#both alyssa and the kid

[novococain]

🦴

[dream-beyond-the-fantasy]

Tagged by @goldheartedchaoticdisaster for doing this uquiz.

Julie Lawrence

fervently.

you crave a hug that cracks your ribs... the feeling of your wandering soul being crushed back into the bones that can't seem to hold it. you need a hand gripping yours so tightly you almost fear it may leave a bruise, a reminder that you are here. and that you are not alone.

Alyssa Morgan

gently.

you need to be held as though you're going to break. you need someone to trace your scars like cracks in a wall, crumbling. their touch is almost painful; you've been without it for too long, without someone to hold you. but, you cannot bring yourself to pull away.

Tagging @missviolethunter @curiousdamage @themaradwrites @goldenlilium-ocs @thatsweetbobbyfacetho

[lylian333]

~Yandere emperor x reader~

warning: read at your own risk, traumatizing, dark historical shits, noncon, force, many misunderstandings,sexual harrest , angst ,age gap, everything here is quite insane, historical au, he's fucking crazy, killing, insults, English is not my first langue(if there's any warning I didn't put, tell me)

words:2180

(this is not my art I found it on Pinterest, and in the comment section it's said that it was made by AI so💀)

~~

Princess (y/n) Laurier has been best friends with Princess Alyssa Everett since you both were just 6 years old. You both have many things in common, such as interests, opinions, and much more.

You both would usually hang out around each other's kingdom; you don't have any issues with her except with her father, Emperor Edward Everett. He was the hottest, most handsome man you have ever met, and you still do now.

You have had a huge crush on him that felt like butterflies inside your stomach since the day you met him, but he always has that emotionless face and rarely smiles unless at his wife, your best friend's mother. You know this from Princess Alyssa; she would complain about how cold and serious he is.

You still ignore those and try getting to know him, but he just looks annoyed or just straight-up ignores you, but you ignore it and still continue liking him. Not only that, you're not the only one; it's obvious that everyone that has met him, females and even males, all drool for him.

You still have some sense in you, and you also have to respect the Everett queen and Princess Alyssa since she is your best friend. You can't just let some love ruin the relationship you both had. You can't. She is like a sister to you. She helps you when you're confused; she protects and defends you when you were getting laughed at; she is there when you needed someone the most. It's not worth losing a relationship like this, and so your liking toward his father slowly dies down.

But things change when you grow up and start having features and curves and in the end, you become a gorgeous woman, many people are jealous of you even Princess Alyssa confesses to you about it and some desperately want you. You reject all of them since none of them are worthy of you, and you're disinterested in them.

Your intense gaze and soft complexion, with your structured face and striking presence, are on par with an iconic beauty, paired with the warmth and softness in your expression, which are very delicate. You would struggle to not look at yourself when there is a mirror.

You still have some feelings toward Emperor Edward, but you manage to hide it and be able to not think about him when talking to him.

The worst thing that could have happened was that the Queen of Everett died from childbirth while trying to give birth to the heir to the throne, but it went to a disaster. It was devastating news to hear from everyone.

The emperor was absolutely devastated and even despised the child. From that moment on he would never talk to anyone unless it was part of a duty, but other than that he would ignore the servant's advisers and even his own kids, which left Princess Alyssa depressed since she had to bear her mother's death, her father's coldness, and the baby boy that her mother lost her life to.

That week she came crying to you when you came to visit her and attended the funeral of the Everett Queen death. You decide to stay at Everett Palace for a few months before going back to Laurier Kingdom.

You promised Princess Alyssa that you'd take care of her and her baby brother, and so you did. After all, back at your kingdom and your family, you have 6 siblings, plus you, and you are the third eldest, which makes you the middle You have experience with babies after the experience of you sibling that you swear are more naughtyer when you take care of them.

In those months of staying, Emperor noticed that you had to take care of the baby boy and Princess Alyass when he found you singing a lullaby for them to fall asleep.

At that moment something in him awoke, something dark, horrible, and disgusting. He knew this was wrong, but who was there to stop him? Not even himself could do that.

From that moment on, he would try getting close to you and getting to know you better; by that, he would call you into his office or into his chamber. When talking, he would get close to you, too close, to the point that he's invading your personal space by burying his face in your hair, breathing in that sweet, gentle scent, or sucking and biting your earlobe.

You knew this was wrong. You both knew this was wrong, but you guys still continued. Your brain keeps telling you to stop and that this is your best friend's father, but your gut tells you to continue. For your best friend Princess Alyssa's sake.

At one of those meetings, you confess to him that you don't want to continue these "meetings" to respect your best friend Alyssa and her baby brother Prince James.

But when he hears that you swear you could feel the air getting tense and his face looks tense as well, and with clenched fists, he looks like he could kill someone that might have been you or others.

He then pushes you onto his office desk and forcefully rips your clothes off. All you can remember that day was just horror, pure fucking horror. It haunts your dreams, memories, and everything that you see that can somehow be related to the day you and he were together.

The cherry on top is Emperor Endward sends an arranged marriage to your kingdom between you both; you pray that your parents would reject this offer, but no. Instead, they accept it and send you a letter telling you the reasons that this could help our kingdom very much and this could give you a better future and more, but all you care about is that you're trapped with him. They also added in that they would be unable to see because of the distance of the two kingdoms and that it is time to set you free.

Oh, how you wish it were true to let you spread your wings and have your own freedom.

You hated everything, mostly yourself. You hated yourself for not being more alert and not telling anyone, not even your own family or close ones; you—you can't even describe the feeling that you're feeling at that point. You quite literally were disgusted by yourself.

You cry all day long to the point where Princess Alyssa hears it and finds you, and you vomit out all the things that happened while still crying. You wish the earth could just eat you whole, make you disappear from the earth, from this world, from this life.

You keep pressuring yourself that this is your fault for days till your hair has a few strands of white hair that you have noticed.

The wedding was within the week, and you both got married and wed. That very day and night of the "honeymoon," he slams you against the bed carelessly and forcibly spears open your legs with his hand while another pins both your head on top of your head.

You whisper near your ear,True to be told, I have actually noticed that since you were just a little girl, you always had a crush on me, so technically you wanted this to happen, so don't cry like last time, dear."

Your eyes go wide when you hear that he actually noticed. He knows that you have no words—absolutely no words.

That night was as horrible and traumatizing as the night you both had together. Princess Alyssa personally tries to help you escape; even after the marriage, she still supports you, even knowing the fact you are technically her stepmother.

But she accepted you, and you were quite stunned at how she handled the situation. Even though it was like hell, she still helped, whether by holding you while you were crying or whatever she was still there. It felt like she was starting to take care of you instead of you taking care of her like how you first promised.

In one of the many attempts of you trying to escape and her helping you with it, you both were caught, and Emperor Edward decided to punish you by isolating you and sentencing Princess Alyssa to be beheaded, his own daughter.

And you were forbidden to give her any visits after the situation. You didn't get the chance to even give her the last hug or talk or anything, not even a goodbye. You even threatened to kill yourself if he didn't allow you to see her, but he just laughs at you and tells the guards to throw you inside a dungeon where there's nothing, not even a window, so you have to rely on the fire outside.

Just like that, she's gone forever. You cry for days and refuse to eat, sleep, or even drink. The king himself has to personally force-feed you so that you don't die. You even scream and beat him as hard as you can in rage whenever you see him, but he just stands there, not unbothered. You might as well think that he doesn't even care or feel anything anymore, no remorse, no nothing, just disgusting lovesick eyes looking at you.

"I just can't get enough of you, love~"

Your life goes on until you have had enough, like enough one more year of this. You seriously don't think you want to be reincarnated into another life. You desperately want to feel things instead of being trapped in the shared chamber all day long, only allowed to go out to the garden for 1 hour to get fresh air with a few ladies in waiting and your own trusted servants near you to keep being aware of you and make sure you're not doing anything harmful to yourself or escaping.

You came up with the stupidest and most shameful idea. You decide to frame yourself for cheating on Emperor Edward and confess to him that you cheated. Making up fake clues for others to notice and gossip about, but the emperor refuses to believe it, so you told him personally.

"I cheated on you, Edward."

"You must be joking, dear. How would you even be able to do that, hm?"

but you just keep repeating the sentence, "I cheated on you."

This makes him overthink and triggers him, and he ends up struggling with you to death in the process. You still keep repeating the sentence, which forces him to grip your neck even harder till you are no longer breathing—not even a single movement, just soulless eyes staring straight.

When he realized that it was too late and there was no turning back, he let go of your neck, and you collapsed onto the ground, dead. He kneeled down next to you; finally, at this moment, he felt guilty for everything. He reflected on the things he had done to you, the amount of damage. Why didn't he think about this earlier? Maybe that could help him.

No, it's your fault for cheating on him. How dare you filthy women cheat on an emperor that has done everything for her sake? To this day he still blames you, but part of him does regret not caring what you felt and thought. He only treated you like a toy, a glass doll that would easily be broken. But he just couldn't help but love you with all his might, even if it meant hurting you.

