#Nam's daughter

[enambris]

"You're a fuckboy, but you're not my fuckboy."

[wusopiejung25]

Nam Seon ho and his stupidly beautiful face.

[penrose-quinn]

I'm gonna be hated on for this but I love Kyung-ja, despite everything. She's the most complex (and entertaining) character of this show for me. She wasn't a very good mother, but she did try to be there for him in her own way. She did love her son, but her revenge seemed more like it was for her than him. She's giving me the kind of mother that sees her child as an extension of herself, even though he didn't turn out like what she wanted him to be. She didn't want to see all the wrong in her son because she didn't want to see all the wrong in herself. Oh-nam was a bleak reflection of her failures. It was all laid out for her when she saw his apartment, the dead body, and even being aware but in denial of Mo-mi's sexual assault in her trial on the news. She refused to see the truth like how she refused to see her son's trauma, seeing him as weak. But because of this, she also sees him as something that needs to be protected because he's the only thing that's left in her life, the one good thing that kept her going. There's so much resentment in her but so much grief too so where does she place all of that but to the woman who killed him?

Also she's really funny and crazy af. I'm scared of her lol.

[samireads]

Some more Korean reads 🇰🇷📚

난 요즘 많이 좋아 😌

[anemoiawithatouchofobsession]

Hoo-nam to Seon-ja ("Sons And Daughters"), and Sung-shil to Ji-eun ("What Is Love?") :

"I was raised in this house. What makes you think you will be treated different than me just because you married my brother? You will end up like me in no time. Fearful, silenced, beaten down, your confidence tread upon, your womanhood thrown in the dirt. Why are you doing this to yourself? Do you know how much I hurt? Why do you think I am the way I am?"

[fewwordsmanyriddles]

[lenteur]

random thoughts about strong girl nam soon, episode three

(read more because i always get carried away lol and this post might contain spoilers)

the look of realization on nam soon's father's face when he recognizes his daughter. You can see him being torn. He knows she's his daughter, call it paternal instinct but at the same time, it's like he doesn't know how to approach her / doesn't want to bother her further. You can clearly see the look of disappointment on his face when she has to go. Disappointment because he doesn't know if he'll ever meet her again. A missed opportunity. A second kidnapping happened, at least in his mind. She's so close but then she's gone.

He ran after her but it was already too late

nam soon is so aloof most of the time that it's funny. She's adjusting to korea from a "foreigner's perspective" there's this décalage between her and the rest of the population and it creates a lot of hilarious situations (ex: her walking off while singing a tune)

she's just so straightforward and unpredictable sometimes and that's why i like her

i really like that they're giving all women in the family their own story and how each one is infamous for something totally different.

Go grandma go!! you show them how strong you are

the slomo in the fight scene = thank you for that

how she slapped him and he went k.o i just full on laughed

the do bong soon x ahn min hyuk scene was a little treat for everyone :)

the nam in scenes don't sit right with me. A lot of fatphobia and making fun of him for eating too much. It's a pity because the show could've used his eating disorder in another way. Talking about it seriously and seeing his journey on weight loss or feeling good in his body and mind. Instead they chose to make fun of him for eating a lot. I'm disappointed

oh so the drug made by doogo caused damage on both ms park gwang ja and the passenger on the plane. The plot thickens.

You can see hwang geum ju has a lot of empathy for others because she believes if she has empathy, people will be kind to nam soon. So it's not natural empathy for others, it's more of a strategy to reach her goal of finding her daughter alive.

In general, her statement is true because if you're kind to others they'll be more likely to be kind to other people as well. But, as shown in the drama, she has an ulterior motive for her empathy/kindness. When she'll find nam soon, i wonder if that empathy will still be in her or not.

Kang hee sik kept his promise. Nam soon was lucky that the first person she meets when landing in korea is a police officer. That way he could get help from his colleagues to find nam soon's mom.

Seeing hwang geum ju cry and release all the worry and fear she had for 20 years, you can see how her reaction is not the same as the one she had with hwa ja. She's very emotional when it comes to her daughter and that's a normal reaction.

Very interesting how the mother corrected herself when calling the dad (from nam in's dad to nam soon's dad). She's held this resentment towards him for so long, but now that nam soon is back, she shares this info with the father and she acknowledges he is indeed her father. It's like nam soon brought them back together.

Geum ju and nam soon finally found each other but they're leaving us on a cliffhanger. That's not fair!

Overall a great episode. I admit i was impatient to see the mother-daughter reunion but I'm glad they developed the villains' arcs a little. Things are progressing and that's all i could ask for.

I'll rate this a 8.5/10

[yasmini24]

i really think those two police officers who accused haeng-seon of being abusive were actors hired by dong-hui

[kdramacrybaby]

Though I hate to see her cry, I love that they did this scene with her mom. For most of the drama Dong-eun is shown as monotone and almost emotionless because she is so focused on revenge, but underneath it all she’s still just a scared girl with deep trauma.

They have done previous scenes where they’ve shown how nervous she does sometimes get (like throwing up that one time after facing a bully).

But seeing her heart just absolute break after her already trash mother shows her true colors again… it really showed she still had some tiny bit of love and hope that maybe, just maybe, her mom would side with her this time. But she didn’t.

And then she goes home where Yeo-jeong let’s her have her space but still quietly walks around so she still knows he’s there if she ever needs him 😭 I cryyy

[smollandkindaannoyed]

Just started The Glory today and I went into it expecting a supsensful revenge drama (which I am getting and loving) but instead I am getting this beautiful friendship story between Dong-Eun and Hyun-Nam and if anything happens to either of those or they somehow get split up I will cry and throw something and burn everything to the ground

[scarlettundrhett]

Kinn just wants to eat something. But definitely not broccoli.

Sometimes you just know that things can only get worse from now on. Exactly. It's getting worse. The day still has a lot in store for Kinn.

Things take a turn when Porsche casually mentions that Nam has a new boyfriend, Jay, who’s coming over. Kinn, already a little suspicious about Porsche’s bizarre broccoli obsession, is further annoyed when Porsche leaves him with the dreaded task of meeting the new boyfriend alone. Kinn’s day is already spiralling, and he hasn’t even faced Jay yet.

How is Kinn supposed to win this week’s Best Dad competition like this?

A whisky would really hit the spot right now.

