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lina-lovebug · 4 months

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I'd Fight The Devil

Pairing: Alastor x fem! reader

Background: reader is Lilith and Lucifers oldest, and resembles Lilith more. Lucifer has a hard time bonding with her because of this, and Alastor decides to step in.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"DAD'S COMING?!"

(Y/N) Morningstar, firstborn daughter of Lilith and Lucifer, was currently having a breakdown over the fact that her father was on his way to the hotel.

She'd have no issue leaving, of course, but Charlie tricked her dear old sister into staying by saying she needed help with the hotel. . .and told her their dad was coming when he was two minutes away.

It's not like she didn't miss him, but things became different once their mother disappeared. Lucifer threw himself into his ideas, and (Y/N) tried maintaining their relationship but he couldn't even stand the look of her.

"I'm sorry! But I thought maybe you guys could talk while he's here?" Charlie suggested with a gulp, twiddling her fingers.

"I'm done trying with dad. If he wants to talk, he can come to me," (Y/N) crossed her arms, firm on her stance.

"I never thought I'd meet someone with worse daddy issues, but here you are, cher," Alastor, with his famous grin, looked down at the Princess of Hell. She huffed, not in the mood for his side comments.

"Alastor, please-"

"He's here!"

"-please fucking hide me!" She ran behind him, despite the mass amount of blonde hair making it obvious.

He chuckled.

Honestly, since meeting the eldest Morningstar, Alastor deemed himself her Protector. Not that the girl wasn't capable or needed him persay, but he cared for her. Being on the aroace spectrum, he wasn't plagued by a selfish desire to fuck her, but it was a sweet concern that slowly turned into a need to be near her.

A need to make her his.

"Hopefully he doesn't-"

"Pumpkin?"

"Fuck," (Y/N) silently cursed under her breath before Alastor stepped aside.

"Hey dad," Lucifer felt a pang in his sinister heart at her tone. She sounded uncomfortable and wouldn't even look at him, but he also remembered that he couldn't look at her at times.

It reminded him of happier times.

Times he didn't want to be reminded of anymore.

"So how've you been? Heard you've got a fancy job now. Probably making loads of money, huh?" He chuckled nervously.

"Dad, it's my company. I made it."

And he couldn't even remember that she did that?

Any dad would remember that his child created her own business.

"Ouch."

"And it's got a fucking duck on the logo. God, dad," She rose her voice, "you can't even remember that?"

"I've been busy, pumpkin-"

"Too busy to call? Too busy to even fucking call?!"

Charlie flinched at the harshness in her voice. She's always been a firecracker but she's never seen her so angry.

"I'm not fighting with you, (Y/N)," Lucifer stepped towards her, "why do you insist on fighting? Especially when I'm here for Charlie."

"Oh, you're here for Charlie?" Her horns started to come up through her skin, rolling back like a rams.

Just like her mom.

"I'm not making this about me. I just wish you'd make the effort instead of it having to be me," She missed who he was.

And during this, Alastor could see the pain on her face. She was furious, and rightfully so.

But he let her fight her own battles.

"I'm sorry that I look like mom. Is that what you want me to say?!"

"Yes!"

He didn't mean it. Of fucking course he didn't mean it, but it slipped out.

"Dad! That's enough!" Charlie ran to her, seeing tears well up in her sisters eyes. "How could you say that?"

"Pumpkin, I-"

"Don't," She sniffled, holding Charlie close, "don't come near me."

But he didn't listen.

He hated being the fact that his little girl was crying because of him.

"I think you've come far enough," Alastor spoke, getting infront of Charlie and (Y/N). He is excellent at saving face, so his pure unadulterated rage was hidden beneath his smile.

She hiccuped behind him, sobbing into Charlie's shoulder.

"Don't make me move you," Lucifer glared.

"And don't make me fucking kill you for hurting what's mine."

His voice turned more static-like than before, his eyes a burning red and his horns outstretched. He was a fucking shield for his Princess, and not even the King of Hell could get through. Lucifer recognized this and humbly backed away, retreating with his tail between his legs.

_ _ ☆ _ _

(Y/N) spent the next hour crying in her room. Over the years, she had started to hate herself for looking like her mom, and Lucifers' confirmation only reaffirmed it.

"Need anything else?" Charlie asked her. Although her sister wasn't searching for redemption, she had her own personal room in the hotel.

"Can you get Alasto-?"

A knock sounded at the door.

"Was he there the whole time?" She sniffled, and a muffled "maybe" came through the door.

Her bed was surrounded by napkins that she quickly placed on her bedside as Charlie allowed Alastor inside.

Alone.

The two of them.

Might as well just throw them condoms and say get to it, is what (Y/N) was thinking. She's known about her crush on The Radio Demon for a few months now, having a fantasy dream here and there, but wasn't much of an active person herself.

"Thank you. I know he tried to fix it, but I couldn't stand to look at him," Her puffy eyes made Alastors eye twitch, still a small spout of anger for her father.

"Of course, my dear," He sat himself next to her on the bed.

"Because your father, although the King of Hell, is a fucking coward", is what he wanted to say but kept those words for himself.

"Did you mean it? That I'm yours?" She asked, her hand inching closer to his.

"I never say anything I don't mean, cher," He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and made the she-demon gasp.

"I thought you hated touch."

He chuckled, "Oh, I do, but not if it's you. Your skin is warm, and it brings me comfort. You bring me comfort."

"You'd have me, even if I want to be glued to your side? Even having petty fights with my dad?"

"Darling, I'd wear your skin if you asked."

"Oh, how romantic," She blushed before both his hands came up to her face, bringing her into a needy kiss. With her, he needed to feel her.

Someday, even all of her.

"And I'd eat demons with you," She whispered against his lips.

"Oh my heart may burst, my dear."

