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improbable-outset · 3 months

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📄 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Married couple, smut, lactation kink, breastfeeding, Cunnilingus, kissing. MINORS DNI!🔞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After you gave birth to your first daughter, Miguel spends the night admiring the changes that motherhood has done to your body.

The apartment finally hushed after hours of crying and whining. You finally put your baby to sleep, rocking her gently in your arms.

You gently placed her in the crib, taking one quick glance at her peaceful expression. A testimony of your growing family and your shared love with Miguel.

Her cheeks were plump, and she had crimson eyes and talons that mirrored her father’s features. However, she didn’t have the ability to control when they appeared— usually she was excited or agitated— so you would often have to give her mittens in public.

You checked the baby camera was fitted properly and the temperature of the room was okay before dimming the lights and exiting the nursery quietly.

There was a sense of solace that shrouded you as you made your way to the bedroom.

It had been two whole days you were home alone while Miguel was probably in another dimension. It was hard to predict when he'd come back home and the longer he was out, the more your heart yearned.

But the feeling quickly vanished as you saw a familiar figure outside your bedroom window.

Miguel swung into the bedroom balcony with his web before opening the balcony door to step inside. He had his full suit on but as soon as he was inside the bedroom, his mask fizzled out.

It had become a routine for him to use the balcony to get in the apartment rather than the front door to avoid getting spotted.

He ran a hand over his disheveled hair before his expression softened when he saw you. You must’ve looked exhausted because he was approaching you with caution.

“Hey you…” you closed the distance between the two of you and wrapped your arms around him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer.

He leaned in to kiss you deeply, making up for all those hours you were separated.

He pulled back from the kiss while still keeping his arms around you. “Is she sleeping?”

“Yeah she’s asleep. Do you wanna see her?”

“In a bit,” he said before lifting you up in his arms briefly and placing you on the bed.

This caught you by surprise.

“Mig…”

You didn’t expect him to be this handsy with you as soon as he came home. But you weren’t complaining.

“You look tired, amor. I hate leaving you alone for so long,” He said, a tenderness in his voice. His hands ran over the thighs, feeling every inch like it was his first time touching you.

“It’s all part of duty though, right? I know you always come back.” You placed a soft kiss on his cheek, sealing your words.

“I missed you. Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to feel you.” He murmured, his lips grazed over the curve of your neck.

You could feel his hands hiking up under your shirt before removing it completely. His neediness, as well as his swift movements, added to your heightened libido.

“I missed you too Mig,”

You weren't wearing a bra so your breasts, that were swollen with milk, bounced with every movement you made.

“So full…” he kissed along your chest, deliberately avoiding the nipple while caressing your sides. He couldn’t get enough of you and being separated from you for this long only made him more desperate for your presence.

“Are you gonna start rambling about how a woman produces milk?” You arched your brow inquisitively when you noticed him inspecting your breasts. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his biology rants.

Miguel didn’t talk much unless he needed to, but when he did, you would cherish every word that uttered from his mouth.

“I am now…” he swiped his thumb over one of your nipples, making you hiss. You were more sensitive now so you were very responsive to his minimal touches.

“Your body has developed glands and structures inside of your breast which are full of milk ducts.” As he explained this to you, some of the milk seeped out from your nipples. You shuddered in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry…that happens sometimes. I should’ve pumped out the milk before…” You said apologetically. You tried to slip off his grasp but he had a tight hold on you.

“What a mess…” he commented before giving your breast a gentle squeeze, watching more of your milk leaking down his hands.

Heat reached your cheeks as you noticed the way he was staring at the milk in fascinating.

You hissed again from his grip he had on your breast. You knew you had been hyper lactating but it was hard to predict when the milk would leak out like this.

Miguel moved his hands from your breast and over to his mouth and lapped up the milk that spilled over his knuckles.

You felt a wetness pool your panties as you watched him taste your milk. There was something enticing watching your husband drinking your milk straight from your body.

He then leaned into your breast again and inhaled your scent deeply. “We can’t let this go to waste,”

You didn’t need to think too deeply about what he meant.

Before you could even begin to speak, he licked one of your nipples, cleaning off the mess before latching his mouth around it.

The sudden sensation made you arch your back further into his mouth. You gripped onto his broad arms as he continued to suckle on your breast.

You soaked in the way he was completely indulging in your milk, his cheeks hollowing in with each suck.

You could feel your milk seeping through your nipples and into his mouth as he took his fill greedily.

After a while he released your nipple, letting out a small sigh of satisfaction. His mouth was slightly parted and his eyes were half-lidded.

You were too stunned by what had just happened and the words lodged in your throat. Miguel took your silence as an opportunity to reach for your lips and kissed you passionately.

You could taste the sweetness of your own milk from his mouth as he swiped his tongue over your lips. He pulled away, leaving you dazed.

“Did you enjoy that?” You finally asked.

“I did, we should do that more often,” The corner of his lips curved up. “But tell me, what hormones are responsible for lactation, hm?”

Again, he was asking a question and expecting an answer from you when you were dizzy with bliss and could barely speak.

It was definitely on purpose because it amused him how much of a mess he made out of you.

You tried to process his question and articulate an answer, even though you knew it was only going to feed into his ego.

“Hm…prolactin…oxytocin…” you breathed.

A grin formed on his lips, both from the state you were in and the satisfied answer you gave.

“My sweet and clever wife,”

His praise made your stomach flutter.

He hands reached over to the waist to remove your pants along with your panties, leaving you bare on the bed. As you lied on your back, you could feel his dick pressing against your clit through the digital suit as he crept closer.

He tapped on his watch and his suit pixelated away, revealing his chiseled body and his throbbing cock. The precum that was seeping from the tip was too tempting. But you forced yourself to stay grounded before you lost control in your lust.

“Miguel, I’m not on anything,�� your voice was sharp with caution.

It had been too long since you both did anything intimate. Even during your pregnancy, you were focused primarily on your health and making sure your pregnancy went smoothly.

But as much as you yearned to feel Miguel inside you and the friction from his dick, you were smart enough to hold back.

You knew that you were more fertile after you gave birth, with an increased level of oestrogen, making you more susceptible to get pregnant again.

The last thing you wanted was an unexpected pregnancy when your hands were already full looking after your 5-month-old daughter.

Miguel kept his gaze at you. “You are breastfeeding,”

Your clit was throbbing, desperate for his touch. But you weren’t going to cave in.

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

Miguel lowered himself to reach for your thighs and dipped his head lower until he was facing between your legs. All you could focus on now was his exhales fanning on your soaked cunt.

“I guess we could find an alternative tonight…”

You couldn’t fully process his statement before you felt his tongue drag over your folds. The sudden contact made you clamp your legs around his head.

You reached over and ran your hands over his hair.

He knew that area was more delicate now after you gave birth. You could feel him trying to be gentle with you while eating you out.

It made your heart stutter.

But even if he was giving you a soft treatment, your senses were still firing and you could feel heat building up in your core.

“Miguel…” you moaned lowly.

He hummed against your core in response, sending a tantalising vibration through your spine.

He was trying not to flicker his tongue too deep into your cunt to avoid hurting you. Every juice that was leaking from you was quickly licked off by him.

Between your thighs, you could see him looking back up at you, watching your reaction while drinking up his fill of you and coaxing your orgasm.

It’s been a while since your pussy had any attention, causing you to be pent up with tension.

You came sooner than you anticipated, most likely from how sensitive you were. You arched your back with a long moan. Everything that squirted from your cunt was licked off from his tongue.

You were limp on the sheets, drenched in the afterglow. Your legs released their grip around Miguel's head as he pulled himself away from you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

There was a sudden sound of crying coming from the next room. Your daughter had woken up.

Miguel got himself off the bed. “I’ll get her, you stay.”

You nodded mutely, giving him the chance to bond with your daughter after two days of being without her.

He left the room but not before putting his sweat pants on. You, on the other hand, were left on the bed to catch your breath.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @ghost-lantern @ultravioletrayz @lazyjellyfish300 @xxsugarbonesxx @zg0nuwa @laysmt @club-danger-zone @farrowroyale @hwasoup @da-h0manb3an @animequeen4 @francesca-the-1st @montyrokz @s0fia4 @f1-hoff @alyeskathewave @princesatracionera @ssleepycenzi @coyfesh @chrishy973 @ginanet @ilovetaquitosmmmm @twistxdx @pxtched @flordelalunas @nommingonfood @fairywitch2000

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fangswbenefits · 10 months

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Family

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Miguel is a natural when it comes to being a father.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

No warnings! Pure fluff! Dad Miguel.

A flock of birds took flight from a nearby tree and the ruffling of the leaves was a clear indication that there was an intruder nearby.

Your moment of peace and quiet was short-lived, but you remained still, folding under your head as both you an Miguel soaked up the Summer sun.

"Pa~pá!" sang a small voice from inside the canopy.

"Ye~ah?" Miguel said, focused on his dimensional travel watch.

"Look at me~e!"

"I'm looking."

"You're not looking!"

You wrinkled your nose at him behind a faint smile, “Miguel O’Hara, I will smash that watch into a million pieces if you don’t focus on your daughter.”

He glanced up at you. “The multiverse—”

“—can wait,” you reassured him, nudging his arm with an elbow. “Jessica is more than capable of taking over for a couple of days.”

He nodded, but only half convinced, which was good enough, considering this was the first time Miguel was taking a few days off from the never-ending stressful work of keeping the canon intact.

It was pleasant enough to be able to go to earth-616B on a little family trip and enjoy the countryside with the guidance of Peter, MJ and little Mayday.

But Miguel was… well, Miguel. A natural worrier who disliked handing over his responsibilities to others.

“Hey, you have something on your face,” he suddenly said in a low voice.

“What is it?” you immediately brought both hands to tap along your skin, searching for anything unusual.

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, which sent your heart into overdrive.

“Nice one, O’Hara…”

He replied with a teasing smile that you were so used to loving.

“EEEEW!” your daughter’s voice tore through the empty field, effectively distressing the surrounding fauna.

You watched as Miguel turned off the bleeping device on his wrist and rose from the meadow to his full height, headed toward the tree.

“Alright, little spider, come down.”

You spotted child of five descending upside down from a branch by her web, two front teeth missing, face covered in smudges of dirt, but beaming brightly at the signt of her dad.

“Papá!”

He helped her reach the ground safely and ruffled her unruly hair. “You need to be careful.”

Even from a distance, your heightened senses allowed you to feel the adoration in his voice.

The girl was wiggling now with barely suppressed excitement. "Hey, papá?"

Well, if that wasn't the most mischievous tone of voice you’d ever heard. "Hmm?”

"Do that thing."

"What thing?"

"The thing!"

"What thing?" he asked again, feigning confusion.

"THAT thing!" she cheered. "Where you go bzzzz and vssssssh and then BAM!”

"Oh," said Miguel. “That thing."

"Yep!”

"Maybe not," he sighed, but when her uplifted face began to wobble, you knew he had little choice. "Well, don’t tell mommy.”

"Yeeeaah!"

He brought a finger to his lips that she promptly mimicked. “Shhhhhh,” she then giggled.

“I can hear you!” you shouted, sitting on the grass to offer your seal of approval that came in the form of a wide smile.

You trusted her with Miguel, because Miguel trusted her with no one else but you. He would never consciously endanger his child, so you grew to accept that some of their playtime might involve something a bit riskier — as long as no loss of limbs was on the table.

She looked so tiny next to his impressive height, but was definitely a miniature copy of her father.

“We carry them inside us for months only for them to come out looking exactly like their father,” Jessica had once said and you wholeheartedly agreed.

He was wearing casuals, but his suit quickly began to engulf his entire body, leaving him only unmasked. Your daughter was bobbing happily along beside him.

"Stay back," he warned her lightly before sendind two laser-like red strings to coil around a thick branch, and effortlessly bending it into an arch until the tip hit the ground.

"Yey!" she yelped in excitement, toddling off toward the branch.

"Alright. Now, be careful.”

She met this warning with as much enthusiasm as she had for being offered an unlimited supply of candy of her choice. It didn't take much to excite her and you couldn't help but smile and follow as she began climbing up the branch with steady steps.

As she reached the middle, her knees bent as a way to maintain balance. “Do it, do iiiit!”

Miguel chuckled and the twin strings loosened ever so slightly in order to have it wobble up and down, sending the young child into a spiral of pure bliss.

“Faster! Faster!”

“Steady yourself,” he advised instead and she did as she was told, lowering herself and extending both arms as if riding a wave.

To a young spider, this was the closest thing they could get to a bouncing castle, so you didn’t mind this at all.

And neither did Miguel, because he instructed for her to climb onto his shoulders and offered the sweetest and most genuine smile ever.

He let go of the tree branch slowly, and his suit retracted at once, the little girl sliding both arms down his face for support and planting a kiss on top of his head.

“Did you have fun?”

"Yes!" she immediately said with a screech.

"And you’re strong and brave?”

"Yes!"

"And you know I love you, don't you?” he said as he paced toward you with her bouncing on his shoulders. “And mamá too, right? We'll always love you."

She was, delightfully, still very much of fan of such cheesy displays of affection. "Yes," she chirped happily.

You rose to your feet, feeling warmth spread throughout your body at the wonderful sight in front of you.

Miguel, for all his stubbornness and grumpiness, was a marvelous father. It was second nature to him.

"Another kiss?”

She leaned over and planted a noisy kiss on Miguel’s temple and giggled when he did his best to wipe it off with the back of his hand.

You welcomed them with a tight embrace and the feeling of a soft caress along your face as your daughter gave you a toothless smile.

"Let’s head out to uncle Peter’s house for a bath,” you said, pecking the palm of her hand.

“Don’t need one!”

Miguel squeezed her tiny calfs lightly. “Young lady, you do as your mother says.”

“But—”

Another squeeze and she bared her teeth, two tiny fangs emerging.

“Miguel, she’s showing off her fangs,” you said, feigning terror.

“Fangs away!” he said with a smile, bouncing her up and down his shoulders, which had her explode into a laughter.

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o’hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara drabble

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ladyrijus · 11 months

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Skyward Sword Zelda is such a tragic figure in my opinion. Just put yourself in her shoes and imagine this.

It's the best day of your life. Your dearest friend, dork that he is, has finally become a knight. It's what every kid on Skyloft works towards and he finally did it. You're so proud of him. When you fly together, you muster up the courage to tell him you love him.

You never get the chance.

Instead you're whisked away into a world you believed was left behind, and saved by a woman who declares that she is your guardian, chosen by you. You have never met her before. You didn't even know there were people like you who lived down here, in the Surface.

"You must purify yourself if you are to transcend time and hold the seal," the mysterious woman with the painted tear remarks as she shepherds you through strange destinations unlike anything your books have ever taught you, "it was your will." No matter how many times she tells you this, in every iteration the language could allow, it doesn't make sense. Why would a goddess need to turn human? What could you do, that she could not?

Where does divinity and humanity diverge?

Connection.

A goddess is revered by her people who pray, in spite of her silence, for her benevolence and guidance. She is their unwavering stone, a higher power to rely on. But a girl? A girl is loved. She is someone tangible, a figure who people will see, and know, and care about, and fight for.

And that's when it clicks. Your friend isn't really your friend at all, but a hero, a pawn, who was intended to be used against an enemy of yours you no longer recognize.

You're using him. You've been using him all this time. It's sickening.

With each prayer, with each goddess damned spring you rush to, you are faced with your own marbled reflection, a testament to the fact your humanity is only a pretense, carefully timed to ensnare your friend into a hero's fate.

