_(:3」z)_

✧ she/her — lvl 22 ✧ Striving to post at least once a week! Taking requests (or if there are characters you want to see more of please let me know!)

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✧ Little bit about me ✧

She/Her — 20s — Major fantasy enthousiast :)

What’s important to know?

I’m still very new to posting on Tumblr since I’ve only ever lurked (all tips/advice are always welcome! ♡)

This is mostly a way for me to start writing for fun, though also to broaden my vocab ‘n grammar since English isn’t my first language

Mostly here for the characters others don’t write as much for :)

What fandoms do I (want to) write for?

Like mentioned I’m a big fantasy enthusiast, I really enjoy reading fanmade fiction so I thought I’d give it a shot and write some myself.

These the fandoms I’m currently writing for:

Games ₊˚⊹⋆

Dragon Age: Inquisition

Elden Ring

Monster Hunter: World

Skyrim

The Witcher 3

Movies/series ₊˚⊹⋆

A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms

Castlevania

Game of Thrones

The Hobbit

House of the Dragon

Kingdom of Heaven

Lord of the Rings

Just because something isn’t on the list doesn’t mean I’m unwilling to write for it! I might just not’ve caught up with something for a while or simply forgotten to add it to the list.

This mostly started because characters I liked didn’t have many fics about them so any requests are definitely welcome even for lesser-written-about characters ♡

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hello!! I absolutely adored your Caranthir ar feiniel fic from earlier in the year do you plan to post more of him? If not I'd love to request some hcs of him and the reader character you had! :)

Omg thank you so much!!♡♡ Imo Caranthir is so underrated! I have some ideas for another short fic about him but I’m not too sure how to go about that yet :P

I never really posted head-cannons before but I definitely like the idea so I’m totally down for it!

Also omg sorry this took so long and it’s a little rough but this definitely pulled me back to writing after a big ass writing block so thank youuuu!! ♡

Some headcannons based on the ⟡ Master’s Apprentice ⟡ fic feat. Caranthir x reader

✦ Content - Just lots of Caranthir struggling with emotions, some insights on the possible future after the fic - Warnings - not proofread

Caranthir, who had viewed your presence like a star on the horizon and then finds out you’re a lowly human. It didn’t even cross his mind that you could be anything but elven.

He had spent time teaching you from afar, through only a connection of minds. He knew of your strength but now that he had met you he wasn’t sure whether to put you down himself or to elevate you to a proper apprentice.

Carathir who now faces a greater struggle, that perhaps this one d’hoine might not be as useless as the others. That with the right teachings she could be perhaps be deemed talented, that in the right light she wasn’t entirely uncomely.

He would begrudgingly make sure you were treated well, most of all by the other soldiers of the Wild Hunt. A lousy master and teacher would not, he is not lousy. That is the only reason, he likes to tell himself.

Caranthir prefers to keep you nearby, for safety and to keep you in line. He himself was always under a watchful eye in his youth, the prodigy, the Golden Child. His every move disciplined and corrected. He finds that, so far, he has been easy on you in comparison.

To Caranthir this makes his feelings all the more confusing. He wants you to be disciplined but not as rigidly as he had experienced during his younger years. He wants you close but the sensations your closeness bring forth are unfamiliar to him. He wants to be your master but knows a master should not wish to hold their apprentice in the way he wishes to.

Caranthir has been an experiment all his life. Even when Avallac’h is no longer present he still feels like his every move is observed. That is how he has always lived, his every action still influenced by it. It is also the reason Caranthir does not know what to make of his feelings, whether they’re his own or mere projections of his former mentors.

Caranthir hates that you are human, not because you are as terrible as the rest but precisely because you are not. He hates that during sleepless nights he wishes to pull you under the furs with him. That during those vulnerable moments he yearns to know if your hair would be as soft as he imagines it to be if he were to run his fingers through it.

Caranthir would feel both disgusted and uncomfortably vulnerable with the way you’d make him feel. He would need time, courage and probably a gentle hand before he learns to face this peril with an opinion purely curated by himself alone.

⟡ Notes - AAAA once again sorry this took sooo long. I hope I did him some justice :) Caranthir as a character could really use more fan-made content in any form honestly

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⟡ Of dragons and princesses ⟡

✦ Summary - Knights kill dragons, a tale as old as time

⟡ Brienne x cursed!reader

✦ Content - reader is the daughter of a lord but also cursed, yeah, Podrick is there too, this is pretty long (my bad bro) - Warnings - there’s not much x reader yet, definitely not lore friendly, not proofread, part 2 will be coming I swear

Why slay a monster? Because her lord commanded it, of course. A dragon, local farmers claimed, resting in the ruins of the old keep. Though dragons were extinct, everyone knew that. Reports that came back did not match a dragon either, only coming out at night and stealing little more than a sheep or so a week. Yet the villagers of a nearby settlement did not budge, they had seen the scorch marks, the scaled wings and how the creature would descend from the skies. The lush fields around the old ruins were no longer safe, so someone had to go and clear them out.

“So what could it be then, if not a dragon?” Asked the dark haired squire riding beside her. “Perhaps bandits, perhaps local youth playing a prank? I don’t know either, Podrick.” Brienne sighs while grasping the reigns a little tighter. “Either way, we were sent to clear things up and that is exactly what we shall do.” She was not trying to sound too annoyed with him, he meant well after all but he had been asking questions all ride long. Luckily for them smoke plumes were seen rising on the horizon, the village coming in sight quickly after.

A few children were playing on the dirt road leading up to the small cluster of houses, gawking as Brienne and Podrick rode past before running after them with excited shouts. They were able to quickly locate the alderman’s house, easily recognizable by the high roof and painted walls. A boy who she assumed was the man’s son came up and quickly took their horses while gesturing for them to head inside.

“Aye, a dragon comes down nigh every week, steals our sheep.” The alderman explains while leaning over his bowl. He was an older man with thin, straggly hair. As he spoke his wife served the two companions their meal, hearty stew with warm bread. “Has anyone seen this dragon-?” Brienne asked with a raised brow as her squire started gratefully spooning stew into his mouth.

The alderman nodded again. “The young shepherds who take the sheep up the hills near the ruins. Ask any of ‘em, they’ve all seen the great drake descent in the dark.” Brienne listened attentively but didn’t care to correct the man on the fact that drakes and dragons were completely different beasts. Instead she nodded thoughtfully while taking polite bites of her stew. “When was the last time it came down from the ruins?” The man takes a moment to count, and then re-count, his fingers. “About five days-“ “We’ll talk to the shepherds then-“ Brienne decides with a nod.

After thanking the alderman for supper her and Podrick left the painted house. “Will we wait till the morrow?” Podrick asks as he looks at the sun slowly sinking behind the horizon, painting the sky in all sorts of reds, oranges and pinks. Brienne shakes her head. Instead she points towards the hills in the distance, where the ruins laid. “We’ll stay in the cover of the trees close to ruins, if this creature is truly active around dusk and night we might catch a glimpse of whatever it might actually be.”

So they left the horses in the village, with saddlebags slung over their shoulders they set up a small camp at the foot of the hills. Being hidden nicely by thick bramble bushes they light no fire and take turns resting.

When the stars are out Brienne is shaken from her sleep when Podrick quietly nudges her awake. The young man points at the ruined arches and crumbling walls. “Something moves-“ he whispers under his breath. As Brienne’s eyes slowly adjust to the darkness she sees it as well. Every so often something seemed to move over the walls, only made apparent by a beam if moonlight glittering off this creature or when debris toppled off the crumbling walls.

It moved in a way that reminded her of the sand colored lizards that you could often spot on roads and walls during the warm summers. Almost sticking to the vertical surfaces while seemingly unbothered by the pull of the ground below. The creature before them moved again, stretching itself, after which a soft rustle cut through the air. Before either Brienne or Podrick could estimate what the sound might mean the thing took flight with a loud shriek that tore through the silence of the night.

Podrick let’s out a soft curse when it flies right over their heads and towards the nearby fields. Brienne had already jumped to her feet and now gestures for him to follow. Through the trees they can both hear the panicked bleating of sheep, light flashes through the dark and when they get a clear view of the field the creature is gone. The sheep have stopped bleating, instead they stand huddled together, trying to keep as much space between them and the charred patch of grass in the middle of the field. The air fills with the stench of burned hair and charred meat.

A young man, around Podrick’s age, peers over the herd and waves to them before pointing to the sky. “There-!” The young shepherd shouts. This time it’s Brienne who mutters a curse under her breath. “Back, we go back.“ She huffs with a hand on the hilt of her blade before reluctantly turning back to the ruins, Podrick following close behind.

“So a dragon after all?” Podrick asks, keeping his voice low just in case. “I… don’t know.” Brienne admits. “If it is, it’s a juvenile at best. It was hardly bigger than you, beside the wings of course.” “But it spits fire.” “Yes Pod, it definitely spits fire.”

Once back at the foot of the hill they could both witness the light now flickering deep in the crumbling hallways, casting long shadows as the creature moved deeper down into the abandoned chambers. Brienne takes a step forward before hesitating and looking back. Podrick was right beside her, willing to follow her anywhere despite his fears. She takes a deep breath before quietly shaking her head. “It has stayed here for weeks, it won’t disappear so suddenly. We’ll return tomorrow at first light, prepared to face… whatever this dragon-creature is.”

At her words Podrick’s shoulders instantly become less tense and he nods in agreement. She wouldn’t drag him along while they were both ill prepared and no one would have any use for them if they were nothing more than flesh cooked in their own armor.

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Come morn they found themselves back in the same place. This time with breakfast in their bellies and shields at the ready.

It was quiet around the hill and when they got closer to the dilapidated keep it eyed as it had been for a very long time, abandoned. Yet the pair now knew better. When they quietly stalked down a crumbling corridor the signs of the current inhabitant started showing. A jaw, some ribs, cattle bones. Bleached by the sun coming through the large open spaces where once a wooden roof was and now only rotting beams remained.

When sudden noise erupted behind them both Brienne and Podrick spun around on their heels just to see it was nothing more than loose mortar crumbling down and revealing more of the weathered walls. “If that thing won’t kill us the building just might.” Podrick whispers softly while they venture to what once might’ve been the great hall.

Half of the roof had collapsed in already, concealing the second half of the hall with a dam of rotting wood and cracked roof slates. The scent here was stronger, the same smell of burned hair had become more noticeable from the moment they stepped inside.

With shield raised cautiously, Brienne slowly takes the first step into the open space. While scanning the pile of debris before her a few rotten wood splinters fall down beside her, at first glance she thinks nothing of it but then she hears an unfamiliar, soft gurgling sound right above her. As Brienne turns her head to look Podrick roughly grabs her shoulder and pulls her back in the hallway they had just come from. She caught only a glimpse, the draconid perched on a rotting beam like a cat. The cracked, tile floor where she had stood only a moment ago now got doused in foul smelling fire.

Both Brienne and Podrick retreat back into the the hallway, shield raised. The draconid jumps down and follows slowly. It moved oddly and all it’s forms were out of proportion, not like a beast and more like a man crawling on their hands and feet. Just as noticeable were the odd, dirtied strips of cloth hanging from the creature’s body. Yet it opened its maw again, the same gurgling sound was heard and light burned in the back of the creatures throat. Fire. Hot and scorching the shield as it spat at them once more, though this time it was significantly less powerful. It needs time to replenish, Brienne suddenly thought. It was only a theory but right now they didn’t have much time to think about what could or couldn’t be true.