I dedicate this story to all the young guys who walk into their girlfriend's house for the first time and are just as nervous as the parents they are meeting for the first time.

[aft3rhrs]

— pastel pink ღ

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!father au

warnings: dead dove, yandere, pseudo incest, cheating, age gap (the reader is always 18+!), corruption, porn, cnc themes, mentions of masturbation, choking, dub con, fingering, daddy kink, rough sex, humiliation, praise, dirty talk, allusions to sadism & masochism, multiple orgasms, use of triggering words in an erotic and degrading manner* (listed under the cut), creampie, aftercare

*use of the words “rape”, “abuse”.

masterlist

Namjoon used to think that you didn't quite understand the consequences of playing with fire. It was not surprising, after all, considering your young age. You were but an inexperienced cub compared to the wolf that raised you, not yet having grasped the unbridled nature of all things wild.

Sooner or later, though, inching too close to the flames was bound to get you burned. Somewhere in the darkest depths of his heart, Namjoon craved to inflict the pain of the heat on you, mark his territory with a swirl of scars.

Wasn't every father's daughter his most precious gift? Pretty like a doll, with a heart that had flowers and thorns tangling through it. A bricked, bleeding house that welcomed no intruders. He wanted nothing more than to keep it safe.

It was those protective instincts that had always kept him in check, tamed, in constant agony over something he could never have.

Until tonight.

Until it turned out your doe eyes and the pastel pink of your bedroom were misleading lies; and you yearned for the burn of the fire, simply too afraid to dive into its scorching depths.

And what was his duty if not to help you experience life, fulfill all your soul's desires? With immense love and a guiding, fatherly hand, now stuck in between your soft thighs.

"Is this what you like?"

The hoarse whisper made you clench. You whimpered in response, your eyes growing warm.

"No."

You knew it was pointless to lie; he could feel you soaking his fingers, pulsing around their thick girth. But it was too much handle, and the filthy video playing on the screen made you want to shrink.

"Yeah," Namjoon coaxed, breathing into your ear. "You like watching old men fuck their daughters? Like watching them abuse their good little girls?"

Relentless, he pumped the digits in and out of your poor cunt, and the tears overflowed, a dangerous combination of the shame and the orgasm rippling through you. From deep inside your tummy, all the way through your spine, prompting your thighs to tremble on top of his.

What a stupid mistake; to lie down and let your eyes flutter closed right after coming. You weren't even sure when you drifted off, your laptop barely shut, still resting by your side. Namjoon came into your bedroom to check on you, tuck you in and turn off the light, as he'd done a hundred of times before.

The website on the screen caught his eye.

Dreams were safe; reality was different. No one was ever supposed to see this side of you. Especially not the man whose name was stamped all over the walls of the private, forbidden rooms that took up the space in your head. Not the man you looked up to, respectable and smart, all warmth and dimpled smiles, with such deep, kind eyes behind his pristine glasses.

Not Namjoon.

"Fuck," he cursed softly, one arm curled around your waist, grounding you. "That's it..."

Hips stilling, you attempted to catch your breath. Dizziness washed over you. You've never felt this good before; and perhaps a part of the reason why was that you were doing something very bad. The thought of your mother coming home still lingered at the back of your mind — no longer an imminent threat, the bullet dissolving in the haze of the bliss, though its existing chill persisted.

This would be quite a sight for the poor woman to witness; her husband's fingers buried deep in her only daughter's cunt, legs spread wide open on his lap. The lewd porn playing on your laptop only served as the final nail in the coffin.

You winced as Namjoon slipped out of you gently, disoriented. Your legs felt like jelly, but his hold on you was secure, your only safety net.

He stood up, lifting you with him. He didn't try to lead you back to your bed, instead placing a large palm on the small of your back and pushing forward.

You let your cheek rest on the cold surface of the desk, trying to ignore the dirty sounds of sex coming from the screen. Maybe it was the emotions muddling your brain, but you couldn't move, helpless as an animal with their leg caught in a trap.

In spite of the carelessness on your part, you've never imagined Namjoon reacting this way. You'd thought he would have been disgusted, concerned — embarrassed at the very least — and the topic would never be brought up.

Yet here he was, unzipping his pants, about to fuck you on the same desk you occupied to complete your homework every night. In the same room that used to be adorned in plushies and fairy lights, saturated with all of your innocence.

It was different than any taboo feeling or thought you might have entertained in secret; the forbidden fruit no longer a fantasy, but a sin weighing down on the palm of your hand, ripe for the tasting. Its only price was being cast out.

Namjoon caressed your ass, the foreign sensation causing more slick to dribble down the apex of your thighs.

"Such a good slut," he breathed.

The word whipped through you, leaving your skin stinging and lungs emptied of air. He hasn't addressed you with anything but respect before; in fact, you didn't think you've ever heard him use such vulgar language.

You clenched, as though the degradation chipped away at your brain, dumbed it down to a blissful void.

"No," you whined out in protest; of what, you weren't sure anymore.

You felt his hand lock around your wrists.

"Yeah, you are," he cooed. "You're my little toy, and toys get played with. I may be too old for that..." he slid your underwear down your thighs, "but you're not, are you, baby?"

A shiver ran through you, arousal mingling with a tinge of fear the moment he leaned over you, his chest resting firm against your back.

"Don't you want daddy to play with you?" He whispered, flooding your nape with goosebumps. "Seems to me that you do."

This wasn't the Namjoon you've grown to know; this was something different, sinful and ravenous. The rattle of the cage was nothing compared to it being set loose, claiming ownership over you, corrupting and consuming.

But you were wetter than ever, slick flowing like honey and coating the heated, swollen tip of his cock as soon as it pressed against you.

Namjoon was faring no better; his collar open and tie loosened, shirt wrinkled with the memory of your fingers grasping at it. All of his self restraint was gone, the cracked lock broken and the dented cage empty.

You did that.

He had a wife, a job, a good reputation. He worked hard to achieve success, however, the path laid out before him has always looked rather bleak without you in the picture.

And any doubts that troubled him in the past went up in the flames the moment he peeked at your laptop. Of course it was him you longed for, his cock you needed in your little pussy. You were daddy's perfect little girl, all too aware of your purpose. To be ruined and loved and owned by him.

