Introduction : Here

Hi

I feel like writing a fanfiction about a young woman coming from a very small noble house offering her favor to Daemon shortly before the start of a tournament, (she has no suitor and after a few years to wait. She has enough courage to do it) (she might be thin or chubby or bigger I still have to decide)

I don’t know yet if fiction would be in oc or an "x reader" I have to put my ideas in place

If anyone is interested in reading a fanfiction like this?

At worst I’d write it for myself

Hello,

How do I ask that?

It’s been a while now, I write fanfictions, mainly on "House of the dragon" and "a song of ice and fire" and I’m looking for a beta reader.

I’m not too familiar with that. I probably have to say why I’m in this research.

So my mother tongue is French and when I write, I often leave mistakes in my fanfictions, and although I read after writing. The faults pass through anyway. (Some very large others smaller) sometimes I have trouble knowing if I post a fanfiction or not because I feel it is not good to read. At other time it is boiling in my mind and I publish, but yeah.

I mainly write my fan fiction in "x reader" and with chubby/plus size/fat reader (so yes, not everyone reads them) and I try to make it as neutral as possible, so that everyone can read my fanfiction regardless of their skin color, hair type. Etc...

For now I have not posted or written because... here, feel that it is not good enough, it does not make you want to write or post. (I have difficulty with the nsfw of the kinktober, yes I know I'm a lot lot late)

You can contact me by private messages on tumblr.

Have a good day or night.

Earenwen

(Oh and if you know where I could ask this, can you told me?)

Did i continue to write in irl?

Did I don't write?

That's the question

I want to write,

Did I have the motivation?

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When talking with people's on commentary or dm.

When alone

Did I talk to a lot of people's ?

No

Did I go to people's easily?

No (thank my complicated past)

Did people's will read this until now?

🤷‍♀️

just out of interest, why don't you write hard bdsm (really I'm just curious I'm not trying to attack you or something) ?

Hello, what did you mean by hard bdsm? As we have all our limit with it, and each are different for each other's. So yes what is your vision of it?

Because there is a difference between been into sc*t and liking some spanking (at least for me) *I correct myself as I think that it was not the best words to use from me, as I don't judge anyone as what their kinks are, it was just a example that have passed my mind at that moment, and i could have named other kinks*

As for the more nsfw part of what I write, I don't write them that much like almost never, there was a nsfw alphabet for Maegor and one about a ex courtisan reader and Daemon before the kinktober. (But you have maybe already read them) so, you must have see that I have not the hand of other writers, with the kinktober I try to ease my mind to free in writing what I have in it, and it's not that easy.

Are you a anon who have asked for one of the day and who liked more of your vision of hard bdsm ? Because if it's that, you can add in your ask what you would like to see.

I wish you a good day,

Earenwen

(Outside of this response, is there more people's who would like those hard bsdm? Or who don't like how I write those nsfw? Its just a question, i would not go on war, do not worry you can even come as anon)

Ps : I have respond this at 6am, and re read after almost 6 hours

Arachnophobe

How could Targaryen men and women react, if their lady/wife/mistress/… reader, one night, for some reason be awakened, and illuminate by the light of a candle, would have come face to face with a spider and either screamed or ran to their bed clinging to their Targaryen?

Bonus point if the spider is small.

Double bonus point if, in reality the spider is huge.

From a person who are afraid of spiders and who would happily sleep to with a dragon if it would have insurance/ security against these little hairy things.

The prince of her heart

Pairing: Daemon x chubby fem reader

Summary: Your relationship with Daemon was never easy, but how will the prince react to the announcement of your engagement with a Martell prince?

Trigger warning: English is not my mother tongue

Author’s note: Y/e/n means; your enemy name

For several years you had lived in King’s Landing, you were the eldest of your house, which was of average nobility, your parents had sent you to the capital to allow you to refine your education. Their intentions were most clear, the more noble you seemed and learned to know people of the nobility and the more likely they were to marry you with a house of "great" nobility, such as the Tully house or the Lannister house, They did not hope that you could marry a member of the Targaryen family, as they were difficult to please and the throne game very often deadly.

