#Castle Island Ventures | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

donquixotehomura · 2 months

Text

Valentine's Day with One Piece Boys

Master List

W.C:3295 so uhhhhh my hand slipped oops... I took some assumptions here and I changed some things that are common about these characters in Fanfic writing, my brain couldn’t come up with a lot for Law I’m sorry about that, Crocodile and Doffy can be read as pre or post becoming Warlords, some might be OOC but IDK I wrote this in about a day lol (my eyes fingers and back hurt I need to correct my posture lol) sorry if I didn't write for your favorites, have fun and lemme know what you think I love feed back It took two and a half fucking hours to put the gifs in, cause the line thingy where you add stuff only showed at the very bottom so I had to keep editing and dragging shit around, I'm sure I'm doing something wrong, also I had to look up all the gifs here even tho I have tons cause for some reason "something goofed" .... end my suffering also I wrote this on word and then brought it here so if formatting gets weird that's why, even tho I spent hours on making sure everything is good shout out to my inspo who also encouraged me to write it @cinnbar-bun

Dracule Mihawk, Roronoa Zoro, Portgas D. Ace, Donquixote Doflamingo, Eustass "Captain" Kid, Charlotte Katakuri, Massacre Soldier Killer, Sir Crocodile, Trafalgar Law.

Dracule Mihawk:

Mihawk and Y/N prefer intimate celebrations for Valentine's Day. They often opt for a quiet evening together at their secluded castle, away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world.

Despite their stoic exteriors, Mihawk and Y/N are surprisingly sentimental when it comes to expressing their feelings. They exchange handwritten letters on Valentine's Day, pouring their hearts out on paper in a way that words spoken aloud cannot convey.

Instead of extravagant gestures, Mihawk and Y/N prefer to exchange gifts that hold sentimental value. Mihawk might gift Y/N a rare book on something she likes, while Y/N might give Mihawk a custom-made piece of simple jewelry like a small bracelet she personally crafted for him.

On Valentine's Day, Mihawk surprises Y/N by offering to cook dinner together. Despite her lack of culinary skills, Y/N appreciates the bonding activity and enjoys spending quality time with him in the kitchen, even if it results in a few culinary mishaps.

After dinner, Mihawk and Y/N venture out into the castle's courtyard to stargaze. They lie side by side on a blanket, Y/N pointing out constellations and sharing stories about their significance, reveling in the peaceful solitude of the night, Mihawk just listens to her with a small fond smile.

Throughout the day, Mihawk and Y/N take time to reflect on their journey together, reminiscing about cherished memories and shared experiences that have strengthened their bond over the years.

As a romantic gesture, Mihawk and Y/N share a midnight dance in the castle's grand ballroom. Lit only by candlelight, they move together in a graceful waltz, lost in the magic of the moment and the timeless beauty of their love. Going To Sleep Cuddling: Mihawk and Y/N will go to sleep in the end of the day holding each other, Y/N would curl up into his arms, burying her face into his chest while he wraps his arms around her his hand going into her hair to play with the soft strands.

As Valentine's Day draws to a close, Mihawk and Y/N exchange a few hushed words as they cuddle, reaffirming their commitment to each other and the promise of a future filled with love, laughter, and endless adventures together.

Roronoa Zoro:

Despite his tough exterior, Zoro secretly spends weeks planning the perfect Valentine's Day surprise for Y/N. He meticulously selects a secluded spot on the island they're docked on, where they can enjoy each other's company away from the hustle and bustle of the crew.

Y/N, appreciative of Zoro's efforts, prepares a special gift for him on Valentine's Day. Knowing his love for swords, she surprises him with a beautifully crafted sheath for one of his blades, personalized with intricate designs that reflect their shared journey together.

Zoro and Y/N spend Valentine's Day evening taking a leisurely stroll along the shores of the island. With the sound of waves lapping against the shore and the moonlight casting a soft glow, they share quiet moments of intimacy, lost in each other's company.

During their stroll, Zoro and Y/N encounter a group of wild creatures roaming the island. With their swords drawn, they effortlessly dispatch the beasts, their synchronized movements a testament to their unwavering bond as swordsmen and lovers.

As the night progresses, Zoro and Y/N build a campfire on the beach, the crackling flames casting flickering shadows around them. They share stories of their past adventures and dreams for the future, their laughter mingling with the sound of the ocean.

Under the starlit sky, Zoro finally opens up to Y/N, expressing his gratitude for her presence in his life. He admits that he's not good at expressing his feelings, but Y/N's unwavering support and love have changed him for the better.

Moved by Zoro's vulnerability, Y/N wraps her arms around him, offering him comfort and reassurance. She assures him that their love is enough, and she wouldn't have their Valentine's Day any other way.

As the night comes to an end, Zoro and Y/N make a promise to each other to continue facing life's challenges together, hand in hand. They vow to cherish every moment and celebrate their love not just on Valentine's Day, but every day.

As they watch the sun rise on the horizon, Zoro leans in to press a gentle kiss to Y/N's lips, sealing their promise with a silent vow of devotion. In that moment, amidst the beauty of the dawn, they find solace in the certainty of their love for each other.

As they return to the ship, hand in hand, Zoro and Y/N share a knowing smile, their hearts full of love and gratitude for each other. Though their Valentine's Day was unconventional and filled with unexpected adventures, it was a testament to the strength of their bond and the depth of their love.

Portgas D. Ace:

Y/N wakes up early on Valentine's Day to prepare a special breakfast for Ace. She arranges heart-shaped pancakes and fruit on a tray, leaving a note with a playful message for him to wake up to. Ace spends weeks leading up to Valentine's Day working on a handmade gift for Y/N. He creates a personalized necklace with a small pendant in the shape of a flame, symbolizing their fiery love and passion.

Y/N organizes a scavenger hunt around the Moby Dick for Ace. Each clue leads him to a different part of the ship, where he discovers small gifts and love notes hidden by Y/N.

Ace surprises Y/N with a romantic beach picnic at a secluded cove. They enjoy a delicious meal together as they watch the sunset, the sound of the waves providing a serene backdrop to their intimate celebration.

As the night falls, Ace and Y/N gather with their friends for a bonfire on the beach. They roast marshmallows, share stories, and cuddle close under a blanket, basking in the warmth of their love and the crackling fire.

Y/N sets up a telescope on the deck of the Moby Dick, and she and Ace spend the evening stargazing together. They point out constellations, make wishes on shooting stars, and share dreams for their future, Y/N certainly tries to find constellations that match Ace’s freckles. Ace surprises Y/N with a makeshift dance floor on the deck of the ship. He puts on her favorite song, and they dance together under the moonlight, lost in each other's arms.

Y/N leaves little love notes for Ace to find throughout the day. Each note expresses her affection and gratitude for having him in her life, reminding him of the depth of her love.

Ace and Y/N spend the afternoon cooking a special Valentine's Day dinner together in the kitchen. They laugh, tease each other, and steal kisses amidst the preparation, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together. (Marco is on standby with a fire extinguisher)

As the day comes to a close, Ace and Y/N exchange heartfelt declarations of love. They express their gratitude for each other, promising to cherish and support one another for all the days to come, both of them yelling it at the top of their lungs of the railing of the ship and the crew is so done with them lol

Donquixote Doflamingo:

Doflamingo, despite his intimidating persona, secretly enjoys the sentimentality of Valentine's Day. He's known for surprising Y/N with extravagant gifts, ranging from rare treasures he's acquired during their travels to personalized items he's commissioned just for her. Y/N, in turn, cherishes each gift as a symbol of Doflamingo's affection, even if she's not one for material possessions. On Valentine's Day, Doflamingo arranges a private, candlelit dinner on the deck of their ship or a secluded spot on the island they're currently exploring. He spares no expense in ensuring the evening is perfect, with gourmet cuisine prepared by their crew's skilled chefs. Y/N appreciates the effort he puts into creating these intimate moments and enjoys the opportunity to spend quality time together away from the chaos of pirate life.

Instead of focusing solely on lavish gifts and grand gestures, Doflamingo and Y/N often reminisce about their shared adventures and memorable moments throughout the years. They spend Valentine's Day reflecting on the challenges they've overcome together, the laughter they've shared, the tears they’ve shed and the unbreakable bond that has formed between them.

Despite their often intense and tumultuous journey as pirates, Doflamingo and Y/N also value quiet moments of affection. They may spend Valentine's Day simply enjoying each other's company, whether it's lounging on the deck, stargazing, or taking a leisurely stroll on the beach hand in hand. It's in these peaceful moments that they feel most connected.

Doflamingo and Y/N have a deep understanding of each other, and Valentine's Day serves as a reminder of the unspoken bond they share. They may not always verbalize their feelings, but their actions speak volumes. Whether it's a knowing glance, a comforting touch, or a gentle smile exchanged between them, they both know that their love is unwavering.

Eustass "Captain" Kid:

Despite her tough exterior, Y/N secretly enjoys the romantic gestures she receives on Valentine's Day. Kid, though he may not admit it openly, takes great pleasure in surprising Y/N with small gifts and tokens of affection, leaving them anonymously for her to find. Kid's idea of a Valentine's Day gift may not be traditional, but it's always heartfelt. He might present Y/N with a custom-made weapon, intricately designed and tailored to her unique fighting style, or a rare treasure he stumbled upon during their travels, symbolizing the adventures they've shared together.

Y/N, with her artistic flair, expresses her love for Kid through her creations. She might spend weeks crafting a personalized piece of jewelry for him, incorporating elements of his Jolly Roger or symbols that hold significance to their relationship, showcasing her devotion in a tangible form.

Amidst the chaos of their pirate life, Y/N and Kid cherish the quiet moments they steal away together on Valentine's Day. They might escape to a secluded spot-on deck, watching the stars and sharing stories, finding solace in each other's company amidst the vastness of the sea.

For Y/N and Kid, Valentine's Day is not just about romantic gestures, but also about embarking on new adventures together. They might set sail to explore uncharted islands, face formidable foes, or discover hidden treasures, strengthening their bond through shared experiences and thrilling escapades.

Despite their differences, Y/N and Kid's relationship is built on mutual respect and understanding. They may not always see eye to eye, but they know how to support and uplift each other, especially on Valentine's Day, when they take the time to appreciate the unique qualities that make their bond so special.

Y/N and Kid's Valentine's Day celebrations may not be conventional, but they're uniquely theirs. They might indulge in a feast of their favorite foods, engage in friendly competitions and challenges, or simply enjoy each other's presence, knowing that their love transcends traditional expectations.

As they spend Valentine's Day together, Y/N and Kid exchange promises for the future. They may vow to stand by each other through thick and thin, to continue exploring the world and facing its challenges together, and to cherish the love they share, knowing that their bond is unbreakable.

Charlotte Katakuri:

Despite their tough exteriors, Y/N and Katakuri secretly enjoy showering each other with romantic gestures on Valentine's Day. Y/N surprises Katakuri with handcrafted doughnuts with many flavours, each one meticulously made with love and care. In return, Katakuri presents Y/N with a beautifully crafted box of her favorite sweets, a testament to his thoughtfulness and affection. On Valentine's evening, Y/N and Katakuri escape the chaos of Totto Land for a private dinner date on a secluded beach. They indulge in a feast of their favorite dishes, sharing laughter and intimate conversation under the twinkling stars. As the night deepens, they dance together in the moonlight, their hearts beating in perfect harmony.

In the days leading up to Valentine's Day, Y/N and Katakuri exchange heartfelt love letters, expressing their deepest emotions and gratitude for each other. Y/N's letters are filled with poetic prose and declarations of undying love, while Katakuri's letters are eloquent and sincere, revealing the depths of his affection for Y/N.

As a special Valentine's Day surprise, Katakuri whisks Y/N away on a romantic getaway to a secluded island paradise. They spend their days exploring pristine beaches, indulging in couples' massages, and savoring gourmet meals prepared by a private chef. It's a blissful escape from their duties and responsibilities, allowing them to focus solely on each other.

On Valentine's Day, Y/N and Katakuri reminisce about their favorite moments together, flipping through photo albums filled with snapshots of their adventures. They laugh at candid shots of themselves and smile fondly at pictures of special milestones they've shared. It's a heartwarming reminder of the bond they've built and the memories they've created together, a few of them are pictures taken by Y/N of Katakuri throughout the day, in some of them his scarf is hiding a smile or a blush a reason as to why she took the picture (yes she walks around with a Visual Den Den Mushi.. At least that’s what I think the picture taking ones are called) Y/N has been joining Katakuri during his Meriendas for years now and same as rumors spread about him meditating and talking to gods of battle during them rumors spread about her as well (I read a fic about this before where Y/N was considered his oracle and it’s an amazing one I’m trying to find it again) what they don’t know is that these two are being very sappy idiots, cuddling sharing kisses and laughs and stealing each other's sweets, especially on this day, the others just think that they’re doing some sort of ritual about devotion to Gods of Battle only lol.

As the night falls on Valentine's Day, Y/N and Katakuri retreat to a secluded hilltop, where they lay beneath a blanket of stars, hand in hand. They share stories of their hopes and dreams, tracing constellations with their fingers and basking in the quiet beauty of the night sky. It's a moment of perfect serenity, a reminder of the infinite possibilities that lie ahead for their love.

Massacre Soldier Killer:

Despite their tough exteriors, Killer and Y/N secretly enjoy surprising each other with small romantic gestures on Valentine's Day. Y/N might leave a heartfelt note tucked into Killer's pocket, while Killer might craft a makeshift bouquet of flowers from materials he finds on their travels. Valentine's Day is a rare opportunity for Killer and Y/N to spend some quality time together away from the chaos of pirate life. They might steal away to a secluded spot on the ship or find a quiet beach where they can enjoy each other's company without interruptions.

Killer and Y/N reminisce about their favorite moments together, cherishing the memories they've created during their time as partners in crime. They might exchange stories about their most memorable adventures or laugh about the mishaps they've encountered along the way.

Despite their limited resources as pirates, Killer and Y/N find creative ways to exchange gifts on Valentine's Day. Y/N might fashion a piece of jewelry from shells she finds on the beach, while Killer might carve a wooden trinket with his expert craftsmanship.

Killer surprises Y/N with a romantic candlelit dinner, showcasing his culinary skills with a delicious meal cooked from scratch. Y/N, in turn, appreciates the effort and thoughtfulness behind the gesture, and they enjoy a quiet evening together under the stars. While they may not always express their emotions openly, Killer and Y/N show their love and affection for each other in subtle ways. A gentle touch, a lingering glance, or a reassuring smile speaks volumes in the language of their relationship.

Valentine's Day serves as a reminder of the unbreakable bond between Killer and Y/N. They reaffirm their commitment to each other, promising to stand by each other's side through thick and thin, no matter what challenges may come their way.

As they bask in the warmth of each other's love on Valentine's Day, Killer and Y/N discuss their hopes and dreams for the future. They envision a life together filled with adventure, laughter, and unwavering support, knowing that as long as they have each other, anything is possible.

Overall, Valentine's Day is a special occasion for Killer and Y/N to celebrate their love and appreciation for each other, strengthening the bond that binds them together as partners in both love and piracy.

Sir Crocodile:

Crocodile and Y/N aren't ones for grand gestures, so their Valentine's Day celebration tends to be understated. They prefer spending quality time together rather than getting caught up in the commercial aspects of the holiday. Crocodile surprises Y/N by preparing a simple but delicious meal for them to share. Despite his gruff exterior, Crocodile has a surprisingly deft hand in the kitchen, and Y/N is touched by the effort he puts into making the evening special.

Instead of extravagant gifts, Crocodile and Y/N exchange meaningful tokens of their affection. Y/N gives Crocodile a handmade leather-bound journal, knowing how much he values knowledge and planning. In return, Crocodile presents Y/N with a rare seashell he found during one of their adventures, a symbol of their shared experiences.

After dinner, Crocodile and Y/N enjoy a quiet evening together, lounging on the deck of their ship and gazing up at the stars. They talk about their hopes and dreams for the future, reveling in the simplicity of each other's company.

Despite their tough exteriors, Crocodile and Y/N share a passion for Planning and Conquest. They spend the evening poring over maps and planning their next expedition, excited about the possibilities that lie ahead. While they may not be overly demonstrative, Crocodile and Y/N show their love for each other in small, subtle ways. A gentle touch, a knowing glance, or a shared smile speaks volumes about the depth of their bond. As the night draws to a close, Crocodile and Y/N express their gratitude for each other, acknowledging the strength and support they provide in each other's lives. They may not say "I love you" in so many words, but their actions speak louder than any declaration of affection ever could.

Trafalgar Law:

Y/N is bubbling with excitement as Valentine's Day approaches, eager to celebrate the occasion with Law despite his usual reservations about the holiday. She takes the lead in planning the day, organizing a romantic dinner aboard the Polar Tang complete with candles, rose petals, and Law's favorite dishes. Law, although initially hesitant about the festivities, appreciates Y/N's enthusiasm and decides to go along with her plans, wanting to make her happy. He surprises Y/N with small but meaningful gifts throughout the day, such as a locket containing a picture of the two of them together or a handwritten note expressing his love and gratitude. Y/N showers Law with affection, peppering him with kisses and hugs as they spend quality time together, enjoying each other's company in the privacy of their quarters. They share stories and reminisce about their favorite memories together, laughing and smiling as they bask in the warmth of their love. Law surprises Y/N with a heartfelt gesture, such as letting her cuddle with him instead of working or giving her a massage to help her relax and unwind. They exchange promises of love and commitment, reaffirming their bond and promising to stand by each other through thick and thin. As the day comes to a close, Law and Y/N cuddle up together under a blanket, content in each other's arms and grateful for the love they share.

258 notes · View notes

cozage · 1 year

Text

New Multi-Chapter Fic: The Moss that Grew in Gloom

A/N: A multi-chapter fic I promised weeks ago is finally starting!! With Made for Two being complete, I finally can redirect some of my efforts to other things, and this is at the top of my list! I hope you enjoy!!

Characters: female reader x Zoro, (Mihawk and Perona are also present)

Summary: As the daughter of Dracule Mihawk, you've spent your life in almost complete solitude. But that changed one day when a green-haired swordsman makes a smashing appearance.

Word count: 5k

Chapter One: The Fall of a Swordsman

| Next Chapter | Masterlist| Read on AO3

Your life began when a moss headed man crashed into the pavement outside, you just hadn't known it yet.

It was the second time someone had fallen to Gloom Island since you had been alone. Your father had been called away to help with an execution, and he had forbid you to tag along. The Warlord had left you alone several times before, but this was the first time a person had come crashing into your castle. And now that number had doubled to two.

You and Perona peered out the window, looking at the place of impact.

“I think he’s dead,” you said, looking down at him from your second story bedroom.

“He looks familiar…” Perona mumbled. “We should go see.”

You frowned at the body outside. “Dad said not to leave the castle while he was gone.”

“Yeah but aren’t you a little curious?” Perona’s wide eyes were stuck on the unmoving man.

“Not really.” You turned away from the window, back to your room. “The baboons will deal with him if he’s not dead yet.”

“You’re so cold!” Perona pouted at you, and she ran to your door. “I’m going to save him!”

“Suit yourself,” you responded, opening a book. “But I won’t be helping.”

You didn’t see Perona for a few days after that. You knew she had managed to save the green-haired man and drag him back into the castle, and you knew she was tending to his wounds. The sounds of banging and the occasional shout from both of them proved that.

