#masema dagar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

foxyanon · 2 months

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Worship

SURPRISE SHAWTY! This little idea took root and I had to get it out. Didn’t think I’d write for Masema, but here we are. I typed this up in my phone and half assed reread it. It’s officially 3am where I am and now, I can rest.

Summary: How far would you go for your obsession?

Pairing: Masema Dagar X Rhaenerys Targaryen

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Word Count: 3230

TW: mentions of death, blood, murder, slightly manipulative Rhaenerys (she’s Maegor’s daughter, that’s all the warning you are getting), no beta, we die like Maegor

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Wheel of Time or A Song of Ice and Fire nor do I own any of the images used.

Dividers made by @arcielee 💙

He didn’t know what happened for him to land here. One minute he was fighting Seanchan soldiers at Falme, the next a portal opened around him and everyone within a 20 foot radius while Rand was busy fighting Ishmael. He vaguely recalls being pulled through the swirling vortex before landing harshly in a grass field, the salty smell of sea air filling his nostrils. While he worked to regain his bearings, he noticed multiple Seanchan soldiers fell through with him, alongside his own comrades. There was a pause between everyone involved before they started fighting again. He brought his blade up just in time to block an attack before the sound of thunder rolled across the field. He would’ve ignored it, if it hadn’t been followed by a deafening screeching roar. He looked up just in time to see a large black and purple dragon fly overhead, circling the field for a place to land.

Just as the beast landed roughly, shaking the ground and throwing several people off balance, Masema caught sight of something that would be burned in his mind for the rest of his days. There, in the saddle of this magnificent creature, was a woman. She hopped down out of the saddle, her very presence commanding the attention of the battling warriors. She unsheathed her own sword, the blade looking as though it were made for her and her alone.

“I command you to lay down your weapons or face your end by dragonfire!” Her voice rang out, clear and commanding, as she approached those assembled.

A few dropped their weapons, but Masema laid his sword down and dropped to his knees, some powerful feeling within him telling him to obey her. The closer she got, the more he could make out her unique features and he was taken by her beauty. Her long silver-white hair was pulled back into elaborate battle braids and her eyes…Creator help him, her eyes were the prettiest shade of purple he’d ever seen. She looked out over the soldiers assembled and snarled, the dragon perched behind her roaring loudly, a reminder to do as she said or else. Everyone suddenly dropped their swords and threw their hands up, probably hoping for mercy. The mysterious woman sauntered through the crowd, the blade in her hand glinting dangerously in the light of the midday sun. When she stopped in front of Masema, his heart nearly stopped. She placed the flat of her blade under his chin, tilting his head up and staring into his eyes with an intensity he became addicted to instantly.

“You were the first to kneel in my presence, so I shall speak with you and you alone. Who are you and where have you come from?” Her voice softened, but was no less as commanding as before and he was hooked.

He answered her without hesitation, telling her who they were and briefly explaining the strange situation. She tilted her head to the side, an enchanting smile gracing her lips as she pulled the blade away from his neck.

“A pleasure to meet you, Masema.” The way she said his name caused his mouth to run dry and his heart to race. “My name is Rhaenerys Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne.”

He bowed his head in submission, feeling an intense feeling of obeisance spreading through him. When he looked back up at her, she had sheathed her blade and gestured for him to stand. He did so willingly, following behind her as she separated the Shienaran forces from the Seanchan. The threat of her dragon kept everyone in line, none daring to challenge the Princess. Once everyone had been separated, she faced the Seanchan men and gave them a sadistic grin.

“My new friend here has told me you are the enemy, so I shall treat you as such. Make peace with your deity, you shall meet them shortly,” she said in plainly, staring at the scared faces of the Seanchan soldiers.

Dracarys.

With just one word she had uttered and the soldiers Masema had been fighting were engulfed in flames as her dragon responded to her decree. He looked back at the Princess and swore right then and there that he was in the presence of a goddess amongst mortal kind and he would serve her faithfully until the end of his days.