You lived this education well, it was repetitive and at times boring, but the mestres and nanny were not the most severe. The young lady of your age were the most disturbing, their little comments on your physique had become a habit, you answered them dry but without too much violence in your words, if they had made the decision to be wicked, that was not your case. Even if at times they could be cruel in their words, you told yourself that one day it would turn against them. All knew your attraction to one of the members of the royal family, for they all met to see him when he was in the castle. The rogue prince, Daemon Targaryen.

If you remained in retreat and avoided to cross the eyes of the prince, the other young women did not hesitate to leave their comments in his direction. They annoyed you, every time one of them hung on the prince’s arm or shared one of the rare dances. They seemed like desperately hungry leeches. Your heart was palpitating, you felt a heat invade your head and the top of your body, you felt the blood in your veins both boiling and cooling. A feeling of jealousy pervaded you, for all this years, you had tried to speak to the prince but with each attempt, one of your competitors came to take the light, always finding an excuse to grab the prince’s attention. The only time you had any semblance of discussion was in the largest library in thé red keep. The place had become a sanctuary for you, it was quiet and you no longer heard the chuckles of turkeys, uh pardon the young women, who were obsessed by the prince, you were still young and your feelings and your behavior were impacted.

Over the years, your forms had become established, you were much more round than the others, if some young men were attracted by the thinner women, others had shown more interest in you. This happened more often with young men and older, coming from the north. Like Lord Stark, who at a reception had offered an engagement with his son, but Gregan Stark was just a baby, your parents had responded politely, declining the offer. Deep down, you were both proud to be able to please, but they weren’t the ones you wanted. A form of melancholy pervaded your body, not knowing how to attract the attention of the prince, whether it was a dress of a new color, or a new haircut, Daemon seemed never to see you. With every little glance you threw at the prince, he looked at other people, never looking at you, at the end of the festivities you felt like a ghost in his eyes, but that didn’t completely demoralize you, wanting to focus on the positive events you were experiencing outside of your one-way attraction. Many knights and maids had seen changes in your behavior when the prince was present and if they remained silent when the prince was present. For the most part, you had their support, in any case, those to whom you spoke.

---

You were sitting in one of the furthest corners of the library, reading a book about northern tales and legends that came from one of the great "go" of the library. You were fascinated by the history of the construction of the gigantic wall, theirs stories were much more gloomy than those of your home. Recently, you had no time to read a book properly, your parents intended to make you meet several pretenders, you had the visit of a dozen eldest sons, coming from houses of the same nobility as yours. They came mainly from the north of Westeros, although some seemed physically pleasing, you had little in common.

It was while waiting for news about the suitors you had met and potential future suitors, that a shadow slid along the table where was placed the big book bound from a thick leather. You thought it was your servant, but the surprise was different.

A man about your age, with his back straight, his long silver hair cascading against his shoulders, dressing in black and red, with embroidery in the shape of scales stood in front of you. You blinked several times, making sure you didn’t imagine Daemon standing in front of you.

"Hello"

You looked around you, little sure of being the intended person, Daemon had never taken the initiative to speak to you. It was after a few seconds of uncertainty that you answered.

"Hello..."

"Y/n, am I right?"

"That’s what it is..."

You looked at Daemon with a look of little reassurance, the last rumours wanted him to court one of the worst turkeys, pardon "young woman", heart beating quickly, you tried to keep a calm breath, waiting for what would happen, Suspicious, after all you were at the red keep, everything was dangerous, even simple words.

The prince spoke again, not explaining to you why he had approached you, he spoke to you as if you were commonly spanking him. You only listened, answering at a rare moment, unsure of the prince’s intentions, thinking that it would have lasted only that day.