His hand encased your neck, a grip that instantly made your head tingle. He pulled you up, letting you sink into his chest. His breath tickled your ear, and the girthy cockhead pushed against your slit once more, leaking.

"Why are you shaking, baby?" he inquired, sliding his free hand up your stomach. Palm wide open, only to close around your breast and squeeze. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

No. Yes? No. It was so wrong. You shook your head, like that would change anything; turn back time, conceal the truth, get you out of trouble.

Namjoon chuckled.

"It is," he husked, plush lips brushing against the shell of your ear. He moved his hips, rubbing himself against your nub teasingly. "You wanted daddy's cock, just like all these dirty girls on screen."

He eased his hold on your throat, but his hand remained around it; a reminder that he was in control.

Your head was swimming as more oxygen rushed in, but it made almost no difference. His words, his touch, they had a hold on you too, squeezing your lungs, making your clit throb beneath his touch.

"Wanted to be mine..." his tone mellowed out to silk, seductive and light. "Wanted to be my pretty, little angel, and take it behind mummy's back, hm?"

Eyes teary and barely open, you gasped.

"Even better if I just make you take it, right? You won't have to feel so guilty, and you can still slobber and cream all over it."

Your knees were close to giving out, wetness gushing obscenely onto his thick length. As if he could sense it, Namjoon tightened his arm around you, lifting a hand to wipe away the tears that fell.

"Oh sweetheart," he shushed, "see? Daddy knows what you need. Your eyes are wet, but your pussy is wetter. Bet it's tight, too. Tighter than your mother's."

He palmed his cock, at last positioning it back at your small entrance.

"Not that I ever wanted hers anyway."

It seemed your soul left your body the moment he sank in, and he swallowed all of it with his kiss. Any remnants of your thoughts, integrity or coherence; all swiped away with the lick of his tongue and the delicious stretch that left your cunt clenching and insides churning.

The noise he let out sent a thrill through you. He broke the kiss, broke you, his gleaming eyes hooded and adoring, staring deep into yours. Time seemed to fizzle out of existence.

Then he thrusted.

"Fucking whore."

A croaky whisper, followed by a moan you barely recognized as your own.

"I tried to stay away, but my baby just had to be a fucking whore. Couldn't help wanting daddy to rape her."

You shuddered, breath caught in your throat and hand clutching his bicep.

There was no going back, and at this point, it didn't matter. At this point, exposed and full of him, you ached for more; and like a good dad, Namjoon was there to cater to your needs.

He pulled out, only to slide back inside the velvety heat, pleasure bursting and simmering through. No more teasing; just shivers, and long, deep strokes that made his balls slap against your skin.

His breath fanned your neck, unsteady, edged with soft groans. He barely fit inside you, but your pussy took him so well, as though it was always meant to be his.

The way he fucked you drowned out whatever porn was still playing on your laptop, long forgotten, nothing compared to the depravity happening right in front of it. He pounded into you harder, keeping a steady pace. The desk began to thud, repeatedly hitting the wall behind it.

"Like that?" He mumbled into your cheek, his thumb lazily rubbing your stiff nipple. "Right there?"

He required no verbal answer. Not when you were so soft and pliant in his arms, the rush taking over. Still, he enjoyed the way you squirmed at the questions, eyes closed and luscious lips wide open, making the most heavenly little sounds.

He wasn't going to last; there was no time to waste, besides, the simple fact that your warm, wet hole was taking his cock — raw — was enough to push him close to the edge.

Desperate, he took a hold of your jaw and turned your face towards him. His lips were an inch away from yours, the intimacy of it tender and aching, like a bruise.

"Say, 'thank you, daddy,'" he murmured. '"Thank you for fucking my tight, little cunt.'"

You responded with a mewl, your muscles tensing along with the knot in your tummy.

"Gonna—"

Namjoon groaned. Too out of breath to finish the sentence, too fucked out, you let yourself go limp as he pummeled into you.

"Come?" He suggested, wanting to laugh at how quickly you nodded, but your walls were getting so tight only a moan came out. "Fuck. Good girl, making daddy so proud." His forehead touched yours, as if he could get any closer. "You deserve a reward."

The moment you clamped down on him, he muffled the cry that broke through with his lips, crashing them into yours. He kissed you hungrily, tongue and teeth, reaching the peak of his limit as your cunt quivered, effortlessly massaging his cock with the convulsions. He couldn't resist its pull sucking him in, trapping him in place to do what it was made for.

He groaned loudly, letting his seed spill as deep as it would go, letting you see stars right there on the ceiling; like the glowing stickers he used to put up there for you, just an old father and daughter tradition. Your eyes rolled back, and it had him gritting his teeth, grinding into you until you couldn't stand, and his own legs barely kept him up anymore.

He panted softly, gulping as you melted into him, both of his arms hugging your waist. Slowly, the heat was receding, and in its stead serenity crept in.

It was quiet when he washed you up, his hands gentle, wiping the mess in between your thighs and the sweat off your brow. Dressed in a clean shirt and underwear, you climbed under your blanket. Beyond sleepy and sated, your heart still felt heavy.

The edge of the mattress dipped as Namjoon sat down beside you, extending his arm to cup your cheek. Only then did he meet your eyes.

"I love you."

He's said it to you before, but it felt different now. It was different. And it made him hesitate, reduced his voice to a whisper.

"You're the best thing... that's ever happened to me. That's never gonna change. You know that, right?"

You nodded, wondering how in such a messed up situation a few words could feel so comforting. Perhaps it was because they were coming from him. Would that always be enough? Will it feel the same when you wake up in the morning?

Namjoon bent down to press a lingering kiss onto your temple, coaxing your eyes to shut.

"Don't worry about anything, okay? Just trust me, baby. And get some rest."

You relaxed, acknowledging the request with a small sigh. He watched you fall asleep, stroking your hair, trying not to dwell on how much he wished he could stay. At least he'd be able to get into bed before his wife came home.

In the darkness of his bedroom, he settled into the cool sheets, his glasses set aside and clothes neatly folded. He heard the front door unlock, the keys jiggling, and closed his eyes.

Time to sleep.

