#Sylvie x daughter! Reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

adragonprinceswhore · 5 months ago

Text

One Whore Is As Good As Another

Aemond x Brothel worker x (drunk) Aegon

Summary: Desperate to prove he's no mere boy, Prince Aemond leaves his taunting brother and seeks out another conquest. Momentarily, he feels back in control, until his brother reappears.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, reader is a brothel worker and has Valyrian features, targcest, rough sex, oral (m. receiving), face fuccin', P in V, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, titty slapping, humiliation, degradation, dysfunctional brothers

Word Count: 2000

A/N: I had this idea when I read the leaks for episode 3, and let's just say Aegon's awfulness worked great as inspiration. Filthy drabble ahead!

You've seen Prince Aemond's long, silver hair flash by in the corner of your eye countless times in the past weeks.

You never get the chance to observe the prince up close. He only appears fleetingly, confidently striding through the Blue Pearl towards the room where Madame Sylvie awaits him.

She seems to be his favourite; the only one allowed to touch the imposing young man. Sometimes he spends hours with her, though you are not privy to the details. All you know is that most men entering your place of employment conduct much shorter visits.

You do not envy your madame. Entertaining a Targaryen prince is no easy feat, from what you've heard.

Still, you do wonder what it would be like to catch his eye. For him to choose you, like he had chosen the madame.

Had he ever caught sight of you, like you did him? Had he ever seen the shimmer of your silver hair reflect in the corner of his eye?

Does you Valyrian heritage look as alluring as that of the statuesque prince, despite being born a bastard?

These thoughts had merely been fugitive, indulgent fantasies.

Until tonight.

Prince Aemond stands naked in the middle of the vast space in the heart of the Blue Pearl, seeing eye gazing out over the intertwined bodies moving in differing rhythms.

No one had asked for your services as of yet, and you'd therefore been tasked with refilling chalices and plates for the patrons.

The prince's gaze settles on you as you pour wine into a few cups scattered around, ensuring no one chases pleasure parched.

He walks towards you in slow, confident steps, seemingly uncaring that he is fully nude.

'Tis a brothel after all.

Placing the decanter back on the table, you curtsey as he draws near; trembling fingers fumbling with the thin material of your gown,

"Wine, your grace?"

"Do you work here?"

'Tis not the wine that caught his attention.

"Yes. How may I be of service?"

His eye scans the place, searching for a more secluded spot. He gestures towards a plush settee tucked away in a corner with a nod, prompting you to follow him there.

Walking next to the prince, you can truly admire the sharp features of his face. His hair is as fetching up close, and his skin resembles milk; so clear and smooth.

Clean.

Not fit for the filthy surroundings you'd been brought up in.

"Are you my uncle's bastard?"

His query catches you off guard,

"I-, I do not know, your grace. Mayhaps"

You could be his cousin.

Or his sister.

It matters little here; the gods had decided both of your fates when they ruled it fair he be born a prince and you a bastard to a whore in Flea Bottom.

Despite the evident uncertainty, your answer seems to please him.

Prince Aemond's hums, seeing eye narrowing and the right corner of his mouth twitching briefly, perhaps nearly breaking into a smile.

The possibility of you being his uncle's daughter excites him.

"Lay down"

You do as told, reclining on the settee. The corner the two of you occupy is fairly out of sight, yet there is no curtain hindering wandering eyes from seeing your act. It surprises you that the otherwise secretive prince would chose such an exposed place for your coupling, yet you say nothing.

The choice is his.

He inspects your form as you lie down; gaze traveling from the round softness of your breasts to the smooth skin of your inner thighs. The gown you wear leaves little hidden, and the prince's searing stare causes your heart to drum quicker in your chest.

The unpredictability of what he'll do next; of what he wants from you, causes as much unease within you as the determined look in his eye elicits.

He hums, head nodding faintly to himself, before he moves towards you, lifting one long, lean leg so he may straddle your chest.

His cock is right by your mouth, already growing larger as he gazes down at your face underneath him.

Perhaps 'tis the gaining of control that arouses the prince so; seeing you laid out for him with nothing but obedience to offer.

He feeds you his half-hard cock; not too brutish to force it all in your mouth at once. A prince still keeps his manners, you suppose.

Taking him in, you feel the skin of his member; hot and with a taste like salt. It's heavy in your mouth, and the awkward position the prince has you in does not allow you much movement.

He looks down at you; one eye stoney and unmoving, with shadows and light dancing in it. The other expressive and fierce.

Hungry.

Both his hands grab the back of the seat as he leans forward, forcing more of his cock down your throat. It prevents you from breathing, yet you do your best to appease him, sucking and swallowing him to the best of your ability.

You feel his balls slap your chin as he rocks into your mouth, pleased grunts escaping his lips.

A few more thrusts and you start to feel dizzy, not receiving enough air with the prince's manhood in your mouth and his lower belly pressed up against your nose.

You gently tap his leg and he abruptly pulls away from you, hurriedly moving off of you to stand next to the settee.

You cough as you inhale air once again, looking up at him with glassy eyes and wet lips, shining with spit.

His face is still harsh and demanding, and your gaze flickers down to his cock.

Decorated in your spit, it has grown double in size and is now red; like vexed skin after a beating.

You lay still, breathing rapidly to regain your senses. After giving you a moment to calm, Prince Aemond gestures for you to stand, and sits down on the settee.

He grabs your hips, dragging you towards his lap, and so 'tis your time to straddle him, take his cock in hand and sink down on it.

You know how to play these games. You know how to appease the men seeking your touch. Still, the moan you emit as you take in the prince is not solely performative; the stretch of his member fills you to the point of pain.

You bite your lip in a vain effort to concentrate, set on pleasing and serving your prince. Moving up and down in a slow pace, you grow wetter and more accustomed to his intrusion, and soon, your own pleasure follows.

"A-, ah, Prince Aemond", you call out, hoping the flattery will make him favour you even more. Mayhaps as much as he favours your madame.

He grunts and places his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him so he may rest his face against your scarcely clad bosom. He's enjoying you; reveling in your cunt, and it feels like the highest of praise.

You continue to call his title, his name, moving faster and harsher up and down his length, until,

"Brother!"

You catch the flash of a figure stumbling towards you in the corner of your eye, certain you know who it is before looking up;

King Aegon.

His lips are curved into a lazy smile, eyes half-lidded and hair tousled,

"I knew you had it in ya!"

The king ends his exclamation with a slur, clearly far too drunk to be staggering around Flea Bottom unattended.

You'd never been eye to eye with the king before; word around the street was that he found the Blue Pearl far too dull. He requires more to quench his thirst for depravity.

And yet, seeing you ride his brother's cock seems to be to his liking,

"Come on, girl, ride the dragon!", King Aegon shouts before falling into a fit of laughter. His hand smacks your arse as if you were a mare, urging you to go faster.

You search the prince's face for approval, but he's not looking at you anymore. His dark gaze is trained on his brother; still harsh and determined. You take his silence for compliance and move faster; quick breaths of exhaustion and moans of pleasure slipping out from your still wet lips.

"Making her do all the work-",

Aegon's still laughing between the words he slurs out. Standing behind you, one of his hands move to cup your left breast, and he squeezes it roughly; too drunk to appreciate tenderness,

"-I can see why"

Prince Aemond is still silent; still staring at his amused brother.

"No, no, no, this won't do", the king mumbles as he releases the harsh grip he'd had on your breast,

"Remove your gown, bastard"

Again, you seek Prince Aemond's eye for instruction, but he does not grant it. So, you grab the hem of your thin attire and pull it off over your head, exposing yourself to the Targaryen brothers.

'Tis not like you've never been naked before; you entertain most guests nude. Still, there's something about the royals' presence, their ongoing, silent battle, that leaves you feeling more exposed than ever before.

King Aegon hums in appreciation at the sight of your bare teats, the same rough hand coming up to slap the side of one of them, chuckling as they knock together.

You pick up the pace to ride your prince again, yet the king does not leave you be. His voice is still amused, though tinted with something darker, as he commands his brother,

"I want to see you fuck her like a hound, Aemond"

The prince does not reply, and your pace does not falter. You were tasked with pleasuring the prince, and if he did not reply to his brother's orders, neither would you.

Though he is your king.

"Fuck her like a hound! Come on!"

King Aegon sounds more agitated now; impatient. He does not like that his brother does not obey him instantaneously; that he would refuse an order.

The prince is as stubborn as his elder, and in between the brothers, is you;

Caught between two dragons waging a war of wills.

"Get up", Prince Aemond grits through clenched teeth.

You comply, standing swiftly only to be turned and roughly placed back on the settee on your knees.

The prince places a hand on your lower back, pushing you to arch, and enters you in one stroke, reaching far deeper than your previous position had allowed.

He quickly sets a brutal pace; fucking your squelching cunt harsh and quick.

You desperately hold on to the back of the seat, vainly searching for some control as the prince takes his pleasure from you.

Behind you, you hear his laboured breaths and grunts, and the entertained cackle of the king,

"That's more like it!"

He walks around the settee to face you; watching your body as it sways back and forward with the prince's rough thrusts.

Leaning in closely, so closely that his wine-soaked breath is right by your cheek, King Aegon inquires, "How does royal cock feel?"

You know how to play these games.

"Heavenly, your grace"

He hums and touches a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger, "Is that what your mother thought as well?"

He does not bother with waiting for an answer from you; truly, he's not interested in knowing. Instead, he circles the settee yet again to stand next to his brother, mesmerised by the sight of his cock driving in and out of you,

"Where on her will you spill?"

Prince Aemond stays silent, pace never faltering.

“Face, teats or arse?”, his brother asks, but before his stoic sibling answers, he decides for him,

"Spill on her face. You got to appreciate those, uh, familiar features"

A few more rough strokes and the prince pulls out, grabs your waist, and turns you around so that you face them both. He pushes on your shoulder in a silent order for you to get on the floor, once again with his member in your face.

With a quick hand he strokes his slick cock, seed shooting out like arrows, landing on your cheeks, in your hair, on your lips.

He's breathing heavily, yet does not say anything, nor does he moan or grunt. He simply decorates your face in pearly luminescence, matching your silver hair and lilac eyes.

When he's done, he turns, and you see his older brother lay a comradery hand on his shoulder, commending him for "a good fuck".

As the brothers walk away together, you see the tension in Prince Aemond's shoulders ease ever so slightly.

The burdens of being a royal.

A/N: If the HotD writers want Aemond to be obsessed with his uncle, I'll comply! I like to write these little drabbles as a fun way to practice writing without much pressure, so please be kind, it's all just for fun!

#aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii fanfic #my fics

3K notes · View notes

sapphiresandferrari · 5 months ago

Text

His sweet girl

Summary: Aemond catches feelings for one of the girls at the brothel and his brother, Aegon, almost ruined everything

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x ocf!reader

Warnings: emotionally constipated Aemond, cunt Aegon, implied smut, lactation kink if you squint, fluff

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm Rosie and this is my first fic ever

Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, feel free to give me advices or suggestion, just be polite

English is NOT my first language, so apologies if there are any mistakes

Gif credits: @aegonx

Enjoy 🫶🏻

Aemond doesn’t know exactly when se became so important to him.