The next day, the prince came back to see you, and the day after that. For several weeks, you had come closer to the prince, the shyness that you could feel in his presence, at first gradually faded. You had not sent a letter to your parents explaining this sudden change in the prince’s attitude, although you remained on your guard a more innocent part of you hoped, that the prince had a real interest in you. You were getting closer and closer to him, watching him during his training, sharing moments where Daemon was reciting poetry, humming songs in the language of ancient Valyria. You could watch turkeys at times, oh.... " young women"... look you with disdain, one of them, Y/e/n was the one who said she was being courted by Daemon seemed fulminal, although continuing to spend moments with the prince, especially during official events, although these were more rare with time.

----

You couldn’t believe Daemon invited you to join him outside the castle. This very morning, for two weeks, he had seemed sweeter, taking your hand, taking you for a walk outside the castle. If your reason cried out to you to beware, your heart was pure joy, although the change in the prince’s behavior was not joyful for all, Daemon had been introduced as a commander of the city watch of King’s Landing, He would have angered several families refusing the hand of their daughters, the fathers would have filled the hand of the king, who would have succeeded in granting the prince’s sending, far from the red keep. There was a form of withdrawal going through you when you weren’t close to Daemon. It is the spirit in the clouds that you prepared yourself with difficulty, late in the evening, wanting to take one of the passages that the prince had indicated to you.

In the darkness, you walked in silence in the long and cold corridors of the red keep, wearing a dark and supple dress as well as a long cape with a hood hiding your face. With your hands moist and trembling, you advanced, watching every sound, whether it was a drop of water falling from the ceiling, the murmuring of distant conversations. Every time a guard turned to take the hallway you were in, you tried to hide behind one of the statues in the hallway or one of the huge stone flower pots.

The secret passage was not very far away when you felt a hand resting on your shoulder. A cry escaped from your mouth but was held by a gloved hand. The jerky breathing, the throbbing heart so strong that you had buzzing ears and trembling hands, you tried to free yourself. When you managed to turn around, you noticed that it was one of the knights you had met several times in the castle, the man with black hair and amber eyes had always been most courteous in your presence, he wore a golden fabric on his left shoulder.

"Sir Melmidoc. Why did you do this?"

"It’s more for me to ask you questions, Lady Y/n"

"I was walking around."

"In the corridors of the castle? In the middle of the night?" Sir Melmidoc saw the piece of parchment in your hands, a little dragon symbol was stamped "Oh, you’re one of them..."

The knight stepped back, freeing you from his grip. He seemed both intrigued, sad and angry. You did not understand why he reacted in this way, a hint of fear passed through you when he spoke again.

"It was Prince Daemon who asked you to come and join him, wasn’t it." Faced with your lack of response, he went on. « Don’t go, please, my lady. How can I tell you that?" He sighed. " The prince has no good intentions, for several months, he speaks of a young woman, who turns around and who would pity in him, but not a good pity... »

You couldn’t believe it, even though deep down, your conscience was screaming that she was right all along. With difficulty swallowing your saliva, you had the impression that your heart was going to explode in your chest.

"I’m sorry Lady Y/n, you may not be that young woman, but I ask you to be careful, the prince likes to change women once he gets bored of her. Many people at the castle like you and wouldn’t want to see you unhappy because of the prince."

"Sir Melmidoc... I cannot take your word for it, how can I? If I have to see what’s going on and hear what the prince has to say to me, then so be it."

"I accompany you, a lady of a noble house must not circulate in King’s landing alone."

It is the misting spirit that you have begun to walk, Sir Melmidoc. Your ears were buzzing, you felt a little sweaty, if the prince wanted to humiliate you, you wouldn’t let it happen.

----

You had only crossed the streets of the city on foot in the presence of Daemon and by day, at night, the streets seemed to you to be a maze, you followed the drawing plan on the parchment, this one you spanked in the most clean neighborhoods. From the city, knights regularly roamed the streets, unlike the more distant districts where the streets were the darkest where a mixture of cries of sorrow, fear and joy mingled. Sir Melmidoc noticed that you were approaching the place of command of the city watch of King’s landing where Daemon had taken up residence, outside the brothels, the people around you did not seem to pay attention to you, too much to drink or eat or just to feast.

