#Generals!daughter

[sturniololuv08]

Sturniolo Answers ONLY

[spitblaze]

I guess Chilchuck has brought us right back to 'adults who are short are child-coded and if you like them you're a pedophile' discourse huh

[punishedlamb]

a lost inbred photo shoot. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

— ethel cain

[morgan-n-cheese-91]

old Obi-Wan is so funny to me because his sass and overall bitchiness is like the last thing he's got and I'm so proud it survived the great depression of his 40s.

[ministarfruit]

day 12: karma ♡

(femslashfeb prompt list)

[spacedace]

It was the final hour. Doomsday at their door, with only hours left before the world was consumed entirely and every last living thing was devoured right along with it.

Summoning the High King of the Infinite Realms was the only option left, and even then felt more like choosing a firing squad rather than a noose at the end of the day. Pariah Dark might - might - accept the task of destroying the foe they faced, but tmit would come at a cost that was near equal to doing nothing at all. Provided the tyrannical ruler simply didn't let them all die, an entire planet dead was an entire planet to add to his endless armies.

They had to try. Stupid and suicidal as it was.

Zantanna and John worked in silence as they created the summoning circle, hands shaking and stomachs cramping as they worked under the apprehensive eyes of the rest of the League. They all understood that no matter what happened, they would all likely end up dead by the end of it. That the best case scenario meant that death was only the beginning of their problems.

Candles were lit. Insense burned. Blood spilled. Words spoken.

Nothing.

Nothing.

It failed, not so much as a flicker of magic. Which was impossible, they'd checked and confirmed a dozen times that they had the right ritual, that they were following the steps, they had done everything right way wasn't it working? What had they done wr-

"Ugh, gross is that blood?"

Elle Phantom, fifteen minuted late to the site of the ritual with both the boys Super, the most murderous Robin and a sugary abomination of an iced coffee from Starbucks, scrunched her nose in disgust as she looked at the summoning circle.

"This ritual is so out of date, where did you even find it? Wait is that Latin? Who tries to summon someone from the Ghost Zone in Latin?"

John had burned through every drop of alcohol and cigarette he owned hours ago while trying to find this bloody damn ritual and was very much not in the mood for the little hellspawn's color commentary on the process.

"I don't bloody well seeing you providing with any alternatives for summoning the Ghost King." He swore, turning away from the gremlin to tear through the ancient book he and Zantanna had discovered with the ritual inside.

There was a loud slurping noise as the undead hero sucked the last remnants of her drink through the straw. John's brow twitched, even Zantanna - who usually seemed endeared by the chaos goblin - looked at the end of her rope.

Then - "Oh, is that who you wanted to summon? Why didn't you say so?" She drifted over, handing her empty drink off to a disgruntled looking Batman, and began rummaging through the unused magival supplies left over from the - failed - summoning circle. "Here, give me like, five minutes."

John was fairly certain his head was about to explode.

"You know how to summon the Ghost King? You?"

Phantom rolled her eyes at him. "Duh, obviously."

"Obviously." Zantanna repeated, looking like she was half a moment away from having a breakdown. She didn't try to stop the ghostly girl, though, and to be fair neither was John. They were already fucked, might as well let the gremlin try her hand at it.

It took less than the five minutes Phantom had claimed she needed.

When she was done there was a significantly smaller circle on the ground. At the cardinal directions of the circle, written clockwise she'd drawn not any magical runes but instead what appeared to be the Roman Numerals for one, then two, then something akin to a sideways T with an additional mark rising upward from the long horizontal bar, then the letter L.

It had to have some kind of ancient magical significance John didn't know as Shazam made a noise like a dying goose and squeaked out the word Loss like it was a question. Phantom gave the Champion of Magic a sharp toothed grin before adding some words in a language John didn't know before she finally allowed gravity to pull her back to earth and plant her feet on the ground.

She wiped her hands together a bit dramatically, looking pleased with herself, but at that point John didn't care. He could feel the building magic, heavy and oppressive as she had begun her task. Unlike the circle he and Zantanna had attempted, this one was working.