One night he went to the brothel for his usual service, the last weeks has been hectic, everything was overwhelming, his father’s death, Aegon’s coronation and Luke’s death, so he had to find a way to release the stress that it wasn’t training with ser Criston Cole.

So, when he arrived at the pleasure house, he thought that Madame Sylvi was waiting for him like she usually did for the last weeks, instead, one of the servants informed him that Madame was unavailable for that night, but that she had chosen another girl that would satisfy him as much as she did.

Hearing those words, made him want to turn around and leave, not comfortable with the idea of opening himself with a different woman than the one he was used to, yet something inside of him didn’t want to leave, he thought that if Madame Sylvi has personally chosen this girl, then maybe he should’ve give it a shot and try, see how it was.

After all, she knew him and his needs, especially with all the times they laid together, so he decided to trust her judgement, and let the servant guiding him to the secluded area prepared for him.

Once he moved the curtain, he found a girl, no more than few years older than him, laying on the bed, surrounded by pillows and candles: she was wearing a sheer robe, her hair down, thick and long dark locks were covering her, in her eyes an expression he was having a hard time to decipher, a mix of excitement and fear.

She was staring at him, taking her time to admire the beautiful and stoic man in front of her, he was exactly as the girls at the brothel and the small folk described him: his long silver hair, his purple eye, his fierce aura, he was a mesmerising sight.

As he approached her, he thought that he never saw her before at the brothel, he was trying to remember her small face but he simply couldn’t so he figured that she might be a new addiction there, yet if Sylvi chose her specifically, this means she wasn’t someone new.

He started to undress slowly, taking his time to look at the girl in front of him, her appearance was pleasant, she wasn’t exactly what he was searching, but she still had something magnetic in herself, she had a soft body, with plump breasts and wide hips, her body was different from the one of Madame, yet she still had something comforting that made him at ease right away.

She stood up, taking few steps and stopping in front of him, slightly bowing her head “good evening, my prince, Madame Sylvi apologise that she can’t serve you tonight, but she thought I might be a good enough substitute for you tonight”.

She extended a hand for him, which he took after few moments of silent, noticing how small it was compared to his, slowly walking him to the bed in the middle of the room.

“I’ve never saw you before, when did you start working here?”, he asked, curious to see if his assumption was correct

“Oh, I don’t exactly work here, my prince. My father sold me to Madame when I was a child and she thought I was too young to work here, so she kinda raised me like a daughter, usually I stay upstairs or I serve refreshments, I only work when she specifically asks me to”

So, she wasn’t a whore, not entirely at least, and this awakened something inside of him, he started wondering how many men she slept with, how many she pleased, if she was indeed able to please him as she said.

“Did you sleep with many men before? Are you sure you can serve me properly, child?”

“Not many men, but I’m sure you’ll be very satisfied my prince, and if you don’t trust my words, trust Madame’s judgement”

And so he did, and while he was thrusting inside her soft and warm flesh, he thought how different she was than Sylvi, how tight and wet she was, how her whimpers and moans were shy, how full she was making him feel.

He stayed there after he came, his head placed on her soft breasts, her hands caressing his hair and forehead, their breaths steady, her heartbeat calming, he felt well, satisfied with her service, his thoughts and troubles away for the time she was embracing him.

He told her about his worries, about his dreams, and what shocked him the most, was that she wasn’t afraid to tell him what she was thinking: she spoke calmly, without fear, but still in a respectful manner, not wanting to disrespect him nor his family, it was a rare thing, usually people lie to him or tells him half truth in order to not upset him, Sylvi included.

When he came back evenings after, he hoped to find her again, and he was slightly disappointed to see that Sylvi was waiting for him and not her once again.

Madame realised it too, she could feel a shift in his behaviour, at first thinking it was because of everything it was happening with the war and his family, but when he asked her where she was, her doubts became certainty.

“You don’t want my services anymore, my prince?”, she asked as they laid together after their highs, his head on her lap, curled up like a babe.

“Is not that, I like you and you help me a lot, but it was different with her, she understands me, she is not afraid to tell me the truth and actually gives me advises, she listens carefully and tells me what she thinks, it is a rare thing nowadays, everyone too scared to offend me and have me lose my patience

That’s why I want her to serve me from now on, you were good to me, but I think I found a better match”.

Sylvi wasn’t too pleased about this decision, she enjoyed the evenings with the prince, he treated her with respect, making her feel desired and appreciated, but he was still a prince, and if he didn’t want her services anymore, she had to accept it and move on, at the end of the day, he was still a paying costumer like everybody else, and her last goal was to please him, whether it happened personally or not.

Aemond kept going to the brothel almost every night, gently fucking her and then laying on the bed, his head on her chest, talking about his days, about his dysfunctional family, his plans for the war, and she stayed there, listening to him and caressing his head, and when he wasn’t talking, he was listening to her, talking about the books she was reading or about something she did that day, his lips sucking on one of her nipples lazily, eyes closed, eyepatch discharged somewhere on the bed, hand kneading the soft flesh of her hips.

He loved those moments, he felt at peace, somehow invincible, wondering if he will ever feel like this with another woman, but deep down knowing that no noble woman would be so understanding of him, especially not his betrothed.

It was during one of these nights that his brother, Aegon, had found him, ruining the only good thing he had in his life, Vhagar excluded.

They were there, entangled after their highs, the comfort of her arms making him feel so well, when his drunk brother opened the curtain, revealing himself to him and his mates, not wasting a second to humiliate him.

Aemond immediately got up, sitting there, looking somewhere on the floor, trying to steady his breath, listening to his brother rambling about him “fucking her like a hound”, watching her trying to cover herself for the embarrassment, shielding her body from his brother’s eyes.

He decided to leave, being too angry and humiliated, his brother rambling about searching for Madame to “make a man out of one of the white cloaks” but he found a better amusement after he saw his brother there

“You can have her, brother, one whore is as good as another” he said before taking his leave, the look of disappointment and heartbreaking in her face.

He couldn’t sleep that night, he kept seeing her disappointed face over and over again.

He knew he hurt her, that she had no fault for what happened, his brother was a drunken cunt, and she had to suffer the consequences for his stupid actions.

For days he contemplated about going there and apologise, explaining that he was not expecting for his brother be there, that he hasn’t gone to the brothel in years and he thought it was a safe space for him, away from his brother’s mess, yet he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t go there, relieving the memory of that night again.

In the end he decided to go, he was longing her touch, her softness, her sweetness, ha had to admit to himself (with an enormous amount of strength) that he needed her, so he went there one morning, when he knew anyone would’ve gone there and disturb them.

As he walked the street of silk, he kept thinking about what he wanted to tell her, trying to find the words to explain to her that he was sorry, that he understood if she didn’t want to be with him ever, but that he was still hoping for her forgiveness, since she knew how complicated his relationship with his brother was.

He knocked on the door, Sylvi opening it as he thought, looking at him hostilely

“What are you doing here, my prince”

“You know what I’m doing here, I want to speak with her”

“You hurt her, deeply, I don’t know if she wants to see you”

“Just…just ask her, please? I will leave if she does not want to speak with me”

Madame Sylvi looked at him one last time, before moving towards the rooms upstairs, allowing him to enter the brothel.

She came back a while back, telling him that he can go talk to her, but also to be quick, she didn’t want to give him too much time, she was very hurt by his actions.

He went upstairs, anxious and excited, wanting nothing more than explaining to her, his heart beating fast and hard in his chest at the thought of seeing her sweet face again.

His sweet girl, sited on the bed, a book between her hands, looking beautiful with the sun light, certainly different from the candlelight he was used to

“Good morrow, I know my visit is…unexpected, but I had to come, I had to talk to you”

“Good morrow, talk then, but make it quick, I will have to get ready for work soon, I have clients to take care of”

“Clients? I thought you weren’t fully working at the brothel, I don’t understand”

“After what happened that night, your brother’s guard told everyone how good I was, so a lot of men asked for me and Madame couldn’t refuse them, so now I work full time”

“I’m sorry, sweet girl, I really am, I didn’t want to treat you in such a way” he walked towards her, sitting slowly on the bed besides her, taking her hands on his and leaving some kisses on them “I swear I wish I said something that night, but my pride took the best of me; my brother was there, mocking me like he did when we were children, I couldn’t stay any longer.

Forgive me, sweet girl, you’re the only one I didn’t wish to hurt that night, yet you’re the one who suffered for my lack of temperament”

She stayed there, their hands still entwined, listening to his pleadings, wondering what was the best thing to do, reminding herself that he hurt her deeply, but also that he loved this man so much, that she couldn’t stay away from him any longer.

She kissed him while he was still talking, needing to feel his lips on hers once again, his hands on her once again, his cock deep inside her, feeling her to the brim with his seed, making her his and his only.

As he thrusts inside her, hips snapping, his hands kneading the soft flesh of her hips, they never felt so good in their life, so at peace, so happy.

They kissed and bit and marks each other, and in Aemond’s mind, the only thought was that she was his and he wasn’t going to let any man take her from him, the only good thing in his life.

She was his sweet girl, only his.

#aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond oneshot #sapphiresandferraris

2K notes · View notes

the-monstermash · 3 months ago

Text

UNBROKEN BETROTHALS pt. 3

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Synopsis: After running away from an unwanted proposal, you find yourself working in a brothel as a cook. When a certain guest takes an odd liking to you, secrets are revealed and betrothals unbroken

Warnings: Angst, Brothels, Mature, 18+, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language

Word Count: 2, 031

> A/N: Catch the corny tie-in at the end of the chapter. I think maybe one more chapter will wrap up this story.

You were in a bout of disbelief. You'd not left your room in days, taking your meals and guests in the rooms. Sylvi was obviously angry with you, because she’d said nothing about you not cooking. She likely had already hired a new cook to replace you, no doubt planning to kick you out the moment you stepped outside again. Where would you go? Back to the Riverlands was always an option, but you were afraid of what you might find if you returned.

How could you not be? Your entire life you had thought of your parents as betrayers. You'd thought they'd wished to sell you off to some disgusting man, to rid themselves of the burden of you. In reality, what choice had they truly had? To reject the king would be dishonorable, not to mention impossible. They would’ve had to respond immediately, to agree in your stead.

How could you ever think so lowly of them? They'd given you so much love in your youth, how would they ever do something so cruel if they'd had the choice not to? Were they heartbroken at the loss of a daughter? Did they think you dead? Or did they accept that you just didn't want to be with them anymore, and you'd left for a better life. Were they still looking for you? You didn't know which was worse.

And then there was Aemond.

Why had he cared so much? You were of no great house, and your marriage would be of no benefit to him. Your running away should've been to his relief, not his anger. Then, for him to track you down, and push his intentions on you. What was the purpose?

The knock on the door did not make you rise from the bed as it would've a week ago, and you did not call to the visitor like you would've a week ago. Instead, you waited for whoever it was to either let themselves in, or go away. You'd be happy with either one.

The creak of the solid door told you they'd chosen the former.

"Are you awake?" Lauryn's voice pulled a sigh from you.