He tried to keep your body from decomposing and rotting and would soak you in water to slow down the decomposing. He even went mad and brought you to the throne room for events, dressed you properly, stuffed you with cotton to keep you looking more alive, and said to others, "My wife is doing well; look at her, she's such a sleepy head; look at her sleeping, hehe…"

Sadly, eventually, he had no other choice but to finally bury you because your body was decomposing and smelling really bad. At the funeral, he gives a speech on how she was in his life and how he can't believe she died before him from 'sickness' and oh how sad he was and how he saw her glowing up into an elegant woman and more.

Prince James also gave a speech about how you try helping out, that he always sees her as a mother figure, and how (y/n) has always tried her best. He was innocent in all of these; as well, he even balled his eyes out when he found out that you died.

At the very last moment of seeing your face, he cupped your cheek one last time.

"Oh, how much I will miss you oh how I wish that I could go with you as well, but it's fine you don't need to worry love In my will, when I die, I'm going to be buried right next to you." He says that while chuckling while feeling remorse.

~~

omg, there are so many things I want to comment on but erm yeah this is how it is??? it could have been worse

[songmingisthighs]

Missing Out

group : ateez

pairing : dilf!mingi × reader

genre : smut

wc : 4.1 k

tw : mdni, explicit smut; daddy kink, teasing, dirty talk, age gap (mingi's like mayhaps at least a decade older, but both are still within legal limits), thigh riding, spitting, alcohol consumption (not to the point of being drunk, it's just for vibes and... spitting lmao),

a/n : frfr i hope he doesn't see this fic because God i would not be able to defend myself. tbh i planned on posting this on mingi's bitthday but i got shit happening to me. shit without my consent and I'm just trying to ride the stress like gandalf hopped up on cocaine riding smaug. so ykw i decided to post this on my birthday instead lmao. special thanks to @kitten4sannie for listening to me drop some ideas while i was on a road trip, i did some adjustments but it's still sexually frustrated dilf!mingi this fic is finally out so i hope you and everyone enjoy it <3

a/n/n : i take no responsibilities for any calf cramp that may or may not happen but alyssa, i still blame you for the great leg cramp at ass o'clock

a/n/n/n : my birthday sucks because it felt more like public service than anything but i got ticket to go to singapore again so i'll be reunited with my little brother and little sisters soon✌️ i'm raising money for my mental wellbeing which is so totally code for i'm trying to find a way to make my shituation better by making myself just the slightest bit happier after today's shenanadoodles

buy me coffee ?

After the day Mingi had, the cold drink in his hand felt like the reward he deserved. It was only then that Mingi realized why people always say that the Family Court is rough. Still, of course, it was extra rough for him because his ex-wife, the horned creature incarnate (a goat, not the devil), had dragged his name through the mud just to get the maximum alimony because she was a narcissistic bum with no life skill to fall back to as if Mingi was the one who told her to quit her job as a dental hygienist when they first got married.

During the mediation meetings and court proceedings, she took all of the potshots she could While no one took her seriously, it still pained Mingi because the more she and her lawyer attacked him, calling out all of his insecurities and questioning his character, the more obvious it was that Mingi had wasted 9 years of his life on this loser and he missed out on all of the marital milestones. The main sore spot was having kids. She argued that putting her body through pregnancy was out of the question because there were risks that could cause her body to look weird in the future and it's inhumane how a woman's body had to contort in such a way to accommodate another living being. But when her breast implant popped when she slammed the car door too hard, it was 'a normal occurrence'.

As much as his friend Yunho told him not to, Mingi couldn't help but wallow in the time he absolutely WASTED on the bitch only to be screwed over. The only good thing that came out of the divorce was the fact that he got out of it without having to pay alimony because his ex-wife had become too cocky with her cards. But still, Mingi had to give her the car, the savings account (that wasn't much compared to anything considering she had drained it to accommodate her filler addiction and alcohol dependency), and Tony Son, their personal trainer, the one thing Mingi could credit her because she had been the one who introduced him to the man who was able to sculpt his body to perfection.

"Is this seat taken?"

Mingi snapped his head to the side to see a woman younger than he, dressed in a tight-bodiced red sparkly dress that showed just enough cleavage for it to be classy rather than trashy and the A-line satin skirt stopped just three fingers width atop her knees. Slowly, Mingi nodded and gestured to the seat on his right side wordlessly. It wasn't until the woman flagged down the bartender and ordered her drink did Mingi questioned why she sat next to him when there were other seats in the bar.

"So, are you alone?" she asked, striking up a conversation with Mingi which honestly caught him by surprise because he had been told that he had a resting bitch face that doubled in intensity when he wasn't in the mood and he was doubling in his bad mood. "Yeah... I am, so..." his words allude to him wanting to be alone, but there was something about the person next to him that intrigued him so much so that his eyes seemed to be glued to her. Just the sight of her drinking her vodka cranberry made Mingi's eyes travel from her face down to her lap, watching the way she moved so gracefully. "So... You don't mind my asking why a man as handsome as you are would be sitting alone with a scowl on his face," she pointed out, forcing Mingi to consciously unfurrow his eyebrows and fake taking a sip of his drink, "I'm not scowling, I'm just tired and pissed off for wasting 9 years on a selfish bitch that deprived me of anything I want in life," he spat venomously, even the slight mention of his ex sent a really unpleasant taste in his mouth. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?" She pouted, inching closer to Mingi as somewhat of a signal. Noticing this, Mingi scoffed and shook his head but he still entertained the woman, "Got a time machine to help me undo the past 9 years?" "No, but maybe I can give you what your ex couldn't."

You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip when the look of shock on Mingi's face melted into intrigue. You had been watching him for an hour, sitting all alone, nursing his one drink as he toyed with his ring before chucking it into his breast pocket. Thank God he did because you were not about to approach a potentially spoken-for man. It took you a while to get substantial evidence of his status and it wasn't just because you were distracted by his plump ass in those slacks and the matching suit jacket and slightly unbuttoned black dress shirt didn't help your case.

"Little girl, I think I'm a bit too... Far for your reach," Mingi pointed out, raising an eyebrow at you as he wasn't sure that you knew what you were offering him. Mirroring him, you raised your eyebrow and shifted so that you faced him fully as you raised one leg and cross it over the other, successfully inviting Mingi to get a glimpse of more skin. "You don't know me or what I can do, sir," you smirked challengingly, now openly inviting him to poke you further.

You were delighted when you saw Mingi's jaw clench and throat bob after you called him sir. It was proof to you that Mingi had some sort of inclination of being in control and his little confession about not getting what he wanted from his ex-wife might be a glimpse of the kind of fun you could get from him. So without hesitation, you decided that you were going home with him.

Surprisingly, Mingi responded positively by leaning in to cup your chin and pull you close, just a wispy breath away from having your lips meet and you so desperately wanted to taste his because they just looked so damn juicy and plump. "You don't want to know all the things I've been deprived of... Baby." Your eyes darken and your legs crossed tighter to suppress the sudden arousal washing over your core, excited at the confirmation that Mingi was playing into your games just as you had wanted. All you needed to do was lock this down. So you let your hand lay on his thigh, squeezing it suggestively and enjoying the feeling of his muscle tensing underneath you each time your hand slid closer to his crotch to the point that your nail was scratching the inner side of his thigh just right. Despite being physically affected by you, Mingi still maintained eye-contact, daring you to poke his button just right.

"Yes, I do... Daddy."

In the blink of an eye, Mingi smashed his lips on you and all of the oxygen was knocked out of your lungs in one go. His lips were soft but the way he used them was rough yet calculated. You could taste the smoky whiskey on his tongue as he slipped it inside your mouth. Little did you know, he too, was enjoying the way you tasted. Your lip gloss had a sweetness to it that made him wonder if you're the type to plan things or if it was just a happy coincidence. He also took note of how you allowed him to lead you and the more he asserted himself onto you with every nibble of his lip and every caress of his tongue, showing that you're more on the submissive side and he likes it. A lot. The more you felt pleasure, the more you pleasured him back as evidenced by your hand rubbing against his raging boner.

Mingi smirked at the way you whimpered when he finally pulled away from you to slap a couple bills on the counter before he got off the stool, pulling you along with him. You wobbled slightly but Mingi immediately pulled you flush on his chest and despite having just made out with him, you found the gesture very hot. "Wanna go see if you can keep up with the list of things I missed out on?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Mingi must be some kind of a business owner because no way he would have had a rather impressive office where you found yourself in. Well, on top of him on his couch, grinding your panty-less core against his thigh with your top down, allowing the older man to ogle at your tits as you tried to make yourself cum.

"Is that the best you can do?" Mingi taunted, circling his crystal glass which produced a tinkling sound from the ice in the drink he poured as soon as you reached his home. "Daddy, I want you to touch me," you whined but your hip was still relentlessly moving after making a big deal of how his thighs were so strong and you wanted to sit on them like a throne. So instead of just sitting, Mingi told you to make yourself useful and prep your pussy without his help and he wanted you to do it by riding his thigh. His thick, glorious thigh. "Don't you want to touch me, daddy?" you teased, cupping your boobs and tweaking your own nipples whilst throwing your head back, making a show out of it just to get Mingi to touch you. Sure, Mingi was intrigued, but he knew damn well that he was holding the reigns and he had to hold himself back from jumping at the opportunity to completely ravish you too soon. "I do, baby, but you're being a brat right now and refusing to listen to me. Had I wanted that, I would've stayed with my ex-wife." Your head snapped back up at the mention of his ex-wife and you glared at his smug smirking face, "You have me half naked on your lap and you still mentioned your ex-wife?" you gathered your skirt in your hand, exposing your cunt to Mingi's eyes and slowed your pace to a prolonged drag that left long, dark stain courtesy of your arousal.

