All that grace

All that body

All that face

Makes me wanna party 💞

MATT SMITH as DAEMON TARGARYEN in House Of The Dragon Season 2 Trailer

PSA Name change:

Therogueprincedaemon -> theroguedragons

Originally I wanted to name this profile the rogue prince for obvious reasons, but since that was taken I added daemons name. I never liked that it was so long and when I started to add Daena, I knew I will have to change it one day but that also means I need another promo. Unless that comes you’ll find my old one still pinned under the old name just so you don’t get confused. Daemon is still my main muse here but since I now write Daena in modern verse too she will definitely be more active here and deserves the representation. Thank you for the continuing support ❤️

PSA Name change:

Therogueprincedaemon -> theroguedragons

Originally I wanted to name this profile the rogue prince for obvious reasons, but since that was taken I added daemons name. I never liked that it was so long and when I started to add Daena, I knew I will have to change it one day but that also means I need another promo. Unless that comes you’ll find my old one still pinned under the old name just so you don’t get confused. Daemon is still my main muse here but since I now write Daena in modern verse too she will definitely be more active here and deserves the representation. Thank you for the continuing support ❤️

Samara Weaving

Scream VI (2023)

There was a fascination in her gaze. A moment of curiosity for this man who represented everything she didn’t have and still she couldn’t show any of it. Instead her facial expression didn’t change while she tried to stand his intriguing stare. Slowly she leaned forward, just enough to take his hand with a glimpse of a smile that appeared on the corner of her lips. “Igor.” By repeating his name it sounded like she wanted to reassure him that she would remember, that she acknowledged his presence before she let go of his hand again and crossed her legs, her posture straightened and in control once more.

“Mhm, of course he did. He’s a charmer that one.” she murmured and turnt her head to look at her husband still arguing with his men on the hallway, trying to make it seem like she longed for him when in fact she only enjoyed the distance they had in this moment. “Caged?” His assessment sent a shiver through her body. Was it so obvious that she simply didn’t belong here? That she yearned to break free and breathe when it was so dangerous to admit anything like that in this house where walls were her greatest listeners?

Nervously she fiddled with her white laced dress and cleared her throat before turning back to Igor again, correcting the polite smile on her face as if his assumption didn’t insecure her to the core. “You must have gotten a very wrong impression sir Igor.” Daena wasn’t used to someone that cared like this. Someone who asked questions instead of making assumptions without caring about the truth. It was refreshing and even more intriguing than his whole presence had been before, but it didn’t change the way she let her fingernails scratch along the edges of her long sleeves on the inside of her wrist where she hid the scars former applied chains had left on her.

“My husband treats me very fairly.” she stated in a cold and detached tone, words she had learnt to say that way and made her gaze lower so he wouldn’t expose the lie here. “Even though… he doesn’t understand that the birds singing is most beautiful when the sun is still set.” Daena reached for the deck of cards, shuffling it in her hand until she could draw one by one and placed them as a new pile on top of the table. The four of hearts card was the one she stopped at, her thumb wiping over the paper while her blues followed every inch. “Did he show you our garden? Beautiful place. Reachable straight from my bedroom cause I asked him for it.”

Her head lifted before she leaned over, the card in her hand flatly pressed against the wooden desk before she shoved it over to Igor’s place, staring back at him with a plea hidden in her eyes. “Maybe you’ll catch the birds singing next time Igor.”

Freedom. After all these years being kept in thick walls, handed around like a trophy of her father who had only ever seen her as exactly that: an item that had a price tag on it, Daena was convinced she would never really get a taste of how it really felt to live. She read about the normal life. She watched it on tv secretly at night in her marble rooms she despised because they were just as empty and cold as her soul and skin. And just when she thought she would finally get to experience it, she found out soon enough that again she was just handed to another golden cage after her father’s passing.

There was no place for a woman in this business. Her naive dream of taking over her family’s land or washing their name clean was faster destroyed than she had time to mourn her distant and emotionless father who was after all the only man she really ever had contact to. Her mother died so early that she couldn’t even remember her face, but sometimes she heard from her maidens that Daena must have shared many of her physical features. It made her proud somehow cause in her head she always imagined that her mother, if she would have been alive longer, could have watched over her father’s doings. That she maybe would take over the business herself and built her own empire. Maybe she would have even been able to soothe her fathers heart, when in the end she only ever met a cold hearted monster who just saw the meaning in money in business but never in someone’s heart.