He couldn't help thr nervous swallow he gave as Phantom then declared, with a strange amount of seriousness. "All that’s left are the words."

She took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment, and the world went utterly silent around them. This, John could feel, this was the real deal. Fuck him sideways the hellspawn was actually doing it.

Phantom's eyes opened, glowing with that bright eerie green light of her power. Another deep breath and then -

"You are my dad! You're my dad!" He watched, any scraps of hope she'd instilled in him dying an undignified death as she gave a terrible little wiggle dance while she sang(?) Off key, "Boogie woogie woogie!"

Every last person on Earth was going to die and one of John's last moments was going to be spent watching the little undead shit do the Macarena. Well fuck him, he guessed.

Then there was the sound of the veil between the world's tearing in two and the fucking Ghost King was standing in Phantom's summoning circle screaming in a screeching falsetto:

"When will you learn? When will you learn that your actions have consequences!"

You know what actually at this point John would rather the apocalypse kill him.

[yu-jimin]

💝🤍

[untitled-tmnt-blog]

I absolutely HAD to draw something for @phoebepheebsphibs's DTIYS (based on this pose)! I decided to mix things up a bit by experimenting with a more limited color palette, which was a pretty fun challenge.

[black-rose-writings]

My mom, after spending an extended weekend with my dad's old college classmates and their families: It's so weird that all of these very weird, intelligent and structured men who got their masters in engineering in the late 1980s have sons that are all autistic and daughters who all have mood disorders.

Me: Yeah, very weird. Why could that be?

[ho-for-joequinn-fics]

The Emperor’s Angel

This is probably the only thing I’ll ever write on this blog since my main focus is writing for Eddie on @eddiemunsonfuxks, so enjoy this one and done fic of our newly beloved Emperor Geta 🥴

Emperor Geta x General Acacius’ Daughter!Reader

warnings: I don’t know jack shit about the Roman Empire, so we’re just going to pretend that I do 💀 Let’s pretend for the sake of this fic that all the children in Rome are on a lovely little field trip for the day 💀 18+ only! Minors DNI! This fic isn’t for you! possessive!Emperor Geta, Geta uses a pet name (Angel) for Reader instead of her real name, death threats, unprotected p in v smut, rough sex, public sex, exhibitionism, breeding kink, creampie, profanity, etc

Anxiety and rage coursed through your veins as you slipped away from the rowdy Colosseum to escape the ordeal that your father, the General of the Roman army, had gotten you into.

He was challenged by Lucius, son of Lucilla, to fight him in the Colosseum to the death, but instead of agreeing and battling him like a real warrior, he offered you up instead. Not to fight in his place, no, but to give you up to marry Lucius as some sort of bullshit peace offering, and much to your dismay, Lucius agreed to the offer.

There was only one problem with that, you belonged to Emperor Geta.

You and the Emperor had been seeing each other behind your father’s back for several months now, quite close to nearing the one year mark, and with how possessive he was of you, you just knew there was no way in Hell he was letting you go to Lucius of all people.

You had seen the rage in your lover’s gaze when he stared at your father in disbelief, Emperor Geta shocked that your father cared more about his own life rather than his precious daughter. Emperor Caracalla had glanced over at you with a weary look in his eyes, knowing this wasn’t going to end well for both Lucius and your dad considering his brother’s short temper and sadistic tendencies.

That’s when you had fled from the Colosseum and headed towards your chambers in the palace, not wanting to stick around and witness what events would unfold after Lucius agreed to marry you, nor wanting to face your father after he handed you over to someone you despised. There was absolutely no way you were marrying that man, especially since your heart wholeheartedly belonged to Emperor Geta in all his sadistic glory.

Little did you know, he was in hot pursuit of you after screaming in your father’s face that you belonged to him and that no one was to take his precious angel away from him. He demanded your father accept Lucius’ original challenge or he would have him put to death either way.