He doesn't seem to understand that though. He keeps running after you like the fool he is, hoping to save Zelda, his precious Zelda, that you no longer are. The smile you wear becomes harder to hold. You were Hylia first, and that is all you will ever be.

You play into the charade anyways. After all, Zelda was the reason why he went through his trials. To tell him now that she was gone would mean to destroy everything you had worked for. So you tell him everything he wants to hear: that you're your father's daughter, that you're his friend, that you're his Zelda.

And when you close your eyes, smiling from within the amber and ignoring the dull thuds of his fist against its surface, you wonder if you look anything like the statue you and your love had stood upon on the best day of your life.

"Maybe all of this is a dream," you wonder while drifting in between millennia. Time passes like the waterfalls in Skyloft, rapid, yet everlasting. Maybe you'd wake up in your bed in the Academy again. Your love would have been sleeping in (again) and everything would be how it used to be. You could be Zelda once more. And most importantly, Hylia would be nothing beyond a giant statue for you to ignore for the rest of your days.

... There's something to be said about how you fall again once you wake up.

"What kind of goddess am I," you think crudely, "to sever my own wings?"

But this time, your love is there to catch you. And he does. In that moment you pray, in your own name, he doesn't let you go.

#i was in my feels tonight what can i say #skyward sword #legend of zelda #zelink #egregious lack of groose and for that i apologize #loz #tloz #the legend of zelda #zelda #link #hylia #impa

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yandere-writer-momo · 6 days

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Yandere Fairytale Series:

Rapunzel

Part 1 Part 2

Yandere Witch x Rapunzel Reader x Yandere Prince

For many, long years you had resided in an isolated tower deep in the forest with an elderly woman named Agnes and her daughter Hilda. The three of you had lived here together and created a nice home for yourselves in a place no man could ever harm you… or at least that’s what Agnes instilled in you and Hilda since you were children. Men were evil and couldn’t be trusted. They would lure you in with sweet words and promises, but then they’d swallow you whole like a beast.

Since you were ten, Hilda and Agnes never let you lift a finger nor did they let you outside. “It’s dangerous for you. You’re far too delicate for the forest. Leave it to us, (your name).” Agnes would always tell you before she took Hilda with her to forage and hunt.

Despite your years with the two of them, Agnes told you that you were not biologically her child. “Hilda and I found you in the forest one day. You were just a baby and we couldn’t leave you… so you can stay here with us, forever. You’re ours, my dear.”

They’d brush your hair as it slowly began to grow longer than the length of the tower. Your long hair was used to come and go after Agnes and Hilda sealed off the door to ‘keep you safe.’

Every time you’d ask to go out or inquire about what they’d see, Agnes would shut you down. “Curiosity killed the cat, dear. You just wait here, we will be back.”

The mother and daughter often took trips for supplies. Whether it was berries or necessities, their trips only took a few hours… sometimes they took a few days. It just depended on what they needed. The pair never let the supplies dwindle much. Agnes hated being irresponsible when it came to stock.

It was when you were over the age of twenty that Agnes’s health took a turn. Hilda would often weep with you as she held you close. You and Hilda had grown so close… Hilda swore she wouldn’t let her mother down. That’d she’d carry on her will. (A will you didn’t have a clue about)

When Agnes passed away, Hilda immediately took charge over the chores around the tower. The beautiful young woman often fretted over you as she made sure the two of you were cared for. She took over brushing your long locks and gathering supplies.

Sometimes Hilda would braid her long black hair with hers. So ‘the two of you were connected.’ It was always fun whenever Hilda would let you play with her hair.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back! I can bring you back your favorite berries.” Hilda would gave you a reassuring smile before she headed out into the forest. You watched her form until she disappeared into the trees.

So you’d get back to painting the walls with a hum. Your hair draped behind you like a waterfall as you sat on your homemade swing.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a loud clank on the side of your tower. What on earth was that?!

You jumped off your swing and ran to look at the balcony. A grappling hook was slung around the metal frame as a hooded figure began to scale the tower. Who we that?!

You went to shut the balcony door but ended up slipping on your own hair. Your back hit the floor as you whined in pain. Your eyes wide in terror at the knight that now stood in front of you as he quickly winded up the rope. The knight mumbled some curses before he shoved the grappling hook in his bag.

“W-who are-“ the knight pushed you further into the tower as he put a gloved hand over your mouth. Your body trembled when you looked into their lilac eyes. You’d never seen such pretty eyes before…

There was shouting below and the sound of hooves. Was this knight being pursued? You couldn’t tell since the knight held you firmly in their arms until the voices disappeared into the distance.

The knight breathed a sigh of relief before they released her. You quickly shoved the knight away from you as you scooted your body as far away from them as you could. You swore your heart was about to leap from your chest.

“Who are you?” You shakily asked but the knight gave you a small bow. Their hands slipped off the silver helmet on their head to reveal a rather striking individual with sharp features and long, lavender hair.

“I apologize for my intrusion. I’m Prince Vinicio of the Corcoran kingdom.” The knight’s voice was a lot deeper than she expected. How could a woman have such a deep voice?

“Prince? Don’t you mean princess?” You softly asked which made the knight erupt into laughter.

“No. Despite my rather feminine appearance, I’m male.”Vinicio smiled warmly at you. “I just noticed how long your hair is. Have you been growing it out for a long time-“

You jumped when he reached a hand out to you which made him frown. Vinicio’s mind began to wander as he glanced around your home. Did you live here all alone? This wilderness was not becoming of a lady, especially not one as stunning as you. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“P-please leave. I’m not supposed to talk to men.”

Vinicio frowned but gave you a small bow out of respect. You must be being held against your will in this lonely tower… he’d have to gain your trust to save you.

“I apologize, I’ll take my leave.” Vinicio put his helmet back on but turned to give you one last look. “But can I meet you again tomorrow? I can talk to you from below the tower. I won’t climb up here again.”

You bit your lip. Agnes had always warned you and Hilda about men but Vinicio didn’t seem dangerous… “Okay. But only if you promise to not climb.”

Vinicio smiled warmly at you. “I promise.”

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ladythornofrivia · 2 months

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Lady with Teal Eyes || Aemond x Aunt!Hightower Reader (Part One)

word count: 2,733

author’s note: i’m sorry that i didn’t post much stories, as I’ve been reblogging and changing themes in my profile. i’m trying my best, but I’ll make up for it.

warnings: incest, cockwarming, teasing, sucking, p in v, rough play, flirting, wholesome moment, jealous aemond, possessive, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, second hand embarrassment, dark content, mentions of su*cide, Aemond being too touchy with his aunt, degradation, humiliation.

summary: Aemond meets his aunt for the first time, and there’s more than meets the eye. (there will be three parts).

There hasn’t been a day that you never left your homeland. All in prosperity. All in solitude, all in mindful thoughts that even the castle walls were unable to perceive. Oldtown is known for the oldest kingdom within Westeros.

We light the way, those are the words from House Hightower, a tall, silver tower with a green light of flames atop. Members of the Hightower court are known to be proud and resilience. Perhaps too greedy to your taste. Less fickle to their needs, their desires, their secrets, their ambition.

All minds think alike, as they said. But your mind is unalike from theirs.

There hasn’t been a single day where your life change—steady as it goes. But when your older sister, Alicent, sent a letter to you from a raven fled from miles, you instantly ripped the seal and unveiled her letters, written in neat cursive. In the days where you can recall that Alicent taught you to read and write, before accompanying your father, Otto Hightower, to aid the ailing king and his throne.

In King’s Landing, where Aegon has set and had trees felled after his conquest in Westeros. The stories of dragonlords and ladies has caught you into a slighted dot of peculiarity. But with your father, you knew that your father wanted more than being as the Hand of the King. Like any folk in Oldtown, he’s all in the same cloak of mind and heart as the rest. The only difference is he has resided in King’s Landing with the Targaryens, warming the throne with Alicent’s political stead.

With you, as Alicent’s half-sister, one thing you adored about her is her resilience, no matter how the power struggle may have been, Alicent held her head high, it inspired you to do the same cause, not for the greater good, but for you to steady your heart. With Alicent’s brown eyes, anyone would be easily swayed at her beauty. With your eyes like glowing water, the subjects were to assume that you’re either a sea creature in the ocean, or have been reincarnated as a woman. Common folks assumed that you’re a goddess sent by Maiden herself. But others theorized you’re born in the sacred pond within the forest.

Despite the nonsensical rumors, you carried out your duties dulled within life, but with your brother, Gwayne Hightower, entered in your chambers without a warning.

“Sister!”

“Good heavens, you gave me a fright,” you screeched, hand clutching over your chest.

“A word from the raven,” he resumed, pulling out the letter. “It’s from our dear sister.”

She hasn’t written you a letter for months. Understanding of her high authoritative position, thankfully enough you aren’t the queen. You couldn’t bear to think about gifting children into the world from your maidenhood.

“Alicent!” Departing from the chair, you snatched the letter from Gwayne’s hand and ripped the letter open, straightening the scrolled paper.

My dearest sister,

I regret to inform you that I cannot visit in the Oldtown due to personal circumstances that our father has been trifled with the matters in King’s Landing. As queen, I must fully prioritize my duties and smite the inconsiderate undutiful thought of others. My dear husband, King Viserys, has been unwell as of late, growing slower day by day, but still the same man who loves his histories and shed upon endless favoritism on his daughter and her plain-featured sons, as well his miniatures he rarely finished. As of this moment, we are preparing the feast for the upcoming celebration. Misery and dread and politics has been my company, and I’d be happy if you come to King’s Landing and stay here for more than a month. I also send Gwayne and his men to escort you back. I hope you still have the new dresses and jewels the seamstress sorted to your taste; I always know that you hated attire that itched your flesh or suffocating. Words cannot expressed about how I miss the sweetness of your smile and laughter. We shall meet soon.

Signed,

Alicent Hightower

Jumping with joy, your body lunged at Gwayne, locking him into a tight hug, slightly hopping in place with a big grin stretched onto your lips.

“Have my things ready, brother,” you said, hasting, forgetting about the silks and fabrics in your hands.

“But you need more time. You’ll stay in King’s Landing as our queenly sister instructed.”

“Send the maids, then. I can’t do this alone.”

“You mustn’t make haste!” Gwayne shouted as you ran off, never minding the silks on the ground only for him to pick up.

“The sooner the better,” you shouted back.

~~~

The trailed ship took no more than three days to reach King’s Landing. Alicent hasn’t mentioned anything particular to the celebration. But you have come to acknowledge that Alicent lessened the details.

By the time the ships rested at the shore, you rushed down to the clear path and greeted your father, who was rather cold and emotionless. Nevertheless, you gave the courtesy of shallow inclination of your neck bent down. Though your heart shattered at the motionless greeting; a chilled wind spiraled on your thickened sleeves.

“Father,” you said, grinning ear to ear.

“Queen Alicent awaits,” is all he said, then left without abiding on you.

“But—”

“Ser Gwayne, escort this lady in the Red Keep,” he wasn’t saying it with care.

This lady.

Months without communication and souvenirs, you’d ought it’ll soften your father’s resolve regarding onto the estrangement.

Another clash of heartbreak has struck again. But it comes as no surprise.

Both of you hadn’t spoke since of his second wife—your mother’s—passing.

As numb as it may be, the small pang in your heart resolved again as Gwayne Hightower escorted you to the high steeps close, reaching the royal grounds of Red Keep.

~~~

Infiltrating from climbing the steps until reaching the indoors, the green queen appeared.

Your sister.

“Alicent,” you rushed and clung her to embrace.

“Sister, how good of you to come,” Alicent replied.

The halls greeted you in cold and dreaded air clinging onto your sleeves, goosebumps flooded over your skin, the thick air of candles and torches has impaled your stomach. You didn’t like this feeling. These halls, darkened in heralds of statues and stars that your pupils recognizant.

Faith of the Seven.

Hightowers held their religion in the highest regard, while you, don’t cherish the ideologies of the religion, filled with fanaticism and hypocrisy. Even Targaryens have the queerest customs, of marrying brother to sister, relative to relative since Aegon I. It dire consequences of genetics and birth, and the fruition of a child birth into an unshakable world of politics and desires. According to the Citadel, in secret debate, those who are born of incest are nothing but sort of monsters lurking, a defect to a bloodline.

The Targaryens disagree—couldn’t care less, of course. As you often heard of keeping the bloodline pure.

Bloodline pure. People speculated that the Targaryens are closer to gods than men. Thus their words ‘Fire and Blood’ is in order. In Valyria, their source is magic and dragons, long before volcanic eruptions swept the lands and dragons into ashes. The last Targaryens resided in Westeros, and thus, their last kind is dwindling, hence creating pure bloodline. As theatrically hysterical as it is, you trudged along the halls.

“It has been so long since I saw you last,” Alicent began.

“It has, but we rarely sent letters as of late.”

“Being a queen is no simple task. Our father’s ambition has gotten stronger.”

“Your father,” you said bitterly.

“My dear sister,” Alicent resumed, her voice soothed. “Father is doing his best to stabilize the realm.”

“Cold, cruel and calculated,” you answered. “Your strength and dutiful as queen is one of the things I admire about you. But, sister, it feels as if my existence is no longer needed. I feel as if I’m useless. My mother received no love from your father.”

The doe-eyed look in Alicent’s eyes protruding. “Sister, I—“”

“Half-sisters,” you reminded. “Everyone thought I was some sort of creature that shouldn’t belong in the realm. I’m no fool; I could hear everyone whisper, even closed doors.”

“Creature or not, you’re still a Hightower. We share the same blood. Nothing will ever change between you and I.”

“But your father will never accept me,” you replied.

Alicent clasped her hands onto yours. “The next time we see each other, I’ll be visiting the Oldtown.”

“You said that the last time on our previous letters,” you chimed. “Let him stabilize the realm alone.”

“That is why you’re here. I needed time apart from the council and subjects,” Alicent reasoned. “Men are often ambitious with their politics and trifling over gold than their wives.”

“It appears so,” you agreed, huffing.

Ironically, Alicent served men, and still is. First Jahaerys, then Otto, then Viserys. Though you wouldn’t so recklessly give your personal opinion away to Alicent.

“We have yet to explore the grounds. We must rest at the gardens. I know how much you love staying in the gardens.”

Your cheeky smile was showing. “I do.”

Alicent squeezed your hand. “Let us be off. It’s considered bad luck if we let our food grow cold.”

“Never knew that it involves bad luck.”

“I’ve been told.”

“By who?”