The tail of the creature lashed back and forth as it seemed ready to pounce. Just as it leaped Brienne rushed forward and with all her might bashed her shield right into the creature’s face. With a pained yelp it fell on it’s back, scrambled back and darted away. Back to the great hall. She could just see the tip of its tail disappear over the debris from the fallen roof. It left a trail of blood for them to follow but what caught their interest right now was a scrap of fabric pinned under Brienne’s boot. While rushing towards the beast she must’ve stepped on some of the rags hanging off the creature.

When she picks it up her brow knits together. Under the years worth of wear and dirt something almost looking like embroidery was visible, finer than she had certainly ever worn. Podrick looks along over her shoulder, he too is at a loss for words at this point.

After pondering it for a moment Brienne stuffs the scrap of fabric into her pocket and starts following the trail of blood. “It needs a moment replenish before it can breathe fire again, I think. We should use it to our advantage.” Podrick nods and follows close behind.

While scaling the mount of debris they can both spot the draconid huddled in a corner of the hall. Piles of scorched wool are scattered over the floor, looking like it had tried to make something akin to a nest. With fierce steps Brienne moves forward, sword and shield ready to strike. The beast peaks out from under it’s leathery wings and hisses like a cornered alley cat. Just as Brienne steps closer she notices movement in the corner of her eye, before she can react the strong tail lashes through the air and hits her right in the head.

Everything moves so slow it almost feels as if she were drunk. Brienne doesn’t even know at what point she hit the ground, black threatening to overtake her sight from the edges of her vision. Somewhere in the distance someone calls out her name, the voice sound familiar. Podrick? Yes, her squire, she remembers now as the drake jumps over her fallen body to strike at the young man. Poor boy, he should’ve stayed at the village to care for the horses.

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The woman smiled, a hand resting on her pregnant belly. “How is our little one hm?” … “Well, eating like a little beast-“ She chuckled softly. “Constantly has me craving for mutton, lamb-chops, the sorts.”

Another soft laugh fills the room. They’re proud, happy, parents-to-be.

“Well let’s not hope it’ll grow up to be a beast, it’d be a tragedy.” Another voice in the room, a snake in a man’s skin. His words are kind yet his heart soured with jealousy.

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The sun was higher now, beaming down through the rotting roof. The warm rays on her face almost like a small comfort. To ease away the hard thumping against her skull and soothe her stiff limbs. Brienne felt like her head might explode, cold had seeped from the stones beneath into her flesh and cramped her muscles. Yet despite all she felt surprisingly warm. A firm weight rested on her chest, making breathing slightly difficult.

As the knight’s eyes slowly opened her heart started racing at the sight before her. The draconid was curled up right on top of her breastplate, having folded itself up comfortably. Its chest rose slowly with each breath as it was still asleep it seemed. With the creature so close and most certainly being trapped beneath it Brienne had some time to study it closer, having little other choice.

Her eyes slowly roamed from the dried blood on it’s snout to the sharp talons. The digits noticeably had gold rings stuck on them, dainty and pretty like the ladies at court sometimes wore. Now being closer she could also see the same embroidered patterns on the thin, ragged scraps of cloth still hanging onto the creature. Speaking of, the beast was slowly turning over and stretched before snuggling back up against her, there was no other way Brienne could’ve described it. It reminded her almost of a cat.

Having no grip on the steel breastplate the draconid almost threatens to slide off. Out of pure reflex Brienne’s hand darts out to steady the creature. Right as she does her heart skips a beat and she freezes as its eyes shoot open, regarding her for a long moment. She’s done for, she knows it… but instead the accursed thing curls into her touch after a moment of contemplation. In another light it could’ve almost be seen as endearing, especially when it begins to nuzzle its head into the palm of her hand.

Brienne takes a shaky breath before hesitantly scratching the thing under its chin as she often did with her steed. A soft purr fills the silence around the odd pair.

The creature presses its head firmer into her hand. For a moment she feels like she might be imagining it but its eyes seem so glisten ever so slightly. The moment is almost tranquil until suddenly the beast freezes up, muscles tensing as its eyes widen with surprise and perhaps fear? It falls off of her, on its side, and starts to writhe and twist uncontrollably. It makes a sound like it’s in pain and before Brienne can even sit up properly the cracking and snapping sounds of bone rearranging echo through the ruins. The creature shrieks with a sound that rattles bone after which it starts desperately clawing at its leathery skin.

To Brienne’s surprise it actually tears, not giving way to hot blood but something different entirely. Soft skin peeks out from beneath the scales as the creature writhes and tears until it’s exhausted itself. The old hide hangs off its body as it finally collapses and lays still, panting. Brienne steps closer, reaching for you. Her eyes scanning over the planes of your body. Despite the grime, what now laid before her was distinctly lady-like, though be it dirty and slightly feral looking. It was unmistakable, fingers still bearing those rings, a head of tangled hair, soft and feminine planes.

Oh.

A young woman.

After a moment of staring you down Brienne quickly undoes her cloak and drapes it over your bare body. At the contact your eyes flutter open weakly. Your body felt beyond sore, aching from within. Brienne quickly shushes you as she tucks you into her cloak before carefully scooping you up into her arms. Being exhausted you let it happen. With your head resting against her chest she slowly starts to carry you from the ruins, down the hill and through the fields. On her way back she tries to look for any trace of her squire but finds none.

Only when she returns to the village she spots a familiar head of dark hair. Relief washes over her as she witnesses the young man being held back by two women who try to usher him back inside one of the houses. “-but my lady needs me-!” “You’re still hurt, you’ll get yourself slaughtered.”

“At ease Podrick.” Brienne says with a small smile and the young man’s face lights up. “My lady! You’re alright!” He gasps in disbelief as he observes the both of you. When the women step aside Brienne can see the sling around his arm. “Are you hurt badly?” She asks after which the squire quickly shakes his head. “A fractured collarbone and a few bruised ribs, could’ve been worse.” He says with a smile before looking over you again, wrapped in Brienne’s deep blue cloak. “We’ve got company then? Was the dragon hoarding princesses and have I missed out on it all?” He asks with a playful tone. “It’s a long story.” Brienne murmurs.

⟡ Notes - Is it obvious I’ve been playing the Witcher 3 a lot? I’m re-reading the books again too. Either way this is really self indulgent but def thinking of writing a part 2 with maybe a semi-feral reader?? School is still wrecking me tho so have patience 🙏🏻

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⟡ Summer heat ⟡

✦ Summary - The summer heat is too much so you’d rather spend your time inside with your husband

⟡ Baldwin IV x wife!reader

✦ Content - You’re Baldwin’s wife - Warnings - MDNI, kisses, handjob (B-receiving), smut, unprotected sex (p-in-v), not proofread

The warmth in the city had become unbearable. Only the walls of Kerak castle managed to shield you from the burning sun, the thick stone forming a perfect barrier. You thought a breath of fresh air would do you good but you were sorely mistaken when the sweat already gathered on your brow before you had even reached the gardens.

With a reluctant sigh you had stepped back inside and made your way to familiar quarters of your husband. After stepping inside you quickly discarded your sandals and let out a soft sigh of relief when your feet made contact with the cold tiles. From the corner of the room a soft chuckle graces your ears as Baldwin regards you fondly. You did not need to see his face to know he was smiling.

“Chased back inside by the sun?” He asks, a playful lilt to his voice as he watches you strip off an extra layer. While wiping the sweat off your brow wig your forearm you let out a soft hum in agreement. “Can’t even go to the gardens anymore.” You sigh while walking to him and pressing a kiss to the cheek of his mask. Even the silver mask was warm to the touch. “Why don’t you lose some layers hm?” During the heat his lesions and sores would irritate, even if he endured you were cautious he wouldn’t overdo it.

“Well? You have no other plans today?” You ask with a gentle smile. “I have not.” Baldwin confirms and he lets you reach for his mask. He could trust you to be gentle, you always were and you had done it plenty of times before. Within minutes he too is stripped of his extra layers. No more white robes nor mask, just his undershirt, bandages and soft, linnen breeches. “Better.” You whisper with a loving smile before sitting across from him. An untouched carafe of cooled wine sits between you and you fill two goblets. Meanwhile Baldwin observes you with a fond look.

“You look beautiful.” He murmurs as the corner of his lip twitches into a smile. When he reaches for the goblet he holds on just a little tighter, taking the goblet and keeping your hand in his. Bringing it close reverently before pressing a few gentle kisses to your knuckles. Even after all these years he still manages to make you blush ever so slightly as you feel the warmth rise to your cheeks. Despite having just sat down he carefully pulls you closer, coaxing you into his lap until you’re seated sideways and trying not to put too much weight on him.

“I’m not that frail yet. Sit, my love.” Baldwin chuckles as his other hand comes to rest on your lower back. After a second of hesitation you dare to put your entire weight on his lap, at which your husband smiles with a hint of triumph. The hand previously holding yours now comes to rest on your thigh, rubbing gentle circles into the cool silk. You lean in and press a few more soft kisses to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jawline.

A soft groan escapes him as your lips make contact with his neck. The hand on your thigh gripping slightly tighter, the one on your back sliding up to tangle in your hair. Your name leaves his lips like a prayer as he lets his head lean back. Every one of your touches makes him forget the failings of his own body. You never cared once, never showing signs of disgust, not even when his illness progressed. Baldwin allows his eyes to flutter shut as you turn in his lap, straddling him instead.

Only when he feels your hands toying with the hem of his breeches his eyes open wide in surprise. “Love, you don’t have to-“ He starts but you cut him off with a chuckle. “I know, but I don’t please my husband just out of duty.” As he opens his mouth to respond he barely gets out another word, instead letting out a gasp when your hand slides into his breeches to grasp him firmly. You lean in with a smug smile and kiss his open mouth, taking full advantage of the situation and slipping your tongue into his mouth.

He eagerly kisses you back as his hands slip under your skirts, grasping and kneading the soft flesh of your thighs. It doesn’t take long for him to be at full attention under your hand, your thumb brushing over his tip with every stroke. His hips buck up weakly into your hand before he regains himself. Baldwin roughly bunches up your skirts until they’re sitting at your hips. Without having to even say a word you know what he needs.

A quick tug is all that is needed to free him from his breeches. You lift your hips over his and align yourself before sinking down on him slowly, earning a groan from the both of you. With his hands still on your hips he guides your movements, rocking his hips up in turn. “You’re perfect, so perfect, so beautiful.” Baldwin groans under his breath while pulling you down harder into his lap.

Meanwhile your hands have found purchase on his shoulders, nails digging in while you bite your lip. To him it is art, the flush on your cheeks and the sweat beading in the valley between your breasts. His face dips lower to kiss the tops of your breasts reverently, the scent and taste of your warm skin like a drug. “My dove, you’ll be my undoing-“ He mutters between kisses, earning a breathy chuckle from you. “Not too soon, I hope?” You tease in turn. Baldwin shakes his head with a smile. “Not yet.”

With a little more urgency you move your hips down on him each time, your hand disappearing between the both of you. Your husband quickly catches your wrist. “Let me.” He murmurs before you feel the rough texture of his bandaged fingers slide up your inner thigh. Your movements stutter once he finds just what he’s looking for and he starts rubbing tight circles around your sensitive bud, forcing high pitched whimpers and gasps from your lips.

Your walls flutter and tighten around him while the rhythm of your hips turns into a desperate grind. Ever the giving lover Baldwin’s hips jerk up into you just right, his fingers touching you exactly where you need it most before you grasp his shoulders tighter and feel the pressure build. It all comes down with a soft cry from your lips, clinging onto him tightly as his fingers never cease to draw out your pleasure. While whispering words of praise he too reaches his climax and releases inside you with a groan.