You barely made it to your chambers before a firm grasp on your upper arm was spinning you around in a flash. Your gaze met the fuming orbs of your lover, his pupils completely overtaken by the rage he felt towards your father and his inconsiderate act of defiance.

“And where do you think you’re running off to, Angel? You’re going to miss such an entertaining battle between your disgrace of a father and that useless peasant Lucius.” His grin was sickening and you’d be fibbing if you denied the fact that it had your cunt flooding with arousal.

“I couldn’t stand to look at my father any longer after he pulled that stunt.” You scoffed, your hands resting on the breastplate of Geta’s gold plated armor. “Who the fuck does he think he is? What makes him think I would want to marry Lucius of all people? If only he knew my heart belongs to you, my perfect Emperor.”

“Oh he does now, my love. Everyone does. I had no choice but to reveal our long kept secret because there was absolutely no way I was giving you away to that peasant. You’re mine, Angel, and no one will ever take you away from me.” Geta’s arms wrapped firmly around your waist now, pressing your hips flush against him as he gazed down at you.

“I’m yours, Geta.” You promised, bringing one of your hands up from where it rested on his chest plate and reaching to cup his cheek, your thumb tracing along his cheekbone before you were leaning up to kiss him deeply.

Geta immediately kissed you harder, more possessively, one arm wrapping tighter around you while his other hand moved to grasp at your ass through your royal robe and gown. “How about we show all of Rome who the fuck you belong to.” He rasped into the space between your mouths, pulling a low moan from your throat as he gave your ass a squeeze. “We’ll force your father to watch as I desecrate his poor daughter’s precious little cunt.”

You whimpered at that, knowing that meant Geta was going to ruthlessly fuck you with zero remorse. Not that you minded, you absolutely loved it when he fucked you as though you were nothing but a fuck toy. You knew that he loved you and cared about you, you were truly the only other thing in this world aside from power that meant anything to him, sometimes he just couldn’t help but to take his sadistic tendencies out on you. It’s a good thing you were able to handle it.

“Please,” you whispered against his lips, your tongue tracing along his bottom one. “I want them all to see that I’m yours and yours alone.”

“That’s my good Angel.” Geta gave your ass a smack before he was lifting you up to carry you into his own chambers, making sure the doors were secured before making his way onto his balcony where he set you back down. The balcony overlooked the entire Colosseum, so it was the perfect place to fuck you for all to see without anyone getting a glimpse of your goods. They were for his eyes only. “Take off your fucking garments.”

You moaned at his demand, immediately removing every single article of clothing that adorned your breathtaking body and tossing them to the ground without a care of whether they got dirty or not. Geta removed his white and gold embellished robe before laying it across the edge of the balcony rail, wanting to make sure you had some sort of padding while he bent you over it to fuck you.

Next to go was his gold-plated armor, carelessly tossing it atop your pile of clothes before he was working at freeing his aching cock from beneath his tunic. “Bend over the railing, Angel.” He commanded, giving his thick veiny cock a few strokes while he positioned himself behind where you obediently bent over for him, his cock twitching in his grasp over the fact that you were completely bare naked compared to him.

“EYES UP HERE, ROME!” Geta bellowed out towards the Colosseum crowd, all eyes suddenly shifting towards where the two of you were present on his expansive balcony. “YOU’RE ALL TO WATCH AS I CLAIM MY FUTURE BRIDE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU! ANYONE WHO DOESN’T FOLLOW THAT ORDER WILL BE PUT TO DEATH BY MY ROYAL GUARDS!”

Your father’s blood was boiling seeing you in such a vulnerable position, but he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it because Geta wouldn’t hesitate to have him killed. He thought that maybe Geta forced you to be with him and put into this situation, but little did your father know, you wanted this and were in on the whole thing.

“Hold tight, Angel.” Geta murmured in your ear, waiting until your hands were gripping around the stone rail of his balcony before forcing his cock inside you in one hard thrust forward, punching the breath right out of you. “YOU SEE, ROME, THIS WOMAN IS MINE. SHE’S BEEN MINE FOR NEARLY A YEAR AND NO ONE IS GOING TO TAKE HER FROM ME!”