Taglist: @lorkai @droopingdatura @tr1coo @randomuser-89 @abbiedail @evelin1o1 @sseleniaa

#alastor imagine #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine

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microsff · 10 months

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When I gathered the courage to tell my mother that I was her daughter, not her son, she simply said: "I have suspected so, ever since you were born." "Why?" "I was cursed when expecting you. A demon would take my firstborn son." "And?" "It came, looked at you and said 'Nah'."

#microfiction #VSS #writers on tumblr

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penkura · 21 days

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OP Men Holding Their Firstborn for the First Time

Note: This is in relation to my post of headcanons for these five men and their children. I just started thinking of which ones of them will cry, who will freak out over holding a tiny baby, who may reject the thought at first. And it came to this lol. I think the next one in this series will be names for the kids or babies taking their first steps! The baby fever is strong help. For now, please enjoy these men being soft about their offspring!

Ace almost has a heart attack when you try to pass your daughter to him, he swears he felt his heart jump into his throat when you ask if he wants to hold her, saying no that he's fine for now, but you insist he should. He doesn't do so for several hours, instead watching you with her as he works up the courage to have her in his arms.

What if my powers activate and I burn her? What if she cries and kicks? Oh lord, what I drop her??

"Ace, please. You need to hold her."

The look on your face, like you're begging him to hold her, finally makes Ace agree, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed to take your hours old daughter from you. You remind him to be careful of her head, make sure to support her, and smile when you finally get to see the two loves of your life together at last.

She doesn't fuss or cry or kick, instead staying fast asleep and seeming like she's snuggling into the warmth Ace radiates thanks to his Devil Fruit powers. He's just amazed by her, her tiny little nose and the beautiful, dark eyelashes that brush her chubby little cheeks. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen after you of course.

Ace fights not to cry but can't help the few tears that sneak out, wiping them away on his sleeve quickly, the one time he wears a shirt and it's the day you give birth to the newest love of his life.

Gosh, he always knew you were amazing. Now you've given him a family of his own, how could he ever repay you?

"Thank you for her...she's so perfect."

Ace can't seem to tear his eyes away from your daughter's little face, and that's okay with you. She's his baby too, he needs to have some time with her.

"What do you think we should name her, Ace?"

Oh. Oh crap, she does need a name huh?

Law doesn't even have a chance to think about it, he's holding your son immediately after birth since he was the one to help you deliver obviously. Once your baby boy is wrapped in a towel Law hands him right to you before checking to make sure you're doing all right. Your vitals are all normal and stable, he's relived that you're both fine, while he watches you talk to your crying newborn.

You tell him that it doesn't count that he held your son right away since he's your and the boy's doctor, eventually getting Law to sit down and actually hold him as his father instead. Your son kept fussing and crying until Law finally got to hold him, the newborn quieting after a few moments but keeping his eyes shut tight and his little hands in fists as he kept whining.

Once he finally opens his eyes to stare up at Law, it's probably the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life apart from Bepo.

Especially once you catch sight of a few tears in Law’s eyes, making you smile softly as you lean back to just watch them. He's quick to rub at his eyes and make them stop, but the few sniffles you hear every bit tell you he's trying to stop himself from looking like a bigger baby than your literal baby he's holding.

He's never actually held a baby so tiny, not since Lammy was born. And to know this is his son, it's crazy to think about while he watches your baby boy start to fall asleep.

He really does wish his parents, sister, and Cora-san were there. They'd all love to meet your son, and you know he's thinking that, but you hope realizes that all the Heart Pirates are going to love your little boy just as much as his family would have.

And that eases the sting a bit, especially when they all do get to meet your son, and not a single one of them is without tears, beyond happy for you and their beloved captain.

Penguin almost begs to hold your daughter once she's born and you're both stable. Law tries to push him away while he takes your daughter's vitals and measurements, asking how on earth you dealt with Penguin being so clingy the last nine months, which just makes you laugh.

"Go sit with your wife, damn it, I'll bring her over in a minute."

"But, captain--"

"Penguin, just come over here for now."

Penguin sits beside your bed and pouts until Law finally brings your daughter over, about to hand her to you before you direct him to your husband. Both ask if you're absolutely sure you want Penguin to hold her first, until you confirm it, and Law hands your daughter to her father, showing him the right away to hold her, before he leaves the three of you alone for a few minutes.

Penguin is absolutely enthralled with her. She's still fussy from being born, stretching out her little arms and legs, making cute little sounds, and he just can't believe she's finally here. He feels like you two waited an eternity for her to be born, now she has been! She's so small, she fits perfectly in his arms and it makes him want to cry so much.

"She's so tiny."

"And she looks just like you, Peng."

Due to you having twins, you hold your son while Sanji holds your daughter, blubbering like the baby girl was because he's just so happy to have these babies with you. It makes you want to laugh hearing him cry, watching him kiss your daughter's forehead to try and calm her down while he dotes on her and you give your son attention.

"You're an angel, a perfect little gift from heaven!"

When you finally swap which baby you're each holding, Sanji still cries, happy to have a son too! He never really thought you'd have twins, or that they'd be fraternal on top of it! Both are so precious to him, you're precious to him, this little family you've now built together.

Your daughter has his hair, but your son looks just like you to Sanji. He kisses your son's forehead before looking at you and your newborn daughter, still unable to believe this is going to be his life from now on. You, and him, and your two tiny blessings.

"I love you so, so much."

He can't wait to call Zeff and let him know the good news.

Zoro has no worries or qualms or tears when holding your son for the first time. Actually, it doesn't hit him for a few hours that he has a child now.

Your son is so quiet most of his first day outside the womb, sleeping and eating, only fussing when he needs something, but you're able to calm him down quickly. The way you're able to do that when this is your first baby impresses Zoro more than anything today.