“I do know him!” She said, entering the kitchen. It was one of the few moments you left your room with a stranger in the house. You had managed to avoid Perona and the stranger whenever you ventured down for food, but you had known it was only a matter of time before your paths crossed.

“He’s a Strawhat!” she continued. “They were the ones fighting Moria and sent me to this dreadful place in the first place!”

That caught your attention. “He has that power? He’s that strong?”

“Well, no..” Perona said, thinking back to her time on Thriller Bark. “I think it was a crew mate of his that did that.”

You frowned, but said nothing at that. You did remember the Strawhat Pirates from the news, and your father took an interest in one of the crew members, but you couldn’t remember which one. But you didn’t remember any ability like that being on their wanted poster.

“I guess he’s alive, then.” You tried not to sound too interested. “Will he make a full recovery?”

Perona groaned. “He’s SO needy! And he’s complaining about EVERYTHING! The food, the bed, the way I wrapped his wounds! Nothing is good enough for him, I swear!”

You laughed at the irony of that. Perona hadn’t stopped complaining about this place since she had arrived either. Nothing was ever good enough for her, even in a giant mansion on a secluded island.

Not that you were upset about her presence. You didn’t mind Perona most of the time. Sometimes you even liked her. But on those days when you just wanted to be alone, she was always there. She was like a little sister who was always demanding your attention, always wanting to do something with you. It had been strange to get used to after such solitude with only you and your father your entire life.

Perona finished making a sandwich, and looked your way. “You should come see him!”

“I told you, I’m not helping.” You left the words hanging in the air as you walked out, hearing her frustrated breath huff out behind you.

You finally met the mysterious intruder a few days later, when he barged into your room unannounced. Your eyes flicked up from your book as your door slammed open. He had mossy green hair and tanned skin, and you could tell he was in good shape under his bandages. He was covered in them, and you could see why he was complaining about Perona’s handiwork. She had wrapped them so tight in some places, you were surprised he could move.

“Wha--Who the hell are you?!” The man demanded, gawking around your room. Your sword laid next to your chair, and you saw his eyes slide over to it.

“It’s rude to demand someone’s name when you haven’t introduced yourself,” you said, returning your gaze back down to your book.

You could hear him grit his teeth in frustration, and you resisted the urge to smirk at his reaction.

“Look, woman, do you know where my swords are or not?”

“Swords?” Now that caught your attention. You looked back at him and found his gaze was still on the sword next to your chair. You closed your book, mentally marking where you were in the story, and then placed it down on the coffee table next to you.

“That stupid ghost girl stole my swords!”

You stood and picked up your weapon, turning it over in your hand. “Swords as in multiple?”

“Three.”

“Three?”

His eye twitched in frustration. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“How long have you been looking for these swords?” You walked over to the door where he was standing. “And don’t ever barge into my room again without knocking first.”

He gritted his teeth, and you could tell he wanted to say something back, but he refrained. He moved out of the way for you to pass through the door. “I’ve been looking for a few days.”

“A few days?” You laughed at that, thinking it was an over exaggeration, but his silence made you realize he was being serious. “You must be bad with directions.”

“It’s not my fault it’s a maze in here!” He shouted back at you. You rolled your eyes and bound down the steps, hoping he was capable enough to follow you.

“Perona,” You call out at the bottom of the stops. “Where’d you hide this guy’s swords?”

“It’s not my fault!” the pink-haired girl cried, floating into the room. “I told him exactly where they were! Up the stairs and down the hallway!”

“Thanks!” You bound back up the left staircase, and when you got to the top, you realize you didn't see the swordsman anywhere. You had just run down the stairs and then back up them, how had you lost him already?

You didn’t have time to figure out where he went. Honestly, you cared more about his swords than you did about him. You just wanted to see how his blades looked.

His swords were exactly where Perona described. It was as he said: three swords sitting together in the room.

You could feel the energy rolling off of one of them when you opened the door. It was respectable for a swordsman to carry a blade with such a strong personality, but you weren’t interested in a sword with an attitude.

The next one that caught your eye was a sword you never thought you’d see in your lifetime. Shusui, the legendary katana from Wano. The last you heard it had been buried with its previous owner. You unsheathed it and held it out, slashing the air a few times. The balance was perfect, and it almost made you envious of the user. If you didn’t have the sword you possessed now, you would certainly be taking this for yourself.

You sheathed Shusui and turned your attention to the last sword, a white-hilted one. As you bent down to grab it, a strong hand grabbed your shoulder. You quickly turned, unsheathing your own blade and holding its tip out against the perpetrator’s throat.

It was that damn pirate. You had been so caught up in looking at his swords, you hadn’t noticed him come in. He was smirking at you with a brow raised, eyeing the sword in your hand. You rolled your eyes and lowered your sword, scoffing at his cockiness.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said, nodding at the blade in your hand. You squinted your eyes at him suspiciously, but handed your blade over to him and then bent down to pick up the white hilted one.

As you examined it, you couldn't help but find it familiar-looking. It was a great sword, and it was made with the finest materials by an extraordinarily skilled blade smith. You were jealous of the man who got to call it his own. Wado Ichimonji, you believed it was called. It wasn’t exactly your style, but you could still admire it nonetheless.

You could hear him gasp behind you, and you turn to look. His fingers reached down to run along the light blue blade as he inspected it.

“Wait-”

He cried out, more in surprise than in pain, and he yanked his hand away from the blade. You could see that his fingers had beads of blood forming on them, cut by the razortooth edges that ran along the flat of your blade.

“Sorry, I forgot to warn you.” You sheathed his blade and walked over to him. You reached out for his hand to examine it for any serious damage, but he yanked it away from you.

You scowled at him, but he continued to inspect your blade, turning it over in his hands. He slashed at the air a few times, and you could feel the waves of air roll over you. If he knew how to actually use the blade to its full capacity, he’d be quite powerful with it. You suspected that the other swords in his possession weren’t by luck.

“Roronoa.” You had been piecing the information together for a while now, and you were fairly certain in your guess of his identity.

“You know me?” He said, eyeing you cautiously.

“I’ve heard of you,” you corrected. Your father occasionally commented on him when he was in the paper, and you knew the story of how he had challenged the Warlord in the East Blue. At the start of the Grand Line, he hadn’t been anything impressive, but over the few months he’d been there, he seemed to have made a name for himself.

“You have a nice blade,” he said, handing it back to you and walking over to pick up his own.

“Nikko,” you say, giving it a quick glance before putting it at your side again. “You have nice ones as well. Except that cursed one. I’m surprised you can handle it.”

He chuckled. “Don’t you worry, I’ve got it under control.”

You nodded back to him, not quite sure you believed him. “Are you planning to stay with us for a while?”

He scoffed at your question. “I’m returning to my captain as soon as I can.”

It’s your turn to laugh now. “Good luck. In your condition, you won’t make it to the coast.”

“Yeah well, you don’t know what I’m capable of.”

You snorted at his response, but offered none of your own. With the conversation over, you turned away from him and back to the door to take your leave.

The sound of rock collapsing comes from the swordsman’s direction, and your head whipped back around to see what he’s done now. You just catch a glimpse of moss-colored hair jumping out of a cut opening in the stone.

“You brute!” You screamed down at him as you watched him fall. “What the hell is wrong with you?!?”

But he didn’t respond, he just hit the ground and started running.

“Where’d he go?!” Perona’s shrill voice came from beside you. “He’s my ticket off this dump of an island!”

“This dump of an island is my home,” you said, irritated with the bubblegum girl. Maybe it would be better for her to take her leave.

“Enjoy it! I’m leaving with him!” She floated through the opening that Roronoa had made, and began chasing after him.

“Watch out for the-” you shouted as loud as you could, but she was already out of earshot.

You looked up, as if you were mumbling a prayer. “Father, where are you?”

You found them at the wooden cross, surrounded by baboons. You watched from the woods at Roronoa struggling to fight, and as the baboon went in for the kill, you jumped in front of him and sliced the baboon across its chest with Nikko.

“I don’t need you saving me!” You heard the man call from behind you, anger thick in his voice.

“Oh? You don’t?” You turned back to him and sheathed your sword. “Fine then. Do it yourself.”

Most of the baboons had learned to fear you, but this green-haired stranger was no threat to them. Once your sword was put away and walked out of range, they began their attack against him again.

You watched the match in disappointment. You expected better from the man who was supposed to best your father in a sword fight. But this was just pathetic.

“Aren’t you going to help him?” Perona screamed at you from above.

“He doesn’t want my help,” you hissed, loud enough for him to hear. “Why don’t you try, Perona?”

“You think I can take those things?!” She squeaked, and you turned your attention back to the fight, just in time to see Roronoa get thrown backwards into the wooden cross.

He hit it with such force that he left an indent on the wooden marker, and then fell face first into the ground. He laid there for a minute, and you grabbed the hilt of your blade, ready to draw if the baboons made an attack.

It wasn’t necessary though, because you finally noticed his presence. You relaxed, clicking Nikko back into its sheath. Only a second later did the baboons notice, and they all began to flee from the area.

Even Perona and Roronoa seemed shocked, and you could see the green-haired swordsman tense at the realization of who was appearing through the fog. He grabbed his cursed blade, using it to pull himself up to his knees.

“You better not do that, Roronoa Zoro,” your father said, eyeing the man before him. “You’ve been injured beyond your limit. Do you think you can beat me when you can’t even beat the baboons?”

You snorted at that, pleased that your father was equally unimpressed with the swordsman. Roronoa Zoro, he called him.

Mihawk’s gold eyes flicked to you, and he frowned. “I thought I told you not to leave the castle while I was away. I expect a full explanation of the events that occurred while I was absent.”

You bit your lip, frustrated with the reprimand, but said nothing. You knew he wouldn’t listen now. He had bigger things to deal with, like the two new houseguests who had appeared while he was gone.

“Why the hell are you here?!” Roronoa demanded, looking at your father.

Your father’s attention moved back to the man on the ground. “I’ve been living in that castle for quite some time. Why are you here?”

“I got blown away by Kuma, a member of the seven warlords like yourself.”

“I see…” Your father looked at you briefly. “Is he telling the truth?”

You nod. “He is.”

“Very well. That explains why Strawhat came to Marineford with other people.”

Roronoa’s eyes got wide at the mention of his captain’s name. “You saw Luffy?! How was he?!? Was he alright?!”

Your father seemed unfazed by the green-haired man’s desperation. “He’s still alive probably. But I assume that he’s been very badly traumatized.”

“What happened?”

“He lost his brother.”

Roronoa blinked. You could see every muscle in his body tighten in anguish. “What did you say?”

“Fire-Fist Ace died before Strawhat’s eyes.”

Everyone stood there for a moment, frozen. You could tell the news had rocked the pirate. His facial expressions were extremely easy to read. He looked confused, angry, helpless, and upset all in the same moment.

After a moment, he struggled to his feet. “I have to go. I have to go find Luffy.”

After the swordsman and Perona took off, your father looked at you with a frown. You knew he was disappointed, but you weren’t entirely sure what you had done to make him feel that way.

“Please explain to me why there are two new people on this island.”

You began walking back towards the castle. “I believe Roronoa is right. Kuma sent them here, separately. There was a pawprint impact zone around Perona when she arrived on the grounds. I did not leave to inspect Roronoa’s site when he arrived a few days later because it was outside of the castle grounds.” You paused for a moment, letting him absorb all of the information. “I didn’t leave the grounds, father.”

“And yet you are off them now,” he shot back.

“They were in danger! I couldn’t-”

“I do not care about the lives of those two. And I do not appreciate you risking your own life to save them.” You heard it as he paused to keep his voice from rising any further. The worry laced in his voice that was initially masked as anger. He took a breath, and his voice returned to his normal cadence when he speaks again.

“Do not do it again.”

You grinned at him, deciding to press your luck. “You were worried about me, weren’t you?”

“You can handle yourself. I am aware of that.”

You laughed lightly, and decide to abandon the topic. You had missed your father desperately while he was gone.

“How was Marineford?” you asked.

“Like I said, the execution was successful.”

“But how was it?” you pressed. Sometimes your father forgot to turn off the whole mystery persona with you.

He hummed, thinking how to describe it. “There were some complications. Mainly Roronoa’s captain. He’s quite a problem for the Navy.”

You chuckled at that. “Runs in the crew, I guess.”

“What do you mean? Has he been a problem?”

You looked at him, irritation on your face. “There's a hole in one of the second story guest bedrooms now. He got irritated with how complicated it was to navigate the castle and just cut his way out.”

Your father frowned. “I see. They’ll be quite troublesome houseguests, won’t they?”

You were so shocked by his response that you stopped in your tracks. “They’re staying?”

“Do you think they’re going to get off this island in their current state?”

You laughed at that question. You had been thinking the same thing. At least someone was of the same mindset as you.

----

Later that night, you heard Perona enter the castle. Based on her grunts of frustration, she was carrying the swordsman. He lasted longer than you thought he would. You chose to lock your bedroom door that night. The last thing you needed was to wake up to a lost, poorly bandaged swordsman barging into your room.

Every morning, you would hear Roronoa scream as he woke up, which prompted Perona to scream in return. The two of them would hobble out of the castle, trying to fight their way to the coast. And every night, long after sunset, Perona would drag the swordsman back into the castle and rebandage his wounds. Just for the cycle to repeat the next day.

You wanted to scream at the mossy-haired man. He would never get anywhere if he didn’t let his injuries heal. If he just rested for one or two days, he might have enough energy to make it. But he refused to rest. The only thing he could think of was his captain.

“How long do you think he’ll keep doing this?” You asked your father, spreading some butter on your toast. You had fallen into a strange pattern over the past two weeks with your houseguests, but you were getting tired of it.

“It is…unclear.” You could hear the disapproval in his voice, and you laughed at it.

“You told the baboons not to kill him, didn’t you?”

You looked over at him inquisitively, but he didn't respond.

“He’s such an arrogant swordsman. Why are you sparing him?”

You were met with silence again, causing you to huff in frustration and pick up the News Coo.

“Oh, you were correct,” you said, looking at the front page. “There’s news of Roronoa’s Captain today on the front page. He’s alive.”

“Let me see!” A girlish squeal came from behind you, startling you. She grabbed the paper out of your hands, staring at it. “I’ll need to show Zoro!”

“Hey! I was reading that!” You screamed after her, but she whisked away without looking back at you.

“There’s still time to go talk to the baboons,” you grumbled as you stood from the table and began to retreat to your room. You could hear your father chuckle behind you, but you didn’t bother looking back.

You spent the day in your room, and were surprised to hear the pink and green-haired combo come back earlier than usual. The sun was still up, and based off of the sounds they were making, the swordsman was still conscious.

You tiptoed down the hall and stood near the base of the stairs, hidden from sight.

“I want to beat you!” You heard Roronoa scream. You decided to peek around the corner to get a better view of what was occurring, and you could see that the swordsman was bowing before your father. It was not a sight you expected to see, especially in conjunction with the words he had just spoken.

Your father laughed at his words. A full, hearty laugh. “You’re asking me to train a swordsman who wants to kill me? You’re insane. And what you’re asking is nonsense. Even so, what you’re doing is still embarrassing.” But the swordsman stays kneeling, waiting for an answer, and your father watches him with interest. “Seems like you found something more important than your ambition. Hey, ghost girl. Treat him.”

Perona pouted from her place near your father. “Don’t tell me what to do!”

You took the opportunity to step out into view of the room. “I’ll do it,” you offer. “I’ll treat him.”

Your father watched you with his sharp gold eyes, hesitating for a moment. But he nodded in agreement after a brief pause, coming to a decision.

“Very well. The training will begin when you’re recovered.”

“Thank you,” Roronoa said, struggling to stand on his feet. You offered no assistance. If he could not walk to the medical bay on his own, then he did that to himself.

You walked alongside him in silence. He didn't ask for help, and you didn’t offer it. It was a slow and painful walk to the medical room, but the swordsman completed it on his own.

You pulled his bandages off gently, unraveling the long mess of Perona’s handiwork up his arms and down his torso. He had plenty of fresh wounds both internally and externally, but the wound that caught your eye was an old one that ran diagonally across his chest. You were certain the cut was made by Yoru, and your fingers began to run across it to examine it further, but Roronoa smacked your hand away.

“Do you mind?” He hissed, pulling away from you.

You rolled your eyes, but abandon the inspection and walk to the back of the room. As he limped over to the bed, you grab a new roll of bandages and gauze.

“You should shower before we rebandage everything to give it a chance to breathe,” you said, looking through the cabinets. “There’s a bathroom through the second door you can shower in.”

“I showered two days ago,” he said simply, sitting on the bed unmoving.

You paused what you were doing and turned to look at him. “Exactly. Go shower.”

“I don’t need to.”

You frowned. “Yes, you do.”

You heard him suck in a breath of air. “I’m not showering, woman. Rebandage my wounds or leave me alone.”

It was his tone that really irritated you, and Nikko was in your hand before you knew it. You slashed the air, sending a blunt force air cannon to smack him in the back of the head.

“Go shower!” You screamed at him, just as the strike made contact with his head.

You heard him grunt in pain, and quickly resheathe your blade and continue to search for more bandages.

“What the hell?!” he said, looking back at you. But you acted like nothing happened, and you heard him get off the bed and shuffle towards the bathroom to fulfill your request. He was mumbling curses under his breath, but you’d take the win.

It takes him a long time to reemerge from the bathroom, and you picked up the News Coo from this morning to finish reading. You read about Monkey D. Luffy’s 16-bell toll at Marineford, and his honoring the fallen in the battle. There’s a full analysis of whether the pirate was marking the dawn of a new era or if he was declaring war, which you found particularly boring.

You finally heard the click of the door, and the swordsman reappeared from a steam-filled bathroom. You smiled proudly at your small accomplishment, seeing his freshly washed hair fall over his face like strands of algae. He hobbled over to the bed and gently sat down on it. You were still reading the article about his captain and decided to ask him something that had been weighing on your mind.

“What’s with his tattoo?” You asked, looking back to the picture. “3D is crossed out, and 2Y is written.”

“It’s not a tattoo.” He winced slightly as he adjusts himself on the mattress. “It’s a message. We made a promise to meet at a certain place three days later.”

“And that meeting time was moved to two years from now?”

He nodded. “Exactly. Everything else was for publicity. This is a message exclusively for us. Luffy made a decision. Meet at Sabaody in two years.”

“It sounds like your captain is quite smart.”

He snorted at that remark. “He’s not.”

You laughed at his bluntness and put the paper down. At least the swordsman was honest.

You picked up his arm with your hands, and you can feel his strong muscles tense in your grip. “Relax,” you demand. He was always so damn rigid.

You rubbed his forearm, lightly massaging it along upwards to his biceps, and then his shoulder. You worked in silence, besides Roronoa’s occasional groan or your scolding hiss to get him to stop tensing.

By the time you got to his mid-back, he had finally started to loosen up, and you could feel his muscles responding to your touch. You went down to his lower back before curving across and starting on his opposing shoulder to work your way down his other arm.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching you silently as you stayed absorbed in your work. Your father had done this to you hundreds of times over your life. You could only hope it felt as relieving for Roronoa as it did all of the times your father had done it for you.

You stopped when you got to his fingers, and looked up at him. “Do you mind if I bandage your wounds now, Roronoa?”