It could have been different. Maybe it still could get different. But the last weeks of her new marriage had been anything but pleasant to the still young Daena who only ever craved to live once. It was a nice change at first to have so many people around at these meetings, but she learnt early enough that even here she wasn’t really a wanted guest. She should stand still, remain quiet and smile, say yes to her husband and provide him with anything he would ever need before she was told to leave again, left with one listening to the voices nearby. She did everything that was asked of her, but most of it got never rewarded. Instead she got punished at night when her husband didn’t even look at her while using her body to his favors in a way that would disgust her. An item. Again.

Tonight it was more quiet cause most of the men were out for business and as always Daena used the chance to secretly spy on what was going on, spotting that man she had seen many times before but never was allowed to talk to. Igor represented something for her she only read about before. Someone who could leave and travel the world without caring about any consequences. He was dangerous, that much was clear but wasn’t everyone around here these days? At least he had seen the world, that was something most of these people could only dream about.

Diago had left the room to yell at his staff like he often would and Daena walked up to him with a gentle smile, the same smile she was taught to use but was nothing else than empty. In the corner of her eyes she looked over to the big room where Igor sat, spotting the play cards on the table and the empty glass he had just placed there. “I will bring your guests new glasses, husband. You take care of your business.” Diago was too stressed to intervene, instead he just waved his hand and murmured something like “do whatever you want” which made her use this chance with a smirk and entered the room.

Slowly she approached Igor and sat down on the arm rest of the chair across him, the laced white dress on her still reminding her of that horrible wedding day she wished to delete from her memories. “It is nice to see you in person finally, Igor. I’m Daena and…” well he probably knew that, wouldn’t he? Latest by that heavy ring she wore on her hand. “…I noticed your glass is empty. My husband and his men are currently occupied but in case you need anything, I might be a help for that.” Her head tilted and eyes fell over to the cards again. “Funny game, isn’t it? Did you win?”

Last Moment of Clarity (2020)

Reality Bites (1994) dir. Ben Stiller

via @allanface

I don't what to leave this world without knowing love fully. You are loved. Fully.

via @samweaving

Freedom. After all these years being kept in thick walls, handed around like a trophy of her father who had only ever seen her as exactly that: an item that had a price tag on it, Daena was convinced she would never really get a taste of how it really felt to live. She read about the normal life. She watched it on tv secretly at night in her marble rooms she despised because they were just as empty and cold as her soul and skin. And just when she thought she would finally get to experience it, she found out soon enough that again she was just handed to another golden cage after her father’s passing.

There was no place for a woman in this business. Her naive dream of taking over her family’s land or washing their name clean was faster destroyed than she had time to mourn her distant and emotionless father who was after all the only man she really ever had contact to. Her mother died so early that she couldn’t even remember her face, but sometimes she heard from her maidens that Daena must have shared many of her physical features. It made her proud somehow cause in her head she always imagined that her mother, if she would have been alive longer, could have watched over her father’s doings. That she maybe would take over the business herself and built her own empire. Maybe she would have even been able to soothe her fathers heart, when in the end she only ever met a cold hearted monster who just saw the meaning in money in business but never in someone’s heart.

It could have been different. Maybe it still could get different. But the last weeks of her new marriage had been anything but pleasant to the still young Daena who only ever craved to live once. It was a nice change at first to have so many people around at these meetings, but she learnt early enough that even here she wasn’t really a wanted guest. She should stand still, remain quiet and smile, say yes to her husband and provide him with anything he would ever need before she was told to leave again, left with one listening to the voices nearby. She did everything that was asked of her, but most of it got never rewarded. Instead she got punished at night when her husband didn’t even look at her while using her body to his favors in a way that would disgust her. An item. Again.

Tonight it was more quiet cause most of the men were out for business and as always Daena used the chance to secretly spy on what was going on, spotting that man she had seen many times before but never was allowed to talk to. Igor represented something for her she only read about before. Someone who could leave and travel the world without caring about any consequences. He was dangerous, that much was clear but wasn’t everyone around here these days? At least he had seen the world, that was something most of these people could only dream about.

Diago had left the room to yell at his staff like he often would and Daena walked up to him with a gentle smile, the same smile she was taught to use but was nothing else than empty. In the corner of her eyes she looked over to the big room where Igor sat, spotting the play cards on the table and the empty glass he had just placed there. “I will bring your guests new glasses, husband. You take care of your business.” Diago was too stressed to intervene, instead he just waved his hand and murmured something like “do whatever you want” which made her use this chance with a smirk and entered the room.

Slowly she approached Igor and sat down on the arm rest of the chair across him, the laced white dress on her still reminding her of that horrible wedding day she wished to delete from her memories. “It is nice to see you in person finally, Igor. I’m Daena and…” well he probably knew that, wouldn’t he? Latest by that heavy ring she wore on her hand. “…I noticed your glass is empty. My husband and his men are currently occupied but in case you need anything, I might be a help for that.” Her head tilted and eyes fell over to the cards again. “Funny game, isn’t it? Did you win?”