It takes a moment to regain your bearings as you’re still pressed against him tightly, both of you sticky from the sweat and heat yet equally satisfied. His hand gently strokes your hair as he relishes in the moment. “You’re divine, my love.” He murmurs with an almost dreamy tone before pressing a kiss to your temple. A lazy smile tugs at your lips when shift a little to rest more comfortably against him. “You’re good to me.” You whisper back with a smile before looking up. “I love you.” You murmur after which you press another sweet kiss to his lips.

“I love you too.” Baldwin whispers fondly. He could stay like this forever but he knew you’d soon complain about the heat which was now quickly building between both of your bodies being pressed together. However he did not mind it, a cold bath would do you both some good, but for now he would happily stay like this a moment longer

⟡ Notes - According to Wikipedia (don’t come for me) leprosy isn’t sexually transmitted so good for you, huzzah

[soggy-castlewalls]

⟡ Master’s apprentice ⟡

✦ Summary - After searching long and hard Caranthir finally meets the sorceress he had been teaching from across worlds

⟡ Caranthir x reader

✦ Content - apprentice/teacher dynamic - Warnings - reader is a human sorceress, master dynamic, power imbalance, elf/human hate, not proofread

The Skellige seas were dark, almost black apart from the white foam topping the rough waves. Cold winds whipped at your face as you stood on the shore, overlooking the raw beauty of it all. The skies above were nearly as dark, foreboding more downpour. It could be any moment now, you sensed it. The air crackled and the scent of ozone hit your nostrils first, then it came. Before your eyes space itself tore open like a fresh wound, cold pouring out and freezing even the unruly waves.

The black bough of ship breached the portal first, adorned with heavy, metal reinforcements. The Naglfar. It crashed through and dropped into the quickly growing patch of ice. The metal groaned as the ship pushed through the frozen growlers before it finally came to a halt close to shore.

The portal closed but the cold lingered, making you tug your fur-lined cloak tighter around you. By now the water around the ship had frozen over, allowing the armed soldiers of the Wild Hunt to walk to shore. They were following clear orders as they formed smaller groups to scout the island.

Before long a familiar figure appeared among them, beelining toward you with clear intent. You quickly bow your head respectfully and keep your gaze lowered. “Welcome, master.” You speak as the elf comes to stand before you, observing you with a clinical look. After an uncomfortable silence his armored hand takes hold of your chin. Your head titled up and to the sides as you’re inspected by your master.

Caranthir takes his time to examine every inch of you, his gaze lingering especially long on your rounded ears. Still wearing his helmet his expression was impossible to read. “You’re a dh’oine.” He eventually states with a rough voice, not bothering to hide his disappointment. You nod softly, not daring to look him in the face, letting your gaze linger on his intricate breastplate instead.

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She came to him when he least expected it. While searching for Cirilla and jumping through time and space again and again he had been at his limits. Then suddenly, while trying to set a course to Cirilla’s homeworld, he felt it. It was like a bright star in dark, endless void, almost calling to him. At first he could do nothing but assume it must’ve been a trace of Cirilla’s magic but when he allowed himself closer he felt it. Another consciousness, magic in nature like many who practiced sorcery. Though this one seemed to have strayed into the dark, away from their physical form, curious to a dangerous extent.

He had reached out in a trance, consciousnesses brushing past each other before he sunk in his talons. Leaving no escape he examined, instead of struggling she submitted like a dog eager to show its belly.

Useful, that’s what he had told himself it was. A sorceress usable as an anchor once they needed a quick return to Cirilla’s homeworld. So during the day they pursued the girl of the Elder Blood and when he slept his mind sought hers, teaching her, molding her. When the time came he’d use their growing bond to the hunt’s advantage.

She was eager to learn, eager to please her master and teacher. She must be lonely, he thought, yet strong. Clearly she must’ve been one of his kind, an elven sorceress with tremendous potential.

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So now, when faced with the truth he felt conflicted. You were what he had always hated, inferior and fragile. A round-eared, meek, pathetic little dh’oine. He had had such high hopes, this was a disappointment. Yet you could still be useful, in a way, he supposed. If only for your loyalty. You’d throw yourself into whatever hell he asked of you, he knew that.

“-your tent, lieutenant?” A voice shook him from his thoughts. Caranthir whipped his head towards the soldier addressing him. “…What-?” He asked with a low voice. The soldier repeats himself. “Will the dh’oine be staying in your tent, lieutenant?” Caranthir wanted to snap back that of course not, no filth would be sleeping in his tent. Though he holds his tongue and forces himself to think rationally. “Yes, make it so.” He replies after a moment of silence, his hand still holding your chin.

That is how you found yourself whispering spells under your breath, enchanting the lining of Caranthir’s tent on his behalf. Something to keep out the cold, some words to repel the downpour. Caranthir watches quietly, his eyes lingering on your lips. The way you whisper is so gentle, almost loving, like you’re performing some great miracle.

A camp bed awaited him. Peaceful, uninterrupted sleep. On the other side of the tent a less impressive bedroll was laid out on the floor for you. “That’s enough.” The tall elf commands and you finish casting the last spell. With a quiet sigh his shoulders relax a little for what feels like the first time in a decade. His helmet slides off his head and he sets it on the small table beside him. You couldn’t help but watch as the blond hair spilled past his shoulders. He has a handsome face that made you want to reminisce over every detail. To mourn the helmet that would hide such beauty from view.

“Help me with these.” He groans softly as his hands fidget with the straps of his armor. You are quick to take over for him, loosening them one by one and carefully taking away the pieces. Up close he looked more exhausted than you had initially realized so you tried to be quick about it. Carathir appreciated that, straight to the point, just as he liked. Once freed he sat down onto the bed with a small groan. It felt like the bed was still swaying slightly but for once his feet were planted on solid ground instead of aboard the Naglfar.

“Will you be able to sleep, master?” You asked him softly. The way you said it gave away how you truly did care, like you weren’t just asking because it was expected of you. The elf nods before gesturing at the bedroll. “You should get some sleep as well, tomorrow we’ll continue your teachings.”

Once the sun had set the weather outside had turned unforgiving, cold winds lashing at the encampment. The bed however was warm, yet Caranthir still had a hard time falling asleep, his mind not yet willing to be put to rest. At some point his gaze had come to rest on you, rolled up tightly in your cloak. It made no real difference, you were shivering still. Eyes pressed shut as if to will away the cold seeping into your body.

Caranthir had reluctantly come to realize that in certain lights you looked somewhat comely, despite being human. Even now, when his body yearned for rest but his thoughts were elsewhere, he could imagine you’d perhaps even be pretty. Had you been born as an elf maid of course, he quickly reminds himself. Truly it was his own fault, he had assumed a great many things while your minds had conversed over impossible distances. He would not make such a mistake again. Though you were sweet, if anything, and you meant every word of it too. Even while tapping into your mind he could find nothing but adoration and wonder. Naturally of course, he was something unique after all.

His aimless cogitating is cut short when he too feels the cold seep through the furs and blankets around him. For a moment he contemplates simply casting a quick incantation but he did not wish to exert himself more. Besides, however much he wished to deny it he yearned for a different warmth now, one that no quick spell could imitate. Not like Imlerith, he wouldn’t stoop so low, just… something to hold. He looks over again and with a reluctant sigh he throws back his covers.

“Come here.” He mutters softly. It takes a moment to register his words but with the way you’re slowly freezing up you don’t hesitate for long. Before long you’re under the covers with him, laying perfectly straight while staring at the canvas above you. You weren’t sure how to act, what to do nor what was expected of you. Luckily Caranthir doesn’t wait long to give instructions. “Turn over, back to me.” He murmurs, after which his arms soon curl around you and pull you back against his chest.

Your hair tickles his face as he buries his nose in the back of your neck. For now he’ll ignore how fast your heart beats in favor of the shared warmth. He’ll ignore how your scent is not totally repulsive. It’s something sweet with something floral that makes him want to breathe you in shamelessly. It’s because the hour is late, because he is exhausted and because he misses the comforts of home. He’s not himself, that is what he convinces himself.

So for now he will hold you close and relishes this simple comfort. Perhaps tomorrow he shall do the same and the day after that. It meant nothing after all, though it was getting harder to persuade himself of that.

⟡ Notes - This is lowkey ass but I really wanted to write for Caranthir and I’m having a creative block, womp womp

[soggy-castlewalls]

⟡ Extinguished embers ⟡

✦ Summary - Maekar is grieving and nothing seems to help

⟡ Maekar x wife!reader

✦ Content - second wife reader - Warnings - unhappy marriage, grief, angst, hurt, insecurities, not proofread

His face was like stone, cold and unfeeling. You had rather seen him rage, or cry, but that was very unlike your husband. So instead he sat for hours, staring at nothing with a face that did not give away a thing. A grief that was quiet and yet filled the shared living space. He rarely spoke of Ashford, rarely spoke of his late wife but you could tell it was eating away at him.

“Maekar?” Your voice gently eased away the deafening quiet. Your marriage had been meant to bring some life back into this man but it seemed an impossible feat. He was older, experienced, a man who had already known all aspects of life and marriage. Including a beautiful wife who granted him six children, he had no need for another. Nonetheless your hands find his shoulders and you gently massaged them as you often did, he never said anything about it and you assumed he in the least didn’t mind since he wouldn’t tell you off.

“It is getting late, will you head to bed shortly?” Your question is met with silence. He did not mean too, you were certain, but his grief was infectious. It made your heart feel heavy and your shoulders tense, like you had carried part of his burden all day.

Your hands slip from his shoulders as you walk around the chair he sat on and kneeled by the front of his chair to rest your head on his knee. Your hand resting on his thigh and slowly stroking the firm muscle beneath. “Husband?” You try again and for a moment he’s pulled from his daze to look at you. For but a flash you saw the emotions passing behind his eyes, a small spark of hope at the word ‘husband’ before reality settled in with a wave of disappointment.

Maekar’s hand slowly rises to rest on the back of your neck. “You’re good to me.” He murmurs softly while quietly rubbing circles with his thumb. He had said it often before but his tone gave it all away. He did not love you. Why would he? He had no reason to. You had seen the portraits of his late wife and it had made you understand. Comely, that is what you were, what you had been described as but Dyanna was beauty itself.

How could you replace the sun if all that you had been given was a candle? Of course you could not shake your husband from his grief, however hard you tried. And the gods know you did.

Before and during the first moths of your marriage you had been brimming with life and light. With six children there was no pressure for an heir, in fact, they’d explicitly chosen you because your family was but a small house. One that would not press to make any children from this union eligible to be heir. In full honesty you were grateful for this opportunity at all. To marry a prince of the realm was a possibility which hadn’t even dared to cross your mind, though when you arrived you understood why.

The man was inconsolable, he had no want nor need for another wife. This did not mean he treated you cruelly, rather just apathetically. You often saw regret in his eyes because when he called you kind he did not lie, but you should’ve been kind for someone else. Someone younger perhaps, a green lordling who was eager to have a woman of his own, who’d give you flowers and take you on rides.

“We should head to bed.” You suggest softly before getting up and taking his hand. With a gentle pull you manage to coax him from the chair. It felt like a breath of fresh air when he nodded and stated undoing his doublet as you got into bed. Finally he joined you and you cuddled up against his side. In a strange way it was still comfortable, he was solid and warm in a sense that it made you feel at home.

After getting comfortable you arch your neck in order to press a kiss to his cheek, like you had first done on your wedding night. He hadn’t been rough with you then, rather dutiful instead. Even if he wasn’t quite enjoying it you had been grateful that he did not see the need to be unkind either. To your disappointment it had not been enough to get you with child and it was the first and last time he had touched you in such a way.