Several months had passed since his arrival on what he learned was the island of Dragonstone, the primary home of his beloved princess. He and the rest of his companions had been added to her household guard, and while some had wished to return to their world, he and many others wished to stay. He worked tirelessly to prove himself loyal and faithful to her, acting on her orders without a thought. Anyone he came in contact with, he spoke nothing but praises of her and her deeds, feeling proud to be of service to one so divine. He was naturally a charismatic man, so it took no time at all for him to secure a steady following that joyfully supported Rhaenerys’s claim to the throne.

He had met her father and mother, King Maegor and Queen Elvira, as well as her grandmother, Dowager Queen Visenya. While his loyalties were with Rhaenerys first and foremost, he would do as they commanded since she regarded them highly. He had heard the rumors of the King's cruelty, but he never believed them. In his mind, those who were dealt with harshly often deserved it and he had no qualms doing the dirty work of taking care of the problem. It didn’t take long for him to move up in the ranks, quickly becoming House Targaryens most loyal servant and deadliest warrior. He prided himself on his skills, feeling beyond grateful for the recognition he was shown, especially when his Princess praised him for his deeds. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to see that radiant smile on her face, even if she asked him to eliminate a threat to her future reign. To him, nothing was too great an ask that he wouldn’t do willingly and with a smile on his face.

His hands may have brought about the death of lords and commoners alike, anyone who wouldn’t support her claim for whatever reason, but he didn’t care. Their blood may have been on his hands, but his actions kept hers clean and pure, just as she was meant to be. It was his duty, no his honor, to carry out her orders. Wherever she went, he was sure to follow like her shadow. Whenever she held court at Dragonstone, he was there at the foot of the dais. She was the judge and jury, he was her executioner. Some of his fellow Shienarans tried talking to him, saying he was acting like a fanatic about her and that she was just as cruel as her father. He snapped back that they didn’t understand, that this was what he was meant to do and that she was a perfect princess, that they couldn’t possibly understand what that meant and how dare they speak such treason about the woman who saved them.

That night he reported what they had said to Rhaenerys, on his knees at her feet as she sat in her rooms. He felt like a failure, his own people betraying the woman who gave his life meaning. After he spoke, he couldn’t look her in the eye for fear of seeing anger in her mesmerizing eyes.

Instead, he felt her soft fingers against his chin, gently tilting his head up as she gave him a soft smile. Her thumb gently brushed across his lower lip, his breath catching as she leaned forward and whispered softly.

“You have not failed me, Masema. They have simply lost their way. Speak with them, lead them back to the path of righteousness and let them see the error of their ways. If they refuse, you know what must be done,” her soothing voice squashed his doubts and he nodded vigorously.

“As you wish, Princess,” he responded breathlessly, quickly standing and bowing deeply before leaving to speak some sense into his friends.

When dawn came, several had changed their minds. Masema was very convincing, but not enough to convince all of them. Those who refused to follow Rhaenerys met their demise by his hand. He delivered their heads to her, laying them at her feet as she broke her fast. His hands and face were still covered in blood, leaving imprints on the floor as he bowed deeply before her, his forehead and palms pressed against the cold stone.

“You have served me well, Masema, removing potential weak links from my guard. Now, I must ask another favor of you,” Rhaenerys spoke in her usual enchanting voice, impressed by his devotion to her. The sight of the decapitated heads and blood bothered her none, her gaze trained on Masema.

Masema looked up at her with barely contained enthusiasm, eager to please her again and hear praises for his deeds fall from her soft lips. “I am yours to command, Princess.”

“The time for me to marry has come. I need you to spy on the potential suitors as they come to Dragonstone. Learn everything about them and report back to me with the one you think would best serve me as consort,” she told him, reaching out and gently cupping his bloodstained cheek. Masema leaned into her touch, her exotic scent invading his senses and reaffirming his devotion to her. “You have proven to be the most loyal and faithful to me and my House. Only you can do this task for me, Masema.”