He stared at you for a moment with a bewildered look in his eyes. You stare back, refusing to look away. Your father always taught you that it showed weakness to look away first. It was better to start out intimidating and then loosen up around others once you knew they were trustworthy. But pirates were rarely trustworthy.

“Zoro,” he choked out, his eyes finally skirting away from yours. “You can call me Zoro. And yes, uh, you can. Do the bandage thing, I mean.”

You nodded and picked up the bandages to begin wrapping his arm. You could hear him huff a frustrated sigh, and you curiously looked over at him.

“Well?” he said, looking at you expectantly.

You felt your eye twitch at his sudden moodiness. “What?” you shot back, matching his energy.

“Are you going to introduce yourself?”

Right. You knew a lot about Roronoa Zoro, but he didn’t know anything about you. You introduced yourself with your name, but didn’t offer any other information.

He accepted that introduction, at least for the moment, and you finish wrapping both of his arms in silence. When you were finished, he flexed under his bandages, and he smiled a bit.

“You’re better at this than that other girl.”

You laughed at that, starting on his torso area. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“What did you do before you got here?”

You paused, looking at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, messing up a piece of your wrap and forcing you to start over. “Didn’t Kuma send you here too? Like me and Perona?”

“Oh. No,” you clarified. “I’ve been living on Gloom Island for about seven years now.”

“Seven years?”

You nodded and kept wrapping, but Roronoa didn’t let the conversation go. “What have you been doing for seven years?”

“Training, I guess. Reading. Exploring the island.”

He tensed. “But the baboons…”

You shot him a look. “Stop tensing or it’ll be too tight on you. The baboons aren’t anything to worry about. There’s only one or two on the island I have some trouble with.”

“Tch. Whatever you say.” You could tell he thinks you’re lying, but you don’t care. You finished wrapping his torso and gave him one last check-over to make sure the bandages all held.

“Why Dracule Mihawk?” you finally ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “What do you mean?”

“Why train under him? Why work to defeat him?”

His eyes narrowed at you, as if he was trying to comprehend what you were asking. “He’s the best, isn’t he?”

You nod, and the swordsman gets a wicked grin across his face.

“I’m going to beat him and the best. My name is going to be so famous, it’ll reach the heavens.”

“I see,” you said slowly, watching him. You could see in his expression that he means it, and he’ll stop at nothing to reach his goal. You went to take your leave, stopping at the door and turning to look at him one last time.

“Then I wish you luck in that journey, Zoro.”

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #one piece self insert #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #cozage #TMTGIG #✧˚zoro✧˚

455 notes · View notes

catsteeth · 18 days

Text

Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader

+:✿ Chapter 1 ✿:+ : Lucky Boy

chapter 2

Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister. You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his.

CW: afab reader, slow burn, mention violence, blood, mention of harassment, mention of NSFW themes.

A/N: I am not giving up on the leashed dog series yall I promise I have just been PINING for pod the rod recently… and tbh we need a little sweetness with everything happening in the other series okay. He is a rom com boy trapped in a medieval fantasy war and I feel so bad for him.

Word Count: 3348

It had been many days now being held by the Lannisters. You’d no real duties on Bear Island as it was such a small house. Your Aunt was a fierce leader and needed no guidance. You had chosen to venture off of Bear Island to celebrate your coming of age. You decided to travel all over the realm, you wished to see the world and experience all of it. However at a tavern near Kings Landing a man decided to grab at you. You hated it when men did that, so you took your cup of ale and smashed the whole cup into his nose.

It broke of course, and of course, like a child he wept. If a man had done such to another man no one would have batted an eye. But because it was a gold cloak you “assaulted”, and because you were you, a Mormont. An enemy house, you were arrested and brought to the Lannisters. They thought of killing you but instead decided to make use of you.

And they did make good use of you. With you there, Bear Island would be swayed away from ever siding with Stannis against them with you in your custody. Not only that but you were trained in healing, and not nearly as hardened looking as the other women of Bear Island. You were made Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell while she was inhabiting the city.

Margery had done her part in helping you fit in. She showed you how to style your hair, how to pick a dress that suited your figure, how to manipulate the men around you, keeping you out of any more unnecessary trouble. When she dressed you up, no one would be able to tell you could swing a sword just as well as any Kingsgaurd or sellsword could.

You see Margery had to pretend in front of everyone else, but with you, you weren’t loyal to the Lannisters and she knew this. Besides you two had bonded after many nights drinking wine late at night in her bedchambers. Like two little girls who had stolen their fathers ale. You’d spend the nights talking of your lives and your wishes.

Margery was the same again and again, to be the queen. And yours was always the same, to live life and experience all you could.

You and she also talked of men. You’d had experience, and so had she. Not many women would admit it but you two were close enough that you felt you could.

You and she attended many festive celebrations with one another, and to anyone else it would seem you were enjoying your time there. That was good, you did not want to attract any attention.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

Your station as a handmaiden made it easy to overhear and eavesdrop on many high born conversations. One that caught your attention the most was that Janos Slynt, the commander of the gold cloaks, the man who arrested you, was going to be dismissed from his duty.

You weren’t above pettiness. You wanted to hear him be dismissed with your own ears. You found a small room within the castle. Tyrion was hosting a small dinner with Slynt. This was going to be the dinner where he was going to be dismissed. You pressed your back against the wall beside the door listening in. The majority of the dinner was mindless small talk, until

“Damn it boy!” Slynt said loudly.

The shout was so loud you couldn’t help but turn and peer into the room, catching a glimpse of the man who arrested you, Lord Tyrion Lannister, and a squire. You saw that the squire had spilt wine all over the hand of Slynt. It made you smile, holding in amusement.

“My apologies my Lord.” The shorter brown haired squire said.

“You can pour your own wine.” Tyrion said in defense of the squire.

You looked back to Slynt and saw that you had been seen, Slynt raised a brow at you.

“You girl! You the Mormont?" Slynt said loudly,

‘Fuck’ you thought to yourself. Knowing you’d been caught.

“Indeed, My Lord.” You said, putting on a meek and sweet demeanor.

“Come in here,” Slynt commanded.

“What are you doing here, My Lady?” Tyrion questioned you gently.

“Looking for my Lady Tyrell, I seem to have lost my way, My Lord.” You said bowing your head. A convincing enough lie.

“I was responsible for your arrest, do you remember that, girl.” His face was confident and irritating.

“I do, Ser.” You said still attempting to keep a sweet and calm demeanor.

“I thought she was to be punished?” Slynt said to Tyrion.

“She is HandMaiden to Lady Margery Tyrell, and as I am told, a very skilled healer. She has proven to be quite useful.” Lord Tyrion said with a smile looking at you, you smiled back.

“A girl assaults a member of the gold cloaks and is given a position in your Kingdom?”

“A decision made by the King. If you wish to disagree with his decision-”

“Course not.” Slynt interrupted, “Wine,” he commanded, holding up his empty cup.

The same squire began to walk towards the man with the pitcher of wine.

“Not you, boy, the bear girl.” Slynt said looking at you, the irritation boiled inside of you. But you did your best to keep your cool.

You took the pitcher from the squires hands, you looked at him for a moment, his worried expression changed into a smile. It was a smile of total innocence you thought to yourself.

You took the pitcher and walked your way towards the table, as you began to pour wine into his cup he started to speak again.

“Tell me girl, are you enjoying the city?” His tone was one of an interrogator.

“Yes, My Lord.” You said pouring, with a cherubic smile.

“You don’t look like the women of Bear Island.” He said biting his lip, it made you feel ill.

“Indeed, My Lord.” Agree blindly, that’s what Margery taught you anyway

“Women there are beasts,” He said to Tyrion.

“Like you I assume?” Tyrion teased him, it made you smile.

“No, no, like her aunt Maege.” He said and your smile dwindled, but you kept it on.

You didn’t respond this time, biting your tongue, you felt the anger in you rising but said nothing. You wanted to pour the wine on his balding head, but still, did nothing.

“Tell me is it true, is it true she fucked a bear?”

“Lord Slyn-” Tyrion began

“What do you wish for me to say, my Lord?” You felt your temper slipping from between your fingertips. Your smile now gone.

“Do you think I wish for you to lie girl?” Slynt’s tone was harsh,

You stared at him for a moment, your smile snapping back into place.

“Whatever you’d command, my Lord.”

“Enough.” Tyrion tried to stop it.

“You’d do anything I commanded?”

“I said enough. Lady Mormont, you may see to your lady.” Tyrion commanded, saving you from whatever was to come next.

You smiled and curtseyed as you walked back to place the pitcher back on the table. With your back turned to the men your face dropped and you made eye contact with the same squire. He looked at you with pity in his eyes. You couldn’t stand it. You spit into the pitcher and smiled at the squire, he tried hard to hold back his amusement, only giving it away with a smirk as he looked down at his feet.

As you walked out of the room you made sure not to make the same mistake as before. You hid better, committed to hearing this man be removed from his position. And you did, and it was just as satisfying as you thought it would be. Especially when he was escorted by his own gold cloaks out of the tower, kicking and whining like a child.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

During the Battle of Blackwater you attended to many mens wounds.

It had taken most of the night, you were not concerned with the war that waged outside the castle walls. If they won, nothing changed for you. If they lost, you’d either be set free, or once again, nothing would change. Most likely it would be the latter.

You among a few other ladies attended to wounds and dying men while the Maester did as much as he could for those who were far gone.

Things had slowed down, beds were nearly full, but then knights rushed in holding Lord Tyrion. His face had been cut deeply. The cut had crossed his entire face. You could tell at first glance that it would scar, but he would live. It would have been extremely painful but thankfully he was unconscious.

They were all shouting at the Maester. To halt what he was doing and to attend to their lord. As he did a tall man, Bronn, the man who replaced Slynt. Dragged a shorter man with short dark hair towards the Maester.

“Lads hand is cut deep, needs help.” Bronn said

“I can’t attend to every cut and scrape when there's a dying lord in my presence.” The old Maester said, quite dramatically you thought. Tyrion was badly wounded but he would live. “Mormont, girl, you attend to the lad!” He shouted to you.

“Is she any good?” Bronn said, the other shorter man looked at you with what looked like embarrassment, “This lad saved that Lord's life.” You huffed at his comment, it annoyed you how he didn’t ask you but the Maester.

“If I’d a cock they’d call me a Maester.” You said walking closer to him til you were inches apart, it made him take a gasp of air puffing up his chest, and his lips formed a line. “Show me,” You said, much softer this time. He relaxed a bit and as you presented your hand, palm facing him. He placed his hand in yours. “Not so bad,” you said as you examined it.

“Hear that Podrick, not bad-” Bronn said to the shorter man.

“Not so bad. It is still bad.” You noticed his expression change to a more worried one. You, for some reason, felt the need to let your cold and hardened attitude slip for a moment. “But you won’t lose it. I’ll clean it, stitch it, and bandage it.” You placed your other hand over his, trying to comfort him. “Sit.”

He nodded and did so, laying his hand on the table. You began to clean it. Your eyes snapped from his wound to his face as he winced. “Is it true?” he looked at you and his eyes made your stomach feel like there were butterflies in it, so you looked back to his wound as you tended to it, “You saved him? Lord Tyrion?”

“I- I helped him, My Lady.” He said, stammering. Though you weren’t looking at him you could tell his eyes were on your face.

“You’re quite brave, Ser.” You said as you finished cleaning his wound.

“Thank you, My Lady, but I’m not-”

“He’s no Ser, that lads a squire.” Bronn interrupted, “I tell you what though Lass, you want a knight I’ll be happy to oblige.” He said stepping closer to you, your eyes returned to your work on the squires hand.

“Men like you amuse me, Ser. They believe they are still young, handsome, and desirable. No matter what they look like.” You said attempting to fain genuine amusement as if he’d told a joke.

As Bronn attempted to begin a retort, you heard a small laugh leave the unconscious Lord’s lips, still not fully conscious.

“See? I am a good healer.” You said as everyone looked at Tyrion's subtle laugh as you continued to work.

The squire looked back at you with a slight grin, as if he were trying to hide his amusement.

“Much braver for a squire to do such a thing.” You said softly just so he’d hear it.

He smiled at you in response, He was pretty you thought. Men on Bear Island were fearsome, rigid, and gruff. This one wasn’t, the opposite in fact. He’d had a natural goodness about him, a sweetness.

That's when you realized he was the same squire from the dinner between Ser Slynt and Lord Tyrion.

“I know you.” You said with narrow eyes and furrowed brows, finally realizing.

“Yes, my Lady.” His smile and innocent response made you smile involuntarily, you tried to hide it to no avail. You were flattered that he’d even remembered you. The feeling of flattery didn’t come naturally to you at all either.

“This part is going to hurt.” You said pulling the curved needle through his flesh, he winced and hissed. Your eyes went towards him, normally you never cared. A man should learn to handle pain, you always thought. But you hated to see him in any discomfort. “Bring him wine.” You called out to Bronn. Your words towards Bronn were no near as gentle and sweet sounding as they were towards Podrick.

He began to drink it, only sipping a little at first, but you pushed the cup up making him down more. “You’ll want to be numb to this.” You explained.

As he continued to drink you continued with your work. By the end of it you bandaged his hand, “Finished,” You said standing up, and he followed your actions.

“I can’t thank you enough, my lady.” He said clearly a little drunk from the wine.

“Alright,” Bronn said grabbing Podrick by the back of his neck and dragged him out of the chamber. You could hear Bronn outside say “You can fuck the she-bear later.” followed by some distant protesting by Podrick.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

A day had passed since the battle. You were in your chambers with Margery. You’d told her about all the handsome knights you’d seen that night.

She’d teased you about how lucky you were to have gotten your hands on so many. You had begun to describe the squire you’d met. How strange it was to have met a man so pleasant in such an awful place.

As the two of you laughed there was a knock at your door. Margery took it upon herself to answer it.

“Lady Tyrell, apologies for the interruption. I came to thank Lady Mormont.” You heard his voice and knew who it was immediately.

“Ah! I take it you were a knight she tended to during the battle?” Margery asked him, you wanted to laugh, but held it in.

“A squire, my Lady.” He said, his tone was somewhat sullen. As if he were embarrassed to say it.

“A squire…” Margery said with her signature smile as she turned to look at you, raising her eyebrows, then turning back to him “Well I shall leave you to express your gratitude.” She said as she left.

You stood from your chair and stepped forward.

“Lady Mormont?” He said walking towards you, as he did he pulled out a small but beautiful delicate yellow flower. It had only recently bloomed.

“A flower?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. On Bear Island people hardly said the word thank you much less showed appreciation through gifts, especially not such sweet ones as this.

“I don’t have much, my lady. But I- I wanted to show my gratitude.” He said with his token innocent wide eyed look. You took the flower and smiled slightly, which made him smile back.

“It was my duty, you don’t need to give me flowers for it.” He looked down, as if he was disappointed in himself. You smelt the flower, to show your hidden appreciation of the gesture. “Show me your hand.” You held your hands out, he hesitated not expecting you to command such a thing, but he did it as you asked. “Hurting at all?” You asked softly examining the cut.

“No, my lady.” His voice was gentle as always.

“It’s healing well.” You said running your finger tip along the length of the stitches, the sensation made him take his hand away, rubbing it against the side of his pants.

He grunted a little and cleared his throat, “All your doing, my Lady.”

You looked at him with a smirk, “How long have you been squiring for Lord Tyrion?”

“For a short time,”

“Well, you’ll need to learn to pour wine. You spill wine on every Lord in Westeros, sooner or later you’ll spill it on the wrong one.” You said walking towards a table, you grabbed a glass and a pitcher of wine.

“Pour me wine.” You said handing him a pitcher of wine.

You stepped closer towards him, making his swallow hard. But he took the pitcher nonetheless.

“hold the pitcher like this-“ You said moving his hands position with your own, “from the handle, and the bottom” You looked up into his eyes, noticing he was looking right at you “Keep your eyes on the glass.” You said, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in and going back to the task at hand.

“Like this?” He asked, his voice somewhat more confident.

“Mhmm.” The hum of your voice too close to him made him close his eyes for just a moment. He finished filling your cup, without spilling a drop, “Very good.” As you said it he and you looked at one another, his eyes were wide once again.

“What were you doing there, my lady?” He asked, with a genuine curiosity. “You said you were looking for your Lady, and forgive me for suspecting otherwise-”

“Eavesdropping.” You interrupted “I had heard they were sending Slynt away, and I wanted to hear it myself.”

“How did you hear of that?”

“Again, eavesdropping.” You smirked

“A-and what are you doing here, in Westeros? You were arrested?”

“It seems you were also eavesdropping.” You teased him.

“Uh well we were in the same room-” You ignored him,

“I left Bear Island to travel, during my travels a Gold cloak tried to force himself on me, so I defended myself.” You said in a matter of fact, you’d no regrets, and no pain towards the matter. However his big brown eyes looked saddened for you, pity, you couldn’t stand pity, “It’s alright, really.” You said trying to reassure him.

“Do you miss your home?” He asked, sweetly.

“I do,” You responded softly, strange how this man was able to gentle your harsh demeanor.

“What was it like?” When he asked it you were thrown off, no one had asked you anything about your home in a genuine way. No one had any interest in it beyond the same constant boring insults.

“Cold. Not just the temperature, the people. But it was beautiful there. Green, rivers, waterfalls.” You smiled softly thinking of it, and found yourself wondering about him, “What of you? You miss your home?”

“I didn’t have much of one, my Lady.” He lowered his head,

“How’d you get here?” Your eyes narrowed wanting to know more of him. Genuinely.

“I was the squire for a Ser Lorimer of the Westerlands army. One night he was drunk, and he stole a ham, he shared it with me. We were caught, and he was sentenced to hang for his crime but I was spared for my name.”

“Lucky boy.” You said with a smirk. One that made his stomach flip.

“You are different, with the men at the tables. You’re sweet and… simple- but you're not that.” He said, stammering, trying his best not to offend you.

Your smirk faded, “Men want sweet and simple. Men don’t beat things that are sweet and simple.”

“You’ve been beaten?” He asked as if it were a horrific discovery.

“Most girls have.” You said calmly in contrast

“I-I am sorry, My Lady.”

“That’s alright. "

“No, it’s not.”

“No, it’s not.” You smiled softly at him. “You’re a good man, for a southern man. Or just for a man.”

“Thank you, my lady.” He said with a slight grin.

“You don’t have to call me that. (Y/N), will do.”

“(Y/N)” he smiled to himself “(Y/N) Mormont… it is a pretty name.” His grin grew

“You never told me yours.”

“Ser Bronn told you-“

“But you never told me.” You interrupted.

“Podrick Payne, my- (Y/N)” He stumbled remembering to call you by your name.

“Well, goodnight then, my Podrick.” You said teasingly with a smirk.

Hearing you say those words, “my” followed by his name made a heat rush his face, a visible one. He licked his lips and bowed his head as he responded “Goodnight, (Y/N)” He said as he left you.

You smelt the flower once more before Margery barged in,

“A squire?”

NOTE: There is a serious drought of Podrick Payne fan fiction series on this app so I had to. And yes… as always my babygirls, we will be fucking. JUST HOLD ON… I don’t know dick about Slynt so his dialogue is probably off so i apologize if you love him or smth lmao. TAG LIST: This is a new series so if you want to be included comment or message me!