At first you had assumed the fault laid with you. Hours spent in front of a mirror picking yourself apart piece by piece had left you insecure and feeling inadequate. You weren’t anything special, no great house, no children to celebrate and a husband that did not dare touch you.

When it all had come to a boiling point you had collapsed in your handmaids arms and cried into her shoulder until she talked some sense into you. It had been poor circumstances, not any fault of yours. For a while it was hard to believe but eventually you saw sense and saw the situation for what it truly was.

But a man could not live like this right? In the stories you had heard of him he used to be full of fire and despite the heavy weight pressing on your chest you were headstrong too. You were still young, this could not last forever, you’d outlive it and see the fire return in him once more. At least you hoped it… and if not you’d still stay by his side. Maekar was often apathetic but tried to be kind in his own ways. Anyhow it was better than being some broodmare to a rough man.

So for now you closed your eyes and pressed a little bit closer. Tomorrow was a new day which gave you yet another chance to perhaps awaken something within your husband, however small it may be.

Maekar, in turn, did notice h your attempts. Perhaps he did not yet notice it himself but deep down in the surface it did stir something within him. Not love, it was far too early for that, but perhaps a silent acknowledgment and appreciation for the way you kept trying. You truly were very good to him, he did know that.

⟡ Notes - Failed nearly all my exams and got hit by a car so this one is a little short 🫡

[soggy-castlewalls]

⟡ A summer storm ⟡

✦ Summary - While traveling your company is hit with a classic summer storm. Unable to sleep you ask your sworn sword to keep you company

⟡ Brienne x reader

✦ Content - reader is scared of thunder/lightning, fluff, comfort - Warnings - bit of angst, not proofread

As the last of the guy lines were being hammered into the ground a firm breeze rustled through the surrounding forest. “Just in time.” You heard a few of the guards murmur and some looked at the sky. It was hard to see clearly but the small patches of blue which were visible through the thick canopy overhead were slowly starting to turn a dark grey.

Brienne followed your gaze. “A summer storm, no doubt. The air has been heavy all afternoon.” Your gaze travelled to her instead, a crown of blonde hair getting tousled by the wind. With the last rays of sunshine falling upon her strands it could almost be mistaken for some sort of halo. “Will the tents hold?” She nods in turn. “Worry not, my lady. They have been set up well. The trees will also serve as additional cover for any rain or harsh winds, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.” The tall woman says with a reassuring smile.

Easily said for her perhaps but when you lay on your cot, the first rain starts to lightly patter on the canvas and the surrounding trees. If it were only rain you would’ve managed but in the distance something far more worrisome had just let out its first low rumbles. Thunder, perhaps lightning too.

After tossing and turning over it for a bit and the thunder in the distance growing louder you finally make up your mind. Clad in just a nightshift you peer out of the tent. Brienne was sitting with two of your father’s guards, the latter two idly chatting while Brienne did not seem all too engaged in the conversation. The light rain, combined with the thick, humid air and the tension coiling in your stomach made the atmosphere feel heavy, nigh unbreathable.

“Brienne-?” You ask softly but your voice betrays you as it sounds more like a desperate croak. Luckily she heard and turns her head to look over at you. Noticing you’re still in just a nightshift she quickly gets up to block the line of sight of the other guardsmen. “My lady, you’re still awake?” She asks softly, not wishing to draw to much attention to the both of you.

You confirm her question with a quiet nod before swallowing nervously. “Could you stay inside with me?” You murmur softly, it felt silly to ask. You were no longer a little girl but you felt like it most certainly right now. Most of all you hoped she would not see you as childish. Another rumble in the distance. “Does the noise scare you, my lady?” Brienne asks softly, with no hint of judgement in her voice but rather a quiet understanding.

“Somewhat.” You confess. “Very well then, I shall stay close.” With a quiet rustle she walks into the tent with you and looks around for a place to rest for the night. She would not admit it out loud but it was far better than having to sit all night with your father’s men while they shared indecent jokes and tall tales. When Brienne spots the small stool near your cot she decides it adequate and takes a seat while you crawl back under the warm blankets.

“Thank you, Brienne.” You whisper softly. The dying light makes it hard to spot her smile but she smiles nonetheless. “It’s no trouble, my lady.”

Outside the rumbling slowly crept closer across the sky, now accompanied with a loud bang every so often. Content on her stool, Brienne was slowly dozing off, unbothered. For her this was a good moment to get some extra rest but when the flashes of light started she was quickly stirred awake when your hand grasped hers tightly.

Her eyes immediately shift towards you as you laid curled up, shivering in fear with the blankets pulled over your head. When the sparse light exposes the wetness brimming in your eyes she does not hesitate. Her hand firmly grips yours as she kneels beside the cot. “You’re going to be fine, my lady, I promise.” She whispers softly while stroking your knuckles.

Your hand squeezes hers so hard she’s certain you’ll leave crescent indents from your nails. It bothers her not, she rather sees you comforted by such a small gesture as holding onto your hand. Lightning strikes again it illuminates the tent for just a moment, after which another loud bang follows. A whimper escapes your lips and you no longer care about playing the part of the dignified lord’s daughter. “Please hold me.” You sob out softly.

Brienne looks perplexed for a moment, to keep you company was one thing but to crawl into bed beside you would be a whole other endeavor. For a moment she looks like she’s battling with herself, though she quickly makes up her mind. This wasn’t about questioning her honor, this was about bringing you comfort. Her free hand makes quick work of the leather straps of her gambeson and she only releases your hand to pull the garment off. With practiced ease she kicks off her boots before checking your face one last time.

Your expression gives nothing of discomfort away so Brienne takes it as her sign to proceed. She slips under the covers with you and before she can properly wrap her arms around you you’re already pressed against her chest, clinging to her like your life depended on it.

It takes Brienne a moment to settle before she’s petting your hand and back. “The trees of this forest are tall and strong, my lady. Lightning won’t strike our camp tonight.” She whispers softly. It felt almost natural to comfort you in such a way. Never before had it occurred to her how nice it could feel to just hold someone who trusted her so inexplicably. It caused her to feel warm, unfamiliar warmth rising to her cheeks and a soft tingling in her belly.

By now your breathing had slowed a little and she noticed it as well. Even as another flash lit up the sky outside you did not tremble this time around. “Will you try to sleep, my lady?” She whispers and earns a small nod in return. “Good, that’s good… I won’t go anywhere.” She assures you softly.

For a while she remains awake, stroking your hair as your breathing slows. The lightning has ceased, now only producing quiet rumbles as it slowly fades. The clouds release the last drops of light rain before a comfortable quiet settles in the tent instead. Only then does Brienne dare to sleep as well, still holding you to her chest like you were something precious.

⟡ Notes - This one is a little short but I just love Brienne so it definitely won’t be the last time I’ll write for her :)

[soggy-castlewalls]

⟡ The spares ⟡

✦ Summary - When Snow White escapes you’re left behind, luckily for you your protector is more than happy to keep you close.

⟡ Finn x reader

✦ Content - Reader is Snow White’s sister, this one is kind of long oops - Warnings - MDNI, dark themes!, Stockholm syndrome, age gap, grooming, manipulation, fingering, smut, p-in-v, unprotected sex

You were shaken roughly from your sleep as your duvet was pulled off of you. The cold hit you first, then the scent of smoke and after came the shouting and clashing of steel outside. “Get up, quickly now-“ Finn commands, as two of his men wait at the door. Your mind still addled with sleep as you slowly sit up, rubbing your eyes. “What is happening?” You ask softly and clearly you take too long as Finn takes a step forward and swiftly hoists you over his shoulder. “No time to lose, princess.”

He takes quick strides while carrying you through the hallways, all the while being escorted by his men. He carried you without much effort, you were still a girl after all. You trusted him, so your small hands clutch the fabric of his fine doublet. “Is the castle under attack?” You ask but get no answer. In the hallway leading past your sister’s quarters you can see Snow White being treated much the same, quickly carried off by your new stepmother’s guards. You call out to her but she’s carried away from you.

Finn climbs the stairs to one of the towers, equipped with old holding cells which had been out of use for long. Inside you’re placed on an old cot. There’s a worried look in your gentle eyes. “You’ll be safe here.” Finn assures you. He quickly turns to leave but you reach out and gently tug on his sleeve. “You’ll come back for me, right?” You now ask. It takes a moment before he nods. “Yes… I will, princess.” He says before stepping out of the holding cell, though it doesn’t sound convincing. Behind the door you can hear the lock turning and you’re alone once more.

Outside, the clashing of steel has not ceased. The cell has a small window but it’s too high up to see anything but the night sky above. So you pull your knees up to your chest and wait.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ݁. ˖ ݁. ⊹₊ ݁.

10 YEARS LATER

A knock on the reinforced door takes you out of your book. The ease with which the man strides into your cell has become familiar. “Finn-“ You greet him with a smile and scoot aside to make space for him to sit. However, the look on his face makes your smile fade as quickly as it had appeared. He’s scowling, like you had not see him do before, a cut right over his eye. Luckily, as far as you can see, the eye itself is not damaged. “What happened?”

Finn steps closer and grasps your chin with a firm hand. “Your idiot sister-!” He grits out with a threatening tone before releasing your chin. Quietly you lower your head as he starts pacing back and forth in the small room. At your attempt to make yourself smaller he stops and runs a hand over his face. After kneeling beside the cot he places a hand on your knee, warm and firm. “Forgive me, I should not have raised my voice at you.” He says with a deceivingly gentle tone.

His fingers find your chin once more to make you look at him, though now his touch is much softer. “You know I would never get angry at you, I just… I worry. For you, for Snow White. You see, she has fled the safety of the castle. I fear she might be in grave danger out there, all by herself.” He explains as his thumb gently strokes your chin. “You know we must keep you inside, keep you safe, right?” Finn asks and you nod obediently.

“Do you have any idea where she might’ve gone? A place from your childhood perhaps, somewhere she’d feel safe and hidden? I intend to bring her back, to safety.” He continues with a small smile, his thumb still gently stroking your chin. For a moment he indulges and gently runs it over your bottom lip, watching how soft it is.

“I-… I don’t know, we did not venture much outside the castle when we were young. It’s probably completely unfamiliar to her after such a long time.” You answer honestly. The answer doesn’t seem to please him as his scowl returns and he lets go of your chin. “Fine…” Finn huffs before abruptly getting up and marching out of the cell, slamming the door behind him.

You felt… bad, an uncomfortable, heavy feeling churning in your stomach. Finn was good to you. He visited you often and brought you all sorts of things, books, small treats, things to make your small abode a little more comfortable. That was what it was, not a cell, an abode. Someone had murdered your father that night and as the last heirs to the throne you and your older sister had to be protected at all costs. Kept somewhere only few knew, kept separate so that if one befell something the other would remain alive. That is what Finn had explained to you, in time you and Snow White would become of age and until then your stepmother would rule.

It made sense. Despite the grievance of not being allowed to see your sister you knew there was something greater at stake. Snow would make a good queen, she was kind yet righteous, strong too. Even as children you had known, everyone knew. It left you on the sidelines but you didn’t mind. In time you’d secure an alliance through marriage, benefit the kingdom in your own way.

Finn knew it too, he saw you for what you were. Less headstrong than your sister, softer, malleable. To keep the sympathy of the people Ravenna had decided to keep the sisters alive. Yet this forced sympathy did not last long, as no news of the princesses left the castle. No one had seen either of you, no proof of your death but none of your survival either. It was Ravenna who had first sent her brother to you, ordered him to keep you in good spirits, to feed you sweet lies. When you’d be of age you’d make your reappearance to the public, a wedding would surely regain their sympathies. Especially one with the brother of the reigning queen.