His heart swelled with adoration and pride, the knowledge that she trusted him above all others making him feel lightheaded. He kissed the back of her hand, swearing to fulfill her wishes before leaving her chambers.

None of them. Absolutely none of those weak willed, pompous fools are worthy of being in her presence, let alone marrying her. The Lannister boy was too self centered and focused on his own House, rather than expanding the greatness that is the House of the Dragon. He had no real qualms about the Stark lordling, but the stoic Northerner wasn’t interested in the affairs of the Iron Throne and that just won’t do for his princess. The Baratheon brat might’ve been a contender, but his wandering eyes and hands knocked him off the list. Princess Rhaenerys deserved someone who would be devoted to her and only her, someone who wanted to ensure the survival of House Targaryen above all else. Someone like him.

As he stood there reporting his findings to Rhaenerys in the chamber of the painted table, he felt rage at the lack of options for his sweet princess. She walked slowly around the lit map table, her grandmother sitting at the head of the table as the women listened to his report.

“None of them are suitable for potential consorts, Princess. They are either more concerned with their own Houses legacies or they care more about their own personal interests than yours. They are barely fit to lead their own Houses, let alone have the privilege of being your consort,” he ground out, his anger boiling over before he remembered where he was. Masema cleared his throat and looked at the ground, embarrassed by his outburst. “Forgive me, I should not have let my emotions get the better of me. I will do better in the future.”

“No need, Masema. Your honesty is refreshing and much appreciated on this matter. Knowing you care so much about the future of this House is a good quality, one that should be rewarded,” the Dowager Queen spoke, her voice wizened but still just as assertive. “There will be more that arrive in the coming weeks. Continue your work, there is bound to be someone amongst the nobility that will suit our needs.”

Masema bowed deeply, casting a quick glance to Princess Rhaenerys before departing the chamber and slipping into the shadows again. He was thrilled to serve at her leisure, but he felt a bit of envy towards the man she might marry. None of them deserved her, she was far too heavenly for the likes of those fools. She needed someone who would worship her as he did, but none came even close.

Many weeks went by and all hell broke loose. During another suitor's visit, Queen Visenya passed away in her sleep. Rhaenerys was heartbroken, her cries burned into Masema’s mind as she sobbed in his arms, not allowing anyone else near her when she was so vulnerable. Not even a fortnight later, during a visit to King's Landing, was Maegor impaled on the Iron Throne by his consort, Elinor Costayne, in front of numerous witnesses that included Rhaenerys and Masema. That very same day, Prince Jaehaerys returned to the Red Keep and attempted to usurp Rhaenerys of her birthright. The massacre that happened after would be written about as a dark day for Westeros. Many had flocked to Jaehaerys and supported his claim, but more had followed Princess Rhaenerys thanks to the silver tongue of Masema and the months of traveling he had done in his early days, garnering the support of the smallfolk and even many of the smaller Houses.

At the end of the slaughter of King’s Landing, Rhaenerys stood in the throne room and was crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. The army of Jaehaerys met with the millions of small folk who supported the rightful heir and the outcome was brutal on both sides. Thousands lay dead, burned or maimed in the streets from both sides. Her kin that supported Jaehaerys were executed by Masema, because he refused to have her named kinslayer. Only the twins, Aerea and Rhaella, and her cousins, Alysanne and Rhaena, submitted to her rule outside the new Dowager Queen Elvira, Rhaenerys’s own mother. Despite Alysanne having been Jaehaerys’s wife, even she knew that what he did was wrong. Queen Elinor was executed for the murder of the king and since three of Maegor’s wives were already dead, the remaining bent the knee and were allowed to live out their days as well cared for widows at Dragonstone, under the watchful eye of Elvira. The dragons of the deceased riders were secured in the Dragonpit, to be cared for by the keepers until new riders had come of age.