She'd come with more questions, or to gossip about what was happening outside of your room.

"If I was not before, your presence has brought me a sense of invigoration." You smiled sadly, patting the bed for her to enter.

She stepped inside the room, but did not cross the distance. Her absence in the door frame was filled with another. A much taller, blonder, guest, that put much more dread in you than she had.

"Lauryn, what is this?" You sat up, crossing your arms and pulling the blankets up to cover your nightclothes. He stepped into the center of the room, hands behind his back, looking around to take in the sight.

"He's demanded to see you." We can not deny him, is what she said with her eyes. You nodded at her and she quickly fled the room, closing the door behind her.

The silence was not comfortable, nor was it unwelcome. You knew if he spoke, it would be about the betrothal, and that would make you think of your family, and you would be back to worrying for your dear family and how they were fairing. You felt so vulnerable, wrapped up in your blankets and nightclothes before him, all alone.

"My prince, you wanted to see me?" You propped your knees to your chest, sure you looked like a big pile of sheets with a head on top to him.

"I wanted to see you were well." He finally took his eyes off your meager decorations, and looked at you. "Have you had any more spells?" You shook your head.

"I'm quite well."

"And have you thought any more of my words?" You sighed, exasperated, but relenting to the fact that he simply would not let this go.

"Of course I have. It's all I've thought about, holed up in this room. That, and where I'll go once Sylvi casts me from my home. Because of you." You wanted to yell, but you just did not have the energy.

"Me?"

"If you'd just accepted my answer, she would have gotten past it. But you pursued, and chased, and you would not relent."

"I'd relented the first time you rejected me, how many rejections did you expect I would take?"

"Relenting would've been leaving me be, not seeking me out here when you knew I was content."

"I did not come here for you, you happened to be here." You rolled your eyes.

"I *happened* to be in a kitchen, hidden away from everyone where *you* found me in search of 'wine’? There was wine everywhere up front, it is a whore house! You knew I was here, and you found me, because you could not accept the rejection. You sought me out, you said so yourself." He blanched at you repeating his words to him. Perhaps he thought you did not remember your last conversation.

"So I sought you out. What is the crime in it? You were my betrothed, and I would not have you running about the world any longer. I demand to know why you rejected me so long ago, and why you reject me now. I am more than suitable for you, and you should have been proud to serv-"

"I did not know it was you!" You silenced him with your yell. "I did not run away from marrying you, I ran away...because I thought my parents were to send me off to some gray man I did not know, and force me to wed him, and I would spend my whole life with some old Lord who did not love me, and I would never live! I was a child, and I was afraid, Aemond."

He was silent for a moment, before sighing and coming to sit at the edge of your bed.

"And why do you refuse me now?"

"I guess I thought if I married you, then I might as well have married the first man. It would've saved me a lot of trouble, and made my family proud, at the very least." He nodded at that and looked away. "Why do you want me so badly?"

He tilted his head, thinking for a second before shrugging his shoulders. You scoffed at that and stretched your legs to leave room for your crossed arms, not believing that he was just pointlessly pursuing you.

"I've had enough rejection for one lifetime. I'll not have any more." It was a simple answer, and given the past you knew of him, you supposed it made sense. He'd been refused a dragon, friends, a father, a crown. You could see how when you, a simple girl from nowhere, rejected him, it might have confounded him, and tipped him over the edge. He seemed deep in thought, or perhaps deep in memory, and before your eyes you saw him regress into the young boy he'd been, when all he knew was hurt and rejection.

In a way, you pitied Aemond. He had led a sad life, but he'd also led a privileged life. and that privileged life often made people overlook the hurt he'd faced as a child. He was a prince, and that made him revered and respected in many aspects, but he was also a scared, hurt little boy, with no respect from his peers and no one to truly turn to.

"I suppose I can understand that." He turned to you, his lips turning up in acknowledgement before he gently laid his head in your lap.

It surprised you, though it shouldn't have. He was desperate for appreciation and affection. That was why he was here, after all, begging you to reconsider marriage to him.

You had reconsidered it over these past few days. You'd thought it over in a hundred different ways, and truthfully, without the added angst of your parental situation, you really had no reason to say no to his proposal. He was a perfectly respectable husband, and with his doting nature, you'd thought he'd treat you quite well. You could see yourself content with him, if not happy.

"I suppose marriage wouldn't be so bad if my husband were agreeable." You gently found yourself petting his hair, making him close his eye.

"Hm." Was his simple answer, a hum of content, yet it prompted you to elaborate.

"He would have to be kind, of course. And perhaps handsome, though not superficial. I would like him to be strong, and brave. Though, not to the point of recklessness. Perhaps a Stark." You looked down at him with a playful smile, and he responded with a chortle. "You're right, I do hate the cold." You scratched at his scalp.

"You'll make an exceptional wife, and I'll make you happy." He turned onto his back so he was looking up at you, his soft eyes gazing up at you.

He truly was beautiful. His features were in total opposition, his long, soft hair, sharp jaw, and sweet eyes all combined to make a statuesque deity laid before you. His hair was almost pearlescent in the way the fire flickered across him, changing the hues in a second, and blending in oranges and reds and magnificent yellows.

You could not think of a way to tell him you were conceding, and he'd finally won. You just smiled down at him and nodded.

"I need to see my parents." Your voice broke at the mere idea, and he nodded immediately, sitting up and turning to hold your face.

"I'll see it's done. We'll call them to King's Landing."

"Thank you, Aemond.”

He tilted himself just slightly, enough for you to understand what he was asking for. You leaned in enough to meet your lips to his in a soft and gentle kiss. You rest your hand on his jaw, and the other on his chest. He pushed himself against you more to deepen the kiss, pushing you back onto your hands.

His kiss was desperate, and held an air of pure satisfaction. It was not overly rushed, but deep and passionate. You could feel him pour his soul into it, like a beautiful piece of poetry. Every suckle was a sonnet, every sigh a sestina. He pulled your body to his, and it was a haiku, consisting of syllables only spoken in physical language. And you hung onto every single word.

You pulled away for air, but he didn't let you get far, holding his hand to the back of your head, your forehead pressed against his. Your bodies still moved in sync, rising and falling with breath, slowly calming yourselves back down.

"We'll marry as soon as your parents arrive. The very same day."

"Shouldn't you ask the king? I’m sure your family won’t relish the thought of a prince marrying a common cook. You could marry at a much higher advantage for the war."

"There is nothing common about you. And besides, my father already approved the marriage all those years ago. My brother won't deny me." You nodded.

"I'll see you again? Before the wedding? Promise you'll come see me." He raised his eyebrow at that, clearly confused about something you'd said.

"You're coming to the castle with me, are you not, my Lady?" The title made you chew your lip, you had not heard it in a very long time. “I’ll not have my wife sleep in a brothel any longer, I’ve suffered it long enough.”

“This brothel is my home, and you’ve had no trouble turning in a night or two if I remember correctly. Besides, I wouldn’t want to offend your family by assuming I was welcome. You should confirm the betrothal first with the king.” He sighed and turned away, but came up with no argument.

“I’ll be back for you, in a week’s time-at most. Say your goodbyes, pack your things. Prepare to be a princess of the seven kingdoms.” He stood and leaned for one last kiss.

“I’ll be waiting, my prince.”

And with one more lasting stroke of your cheek, he left to unbreak the betrothal you’d abandoned so long ago.

@mamawiggers1980 @dahlias-and-marigolds @starrflowerr @aemondwhoresworld

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen smut #unbroken betrothals

258 notes · View notes

dolicekiss · 4 months ago

Text

House of the Dragon Masterlist

all about the targaryen men (of course the irresistibly hot bastards as well) enjoy readin!

SILVER SOBS — Aemond Targaryen X Reader

Synopsis: After the terrifying battle which took place at Rook’s Rest, Aemond’s lust for power had still not subsided despite burning his own brother, the king of Westeros. He arrives at King’s Landing with one thing in mind; to claim everything that belongs to his brother which included — you, his sweet dear sister. The Queen.

FROM FRIEND TO FOE — Aemond Targaryen X Reader

Synopsis: Aemond and you were childhood friends, you being the daughter of a lord and him being the Targayen prince. When the Greens and Blacks went against each other, your father’s sworn fealty to the blacks became an obstacle in your friendship and when your father was defeated, army overthrown — you were taken prisoner, kneeled before the Targaryen prince who was once your closest friend.

APPLE OF THEIR EYE — Aemond x reader x Aegon

Synopsis: Being close to both your Targaryen brothers had its own perks. Drinking wine together, going horse riding and reading books. It was all a dream but when Aegon heard the talk of your betrothal, he decided it was finally time to taint you. What you didn’t expect was Aemond walking in on you indulging in your older brother’s sickly pleasures.

part two tagged here

A DEBT — Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Sypnosis: Aemond could never forget that you had taken his eye out, so when you both cross paths at Storm’s End, he demands for what was taken from him. Things went haywire when a sneak attack lead you to fall from your dragon and be swallowed by the large waves. Only that you didn't die, as Aemond finds you and saves you. With nowhere to take you, the prince takes you to a brothel hoping Sylvie would keep you safe there. Little did be know, a beautiful girl such as yourself was not a thing to be put in a brothel.

CAMERAS & CASH — Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Sypnosis: When Aemond finds you with your fingers deep inside your cunt, sprawled in front of a computer, he realizes his roommate is a camgirl in need of cash. He offers you money, in exchange for your time and attention while setting one rule in front of you; never turn off your location. But you exactly end up doing that.

154 notes · View notes

isuckatwritingsobenice · 10 months ago

Text

Pearls.

Synopsis: Raising a child was the hardest thing a mother could do, especially alone.

A/n: I was listening to Pearls by Sade and thought of Alastor’s mother, so I decided to write about it because I feel like no one talks about how much of a godsend that woman is. Everyone’s always talking about Alastor and the reader, or Alastor this and Alastor that , we need to thank the woman who gave us Alastor. (Vivziepop) HIS MOMMA THE SWEETEST WOMAN IN NEW ORLEANS LOUISIANA DAMNIT, anyways hope you guys enjoyed :)

Pearls by Sade

Warnings: Mentions of Cheating, mentions Racism, typical 1900’s - 1930’s stereotypes, NOT AN ALASTOR X READER, just a background one-shot on Alastor and his Momma because we need more of them out here

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

There is a woman in Somalia

Scraping for pearls on the roadside

There's a force stronger than nature

Keeps her will alive

Sylvie tried her hardest. She was raising a son on her own, working anywhere she could. Lord knew things weren’t easy, but what was? Life was hard, and it wasn’t going to go soft on Sylvie just because of her newborn son. If someone would have told her a year ago the man she fell in love with would have left her with a child, she’d have incense all over her all the time.

Alastor’s father was not a bragger. In fact, he hid Sylvie as best as he could. Giving her money every week by midnight, enough to keep her mouth shut, though she would never tell anyone, but not enough money to last her and her son. Babies were expensive, and things were only becoming worth more and more money. Who in their right mind would hire a black woman to work for them? Hell, even showing her face was a bit risky, the only reason she hadn’t been thrown into jail was because of her son. Though she didn’t like admitting this fact.