Finn could get close, convince you to give up your title as heir and take up being a mother instead. Snow would be done away with quietly, succumbed to ‘illness’, none would be any wiser.

In the evening Finn returned to you, unsuccessful. Snow had fled into the Dark Forest with some measly hunter. His company could not pursue on horseback and soon the untrustworthy terrain and toxic gasses had forced them to retaliate. He was angry, you could tell, though disappointed in himself as well. He preferred not to disappoint his sister. “You did what you could, I’m certain. If you had pursued you would’ve lost good men.” You try softly as he starts his relentless pacing once more.

The frustration still clear on his face makes you stand and gently grasp his sleeve. “You did good, Finn-“ you whisper which makes his head snap your way. For a moment he just silently observes you, after which he turns towards you fully. “I’m certain Snow will see reason, you were trying to protect her. She’s just always been headstrong.”

He does not speak but instead gently grasps you by the elbow as he steps closer. Compared to his sister you had this deep, unarguable kindness. Choosing to see the light in every situation, no matter how dark. “You’re too kind… I should’ve followed on foot.” He mutters with a frown, his frustration mostly pointed at himself. He sighs and leans closer, the hand still holding you gently pulling you in. This happened often, when he had had a rough day he would return to your abode for comfort, simply wishing to speak about his day while you listened in earnest. When you got older you would stroke his hair as he spoke, it seemed to soothe him greatly, every lingering touch did.

Ravenna might have sent him to win you over with time but in turn you had also left your mark on him.

“Do not beat yourself up over it. I’m certain you will figure it out, you’re clever.” You whisper with a warm smile and let him pull you into an embrace. His arms tighten around you and he clings to your body like a drowning man. His face buries in your hair before he takes a deep breath that sends a shiver down your spine. He’s desperate, you’ve never seen him act this way, never this brazen in the way he touched.

It was not like it did not please you, on the contrary, you had often hoped a time like this would come. It made sense in your mind, both siblings to the respective heirs, an alliance would only be natural. You had just thought he’d find you too young, too naive perhaps. Yet when his face tilts down and his lips graze your neck all those doubts melt away in an instant.

A whimper escapes your lips and his hold on you tightens. His breath fans over your neck and you realize his breathing is quick and shallow while his hands have started to mindlessly roam your form, squeezing and feeling every curve on their way. “Finn-?” You whisper his name and he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. “You’re soft.” He groans as his hand gives your hip a soft squeeze. “I should not have kept myself from you for so long.”

Despite the possessive tone in his voice something in your belly flutters. “Ravenna wishes it, a union. The peasant folk would be happy to see their princess.” He now murmurs as he nips at the shell of your ear. “Though I cannot deny that my heart has greatly desired you.” He whispers lowly. His hand comes up to grasp your hair and tilt your head back so his lips can find the skin of your neck once more. The softest whine escapes your lips, making the way his loins stir undeniable to either of you. After a few sloppy kisses, dripping with need, he whispers against your skin. “Do you desire me?”

A shaky nod is all you manage. The hand he still had in your hair lets go and instead starts to stroke your hair in a possessive way. After a moment he seems to have made up his mind as he suddenly lets go completely and turns to the door. “Come.” He instructs while offering his hand.

You hardly believe that after so long you still hesitate, your abode was a safety you’d now discard in exchange for another. Finn was still your protector after all, so you grasp his hand and allow him to pull you through the hallways of the castle. Everything felt foreign and familiar at the same time. Servants ducked their heads when Finn passed them yet cast curious glances at you. Soon you’re pulled through a door and into the personal living quarters of Finn himself.

“This is where you’ll stay from now on.” He explains while idly gesturing around. “You’ll not leave, not even when I do. The room is guarded at all times so you’ll be safe here. I’ll ensure your things will be brought here as well, should you wish to have them again.” He steps closer again. “If you are to be mine you deserve finery. There’s a bath you may use, I will have fresh gowns brought… and supper.”

“That’s-… thank you.” You say as you’re still processing the sudden changes. The idea of a warm bath was most alluring right now. “Finn-? Am I truly to be yours?” You cannot help but ask, you needed confirmation just to be certain. “Yes, I’ll make you a wife, my wife.” He confirms with a nod while he gently strokes your cheek with his knuckles. “Now, I’ll ensure a chambermaid is sent to prepare your bath. In the meantime I have to attend to my duties, making sure your sister is brought back safely. Stay here, I’ll rejoin you after supper.”

You nod and thank him again before pressing a sweet kiss on his cheek. “I’ll wait for you.” You promise. Finn nods before taking his leave, yet when he’s striding down the hallway he can’t help but reach up, letting his fingers touch where your lips met his skin moments before.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ݁. ˖ ݁. ⊹₊ ݁.

Finn stays true to his word as indeed a girl comes to prepare a bath. Once you’ve thoroughly cleaned yourself the same girl helps you into a lovely, clean gown. After that comes supper and when you’ve eaten your fill you feel much better than you had in a long while. Clean, warm and full.

While awaiting Finn’s return you pick up a book from his vast collection and sit in the windowseat. From here you had a view of the entire courtyard. You can see exactly who comes and goes. The attention on your book is soon lost as you look through the window with great interest instead. Eventually you spot a distinct and familiar head of white hair, riding in on a horse together with a small company. With the way he dismounts and strides back inside the castle you’re guessing another unsuccessful attempt to return Snow White.

You don’t get much time to ponder it through as soon the door swings open with a loud thud. Finn looks around his chambers before his eyes land on you, still in the windowseat, in a gown befitting royalty of your status. He pauses momentarily before continuing his way to you. With a rough tug you’re on your feet, chest pressed against his while his hands eagerly explore once more. However, he does not keep it at just exploratory grasps. Instead his hands fist into the fabric of your skirts, hoisting them up until one of them managed to slip beneath the fabric and grasps your bare thigh.

You let out a gasp and pull back slightly to look at his face. He looks desperate, possessive and frustrated all at once. His pupils blown in a way that make his eyes appear more like blackened mirrors. “Let me, please my dearest, let me have you.” He practically pants, earning a nod from you. “O-okay.”

Without hesitation his fingers travel higher up your thigh and pulled aside your breeches with ease. Your own hands grasp his shoulders while he feels around. You’re hardly aroused yet so his hand slips out from under your skirts. He quickly sucks on his own two fingers before returning his hand, this time prodding around before slipping a moistened finger into your core. He cared little for gentle caresses, that would come later, right now he was too caught up with getting inside as soon as your body would allow it.

Another finger sinks into your heat and Finn lets out a low moan as if he was already sinking inside you himself. His finger starts a rough and quick pace, earning all sorts of whimpers from you. “S-slow down.” You manage to stutter. Reluctantly he obliges, though his thumb does start to nudge your bud in a way that makes your knees buckle. The arm he has circled around your waist keeps you upright and steady against him. “You can take another, I’m certain.” He mutters while pressing a third finger into your core.

When your body has finally eased into it and you’re getting slicker a triumphant smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Tired of waiting he pulls out his fingers, earning another gasp from your lips. Quickly he guides you back to sit in the windowseat as he hoists up your skirts more until they’re bunched around your hips. “Hold them.” He commands before he starts to impatiently tug at the laces of his pants. Your eyes lock onto the way the fabric is straining with need. Swiftly he manages to pull himself free. Unabashedly he spits in his palm before rubbing it up his length a few times. When he catches you staring a small grin forms on his, usually serious, face.

He steps closer between your thighs and guides himself to your weeping core. His free hand grips your hips as he guides himself inside with a single thrust. He lets out a sharp hiss before checking your face for any signs of discomfort. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your teeth biting down on your lip so hard it threatens to bleed. A slight hint of guilt settles in his conscious, causing him to lean down and press a soft kiss to your temple. “Next time I shall take my time with you.” He promises with a soft whisper.

His hips inch forward to test the waters. To his surprise a muffled whine graces his ears instead of a whimper of pain he had expected. Your hands slowly trial up his chest before wrapping your arms around his neck and Finn takes it as a sign to start moving. His steady thrusts soon turn into passionate rutting. He clearly needed this. The hands he had on your hips firmly grasp your rear instead, allowing him to pull himself deeper inside until his cock knocks against your cervix like a battering ram.

One hand momentarily lets go, only to pull down the front of your gown, allowing your breasts to spill free. He looks entranced, utterly possessed by the feeling of your warm walls enveloping him. All you can do is hold on to him as his face dips down to kiss the valley of your breasts.

The sheer need behind his every action makes your head feel fuzzy and warm, a warmth that swirls and coils in your lower belly also. The more sounds you make the needier he becomes, causing him to reach between the both of you and use two rough digits to rub your clit with a fervency that could almost be mistaken for violence. Within moments a wave hits you and your entire being clamps down around him, nails dig into the back of his neck as your walls tighten as if they wished to trap him inside for eternity. Your response is just what he needed to push him over the edge as he spills himself inside with a harsh grunt.

His hips stutter as he thrusts inside a few more times before a second wave of release hits him, surprising both you and himself. For a while he remains inside, holding you as he catches his breath. Your fingers have slowly come to run through his hair again.

When his high has settled a little he slips out of you with a reluctant huff before lifting you and carrying you to his bed. He is surprisingly adept in undressing you, taking off your gown to leave you in a light shift before undressing himself and pulling on a simple, clean shirt. He slips into bed beside you and pulls you to his chest with a content sigh. You cuddle up against his chest a bit more and get comfortable yourself. “Are you sore-?” He murmurs after a moment. “A little.” You answer honestly. “Tomorrow I’ll take my time, have you properly.” He promises softly as he kisses your temple.

⟡ Notes - Love a bitch w a bad bob

[soggy-castlewalls]

⟡ God of the forest ⟡

✦ Summary - You get sacrificed to the god of the forest, who happens to be less bestial then you initially thought

⟡ Semi-feral Halsin x reader

✦ Content - AU where Halsin basically stayed in wild shape for so long he accidentally became a local god, this one is kinda long oops - Warnings - MDNI, slight mention of death (if you squint), you’re the sacrifice, virgin reader, age gap, oral (r receiving), smut p-in-v, fingering, unprotected sex

This week it was the eldest lad from the one of the loggers, last week the youngest of the alderman. ‘Bad luck’ some called it but the elderly women whispered of misfortune, of having upset the good will of our god. We had been greedy, offered too little. Now our god, who had been watching over our hunts and our loggers was upset with us. That’s why the children got sickly, why the finest trees meant for cutting now suddenly grew rot and why the only animals our hunters caught barely had any meat on their bones.

This time no bread, fruits nor beer could satisfy as offerings. Something grander had to be brought to the old stone circle in the forest.

The eldest women all gathered at the alderman’s house for an entire day and night. In the morning a decision was made. Like had been done numerous decades before, when the oldest woman was still a girl clinging to her mother’s skirts, they’d send a gift that would certainly please the god of the forest. A gift that would ensure more bountiful hunts and drive the sickness from our trees and children.

The next morning they stepped back out and as the village awaited their decision they appointed you. As your breath caught it was as if the others let out a joined sigh of relief, their loved ones would be safe. You knew why you were chosen, no father and a mother who barely looked at you. A roast pig would be a lousy offering as it could feed the entire village for days. One less mouth to feed wouldn’t be a bother to anyone, especially since you mostly kept to yourself. You wouldn’t be missed, not truly, and that is why you were a perfect choice.

The preparations were made swiftly as everyone felt like they couldn’t spare much more time, not after the death of the alderman’s youngest.

One of the elderly ladies, the one who taught the younger women midwifery, came to your home to speak with your mother. She asked about your virtue, the god of the forest would prefer a wife unspoiled. Your mother confirmed you had not been promised to any of the boys yet. You yourself knew that meant little, girls around your age whispered about sneaking off all the time. Luckily the older woman believed it when you explained that truly none of the village boys had cared to chase after your skirts yet.