You screamed out as his pace started out with zero remorse just as you anticipated, your head thrown back and eyes rolled towards the back of your skull while you took every harsh nudge of his cock against your sweet spots. Tears sprang from your eyes when he tightly fisted his fingers through your hair and forced your head back so he could gaze upon your features as he fucked you, a twisted grin stretching across his lips.

“OH, IF ONLY YOU COULD SEE HOW BREATHTAKING HER FACE LOOKS WHILE SHE TAKES MY COCK, GENERAL ACACIUS! CAN YOU HEAR HOW SHE SCREAMS FOR ME? ONLY FOR ME?” Geta sneered as his gaze flicked towards your father, staring directly at him while he abused your cunt just the way you liked it. His grip on your hip was bruising while the one in your hair continued pulling tears from your eyes, knowing by your pleasured noises and the occasional clench around his cock that you were enjoying the pain.

“I’m gonna cum.” You moaned lewdly as you gave another clench around him, a guttural moan erupting from Geta’s throat in response.

“Not until I breed you, Angel, until you’re so full of my cum that you’re destined to give me an heir.” Geta rasped into your ear as he continued pounding away inside your soaked cunt, his cock and balls drenched from how much you were dripping for him. He grinned when his mention of breeding you made you clench even tighter around him, his hand releasing your hair so he could clasp it around your throat. “You like the sound of that, huh?”

“Breed me! I’ll give you all the heirs you want! I’ll be your good little Empress!” You squealed as you gazed back at him through heavily lidded eyes, hiking one of your legs up onto the balcony railing so that he had a better angle. You screamed even louder as the new angle had his cock slamming against your cervix with every forward thrust, knowing there was no way you were going to be able to last for much longer. “Breed me! Breed me! Please, my love, breed me!”

“Gods!” Geta roared as he used both hands to get an extra bruising grip on your waist while pounding away inside you, tossing his head back when he felt his knot snap and spilling thick, sticky loads of his cum into your womb.

He didn’t let up on his thrusts, not stopping until he came two more times before finally letting you cum for him, your orgasm so overpowering from how much he’d edged you before his fingers finally gave your touch starved bundle of nerves what they needed, that he had to wrap his arms around you to prevent you from falling when your one knee keeping you upright buckled beneath you.

He held you in his arms after he’d pulled out of you until you finally came down from your high, dropping your leg down from where you had propped it on the railing so you could spin around to grab his face and pull him into a starved kiss, not paying any mind to the thousands of eyes still watching the two of you. “I love you, Geta. You really want to make me your wife?”

“Angel, I wanted to make you my wife the moment I first laid eyes on you. You have no idea how ecstatic I was when I realized you want me just as much as I want you.” His own hands reached to cup your face, his thumbs gentle as they brushed against your cheeks, contrast to how he just fucked you in front of the entirety of Rome. “I love you, my sweet Angel, and I’ll love you until my dying breath.”

You kissed him again, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pressed yourself against him. “Take me inside your chambers to breed me some more? And leave the balcony doors open so everyone can hear as you fuck their future Empress some more.”

“That’s my girl.” Geta groaned, lifting you up to carry you back inside and lay you down onto his bed where he fucked several more loads of his cum inside you, this time letting you cum right along with him.

All of Rome now knew that General Acacius’ daughter was off limits, which you were quite thankful for because you hated the unwanted attention from other men throughout the Roman Empire. None of them compared to Emperor Geta, you preferred his level of sadist over any other personality trait in the world. He may have been one evil man, but he had a soft spot for you and you only and that itself made being with him worth it.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 🩷

Fic tag list: @jasminelafleur @nailbatanddungeon

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

character zhang liao 张辽 (aka zhang wenyuan张文远，wenyuan is his courtesy name) from code: kite/ashes of the kingdom代号鸢 （coser cr 津岛梦海 female coser, doll cr 哑铃哑铃哑铃）

[punishedlamb]

won’t be seen with him cause that’s embarrassing. ₊˚

— mondays , ethel cain & chloe hotline

[nonndrawz]

Happy Father's Day to Kratos 🫶

[glassrooibos]

Look I can’t draw stoats ok IM SORRY OK I still love them

[littlemarianah]

Willow is the older sister and often sees things her brother doesn't.