It's only once you're asleep and he's holding your son again that it really gets to him. There's another person depending on him now, this one being his own flesh and blood, his newborn son that already looks just like him. His hands are so tiny, he's not even able to fully get his little fingers around one of Zoro's fingers.

Chopper made sure you both were left alone for the day, Zoro taking a bed next to yours and laying back with your son on his chest that night. That's when he realized just how small your baby is. His hand covered the newborn's back completely, his tiny hand fisting Zoro's shirt as he slept, small coos and whines coming from him every now and then. Zoro looks at you for a moment, before back to your son with a smile.

Your son may not have been planned, but Zoro's more than accepting of how his life is turning out.

Note 2: I am absolutely willing to elaborate on these men and their children. If anyone wants to see something specific, just send me a message! I'll be posting more of my own thoughts too!

#one piece x reader #reader insert #roranoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #penguin x reader #sanji x reader #blackleg sanji x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #black leg sanji x reader #op men as dads

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 months

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Hey :) Hope you're doing well, I read some of your Aemond fanfics, and they were great. I was hoping you could write a Jacaerys x Alicent daughter fanfic. Something about an arranged marriage, you can take it anyway you wish, but could there be some angst in there. with the prompts 1. ‘’My blood is not noble enough for a prince.’’ and 14. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

Thank you :)

Request: Alicent’s second daughter to marry Jacaerys to unite the houses

Thank you for the compliment on my Aemond fics <3 More will be coming soon. Also, I was not able to use the first prompt as it doesn’t work with the characters. Alicent’s daughter’s blood is more noble than Jacaerys since her father is king and his mother is princess. I hope you still enjoy what I wrote for you <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

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Twenty years ago, when Viserys made Rhaenyra his heir, the knights and houses who swore allegiance to him had no choice but to accept her as their future queen. She was the king’s only child. But now that the king had a male heir — and a spare —, there were possibilities that people would oppose her claim to the throne and demand Aegon to wear the crown.

To prevent the situation from happening, the king and queen, along with Rhaenyra, made an accord that Rhaenyra would ascend the throne following the king’s death, but to unite the houses, the princess’s firstborn son — and heir — would marry Alicent’s second daughter and, one day, inherit the throne together.

Like any political marriage, you nor Jacaerys had a choice or say. At least he wasn’t an older lord you had met once or twice. You knew Jacaerys — a little. He was kind, loyal and protective. He was a good man.

Prior to that arrangement, your grandsire, Otto, had been talking to you about having a tourney to meet suitors, but your mother had been quick to oppose to the idea. She didn't want you to be the victim of his scheming like she had been at your age.

You were drawing under the weirwood tree when Jacaerys stepped into the yard, having just arrived in King’s Landing. Its red leaves matched the color of your dress, making him smile. He liked you in red.

‘’I was told by the servants that my wife was out here.’’

Immersed in your drawing, you didn’t hear the prince approaching. You only glanced up when you heard your new title, the sound of his voice almost making you drop your charcoal onto your dress. Your mother would have been furious.

A soft laugh left your lips. Moons have passed since the wedding, yet being called a wife still felt strange. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

‘’Me either,’’ Jacaerys admitted. ‘’What are you drawing, Princess?’’

You reflected his smile as he approached. ‘’Just some birds.’’

Jacaerys walked up to the tree and sat beside you. He had a bit of dirt on his jacket from sparring with Ser Criston in the training yard.

‘’How was your training session with Ser Criston?’’ you asked, raising a hand to run through the front of his hair, fixing an unruly curl that was on the wrong side.

The older he got, the more he looked like Ser Harwin Strong. He had the same dark brown curls. But you would never dare saying that out loud. Although you meant it as a compliment, the mere insinuation of his illegitimacy was a vile insult to the crown — to the princess.

‘’I disarmed him twice…and I ate some dirt.’’ The brunet grimaced, the earthy taste still lingering on his tongue. ‘’It was a blessing that no one was watching.’’

‘’Mayhaps you need an opponent that is closest to your age?’’ you suggested, not finding it fair that he was sparring against a grown man who had years of practice as a knight. ‘’You could ask Aemond to train with you? He is training for the upcoming tourney, but I’m sure he would a accept to help you.’’

Jacaerys hummed, then leaned back against the weirwood tree, taking a moment of rest. He watched with quiet admiration as you continued your drawing, fascinated by the way you could, with a few strokes of charcoal, illustrate pretty much anything. Birds, flowers, dragons, or portraits of your family.

Much like your twin brother, you favored solitude over socializing. When the betrothal was announced to you, you assumed that this tranquility would be disrupted, but it turned out that Jacaerys enjoyed it too. Partially. While he often thrived on the excitement and duty that came with his heir title, he found it relieving that he could find peace and comfort in your silent company.

‘’I’m going back to Dragonstone in the morrow,’’ the prince announced, breaking the serenity of the quiet.

‘’How long for?’’

Jacaerys shifted, fearing the conversation that was to come. ‘’No. I’m going back to Dragonstone…permanently.’’

You stopped drawing, a sudden knot forming in your stomach. ‘’And what of me?’’

‘’You can join. Or not. That is up to you.’’

‘’And what of us? What of our marriage, Jace?’’ you asked, turning your head toward him.

When you got wed in the tradition of Old Valyria, you pledged to one another that you were one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Jacaerys returning to Dragonstone would break your duties to your House.

‘’Dragonstone is easy to travel from and back on dragonback.’’ You began picking at your fingers, and Jacaerys noticed, taking your hand in his to stop you. ‘’I tried, but King’s Landing is not my home. I don’t belong here.’’

‘’I can’t leave my family.’’

‘’I left mine for you.’’

You pulled your hand from his hold and narrowed your eyes at him. Jacaerys moving to King’s Landing after the wedding ceremony was your father’s idea, not yours. How dared he blame you for a decision you didn't make?