That evening you’re dressed in a simple white dress, it was quite pretty, like the kind you got to wear during summer feasts. A garland of flowers placed on your head in the same colors as the braid of cloth tied around your waist. Buttercups, poppies and cornflowers. You had never felt so special before and couldn’t help the smallest smile from forming before you were reminded of the situation.

The whole village had gathered by now and the gathering crowd murmured softly as you were led by hand to the stone trail leading away from the village, towards the deeper parts of the forest. You could hear your mother sniffling quietly. You could also hear the other girls your age giggle behind their hand, glad it wasn’t them walking out of the village on their bare feet.

You tried to look back over your shoulder but the old woman quietly tugged you along. You walked with her for a while as the setting sun colored the sky in hues of gold, orange and red. Eventually you two arrive at a broken circle of old stone. In the trees and bushes surrounding the circle were ribbons tied of the same colors as the cloth around your waist. Empty bowls sat on the small altar in the middle.

The old woman quietly moves some of the old bowls aside and gestures for you to sit, to which you oblige. “You’re very good-“ she murmurs softly as she tucks some hair behind your ear “-very pretty.” A shy smile curls your lips as you lower your gaze. “After tonight… when can I come back?” You ask softly and the woman gives you a pitiful look before shaking her head. “You must sit and stay, be very brave. You’ll be a good wife.” She instructs before turning and shuffling away, leaving you alone as the sun slowly disappears behind the tree line. A wife? Her words ring through your head. You were to be a wife?

Crickets chirp in heaps and every now and then you have to swat away an annoying mosquito, you quietly kick your legs and wait while thinking over the word of the old woman again and again. Then you hear it.

Nothing

The crickets have stopped, you didn’t even notice when exactly they had stopped until you missed the comforting sound. Then a soft rustling in the bushes behind you, the sound of something large sniffing and pawing through the empty bowls scattered around the altar. It moves slowly, in a heavy yet strong way as the creature slowly makes its way around the altar to look at you.

You quietly curse your body and mind for freezing up instead of fleeing when your eyes meet with the largest bear you’ve ever witnessed. Nothing you knew came even close to this beast. As you stare it observes you in turn. After a long moment of just staring at each other the snout of the beast comes closer and presses against your knee before taking a deep breath in. You look down in fear, wondering if this is where you’d meet your end, in the jaws of some bear-god. However, the beast seems to care little about eating you. Instead he steps back and starts slowly moving away from the circle, only to look back with something almost like expectancy in its eyes. It catches you so off guard that you do not dare move, you must’ve imagined it.

When you stay very still the beast turns back and this time moves closer, his snout almost leaning into your lap. Your muscles finally unfreeze and you attempt to scramble back before its jaws close around one of the loose hanging ends of your colored cincture. The beast now gently moves back once more, dragging you off the altar by your cincture after which it once again starts walking away from the stone circle and into the forest. This time with you following, still slightly in a shocked state over how this bear just showed such a sign of clear intent or thought.

You follow quietly until you finally find yourself in front of a cave. The entrance quite low but the bear manages to fit and soon looks at you to follow. Inside it was more spacious. Furs draped on the floor made for a softer feeling beneath your feet, furs that had been tanned by human hands. Perhaps they too had been offerings? In the corner laid the actual bed, a pile of leaf litter, twigs, heaps of moss and other such materials. All of it covered with another one of the unusual pelts.

As you were still inspecting the den, the bear was rummaging through some more bowls and pots in another corner, very similar to the ones strewn about around the altar. After a moment he finds an apple and gently takes it into his mouth before returning and dropping it at your feet. “For me?” You whisper softly but the bear just stares expectantly. You slowly lean down, not wanting to make any sudden moves in case you had misinterpreted. When you pick up the apple the bear looks slightly satisfied, especially when you take a small bite.

After another bite you look at the bear again, the old woman’s words ringing in your head without pause. “Thank you, husband.” You whisper and for a moment you almost imagine spotting a hint of surprise on the large bear’s face.

By now the sun had set and darkness and cold slowly settled into the cave. The bear was more than happy to chomp down on your apple core once you finished eating, after which he sauntered to the large bed and laid down with a tired groan. The branches crunched beneath his weight and after a moment he rolled over onto his side. With a paw he patted the space beside him on the pelts. At this rate you could no longer tell yourself you imagined it and you obey, laying down onto the furs beside him.

You lay still for a moment until the large paws slowly curl around you and you’re pulled into his large, furry chest. His snout nestles into the crook of your neck where he lets out something between a sigh and a groan. Soon his breathing evens out and he’s fallen asleep. For a while longer you listen to the sounds of the forest at night, the soft breathing against your back like a bellow. Sleep finds you too eventually and despite your situation it feels safe.

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Most of the following days are spent learning his routine. In the morning you both stroll to the river where you can bathe and he can drink. Then you go on the long stroll that makes up most of the morning and noon. Patrolling the forest and foraging for food. Luckily it was blackberry season so you both get a sweet treat. The patrol always ends at the old, stone circle. It every second day some offerings are laid out, bread, some beer, apples. Your favorite is when there’s something special baked, like the savory meat pies that are left on rare occasions.

Your new life, though unusual, wasn’t bad by any means. Your husband was good to you, gentle in his own way. During long walks you had figured out that he wished you to ride on his back so your feet would not get tired, in turn you’d make sure no ticks or bramble thorns got nestled into his skin. You both looked out for each other in the ways you could.

However, during the latest nights you had noticed unusual things about your new husband. There were times at which you had thought to have heard whispers from him. Once in your sleep addled mind you had imagined a hand upon your waist instead of the usual warm paw. Though usually you brushed it off, you had lived so long among people, and this in itself was such an unusual situation, you could image your mind trying to make sense of it all.

This night, unlike many others, sleep did not find you easily. The more you tried the harder it became to sink into a slumber like usual. You keep your eyes closed and mind your breathing, behind you your husband shifts and let’s out a soft groan. He could not sleep either it seemed. The bed below you rustles as he tries to part from you as quietly as a bear of his size was capable of. It wasn’t unusual for him to wake late to relieve himself, what was unusual on the other hand was the quiet way something else snuck back into the den moments later.

Your husband was large and you did not need to open your eyes to hear him move about. What met your ears now were quiet footsteps, in an instant your eyes are wide open as you look for the intruder. A man with a large build was walking right towards you. Still in the bed you were cornered, you realize now. Dear gods he was completely bare, when he steps closer to the bed you quickly scramble up and press back against the cold walls of the den.

The man’s eyes widen just as much as yours. He looks genuinely surprised and raises his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Wife, it is me.” He mutters after a moment of thinking, his voice gravelly and rough.

You quickly shake your head. “I don’t know you-!” You blurt out as you press back more against the cold wall. The man—or rather, elf— you notice now, has a slightly worried look in his eyes perhaps even a hint of pain which he tries to conceal behind a calm facade. He carefully kneels on the furs before you. “You know me, wife…” He tries again, letting the words linger while making no attempt to move closer.

You study him in the dark of the den and after a moment you squint and lean closer. The thin scars on the side of his face are familiar to you, you noticed them on your husband while removing a tick from his ear once. “But that’s impossible-?” You whisper softly and the elf smiles. “Is it? On the first night I gave you an apple, you called me husband then. I thought that was impossible then too. That something so soft could be a wife to a beast.” He murmurs with a small smile.

It was only something he could know, this elf and the bear were one of the same. While you’re still wondering how your hand slowly reaches out to touch the scar. His hand slowly comes up to take yours and his thumb brushes your knuckles. “I thought a quiet entrance would let you remain asleep, I did not mean to frighten you.” He explains softly.

Meanwhile your eyes are still darting over his body. He was large, truly a bear of a man, despite the irony no other words would do justice. Strong too, his build was more than impressive. “Let me look at you, in the light, I mean.” You whisper as you grasp his hand in turn and lead him closer to the entrance of the den. The little amount of moonlight let through illuminates his face a little more. A strong jaw and a serious face but with gentle eyes. A warm brown that has not changed. Of note is the tattoo on the side of his face, red swirls and arches that seem to follow down his neck as well. He’s actually very handsome now that you get a close look at him.

“Does it suffice-?” He jokes softly in an attempt to break the tension. You can’t help but smile a little. “Well, until moments ago I had no idea there was more to you than the bear-“ you murmur in turn. “Why not tell me?”

He turns away and looks almost… ashamed? “It has been… very long since I last walked on two feet. Decades perhaps. After a while you forget how. To be one with nature is a blessing… but then you.” He explains. “You spoke to me, called me husband. Spoke with me, felt the need to bathe and clean out the den every once in a while. So very human in many ways that I had forgotten. I did not yearn to walk around as a man again but my body remembered, changed without my will when I dreamt of you.”

You listen as he talks. In a way it made sense. This life you had been living with him so far was peaceful, simple even. You hadn’t felt so unburdened in a long time. There was one thing that still irked you though. “What of the offerings? Did they work?”

He raises a brow. “Work for what?” He asks now with a confused look. “The… god of the forest? You know… you look after the village?”

He looks even more confused now. “Those offerings were for me?… I just did not want to let them go to waste. Thought I’d better bring you back too before you’d catch a cold.” He admits before looking you over. “That explains a lot.” Now it is your turn to look confused. “So there is no forest god?” He shakes his head. “I do care for the forest, every now and then I lead a hunter back to the path… but I am no god-“

“I see-“ you whisper as you let it sink in. You’re being hit by one twist after another. Your husband is a bear, except not truly since he is an elf and he is also not the god you thought existed all your life.

“Are you alright?” He asks after a moment, his hand hesitantly reaching out to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod quietly before looking at him again. “Do you have a name?” You ask now while realizing how silly that must sound. He smiles however, a warm smile. “Right, yes. It is Halsin. So far you’ve only even called me ‘husband’, though I liked the sound of that too.” Halsin says. He knew your name already, you had told him once during the evening. While whispering soft rambles into his fur, up to then you had also only ever been ‘wife’ to him so you thought it would make sense he’d at least know your name.

“Halsin.” You repeat it to yourself to get a feel of it. He nods with a growing smile. “It sounds good when you say it.” He admits.

You smile in turn before a small shiver runs up your spine. Being without his warmth makes the chill of the night ever present as it seeps right through your light dress. “Are you cold? We could return to bed.“ Halsin offers and you nod. “Yes, that sounds good right now.”

You allow him to lead you back to bed. He’s still bare but you can’t find it in yourself to mind. “Can you stay like this for a while? I like seeing you, speaking with you.” You whisper while laying down with him and pulling yourself closer to his chest. It was both familiar and new. Most importantly he was still so warm, almost unnaturally so. Halsin nods. “Very well, I shall.” He agrees while his arms wrap around you.

He soon drifts off and you attempt to do the same but you concur that sleep has completely vanished from you tonight. Instead your mind is preoccupied with your husband in his newest form. Your hand quietly trails through the hair on his chest while you shamelessly stare at every inch of him. A soft fluttering awakens within your belly, one that’s slowly replaced with a blossoming heat which makes your thighs clench ever so slightly. A heat that only grows the more you look over his impressive physique.

Halsin, nearly drifting into a deep sleep, is once again wide awake when the scent hits him. Arousal, sweet and warm. He doubted you even knew how good you smelled, or how quickly it affected him. He swallows hard before whispering your name. “Can’t sleep?” He whispers and you shake your head.