Rye asks uncomfortable questions, which they parents seem to hesitate to answer. He always asks for help with his homework and doesn't seem to understand why when it comes to the history of Panem his father's face seems to darken. In fact, he doesn't even notice his father's voice crack as he reads the text in the book. But Peeta never refuses to help.

The subject of War always leads to The Games. Either its beginning or its end. And the games always lead to star-crossed lovers and the arrow that felled an entire arena. And worst of all, this goes back to the bombs that rained on the capital. But Rye never seems to connect this to the scars marked on his parents' bodies.

"Don't worry, Daddy. I'll help him." she says, sitting next to her brother at study time.

"Well, I can..." Peeta tries to say.

"No, you can leave it to me. You know, I was in fourth grade just two years ago so it's all still fresh in my head."

The boy tries to protest, but his older sister's incisive look made him shrink in his seat. She can be persuasive when she wants to.

When the two are finally alone in the kitchen, with their books spread out on the table, Willow whispers to Rye. "Stop asking Dad for help about this, okay?"

"this what?"

"story of Panem."

"Why?” The boy asks innocently and the girl snorts angrily.

No, she never asked for help with these things. The history book seemed to bother her mother so much that she didn't even take it out of her backpack. She heard Peeta and Katniss whispering through the walls, tense and tearful. Willow preferred to keep everything to herself. The doubts and questions, most of them were already answered anyway. With her mother's howls in the middle of the night, with her father's nervous attacks.

Willow opens the story book, leafs through it until she finds a picture. A girl. Impenetrable gaze, braid hanging down her neck, a bow in her hands. She looks at her brother, hoping that will make him understand.

"What?" he shrugs

"It's mama, silly."

"Mama?" The boy leans over the book and looks carefully. It doesn't look like his mother, It doesn't have her kind eyes, nor her sweet smile, and there are no scars whatsoever. The way he always recognized his mother, the funny designs on her skin, marks. But he recognizes one thing , the gray eyes that he sees in the mirror. "oh, it's mama."

"Of course it is, what are you doing in your story class?"

He shrugs again but the answer is sleeping.

"They don't like to talk about it." the girl says. "If you have any questions, ask me."

"Is it about The Hunger Games?" he now whispers, because even though he is a little naive, he can feel the weight of those words.

"Rye, try to understand something." she says, using her big sister tone. "Everything is about The Hunger Games."

Rye seems to understand. Because sometimes at night, he wakes up from a cruel nightmare and runs to his mother's bed. Next summer he turns 11 and the older kids at school keep saying that's the age they take you. And he knows his parents went, and so did Uncle Haymitch.

Their mom enters the kitchen and the photo of her young is covered by Willow with a heavy math book. But Katniss has eagle eyes and the Willows know that. "What is it?" Katniss asks.

"Homework." Willow say.

Katniss takes the history book from the table and admires her photo with an indecipherable expression. "And why were you hiding it?"

The girl doesn't know how to respond.

"Willow said not to bother you with it." the boy says.

Damn mama's boy, Willow thinks to herself. Her face burns red. "That's not what I said!" Willow directs her gaze to Karniss, her mother's bright eyes making her shiver. "I just... It's just fourth-grade nonsense. So I can help... He doesn't need to... talk to you about it. I already know everything. It's just... I did not want.."

Katniss leaves the history book on the table, leans over Willow and gives her a small kiss on the forehead. The girl is silent. "The two of you are going to put on your boots and we're going to go for a walk." Katniss says.

The boy is happy to be taken away from his homework early, but Willow seems apprehensive. On that rainy spring afternoon they cross the muddy road, past the wreckage of abandoned buildings and go to the meadow. The flowerbed, normally green, is gray today, due to the rain and fog. Katniss sits with them on a fallen log. And it begins.