Not once, Alicent answered.

~~~

“Make yourself comfortable,” Alicent said, indicating the spare chair, and watched you sat with ease, eyeing the lavish outdoors where the Weirwood stood as main view.

“Quite nice out,” you complimented.

This was Alicent meant when she said gardens.

“I chose this spot for a reason,” Alicent said as the servants settled the meal over the table—bowed and left. And the last servant entered, placing a stacked candied almonds and candied plums on a gold platter, alongside of Dornish wine.

Alicent watched your eyes lit up.

“I took the liberty of having the kitchen staff ready for your sweet-tooth,” she clarified.

“You know me well, sister.” You grinned.

“My lady,” a soothing masculine voice said behind you.

“Ser Criston,” Alicent addressed, glancing. “I’m occupied as of this moment.”

“There has been urgent matters regarding to your son.”

Puzzled, Alicent spoke with, “Which son?”

Appalled, your eyes darted at her. On the other hand, you never retain information from Alicent.

“Aegon,” Criston answered, eyes turning away. “I’m afraid his excursions have rather been…” Then his dark brown eyes flicked to yours, his mouth opened, choosing his words carefully.

“We’ll speak no more of it,” Alicent pleaded. “I’m under the liberty of entertaining my sister at the moment. Do ignore Aegon’s excursions for now.”

Somewhere in between the lines, you knew Alicent’s calm demeanor struck hard when the excursions take place, wrath kept within, as you read between Alicent’s lines furrowed on her forehead. Ser Criston glimpsed at you and bowed before withdrawing from the outdoors.

“My apologies,” Alicent said to you in a dreaded voice. “The excursions in the daylight hour upon King’s Landing hasn’t ended.”

“I never knew you had a son,” you said, munching on the candied almonds.

Alicent swallowed the contents of the food. “I mentioned it once before in the letter. That I was having a babe in my belly.”

You pondered for a moment. It was back when Alicent married Viserys and carried a child in her.

“But you never mentioned that it’s a son,” you commented.

“But I’m sure you heard Aegon’s name the moment he arrived into the world.”

Your teeth clenched. “I can assure you I did.” The Oldtown spoke of Aegon in high regards, but as you grew older, you never hear much of Aegon’s doings, hoping to meet your nephew, you waited, but as usual, you sister never once sent letters to offer you an invite.

“Things have been hectic for the past years, and I doubt that’ll cease. With the Iron Throne empty and with all that it stands, we’re keeping the place intact with politics and debate,” Alicent reasoned.

You stayed in silence.

“If you would like,” Alicent continued, “I would be happy to take you to the gallery. The Red Keep has been nothing but a dread. I shall escort you and give you a tour to the Red Keep unless you want someone else to—”

“No, I’d be thrilled if you were to accompany me,” you paused, then said, “sister.”

Alicent gently beamed at that.

~~~

When you and Alicent both went inside the Red Keep, the royal subjects and guards bowed before the green queen as their eyes lingered onto yours, and an incoherent of whispers were passed to your ears.

The sister of the green queen.

And as you ascended the staircases, from there, you saw the shaded eyes of violet and curled hair—a young girl, a few years younger than you.

“Mother, have you seen my—” The girl’s youthful stare darted to yours, backing away gradually.

“This is my sister, (y/n), your aunt,” Alicent introduced. “This is Princess Helaena, my daughter,” Alicent said to you.

“A pleasure.” As you made an inclination to your neck, smiling to the princess as you hadn’t realized that the others accompanied none other by two young men behind Helaena, both with Targaryen features.

Your heart stopped—leapt with warmth—when you first glanced at the tall prince with gold, lithe hair as his other eye covered with eyepatch.

“These are my other sons…” Alicent said, searching for the third son with a slight frown on her features. “Where is Aegon?”

“Drunk as usual,” Daeron rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

“That blasted fool…” Alicent hissed, then smiled merrily in a way to appease herself. “I hope you and Lady (y/n) would get along.”

“Yes, I remember now! You’re that boy—that cupbearer in the council!” you said to Daeron.

Daeron beamed. “I am proud to serve my mother’s family in Oldtown. Ashamed we never met circumstances in the Reach, yet here we are!” he chuckled. “For my dear father’s name day contained in private ceremony, I’m glad you came.”

You sensed the sarcasm in the word “father”, but shrugged it off.

The dread of unwanted unwelcome washed away with glee. “Indeed. I shall look forward to the festivities.”

Aemond lifted and placed his kiss upon the back of your hand. A kiss placed with gentle fire ignited your dulled soul, envision with flames of blush blaring your dewy cheeks. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

Breath caught in your throat, eyeing on his hand still lingering his intertwine fingers to your skin. “Likewise, my prince…”

For the first time in your life, the gentleness of a dragon has captured your heart and soul.

As for Aemond, with the slighted news of your presence, there’s nothing more than mere maiden who needs to be soiled with his perversions trapped and coiled and enflamed in between his legs. When he first laid his gaze on you, he pictured your flushed skin wrapped with his own, his lips captured yours as his presence trapped into your mind for eternity. But alas, with a wandering thought just now, it wasn’t like him. He mustn’t be capricious and avarice on the spot.

With your grand arrival, Aemond had already decided you’ll become his.

One day at the time, he reminded himself.

“It’s unusual for you to be courteous to someone,” Alicent commented.

“I never wish to scare anyone with my presence, mother,” Aemond said. “It is my duty as a prince to make our special guest comfortable.”

A hot tingle between your legs stirred as you eyed on him—on his lips—how rolled off words with his tongue, finding yourself imagining at the thought of your nephew tasting your folds as you ride him, warming the bed—riding him whilst lace and corset of your precious dress torn apart by his own rugged and young hands.

“He’s only being courteous like Prince Daeron,” you noted, clearing your throat. “Everyone must fulfill their role to the realm. We mustn’t decay our customs to rudeness.”

Aemond’s eye gleamed at your flushing features whilst you looked at Alicent in the eye, you speak with assurance yet your body wavered, dying for your hungered coil in you—the scorch caged within your dress to be set free.

You cannot fool me, my princess, he thought.

In the end, nobody can fool a dragon like him.

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calisources · 2 months

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𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences were taken from different sources about romance, marriage and specially arranged marriage and what that entails. Mentions of affairs, mistresses, wedding ceremonies and medieval talks of what marriage entails follow. Change names, pronouns and locations however you see fit.

Marriage is a marriage, whether it is arranged or not. Both necessitate the same level of dedication.

It’s not an option to be best friends with your life partner; it’s a requirement for a firm foundation in a long-term relationship.

Arranged marriage is not always a bed of roses, but it is possible to achieve with love and faith.

It’s different for women, isn’t it? They have no choice where they go. They grow up in a prison and then get married into one.

Is there anything more courageous/stupid than saying yes to spend your life with someone you have no idea about?

The country was as much of a mystery to me as the man I had married.

One day you’ll be in love with me.

You could be a titled lady.

I have avoided the fate my father had planned for me. Surely it is I who has won, not he.

I do not care about power and wealth, father. I want to marry for love.

But if you were matched, what do you think she'd be like?

We're supposed to be unable to keep our hands off of each other.

In this case the time is not so important for me, the person asking for commitment is.

We are trapped by convention and must marry another.

Every good child knows: duty before your heart's desire.

I am to be a bride, but whose?

I married you to stop the bloodshed, and you keep killing. When will it be enough- when?

I found out soon after we met that Leah’s father had promised her in marriage to some young Pole.

If I ever get into an arranged marriage, I want it to be like theirs.

Arranged marriages require effort; constantly and every day. And where there is love, you want to make these efforts.

A successful arranged marriage can help climb the biggest mountain and build the biggest empire.

An arranged marriage is like wine; it tastes good with time.

You will marry him and do your duty to your House.

You are my daughter and you will do as I say. End of discussion.

Love? What does love have to do with marriage?

He'll honour his duty to family and swallow it.

I was three when my parents promised me. When a deal was struck.

So I was raised to be his wife. I was taught my favorite color was gold because his favorite color was gold. I was told my favorite foods were his favorite foods

I never thought what it would actually be like to have him... be gone.

I was raised for him, and now I am... new. I am brand-new. And I do not even know how to breathe air he does not exhale.

A bride at her second marriage does not wear a veil. She wants to see what she is getting.

Marriage is a financial contract; I have enough contracts already.

The dowry, not the wife, is the object of attraction.

Arranged marriages work like this. The girl is hardly asked and is expected to follow whatever her parents deem fit.

Marry, that marry is the very theme I came to talk of.

Maybe she'll be beautiful. Maybe she'll be rich. As long as she brings swords and men.

Perhaps love is a minor madness.

It doesn't matter who the seed is. The important thing is that it has a place in your womb.

Her maidenhood will seal an alliance and must be kept safe.

Every married woman knows a man can have mistresses and we must look the other way.

All I ask is, that you do not cast me aside. Have mistresses and lovers as you please, but confide in me as I am to be your wife.

A husband’s first and foremost job in a marriage is to protect and love his wife.

Touching without looking had been incredibly arousing.

In my opinion, most marriages are based either on money or the fear of being alone.

I want you in every way there is to want. I want you in any way you choose to share.

I'm free to do with my wife as I fucking please.

The marriage of convenience lasts until you become an inconvenience.

Ours is a marriage of convenience and nothing more.

From now on, you're sleeping in our room. There's no chance in hell I'm letting you sleep far away from me again.

You agreed to this marriage and didn’t even dare to ask my opinion on the matter.

You're going to bend, and so am I. We're going to compromise, negotiate, and distract each other.

Being together means our priorities are going to change.

Men marry because they are tired; women, because they are curious: both are disappointed.

I don't think I am likely to marry, Harry. I am much too in love.

It is certainly romantic to be in love, but there's nothing romantic about a definite proposal.

They are royals, whoever they marry is not their choice but who is better for the crown.

That is a match made in a boardroom.

Once you are wed to another, you will forget me.

I will marry a man who desires me but I have no interest in.

I will not be a secret kept in shadows. Once you are wed, I will leave.

How can I marry them, when I am in love with another? It is not fair to them, that I think of you when I’m with them.

Ever since I met you, no one else has been worth thinking about.

Behave yourself, out here, we are wed and what you do, reflects on me.

You are being sold like a mare and do not care.

Once I bore him a son, he shall be happy, I know it.

We hate one another but for peace, we must wed. At least, let us enjoy this part of the contract.

I am doing this for my family and for the terms you offer.

A marriage is simply an alliance.

All will be well, love can be found in a marriage. If not love, at least, good company.

Do your duty and give him sons. That’s all men want.

I will not be paraded around in a bedding ceremony. I will wed them and bed them, but I will not be humiliated.

You think this title gives me power, but you forget, I am a woman.

I am lucky enough to have options. None who please me but at least, I can choose one.

Come to bed now, husband. It is our wedding night, after all.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #arranged marriage

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eleganttiredcroissant · 11 months

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How Logan Roy fucking up his children in different ways showed in their respective eulogies:

Roman: breaks down immediately because he's always been verbally abused by Logan and as a result he's incapable of communicating effectively (and have meaningful relationships with basically anybody).

Kendall: the exact opposite of Roman. He's a perfect public speaker because he's always been brought forth by his father on a higher pedestal than his siblings ("you're my number one boy") and here he's showing all the sociopathy he inherited from his father because everything he can say about him in his eulogy (his "other side of things") is how much of a great financial genius he was, how he built his empire from nothing. What also seals the deal is his delivery of "He was a brute. [...] I hope I have it too".

Shiv: victim and perpetrator of a familial misogyny that permeates the Roys. (When she says "Logan couldn't fit a whole woman in his head" the camera is stuck on Kendall who is beginning to show the same treatment on his ex wife and daughter.) Nonetheless Shiv still waited all her life for those crumbs of fatherly love and "warmth" she would sparingly get.

Bonus: Connor doesn't speak publicly at all because he never really existed in his father's mind as a worthy offspring

#succession #roman roy #kendall roy #shiv roy #connor roy #logan roy #succession spoilers

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lessi-lover · 4 months

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golden girl II m.earps ~

so this started off as an 1000 word blurb, - but here we are 2433 words later... enjoy ;)

01 ★ ~ m.earps

"you look gorgeous, baby." you tried your best to convince mary. "i don't think i should go," she choked out, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. "no my love, nobody deserves this award as much as you do." you gently kissed away her threatening tears. delicately taking her larger hands into your own, you guided her to the large mirror in your room.

"what if I'm not enough?" she asked, her voice almost breaking.

"most talented woman i know, my golden girl." you praised, whilst lightly kissing each of her fingers. you saw her hesitate for a moment as if she was fighting a battle in her mind to believe your sincere words before she took a deep breath and turned around. now facing you, mary grinned from ear to ear. looking down into your eyes with so much love, that you felt your knees almost buckle.

"you're right, darling." she responded, after a while. "and even if i don't win this award... i know I've won the two most amazing girls in the world." she referred to your baby girl, - sage, and your heart panged with adoration, eyes now tearful at her words.

"speaking of the little one, her babysitters should be arriving, right about -." the doorbell began ringing incessantly, a rapid amount of chimes that seemed to echo the cheekiness of your to good friends, - ella and alessia.

leaving mary, you went to answer the door whilst she woke your little girl from her afternoon slumber. you couldn't help but smile, as you opened the door only to be greeted by the sight of the two girls, decked in animal onesies, with fun, promising smiles plastered on both their faces.

as they entered your home, they immediately barrelled into you with a big hug. both their arms wrapped tightly around you, almost lifting you off your feet. "careful with the wife ladies, she just had a baby," a familiar voice spoke behind you. as the girls' arms gently let go, your waist was then again enveloped by another set of arms, this time belonging to mary.

in your wife's arms, lay a half-asleep sage, her eyes sparkled when she caught sight of her two favourite people, (well apart from you and Mary of course). "auntie el! auntie less!" your daughter called out, her voice now a mix of sleepiness and excitement.

alessia and ella's faces lit up at the sound of sage's voice. "our little star!" ella said in a whisper, sneaking up to playfully tickle sage's stomach, whilst alessia reached out and gently tussled her messy hair. the sleepy child let out a string of giggles, as she tried to push away ella's hands.

you watched mary with a fond smile. her love for sage was a fierce and passionate just as much as her love for the pitch.

"are you ready for a fun night with auntie el and auntie less?!" alessia exclaimed, sporting a cheeky grin. sage responded by extending her arms out to both the girls, clearly eager to engage in any fun they had planned for her. "i'm sure she is," you said, pecking your little girl on the nose and lightly pinching her rosy cheeks, eliciting yet another loud giggle from sage.

ella gently put her back on the floor, beaming with excitement, but slightly nervous about her babysitting duties. alessia and ella were the first people ever to look after sage, apart from both your mums.

"remember bed by eight, and no sugar after dinner." mary instructed the younger girls, her tone firm but warm. she then knelt down to sage's level, tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear. "and you be good for alessia and ella, young lady." sage nodded in response, stretching out her pinky to seal the deal. mary chuckled, linking her finger with the girl, before squeezing her sides and kissing her head.

'call us if you need anything, right girls?" mary spoke, glancing at the girls, who were clearly already distracted by sage's intense description of her latest preschool adventure. "yes, mary. now go lovebirds!" alessia said, before once again ensuring Mary they would have everything under control.

mary now satisfied enough, turned to you. "lets not keep the night waiting, shall we?" interlocking your hands together, she pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. "good luck!" both girls said in unison, holding up your little girl as they waved goodbye from the front door.

as the evening unfolded, alessia, ella and sage now embarked on an adventurous journey. your once neat living room was now transformed into what could only be described as a pillow fortress. cushions and blankets had been gathered from all corners of the house, each piece carefully picked by sage, for it's essential role in the castle.

alessia and ella fully immersed themselves in the childish game, embracing their roles as the castle's valiant protectors. sage's imagination took over, and none other than her teddy bear was the 'villain' of the story, a mischievous bear named sir. fluffy, which sage had warned her babysitters that he was determined to steal their precious castle treasure.

as the game progressed, sir. fluffy, (operated by sage herself) made several attempts to swipe the precious treasure, only to be 'captured' successfully by alessia, who declared dramatically, "no villainous creature shall defy the guardians of this castle!" sage's laughter flowed loudly through the house, the three girls giggling hysterically on the couch.

when the game reached its end, sage decided that sir, fluffy had in fact learned his lesson, and could be forgiven. the bear was then 'knighted' by queen sage and became an honorary protector of the castle, much to alessia and ella's amusement. the girls then lay down on the couch, breathless to say the least, the two babysitters exhausted from their impromptu adventure.