Finding your petulance adorable, Mingi chuckled and pulled you in for a searing kiss with one hand cupping your chin and the other slapping you on the ass as if telling you to speed up your movement. "You're an adorable little doll and I'm gonna break you," he muttered against your lips before you could reply to him, Mingi tugged your hair back as he casually took a sip from his drink. The action made you yelp and Mingi swiftly leaned over and spit the drink into your mouth and clamped your jaw shut. "Swallow," he commanded and as you came down from being surprised, you stared into Mingi's eyes. At first, you only stared at him, feigning defiance just for fun and Mingi found that both intriguing and annoying. His grip moved to tightly grasp your jaw and he growled, "Swallow. It." He demanded in a stern voice that made your panties more damp as your cunt clench, leaving you unable to do anything more than whine and swallow the burning liquid. Mingi found you very mesmerizing even on an act as simple as you taking heed of his words. The stray spit and alcohol that trickled from the corners of your lips enhanced the glimmer of your smudged lipstick and lipgloss combo, turning Mingi on with how effortlessly sultry you looked. He was down and he was down bad. He wasn't even sure if he was down because Once the liquid was no longer there, you rolled out your tongue to proudly show your obedience and Mingi let out a shuddered breath seeing you just blindly following his orders like the good puppet you are.

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me."

In a flash, Mingi flipped you both around so that you were trapped underneath him with your head strategically on the armrest. The elevation allowed you to watch as Mingi dragged a hand down your body as if you were a work of art. "All this time... I was missing a lot all this time, that bitch took nine years out of me and gave me nothing," Mingi shuddered both in anger and in arousal. The contrasting thoughts between being so angry at his former partner and the excitement of being rewarded by being able to ravish you felt like waves crashing inside him. It was thrilling. It was exciting. It got his adrenaline pumping and God, he felt alive. "Poor baby," you purred all the while slowly popping the buttons of his dress shirt off to reveal the soft skin underneath, "You're so frustrated, It's a good thing I'm here now huh?"

You swung your leg up and used the tip of your toe to tilt Mingi's chin upwards maintaining a somewhat neutral expression but the twinkle in your eyes indicated clear intrigue. "Tell me all the things you want to do. What do you want most?" the question made Mingi roll his eyes back and he grabbed your leg by your ankle. "You nasty slut, you want to have an older cock so bad you're enticing me with empty promises, huh?" He mumbled against the skin of your leg, trailing his lips down from the heel and lower to your calf as his body followed down until he eventually stopped at the mid-section of your inner thigh. You helped him by flipping your skirt up, exposing your cunt wholly to him and slotting the leg you lifted on his shoulder, "Empty promises? I want to give you whatever you want daddy, and in order for me to be able to do that, I need to know what it is."

Thinking that he had nothing to lose anyway, Mingi smirked and decided to test you. "I want a baby," he stated, "I want to put my baby in you," he said oh so casually as if he hadn't had his fingers poking and prodding your cunt like they just belonged there. Truthfully speaking, Mingi was expecting you to push him off and ran away screaming because what kind of a hookup just casually dropped a bomb as big as he did?

But it seemed like Mingi's luck was turning around for the better because you replied by reaching forward to free his cock from his pants, trying as best as you could to suppress the surprise at Mingi's size (but failing as evidenced by the way your eyes bulged slightly and your tongue peeking out to lick your bottom lip in hunger) before you leaned back and opened your legs widely as an invitation for him. "Then do it, fuck me so hard and dumb and deep that I'd have no other choice but to have your baby," you smiled up at him. Mingi could only stare at you in shock initially, not really knowing what you meant until you whined and pulled him closer using the leg that was hooked on his shoulder. "Daddy, don't make me wait too long. Come on, put a baby in me!" you pleaded, cunt throbbing with eagerness to feel Mingi's cock stretching you now that you already caught a glimpse.

The shock melted away from Mingi's face and even as he was guiding his cock to your core, he was still carefully watching your face, not wanting to waste any twitch or shift in your face from feeling him but also he was trying to be careful in case you showed him any indication of regret or if you changed your mind. But the way you whined and rolled your hips so your wet cunt could meet his cock more gave him the green light.

"You dirty slut," Mingi grunted before he shoved his length inside you in one fluid movement. The accumulating arousal from you riding his thigh provided proper lubrication but his sheer size was not something you're used to so your body tensed up at the impact. "F-fuck, daddy, y-you-" "Am I tearing you apart, baby? Are you being split into two on daddy's fat cock?" he asked in faux worry that was just him being condescending towards you. But you don't care, you found it hot even when he talked down to you as if you were nothing but his plaything. "Yes, yes, daddy, I'm being split open on your cock but I love it! I love it so much!" you moaned, hands clawing at his skin, causing red streaks to appear from the pressure of your nails, "Fuck, I want more!"

With that, Mingi pushed your legs up by your thighs, exposing more of your lower half to him. "Be daddy's good girl and hold these open, I wanna see your pussy taking my cock raw," he hissed, eyes zeroing on the way your puffy lips split open to accommodate his size. Carefully, as if assessing a great piece of art, Mingi watched attentively The view almost brought tears to his eyes but he channeled the somewhat endearing moment into fucking you stupid into the mattress.

Each drag of Mingi's cock felt like fire against your inner walls. Although there was a slight discomfort with each movement, the added pleasure of being filled like you had never before made you addicted.

If you thought you were enjoying yourself, Mingi was very close to combusting and he was trying his best to not cum too soon as he didn't wanna be branded as the geezer who came too early. But he couldn't help it, not with the way both his ego and his cock were stroked. It was as if you were made for him and he felt that the moment he entered your sopping cunt. So Mingi shifted his focus to you instead, working to get you to cum first.

"Come on baby, cum for daddy. I need you to cum first so you'd be ripe and open for me to fill you up," Mingi huffed, pressing his pointy nose against the junction of your neck that sent tingles down your spine, "We need to do our best to make sure that you'd be good and pregnant, right?" The weight of his words caused your head to spin as the thought of him filling you full for his own pleasure filled your mind. "Yes, yes daddy, make me cum please," you whined into his ears, your body reacting almost automatically by rolling your hips against his own to match his speed and desire. Mingi growled hungrily and his pace quickened significantly as the impact got harder. You were sure that after this your ass would be different shades of red and blue but you couldn't care less. Especially if Mingi wanted to do more rounds with you, you'd gladly wear the bruises like a badge of honor.

"Fuck, you're so hot like this, you're so hot when you're willing and submissive for me," Mingi grunted, even verging on whining into your ears because you just felt so good to him but he held firm, "Are you close, baby? Are you cumming soon?" Lucky for him, you nodded hurriedly, confirming that you were close. Your brain had been marinating in the dizzying arousal that it was embarrassingly quick for you to nearly reach your climax in a rather short time. However, your response was deemed lacking to Mingi who wanted to hear a verbal response from you. Mingi was quick to slap you hard on your left tit as a punishment, feeling the need to chastise you for simplifying your response.

The words died on Mingi's tongue and his hips sharply halted to a stop when he saw you yelp and shudder before coming completely undone underneath him, writhing pathetically as your nails grazed his skin, leaving red streaks for Mingi to show off for days on end. His eyes darken when he saw tears pooled in your own eyes before dropping, creating the illusion of your eyes sparkling which served a rather complex combination of innocence and sinful. "M-M- Daddy," you whimpered in almost a hushed tone, barely comprehensible but to Mingi the sound was thunderous in Mingi's ears, ringing, because his baby girl needed him. His baby girl wanted him. His baby girl who's willing to give him anything he could ask for was longing for him. So who is he to deny you?

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state seemed to unlock something primal in Mingi because while you were reeling down from your orgasm, Mingi was instead put into some sort of a trance. His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, slightly hoping that he could taste your sweetness in the air, and his hips restarted with a pace so hard and quick, for a moment you forgot that Mingi was a human.

The pleasure from your orgasm tripled with the additional friction continuously given by Mingi whose head was flooded with the thought of truly possibly getting you pregnant from this first time. Not that he was planning on only fucking you once, not after he felt how good you made him feel both emotionally and physically. He was planning to pamper you to death and maybe that was the sexually frustrated side in him but he didn't care, he didn't care how crazy he was because you were the one who made him crazy.