Time for a change of plans was awaiting him tomorrow.

taglist 💌: @baalsgurl1913 @httpsbts @hoseokshobagi @pynkgothicka @art-3-miss @sweetempathprunetree @blueberryarchive @messyjk @themochiverse @minyoongiboongi @chimmisbae @crisle19 @bangtans-momma @get-that-brain-working @babycandy111 @mother2monsters @whipwhoops @svnbangtansworld @ane102 @stellalovesstarss @jksteponme @httpjeonlicious @iceprincessviviane

[littlemissmiller]

Bird in a Cage

Part 1: To Me, You Are Divine

Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: a young president snow decided to kidnap you and take you as his prisoner in his palace. he needs a First Lady, and you could be the one…

Warning: 21+ (drinking) eventual smut, non-con, mentions of drugging (reader gets drugged by coryo), toxic themes, possession, stalking, kidnapping

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: hi…still working on Summer Highs and The Shopkeepers Daughter part 2 but in typical ADHD fashion, they have been left still yet to be finished. in the meantime (also in typical ADHD fashion) i got sooooo caught up in this story that i kinda wrote it and can’t seem to stop. The words are just flowing outta me. anyways i need to get a pedro fic out (which i have those started too!) ok so enjoy this y’all it’s so fucking dark 🤍 also…we already almost at 300 followers so I would appreciate the follow (and who doesn’t like a nice round number)

Series Masterlist

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

The vastness of the palace made you feel even more alone than you already did. Being trapped in this room all day and night was starting to become unsettling. It is only a few days and still, you haven’t even made contact with the man who is holding you in his possession. Coriolanus Snow, the young president, had taken you as his own. Little did you know that you are just merely a part of his collection. The collection of girls he had taken home, held captive, then released when he wanted a new one. And to keep these women quiet, money and the veiled threats of losing your life or a loved ones. He was no stranger to keeping his promises. So when he saw you at The Gamemakers Gala, you became his prey. He had taken you home to the palace and made you his.

You were sure it was only two days, but still waking up groggy, confused, and unsure of your location can make time feel like a burden. But a maid had told you two days ago, so you went with it. Apparently he has every intention of seeing you, but based on the light outside the window, evening is setting in, so you’re not sure. You had no more tears left to cry as you lay and waited for dinner. You’re not sure how much longer it is, but eventually someone knocks on your door. You pop up, and a maid enters the room. She rolls in a mahogany tray table with fresh polished silverware, and a plate cover to match.

“Your dinner” she announces

She reveals a freshly seasoned sirloin steak, with the most perfect mashed potatoes you’ve ever seen, topped off with fresh cut chives. And he even sent you a slice of chocolate cake. It’s truly the most perfect plate you’ve seen and it was only your second dinner here in the presidential palace. Despite being held captive, Snow was keeping you well fed. You nod at her and begin digging in.

“He wishes to see you after dinner. I’ll wait outside to escort you.”

You look up at her in shock and then another wave of surprise hits you as she hands you an outfit. It was a black two piece. A halter top and pants with the slits of the leg cut out, like a two legged skirt and a pair of lace up, black heels She then hands you a bag with some foundation, mascara, lipstick, and a compact. You take it and she leaves, locking the door. You sit there, fearful and confused. What was he planning on doing to you? Why is he dressing you up like a doll and fattening you like a pig? You look back down at your dinner plate with a new found disgust and push it away. Fuck it. If you don’t finish your dinner, you don’t have to see him. You’ll say you’ve fallen ill, which you practically have when the reality of your situation comes crashing down on you again. You toss the outfit and makeup onto the bed and cross your arms.

A few moments pass and before you know it the maid is knocking again. You assume she’s checking on your progress but she simply walks in with a white envelope in hand. She gives it to you without a word, leaving the room, locking the door again. Your name is printed in fine calligraphy, a deep blood red. You turn it over and notice the, white, wax seal, engraved with a rose. You shakily open it, and reveal a note. It reads:

My dear,

I’ve seen this little show before. I always find it charming and I of course love a good game, however, I know you will not win. No matter how hard you try. This being said, I of all people know how to use hunger as a weapon and trust me your body will crave it soon enough, or I could ask the chef to cook for one less person while you’re in my care. It’s up to you.

Don’t keep me too much longer.

-C.S.

Fuck. He’s watching you. A new wave of consciousness creeps over you and you frantically look around the room, then realize he is probably still watching and stop your movements. You sit on the bed, look at the meal and sigh. Your stomach is growing given lunch was soup and some bread. It was a rich chicken noodle, but not filling enough. He must have planned that too. All a part of the game he was apparently playing with you. You begrudgingly take up the fork and knife, slicing up the juicy meat and biting into it. Of course it’s divine, and a small moan escapes your lips and you scoop up some mashed potatoes.

You take your time to eat though, making him wait even longer for you, despite his request in the note. Maybe you can win this game. In your own little ways. You eventually finish your meal and stare at the outfit and makeup bag. You sigh, seeing that this may be the only way out. You touch the fabric, it’s so silky and smooth. It dances on your fingertips and you can’t help but want to at least try it on. You know once you do that, you’ll be truly trapped in his game. You sigh and want to cry, but hold it together. Now that you're painfully aware he’s watching you, you know the only thing that will please him next will be to do as you're told. Or starve until you die apparently. Would he really do that to a citizen of Panem? You figure he just might, considering you’re this far into his plans. You take the outfit in your hand and walk into the bathroom attached to the room.

As you change, you wonder if he’s still watching you. You hope not. You’d hope he’d give you that privacy, then again you still don’t know what he has in store for you. Given that he’s making you change outfits, it seems like he wants a surprise. Like a gift being presented to him. As you strap up the heels, you take a look at yourself in the mirror. You take a deep breath as the tears start to well in your eyes. Now is not the time to fall into a mess, he wants you beautiful for him and you need to be to make it through this. Once you get a better layout of the palace and his room, you’ll be able to formulate a better escape plan.

You knock on the door and the maid opens in. She is now accompanied by two armed guardsmen, which you assume is to keep you from running. You hold yourself high as you walk out, even though your fear is still sitting in the back of your mind. Without a word, the two men and the maid walk you through the palace. It’s just as beautiful as the pictures you’ve seen. Tall ceilings, marble floors, wide windows, grand staircases. He truly has it all. You follow the group down a long hall, walls decorated with pictures of Panem and Snows of the past. Based on the pictures you see now, he looks a lot like his father. Finally, they arrive at a set of double doors, the same mahogany as the tray table. The maid knocks twice and opens the door. She stands aside and you walk in. The walls of his room have the same white marble as the floors outside, adorned with gold plating. The floors match the door and in front of you is an empty desk and red armchair. Standing beside the wide window, with his back to you, President Snow spares a quick glance over his shoulder, giving a satisfied smile.