"how about some dinner, queen sage?" asked ella, her face concerned at how she had lost the time during the game. sage nodded enthusiastically, her small brain having long forgotten the game, now only interested in what dinner might include.

opening the fridge, alessia caught sight of a small container, with the label, "for sage <3" written neatly on top. grabbing the food, she emptied it into a bowl, before tucking it into the microwave.

meanwhile, ella kept you entertained with a short game of "guess who: lionesses edition". as ella desperately tried to guess her teammates, sage found it quite easy to give clues about her aunties, her mothers having brought her to camp a fair amount of times.

"dinner's ready!" alessia yelled from the kitchen, offering sage a bowl of spaghetti pasta. sage immediately dug into her food, her babysitters having to tell her to slow down or she would get a tummy ache.

once sage was finished, alessia took her bowl to the kitchen, cleaning it in the sink, before grabbing some snacks for a movie ella and she had planned. ella picked sage up, throwing her up in her arms before crashing them both onto the couch. sage shrieked, arms wrapping tightly around her neck, as they both giggled excitedly.

"so what are we thinking? beauty and the beast, moana, the little mermaid, rapunzel?" alessia asked, flicking through different options on the tv. not missing a single beat, sage excitedly screamed out, "the little mermaid!" she raised her short arms eagerly above her head.

popcorn, jelly snakes, chocolate freckles, and cookies were spread out in bowls on the table, sage's small hands sneaking snacks every so often, although both girls were aware of her little 'hidden stash'. as the movie played, alessia, sage, and ella sang happily to the lyrics of each number, neither one of the babysitters missing the glint in the little girl's eyes whenever sebastian, the crab came on screen.

halfway through the movie, sage snuggled her small body between the two older girls, grabbing at their hoodies in her tiny grasp. her eyes began to flutter shut, sleep taking over her tired body. alessia took notice of this, checking to see her best friend still enamored with the children's movie playing on the screen.

"el." she whispered, trying to gain the girl's attention without waking her up. "what's wrong?" the brunette asked, tearing her eyes away from the bright screen. "look at the poor girl, she's fallen asleep on you," alessia responded, her thumb coming to rub up and down your small frame. grinning the girls took a photo, before sending it to mary.

mary sat anxiously in her seat, her palms sweaty and knee bouncing up and down erratically. next to her, you sat calmly, moving your hand to sweetly lay on her thigh, gently pausing her nervous movement. she smiled appreciatively, moving her larger hands to rest on top of yours, letting you know you were helping more than you could know.

as the event started to commence, you interlaced your fingers with hers. The tension in the air was intense, collective anticipation steamed from every corner of the room.

around you, sat some of the best athletes to walk the Earth. however, you felt in your heart that a special someone deserved this award, although that special someone would never believe you, no matter how hard you tried.

as greetings were dished out, you could feel your wife's tension slowly subsiding, instead replaced by self-appreciation for how far she had come. the small glance you shared with mary were filled with gratitude and love, a silent conversation that spoke volumes about the journey you had been through together. the journey that didn't stop tonight, whether she was to win the award or not.

mary's focus was entirely on you. the award, which had been at the forefront of her mind all night, gradually faded into the background, her eyes solely on you. her hands relaxed, her smile became more genuine, and the tenseness in her face became less strained.

then, unexpectedly, amid a shared smile, the moment arrived. the presenter's voice cut through the noise of the room, announcing the winner of the BBC Sports Personality of the Year Award.

time seemed to pause as mary's name echoed through the hall.

for a split second, there was a look of disbelief on mary's face, a flicker of surprise that didn't mirror your own. her gaze met yours, a sea of emotions dancing in her eyes – shock, relief, and hint of overwhelming realization. as applause erupted around you, you gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze, a silent message of pride and love.

"my golden girl." you said proudly, a look of true pride in your eyes.

mary rose to her feet, her movement still carrying a hint of disbelief. But as she stepped towards the stage, there was a growing confidence in her stride, a recognition of her outstanding achievements throughout the year and the heartfelt journey that had brought her to this moment.

your heart swelled with pride, watching her accept her well-deserved award and your eyes brimmed with happy tears for how far the girl had come. this was her moment, a shining display of recognition for something she so richly deserved.

lifting up the trophy, mary and you made eye contact, the blonde blowing you a kiss that you knew you would get teased by relentlessly for later.

after a memorable night at the award ceremony, you and mary quietly headed home eager to see your little girl again. the evening had been a success, but now, you couldn't wait to see Sage's reaction to mary's trophy and hear the next day about her time with alessia and ella.

as you gently pushed open the front door, you expected to see the two younger girls chatting on the sofa. instead, you were greeted with a heartwarming sight.

there, on the couch in a tangle of limbs and soft blankets, lay alessia, ella, and, to your surprise, sage, fast asleep. the living room was dimly lit by the fairy lights that they had obviously set up, casting a gentle, soothing glow on their faces.

you shared a look of mild amusement and slight exasperation with your wife. sage was clearly meant to be in bed, and by the looks of the empty sweet wrappers on the coffee table, the 'no sweets after dinner' rule had been enthusiastically ignored. yet, seeing them all there, so peaceful and content, it was hard to stay angry when they looked so peaceful.

with a silent chuckle, mary whispered, "so much for rules, huh?" Her voice was soft, filled with warmth, mixed with a slight irritation for the mischievous younger girls, but it was okay, - she'd get them back in training anyway.

carefully, so as not to wake your little girl, you both quietly approached the couch. mary gently scooped up sage, cradling her in her arms. you quietly picked up the stray sweet wrappers and straightened up the room a bit, all the while watching mary carry sage to her bedroom.

in sage's room, mary gently tucked the little girl into bed, arranging her pillows and pulling the covers up to her chin. you both took your turns kissing her forehead, before silently turning off the lights. you both stood there for a moment, watching her sleep, her chest rising and falling rhythmically in the quiet of the room.

you both couldn't believe how lucky you were to call sage your own.

as you both retreated from sage's room, you made your way back to the living room. before gently laying a warm blanket over the two older girls, chuckling at the identical drool dripping from both their mouths. you both sat next to alessia and ella on the couch, sighing at their poor babysitting skills. you did your best to cover your laughs at the mess they had made of your house in only a few hours.

"seems, like we have three children now." mary joked, although you knew she referred to the two girls as her 'unwanted children', the both of them constantly begging for advice from the older woman, they really did love you both.

making your way to your own bedroom, you settled into bed with a comfortable silence taking over the room. you snuggled your body close to the blonde, her hand subconsciously combing through your hair. "I love you," mary's voice broke the silence. "thank you for everything you do for me. i couldn't have won without you." she admitted, lips pressing softly against your temple.

"i love you too, mary." you tucked your head into the crook of her neck.

"my golden girl."

#mary earps x reader #mary earps #woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso community

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 8 months

Text

MISS ME ?

Pairing - Jackson Rippner x fem!reader

Summary - Jackson was assigned with assassinating you, but how could he kill such a sweet thing like yourself?

Warnings - 18+, noncon, dubcon, stockholm syndrome, smut.

Word count - 1.3k

Your apparent premature death was a tragedy to the world. A sudden shock to hear a promising young woman to have been deemed dead by a shipwreck with a handful of casualties. It was predicted that you would live a fulfilling life, by being the daughter of an established politician. You were goal driven, focused on your studies and wanted to help change the world for the better. That was all gone now, but you were never even on the fucking boat.

When Jackson Rippner was assigned with assassinating you for revenge against your father, the first thing he wondered was who would want to kill a sweet thing like yourself? The more he studied you, the more he desired you. It was only reasonable to have a taste of you before he killed you. It’d be like throwing away a freshly baked cake.

But he became infatuated by you when you fought, swore, cried and begged underneath him. The way you were able to make him come so fucking hard, not to mention the way he was able to make you come so fucking hard, sealed a new fate for you.

Jackson was never one to renegotiate, but he made an exception for you. For free of charge on Jackson’s sole behalf, and an unwritten waiver that if you were to ever be found alive, the client and Jackson’s company had no involvement, you could live. He thought he was doing you a favour, you were not dead because of him. But you weren’t exactly living either.

Your prison was a modern cabin in upstate New York. Jackson chose this home many years ago because he liked being secluded, he didn’t trust people and valued his privacy. It never really crossed his mind that he would share his humble home with anyone in the near future.

“Sweetheart?” Jackson called out, shutting the garage door behind him and dropping his suitcase.

He pouted his lips as he looked around the main living area for you. He climbed up the flight of stairs and headed straight for the bedroom, a smirk on his lips. You weren’t on the bed, but in the corner of the room all curled up.

“Oh baby” Jackson sighed as he slid off his jacket. You looked up to him with tear stained eyes. “Come here” he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Hesitantly, you got up and gradually went to him. You straddled his lap, because he would have it no other way and he caressed your flustered cheeks.

You couldn’t help but to be relieved when he did come home. Isolation can drive people insane. He liked not talking to you when he was gone, just to make you go that little bit more crazy that what if he never came back. He thought it would make you acknowledge him more, he was right.

“Oh, how I missed you baby. Sorry I was gone for so long, business just got a bit out of hand. I was able to manage though” he explained as he petted your hair, admiring how you were wearing his shirt like always.

“I-I missed you too” you stuttered out. Jackson smiled and you could feel his cock harden underneath you. You were hesitant to ask, “you’re not leaving again, are you?”

“No baby, I’ll be staying for a while. I deserve a break” he answered softly, his lips brushing over your ear.

You didn’t reply, but instead laid your head onto his shoulder. Jackson couldn’t help to have a smug look on his face by thinking of the progress your relationship has made. At first, you despised his touch. He had to take a bit of time off work just to break you down, train you. Christ, he didn’t expect you to have so much dignity and fight in you. Not that he thought that was a bad thing.

There was only one occasion where you almost managed to escape. You managed to slip out of your restraints and successfully unlocked the door just for the alarm to go off. You bolted for your life, but Jackson was quick to catch up. Typically, you tripped and rolled your ankle. Jackson made sure to drag you back to the house by your injured ankle. Where he tied you up tightly to the bed, stuck a vibrator in you and left you for over an hour. Afterwards, he fucked you and your overstimulated cunt a couple of times just to really remind you not to ever pull another stunt like that again.

When Jackson did have the trust in you to be left alone, he wasn't hesitant to threaten you by killing your whole family if you tried to hurt yourself whilst he was gone. Yeah, it was nice to think about how far you guys had come.

“Baby, show me how much you missed me” Jackson murmured as the sensation of you pressed against him.

You sluggishly lifted your head and leant in to kiss him. Jackson’s arms snaked around your back and he fell back onto the bed. Your hips humped his slowly and controlled. You were rolled over onto your back as Jackson began to unbutton his shirt.

“Tell me, did you miss me? Or my cock?” Jackson teased as he pulled off his shirt and threw it aside.

“Both” you sighed, gradually unbuttoning your own shirt.

“Oh, lucky us” he grinned as he pulled out his hard cock.

Jackson pulled off your shorts and panties with ease and aligned his cock to your entrance. He didn’t even have to consider spitting into his hand, he knew you were already dripping. With a stern push, he was inside of you. A harsh moan left your lips in the process.

“That’s a good girl” Jackson grunted as he went on to find his pacing, “taking my cock so well. God how I fucking missed you” he kissed your jaw.

You hated him. Every single thing about him, you despised. Mostly, you hated how you depended on him. Jackson Rippner was all that you had now, so you couldn’t even hate him anymore. Every breath you took was for him. Your life was his for the taking.

“Fuck” Jackson purred by your ear. “I can feel how much you missed me” he mumbled, your walls clenched against him in a rhythm.

Your legs wrapped around his snatched waist as he started pounding into you. Jackson was deeply groaning with his forehead pressed against yours, your hands pinned above your head by his. You started crying out when he hit your sensitive spot. So he kissed you to make you feel better.

“Can you finally see how I saved you?” Jackson smugly asked, his hands now on your hips. There will definitely be a bruise in the morning.

“Yes” you exhaled, your arms wrapped around his back, nails dug into his bare skin.

“Do you love me?” Jackson asked, slightly unsure if he even wanted to hear your answer.

“Yes” you breathed, he grabbed your chin to make you look at him. “I love you Jackson” you admitted, knowing it’s what he wanted to hear.

Jackson didn’t say it back, but it was clear he did, in his own little fucked up way. His smile was soft and hopeful. Unexpectedly, he came inside of you, a broken moan leaving his lips.

“Fuck, I’m sorry baby. I just missed you so much” he apologised, slowly pumping himself inside of you, you moaned softly.

Aiming for your sweet spot, Jackson started pumping rapidly against you. You bit your lip as you quickly came undone around him, your walls pulsing against his sticky member. Laying defeated in the bed, Jackson pulled himself out and smiled at your mixed fluids on himself.

Jackson fell onto the bed next to you and pulled you into his arms. “You’ll never understand how happy I am to have decided not to kill you” he murmured by your ear as you laid in an unfazed state.

You looked up to him, “so am I”.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #jackson rippner #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #red eye 2005 #cillian murphy smut

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lilibethwrites · 2 years

Text

Head that Wears the Crown

Aemond Targaryen x F!Targaryen!Reader

There is only one woman in the whole of Westeros who can get inside Aemond’s Targaryen’s head. On the night of Aegon II’s coronation, Aemond’s beloved wife, Y/N Targaryen is not happy with who wears the crown, and she seduces her husband into making a move that might change the order of succession in a mere turn of the moon.

Warnings: smut, incest

A.N: Reader is Rhaenyra and Daemon’s daughter and married to Aemond. This is somewhat darker than what I usually write, but it’s also something I’ve been meaning to write while I’m still working on the requests I’ve received.

Word count: 1958

You were at the Dragonpit earlier, standing tall and proud with your husband by your side as Aegon was crowned as the true King. Within you, however, the fire of a dozen dragons burnt bright and tall. The same fire also burned inside your husband as he grunted and scoffed, your hand in his was squeezed to the point of discomfort—pain, even, as he tried to restrain himself.

It should have been you. It should have been Aemond. The legacy of Aegon the Conqueror was insulted when his crown was placed upon the head of the disgraceful, reproachable man you had the displeasure of calling your brother-in-law.

And Helaena? Old Gods and new had to band together to save your family from doom if she were to rule alongside her brother.

What you devised required a clear head on your part and Aemond’s both to blossom. You allowed him to take a flight on Vhagar to clear his head, and spar with Ser Criston afterwards until his arms and knees threatened to give out.

Then you knew where to find him as if you’d placed him there by your own hand. In the new, spacious bedchamber in addition to yours, gifted to you as Aegon and Helaena vacated it. You suspected it was a consolation gift from Alicent. A mere room for the Seven Kingdoms.

The room was spacious. The floor was tiled with veiny marbles imported from Dorne between smooth stones and the walls were covered in rich tapestries; and it was dark, illuminated by what seemed like a dozen candles and the fire from the fireplace alone. In the middle was a tub partially obscured by a silk curtain left ajar, and within it was Aemond with his arms hanging out on each side, his slender fingers drumming on the side of the cold tub with a servant carefully scrubbing his broad shoulders.

Your entrance did not go unnoticed, and you relieved the servant of the frightful duty. She had heard the tales from other girls who’s heard them from others: Aemond was cruel and short-tempered. He’s beaten and maimed people on a whim. On an evening like this in particular, it was easy as a pie to get on his nerves.