The sound of hips snapping together in a rhythm accompanied by your drunk-like moans sounded like a symphony in Mingi's ears. "F-fuck baby, I'm gonna fill you up now," Mingi grunted, his eyes closing and his forehead dropping to your shoulder, "I'm gonna fill you up with my seed to the brim and you're gonna be a good girl and keep it all in so my baby can grow safely inside of you, okay?" He whispered so intimately against your shoulder that both your lips and cunt wept. You wouldn't be surprised if there was a pool underneath you after you were done and you won't hesitate to ask for more. "Cum, daddy. Cum inside me. Fill me up so hard and full like you promised me!" You whined, your hands snaking around his shoulders to hold tight as the overstimulation caused a tingling pain that made your toes curl while Mingi was getting such a high from his ego being fed.

"Fuck, baby girl, this is it, I'm gonna put my baby in you!" Mingi grunted and thrusted, once, twice, thrice, before his hips stuttered and you felt a gush of warmth spilling deep inside your cunt. The physical feeling of being filled up made your eyes roll into your head and the realization of what just happened made you blush as if you weren't whoring for his cock not 10 minutes ago.

As Mingi slowly came down from his high, his mind cleared up and he was able to pepper kisses from your shoulders, up your neck, along your jawline, and then gently all over your face. The contrast of the sweetness of the older man and the nasty act you both just did made you suddenly turn all giggly and shy. "Aww, come on, are you trying to get away from me?" Mingi smirked, trying to chase another kiss from your lips but you kept dodging him, "That's pretty absurd considering I still have my cock inside of you, plugging you full." Your eyes widened at the vulgarity of his chosen words and you couldn't help but smack him on the shoulder but fail to hold back a giggle, "Don't say it like that!" "Like what? Like the way it is?" Mingi teased, pushing himself up to trail a finger on your stomach which made your breath hitch and your muscle to tense, "I need to make sure you really do get pregnant so you can give me my baby just like I wanted," his voice trailed as his fingers drew patterns on your skin almost lovingly and the nonsensical side of you wanted to believe that he was showing his affection to you. You figured that there was only one way to find out.

Without missing a beat, you took his finger that was tracing your skin into your mouth and start licking around as if it was a lollipop, effectively causing Mingi's attention to shift to your face and his cock to twitch inside you. "Who said we're only gonna try this once, daddy? You're gonna fuck me as much as you like until I'm good and pregnant."

The smirk that bloomed on Mingi's face was devilish and almost menacing, showing his genuine intention to get wamhat he wanted.

"I hope you'd never ask. I'm gonna fuck you all night long and you're gonna be a good girl and take it all with no complaint."

As if you'd say no.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

permalist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @surveilenceysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @itasluv @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread

[novaursa]

hey boo , can i request something with a rhaenyra sister reader and the event on driftmark with the kids and basically readers daughter or son gets caught in the crossfire even though they just wanted the fighting to stop , and nobody but rhaenyra and viserys notices and the reader literally starts raging but everything hits the fan when alicent says something slick about readers child which ends with the reader going after alicent yk mothers rage , and rhaenyra gets caught in the middle which ends with alicent drawing blood and viserys actually punishing her for harming the heir to throne ❤️😚

The Unbroken Line

- Summary: During events of Driftmark, after Laena’s funeral, Alicent insults your son and you defend him with all you have.

- Pairing: niece!reader/Daemon Targaryen

- Note: I was receiving pure chaos vibes from this request, so I've written chaos with slight differences from the requested plot. I've also paired the reader with Daemon for more drama. I hope you don't mind, dear anon. 🙂

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The hall on Driftmark is suffocating and the air is heavy with grief. You stand to the side, your eyes sweeping over the crowd. Daemon is across the room, his face an unreadable mask, as always. Laena’s funeral has cast a somber mood over the entire gathering, but it is the murmurs, the whispers in the corners, that unnerve you the most.

You’re barely listening to the conversations, your mind elsewhere as your son, Baelon, tugs at your sleeve. He’s barely of six, a boy with silver hair and violet eyes that mark him as undeniably Targaryen. But the whispers that follow you both have always been cruel. "Bastard," they say, no matter the legitimacy that Daemon insists upon. And though your son’s parentage is a secret kept from most, there are those who suspect, those who sneer when they think you do not see. You feel a flash of anger surge in your chest but push it down for the sake of the evening. This is not the time.

Then, it happens. The commotion breaks out near the far end of the hall, a flash of movement, children’s cries—Aemond’s voice raised in triumph, and suddenly, a cry of pain. Baelon pulls at your hand, fear etched across his small face. You pull him closer instinctively, feeling the first sparks of dread ignite in your stomach.

“They’re fighting,” someone gasps, and then you see it.

Jacaerys, Lucerys, and the other children are in a brawl, fists flying, insults hurled. Aemond, his eye bloodied, stands among them, a smirk on his face despite the injury. He’s claimed Vhagar, and the children’s anger has boiled over. But it’s not until you see Baelon dart forward, his small form trying to push between the boys to stop them, that your heart truly seizes in your chest.

“No,” you whisper, moving forward too late.

Your son, your sweet boy, tries to pull Lucerys back, but a stray punch catches him on the cheek. He stumbles, and for a moment, the chaos feels like it slows, your gaze locking onto his wide, tear-filled eyes. Baelon isn’t used to this kind of violence. He only wanted the fighting to stop. But in that split second, the world snaps back into focus, and everything moves too fast.

“Baelon!” You scream his name as the children continue their scuffle. Panic rises in your throat as you rush toward them, only to see blood streaking from a small cut above Baelon’s brow. He’s crying now, and your heart shatters at the sight.

Rhaenyra is the first to reach you, her arms around Lucerys and Jacaerys, eyes wide with concern as she glances at Baelon. “Y/N—”

“Enough!” King Viserys’s voice booms through the hall, silencing the room. His eyes sweep over the mess of children and the adults who now encircle them. “What is the meaning of this?”

You pull Baelon into your arms, your body trembling with rage and fear. His little face is pressed against your shoulder, his small hands gripping your dress as though holding on for dear life.

Aemond stands, his face bloodied but defiant. “They attacked me,” he sneers, glaring at Jacaerys and Lucerys. “For claiming Vhagar.”

Before you can respond, Alicent steps forward, her eyes sharp, her voice laced with venom. “It was their doing, all of them—bastards!” Her gaze flicks to Baelon, and then to you. “What else should we expect from a brood of illegitimates?”

The room stills, her words hanging in the air like a dagger. You feel your blood turn to ice, then heat, a red-hot fury boiling in your veins.

“What did you just say?” Your voice is low, dangerous, the kind that Daemon uses before he kills. The hall is silent now, all eyes on you and Alicent.

She tilts her chin, as if emboldened by her own words. “You heard me. The boy is a bastard. And we all know who his true father is.”

That’s when something inside you snaps. A mother’s rage, the kind that knows no bounds, the kind that can burn cities to ash. You’re moving before you can think, your legs carrying you across the room toward Alicent, murder in your eyes.

“You vile—” The words rip from your throat, but Rhaenyra steps in, grabbing your arm as you lunge. “Y/N, no!”

Your fingers claw at the air, your vision tunneling as you fight against Rhaenyra’s hold, desperate to tear Alicent apart. The smug look on her face only fuels the fire, and your blood pounds in your ears.

“Let me go!” You scream, thrashing against Rhaenyra’s grip, but she holds firm, her own strength surprising you. “She dares—she dares insult my son—”

Across the room, you see Daemon move, his expression dark, but before he can get to you, Ser Criston steps in, blocking his path. The two men lock eyes, the threat between them palpable.

“Do something!” Alicent screeches, her face flushed with indignation as she glares at Viserys. “Look at what she’s doing!”

Viserys’s eyes harden as he steps forward. “Alicent, enough!”

She rounds on him, fury sparking in her eyes. “Your daughter is a menace! Look at her—she’s—”

“She is defending her child,” Viserys thunders, his voice cutting through the chaos like a sword. “And you will not speak ill of him again.”

Alicent recoils, her mouth opening to retort, but before she can, you wrench yourself free from Rhaenyra’s grasp, your hand flying toward Alicent in a blind fury.

The sound of your slap echoes through the hall, and Alicent stumbles back, her hand flying to her cheek, eyes wide with shock.

“You will never speak of my son that way again,” you hiss, your voice trembling with rage. “Never.”

Alicent, seething with humiliation, lunges forward, and you feel the sting of her nails as they rake across your arm. The pain is sharp, but you don’t care. You’re ready to fight her with everything you have.

“Stop!” Viserys’s voice cracks like a whip, and suddenly, Alicent is pulled back by the guards, her eyes wild with fury, her cheek reddened from your slap.

Rhaenyra steps between you both, breathing heavily, her eyes darting between you and Alicent, as if trying to assess the situation.

Alicent stumbles back once guards release their hold, her chest heaving as blood stains her hand. The red streaks across her fingers are a stark contrast to the white of her gown, and her eyes are wide, filled with disbelief and raw emotion. The entire hall is still now, everyone holding their breath, waiting for Viserys’s next words.

“Go to your chambers,” Viserys commands, his voice stern and unwavering. There is no room for debate in his tone, no softness for his wife this time. His gaze pierces through her, as though he barely recognizes the woman standing before him.