Despite the chaos, the coronation was life changing for Masema. He always believed that Rhaenerys was beautiful, but she was truly stunning when he saw her sitting the throne for the first time. She wore the crown of her father and grandfather, Dark Sister shining brightly in her hand amid the dull blades that made up the Iron Throne. After that day, the number of men vying for her attention and hand increased exponentially. If he thought the prospects were sorry before, he was truly disappointed by them now.

He knelt at the foot of the Iron Throne, staring up at her as he reported on another batch of suitors, these ones worse than the last. She gave him a little smile when he finished and stood up, speaking in a captivating voice as he looked down at the floor.

“All these men, they are not suitable for me?” She asked as she took a few steps down the stairs of the throne.

“No, my Queen.”

“They will not further the glory of House Targaryen?” Another few steps down.

“No, my Queen.”

“They would not be loyal to me and only me?” The last few steps and she was standing in front of Masema.

“No, my Queen.”

“They would not love me the way you love me?” She walked around him, her fingers dancing across his shoulders and causing him to lean back into her touch.

“No, my Queen.”

“Perhaps I have had you looking for my husband in the wrong place,” she said musingly, stopping in front of her right hand man and placing her fingers under his chin. “Perhaps, my consort is right here, looking so pretty on his knees for me.”

Masema inhaled sharply, looking up at Rhaenerys with confusion and maybe a little excitement in his mismatched eyes. “I-my Queen…”

She chuckled darkly at his stuttering, tracing his lips with the tip of her finger. “Hush, Masema. I see it so clearly now. Those noblemen were never going to be suitable because they weren’t you. Only you can do this for me. I need you, Masema. I must have heirs and I trust only you to fulfill my needs,” her voice lured him in like a siren and he found himself instinctively leaning forward towards her before he caught himself.

“My Queen, I am not worthy of such an honor. I am a sinner, my hands stained with the blood of your enemies. I would not forgive myself if I tainted you with my touch,” he whispered, feeling her fingers thread through his hair as she softly scratched his scalp.

“Then find redemption with me. You, my devotee, shall be absolved of your wrongdoings by giving me what I want and need. Let my touch cleanse you, my sweet Masema,” she whispered in that enchanting tone of hers and he knew he would do anything she asked of him.

He hesitated only for a second before agreeing to her proposal, kissing the inside of her wrist as he was consumed with euphoria at the idea of serving his Dragon Queen in a more intimate manner.

They flew to Dragonstone that afternoon on the back of her dragon, Abraxsas, and were married in the traditions of House Targaryen as the sun set, with her family their only witnesses. Their first kiss was one Masema will remember vividly, the taste of her blood on his tongue the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. He vaguely remembered the small wedding feast but he definitely remembered the wedding night.

He remembered the way she looked like a goddess both in her dress and out of it. He remembered the way he kissed every inch of her perfect body, taking his time memorizing her sensitive spots and paying special attention to them. He certainly remembered tasting her essence for the first time, thinking how this was where he was meant to be and that he could spend the rest of his life praying at her altar like this. The sounds she made as she cried out his name when she finished on his tongue and the way her skin felt against his when they finally became one are forever embedded within his memories.

Once they were both spent and satisfied, she had fallen asleep amidst the silk bedding as a gentle breeze blew in from the sea, the moonlight shining through the large arches and casting a pale light on her unconscious form. He had taken care to make sure she was cleaned up from their intimacy before crawling back into bed beside her. He gazed at her adoringly, feeling appreciative for having been transported to a world where such divinity was within his grasp. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, feeling cleansed of the sins he committed in her name and having found a new way to worship his beloved Rhaenerys.