#podrick #podrick payne #podrick x reader #podrick x you #podrick x y/n #podrick payne x reader #podrick payne x you #podrick payne x y/n #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fic #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones #got fanfic #got fic #got #podrick headcanons

94 notes · View notes

mortalfaerie · 4 months

Text

𝕓𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕛𝕒𝕔𝕒𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕤' 𝕥𝕨𝕚𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 (+ 𝕚𝕟 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕖𝕟𝕒) (pt 1)

this concept is stuck in my brain so...

your were always in the shadow of your twin, jacaerys. he was born only ten minutes before you, but in doing so had outshined you for a lifetime.

while your grandfather might have bent the law further for you if you had been born first, he wouldn't do so for the rest of the realm - and being a girl, the birth of your immediately younger brother meant you wouldn't inherit driftmark, either.

that's not to say that you didn't love your brothers - they were your closest friends, especially after your mother had moved your family to dragonstone.

you missed your aunt helaena, however. at only two years your elder, she was more like a cousin or a sister to you, and as the only other girl you two had idled away long hours with tedious septas together.

for the first few months you wrote faithfully to eachother, but after the disaster at your aunt laena's funeral, an irrevocable schism has opened between factions of your family.

from that day, two more years would pass before you saw her again.

when helaena was thirteen, she came to dragonstone to claim a dragon. it was a cold and diplomatic trip which the king was too ill to attend and the queen had flatly refused to consider, and so the hand of the king escorted her along with a platoon of guards.

you were eleven years old, clasping hands with your twin on the windy shores of dragonstone as the princess' boat came ashore. all of you, even joffrey were ill at ease during this first meeting of factions in years. but, when the princess pulled back the hood of her cloak and stepped onto the beach, you found your heart hammering for an entirely different reason.

helaena had grown taller and more beautiful since you last saw her, though she seemed completely unaware of it as she anxiously took in her surroundings. she had all the beauty of the targaryen line in her, and the beginnings of what would make her a regal looking woman one day. and yet, she was softer in her features and appearance than the rest of your family in a way that was completely disarming.

though the feel of her visit was detatched and lacked the warmth of a family reunion, you found every excuse to seek her out over the duration of it. at first she was wary of you, no doubt because of your brothers and stepsisters and the role they had played in her brother's injury. after a few days though, she warmed and you slipped into a rapport like that before you had left for the island castle.

when it came time to venture up the dragonmont in search of a dragon, you begged and pleaded your mother to allow you to come with the princess - after all, your egg had never hatched and you lacked a dragon as well - and after exhausting the crown princess she relented.

on the dragonmont with a mixture of red keep guards and those loyal to rhaenyra, you and helaena camped on the mount for days, venturing to a different part of the mountain each day in search of dragons. at night, you shared a tent and kept eachother awake giggling and telling stories.

on the sixth day on the dragonmont, you met with the dragons dreamfyre and silverwing, who had belonged to two queens and sisters before you. after the pair of you successfully mounted the dragons and took to the skies, you returned to the beach of dragonstone with a renewed fire inside of each of you.

the night you returned to dragonstone's castle, a feast was held to jointly celebrate two dragons being claimed. you and helaena danced joyfully as the musicians played, and eventually you fell back to let your twin take your place. it was then you felt the first twist of jealousy in your stomach as jace made her laugh.

you snuck into the chamber helaena was staying in that night to recreate the little would you had when sharing a tent. that night, she had said to you before falling asleep, "you and i shall be bonded forever. dragon-bonded," she had said dreamily, then added, "soul-sworn."

before you could ask what she had meant by that, she was asleep.

#helaena targaryen #helaena targaryen x reader #helaena x reader #velaryon reader #strong reader #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon

111 notes · View notes

french-unknown · 6 months

Text

𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖊

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘: luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, robin 𝖈/𝖜: fluff, domestic 𝖜/𝖈: 2.6k +

| m a s t e r l i s t | - | p t . 2 | - | p t . 3 | | e v e n t . s u m m a r y |

𝖑𝖚𝖋𝖋𝖞

trick and treat

Attracted by all the lights on in the residential area of the island, you approached them with Luffy.

To your great astonishment, there were a large number of children wandering between the different houses in different costumes, more or less frightening. You were confused to see so many children outside at that hour. And above all, without supervision. However, after all the islands you had visited, the costumes didn't surprise you that much.

You then fixed your gaze on a particular group who went up to the steps of the house to your right.

They knocked on the door, and when a woman opened the door, they said "trick or treat" as they handed out each of the containers. Then, much to your confusion, the woman laughed before taking out a bag of candy which she shared among the children. As if it were perfectly normal to give candy to a group of costumed children who ring the doorbell after dark. You stayed where you were while the woman closed the door and the children left for the next house.

The same process began again.

On every street corner, with all the groups of children, everything happened the same way. Always with the same sentence.

Trick or treat?

As you glanced next to you to talk to Luffy about it, you noticed that he had also disappeared. You looked around in panic and ended up finding him alone at the entrance to a house a few meters from you.

You could only run toward him at the same moment he knocked on the door.

A woman came out as you reached him. She looked at you strangely and looked you up and down.

"Trick or Treat?" the black-haired boy almost yelled.

"Aren’t you too old for candy hunting?" She asked, perplexed.

"We’re never too old for candy!" Luffy declared with a laugh.

Faced with the innocence of the response, as well as the relaxed behavior of your partner, the woman also relaxed and laughed in turn. She seemed to be more comfortable.

"And what are you dressed in?" she questioned happily as she pulled out a bag of sweets from her back.

Immediately, Luffy took his straw hat off his head in order to turn it upside down and hold it out towards the woman as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"As pirates, ma’am!" He responded with good humor.

"You should improve your disguise, then." She laughed. "You two don't really look like them. You're not scary enough!"

"We're not this kind of pirates." He retorted.

The woman then stepped back before closing her door, not without greeting. Luffy then took your hand and walked away as well, waving.

You spent the rest of your evening being pulled from house to house by an excited Luffy who couldn't hold still at the thought of having more candy. He wasn't your lover anymore, just a little boy.

𝖟𝖔𝖗𝖔

haunted castle

It was evening, and night would soon fall.

However, thanks to a certain swordsman whose sense of direction equated with his abstinence, you found yourself at the exit of a dark and foreboding forest, looking at a gothic castle that seemed anything but welcoming. Nervously, you passed the large black wrought iron gates that demarcated the land and thus entered the gardens that surrounded the fortress.

Everything was fallow and unmaintained. The shrubs and bushes were in random shapes while the grass was tall and lush. The trees were so gnarled that you wondered if it was really normal. The winding sandy walking paths didn't make you want to venture into the plots either.

However, what terrified you the most was the feeling of being observed from the moment you went through the gates.

Unfortunately, the boot prints you saw in the sand—made obvious by the lack of other marks—forced you to move forward into the green space of the property. At first, you huffed loudly but you still went anyway.

You followed the footprints, eyes glued to the ground because of the fear, praying to find Zoro as quickly as possible.

Around you, you heard the vegetation rustling with its branches, leaves and thorns clashing. And this even if there was no wind. Furthermore, despite the abundance of shelter for animals, you heard no birdsong or rabbit footsteps. You understood that an October evening was not the most favorable but you still found it quite suspicious in such a lush environment for animals.

Something cold then touched your hand.

You jumped so hard that you felt the tension in your neck go down to your shoulders. A shiver of fear ran through your entire body and goosebumps immediately covered your arms without you being able to do anything.

Yet, when you looked at where the contact was coming from, there was nothing.

You wanted to leave.

From there, you started trotting to find Zoro and you finally found him walking between two bushes. Hands in his pockets, he walked quietly. You immediately jumped on him to ask him how he ended up there.

"I wanted to see if there was anyone in the castle to offer me a drink but I can’t get out of the garden." he explained naturally.

Suddenly, a child's laughter was heard behind you and when you turned around, there was nothing.

You immediately grabbed the swordsman's hand and towed him towards the exit. You ran as fast as you could with fear coursing through your veins as well. You were so scared that you were convinced that, if he put up the slightest resistance, you would have been ready to knock him out so you could drag his unconscious carcass out of there.

When you passed the gates, you didn't stop and continued to rush towards the boat.

𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖎

horror movie night

You and Nami were the only two who were assigned to guard the Sunny during this stopover. And the navigator wanted to spend the evening watching a movie.

What Nami wanted, Nami got!

So she convinced Sanji to keep the ship for a few more hours and took you to the nearest town to find a movie rental store. As soon as you entered the shop, you were immediately intrigued by the simplicity of the store. There was a desk, where a paunchy man was reading, as well as two shelves full of binders whose spines were annotated with words such as "romance", "detective" and "autobiography".

To your greatest amazement, Nami went straight to the one marked "horror".

You tried to hold her back at first but she avoided your hold and opened the binder. She flipped through the pages. You then noticed that, on each page, there was the title of a film with its summary and its official poster. But all these images of blood, killers and weapons made you a little uncomfortable.

"Um...Nami?" you called her.

She muttered in response, too busy reading the synopses.

"I’m not sure about the horror movie?" You continued, unsure.

"Come on!" She said, looking up at you. "I really want to see one. And then, if you're afraid, you can just snuggle up against me!"

The idea of being able to cuddle up to the girl you've been crushing on for a while made you shut up for good. You had been looking around for a few months but nothing had come of it yet. Still on cloud nine, you didn't follow when she retrieved one of the papers that interested her before bringing it to the man behind the counter.

When you reconnected with the outside world, the man came back from the back room with a Den Den Mushi who had probably already recorded the desired film.

"It’s 1,000 Berry to rent the Cameko. Do you have anything to project?" he asked then, facing Nami who shook her head, and he returned with another snail even bigger. "It's 1,000 more for the Proko that goes with it. That will, therefore, be 2,000 Berry. They must be returned in good condition and their care is your responsibility for the entire duration of the rental."

Nami tried to bargain, and when she reached a price she thought was fair, she paid the man so that you could finally leave with your two Den Den Mushi.

Arriving on the ship, you found Sanji waiting for you to leave and he had prepared hot chocolates for you as well as snacks. So you both settled into the beds in the women's quarters, warm under the covers, with your hot chocolates and snacks.

Nami started the movie and you spent the night pressed together, shaking in fear.

𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 SOURCE | onepiece.fandom.com - Den Den Mushi - The Cameko (カメコ, Kameko, VIZ: "Cam-snail") are baby Visual Den Den Mushi who have yet to gain the ability to display signals from other Visual Den Den Mushi. They are able to store images and videos, as well as transmit them as signals to their adult form, the Proko. - The Proko (プロコ, Puroko, VIZ: "Pro-snail") are an older Visual Den Den Mushi that have gained the ability to receive signals emanating from the Cameko, while simultaneously projecting and disseminating the visual content captured by the Cameko onto larger video displays either via wires connected to a display or by using their eye to project the light.

You just found my 1st Easter Egg!

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ (・º. • )

𝖚𝖘𝖔𝖕𝖕

pumpkins carving

"Mine is better." Usopp declared confidently as he wielded his scraping tool.

The two of you were sitting face-to-face, cross-legged, on the floor of his workshop. An old blanket was under your buttocks to protect the floor. Between you stood a dozen tools of all kinds, ranging from knives to scrapers to markers as well as, most importantly, two large pumpkins.

It had been at least an hour since Usopp came back with a pumpkin under each arm and asked you to dig one with him. You immediately jumped at the opportunity and, very quickly, this whole experience had turned into a competition.

Who would make the best Jack-o'lantern?

As soon as you had started gutting them—keeping the parts removed so Sanji could cook them, obviously—the sniper was already taunting you. He talked to you about ratios and measurements so that the eyes and mouth were perfectly proportioned to the size of the food.

But you preferred to go by instinct with your marker and your imagination.

Throughout the process, you saw him trying to cheat to see what your Jack-o'lantern looked like from trying to kiss you to peeking into or waiting for you to go to the toilet to go to your side of the blanket. Even after a few strokes with the spatula, he was still trying approaches.

Finally, after two intensive hours of pumpkin carving and with a sticky floor and hands, the Jack-o'lanterns were finished.

Then came the time to decide between you.

Obviously, you each voted for your creations so, to find out the winner, you asked the entire crew to vote for their favorite pumpkin. Unfortunately, the votes didn't help because, after four more votes from each side, you were still tied.

It was only when Sanji called a truce for the meal that you stopped bickering.

Despite this, when evening came, the little arguments were back. So you were still bickering when you were getting ready for bed and then when you were in the bed itself. When you were both exhausted, you decided to declare both winners as well.

Satisfied, you lay down comfortably to sleep. And there, in the crook of his arms, with the warm blanket covering you and his smell of gunpowder surrounding you, he kissed you on the forehead before whispering to you in the dark.

"Mine was better."

𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖏𝖎

winter dessert cooking

The kitchen of the Thousand Sunny was exceptionally mess-like.

Ingredients and dishes were lying all over the counter and it was mainly your fault. Whether it was the pot of honey that wasn't put away, the flour that you had unintentionally sprinkled outside of the bowl or the whisks and spatulas that were lying here and there, it didn't at all resemble Sanji's clean habits.

However, for the moment, he didn't really care.

For him, cooking deliciously smelled of honey and spices. His discerning nose even detected slight traces of citrus and vanilla. Besides, what mainly occupied him was you, in an adorable apron—at his request—who was stirring the dry ingredients in the bowl while keeping a nervous eye on the pan on the stove.

"It’s boiling!" You exclaimed hastily. "Sanji! It's boiling!"

"Pour the liquid into the bowl, then." He laughed at your disheveled but still adorable appearance.

You then rushed to the pan to put out the fire before carefully lifting it to pour its contents into your first container. Then you put the pan down and started stirring again.

"Sanji!" you called him. "There are lumps."

"Stir more." he replied, still leaning on the counter next to you to admire you.

But, instead of stirring more, you suddenly let go of the whip before turning towards him. In passing, you collected a small handful of flour which you threw at him meanly on his own apron. You rested your hip on the counter and crossed your arms before looking into his eyes.

"If I asked to cook this with you," you began."it was to cook WITH you. Not for you to stand and watch me."

At your sulking tone, Sanji just laughed lightly, even though inside he was exultant to see you pouting. So he approached you, smiling, and took your place in front of the bowl to start mixing again for you. Satisfied to finally see him working, you stayed by his side to watch him whip skillfully.

"Amour, can you get me the melted butter, please?" He asked, looking at you. When you returned with the requested ingredient, he temporarily stopped his task to lean towards you and kiss you gently. He finally pulls away from your lips after a short while. "Thank you."

And he mixed the butter with the preparation and poured everything into a dish that he handed to you. He then opened the oven and watched you put the gingerbread in the oven. Once he closed the door, he came up behind you to place kisses on your neck.

"We have 20 minutes of cooking time," he explained to you. "Any ideas for what to do until then?"

𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖓

exploring graveyards

When Robin had asked you earlier in the evening to get ready because she was taking you on a date, you had been ecstatic. You had imagined a walk in a romantic place, a meeting at the library or even, let's be crazy, a restaurant.

Yet, now that you found yourself walking with her through a cemetery, you were starting to regret it a little.

"I'm not sure we're allowed to just wander around here, Robin." You tried, hoping it would get you out of there.

She looked at you.

"It’s not like they’re going to come and complain to anyone." She answered you, smiling.

You smiled back at her even if yours was somewhat shaky. While you were uncomfortable walking around in the middle of the night, with no one around except your partner, among the graves of people you didn't even know, Robin seemed to be peaceful.

Happy even.

So you didn't dare say anything more and you simply took her hand before moving closer to her. But, while her discreet smile on her lips and her almost sparkling eyes told you that she was happy to be there, she said nothing. Not a single word to distract you from the unromantic or even terrifying setting.

The hooting of an owl above you made you jump.

As Robin chuckled at your leap, you asked her why she wanted to come here.

At first, you had simply asked the question to break the silence—and to make her forget your startle—but, as soon as she started to answer you, you were glad you had asked.

In fact, she then began to tell you that she was looking for the tomb of a very well-known researcher in the world of archaeology. Since she started, she continued by telling you what research he had carried out and how it had advanced her study circle. A soft, enjoying smile curled her lips as she spoke quietly and her eyes shone with her passion for history.

You then drank in her words as she focused on her interest in studying skeletons and what it could teach her about the person's life as well as the society that surrounded them before their death. She continued her speech throughout your visit to the cemetery to the point where, when she finally wanted to leave a few hours later, you had not noticed the time had passed.

You had been captivated.

𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖔𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖜!

𝖏𝖔𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖚𝖕𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @idsmash717 @lys-ada @xomingyu @parkyrr @yasmiinberkaa @dozcan123 @anotherproblemsos

#one piece #one piece x reader #luffy #luffy x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #nami #nami x reader #usopp #usopp x reader #sanji #sanji x reader #nico robin #nico robin x reader #halloween #halloween 2023

123 notes · View notes

the-depths-au · 2 months

Text

Zelda never returns after the battle with the Demon King. Link is determined to bring her back, no matter what it takes or where it takes him. So when the Light Dragon starts to dive into the Depths, which have remained dark and uncharted since the Gloom faded away, he prepares to descend as well.

the depths

a post-totk bad ending au.

Rated M: CW for mature themes, violence and blood.

beta-read by the amazing @zeldaelmo ❤️

[previous]

chapter 2 excerpt

The Forgotten Temple isn't particularly dangerous, but Link never likes to stay long. He’s spent the majority of his life venturing into places much worse than this–underground caves swarming with monsters, a castle dripping with poisonous rot, the belly of a labyrinth filled with hostile guardians–but everything about it just feels wrong. The moss and the decay and the heavy taste of mineral in the air suggest it’s been here for a very long time, likely built into the earth itself as Tauro surmises in his notes, but it feels out of place to Link. A temple of the Goddess at the bottom of a treacherous gorge? The largest recorded statue of Hylia hidden in the dark? He’s no architectural expert, and he doesn’t know how it would even be possible (then again, there are islands in the sky and an entire underworld beneath his feet), but it feels like the Forgotten Temple was once somewhere else entirely, transplanted into the canyon wall, and eventually abandoned.

Read the rest on ao3!

#the depths au #loz au #archive #chapter 2 #update #totk fanfiction #loz #loz fanfiction #zelink #totk #post totk #mind the tags

56 notes · View notes

writerpetals · 1 year

Text

sunrise promises | 🔞

; optional male lead smut | ☁️

He’s not as cold as you were expecting. He’s rather charming, and polite, and if you were in any other situation, you would probably swoon at his handsome features. You’re in no position to be a helpless romantic, however, having only met him just once before it was decided you would move into his castle and begin your life with him.

It was always destined to be like this. Prince takes over the kingdom. Prince needs an heir, so Prince finds someone he can marry quickly and quietly without causing tension between factions, or another war. You were the safe bet, having been the princess on the small island his fleet could sail to and needed help as far as resources for your people went. He took over your island, promising your people would be in good hands, and you were sent on the long trip to the next continent to be with him.

You expected him to have his way with you the first night you arrived. After all, he is in need of an heir and it’s truly your only value to him. He didn’t, however, only settling you in your private sleeping quarters so you could get accustomed to his castle, and to your new life. He kept his distance for weeks, only being polite enough to greet you during breakfast and make small talk. Though he was always polite, there was something intimating about him that kept your eyes down and kept you from only answering when you were spoken to. Maybe it’s the power he held, knowing his authority over a kingdom five times the size of your island. All that responsibility couldn’t come without being strong-willed and knowing what he wanted.

