#inner dragon fic

[actuallykiwi]

Inner Dragon  Chapter 5: The Return of Dragons

A long hot bath and a night at the Sleeping Giant Inn later, Annie sat contentedly at a table in the corner of the tavern. The Riverwood tavern was quiet, as early in the morning most patrons had already headed home. She munched on her apple as Kaidan emerged from his room, looking much cleaner and well rested than the night before. “And how are you feeling this fine morning?” She asked as she wiped the apple juice from her mouth.

“Enjoying a warm tavern and a good ale, you’ll get no complaints from me,” he plopped down in the seat across from her and downed the mug she got for him. “Ah, so what about you? How’re you holding up?” 

She thought for a minute. “Feeling much better after a bath. Nervous, maybe? Empowered? I mean I’ve never delved into a ruin like that, let alone to get an artifact as important as this.” She patted the Dragonstone that was nestled safely in her bag. “All in all, I feel... adventurous.” She finished with a smirk. 

Kaidan grinned back at her. “Glad to hear it. Good to get you out of the books, metaphorically speaking.” She rolled her eyes, “Haha, I’m a nerd, I get it.” 

There was a few quiet moments where they enjoyed their breakfast before Kaidan broke the silence. “I am curious about you, though.” Annie looked at him inquisitively. “What did you wanna know?”

“Well, where are you from?” 

“Chorrol, down in Cyrodiil. Not too far from the Imperial City, which is where my brother frequents for the Legion. I was in our city’s chapter of the Mages Guild, so, y’know, hence the nerdiness.” She shrugged. Kaidan scratched his head, “Still unsure what ‘nerd’ means, but I’ll take your word for it. Cyrodiil, huh? You must miss your homeland. I hope the war hasn’t made Skyrim too... unwelcoming.” She laughed dryly. “Yeah, we did get one heck of a welcome party. But thanks. It’s warming up on me.” She smiled at him, and he returned it with a nod.

She cleared her throat. “Anyways, what else did you wanna know?” 

“I know we’re looking for your brother, got any other family out there?” 

“Yup, our parents! Brienna and Jace Sinclair. They’re both back home in Chorrol.” “Do you miss them? Ah, perhaps that’s a daft question.” 

“No no, you’re fine. And yes, I do. It’s only been a couple weeks since I saw them last, but with all that’s happened with Alec, the war, and the dragon in Skyrim...” she trailed off, and Kaidan placed his hand on her wrist. “It must be hard to be away from them right now. But I know they miss you, too. They must be proud of you both.” 

The amount of sincerity in his voice and his grip on her arm surprised her. From the look in his eyes boring into her, she knew he meant every word. It was almost enough to make her tear up, but she smiled warmly at him. “Thank you. It is hard being away from them, but that’s why it’s so important we find Alec. And we will.” “Aye, we will.” He nodded firmly and removed his hand. 

“Sooo, enough about me. Your turn! What brings you to Skyrim?” 

“I’ve spent a long time wandering; this is where my feet led me.” She waited for him to continue speaking. “And...?” He chuckled. “To own the truth, I’ve come back to Skyrim to learn something of my heritage, my bloodline. The few clues I have pointed me here, but it takes time to decode. So, I’m paying my way by collecting bounties.” 

“You have no family to ask?” “No... not anymore. Perhaps I do have blood kin out there, but I’ve never known them.” Annie couldn’t imagine not having a family. Being without hers right now was more painful than she let on, but she was surviving. She studied him a bit more. His skin was a soft honey tan, almost golden like an elf, and somewhat leathery. And his eyes... she had never seen them on men or mer. Sharp, pensive, and a deep crimson-like hazel. The red tattoo that coated the right side of his face was also not familiar to her. “You don’t even know your race? You definitely don’t look like a Nord.”

“No. I was raised as one, by one. But I have no Voice of the Emperor or Dragonskin magic... I don’t even know the race of my mother. All I have is a hunch, but I need proof.” She perked up. “Well, I do like a good mystery! Maybe I could help?” He blinked at her. “You’d do that?” She nodded. 

“I suppose I could use the help. The best clue I have is my sword, but I’m certain we can find out more in our travels.” “You got it. I’ll keep an eye out! And speaking of travels, time to get moving?” 

“Aye. Let’s return that Claw first.” She agreed, and the pair rounded up their belongings and headed out. 

***************************************

The shopkeep was very grateful to have his shiny golden trinket back, and his sister was a little... too grateful. Kaidan and Annie got back on the road before things got too uncomfortable. 

“You’d think with two guys pawning after her already, she wouldn’t flirt with a total stranger, right? She was pretty, though.” Annie thought aloud as they crossed the bridge and started their journey back to Whiterun. “Hey, you weren’t the one getting groped. They can have her,” Kaidan shuddered. “Agreed. She was really forward.” Annie thought about how Carlotta came right out and offered to “pay him back in full” and ran a hand down his arm. “Ohhoho, Miss Annie, do I detect a hint of jealousy?” He grinned slyly and nudged her. “Hah! Not a chance! I’m just using you for your sword.” She teased.

“My sword, eh? That could mean a lot of things...” She turned beet red and punched his arm. “No no that’s not what I meant!! Kaidan!!” He laughed as they trekked on. 

The rest of the trip to Whiterun, they talked more about Annie’s family and shared childhood stories. Eventually, the Plains opened up and they arrived at the city gates around noon. Fog blanketed the land, and the sky cast long grey shadows. By the time they reached Dragonsreach, the fog had mostly cleared, but the sky was still overcast. Annie always loved rain and storms, but this felt... symbolic, somehow. Almost foreshadowing. 

She didn’t dwell on it for too long as they entered the keep and made their way towards the court wizard’s chamber. As they rounded the corner, Annie heard voices. She put a hand up to Kaidan as they stood against the wall. There was a voice she didn’t recognize speaking to Farengar. 

“You see? The terminology is clearly First Era or even earlier. I'm convinced this is a copy of a much older text. Perhaps dating to just after the Dragon War. If so, I could use this to cross-reference the names with other later texts." Farengar rambled. 

"Good. I'm glad you're making progress. My employers are anxious to have some tangible answers." The other voice was female. She sounded impatient.  

"Oh, have no fear. The Jarl himself has finally taken an interest, so I'm now able to devote most of my time to this research." He rifled around some papers.  "Time is running, Farengar, don't forget. This isn't some theoretical question. Dragons have come back." The voice was not quiet. Annie and Kaidan shared a look.  "Yes, yes. Don't worry. Although the chance to see a living dragon up close would be tremendously valuable... Now, let me show you something else I found... very intriguing... I think your employers may be interested as well..."

They shared one last nod before Annie gently knocked on the wall and they peeped around the corner. The source of the voice glared up at them from beside Farengar. A woman in leather armor pinned Annie with her glare, her pale blue eyes narrowed in suspicion and shadowed by a hood. She nudged Farengar without moving her gaze. “You have a visitor.” 

 It took the wizard a moment to drag himself out of his notes.  "Hmm? Ah, yes, the Jarl's protege! Back from Bleak Falls Barrow? You didn't die, it seems.” Annie glimpsed down at herself. “Uh, yeah, it seems not...? Here you go.” She shook her head and handed him the artifact. “Ah! The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow! Seems you are a cut above the usual brutes the Jarl sends my way. My... associate here will be pleased to see your handiwork. She discovered its location by means she has so far declined to share with me.”  He looked pointedly at the hooded woman, "So your information was correct after all. And we have our friend here to thank for recovering it for us." She now eyed Annie and Kaidan with surprise. 

"You went into Bleak Falls Barrow and got that? Nice work.” With a nod of approval, she turned back to Farengar. “Just send me a copy when you've deciphered it." They exchanged a few more words and the hooded woman began to leave. As she exited the room, she almost ran right into Irileth, who was sprinting into the room. The woman evaded her and scurried out into the hall. Irileth was panting and looked agitated. 

"Farengar! Farengar, you need to come at once. A dragon's been sighted nearby!” She glanced at Annie. “You should come, too." Annie blinked at her and was about to reply, but Farengar quite literally jumped from his hoard of papers and approached Irileth.  "A dragon! How exciting! Where was it seen? What was it doing?" The elf shook her head.  "I'd take this a bit more seriously if I were you. If a dragon decides to attack Whiterun, I don't know if we can stop it. Let's go." She gestured for all of them to follow her, which Farengar excitedly obliged.

Annie looked back at Kaidan. “Fighting a dragon? I’ve been face-to-face with one before but there’s no way I can-” “Let’s just see what’s going on. We’ll go from there.” He reassured her. She nodded, and they followed Irileth up a flight of stairs. 

Jarl Balgruuf was standing in what seemed to be a small war room behind the throne room. He was speaking to a guard that was covered in scorch marks, and seemed worse for the wear.  "So, Irileth tells me you came from the western watchtower?" The guard nodded. “Yes, my lord.” Irileth approached them. “Tell him what you told me, about the dragon.” The guard seemed nervous, scared.  "Uh... that's right. We saw it coming from the south. It was fast... faster than anything I've ever seen."

"What did it do? Is it attacking the watchtower?" Balgruuf seemed to be in deep thought.  "No, my lord. It was just circling overhead when I left. I never ran so fast in my life... I thought it would come after me for sure." The Jarl patted his shoulder.  "Good work, son. We'll take it from here. Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You've earned it.” The guard nodded and limped back down the stairs. “Irileth, you'd better gather some guardsmen and get down there." Irileth stood at attention. “I’ve already ordered my men to muster near the main gate.” 

“Good. Don’t fail me.” Irileth bowed and stepped to the side as Balgruuf’s attention diverted to Annie, who was watching timidly but stood straighter as he approached. He seemed almost remorseful for what he was about to ask.  "There's no time to stand on ceremony, my friend. I need your help again. I want you to go with Irileth and help her fight this dragon.” Annie eyes went wide. “But, Jarl, I’ve never-” “You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here. But I haven't forgotten the service you did for me in retrieving the Dragonstone for Farengar. As a token of my esteem, I instructed Avenicci that you are now permitted to purchase property in the city. And please accept this gift from my personal armory." 

The Jarl picked up a scabbard from the table and handed it to Annie. She reluctantly took it from him and unsheathed the sword a few inches. The blade of an iron sword gleamed up at her, with a slight fiery glow. “It’s enchanted.” Kaidan noted from over her shoulder with a nod of approval. She looked back up at the Jarl. “Sir, just because I’ve seen a dragon before doesn’t mean I can fight one! In fact, that same dragon almost took my life!” She thought back to the moment the dragon Shouted at her, sending her and several others flying. Her head still sometimes ached from the impact of hitting the wall. 

 Balgruuf placed his hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s scary, but you will not be alone in this fight. From the moment I met you, I knew something was different in you. I still haven’t pinpointed what, but I know that you can do this. Trust your instinct. Trust your friends.” With this, he glimpsed at Kaidan and backed away. Kaidan gripped her shoulder as well and gave her a reassuring look. She glimpsed back at the sword, hooked it onto her belt, and took a shaky breath. “Okay.” 

Annie and Kaidan made their way out as Farengar approached the Jarl.  "I should come along. I would very much like to see this dragon." "No. I can't afford to risk both of you. I need you here working on ways to defend the city against these dragons." Farengar seemed disappointed, but did not argue. "As you command." Balgruuf called out to his housecarl. "One last thing, Irileth. This isn’t a death or glory mission. I need to know what we’re dealing with.” She bowed again. “Don’t worry, my lord. I am the very soul of caution.” With that, she gestured to Annie and Kaidan, and the three of them ran out of the hall. 

By the front gates, Irileth was giving an inspiring speech to her men, who all seemed just as nervous as Annie. Kaidan watched her as she had a death grip on the hilt of her new sword, trying her best to listen to the speech. “You okay?” He asked gently. “Kaidan, I’m not a warrior. I’m not even a soldier! I’m just a mage that loves studying, learning- I-I mean I know destruction spells, and I can hold my own in a fight, but a dragon?? Back in Helgen, I’ve never been so scared in my life, and now I’m being asked to go through that again...” She was biting her nails, but got a nasty shock when she realized her hands were tingling with electricity. “Listen, Annie.” He stood in front of her so she had to look up at him. 

“Remember what the Jarl said: You’re not alone in this. Trust me. I’ll be there the whole time. I swore to protect you to repay my debt to you, and I’m standing by that promise. You can do this.” Annie stopped trembling and met his eyes. He wasn’t grinning, wasn’t frowning. His eyes were filled with fierce determination. He truly believed in her. 

“...The glory of killing it is ours, if you're with me! Now what do you say? Shall we go kill us a dragon?" Irileth finished off her speech with rallying cries from the soldiers. Kaidan held up a hand to Annie. She glimpsed down to make sure her anxiety-driven Sparks had worn off, and when she knew they had, she gripped his hand. He firmly squeezed it, and with a heartfelt, possibly excited grin, he took off running with the group, Annie close behind him. 

*******************************************

It was a short run to the Western Watchtower. But what lie in its place was not a tower, but still-smoldering ruins. The tower was half crumbled to the ground, nowhere near its original height. A walkway and barricades were torn down and burning with still-roaring flames. Worst of all, charred corpses lie scattered amid the ruins. The dragon had definitely left its mark. 

Irileth led the group up to a short hill across from the carnage. “No signs of any dragon right now, but it sure looks like he's been here. I know it looks bad, but we've got to figure out what happened. And if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere. Spread out and look for survivors. We need to know what we're dealing with." She and the soldiers brandished their weapons and charged onto the scene. Annie and Kaidan made their way toward the tower and quickly found something. 

A guard, scorched like the other was, crouched by the doorway inside, trembling. His eyes grew wide when he saw them enter. He shakily stood and shooed them out.  "No! Get back! It's still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!" Irileth, who was nearby, came to investigate.  "Guardsman! What happened here? Where's this dragon? Quickly now!"

He shook his head. “I don’t know!” As they approached the bottom of the tower, he froze. His head turned slowly south and he fell to his knees. “Kynareth save us, here he comes again...” 

Everyone turned toward where he was facing, and listened. Sure enough, Annie heard it. It was in the distance, but she knew the sound all too well. A roar. A dragon’s roar. The clouds were still thick and blocking the sky, but they could faintly see a shadow move from the mountain top and disappear overhead. “Here he comes! Find cover and make every arrow count!” Irileth found a spot by the crumbled walkway and readied her weapon. Kaidan pulled Annie over behind the tower where a small outcropping covered them. 

They all waited. Listened as one last roar, much closer this time, echoed just overhead. It was quiet. Still, as everyone held their breath and watched the skies. 

Then the dragon dropped from the clouds and snatched up a guard from the walkway in his mouth. With a sickening crunch, the dragon flew back above and flung the guard’s body back to the ground. Annie was going to be sick. 

A war cry rose from the brave troop as they unleashed all they had upon it. Arrows and spells sprang up from all directions. Kaidan unsheathed his own bow and landed a few himself. Annie stayed behind him as he crept around the tower and followed the beast wherever it went. The dragon made a few laps around the premises, then landed with an earth-shaking crash. It took a breath, “Everyone get down!!” and Shouted. 

Flames roared out across the ruins as everyone ducked for cover, some not so lucky were still out in the open. Kaidan yelled and covered Annie behind a broken wall. Even through him, she could feel the immense heat that surrounded them. Once the fire stopped, everyone brave enough emerged from their hiding and began to strike it again. Annie found herself hyperventilating on the ground as Kaidan stood up from shielding her. “Stay here!” He shouted, and went back to attacking. 

She was doing everything she could to calm down. Her pulse was racing, her vision was blurry, she couldn’t breathe. She watched from behind the wall as men began approaching the dragon and attacking head-on, but the dragon’s strong jaws had them quickly, and they were gone. She closed her eyes and willed herself to calm down again. 

Suddenly, everything went quiet, and time seemed to slow. The sounds of the battle were muffled. The fire that raged from the beast roared around her, a distant rage. Her gaze found Kaidan, who was rising from his cover and launching another assault. Kaidan, a stranger fast becoming a friend, who believed in her. Her brother Alec, somewhere out there, probably looking for her too, believed in her. 

She was terrified. The sparks igniting her whole body at this point proved it so. But now was the time to use that fear, and prove them right. 

Something burned within her. Something shifted within her, and she found herself standing up from the rubble. 

The dragon paused, very briefly, and made eye contact. Its face registered something which she would later realize was recognition. The guards were doing a number on it, but it wasn’t enough. 

With her body still running on pure adrenaline, and whatever fire was now raging inside of her, she mustered all of her magicka into her hands, and struck out towards it. 

An amount of electricity that could instantly kill a man was pouring from her outstretched arms. She was screaming, but you couldn’t hear it over the shock. 

It wasn’t killing it, but it certainly caught the dragon’s attention. With it distracted for just long enough, the other men moved in and hit it once again with everything they had. It was Irileth that dealt the final blow, with a sword through its head by way of its eye. Its other eye met Annie’s again, this time with fear. And then she heard something she never expected. She heard it speak, to her. 

“Dovahkiin!? No!!!” 

Irileth removed her sword, and the beast collapsed, lying still. Annie fell to her hands and knees, all of her magic drained from her. The handful of surviving men were already rejoicing. Irileth approached the body. “Now let’s see if this overgrown lizard is really dead.” The guards approached with her, but froze in their tracks. 