“You found your way.”

“I was escorted.”

“That’s not what I meant dear. You look stunning by the way.”

“Well you did pick it” you scoff

“Is that a little attitude I detect?” He clicks his tongue at you “tsk tsk oh my dear, you really want to play like that hmm?”

“I don’t want to play any games, President Snow. Just please, can you tell me why I’m here? Why was I stuck in that room alone for two days?”

“To monitor your health. The drugs I gave you can sometimes make you nauseous for a few days.”

You temper your breathing. So you could have been there for much longer without realizing it. When you woke up that next morning, not in your own bed, in a room completely foreign to you, you did feel slightly groggy, highly confused and had no memory of the night before, which you chalked up to drinking. But no, Snow had drugged you and kidnapped you. And now here you stand, face to face with him. You don’t even remember meeting him until now, now something tells you that you did a few days ago.

“Well why am I here?”

He smirks and walks around to you. You don’t let your eyes leave him. It’s hard not to when his piercing blue ones practically beckon for you to stare into them. They call you, keeping you focused. Now that he’s closer up, you can see the handsome features you’ve only seen in newspapers. The same face that would sit on your coffee table and sometimes be used as a coaster, is now staring at you intensely. He eyes you, and you watch them trail down your body.

“Come closer to me.” He beckons, curling his index finger.

You nervously waltz forward, looking down nervously.

“Look up at me. Did you forget your manners?”

“No…” you breathe, now close enough to be able to touch him.

“No? What did I just say about manners my dear?” He chuckles

“No, President Snow.” You tremble

He reaches out, holding your chin, making you look directly at him.

“Good girl. You’ll learn. Consistency is key after all.” He trails the pad of his thumb against your lower lip and coos at you, almost forgetting his own manners as well. He clears his throat, and removes his hand.

“You want to know why you’re here?” He continues

“Yes, President Snow.” You nod

He smiles at you and tilts his head.

“You’re learning. That’s good.”

He pauses

“I brought you here because I think you’re special. Maybe you are even special enough to keep…”

“To keep, sir?”

“Mhmm” he walks around you, examining you. He brushes your hair back behind your shoulder and wafts in your scent.

“I assume you showered this morning? You smell nice.” He continues

“I did. I used the body wash that was available to me.”

“Good.” He smiles

There is a moment of silence while he continues to look at you. He walks to face you again and you look back up at him quickly.

“So here’s how this will work, you will live here, with me, in the palace. We will start dining together and you will accompany me to events if necessary. People won’t be suspicious since they assume that I was a president of integrity that made sure you got home safe and sound after the gala. They will assume you fell for my chivalry and I under the spell of your beautiful face.”

“For how long?” You stutter

“Well you see, I don’t have an answer for you on that. See I said you can’t win earlier and that wasn’t entirely true. You can win this game.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m looking for a First Lady of Panem. I believe you could be qualified to fit that role, but I like a good trial run with things.”

“So you kidnapped me, because you want me to be your wife.”

“That’s a strong word, but if everything works out then yes, but if not you will be properly reimbursed for your time, a non-disclosure contract will be drawn up, and you’ll be free to live as you please…as long as you don’t go around talking about this, then you’ll have bigger problems. Do you understand?” He raises an eyebrow

“Yes, President Snow…”

“Good. When I’m not around, the maids will tend to you, and you will from now on have armed guards with you at all times. When you sleep, they will guard your room.”

“I understand.”

“You are very lucky either way. I do believe most women would love to be here right now, hand picked by their president. I have fine taste you see, and that applies to the women I make mine as well.”

“What if I win,” you start, putting win in air quotes “then doesn’t that mean I stay here. With you…forever?”

“That’s right my dear, you’ll be by my side, rule over Panem with me.”

“What if I don’t want that?” You mumble, fearful of his answer

He steps closer and smiles at you. He takes a lock of your hair and rubs it between his thumb and forefinger. He drops it and smooths it out along your collarbone.

“Oh, I’m sure you will. Once you see what this lifestyle has to offer, you’ll try to be my most perfect girl.”

Your eyes widen and your heartbeat speeds up. You have nothing to say, as if all language has escaped your brain.

“Do you have anything else to ask me?” He smiles

“Why not just find a wife through normal means? Meet someone and get to know them?” You quiver again

“Why would I do that when it’s in my complete power to pick and choose. It’s easier that way too, I hate courting somebody, that silly dance people do. Does she like me, does he think I’m pretty, blah blah blah. All nonsense if you ask me. I know I like you. Like you enough to see if you're a good fit. All I really have to do is get you to like me. It’s better that way. You got to the store to buy things like apples, well I picked mine straight from the tree. I don’t go through anyone for the things I want. I just…take it.”

“And you won’t hurt me?”

“Hurt you? Of course not. Why would I want to hurt a beautiful thing such as yourself. He smirks.

He walks back around you again and stands behind. He places his hand on your shoulder, brushes back your hair and leans into your ear.

“You should know how beautiful you are. To me you are divine.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning the shell of your ear.

He rubs your shoulders tenderly, thumbs moving along your spine. Then unexpectedly, you feel his lips press against your neck. He applies a fair amount of pressure, leaving several kisses behind as he pulls back.

“Did that hurt?”

“No sir.” You breathe

“See. Like I said I don’t want to hurt you”

He returns his lips back to your neck, his hand creeping up to your jaw to push you more aggressively against his mouth. Your breath hitches and heartbeat speeds up. You want to turn him away, push him off and scream that he's an absolute monster, but your body begins to betray you. A slow heat creeps up your body, your cunt beginning to throb. You purse your lips, controlling your breath as he continues to attack your neck.

“Tell me, what can I do to make you happy while you’re in my care. I do truly desire your comfort as much as I desire to find a proper First Lady.”

“I want to be able to speak to my family. Do they know where I am?”

“Right now, they assume that you are away for work, and got called up to model the latest dresses for future Hunger Games contestants this summer. To them, you’re in District 2 for a few days.”

With that you snap and push him away, flinching as he tries to kiss you again. In response, he clutches your arm and pulls you back to him. He tightens his grip, teeth grazing your ears.