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd #jacaerys hotd

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danytar · 2 months

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“My joy& Pride” [Dad!Aegon X Sister!Wife!Reader]

Warnings: Death of a character - offensive language - anxiety - Incest

Summary: aegon's wife insists on sending her little son and daughter away...during the war to keep them safe.

After the murder of The King firstborn son the realm goes into mourning for the little prince. It was a very dark and difficult times for both of the king and his queen Y/n...

Now they have to put their grief aside and take care of their other children.The Queen was able to control her grief and return to her duties While her husband, the king, swore and promised her that he would take revenge for their son.

“I will not send my children away Y/n..this is a final decision”. Aegon said to her with a serious tone.

“Do you think they will be safe here? Do you want to slaughter them? ”. she replies quickly in a higher tone than usual staring at her husband with serious sharp eyes.

“That's not the point, my dear.. Do you think I would feel safe if I sent them to strangers to take care of them?”. He looks at her now waiting for her answer.

“They are not strangers, they are my friends ”. she replies

“They are still strangers How can we know if they betrayed us? And sold our children to the blacks?”.He gets up from his chair and walks towards her.

“Dove, please.. They are as precious to me as they to you..I won't let anything hurt them”. He continues speaking while gently placing his hands on his queen's arms.

“But.. Jaeha- He interrupts her response, saying “Jaehaerys murder was a terrible accident.. I know.How much did this hurt you..”. He looked into her eyes and spoke again.

“Our children will be safe here.. in front of our eyes ”.

She sighed for a moment and didn't know what to say. She was lost in her thoughts and her gaze wandered around the room away from her husband's eyes.

“My love...look at me ”. He responds in a soft voice trucking her hair behind her ear.

She looks into his eyes.. Aegon smilies softly at her. His thumb traced a small smile on her lips.. “Now show that sweet smilie of yours ”.

She chuckles sweetly “you're an idiot ”. She hits his shoulder playfully.. “An idiot? ”He raises an eyebrow and then teases her “Is this how you speak to your king? ”.

she smilies and nodded.. “I think I should punish you, my queen ”. he chuckles.

The queen Y/n was in her daughter's room braiding her own hair.. Jaehaera was innocent and sweet girl.. Literally her father daughter. The Queen tried hard not to see Jaehaerys in her so as not to treat her as a substitute.

“Do you love me mother? ”. The little princess speaks.

Y/N looks at her girl and smilies softly.. “Yes darling.. so much”. The Queen answers in a soft tone.

“And father? ”. she replies.. “We both love you sweetie ”. Y/n smiles and gently strokes her daughter's hair.

“I love you two as well”.

“mother...why did they killed my brother?”.

The queen's face tensed at this question but she sighs and answers her daughter.. “Because they are evil people who want to hurt me and your father ”.

“But.. he's innocent ”. she replies

“I know sweetie... I know.. ”. She whispers and hugs her daughter to her chest.

“It's not your fault with what adults do.. ”

“I don't want you or father to get hurt ”. Jaehaera replies with a sweet smilie and wipes her mother's tears.

Y/N smilies a warm smile and looks at her sweet girl.The princess wraps her little arms around her mother's neck.

“What are my girls doing? ”. Aegon's warm, loving voice interrupts them.

The princess breaks the hug and looks at her father “Your grace”. She node gently.

Aegon grinned at the sight of his daughter. He quickly walks over to her and holds her in his arms “Did my beautiful little princess missed me?”. He gently tapped his nose against his daughter's nose.

Y/N smilies at the view. He notices her smile and says “My doves, I was looking for you.. We have a meeting now”.

“Now? But..we were having a good time ”. The princess frowns gently.

“Yes, sweetie, sorry ”. he looks at her and smilies.

“It won't take long, sweetheart, I promise ”. her mother said with a pretty smilie.... “Yes darling ”. Aegon replies.

The king approached and took his wife's hand.. “Wait! father”. the little princess exclaims

Aegon turns around with a warm smile on his face then he kneels until he reaches his daughter's height “What is it my joy?”he looks at her.

She takes a small rose from her little rosey crown and she tucked it between her father's silver locks.

He smiles and places a tender kiss on her cheek.Then he gets up and leaves his precious princess's room with his wife.

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty.. but the council prefer that we must send the princess and prince to a safe place”

“Tell him! He's stubborn ”. Y/N replies.

“My dear queen I think we've discussed this already”. Aegon he replies in a serious and confident tone as he sits up straight in his chair with his hands on the council table.

“I know, my love.. but- He interrupted her, looking at her “Y/N...I have told you before ”.

“Aegon right my dear..I don't want my grandchildren away from me”. Alicant replies to her daughter.

“Mother-

Their meeting is interrupted by one of the kingsguard. He enters the room breathlessly. “Your- your grace A sensitive incident occurred in the princess's chamber”.

“WHAT HAPPENED? ”. Y/N replies with a worry tone.

“SPEAK BEFORE I HAVE YOUR TONGUE! ” Aegon growls at him as he gets up from his chair.

“I'm afraid I can't say..”.

The king kicks his chair and walks towards the guard, holding his dagger “Speak before I-”. the sound of the council room door being opened interrupts him.

He saw his wife leaving so as he let the guard and walk behind her.. “Your grace the meeting-

He threw his dagger towards the council table, piercing the wood as a warning to them that whoever prevents him from leaving will regret it.

The queen walks towards her daughter's rooms, her feet trembling and her heart beating faster than ever she felt her ribs contract and her breath become more severe as she got closer and closer...

She felt as if she had been punched in the face with the hilt of a sword.. She saw the maids gathering in her daughter's room. She entered slowly she didn't say a word.. She got closer and closer..