The body was igniting. Flames appeared from inside it and engulfed it. “Everyone, get back!” Someone yelled, and they all ducked for cover. All except Annie, who was still too weak to stand. Kaidan rushed over to her and tried to help her up. “Annie!” 

She was barely standing when the body was fully ignited, and then a strong wind moved through. Something was coming out of the dragon, and into her. The shock of the absorption knocked her out of Kaidan’s grasp, but she was still barely standing. This power flowing into her was blindingly burning, but felt... natural. It wasn’t forcing its way in, although the force was strong. The dragon’s body dissolved into nothing but bones, as if all its life force was now moving into Annie. 

After a moment, it finished, and all the wind and fire faded away. Annie dropped to one knee and began panting. “By the gods... what just happened to you?” Kaidan knelt next to her and placed a hand on her back, but quickly snatched it back. She felt like she was on fire. 

“I don’t.. I don’t know...” All the others were gathering around her, silent with awe. One guard stepped up, his mouth agape. “I can’t believe it... you’re Dragonborn!” Annie used Kaidan’s shoulder as a crutch to help herself stand. She was cooling off and touching the metal of his armor, which he was quietly grateful for. “I’m a what?”

“Dragonborn. In the very oldest tales, back when there still were dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power. That's what you did, isn't it? Absorbed that dragon's power?" The guard explained. Annie felt her chest. She was warm, but not burning anymore. That roar and power that she felt earlier was louder now. Whatever just happened, it definitely awoke something within her. “I mean... it certainly felt like it...” 

“There's only one way to find out. Try to Shout... According to the old legends, only the Dragonborn can Shout without training, the way the dragons do." The other guards began debating the legend. Annie looked down at her hands. They were still hers, but they felt... different, somehow. Stronger. She felt stronger. Kaidan was watching her intently. “How do you feel?” She looked up at him. “Honestly? A little freaked out.” He chuckled. “But... I feel stronger, somehow. And really, really warm. And my chest kind of, burns? Not like heartburn, but like... something is... alive. Am I making sense?” Kaidan chuckled again and shook his head, “Not really, but after what just happened, who knows?”

The men had dragged Irileth into the debate. They finished arguing, and looked back at Annie. "If you really are Dragonborn, like the old tales, you ought to be able to Shout. Can you? Have you tried?" She looked at Kaidan. He shrugged. She sighed and walked a distance away, facing away from the handful of survivors. 

She definitely absorbed something from the dragon. The burning in her chest was working its way up to her throat while she thought. Okay, Shouting. I can do that? Think, Annie. If dragons can Shout, that means it’s in their language, right? What do you know about their language? Nothing really. Except... one Word... from the Barrows... The burn sat dead center of her throat. She envisioned the physical form of the Word she saw, how it engulfed her vision, how she heard and felt it through her entire body. She gripped her fists, and took a deep breath and, 

“FUS!”

The volume of her Voice shocked her. She couldn’t help but cover her mouth out of surprise. She Shouted. “I did it...” She whispered. 

The others gasped and murmured. The same guard from before approached her.  "That was Shouting, what you just did! Must be. You really are Dragonborn, then..." Annie turned to face Kaidan, who was right behind her, his shocked face matching hers. “Well, I’ll be damned... I’m traveling with a Dragonborn...” She couldn’t help but nervously chuckle. 

"That was the hairiest fight I've ever been in, and I've been in more than a few. I don't know about this Dragonborn business, but I'm sure glad you're with us. Jarl Balgruuf will want to know what happened here. I'm taking command here for the moment. You head back to Whiterun and let the Jarl know what happened." Irileth seem unperturbed by the discovery, but impressed nonetheless. Kaidan nodded and gently guided Annie back to the road and towards Whiterun.

“This... changes everything, doesn’t it?” She asked aloud. “It only changes what you want it to. You’re still Annie, just, a little louder now.” She chuckled. “I never knew I could get that loud.” He shook his head. “Quick way to win an argument, though.” 

Annie was beginning to feel a little weak by the time they reached the city stables. It felt like the heat was wearing off, and she was back to feeling the drain of her magicka. She stumbled a bit, and Kaidan caught her arm over his shoulders. “I’ve got you.” 

They had just made it past the first gate when a loud clap of thunder shook the earth, sending them tumbling to the ground. But through the rumble, Annie heard the unmistakable Shout, 

“DO-VAH-KIIN!” 

Her head was ringing. She couldn’t hear anything, even Kaidan who was shouting something in her ear. The world was spinning and everything was fading away. Somewhere, she heard Kaidan call her name, and then all went black. 

Previous

#skyrim #writing #fanfiction #inner dragon fic #annie sinclair #kaidan skyrim #kaidan skryim mod

[justaz]

arthur (prince of camelot) still has to study under a tutor bc yknow uther wants him to be very intelligent before becoming king or something bc its super important idk idc anyways merlin is doing chores in his chambers while arthur is squinting at a book and merlin eventually caves and asks him what he’s reading and arthur gruffly explains that its a collection of stories from greece that make absolutely no sense so merlin asks him to read them outloud to him. arthur of course teases him and calls him an idiot and asks how he could possibly help but does as he’s asked and reads the stories to merlin as he does his chores. merlin (being crushed under the weight of destiny and tormented by the prophecies that kilgharrah spews) understands the stories almost immediately and gets all excited and starts rambling about them with arthur. arthur is glad to have someone who understands so he can give something that reflects a hint of understanding to his tutor who accepts it and moves onto the next unit of education.

the thing is, arthur finds more stories in camelot’s library and brings them up to his room to read them aloud to merlin under the guise of completing his studies but really he just wants to watch as merlin’s eyes gleam when he understands whats happening and listen to him ramble on and on about them bc he’s gay. the stories stick with merlin though and he realizes that they’re cautionary tales, that the heroes who were told too much of their future doomed themself to fulfill them - that them fighting the prophecies led to their completion. merlin takes it to heart and gives a big “fuck you” to kilgharrah before forging his own fate and helping morgana with her magic and handing out an olive branch to mordred and now everyone can live happily and peacefully in an albion teeming with magic.

#merlin and arthur are of course at each others side in the end #merlin is curled up with arthur in their bed and says a silent thank you to his king for saving him #arthur returns the sentiment wholeheartedly #bbc merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merthur #fic idea #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanon #hc #head canon #merthur prompt #i have my own hc of fate vs destiny in bbc merlin and i like to incorporate that into everything i write #but then i realize that not everyone thinks that way lmao #i like to think that destiny is unavoidable. merlin and arthur are destined to form albion and lead it together #i think fate is like a fragile version of destiny #i think most people are tied to fate and will follow what they are fated to do unless those who arent tied down by fate change course #like i hc that seers are able to see the potential future of what is to happen should they not interfere #and the goddess leaves it up to them to choose. so like seers arent tied down by fate and can change the course of history #since merlin is literally magic incarnate i also think he isnt tied down by fate and can act to change things #kilgharrah told merlin the prophecy that would result in the dragon getting free and ending the pendragon line #and since merlin never got close w like any druids or magic users. no one told him the inner workings of fate vs destiny #so he listened to the dragons warnings dooming him to fulfill the prophecy that brought about one of the worst possible futures #bc the dragon was salty about his whole species being eradicated by uther and vowed to destroy the pendragon line #omg im ranting okay post over thank you and good night

[possamble]

re: falin having a choice when it comes to having a longer lifespan

makes me think about her choice to save and even feed the dragons soul in the last chapter. i like to think that its this choice she makes that gives her draconic traits? like if she hadnt saved it then she comes back pretty much normal. falin seems to be proud of how different she looks now if how she dresses post-canon is anything to go by.

she also mentions that maybe its the dragon that wants her to travel to different places but i think shes always had the heart of an adventurer. when laios mentions being able to travel she was so so excited. and as a little kid she went out and discovered that dungeon all by herself.

like!! a lot of people write her being fiercely loyal and protective, as well as giving gifts (especially to marcille) as something the dragon makes her do. but from all the memories we see of her, shes always been like that (protecting her brother as kids, attacking the kelpie when laios rides it, saving her brother from getting beat up, giving marcille berries and nuts etc).

if it came down to having a longer lifespan, i dont think its out of the question if falin could just Decide for herself whether or not she wanted that. i think she’d have a good enough relationship with her inner dragon to do so, considering how much she acted like a dragon beforehand anyway

the. the fucking idea of her having had the option to completely stamp out the extra dragon soul inside herself by leaving it behind. and literally choosing not to. not even consciously but because she as a person reflexively wanted to take care of a little creature even knowing that it used to be a monster that hurt her and her loved ones. this time she gets to choose she gets to CHOOSE to live and how to live and it's always with kindness oh god oh fuck

#asks #falin touden #breaking: local idiot writes an entire fic about the dragon giving falin the bravery to be more like herself #and uses the 'little dragon' as her fucking INNER CHILD metaphor #but never connects the dots of 'she acted like a dragon beforehand anyway' like AAAAAAA #she was always a little dragon a little hatchling who never got to grow up oh fuck #oohhhh in some fucked up ways the dragon and her were kindred spirits #oh god oh fuck

[valdeswan]

Cale and his family are so fucking touch starved that it is not even funny. Give them all the platonic physical love they need.

Hugs anytime, because why fucking not? Let the kids run in their room and give Cale hugs at random times in the day. Make him try to awkwardly hug Rosalyn to congratulate her for her achievements. Allow Mary to receive all the hugs from the wolves when she lets them ride the skeleton dragon.

Good greeting cheek kisses and goodbye kisses: This is a tradition that started with the tiger, but everyone adopts it when they see each other after a long time or if someone is going to be far away from the Rock Village.

Forehead kisses, mostly from Lord Sheritt, who shows affection to the kids, but also to Cale because he has this cute and weak appearance.

Nap time with all the wolf kids because they are just big dogs and everyone has a weak spot for them and their puppy eyes. In the nap time, Beacrox puts soft blankets and pillows in the grass and sits with the kids while reading; he says it´s because someone needs to take care of them, but everyone knows it's a lie.

Rosalyn making hairstyles and taking care of Cale's hair. Loving how soft and easy to brush it's.

Cuddling with the tigers—that is just all of them sleeping under the sun in the garden. Cale not very secretly love this moment of the day because is literally big cats with fluffy and soft fur to lie with.

Basically, he and his family fixing and taking care of all the touch-starved lives they had. Alberu, Choi Han, Rosalyn, I bet nobody touched them nicely too much I'm their fucking lives.

#cale really saw the sadest people and just said #you are my friend now #we love him for that #hug the babys #the babys: 1000 ancient dragon #healing the inner child of a group of people between 4 and 1000 year old #a big family full of broken people #in one moment i read almost every fic of tcf on AO3 and the soft gestures were not much a thing #cale henituse #tcf #lcf #trash of the count's family #platonic relationships #non native english speaker #im here just to give ideas because im not confident enough to publish anything more #please make it happen

[bbygirl-aemond]

Aemond's baths either look like this:

Or this:

There is no in between.

#this is his secret to having such silky hair btw #can't convince me the inner targ doesn't delight at the idea of bathing in blood #is it animal blood? human? you decide #no one knows #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd #house of the dragon #fic: stormbreak #fic #stormbreak

[greypetrel]

Ooh "a tentative, exploratory kiss between friends" because I'm curious about the first one between Aisling and Cullen 👀 but if there's someone it fits better, that's okay too!

You have wonderful timing, I was about to write this for the next fic chapter. 💜🤣 (Spoiler? If anyone here follows the Wordy Monster.)

The chapter have more build up and Science Bros making things explode (themselves included). You can read it here!

Following the original cutscene because I honestly find it cute, adding here and there (and modifying a line because it doesn’t make sense for them anymore and I didn’t really like in the original, as usual it’s a “It could have been phrased better)

Tis the prompt list

"a tentative, exploratory kiss between friends"

That really won’t do.

The morning’s War Council has been a disaster. Josie was talking about the preparations and uniforms for the Ball and how everything was ready for the fittings, and silks and whatever and guests- And Aisling didn’t listen to one word. She couldn’t, because Cullen was frowning at a pile of reports, brows furrowed in concentration and eyes intent, focused on the task ahead. He looked good, his cheeks seemed fuller and he wasn’t that pale. Maybe the last brew she gave him worked better, she should ask him. Go back in professional mode, yes, that she could do. As long as he was healthy and she could keep him so, maybe make him smile and laugh once in a while, it was ok if he thought she dislikes him. It didn’t make him less kind towards her, less of a friend. And yet, she was longing for more, the very word “friend” is too little, getting stretched more and more. She was longing to just cup his face and yell at him that she didn’t care, she never cared if not in a foolish moment when she thought he was scared of her, and she didn’t want him to be afraid or uncomfortable, not anymore and not with her. She was too concentrated on noticing how his hair almost looked silver when hit in full sunlight. She was wondering how that scruffle would feel under her hands, rubbing on her cheeks and under her lips. And-

- and, she was brought down back to earth from her reverie by a smirking Leliana who made a too witty, too knowing joke about her daydreaming. Aisling grumbled that she was just tired, she slept little the last night, and Leliana just -smirking horribly- suggested her to count lions before sleeping. Josie snorted a laugh, and Cullen just sighed, begging them all to please go back to work, too concentrated, luckily, on his reading to mind that Aisling just turned the exact shade of red of the velvet Josephine was favouring for their uniforms.

This really won’t do, not at all, she couldn’t go on like this. She refuses to start blabbering.

So, she decided to do what the grown-up, responsible First of Keeper Deshanna Isthimatorial Lavellan would do. Open up and confess, come clean and start again. Whine a little over it, cry, get drunk with Dorian, Sera and Bull and get on with her life. She and Cassandra were friends, now, it hasn’t been easy, but they made it.

The plan is simple: go to his office, ask him for five minutes alone. Tell him that she has this stupid crush on him and please, ignore any weird behaviour from her, and please, let’s stay friend and keep things just as they were before. Assure him that she never disliked him on principle, she would never have approached him. Now that she knows she just admires him greatly for realising his situation and acting towards a real change, it wasn’t easy. And then, once everything was out and she had nothing else to hide and overthink about, she would have just got on with her life, less uneasy from all those secrets.

On paper, it looks easy.

As she stands there, staring at his door with a raised hand, stalling before knocking, it’s one of the most difficult think she could think of. A part of her mind is screaming to just… run for cover, take her horse and spend the time until the Ball with Keeper Hawen’s clan. Dig a hole in the garden to bury herself into, become fertilizer for the elfroot, it would just be fitting for her.

The other part, tho, knows better. The other part has the voice of Cole and of Radha and knows she needs to spit it out for it to go away, and go on with their lives.

So, she takes a deep breath, checks another time she’s in good order, fixing her doublet -the nice one, the one in teal velvet and golden buttons and pointy shoulder pieces that matches her Vallaslin- on her trousers, combing her hair more tidily behind her ears- Or maybe not? Are they too big? No, no, ok, that’s a stupid doubt. Combing her hair more tidily behind her ears. And with a big breath and a small prayer to Mythal for strength, she knocks.

He seems surprised to see her. It’s not lunch time, and he’s a little confused to see her so early. Asks her if something happened, jumping to emergency mode and leaving his desk, reaching for his sword instinctively. At least, seeing him so full of nerves helps in calming her down. A little, at least. Just enough to ask him, after some formalities and small talk about health and the situation in the Keep, if he has some minutes to speak with her.

Alone.

She puts emphasis on the adjective, bracing herself for a refusal, some frowning, some scolding because he has evidently, by the amount of paper piles on his desk, a lot of work to do and no time to lose with a silly elf that should be working and isn’t. And yet, he just fumbles more, puzzled by the “Alone”, and… And just leaves everything as it is and opens the door for her, leading her to the battlements and walking by her side.

Silence, between them, has always been comfortable, it has been from the start of their friendship, none really needing to fill the silence or force the other to speak at all costs. Which is something Aisling never likes to do, if she hasn’t anything to say. Cullen never required words, never expected her to speak and put her at ease. Now, their silence is charged, both embarrassed by a single, decisive word that the elf is now rethinking and reconsidering again and again. They pass the second tower. And the third.

“It’s… A nice day.” It’s Cullen, finally, to break the silence.

Except that Aisling is yet again in her own head, screaming internally as words elude her. And, allegedly, realising he’s speaking to her with half a minute of late. Enough that she just has to ask him: “What?”

Another pause, they both look at the other not knowing what to do.

“It’s…” He starts, rubbing his neck, but decides better right away, shaking his head and looking at her, instinctively straightening up. “There was something you wished to discuss.”

She nods, nervously. Here. That’s it. Moment of truth. Mythal have mercy, or tell Elgar’nan to open the earth and swallow her whole.

“Cullen, I care for you, and I-” She stops, words dying in her throat again, realising that he’s looking at her in the eyes and she really has not the guts for it. So, Aisling groans, averting her eyes and sighing, looking down.

“What’s wrong?” And now he sounds worried. Great.

“You left the Templars… But you wrote in your letter implying that the majority of people still dislikes you on principle. And…” A pause, trying to recollect her thoughts. “… I wanted you to know that I never disliked you on principle. And that I’m very sorry if I ever gave you this impression, really. But…”

He tries to reply, but she raises a hand, signalling to no, please, let her finish. He gets it. She’ll be damned because he somehow always gets what she’s saying, is probably the only one that had never troubles understanding her messy cursive, and right now it makes her heart clench because she’s about to ruin it.