“Or I’ll send them another letter saying you were found dead after the gala, popped some pills looking for fun and took your last breath instead.” He grits harshly

“You said you don’t want to hurt me.” You whine

“I don’t want to. But I most certainly can.” He growls

“Please, I don’t want this please just let me go instead, I’ll take whatever money you offer, I don’t want this!” You begin to cry

“Let’s be honest, you don’t know what you really want. If you did, you’d be begging to stay. So I’ll show you. I’ll show you everything you could really want and more”

He once again surprises you, kissing your cheek, softly letting your tears roll onto his lips. He holds you more gently now, and you can feel your body wanting to melt into his arms. You start to stifle your tears and he soothes you.

“I have a feeling you just might be the one. You’re not like the others so far…”

“Others?” You mumble

“Mhmm. They aren’t around anymore. Like I said they got their dues instead. They know what happens if they speak up. I think you should really think about what it means for you to be my prize. Because like I said, even if you lose the game, you still belong to me.”

He kisses your jaw, hands settling on your waist. He coos into your ear, stroking your hair. You sniffle and look down at the floor. He moves his hand and tilts your head back up.

“You’ll be able to talk to your family soon enough darling. I promise.” He kisses your cheek again.

You shutter against him, more cries desperately wanting to escape your lips, but the way he continues to stroke your hair, soothes you. You suddenly feel so conflicted, accepting his comfort, but wanting to turn him away.

“In the meantime my dear…” he moves his hands back to your waist and squeezes your hips. Your body tenses at his actions and he moves his lips back down to your neck. You are somewhat frozen, trying your best to focus more on the pleasure he brings you.

“I’d like to get to know you better. Show you how beautiful you are? Hmm would you like that?” His left hand trails up your body, stopping just as he reaches your breast. You quiver at his touch, and turn to look toward him. Your eyes are full of fear and Coriolanus can see it. He sighs.

“Or perhaps another night. I’ll let you get more settled in…” he kisses your cheek one last time, before stepping in front of you. You look up at him and nod. With the pad of this thumb, he wipes a tear away. He calls out for the maid and she opens the door.

“I think we both shall retire for the night.” He tells her.

He holds your chin one last time, and you face him fully.

“I expect to see you at breakfast tomorrow. What do you like?”

“I’ll eat anything you give me.” You quiver

He gives you a faint smile and a simple nod. He sends you off with the maid and armed guards back to your room, watching you as you go. Once you return, you are left alone again and remember that he can watch you in this room. Which he is. As soon as you left, he poured himself a glass of whiskey and turned the video feed back on. He watched you enter the room. As you sit on the bed, trying not to cry, then look over into the bathroom and huff. You stand back up and storm in, closing the door behind you. You let out a huge sigh of relief. You were sure he would be persistent, not stop and until he truly got what he wanted. Which is you. You sink down onto the floor, bury your face in your knees and let out a slow, soft sob.

꧁🝮꧂

Next Chapter

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Years after a push to rename a cluster of islands named with a racial slur in Nunavut, the territorial government says it's working on it.  The Old Squaw Islands, the official name recognized by the Nunavut government, are located approximately 40 kilometres southeast of Iqaluit. That hits close to home for Madeleine d'Argencourt – both geographically and personally. "[The term] is derogatory. My first-born daughter is half First Nations," she said. 

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Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[devildomwriter]

A Newborn Queen | Diavolo x Reader

.7K Words | AFAB! Reader | CW: mentions of labor, Diavolo and reader have childten

Every generation the Devil had a son. The son grew up, became the devil himself and their bride or lover birthed them a son or two. That’s how it always had been and how it was expected to always be. Until you. You and Diavolo had already had a son and were delighted to find you were expecting another child. Expecting a son, because anything else was unheard of, you didn’t bother with a gender reveal test.

You gripped Diavolo’s hand in pain of labor. Despite all the magic placed upon you to ease your suffering, the one who gave birth to the child of the devil was doomed to suffer pain. You knew this and accepted it, Diavolo grieved for your pain, he hated to see how you shouted in pain.

Finally, after what felt like far too long, your child arrived. Diavolo moved from your side, grabbing a blanket so he could be the first to hold your child.

The doctor gasped and yours and Diavolo’s hearts skipped, panicked something had gone wrong. But you heard the baby’s cries and sighed in relief. Diavolo, however, was still astounded.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, frightened and Diavolo shook his head to ease your nerves.

He kissed the child wrapped in a blanket in his arms and tears fell down his cheeks as he smiled. He looked at you with more love and adoration in his eyes than you’d ever seen.

He walked to you and dismissed the doctor and nurses as he sat next to you.

“___, meet our daughter.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you looked at him with as much shock as he’d had. “A girl? She’s really a girl?” Your eyes welled with tears too.

You never thought you’d have a girl. It was unheard of and Diavolo had told you as much. The fact you’d had a child at all was a blessing since conception between demons was so rare. But now you had both a son and a daughter.

Diavolo unwillingly handed your daughter to you for you to hold against your chest. Your mind raced with thoughts of wonder. How incredible was it that you’d really had a daughter?

Diavolo held you close, incredibly proud of you for enduring birth and more in love than ever that you’d blessed him with a daughter.

There was a knock on the door from Barbatos and he was allowed in.

In his arms was your two-year-old son, Chao who stretched out his arms for you. Diavolo stood up and grabbed his son, holding him against him.

Barbatos approached your side with permission and stared in delight at the child.

“Have you decided on his name?” He asked and you and Diavolo gave each other a look and grinned.

“Actually, we haven’t decided on her name just yet,” Diavolo beamed with emphasis on ‘her.’

Barbatos stiffened in shock. For a demon who could see the past and future it was rare to give him such a surprise.

His shock faded to delight and he beamed as though he were the parent himself. “This is a most wonderful surprise,” he exclaimed.

Diavolo nodded and held Chao closer to his little sister. Chao had expected a brother and you suspected it’d take him time to understand he had a sister instead.

“What do we name our Princess?” Diavolo asked as Chao rested peacefully in his arms.

You shook your head, unsure. “I hadn’t even considered girl names.”

Diavolo nodded as it was the same for him. “Chao means chaos…what about something similar for her?”