You had stopped in front of a house that seemed empty, the shutters were closed and a faint glow passed through one of the windows. Sir Melmidoc watched you approach the window, it was high because the building was on a natural descent, which meant that to enter the house, you had to climb three steps. The first window was still a good size for you to see, but the light window was higher, you stood on your tiptoes, putting your hands on the windowsill to try to see what was going on inside.

The boards that formed the shutter were chipped in places, which allowed you to see through a slot sufficiently spaced that there was a person in the place. You recognized Daemon’s long hair, he was standing in the middle of the room, a fire was lit in the path, which illuminated the place. The thrilling heart you thought was good, it was there, it was already a good thing. You felt your heart tighten when Y/e/n entered the room, Daemon turned in his direction, you could not hear what they were saying, but the vision of Y/e/n in Daemon’s arms and kissing him was enough for you to stop looking.

Sir Melmidoc saw you moving away from the window, your eyes lost in the void and sad, your lip trembled a few seconds before you pulled yourself together, taking a deep breath you began to walk towards the castle, Melmidoc went towards the shutter and looked, Squeezing the dots they saw Daemon and Y/e/n, the prince had his hands on the young woman’s forearms. Although Sir Melmidoc was tempted to interrupt what was going on in that house, he resumed, escorting you to the red keep like any good knight. All along the way, you said no words, your mind was confused by your reason screaming that you should have been careful, and by the regret of having been deceived so easily.

The red keep seemed dull and darker than the screen, perhaps it was due to your own sadness.

-----------

In the morning, you stayed in your room, delaying your visit to the library, your servant, Anne, tried to encourage you to leave your room, but you refused each time, explaining that you did not feel good, you asked her to bring your meals directly to your apartments, refusing any other visit. That day you allowed yourself to be sad, to do nothing, not even to complain about your fate. You were letting go for the first time since you came here for years.

Around noon, Anne handed you a parchment bearing the seal of Daemon, you let her put it on the table with your meal, you wanted to read the parchment, to be able to read what lies the princes might have told you, but you put it on the coter, not descaling it.

----------

If at the first moment of your getting to the red keep and the prince’s vision, you were looking to meet Daemon without being too insistent. This was no longer the case when you felt confident to see him face to face. You sent Anne to ask the servants if they had seen the prince, all their answers were negative, until early evening. Murmuring in the corridors, the king had summoned his brother, for a question of violence.

You were standing in the gardens of the red keep, in front of the big old tree, the torches were outside giving orange hues to the too much of the white tree, allowing play of shade, to which you would never have paid attention to the screen, But doing that would allow you to think about what you wanted to say to the prince.

Sounds of footsteps came out of your reflection, the sounds echoed from the only open door of the castle, guards were posted on both sides of it. You turned slowly in the direction of the door, when the footsteps were close enough to see who was approaching.

In his armor, his golden cape lay on his left shoulder and this eternal draconian helmet. Daemon stood at the entrance to the garden, your heart began to run wild, and you kept trying to stay calm. As the distance between you and me was reduced. Your emotions were fighting with each other, anger for having been deceived, sadness, pride, your courage, you had to prevent him from speaking to you, knowing the least of his words, you would risk falling into the dragon’s den.

"Would you avoid me?"

"I..." You took a deep breath. "I came to the place of our meeting. I saw you and Lady Y/e/n."

Daemon seemed surprised and irritated by your revelation, but before he could tell you anything, you spoke again.

"I’m not like all other young women, I’ve heard the rumors that you’re having fun playing with someone’s feelings, I want to tell you that it won’t work with me, I no longer wish to see you, farewell Prince Daemon."

At the end of your monologue, you began to walk, with your back straight and a steady movement towards the point of arrival of the prince, not leaving him time to answer, he called you and began to follow you to the door where the guards prevented him from entering. His cries resounded in your mind all night, preventing you from finding sleep. You were hoping deep down that you made the right decision.