“… but I know we’re friends, and… Well. I also know that you don’t have the best experiences with Mages…” She swallows. Spit it out, da’len, don’t let it poison you. “… Could you think of me as anything more than just that? Than an Apostate and… And a friend…?”

There. It’s not direct. It’s not blunt, because right now she can’t deal with directness. She hopes it’s enough, as she shily turns her head to peek at him, see what he’s doing and his expression.

“I could.”

He blurts out, abruptly, without a hint of hesitation in his voice. Aisling perks up, mouth open and eyes big in surprise and wonder at his admission, looking at him in the eyes.

"Wait... What?"

Wrong thing to ask, apparently, even if it burst out of pure surprise, out of needing a confirmation that she, indeed, has understood correctly and it's not just deluding herself. The result, all in all, is that Cullen shies away immediately, a hand coming up to rub his neck and turning away. He starts to walk again, as he fumbles with words again. Aisling just follows him, hope blossoming in her chest and butterflies doing evolutions in her stomach.

“I-I mean. I-I do.” A pause. “Think of you.” He starts to massage his temples. “… And what I might say in this sort of situation.”

She trots after him, heart hammering fast in her throat.

“What’s stopping you?” She asks, managing to slip in front of him and turn to face him, arresting his steps. The irony is not lost to both, and they exchange a smile as he, indeed, stops.

“You’re the Inquisitor, and we’re at war.” He states a note of regret in his voice. “And, you’re my friend. My best friend, before of everything else and I… I didn’t want to ruin it. Also I…” He sighs, shaking his head. “…I didn’t think it was possible.”

“And yet I’m still here.” She smiles, encouragingly. She can’t help but smiling, as she steps back to rest against the wall in a crenelle, both hands propped on the border. Heart full and near to bursting.

He smiles back, cheeks flushed pink as hers, stepping forward slowly to get closer. And closer.

“It seems too much to ask…”

“I’m your best friend, right? I don’t mind doing you a favour. If you want to, we can try...” She banters, half that and half fumbling herself, speaking too quickly and with not much sense, tying strings together just to fill the silence and vent some restlessness.

“… I want to.” If she’s restless and hyped, he’s soft and delicate, placing a hand over hers on the stone, looking at her right in the eyes as he gets closer and closer.

She’s pinned in place, she can just nod when he furrows just a little, to silently ask for permission, the way he does when they play chess, words are over and he asks her if he can move. The same way they communicate if they’re all right from one side to the other of the War Table. Aisling closes her eyes, floating in anticipation, feeling his breath -delicate, still, he must be keeping it, smelling faintly like elfroot and the herbs she put in his brew- she’s leaning minutely forward and their lips brush against each other, very tentatively before-

“Commander.”

He draws back, inhaling sharply through his nose. Aisling, on her own, thrown back to earth too abruptly, lowers her gaze and turns her head away from the newcomer, clearing her throat and straightening her spine.

“You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana’s report.” The Scout continues, and as Aisling looks at him, he has his head bent down on a writing board, not looking at where he goes or his surroundings.

She is grateful that he doesn’t, because like that he probably missed the Commander and the Inquisitor being far too close for propriety’s sake, and at the same time she knows that Cullen will get absolutely pissed by that attitude. He surely barked against her enough times in drills to always, always, mind your surroundings, how many enemies are around, terrain.

“What?” As on clue, Cullen barks, seething in irritation as he turns from her and marches to the poor, still incredibly unaware Scout.

“Sister Leliana’s report, sir, you wanted it delivered right away.” The Scout seraphically goes on, calm as if it was asking a friend to pass him the salt during a picnic on a sunny day.

Finally he raises his head, and Aisling can see all colour draining from his face. She’s trying her best to merge with the surroundings and pretend she’s not there, or she’s invisible, but she can’t help looking. Looking as the Scout suddenly realizes that he manages to step on at least three buttons of Commander Rutherford, enough to have him silent and most likely with a murderous expression on his face - again, Aisling knows that look he has with the particularly arrogant recruits that have him repeat very simple questions twice, explaining his work to him. The Scout looks at her, finally, and before Aisling snaps her head and eyes on the other side of the battlements, clearing her throat eloquently, she spots him absolutely terrified, putting 2 and 2 together.

“Or… Or…” The poor boy swallows. “… or to your office! R-right!”

It’s almost comical how he retreats walking backwards, not leaving Cullen’s eyes as one would do with some sort of wild animal very angry at you. As if he was afraid that by turning and running, the Commander would have understood that he was prey to run after, and jumped at his throat.

As the door to the guard tower slams behind the Scout again, Aisling speaks.

“Cullen, if you need to- oomph!”

He’s on her abruptly, heavily and roughly. He doesn’t really centre her mouth at first, and needs to readjust. But like that, he scrubs his beard against her face, slightly, and it’s rough and blissful and very weird, in a good sense. He cups her face, keeping her close and moving her slightly for a better position. She closes her eyes and kisses him back, not knowing where to put her hands. Tentatively, she decides that his ribcage, on his sides, is a good position. He doesn’t seem to mind, at least, when he moves away, red till the point of his ears, smiling goofily at her, eyes sparkling.

“I’m- I’m sorry. That was… Uh, that was nice.” He sounds not really convinced. It could be shyness, or not, she needs to know.

“… You don’t regret it, do you? I mean, we can always pretend it never happened, go on as before…” She prods, offering him a way out. She wouldn’t be able to go on as before, but she can try.

He just looks at her, tho, awestruck as if it is the first time he really sees her. Sees her for real, eyes shining and a smile not leaving his lips, bending his scar just so in that way she likes. She really hopes he doesn’t regret it, tho, because she doesn’t want him to look at her in any other way than this, and moreover she really, really wants to kiss him again. Kiss him better. Longer.

“No!” He answers her, and they both smile wider, one following the other. “No, not at all… Do you?”

“Mh. I’m not really sure. Care to try again? For science?”

And yet, she moves slightly closer, not going the full way, but making it clear that she’s up to it. He laughs, shaking his head and resting his forehead against hers, thumbs gently caressing her jaw where they’re still placed.

“Yes. Well…”

They try again. Slower, more tentatively, savouring the moment more. Aisling hugs him properly after a minute -she restrained herself-, bringing him closer despite his armour and cape. It’s really different than Ydun, it’s less soft and less delicate, movement less precise. It’s ten times better – more heartfelt, for once.  She manages to shift a little and indeed kiss his scar, humming in contentment, before Cullen seems to remember something and moves a little back, concern on his still flushed face.

“I- I wanted to say, forgive me for what I wrote. I never… it came out wrong, I’m awful with letters that aren’t report, I didn’t mean to say that I think you disliked me on principle, I don’t think that. It’s just that… I mean-”

He’s fumbling so much, looks so concerned even if he stull is blushing madly, ears deliciously pink. He’s fumbling so much that she starts to laugh, slipping her arms in front of him, her turn to cup his face and bring him back for another kiss - regretting she did wear gloves today, but she guess it would mean they’ll have to do it again.

“Shut up.” She tells him, giggling as she kisses him again. And again.

#dragon age #dragon age fic #cullavellan #cullen x lavellan #aisling lavellan #cullen rutherford #writing petrel #RIP Jim you'll be remembered amongst heroes #(in the tower there's a group of people following them around because they all have been pushing them against each other for a while) #(poor Jim would be trampled by the whole inner circle for almost jeopardising the whole operation) #Yes even Cole did his best #And eventually succeeded

[https-furina]

this puppy boys work is <33 hurting my soul

#gaaahh they’re so cute #for the record zhongli isn’t involved in puppified nor kittified #bc he’s going to get his own dragon fic hahssjsj #figured i should state that #— 🌊 inner thoughts #https-furina

[chaoticnerdsstuff]

U don't understand how I love the idea of dragon turning human

#when i was a kid I LOVED DRAGONS #i had this toy that was this cool green one and my older brother had a red one #so when fics show maleficent or mal having Dragon habits or attributes my inner child SQUEALS CUZ YES DRAGONS

[florallychaotic]

*shouting into the void* YOU KNOW MAYBE WRITING MORE OFTEN WOULD BE EASIER IF YOU DIDNT HAVE A WILDLY DIFFERENT STYLE FOR EACH PROJECT, THUS CAUSING YOU TO FEEL AWKWARD AND WEAR OUT QUICKER WHILE WRITING BECAUSE IT DOESNT FEEL "RIGHT"

#lol lmao even #the alice fic is the tired inner monologue of a woman who swears a lot #the dragon age fic is fantasy #and apostasy is a prose morose political story #OF COURSE I ALWAYS COME BACK TO ONE OF THEM FEELING LIKE I CANT GET BACK INTO THE STYLE OF THE WORK #alli rambles chaotically with flowers

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ OF DRAGON BEHAVIOUR AND OLDE TRADITIONS. 

fandom. genshin impact

pairings. neuvillette, zhongli x gn!reader

content warnings. sfw + nsfw, MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, heavily influenced by 'dragon' behaviour (is a bit leaned on a/b/o), 5 + 1 fic type (the + 1 is nsfw), possessive neuvie/zhongli, sfw: collaring, scenting, marking, nsfw: nesting, both of them have big dicks lol, talk about breeding, not edited/proofread, written in lowercase

word count. 1.8k

notes. i'm so down bad...

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ flaunting. 

once a dragon is mated, they like to show off their mate proudly. to enhance their physical aspects and to proclaim their trust in them, mates get draped in the dragon’s treasures. treasures this mythical beast usually hoards with jealousy. the shinier and bigger the treasures, the higher is the mate in social standing. 

neuvillette is less lavish with his treasures, simply because his priorities in his riches lay elsewhere. this is why you often where the brightest pearls, adoring your neck or shiny shells around your wrists. he enhances your beauty much subtler, but nonetheless you’re still worthy to be called his mate. after all, he’s a dragon of water, it’s only right for him to drape you in the gifts of the sea. 

zhongli prefers you in the finest silk and your skin adored with gold and other treasures found in the rich land that belongs to him. as a dragon of earth and especially as geo archon, all the gems are crafted in the most beautiful jewelry. everything to enhance your beauty. he especially likes you in cor lapis, a jewel in a color that he claims as his— and seeing you in this soft hue of orange swells pride in him. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ collaring. 

collaring can be seen as a step further of flaunting. the dragon creates an individual collar for their mate, to not only protect one of the weakest points of their body, their neck, but to also immediately signal that they belong to them. it signals protection and ownership, which is why mates rarely part with their gifted collars,as they’re also the first gift they receive as a dragon’s mate.

neuvillette knows that collars, by human standards, are not something normal. this is why he takes great care to create a collar that not only shows his strength but also fits within the domain the two of you move. this is why your collar is not a traditional one, instead resembling a tight necklace adorned by pearls and silver. it’s just enough to calm his instincts but also a fashionable item— one for which you’ve received many compliments. 

zhongli on the other hand has crafted a collar of which his elders would be proud of. it’s heavy on your neck, made by his own hands and not your usual jewelry. despite that, the collar is made by the best gems and jewels zhongli could find, and of course in his colors. and to ensure you’re comfortable wearing such a heavy collar, the inner side is embellished with the most expensive velvet he could find. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ acknowledgement. 

another important aspect between the relationship of a dragon and their mate is the acknowledgement of the hunt. once the dragon has successfully brought home the game, it is now up to the mate to appraise said game. only once they give their approval can the food be shared between them. this also includes all their offspring. 

neuvillette is always very careful with the food he brings to you. he ensures he’s the only one touching it, as tradition demands, and satisfactory enough for your plate. to him, keeping you fed and happy is much more important than to take care of his own needs. even when you always scold him, when he neglects himself, in this aspect he won’t bulge. 

zhongli himself has a very expensive taste and only the best is just good enough for his mate. no matter what you say, he will hunt on his own and pick all the herbs and berries himself, or else he wouldn’t even present the food. your approval is the highest praise, only one of the many reasons why zhongli takes so much care and time to honor this tradition. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ scenting. 

scenting is one of the few habits and traditions that are more intimate. a dragon scents their mate for several reasons. firstly, it’s one of the final steps of their ‘ownership’ over the mate. clothed in their treasure but also bathed in their scent. secondly, the process itself is very calming for the dragon, almost meditative. 

neuvillette likes to scent you when he comes home. it calms not only his dragon but also his mind. because of that, he never scents you in public, thinking it as a private matter and a treasured one added to that. it’s not something others should witness— you in his arms, pliant to his nosing, his gentle kisses and nibs on your skin and especially when he removes your collar to scent you on your neck. 

zhongli, despite being an old dragon, behaves as if he’s freshly mated and a young blood when it comes to scenting you. he dislikes smelling others on you or any artificial scent that’s not you. he has no shame scenting you in public, but over the years living with you he has reduced to the almost scandalous behaviour to nothing more but scenting on your wrists and a quick nosing on your cheeks. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ marking. 

marking is quite similar to scenting, only this behaviour varies from dragon to dragon. for some, a so called ‘mate-bite’ is enough, others like to add new markings everytime they couple with their mate. but there are even some dragons, who enjoy being marked by their mates, a most unusual behaviour. 

neuvillette has always enjoyed marking you, but is very gentle with it. his mate-bite, another physical sign that you belong to him, is located on your right shoulder, a wound healed a long time ago. he much prefers when you mark him, your teeth sinking in his much sturdier flesh. it leaves him breathless, just the mere thought of you marking him making his head spin— he loves to leave his marks on you, but he even loves it more when you mark him, to tell the whole world that he belongs to you. 

zhongli always loves to admire the marks his sharp teeth leave behind, trace his fingers over your reddened skin— he’s fascinated by your vulnerability and your eagerness to please him. but what matters most to him is that you love to wear his marks, never hesitate to show them off by not hiding them. social decorum would demand for you to hide them away behind draped fabrics, but instead you proudly wear them, as if they’re badges of highest honor. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ nesting. 

as every other animal, be it mythical or not, dragons go through a cycle. at it’s highest point, their fertility is much more prominent. to ensure the increased chances of success in producing offspring, the biology of dragons demands them to nest during the cycle. if the dragon ignores this inner instinct, it grows irritated or even aggressive to everyone who is not their mate. nesting ensures the comfort of both the dragon and their mate and helps them to properly prepare for their coupling. 

the moment the first child of the couple is born, nesting becomes a daily thing until said child passes the first stages of growth. the dragon builds a nest in their den, a different one from the ones in which the parents couple, and ensures that both mate and offspring are within this nest. the warmth and scent of both parents help the child to imprint on them and to recognize them later on as their sires. 

neuvillette, when it comes to nesting, is very picky about it. his nest has to be ready before his cycle starts and you have to be in it as well, pliant and ready for him. if you’re not comfortable, he gets stressed and that doesn't end well. 

for the most part, he has his instincts under control, but when you’re in his nest, naked and flushed, he tends to get feral. and once he lets go of that tight control he has over himself and his body, the dragon in him comes out. 

his pupils turning to slits, fangs sharpening and nails becoming claws. scales appear on his skin, his horns grow— neuvillette lets go of his human skin and becomes the closest he can be to a dragon without hurting you. it always excites you, seeing your usual calm and stoic mate all excited about the thought of breeding you. 

he’s an attentive lover, even if he could just slide into your hole and start fucking you stupid. instead he takes immense care to prepare you, hours even, lips and hands leaving marks on your skin while he makes you cum on his tongue several times. 

and then, when you see stars behind your closed eyes, your thighs shake around his head and you try to calm your breath— then he slowly slides into you, his giant cock hitting you in all right places, making you scream again—

then, only then, when you’re pliant and open for him, a flushing mess beneath his massive body and moaning his name— only then he would truly start to fuck you. 

zhongli is very attentive during nesting, but especially as your lover. he always puts your needs above his, simply because he finds pleasure when you enjoy yourself. 

despite being mated for a long time, you’re always nervous about nesting, especially about the most intimate part of it. zhongli is big and it’s always a tight fit, even if he prepares you with his fingers and mouth. you’re never in pain, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he would make you cry, but you’re still understandably nervous. 

zhongli doesn’t mind it, he understands and instead makes sure you’re distracted enough to not lose yourself in spiraling thoughts. it also helps when you’re breathless from the countless orgasms he has already given you, your hole wet enough, almost gushing, so the slide is smooth and painless for you. 

and you can’t lie, you enjoy his big dick, but sometimes it’s too overwhelming. yet the many years together has taught him many tricks and especially things you enjoy. 

you flush beneath him, when he starts praising you, his rich voice causing goosebumps all over your body. you whimper, when his fangs craze over your skin and moan when he actually bites you. 

but you truly lose your mind when he starts fucking you, slow but deep thrusts, taking his time while you writhe beneath him. it seems so effortless, how he’s destroying you, as if he isn’t going crazy when his mate is in his nest, calling his name, clinging onto him, begging him to go faster, harder, begging for more. 

taglist. @trailblazernet , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @verxsyon , @auraxins , @lupicalbestwolf , @the-dumber-scaramouche , @spiriteddreams , @kiiyoooo , @8-xnny , @spiriteddreams

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

ARKHAM MAID 2023

#neuvillette x reader #zhongli x reader #neuvillette x you #zhongli x you #neuvillette smut #zhongli smut #genshin neuvillette #genshin zhongli #genshin smut #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations #after dark <3

[jmoriarty-221b]

Oh to remember when How to Train your Dragon first came out and ignited your first ever hyperfixation and deep dive into fandom through YouTube edits and Quotev stories before you discovered Wattpad and jumped on there to immerse in this magical and fantastical world full of possibilities and how long you had to dig to get a truly good story but oh how rewarding it felt to discover it from the myriad of others and how it spiraled into you making up headcannons on your own and keeping multiple storylines in your head to cycle through daydreams and how it felt so original, so simple, so obvious to give Toothless another night fury companion since he was undoubtedly the night sky and even the night has the shining moon to accompany it so of course Toothless’ companion could only be a white night fury and oh how you thought you had left it all behind until How to Train your Dragon 3 emerges and your pre-teen self is absolutely losing their minds at how something that you could once only daydream about was now an official part of one of the movie series most dear to your heart and you could do nothing but wonder how strange life is

#how to train your dragon 3 #oh the funny little coincidences #we have all read that one fic where toothless becomes human don’t lie #it’s that one and the one where he gets a girlfriend that’s completely white with usually purple eyes #those are what I believe to be the two universal truths in the mind of everyone who grew up with this series #you’re gonna look at me and tell me that I’m wrong 👁👄👁 #you can’t #I did it and you did it and everyone did it #my little inner child was Shooketh when I saw that they gave Toothless and gf and she was exactly how i always thought she would be #humor

[actuallykiwi]

Inner Dragon Chapter 4: The Dragonstone

(One of the longer chapters, little bookmarks placed for your convenience if you need them!)