Alicent’s mouth opens, shock flashing across her face. “My chambers?” she repeats, incredulous. “You would send me away after what has happened here?” Her eyes dart to Aemond, who stands nearby, his face bloodied and wounded, the empty socket where his eye once was a grotesque reminder of what has transpired. “Our son has just lost an eye, Viserys! And it was by one of her children!”

Her finger jabs toward Rhaenyra, and the venom in her voice sends a shiver down your spine. Alicent's words are sharp, biting, desperate. She is a mother grieving for her son, but that does not excuse what she’s just done.

Viserys’s face softens only for a moment as he glances at Aemond, the boy looking small and vulnerable despite his defiance. “Aemond will be cared for,” Viserys says, his voice quieter now, but still firm. “A maester will see to him.”

Alicent shakes her head, stepping forward as if to plead with him. “This is not fair! He is my son—our son! And you let them—” her voice cracks, her fury dissolving into raw emotion, “you let them harm him.”

Viserys closes his eyes briefly, the weight of the situation pulling at him visibly. But when he opens them again, his resolve is clear. “What happened to Aemond is terrible,” he says, his tone soft but unyielding, “but what you’ve done here today cannot be ignored. You attacked the princess of the realm, Alicent.”

You feel Rhaenyra step closer to you, her hand resting gently on your shoulder as her presence offers you silent strength. Jacaerys and Lucerys are huddled behind her, their eyes wide and anxious, still shaken by the violence of the evening. Baelon remains clutched tightly in your arms, his small body trembling against yours. You can feel his heart racing against your chest.

“This matter will be handled,” Viserys continues, his voice regaining its edge. “But you will go to your chambers, Alicent, and you will stay there until I decide otherwise.”

Alicent’s expression hardens, but the fire in her eyes slowly dims as the weight of his words sinks in. She knows she cannot argue further without crossing a line that even she dares not cross. Her lips press into a thin, angry line as she glances around the room, seeking some form of support, but there is none. Even Otto Hightower stands back, silent and observing, knowing that to interfere now would only worsen things.

With one last glare, Alicent turns on her heel, her skirts swishing dramatically as she leaves the room. The sound of her footsteps echoes in the silence, and for a moment, no one dares to speak.

Viserys’s shoulders slump slightly as she disappears from view, and he seems to age ten years in an instant. The king takes a deep breath, his face pale, the toll of the day evident in his expression.

“See that Aemond is tended to,” Viserys orders one of the maesters standing nearby. The man hurries forward, guiding Aemond gently toward the exit. Aemond's eyes flicker toward you for a brief moment, and despite his injury, you can still see the simmering resentment there.

The maester pulls him away, and with that, the hall is left with only the aftermath of what’s happened. The tension lingers like smoke in the air, thick and suffocating, but there is a small relief as Alicent’s presence fades.

Rhaenyra’s hand tightens slightly on your shoulder, grounding you in the moment. Her eyes meet yours, and in them, you see understanding, sympathy. “Are you alright?” she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, though your heart is still pounding, your rage only beginning to subside. You glance down at Baelon, still clinging to you, and press a kiss to the top of his silver head. He looks up at you, his eyes glistening with tears, but there’s a brave little smile there as if he’s trying to tell you it’s all going to be okay.

“We’ll be fine,” you murmur, though the words are more for him than for you.

Rhaenyra pulls you into a hug, and for a moment, the world feels a little less heavy. She whispers in your ear, her tone gentle, “You did what any mother would do, Y/N.”

But even as she says it, you feel the weight of what has just happened settle deep in your bones. The line between the two families has been drawn sharper than ever.

And then you feel another presence beside you—Daemon.

He moves with that quiet grace of his, somehow managing to cross the room without you realizing until he’s right there, his eyes locked onto you and Baelon. His gaze is intense, protective, as he stands by your side, his hand coming to rest on your lower back. You can feel the heat of him, his unspoken fury simmering beneath the surface, but he keeps it in check, his jaw tight.

“Are you hurt?” His voice is low, intimate, meant only for you.

“I’m fine,” you breathe, though you can see the way his eyes narrow slightly, scanning you as if searching for any sign of harm. His gaze briefly lingers on the small cut on your arm, and his hand twitches, as if he wants to tear Criston Cole apart or perhaps ride straight to Alicent’s chambers to exact retribution.

Baelon wiggles in your arms, and Daemon’s attention shifts to him, his expression softening just a fraction. He reaches out, brushing a lock of silver hair from Baelon’s tear-streaked face.

“He’s alright,” you say quietly, though your voice cracks slightly. “Just frightened.”

Daemon’s lips press into a thin line as he looks down at your son, the boy who bears his unmistakable Targaryen features. “He’s strong,” Daemon says softly, his tone carrying a weight of unspoken promises. “He’ll be fine.”

You meet Daemon’s gaze, and for a moment, the two of you share an unspoken understanding, a bond that is forged in both passion and shared responsibility. The world may be falling apart around you, but in this moment, you know that Daemon will stand by your side, just as you stand by your son.

Rhaenyra moves closer, her children at her side, and the three of you form an unbreakable wall around your children. The tension may not have left the hall, but for now, you stand united.

[balkanradfem]

So I've found Alyssa Grenfell on youtube. She shares her experience of leaving mormonism, and the inner workings of the religion. I had very little ideas about what mormonism is, only that it's a high-control religion, very difficult to leave, and has people knocking on doors trying to get converts. I've been interested to find out more, and I ended up watching almost all of her content, and some of the information I've got from it opened my eyes on other feminist topics, and I believe is relevant to the current discourse!

So if you, like me, don't know how mormonism works, it started when a guy decided that he too could be a part of the bible; he wrote a bible part two: mormon, and proclaimed himself a prophet. Then he started a religion based on his writings, decided it was more important than the bible itself because he 'translated it from gold tablets god gave him', and started gaining followers by convincing people he's the prophet. Once he had managed to get a following, he soon started to sexually exploit the wives and daughters of these followers, to the point where he had 20-40 wives and had married 14yo children. Families allowed it to happen because he would promise them to be royalty in the afterlife. He eventually got into a lot of trouble for stealing and raping children so he was killed by an angry mob, but the religion continued.

The religion is same as christianity except more rules (no coffee, no alcohol, no smoking), eternal worship of the predator who wrote it, followers are pressured to follow the rules exactly, and, the vital part, the followers have to give 10% of their income to the church. They developed a culture where once every young mormon kid comes of age, they have to go on a 'mission', which means they're removed from their home, and have to spend 2 years (1,5 for women) living in a foreign area, knocking on doors, sharing the gospel, trying to convert people. The conversion rate is extremely low, but at that point kids have invested so much time, effort, energy and passion for the religion, they become devoted to it and start to feel alienated in the world that rejects their religion. And even with the low conversion rate, every new convert means another continuous source of income for the church. So it's very profitable to send out young adults to make these sales. The kids are told that if they don't complete their missions, they will not be able to marry, and marriage is presented as their only life purpose.

So how rich is the church at this point? 230 billion dollars. I've been shocked to hear this because I had no idea. Alyssa explained that the mormon church is as rich as Pepsi, they have more money than Disney and McDonalds. So you might be wondering, like I did, well what are they doing with all that money? I've been left to wonder this for a while, until I watched the video called 'Why are so many influencers mormon?', which explained it. I didn't even realize a lot of influencers were mormon. But, this video showed me something both disturbing, and eye opening.

Before I go into that, I have to point out how patriarchal and misogynistic this religion is. Women are not given any options except marriage, and it's presented as the only righteous way to live. They're groomed for marriage from a very young age, encouraged to start writing letters to their future husbands at the age of 9. They're taught cooking, sewing and childcare, and to coddle any males in the family. It's taken for granted that m*n won't respect women, to the point where male children are allowed to harass grown women and their families will not intervene or consider it a problem. Chastity and purity are promoted to the level where members of the religion are expected to wear special underwear at all times, which hides their entire torso, shoulders, and legs down to their knees, and their clothing is expected to cover this up completely. They're rejected by the religion if they dare to have sex before marriage, or drink alcohol or coffee, or in some cases, tea. The church has a history of allowing and promoting polygamy, in the sense that a male was allowed to have as many wives as he wanted; they've since stopped this, but refused to break up the existing marriages. They're also promoting anti gay and racist propaganda, which Alyssa observed in school where she'd been teaching; a gay kid almost ended his life due to extreme homophobia.

I know all of this is somewhat common in all areas of society, all religions, and all cultures, but in mormonism it seems to be written into the core of it.

So now, why are so many influencers mormon? I didn't even know they were. The influencers themselves are not promoting the fact that they're mormon, nor does it come up in viral discussions. Ballerina farm is mormon. Tradwives are mormon. Whataboutaub, Rachel Parcel, brooklynandbailey, tanner_mann, thebucketlistfamily, Taylor Frankie Paul, Sarah Beeston, Ruby Franke, these are all mormon. Most of the Utah-based influencers are mormon, and there's a bigger amount of successful and popular influencers from Utah, than from LA or NY.