“Leave us,” you ordered, and she set down the rag and scurried away eagerly. Aemond’s face was turned away from his Princess wife, you, and towards the fireplace that extended all the way up to the high ceiling. It gave his face a soft tinge of warmth, he almost looked less intimidating.

“My love.”

Only a hum.

You took a fluffed-up pillow from the bed and kneeled on it beside the tub, to which Aemond finally turned his head. You only hoped it was washed thoroughly. Even through heavy stockings, you were revolted to kneel on only Gods knew what touched before. Knowing Aegon, it was nothing decent.

“What a day we’ve had,” you whispered, dipping the rag in water.

“Hm.”

You began with his arm, scrubbing gently and slowly before moving up to his shoulder, following the muscular curve of it in circles.

“Talk to me, husband,” you whispered again, much closer to his ear this time, and sealed your seduction with a kiss to his neck.

From the way his chest rose and fell, you knew he was giving in to you.

“Aegon is…” he sighed. Aemond shared your dislike for Aegon but his sense of duty and his commitment to his family tied his tongue. You, however, were also his family, and you were determined.

“A drunkard and a charlatan, yes. Not at all the knight and the scholar you are. The heirloom of Aegon belonged to you and you alone, my love.”

You dipped the rag into the water once again, this time rubbing his chest. He caught your heavy-lidded eyes and licked his lips like a man starved before a feast.

“Aegon is the king, now. This is treason,” Aemond spoke through gritted teeth. The words of his older brother’s coronation were heavy on his pride and difficult to speak.

“So be it. Then we shall hang together.”

You trailed down from his chest to his abdomen. His muscles under your rag tightened. He could foresee your next move as with shaky breaths that bordered on sweet mewls and moans, you let go of the rag and pressed your palm on his skin.

“Hand in hand in death as we are in life, my love,” your fingers travelled down a patch of light hair that led to his manhood.

He was growing hard already and twitched in your palm when you gave his cock a light squeeze and a pump. Aemond’s hips shifted as he slid down the tub, his legs spread wider to accommodate your conduct.

His breath was heavier also, shaking with each up-and-down slide of your hand around his shaft and with kisses pressed to the corners of his lips.

“Aegon cannot hurt you, love. No one can while I am around,” he grunted. His head was thrown back in pleasure though his eye was trained on your face still.

“Mmm, husband. What would I do without you?” You purred in his ear, scratching with your words the spot that pleased him the most.

Aemond wasn’t a man to be manipulated, but you were a woman not to be underestimated. Your hold over him was stronger than most knew. Perhaps even Aemond himself didn’t always know just how much of his decisions were placed in his head by his dear wife.

“It was not right,” his lips loosened up between grunts as you picked up the pace with your strokes. “He—he should not have—” he stuttered between gasps and huffs.

“We can make it right. My dear husband, we can make it right,” You could tell he was close. A hand on the curved corner of the tub clutched the marble so tight that veins on top of his hand and around his forearm popped up. He hissed through gritted teeth with each stroke you gave him from the hilt to the tip.

He was burning up, too. When you pressed quick but wet kisses all over his neck and jaw, your lips felt as if you’ve kissed hot coals.

“How?”

You knew the signs all too well. You knew when to press on, and much to your husband’s dismay, you knew when to pull back. With a disappointed groan from Aemond’s throat, you pulled your hand out of the water and began slowly to loosen up the bodice of your dress.

He watched you with a heavy-lidded eye and a heavier heave of his chest. The heavy silk of your gown slid down from your shoulders and bared your naked breasts to your husband. He cupped one, massaging and squeezing, desperate to feel more of you.

Aemond’s wet hand raised goosebumps on your skin. There was the familiar, sweet building up of heat and ache between your legs, as well. You needed him just as he needed you. Though before you allowed yourself to indulge, the matter at hand needed Aemond to be resolved on a particular solution—and who better than you, his darling wife, to make it happen?

You cupped his cheek and brushed your lips against his before sliding your tongue between his parted lips. It was more of a promise of things that might come, so you pulled back when his hand tangled in your hair to deepen the kiss.

“There is a way, my love.”

You had Aemond just the way you wanted then: panting and gasping, trembling, silently begging to be touched, to be inside you. Your thumb caressed his lips, and he watched you expectantly.

“Though some might say it shall visit a curse upon us—”

“You are asking me to… to—”

“Not quite. Not a slit throat, or a sword through the heart. But… you do fly together occasionally. Above the clouds, above even where the Gods cannot reach you. If a dreadful accident were to happen…”

“It would be—”

“It would be the only way to ensure there would be no protests to your coronation,” your hand wrapped around his neck gently, your thumb stroking the vein that ran from the side of his sensitive flesh. You could feel the flow of his hot blood when you pressed your finger down on it.

Aemond leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. If it wasn’t an immediate no, it was a yes. A reluctant one, maybe even an afraid one—and could you blame him considering the weight of what you just asked of him?— but it was a yes.

Your hand dipped into the water and down between his legs again, and you started stroking his already-stimulated cock, this time to bring him to his peak.

“Leave Helaena to me. I know you are fond of her,” Though the idea that Aemond was keen on her made it all the more alluring to do away with her in a more permanent manner, you had to tread carefully and make your calculations precisely. Your plan was as delicate as it was dangerous. If you turned greedy, it could collapse.

“I shall ensure she disappears without damage. This, I promise to you, my love. But Aegon,” you squeezed him, and he reached down to grab your wrist, making your hand resume its movement.

“Aegon must…”

“I will do it,” he finally agreed to your plan. The hesitation in his voice was palpable, but you knew your husband to be a man of his word. He would do it if he promised he would.

So you kissed him one more time as he guided your hand around his cock, only a few more strokes away from release. You didn’t resist when he bit your lip and swirled his tongue around yours.

“I shall be the kinslayer to put a crown on your head, my dear, wicked wife,” he murmured against your lips. It took one to know one. And that was all you needed to hear, so you worked his cock just the way that he liked—the way that drew out ragged moans from his trembling lips.

He came panting, chasing his pleasure with erratic and desperate jolts and rolls of his hips. You let him, and he fucked your hand until the last drop of his load.

Aemond’s head was thrown back, his eye shut tight with tremors still going through his hips and groin. He only looked at you when he heard the rustling of your skirt on the stone and marble floor. He watched you—exhausted and having barely caught his breath— as you stepped out of your dress and joined him in the tub. Bubbled bath water splashed on the floor as you straddled him.

“My king,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and his breath hitched in his throat. If he wasn’t convinced of the plan before, hearing the words from your mouth certainly sealed the deal for him.

“My cruel, cruel queen.”

“Only to our enemies, my love. Only to those who would do nought but menace to us.”

“Oh, whatever would I do without you?” Aemond teased, mockery laced with playfulness. You could let him entertain any notion he liked as long as you got your wishes.

He was growing hard under you again with each roll of your hips. As his head bowed down to take your nipple in his mouth, you guided him inside you.

A shared moan escaped your lips as he filled you to the brim and your walls fluttered around him.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” he pleaded.

You had no such plans. Not for the night, nor for the future.

Aemond Tag (let me know if you’d like to be added to it):

@cherishedauthor @schniiipsel @verycollectivecreator @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @aemcndtargaryen @m1ndbrand @iorveth-scoiatael @let-love-bleeds-red @imakeangelscry @midnightindiewolf @queereddie @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @nighttwingg @mllemarianne @lomllino @tinykryptonitewerewolf @mirandastuckinthe80s @loverandqueenofdragons @fultimefangirl @lenasvoid @leilani788 @theekinslayer @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @m00n5t0n3 @paprikaquinn @dearbaji

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd #house of the dragon

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kaguraaaa · 1 month

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I was bored and just wrote this down. So.. It's not that good.

Bewitched

Lucifer x Witch!Reader

PART 1, PART 2

In the hushed elegance of the hotel's lobby, Lucifer encountered a guest whose presence whispered of untold tales and hidden depths, sparking a curiosity that ignited the very air around them.

As Lucifer hurried through the halls of his daughters' newly renovated hotel, a sense of pride swelled within him. The gleaming corridors and vibrant atmosphere were a testament to their hard work. Yet, amidst his contentment, fate had other plans as he collided with someone in the hallway.

Stumbling slightly, Lucifer managed to maintain his balance, clutching onto his hat as he looked up to meet the gaze of a strikingly beautiful woman. With golden eyes that seemed to hold untold depths and raven hair cascading around her shoulders, she exuded an air of elegance that captivated Lucifer's attention.

"Oh, my apologies. I was in a bit of a rush," Lucifer apologized, feeling slightly flustered by the unexpected encounter.

However, instead of reproach, the woman responded with a gentle bow, her hand resting over her heart in a gesture of respect. Lucifer couldn't help but be taken aback by her gracefulness.

"You didn't have to bow, my dear. It was I who wasn't watching where I was going," Lucifer replied, attempting to regain his composure.

With a soft smile, the woman gestured towards her mouth, drawing Lucifer's attention to the stitched seam that sealed her lips shut. Concern flickered in Lucifer's eyes as he realized the extent of her condition.

"Why is your mouth sewn shut?" Lucifer inquired, his voice tinged with sympathy.

The woman's eyes held a mixture of sadness and resignation as she gestured to indicate that she had died with her lips stitched. Lucifer's heart sank at the thought of the suffering she must have endured.

"Do you understand sign language?" she asked, her gestures careful and deliberate.

Regrettably, Lucifer shook his head, feeling a pang of guilt for his inability to communicate with her more effectively.

Their conversation continued through gestures, and Lucifer learned that the woman had died in 1420 at the tender age of 25. The realization hit him like a wave, filling him with a profound sense of sadness for the centuries she had spent in silence.

Despite her plight, the woman maintained a serene demeanor, urging Lucifer not to pity her. Her resilience left him in awe, admiring her strength in the face of adversity.

As their interaction drew to a close, the woman's teasing smile reminded Lucifer of his initial haste.

"You were in a hurry, weren't you?" she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Lucifer glanced at his watch, realizing that he had indeed lost track of time. With a sheepish grin, he acknowledged his tardiness.

"Yes, it seems I was. But before I go, may I ask your name?" Lucifer inquired, curious to know more about the enigmatic woman before him.

In response, the woman gestured for a notebook, which Lucifer quickly produced from his pocket. With elegant strokes of the pen, she wrote her name before handing it back to him.

"Y/N Hecate," Lucifer read aloud, feeling a shiver run down his spine at the mention of the infamous witch's name from centuries past. Looking up to the woman, she was nowhere to be found. Like she had disappeared in thin air.

As he made his way to his room, Lucifer couldn't shake the feeling of intrigue that lingered in the air. The encounter with Y/N Hecate had left an indelible mark on him, igniting a curiosity that burned brighter than ever before.

Welp.. Idk anymore

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #Witch #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar

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doki-doki-imagines · 1 month

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hi! maybe a little self indulgent but was wondering if you could write a lil drabble of earthrealm gang x yn (fem y/n if possible) but she’s related to shang tsung in some way (idk sister, daughter if u wanna get real silly) and shes just as pretty but just as mean :3c ty!

author note: In some the reader is the sister in others the daughter. Going for hcs for my mental health :)

Do you like what I write? Consider tipping on my ko-fi!

Johnny Cage: -He doesn't completely trust you, even if damn, you are hot. -Like he can't resist flirting with you even if it means getting the harshest rejection ever. -At this point, it is a challenge more than anything else. Once one of your failed potions exploded right into his face while he was blabbering one of his cheesy pickup lines. "You are smoking." "Hot?" "No, just smoking." You reply, pinching a strand of hair still on fire, extinguishing it. -You know 99% of boys stop flirting just before getting a date? Johnny's positive mindset won't let him fall for this trap. -Maybe you'll fall for his loserboy behavior…

Kenshi Takahashi: -Mh the ex-yakuza doesn't trust you one bit. Even if you never betrayed them. -It's just that you like lying a bit too much for his liking. -"I'll keep an eye on you." You chuckle "What eye? I don't see any on your face." You shrug his words off. -Nobody has ever been blacklisted this fast in Kenshi's mind. -But for real, he'll keep your every step checked ready to attack at any of your missteps. -"If you like spying on me so much you could take me out on a date so I can answer all your questions." You hear him choking on his saliva before snapping back. "How do you know I'm spying on you?" Your eyes widened getting closer to him "So I was right? You are spying on me? Damn, you must be so down bad for me-" -The idea of falling one of Wu Shi mountains sounds so good now for Kenshi. "Come pick me up at 9 p.m. and take me to a nice place it has been so long since I've eaten something nice." -Seems like Kenshi has a new problem to deal with. -Also because Madame Bo is the only place nearby…

Kung Lao: -He doesn't trust you at all, your mother may have been a nice woman but your father is terrible! And with your sharp words, Lao thinks you have taken his personality too. -"Begone sorcerer! My hat will slice you in two if you take another step closer." "I'm sure my words have done more damage than that stupid hat." -Actually, a friendship will develop thanks to your constant fights, not always won by you. -Raiden better if you stay alert, you have two sly foxes in the temple now

Raiden: -He isn't as wary as the others, after all you haven't done anything wrong. Being born from such an evil guy doesn't make you evil. -But damn, you can be so harsh with him at times. More than once Raiden wanted to remind you that if it wasn't for him you would be homeless and a loser just like your father. -But then Raiden remembers it's actually thanks to Liu Kang if you are there and bites his tongue. -You are also one of the few people able to make Raiden snap! Most monks never saw such fury before he met you. -"You should thank me. Weak minds don't last much in battle." "If you expect me to thank you for pissing me off you'll have to wait your entire lifetime, snotty sorcerer."

Liu Kang: -When he created this new timeline he hoped a sister could tone down Shang Tsung's evil intentions. -But at the end he threw you away, treating you like a stepping stone to the road to achieve his goal. -So Liu Kang took you in. That doesn't mean you will so easily forgive him for his mistake. -Your words slice his heart frequently. Not because you want to cry about your condition, it's mostly your fault after all, but simply because you like to tease that raw nerve that awakens a usually hidden side of him. -"Shut your mouth or I'll seal your lips forever!" "Ohhh-" you coo at his words "But then how I'll latch my lips at your throat? You seemed to like it yesterday." You say, pressing a finger on the spot where the hickey should be, already recovered thanks to his godly nature. -Liu Kang stomps his right foot on the ground before running out from your lab. How he can love you so much and despise you at the same time is something he still has to wrap his head around.

Geras: -A saint. You may tease, joke, just be nasty and Geras will reply with the calmest voice ever. -Liu Kang told him to make you feel at home and Geras takes his job seriously. -You nagged him a lot about the hourglass, making you take a small peak at it but he never let you close. -"You are too serious Geras, loosen up a little." "It's to compensate for your lack of rules." -You still have to warm up to each other…

Bi-Han: -He doesn't like you. AT ALL. -Bi-Han looks at you with a face dripping with scorn. Even if you are taller than him, he'll make you feel like an ant. -If you tease him too much he'll snap back and won't keep himself from hitting you. -But if you stroke his ego, promising him strength and glory… -As your brother told you "If you want men to do what you want stroke their ego and they will be at your feet." -He also did an analogy comparing the ego to a di- Okay I think the point is clear.