The Bannered Mare was especially busy at this time of night. Merchants, farmers, and nobles alike all came in for their nightly mugs of warm mead and even warmer temperatures by the fire. Annie and her new traveling companion were enjoying their own meal in the corner of the room, listening to the bard’s version of Ragnar the Red and watching the patrons drunkenly sing along. 

“So you’re just doing this as a favor to the Jarl? What if they still can’t locate your brother?” Kaidan inquired of her over his mead. “Well, then I guess it’s off to the next town, which I’m guessing would be Solitude. That is the Imperial capitol of Skyrim, after all. It would be where the surviving soldiers would report.” She thought aloud. He nodded in agreement and took a swig of his drink. 

There was a moment’s pause where everyone applauded the bard Mikael’s performance, and then went about their business. Annie politely clapped and then looked across the table at Kaidan. “So... What exactly happened with the Thalmor?” He cleared his throat as he finished his mead. “Aye, guess I owe you that much.” He thought for a moment. “I’d been trying to find a way to cross the border into Pale Pass. Ever since Helgen, it’s been near impossible to get into Cyrodiil without a stack of papers for the Empire to keep track of you.” She scoffed, “Yep, we love our lists...” 

“In the meantime, I’d been picking up bounty contracts to keep some coin in my pocket. Must have drawn too much attention to myself. I’d been camping by the lake when they ambushed me. It seems the Thalmor don’t need much evidence to bring in a suspect.” He spat the last few words out. “They took one look at that sword, and decided I’d be a good target for interrogation. Then they dragged me off to that prison.” Annie looked at him with concern in her eyes. “You must’ve been scared...”

Kaidan chuckled. “Brynjar used to say, ‘If you’re not a little afraid, you’re not understanding the situation.’ Fear I can handle easily enough...” He paused, and his expression darkened. “...But there was a moment or two where I thought it might really be the end for me. The Thalmor would have never let me go, no matter what I told them. You’ve faced down mortality too... Perhaps you know the feeling?” 

She thought quietly for a moment. “Honestly, not until recently... When the dragon attacked Helgen, and I was separated from Alec, I was terrified that something was going to happen to him, or to me. ‘Cause y’know, when the sky opens up and starts raining fire, and a big black dragon is literally grabbing people from the ground, it’s a little terrifying, huh?” She chuckled nervously. Kaidan gave her a quizzical look at her change in tone. She cleared her throat. “But... yeah, I know what it’s like to be scared. But when that fear comes, you just have to fight through it. Keep a clear head and do what you can.” 

He nodded. “Good advice.” He raised his mug to her and took a swig. “The Thalmor will come after you again, you know. They’re persistent.” She told him. He set his mug down with a heavy sigh and glanced at the door. “Probably. And I’ll be ready for them. Live and learn, right?” She grinned. “Right. And now you’ve got a little backup for next time!” She lifted her arm and patted her muscles proudly. He snorted, “Little is right, pipsqueak.” 

“Wha- hey!” She threw a small piece of bread at him, and they both laughed. After a while, the two finished their meal and headed off to their room for the night. 

Annie tossed and turned in her bed. Something felt off to her, but she couldn’t explain it. It was almost like a sense of dread, a looming storm cloud over her head that had yet to pour the rain. She turned on her side to face Kaidan on the other side of the room. “Psstt, Kaidan. Are you awake?” 

Kaidan was on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah. Suppose I’m still on edge, thinking they tracked me in here.” She glanced at the door. “I don’t think they will. The guy’s head is kinda on the floor...” He laughed softly, “Aye, I suppose that’s true. We should be safe for now. Let’s just get some sleep.” With that, he turned his back to her and was soon snoring peacefully. 

She sighed and shifted to her back, gazing at the wooden beams on the ceiling. Maybe it was her missing her brother, or being worried about him, or the fact that something was shifting in the air in Skyrim. Rumors of dragons returning flooded the streets, and she probably wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen one for herself, up way too close for comfort. But this pit in her stomach was strong. Whatever it was, it was like she said before; whatever happens, just fight through it, and do what you can. 

With a final affirmation to be brave to herself, she finally fell asleep.

********************

The sun glinted blindingly on the snow that had fallen overnight. It was an especially cold day in the Whiterun Plains, but still the sun persisted on melting away the ice, allowing some semblance of warmth in its rays. Annie and Kaidan bundled their cloaks to themselves tightly as they headed back toward Riverwood. The snow had frozen the river, but the cold was doing nothing to stop the townsfolk from their daily lives. The lumberjack still ran, the blacksmith hammered away, and though slightly slower, the guards stayed ever vigilant. Annie was happy to see that Irileth had followed through on her promise to send more troops, as more guards patrolled the street than she had last seen.

“According to Farengar, Bleak Falls Barrow isn’t far from here. Should we ask someone?” Annie thought aloud. “Maybe we can ask the shopkeep. Might wanna pick up a few more supplies, too. Couldn’t hurt.” Kaidan agreed, and lead her to a shop in the heart of town. 

“I said no! No theatrics, no thief chasing!” “Well then, what are you going to do about it?” “We are done talking about this!” The duo was greeted by shouting as they opened the door. A frustrated looking woman was stomping away from the counter where a man had his face in his hand. He glanced up and flushed. “Oh, a customer! Sorry you had to hear that...” He cleared his throat “I don’t know what you overheard, but the Riverwood Trader is still open for business.” 

Annie gave him a puzzled look. “Did something happen?” The man’s face went bashful. “Uh, we uh, we did have a bit of a break-in... Thieves didn’t take much, but they made off with my prized piece: an ornament, solid gold, in the shape of a dragon’s claw.” She glanced up at Kaidan who just eyed her coolly. “We could help you get it back, if you want?” She offered.

 “Really? I’ve got some coin coming in from the last shipment, it’s yours if you bring the claw back.” “Oh, no, you really don’t-” 

“We’re in.” Kaidan chimed. She nudged him reproachfully. “What? Man’s gotta eat.” He grinned. “Where can we find these thieves?” “Holed up in Bleak Falls Barrow. Don’t know why they hang around a crypt like that, ain’t none of my business.” Annie and Kaidan looked at each other. “Well, what luck! That’s where we’re heading!” 

“I can show you how to get there, if you’d like!” The woman from earlier stepped back into the room with a hopeful smile. “No, Camila, you’re not going anywhere near there!” She rolled her eyes at the man behind the counter. “I’ll just take them to the edge of town, Lucan, calm down. Now, follow me.” She tilted her heads at them and led them back outside. 

“You’ll have to forgive my brother and I’s bickering, he is so overprotective.” Camila complained as they strode back down the street. “I totally understand. Mine is too.” Annie smiled sadly. Her heart ached a little at how much she was worrying about Alec. 

They reached a bridge a little north of the town entrance. “Now just head up the mountain and there should be a path to the south that will take you right to the barrow. But be careful, those dirty thieves and lowlifes don’t fight fair.” Camila warned them. Kaidan chuckled, “Neither do I, then.” He stalked on ahead, shortly followed by Annie after she thanked their guide. 

A steady brisk breeze had started as they headed along the path that Camila had pointed them to, winding up the southern face of the mountain. It picked up as they climbed higher, snow beginning to whisper along the stone. Eventually, they reached a crumbling tower where the path took a sharp turn to the right. Outside, two bandits were lazily patrolling, until one of them spotted the pair. He drew his sword and sneered at them. “That’s close enough. You wanna keep all your limbs, you turn right back around right now.” 

Kaidan coolly took a breath and drew his, not stopping. “And if you wanna keep yours, you’ll let us pass.” The bandit laughed. “Oh, I’m gonna love counting out your coin!” The bandit charged him, and before Annie could stop him, Kaidan was lunging, too. And she swore she saw him smile as he shouted, “My blade is thirsting for blood!” 

Kaidan made short work of his attacker, then dove easily to the side as an arrow from the second bandit swished past him. Annie sighed and placed herself between them, shooting lightning at their other foe, who went flying back into the tower. Gods, she hated shooting people. Kaidan looked back at her with an almost shocked expression. She almost glared back at him. “You really woke up and chose violence this morning, didn’t you?” 

“Excuse you, but he drew his blade first.” He retorted. “Yeah, but you seemed all too happy to return the favor.” She grimaced as she glanced down at the crimson snow surrounding the dead bandit, then began back on their path without another word. 

***************************

It was a short walk to the Barrow from the tower. The light flurry had now turned into a harsh snowfall. Annie couldn’t help but stare in awe at the sheer size of the Barrow. Towering stone arches and pillars paved the path to the even larger stone crypt half-buried in snow. The wind whistled through and around the landscape as they shielded themselves from the cold and made their way to the stone stairway leading up to the entrance. And a group of bandits were waiting to give them a warm welcome. 

The first sign was an arrow that bounced off the stair right in front of Annie, causing her to jump. “We’ve got company!” Kaidan already had his sword out of its sheath and was storming up the stairs, meeting two bandits blade-to-blade. Annie dove to the side as more arrows clanged on the stairs. She perched herself on the wall, trying to see through the snow where the arrows were coming from. She found her target off in the distance, perched on a ledge. After checking on Kaidan, who was having way too much fun pummeling the thugs, she dashed past them and shot her sparks at the archer, who fell shaking onto the ground below. As she made her way towards the entrance of the Barrow, Kaidan joined her. He had taken down every other bandit that was here, as evidenced by the bodies that now lay strewn about the stone. He was almost laughing to himself until he saw her expression as she tunnel-visioned her way to the large stone door. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She shook her head, “Just... don’t worry about it.” He was about to pry further, but just shrugged and helped her push the doors open.

The great stone doors gave way with a loud grinding groan. The cold hissed inside, bringing flurries in with it as they turned to shove it closed with a loud boom! “Who was that? Think the cold is getting to the others?” “Probably, sounds like the wind is doing a number on them.” “Eh, let ‘em freeze. Once Arvel uses that golden claw thing and finds the treasure here, we’ll get a bigger cut.” Two voices echoed from down the large entrance room, where a welcoming-looking fire flickered its glow along the walls. Annie whispered to Kaidan, “Well, we know the claw is here at least. Wanna try a more peaceful route with these guys?” Kaidan scoffed. “Annie, bandits don’t do ‘peace’. Not unless they get gold out of it.” She grabbed his arm before he could lift his sword again. “Just... try?” 

He eyed her for a second, then sighed. “Fine. But when they start shouting about counting our coin, heads are rolling.” He trudged from the door, a pleased Annie trailing behind him. But the pleased feeling didn’t last long. As soon as the bandits realized they weren’t their comrades, they attacked, and Kaidan had to once again clear them out. 

Once they were down, Annie sighed. “Something’s bothering you.” Kaidan noted as he cleaned and sheathed his sword. She looked up at him, then worry filled her eyes. “You’re hurt.” “Huh?” He looked down and noticed a gash on his arm. “Aye, that I am. But you didn’t ans-” She grabbed his arm and held her hand over the gash. With a deep breath, she summoned her healing, and a warm golden glow surrounded them with ribbons of light passing through. A gentle warmth spread through his arm as the wound closed, and when she looked up at him, he was looking at her with an expression she couldn’t figure out. “What?” She asked as the glow slowly faded. “I... thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” She smiled at him briefly before heading down the stairs into the crypt, a curious Kaidan poking at his arm behind her.

A short walk down some decrepit hallways filled with empty urns and chests told them that the bandits had already ransacked this place. They knew they were bound to run into more, and sure enough, they came across a lone bandit standing in possibly a storage room, filled with various miscellaneous loot. Kaidan reached for his sword, but this time Annie blocked him. “Wait,” she gestured at the bandit. His back was to them, and he was approaching a lever in the middle of the room. He pushed it forward, and before it had even clicked into place, arrows rained into him from somewhere in the walls, tainted with a nasty green bile. The bandit fell to the floor convulsing, and then was still. “Poison,” Kaidan thought out loud as they carefully approached the corpse. “Nasty way to go. I know the lever triggered the trap, but why?”

Annie surveyed the room. She noted three animal runes carved in random places along the corners of the room, and to their left, three pillars with similar creatures. “It’s a puzzle. These go in a specific order...” She approached the pillars and tested her theory, turning the first one around. “Yep, these spin. So if we follow the pattern on the walls...” She pointed at the animal rune right above her, then followed the others, “it should be... Snake, snake, whale?” After she spun them, she cautiously approached the lever. “Be ready to run, just in case.” 

Kaidan crouched low at the ready, and Annie did the same with healing summoned in her hand, and then pushed the lever. Both of them dove for the opposite door, but the grinding of the gate lifting told them they were clear. “Phew! I’m glad that worked!” Annie laughed with relief and trotted onwards. “Nicely done. Thanks for not getting us poisoned,” Kaidan said. “All in a day’s work!” She grinned widely, which caused him to chuckle. “Save people with ancient Nordic puzzles in old prehistoric ruins all the time, eh?” She snorted, “Oh yeah, it’s become quite a hobby-” 

“Is... is someone coming? Is that you Harknir? Bjorn? Soling?” 

A voice called from further down the way. Annie and Kaidan exchanged a glance before running towards them. They came to a doorway that was completely blocked by a thick webbing, and Annie froze. “That’s... that’s spider webbing. Ohhh, I’ve heard about Skyrim’s Frostbite Spiders but I secretly prayed that I would never have to see one and now-” she gulped and took a shaky breath, “... there’s one here, isn’t there?” Kaidan couldn’t help but snicker and began hacking at the webbing. “Stay behind me then, little chicken. I’ll take care of it.” 

“Hey, everyone has their feaaaAAHHH!!!!” She screamed as they entered the room, and a Giant Frostbite Spider slid down from the ceiling. “Ahh! Kill it! Kill it!” The origin of the voice yelled from the other side of the room, but the massive foe was blocking the way. Kaidan began confronting it while Annie kept her distance and blasted bolts at it. After a few minutes of dodging poisonous spit and massive spiky legs, he finally thrust his blade through the face of the spider, and with a sickening gurgle, it collapsed. He pulled it out, panting with a sigh of relief, and turned to see his partner breathing just as heavily. “You good there?” 

Annie laughed dryly as she caught her breath. “Yeah, just... used a lot of magicka. I’m good!” She gave a weak thumbs up and Kaidan had to chuckle at how pale she had become. “Hey! Over here!” Now the voice from before called out, and as they approached, they noticed it was a dark elf strung up in the webs. “Cut me down from here! I know where the treasure is, up ahead!” He begged. “No sudden moves, understood?” Kaidan prompted. The elf nodded, and he moved his sword from where he had it pointed at his chest and did as he asked. 

“It’s coming loose, I can feel it!” With a few more swings, the elf fell to the ground in a heap of web. Then he rose and scoffed at them. “You fools. Why should I share the treasure with anyone?” Then he turned and ran down the hallway he was blocking. “That must have been that Arvel guy the others mentioned. Whcih means he has the claw.” Kaidan muttered. Annie stepped forward, “At least he didn’t attack. Come on, maybe we can catch up to him.” 

The halls lead to dusty chambers with long-dead bodies stacked neatly in little alcoves along the walls. They had reached the burial crypts. Kaidan scowled. “Urgh, that cold stink of undeath.” “Undeath? You mean the draugr?” Annie asked, and he nodded. “Aye. I’m sure we’re bound to run into some here... And it looks like they ran into our friend.” 

As they rounded the corner, the elf’s body lie crumpled on the ground with a putrid draugr standing over it. Hearing them approach, the old dead turned to face them with a low gurgling growl. Before it had its axe raised, Kaidan dispatched it with a slash to the chest. The draugr barked as it fell to the ground, dead once more. Annie looked back at the dead elf, and something glinted and caught her eye. She leaned down to investigate, and came back up with a golden, gilded claw. “And there it is..” Kaidan approached her and studied it with her. “’An ornament, solid gold, in the shape of a dragon’s claw.’” She nodded and placed it in her pack. “Let’s keep moving. And watch your step, that’s a pressure plate that I’ll bet triggers that wall.” She pointed to a large moving gate covered in sharp spikes that indeed was pulled back, and ready to swing. “Huh. Surprised these things are still set. Then again, I’m sure it’s been centuries since someone’s been here.” Kaidan noted. Carefully avoiding the pressure plate, they pressed on. 