First she tells them about a miner. With a beautiful voice and a huge heart. A great father and a great husband. Tell them how he was buried alive. And even though they both already knew this story this time it seems more detailed and harder to hear. Then Katniss tells them about a boy with a loaf of bread and a hungry girl, tells them about a streak of bad luck, tells them about an arena of blood, tells them about poisoned berries.

Rye is wide-eyed, clutching his mother's arms.

Katniss tells them about a revolution, about a war, about a mockingjay. Then about the bodies in the meadow, about his grandparents and his uncles who were gone, about their late Aunt Prim. And this is another one of the stories that they knew very well, but to be told like this without whispered words, without secrets, without anything beyond reality. It's new. Willow then also snuggles into her mother's arms, a bit tearful. Listening to Katniss tell about a girl with black hair and blue eyes and a boy with blond hair and gray eyes.

Then they go home, humming an old song.

If you want more content about toast babies Read my fanfic about them - Deep in the Meadow

[phoward89]

Platonic!Crassus Snow, Dark!Crassus Snow, Newborn!Daughter!Reader

Based on this ask.

General Crassus Snow was a cold, stern, strict, no nonsense military man. He made a career out of the military, just like his father and his father before him. His younger brother also chose the military path.

Cadmus had married right after graduating the Academy, had a baby, and then signed up for the Peacekeepers only to be stationed in 12, where the Snow family patriarch Commander Xanthos Snow oversaw the Peacekeepers of the coalmine district. One of Crassus' best friends, Javani Halvir, was serving as an officer in 12 underneath the command of Xanthos Snow- so of course he agreed to keep an eye out on his friend's younger brother while said friend attended the University to study Military Strategies.

Once Crassus had graduated University with a degree in Military Strategies (thanks to stealing his friend Casca Highbottom’s paper of drunken and horrendous ideas for a punishment so dire for one's enemies that those enemies would never rise up against then again) he enlisted into the Peacekeepers as an officer, did a couple months of officer's training, and was sent to PK Base-D12 to serve under his father; alongside his brother and his buddy.

In time Xanthos retired and went back to his Corso penthouse in the Capitol, causing Crassus to become the new Commander. And while visiting his family during leave he had a very fast courtship with a young woman that he was introduced to by his former friend Casca before he joined the military. And of course, that courtship resulted in a marriage and the birth of an heir.

A male heir named Coriolanus.

Shortly after Coriolanus' birth Xanthos Snow died. Sadly, Crassus was unable to get time off to attend the funeral, but he sent his buddy Colonel Javani Halvir and his family in his stead.

Crassus ran the Peacekeepers in District 12 for 5 years until the districts rebelled and war broke out. A war that he was forced to fight in. But he had studied Military Strategies just for the occasion such as a war. A general must be prepared and ready.

The rebels bombed the Capitol, hoping to weaken the city. Sadly, that air strike resulted in Demeter Snow, the young, beautiful, vapid wife of Crassus to go into unexpected and premature labor. With no help, since a doctor was unable to make it due to the bombs, the family cook and Grandma’am (Crassus' mother) had to help her deliver the baby.

Despite being weeks early and small, the baby survived her birth. Tragically, Demeter didn't. She hemorrhaged and died.

Her death shook up the entire Snow family. Grandma'am had already lost one daughter-in-law and now she lost another. And poor Coriolanus lost his mother while Trigris Snow lost her Auntie, who was like a mother to her.

Grandma'am knew she had to call up her son and tell him the news. News she knew would upset him, considering he had just lost his younger brother weeks earlier in a small skirmish against the rebels near the mines. Cadmus was there, along with a few other men, to ensure rebels wouldn't uprise and take over the mine. But sadly the rebels attacked and slaughtered the handful of peacekeepers tasked with safeguarding the mine.