Two months pass, however, and he doesn’t make a move, or even an effort to get to know you. At times you feel like a burden to him. Some nights you even go without seeing him at all. Loneliness takes hold, and soon you find yourself getting the courage to explore the castle, and soon the castle’s grounds. You get to know the keepers of the grounds. They become fond of you in an instant. Even times they help you sneak out when you’re not supposed to, and do things that could land you in hot waters.

Like now, for instance, where you’re just outside the castle’s grounds, venturing off into the orchard. You had decided when you woke up, you would attempt a peace offering for your new king. Maybe if he wasn’t going to make the first move to get to know you better, you could try your luck.

An apple pie could do the trick, you think, reaching to pluck the most delicious looking, bright red apple you could find in the orchard. Then another, and another until you create a pile of apples in the swoop of your dress you’re holding up. Excitedly, you turn to head back to the castle when you have enough. You’re positive the chef won’t mind you in the kitchen if it’s for the king. You’ve learned a thing or two just tagging along by his side as he cooks.

However, you’re frozen in place at the sight of one of one of the castle’s guards standing at the edge of the orchard. If a lot of the help has become friendly with you over time, there are still a few that you just haven’t warmed up to yet.

“What are you doing, princess?” The guard, who you can’t remember their name in the moment due to being surprised, marches toward you. His brow is furrowed and his shiny, metal armor clinks with every step as he nears. “Trying to run away finally?”

Your eyes widen at the accusation. “What… no I was just-”

“Come along, then,” is all he says, gripping you sternly by the arm. The apples fall to the dirt as he drags you out of the orchard, ignoring all your pleas and protests. Of course you weren't running away. That would surely get you executed to go back on a treaty. You aren’t as dumb as this guard thinks you are.

But he is a lot stronger than you, forcefully pulling you toward the castle. You tug your arm and try to release yourself from his grip, but it’s no use, and soon you’re face to face with the King in a room you’ve never visited before. There are other guards around him, everyone leaned over a table with aged and dirty maps spread out all around.

He raises his eyes to look at you, then down to look at the grip the guard has on your arm. He frowns.

“What’s this all about?” The King steps around the guards closest to him, making his way around the table to step in front of you. The shyness overwhelms you once again in his presence. He has a way of making you feel small, yet flushed. As if he’s looking deep inside of you with every glance.

“The princess was attempting to run away!” The guard exclaims, and he raises a brow. You open your mouth to protest, but the second his eyes meet your own, you close your lips. “I stopped her.”

He takes a few seconds to think, then waves his hand in the air. “Men…” is all he says, but the guards in the room understand their presence isn’t needed in the moment. They each take their leave, and the guard holding your arm tight finally releases you. Now, he and you are alone, and the room feels suddenly so much smaller.

He sighs, leaning against the table behind him, but not before taking your hands gently in his own. The gesture surprises you. It’s the first time he’s made an effort to even touch you since the two of you were married. His thumbs run carefully along your flesh. The action sends warmth surging through your body.

“Am I really that terrible that you’re trying to run away from me?” His tone is half joking, half sorrow. As if he realizes he’s been so distant toward you.

“N-No,” you mumble, shaking your head. Then you take a deep breath, wanting so badly not to be intimidated by him. “I just wanted to bake you something. I wanted fresh fruit.” Your voice is low, but you manage to get the words out without stuttering. It’s a start.

He grins. Your heart skips a beat from his smile. “Well, that does sound delicious, doesn’t it?” He pushes away from the table, dropping your hands. Suddenly you miss the warmth of his touch, as if it’s kept you alive forever. “How about we go pick some apples together?”

Your eyes light up. It’s the most surprising thing that’s happened to you in a while. Happily, you agree, and together the two of you make a trip to the orchard. He makes small-talk, telling you he’s sorry for the guard, and it won’t happen again. You’re just happy he’s putting in the effort to carry on a conversation. He tells you he’s only been busy, and realizes he hasn’t paid you nearly enough attention. You can’t help but to blush at that, watching him grab apples from the tree as if it’s nothing, carrying a big pile in his arms for you.

You end up baking him the most delicious pie he’s ever had, according to him. The sight of him happily eating your dessert fills you with joy. You finally feel as if the two of you have taken a full step forward in getting to know one another and becoming closer.

But soon, he is busy with being a new King again. You know you shouldn’t complain considering he has people to look after, threats to defend the kingdom from, and deals to be made. You understand the life of a King already due to growing up royalty, but there are still times when you’re lonely, or bored, or both.

When you’re bored, you find yourself wandering off to the stables. You’ve always loved animals, and you can’t help yourself when you spot the lonesome brush and a horse that needs grooming. After picking up the brush from a wooden stool close by, you reach out your hand at the mare with the reins of her bridle tied to a pole in the stables.

She takes a sniff of your hand then lowers her head, allowing you to run your palm along her nose and between her eyes. She huffs from happiness as you step to the side to begin to brush the silky, black coat along her neck. As you do so, she reaches around with her mouth, sniffing your dress before capturing a piece between her lips.

“Hey!” Giggling, you push the horse’s mouth away to continue brushing her. Though the peace of bonding with an animal doesn’t last for long, hearing a gruff voice just outside the stable’s doors.

“I don’t think this is a place for a princess.” The guard from before finds you once again. You would swear he had some sort of tracker on you, maybe a human spy. Maybe he’s been stalking you as part of an evil plan to get rid of you.

You shake your head from the absurd thought. “Good thing I’m a Queen, then.” He won’t catch you by surprise this time. You’re prepared for him, knowing he wishes to get you in trouble with the King for whatever reason. Maybe he just likes chaos.

“You should be in the castle,” he informs you, striding close with his armor clinking. The sound absolutely aggravates you at this point. “Away from harm. Where The King can know you’re safe.”

“I don’t think The King minds if I brush a horse.” You ignore the temptation of rolling your eyes. You have to be a proper queen, of course, and you wonder if that title gives you the authority to get rid of the annoying guard. In the moment, you’re hoping so.

“Why don’t we go ask him?” With that, he grabs you once again. His fingers wrap tight around your wrist, making you cry out for him to release you. He doesn’t listen, however, disobeying the orders of his queen in favor of earning a good deed done with The King. You aren’t sure why this guard has it out for you, but you know you won’t take it lying down.

“Let me go!” you fight him, tugging on your arm, pushing him away with your free hand. He ignores all your attempts, however, growing bold as he drags you up to the castle and through the main halls, finding The King in his study. The two of you come bursting in, with you crying to be released and the guard mumbling just to you about being quiet.

“What’s the meaning of this?” The King stands abruptly from his chair, folding the papers he was looking over in half. “Let her go!”

The guard drops your arm immediately. “She was out in the stables, sir.” The guard lifts his chin and straightens his back, chest buffed. “It’s not safe for a princess-”

“A queen,” you interrupt, glaring at him from the side. You can’t miss your king’s amused expression only for a split-second.

He looks over the two of you. No doubt he takes in your messy hair and flustered face from being dragged around once again. Your clothes look disheveled, and you have the meanest expression you can possibly muster up in the moment. The guard looks smug, like he should receive some extra coin for bringing in a criminal.

“Please, leave us…” hewaves his hand and the guard is disappearing through the doors once again. A few seconds pass. He sighs. You don’t say a word. Your heart races, wondering if he’s mad at you. “Up to trouble again, huh?” He smirks. He’s not upset.

“I… got lonely. And bored…”

His face twists from amusement to sorrow with just a few words. His eyes lower, shoulders falling. “I’m sorry, my Queen. I’ve been neglecting you since you arrived.”

His words have your feet carrying you to him. You can’t stop yourself. “I understand you’re busy. You have a kingdom to look after.” You stop right before him, lowering your head.

“It’s no excuse.” When he reaches for you, cupping your cheek in his hand, it takes you completely by surprise. “I know these arrangements are not easy. Moving here, being my Queen… has left you feeling unwanted. For that, I am truly sorry.”

As he speaks, you look into his eyes to see the sincerity, the longing to be better. His mistakes the past few months since you’ve arrived show in the expression on his face. He feels guilty.

“I’m grateful for you to take me as your Queen.” As he takes your hands in his own once again, you can’t help but to smile. “I want to be a good Queen to you. I want to make you happy.”

“As do I with you, my Queen.” He takes your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss over your flesh to warm your soul. He’s so gentle with you. You can’t even imagine him being angry, yelling or fighting, or being in battle. When it comes to you, there’s a softness to him that you’re realizing for the first time. Not only is he polite, and handsome, but he’s kind, and careful, and wants to be better for you. “Please know I want the best for you. No longer will you feel lonely, I promise.”

The King keeps his promise as much as he can in the coming weeks. Between his duties, he takes time out to get to know you, talk with you, enjoy his meals with you. You open yourself to him, letting him know every stupid little detail about your life before arriving to be with him. You love his laugh when you tell a joke. He loves the way you lean into him to let him know you’re listening.

For the first time, you feel like you belong here with him. The guards stay away at his orders (and a certain guard getting an absolute earful), as long as you promise not to venture too far off. He is still concerned with your safety, after all, but doesn’t want you to feel trapped. You spend the time he is busy by roaming the halls, picking more fruits, and even starting your own garden.

You couldn’t be more happy. Well, other than the fact that you’re still sleeping alone. At first, the thought of being intimate with him intimidated you, knowing he only wanted an heir and nothing more. Now, you begin to yearn for his touch. Thoughts of your children play in your mind, wondering whose features they will take. Maybe they will have his laugh and smile, and your sense of determination, and a bit of stubbornness.

While the images fill your heart with joy, you also begin to long for your King. You want to be close to him. You want to sleep in the same bed, and feel him hold you. You want to wake up with the sun shining on his face, and you have made up your mind that’s exactly what you will get.

He is too polite for his own good, you realize. Always the gentlemen, of course he wouldn’t make the first move. He doesn’t want you to feel forced into being with him. His royal status forced him to make a decision over getting married and having an heir, but now that he has you, you’ve come to realize he is just as careful with your relationship as he is with you.

You find him one night looking over books by the fireplace. He’s settled on a bear skin rug, his fur robes and leather shirt lay beside him. As if he got too hot lost in the words of the books. You smile as you stand in the doorway of the study, listening to the crackling log burning bright, studying the outline of his figure, noticing the scars on his back from sword fights and war. Suddenly, you want to kiss each and every one of them until they disappear. If they never vanish, you wouldn’t mind kissing him forever.

“My King…” You earn his attention with a quiet voice, not wanting to startle him as you step near. He pulls his eyes away from the torn pages to look up at you with a smile.

“My Queen.” He snaps the book shut before patting the spot on the rug next to him. “What brings you to me this evening?” His tone is playful, making you all the more relaxed in the moment as you settle next to him.

“Longing for your company is all,” you tell him honestly. The words bring a smile to his beautiful face. The warm glow of the fire illuminates all the perfect parts of him. His skin shines between the shadows of the flames. He’s so unbelievably gorgeous to you in the moment you can hardly breathe. How can such a human exist? “I was thinking…”

“As you often do,” he teases. You can’t help but to giggle.

“I’ve been here for months now,” you begin, voice growing quieter by the second the crackling fire nearly engulfs each syllable. He has your undivided attention regardless. “I want to be a good Queen to you. I want to make you happy, and I feel like we’ve made such progress, don’t you think?”

“Of course,” he responds without a second thought.

“But… we haven’t even kissed yet.” The heat swarms your cheeks as the words come out. You almost can’t believe you said such a thing to him, but you know it needs to be spoken. “We’ve barely even touched. We don’t sleep in the same bed, and I just wonder if we-”

The words are caught off by him leaning close, gripping your waist with two strong hands to pull your body to him. A gasp fills the room, suddenly so close to him, his face, his lips… you can barely think straight.

“It’s a kiss my Queen is longing for?” He has a cheeky tone as he asks. It’s so hard to be intimidated by him as of late when he can relax your body and ease every ounce of worry at once. He loves to play and joke and tease. You bite your lip and nod. His smile lights up the room. “Then it’s a kiss my Queen shall get.”

Your heart threatens to leap out of your chest as he draws near. Within seconds, you feel the softness and warmth of his lips taking yours. He leans against you, body to body, as he kisses you tenderly, letting the world around you drown out until it’s just him and you. There’s passion as he deepens the kiss, and you could drown in his beautiful lips forever. He holds your body close, tenderly, gently, nibbling on your bottom lip until they’re parting for him. Effortlessly he tastes your tongue on his own, and you can’t stop yourself from whimpering against his mouth. Heat bursts from between your legs so suddenly it’s almost overwhelming.

He only pulls away from your lips to carry his kisses down to your neck. Your head falls back in an instant, giving him access to any part of your body his lips want to press. Moans fill the air, body coming alive from finally getting to feel him so close.

You call for him by name for the first time, hearing him groan against your flesh because he loves the way it sounds coming from you. When your voice trembles. When your tone is so desperately needy in the moment.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he pulls away, hands still roaming your sides as if he’s waiting for permission. “What does my Queen want?”

“I want you,” you tell him, unashamed and without hesitation. This time, you’re the one to pull him close, wrapping a hand around his neck so his lips fall against your own. Whimpering into the kiss, your fingers disappear between the strands of his hair, back falling to the rug, his body resting between your legs. His hands wander from your sides to your chest, caressing your breasts over your flimsy, lace negligee you adorn. It’s so thin you feel the heat of his palm soak through to your skin, feeling warmth engulf your entire body.

He wastes no more time giving you what you need. His roaming hands begin to tug on the lace of your nightgown. Effortlessly it falls from your shoulders until you’re shimmying out of the needless thing, leaving you bare for him against the rug. He takes in a sharp breath as he stares over your body. Flickers of flame dance over your soft skin. You’re completely vulnerable to him, but you know he wants to take care of you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as if it’s the first time seeing you. In a way, it is, but his tone suggests it’s like unearthing a lost and forbidden treasure, amazed at your beauty in the moment as you lay beneath him. He can’t help himself, he needs you just as much. “I want to make my Queen feel good.”

The words come out in a groan seconds before he dips his head to your body. Tasting every inch of you. Kissing. Licking. Becoming so full of you in the moment as his lips and tongue trail over your flesh. Your mind grows numb when he tends to your breasts, taking his time to kiss in the valley between before flicking his tongue over a nipple and taking it into his mouth. Your back arches from the rug, so hot and desperate and needy. You want him to kiss everywhere all at once yet you love how he takes his time to cherish you.

His mouth lowers down to your stomach, past your belly button to press kisses against your mound. The sensation sends a chill through your body, so eager to feel his mouth between your thighs.

“I want to eat your pretty pussy, sweetheart.” He practically groans the words between kisses. All you can do is release a heavy sigh as your thighs fall open for him. He takes in the sight of you so ready and waiting for him. Chest heaving in anticipation. Eyes fluttering. Thighs open and it’s all for him. “Does my Queen want that? Does she want to come on my tongue as I eat her pussy?”

The sinful words shake you to your core. Your body trembles from just the thought. All you can do is whimper a simple ‘yes’. The King smirks, lowering his mouth to your body once again to press his tongue to your folds. The moment he licks your pussy for the first time, a gasp spills from your lips, hands falling to entangle fingers in his hair. He massages your slit between gentle kisses against your flesh. He takes his time, licking softly before leaving an open-mouthed kiss over your clit. The sensation fills your body with heat, already so on edge from having him taste you for the first time.

“Tastes so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles between your thighs. “So wet for me.” He licks from your entrance to your clit, sending a shiver down your spine before the warmth swells again. Juices drip from your walls onto his tongue, allowing him to lick every drop over and over.

You cry out his name. The fingers between the strands of his hair begin to tighten. He groans at the sudden sharp pain, but he loves it, making it known as he nearly growls between your legs. His tongue tends to your folds in a way you’ve never felt, becoming breathless in the moment as the pleasure begins to swell. You become a stuttering, whimpering mess beneath him, but from the way he groans against your flesh, you’re sure he loves it.

“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart,” he commands in a deep, stern tone, full of lust as he aligns two of his fingers to your entrance before easing them inside your soaked heat. “Tell me how it feels when I eat my Queen’s pussy.” His mouth falls to your body once again, licking and sucking and tasting you as he pumps his fingers deep inside of you.

“God,” you cry out, head falling back, eyes screwing shut. “It feels so good… please… don’t stop.” The words barely escape your lips between moans. Your voice becomes hoarse, strained and so weak from his pleasure. You feel the tension tightening, the heat swelling, the peak nearing so close you can almost taste it.

The expanse of bliss comes tumbling down around you, engulfing you in red hot warmth as the electricity of his pleasure surges through your body. You come against his tongue, juices spilling onto his flesh, thighs tightening around his head. He never slows his tongue, riding out the bliss right along with you, licking up every drop of release you give him. Your walls squeeze the two fingers inside of you, feeling so overwhelmed with lust and pleasure your mind grows hazy.

Then the rush of the high begins to evaporate, leaving you trembling around him, too sensitive for his mouth. Gently, you push him away as he removes his tongue and fingers from you. You’re breathless, chest heaving, eyes loosely closed. The only thing that can be heard is the crackling fire and your attempts to catch the breath in your lungs.

He crawls over your body, pressing his kisses to your cheek, your temple, your forehead, letting you know he’s still right there with you. Taking care of you. Loving you.

Suddenly you want more of him. Not even just the pleasure. You want to feel him closer. You want to feel him inside of you. You want the two of you to become one, and you want him to find his own release, his own bliss.

“My King,” you whisper. He chuckles softly, kissing your lips once until you can carry on. “Make love to me.”

Staring into his eyes, you see the warmth and love that he’s been keeping at bay. The small grin on his lips shows relief just as much as it shows how the words move him. He settles between your legs after pushing his leather pants down to his thighs. His lips fall to your own once again. He takes his time. He wants to cherish this feeling.

Your arms wrap around him, pulling him close, melting into the kiss, loving your King more and more as the seconds pass. In a moment, he’s easing his length into you, filling you up, claiming you as his own. You whimper his name for the hundredth time, but he doesn’t get tired of hearing it. His cock thrusts into you so deep you’re nearly seeing stars, but you don’t tear your eyes away from him. Instead, you press your forehead to his, loving to be wrapped around him while so full of him.

“Make love to me, my King,” you repeat, beginning to move your hips against him, moaning when his cock hits just the right spot. “Fuck me, please.”

He groans at the request. How could he ever deny his Queen? Part of him wishes he didn’t spend all this time ignoring you, but he intends to make up for it now. His hips begin to move against you, thrusting his cock deeper inside of you, pushing up to hit the spot that makes your toes curl. Soon he falls into a rhythm of making love to you, of fucking you, just like you wanted. His pace increases, falling into the moment and letting it take hold of him. Falling in love with being wrapped up in your warmth and hearing your whimpers and moans of pleasure.

“You feel so good,” he groans, deep strokes of his cock inside your pussy letting you know he means the words. “So fucking good and all mine.” His head dips to your neck, kissing, licking, sucking your flesh as he fucks you. Your legs wrap around his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper, harder, the both of you falling into a bliss you’ve never experienced.