Closed starter for @therogueprincedaemon (for Daena)

Los Zetas has grown in size, power and influence since Igor’s last visit to Mexico. The Pakhan still remembers the days when the Zetas were less than 30 in number, men employed to protect high-ranking members of the Gulf cartel. Many were ex-military; intelligence specialists with wide ranging weapons expertise, well versed in paramilitary tactics, which is likely why, in 2003, the Mexican Defence Department separated out Los Zetas as the most formidable death squad to have worked for organized crime in Mexican history. Those days however, are long gone; the organisation is now well established in its own right, with hundreds of members. The Zetas no longer take orders from the Gulf Cartel or any other cartel for that matter. They operate a range of illicit businesses, though their international dealings focus mainly on money laundering, gun and drug smuggling. Their leader, a man named Diago Garcia Cortez, has been an associate of Igor’s for over a decade now, since a disagreement between the Gulf Cartel and Bratva led to Bortsov seeking out a new supplier. It is a business relationship that has been strained at several points over the years, but one that has ultimately stood the test of time…so far.

The weather in North Mexico is too arid for Igor’s tastes, and while the coastal breeze in Tamaulipas provides some relief, it is often extremely short lived. Diago’s hacienda is fitted with good quality air-conditioning, but that is of little use when your host insists on leaving all the windows wide open to let in the night air and the steady sound of the rolling tide. Sitting back down at the card table, Igor pours himself a neat glass of Vodka and lights another cigarette. As the cards are shuffled, the Pakhan reminds himself of the rules of Monte; the Mexican version of poker.

The room tonight is more sombre than usual, normally it would be filled with Los Zetas soldiers, drinking their fill, surrounded by a plethora of liquor, drugs and prostitutes. Tonight however, is a very different affair, mainly because many of Diago’s men are tending to some disturbance down in Mexico City. Only Igor, Diago and his brother Basilio are sat at the table. Nicholai is also here, but the old Russian has chosen to sit out on the balcony, keeping watch while he chain-smokes; knowing he too easily looses his temper when gambling.

“They call it a Columbian neck tie…” Diego explains, laughing, “…the tongue…it pokes through here…” Miming the movement over-enthusiastically, Diago wiggles his finger around the imaginary slit in his throat; he’s clearly had more than his fair share of Mezcal tonight.  

Nodding quietly as Diago sits back down in his seat, Igor softly leans his cigarette on the side of the ashtray. “Yes, we have similar in Russian, though it is not tongue, but rather, how-you-say, the cojones (testicles)…” Igor mimics two large balls and bursts out laughing in tandem with the other men.

“You missed my wedding.” Diago unexpectedly announces, cutting through the laughter as he begins dealing the cards.  

“He talks of cojones and all you can think about is your wife?” Basilio laughs, elbowing his brother in the ribs. “You got married, it was a lovely day, now you have blue cojones...bla, bla bla, who cares, lets play cards!”

Examining the hand he has been just been dealt, Igor soon realises that their card game won’t begin until Diago has finished talking about his new wife. The Pakhan listens carefully as Diago describes her, taking in each and every detail. What is clear from the way his associate is talking about his new, much younger, much blonder wife, Daena, is that he considers her some kind of trophy, an accolade he has been awarded for his success. Neither of the Garcia brothers are from well-established families, they were poor – brawling boys brought up in the dirt to become two of the most powerful men in Mexico. Now, it seems Diago, through his recent nuptials, has secured some kind of legitimacy beyond that power; the kind that can only be obtained by marriage into a reputable european bloodline.

Igor of course remembers Diago’s last wife, the one who met her untimely end when the Zetas received intelligence that she had been informing on the organisation to the CIA. Intelligence that in the end proved to be false, not that Diago would ever accept that truth. Bortsov can only hope his new wife fairs better.

Glancing up from his cards, Igor notices Basilio take what looks to be an urgent call, presumably relating to the current unrest in Mexico City. Standing up to leave the room, Basilio gestures for Diago to join him. Igor, in turn, quite used to the kind of interruptions that must be immediately dealt with, nods, making clear he is content to wait. As the pair leave, the Pakhan hears Diago briefly bark an order at someone in the corridor, one of the staff waiting staff he imagines - the drinks are getting low. Relaxing back into his chair, Bortsov pulls out his cell to check his calls while he waits in hope for more Vodka to arrive.

//as promised I will be back here soon latest when the new season begins ❤️ meanwhile I will focus on modern verses for Daena and Daemon on here 😌 hope you’re all well ❤️

Samara Weaving