---

The days that followed were a real chaos in the castle, the prince if he did not come in person in the castle sent knights under his orders to look for you, even if it meant forcing you out of the castle to speak to him in person. The cacophony that had occurred, had forced the king’s hand to assign you a sworn shield. Forcing Viserys to think about a solution to the prince’s temperament.

This situation was irritable to you, you could no longer go about your usual activities, always having to have your sworn shield at your side, your visits to the library had been interrupted several times by Daemon, he went through the aisles of the library, whether in armor, his golden cape floating in the air, or in more formal clothes in the eternal colors of his house. The more the days went by, the more violent his visits were towards those present.

"Where is she, you mangy dog?"

"We do not know Prince Daemon."

"I know you’re lying to me! Servants saw her come in!"

"Maybe she’s out in the meantime?"

Daemon had caught one of the mestres by the pass, almost choking him, his gaze was filled with a fury that few people had seen coming from the prince. Daemon, released the maester sending him to the ground, he looked around him one last time before leaving the library, threatening the maesters one last time.

---

"Dear daughter,

I hope everything’s going well for you, Red Keep, we haven’t heard from you in weeks, we’re worried about you. A letter came from King’s Landing, asking us to come as soon as possible, I hope nothing happened to you.

But if you’re just melancholy, I hope this information will please you,

Your father and I have reached an agreement with the house of Martell, in order to unite our two houses, in the days following the arrival of this letter, if the calculations of the mestres are good, Nymor Martell, the Second eldest son of the Prince of Dorne, will go to King’s Landing, to meet you, we hope that your meeting can be fruitful. For the sake of both our houses.

Be careful, I love you,

Your mother"

You were reading the letter, sighing, you didn’t want to meet Nymor Martell for the moment, but your duty to your family had to be done, whether you wanted to or not. Putting down the letter, you noticed the small pile of parchment bearing the seal of Daemon, if he had no longer come to the castle by his duty as commander of the city watch of King’s landing, it was mainly because the king had forced him to stay there. He continued to send you messengers, even though they remained unanswered.

---

Nymor Martell was most charming, although his charm was less pervasive than that of Daemon. He was polite, asked if he could put a kiss on your hand, what you wanted to do at the castle, wondering how your life was in the capital.

Nymor had short hair, jet black and boulée, her dark brown eyes reminded you of the colors of the trees of the forests surrounding your house and a warm tone, He was a little smaller than Daemon, of a half head. His olive skin seemed to have been touched by the sun all her life. He wore the traditional yellow of his family, his clothes were thinner and wider than those of Westeros, his top was very often opened on the top of his torso. Although you always had the image of the prince in mind, you made it your duty to be the most agreeable, Nymor could see the sadness in the depths of your eyes, the rare moments when you really looked at him, but he understood that a marriage arranged was never entirely wanted, That’s why he wanted to be the most pleasant, getting to know you gently. Sending flowers to your apartments, jewels in the style of Dorne, he found the last book that you had spoken to him during the day to start reading it.

If your understanding was easy, shadows revolved around you both. The greatest shadow, was most devouring, furious. If it could have been palpable, a burning heat would have emanated. Daemon, who left several of his knights learned that a Martell prince was circling you, and that rumors about your future engagement were circling in some noble houses, was most angry.

---

Three months had passed since your meeting with Nymor, your meetings had continued, for a good part of the days, dining together, strolling through the gardens, you asked him how Dorne was, he told you about his city the Sunspear, of the Old Palace, long days of sunshine, caravans crossing the desert, slowly explaining to you how romantic relationships were different in Dornes, he did not speak to you of freer love, not now, everything in its time.

Your engagement was formalized in a few feathers on parchment. King Viserys was happy that the Martell house was getting closer to a house close to the Targaryen, so happy that he organized festivities there, including a tournament.