Your bodies become one. Groans and moans mix with the crackling fire beside you. The room becomes so small, only the two of you needed and nothing else. He makes love to you just like you asked, and you can’t help but to whisper the three little words to him as the both of you reach a new kind of bliss. You tell him you love him, over and over as he comes inside of you. Both of your bodies tremble with need. Both of you fill the loneliness that has kept you apart. Both of you are in love, and now the two of you realize as much as you begin to come down from the pleasure.

He holds you close in the aftermath. And though he didn’t realize it, he was fulfilling another request of yours by sleeping next to you until the sun shines on both of your bodies in the morning.

#bts smut #marvel smut #call of duty smut #twilight smut #harry potter smut #jungkook smut #loki smut #nct smut #got7 smut #monsta x smut #stray kids smut #harry styles smut #ghost smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #x reader #x reader smut

627 notes · View notes

scotianostra · 2 months

Note

Ooh, what’s Edinburgh like? Moving there next year hopefully, from Africa, and after a few quick trips I can’t say I’ve gotten too much of a sense of the city :(

I'm kinda biased, but it's a good place, quite small and easy to get around, the main bus serice is Lothian Buses, for a flat fare of £2 you can get from ato b on one bus, for £5 cash you can hop on and off, the best value is paying by debit card , what they call TapTapCap from as little as £4.80 per day and £22 per week, so if you are one 3 or more buses in one day it caps at £4.80, and £22 is the most you will pay fr a week. The bus service is very good and I use their bustracker, find it on Google Play "My Bus Edinburgh" The vast majority of Museums and Art Galleries are free, only charges tend to be if there are special exhibitions, like The National Museum of Scotland had a Doctor Who exhibition last year. There are two main train stations, Waverley and Haymarket, and several small ones and stops.

Most people don't realise that Edinburgh and the surrounding areas have some great beaches, Portobello is the best in the city, ad has plenty of places to eat and drink at there. Cramond Beachis a mecca for dog walkers, there is a Causeway there where you can explore Cramond Island, just watch the tide times. There are plenty of parks and green spaces, the city is officially the greenest city in the UK, with almost half the city (49.2%) being classed as 'green space'.

If you are relatively fit there are plenty hills to climb to get great views, some are very easy, Calton Hill, Corstorphine to name but two. Arthur's Seat offers different routes to the summit of varying difficulty, but you can actually drive so far up and just make the easy climb to the top, there are three man made "Lochs" around Arthur's Seat, if you're lucky you will see Otters at Dunsapie, Duddingston and St Margarets have plenty swas and ducks. For more serious walkers the Pentland Hills are a great place to explore, there is even a herd of oor Highland "Hairy Coos" up there. If you can ski, there is a dryslope on The Pentlands, the longest in the UK.

Pubs and clubs are a plenty, I have no idea of your age as you have decided to remain anon, but many places cater for students, prices vary, I pay between £2 and £4 for my drinks, although the touristy places will charge you up to twice this amount, over £6 for a drink is not unusual.

Of course we have the Festival, well there are several throughout the year, Edinburgh gets the tag of Festival City at times. The main one is in August and the population of Edinburgh is said to double in the time, licensed premises are automatically given an extension to their opening hours, some open to 5 in the morning.

It's a safe city with a low crime rate, but as with other places you have to be aware of your own safety. If you plan on taking in the paid attractions The Castle wil set you back about £20, as will The Palace of Holyrood House. Opposite the Palace is The Scottish Parliament, you can visit thisfor free and sit in while it is in session. If you are planning on venturing around Scotland and like your history I recommend a membership of Historic Scotland, again I don't know your age, but prices start at under £3 a month and are less than a fiver for adults over 24. National Trust of Scotland also offer meberships from £3.35 to £5.80.

Can't really think of much more to put for now, perhaps my followers can make suggestions, or ask questions?

Oh and pack your umbrella get a waterproof jacket, even in summer we can get some heavy showers, naturally you will be aware it can get cold as well, invest in a decent winter jacket and layers to keep warm.

I hope this has been helpful.

#scotland #scottish #history #edinburgh #Advice

40 notes · View notes

minaturefics · 24 days

Text

Whispered Words

Request: Can I request an aragorn x reader where the reader is a queen from a faraway land? The fellowship came to his land to ask for help and Aragorn instantly fell in love? Whatever you like to add!

A/N: Ngl, I feel like I went off the rails a bit here (still trying to get into the groove again). I tried to create and integrate a somewhat convincing land/people. And the fic is mid-war so idk how romantic it really is. Still, I hope you enjoy it!!!

Aragorn x Reader

Fem reader

No content warnings

2.5k words

---

You sat back in your throne of twisting coral and straightened the crown of mother-of-pearl shards on your head. All the torches in the throne room were lit, the fires flickering blue and purple, and the faded banners of your country adorned the walls. The coastal guard had alerted you to intruders — a company of four — that were swiftly captured and brought to the crumbling castle.

Who would dare sail the black waters? Who would dare to venture so close to the graveyard of the Númenóreans? There was only one, you thought, who would be desperate enough, bold enough, to endeavour such a treacherous trip — the returned heir of Gondor.

The rumours had flowed to you, to your kingdom, carried by the waters of the Anduin and the creatures that inhabited it. There were stories of the encroaching shadow of Mordor, of the growing strength of the Corsairs of Umbar, even of the awakening of the Ents. For years you had hoped that the dangers would remain on the continent, but it seemed that the kingdom’s luck had run out.

You reached for your sceptre, a beautiful thing of wrought gold and pearl, and nodded at your guards to let them in.

The large wooden doors creaked open and revealed a curious array of companions — a man, an elf, a dwarf, and a wizard. The wizard you knew, one of the fabled Maiar, but the rest…

They walked forward hesitantly, eyes scanning the room, until they stood before you. They were waterlogged and bedraggled, their clothes creased, sticking to their forms, their hair hanging in stringy strands. Even the elf, so noble and graceful, stood in a dishevelled mess, and you fought a smile.

The wizard bowed first and the rest followed suit. You eyed the man, taking in his dark hair and his ripped clothing. This was the heir of Gondor? He looked like a mere Ranger, a man of the land. He raised his head and a pair of keen grey eyes pierced you.

Your breath hitched in your throat and your fingers tightened around the sceptre.

“I know why you have come,” you said.

The elf and the dwarf shared astonished looks, but the man stood straighter and said, “Then you know there is not a moment to lose. I will speak plainly if Your Highness allows.” You inclined your head and he continued. “I am Aragorn, son of Arathron, heir to the throne of Gondor. My companions — Gimli, son of Gloin, Legolas of Mirkwood, and Gandalf the White.

“We have come to request your aid against Sauron of Mordor. Your kingdom may be safe for now, removed from the continent, but it will only be a matter of time before Sauron turns his eye towards the west.”

That, you already knew. But even so, to send your creatures, your people, into battle… There was little hope in defeating the overwhelming forces of Sauron, but here, sequestered away and shrouded by a vengeful sea, your people might still yet live.

“What will you offer me in return?”

“In return?” Gimli frowned, his chest puffing. Aragorn raised a hand to silence him and the dwarf fell to quiet grumbling.

“Land,” Aragorn said. “A home, an island, close enough to the continent for trade. It is wild and empty, but the land can be worked.”

“You speak of Tolfalas,” you murmured, thinking of the rocky and lonely island in the Bay of Belfalas.

His offer was a good one. It was not an easy life for you or your people, surrounded by tumultuous seas, battered by frequent storms. The bay would be sheltered, there would be plenty of catch and the weather would be temperate enough to farm properly, and of course, there would be trade with the coastal cities. It could be a place where your people could grow and thrive.

“Our people once were allies,” you said to Aragorn. “When your ancestors’ hubris destroyed them, it nearly destroyed us too.”

“This is not hubris, Your Highness,” he said, voice firm and impassioned, stepping forward. “Hubris would be to sit here and think that your kingdom would be beyond his reach. Hubris would be to think that you alone could survive him. Together there is still a chance we might drive his forces back, but alone we would fail.”

Aragorn straightened and squared his shoulders, he lifted his chin, and there in the ghostly light of the hall, he stood, a true king.

A heat flared in your stomach.

“Very well. You have our support.”

He broke into a smile, and gone was the solemn son, the honourable heir. Instead, before you stood a man, handsome and strong, and your traitorous heart thudded in your chest.

Aragorn settled down in the hull of the ship, feeling each sharp rise and fall of the waves, and tried to get comfortable on the cushioned bench. Rain pelted the deck above him like a volley of arrows and the sky rumbled like a distant war drum. It was unfortunate that they had to sail back to the continent in a storm, but you had supplied them with a ship of your people, sturdy enough to withstand any tempest. He was glad that they had secured your allegiance, and he had no doubt it would be invaluable when Sauron began his assault in earnest.

He had heard and read about your kind, the Númenórean’s oldest allies, people of land and sea, shapeshifters of a sort, but to meet one, to meet you…

He thought of how you looked on your throne of dead coral, formidable and beautiful, your gaze sharp and your painted lips grim. He had seen the flicker of amusement on your face, the hint of a smile, when they stood, dripping onto the black marble floor. Such a lovely, lonely queen, the leader of a dying race, the steward of a fading land.

Were it not for the weight of war on his shoulders, he would have been convinced that he had wandered into a fairy tale. For so long all he had been concerned with was his relentless work as a Ranger, of his inescapable duty as king, and yet when he had laid eyes on you those swirling thoughts vanished. Proud, noble brow, beautiful, determined eyes, graceful, strong shoulders.

His heart had leapt from his chest and he was still yet to retrieve it.

He reached for the strange pendant around his neck and held it up to the lantern. It was an iridescent shell, gleaming purple and pink, that curved and spiralled to a point, much like a war horn. The memory of you giving it to him rose in his mind.

“It is the custom of our people,” you said with an amused smirk. “It allows us to speak across leagues of land and sea.”

“I have not heard of such a thing,” he muttered, turning the shell in his hand, running his dirty thumb over the polished surface.

You tugged a similar shell out from under your robes. “They are a matched pair.”

His heart stuttered. Was it possible that you felt the same inkling of connection as he did?

“They were originally used by lovers, but they were soon adopted for logistical arrangements,” you said and he pushed down the rising feeling in his chest. “Though,” you continued, smile growing mischievous, “the way to use them has not changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“To harken to the paired shell, one has to kiss one’s own. There is a limit to how much one may speak, but it should be sufficient for us to arrange where and where to deploy our armies.”

Aragorn twisted the shell between his fingers. It felt too intimate to press his lips to it, to speak, knowing you would be holding yours close to your cheek, listening.

“Aragorn!” Gimli called from the top of the stairs. “We are emerging from the storm.”

“I can see the continent on the horizon,” Legolas added.

Aragorn glanced down at the shell. Perhaps now would be a good time to test it. He listened for their retreating steps and, feeling foolish, brought the shell hesitantly to his lips. It was cool and smooth, and it carried the scent of the ocean. It glowed, illuminating a sphere of light around it.

“Aragorn?” Your voice was clear, but quiet, and he brought it closer to him. “Has something already gone awry?”

“No,” he chuckled, strangely relieved and soothed by the sound of your voice. “I simply wish to inform you that we have made it out of the storm. Dol Amroth is in sight.”

“That is good news. I am corralling my forces, we will soon follow behind you. The larger fleets we will send to Dol Amroth to defend against the corsairs, and our smaller army of creatures we will send up the Anduin.”

“That will do for now.”

The shell’s light pulsed and began to fade.

“We will not be able to speak for a few more hours,” you said, voice faint and thin. “Until then…”

“Until then,” he murmured but the shell’s light had already vanished.

It had been a gruelling three weeks. True to your word, you had deployed your armies as you had planned with Aragorn. In the Bay of Belfalas, the dark ships of Umbar were repelled by the hallowed vessels of your people, and up the Anduin swam swarths of sharp-toothed monsters to Pelargir and Osgiliath. For three weeks you had muttered into your shell, had cradled it to your ear, savouring the snatches of conversation with Aragorn.

“We are entering the Paths of the Dead soon,” he said. “I hope we will emerge with good news.”

“Be careful, Aragorn. I, too, have heard the stories of that path. The Dead will not be forgiving.”

“I do not fear them.”

“But I fear for you.”

“I promise you, we will be on our guard.”

“I had forgotten how enchanting the race of men can be,” you said. “Even in war they play their flutes and harps.”

“The people must take pleasure where they can.”

“When this is over, I think I shall learn.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and soothing. “Dol Amroth is known for its skillful harp players. I’m certain you will be able to find a good teacher.”

“Perhaps one day we can welcome you to Tolfalas with the sound of harps.”

He hummed, a low, pleased rumble. “I look forward to that day.”

“Aragorn, for Valar’s sake, please answer,” you grit out. “Word of Pelennor has reached me. Are you alive?”

There was silence, and then, a whisper, “Yes. But we have suffered greatly.”

“The sun, it has been blotted out.”

“The men are losing hope.”

“I have faith, Aragorn,” you whispered, picturing him standing in your halls, strong and noble. “I have faith in you.”

“That brings me more comfort than you know.” His voice was soft and tender, and your heart stirred. “You bring me more comfort than you know.”

“We are marching for the Black Gates,” he said, grim.

“You go beyond my aid. We will repel what forces we can here in the bay and along the Anduin.”

“If you do not hear from me —”

“No. We will see each other again, Aragorn.”

“We may not,” he said. “And so now I say: I am glad to have met you. I am glad that we were able to honour our ancestors’ history.”

The shell pulsed.

“Aragorn…”

And the light faded.

You had seen, had felt, the destruction of the ring, even all the way in Dol Amroth. There had been cheering in the street, tears of grief, of relief, and the Sea-ward Tower’s bell chimed in victory. Aragorn had answered you desperate calls, assuring you that he was alive, and made promises to ride down to the coastal city when his troops had settled.

You sat on the docks, dangling your bare feet into the cool water, and watched the setting sun paint the sky orange and pink. An odd look perhaps, for a dignified queen, but after the horrors and terrors, you felt that it was a necessary indulgence. You stared at your rippling reflection, wishing you could shift form and vanish into the embrace of the ocean, just for a moment. Alas, that would be too much of an indulgence; you needed to be available should any matter arise.

You thought of Aragorn, of his steely grey eyes, his peppered beard, his toothy grin, and your heart fluttered. Who would have thought that a descendant of the Númenor would stir your heart so? Or perhaps it was not so much of a surprise, given the blood that ran through both your veins.

Aragorn’s voice rang out, calling your name, and you fumbled for your pendant.

“Are you on your way? Shall I inform the Prince of your arrival?”

He chuckled, sounding clearer and closer than he had in weeks. “I am already here.”

You whipped around and he stood a few paces from you. You rose to your feet, taking in his eyes, soft and silver in the evening light, and his lips, cracked but smiling. He was unarmoured, but dressed in his kingly robes of black and silver. You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your damp robes and bare feet, flush rising in your cheeks.

Valar, what had come over you? You were a queen of your own right.

“I wish you would have told me of your impending arrival. I would have sent word to the princes to prepare the city to welcome you.”

He waved his hand. “There is no need for such things.”

“You are a king.”

“I did not come as a king.”

His gaze was sure and full of meaning. He stepped closer and the breeze carried his scent of cedar and pipeweed to you. He was so much larger up close, broad and imposing, but also so much more charming. You ran your eyes over his face, the lines on his forehead, the creases at the corners of his eyes, his slightly unruly beard. Yes, underneath it all, still a man.

“I did not come for them, the people of the city,” he muttered. “I came for you.”

“Aragorn…”

He reached for your hand, and when you did not move away, he wrapped his fingers around yours. “Do not tell me you do not feel this also. I have heard the change in how you say my name.”

Your heart swooped, but you shook your head. “I have my people to care for, a home to build.”

“As do I. We need not make any formal promises as of yet.” He squeezed your hand. “I only ask that we continue to speak as we have these last few weeks. I do not wish to go a day without hearing your voice.”

You nodded slowly and he brought your hand up to his lips. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, a smile breaking over his face. “How long do you have before you must return?”

“A day or two.”

You hummed, gripping his hand tighter, and faced the sun. The air was crisp and clear and the rays warmed your skin. There was laughter from the homes and music in the streets. The Sea-ward Tower’s bell rang out, loud and joyous. Aragorn glanced at you, smiling, and you grinned.

“Then let us enjoy this peace for a moment longer.”

---

Aragorn is so grim and broody sometimes I find it so hard to write him, to show passion and feeling in a way that's not out of character. I hope he didn't come off as too flat here.

#aragorn x reader #aragorn x you #aragorn x y/n #aragorn #lotr fanfic #lotr fic #lotr fanfiction #lotr

52 notes · View notes

studentinpursuitofclouds · 29 days

Note

I saw someone saying that the farmer is “special” (explaining why they always get to see the blue jellyfish every summer) and this idea came to my head.

May I request some headcanons on the adventurer’s POV where they realized the farmer is “special”, and kinda fall for them the moment they realized that?

Think of it as like the lantern scene between Eugene and Rapunzel in Tangled. Thanks in advance ^^

Honestly, it turned out more like one-shot than headcanon, but I hope you enjoy this format as well, dear anon. Thanks for the ask! 🫰💕

_________________________________________

Alesia:

It had been so long since Alesia had set foot in the Cindersap Forest. The last time she'd been here was probably ten years ago, when Marlon had taken her to train and gather mushrooms for brewing elixirs. It hadn't changed much since she'd moved to Castle Village, so it would be easy for her to remember all the paths here. Venturing deeper into the forest, she scrutinised the majestic poplars, looking for the secluded spots of mushroom colonies and simply enjoying nature. After all, she had missed the forest...

The archer's attention was drawn to some movement behind the dense blackberry bushes. Crouching down and trying not to make a sound, she curiously crept closer and closer until she finally reached the bushes. What Alesia saw made her very surprised. She had expected to see a fox or a grouse, but instead she saw the Farmer surrounded by wild deer.

A young male, three females, and four fawns - one big friendly family of noble creatures that surrounded the Farmer and would not let them pass. The adult deer licked Farmer's hands, jostling slightly in an attempt to take all attention for themselves, while the little fawns jumped and galloped around unrestrainedly. One even stole a tasty cave carrot from the Farmer's basket.

Alesia was so amused by this picture, how all these forest creatures demanded the Farmer's attention, affection, to be scratched behind the ears... And the way the Farmer glows with happiness, how they genuinely laugh and smile...

The crunch of a dry branch that the sniper stepped on immediately made all the deer turn their heads in her direction and prick up their ears. The male shook the signal and the whole herd galloped away, leaving the slightly confused Farmer alone.

Alesia emerged from the bushes and nodded a greeting to Farmer.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare them," she smiled slightly guiltily at Farmer.

"Actually, I should thank you. They follow me around forever when I'm picking berries in the forest," Farmer was still smiling just as broadly. "Or else they'd steal all my carrots from me!"

That event was something Alesia would remember for a long time after returning to the Galdoran Continent.

Lance:

The Lunaloo migration, or Moonlight Jellies as they are commonly known, is perhaps one of the most majestic phenomena Lance has ever seen. They are frequent visitors not only to the Stardew Valley, but also to Ginger Island, so Lance was able to enjoy the beautiful sight without leaving his post.

Once again, the pale light emanating from the magical jellyfish illuminated the entire shore. Lance sensed this energy and quickly teleported to the docks. However, he didn't know that there were more spectators here who had come to see the jellyfish.