She dressed in her best clothes, shined her shoes and kissed her son goodbye, leaving him with her most trusted support, her mother. Sylvies mother knew of her, frivolous activities, to say the least. But, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be there for her daughter any less. Sylvie tried her best to straighten her hair, despite her mother’s warnings not too. She needed to look pretty, tamed, and well kept. Having her large fro wouldn’t land her a job anywhere. She needed to look her best, even if it came off as a desperate attempt to survive. But she needed too.

She stands in front of the mirror, brushing her now straight head of hair as carefully as she could. A red hat sitting perfectly on her hair, her long beige skirt stopping just below her knees. Her long sleeve white shirt embellished with a perfect pearl necklace. Ironically, it wasn’t hers, but her mother’s. Her father had worked hard to get enough money to gift it to her mother. She sighed, mentally hoping that she got this job. It was hardly anything, fifty cents an hour. If she worked every day for a week, four hours the way the ad in the paper said, then she’d have ten dollars a week. With the money from Alastor’s father, that left her with thirty five dollars. The heat alone was forty dollars. She’d be five short, but thankfully living with her mother made things a bit, easier.

“Are you leaving in time?” Sylvie’s mother asks. She stands in the doorway with the small child in her hands, gently rocking him. He’s silent, soft snores flowing through Sylvie’s ears and she smiles. She walks toward her mother, away from the mirror and stops. She reaches out slowly, and her mother gently hands the child to her. She takes her son in her hands and smiles, turning away from her mother while slowly rocking her son. Her mother reaches forward to close the door quietly, letting Sylvie have her time with her son. Sylvie smiles down at him, sitting at the edge of her bed slowly.

“I’ll give you the best life I can.” She whispers, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I promise.”

This is how she's dying

She's dying to survive

Don't know what she's made of

I would like to be that brave

By the time Alastor was five he knew how to read and write fluently. He could read books for days and knew all the latest dances as Sylvie made it her priority to make him versatile. She wanted her son to be the best little man he could, well, little now at least.

“I don’t get it. Romeo was in love with every girl he saw.” Alastor said, adjusting his skeeters to look at her better. She stood at the stove, sliding peppers, onions and a few other spices into the pot in front of her. It had been two years since her mother passed, and she stayed in her house with Alastor, wanting to raise him around love. She knew her mother was looking down on them, and one day, hoped to be with her too.

“Honey, stories aren’t for you to understand. They’re just there to make you think.” She says, swiping her hands over the pot after putting the cutting board down. She smiles and turns to him, stopping her movements. She pinches his cheek before smiling. “From the looks of it, seems like it has you thinking too.” She says, before letting go to walk to the sink. Alastor follows behind her quickly, still speaking.

“Maybe, I’m not sure. Do you think they deserved to be together?” Alastor asked, before Sylvie shrugged, letting the cold water hit her hands. She cleans her hands off, shutting the water quickly before wiping her hands on her towel tucked neatly into the waistband of her apron.

“I think they deserved to be happy, and if that means the two of them being in love then, yes.” Sylvie says, perking up at the music flowing through the radio. Though fairly new, the small box was her favorite thing in the world, and raising Alastor with that love almost made it feel genetic. “Oh look honey, our song is on.” Sylvie says, turning the volume up a bit. Suddenly, Alastor begins dancing quickly in his place, and as Sylvie turns back to him, she finds herself laughing, watching her son dance his heart out all on his own, albeit a bit odd, but he was having fun, and that was what mattered. She danced her way back over to him, holding her hands out for him to grab, which he did, happily spinning around his mother with laughter.

“Oh the food!” Sylvie said through her laughs, walking back over to the pot while Alastor continued to dance until the songs end. He sits on the floor, watching his mother stir the pot, fixing his skeeters.

“What’cha making?” Alastor asked, standing on his tip-toes to see, leaning against the counter.

“Jambalaya.” She said with a wink.

She cries to the heaven above

There is a stone in my heart

She lives a life she didn't choose

And it hurts like brand new shoes

Alastor was eight years old when Sylvie found out his father was married to another woman. He was eight years old when the woman showed up to their home, her two kids with her. He watched the woman yell at his mother in their doorway, her kids behind her as they observed Alastor standing behind his mother.

“You filthy slut! Sleeping with my husband! How dare you?!” The woman screamed, jabbing her finger into Sylvie’s chest. She was in tears, embarrassed, confused, heartbroken and ashamed.

“I didn’t know! He didn’t tell me anything! I never knew you were married or even had kids!” Sylvie defended, an arm in front of Alastor to shield him from her. The woman stoped, looking at Alastor with disgust, before dread washed over her.

“Don’t tell me that boy is his…” She trailed off, voice getting quieter. Sylvie said nothing, turning to Alastor with a sad smile, teary eyed.

“How about you go, go to the sitting room. Okay?” She asked quietly, giving him her best smile. He nodded, giving the woman and her children one more look, before listening to his mother. Once he was out of earshot, Sylvie turned back to the woman and sighed. “Yes, that is his son. He doesn’t come to see us, and he never has.” Sylvie said, before looking at the woman’s children, a boy and a girl. Both were pale, with light blue eyes and lighter hair to match their mother. The boy looked more like Alastor’s father, and Sylvie couldn’t deny the way it hurt to look at him, so she looked away. “He doesn’t come here anymore. I haven’t seen him since I told him I was pregnant. That was eight years ago.” Sylvie said. The woman’s eyes widened.

“Eight years ago?” She asked in a whisper. Sylvie said nothing, smiling at the two kids.

“Please don’t let this tear your home apart.” Sylvie said, her heart going out to the woman’s children. “They don’t deserve that. It was in the past and I-… I’ve moved on.” Sylvie said, though it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. In truth, she had been jumping from job to job at night, while homeschooling Alastor during the day. Paying for good paper, school books. It was bad enough she had been wearing the same clothes for years, only spending money on Alastor. His clothes were larger than him, it was easier to buy them bigger so she didn’t need to keep wasting money on out-grown clothes.

“I see…let’s go children.” The woman said, putting her hands on the children’s shoulders and guiding them down the porch steps, which had been rotting away slowly due to the old wood. When they were finally out of sight, Sylvie shut the door, sighing with a heavy heart. She walked through the halls of the home and to the sitting room, finding Alastor sitting in silence, looking down at his hands, radio playing softly in the background.

“Hey honey.” Sylvie said softly, the boys head looking at her quickly.

“Hi momma.” He said quietly. She gave him a sad smile and sat down next to him.

“You okay?” She asked, and he just sat in silence again, looking down at his hands.

“Who was that?” Alastor asked, and Sylvie just sighed. She knew one day she would have to tell him, but so soon? Sylvie took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on Alastor’s questioning eyes. “Alastor, those children… they’re your father’s, and that woman is their mother,” she began gently, choosing her words with care. “Your father and I share a past that happened before you came into this world. It’s a complicated story, and I’ve been doing my best to shield you from it, wanting to give you a chance at a simpler life.” She paused, gauging his reaction before continuing, “Their family is a part of your history, and while I’ve moved on, it seems the past has a way of catching up with us. I want you to know that whatever happens, we face it together, as a family. You’re the most important thing in my life, Alastor, and nothing will change that.”

Hurts like brand new shoes

There is a woman in Somalia

The sun gives her no mercy

The same sky we lay under

Burns her to the bone

Alastor was ten when the topic of his father came up again. It was after Sylvie and him had come back from groceries. Sylvie was still working multiple jobs at night, leaving at eight once Alastor was tucked into bed and sound. She had begun to sell some of her things, he was growing quicker now. He was up to her shoulder, and he was only ten. Sylvie was average height, five feet and four inches, with Alastor at five feet and two inches. His hair was getting straighter the more he grew, his tight curls softening into looser ones, but still made him handsome nonetheless.

Walking up the stairs to the porch, Sylvie and Alastor stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing two children, around his age, sitting on their front porch chairs, plates of hot food in their hands. Sylvie had remembered them instantly, the boy especially looking like Alastor’s father.

“Hello. May we help you..?” Sylvie asked carefully, Alastor staring the two children down. The girl just frowned and looked to the ground, while the boy stood up. He was the same height as Alastor too.

“We wanted too… speak with you Miss..?” The boy questioned, unsure of Sylvie’s name. She lied on the spot, giving him some dumb white name instead of her own.

“Adam’s.” She said quickly. Alastor said nothing, but his face said it all as he watched his mother open the door to their home, paper bags in hand. Alastor held the rest, all the while staring at the young boy and girl. “Would you like to come in?” She asked the children, and the boy shook his head.

“No thank you Ms. Adam’s, we just wanted to ask you something. Is that alright?” The boy asked. Sylvie nodded slowly, opening the door wider for Alastor to step in. Alastor stood behind Sylvie, curiously watching.

“Oh alright, just a moment please then.” Sylvie said with a small smile, and the boy nodded back to her. Sylvie shut the door, and Alastor turned on his heel to the kitchen.

“Momma, are those the kids you told me about?” He asked, knowing Sylvie, his mother, had given him bits and pieces of his father’s history, his children and life. Sylvie said nothing until the two got to the kitchen, placing the groceries on the counter. Sylvie gave Alastor a thoughtful look, uncertainty clouding her features. "I'm not sure, honey. They didn't mention the reason," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of worry. "It seems they're here with questions or concerns. I'll find out when I talk to them." Alastor, sensing his mother's concern, stepped closer to her. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her in a reassuring hug. Sylvie embraced him back, the shared warmth a silent acknowledgment of their unbreakable bond.

"Alright, Momma. Let me know if you need me," Alastor said, offering his support as Sylvie prepared to face the unexpected visit from his half-siblings. Alastor stood in the kitchen, putting groceries away per Sylvie’s request. Sylvie steps back outside, nodding to the two children.

“So, what can I help you with?”

Long as afternoon shadows

It's gonna take her to get home

Each grain carefully wrapped up

Pearls for her little girl

Alastor moved away from home when he was eighteen, going to New York to pursue his career in journalism. Sylvie supported him fully, saving money every month since he was thirteen for the occasion. She’d have him read her the paper while she made dinner, listening to him talk and perfect his voice.

Recently for his birthday, Sylvie had taken him to see a play. Romeo and Juliet, the first ever ‘complex’ book he’d read, so naturally it was only right his first play follow the same format right?

“Take care of yourself for me, okay honey?” Sylvie asked as she stood at the station with Alastor. He just smiled down at her, watching her dust off his shoulders and straighten his tie.

“I will, don’t worry about me, please.” He said with a smile, allowing her to fix his hair and shift his skeeters, knowing it was just her nerves.

“You know I can’t help it.” She said with a soft smile, hearing the train horn go off again. “Go, before you miss your train.” She said quickly, stepping on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek before stepping away. To her surprise, her son, who usually truly disliked anyone touching him, embraced her. She smiled and patted his back softly, trying her hardest not to cry right there. “Write me when you get there.” Sylvie said, and Alastor just nodded.

“Love you momma.” He said quietly to her, before he pulled away, a bright smile back on his face. “I’ll write you as soon as I get to the city.” He said, and Sylvie nodded. Watching her son get on the train and leave, adorned in his best suit, brand new as Sylvie had saved so much for it just for this moment.