Kuai Liang: -He doesn't trust you, but if Liu Kang decided to keep you with them he won't oppose his decision. -Liang will often ask to train with you, mostly to test your skill level and eventually prepare for a future betrayal. -Also your lab will be often spied, checking if your experiments are safe and good for Earthrealm. -Till one day Liang found a small card on your desk "Train better your men, I could tell someone sneaked in the first time. Shirai Ryu won't last long otherwise." -He tightens the grip on the card, rolling it up before throwing it on the ground. -Liang was the only one that has been spying on you…

Tomas Vrbada: -He doesn't trust you immediately but he is one of the few to give you a chance. -Tomas won't be like a dog, following you around and completely trusting you, but he'll be one to bring you a hot beverage in cold winters when you are alone in your lab. -He answers wittily to your words and rarely he gets dejected. -"I suppose you won't survive in the Lin Kueis if you had a weak mind or if you are simply an idiot…" You whisper out, Tomas' ears catching your words anyway. "…You thought I was an idiot?" -You'd like to reply "Why the paste tense? I still do." but you decide to bite your tongue. You don't mind his company after all.

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simp-ly-writes · 1 month

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Friend of the Captain (pt.2)

Pairing: Edward "Eddie" Horniman x afab!Reader

Summary: Years had past since you had last seen Eddie. Doctor, CEO and soon to be girlfriend of another man. You end up seeing him at Freddy and Tammy's wedding yet other forces keep pulling your both away from admitting to your feelings. What will it take for one of you to see the truth?- as Charlotte ever so indelicately puts it.

Warnings: 3755 words, utter jealousy, language, and light teasing, angst to potential fluff and lots and lots of pining.

A/N: I have watched an unhealthy amount of edits while on dinner break- I must be stopped (gods i'm supposed to be on break!)- this is way longer than I was expecting it to be, perhaps even a part three...

Masterlist | Taglist | somewhat un-edited.

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

↳ Years had past since you had last seen Edward. You still kept in contact with his siblings and his mother, of course. Lady Sabrina refused to let you go- often sending various treats and letters towards your family's estate, you called her ever other week with updates to your studies, travels, and love life. Your mother teasingly voiced her jealousy towards her best friend choosing her own daughter over her best friend.

↳ You often joined the older ladies out for a dinner or lunch with Charlotte tagging along when she was not in school (yet you would never tell Charlotte's parents otherwise to you signing her out as a trusted guardian and taking her even out of the country some weekends). Clicking your glasses together while looking down upon the busy London streets, you smirked seeing someone wearing a piece of yours from across the street.

Tugging at your mothers dress-sleeve she trued around in her seat, grasping your hand in a tight squeeze of excitement and pride as her wrist glittered in your newest bracelet collection. After finishing your PHD of Business Administration you took a fake name to hide your identity for the public and papers for as long as you could. You often blushed now- seeing your face on gossip articles with your date of the evening.

Dinner tonight was a celebration of your recent contract with an up-and-coming movie star- he would be wearing your necklaces on the red carpet by the end of the week. A bottle of bubbly, bubbled your laughter to the surface as they all screamed in your ear, jumping up and down and clapping their hands in the restaurant as you ducked your head, trying to stray away from the attention.

↳ Unknowing to you though is that your's and Edward's mother collected all the gossip magazines, continuing their bet as Sabrinas heart fell every time you looked so in love with your new partner. Charlotte would often make side comments about your "slut era" she called it as you knocked her shoulder with your own, rolling your eyes before your mother swatted your shoulder at the dinner table and insisted on maintaining appearances in the public eye.

↳ When inside your studio-office space, drafting up new designs with your creative team. You spun around of your chair and became shocked when you eventually rolled back around to find a wax-sealed envelope with the Halstead crest so beautifully stamped. Peeling away the wax as carefully as you could, the thick, textured paper settled nicely between our hands as you read through the invitation. Tears beginning to well in your eyes before you were squealing in Freddy's ear through the desk-phone as he winced and handed the phone over to Tammy. Both laughing over your childish excitement to their own wedding.

↳ You called the brainstorming off early, rushing to help Tammy find just the right dress later that afternoon as she thanked you for assisting with the wedding planing (already fed up with Lady Sabrina's input into the event- though she was funding a large portion of it due to Freddys... interesting resume).

↳ Wedding dress shopping happened later that spring as you teared up seeing the woman in white. Helping her into your exclusively design accessories and veil. Later that day, you third-wheeled the couple during cake testing- eating double of your weight in sweets as your teeth ached afterwards.

↳ During the bridal party. You all got dressed up in small red dresses and matching heels as you style one another's hair and got your nails done for the evening. You all went to a bar to start of the week strong, you had never felt so carefree and young after the countless sleepless nights of being a CEO and Doctorate student- you really let yourself go that night. Waking up in the bed of a stranger who wrapped their muscled arm over your waist.

Trying to wiggle your way out of their grip and find your various articles of clothing spread round the downtown flat, you ended up stealing one of their shirts- not bothering to look at the design plastered on the front as you placed your phone on to charge and started breakfast.

The oven dinged, the eggs were done as you put out a spread across the countertop before doing a light clean of last nights activities- doing your best to put away things where you thought they belonged and were stopped halfway by an arm pulling you back into their chest and placing a kiss against your forehead, "thank you, love. Didn't have to do any of this at all- I appreciate it very much."

A blush spread over your cheeks as you led them towards the still hots plates and ate together. There name was William from your foggy memories of last night. By the groaning the man in front of you was excepting while pouring himself a coffee, he seemed as well wasted as you were.

"Can I get you any Advil or orange juice?" William asks, placing a coffee in front of you with a smile as you wipe your mouth and take a small sip. "No, I'm alright." When washing up the dishes together, he offered to place your things in the wash while making small talk throughout and even going for a round three later that morning.

Becoming lost in the bubble you both formed for yourselves, hands casting through the short strands of dirty blonde hair that tickled your palms. Your heart dropped in the slightest bit when his phone rang as a show you were both listening to in the background was paused. He whispered a sorry towards you, patting your knee before taking a stand and walking over to the bedroom, you could only hear the start to the conversation, "Captain, everythin' alright?"

Deeming yourself overstaying your welcome, you walked towards the hall bathroom, preparing yourself for the next day and left a small note with your name attached, softly shutting the door behind you before leaning your forehead against it. A stupid smile showing itself across your features as your hands drifted through your contacts, landing on Charlottes picture as it dinged for a few moments.

"Girl, where the fuck have you been since last night?"

"I think I'm in love Char," you stated while the elevator doors closed behind you and the busy city streets awaited you.

↳ In the remaining days of the bridal party, you all rented out a vineyard, playing various lawn games with sunbathing by the pool. You subconsciously looked up towards the glass doors of the modern home- unknowing of what you were expecting before returning to your book, humming along to the radio as Tammy splashed you with her dive. Drawing a quick 10 score on your phones notes app and presenting it to her, Charlotte snorted and did a dive of her own as you all laughed and enjoyed the warm weather.

↳ Your did frown later that night when William had yet to text you, throwing your phone onto the bed. You really have to get yourself together, you thought to yourself- waiting here on some guy... some guy that treated me fairly. And in this day and age, it was a rare sight to find. Charlotte had already given you a major thumbs up as did the rest of your university friends and some of the past boyfriends you still kept in contact with. They all approved.

↳ Looking into your suitcase, you picked up Williams freshly washed shirt- you had forgotten to return it as your head drifted towards your phone. A perfect excuse to see him once more, your fingers drifted over the keys, breath paused on the send button before tapping the green arrow in a split second. Your adrenaline soared as you ruffled your hair, huffing out and looking at the shirt once more.

Your fingers drifted over the warn edges, pausing at the left breast pocket before your eyes went wide in shock. Displayed was the same coat of arms as Eddies regiment, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. Was all you could think, hands now gripping at your roots as that text now burred your phone and your mind. It was the night before the wedding at by the looks of it, you were going to be up with your thoughts.

↳ The day of the wedding at arrived, you smoothed out your dress as you waited in front of the large wooden doors to the Halstead estate. The wedding was being held in the gardens- now in full bloom as the first week of summer sprang into season. The blush pink complimented your rosy cheeks as you sweated lightly in the blissful heat, everyone had already been partnered up and as the maid of honour- you were more than worried that Freddy's best man had yet to appear

Much to your shock, Edward slowed his steps, feet tripping over the blood red rug beneath your feet as he stumbled to a straight stand by your side. He dropped his gaze down towards your shoes, taking a long drag up of your form before casting you a charming smile. The voices around you soon became muffled as your gaze fell onto his broad shoulders, the scar against his chin and you wondered if the scar you left from throwing a rock at his head while children's was still behind his ear in the same place you remembered it to be.

He wore a navy suit, crisp white shirt underneath as his tie held small pink flowers- perfectly matching your dress. He picked up your hand, maintaining eye contact as he pressed a light kiss to your gloved hand. You were ever-so thankful for purchasing the matching gloves in this moment, holding that the material hid your light shakes from his reassuring hold. His hand soon slipped up your arm. Breath hitching as strings began to play in the background.

His fingers drifted to the skin left uncovered by your tall gloves and dresses arm before looping his arm with your own. The doors soon opened as you both faced forward, smiles plastered on brightly as you walked in perfect rhythm down the isle. You looked towards one another, a few gasps being hear distantly in the crowd yet you couldn't bring your eyes to see where the sound came from. Arms dropping as you continued separately to your respective sides.

Looking up towards the clear blue skies, letting out a breath, your gaze turned to find Freddy looking at you, soft smile on his face as he gave you a singular nod before turning to his wife who began her walk down the isle. You took her bouquet, tears streaming down your eyes as you silently sobbed in happiness for the couple.

You clapped when they kissed, cheered as Freddy dipped her as Lady Sabrina tossed a comment on their outrageous display yet you haded her the bouquet as she shut her mouth abruptly, turning quickly behind to stare at your mother who was already watching as you and Eddie walked down the isle, arm and arm. Your gaze solely focused on the couple, unknowing to the man on your arm who stared at you the whole time- enamoured by your happiness as another stood in the back isle's, rose in hand they stole from the gardens as they waited for the festivities to start.

↳ As the first dance had finished and the cake had been cut, the DJ started to turn on the selected playlist and you headed straight to the bar in order to hug the newly weds who had a mission of getting absolutely wasted by the end of the night. After chatting with them for a few moments, a cough from behind you has your eyes going wide as does everyone else in the general area who stops to watch

You pause, drink slipping through your fingers as they catch it just in time with a smirk. "Hello, love," William speaks in hushed tones, knowing of the curious glances around you. Your eyes fly across the white warm-event weather uniform he wears. The sharp colour of his blue pants matching his eyes as your mouth soon falls agape. He takes a hand, lightly underneath your chin as he closes your mouth, pressing a kiss to the side of your lips.

Your eye's drift over to his shoulder, looking at his rank as you return a kiss to his cheek in greeting, now taking the barstool behind you as he leans against the bar top, taking his hat off and setting it between you. "Why hello there, Lieutenant," you say before taking a sip of your drink to gain some liquid courage as the eyes around you both begin to turn back to their personal conversations.

"You know my rank?" he questions with a raised brow as you shrug your shoulders. "Have close friends in the military as well, memorized all that chest candy," you state, eyes now darting across the metals he displays. Williams chuckles, ordering himself a drink as the bartender nods in confirmation as you both ease into conversation with one another.

↳ Eddie currently talks with his family as Freddy perks his interest. "Did you see that guy she's been talking to at the bar?- dude is seriously laying it on thick." Freddy rolls his eyes as you throw your head back in laughter, hand pressed against the white uniform as the man looks down to your touch with another teeth-filled smile. Charlotte shrugs, stealing a sip of Eddies drink as their mother quickly steals the wine glass from her and returns it to Eddies open hand who tries to peer over Freddys shoulder as he continues on and on about the bachelor party he had.

Eddies eyes go wide, seeing the white uniform, seeing you pressed up against another mans chest as he spins you lightly, eyeing you up and down and how your dress twirls at your feet as you get both of your glass topped off once more. His gaze hardens as he catches Williams face, his arm drifting around your waist, mouth pressed to your ear as he kisses your skin teasingly- eyes darting towards the door as you look up at him through your lashes.

Eddie's hands turn into fists, his eyebrows furrowed as he starts to take a step forward yet Freddy still mindlessly talks as nobody is now listening as Charlotte begins to fill their mother in as she looks towards her son with concern. Hand ghosting on his arm that he has yet to take notice of. He watches as you bite your lip, pulling at his collar as you trace the seams of his uniform. Eddie lets out a sharp breath of air as he seems your lipstick begin to stain his skin, his mothers hand now tight against his arm as he stares down at it.

Charlotte shakes her hand, Sabrina now walking away to talk to your mother sat in the corner conversing with Tammy's parents. Freddy had finally taken notice of the lack of attention, returning to his wife's side as they stole bites from the cake before the official cutting. When Eddie turns back to see where you went, the bar is empty the door swinging closed as he speedily walks towards the hall only to find it empty both ways. As he begins to walk, a cough has him turning around to find Charlotte taking off her heels as she leans against the wall next to a suit of armour.

"Thought that you two were not together, no feelings right?" she presses, gaze determined as she slips off the last of her heels and begins to walk towards her brother who's shoulders only rise in their tensed form. He shakes himself off as she stands directly in front of him, shaking off his suit as he adjusts his suit-cuffs. "No, still is the case- just worried for my childhood friend is all."

"Alright, then..." Charlotte takes notice as his eyes keep darting back down the hall behind her, hope and hatred bleeding through his eyes as she smirk's, going in for the jab. "...If thats all you care about, he's a good man- that not right Captain?- They fucked a few times..." Charlotte presses her heels into her brothers chest as he keeps them there. His sister signals him to follow her outside as they begin to stroll towards the gardens all those Christmas's ago.

"She even told me she's in love with him-"

"What?" Edward asks in a breathy tone, his heart dropping as his sister continues walking further into the gardens and towards the centre fountain. "I warned you before Edwina, she's too good to have to wait so others take action. You had your time with her it seems, now it is time for someone else to take your place." She ends with a bittersweet smile. "You know... I always hoped she would become my actual sister- mom too but a best friend is better than nothing at all, right?"

The sharpness of her words twists itself deep in Edwards heart as he staggers, shoes dropped to the gravel beneath his feet, hands clenching at his tie that now seems too tight, his breathing laboured as he starts to see blood flashing on his hand and across his face. He hears your laughter filling his ears, the smell of your conditioner flooding his nose as it drifts off with the evening air.

↳ When Eddie returns to his work on boarder patrol, checking various people and their cars through the checkpoint. He enters the change-room at the end of every night, giving a nod and handing off his gun towards another officer who would be taking over the night patrol that evening.

↳ He often see's William changing as he enters, his shift ending 30 minutes before his own. He looks at the mans back, the angry red ail marks clawing their way up to his shoulders as the muscles his his back flex when a shirt covers up majority of the markings yet this shirt is old and warn. Having lost a great deal of his green colour, now a muted muddy colour as the neck hands low.

↳ Edward see's the the hickeys you undoubtedly left across his collarbones and neck, he recognizes that bite from the occasional moment you both shared as teenagers. William nods towards his superior officer outside of working hours. Picking up his jacket before moving to the sleeping quarters. Eddie sits on the centre bench, elbows against his knees, hands in his head as he grips and tugs at his hair. Frustration eating him alive as he imagines your touch, your lips against his own, the taste of your skin-

↳ Every day the same, every vacation time taken at a similar point as he notices a year afterwards the diamond ring hanging off Williams dog tags. He constant has been looking at it underneath his uniform throughout shifts, smiling before his mask returns as another car pulls forward. Eddies brain was struggling to come to cope with the images of that small ring hanging off Williams neck. He cursed himself alive as Freddy punched him square across the face when he drunkly ranted towards his brother a weekend he spent back home

↳ When he returned back to base, the ring he had around his dog tags was gone. William nodded towards the Captain as usual, that little display now irking him- pouring more fire into the gaping wound he sustained as the lieutenant paused. Face turning over his shoulder as eh spoke out into the empty change room, "I have been requested by management to switch towards the front lines... It has been a pleasure working with you sir. I wish you the best."