Farmer had been on Ginger Island for a month now and their presence wasn't too surprising. But as far as the pink-haired adventurer could remember, all the people of the Valley come together on this day. So why is the Farmer here? And alone?

Lance wanted to call out to them, but stopped himself when he noticed something even more unusual: at least five green, Shining Lunaloo were swimming very close to Farmer when they put their hand into the sea water. Such jellyfish were very rare, and the fact that there were as many as five floating near Farmer...

"A wonderful sight, don't you think?" Lance thought to himself that he should learn not to scare people with his sudden appearance, for this was the second time he'd made them jump in surprise. "Sorry, my friend, didn't mean to disturb you."

"That's okay, don't worry," Farmer assured him, and then their attention turned back to the jellyfish. "Look how beautiful!" they pointed with their hand at the glowing water.

"Beautiful creatures, indeed," Lance agreed.

The two stood in silence for half a minute, only the sound of the sea waves and the distant noise of the local jungle fauna could be heard.

"You know," Farmer broke the silence, "I don't know why, but those jellyfish, the green one, always come near me. Strange, isn't it?"

"Lunaloo are creatures imbued with magic. So it's no wonder they sense magic in you, too." Or something special, Lance wanted to add, but decided not to distract the Farmer any further with conversation, examining the jellyfish closer and setting himself up for dreamy thoughts.

Isaac:

Fireflies... They were strange creatures, at least to Isaac, who had never seen fireflies. In fact, neither had he seen any of the other fauna of the forest. The dark-haired adventurer was so used to the quicksand and bloody fog of the Crimson Baldlans that he was beginning to wonder about fireflies. Even the gardens created by their witch Camilla in Castle Village can't compare to the beauty of nature. And yes, Isaac was a connoisseur of beauty too, even but only a couple of people knew it.

He was standing on the dock near Marlon's boat, enjoying the silence of the night and the scenery of Adventurer Summit. And then, it flew past him - a glowing bug that caught the Isaac's attention. The firefly flew higher and higher, and without knowing why, Isaac followed the insect up the stairs. What was his surprise when the firefly he was following headed straight for the Farmer, who was surrounded by dozens of other fireflies.

Like a large camp lantern, they stood motionless, trying not to scare away the bugs that had managed to land on their sleeves. Noticing Isaac, the Farmer chugged a smile.

"Hey, good night. Um. Yeah, I know I look a little silly for you, right?" Silence was the answer for Farmer, and they weren't surprised at that - Isaac was a man of few words. The most they could hear from the monster hunter was a snort because the Farmer had once again interrupted his rest and enjoyment of solitude with his noisy company.

But the scarred man had a completely different look - there was no rolling of the eyes, no irritation, no anger, no indifference. His gaze was so soft and so unnatural to Isaac that the Farmer was a little confused.

Isaac, after all, was a connoisseur of beauty, and now he was looking at something more beautiful. Maybe something more beautiful than even the fireflies.

#sve #stardew valley expanded #stardew valley #sdv #sve isaac #sve lance #sve alesia #sve headcanon #thanks for the ask!

41 notes · View notes

shesjustanothergeek · 10 months

Text

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Nineteen

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: I felt this story severely lacks dragon content. I want to make up for that. I hope you enjoy the little spice I've sprinkled in there toward the end. ;) Thank you so much for your support!!

Chapter Warnings: Implied cannibalism, dubcon.

Translation Guide: Zaldrītsos ipradagon: little dragon eater. Pālēs: turn. Kelītīs: halt. Lykirī: calm. Dohaerās: serve. (I tried my best to use proper grammar. Please don't call the High Valryian police.)

"Father, don't blame us for trying to live, for trying to love, for wanting more? Why did you dress our pleasure up as greed? While you're limiting our love, taking sunlight from the seed? Why did you give us hearts we don't understand, like an apple in our hand that you'll never let us have?" - AURORA, The Devil is Human.

It was midday before you decided to venture from your cotton sheets, letting you and the servants rest as much as possible before ringing the bell that signaled them to your room. Your ladies did not commence the morning ritual you had come to despise. They, too, must have also participated in a celebration last night and were nursing the same headache as you.

You stretched and yawned as you basked in the yellow afternoon sun that peeked through the emerald curtains, relaxing your achy muscles. The balcony appeared relatively comfortable in the daylight, and you decided to venture out, sitting on a cushioned bench. A cold breeze passed through King's Landing, picking up the withered plants across the ground and billowing your night dress around your bare ankles.

Winter was only weeks away. The once viridian foliage was now barren, revealing the wooden bones of each plant. The grass was a burnt orange from the lack of nutrients the soil provided, and no more earthy-smelling flowers were sprouting within the cracks of the flagstones. Death and decay surrounded you, bringing comfort despite how desolate everything appeared.

You hoped that snow would fall in the coming months. It would be the closest thing to home again.

You could reminisce fondly about your first wintertide at Dragonstone, the thick flurry of snowflakes blanketing the sandy beaches and rocks that covered the island, but never upon the castle itself. You remembered staring out of one of the many black stone towers and observing the steam rising from a carved basilisk as the slush melted. It was as if the haunting creature had the heat of a living being. It disturbed you immensely, plaguing you with endless nightmares alone in your apartments.

For the small folk, winter in King's Landing was always strife. Sickness and starvation were rampant throughout Flea Bottom that time of year, inflicting everyone no matter how plentiful the harvest was. It agonized you to no end each season you spent at Dragonstone, your stomach in knots if Madam or the other residents had enough to eat and if they managed to survive whatever illness spread.

The wintertime of your sixth year was the most gruesome. The growing season was met with drought, and when it came time to harvest, the merchant carts were bare. Ma tried to conceal the difficulty that year brought by distracting you with oral lessons in history and math, but no matter how much a parent attempted to protect their child, it was never enough.

You remembered the taste of the stale loaf of bread the whores shared throughout the week, the texture of jerky meat, and the ache it gave your jaw when chewing.

The atrocities you witnessed your fellow neighbors commit left you feeling hollow, memories of people burying the emaciated bodies of their kin only to dig them up. You were uncertain why they would do such a thing at the time. It was a sin against the Seven to desecrate the bodies of the deceased, and you had questioned Ma why they would do it. She hadn't given you an answer then, but you didn't need one. You already knew. Even in your youth, you could comprehend the atrocities of man.

Though you were a Targaryen, the hot blood of the dragon coursing through your veins, you preferred the colder weather.

Perhaps the reason was because of the Northern blood within you. It was rumored that your mother came from the area, but exactly where you were unconfident. The only other person who could attest to your mother's lineage besides herself was dead, swept from this mortal realm by the Hand and the Stranger, their head on a spike left to rot until forgotten. But you would remember. You would never forget nor forgive.

You thought back to the feast and how scores of meals were brought out and left over by the end. The scraps alone were enough to feed the entirety of the slums and still have more than enough to satiate all the guests. You hadn't felt remorseful at the time as you indulged yourself in a slice of ham, but in the light of day, the unawareness of your actions caused a profound contempt to grow. Gazing over the hundreds of cottages in various architectural states made you realize how disconnected you became from your roots.

Living a life of luxury made you into what you despised as a child—an out-of-touch, uppity, supercilious highborn.

You and the court members had more in common than you admitted, which was disgusting in and of itself. A sickening feeling of self-hatred permeated in your gut, causing you to retreat into the comfort of your space.

You needed to change. You needed to use your position of power to help the people of King's Landing.

You hadn't realized you were pacing until your ladies entered your room, a silver tray of tea and fruits in Dyana's hands. Fiora gave a charming grin in greeting as Jeyne went straight to your wardrobe, a storm of crimson skirts.

"Good morn Princess," the littlest maid said, placing your food on a table.

You smiled in admission, but it did not reach your eyes, putting your thumb between your teeth and pulling a piece of dead skin. Fiora and Dyana changed your sheets, replacing the breathable cotton with thicker wool as you broke your fast. The red cherries stained the tips of your fingers, mixing with the blood from your torn cuticles, the juice burning the open skin. You didn't wince at the pain, continuing to eat as your mind conjured up different ideas for the future.

From this moment on, you promised yourself never to stop. Never douse the flames of your drive to do what needs to be done. You would burn any lord, lady, prince, king, or queen who stood in your way.

***

The day continued without a hitch. Most of the guests from last night were still asleep or had already left for their homes while you were resting.

It was pleasant to walk the halls without having to create a polite conversation with people who would turn in the same breath and spread vicious rumors of your brother's parentage and spit vile insults that always referenced your birth. As twisted as it was, you hoped that one day you would hear something more interesting than the word "bastard." But it might be too much to ask the people at court to use their minds for something besides counting how many coins they reaped from their land.

Truthfully, you didn't have much to do. There were no Council meetings after events like these; everyone was still recovering from the night of debauchery, even the men who helped run the kingdom. It left you with nothing to do except plot and scheme and live within the torture of your mind.

You made your servants dress you in your favorite winter riding clothes to mark the season's coming. A magnificent statement piece that Rhaenyra commissioned for you as a Winter Solstice present.

The short, long-sleeved dress bathed your frame in flowing blood-red velvet trimmed with black braiding and lace with a high collar secured at the neckline to protect you from freezing temperatures. A dramatic steel pin of a three-headed dragon kept the heavy material together on your shoulders. A collection of practical and fashionable buttons were sewn onto the fabric to cover your torso, stopping at your hips to give you a range of motion and the allusion of a full gown to hide the trousers underneath.

You decided to take advantage of the rare break to see your dragon. You felt terrible for neglecting Cannibal the past week, leaving him to explore the skies of King's Landing in his solitude. He was accustomed to a life of isolation. Most of his fellow species were terrified of him and left the black dragon alone for a good reason.

In the beginning, Cannibal did not take well to being kept in the part of Dragonmont where the other creatures were, thrashing in the Keepers' hold like an unbroken stallion and breaking the chains that bound him multiple times.

Daemon had commanded you to beat submission into Cannibal more than once, giving you a long whip to have him obey your commands. You were hesitant and felt your heart shatter as the leather cracked his scales, but after much arguing, your father convinced you that it was the only way. Beasts like the Cannibal did not listen to any other language.

You had snuck out of the castle the evening it happened, leading the ferocious animal out of the caves and letting him fly to his home on the eastern side. There was a silent understanding between rider and dragon that night as you stared into his menacing green eyes.

Cannibal felt your sorrow for hurting him, realizing that you were just as afraid in your ways, lashing out whenever threatened and angry at the world for things you could not control. That night he lowered himself willingly to let you ride, taking you over the islands of Driftmark, Sharp Point, and Claw Isle. He did not speed through the midnight skies but soared high and low, letting his pointed wings slice the salty waters below and glide over the clouds until all you saw were stars and the waxing moon.

Since then, you and the Cannibal had a true bond of rider and dragon. Not one owning the other, but equals on land and the sky.

Unsurprisingly, you could not find your dragon within the Pit as you explored and asked the Keepers if he had appeared. While Cannibal had stopped briefly, attempting to enter for a snack but wisely deciding against it, no one had seen him.

You continued journeying undeterred, following your instincts as you traveled along the outer ring of walls in the Red Keep, enjoying the brisk air on your cheeks. You found a small exit that went out to private beach access. To those outside these red rock walls, it was only accessible by boat. You were optimistic he would be there, curled under one of the many rocky cliffs that reminded you both of home.

Sure enough, you saw the droppings that could only belong to a beast of his size. There were tracks on the shore, indents, and drag marks throughout the pale sand. Piles of bones leading up to where you spotted him, eyes shut and scales so dark that it looked like there was a hole in this realm. You noticed his nostrils twitch as you drew closer, indicating that he caught the scent of what you carried and was awake.

"Zaldrītsos ipradagon," you called in a sing-song voice, feigning to creep behind him as you scratched his tail with your fingers.

Cannibal pretended to nap, acting as if you couldn't see how his eyelids moved.

"Zaldrītsos ipradagon," you repeated, walking closer to his horned head. "I know you are sore that I have neglected you these past days, but I've brought something that I think you'll like..." you trailed off, exaggerating the last word.

Finally, he opened his eyes, the vivid yellow-green of his irises indicating that this massive void was an animal. You revealed the dragon egg that you stole from Dreamfyre's clutch.

"You know, I barely made it out alive," you taunted, raising the textured brown oval as Cannibal unhinged his jaws.

Before he could take a bite, you leaped away, hiding his present behind your back as he let out a warning growl. You rolled your eyes, the cruelness of your actions not lost on you.

"Oh, please. If you eat me, who else would risk their lives to steal another dragon's child for you?" you interrogated as if he could talk. "Exactly. No one. You would be all alone again, hoping someone like me would come along so you don't have to work for food again. I think you have become rather lazy over the years. Mayhaps I should stop bringing you food and make you fend for yourself, hmm?"

You felt the earth tremble beneath your feet as Cannibal stood, shaking the stray sand that landed on his body as he bared his elongated teeth.

Numerous people said that dragons couldn't comprehend the common tongue and that it was pointless to communicate with them, but it wasn't about what language you spoke, but how you felt as you said it. All animals could sense the emotions of other beings; you didn't have to bark to have a dog listen to you. You didn't have to squeal so that pigs knew when their slop was coming; they could sense it-- sense you.

You had grown a habit of testing the limits of Cannibal's basic instincts, wondering in the back of your mind if today might be the day he loses himself to his past and becomes the monster the small folk of Dragonstone believed him to be.

But the conviction you held within your bond would snuff that out quicker than he could fry a hatchling. It didn't make it any less frightening, though, as a roar blew loose the hair from your pined style, saliva splattering on your forehead.

"Fine! Here!" you relented, throwing the egg directly into his opening mouth as he chewed with a stomach-turning crunch.

He still wore the custom leather saddle between two large spikes on his lower neck. It was always a hassle for the Keepers to take off, and you needed more time to remove it when you first arrived at King's Landing. Cannibal became accustomed to it and hardly noticed the thirty-stone piece of equipment as he continued his hermit lifestyle.

"Let us fly today," you spoke softly, with no hint of your jesting tone from earlier. I shall see if I can wrangle you something live when we finish. Some pork would settle nicely in your gut, don't you think?"

You stood with a giddy smile as Cannibal lowered himself so you could clutch hold of the rope ladder along his side, adjusting until you were satisfied in your seat. You loved the aching stretch the saddle gave between your legs, your dragon pushing from the sand into the skies. That was also a relaxing feeling for him as he flapped his enormous midnight wings.

Cannibal took you over the entire townlet, soaring above the small folk as they halted and stared. Seeing as three claimed dragons were already housed within Rhaenys's hill, one being the largest in history, it shouldn't have been such a marvel to them. Though you took the admiration in stride, commanding your dragon with a "dracarys" as a burst of orange flames spewed from his massive jaws into the blue sky. You could hear the awe within their murmurs, smiling down at them as you shared your gift.

Your little dragon eater was more than happy to put on a show, nose-diving into a crowd of onlookers as they watched with horror and shrieks, sure that the beast was going to kill them before he abruptly swooped up, leaving them unharmed and knocking them over from the sheer force.

It was freeing to be on Dragonback. Especially when your dragon was more feared than even the war-hardened Vhagar, flown by the notoriously haughty One-Eyed Prince. To feel the wind whipping your hair, biting your cheeks, the sun warming you with its intense glow. You could feel the moisture from the clouds collecting on your thick black braids, creating tiny water droplets that glimmered like diamonds.

You flew over Blackwater Bay, the sea mist collecting on your eyelashes, the salty taste bursting on your tongue as you licked your lips. There were merchant ships larger than Balerion's skeleton residing at the many docks, the crew members looking like tiny grains of rice as they loaded shipments and hoisted sails.

As a child stuck to the sandstone streets of Flea Bottom, you never imagined yourself as someone who would one day be claiming the skies. The girl who once looked above at the stars as she sat on Lyra's lap was now one with them; what you wouldn't give for her to see you now.

Leaning your body and shouting the command, "pālēs!" Cannibal took you over the Blackwater Rush. Signs of life grew scarce and left only a few small villages along the river, their brick and mortar chimneys emitting the smell of woodsmoke as you soared over them. You were sure that those who saw the speeding dragon were met with fright. The almost demonic-looking blackness absorbed all light briefly before they were again met with the comforting rays.

The Red Keep came into view through the horizon as you circled back, the tallest structure in King's Landing sitting atop Aegon's Hill. Cannibal descended over the high pale redstone buildings, his wings barely a meter away from the tiled roof of the Tower of the Hand. With a smirk, you hoped that Otto was in there, crouching behind the stacks of parchment on his desk.

Suddenly, a roar sounded in the air. Your head swiveled around your body, searching for the noise, but you couldn't find it. You assumed the sun blinded your vision, causing your brown orbs to burn with water. You dug your palms into your sockets, rubbing the sting away as you felt Cannibal ascend.

The screech boomed again, followed by the sound of the wings of a dragon. You turned, prepared for the bright golden glow of the beast's scales. Aegon sat snuggly on his saddle, whipping the reigns so Sunfyre would go faster. You groaned in annoyance at the drunkard prince, shaking your head and commanding Cannibal to lose them before you decided to land.

"Put that wastrel of a man in his place, Cannibal," you snarked. "I promise to allow you as many Dragonkeepers that can fit into your mouth if you do." You swore he nodded in response, beating his ebony wings harder against the wind.

The frigid air pricked your eyes like needles, ripping out more strands of hair as they scratched against the sides of your face. You were glad you chose a warmer riding outfit, for the sun's heat was overpowered by the biting cold that dried your skin.

Cannibal showcased his skills, creating a distance between you and Aegon faster than his dragon could blink. You led them back to the original path you took. The fabric awnings that covered merchant stands ripped from where they were nailed as you flew by, carts carrying fruits and vegetables toppling over as your two dragons raced above. Turning sharply above the slums of houses you once frequented, you went to the port of Blackwater Bay, even more, populated than the inner mouth.

Ships of all sizes resided there, not just merchants, each coming and going, creating a mess of coordinated chaos only shipmasters could understand. The sails were various colors, Houses, and some without indicating what they were. You weaved through them, Cannibal closing his wings as his momentum carried you between the small gaps.

While you expertly dodged each boat, proudly smiling at the men below, you heard a deafening thud and crack, turning to see the pink and golden body of Sunfyre ramming into the mast of an unsuspecting crew.

"Kelītīs," you ordered Cannibal, positioning him as you saw Aegon and his dragon plummet into the brackish waters.

Panic seized your heart, telling your beast to land on the stern of the nearest ship, nearly capsizing it. Without a second thought, you dove into the icy Bay, the briny and freshwater searing your lungs. You swam to the ship Aegon crashed into, moving the floating pieces of stalwart oak out of your way as you said a silent prayer. Sunfyre's head rose above the water, flailing like a drowning cat until he pulled himself onto the sea wall.

"Aegon!" you called out, hoping he would answer you.

You paddled further into the wreckage, yelling out his name again. He still didn't answer, and you feared the worst. The repercussions of the eldest Prince's death were not in your mind; you only wanted to save a drowning man whose death would be your fault.

You inhaled quickly, forcing your eyes to stay open as you dove under the murky water. You could only see a few meters before you, the thick wool of your outfit slowing your movements and making your muscles work twice as hard. Struggling to resurface, you were met with the hull of a ship, swiftly dunking yourself again to avoid being crushed. You sucked in another breath, coughing the contaminated liquid out of your lungs as you looked at Cannibal. You screamed at him to block more ships from passing, and he pushed off, breathing a line of fire to prevent them.