Sylvie returned home that day, walking into her now empty home with tears in her eyes. She went to her bedroom, opening a small box out from under her bed. Tears streamed down her face as she opened the box, picking up a small bottle from inside, popping the cork off and tracing her finger along the rim. Then, quietly, she spoke to herself.

“s'il vous plaît, ancêtres, protégez-le aussi longtemps que vous le pouvez” ( “please ancestors, protect him for as long as you can”)

In the bustling city of New York, Alastor found that it was a bit easier to land a job, though not much, it was a start. He settled into the fast-paced rhythm of city life, immersing himself in the world of news and media. Soon enough, he climbed his way to the top, changing his accent and becoming so well known his mother listened to his broadcast everyday.

Back home, Sylvie eagerly awaited Alastor’s letters, cherishing every word that bridged the distance between them. The letters became a lifeline, a way for mother and son to stay connected despite the miles.

As Alastor navigated his way through the competitive world of journalism, he found success, but the city’s relentless pace also brought its own set of trials. He was a mixed man, people did not take kindly to that fact. But status meant more than anything and he had the money to get by. With each triumph and setback, he continued to write to Sylvie, sharing his experiences and seeking comfort in her unwavering support.

Their bond, though physically stretched, remained unbroken.

Hallelujah

Alastor was twenty three when he came back home. He had gotten a transfer and began to host his show in Louisiana. Living with his mother hadn’t been a difficult adjustment. In fact, to Alastor, it felt like things had fallen right back into place. Until it hadn’t. As Alastor grew, the shadows of both the roaring twenties and the practice of voodoo cast their complex hues over their lives. Sylvie, a practitioner of voodoo, had passed down the sacred traditions to her son, weaving a tapestry of mysticism and heritage into the fabric of their existence.

In moments of desperation, Alastor found himself drawn to the potent rituals he had learned from his mother. The voodoo practices, once a source of connection and understanding, became a tempting tool to manipulate circumstances in his favor. Alastor, in the pursuit of success and happiness, began using the ancient arts for personal gain, delving into a darker side of the mystic practices.

Sylvie, sensing her son's divergence from the righteous path of voodoo, couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. Yet, beneath her disapproval, a mother's unwavering love persisted. She yearned for Alastor's happiness, even if it meant witnessing him tread on ethically murky grounds. Sylvie grappled with the conflict between her teachings and her maternal instincts, understanding that her son's choices were his own to make. However, it was easier to ignore things when the shadows around her home didn’t taunt her, despite her son’s warnings to them. Often times, she’d find him tracing symbols onto his hand during a conversation with someone, always behind his back as he spoke. She’d find small towers made of sticks her backyard sometimes, hanging around tree’s and something’s hiding in bushes. She said nothing, deciding it was his choice, but she’d always cleanse her area, and began to beg the spirits to lead her son in the right direction.

Their home, once a haven of warmth, now harbored the echoes of decisions made in pursuit of desires. Sylvie, despite disapproving of Alastor's misuse of voodoo, remained a steadfast pillar of support. For a mother's love, resilient and unconditional, transcended the boundaries of right and wrong. The tangled threads of voodoo, jazz, and maternal love wove together in the backdrop of their lives, creating a narrative of complexity and nuance.

Hallelujah

It was when Sylvie fell ill that Alastor had begun to change his ways, or partially. Becoming bedridden, Sylvie could no longer do things. Her son had grown into a well respected man, one she loved and cherished so much. But, she feared her time was coming soon and thus could no longer keep him safe anymore. He had done so well as an adult, he made something respectable out of himself. He became someone. Her biggest hope for him had come true, he had made a name for himself, left his mark on the world through radio. She was so proud of him.

In Sylvie’s final days, Alastor found himself torn between the guilt of his previous actions and the desire to make amends. The echoes of the past whispered in his ear, urging him to rectify the missteps that had strained the sacred bond between mother and son. He knew his mother disapproved of the way he used her teachings, but it wasn’t easy living in the world, fighting to make ends meet and fighting for respect.

One evening, as the dim light of a fading sunset painted Sylvie’s room, Alastor made a silent vow to honor his mother’s teachings. With a heavy heart, he delved into the mystic arts not to manipulate fate, but to seek guidance and help. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows as Alastor immersed himself in the rituals he had once misused. He had tried everything, saving money for the best medication, home remedies, having specialists see her, everything.

As Sylvie’s condition worsened, Alastor found solace in being by her side, tending to her needs with a newfound tenderness. The past haunted him, yet the present held the opportunity for redemption. In caring for his ailing mother, Alastor discovered a profound connection that transcended the barriers of time and choices made.

The world outside continued to applaud Alastor’s radio success, unaware of the internal transformation transpiring within him. Sylvie, weakened but perceptive, observed the change in her son with a quiet pride. As Sylvie lay in her bed, the fragility of life evident in her every breath, Alastor approached with a mixture of reverence and regret. The room was adorned with flickering candles, casting an ethereal glow that danced on the walls.

“Mother, I… I’ve come to seek your guidance.” Sylvie, her eyes conveying a deep understanding, nodded weakly.

“Honey, my time here is waning. But I feel a shift within you. Talk to me, what’s wrong?” She asked, tightening her grip on her son’s hand. Alastor hesitated, the weight of his past actions pressing upon him.

“I’ve used the mystic arts for my own gain, tarnished their sanctity. I’ve tried everything to help you- I… I tried so much.” He said, at a loss for words. Silent tears bordered his eyes, Sylvie, though weakened, managed a gentle smile. “I should have listened more, learned more. I should’ve been better.” He said frustrated, angry tears slipping from his eyes and down his cheeks. He looked down, skeeters fogging as he fought his tears, holding onto his mother so tight and afraid to let go. “Is this my fault?” He asked quietly.

“No, never dear.” Sylvie said shaking her head softly. “I know you tried your best. All will be okay. I taught you well, raised a good man. You will get everything you want and more in this life, I promise you.” She said weakly, coughing a bit with the tissue in her hand. Finally she calmed down, speaking again. “The world is a stage. Make it your own.” She said smiling at him, and he just chuckled. She sighed and spoke again. “Life is a tapestry, my love. We learn, we grow. I know you are hurting.” She said, placing her hand weakly on his chest, but she continued. “I know you missed out on so much. So much I tried to give you, but you turned out so wonderful, so special. You did not disappoint, and I would do it all again to love you dear.” She said, hand cradling his cheek. “Don’t stop living when I’m gone.” She said to him, and he nodded, teary eyed, holding onto her hand.

“I love you momma.” He said, smiling sadly as he cried to her. Sylvie just smiled back, tears welling in her own eyes as she held onto him. She sat up slowly, beckoning Alastor to lean closer. She placed a kiss on his forehead with shaky hands, pulling away with a smile.

“I love you too honey.” She whispered.

As Sylvie’s final breaths approached, Alastor held her hand, seeking solace in the fragile yet profound connection they had forged. The room, filled with the scent of candles and the soft strains of jazz, became a sanctuary for a son bidding farewell to his guiding light.

The final moments with Sylvie became a sacred passage, where Alastor whispered words of love and gratitude, promising to carry forward the legacy she had bestowed upon him. As the room filled with a bittersweet melody of jazz playing softly in the background, Alastor prepared to face a world without his guiding light, determined to walk a path worthy of her memory.

She cries to the heaven above

There is a stone in my heart

She lives in a world she didn't choose

And it hurts like brand new shoes

Hurts like brand new shoes

#hazbin alastor #hazbin demon #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #human alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader

273 notes · View notes

squadmuse · 5 months ago

Text

GOOD TO SEE YOU

A MATT CASEY X F!READER FIC

A/N: So I’ve had this idea for a dad!Matt fic in my head for a while now and just had to get write it out ASAP… dedicated to the wonderful @deanstead - potentially could do a part two to this…

There was a soft breeze in the air as Matthew Casey walked along the familiar path to Firehouse 51.

He could see the four vehicles all parked. His old Truck 81 sat alongside the trucks of Engine 51 and Squad 3. Ambulance 61 sat on the far left, standing out against the red trucks and Matt couldn’t help the broad smile that instantly appeared upon his handsome face.

Even with the slight wind, not unusual for February in Chicago, he wasn’t bothered in the slightest as Matt was just happy to be back. Seeing the trucks and the ambulance all there made Matt wonder if it was a slow shift, even though he cursed himself internally for potentially jinxing the firefighters and paramedics. His old friends were family, not mere coworkers.

However, things were different now. He wasn’t Captain Casey of Truck 81 in the Chicago Fire Department anymore. Now he was Captain Casey with the Portland Fire Department out in Oregon. But the change was a good one in Matt’s eyes.

Now he wasn’t just a firefighter and Captain, now he was a husband. He was the foster father to Griffin and Ben Darden and the biological father to his own children, who were miracles in Matt’s eyes. It was one such miracle that pulled softly at his hand.

“Daddy?” asked Matt’s daughter Eleanor, her blue eyes looking up at him. His wife, her mother, always said that Matt and Elly, as she was known, had the same bright blue eyes. Everything else about Elly was her mother, in Matt’s opinion.

Looking down at his five-year-old daughter, Matt smiled warmly. “What’s up kiddo?” he asked softly. Elly smiled back widely, the little gap showing in her teeth, she was already growing up so fast. It was a double-edged sword to Matt as a father.

“When Auntie Sylvie marries Uncle Will, can we get ice cream?” asked Elly innocently. Matt chuckled. Like any other little kid, Elly Casey loved ice cream. Her current favorite was strawberry, which fit in with her obsession with everything pink.

“Well, we’ll need to see, buttercup, weddings can be busy,” replied Matt. “You’ll be a big part of the day, being a junior bridesmaid!”

Elly nodded excitedly. The near six-year-old had jumped up and down excitedly when her godmother had asked her to be in her bridal party. “I get flowers, Daddy!” she giggled, jiggling Matt’s arm around. She was a bundle of nonstop energy, not unlike her two brothers.

Matt noticed Elly looking around, and he couldn’t help the smile on his face. He couldn’t help but be so happy now, with everything he had ever wanted in life. “What are you up to, buttercup?” he asked, putting on what his wife called his dad tone.

“Nothing, Daddy! Will Emmy get flowers too?” asked Elly, looking up at him as she rubbed her cheek. Emmy was Elly’s younger sister, and the little three-year-old was currently snoozing softly in Matt’s arms. Emma Casey was his youngest child, and as he took each step as he walked, he could hear her soft breath against his ear and feel her soft blonde hair against his neck.

Matt nodded. “Yeah, Emmy will be getting some flowers too,” he replied to Elly. “Auntie Sylvie picked you both especially!” Elly smiled even wider.

“Mama says I have a pretty dress too, Daddy,” said Elly excitedly as she skipped alongside Matt, who smiled down at her. She was so innocent, so full of life and positive spirit.

“You will, that’s why we’re here early, Auntie Sylvie wants you and Emmy to get your dresses fitted nicely,” replied Matt as he shuffled Emmy a bit in his arms and up on his hip. His three-year-old grumbled a bit in her napping slumber, and Matt couldn’t help but smile warmly at her.