"Thank you, William. Do take care of her," Eddie states, looking at him square in the eyes. "Till the day she loves me no longer and afterwards," William promises before gently closing the door behind himself. Eddie does now feel himself crying before he calls his mother, not saying a word as he cries, she cries, as he can feel his fathers disappointment, his sisters distaste, and Eddies side remarks.

↳ But why stop at that? Eddie was soon being called back for your engagement photo, he glared at the ring on your finger. It's small for a jeweller, he thinks to himself yet had already bought the ticket, a gift and written a card voicing his congratulations to you both.

↳ Edward was beyond confused to walk into the empty venue space a few months later. Handmade stars hug above his head, a tray of champagne by his feet as the lights were dimmed, the afternoon sun finding its way through the blinds casting patterns onto the hardwood floors beneath. In his steps, the floors creaked as your tearstained face meet his eyes. He walked faster, taking a kneel beside you as you flung yourself into his chest as he dropped the gift, kicking it aside and held you tightly to himself. Hands beginning to drift through your hair as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

He felt your tears staining his sweater, the rapid spikes of your shoulders as you sharply breathed between sobs. "H-He, He cheated on me! I fuckin' love another man and he cheats on me!" you wail, shaking your head into his neck as he rubs your back. Eddie holds himself from question the slight hope at, love another man.

"I am sorry to hear that darling, you are the most underserving person of such treatment I know. Downright motherfucker," Eddie whispers into your hair before you fall backwards, tugging Eddie by his shoulders to join you laying on the floors. You both stare up into the various stars coating the ceiling as you squeeze your hand in his own larger one.

A few moments pass as you listen to each other breathe in the empty room. Rain slowly begins to fall against the window panes as you turn your head to already find Eddie look at you with a soft smile. "Thank you, Eddie, for staying here with me... you're the best friend I could ever ask for," you speak out softly, hand resting on his cheek as he turns his head to kiss your palm.

"Always."

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly

#eddie halstead x reader #x reader #eddie x reader #the gentlemen #the gentlemen x reader #netflix #the gentlemen netflix #fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #simp-ly-writes #eddie horniman #eddie horniman x reader #edward horniman #edward horniman x reader #the gentlemen 2024 #theo james #theo james x reader

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aemysbabyofficial · 2 months

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Sweet Sixteen II; Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!OC

To be a father is to live and sacrifice. What would Daemon live to sacrifice? To leave behind and never return to--to never regret with second thoughts. The answer: his last daughter.

Warnings: cannon divergence; paternal anger; father angry towards daughter; hints of paternal violence; hints of violence; choking; heavy angst; manipulation; hints of sex; highly emotional.

Notes: Apologies for the long wait, life hit me like a truck. If you liked this or wished it to be edited up or down, please tell me! This is a heavy read (it was a heavy write for me) but I hope you all enjoy this!

Long chapter ahead!

The summons arrived on a cool morning on Dragonstone. The raven knew all were fast asleep sole for one. Cold air rushed through Daemon's nose and up to his mind as he stood next to an open window. A knight had just left his quiet chambers, leaving him in a robe with a sealed letter in hand. Daemon was written on the cover in fine letters. Each letter was straight, curved in the right places, and perfectly in line with the one before and after.

It hadn't been long since he received word from his brother, or in this such a case, his court. It had actually not been long since he last visited King's Landing. He could count by hand the weeks that passed since he last roamed his former home. The king's second daughter, Helaena, was betrothed to her older brother Aegon and as a good tiding for the girls in the family, the king invited his nieces for some bonding with the dreamer girl. Daemon was surprised Viserys held the dear such an occasion, but his eyes felt the ink's deeper meaning just from the greeting.

Dearest brother...

A preparation. A warning. Daemon wiped his nose before he moved to the next line. The hallways of Dragonstone were quiet and the children were slumbering away in their chambers. His wife lay in their bed, under the sheets and furs to keep the breeze from fanning her skin. Daemon needed the fresh morning light to read the letter clearer, to see all the meanings within the lines. His hand gripped the parchment the further his eyes descended, burned brighter as he pulled apart double meanings and hidden phrases. He glazed past the introductions and greetings and dove to the heart of the letter--the biggest paragraph of them all. His breathing grew ragged when the mention of her spilled across the letter.

....The Princess Helaena requests the presence of Lady Saela Targaryen as a lady-in-waiting for her highness court. The Princess recounts fond memories she shared with the Lady and wishes her sweet presence in her everyday to be permanent. All servants, dressings, and accommodations lay prepared for the Lady's arrival....

It was a surprise. A bold move, Daemon complimented with raised brows. But it involved his daughter, his youngest daughter. Saela was still a child hiding behind her sister's shadows, lapping against her cousins' steps, and a growing woman. From what the Maesters whispered and he forced from a handmaid, she just flowered. Daemon crinkled his nose at the thought.

Why demand his youngest child among his three?

The letter, no, the summons demanded Saela's presence in the next seven days. It emphasized the great joy and happiness the princess Helaena would feel to have her favorite niece by her side. No other daughter was to attend on her behalf.

Bullshit.

A croaky laugh cracked through the room. Daemon's chest rose with sputtered laughs and his fingers pinched his alert eyes. A wry smile stretched the corners of his lips upwards. It was too late for him to switch out Saela for one of her sisters. The days where the girls could switch places and act as the other passed long ago; the twins even grew into unique features that stood them apart from each other.

Not Helaena. Daemon shook his head. That girl could not craft such a demand. The queen.

When Daemon visited last, his daughters joined him. The three-and-a-half day travel on boat was the same duration of their stay. While the girls bonded over tea, gowns, and childish talks, Daemon joined his brother every second he could. In his free time, which was limited, he would peek into side rooms, the gardens, or separate chambers to check on his daughters. Three times out for five, Daemon spotted Saela attached to Helaena's side while Alicent loomed over them. A whisper past Baela revealed the Queen had requested all of Saela's time that day and the previous.

"She calls for her after breaking our fast." Rhaena confided to her father on their third morning. She had just caught him before he departed for a meeting. Her speech was breathy--she ran--and her eyes bled into his soul. "And she just watches her."

Daemon hadn't much time to think about Rhaena's words before he marched into the council chambers. Men dressed in their house colours either stood around the table or sat waiting for their cups to be filled. Deep laughter rolled from one fat lord as he motioned to the King with his head.

"The boy is of age, isn't he? Aegon, isn't it. It is about time he takes a wife."

"And who would that be?" Another lord across the fat one asked. Daemon marched closer to hear their voices clearly, but halted when he heard names drop against the table.

"To keep the blood pure, won't his sister be the best choice? Or how about his cousins?"

It was then when Viserys realized his brother's presence and what the lord to his far right was talking about. The King didn't need another second to decipher the emotions across his face--anger, confusion, dying tolerance. Marrying off one his daughters could help their sad hearts after tragedy, but by the look of their father, Viserys knew not now, or, now ever. With a wave of his hand, he shushed all talk. He didn't a man leaving his a broken nose, animosity for a Targaryen, or dead.

When Daemon found his daughter later that day, the queen stood behind her with arms wide and eyes twinkling.

In his room with the letter, Daemon had time to think whilst Rhaenyra kissed him on the shoulder. Did dawn pass by so fast? The prince casted a glance to his wife skimming her eyes across the letter. The furrow of her brow marked she got the same place to.

"Are you going to do it?" Her brows raised in question. Are you going to send your youngest child to a den of vipers?

Daemon let his mind wander into dark clouds at the thought of leaving his daughter here. Laena left him with three children--girls, the realm's mightiest tools in times of diplomacy and wagers. Were he to leave one under his brother's nose, Sweet Old Saela, no one would blink an eye. She was the sweet, quiet child. He already has twins, leaving him still with the weight of raising girls. Saela was the perfect child, always abiding to rules and governance. Slip her a note on what to do, the girl will be a man's best soldier. Whisper her a scolding and she will bend her every value not to mess up again. Hells, when he begged his daughters to stop crying at a dinner one evening, Saela never talked for the rest of the night.

A soldier?

The fact Rhaenyra has a younger living brother threatened her established claim as heir. No one had to say it out loud: a son was all the king wanted, and even if his daughter stood in line behind him. A son would rally much more support than a woman with the Conqueror's crown.

Daemon cocked a brow. Saela could be his soldier, his extra eye in the Keep. While he converged his forces on Dragonstone, Saela would stay there, cozying up with his brother's wife. She was never the girl who liked rolling in mud or dallied in listening to Council meetings. No, she deserved the best linens and gowns and court. The girl could act as his extra pair of personal eyes and ears. She could get under her skin, worm her way into her mind. The prince knew no one stood a chance against his daughter's smile. She inherited from her mother. With Saela submerged into the Green mess that spilled across his home, Daemon needn't worry about a thing.

Saela would be his perfect soldier.

"I will." Daemon nodded. Rhaenyra peeked at the glint in his eyes.

That night following dinner, Saela cried at the news, but nevertheless prepared for the trip. Her sisters begged for her to stay, but as Daemon predicted, Saela took on her mission without complaint with an I will be fine. In their last pure moments together, Daemon prepared his mighty soldier for the battle she would face ahead. He knew she was prepared. Her emotions were in check beyond her years and she hadn't lived in Dragonstone for too long to grow too attached to the palace or its grounds. Unlike Baela or Jacaerys who obsessed over flying, Saela was a novice in comparison to them--her dragon had barely hatched and refused to show signs of flight.

The skin of a father was shed for Daemon to bare the armour of a soldier. For hours past the hour of the owl, he drilled passages and commands to Saela--from dining, to walking, to presenting her head. She was going to leave her home a measly girl and enter the capital, her arena, her battlefield, as an armed soldier and mighty weapon.

And a soldier Daemon saw his Saela become. When she greeted them for their tea, she stood tall, unwavering under his eyes, and proud. She nearly resembled the frigid woman Rhaenys became. Whenever he caught sight of her, Saela was the paradigm of his success--of her upbringing under him, trained knowledge of note-passing, and dining with the enemies. Daemon knew out of all his daughters, Saela won't crumble easy.

She overcame her mother's death faster than her sisters and won't let a thing brother her. To Daemon, she was mentally stronger in keeping her emotions and personal life out of politics or power moves.

His girl even overcame the disaster that was that dinner announcing new betrothals. Whereas Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Baela sprung for Aegon and Aemond, Saela was quiet. Like he, she calculated the scene next to Helaena. But where she had gone with her aunt, Daemon had not the slightest clue. The cool ocean air fanned his skin while he walked through the exposed halls of the Keep. The wine, unbridled emotions, and lack of sleep for some riled everyone out of the dining hall to separate corners of the castle. To keep his mind at peace, Daemon walked the paths above the garden to feel the clouded moonlight fan him.

Rhaenyra, before he departed their chambers, planned to cut their trip short and haul the family back to Dragonstone the following morning. The short notice gave him little time to make sure Saela was all right. Rhaenyra knew better. To make sure her allegiance is all right, to her, or her father.

"Where is my daughter?" Daemon asked a passing knight. His voice rose barely above a murmur. The dark-haired man shrugged his shoulders and tumbled out an I'm not aware.

After their meals, it was their own tradition to find each other hiding in secret passages. It was a game Daemon introduced to Saela a random night. (He and Laena had argued over something trivial and he was bored for once). One night each, either he or Saela would rush out following their meal and hide in any place that would fit them. Spots ranged from false walls, behind hanging banners, inside knights armours, to underneath the biggest skirt one could find. Every time an argument broke out or someone got in trouble and just breathing was a challenge in the hall, Daemon and Saela would whisk themselves out to play their game.

The idea Saela was playing again struck something cold and dull in Daemon's heart. She had escaped under his nose and was hiding all-too well.

To a passing handmaid, he asked the same thing. Two girls carrying basins of water quickly shook their heads. "If not in her chambers, she must be in the gardens, my prince."

Daemon hadn't bothered to give the servants another word before he marched to the nearest staircase. He had just descended the stairs when he saw her. Saela's head and her tightly-wound bun of silver curls rested on the shoulder of a woman. No, a handmaid. Two walked on either side of her, locked in arms with their backs to him. His practiced steps were silent against the stone path. Even though his daughter and her servants were several paces ahead, none would hear him.

So, she's not playing the game, but going for a walk.

In his silence, Daemon planned what to say. Hello, dear daughter. My good soldier. Have you kept those notes from years ago? Where I told you to watch and listen?

A wry smile cracked his face as he practiced. "I hope all is, my good daughter--"

"Stop."

Daemon froze.

"What is wrong with you?"

Saela had turned a corner before speaking to someone. The prince rose a brow as he prowled to the corner. He was about to step out and draw a weapon at the sound of a threat, but he quickly retreated.

"You just had to open your mouth? The boy is ten-and-five, a child!" Saela's voice seethed. Daemon narrowed his brows when the voice spoke clearer. Louder. It burned his blood when he matched the tone and depth of the man Saela talked to.

"He is a fool and a bastard." Aemond scoffed. Daemon didn't have to see his face to calculate the prince's anger.

"A boy, Aemond! He is a child, a fool, nothing he speaks is serious. Why did you let that...Lucerys get to you like that?"

Saela raised her voice before covering her mouth. Aemond's frame hid the girl from Daemon's sight, but he could see the One-Eyed cradle his daughter's face. In plain sight for anyone to see were Saela and Aemond talking like lovers. It took every muscle in Daemon not to laugh, or to scream. The glances Saela failed to hide at dinner made sense. Her hidden smile behind her cup. The twitch in her lips.

Why? Daemon asked himself, both to why Saela's and his own actions. Why did she react to Aemond like that and why didn't he confront them? Why was she allowing him to hold her, to whisper to her, to invade her space and not--

"The dinner..."

Daemon hadn't meant to whisper out into the night, but light clouds of his breath floated in the air above his lips. His mind pulled him back an hour ago, before the mess of drinks spilled and food wasted his brother left behind. Saela and Aemond watched each other lasciviously across the long table. Over their cups, as they cut their food or talked with the person on their right, they somehow managed to eye the other down. To calm his mind from jumping from his skull, he fooled himself into not believing what he saw. But he was a boy once--a man now--and could pick at the signs of lust. As he drank wine to calm the storm in his mind, Daemon could see Aemond undress his daughter with his one eye; he licked at her exposed chest and laughed at her open neck. In the moments he felt like hurling his meal or flipping a table, Daemon drank himself silly.

The drunk he wished for pooled to nothing now.

"What can I do to make it up to you, hmm?" Aemond hummed against Saela's skin. Although Daemon looked at the pair, his mind buffered in registering their actions. The fact Saela smiled as Aemond frisked his hands around her was like a dart to his glass mind.

No. Daemon looked away. Saela wouldn't allow herself a second to fall for a man like that. A crippled second-son would do nothing for Saela. She deserved someone stronger, fiercer, and--

"You don't get to kiss me."

Daemon straightened at his daughter's words. Kiss? Who is his daughter kissing? When he peered around the corner, his body tensed. Aemond had Saela pinned to the Keep's cold walls with one hand on her cheek and the other caressing her thigh. The handmaidens backs faced him, allowing him total freedom to see Aemond fondle Saela's skin between her legs. Although she disallowed Aemond entrance into her with her words, her hands toyed his hair and her lips ghosted his red cheeks.