Nymor took part, he loved jousting and wanted to show everyone that his future princess was most desirable and that he would do everything to please her. All had heard the rumors about the will of Prince Daemon to participate in the tournament, although Viserys is against, Nymor manages by his charm and his words to make accept the participation of Daemon. You had explained to him in a few words, your semblance of relationship with the prince. He had listened to you, while suspecting that if the prince had become so aggressive, it was because everything was not officially over for Daemon. Because of her pure pride Martell, Nymor got into the head of testing Daemon, because if the prince was still present in your life, you would never have been entirely yourself in Dorne and especially to see how far the prince was willing to go for you. To see if he was sincere positively or that his way of acting had as source are equal wounded.

---

The musicians struck their little drums in harmony, many people were present in the stands, many wore the colors of their favorite knights, many people from Dorne had made the trip. It gave tones of golden yellow in the bleachers.

Your parents had arrived two days earlier, they were both happy for your future union but at the same time they feared Prince Targaryen, when they first arrived more than three months in front of the screen, they had seen the actions of the prince, the numbers of parchments seal in your chambers, your mother had tried to have you open at least one parchment, but you had refused, being yourself tugging, knowing yourself enough to know that according to the messages, your destiny would have been changed.

You were seated in the royal stands, the king was in the stow above yours, a free seat was at your right, destine to Nymor if he had to be defeated, in order to attend the tournament. To your left were your parents, your mother sitting directly to your left, holding your hand, feeling her own stress, as you tried to keep a weak smile, masking your fear of a possible meeting between Nymor and Daemon.

King Viserys stood up, raised his arms, spoke, spoke forcefully so that everyone could hear him.

"I know that many of you have travelled a very long distance to attend the festivities dedicated to the engagement of the Martell house and the Y/h/n house, which are proud allies of the seven crowns. I can promise you you won’t be disappointed. Many of theirs knights have trained to entertain you, Prince Nymor Martell, himself to decide to participate. I wish him good luck and that the tournament begins!"

The drums resumed their rhythms, while the spectators shouted with joy. The first knights entered the arena, in their shining armor, their horses henned, dust flew behind them, their squires, retreating passed this cloud, placed themselves at their respective marks, preparing to help their knights in this duel.

The snap of the reins marked the beginning of the duel. The two riders galloped, advancing one towards the other along the wooden railing.

The snap of their spears breaking on their shields made several spectators shout. The knight in front of the Royal Gallery had managed to bring his opponent to the ground.

Several people of the royal tribune applauded, your father himself watched the duel with interest, you suspected that bets were taking place among the nobles, their various and varied reactions throughout the day, confirmed it.

At Nymor’s first duel, your heart was pounding, you would be your mother’s hand, hoping for everything to go well. Fortunately, Nymor was a very good rider, he dropped his opponent at the first blow, barely moving from his horse’s saddle to the sudden blow against his shield.

Nymor wasn’t the only knight who made you react like that.

Daemon, of his black armor, wearing his helmet, with dragon-like wings, red and black crest floating in the air. The prince made a smashing first entrance. He was aggressive in his way of fighting, using cunning to bring down his opponents. At each entrance and victory, he would cast a glance in the direction of the tribune. That look would thrill you and take your breath away.

---

«Here is a duel awaited by all! The prince of Dorne, Nymor Martell, will fight the prince of the city! Daemon Targaryen!»

Your heart was pounding, your hands were getting sweaty, your mother would whisper sweet words to help you stay calm. Behind you, you could hear some lords making bets, your father himself had wagered several gold coins for Nymor, while behind you you heard, a Lord placing on the right of Queen Aemma betting for Daemon.

Breathless, you saw the two princes come in. Their armor was the opposite. Nymor’s armor was in silver tones, a golden sun engraved on his chest, his helmet also had sun patterns. The armor of Daemon gave him the appearance of a dragon. His horse with the dress and black mane, gave him the appearance of a conqueror. A Martell – Targaryen duel had not taken place since Aegon… and this one was not won by the dragons. Nymor knew that very well, since his house never fully accepted the unification of the Westeros kingdoms, they were not conquered and would never know.

Daemon looked one last time towards the Royal Gallery, before going into battle. Nymor was quick to react, moving towards Daemon. The sound of their spears shattered, startled you, you looked away for two seconds under the shock, raising your eyes you saw that the princes were still sealed, catching a new spear. This throwing relentlessly in this duel.