For me it immediately explained why this viral content is like that. Why we're having such influx of highly patriarchal, anti-feminist, very dangerous and sexist content, put in front of the eyes of young women. Why it's being promoted as an ideal way of life. How are these women able to share this life as if they truly believed it was good and ideal. How could they think it's harmless? If they're using the internet to the extent that they're creating content, how would they not be exposed to any feminism at all? And they wouldn't because it's against their religion to engage with content like that, or with people talking about it. Because being raised in a high-control religion, they would truly believe their lives are the ideal. They would be presented with it as their only option, the only way of life possible for a woman.

It's heartbreaking because I can now understand why it was so easy to push Ballerina Farm to give up her entire life ambition to get married and carry children for a male she didn't even want to go out with, the pressure from the religion to do so would be immense, she would have been raised to see this as the only option, everything else in her life would be considered pointless. She wouldn't have an actual choice, she'd be groomed for this from the moment she was born. Mormons don't advertise 'looking for your soulmate', they only instruct women to marry a mormon male who completed his mission and make it work.

So how does the immensely rich mormon church play into this? I couldn't see it until Alyssa explained in a very detailed way how youtube content advertising works. I didn't know about this either, but here's the overview:

How much you get paid on youtube, instagram, tik-tok, or other online content platform, depends on what type of content it is, based on how much advertisers are willing to pay to put adverts on it. For instance, you get paid much more for finance content, because banks will pay premium prices to be advertised in a finance-related video. If you're making content on cooking, you get paid way less, because it's not such a lucrative field. If you're making content on christianity, you get similarly low price as for cooking, christian church is not that rich. But, if you're making content as a mormon, that's showcasing some aspect of a mormon life, even if you don't specifically say you're mormon, the price goes way up, to the point where it's as lucrative as finance. The mormon church is making sure that the mormon influencers are being paid premium prices for their content, because people who get massively interested in the influencers, eventually find out that it's the mormon life being advertised, and some of them consider taking on mormonism. Which gives church more converts, which means the church will earn more money. The content we're watching is one huge advert sponspored by mormon church, and we don't even know it.

Alyssa figured this out because her content falls under the keyword 'mormon', and her comments warned her that the church is advertising on her videos, even when she's making mormon-critical content. She then realized that she too was being paid a premium price for her views, just because they're mormon themed. She went on to discover that even just being an influencer in Utah will fetch a premium price, because most of mormons are based in Utah. For more detailed and comprehensive explanation on this, watch her video!

Advertising is not the only way the mormon church is spending their money, they've also built a shopping mall, and are basically spending their money by investing and gambling and everything any corporation does with their profits. It's making me mad, and also makes the members of the church mad when they discover where 10% of their income goes, because they're told it's being used for charity and community service, and not advertisments and building malls.

For me this solves a mystery of how is it possible, in this day and age to have such influx of tradwives and influencers of 'traditional life', they're being sponsored by an organization making a profit off of it, making sure that anyone making this content is so well paid, they're able to live off of it, and keep creating more of it, and in the process of doing that, groom young women into their lifestyle.

Learning more about religions, specifically high-control religions, makes me realize just how much of it is happening all around us, but invisible, not naming what it is. It's similar to MLM's, the people inside are constantly trying to lure more people in, to make profit for those on the top, while the organization keeps changing names and hides their business structure in order to save their reputation. People can get influenced by it, and sucked in, without even knowing about it. Somehow most MLM's are also in Utah.

Mormon church also asked to no longer be called that, in order to stop being associated with the words like 'cult', which people have identified it as. Now they're working under more secretive names, and hidden business practices, so we wouldn't even know what we're being influenced by, and why is the content in front of us what it is.    

[almondmilktargaryen]

Duty & Sacrifice (Part Three)

Summary: Aemond is married with two kids to Floris Baratheon, as it was his duty. But it's when he ventures into Flea Bottom in the night that he faces his sacrifices.

Couple: Aemond Targaryen/Fem!Reader

Category: Flangst

Content warnings: Mourning child loss (written by someone who's not a parent), lying

Word count: 4.6k

Also on my Ao3

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four ✍️

Just as when he left Flea Bottom, the guards do not look twice at Aemond as he walks through the Keep. They do not see his face, nor the two cloaks he wore (Criston gave him his to hide the blood). No, all they see is his boots as they bow upon passing. The only words they utter are, “My prince.” Aemond faces forward. His eye does not stray. And his head stays up.

He turns sharply after climbing the stairs, finding his chamber doors in the east wing. The guard outside mimics the expected behavior before Aemond pushes himself through.

Out of all things unexpected in one night, Floris being absent was jarring. She sticks to a routine, just like him. With the candles already snuffed out, the smell of smoke had been replaced by the open air from their balcony. She should’ve retired hours ago.

Perhaps the gods wanted to leave him alone after… all of it, reminding him how alone he truly was. Still, Aemond looks around, peering past corners and squinting into dark areas at the far ends of their chambers, straining his vision with the distance as he feels the chains in his chest. They weighed down his heart and lungs as he staggered and lifted the bedcovers. Caution camouflages with his grief and takes hold just as strongly. Floris could be anywhere.

The weight, the chains stacked on themselves. Aemond discards the cloaks and mixes them in their shared dirty clothes. The view of King’s Landing taunts him; the capital he once saw from a safe distance nearly two years ago. Even in daylight, the people were nothing more than specks of dust. None of them could hurt him. He never thought it would be the reason, once again, why he felt this way. It was only more proof that he has not changed, still stupid. Three and ten, self-loathing, and stupid.

Luc used to represent his self-loathing. Now he sees Alyssa.

She was warm whenever he held her to his chest, like the sun washing over the cityscape. She was a blaze as fiery as her hair. Now she’s snuffed out like the candles in his chambers, but this time far away from home.

Aemond grips the barrier of the balcony as he falls. The stone scratches his skin as he clings to it like a cliff’s edge, yet he sinks down and down. A heave escapes him, squeezed out of him as the imagery of it all floods back, every angle pouring in as he convinces himself there was something he could have done. Before the alleyway, before Chataya’s. Surely, there was a step he missed. He had to have, so he retraced it all while shivering, like winter was here.

The door creaked open, making Aemond’s head spring up like a deer hearing a twig’s snap. He plugged his grief, picking himself up in the shroud of darkness and rubbing his face.

“Aemond!” Floris’ silhouette is barely in view, but he still recognizes it as she pushes her bangs from her forehead. Her rapid breaths grow louder with each step toward him before she’s fully in the moonlight. She’s in her nightgown. The black one from her mother that matches her hair, both now in crumpled waves. “Where have you been? Daeron has been in a state demanding to see you.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

A hand remains in her hair, the other on her hip. “He won’t stop crying. A nightmare, maybe? I put him to bed hours ago, and the handmaidens said he woke up screaming.”

“I’ll go to him.”

“Wait.” A palm meets his chest, square in the center. “What’s wrong?”

Aemond stares into the dark of their chambers just above her head before falling to her blue eyes. It was wiser not to speak.

The tips of her fingers are cold as they brush under his eye. Her short nails barely scrape his unmarred cheek. The wetness shines under the moon as she turns her palm to him.

He pulled out his usual excuse, putting a hand over his patch. “Eye pain.”

“Eye pain?”

“Yes.”

“Your upsets usually force you to rest, not tears.” She observes the residue before wiping it on her gown. “I haven’t seen it this bad since Baelon’s last name day.”

“Well, it happened. It comes in waves. Or sometimes a moment’s fit.” Another way to cover himself in the future. He’s discovered grief rises in him at inconvenient times. Gods love to torture. “I can’t control when they occur, Floris.”

“I never said you could. I just—”

“I need to see Daeron.”

The children sleep in the west wing of the Keep now. After what happened to Jaehaerys, Aemond insisted their rooms be away from the royal quarters. He made sure there was a guard at their doors day and night. Jaehaera included. Tonight, however, there were two guards outside Daeron’s door, appearing dazed and confused. Yet they still had the sense to bow to their prince.

Aemond opened the door to find five handmaidens completely helpless. But like the guards outside, Aemond was also confused when finding his son not screaming. His body only bounces in place like he had the hiccups. His head was down and he gripped his little golden blanket.

“He’s tired out his throat, my prince,” one handmaiden says. Her voice shakes.

Daeron looks up when hearing the title. His little eyes are puffy from crying so hard, and Aemond’s heart, merely hanging by chords, can still twist in on itself as he watches his boy’s lip quiver.

“Leave us, please,” Aemond says.

“Forgive us, my prince. We tried our best.”

Daeron rubs an eye with the heel of his hand. “Papa, my… throat hurts.” His voice sounds like he swallowed gravel from the training yard.

“I’m sure, sweetling. Hold on,” Aemond turns his head to the group. “My son is thirsty. Please, one of you fetch him some water. Add some essence of nightshade to help him sleep.”

Their curtsies blend with their departure. The door shuts behind him.

The candle on Daeron’s bedside table revealed the redness across his face, hot and sticky with tears. Aemond walks to the foot of the bed. He’s careful not to let his weight go too suddenly, recalling the height difference this time between this bed and Baelon’s. He’s not hesitant though with stretching out his arms. “Come here,” he says.