The servants made way for her to see her little girl lying on her bed with her toy in her hand.. Her sweet face was pale and her skin was cold as ice... and there was blood flowing from her little nose and mouth..

It was a terrifying sight and the queen immediately collapsed and fell on her knees. When Aegon arrived and saw the scene unfolding before him, he felt something shatter inside him.

He dismissed the servants from the room and approached to his daughter's bed..

“I- I have Told you!”She shouted at him.. “It's because of you!! You killed her ” Y/N screamed again and collapsed violently.

“Y... y- y- you”.Her lips tremble as she says the words.

He did not answer her, but tears fell to his cheek he tucked her silver locks behind her ear. He felt like he was a real killer..

He looked behind him to find his wife kneeling on the cold ground, her tears flowing abundantly like rain on a stormy night.

He kneels next to her and hugs her to his chest.. She hits his chest with small fists and stutters between her words.. “M- my-My precious daughter”... She sniffles..

“Aeg-

“Shhhhh I'm sorry”. he whispers and a small tears sparkle at the corner of his eyes.

The king was standing on the balcony of the Red Keep, staring at the night sky. Lost in his thoughts..

Suddenly he pulled out the small rose that tucked between his silver locks he looks at the rose and small tears shed in his eyes.. pain and sadness..

He goes to his wife's room to find that she has calmed down now but signs of sadness were still on her face.

“It was our duty to protect our children... but- ” She muttered, with broken voice.. “We failed.. Jaehaerys... Jaehaera.. they.. they.. they deserve better parents”.

He looked at her, then approached and knelt at her chair “Don't say that.. We did what we could-

“It wasn't Enough!”. She muttered.

“My sweetheart please-”She interrupts him before he finishes his sentence.. “She was good.. kind.. Since the day she was born.. I don't know from where she came from” She gasped. “She was nothing like me.. not jealousy not mean.. so pure.. so beautiful ”

“No.. don't say that you're amazing”He whispers back and cups her cheeks.

“They did not rest until they brought us to the ground ”. she replied and looked at him.

He leans closer and looks into her lavender eyes “Fuck them.. fuck the crown.. fuck the throne.. fuck everyone who isn't us”... He continued. “There is no one in the world but us.. what they took from us..this is plot against us.. we will pay it back a hundred times over.. do you hear me? ”

She nods and hugs him.. he hugs her back and his hands are stroking her hair..

They will regret..

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon headcanons #aegon the second #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd aegon #aegon x reader #aegon fanfic #aegon x you #aegon targaryen #hotd s2 #king aegon ii targaryen #aegon the elder #tom glynn carney x reader #tom glynn carney #aegon ii fanfic #aegon targaryen x you

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chososdiscordkitten · 2 months

Text

Lord Choso Kamo.

Synopsis: bridgerton au- 22 yrs old nd have yet to marry, only to be set up in an arranged marriage to Choso ^-^

Pairing: Choso x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor readers appearance, Choso is 26, enemies (on one side) to lovers, reader is sharp tongued and stubborn, plotttttt booooo, just a niche fic I couldnt stop thinking about ^-^, catered for a very specific audience, if you get it- YOU GET IT.

Presented to society at seven and ten. One of the many young potential brides.

You had asked your mother to allow you to wait a few years- focus on your studies instead of marrying you off. As lacking in presence as your father was, even he said, ‘Absolutely not.’

The first year had a handful of potential husbands. But none of them could nack your witty remarks towards them. Causing your second year to have an even less amount of suitors.

The second year, you were already deemed a spinster by your parents. Attending balls and only sitting on the sidelines in the very same gowns you've worn before- only ever seeing it as a meaningless affair. Only present to watch the other young ladies receive marriage offers before you did.

By the time you were two and twenty, your mother and father saw you and saw a sort of disappointment. An only child- raised and trained for marriage- and refusing to let go of the silly notion of going through life unmarried.

They blamed you- but in reality it was a mix of their inability to keep up with the fashions of the seasons. Having to re-wear dresses didn’t help you in the situation either. That and the lack of an eye-catching dowry. Seemed as though no man wanted to marry a woman with a mere four figure dowry, no matter how beautiful.

One afternoon, as you read a book in the drawing room, you sat on the couch lazily, wearing a day dress that you deemed obsolete—dressing up for no one but the servants and your mother.

And your mama spouting- “I do not know why you insist on filling your mind with nonsense.” Pacing back and forth a few feet from you.

Causing you to lower your book and look at her with pursed lips. “It is not nonsense, mama,” you snipped, lining up your eyes with the words again. “It is Shakespeare.” you muttered, a small smile curling on your lips at the look on your mother’s face.

She was about to start speaking again- only your father walked into the room with an unaccustomed smile on his lips. Almost exasperated, “And what is it you have to smile about, my lord?” your mother scoffed, sitting on the couch across from you with a sigh.

“I have found a proper suitor for your daughter,” he said, causing your shoulders to tense and your book to lower in disbelief.

“I am your daughter as well- father.” you scoffed. Lightly pinching the bridge of your nose and sitting up.

The gleam that shone on your mother’s eyes was one you hoped you’d never see. “Who?” she asked, breathless and eager to see who would finally take you from their hands.

Your father flashed his eyes to you, almost worried for the words that dared spill from his lips- “The lord Kamo.”

You closed your eyes with a soft sigh. You had been appropriately raised to not talk back to your father, but the vein that pulsed in your mind when he said that name almost made you snap at him.

Lord Choso Kamo.

To others, just another lord without a bright and shiny title. Firstborn son and heir of the Kamo name, his mother gave birth to 8 more boys- all one year apart. And on the eighth, his mother died.

His father remarried within the year, speculated with a woman he had an affair with when his mother was still alive. Giving Choso one last little brother.

And to you, three years your senior. Choso was a playful child growing up. Chasing you around- stepping on your shoes and stealing your ribbons at the various balls you would attend with your mother.