More draugr awaited them in the next few chambers. A swinging blade trap gave them pause, but Annie concocted a way to get past them by crawling low to the ground, only barely grazing their hair. A chamber filled with oil and lit lamps made an easy way to dispatch the draugr without attacking them directly, but they had to wait for the fire to die out. Eventually, they followed a stream that led to a waterfall, and after dispatching the frost troll that somehow made its way there and a tough draugr guarding a large door, they finally made their way into Bleak Falls Sanctum. 

**************************

This time, Kaidan took the lead crawling under the swinging blade trap. Once he pulled the chain on the other side, Annie crossed through, just as a sarcophagus nearby cracked open and a sleepy draugr arose. Two more made their way down the stairs at the other side of the chamber. While Kaidan dealt with the first, Annie shot sparks at the lanterns that hung in the center of the room, launching them at her pursuers. They exploded on impact, taking them both down. “I love these lanterns!” She exclaimed, smiling proudly to herself. He laughed and followed her up the stairs and further on. 

A short walkway lead to a large, intricately carved door. It was eerily quiet compared to the rest of the crypt. They approached the great door cautiously. It was blanketed in a thick coat of dust, like it hadn’t been opened in a very long time. Annie ran her hand over the animals that were carved into blank spots on three separate rows, down to a single round lock in the middle, with three holes etched in. “Wait... the claw! Didn’t it have those animals on it?” Kaidan asked. She dug the golden claw out of her pack and held it up to the door. “It’s a key! We just need to put in the right combination!” She studied the animals on the claw, then spun each of the rows until they matched the pattern on it. She then held the claw up to the center and gently placed it into the holes. “Be careful. These puzzles are more often locked to keep things in, not out.” Kaidan warned. She nodded, and carefully twisted the key. The whole door shuddered and the rings swung back into place. Dust showered down from the door, and with a few loud clicks and thuds, it slowly slid down with a loud grinding groan. 

She took a breath. “Well, we know why the claw is so valuable now. Ready to find out what’s in there?” “Hopefully the Dragonstone. But yeah, let’s do this.” He nodded and stepped past the door. 

A short stairway lead into a large, echoing chamber with light pouring in from the ceiling. Bats fluttered above as they approached a stream flowing from two waterfalls on either side of the cavern. A stone bridge lead up to a large multi-level stone platform with a small bookcase, a sarcophagus, and a chest. Behind all of this was a large, curved stone wall with an odd, ancient language inscribed in it, and a stone dragon head resting on top. For some reason, Annie’s eyes landed and stayed on this wall, and she found herself drawn to it. “Annie? What are you doing?” Kaidan asked. She didn’t seem to hear him, and continued approaching the wall. One of the words was glowing, bright and beckoning. She had never seen this language and yet, it felt so familiar. The edges of her vision blurred until the word was all she could see. “Annie?” She didn’t know this language. But there was a force that stirred inside her, filling her every muscle. Yes, that was it. 

Force. “FUS”

The word resonated in her until it all faded away, and she was left with a slight rush of adrenaline, and a little woozy. “You alright?” Kaidan stepped into her field of vision, and she focused back in. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. But I don’t know what-” A loud CRACK interrupted her. They both whirled around to the sarcophagus, where a tall, heavily armored draugr was dragging itself onto the stone. Kaidan yanked his sword from his sheath as the monster turned to face them, towering over them. Kaidan let out a battle cry and lunged, but the draugr took in a short breath, and Shouted. It was in a language she had never heard, possibly the same from the wall, but taken physical form. The sheer force of its cry launched them both back a few feet, tumbling to the ground. It shuffled towards them, but Kaidan was quick to stagger back to his feet and parry the draugr’s first swing. Annie shook herself out of it, and stood to help him. He was still shaking it off himself, but he stood his ground against it as their swords’ clangs echoed around the cavern. She waited for an opening, then struck her lightning at the beast. It paused just long enough for him to land a blow. He cried out again and landed swings in rapid succession. Finally with a sickening crunch, he drove his sword into the center of the draugr. Kaidan locked his eyes with its glowing blue ones, until the glow faded and it fell to the ground. 

He panted and fell to one knee. Annie rushed over to him and immediately began healing where the draugr had landed hits of its own. “Thanks,” Kaidan muttered. “That may have been the toughest draugr I’ve ever faced. Some kind of Death Overlord or something.” “Ah, so you made a hobby of this kind of thing?” She asked. “I did tell you I started taking up bounties. A few included things like this, but nothing this major.” He explained, then looked back at his now-dead foe before him. “Now , what’s this...” He leaned forward and picked up a plaque that was sticking out of the back of the draugr’s armor. “I do believe we have found our elusive Dragonstone, Miss Annie.” 

Annie took the stone from his outstretched hand and smiled. “Farengar wasn’t lying when he said it might be interred in the main chamber. But he didn’t mention this thing guarding it.” She said. “Well that would’ve deterred you away, now wouldn’t it?” He teased. “Heh, fair enough.” 

Kaidan began rummaging through the chest, taking anything of value. “I wonder what Farengar plans to cipher from this Dragonstone...” he wondered. Annie took to studying the wall, running her hand along the word that was glowing before. Force... “So... What happened before? When you looked at that word wall, it was as if you fell into a trance.” Kaidan was now standing right behind her. “Wait, you didn’t see the light from the runes? Or hear anything?” She turned to face him. 

“Uh, no? All I know about these walls is that they’re usually some sort of memorial, never heard about them being magic. But it’s clearly had an affect on you... Are you feeling alright?” He looked at her with concern in his eyes. She searched for the words. “It felt like... one of the words was reaching out to me, and the stone was speaking...” He thought for a minute. “Perhaps some magical way of communicating? It’s the purpose of these memorials to deliver messages, after all. Farengar might know more.” She nodded. “Yeah. I think I’ll be okay, I just don’t know how to explain what I saw...” 

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, there’s no pressure to. I’d rather you take it easy than let some old magic scramble your brains.” She chuckled. “Aww, you do care!” He rolled his eyes but couldn’t conceal his smirk. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head. Ready to get out of here?” 

She nodded vigorously. “Please. I’m gonna take like three baths to get all this dust off of me.” At that, he laughed. After quickly scouring the cavern for any more loot they might find and discovering a hidden exit out of the cave, Annie made sure she had the Dragonstone securely in her pack, and the two emerged from the Barrows into the frigid Skyrim night.

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#skyrim #writing #fanfiction #inner dragon fic #annie sinclair #kaidan skyrim #kaidan skryim mod

[fan-goddess]

Hi! I saw your kinktober post and I was wondering if you could do Aemond and a wife!reader with the breeding kink? Like they’ve been married for a while and they’re trying to have a baby now? Thank you and have an awesome day or night!

Authors Note: You’re very welcome love hope you yourself have an awesome day or night too! ♥️

This is shorter than usual, but hey it’s my fic!

Warnings: P in v sex, breeding kink, hints at possible issues to conceive, dirty talk, possible exhibitionism (if i miss any let me know!)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat

Your marriage to the Prince Aemond Targaryen, much to the surprise of many in court, was quite fruitful.

His touch possessed a softness that no other man had ever showed to you before, and his words showed nothing but pure devotion to you and your well-being.

It was a marriage that you had never expected to find love in, and yet not even a couple weeks after first meeting your betrothed, you and him found yourselves hiding between the tall looking bookshelves in the library, whispering loving words to each other in between sweet kisses placed on each others lips.

Eventually, when the night of the wedding finally came round, it felt as though you were truly witnessing the release of Aemonds inner dragon. That night, he made you feel things you would’ve never thought you would ever experience before. Love being one of them, and true lust and pleasure coming soon after.

His actions and words made you wish for the two of you to possess a physical embodiment of yours and his love for each other. It made you wish every night for a child.

Only it was now nearly a year since the night beginning your marriage, and no child bared fruit. You visited the maester every three weeks, and yet every time you visited you were greeted by him with a face of sympathy and a containment of bad news.

It was what you were walking back from now. Your head held low and your hand placed on your empty womb as familiar news weighed on your head for the unknownth time. You walked solemnly into Aemonds welcoming arms as he stood there waiting for you, and he softly stroked your back with a comfortingly fiery warm palm.

“Was it the same ñuha vēzos.” Aemond murmurs, his lips hovering over the top of your head as he kissed random areas of skin with a tenderness none other than you would truly know of him to possess.

“Yes ñuha jorrāelagon. But it is alright! For we may always try again and again! Until we know for certain your seed has taken root inside of me…” You say back, smiling slightly as you feel aemonds hands grip tighter slightly at your skin, while you yourself practically whisper the words in his ear.

“Do not go about teasing me like that ñuha vēzos, for if you continue I will not be a kind man tonight like I know you so love me to be…”

“Well maybe I wish you to be rough with me tonight my love. Maybe I want you to restrict me on our bed and fuck me till you are certain my womb is filled to the brim of your seed, and and that a child has been conceived. What if I was to want that, my dearest husband?” Your smile shows none of the sadness it held earlier, only of the depravity you wish to indulge yourselves in. Aemonds however, his usual face of neutrality holds does nothing to conceal the lust he feels in that moment.

“Then I suppose you will get it then, like the needy little whore you are…” Aemonds hands grip your waist firmly as he all but pushes you towards the bed, making it so you to fall onto it with a small surprised gasp.

His actions though only serve to make you more aroused as practically tears your clothes straight from your body, revealing yourself to him entirely whilst he himself is still fully clothed.

“Aw, is my little whore needy for my cock?” He grins, slowly beginning to undo the laces of his trousers, chuckling at the way you cannot stop yourself from staring at his erect cock.

“Come on little whore, answer me!” Aemond demands, leaning forward to brush his lips on your own, yet reviling when you try to connect them and his hand that somehow made it to the back of your head, makes it so you cannot. He even chuckles when you lightly whine from frustration, and the slightly pleasant burning sensation on your scalp from him pulling on your hair.

“I-I’m needy for your cock husband! I wish to have you fill me completely with your seed, however you may wish to do so!”

“Good answer…” Aemond growls, leaning back to undress himself entirely before sitting back up on the bed. He moves you slightly, but then comes the hot and heavy feeling of Aemonds cock filling you, and it all feels right again.

Your own moans are practically illegible. All of them involving heavy words that slide off your tongue like silk, with a couple odd moans in between.

Aemond though doesn’t have this same issue, as he continues to grunt dirty words and groans into your ear that makes you more desperate than ever for him.

“I’m going to breed you tonight ñuha jorrāelagon! I’m going to fill your whorish hole with my seed till it’s full and dripping of me, and your womb holds possession of our child. Our son and heir… do you want that ñuha jorrāelagon? To be filled with me? You know I love you, yes?”

“Yes! Yes! I-I love you too ñuha jorrāelagon! Of course I want that! I want that so much please fill me valzȳrys!” You whine. The pronunciation for the Valyrian on your tongue was weak as it drips of your tongue like a heavy slur, yet the meaning does not go to waste, as Aemond growls in approval at it and somehow manages to thrust harder and faster into you. Your whines and moans almost overpowering the sounds of yours and Aemonds sweat covered skin smacking against each other again, and again.

Your voice may have sounded wanton before, and yet with Aemonds new found passion and determination currently coursing through his veins, his cock manages to find and bully that rough patch deep within your cunt and suddenly, you reach a whole new level of volume.

It’s so loud in fact, that Aemond feels the need to place his rough palm over your mouth, which does very little to silence you.

“As much as I love your noises my love, I do not wish to share your glorious sounds with the guards who wait outside our chambers at this very moment. Do you think you could be silent for me ñuha jorrāelagon? Or do I need to help silence you the rest of the night?” It’s so condescending, so shameful to think that the guards could hear you outside these walls. Yet at the same time, sick thrill also manages to find its way up the length of your spine too.

If anything, it almost makes you want to be louder to show them all that it is your husband who you belong to you. It’s only him who owns your body and your love.

Your breath becomes heavy as Aemond continues to restrict your breathing with his palm, and yet if anything you find yourself loving it way more than you should. The feeling of Aemond overpowering you, controlling you in this way, was one of the best feeling you’ve ever felt in your marriage. In your life even.

“Oh… does my little wife like this? Her husband taking what he wants? Her husband taking her tight little cunt and leaving his seed deep inside of her?”

You can only nod quickly in agreement, yet when Aemond removes his hand you take in a few sharp breathes before quickly speaking.

“Yes husband, I love it! Please husband, I think I’m gonna cum! Please leave your cum deep inside of me, I need it so badly!” You whine, and the feeling of everything crashes down on you, as you cum hard on his cock. Aemonds beautiful groans being the only thing able to pierce the ringing in your ears as you can feel his own peak take over him, and his hot cum flooding your insides.

He holds you tightly, unrelenting in letting you fo from his grip. Even when you try to move to grab a nearby cloth.

“Aemond!” You whine. Not from frustration, but from amusement, as he huffs his annoyance at your movements into the skin of your neck. “I need to clean myself up! I’m all sweaty and disgusting!”

“That is where you are wrong ñuha jorrāelagon. You could never be disgusting in my view. You are beautiful…” His words are accompanied by small kisses on the spots he knows are your weakness, and if you were standing currently, your legs would have at this point given up on you. “You are gorgeous.. which is why, I am so obliged in keeping my cock inside of you, to make sure my precious seed stays inside your pretty cunt. All stuffed inside being held in only by my cock… I suppose I will need to fuck another load of my seed inside of you though. To make sure it takes…”

You feel like a whore as you nearly outwards moan at your husband words. He knows where to hit where you’re most sensitive, both with his words and with other things…

You cannot even dare to breath as you merely nod enthusiastically to his proposal. Smiling as you begin to moan once more from his cock, which has already managed to achieve full hardness, and now bullies that special spot inside you. Your lips move to claim his neck, and it all feels right as Aemonds sighs brush against your ear.

It most certainly feels right, as the next month when you visit the maester again, and he reveals for the first time with a smile, that you’re with child.

It most certainly feels right, as you hold yours and Aemonds daughter in your arms, moving so the both of you could affectionately kiss the top of her head, that already is littered with gorgeous silver curls.

“She’s beautiful…” Aemond murmurs, unable to take his gaze from her as she sleeps peaceful in your arms. “She takes after her mother in that…”

“Oh no dear husband…” You deny, choosing to lovingly look at the sight of him gazing at her with such rare softness. “She takes after you in that...”

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fic #house of the dragon smut #my kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #my works #ewan mitchell #aemond fanfiction

[grandlinedreams]

|| uhh i forgot the mating bond is just kind of a feelings/vibe pathway rather than talking so just assume reader is Daemati or smthing idk i'm too lazy to fix it and it's part of the fic

|| warnings: enemies(ish?) To lovers, mating bond fic, angst, some pining, cursing, nsfw ㅡ oral (f & m receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, piv unprotected sex (make informed decisions, kids!), breeding kink

You'd always been a sucker for fairytales.

You'd grown up on a healthy dose of them, tales repeated over and over with the weary affection of your mother as you clamored for them again. 

And what young child wouldn't enjoy stories of knights and dragons and damsels in towers? Where the villain was always clear cut, good and bad measured in black and white.

Too bad the real world never dealt with such things. No, there was no prince to kiss you from a death-like slumber, no knight to rescue you from a tower.

But there is a Cauldron, the Mother ㅡ and whatever gods exist to laugh at the hand that they've dealt you.

That's the only reason you can think of as to why you, part of Rhysand's Inner Circle, can only stare in mute disbelief at Eris Vanserra as the mating bond, mocking you with the idea of shimmering gold, snaps into place. 

“Are you done moping yet?” 

“For the last time, Mor,” you huff as you turn the page of your book, “I'm not moping. I'm busy.” 

“Busy,” Mor mocks. “Looks like moping to me. You need to stop hanging out with Az so much.” 

She waits all of two minutes before she's moving towards you, knocking the book out of your hands to drape herself across you like a contented housecat. “Come on, you need to live a little.”

“I'm four hundred and fifty years old,” you counter, hating the way a smile twitches at the corners of your lips. “I think I've lived quite a lot so far.”

“Being a bore with books and training isn't living,” Mor protests with a huff. “You've been acting weird for the last two decades, don't deny it.” 

You freeze. “I have not.”

Honey brown eyes meet yours. “Have too. You've been acting weird ever since that run in withㅡ” 

You slap a hand over her mouth. “Don't,” you hiss, then recoil. “Did you just lick my hand?” 

Mor grins as you wipe your hand on the couch before she eyes you, brow furrowing.

“Seriously,” she says, her expression sobering. “Did he do something? Because you know Rhys would want to knowㅡ” 

“No, Mor.” You push her off of you and stand. “He didn't do anything.” 

Left, right, dodgeㅡ

“Somebody's in a mood,” Cassian pants as he narrowly avoids your fist to his jaw, his eyes gleaming as he studies you. “Normally I have to drag you out here to train.”