Elly hummed loudly. “Is it pink, Daddy?” she asked as Matt placed a kiss on Emmy’s head.

“I don’t think so, buttercup,” said Matt. He was pretty sure his wife had said Sylvie had chosen ivory bridesmaid dresses with silver ribbons for the two little girls.

Ella sighed dramatically. “Pink is much better, Daddy!” she exclaimed as Matt continued on his walk up the path into the firehouse. Matt was surprised to see the Squad table empty, and he saw that Elly also looked surprised.

Matt knew right away, as his daughter’s head looked all around, that she was looking for her godfather, Kelly. “Why don’t you find everyone for Daddy and Emmy?” He asked Elly, smiling as she nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, Daddy!” replied Elly, and just like that the five-year-old was running off to the rec room. Matt made sure to follow close behind her. She could be a real hurricane at times.

With Emmy in his arms, Matt followed Elly, making sure not to jostle Emmy awake or lose sight of Elly. “Eleanor Casey, don’t run!” called Matt. But she didn’t heed his warning as she ran right into the legs of one Wallace Boden.

“Little Eleanor Casey, my have you gotten big,” said Boden to Elly, who suddenly got shy and ran to grasp Matt’s hand again. The two men chuckled at her.

Looking down at Elly, Matt smiled. “Hey, you’re not a shy little girl are you, kiddo? Go give Uncle Boden a big hug,” he told her. Elly nodded shyly before she wandered back over to Boden, who picked her up as if she was nothing but air. Matt smiled as Elly started to come back out of her shell.

“Emmy is a little one now,” said Elly to Boden, who nodded before looking over Emmy, who was starting to wake up in Matt’s arms.

The battalion chief smiled. He was overjoyed that his old captain had found such happiness in life after everything he had gone through. “That she is, Elly,” replied Boden. “It’s very nice to see you both and your Daddy.”

“We live in Ogeon, not here,” commented Elly to Boden, facing him as she came more and more out of her shell. “I like it here!” she added, before asking to get down as she saw Emmy was now standing alongside their dad.

Boden chuckled a deep laugh at her words. “You’re a Chicagoan through and through, just like your old man,” he told Elly as she stood between him and Matt, who chucked to himself.

“I like Bears,” piped up Emmy, looking up at Matt and over at Boden and Elly. “Daddy watch them!” Matt smiled warmly, she was such a little sweetheart of a girl, his little Emma.

“That I do, sweetpea,” he said encouragingly, as she smiled. “We like to watch the game with Ben, Griffin and your big brothers, don’t we?”

Boden smiled as Emmy nodded before reaching up to be picked up again. Matt did so without question and held his little girl on his hip again.

“It’s good to see you, Casey,” he said to Matt.

“Good to see you too, Chief.”

#matt casey x reader #matt casey x oc #matt casey #chicago fire fanfic #chicago fire #chicago fire fic #dad!matt #dad!matt casey

85 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 1 year ago

Note

Hey! I love your writing could you please do a one shot of Joel just being a girl dad again in Jackson, like wrapping baby girl up in a burrito and he is terrible at it.

Ahhh Hi Bestie!

I love this ask so much. I'm such a sucker for soft Joel and dad Joel and Joel just doing the things he loves most, which is look after his girls. I hope this is what you're looking for <3

Girl Dad

Joel takes care of his newborn daughter, Sylvie. A Lavender one shot shared in honor of Doc's birthday, October 5.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender

Warnings: Mention of miscarriage. No use of y/n. 18+ only Minors DNI

Length: 2k

“Hey now,” Joel said, voice low and soothing as he held his newborn daughter against his chest, bouncing her gently in the dim light of the living room lamp. “You’re alright baby girl, we’re gonna let your mama rest, she needs to sleep after bringing you into the world.”

Sylvie, it seemed, didn’t care. Her sharp little cry kept going, her small body squirming with it. She’d eaten only an hour before so it shouldn’t be that. He’d checked her diaper once but that was clear. For a bit, being against his skin had seemed to help but she was back to her pained little wails.

Joel delicately pulled her from his chest, her tiny legs pulled up into her stomach, her dark hair in soft disarray on her impossibly small head. He checked her diaper again and, sure enough, this time it was wet.

“Well that explains it, huh baby girl?” He said softly. “C’mon, let’s get you changed…”

He crept back up the stairs, hoping that you were exhausted enough to sleep through her cries. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were. You’d been in labor less than 24 hours ago, your head on Joel’s chest as he held onto you. All he’d wanted was to be able to take some of the pain and the work from you, to make it so you weren’t the one hurting. All he could do was hold you to himself, press cool cloths to your skin, tell you how much he loved you, how amazing he thought you were. It hadn’t felt like nearly enough, especially not when Sylvie’s tiny body had been pulled from yours in all her soft perfection. How could he ever repay you when you’d given him what felt like the entire world?

Joel set the baby down on the makeshift changing table in her nursery and pulled off the soiled diaper before wiping her. She quieted, her eyes so big and deep, watching Joel’s every move.

“That’s better, huh?” He said softly, getting another diaper out.

This, he soon realized, was going to be a problem.

Not that he’d never changed a diaper. He’d changed plenty. He had almost no help with Sarah when she was an infant, burning through probably thousands of diapers before she was potty trained.

He just had never tried to use a cloth one. Especially not a cloth one that was homemade and required pinning into place. Joel arranged the fabric just so around his daughter, hoping it wasn’t too snug, and got out the safety pin. But he hesitated, looking down at the tiny, squirming child who he loved so much it was like someone had broken his heart open to make room for it all. He’d never tried to pin something on a baby before. Her skin was so soft and delicate, her whole being so small and fragile. What if he accidentally hurt her? What if she remembered that little hurt and hated him or feared diaper changes for the rest of her life? What if something, anything, he did ever caused her pain? What if he found a way to fail her, too?

Joel considered, for a half a second, bringing her to you. Sylvie had only existed outside of you for a few hours, you and the nurse who delivered her had been the only one to change her so far.

But you were exhausted and needed to rest and Joel needed to be able to change his daughter’s diaper.

“We’re gonna figure this out, you and me,” he said to her. She made a small, breathy little baby sound back at him. “It’s OK baby girl. I’ll take care of you. Always take care of you.”

He slowly, carefully, put the first pin in the diaper. No screaming, a good sign. He put in the rest and soon, Sylvie was clean and yawning, stretching her little arms out. Joel swaddled her and tucked the little bundle of her into his arms.

She seemed so impossibly small, like no human being had ever been this small. Even though he knew she was a full two ounces heavier than Sarah had been when she was born. But she was so tiny that every motion required conscious thought. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite so large, so potentially dangerous and accidentally violent, like if he held her a little too tight he would crush her. How could something so important, so vital, be bound up in such a fragile little package?

He carried her slowly, carefully, back down the stairs and walked in circles as she stared up at him, her long lashes brushing against her cheeks when she blinked.

“You should sleep too,” he said softly, bouncing her gently. “You had a big day today.”

She yawned, as if to prove his point, and he wondered if he’d ever loved a little yawn more.

He carried her through the living room until she started to fall asleep, her small face going slack.

He found himself remembering how you felt last fall. It was just a few days before your birthday and you were sitting at the kitchen table that morning, one hand on your mug of tea, the other resting over your lower stomach, thumb brushing the small swell that had appeared there the week before. Your eyebrows were drawn together, eyes lost in thought.

“Everything OK?” He asked, frowning, sitting beside you.

“What?” You asked, jumping a little, like you hadn’t even noticed him until he spoke.

“Just look a little…” he trailed off. “You alright?”

“Oh, yeah,” you waved him off. “Fine, I’m fine.”

“Baby,” he said gently. “Remember when I said we don’t do this? The thing where you say you’re OK when you’re not and won’t let me help you? What’s going on.”

You bit your lip, the thumb on the mug tapping against the ceramic before you sighed.

“I just…” you winced a little. “I don’t think I ever told you this but… when I lost our first baby, it was on my birthday…”

“Oh honey,” he pulled you close, pressing his lips to your temple, ignoring the surge of guilt that threatened to drown him whenever he thought about you, alone and afraid, at that time. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m about as far along now as I was then,” you said, looking down at your stomach to the small bump that no one but the two of you would notice. “What if it wasn’t what happened with Jessica and the guards? What if there’s something wrong with me and I can’t carry past this point? What if I lose them anyway? What if…”

“Baby,” Joel said gently, brushing your hair back. “It’s OK. If… if something happens this time, we’ll deal with it together. It will hurt but I’ll take care of you and we’ll have each other and Ellie and it’ll be OK.”

“I’m scared, Joel,” you said quietly, looking at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know if I can do that again and…”

“We don’t have any reason to think it’s going to,” he said. “But if it does, it’ll be different this time. You don’t have to do this alone. I promise.”

You nodded and leaned into him, tucking yourself against his chest.

He wanted to do something to make it better, something for the first birthday the two of you had been actually together and doing more than just trying to survive in more than 20 years.

Joel talked to Maria, Tommy and Ellie and put together a quiet dinner for the five of you, one filled with your favorite foods and even a small cake. He put on your favorite Beatles CD and got everyone on board with playing Clue. You laughed and danced with Maria and Ellie around the kitchen in your socks, sliding on the tile while Joel and Tommy smiled and watched through the back door as they stood around the grill.

It was after midnight when you fell into bed with Joel, stretching out as you lay flat on your back. Your hand was at your bump again and Joel’s hand met yours there, his fingers lacing with your own, his palm on one half of your stomach, yours on the other.

“We made it,” you smiled a little, more down at your bump than at Joel before you looked over at him. “Thank you for today. I seriously felt like my birthday was cursed, this is the first one I’ve really enjoyed in… well, 22 years?”

He moved closer to you, kissing your temple and stroking your hair.

“I really think it’s going to be OK Baby,” he said softly, watching you in the dark. “It feels right. Never had much in my life that did but this does and I think it’s going to be OK. Better than OK.”

You smiled a little and looked down at the bump.

“I’m starting to think so, too.”

It had turned out OK. So much better than OK. Absolutely perfect was asleep on his chest, just a tiny bundle made of you and him together. Even though it was hard to believe something so wonderful could have come from him at all.

“Hey,” Ellie shuffled in, looking groggy. “She OK?”

“She’s good,” Joel said softly. “Just tryin’ to get her nice and settled before heading back up, giving her mama a chance to rest.”

Ellie nodded, going to the kitchen and coming back with two glasses of water. She handed him one and he arranged the baby carefully before taking it.

“How’s it feel?” She asked, watching Sylvie. “Being a dad again after… well…”

Joel thought for a moment, looking down at his sleeping daughter. Even through all the love he had for her, for you, for Ellie, there was still the pain of loss. That Sarah would never meet her baby sister, never talk with her about boys or teach her one of the silly dances she and her friends used to choreograph in his living room. But it existed as a separate entity now, that pain. It could live alongside the fulfillment and happiness and overwhelming love he had now. There was room in him for all of it.

“It’s different,” Joel said after a minute. “But damn, I forgot how good some of this was. I’ll figure out the hard stuff when the time comes.”