A small smile forms on his lips as your hand still trails over his chest. His own slowly making its way up and down your back. His head slowly dips down until he’s inhaling your scent with deep breaths. His lips brushing against your shoulder. “This form… it gives me more freedom to hold you, to touch you.” He murmurs against your skin. A shaky exhale escapes you before you reply. “That’s good… I want you to.”

A soft groan vibrates against your skin and his large hand grasps your hip. Something twitches between you both and you can feel his need for you against your thigh.

“Halsin-?” You gasp softly as he slowly rolls you onto your back. “I fear a greatly desire you.” He murmurs before leaning down to kiss your lips. You quickly melt into the kiss and you part your thighs for him. Instead of just taking he kisses your neck, your collar bones, down to the valley of your breasts. His hands sliding under the white fabric of your dress. He looks up at you for permission and you quickly sit up to help take off the garment.

He gives you little time to feel exposed as he guides you back down to continue the kisses down your body. His hand gently cups a breast but he pays them little mind, clearly another goal in mind entirely. “Let me taste you-?” He groans softly as your thighs part once more. The scent hits his nose in full now, it makes him almost dizzy as he licks the slight wetness from your inner thigh. His breath ghosts over your core, after which he presses a rough kiss to the curls just above your mound.

Both of his large hands hold your thighs open as he dips his head once more, a long lick through your folds draws a whimper from your lips. Your hand quickly tangling in his hair as it doesn’t stay at just one lick. Instead he buries himself like a man starved. Tongue lapping as his teeth graze your bud. He had almost forgotten the taste of a woman but now that he had found it once more he was hooked.

You whine and squirm in his grip, gone too long without knowing how good it could feel. A rough digit slides between your folds and pushes in, soon followed by another as you’re stretched deliciously. You whimper his name like a prayer, over and over again while you maintain a tight grip on his hair.

Finally he manages to tear himself away, a third finger roughly bullying your hole as he looks up at your face. His chin still glistens and his fingers don’t seem to slow down as he observes how sweet you look.

“I need you-“ He groans softly with a hint of desperation and when you manage to look down you can see just how hard he is, to a point where it looks almost painful. With a shaky movement you nod. “P-please.” You manage to stutter as he finally withdraws his fingers. He quickly sucks them clean with a satisfied grumble before aligning himself with your entrance.

He’s big, really big, he realizes it himself as well. So he starts off by coating himself in your wetness slowly. Letting his length slide through your fold a few times before finally returning to your entrance. His head gently nudging at it before slowly pushing in the tip. Just with the tip he slowly rocks back and forth, pushing in just a little further with each movement. “You’re doing well… Does it hurt?” He asks softly. To your surprise it only ached ever so slightly, he was gentle which helped a lot. “Only a little but not too badly.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want you to be in pain.” He says while studying every day minute detail on your face as he slowly rocks deeper until he is finally fully sheathed. The fullness is incredible, pressing deep against your womb while his balls rest against the curve of your ass. Halsin’s body feels like a coiled spring and he does everything in his power to restrain himself. He needs this to be good, not fast. So he slowly moves, leaning over you all the while. His hand holds your hip while the other is planted beside your head. Your own having found purchase on his back where they dig into the solid muscle of his back.

Your body has adjusted and you’re starting to crave more of what he can give you. “F-faster-?” You ask softly and he immediately complies. The den fills with the wet squelching noises and the moans that escape you both. Halsin sounds more like a feral creature, growls and grunts leave his lips at every thrust. His head dips lower until he’s groaning against your shoulder. He grip on your hips tightening as he pulls you down on him faster and harder.

The way he’s almost desperate to have you makes the feeling in your lower belly grow exponentially until your nails dig into his back and your eyes squeeze shut. Before you can voice what is happening a high pitched whine leaves you. Halsin feels your walls squeezing tightly around him and he ruts like a wild animal until he too finds his release. You can feel the spill inside you and he doesn’t pull out yet, instead keeping himself lodged within you snugly.

He turns onto his side and pulls you against his chest. As you both regain your breathing he rubs your back in soothing circles. “You feel perfect… in every way-“ He murmurs into your hair, causing you to smile. You snuggle closer to his chest, still sticky with sweat. “I’m glad you’re more than a bear… you should have me like this more often.” You murmur with a blissful look. Halsin chuckles. “Well of course, you really didn’t think I was done with you already?”

⟡ Notes - I had to do research on bears because they don’t really live where I’m from AND BEARS MAKE BEDS?? 😭💕 SO CUTE

[soggy-castlewalls]

⟡ Honeyed words (Pt. 2) ⟡

✦ Summary - Spending the day with Beesbury :)

⟡ Humfrey Beesbury x Baratheon!reader

✦ Content - Reader is Lyonel’s sister, fluff- Warnings - kissing, Humfrey cockblocking himself, not proofread

Part 1 - ↓

💬 2  🔁 3  ❤️ 13 · ⟡ Honeyed words ⟡ · ✦ Summary - Your brother brings you along to the tourney at Ashford meadow, where you meet a man with

Long after the guests had departed the Baratheon pavilion you had found yourself sideways in Humfrey’s lap, his arm steady around your waist while he rested his eyes. With your ear pressed against his chest you could hear the faint thumping of his heart, only interrupted by a much louder thud when Lyonel started scrambling off the floor.

Somewhere late at night he had sat—or rather fallen— down against the leg of one of the tables and promptly fallen asleep. Now, with the guests gone and the fires burned out, the pavilion was growing cold. Now with a slight chill seeping into his bones he had roused from slumber and grumbled while getting up, still half drunk and accidentally pushing over a bench in the process.

Still in a twilight state between sleep and waking you noticed the chill too, but more prominent was the warmth of the firm chest you were still resting against. You let your eyes flutter shut, however it seemed that Humfrey had awoken too. With slow, quiet movements his hand slips under both your knees while his other grips your waist a little tighter. Carefully he lifts you from his lap and stands, following after the stumbling Lyonel to the tent adjacent to the pavilion.

Soon you’re met with familiar sheets as you’re tucked in. The comfortable warmth quickly lulling you back to sleep as Humfrey attempts to take his leave. He doesn’t get far though as he’s soon stopped by Lyonel who sits on the edge of his own bed. The last things you catch before drifting off are quiet words exchanged between Lyonel and Humfrey, though you’re too tired to catch their meaning.

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The first thing that wakes you are the sounds of the tourney grounds, the canvas of the tent didn’t serve any good against the noises outside. By the way the sun was casting shadows and slowly warming the air around you, you deducted it was most likely close to noon already. As you slowly sit up you can still hear the soft snores coming from the bed on the other side of the tent. Lyonel still laid sprawled out on his own bed, a hand clasped over his face.

He would certainly wake with a headache as he had most days of the tourney so far. A slight throbbing in your temple foreboded a similar, yet less severe, fate for yourself.

That afternoon you indeed regret not drinking anything besides mead the night before as you sit in the sun, watching your brother participate in all sorts of games organized for the tourney. When he got as riled up as he did he reminds you more of a boy than a man. Of course he already had another cup to his lips as well, which made you glad you at least managed to persuade him to drink some juice before stepping out of the pavilion.

While watching, you hardly notice another onlooker taking a seat beside you until you hear the familiar voice. “Did you rest well, my lady?”

Your head whips around and a smile tugs at your lips. “Very much so, thanks to you, ser.” You answer Humfrey with a look which is both a mix of gratitude and bashfulness. You had perhaps let yourself go a little last night but it had been very much to your enjoyment. In turn Humfrey nods with a smile mirroring your own before watching the games as well.

His thumbs twirled in a slightly nervous fashion however and after a while he dares speak again. “I spoke with your brother, last night-“ he starts off, the way he talks gives away how carefully he is picking his words. “You are… not yet betrothed?” Humfrey then asks, trying to make it sound like casual interest.

You turn to look at him once more. “No, I am not.” You confirm without saying much else as you wished to see where he’d go with this, though you had a strong hunch.

“Any man would be very lucky to have you…” Humfrey admits softly. Your lips part to thank him but before you can he continues. “I would be very lucky to have you, if you’d allow me. I cannot deny that I was perhaps inebriated but no less taken by you last night. To take you to wife, to return with you to Honeyholt, would be the greatest honor.”

A short silence falls as you take in his words, clearly spoken from the heart. His thumbs still twirl aimlessly as he quietly averts his gaze to the games, finding it easier than to wait in quiet uncertainty for your answer.

Your hand finds his and his thumbs finally seize their incessant fidgeting. “I would be very lucky to have you as well, ser.” You say softly with a small smile. It’s like he instantly eases at your soft answer, his shoulders growing less tense while his brow unfurrows. “Though, you are aware you must ask my father as well? My brother, ever-present as he may be, does not dictate to whom my hand is given.” You joke softly to ease the atmosphere a little. Humfrey musters a small laugh at that. “I am aware, but I wished to discuss it with you personally first.”

You can’t help but smile and scoot a little closer, Humfrey rests his arm on the table behind you, just proper enough for a public setting, though the seven know he would pull you closer if he could. “Courtship too, a proper courtship-“ he murmurs as he leans a little closer. “I intend to win the tourney, name you queen of Love and Beauty… a proper gesture-“

A warmth rises to your cheeks. You had had to beg to even be brought along to the tourney in the first place but now a chance of being granted such a title, it seemed surreal. Humfrey notices your blush and gently tilts your chin back up with a single finger. “If anyone here lives up to the title it is most certainly you-“

A spell of shyness overcomes you, though it is cut short by a boisterous laugh. “Is this man bothering you, sister?” Lyonel walks up to you both with a grin. “Beesbury-! Help me out, yeah, shove those golden Tyrell boys into the mud?” He asks with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Humfrey laughs in turn. “I think I’ll sit this one out, if you don’t mind?” His answer makes Lyonel roll his eyes before realization hits. He looks you both over and wiggles his brow. “I see, I see. Very well then, leave me to fend for myself.” Your brother says with a grin and a wink.

Before he can turn to leave you perk up. “Lyonel-! Can spend the day with ser Humfrey?” You blurt out which only amused both men more. “Alright-“ Lyonel says after thinking a moment. “-But no funny business.” He says while pointing at both of you before walking off.

So the remainder of the day you do exactly that, you spend it with Humfrey.

You allow him to guide you across the tourney grounds, your hand resting in the crook of his arm. Watching the games hosted for the tourney, a performance in the puppeteers tent and being treated to sweet berry tarts. You stick close to his side and eventually you both end up on the hill overlooking Ashford Meadow, seated in the soft grass, still clasping his arm.

“This is nice-“ You whisper softly while Humfrey gently grasps your hand and places a soft kiss on your knuckle, his mustache slightly tickling the skin. “Indeed-“ He agrees softly. The gentle kiss reminds you of the night before. “Humfrey?… would you, kiss me again?”

He looks to you for a moment, just enough that your mind starts to think for itself. Was it too soon? Little did you know he was just admiring how pretty you looked in the fading light before leaning down to kiss your lips. When you ease into the kiss his hand cups your cheek and as he pulls back for a moment the man looks absolutely smitten.

His eyes pool with something akin to worship and when you pull him in once more he carefully lays you back in the grass. His hand finding purchase on your waist as your own fingers tangle into his dark locks. It is like he has been starved from something he was not yet aware he needed until perhaps the evening before. After pressing a few more desperate kisses to your lips he travels lower. His mustache brushing your jaw as he peppers kisses down to your neck. You cannot keep a soft giggle from escaping as the course hair tickles your skin which in turn seems to slightly take Humfrey out of his initial hunger.

His mouth closing before he can do something rash like nip at your skin and leave a mark. He wouldn’t dare sully your good name nor face the wrath of the Laughing Storm if he were to bring you back in anything less than pristine condition. “The sun is setting.” Humfrey notes after finding his senses. “I should escort you back to your brother’s pavilion.” You have a slight look of disappointment on your face and slowly toy with his hair while pretending to be in deep thought. “Very well-“ You reluctantly agree. “But you must promise you’ll spend the day with me again tomorrow?”