“You don't have to drag me anywhere,” you fire back, pushing hair out of your eyes. “Just felt like it was time for a tune up of hand to hand.”

“And I get to be the lucky punching bag? I'm honored.” Cassian straightens, and you hate the way he studies you ㅡ the way Mor did, equal parts concern and curiosity. “Are you okaㅡ”

“Cauldron boil me, I said I'm fine!” You know it isn't fair to snap at Cassian, but you've felt off kilter all morning ㅡ since Rhysand had told you of the impending arrival of Eris ㅡ presumably to discuss the ever shifting agreements in the tentative allyship with him. 

Just hearing his name had put you off of your breakfast ㅡ not out of indignant disgust, though you wished it were. Anything but the traitorous lurch of the bond you'd hoped would bury itself and remain forgotten. 

Mate, it whispers, an adder coiled in the back of your mind. Your mate. 

Only if it snapped in place for him too, you remind yourself viciously. Only if you accepted it. 

And you won't. Not now, not ever.

“There you are.”

You force yourself not to freeze, turning slowly to lock eyes with the one person you'd been doing your best to pretend wasn't staying in your home. 

Eris eyes you, and the lazy trace over your legs and back up makes you want to slug him and preen in equal measure, the latter only adding to your mounting irritation. “What do you want, Eris?” 

He huffs, eyes gleaming. “Now, is that any way to talk to a guest?”

Pretentious asshole. Your teeth clench hard enough you think something might pop as you exhale. “My apologies,” you grit out, “how can I help you?” 

Eris’ eyes gleam, and you get the distinct impression that he's laughing at you. Not just at you, but at the shimmering coil in your head that sings in his proximity. 

He approaches and you take one wary step back after the other until your back meets smooth wall ㅡ and Eris is in front of you. He's devastatingly handsome, staring at you with an intensity that makes you want to punch him.

It also makes you want to ㅡ no. No. 

“Back off,” you hiss. 

“Or what?” He's taunting you. “If i were a lesser male, I'd think you'd been avoiding me.” His eyes glitter as he leans in. To anyone who could stumble upon the scene, it'd look…intimate. “But that can't possibly be what you're doing, right?” 

You should hit him. Tell him to fuck off, to get away from you ㅡ to leave entirely. You hate how he eyes you, the simmering song that your veins respond with in kind.

“Come on, little rabbit,” he exhales, voice low and almost a purr. “Where are those teeth you showed me last time?” 

You snarl, hand fisting into his shirt ㅡ and you yank him to meet your lips. It's an aggressive kiss across the board, teeth and tongue as he shoves you further against the wall, and you hate how something in you purrs at the pressure. 

This, at the very least, is horribly familiar. His touch is not unknown on your body, the snake of warm fingers against your sides so eerily similar to the handful of rendezvous so many years ago, a lifetime ago, before ㅡ 

Mate. A bond untethered, unanswered ㅡ and icy water douses the ignition of flame in your lower belly, sours the warm lips against your neck. 

“Get off me,” you rasp, ripping yourself free. “The next time you touch me, I'll cut your hands off.” 

“I want to get drunk.” 

“Hello to you too,” Mor blinks up at you, studying the tension in your shoulders. “Any special occasion or…? I feel like I should intervene if this is going to be a bad idea.” 

“Since when have you turned down a reason to go to Rita's?” 

Mor only frowns at you, then gentles her tone as she sets a hand on your shoulder with a call of your name. “Tell me what's going on,” she murmurs. “You've got us all worried, babe. Talk to me.” 

You debate telling her to forget it, to take it out in the training ring or to simply take a good, long walk along the Sidra ㅡ and then Mor presses gently, “Is it Eris?” 

You tense further, and she looses a curse. “I knew it was a bad idea to have him stay here. If he put his hands on youㅡ” 

“Mor,” you cut in. “It's not…not like that. Not anymore.” One eyebrow raises at the anymore, curious as she watches you. You exhale slowly. “My mating bond snapped into place.” 

Her eyes widen, and you can't stand the sympathy in her eyes ㅡ the idea that you're a star-crossed lover, helplessly in love with someone you aren't Cauldron-bound to. If only ㅡ perhaps you could handle that a little better than being bound to the person you are in love with. 

Who's never shown a hint that the bond has snapped into place for him. Never wanted you for more than the intervals of hands and teeth, murmured filth and promises that'd made your toes curl ㅡ and been all too happy to pretend you didn't exist except for those moments. 

“Oh,” Mor says, and your chest aches. She, of all people, knows how Eris is ㅡ and the way she stares at you makes it worse. “Oh, honey.”

She doesn't coddle you, because there are no tears to shed ㅡ you buried those along with your end of the bond, thrown a shield around it, tried to forget. You had no Prince, no Knight. 

(You'd never been good at being a damsel, anyways.)

You don't know what Mor says to the others, but you don't really care when it lands you at Rita's, snug between Cassian and Azriel and all too happy to drown your woes in the sharp tang of alcohol. 

You don't need coddling or pampering ㅡ you know what you need, and it drives you from the safety of your brothers, joining Mor to chase the pounding thrum of music. 

You're not sure when you end up with an unfamiliar Fae male's hands on you, only that you simply grin and welcome the advance, the simmering promise in his eyes to give you what you need to forget the ache in your chest ㅡ at least for tonight. 

And maybe tomorrow. And perhaps the next ㅡ whatever and however long it took for Eris to leave, to let you bury that bond back down where it belongs. 

It's as his lips are brushing over your neck that he's wrenched away from you and you blink, admonishment on your lips ㅡ and it dies a quiet, quick death at the absolute fury blazing in Eris Vanserra's eyes. Not at you, no ㅡ at the male who'd been touching you.

“Get your rutting hands off of what isn't yours,” he all but snarls, and you watch as the male disappears back into the crowd before Eris is focusing on you. “And you. Come with me. Now.” 

Some of the drowsy edge of alcohol is beginning to wear off, and you blink before your eyes narrow. “No.” 

A muscle in Eris’ jaw jumps. “We need to talk.” 

Defiance ignites in your veins, fueled by alcohol, the ruined distraction (from the very male before you), and the irritation that he won't just leave you alone. 

But maybe this is what you need ㅡ that final nail in the coffin, the claws to finally dig the bond out by the roots and get rid of it once and for all. 

So you grit your teeth, shoving hard against the ache of your chest as you bite out a flat, “Fine.” 

The trip back to the House of Wind is silent, tension rolling off both of you in waves. Eris doesn't so much as look at you, but the set of his jaw says he's still pissed. About what, you don't know ㅡ he's the one who came to crash your little party, acting as though he has a right to you.

He doesn't. The only claim he can say he has is the times he's made you cum on his fingers. You refuse to look at him, to entertain whatever self-righteous game he thinks he deserves to play. 

This is your home, not his. Regardless of how tonight ends, you will not be the one leaving. 

Somehow, be it for better or worse, you end up in your room. Eris surveys it, taking in all the little pieces that make this yours, then turns towards you.

Arms crossed over your chest, you raise an eyebrow. “Well? Talk, or get out. I don't appreciate you ruining my night.”

Anger flares, smoldering as Eris offers a terse, “I don't appreciate you letting other males touch you like that.” 

You scoff. “You don't get to boss me around, Eris,” you hiss. Your voice is sharp. “You make it sound as if you're my mate.” 

Eris’ eyes blaze, the flicker of flame at his fingertips as he snaps back, “Because I am, damn it!” 

You freeze. 

Eris, so much like the wildfire he embodies, keeps going. “I'm trying not to act like some feral animal, but you make it so hard not to when you parade around like that, it makes me want toㅡ” He cuts himself off. 

The silence between you is brittle, cracking under the strain of things unsaid ㅡ and then you break the silence.

“Makes you want to do what, Eris?” A gentle, tentative tug at that bond ㅡ reeling at the presence on the other side, an answer after decades of silence. 

His eyes lock with yours as he steps towards you. This time, you don't take a step back. “It almost makes me want to apologize to everyone who's about to hear you scream my name.”

You don't respond, but you don't have to. The shiver ripples through the bond, the blown quality of Eris’ pupils before he pounces. 

His mouth is hot against yours, demanding in ways both familiar and not as you moan, fingers digging at your hip before you're backed against the wall next to your dresser. Something clatters to the floor, but you can't bring yourself to care about anything but the wedge of Eris’ leg between your own. 

He licks into your mouth, muffling the choked sound as he grinds his thigh up against your core. You shudder at the spark of pleasure that ignites, a reflexive jerk of your hips to chase it as Eris nips at your jaw. 

“Tell me how many others have seen you like this,” he murmurs darkly against your skin, “so I know how many times to make you come so you'll forget anyone but me.”

You want to answer, you truly do ㅡ but he takes your beat of silence as a prompt to tense his thigh, and it wipes your mind blissfully clear of anything but the molten warmth pooling between your legs. 

It should be embarrassing, rutting against his thigh like some desperate animal in heat, but Eris meets every tiny noise that leaves your lips with approving nips of teeth in your skin and the wander of his hands to pull at your clothing until he meets bare skin. 

His fingers work from your hips to your navel, then to your ribs ㅡ and then he's pinching at your nipples, turning them to achingly stiff peaks as you groan and rock your hips harder against his thigh. 

And then he's slipping it away, leaving you to tremble and pant as you watch him. He could leave you like this, desperate and aching ㅡ and his eyes darken in answer before he's backing you against the dresser. More things clatter to the floor, but Eris doesn't give you time to care with the way he lifts you onto the now empty surface.

His mouth is hot against your neck, drifting to your collarbone, then to your chest ㅡ nipping and sucking marks you're sure will bruise ㅡ and then your abdomen, your core clenching around nothing when you realize his intent.

Lacquered wood creaks in protest beneath the hard curl of your hands on the dresser, fighting the urge to dig your hand into Eris’ hair as he takes his sweet time sucking marks into your thighs. “Eris,” you huff, head spinning with heady arousal and the remnants of alcohol, “please.” 

That deceptively soft mouth pauses as he looks up at you, eyes wildfire-bright. “Oh,” he murmurs, “say that again.” 

You blink before there's the barest drag of his tongue against your folds, prompting a sharp gasp and a whine when he doesn't repeat it.

“Come on,” he coaxes, watching you in a way that makes you want to smack him. Your frustration must echo down the bond, because all he does is laugh. “Manners, darling. Manners.” 

You squirm as he nips just shy of where you want him, and you groan. “Please,” you exhale, and Eris smirks.

“Much better.” 

And then his tongue is on you before you can curse at him, lips parting around a moan as he begins to work at your aching core. Your hand finds his hair at the same time that he flicks his tongue over your clit, and the answering groan that you get makes your eyes roll. 

Despite never having had his mouth on you like this before (not for lack of want, truly), Eris seems to know how to get the loudest sounds from you. Your head thumps against the mirror behind you, fingers curled tight in his hair as he works you steadily towards orgasm. 

His eyes don't miss anything, locked on your face and the way it contorts in pleasure, lips parted as you writhe and pant. It feeds his own pleasure, the steady ache of his cock in his pants as he renews his efforts. 

Your orgasm builds like a storm cloud, the ever tightening knot in your lower belly that has you at the mercy of the male between your legs. Eris knows how close you are ㅡ how can he not, with the way your thighs tremble, the steady leak of arousal against his tongue ㅡ and there's no small amount of pride to have you this desperate with just his mouth. 

The knot snaps when Eris digs the tip of his tongue against your swollen bundle of nerves and you arch with a sharp cry. He follows the shudder and jerk of your hips as you come, tongue rolling over your hot, pulsing core to swallow everything you have to offer. 

You whine as he works you through your orgasm until you're pulling him away, panting as he presses damp kisses to your thigh. “I certainly hope I haven't worn you out already,” he murmurs, and your breath hitches as warmth simmers between your legs again. 

Part of you wants to tell him that this is nowhere near the kind of talking the two of you need to do, to discuss the bond, to decide if you accept it or not. But you're shoving at him, single minded intent in the way you back him against the wall and sink to your knees.

If Eris is surprised at the way you shove at him, he hides it well, dark eyes tracking as you as you thumb at his hip bones, popping the button of his pants and tugging ㅡ leaving him bare before you. And then your mouth is on him, and it's hard to think about anything at all. 

There's pride to be had in watching his face contort with pleasure as you lick precum from his tip, sliding your tongue against the underside and feeling him throb in answer before you take him into your mouth. 

Eris groans as you envelop him in the wet warmth of your mouth, the deliberate press of your tongue against the underside of his shaft as you suck. 

“Fuck,” Eris swears, voice rough and hips jerking with a hiss when you hum around him. You can feel him throbbing, the steady leak of precum that slides down your throat as you swallow. 

His hand finds your hair, an echo of your own just moments ago and you let him guide you along his length. His chest rises and falls unsteadily, the glisten of sweat at his neck and chest, the soft grunt that leaves his throat when you suck harder. 

You watch his head hit the wall with a muffled thump as you curl your tongue against his underside, hips jerking once, twice ㅡ and then he's spilling down your throat with a groan that borders on obscene. 

You swallow before you pull back, and Eris pants as you bring a hand up to wipe at your lips. He watches you, tracking the way you slide your finger into your mouth to clean it ㅡ and then he's yanking you up, pinning you against the wall once more to kiss you.

It's an all encompassing kiss, sounds muffled as he presses into you hard enough that you can feel the stir of his cock against the apex of your thigh.  

“Eris,” you gasp against his mouth. “Eris, stop.”

He pulls away, eyes on yours ㅡ and the flicker of genuine concern makes your chest ache. “We need to talk,” you say, as if you aren't both in varied states of undress ㅡ or your mouth wasn't around his cock just a moment ago. “Actually talk.” 

You almost expect him to ignore you, to press for this ㅡ but his expression sobers, and it almost hurts to watch that desire for you snuff out like candlelight. “Okay.” 

Part of you wonders if Mor and the others are home yet, or if they'd heard the two of you ㅡ and wisely decided to make themselves scarce, because the house is as quiet as it's ever been.

Eris still looks far more composed than you feel, and you take a steadying breath as you wrap your fingers around the comforting warmth of the mug of tea before you. “...How long have you known?” 

You don't have to clarify, the gentle tug on the bond that's answered in kind on the other. “A while,” Eris answers, and it hurts that he seems focused on anything but you as he exhales. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you to stay last time you were in Autumn Court.” 

Something dangerously soft unfurls in your chest, renders you mute as you study the curl of steam from your mug. You could have.

Eris’ eyes flick to you, then away. We both know that isn't true.

He's right. You never would have, and he would never have asked ㅡ you love Velaris, you love your family too much to ever stray too far. Perhaps that was also why you'd spent so long shoving the mating bond down, pretending it didn't exist ㅡ so that if it did snap in place for Eris, you wouldn't have to confront what you are now.

All you can feel is the ache, echoed in tandem, the way you almost wish that it wasn't there at all ㅡ and you recoil from the hurt on his end. He exhales. “Do you really…”

You curl in on yourself. “No,” you mumble, “I just ㅡ I'm terrified, Eris. We both know what we won't give up, and I don't…I don't know how we're expecting this to work.”

Eris is silent for several long moments before he moves, and there's the press of warm fingers against your jaw, coaxing you to look up ㅡ and then he's kissing you.

It's sweet, gentle ㅡ and it only makes you hurt worse as he pulls away to kiss the corner of your mouth, then your forehead. “We'll figure it out.” 

ㅡ

When I said we'd figure it out, this is not what I thought we'd be doing. 

You can feel his annoyance, the flare of it at your answering amusement. It's what's working right now. 

So you say. He falls silent, and you resume tying your leathers. What exactly are you up to, anyways? 

Training. You finish, making sure that they're in place properly before you exit your room. 

Such a shame I'm not there to admire you. 

Your heart, the stupid thing, gives a soft flutter that you know Eris is undoubtedly aware of. More like distract me.

Would that be so bad? You roll your eyes, shaking your head. You're the one who's holding out on me, love. Don't think I've forgotten.

That you haven't technically accepted the bond, that you'd instead offered what the two of you have been doing for the last few weeks since Eris returned to Autumn Court. Which was, in truth, perhaps, a coward's way out. 

Because for all your jabs and steady ebb and flow through the bond, you're still terrified. That though the Cauldron had given you him, he could still be taken away. 

There's the distinct feeling of warm fingers against your mind, stroking ㅡ trying to settle you. I've waited this long for you, you know.

Sunlight warms your skin. I bet I have you beat in terms of waiting. 

We'll see about that.

“There you are,” Cassian calls as you approach. “Thought I was going to have to drag your lazy ass out of bed.”

“As if,” you snap back, but you're grinning as you stretch. Cassian smirks, eyes gleaming ㅡ relieved that you're back to normal, if not perhaps a little cheerier than you have been in a while. 

No doubt in large part to me, right? You almost drop your practice dagger, rolling your eyes as you square off in front of Cassian. 

Not everything has to involve you, you answer, knowing that the barb isn't anywhere near as vicious as it could be. 

But it could, Eris answers. As I said, such a shame I'm not there to admire you. He pauses. Shall I tell you? Or let you imagine on your own?

Your movement stutters for a second as you swing too wide, rolling backwards to avoid Cassian's own lunge at you. I'm busy. 

So you're not imagining my head between your legs again? He sounds all too pleased with himself, with the way you fall silent ㅡ abruptly thinking of that exact thing, much to his amusement. Because I am. You're so cruel, not allowing me the pleasure of fucking you with my tongue again.