But somewhere around the time his father died, he became more serious. Now head of the Kamo family at a mere five and ten, he grew taller and more serious-faced. And no longer picked fun at you, nor chased you around. If anything, he ignored you.

Even as a child, you had developed a special kind of disdain towards him. Seeing him as an ill-raised boy, blamed for his misdeeds by your mother. “But mama- he is the one who chases me!” you would defend when she would pull you away by the arm.

And in your teen years- you would avoid him like a plague. Holding your head high as your eyes looked over at him- his eyebrows, thick and furrowed with severe eyes scanning the ballroom.

You disliked Choso not only for his actions as a child but also because he had a dismissive aura when it came to these balls—and when it came to you now, apparently. Far too mature and busy to even hold a conversation with you now.

Only once when you were four and ten did you approach him. Standing much taller than you at seven and ten, hands behind his back with a stern look in his eye.

Choso stood near the far wall of the ballroom, his eyes scanning the lively room for his little brothers. To make sure they did not stain his legacy even further than his father had.

“I think you owe me a dance, my lord,” you spoke, standing beside him but not bothering to look over at him, dressed in a dark plum suit, a color he had taken a liking to at his coming of age.

His face churned in confusion, “Owe you a dance? Whatever for.” he spoke- improper and uncaring of this supposed debt you imposed onto him.

“For stealing my ribbons and stepping on my shoes.” tilting your head slightly, so sure you were correct.

He only scoffed, walking away from you and collecting his rowling brother.

Choso’s coldness against you was upsetting. Not because you wanted his friendship but because of how improper and indifferent he was when it came to you. Not even bidding a goodbye before walking off.

In the third year you were on the market, you stood beside him once more—you, freshly twenty, and he, three and twenty. Thinking if no other man would have you, who was the Lord to deny you?

It was not as though he was the worst man of the bunch. A decent name, a decent fortune- and a better-looking face than most suitors. His only flaw was how standoffish he could be and how improper he was with you.

Yet still. You gave the man one last chance.

“You still owe me a dance, my Lord,” you spoke, watching the people dance at the center of the room. Choso looked over to you, quickly scanning the light pink gown you wore that evening, surely to attract a suitor.

Your gaze caught the bags below his eyes, a side effect of the late nights spent in his study with only candlelight illuminating the mess of books his late father left him. And his long hair tied back, giving you an unobstructed view of his strong jaw.

“Should you not be looking for a husband?” he spewed, looking back at the dancing crowd and lightly widening his eyes. Unable to see the youngest sibling he was watching.

You let out an unamused laugh, “That is what I am doing, is it not?” looking over at him with a pleased expression.

“No, you are talking to me-” he murmured. Walking off and trying to find the pink-haired sibling with a penchant for wandering off.

After that, you swore never to speak to him again. There was a spark of hatred in your heart when you saw his stupid, serious face at the balls. And when his eyes caught on yours, you would look away, uncaring if people saw. If anything, you wanted people to see your dislike for that brinking-on beastly man.

So when your father said that he- Lord Choso Kamo was to be your husband, you almost hemorrhaged on the spot.

You did not speak to your father for three days and two nights. At the dinner table, you stayed silent. Picking at your food and avoidant of any conversation. And your mother held more than enough excitement for you both. Planning the flowers, the gown- all before the Lord even proposed.

And when your father grew tired of your silence- he shouted at you to speak.

You bowed your head, tears in your eyes—“Please,” you said in a tone of voice you had not used since you were a girl. Peering your eyes up at him, full of salt water and a weary lip. You said, “Please, do not make me marry that man, father.”

Though your papa was generally uncaring when it came to what you felt. The way you looked at him- he saw a glimmer of his little girl in your eyes. The same little girl that would cling to his leg, scared of the strangers he would present her to.

Your father took your hands in his- and you were so sure he would call it off.

“I will allow you a two-week courting period.” He whispered, watching the tears spill from your eyes. “You must marry him,” he spoke your name softly.

It wasn’t until the following day you heard your father speaking to your mother- the stoic man practically in shambles at the thought of using his only daughter as a form of paying his debts.

Before the late Lord Kamo passed, your father owed him a substantial amount of money. A debt your father was still unsure how he would pay. And the news of Choso’s father's death washed over your papa as a wave of relief.

So when a six and twenty-year-old Lord Kamo wrote to your father- something along the lines of; ‘I have in my late father’s books that you owed him an undisclosed sum of money. I would like to discuss this face to face-’

Your father thought up a million things—selling off the silverware, the dresses, and letting go of the staff—but it didn’t amount to half as much as he owed.

So when your father met up with the young Lord Kamo at a gentleman's club, he was far too inebriated. Drinking to fill the uncomfortability he felt with the severity Choso imbued in his words.

“It is my understanding you have yet to marry?” your father spoke- glass half empty in his hand as he looked at the brown-haired man before him.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the drunk man and squinting. “I have yet to.”

“Then the matter is settled. You may have—*hic* My daughter,” he said, thralling his arm around Choso’s shoulder with a happy smile. “She is well-read. And you have been friends since youth, have you not?”

Choso parted his lips to speak—“Phenomenal!” your father said, “We will discuss the technicalities later,” ending the conversation and continuing to another topic.

In Choso’s mind, he knew the impending task of finding a wife had run at him at full speed. And rather than slotting through the many carefully primped young ladies, Choso found peace in knowing if he should have to marry, let it at least be you who he does.

The least objectionable option. Finding it revolting how the many mamas would peddle their overly young daughters to grown men. Be it you- three years his junior and knowing you far better than he would know any of them.

And when your mother advised you that the Lord Kamo had asked to see you- you felt a pool of nerves and unease form in your tummy. Knowing that the two-week period your father had granted you, would begin the minute, he would come see you.