"Do you know how much stress I've dealt with by myself?"

Saela's voice went soft, but it ached with raw pain. She spoke only for Aemond to hear. The prince muted the racing of his heart to hear his daughter's confession, but all he could see were her lips flapping and hear the tough drags of her nose. Whatever Saela revealed to Aemond warranted her a kiss. The sound of lips smacking made Daemon cringe. He slammed his back to the wall. Between the wet kisses, pants, and shuffles of fabric, Daemon picked up a few words and phrases.

"....Ilaena was horribly, sick, Aemond." Another kiss. Daemon noted the hard knot between her brow.

"..red in the face.." Kiss on the neck.

"...you didn't bother asking if she..." a loud moan soared from her lips. "Helaena and Alicent were the only ones to..."

The unbuckling of a belt and light laugh set Daemon off. "I'll make it up to you, my love." The One-Eyed Prince laughed in the night. In the dark, he saw red. The raging thump of his heart broke his eardrums, muting him to the moans around the corner. It took everything in him not to spear Aemond with Dark Sister. The sensual cry from Saela chased the prince away.

His boots stomped holes into the ground as he marched down the hall. If a knight or simple handmaid crossed the wrong path at the wrong time with him, their shoulders bore wounds of their collision. Daemon couldn't care less about a whining annoyance. All he could focus on were the shadows he saw dance outside; their hushed voices, kisses, and pants fogged his mind harsher than any storm. This itself was a storm, the hardest he faced both on land and on dragonback.

No guard stopped Daemon from pushing his way into Saela's bedchamber.

He waited. Without making a sound, or even a breath, the bedchambers were lifeless. It was like Daemon never stood in the middle of it all. Proof of his existence was the fire. The fact he could feel it proved his life at that moment was true--that what he witnessed was true. The crackling of wood reminded the prince his hearing was perfect. It told his mind he could not misjudge a thing, even if wished it was wrong.

Daemon's eyes glossed to life when the door opened. The hushed giggling erupted into frigid gasps. Saela must have jumped when she noticed him.

"Wait here," she said to two other voices.

"Leave." Daemon commanded. The hand holding the wrist behind his back clenched his skin worse than any chains or armor. The figures at the door made no move to leave. Either they were confused or they wished to meet his blade.

"I said leave."

"No, they can stay." Saela whispered something to the women. Palina, Arah. The names echoed in Daemon's mind. It dawned on him when he finally recognized who they were. In a letter addressed to him right after Saela settled into the Keep, she told him of the handmaidens assigned to her.

Palina and Arah are at my beck and call...it is fun having maids at your command. Now I know how you feel with your soldiers.

The same handmaidens she wrote about years ago were still at her side? Daemon lodged the thought deep into his skull. His shoulders squared straight when he stood tall. He hadn't turned around, but could see and feel the contemplation dancing on the women's faces.

"Defy me again and I'll slit your throats. Leave."

Not even the fire could cool Daemon's skin when the moans and kisses echoed in his mind. His lip curled at the smacks he heard, at the licks and spits he could feel across his skin. The slam of the chamber doors reaped the man from his nightmares.

"You didn't have to chase them away like that. They are loyal servants." Saela sighed before moving towards her father. He heard her smooth down her gown, probably rumpled from the mess she was in. "I wasn't expecting you so late, father. Is there something you want to talk about?"

Daemon needed time to breath. His back heaved with a heavy weight and his mouth dried before he could speak.

"Where were you?"

"For a walk. Did you want to come along--"

"With whom?" Daemon heard Saela move. Side steps, a nervous dance. She rubbed her hands against her gown with a long breath.

"With Palina and Arah--"

"You call your servants by name? What are they, your friends?" The shadow haunting Daemon's frame reigned over Saela's against the stone wall. The flames from the fire could be his own, heaved from his tongue.

"They are lovely girls, father. We are not far in age--"

"Do you think me a fool, Saela?" Daemon moved to feel the fire against his back. His head teetered down while his gaze bore to the left at his youngest daughter. "Why would a lady like you go for a walk at this hour?"

Saela's chest rose high. The chain around her neck tightened. It was a rope of Daemon's lashes tightening around her neck. Slowly and steadily did it rise to choke her.

"T-that is what--"

"I know you are smarter than this, Saela. Why would you do this to yourself?"

The tone in the prince's voice fell to a sympathetic level. He sounded sad, mournful, even. His shoulders fell when his body finally turned to face his child. He wanted her to see him downed, to see his pain. He wanted her to know he knew and she could do nothing but admit it. He wanted to hear it from her.

"Why would allow someone like that to do that to you?"

Saela felt her eyes sting. Her father had that power over her, hurting her eyes before anything else. It was only him that could make her cry before she felt the heavy pain in her chest. It was only Prince Daemon that scared her so much she couldn't breathe.

What he said tore through her. How could she let him do that to her? The Heart of the House, her uncle, the king, would call her. The sweet Heart that everyone adored, everyone thought pure, allowed something so vile inside her. She allowed herself to be tainted by a dark hole everyone tried to cover, to shield--no, to ignore. The last of Prince Daemon's daughters, the girls that would honor their father with honorable acts, was the most dishonorable of all.

All those thoughts swamped Saela's mind until she was breathless, crying mess. Her father was a blur of black leather and silver details, a monster she couldn't understand nor defeat. Saela could only bare herself honestly in front of the soldier that stared her down.

"How old?"

"W-what?" Saela was breathless, her voice airy and shaky. Faith in her voice crashed to the ground when Daemon towered his head over her own. She had to brace her muscles to not let her body drop.

"How old were you when he--"

Daemon bared his teeth. He couldn't finish the question nor formulate the words on his tongue. Claimed you. Fucked you. Took advantage of you. Tormented you. The words spat around in his mind, assaulting him from all angles and it could have made the man sick. But he stomached it down and shook his head. As a father, the thought of asking his daughter when she was deflowered sickened him. Why should he, a man of his stature, ask a lady--his daughter, at that--such a question?

"How old were you, Saela?"

The way Daemon spoke her name scared the girl into confession. It was fatherly, courageous, or kind. It reeked of grimace, of...of disgust.

He thinks me disgusting.

The girl silently balled as she answered. "Three-and--" The deep chuckle Daemon let out from the depths of his throat silenced Saela's whispered words. Of every conversation she imagined, this way, this manner, never came to mind. Saela never wished to spill her life's truths and secrets to her family like this, shrunken in a cowardice, crying mess.

"P-please father, don't--"

"Don't what? Don't kill him?"

"Please, no!" Saela screamed. Her watery eyes noted her father's light touches to Dark Sister. She knew her shaking bones and crumpled gown were Aemond's only defense between life and sudden death. "Please, don't hurt him."

"Why? Do you love him?" Daemon to hear it. Hear the name. Hear her guilt.

The mind of the Targaryen girl spiraled. After everything--her new life in court, building a new life with her cousins, growing close to allied and enemy houses, building her own life--it came crashing down in one night. No lie, no distraction, no escape was offered to her.

"He is using you, Saela, for his own selfish needs. He does not love you, no one here does. No one will ever truly appreciate you here."

Saela's fingers dug themselves into her sleeves. Spools of lace trickled to the floor as she cried. No one will ever truly appreciate you here. But they do, Saela yelled at herself. When her one and only family left her in King's Landing she visited a handful of times, Helaena, Alicent, Aemond, and even Aegon took her in as family. Come nights she dreamed of her mother's vanishing hand, Alicent was there to rub her back and sing her songs. Come days she missed dragon riding with her sisters or walking the mountains with the Velaryon boys, Aemond and Aegon joined her without tell.

Daemon watched time pass through his daughter's eyes and he shook his head. "Do you truly believe they love you?"

"W-why would you...?" Saela couldn't lift her head.

Were all the times she spent dancing, embroidering, reading, sleeping, and playing with Helaena and Alicent a lie? No. They love me. Helaena and Alicent replaced the times she lost with her sisters and mother.

And Aemond. O, the prince was her shield from days she remembered horror times. He was the saving hand that pulled her from nightmares--when she lost her mother and the brother she never got to know. He shielded her from nightmares and dances of attitudes. Aemond was still the boy she found in the library in Driftmark that would listen to her ramble--still the boy that protected her mind from thoughts of darkness and doom.

Aemond was the bed her tightened heart and head could explode on.

"I...I..."

"What, Saela?" Daemon narrowed his eyes. Past the tears, tear stains, and messy hair, he could see growing fires in his daughter's eyes. They were flames of resolve and passion. They were flames he had to snuff out. "Don't you say--"

"I love him, father. I love Aemond and you cannot do a thing about it."

She said it. Silence fell between the pair. A mixture of sneer and grin crossed Daemon's face. It resembled a dragon's smile before it devoured its prey. The look on her father's face revealed the rage he didn't shame himself in hiding. Saela caught the lighting of a wildfire when she caught her breath. It was too late.

"I...no..."

Saela felt her heart beat slower and slower. I said it and Daemon waited for me. Her body didn't realize it shook in the presence of dragon's flames. She shook her head before she could say another word.

"You love fucking Aemond Targaryen?" Saela jumped at the tone of her father's voice. "Why? Because he's your cousin? Because he fucks you in the garden for everyone to see?"

He saw. The girl's stomach dropped. Everything she's done in the past years to perfect her secret were ruined once her family came back into her life. The shell Alicent crafted around her, for her, as a second mother, cracked with every yell Daemon released. Then something festered within her. A toil of anger and resentment. How dare he lie to me? Her life was perfect. Walks with her cousins were always lovely. Long walks with her uncle where they talked about everything he could remember filled her life's missing gaps. Only now that her sisters, father, and step-brothers enter her home, her life, everything she's created is slowly come to ruin.

"Tolī mirre eman gaomagon..."

Saela closed her eyes with a long sigh. Her hands covered her face as she shook her head. Daemon stepped closer to hear her words, but she side-stepped him to pace her room.

After all I have done.

"What?" Daemon cocked a brow. His shoulders twitched.

"So now you care about me? Now, after all these years, you think to care about what I'm doing or who I'm with."

As Daemon peered over his daughter, he lost sight of her. Yes, she stood in front of him, but she wasn't crying or apologizing like she always would have. This wasn't the Saela who would wipe her face and vow to never disobey her father again. No, the woman in front of him bore tears of anger. The previous knot between her brows fell and she stood tall to match his height.

"In this house, these people were the only ones to stand by my side. I know they care about me--"

"I am your father, Saela. I know they don't care about you--"

"Shut up!" The girl screamed in defiance. It was a child's way of building their truth, but as an adult, Daemon could crush it. He saw the plans in her mind race when she shook a hand.

"I said not a word when you married Rhaenyra. I said not a word when you took in Jace and Luke and Joffrey as your own. I was the nice daughter and accepted them as my brothers."

"This has nothing to do with--"

"I said nothing when Rhaena cried to me saying you ignore her! I said nothing when--"

"You are not listening, Saela!" Daemon marched forward. His chest bumped the woman back, but she didn't stumble.

"I didn't say anything after mother died and you married her--"

"He is your cousin!"

"And she is your niece!" Saela screamed. Sweat crawled across their skin in the room. Be it fatigue, wine from earlier hitting them, or unresolved tensions from the years, neither Daemon nor Saela took a step back.

"Have we not fulfilled our family's fucked-up customs?" Daemon lowered his chin at the exasperated sigh. He leaned his head forward so his eyes could level Saela's wide stare back at him. Her body didn't shake anymore and if he didn't seethe in a cloud of anger, would have admired his daughter for the strength she carried. "You settle your cock deep into your niece's cunt while I warm up by cousin's bed. We are pure-blooded Targaryens, father--"

"Shut your mouth."

Daemon hadn't raised his voice, but the bass of his tone silenced Saela. Her mouth wavered shut, but her eyes burned with thousands of unsaid words. A scratching quiet surrounded the pair, forcing them for words. The crackling of the heat had died in comparison to their ferocity.

Saela cracked an odd smile before she bowed her head. When she looked up, it didn't reach her eyes for miles.

"Was she not eight-and-ten when you claimed her in a brothel?"

Red burned in Daemon's eyes. All he saw was blood rushing through his vision.

"Aemond had the dignity of a man to fuck me lovingly in his chambers."

Daemon's blood boiled higher than any power. No wine or ocean could muddle or cleanse his brain. HIs mind didn't react to his body moving across the cold floor. The prince's eyes were nothing but drops of black as they stared down at Saela choking. His grip around her throat was loose enough for her to breath freely but tight enough his fingers brushed each other around her neck. His other hand was raised but frozen in the air.

When Daemon blinked next, Saela was crying and his hands dropped without question. In front of her was a dragon, not a man. Heat of dragon's flame burned around her neck so much, she cringed at the burn, then laughed.

What stood before Daemon wasn't his daughter. It was a creature from another world. Possessed, a Maester would say. Magic, a skeptic would claim. This is not Saela. Daemon's brow fell, his heart dropped, and corners of his mouth ached. His daughter that would laugh at his failed jokes and dance with her sisters whenever she could was gone. The person before him had her face, but not her soul.

"You are no more clean than I am, father."

In slow waves, the girl walked away. Backward steps forced him to watch her face morph from laughing to a blank slate. Step. Step. Step. Her hands braced each furniture she bumped into, but she never turned away. Slowly, slowly, creepily, Saela's face turned again and Daemon could see her return. The dying flames calmed her mind to understand the madness she unleashed in her chambers. The wandering of her eyes and quick rise of her chest simmered whatever heat and anger she reached for. Before she could fall onto the couch, Saela whipped around to wipe her face.

It was now Daemon remembered he was a father. Her father.

"Who is Ilaena?"

Saela stopped short of the door. Daemon let his arms hang by his sides after relaxing his shoulders. He hadn't realized the knot he forced his body in until he felt like melting into a pool of body mass. Daemon asked again when silence was delivered with his daughter's back.

"A-a friend." Saela drew back snot.

The lie was a thick as a morning yawn. Daemon heard the gasp she let out when he spoke the name and could hear the hesitance Saela spoke with.

"Iksan aōha kepa." I am your father.

A reminder to them. Second by second, Daemon's voice warmed to the tone he always spoke to her with. It was like the dragon from before never existed, never threatened her. He spoke like he was never disgusted by her.

“I am a father and husband, Saela. Who is--"

"Some call her a whore." The little voice trembled. It was muffled between Saela's frame and the thick doors, but it bounced to Daemon's ears.

"The Lannister's say the vow to Rhaenyra wasn't made by them...House Wylde would suck a man's cock if anything..."

Saela sniffled, but the end of her words hinted at a laugh. Her voice no longer had the edge from earlier--the venomous bite Daemon worried he would catch. It resembled the call of a small child who raced for her father. The girl reached up as she spoke, but could never reach the hand that pulled back from her.

"But it's Otto who, who masters everything."

The heavy chamber doors slammed behind Saela after her confession, leaving Daemon in her cold chambers. In the dim silence, his body melted to the floor. The girl he hugged tightly years ago that one fateful night was unrecognizable just now. The sweet child he sent instructions and guides became something he never imagined. Saela became a soldier--a woman obedient to order, instruction, and command. She now joined the war that consumed their family but Daemon wasn't sure which side she fought for.

His Sweet Saela was a girl no more, but a woman cracked, and soldier worn.

Taglist: @malfoycassimalfoy

#hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x targaryen!oc #aemond targaryen x saela targaryen #house of the dragon x oc #hotd x oc #hotd angst #house of the dragon angst #sweet saela #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader

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