Daemon annoyed and frustrated at not being able to throw his opponent, his back dropped by the ruse. Instead of throwing his spear against the shield of Nymor, Daemon leaned to the side taking with him his spear which bumps against the legs of Nymor’s horse. The horse fell forward, Nymor was pinned from the seal and landed on the ground, his helmet still hanging from his head. The spectators shouted their discontent, dissatisfied with the victory of Prince Targaryen.

At the fall of Nymor, you rose from your seat screaming in despair, a trembling hand resting before your mouth. You thought you could feel your heart coming out of your chest, fear growing, you hoped Nymor wasn’t badly hurt. Squires dragged him out of the arena when he tried to get up with difficulty. Mestres were posted in front of the entrance of the fighters, the supported. Your mother kept holding your hand, she tried to reassure you, to make you sit, but you were paralyzed by fear. Powerless to provide helped.

"Lady Y/n. "

This voice... you knew it all too well, you looked in its direction and saw Daemon sitting on his horse.

“I ask your favor, with this one I will be sure to win this tournament.”

You felt a weight fall in your stomach, it was wearing a terrible smile, a mixture of pride and narquois was implanted there.

You looked towards your parents, who beckoned you to accept the prince’s request.

It was with a heavy heart, trembling hands, that you held the small crown of flowers in the colors of your house. You placed it on the tip of Daemon’s spear.

“Good luck, Prince Daemon…”

You were no longer interested in participating in his festivities, to see the end of the tournament. If Daemon wanted to hurt you from the beginning, he had finally succeeded. With the misty spirit, you sat down in your place, under the eyes of several lords and lady.

---

Fortunately, Nymor was not seriously wounded, the Maesters refused to see him anyway. The prince of Dorne had been touched in his pride and he had to decompress alone. You left the gallery before the tournament ended, not wanting to see the show.

In spite of everything, you took the hundred steps in the alley of the tents for the participants of the tournament. Night began to fall but you refused to return to the castle, worried about your fiancé. You sat on one of the benches installed in the alley, your sworn shield was at your side and tried to reassure you. A sound of gravel turned your head.

Daemon approached you, his helmet under his arm. Your knight stood on his guard, placing a hand on the knob of his sword. You raised one hand in his direction, asking him to relax. Daemon, once at your height, asked you to speak to yourself. Hesitant you accepted anyway, you had to talk. The last events were too much for you.

You followed the prince, moving away a few meters from the tents. Your heart was palpitating, a ball was forming in your sale. His presence so close to you, made you almost doubt the feelings that passed through your being.

"Are you happy?" You asked this question in a voice, slightly vibrant.

“Why should I be happy? You do not answer any of the messages I have sent you, you accept from being engaged to a Martell…”

“I did my duty to my family. What was I hoping for?”

"Let me speak to you!" Daemon was sincerely beginning to lose patience.

"To tell me what?! I have seen enough!"

“You didn’t see everything! You didn’t see that I was pushing that bitch away! I would have burned her alive before your eyes for hier thinking she was more important than you!” Daemon threw his helmet down. "If from the beginning you would have given me a chance to tell you what you mean to me, none of this would have happened! I asked you to join me that night to tell you how much I cared about you, to woo you more officially, to nail the beak of all detectors!"

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“I still care for you, seeing you courted, did accentuate the fire that burns in your name. I would destroy Dorne so that I could get you back and you could rule by my side!"

You watched Daemon surprised and strangely sad, questioning your own judgment.

"Why? Why do all this? Your obsession?"

"Because I love you!"

The last words of the prince resonated deep within you, spanking the walls that held back everything that had allowed you to hold on to his last months.

Daemon, his long hair floating in the air looked at you with his purple eyes, you could see a form of sincerity in the depths of his eyes. You weren’t sure about your future.

Les bébous ❤️

"Bébou" it's a nickname that most of french people tell to call someone or something cute

THE BLACKS ICONS.