You block a blow meant for your middle, swinging your leg out. Sweat drips down your temple, the familiar ache of your body that sparring always gives you ㅡ and more, the curl of warmth at Eris’ words. 

Or maybe I should have let you finish on my thigh first. You certainly were eager. Your breath stutters. Or perhaps my fingers next? I wonder how many you can take. Last time it was two, yes? Should we try for a third? He pauses, ever the satisfied fox for how your end of the bond goes silent still. Or perhaps you'd prefer my coㅡ 

Eris. He's laughing at you now, amusement echoing even as you throw up the barrier, blocking him out. 

Across from you, Cassian eyes you. He's aware of that far-away look, the snap to clarity once more before your eyes narrow on him. “Don't,” you intone in warning, and he grins.

“What? I didn't say anything.” He straightens, dusting off one of his bracers, the gleam of the siphons in mid-day sun before he approaches to clap you on the shoulder. “I'd pay to watch you shut him up in person, though.” 

“That,” you murmur, “could probably be arranged.”

ㅡ

To be fair, you don't bake a lot. And it'd taken an inordinate amount of courage to ask Elain to help you, the soft, knowing look she'd shot you that'd made your cheeks color. 

But she'd helped you knead dough, rolling it out and crimping it into place so that now you had a pie. 

A pie that mocks you with the simplicity of it, the last minute effort of adding coarse sugar to the top so that it glitters like the frozen crests of the mountains. Simple ㅡ perhaps too simple. 

Nothing like the elaborate things you've seen in windows of bakeries, in glossy magazines ㅡ you've never been good at that. Decent yes, but never so to recreate anything so elaborate.

You groan, pillowing your head into your arms ㅡ only to lift it a moment later at the crisp, Autumnal scent that invades your senses. As if you'd need even that ㅡ there's the familiar tug at the bond that has you watching as Eris strolls through the door. 

You don't leap into his arms. You don't even tackle him ㅡ but there is a swiftness to your gait that has you against him in a heartbeat, face tucked into his neck. 

“Well,” he murmurs, “was my presence missed that badly?”

“Shut up,” you huff, but there's no venom ㅡ not when the knotted tension in your chest is easing, made quicker for the arms that wind around you, tucking you tighter against him. 

“Here I thought you'd be so glad to have me back,” Eris sighs in mock-lament. “Your beloved mate had to find a believable enough excuse as to why I had to come here. Don't you think that deserves a kiss?”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, even as the little bit of truth to your situation sinks home. Autumn Court is beautiful ㅡ but there's good reasons as to why Eris doesn't want you there more than absolutely necessary. Reasons that you forcefully shut out, instead studying his face ㅡ just as he spots the pie.

“What,” he murmurs, “is that?”

Your cheeks warm, even as you scoff. “A pie.” 

“Obviously,” Eris says, arm still slung around your waist. “But where did it come from?”

You study the wood paneling, the carefully detailed artwork from Feyre when she'd stayed here. The cabin isn't often used ㅡ and when you'd asked for usage of it, Rhysand had the audacity to smirk at you. Eris prompts you with a call of your name, and you almost contemplate winnowing and trying again later. 

“Me,” you answer finally. “I made it. For you.” 

Eris freezes against you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you before there are warm fingers on your chin, coaxing you to look at him ㅡ the only warning that you get before he's kissing you. 

You can feel the grip he has at your waist as he backs you until you meet the counter, your noise of surprise muffled by his mouth. “Eris,” you manage when he pulls away for a moment, “I worked hard on that pieㅡ” 

“And I'll happily eat it,” he huffs against your neck, voice low and rough as he lifts you onto the counter, slotting himself between your legs. “I'm busy right now.” 

You want to protest, but his teeth are bruising over your pulse, making you shudder and lean away, giving him more room to work. It earns you a low growl of approval as he busies himself with sucking marks into the column of your throat. 

One hand curls against his shoulder as the other slides into his hair, earning a groan when your nails curl against his scalp. Warm fingers slide up beneath your shirt to yank it upwards, contact of his mouth broken long enough to toss your shirt somewhere else ㅡ and then he's mouthing at your chest, tongue sliding over one achingly stiff nipple and then the other.

“Eris,” you exhale, “godㅡ” 

He nips sharply at the underside of your breast. “There are no gods here, love. Only me, and I don't share.” 

It's spoken in the tone you know is that primal edge of the bond, the innate need to take you ㅡ that'll have him near feral for days if another male so much as looks at you. It thrums in your veins, feeding your need to answer in kind as he grinds down against you, hard pressure against your core making your eyes flutter. 

And then he's pulling away to tug at your pants, kissing his way down one leg and then the other ㅡ and then that sinful mouth is on your core, just as he'd promised. The roll of his tongue has you moaning, hand in his hair to keep him from pulling away ㅡ even though you know he won't. 

You have no doubts that you're absolutely soaking as he presses into you like a man starved, keeping your legs parted as he fucks you with his tongue. Your back arches as he sucks at your clit, the sharp, broken cry that makes him smirk against your aching core. 

Your orgasm is looming, brought ever closer by every curl and roll of Eris’ tongue as you pant and writhe, fingers of the hand not occupied in his hair scrabbles for purchase against the counter beneath you.

As he'd done weeks ago, Eris works you through your orgasm as it washes over you like a thunderclap, letting up only once your noises have been reduced to whimpers and you're tugging at his hair.

Warm, damp kisses trail up your abdomen to your chest before Eris kisses you, and you moan at both the taste of yourself on his tongue and the fingers that he slides into you. 

You're slick enough that the slip of them is easy, and Eris groans at the way you tighten around him as he works you open. The stretch of his fingers has you keening and arching into him as his thumb finds your clit. 

“I told you,” he murmurs, “how I intended to admire you. But you making all of these infernal noisesㅡ” He curls his fingers and you keen, hips jerking against his hand. “And it makes it hard to stay focused.” 

You wish you could answer, you really do ㅡ but the way he's working you towards a second orgasm has robbed you of any eloquence beyond shuddering gasps and hiccuped moans. 

“My pretty mate,” Eris groans into your neck. He can feel the way you tighten as your orgasm nears, the lewd sound of his fingers as they thrust in and out of you. His cock throbs in his pants, and it's self-control alone that keeps him from spilling into his pants as you soak his hand as you come for the second time, making such pretty noises that Eris swears it's all he wants to hear for the rest of his immortal life.

He finally has the courtesy to lift you off of the counter, a slick mess left behind that he entertains the idea of making you clean up later with a hand in your hair and his cock in you as he takes you from behind ㅡ and the answering flare of arousal from you almost makes him want to do it now. 

But it's the soft plush of a bed that meets your bare back, legs parted to welcome the settle of Eris between them ㅡ deliciously bare, erection just shy of where you want him.

And despite the two orgasms he's coaxed from you, you have no qualms in telling him as you rock your hips up, head tipping back against the bed. “Fuck me properly, Eris.”

He raises an eyebrow, a Cauldron-sent menace as he tongues at the marks he's left on you, strawberry blossoms he's made sure will get the point across. “Ask nicely, love.”

You huff, then knock your leg against his hip, rolling so that you're straddling him now, hands planted against his chest. “You need to put that mouth to better use than pissing me off.”

“I already did,” Eris answers, cocky gleam to his eyes that makes you roll your own before he's hissing as you take him into your hand, guiding him to your slick entrance before you sink down.

“Being my mate doesn't excuse you annoying me,” you say, tone shaky for the way pleasure spiderwebs at the stretch of him inside you, the golden whisper of finally, finally, finally.

Eris’ expression is also taut as you clench around him before he offers a rough, “Say it again.” 

You stare down at him, aware of the way his pupils have blown so far you can't tell the color of his eyes anymore, the steady throb of his cock inside you. You don't have to ask what he wants you to say.

 You stretch over him, the slow roll of your hips that has him gripping at you even as your lips meet the delicate arch of his ear and you offer a breathy sigh. “My mate.” 

Eris snaps. You can't even yelp as you're flipped back into the sheets, moan leaving your hips as he bucks into you. The pace is aggressive enough that the bed creaks in protest beneath you, but you can't bring yourself to care. 

Nothing matters beyond the hard thrust of him inside you, tip knocking against that spot inside you that has you making sounds that'd put a pleasure-hall to shame. Your fingers curl against his back, rewarded with a groan that makes you tighten around him further as his hips roll steadily against yours. 

“Mine,” Eris huffs against your hair, then your temple, then your neck, the graze of his teeth making you shudder and arch into him. “Mine.”

Yours,” you gasp, choked cry ripped from you at the sink of his teeth against your skin.

One hand anchors him over you as the other skims over your breasts and down your abdomen to rub tight circles into your swollen clit. The contact makes you keen, and Eris huffs a rough laugh as you clench around him.

“Gonna come already, love?” You offer something that might be words, garbled and incoherent for the way pleasure is overloading your brain. It amuses Eris further as he watches your expression contort, the part of those pretty, kiss-swollen lips of yours as you mewl and moan.

“Two orgasms and still so needy…” He offers a playful click of his tongue. “Insatiable.”

As if he's faring better given that he's opted to simply grind his pelvis against yours now, intent on staving off his own orgasm for as long as he can in order to continue tormenting you with the pleasurable sink of his cock inside you. 

“Want you to come in me,” you rasp, a moment of clarity that makes Eris freeze above you for all of ten seconds ㅡ and then he's moving again, groaning as he fucks into you with renewed vigor.

“My pretty mate wants me to fill her up, huh?” He goads, slick fingers pinching at your nipple and tugging until you're crying out. “Want me to fuck you full of my seed? Go ahead and put a baby in you so everyone knows who you belong to?”

You don't get to respond because you're cumming hard, clamped hard around him as he manages one, two, three unsteady thrusts before Eris is pushing as deep into you as he can and groaning your name into your neck as he spills into you. The warmth of it makes you almost squeal, arching into him before he's settling over you, sweat slick-skin and a heartbeat to match yours. 

The next several moments are silent save for heavy breathing and the soft noise Eris makes as you drift your hand up and down his back. 

“Worth the wait?” Eris asks at last, and you pretend to think long enough that Eris pinches at your side in protest. “If you don't answer me, I'll just have to keep outdoing myself until you say otherwise.” 

“Is that so bad?” You challenge, and you can feel the twitch of him inside you, the way he's stiffening as his eyes flash.

“No,” he growls, “not at all.”

#ㅡmine. #acotar x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #acotar smut

[maesonc-artistic-adventures]

I’ve been wanting to redraw this scene from The Inner Warrior by @bokettochild b/c I wanted to try a more BotW/ToTK look for Warrior’s dragon form. Let me know what you think!

Excerpt from the fic:

“Legend lifts a hand, waving slightly at the others. They start at the sight of him, curled against the dragon, head resting against its chest, and Warriors can see their eyes flicker to him, to the vet, back and forth and wondering. It's Four who eases first, stepping in close and looking up at him, curiosity rather than fear in his eyes.

“Made a friend?”

“Found an old one more like,” Legend drawls, smile off kilter as it tends to be, buck teeth showing just barely.”

#my art #artist of tumblr #tumblr artist #fanart #fanart of fanfiction #because it’s still one of my faves #sketchbook #colored pencils #lu fanart #linked universe #lu warriors #lu four #lu legend #linked universe fanart #lu the chain #sorry for the redraw #the original was bugging me and I ve been itching to redraw it for a while #redraw #doodles #fancomic #kinda #lu fancomic #it’s got panels some I’m counting it #hope y’all are having a good week

[ichorai]

amsterdam ; jacaerys velaryon. (m)

track two of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; jacaerys velaryon x arryn!f!reader

synopsis ; prince jacaerys velaryon traveled to the eyrie to secure aid for his mother's cause. he didn't at all expect to fall in love an arryn while he was there.

words ; 4.7k

themes ; fluff, smut (minors dni!), fantasy

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), jace is very much infatuated with you (expect lots of praise !!), reader is the only child of jeyne arryn of the vale, mentions of daemon and rhaenyra, in this fic jace is over eighteen when he goes to the eyrie !! cursing, mentions of death, vermax is grumpy bcs he has to sit outside in the cold someone save him

main masterlist.

The Eyrie stood tall and proud on the very top of rocky mountains—so high that white wisps of clouds could be seen far below where the castle was situated. Jacaerys unmounted his dragon, placing a reassuring hand on the large, olive-green scales of his snout. 

“Kesan sagon arlī. Umbagon,” he murmured to Vermax, who huffed out a plume of warm smoke and settled back on his haunches, clearly unhappy with the prospect of waiting around in the cold. I will be back. Stay.

Blowing out a nervous exhale, Jace squared his shoulders and turned on his heel, making his way into the white-stone castle. 

Blue-cloaked guards stood in his way of the wooden entrance, faces stony and hands resting on the hilts of their swords, at the ready. 

“I am Jacaerys Velaryon, son of the rightful Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. I’ve come to urgently speak to Lady Jeyne Arryn to secure aid for my mother’s cause.” His voice rang clear and true, confident despite his inner turmoil.

The guards glanced at each other, before stepping aside, letting him walk through. 

“This way, my Prince,” one of them said, guiding him through winding corridors and eventually, down a long hall. The blue-veined, marble walls shone with polish—so much so that Jacaerys could see his own warped reflection looking back at him. 

And at the end of the hall, laid two thrones of weirwood—nothing compared to the hunkering mass that was the iron throne, but still grand nonetheless. Seated on one was the Lady of the Eyrie, Jeyne Arryn, with a head of dark locks like his, and soft features that contrasted starkly with the scowl pulling at her lips. 

The lady was facing her side, where she was speaking in hushed whispers to her only daughter—Y/N Arryn, the infamous Jewel of the Eyrie. 

Jace could feel his heart stumble upon itself when he laid his eyes on you. Suddenly, your name made sense. Sure, he had heard tales of your regaling beauty and your kind nature, but words alone were not enough to fully encapsulate just how breathtaking you really were. 

The sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows bathed you in a warm glow, casting long, sloping shadows over your skin. Draped over your form was a dress of cerulean hue, cascading down your hips as if it were water. Jace considered himself a gentleman—he had to take care not to let his eyes wander to the low-hanging cut of your neckline, where the very beginnings of your cleavage were exposed, and a glinting pearl necklace hung just above your clavicle. Your hair was cut rather short, nearly as short as his, but framed your face just perfectly. Your lips were moving hurriedly as you spoke to your mother, eyes alight with a certain fire, but Jace couldn’t quite catch what you were saying. The stories not only told of your enchanting beauty, but of your strongly overprotective mother, who always turned away any and all suitors for you. And proposals were never short, from what he heard. Jacaerys felt a strange flame of jealousy brew within his stomach. 

“Apologies for the interruption, my lady,” announced the guard. “Jacaerys Velaryon, here to speak with you.”

Upon the abrupt announcement, you promptly clamped your mouth shut, looking over to Jace with a scrutinizing, yet curious gaze, meeting the Prince’s own intrigued eyes. 

His throat was suddenly dry. It took everything within him to tear his attention away from you, and look towards your mother.

“My lady,” greeted Jacaerys, fists clenching and unclenching behind his back. “I’ve come on behalf of my mother, the Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. She kindly asks you to remember that she is part Arryn herself, as you are half-siblings with the late Queen Aemma, and hopes you will support your cousin’s claim to the throne.”

Recognition sparked within the Lady’s eyes, remembering her half-sister, Aemma. From beside her, you subconsciously straightened yourself as he spoke, lips parting out of interest. This was Prince Jacaerys himself—heir to the throne. Jace gradually shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling your gaze practically burn holes straight through him. You couldn’t help but notice that he was quite the handsome young man, with a head of thick, dark hair, and hard-set, determined eyes. He spoke evenly and calmly, voice soaked with honey and smoked cedar and ocean salt. The Prince looked to be around the same age as you, give or take a few moons. And as Jacaerys had heard much about you, you knew just as much about him—and now that you were seeing him in person… the stories seemed to prove themself true. He didn’t look one bit Targaryen or Valeryon, but rather resembled the bold, physical characteristics of a Strong. 

Either way, bastard or not, Jacaerys Velaryon intrigued you.

The argument you’d just had with your mother about traveling to King’s Landing and seeing the world for yourself was still fresh on your mind, and seeing Jace right here in front of you felt like much more than a coincidence.

“Yes,” your mother said, standing up from the throne to step closer to the Prince. “I do remember the rather twisted history of our families. In fact, I seem to recall your great-uncle Daemon was married to Rhea Royce until her… untimely death.”

The Lady of the Eyrie was plainly hinting at the fact that his stepfather murdered his first wife. Jace steeled himself by blowing out a small breath. 

“It was truly unfortunate,” said Jace diplomatically. 

The woman narrowed her eyes, eerily similar to your expression. “Despite my contempt for your great-uncle, it would be hypocritical of me to say Targaryen men are the root of the problem. Mine own kin have sought to replace me as Ruler of the Vale thrice by now. My cousin, Ser Arnold, oft claims women are too soft to rule. He is currently in one of my sky cells, if you would like to see.”

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably. He’d heard little of the sky cells—only that the room bore three walls instead of four, leaving an open gap for anybody to plummet to their grueling death. And knowing how high up the castles were built, there would be no chance for survival. The grounds were sloped and it was not uncommon for prisoners to roll off the edge during their sleep. 