Daeron springs from his covers, leaving behind the small golden blanket as he crawls into Aemond’s lap. He hugs him at the neck while Aemond holds him at the waist. It’s a long hug, something they both need. He smells like outside, earthy yet sweet. He lets himself feel the boy’s fragile ribs steadying themselves. His father was here now. There was no need to worry. So they took in air as they needed it—with ease. When he pulls back, Aemond grabs the spare handkerchiefs left behind. Daeron still sniffled, but refused to blow his nose. Aemond pinches it instead.

“What’s upsetting you so much?”

“Am I to be Lord of Storm’s End?”

“What?”

Snot dribbles on the handkerchief. “I had a dream.”

Aemond cocks his head. “Tell me about it.”

“I had a dream that… that we went to Storm’s End to see Uncle Royce. But I was alone. And-and—”

“It’s alright.” Aemond rubs his son’s back. “It’s alright.”

“You wouldn’t let me fly Morning. I couldn’t get back home.”

Aemond gave pause as he listened to Daeron. The boy’s lip quivers again as Aemond’s thoughts swirl, shushing his son as he remembers Helaena. Aemond clears his throat. He smiled down at his son. “I know what this is,” he says with an exhale. “Come with me.” He holds him close as he stands up, walking across the rooms to settle at his window, the other side of King’s Landing before them. Aemond used Daeron’s fleshy arm to point. “What’s that building there?”

“S-Sept?”

“That’s right. The Grand Sept. Your Aunt Helaena is there. You never got the chance to meet her.” He petted Daeron’s head, white fluffy hairs that swept to the front and covered his forehead. He looks back up at Visenya’s Hill. The sept’s cylindrical corners and golden domes draw eyes to the center of the city. One of them held three bejeweled urns with their ashes inside, and Aemond dares not sniffle. “She would have dreams like yours, except she would often be awake. They would overwhelm her all the same. We didn’t understand them.”

“What happened?” He doesn’t look up at Aemond when he asks, only straight ahead at the sept. Meanwhile, Aemond blocks the memories; gore and blood still trailed the back of his mind if he ventured far enough. His leg bounces as he exhales slowly through his mouth, sounding like a haunting wind. Daeron didn’t notice. Aemond couldn’t gather an answer. What could he say? His sister went insane. She killed herself. He found her on Maegor’s spikes. She blamed herself for something that was his fault, and he never got to apologize.

“She lost her sons in the last war. Your cousin Jaehaera’s brothers.”

“Were they soldiers?”

“No, no.” He’s perfectly between Jaehaerys and Maelor in age. The ages they remain for the rest of time. He skips that. “But she loved them so much, losing them was too much to bear for her.” He rests his chin on Daeron’s head, just catching the tear streaking down his cheek before it dripped onto his son’s scalp. Observing the sept again, he longed to be ignorant of such despair. He shook Alyssa from his mind (as best as he could) to come back. “That’s how I feel about you.”

Daeron relaxed a little, his back touching Aemond’s chest. “But what about—” he coughs. “Uncle Royce.”

Aemond ignored the name. “These dreams can be very vivid. About things we already know. Your uncle named you heir, so you will be Lord of Storm’s End one day, yes. But you will go when you are ready.” He kissed Daeron’s head, inhaling his scent as he tried sniffling subtly. “We will ensure your brother receives proper training in royal proceedings as king. Your mother and I will ensure you’re prepared as a lord.”

Daeron doesn’t speak. He picks at the leather of Aemond’s jerkin.

Aemond, in return, hugs him tight with both arms. He gets close to his ear. “You’re not leaving me for a long, long time. Is that what you needed?”

He finally nods. His little white sideburns tickle his nose.

“Good. Because it’s the truth.” He picks him up again. “Now, time for bed.” His sniffling boy buried his head into his neck as he cuddled close, his fingers wrapped around the back. It was painful to do so, he could admit, but he still pried him off. His fingers slipped off him like broken stitches as he made him settle back in bed. He was reluctant, but gave him the golden one, avoiding the black stag sewn in the corner. He kissed the boy one more time before walking to the door.

“Papa?”

“Hm?”

“Uncle Royce. Where is he?”

“I assume at home.”

“But in my dream, I didn’t see him there. I said I was alone.”

Aemond blinks rapidly. “Perhaps… you didn’t venture far enough to find him.”

He rubs the satin edge of the Baratheon blanket.

“He loves you very much, Daeron. He wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“I know. I just don’t feel like he’s there.”

Aemond said nothing, only watched his son. His purple eyes, swollen and exhausted, darted up at Aemond briefly. They eventually went back down as he pulled his bigger blankets over his lap. Aemond could feel there was something else there, more his son wanted to say. And Aemond, for all the love he bears for his children, didn’t want to hear it tonight. So, he slowly turns on his heels.

“Papa?”

He suppressed his curse. “Yes?”

“Was… Aunt Helaena… were all her dreams true?”

Aemond swallowed thickly as he saw his wife do hours before he left for Flea Bottom. The truth is painful to keep down as he hears Helaena’s voice speaking of rats, then Jaehaerys’ head rolling on the floor just hours later. Still, Aemond looks his son in his beautiful purple eyes as he sternly says, “No. Now go to bed.”

Daeron doesn’t move for a moment, but eventually lays down. Neither of them say goodnight.

Finally, Aemond exits and heads back to his room. Keeping his head up, he pushes down his anguish with each step. He’s not out yet.

Floris barely waited for the door to close before she pounced. “Where have you been?” She is now the starkest thing in the room, all the candles alight again and casting a deep orange across their chambers and she is as dark as tonight’s sky. Only her cream skin contrasted with her hair and attire.

“I told you,” Aemond said. “At a meeting with the City Watch.”

“Her arms crossed over her small belly. “For two hours?”

“Yes.”

“When have you had a City Watch meeting last two hours?”

“Just now.”

“Aemond.”

“Floris, please.” He walks past her, cornering himself on the damn balcony. He lacks the courage to even glance at the city, choosing the brush below instead.

“What did this meeting consist of?” Her voice gets closer.

“My business with the City Watch.”

“Our baby boy wailed for his father.” Aemond can hear the way she bares her teeth. “And wherever this City Watch meeting occurred in the Keep, you were nowhere to be found.”

“It was a meeting in the city.” He spat out the first retort in his mind. “A dire meeting.”

“What could be so dire that you could not tend to your own son?”

“Someone killed a baby.”

The brewing storm halted with a catch in her breath. Her suspicion, though, is still strong around her. Aemond could smell it like rain in the air. He didn’t speak further. Rather, he found the nearest chair and fell into it. The barrier’s small columns blocked the city, similar to a cell as he thought of the woman he loved near the Old Gate. He cannot tell which one is the prisoner, as he pressed his temple with two fingers.

Floris crouched in her gown. Her gaze was heavy as Aemond did everything to keep from letting unnecessary information slip from him. “We took care of the killer. That’s what matters.”

Floris’ pale hand meets the crook of his arm. A thumb doesn’t brush back and forth like it did when his mother succumbed to her fever. The other arm does not wrap him in closer like it did when his nightmares of war jolted him and woke them both. Her thick brows didn’t slant in sympathy. They were straight and stern. “Whose baby was it?”

“What?”

“Whose baby was it?”

Aemond rips his arm away, the leather of his sleeve squeaking sharply from her grip. “What relevance is that?”

“Because you’re a kinslayer.” It rolls off her tongue so naturally.

“I’ve told you not to—”

“It’s what you’re known for, Aemond. I don’t understand how one baby would concern you.”

Aemond slams a fist on the arm of the iron chair as he stands, turning his back to his wife before facing her again. “You know I lost my nephews in the Dance.”

“After killing another.”

“Don’t!” His fingers curl into a fist. It’s when his father crosses his mind that he throws the force against his hip and lets out a shaky exhale. “Floris.”

“With your brother’s bastards rotting in the alleyways, I just don’t understand the difference.” She picks herself  up, pushing with her knees  and holding her belly. Aemond doesn’t help her.

“Because she wasn’t a bastard.” He spits out the words. Another lie, but he doesn’t care.

“Then whose baby was it?”

The chamber doors groan slowly. Aemond doesn’t move from his wife, but refuses to answer. Even as he sees her anger boil her skin and streak her cheeks, he keeps his mouth shut and watches the doors.

“Forgive me, my prince. Princess. I do not mean to disturb.”

“Cole.”

Even in a tunic and linen breeches, he stands like he wears his Kingsguard armor: feet apart, hands collected at his front. No blood in sight, and his hair is disheveled as if someone tore him from bed.

“Leave us,” Floris snaps over her shoulder.

“Cole, what news?” 

He delays in reply, clearing his throat. “Once again, we require your presence, my prince.”

“With what?” Aemond slips around Floris before she can stop him.

“With, uh, burial arrangements.”

Aemond stood still, frozen.

“If the baby has a family, they can decide for themselves,” Floris says. “I don’t understand why such matters require my husband.”

“The family is quite… distraught, princess. As a mother, I’m sure you can understand the idea of such pain.”

Floris’ eyes falter slightly to the floor before glaring back at Criston

“The maesters have wrapped the body and prepared her for her final journey.”

“I’ll go,” Aemond says.