Ellie smiled a little, taking a sip of water.

“Well, she’s a lucky kid,” she said. “You’re pretty good at figuring out the hard shit.”

He smiled a little at her.

“Thanks, Kiddo.”

The two of them went back upstairs, Ellie kissing her new little sister on the cheek before disappearing into her own room and Joel did everything he could to open the door to your room silently.

It didn’t matter, you were awake, smiling lazily from the bed.

“You’re supposed to be sleepin’,” he said softly.

“I have been. But I heard her crying,” you whispered. “I knew you had her, knew you’d take care of her.”

Joel smiled and climbed delicately into bed next to you, Sylvie still on his chest.

“Can I get you anything?” He asked quietly.

“No,” you shook your head but winced as you sat up ever so slightly, back supported by the headboard of the bed. “But can I take her for a bit? I miss her.”

“‘Course you can, Mama,” he said, carefully putting the baby on your chest. You smiled so big that Joel could see it in the dark, your teeth reflecting the moonlight. He came alongside you, pressing his lips to your bare shoulder, looking at his daughter in your arms. “She looks like you.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “She’s a few hours old, she doesn’t look like anyone yet.”

“She’s beautiful,” he said reverently. “She’s perfect. Only gettin’ that from you, Baby.”

You pulled your eyes away from her to look at him, stretching over ever so slightly to steal a kiss.

“Thank you for her, Joel,” you said softly. “I’m so glad we made it here.”

He looked at you and the child you’d made with him and wondered, for a moment, if he’d ever felt more complete than he had in this moment.

“Me too, Baby,” he said quietly. “Me too.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #kit answers #send asks #lavender #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x OC

337 notes · View notes

jamminvroomvroom · 1 year ago

Note

Sylvie asking you and George for a sibling

tell the stork

GR63 x journo!reader

a drabble from the george fic universe

thank you for the request! i loved this <3 now if someone could request them actually having another kid… lol

warnings: none! fluff! a bit of suggestiveness here and there but nothing severe, mentions of pregnancy/trying for a baby, minors pls dni with my work!

“i can’t believe he’s having a boy,” you cooed at the screen of your phone. “a little brother for jack.” tears welled up in your eyes as you saw messages of congratulations fill up the family whatsapp chat, the news of your brothers new baby creating emotional waves.

“i just saw, the family needs another baby to spoil.” george laughed.

he was sat on the floor with sylvie, all of her toys spilled over the rug. the four year old was small but mighty, making sure her dad spent every second of the off season at her side, not that george would have had it any other way.

“why don’t i have a brother?” the little girl huffed, her small arms crossing as her mousy brown tufts of hair fell over her george-blue eyes.

you and george looked at each other. you’d talked about having another kid, but the timing had been awful. you supposed the off season wouldn’t be the worst time to give it a try.

“would you like a baby brother or sister, sylvie?” george asked your daughter, bowing his head down to meet her level.

“yes! i need someone to play with while you and mummy vroom.” she replied, oh so matter of fact, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. she was so self assured, just like her father.

“well, maybe me and mummy can work on it.” george said, tongue in cheek. you shot him a look of warning. he needed to reign in that kind of humour, sylvie was too smart for her own good.

“we can talk to the stork.” you butted in, george tipping his head back in silent laughter.

“tell the stork i want a sister. boys are icky.” sylvie scrunched up her nose and your heart melted. she was so precious.

“that’s my girl.” george stuck his hand up for a high five, which sylvie enthusiastically reciprocated.

“now, put your toys away, sweetheart, it’s almost dinner time.” your husband clapped his hands together, ruffling sylvie’s hair and she was off, a ball of energy as she hoovered up her teddies.

“so,” george raised an eyebrow, raking his eyes over your frame. “when can we get to work on baby number two?”

“cook dinner and i’ll clear my schedule?” you bargained sweetly.

“anything for you, my love.” he agreed, clutching his chest dramatically.

“i promise i’ll make it worth your while.” you teased.

“do i get to name this baby, too?”

“no! you named the last one! it’s my turn.” you stuck your tongue out at him and he leaned down to kiss you on the forehead, trudging to the fridge in defeat.

175 notes · View notes

kellykidd · 1 year ago

Text

Baby Severide - Chapter 5: 51 Meets Baby

*Gif belongs to its rightful owner, it is not mine*

Pairing: Kelly Severide x reader

Summary: 51 has a slow day on shift and takes a road trip to Med… to meet Baby Severide

Words: 663

Warnings: hospitals

Read on Ao3 here

Next Chapter: Chapter 6

Notes: I wanted to post this earlier, but wanted to fulfill the request that spent almost a month sitting in my drafts. Also, yes, I am aware of how short this chapter is. The next one is longer, I promise. As always, a reblog of any chapter earns a tag in chapter posted after that! Enjoy!

Join my taglist here

Tags: @district447 @mrspeacem1nusone @tringeorge @storiesofsvu @cfdhouse51 @skullcupcakes @whatismypurpos @carnationworld @youraveragedorkysimp @treehouse-mouse @witchywinchester99 @keabbs @marvelcharactersxreader

——

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a cheerful knock at the door.

“Come in,” you announced.

Sylvie peeked her head in the room.

“Hey girl,” she laughed, “how you feeling?”

“I’m good,” you paused, “yeah, I’m okay.”

“Is now a good time? We’ve got some firefighters here who’d like to meet her.”

“I’ll let you meet her first.”

Coming over to the crib, Sylvie was in awe. You picked Alexis up and set her in Sylvie’s ready arms.

“What’s this babe’s name?” She asked, bouncing Alexis slightly.

“Alexis Shay Severide.”

“Aw, I love that. What did your mom think of you name your daughter after your sister?”

“She’s not so pleased, but she’ll get over it when she meets her. She’ll be here in a few days I hope.”

“She’ll fall in love with Alexis as soon as she meets her.”

Matt knocked on the door and came up behind Sylvie.

“Is this her?” Matt a sled, looking over at Kelly.

“This is her,” Kelly smiled back.

You began to tear up again as you watched Sylvie and Matt fall in love with Alexis. Kelly sat beside you and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“When’s your turn?” Kelly chuckled.

“One firehouse baby at a time,” Matt laughed, “we’ve been thinking about it though.”

“Matt do you want to hold her?” Sylvie asked.

Matt stuttered over his words before finally smiling and admitting, “I’ll absolutely take her.”

As Sylvie handed Alexis over, you and Kelly shared a look and a nod.

“What was that about?” Sylvie asked, gesturing to the nod she just witnessed.

“Kelly and I would like to ask you both if you’d be Alexis’ godparents,” you admitted.

Sylvie and Matt looked at each other, both speechless.

“Of course,” Matt answered.

Kelly stood up, leaning into Matt for a hug.

“Thank you, both of you,” Kelly said, pulling away from Matt and sitting in the chair beside you.

Joe poked his head in the door.

“Hey, Severide. Mind if I bring in a few more smoke eaters?” Joe asked.

“Not at all. Who’s here?” Kelly replied.

“Everyone. Chief took the firehouse out of service for an hour or two.”

A few moments later, all of 51 poured into your recovery room, the air swelling with love. Everyone took turns passing your baby around and asking how you were doing.

“How you feeling, Severide?” Herrmann asked.

“I’m still in shock, but it got a great wife to be able to be a great father.”

“No feeling like being a father. After every kid Cindy and I had, I was still in shock. That’s normal.”

“Thanks Herrmann.”

Boden walked over to you and Kelly, gaining to attention of the crowd.

“I hate to cut this party short, but HQ has requested a return to quarters,” he announced.

“C’mon Chief, Severide will only be a first-time dad once,” Cruz argued.

“I know, I know,” he sighed, “I’ll make Kelly bring the baby by 51 soon.”

Otis handed you back Alexis and gathered his gear from the corner.

“Congratulations to you both. Really is a special day. Bring this baby by the firehouse real soon, would you? She’s a great morale boost,” Boden chuckled.

“Thank you all for coming. It’s good to know she’s got a community looking out for her,” you responded, tearing up once again.

As your room emptied, you and Kelly had a few moments to yourself with Alexis. You handed Alexis to her daddy’s very capable hands and Kelly sat in your bed beside you.

“You know what baby?” Kelly told you.

“What’s up?”

“I’m really proud of you today. Thank you for bringing our daughter into the world today.”

“I can’t wait to bring her home with you tomorrow.”

There was a knock at the door and Dr Calhoun appeared.

“I was speaking with another physician about our next steps in terms of when I can discharge you, given how you’ve been doing,” she explained.

#kelly severide imagine #kelly severide fic #kelly severide x reader #kelly severide #chicago fire fic #chicago fire #chicago fire x reader #one Chicago #one chicago fic #Baby Severide fic #kelly severide x you

157 notes · View notes

glorixuspurpose · 1 year ago

Text

The Missing Link

loki x black!daughter!reader

“So…all of you are Lokis? Even that one?” He asks, pointing at the girl, who scowls at him and smacks his hand down.

“Yes…no…not really. We’re related..sort of, but obviously, I’m not him. He’s my-” She stops herself mid-sentence. “Wait, if you’re not a Loki, then why are you here, let alone with them? What was your nexus eve-”

“Stop yelling! You’re gonna alert him!” Kid Loki shouts, pointing at the dark cloud in the sky.

They continue to walk until they reach a circular door in the floor, presumably a bunker. Classic Loki opens it.

“Well?” Loki asks, still waiting on the girl’s answer.

“I killed him.” She finally answers, as she descends into the vault.

Something in his mind told it that it couldn’t be true. That girl looked familiar, too familiar, and he’s not one to forget faces.

“Wait, that can’t be true..” He mutters.

“Why can’t it be true?” She asks, mimicking his accent, as they all walk down to an area with a semicircle of chairs, with a small pool in the middle, probably for the alligator.

She was starting to get annoyed. “Why not?”

“Because…er..well, what’s your name?” He asks.

“Y/N.” She ever so quietly responds.

“Y/N…”He repeats to himself, as if trying to memorize it.

“Then…that can’t be true because..I’m your father.”

Y/N uncrosses her legs. “Woohoo. You finally figured it out. The last time you saw me was when I was more or less 5 years old, and Thor took you to see me. Honestly he was more of a father than you were, and honestly more than you ever will be.”

(time skip bc i can barely remember this episode lol)

“Sylvie…and Mobius? You guys came here?” Loki asks.

“Well some of us, not by choice, but for the most part, yeah.” Sylvie stays silent, then walks off.

“And who might you be?” Mobius asks Freya, as if she were some random little kid that approached him. “Y/N.” She bluntly responds.

(another time skip, woohoo!)

A/N: And now for the good part.

“Why did you tell me that your nexus event was killing me?” Loki asked, as they sat in the grass.

“Quite the questionnaire, aren’t you?” You jokes, subtly breaking her ever so permanent poker face with a slight smirk.

“You might as well have been dead anyway.”

Loki frowns.

“Well? What was it?”

She fully smirks. “I don’t remember.”

Loki’s hopeful face returns to a frown, then he creates himself a blanket, wrapped around him. Y/N chuckles.