“Mother,” you spoke for the first time, making his head snap to you. You watched him sympathetically, an apologetic glint to your eyes, voice smoothly soft but tone firm. “I am sure the Prince has much more important matters to attend to than my bumbling fool of an uncle.”

Jeyne nodded at your words. “Yes… of course. We’ll help you fight your war, Prince Jacaerys. Send word to your mother that we support her cause and will supply her with as many soldiers as she needs—in this world of men, we women must band together.”

Relief flooded through Jace’s veins. Momentarily, he caught your eye and dipped his head in gratitude. 

“On one condition,” said the Lady of the Eyrie, holding up a hand. “We will send you support if and only if you swear to protect the Vale from the Greens with dragonriders.”

Irrational hope flared within Jacaerys’ chest—the thought of being able to spend more time in the Vale just to see you a bit more made him rather excited. Though, knowing his mother, he would most likely be stuck by her side as heir to the throne than up North protecting the Vale. 

“That can be arranged,” agreed Jacaerys. “We swear to protect the Vale and the people within it.”

“Then our deal is done,” said your mother, before lowering herself slightly, as an act of bending the knee to the Prince. You followed suit, meeting his gaze once again, this time with a subtle, radiant smile cinching the corners of your eyes. The guards flanking the hall were the last to mirror your actions, all bending the knee to the heir of the iron throne.

Jacaerys was making his way out of the hall, surprised when you bid your mother adieu and rushed after the Prince, much to her overprotective dismay, offering to walk with him to his dragon. You waved the guards away, but they still hovered over the pair of you with uncertain expressions.

“It’s just a brief walk,” you reasoned. “I’ll be fine.”

Relenting, the guards backed off and left you alone with the Prince. 

“Come along, my Prince, I can show you the way out,” you gently laid your hand on his forearm, tugging him with you further down the hall. The young man could feel his heart slamming against his chest, a thundering pulse in his ears nearly deafening him. 

Now that you were so much closer to him—mere inches—Jace could see finer details about you, and impossibly, you somehow became all the more beautiful. The blue fabric of your dress grazed his more coarse tunic. 

“There is much I have heard of you, my Prince,” you began, a kind smile illuminating your features. “I must say, I admire your Queen mother greatly.”

“Jace,” he softly said.

You blinked at him. “Pardon?”

Tripping over his words, Jace quickly backtracked, “I, uh, you don’t have to call me your Prince. Jace is just fine.” A bit more hesitantly, he tacked on, “I’m not quite used to the title just yet. It feels strange.”

A part of him was worried you’d be appalled at the impropriety of calling him by a nickname, but you merely grinned, all wide and sweet. 

“Alright then, Jace. Have you anywhere urgent to be? The hour is growing late—perhaps you can stay for supper. You cannot possibly run more errands on an empty stomach.”

You leaned closer and he caught a whiff of saccharine fruits and jasmine oil wafting from your hair, a smell that he yearned to drown himself into. It also didn’t slip past his notice that your chest was pressed up against his bicep. Good heavens, Jacaerys needed to get a grip of himself. 

Ever the responsible son, Jacaerys knew he had to be on his way to the Three Sisters, a small cluster of islands up North, to gain their support for his mother, as well. But he was ahead of schedule, and he deserved something of a rest after hours on dragonback. After all, he’d packed little else than fruit and bread and dried meat rations—the idea of a warm meal was more than appealing. 

Perhaps those were all just excuses. The true reason he wanted to stay was because he wanted to spend more time with you. 

“Wouldn’t your mother mind?” he asked, a little apprehensive, not wanting to get in between you and the overprotective Lady of the Eyrie. She already had a distaste for Targaryen men, thanks to his stepfather Daemon, and he wasn’t too keen on being added to the roster.

Expression faltering just a smidge, you shook your head. “No, she’s so very busy running the Vale—warding off her cousins who are fighting for their claim to inherit the Eyrie. It’s a whole lot of political nonsense, if you ask me.”

Hesitantly convinced, Jace allowed himself to smile in hopes of seeing your own once more. “If you insist, my lady. Supper sounds wonderful.”

To his delight, you beamed, and led him to a winding marble staircase, flourished with blue carpets that matched your dress. “Great! The morning hall is right up here—it’s rather quiet around this time, since it’s a bit early for supper.”

“Perfect,” mumbled Jace, the idea of being alone with you setting his cheeks aflame. 

Once in the hall, you kindly requested one of the servants to fetch a bowl of lamb stew and some cider for the Prince, gesturing for him to sit on one of the narrow, long tables that stretched nearly the entire length of the room. 

You engaged Jace in amicable chatter, which he seldom got to do with anybody that wasn’t his family—everyone either hated him because of his uncanny resemblance to Harwin Strong, or they were intimidated by his status as heir to the throne. It was refreshing, and frankly, made Jacaerys a little envious of those without the burden of responsibility on their shoulders.

The stew arrived not too shortly after, along with a silver chalice full of spiced apple cider that burned his tongue in all the right ways. You sipped on your own cup, nearly choking with laughter when he began recounting a story about his younger brother, Lucerys, nearly falling off his dragon during his first ride. Jace thought you had the most mellifluous laugh, practically music to his ears. He itched to hear the sweet sound over and over again.

“I wish I had siblings sometimes,” you wistfully said, placing your chalice down on the table and resting your face on your palm, propped up by your elbow. “It gets awfully lonely here. My mother, I love her, I do, but she never really lets me go out of the Vale. The only times were when I was a small child, and even then I was accompanied by half a dozen guards.”

Jace hummed sympathetically, spooning more of the peppery stew in his mouth. “So it’s true, then? Your mother constantly rejecting all the suitors and proposals lined up on your doorstep?”

“Yeah,” you fixed him with a warm smile. “Though, I suppose it’s not that much of a loss. Most of the men asking for my hand were more than twice my age and always looked upon me in a… lewd manner. It’s no wonder my mother turned all of them down.”

Without thinking, Jace blurted out, “You deserve to wed someone you love. A man who loves you doubly so.”

You fell silent, regarding him curiously. Maybe Jace didn’t know any better, but you appeared to be flustered. Clearing your throat, you said, “Thank you, my pr—Jace. Besides, the proposals aren’t really what bother me. It’s the fact that I stand to inherit the Eyrie and I have yet to explore the rest of the world. I’m afraid that once I am Lady of the Vale, I won't have any time for myself.”

“I have a dragon,” said Jace, in a half-joking, half-serious manner. “I can take you flying around Westeros one day, when the war is over.”

“You mean it?” you whispered, a genuine glimmer of excitement laced behind your words. Jace nodded, his heart leaping into his throat with the motion. “That would mean the world to me, it really would.”

The two of you fell into another comfortable silence. You downed the rest of your cider and he mopped up the remaining bits of his stew with a steaming loaf of bread. 

“I have yet to find a suitor to my liking,” you said, pursing your lips hesitantly. Jace gestured for you to keep talking, drinking some of the cider to wash down his meal. “And I’ve heard you’re betrothed now, yes?”

At the mention of his betrothal to his cousin Baela, Jacaerys stiffened. 

He leaned forward. “Can I be completely honest with you? And you must promise not to say a word of this to anyone.”

You nodded, eyes wide. 

“I do not wish to marry Baela,” he whispered, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. Your lips parted, as if you wanted to say something, but you kept quiet, allowing for him to continue. “The romantic love I harbor for her is scant—she is more of my sister than anything. I cannot see myself ever… consummating our marriage.” Heat seeped into his cheeks, and a part of him instantly regretted admitting that to you. 

“Perhaps you need not marry her, then,” you responded without a second’s pause, before freezing at your words, as if they had slipped from your mouth out of your own volition. “I’m terribly sorry, my Prince, I shouldn’t have…” 

Whatever you were beginning to say died on your tongue when Jace moved his hand across the table to settle gently on top of yours. 

The atmosphere between the two of you seemed to shift. 

Jace studied your features with a keen eye, noticing the bright glint to your molten irises, the gentle curvature of your nose, the small birthmark on the left side of your jaw. And, not at all discreetly, his gaze fell to your lips, where your teeth were worrying into the supple flesh. His own expression melded into one of raw longing—nearing desperation, even.

And you could see it all on his face, plain and clear. Jacaerys Velaryon was enraptured by you. 

It was not at all like how the suitors asked for your hand—they looked upon you like a direwolf would a slab of meat, as if you were merely an object for their carnal desires, as if you were to warm their bed and nothing else. 

Jacaerys, however, looked upon you like you had scattered the very stars in the sky with your bare hands. And you had no doubt you mirrored his yearning countenance.

“Come with me,” you whispered, standing up and lacing your fingers with his, tugging him away from the table, and out of the morning hall. 

With a dazed look on his face, Jace followed along, allowing you to pull him towards more stairs. Up, up, and further up, the two of you went.

Until he stood in front of a large oaken door, your free hand pushing it open and the other ushering him inside the spacious room. The waning, clementine light of the setting sun shone through the diamond-shaped windows, framed by blue velvet curtains, bathing you in a regal, aureate luminescence as you softly shut the door behind you and leaned against the wood, fixing him with a burning stare. Your lips were parted, and your chest was rising and falling in a tantalizing manner. 

The cold realization that he was in your chambers suddenly dawned upon him. Seven hells, this was… beyond improper. Reality slapped Jacaerys out of his lustful stupor, and he struggled to formulate a coherent sentence.

“My lady,” he began, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “This is… we shouldn’t—”

His words dwindled away when you reached behind yourself and began undoing the laces of your dress. Despite his protests, Jace made no move to leave. He could feel his breeches growing uncomfortably tight. It felt like there was not enough air in the room for him to breathe.

“I… I should probably get going, Vermax—my dragon loathes the cold, you see…” he tried once more, to no avail.

The blue material fell from your shoulders, cascading down your body and pooled onto the ground in one seamless motion, leaving only a thin pale shift between him and your naked body. He fell deathly silent. 

You were the most beautiful person Jacaerys had ever laid his eyes on. No woman, no man, nobody in all of Westeros, could ever compare to the likes of you.

Throwing all caution to the wind, the Prince surged forward in two large strides, sealing the distance between you. One of his hands carefully cradled your face as if you were hewn from porcelain, and the other clutched your waist, thumb grazing over the sides of your ribs, dangerously close to your breasts.

And his lips met yours in a heated frenzy, your noses bumping against one another amidst your vigor.

“Should you wish to stop, just say the word, my lady,” he murmured against you, tugging you away from the door and walking you backwards to the large bed. 

Your knees buckled against the mattress and you fell back, eyes darkened with wanton need. Your fingers began hurriedly undoing the buttons at the top of his tunic. “Don’t stop, please,” you breathed out just as he began languidly kissing you once again. “Don’t you dare stop.”

A newfound confidence fueled his movements with your affirmation, and he rid himself of his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him, along with his straining breeches and undergarments. You let your eyes roam over his toned chest, lids half-hooded.

“You’re so beautiful,” you told him, following suit and shirking your thin shift off, leaving you completely nude in front of the Prince, save for the opalescent pearls hanging around your neck. 

His breath hitched at your praise. “I was just about to say the same thing,” he muttered hotly against your flushed skin, trailing kisses down your jaw, roaming over the slope of your neck, your shoulders, your chest. “Beautiful,” he said, echoing himself with every kiss. You fisted the sheets beneath you, desperate for him to touch you where it ached the most.

A wave of arousal danced over you when he came face to face with your breasts, his tongue slipping out to drag along one of your pebbled nipples, his hand lifting to tweak the other between his fingers. His lips enveloped one of the pert buds, and he glanced up to see you with your head thrown back, a sigh of pleasure falling from your throat.

“Jacaerys, please…” you moaned, breathing stilted. 

Eager to please, Jace pulled away from your breast, trailing wet kisses down your stomach, along your hips, and to the insides of your thighs. His hands held your legs apart, which trembled with anticipation and need. 

His cock twitched against the bed upon seeing your slickened cunt, soaked with your essence.

“All this for me?” he hummed, laving his tongue mere inches away from where you needed him most.

“All for you,” you said, a low groan tumbling from your lungs when he finally surged forward and buried his face into your cunt, licking into your warm hole, the crook of his nose pressing repeatedly into your spasming clit. 

Embarrassed by your volume, you slapped your hands over your mouth, muffling your breathless whines.

Obviously not pleased with this, Jacaerys looked up at you with a stern look, halting his ministrations. “Let me hear you, my lady. I want to hear you.”

Hands quaking, you let them fall away from your lips, clenching into fists by your sides. Jacaerys smiled at you, the lower half of his face gleaming with your arousal. Then, he lowered himself back down and abruptly attached his lips to your sensitive clit, making your hips jolt upwards with the sudden rush of pleasure. 

“Jace!” you wailed, grinding your cunt against his mouth. He hummed in approval, clearly getting off on your own pleasure. Two of his fingers circled your entrance, and he slowly pushed them into you, cracking one of his eyes open to observe your breathless, writhing figure. 

He continued his ministrations, fucking you with his fingers and sucking relentlessly on your clit until you seized up beneath him, a litany of pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. 

“That’s it, cum for me. My good girl,” he praised, moaning into your cunt as you did what you were told, grinding against his face as you came down from your high, until you began to flinch away with overstimulation. Jace wished to have you ride his face, use him as the dragon he was, be completely at your mercy… but he was desperate to feel your cunt around him.

Jacaerys made his way back up your body, kissing you once more. You could taste yourself on him, which made you dizzy with delight.

“I need you, Jace,” you mumbled, wrapping your legs over his waist, your hot, soaked pussy pressed against his abdomen. “I need you inside me.”

“As you wish, my lady,” he whispered with one final kiss, ever the gentleman. “Tell me if it’s too much. I wish not to hurt you.” 

Lining himself with your still-sensitive entrance, he began to slowly ease his way in, keenly watching your expression to make sure he wasn’t paining you in any way.

“So good,” you mumbled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Feels so good, Jace.”

“Beautiful girl,” the Prince groaned once he bottomed out inside your warmth, eyes rolling into the back of his head from the overwhelming sensation of your sopping cunt fluttering around his cock. 

He started off gentle, slowly rocking into you, eyes darting between your blissful features, and your breasts bouncing with every thrust. 

You began to move in tandem with him, wanton moans echoing throughout your chambers when he reached down to rub slow circles on your clit. 

The slapping of his skin on yours made a flustered expression burrow itself permanently on his face, dusting his skin with faint rouge. You felt so fucking good, nearly too good to be true, and Jacaerys wouldn’t at all be surprised if he woke up and you turned out to be a dream. 

Your name tumbled from his lips in rapid repetition as he could feel his orgasm approaching, rhythm faltering when you clenched viciously around him. He met your eyes, leaning down to kiss you sweet and slow. “Can you cum for me again, sweet girl?” he murmured, a satisfied growl thundering in the back of his throat.

Shivering, one of your hands raked down his back desperately, on the very precipice of your climax. You came with a shout of his name, stars blotting out your vision, clenching so tightly around him that Jace had a hard time moving, which had him moaning a breathy string of curses. 

He showered you with more praises, thrusting into you once, twice, three more times, before his voice tapered off into a groan, hurriedly pulling out of your throbbing cunt to cum all over your stomach, both your chests glistening with sweat.

Panting, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed beside you, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your temple. “My beautiful, sweet girl,” he murmured, making your heart swell with pride and adoration.

You turned to slot your lips just beside his nose bridge, rubbing your thighs together contentedly. “My handsome, gentle Prince,” you responded, voice hoarse and exhaust weighing down your eyelids. 

“You did so well for me. You can sleep now, my lady.” he reassured, expression softening as he pushed a stray strand of your hair away from your face. “I’ll clean you up.”

You could only tiredly smile at him, allowing your eyes to fully slip shut, chest rising and falling evenly as slumber took over your form. Jace could only watch fondly, pressing one last kiss to your temple, before making his way off the bed.

The next morning rolled by far too soon. The sun glared through your windows, straight into your eyes, and you tried waving it away with a huff of annoyance, to no avail. Finally, you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand. Once you came to, you noticed that you were neatly tucked into the center of your expansive bed, and you lifted the thick blue blanket to look down, mildly surprised to find any and all stickiness between your thighs and on your stomach was gone. 

Did you dream of what transpired last night? Was Prince Jacaerys only but a figment of your hyperactive imagination?

Feeling a bit dejected, you fell back against your feather-stuffed pillows, rolling onto your side. It couldn’t have been a dream, though—it certainly felt real. Heat spidered across your skin at the lewd memories of the night before. 

Your suspicion was only confirmed when you caught sight of a small, folded piece of paper on your bedside table. With nimble fingers, you plucked it off the surface and unfurled the sheet, a small smile dancing at the corner of your mouth. You found it endearing that Jacaerys’ handwriting was a nearly illegible, messy scrawl of ink across the parchment.

My dearest lady, As much as it pains me to leave you, I have urgent matters to attend to for my mother. I will be heading North to the Three Sisters in hopes of gaining their favor. I will never forget this night with you, nor will I forget my promise to take you flying across Westeros after the war ends. You are, without a doubt, the most wonderful thing to have happened to me. I still wonder if I am dreaming, because a beauty such as yours cannot possibly exist. I will come back for you, sweet girl. I swear it by the Seven.  Yours, Jace

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