Your mother mulled over what you were to wear when he would visit. Trying to find the best option- an option that would make your beauty distracting enough to ignore your sharp tongue.

“Mama, I’ve already told you- he is not interested in marriage” you insisted- your mother ordering you to hold a dress against your body.

“Hush up.” she insisted, causing you to sigh.

Tossing a light pink chiffon gown onto your bed- “I have known him since I was a child- mama, he knows what I am like.” sitting onto your bed with a scoff, “A frilly gown I’ve worn before won’t change his opinion on me.”

Your mother shouted your name- “Your father has said that he already agreed- mouthy and far too mature as you are. Lord Kamo has agreed to marry you.” she insisted. Making your mind reel at the possibility that he only agreed to vex you, knowing him.

As your ladies maid fixed your hair- looking into the mirror and thinking of your foiled plans. Plans that had been entirely derailed simply because the Lord said ‘yes’ to marrying you.

And as you sat in the drawing room- back slouched and a bored look on your face. Your mother did not hesitate to slap your back when the footman walked in “The Lord Kamo, to see you- my lady.” he directed at you.

Straightening your back- fixing your face as you watched the man stand at the doorway. Flowers in hand and with his hair pushed behind his ears. Unfurrowed eyebrows and nervous eyes looking at you.

You rose to your feet, “My lord.” you exasperated, lowering in a half-assed curtsey as he slightly bowed.

“My lady.” he spoke- almost unsure and far too formal for the relationship you had with him.

You clenched your jaw looking at him- your mother leaning to your ear, “Be kind, and smile.” she instructed through clenched teeth. Sitting at a tea table a few paces from the couch you were sitting on.

Choso took a step towards you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he mumbled- yet another thing you disliked about him. He spoke unclear words far too often.

You plastered a false smile on your lips, reaching for them- “Thank you. My lord.” dropping the smile and holding them out for your ladies’ maid to take them. Thinking of a snide comment, only laughing softly to yourself at- ‘make sure to leave them in the sun till next week.’ you said in your mind.

“Did I say something funny?” he asked- watching you sit onto the couch and following you.

You eased your expression. “No, unfortunately you didn’t.” you spit. Hearing a slight cough come from your mother, reminding you to be kind.

Choso parted his lips to speak- “May I ask you why you agreed to marry me?” you interrupted- a hushed tone so your mother would not scold you. Eyebrows stern and determined to know his reasonings.

The Lord squinted his eyes slightly with a furrowed brow. “I have yet to ask for your hand?” he queried- as though you had the answers that you, yourself, were looking for.

“My father says you agreed to marry me in two weeks.” deadpan face looking at his confused one.

The corner of the Lord’s lip curled, “Your father was drunk when he struck that deal.”

You rolled your eyes and looked off to the side. “So you do not wish to marry me.” you stated rather than asked. So eager to hear the words- ‘I do not want to marry you.’

“I did not say that.”

You almost groaned in frustration at his words. Only your twitchy eye went unnoticed by the man sitting before you. “Then?” you pressed, pursed lips and squinty eyes awaiting his declaration- or an excuse.

“I am reaching the age to take a bride.” he started, bordering on a mumble that only frustrated you even more.

“And why not take on a well-behaved child bride-”

Choso’s expression churned in a flash of disgust. “I did not choose you,” he spoke your name in a whisper. Improper as ever- not even using your family name with a simple ‘miss’ before it.

You blinked harshly at your name callously spoken as though you were already wed.

“Your father offered-”

“And you accepted.”

“Because I have known you since I was a boy.” he defended, “I found marrying you to be simpler than carding through the many eligible young-” you sighed at his droning on. Giving you every excuse besides the one you wanted to hear.

“You also said 'yes' to this union, did you not?” he asked. You looked off to the side, scoffing at his assumption.

Intertwining your fingers together and pursing your lips, “This union is everyone’s choice but mine.” you muttered. Looking down to your hands with a frustrated look on your face.

Choso called your name again- this time in worry. Making the vein in your temple pulse from his improper tendencies. “If you do not want to marry- I will not force you to.”

“You do not know a thing.” you spouted, causing your mother to look up from the embroidery cloth to see why you were seething in your words. And Choso only smiled at your mother, assuring her it was okay.

Clearing your throat- standing from the couch and urging him to do the same. “I think it’s time for you to take your leave, my lord.” You spoke- hearing your mother stand.

“Can’t you stay for tea?” she asked- only for Choso to look at you. Mouthing a soft ‘No,’ instructing him to assure your mother that was not necessary.

The next time Choso saw you was at a ball. You stood near a wall, a pondering look on your face, an unsipped glass of lemonade in hand, and an empty dance card on your wrist.

Looking off as though you were physically here- but your mind was elsewhere.

The Lord came up to you for the first time since he was seven. Calling your name in a mutter and pulling you from your thoughts.

“Yes, my lord?” you spoke- refusing to turn and look at him.

He inhaled sharply, “Have you thought more on-”

“It is all I think about these days.”

Choso tried thinking back on the lessons he was taught as a boy- how to approach a lady and how to ask for a dance.

He parted his lips to speak- “What is it you want, my lord?” you asked, interrupting his attempts to communicate with your tone bordered on frustration.

“I owe you a dance, do I not,” speaking your name with the same thoughtlessness as he always held. You sighed, placing your glass on the table beside you.

Looking over at him with a peaked brow, “Why is it now you want to dance? Not once have you ever shown interest before.”

He scoffed softly, “I aim to court you- dancing is part of it, is it not?”

You let out an unamused laugh, “If dancing meant courting- you declined that proposition long ago, my lord.” taking a sarcastic tone, holding your head high as he furrowed his eyebrows.