Chao looked at his dad, hearing his name, and began grabbing at his horns. Diavolo let him, to keep him calm as he discussed this with you.

You thought for a few minutes and you bounced names off each other. “Discord?” Diavolo thought aloud and you shook your head, the nam was too masculine sounding. Suddenly it hit you.

“I’ve got it,” you announced excitedly. “Disarray.”

Diavolo’s eyes widened and he thought about it. He grinned and nodded, “I love it. We can call her Ray for short.” He suggested and you nodded.

“Ray,” Chao babbled and you and Diavolo grinned and nodded.

“Yes, Chao. This is your baby sister, Ray.”

Eventually, Chao grew bored and Barbatos took him away so you and Diavolo could share in your joy. You fell asleep against Diavolo, exhausted from labor and he kissed your head as he cradled your daughter in his arms.

[asongoficeandfiresource]

Meta: A Tale of Three Daenerys’

An element of authenticity George R. R. Martin adds to the ASOIAF universe is the repetition of names. The same names appear repeatedly within specific cultures and the spread and popularity of certain names is used to illustrate how one culture has influenced another. Just look at the wide popularity of Targaryen names throughout Westeros, especially Alysanne.

With Daenerys Targaryen, GRRM has created two other characters with her name, so far: Daenerys, daughter of Aegon IV and Naerys, and Daenerys, daughter of Alysanne and Jaehaerys I. Both of these characters seem to be used to lay the groundwork for elements of the canon era Daenerys’ story and character arc.

Daenerys, the Retconned Princess

In The World of Ice and Fire, Jaehaerys I and Alysanne do not have a daughter named Daenerys. In fact, in the main series, Daenerys of Dorne is referred to as the first. But with the release of Fire and Blood Vol 1, Martin restructured the birth order of Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s children, which included not just reshuffling, but also removing and adding children. One of those additions was Princess Daenerys, who took the place of Alyssa as the second born child and oldest daughter of the family.

So the question is, why did Martin retcon TWOIAF just to add a new Daenerys? Part of the reason is likely to flesh out the reign of Jaehaerys and Alysanne with more information and loss. But why name her Daenerys and not Rhaenys after their grandmother or any other name? There is a wealth of Targaryen names Martin could have given this new child, but he chose Daenerys, the name of one of his main five characters in the core series. He likely made that choice to give additional foreshadowing for the canon era character.

At first glance, the two Daenerys’ don’t have much in common with Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s daughter being born into a stable family and kingdom as their oldest living child who grew into a confident girl but died young, while our Dany was born an orphan and an exile, and grew up constantly afraid, gaining confidence and strength in her teens. In that way, they are narrative foils. But where the foreshadowing comes in is with how Alysanne views her daughter.

Based on a combination of moments in Fire and Blood, there is a possibility that Alysanne had the gift of foresight, like other Targaryens in the series. For some unexplained reason, Alysanne is very insistent on Daenerys becoming queen after her father. This is strange because equal primogeniture is not the norm in their culture. Visenya did not become queen regnant, her younger brother Aegon became king. Rhaena did not become queen regnant, her two younger brothers and uncle became kings, though Aegon the Uncrowned was only a claimant. What’s more, Alysanne never pushes for Rhaena’s rights over Jaehaerys’. But she does push for Daenerys’ rights over her son’s. Why? Because she knows Daenerys will be a great queen:

[Princess Daenerys] so enchanted Alysanne that for a time Her Grace even began to eschew council sessions, preferring to spend her days playing with her daughter and reading her the stories that her own mother had once read to her. “She is so clever, she will be reading to me before long,” she told the king. “She is going to be a great queen, I know it.” – Fire and Blood

This is a rare issue where Alysanne is certain about something, but turns out to be wrong, since her daughter dies before having the opportunity to become queen regnant. It is very possible that Alysanne’s certainty over her daughter’s future and Martin’s purpose for retconning this child into existence was to foreshadow Dany’s eventual position as Queen of Westeros. Often with prophetic visions, they can be misunderstood by the person experiencing them as seen with Daeron the Drunken and Daemon II Blackfyre in the Dunk and Egg novellas. While both of their dreams came true, they happened very differently than what they initially believed. So the great queen named Daenerys who Alysanne might have seen wasn’t her daughter but her distant descendant.

Daenerys of Dorne

The Princess Daenerys who married Maron Martell was initially mentioned in passing in a Dunk and Egg novella, The Sworn Sword, but wasn’t named in the text until A Dance With Dragons where her connection to both the series era Dany and Martell family was emphasized. She is cited by Davos as the person Dany was named after and is the source of the Targaryen blood that gives Quentyn the belief that he can tame one of the dragons. She is also the reason the Water Gardens were built and through that palace was able to impact every generation of Dornish children after her.

Unlike the previous Daenerys, there are quite a few parallels between Daenerys of Dorne and the canon era Dany. They were both the products of extremely unhappy and abusive marriages. They each had significant age gaps between them and their siblings, with their older brother having reached adulthood and had a child or children of his own by the time of their birth. Their brothers married them to men outside of their culture. While Dany was exchanged for the promise of an army to take back Westeros, Princess Daenerys’s marriage was part of a treaty that united Dorne with the rest of Westeros. Both women marry for duty despite loving other men. Each of them are particularly protective and caring toward children. They also look beyond the social status of individuals and see that everyone is equally worthy of protection and a quality life.

While Dany pushes for freedom and justice in Slaver’s Bay, Princess Daenerys used her position in Dorne to benefit children regardless of class:

“Beautiful and peaceful,” the prince said. “Cool breezes, sparkling water, and the laughter of children. The Water Gardens are my favorite place in this world, ser. One of my ancestors had them built to please his Targaryen bride and free her from the dust and heat of Sunspear. Daenerys was her name. She was sister to King Daeron the Good, and it was her marriage that made Dorne part of the Seven Kingdoms. The whole realm knew that the girl loved Daeron’s bastard brother Daemon Blackfyre, and was loved by him in turn, but the king was wise enough to see that the good of thousands must come before the desires of two, even if those two were dear to him. It was Daenerys who filled the gardens with laughing children. Her own children at the start, but later the sons and daughters of lords and landed knights were brought in to be companions to the boys and girls of princely blood. And one summer’s day when it was scorching hot, she took pity on the children of her grooms and cooks and serving men and invited them to use the pools and fountains too, a tradition that has endured till this day."