Taglist: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @valeskafics @gemini-mama @bouncehousedemons @mrsarnasdelicious @synindoodles

#masema dagar #masema #Masema x OC #wheel of time #a song of ice and fire

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mrsarnasdelicious · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 7 (Belated)

Masema Dagar - Angry / Fighting / Make Up Sex

Randomised Character/Person - Prompt from this list

"Can you fucking not, for a change!" Masema sneers. "If you tell me where you have been, sure!" You holler back. Masema's face becomes a sneer. "You are not the boss of me." He hisses. "I am not trying to be. I am just worried." You reply. "I am a grown ass man, I can hold my own." He replies harshly.

You heave a deep sigh.

"It is crawling with Seanchan soldiers out there. I don't want you hurt." You tell him firmly. "I'm fine." Masema barks. "Yes, you are now, but next time you might not!" You reply. Masema grits his teeth. "You are impossible, woman!" He yells. "Oh yeah, am I?" You get into his face. "Then why don't you leave!" You sneer.

Masema shoves you into the nearest wall, kissing you fiercely. You moan into his mouth. He pushes his thigh between yours, shoving up against your sex. You whine, grinding down against him.

"I won't fucking leave you. I love you." He growls between two heated kisses. You tangle your fingers into his silky, soft hair, pulling quite firmly. His lips part from yours. "Say that again." You demand. "I love you." Masema repeats.

He grabs you, slightly too harshly, tossing you onto your bed.

"I love you." He says again, with some remnants of anger in his voice, as he begins to undress. You unlace your dress and rid yourself of it. Masema's eyes darken with greed and rove over your bare skin.

He climbs on top of you. "I love you." He insists, kissing you harshly, grinding his pelvis against yours. You moan into his mouth. He is already rockhard and throbbing. You ruck up your skirts, so he grinds down against your core. "Get my breeches." Masema growls. "Make me." You hiss.

Masema grabs your wrist and puts your hand on his crotch. You give him a firm squeeze. Masema geoans darkly, rolling his hips into your touch. "Do it." He says firmly. "Ask me nicely." You muss, even though you do unlace his breeches. "Don't be difficult." Masema hisses. He bucks forward into your touch. "I am not the one picking a fight here." You tell him, slowly deepling down his breeches, but carefully avoiding his cock. Masema scoffs and keeps trying to thrust his cock into your hands.

Once he notices you are not going to cooperate, he focuses on your sex instead.

He opens your folds and thumbs at your clit. You moan sweetly for him. "I really do love you." Masema rasps, leaning in to kiss at your neck. "I am going to make you feel it, I promise." He whispers against your skin. He rubs you so expertly that you can only moan and rock against him. He grins wickedly down on you.

"Look at what a good girl you are being for me." Masema growls. "I don't want to fight, I love you." He hisses.

He tears open your bodice and leans in to lick, nip and suck at your nipples. You moan, running your fingers into his hair, loosening his tight bun. Masema groans, loving the feeling of your fingers in his hair.

Your inner muscles begin to tense and there is hot, liquid lightning in the pit of your stomach. "I'm close." You whimper. "What do you need?" Masema asks. "Your cock." You whine. "Will you beg?" He asks, pinching your clit. "Gha!" You cry out. "I think that is a yes." Masema taunts. He keeps it up until you are quivering and whimpering beneath him, tugging at his hair. Masema groans at every tug.

"I wa-... I .. Oh fuck." You whine.

Masema slowly backs up, unhanding you. You whine at the loss.

"Will you beg?" Masema asks, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock. You whine loudly, on the edge of climax and robbed of your release. "Go on, I want to hear it." Masema leans in to kiss you, almost chastely. "No, love, please. No now. I just want you." You try. "I love you, too. Just .. just make love to me." You reach up to cup his cheek and down him down to you again.

He pushes forward, breaching your core. You moan into his mouth.

"I love you, too." He hisses, before licking into your mouth.

#masema dagar #masema x reader #the wheel of time #twot #arnas fedaravicius #smut under the cut #I wrote his saying 'I love you' as a bit of love bombing / distracting you

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