Humfrey chuckles and nods. “I wouldn’t wish for anything else-“

⟡ Notes - I genuinely do think that Lyonel and Humfrey had a lot of friend potential if Humfrey didn’t get merc’d during the trial and Lyonel wasn’t so busy trying to climb that mountain of a man (can’t blame him tho)

Also how on earth do people make such clean links to other parts? Is that just not a thing on mobile??

[soggy-castlewalls]

⟡ Honeyed words ⟡

✦ Summary - Your brother brings you along to the tourney at Ashford meadow, where you meet a man with a very peculiar mustache

⟡ Humfrey Beesbury x Baratheon!reader

✦ Warnings - drinking, some kisses but mostly fluff, not proofread

You laughed before bringing your goblet to your lips once more. Your brother was spouting on about about another ‘profound thought’ or so he called it. His boisterous voice easily recognizable over the chatter.

While talking he filled your goblet once more, you had not yet started drinking ale along with him, instead settling for a mead. Even if you tried you couldn’t keep up with Lyonel’s drinking but you had plenty of fun trying.

The ambiance in the pavilion was merrier than any great feasting hall could wish to be. The heavy scents of roast meat, ale, woodsmoke and tallow from the many candles tingled in your nose. Laughter could be heard and many of your brother’s guests chatted happily while eating their fill.

You yourself had already finished your dinner and were now savoring bites of some pastry with sweet custard. As Lyonel turns to you he has a playful twinkle in his eyes. “After we eat, we dance.” He says with a wide grin before refilling his own cup with a rich, dark ale. You nod in excitement and finish the last of your pastry.

At last the guests have finished eating and the large tables are pushed aside to free the floor. The minstrels change the tune they were playing to a happier one with a quicker pace.

Lyonel playfully prods your side and points to a man who clambers onto one of the tables before jumping off with a flashy move and downing his tankard in one swing. “Humfrey Beesbury-“ he explains “-broke twelve lances today while facing Hardyng.” He says while leaning closer. “He was unhorsed in the end however.” As Lyonel talks you take a closer look at the man, who was now dancing with a woman. “Still, it’s impressive.” You note softly. “Aye, spectacle of the day.” Lyonel agrees.

After another moment of watching the guests dance and drinking from your goblet you watch Lyonel slap his knees decisively before getting up. Hé sways for but a moment before offering a hand. “Sister?” He asks with a grin. When you grasp it and let him help you to your feet you feel the dizzying rush of alcohol rise to your head as well and you can’t help but laugh softly.

You two make it to the small crowd of dancing guests and join in once you’ve found your footing. Lyonel’s grin is wide as he spins and spins you around before he continues to dance with other guests. You didn’t mind though, you passed from one dancing partner to another. The tune certainly allowed it and the drink made you bolder and merry. You grasp the hand of another man and allow him to twirl you. The soft laughter escapes your lips again, you feel warm and you lean a little closer to your dance partner. “Black and yellow look good on you, my lady.” He tells you over the sound of music and the chatter of guests. You laugh and thank him before noticing the mustache, a warm amber color, much unlike the dark locks sprouting from his scalp. “Beesbury-?” You speak before thinking.

Humfrey chuckles softly at the surprise in your voice and nods. “Yes, though I believe we have not yet been introduced?” He asks while twirling you once more. “No, but my brother did mention you, ser.” You answer while softly shaking your head. “Your brother?” He asks with slightly furrowed brow as he thinks, you could see the pieces falling into place as he puts two and two together. “Oh, oh… I see-“ He thinks aloud as his eyes widen ever so slightly before glancing over at Lyonel, who seemed to be preoccupied, dancing with a notably tall man.

The young man looks you over once more. A lady dressed in black and yellow fabrics, in the Baratheon pavilion. It couldn’t be more obvious, clearly the drink had addled with his mind too.

As you observe his furrowed brow and how deep in thought he seemed in that moment you can’t help but smile. “Another drink perhaps, ser?” You suggest instead with a smile. Luckily he quickly nods. “A fine idea-“ He agrees while taking the cup you hand him. Still you could see the wheels turning in his head as he took a deep drink. A vassal lord’s son should probably not speak so freely to the daughter of a higher house, though you didn’t seem to mind much. After a moment he peers down to his cup and then yours.

“Mead-?” He asks with a raised brow before taking a smaller sip to savor the taste. A small smile tugs at his lips. “Did you know all the best honey comes from the south? It makes for richer mead…” He explains. You chuckle softly. “I’m sure it does-“ Humfrey chuckles again and nods. “It’s true.” He promises. When you’ve finally downed your cup you offer your hand once more.

Humfrey quickly hides his surprise and takes you to dance once more. This time being a little bolder, holding you closer than before. You didn’t mind, he smelled nice and his touch remained polite.

Soon though, the crowd of guests pushes you both closer. When you look over you notice why, your brother was drunkenly riling up the taller man you noticed earlier, trying to make him dance with him. You giggle softly at his antics and hide your face in the shoulder of your dance partner, who in turn feels an unfamiliar warmth travel up his neck to his cheeks.

Perhaps the closeness was a little too familiar but the warmth of the pavilion, the drink rushing through your veins and to your head made you feel all warm and fuzzy, so you rest your hands comfortably on Humfrey’s shoulders. He hesitates before his own find your waist and hold you close while simultaneously trying to keep you both from being pushed further aside by the crowd of guests.

You slightly turn your head but keep it resting against his shoulder, all the while your hand travels to his chest where you quietly play with his tunic. Black and yellow. “It looks good on you-“ You murmur as he swallows notably. It brings you to ideas, and you gently brush your lips against his throat, just for a moment. Humfrey can’t help a small smile and glances to your brother, who still seems preoccupied, before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple in turn.

The contact send a pleasant shiver down your spine. “I meant it… when I said black and yellow look good on you-“ he murmurs with a smile. “Ever thought of trading in the great stag for humble bees?” A jest, a sweet one but somewhere in his tone you find that he wouldn’t seem to mind if you were to agree. “You’re sweet-“ you murmur back as his hands wrap around your waist a bit tighter.

Your hand travels back up to play with his hair. Only now you notice how much you’re leaning on him and how little you mind. He had something about him that pulled you in. Your fingers trace down his face slowly before twirling the end of his mustache between your thumb and index finger. You lean in and kiss his lips this time. It’s soft, gentle, and Humfrey doesn’t move away. Instead he pulls you closer if that was even possible.

A few more kisses wouldn’t hurt, you tell yourself. Everyone was far too busy with themselves to notice you were indulging your drunken whims.

You don’t remember how many kisses you planted on his lips, only that after a long while the music had slowed and you still slowly swayed in his arms. Tiredness had taken hold of you and your cheek rested against his chest. “Should I deliver you back to Lyonel?” Humfrey offers softly but you shake your head. “Just a little longer.” You murmur under your breath as your fingers curl into the fabric of his tunic.

⟡ Notes - Bro had 8 second of screentime or sum but he sure did rock that mustache 🙏🏻💕

Really thinking about writing a part 2 to this??

[soggy-castlewalls]

⟡ Stay with me ⟡

✦ Summary - Baldwin returns after meeting with Saladin but he’s weak so you stay by his side

⟡ Baldwin IV x wife!reader

✦ Warnings - little bit of angst(?), some comfort, major character death, not proofread

You had been watching from the battlements of the city, anxiously picking at the skin around your nails till the skin was red and raw. Waiting, for a rider carrying a message or, if god was kind, the return of your husband’s men.

Finally a sign of life showed itself at last, dust pluming out above the horizon, kicked up by horses. Too much for a single horse, that was certain, though too little dust to be from all the men he had ridden out with.

There could not have been a battle, Baldwin had ridden out with the intent to keep the peace. He was wise and knew better than anyone how valuable peace was to Jerusalem, especially during these uncertain times. Besides, if conflict truly had been unavoidable it would not have ended so soon. While you ponder your options banners peek over the horizon and the riders close in. You recognize the gold crosses on white cloth in an instant, Baldwin’s banner.

Though something is amiss. Baldwin’s white palfrey rode dutifully along with the small company, yet no rider sat in the saddle. More so was the horse drawn litter coming into sight as the company rode to the gates.

You rushed down, layers of skirt in hand, into the cool hallways of Kerak castle. To the main gate where you knew he’d be brought. The first man you saw was Tiberias. “Is he alive-?” You asked him. Tiberias nodded but gestured for you to make way as the litter opened and a stretcher was brought. “He lives.” Tiberias said but knew that was all he could promise for now.

Both of you had known, Baldwin should not have ridden out to begin with. His physicians advised against it, his body was weak yet he insisted. You saw the reasoning behind it so you had not pleaded with him, instead you simply kissed his cheek before he mounted his steed and watched him ride off. Still with a gnawing feeling in your belly.

Now you were forced to watch the man you loved being carried in on a stretcher. A fear you and him had shared, that the day would come where the spirit was willing but the body had grown tired and weak.

His trusted physicians crowded around him as you could barely catch a glance. You stayed out of the way, at the side as they worked their craft. A warm hand finds its way to your shoulder. Tiberias wasn’t one for many words but he was there, that was enough.

When finally the healers step away and quietly trickle out of the room one by one you finally step closer. Taking in the sight before you for a moment before slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed. Your hand quietly reaching for his. He’s wrapped in clean bandages, his sores cooled and treated. His hand twitches before his fingers wrap around yours, his head slowly tilting towards you.

Without the mask you can see the edge of his frayed lips twitching, into something akin to a smile. “I was worried.” “You shouldn’t have had to-“ Baldwin replies with a tired voice. Despite everything you muster a small smile and grasp his hand a little tighter.

Tiberias takes it as his sign to leave you both be and departs with a quiet nod. Your thumb rubbing gentle circles against Baldwin’s knuckles before you quietly lay down at his side, pressing close. With your hand resting on his chest you can feel the quiet, shallow breaths that should’ve been stronger. Baldwin’s arm wraps around your waist but he hasn’t the strength to pull you close as he once loved to do.

With your head resting on his shoulder nothing has to be said. Your fingers just traces his chest in aimless patterns. Eventually the silence is broken by a soft, rough chuckle. “You are loyal… perhaps more than I deserve.” Baldwin’s says softly as his hand gently rubs your back. “Any other wife would’ve longed for a stronger man, one that could hoist her up in his arms, one that was whole-“ He mutters before you softly shake your head. “Don’t say such things, you did once… even if you haven’t the strength any longer I still chose you. I love you, Baldwin, I wouldn’t dream of leaving you.”

“You’re a good wife, I am lucky to have you.” He mutters softly, like he had many times before. A small smile tugs at your lips and you lean up to kiss his marred cheek. “Five faithful years together-“ “Let’s make it six?” You whisper in turn but Baldwin’s face grows a little somber. “I don’t know if I’ll make it to six, after today I’m uncertain.” He admits quietly.

You nod in understanding as you rest your head back against his chest. “Don’t leave me yet-“ but Baldwin just smiles, he can’t promise you such things like that even if he wants it just as badly. Hus hand remains on your back, rubbing gentle circles. “Stay with me through the night?” “Of course-“ You whisper in turn.

During the night you’d stay, your hand on his chest as you kept check of his breathing. When eventually you slipped into a light sleep so did he. Though he would not wake come morn neither of you knew that as of yet.

⟡ Notes - The spacing between sentences suddenly changed and I have no clue on how to fix it 😭 literally nothing I try works