——

"I told the story to Ser Balon, but not all of it. As the children splashed in the pools, Daenerys watched from amongst the orange trees, and a realization came to her. She could not tell the highborn from the low. Naked, they were only children. All innocent, all vulnerable, all deserving of long life, love, protection. ‘There is your realm,’ she told her son and heir, 'remember them, in everything you do.’ My own mother said those same words to me when I was old enough to leave the pools. It is an easy thing for a prince to call the spears, but in the end the children pay the price. For their sake, the wise prince will wage no war without good cause, nor any war he cannot hope to win.– ADWD

It might seem like a simple thing to allow a large amount of commoner children to partake in privileges alongside highborn and royal children, but this is hugely significant since it allows children of higher stations to form positive relationships with children of lower classes. The rest of Westeros does this at a far smaller degree, but usually at the convenience of the highborn. This act essentially put all of the children who stay at the Water Gardens on equal footing, even temporarily so they can all see that at their core, they are all made the same. This allows the royalty and nobility to empathize with commoners which will impact the choices that will impact everyone. Princess Daenerys’ impact on the ruling family kept Dorne mostly out of the War of the Five Kings, meaning that while the common people of nearly every region have been slaughtered and abused in the conflict, only one Dornishman has died so far, Oberyn Martell, a prince in full control of his actions rather than thousands of commoners ordered onto the battlefield.

Even though Dany is still a queen at war in the series, there are similarities between her motivation and choices. As noted above, both Daenerys’ have a weakness for children. Princess Daenerys fills the Water Gardens with “laughing children”. Dany wishes to do the same:

I want to make my kingdom beautiful, to fill it with fat men and pretty maids and laughing children. – ACOK

But more than that dream, when it comes to children Dany shows she is willing to take direct action to protect and avenge them. When the slavers of Meereen murder slave children and taunt Dany by mounting their bodies on milepost, Dany made sure to see them herself: "I will see every one, and count them, and look upon their faces. And I will remember.” (ASOS) Then she avenged them by killing the exact number of slavers in the same way the children were killed. Even when she doubts whether she did the right thing, she insists it was done for the children. Then, when Drogon kills a child, Hazzea, Dany tries to chain all of her dragons so that never happens again, though she only manages to capture two of the three. Despite the fact that she considers the dragons to be her own children, it only takes the death of one child to push her to imprison them, showing just how much she prioritizes the lives of these people. Even when it comes to the children of the slavers, Dany refuses to harm them regardless of what crimes the adult slaver commit:

Dany had grown fond of her young charges. Some were shy and some were bold, some sweet and some sullen, but all were innocent. – ADWD

Where the strongest parallel comes into play is with the way both Daenerys’ realize that there is no fundamental difference between people of different social classes since they are the same when brought down to their bare essentials:

On another island two lovers kissed in the shade of tall green trees, with no more shame than Dothraki at a wedding. Without clothing, [Dany] could not tell if they were slave or free. – ASOS

--

As the children splashed in the pools, Daenerys watched from amongst the orange trees, and a realization came to her. She could not tell the highborn from the low. Naked, they were only children. All innocent, all vulnerable, all deserving of long life, love, protection. – ADWD

The only thing that separates the highborn from the low or the free and the enslaved are societal restrictions. Since there are no natural physical differences between people of different ranks in society, that means they are all deserving of freedom and good lives. While Princess Daenerys acted upon this realization to effect change through the inclusion of all children from different walks of life into the Water Gardens, Dany fights for the freedom of slaves and allows freedmen places of power in her government and gives them a voice at court alongside people who were born free. Here are just a few of the many examples of Dany attempting to establish equality for the freedmen:

Reznak would have summoned another tokar next, but Dany insisted that he call upon a freedman. Thereafter she alternated between the former masters and the former slaves. – ADWD

--

Rylona Rhee had played the harp as sweetly as the Maiden. When she had been a slave in Yunkai, she had played for every highborn family in the city. In Meereen she had become a leader amongst the Yunkish freedmen, their voice in Dany’s councils. – ADWD

--

“The freedmen work too cheaply, Magnificence,” Reznak said. “Some call themselves journeymen, or even masters, titles that belong by rights only to the craftsmen of the guilds. The masons and the bricklayers do respectfully petition Your Worship to uphold their ancient rights and customs.”

“The freedmen work cheaply because they are hungry,” Dany pointed out. “If I forbid them to carve stone or lay bricks, the chandlers, the weavers, and the goldsmiths will soon be at my gates asking that they be excluded from those trades as well.” She considered a moment. “Let it be written that henceforth only guild members shall be permitted to name themselves journeymen or masters … provided the guilds open their rolls to any freedman who can demonstrate the requisite skills.” – ADWD

Princess Daenerys also helped to cement a permanent peace between House Targaryen and House Martell with her marriage uniting Westeros. That combined with the tradition of creating a closer bond between people of different classes and the continued caution on thinking of the people while making decisions that will affect them, she continues her legacy of peace. Our Dany also keeps the people who choose to follow her at the forefront of her thoughts with every decision she makes. She too wishes for peace and takes action to achieve that, even at her own detriment.

“Peace is my desire. You say that you can help me end the nightly slaughter in my streets. I say do it. Put an end to this shadow war, my lord. That is your quest. Give me ninety days and ninety nights without a murder, and I will know that you are worthy of a throne. Can you do that?” - Daenerys IV ADWD

--

She thought of Doreah, of Quaro, of Eroeh … of a little girl she had never met, whose name had been Hazzea. Better a few should die in the pit than thousands at the gates. This is the price of peace, I pay it willingly. If I look back, I am lost. - Daenerys VIII ADWD

--

Like all good queens she put her people first—else she would never have wed Hizdahr zo Loraq—but the girl in her still yearned for poetry, passion, and laughter. – ADWD

Conclusion

While the three Daenerys’ don’t have anything close to similar lives, each of the Daenerys’ of the past seem to intentionally have call backs or call forwards to the series era Dany. Both of them seem to foreshadow Dany’s current and future storylines with pushes for social progress and her future as the reigning Queen of Westeros. So far, Martin has included only three characters with this name, but with the positive change Dany is bringing to Essos and will bring to Westeros when she helps save the world from the Others, it would only be natural for the name to grow in popularity.