Unknowing what you were talking about, Choso squinted his eyes. “Why do you speak to me in that tone?” he looked over at you, trying to recall if he had insulted you or even done something to warrant your curt behavior.

You sighed harshly, bored of this conversation- and irritated that Choso had the guts to ask that. “My mother is summoning me-” Trying to find an escape from this conversation; you chose to lie.

Turning to face him, pursed lips and your jaw slightly clenched, “Good evening, my lord.” you spat, his eyes widening and scoffing.

As you turned to walk away, he called your name- loud enough for more than enough people to turn their heads to the source. Seeing you still in Choso's presence, his face troubled as he looked at the back of your head.

The control you had in not turning around and snapping at the man, was control you weren’t sure you held. You only breathed in a small breath and continued your steps, hearing the Lord step behind you as you walked out of the ballroom.

Nodding your head 'no' as you stepped onto the terrace- breathing in the crisp evening air and clenching your jaw. Your name was spoken again, in the same uncaring tone he always held when he referred to you.

“If I have done something to offend you-” You turned around swiftly, angered by the face before you and your eye threatening to twitch.

“If? If you have done something?” you scoffed, finding it unbelievable that he didn’t even know what he did wrong. Choso turned his head, awaiting your explanation as your gloved hands balled into fists at your side.

Choso parted his lips to speak, your name falling from his lips carelessly, making you even more upset. “Please, tell me if I have done something wrong.” The urgency in his tone fell on deaf ears.

“I do not wish to speak of this any longer-” you muttered, “My Lord.” you gritted, a breath leaving his lips at the name.

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” he lightly grimaced, cringing every time you’ve ever referred to him as that.

The control you held slipping from the satin covering your fingers. “Because it is polite—something you do not harbor,” you spat, shivering at the crisp breeze brushing against your arms.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows- even more confused than before at your proclamation. You scoffed- “Do not pretend you are unaware of what I speak of.” your chest puffing and slightly spilling from the top of your gown.

You abandoned the topic, knowing he would only look at you with the same stupid expression in wait for you to further elaborate.

Turning away from Choso and placing your hands on the balcony’s edge, sighing softly before a smile crept onto your lips.

“We have yet to marry, and we are arguing already,” you whispered, looking out into the gardens with a pummeling headache.

Choso sighed, his face troubled. “I’ve already told you—if this marriage is not of your will, I shall decline your father.”

You breathed a sharp exhale from your nose at his claim, knowing it was not up to you nor him. It was a duty your own father entrusted to you.

“It is of my will.” you muttered, hearing his footsteps creep beside you. Looking out to the same view as you.

“Then why is it you hold such disdain for me?” he whispered, looking to the side of your face in worry.

Dropping the veil of anger to answer his question in earnest. “Do you remember when we were children? And you would chase me around the Easter gardens?” you asked, taking a softer tone and looking to the very same gardens below you.

“Or when you would step on my freshly polished shoes- or steal the ribbons of my hair?” Looking back to him with a soft expression- watching his face churn to a pensive one.

A small smile formed on your lips, “I was able to forgive all of that- but when I was ten and four, you declined my offer for a dance.” your mouth in taught purse, watching his lips part to defend himself.

“And when I was twenty, I offered again.” the corner of your lip curling in disbelief, “And you declined- again.”

“This is all because I refused to dance with you?” Choso asked in a half laugh.

You huffed a smile, “No, not because you declined my offers for dancing, my lord.” clenching your teeth and the seething below your skin burning in your cheeks. “Because after all of that- you somehow managed to foil my plans for the future.”

Sighing in a straggled breath, “After all of that- you agreed to marry me. And go on as though we have been friends since childhood.” You nodded in disappointment.

“But we have been-” Choso stated in almost a question.

“You bullied me in childhood. We are not friends.” You spat in a whisper, turning and taking a step away. Only for his hand to grasp onto your clothed forearm, holding you back with an amused expression.

“Bullied?” he asked in a surprised tone. “If anyone was a bully- it was you,” speaking your name and looking at your angered expression.

Choso loosened his grip on your arm, “Do you not recall? When you would pull my ears or push me?” he smiled, remembering the memories he held fondly.

“Or when I would call you 'my lady'- and you would snap at me? Tell me that was not your name- and that you were no lady?” he scoffed with an earnest smile. You furrowed your eyebrows, barely able to remember the memory he was referring to.

“If I am so horrible- why did you agree to marry me?” you whispered, the smile on his face only growing in the slightest.

His cheeks slightly flushed and daring to inch closer to you. “I do not find you horrible,” the tone he took when saying your name made your own cheeks threaten to warm. “I never have.” he smiled.

Watching your tight expression soften, you parted your lips slightly. Darting your eyes back to the ballroom and seeing a pair of debutants whispering whilst looking through the doors.

You cleared your throat, taking a step back and exhaling a shaky breath. Choso furrowed his eyebrows and looked over to where you had looked, “A dance, my lady?” he offered his hand out to you.

You took it with a sigh, what you interpreted as anger filling your cheeks. Allowing him to guide you back to the ballroom.

A hand on your waist and other holding yours, taking precise steps as your eyes avoided his. Thinking of a way to break the tension without stuttering. “If you insist on marrying me- I ask we speak of agreements beforehand,” you expressed, avoiding the gaze Choso held on you.

His hand guiding you into a waltz, “Agreements?” he murmured, snapping your eyes back to him and nodding.

“Yes, agreements. Discuss what shall happen if we marry.” you reiterated, keeping a stern brow and ignoring the wisp of a smug expression on his face.

Choso lightly smiled, “Very well.” he murmured again, making you nod your head no with heat rising in your cheeks.

“Bring freesias for my mother- and stop mumbling.” you seethed, watching his smile deepening as he heard your demands.

(a.n) sooo niche and I overindulged I know, but I don't CARE.

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