Please consider to like or reblog if you use!

I need to talk

The first part is a google translation of my first post written in French. The second part will be an addition to what I wrote. This is the link of the first post. (And just as i was going to post this, i just have two feedback, and thank you, maybe it's not the best day to post this but at least it will not be in my head that much)

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Today I will speak in French,

French being my mother tongue, I am more able to express myself.

It’s been two years since I started writing fanfictions, two years where I try to improve my English, where I write first in French then translated into English to be sure of the turns of phrase, of my intention in my writing. (Which makes my posts are not daily either, it takes me a lot of time)

You are adorable for all the likes. And thank you.

But.

I would also like to have comments, because I know that I leave spelling and grammar mistakes. I write for chubby/plus size/fat readers, and sometimes I feel like you just read because of the lack of this type of content.

Even in my publications of the kinktober. I do not know if what I write is correct or not. I just had one person ask me about not writing hard bdsm, and a question about, if I would write for other characters. But... why don’t you leave me a comment to tell me WHY do you want me to write about other characters? Why do YOU want me to write Hard bdsm, do you like what I write? Do people write about the characters you want?

Another example. When I put the draft fanfictions requests for kinktober, I did not receive any news from anonymous people, which makes me not want to publish the kinktober, because I do not know if it is good for them. I am lost.

Completely lost.

I have fanfiction ideas, I have unpublished writings, and I don’t publish them, because... I don’t know if what I write is good, just having likes is fine, but having a comment, just one, it’s a diamond.

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I will add something.

I know that I cannot ask for the engagement of people's, I cannot force them to interract.

I do not read or interract with others authors as, I fear to be judges, to be see as needy, to be reject.

I know that writing for chubby/plus size mean that I will have less people's reading my work. But fuck, why not leaving a commentary? To put courage for those who write that type of content, if I wanted more people's to see my work I would have not write for chubby/plus size, and I would have write for "normal" reader(I hate to have to use the word normal), I would have not write the reader as the more neutral that I can and chubby/plus size. I would have put less time, less passion on it.

I don't understand why there is this lack of feedback. And I'm not the only one, reddit is full of people's asking the same think, that told that they lost their want, their passion in fanfictions.

I write first for myself, it's true. But... seen that people's like what I write and it's true that I have some reblogs, less then the likes and more then the commentary, but... even in the reblogs there is no feedback, even a emoji is good (thank you if you pass by your emoji have made my day)

I feel like that people's just feed on fanfictions and are angry when a autor ask for a feedback to know if it was good or not. Having just... even someone, in anon, or in dm's if they don't want their commentary visible by all, to just... have a interaction. I'm not someone who will scream or be angry, i just... sometime i feel lonely.

Lonely, because i don't know how to interract with peoples, i don't know when and how I can try to interract with someone, if I would not be too much, as i know that I can be too passionate with something and this made peoples go away. I know that not everyone are alway connect on tumblr or ao3.

Oh ao3, this one is depressing, as you can watch how much peoples have read or at least interract and when you see the number of kudos or comments, there is a mountain between them sometime. (I don't talk here only for me, but for the other's too, as i have already told, you can see on reddit peoples talking about that)

I needed to talk about this, even if you don't think like me or don't live this. It's okay. We are all different, and I'm sorry to have bothered you.

Hi,

I will answer @avalyaaa and those who enjoyed "He's first and only love" on the possibility of a part two.

I think about it, more precisely, I think about how to write it without showing the fact that I don’t like Rhaenyra, (whatever that might be good in the plot and be more convincing). And having never read the books and season two not being out, I risk writing an ending that is not "correct".

Like that great theory where Daemon is actually the night king.... I have to avoid thinking about it I’m going to end up imagining too many things....

I’ll work on it 🙂 and if you or anyone who’s read it so far, has a request, I’ll take it.

Have a good day 🙂

"If you where less of a incompetent and unfaithful husband. She would not have to seek the attention of my son."

Must be something Otto told Daemon the day that wife reader seek attention and affection from Gwayne.