“Of course you would do that.”

Loki sighs. “Do you really not remember?”

“I wouldn’t be a descendant of the God of Mischief if I didn’t tell a lie now and then. Of course I remember.”

A gust of wind blows, and causes Freya to shiver, and her teeth to chatter.

Loki alters the blanket so it’s wrapped around the both of them.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“You seemed cold.”

“Is this some kind of stupid scheme to get me to tell you?”

“What? No!”

Y/N tilts her head so it’s leaning on Loki’s shoulder.

“Tell me about my mother.”

“Oh…wow. Okay,” Loki says, taken aback by the sudden question.

“Well, she was a smart, strong, beautiful, and independent woman. She really never needed me. She had powers, just like mine–and yours– but she liked to use these fans with blades on them…and she liked to cut me with them.” That earned a chuckle from Freya.

“She also loved the color purple. It was her absolute favorite, and she would wear it pretty much everyday. She also adored grilled cheeses ever since we first went to Midgard. She really could’ve had anyone she wanted. I have idea why she chose me. Considering that, if it weren’t for me, she might have still been alive.”

Loki subtly wipes his eyes with his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“I thought I was saving her, but obviously I proved myself otherwise.”

“Saving her?”

“Well you see, there was…let’s just say, a battle, and..she was hurt. I was out of my mind to think that this would work, but I turned her to stone. I thought that..because I did that, it would heal when I turned her back. I saw it work before..and I knew how to turn her back, but it was too late.”

“I wish I could have spoken to her…even if it was only for three minutes. I…” She looks behind her. “I think she wants to talk to you.” She tell him, pointing to Sylvie.

“I think she can wait.” Y/N creates a watch and checks it. It’s only just going backwards. Really fast.

“This watch is not useful, but I’m sure she’s been waiting long enough. I’m always gonna be here. There’s no leaving.”

Loki stands up, making the blanket disappear.

“Except you can leave, because you’re coming with us.”

#loki x black!reader #black!reader #loki x reader #platonic!reader #loki x daughter!reader

78 notes · View notes

soralinklokidottirofmirkwood · 3 months ago

Text

Big Brother?: Big Brother Loki x little sister reader.

Age 10: reader Chan is Loki's biological little sister.

Laufey sends her to Earth because he didn't want her anymore and deemed her weak. She looks exactly like her big brother Loki (she wears kid Sylvie’s outfit but with fingerless gloves and the gold parts are silver.) and unlike her brother Reader Chan is very young and is a very sweet girl when you get to know her.

This takes place after Age of Ultron.

Odin has Loki stay on Earth so he can learn how to do good.

Sif is not pleasant, Oh and Laufey and Peitro survived and once again Civil war never happened.

King Laufey of Jotunheim stands in front of a portal that leads to Midgard holding a frost giant girl about ten years old in his arm. Glaring disgustedly at the small girl he said in a harsh whisper "I have no use for a weak child." He said coldly to his own daughter who has terror in her voice "D... Dad?" The girl whimpered as Laufey glares hatefully "DON'T CALL ME THAT EVER AGAIN." He yells to the girl who shakes in fear "Goodbye Y/N." he said throwing his daughter (more like yeeting) into the portal.

On Earth.

Bruce Banner and Tony Stark are in the lab.

Tony making blue prints and Bruce trying to figure out how Peter makes his web fluids "How does Peter do it?" Bruce asked his science bro who is also curious.

At Peter's apartment: he is sick BTW.

"Achoo. Is someone talking about me?"

Peter asked blowing his red nose.

Back at the the tower:

As the two are about to call the young friendly neighborhood hero a bright light stops them.

They turn to see some sort of portal open up confused they go over to the portal until something slams into Tony.

Tony looks down to see "A kid?" He asked Bruce is also surprised by the surprise guest "We better get her to the medical bay, she's freezing! The poor kids skin is blue." Tony said grabbing a spare lab coat, swaddled the kid in it and ran to the medical bay while Bruce ran to get the others.

As Tony ran to the medical bay he heard the girl whimpering "Hey it's going to be ok sweetie!" He told the girl as he entered the closes room and laid the girl down in the bed "Dad... I'm sorry. I... I'll try to do better." The girl whimpered Tony could only look shocked at the girl but it disappeared when Bruce and the others entered the room.

Bruce hooked the girl to the machines in the room and asked Friday to turn up the heat.

Everyone began circling the girl in the bed.

Everyone couldn't help but stare in curiosity at the girl.

She had dark H/L hair and wore some really strange clothing that reminded them of Loki's clothes but with silver.

"She's so tiny." Wanda said "The poor kids so cold she's gone blue." Peitro said gesturing to the shivering Child "MY FRIENDS. WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?" Thor boomed in his loud voice making the poor girl jump in terror. Everyone (except Thor and Loki) was shocked to see that the girls eyes were completely red "This kid isn't human." Clint said "What's going on my friends?" Thor asked until he saw the girl "My friends why is there a frost giant child in here?" Thor asked trying not to yell however Loki roughly picked the young frost giant up from the bed and held her roughly about to yell at the clearly scared frost giant child who was now shaking but when Loki's hands touched the girls waist they saw that the blue skin started turning into the same complexion as Loki, her ruby red eyes turned emerald green but her hair was the same black color, all in all the kid looked like a mini female version of Loki but her face had softer features that made her adorable "You are... like me." He said looking the young girl up and down "The kid looks exactly like reindeer games." Tony said looking between the god of mischief and the young girl "Your my big brother?" The young girl asked poking Loki's cheek in curiosity "We have to take the girl to Asgard to show mother and father." Thor said in surprise looking at the girl "My name is Y/N by the way. Y/N Laufeydottir. Well I'm no longer Laufey's daughter since he cast me out of Jotunheim." Y/N said opening her mind making Wanda gasp as tears run down her face "She is telling the truth." She said hugging Y/N making her hug her back Loki was in rage by his biological father's actions he just threw this innocent little girl away like she was nothing "I want to kill Laufey." Loki said as it began to snow until Thor placed his hand on his shoulder and Y/N's small arms wrapped around his neck.

Loki's eyes shoot open wide from the small embrace from the young girl.

He felt protective of her "I can do a DNA test to see if you are siblings." Tony said earning nodes from the team "We should." Thor said wanting to be sure if Y/N was Loki's little sister.

After getting some hair from Y/N and Loki.

Tony put the strands into the DNA scanner and waited for results to print.

After waiting the results finally printed as a 100% match "You are my sister." Loki said looking you up and down "Let us be off brother and sister." Thor said taking you in his arms making you laugh "Don't drop her you fool." Loki said as Thor called for Himdal.

In Asgard

The all father and all mother couldn't believe what they were seeing.

You a young girl that looked like their adopted son but younger and female.

Their boys explained to them of your situation and that you are Loki's biological sister.

They made their way down still looking at you and you looking at them in curiosity.

As they stand in front of you Odin places his hand on your head with Friga doing the same.

Upon this gesture you smiled a sweet innocent smile making the all father and mother smile back as they can see Loki in his younger days within you "I see no reason why she can't stay here." Odin said making you happy "We shall throw a feast to celebrate the newest princess of Asgard tonight." Odin said while Frigga can only have tears of joy on having another child to teach magic "Come daughter, we shall get you fitted for an outfit for tonight." Frigga said taking your small hand in hers "Alright mum." You said with a smile already accepting the all father and mother as your new parents making Frigga fight back tears.

Later at night:

you happily did a turn for Odin and Frigga in your new outfit for the feast,

It looked just like Loki's but with silver armor, a silver circlet with small bendy horns and instead of trousers you had on leggings.

They clapped happily at how much you looked like Loki "Come daughter the feast is starting soon." Odin said taking your left hand while Frigga took your right hand and all of you walked towards the feast.

You sit in between Frigga and Loki as Odin gives his speech to welcome you into Asgard while a servants serves everyone ale or cider.

Once the glasses are full Odin raises his "Tonight we honor Y/N Laufeydottir now known as Y/N Odinsdottir. Mine's and Frigga's new daughter and your new princess." As he says this he lifts the glass higher and bellows "LONG LIVE PRINCESS Y/N OF ASGARD." He yells "LONG LIVE PRINCESS Y/N OF ASGARD." Frigga, Loki, Thor and the people of Asgard yelled back then drank their drinks.

You and your big brothers are getting food from the feast when you saw three men and a woman walked towards you "So this is the new princess?" A man with a full beard like your new father asked "I bet she's like her brother." The woman said spitefully "Sif! Please she is just a child." Thor said in a protective manner while Loki pulled you behind him "Ohh please. She's already got you wrapped around her little finger." She said pointing her weapon at you making you clinch to Loki's cape "Sif stop it! She's only a child." A man with short blond hair and a beard with a mustache said "Ai Sif! What's gotten into you tonight?" A man with black hair asked Sif making her angry "AM I THE ONLY ONE THINKING THAT THIS LITTLE BRAT COULD BE LYING ABOUT HER FATHER!?" Sif yelled in rage "She is no doubt like Loki, one day she will turn her back on us and betray us all." She said earning the attention of everyone making people whisper but everyone gave Sif death glares "She calls herself a warrior?" A woman said "She's ruining the new princesses night." A man said.

Soon people began calling Sif out "Sif, in all my years of letting you get away with how you've treated Loki tonight you just proved that you have been abusing your power as a warrior." Odin said walking up behind you with Frigga in tow with disapproval in her motherly eyes as she places a hand on your head.

To make this short Sif was taken out of the party by guards and she was put in the dungeon for the rest of the night for pulling a weapon at you and saying stuff you aren't supposed to repeat and the feast went on with out interruptions until you started feeling sleepy "Dear I think it's someone's bedtime." Frigga said pointing to you "we'll take her to bed mother and father." Thor said picking you up making the all father and mother smile "Good night daughter." They said together as they each give you a kiss on the head "Goodnight Mom and Dad." You said as Loki and Thor walked out of the hall feeling exhausted themselves.

Thor gently puts you down so you could change into PJs "goodnight big brothers." You said as they smiled and closed the door.

After the party everyone retired for the night at 1:00 in the morning dual to it starting to rain and thunder causing you to wake up in fear.

Your now clutching your stuffed fox that your new parents gifted you after you arrived in Asgard but even that didn't calm you from the booms of the thunder so you decided to go to Loki's room (hearing from him that Thor snores like Surtur.) as your walking down the corridors the thunder booms again making you sprint and barge into Loki's room onto his bed causing him to make an oomph sound "Y/N, What's the matter?" He asked as a thunderbolt crashed down making you curl up into him "Ohh." He said seeing that your afraid of thunder "Shh it's alright little one." He said kissing your head as both of you cuddle unaware that Odin, Frigga and Thor are at the door seeing the whole thing "He really has changed since his temporary banishment to Midgard." Odin whispered proudly while Frigga gave him a smile "I'm proud of you brother." Thor said seeing his two little siblings sleeping peacefully.

Since the male version is popular I decided to do a female version of the story.

#platonic #mcu #big brother Loki #female child readers #big brother Thor #dad Odin #mom frigga #the avengers #little sibling reader #peter parker #sif bashing

11 notes · View notes