After receiving the call from his mother, Crassus put his Colonel in charge and took an emergency leave to Capitol City, Panem to attend his wife's funeral and check up on his only living family.

“Crassus, come see your daughter.” Grandma'am told her son after treating him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek once he entered the penthouse.

Crassus wasn't too happy about having a second child. He already had his heir so he didn't see the news for another child.

And especially a girl.

Daughter's weren't as valuable as sons in society, so in his mind the newborn baby was useless. A beast of burden even.

“I don't need to see her, mother.” Crassus coldly bite out while making his way to his study.He was in town for the funeral and had to make quick arrangements for it so we he knew his mother hadn't done that yet.

All Grandma'am did was have the coroner take Demeter's lifeless body to the funeral home, but didn't set the funeral arrangements in motion. She told the mortician that her son would handle it when he got to town.

His mother's lucky that he was able to entrust the base and the troops in Javani's hands otherwise she'd be planning a funeral or enlisting the help of the neighbor Pluribus to do it.

“You need to see your daughter that Demeter died giving you before you make calls and arrangements for her.” Grandma'am lectured her son in a firm motherly way while following right behind him as he strolled down the hall towards his personal office.

“That baby's not going anywhere, she'll still be in her crib when I'm done.”

“Crassus, Demeter would want you to see that precious baby girl of yours before calling the funeral parlor on her account.”

“Mother…” Crassus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off his growing frustrations. He couldn't tell his mother that he didn't care about his newborn daughter, not so soon after his wife's death; it would just send her into a tailspin.

Coming up to her son's side and giving him a motherly smack on his arm, the old woman dressed in her fineries seriously told her son, “Crassus Xanthos Snow, you're going into the nursery and you're going to hold your daughter even if I have to drag you by the ear to do it.”

“Mother, you're too short to be dragging me by the ears.” Crassus dryly chuckles. But he knows his mother's not amused by the way she cuts her eyes at him. At any minute she'll start lecturing him, which is something he wants to avoid. So, with a heavy sigh, the general relents. “Fine, let's go to the nursery.”

Grandma'am opened the door to the nursery, which was also her granddaughter Tigris' room. The young girl offered to share her room with her newborn baby cousin once the topic of where the crib should be placed came up. The kind hearted girl was so selfish in doing that.

Crassus walked by his mother and into the room, only for Grandma'am to join him. He spotted the crib in the corner right away. In fact, it was the same old wooden crib that was used for his son Coriolanus- hell for him and his late younger brother too.

The side of the room the mahogany crib was at had a couple of floral pictures hanging on the wall for a girlie decor. On the other side of the room was his niece's twin bed, her desk, her notebook, and various fashion doodles displayed on the wall.

Oh, how the decor in the room seemed to be split right down the middle, just like a rock.

“Crassus, come.” His mother told him, linking her arm in his and dragging him over to the sleeping newborn.

Crassus looked down at his newborn daughter and immediately realized that she was too small due to coming early. That his daughter would need to put weight on and fast if were to survive the winter. He didn't say a word, just bent down to pick up his daughter.

He honestly didn't want to hold her, but did because his mother was at his side and he didn't want to hear her lecture him.

Crassus cradled his newborn in his arms, only for the baby to blink open her eyes and look up at him.

Crassus was melted by the innocent look on his daughters eyes.

In your eyes.

Yes, you're the daughter of the ruthless, cold hearted, stern, and hateful General Crassus Snow. A man that locked his heart behind a frozen wall of ice. One that a single look from you melted.

The innocence in your eyes reminded him of a girl he once loved. And he vowed to be a good father to you.

But he didn't vow to be a good father to your older brother, Coriolanus. In fact, Crassus felt that his son was a weakling that needed to toughen up. But in your case, Crassus wanted to protect you from the world because all the world’s an arena and not everyone in it has good intentions.

Crassus never thought he wanted a second child let alone a daughter, but just one look from you and your father was vowing to protect you with his life.

Y/N Snow, the second child of Crassus and Demeter Snow; the darling miracle baby that brings joy amongst the ruins of death.

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