The hair that had come out obscured your vision as you went under again. Your prayers were answered as you spotted an opaque figure, your fingers yanking the floating fabric of the Prince's clothes. You kicked and kicked your legs, straining against everything, pulling you under as you carried Aegon's lifeless body to the surface.

Locking your arms underneath his, you positioned him on your torso, leaning back as you swam to the port wall. The mussels and barnacles dug into your thighs, bending against the stone for support as you heaved Aegon above your head.

He spread on his rear, splayed like the Seven-Pointed Star, his ankles still hanging over the ledge. You realized he must have ingested water; using the last bit of strength, you flipped him over, smacking his back to get rid of it. Aegon sputtered a cough, water, and mucus spewing out of his mouth. You rested your arms on the top of the stone wall, catching your breath as your head turned low. The ground shuddering interrupted your rest, the water around you rippling with vibrations.

Two dragons stood face to face. One of aureate and one of coal, shimmering in the iridescent glare like a prized jewel, the other an ember of carbon and darkness. A low growl rumbled inside the anthracite one's throat; legs bent to pounce and smoke rising from its nose. The golden one put up its defenses, mimicking the stance of the other.

"Lykirī," you said breathlessly, trying to pull yourself over the levy, arms shaking. Cannibal's eyes flickered over you, unwilling to leave himself and you defenseless. "Dohaerās," you demanded firmly as your dragon obeyed, flying into the air before Sunfyre could attack.

"Princess!" a voice yelled. The clink of armor rang in your ears before two hands hoisted you onto dry land, your shins scraping against the ground.

They rolled you onto your rear, looking down with great concern. "Aegon," you panted, pointing toward the groaning man. "The Prince..." Unable to articulate, you only gestured, your tired stems quivering as you attempted to explain what happened without words.

The Cargyll twins directed their attention to the crowned Prince, helping him upright as they assured he was well. You didn't discover you were shivering until the resounding vibrations of your teeth chattering echoed in your skull. Your mind focused solely on rescuing Aegon as the sopping outfit stuck to your skin, the frigid autumn climate chilling you to the bone. A dark shadow of a man blocked what little warmth you acquired from the sunlight, squinting to decipher who he was and why he was only staring.

Ser Criston Cole stood beyond your quivering form, blankly peering down from his nose. The reflection of his silver armor seared your eyes as you turned away.

You couldn't speak. You couldn't think, concentrating on not being shocked by the freezing temperature. Abruptly a cloak was thrown, and you secured it around your form greedily, curling into a ball to conserve your heat as Ser Cole went over to the small group forming around Aegon.

You needed to get warm.

Why couldn't you get warm?

You hugged the wool blanket closer to your body, helpless to get what every nerve fiber was screaming at you to receive. Exhaustion washed over you, your eyelids gradually drooping.

Aegon is safe; you convinced yourself. There is nothing to worry about now.

You ultimately let the tiredness take control, shutting your eyes as you let out a shuddering breath, your finger loosening around the blanket.

"Princess," the faint title echoed beyond earshot. It sounded too far away, and you couldn't be bothered to reply.

"Princess," you heard softly again.

You couldn't understand why someone was calling for you. Everything was all right now. You could rest comfortably.

Your name was unexpectedly screamed, and you barely managed to pry your lids apart to see the terrified countenance of Ser Arryk Cargyll. You felt yourself lifted onto your shanks as they buckled, causing a surge of adrenaline to wake you partially as you griped the constituents that held you.

"She is soaking wet," you heard Arryk communicate before looking down at your blanched sallow fingers, holding them together with his palms. "Princess, please forgive me for what I plan to do. I must remove your clothes or risk you getting frostbite."

You still couldn't answer, a soft groan jostling in your nose as you felt your legs give out again, shutting your eyes. Intrusive digits began to unbutton your attire, your arms weakly pushing them away in protest. You didn't understand what was happening. One moment you were soaring high atop your dragon, and the next being forcefully undressed. Did Aegon have you again?

"No. Stop. Please," you begged, sluggishly swatting Ser Arryk.

"My Lady, I beseech you," he pleaded. "You will die otherwise."

You persisted, wiggling feebly in Arryk's hold as he stripped you down to your braes and breast binder. Tears of shame and powerlessness flowed down your cheeks, the salty trails warming the area briefly before chilling on the wind burnt skin.

The blanket wrapped around you again, the knight aiding you to his white horse. It didn't feel like you were there, seeing your figure in the surroundings from an outside perspective. Arryk tried putting you onto the saddle by himself, struggling as he couldn't lift the entirety of your limp body.

There were conversations that you could not hear as you leaned against his steely armor, your breathing becoming more difficult each second you stood. Another set of limbs came to assist, resting you on the front of the leather saddle, the pommel digging into your backside as you rested against the rider's chest.

The rhythmic swaying indicated that you had begun moving, hopefully to someplace where you could rest. Preferably scorching with a hearth the size of a solar and a fire blazing like the flames, Cannibal exhaled as you felt yourself fall into a deep slumber.

***

In your subconscious, you felt a tickle on your cheek, swatting it away as you drifted back to unconsciousness.

It happened again, this time a pull to your hair. You opened your heavy eyes, your vision blurry with sleep as you rubbed the afflicted area, turning over with an annoyed grunt. Then again, but now a pinch of your nose as you shot up, lunging into the person that so desperately wanted to disturb your rest.

"You," you spat, moving to get off the intruder.

"Me." Aegon smirked.

"Why are you here?" you interrogated, sliding off the bed to the roaring fire.

"I wanted to see how you were fairing. You gave us quite a fright," he admitted, gleaming smirk still on his pink lips.

Staring at him, you searched your mind, the memories returning in flashes. You, gliding over the streets of King's Landing. You pursued by a serpent of shimmering pink, orange, and gold. Aegon, falling into the dangerous murky waters of Blackwater Bay. He watched the recognition on your face, walking to your place by the hearth.

"And to extend my endless gratitude for saving my life." You scoffed, turning away from Aegon as he clasped his hands behind his back. "What is that now? Twice? I owe you," he admitted, sitting in a green armchair.

You released a huff, trying to distance yourself from Aegon as you went to the pot of tea in the center of the table. Pouring yourself a cup, you were pleased it was still tepid, with the taste of cinnamon and cloves warming your tongue. A bowl of stew rested next to it, the hazy memory of being huddled at the fireplace with thick fabric weighing on your icy bones as you sipped on the broth.

"You would have a debt if you thought twice about your actions," you cursed without thinking. "Do you ever think about how they affect other people? How they affect your wife, your mother... how they affect me?" Aegon's head lowered, his choppy blonde hair draping over his face as he fiddled with his fingers. "Look at me when I am speaking!" you yelled, storming over to where he sat.

"I am not going to lecture you as the Queen does, for you are well enough to know better. I want you to listen to me, hear my words." You kneeled before him, forcing Aegon's glassy eyes to meet your raging ones. "Your drinking and whoring wounds me deeply. You say that I am to put my trust within you, but then you lead two slaves into your bed, a place that we have shared. A place where I-" You choked on your words, a thick lump suddenly forming as you looked away.

You hadn't meant for this to become emotional. Your original intent was to have him whimpering at your feet and begging you to forgive him. The appeal of your sex was the key reason, but you were shaken. Watching in horror as Aegon fell into the Bay had scared you, truly and sincerely. It would've been partially on your hands, and his death, you realized, was not something you could stomach.

"We are allowed to have fun and forget our duty at times. I understand that our life is not what we would have chosen if given the choice, but we must take into account others. We do not have the freedom to forget people as others do with us. If we do then we become the ones who have hurt us, loosing our true selves."

Before you could continue, Aegon released a loud sob, slumping in the chair with his head in his palms. The sound was like an arrow to the heart, pricking your eyes with the intensity of it.

"I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. I have tried to be everything they wanted of me. To be the son my father dreamed of, to be a boy my mother could love," he cried, his shoulders shaking. "Why don't they love me? Why does no one love me? Am I truly such a monster?"

You inhaled a ragged breath, pursing your lips as you held back your tears. You could not bring yourself to give Aegon the assurance he needed. He was not a good man by any means. He participated in child fighting pits, gambled to the point of gluttony, and bedded women who were willing and those who were coerced. By certain standards, he was a monster, but not to you. You could see behind the heinous actions he committed was a boy who never learned what was right and wrong. A boy who was neglected and abused since he was born for reasons he could never control, tormented by the realization that he would never receive happiness.

Aegon was a drunkard, a slut, a craven, a wastrel, and a deadbeat, but he was no monster. You knew that to be true even when blinded by loathing, rage, and grief.

Your chin began to quiver, and your pulse began to race as you extended a hand, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. Aegon snapped his head up, his glimmery amethyst eyes glistening in an ocean of tears as you rested his palm against your cheek.

"You are broken, as am I, but we are no monsters." You placed a chaste kiss against his wrinkled skin, showing him your sincerity.

Aegon's lips trembled in his pout, so deeply moved by your words that he collapsed into you. You returned comfort, snaking your arms around him and smoothing his frizzy hair as he cried into the crook of your neck, wetting the fabric of your nightgown with his tears.

You stayed together like that until his sobs turned into hiccups, squeezing you tightly against him as he steadied his breathing. Even then, you did not let go, ridding him of his shoes and outer tunic as you led him to your bed. You were both drained, on a constant emotional overdrive that sucked the energy straight from your souls.

Settling onto the top sheet of your feather tick mattress, you held your arm to Aegon, signaling he could lay beside you. He crawled in like a child to a parent with a nightmare, seeking the comfort of their protective embrace. You let him lean his head on your chest, your back propped up against the collection of pillows at the headboard.

His index traced the curve of your knee, sending tingles up your leg and into your chest. It was intimate, an action one would make to their lover, but it didn't startle you. And the fact that it didn't give you that nauseating feeling in your stomach did not frighten you either. You allowed his digits to slide further up your leg, to your navel, sternum, and back down again. It caused gooseflesh to cover your arms, your nipples hardening with the rush.

Aegon's back settled on your plush thighs, your heart racing out of your chest as he stared with his cracked, shimmering amethyst eyes. He looked like a boy, younger than your brothers, and you knew exactly what broken boys like him needed.

Wordlessly you undid the front strings of your nightgown, letting gravity slide it down your prickled arms and revealing your breasts for him. A sudden heat rushed through your stomach and between your shanks as you saw his pupils dilate, nearly swallowing his irises. You inhaled deeply to settle yourself, endeavoring not to show your uncertainty about being in such a vulnerable situation.

"May I," Aegon paused, choking on his words and wetting his lips. "Can I touch them? Please?"

Your pulse stalled at the inadvertent confession of his nervousness, an almost maternal feeling coming over you as you brushed his curly locks behind his ear. "Yes, you may, dear prince," you mumbled.

The sensation of his fingers gently kneading one breast caused your toes to curl, sparks of satisfaction igniting in your core. You were not proud of letting him do this to you, surrendering one of your most sacred regions to a man known to defile them, but it felt so good. It simultaneously made you feel weak yet powerful, confusing your head and heart on right and wrong.

Aegon was silky in his touches, adding another hand to your neglected globe and leaning his countenance ever so close to them. You tried to hide your enjoyment in his efforts, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as the once saddened boy transformed into the mischievous Prince and brushed his finger over your nipple. You needn't look down to know there was a grin on his face, but you did. The water pooled in his sights was now gone, contentment in its place as he did the same thing to the other. You tipped your head back to hide from his observant gaze, knowing that if you continued watching, a moan would fall from your tongue and only feed his never ceasing ego.

His hold became harsher now, attempting to get a reaction out of you as you held firm. Aegon's index and thumb pinched your nipples, upping his antics. Still, you did not make a sound, but the bend of your knees and scrunching of your nose were winning enough for him, letting out a breathy chuckle as he continued to grope.

Aegon loved your tits. They fit perfectly into his hands as if the Gods made them with him in mind. He hated how you bound them. He believed that they should hang freely (preferably in his palms) without anything to step in the way of their full glory. He understood you did it to repress the sexuality of your body to the people of the court, wishing that by making yourself less palatable to the men and less of a competitor in looks to the women, you would be respected.

Aegon learned you would never admit such a thing to him, but he wasn't stupid. You made choices with careful calculation and a purpose; he just wished it didn't come in the form of repressing your body.

You were exquisite. The way your dark lashes batted against your cheeks, your midnight hair so long and thick that Aegon wished to blanket himself with it. People would constantly say that Targaryens are closer to Gods than men with white hair and purple eyes, but he didn't see it that way. His family rode dragons. That made them Gods, not the incestuous looks passed down from generation to generation in hopes of keeping their Valyrian blood pure.

You were just as gorgeous as the songs claimed Aegon the Conqueror's younger sister, Rhaenys was, but not in the supremacist ways his family judged. You appeared human, but a Goddess in your own right, not one that came with a name.

"I love your tits," Aegon complimented, lost in his mind as he rested his forehead on your sternum.

It felt natural to surrender to your desires, ignoring the racing thoughts that screamed at you to stop this. Your fingers rested on his meaty thigh, digging into the flesh as the Prince latched his mouth onto your nipple like a babe, swirling his tongue against the bud.

"Aegon!" you shouted in what was meant to protest but sounded more like a moan.

Your digits gripped his blonde hair, not pushing or pulling but giving you the faux action of control. You felt the vibrations of his breathy grunts through your ribcage, causing you to rub your legs together in desperation as he sucked brutally.

"Oh. Aegon, please," you whimpered, unsure if it was a plea for him to stop or keep going as you arched your back.

Wave after of pleasure rippled through your breasts and straight to your core, feeling uncomfortably wet as he moved his mouth to the other. A dull pain sensation rippled through your free tit as Aegon slapped it, soothing the skin with his touch before doing it again. You could feel his hips moving into the air, seeking the same ecstasy he was giving you.

Without thought, you found yourself unlacing his breeches, your trembling hands searching for what hid there. You pulled his throbbing cock free, seeing it for the first time and noticing the pearlescent liquid leaking from the rudy tip. He barely fit inside your hand, only your middle finger and thumb touching as you swiped the essence from his silt, dragging it down over a tiny ridge and veins.

Aegon's hips bucked at your touch, biting harshly against your abused nipple. You squeezed his shaft in response, throwing your head back momentarily as you began to move. You raised your hand in almost a spinning way, gently tightening around his cockhead before sliding down again, repeating it over and over.

"Gods. You're so fucking perfect. Your tits are so fucking perfect. They would feed babes well," Aegon mumbled against the plump skin of your breast, moving to the other one. You couldn't conceal the brief shock at his vulgar, coarse, and heady words, making you lose your breath as you sped up your ministrations.

The eldest Prince continued thrusting into your fist, aiding you as hot air from his nose dampened your chest. "So good. So fucking good, little one," he rambled into your flesh. "You're so good to me, my pretty girl-my good girl. You know what I need."

His words temporarily stole you from your trance, trying to conceal it with the tightening of your fist. Suddenly, the real reason you initiated this came to mind. It was just another step in securing the throne for your mother. Everything was falling into place. Perhaps it was just nonsense spouted during the heat of the moment, but it was still said. It was what Aegon felt, even if it was because your hand was pumping his manhood. A smirk rose to your lips in victory, leaning over to slide a glob of spittle onto him to help aid in his pleasure.

"I do, Aegon. I know what my sweet prince needs," you confessed into his hair, using your free arm to push him further into your chest. "My sweet Prince needs to come for his pretty girl. I want to feel your seed dripping on my flesh." You placed a chaste kiss on the crown of his head, yanking the ends of his damp hair so he could look into your eyes, deepening the act of your siphoning hand.

"Be a good boy, and let go for your little girl. I know you want to."

Aegon nodded aggressively, his lips parting as he panted. His thrusts became twitches until you felt him go entirely still, mouth agape, as he released the loudest, most lecherous groan you had ever heard, his thighs trembling. You felt the warm ropes of his spend on your still-moving fist, his cock spasming as it aided your pumps.

You soothed him through the aftershocks of his little death, kissing the salty tears that ran down his cheeks from the intensity of it. You sang praises in Aegon's ear as he clutched onto your body for dear life, attempting to ground himself. You were unsure of what else to say as a sense of triumph washed over you, the doubts you had from days prior only a distant memory.

This would be easier than you thought. You didn't have to let him do things to your body. If you kept his prick busy, you could leave Aegon completely satisfied and smitten without concern.

Instead of speaking and letting your thoughts escape you, you gave the buzzed Prince a peck on the nose, sliding out from under him to find a rag as you cleaned him and your hand. You opened the covers for Aegon after you were finished, seemingly a simple offer for him to stay, but you knew the truth. A smile curled on your lips as you watched him crawl under the sheets, his breathing still faster than normal from his climax. You felt like the cat who finally captured the canary.

You scooted closer to him, wedging your arm under Aegon's neck as you directed him to lie on your chest. You kept the strings of your gown untyed, allowing him free access whenever he wanted. Almost instinctively, he took it, cupping the curve of your breast in his hand as he settled. You felt him swipe self-soothing movements over your nipple for it to become hard again, blowing cool air to keep it that way.

"Will you sing to me?" Aegon suddenly asked, catching you unaware.

"I apologize, but I do not think my singing would be the last thing you want to hear before sleep," you lightly teased. "I am no siren."

You felt him smile against you, moving even closer into your body. "'Tis alright. Your mere presence is enough to lull me."

You lay there in silence, a war raging between your heart and your head. There wouldn't be any harm in singing. If it were what Aegon wanted, then you would do it. After all, it was just another stepping stone toward your goal.

"When you call to me asleep up the ragged cliffs, I scramble. A single thread hangs limply down, and I breathe, 'Not now, not now.' And I find you all unwoven, trying desperately to sew. I know the kindest thing is to leave you alone," you started, feeling Aegon's eyes widen against you.

"When your seams have come unknitted, and you cry out to the sky, I've run out of my words; my song just let me die, me die. The rockrose and the thistle will whistle as you moan. I could try to calm you down, but I know you won't."

The Prince's rubbing of your body gradually ceased, drifting off into a much-needed rest as you continued to sing the only melody that came to mind.

"All the pins inside your fretted head and your muttered whens and hows, all your mother's weaves and your father's threads. Let me rob them of you now. Because I'll darn you back together when you think that you're bereft, and you'll wail, you'll scream, but I'll never stop because it's all that I have left."

You felt your breathing hitch, swallowing a lump that had suddenly formed.

"I wake and hear you calling, and up those cliffs, I climb, and I find you with a thimble weeping, 'May I?' I ask, 'May I?' And you gently gift it to me because you've no clue how to sew, and I know the kindest thing. I pray to god it's the kindest thing... I know the kindest thing is to never leave you alone."

Masterlist of Series

Spotify Playlist YouTube Playlist

How about that exciting chapter? What do y'all think about that?! The song I included at the end is by The Amazing Devil titled The Rockrose and the Thistle and is sung mainly by Joey Batey, who you might know as the bard, aka Jaskier, in The Witcher Netflix series. Please take a listen to it if you have the time to support them!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter because I enjoyed writing it!

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @somemydayy, @ariana-dumbledore8, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @sunfyresrider, @sunny-boy-06, @heavenly1927, @prettylittlelady, @hjgdhghoe

126 notes · View notes