Floris snatches Aemond at the arm. “No!” Her heels skid on the stone floor.

“Do you wish to see the child’s body yourself?” Aemond snaps back at her. “For proof she’s real and your husband has a heart?”

He expected Floris to let him go, in every sense of the phrase. But her small fists only coiled tighter around his forearm. Everything hard about her expression fractured before him. The blue in her eyes glisten brilliantly as she shakes. “Please, Aemond.”

“It won’t take long, princess. I assure you. Your husband will be back soon.”

“Don’t leave.”

Aemond sighs. But he looks his wife in the face as he pulls his arm from her hold a second time. He walks to Criston.

“Please.”

It falls on deaf ears.

Neither speak a word as they make their way through the Keep, nor create any sense of urgency with their footsteps. The only ones who look them in the face are a number of Gold Cloaks, either nodding or appearing extra sullen.

They don’t exit through the front doors. No disguises with them now. Instead, the pair navigate through Maegor’s tunnels to find their escape, opening one (of many) secret doors. The scale of Aegon’s High Hill meets them, the white waves of the Blackwater and a bobbing rowboat just below.

“How did you do it? Is Alyssa—”

“Not now.”

Criston jumps down first, landing on a small area of flat rock. He scales down the small mountain with ease, and Aemond follows with enough distance to not disturb each other’s footing. They hug the jagged walls and Aemond keeps his eye focused down on his own feet, his impaired sight working against him more than ever, with only moonlight just barely revealing shadows here and there. Criston even turned around to help him with some of the hill’s slimmer edges, but he refused, wanting to retain his focus. Over time (and with an absurd amount of patience), they meet at the bottom. They let the steep decline guide them to the small beach, meeting the rowboat.

“We have paid some Gold Cloaks to act as alibis in case your wife wants to inquire. They have already spread the word to others.”

The pools of Floris’ Baratheon blue eyes stick with him. She barely faltered upon word of her father’s fall in battle, nor a tear shed at his funeral. She maintained a grace fit for an unmoving force like her. Yet it was Aemond who pushed her tonight. He pushed her to tears. “And the maesters?” He inquires while clearing his throat. “What you said back there, that was true?”

Criston stretches his arms out to steady the boat. “Watch your step,” he tells him. But before Aemond can even take a step, he’s holding out his hand. Aemond looks down at it.

“I can get in fine on my own, Cole.”

“Just…” He gestures again and keeps it out until Aemond reluctantly takes it, one palm meeting the other. Criston guides him in and continues holding tight as the wood creaks under his boots. He doesn’t let go until Aemond sits down, the boat wobbling. Then Criston steps in on the other side, the Blackwater just missing his ankles, rocking the boat all the same. He grips the edges as he steadies it before reaching down.

Even the late night couldn’t hide the bundle of white waxy cloth, the small bloodless being that he held himself just hours ago. He can still feel the phantom wriggling in his arms from her twin’s screams. Now she is here, still. Still and cold as Criston handed her over. But even as the wind blows, Aemond hovers over her to shield her from the chill. He whispers to her as he does.

“I asked Maester Orwyle to wrap her, so we have another alibi should we need it. With her… injury…”

Aemond traces over her eye. Where her eye would be.

“There was no reason to suspect she was anything but a peasant child.”

“And Royce?”

“The less you know, the better.” Criston then pulls their weight with the boat’s oars as Aemond’s fingers brush the outline of his daughter’s face. The noise of moving water surrounds them as he pictures her. He pulled her into the world first, and he never thought bringing his third child into the world would affect him as deeply as his first two. He never imagined she would leave the world the way she came: wet and screaming.

It wasn’t until Criston docked the boat on the other side of the bay that he thought about asking where he—they—were being taken. He still stood unsteadily when stepping out, eyeing the breathing mountain amongst the young trees: his Vhagar. White birds that were perched on her spine flew when she picked up her head. She doesn’t yawn as she normally does when she wakes up, leaving Aemond to wonder, again, just what they’re doing here.

She peers from her high vantage point, neck fully stretched out as her acid green eyes peer at them both, watching them trudge through the brush of her dwelling. She sniffed the air harshly, sounding like a long hiss if Aemond wasn’t looking. Criston continues pushing the vegetation aside (as he had clearly done before, given the faint imprints of feet in the lush grass). It’s not until they make a circle around her that he sees the pyre; a shadow of dry black timber. Thick logs made the foundation as smaller sticks crossed each other to make the bed.

“She was a Targaryen,” Criston says. “She deserves a proper sendoff.”

Aemond clings to the cloth, securing her against his chest as if he is concealing her under his cloak all over again. He stares at the stick bed, and Vhagar lying behind it. Her chest rumbles, something like a hum that causes the earth to tremor under them. Her neck cranes down for a closer look, and Aemond can see the slashes in her pupils as he feels the creaking of her ancient joints when she tries standing.

“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Aemond tries adding some force behind his High Valyrian.

She doesn’t listen. One foot forward, and the ground quakes. Roots and leaves shiver. The length of yellow teeth come into view as she takes another sharp breath.

“Lykirī!”

Still nothing. Her snout is inches from his forehead as her sniffs are smaller and more rapid. Her pupils drop to his chest, then back to him as she nudges him. Aemond has to step back to replant himself, but doesn’t order her to be still. His hold on Alyssa remains firm, closer to his chest than her mouth. She closes her lips, and the vibrancy of her eyes disappears when they do the same. Aemond’s forehead meets her snout, and Vhagar is silent as Aemond keeps his sobs down. He clenches his teeth hard and his jaw already aches from the tension.

Eventually, Vhagar steps back, leaving Aemond to walk to the pyre. He was not sure how long it took him to get there. Neither Criston nor Vhagar spoke. The strain from his temples to his eye, and now his jaw, made every step feel glacial. But eventually he did. He couldn’t imagine the sticks being more comfortable than that cot, but he didn’t pick her back up. He swallowed the snot and bile, meeting in the middle of his throat as he stepped back. Criston stood next to him. Vhagar looked at him.

“Dracarys.” He orders it as pathetically as he did before.

Again, she doesn’t follow him. She opens her mouth with no dragonfire. Her massive head twitches to one side, looking at him as she did the first time he ordered her to fly at Driftmark. But just as Aemond can feel the ache in her bones, she can feel the chains in his chest.

Neither of them wants to do this.

Aemond takes a breath, swallowing something like courage. “Dohaerās, Vhagar! Dracarys!”

Her head drew back with another hiss and her pupils thin out before her eyes close. Her neck curls back and she stretches her jaw. It’s always slow. Even the green color that lights up her mouth. He would be convinced that the pyre lit at the same speed, but Aemond fell into the grass; his knees giving in like the wood did under the intense heat.

Criston is still there as Aemond sobs freely, the sounds of it drowned out by the cracks of sticks and logs. He holds Aemond tightly as he buries his face into Criston’s shoulder. “It’s beautiful,” he tells him. “She’s ascending to the heavens where she belongs. No one can hurt her anymore.”

Aemond blocks his nose in the cloth of Criston’s shirt, sucking in air through his mouth so he doesn’t smell any of it. He remembers how Helaena wailed when she held Jaehaerys, his body limp and the blood soaking into her dress. The woman he loves screamed the same way. The cry of emptiness, a gaping wound inside. Aemond doesn’t have the lungs to scream like that. He just thinks of Helaena on the spikes. “I have to go to her,” he finally says. He pulls away, and Criston’s silhouette is nothing but a bleary shadow. “I have to before—”

“You know she doesn’t want to see you.”

“It doesn’t mean she won’t need me. We still have a child to take care of.”

“She has a child to take care of. You have three. Two of them are here. Another will be in the coming months, and your wife does not need the extra stress of questioning your whereabouts.”

Criston now sandwiches Aemond’s face between his hands. He doesn’t scream at him, but the force of the bones in his hands is hard against his skull.

“Don’t make me build a pyre for your fifth child, Aemond.”

His voice catches in his throat. Neither mother of his children wishes to see him now. Helaena once felt the same, but Aemond’s mistakes called him and Aegon to war, leaving her to grieve on her own. He turns to the pyre, a green haze that occasionally spits at the sky. The smoke burns his nose, making his eye clench shut against the sting. In that darkness, he remembers his mother and the knife to Rhaenyra’s eye. She understood sacrifice. And it was now his turn.

Criston stands up. His outline is still blurry and black, but Aemond can just see his hand outstretched for him. “Your family needs you.”

Aemond remembered his role. And he took Criston’s hand.

Taglist: @paprikaquinn @immyowndefender @teal-anchor @dixie-elocin

[wileys-russo]

Alessia Russo, “You are not wearing that.”, older sister Russo that’s overly protective

(Maybe reader plays for Arsenal and the team is going to a bar?)

sisterly duties II a.russo

"you're coming right?" kyra asked, bumping her shoulder into you as the team all discussed their upcoming night out, having just won 6-0 and all riding out the high of victory.

"no she's not!" your older sister chimed in before you could even answer. "what! yes i am." you scoffed sending her a filthy look across the room as alessia rolled her eyes.

"oo you're so scary." the taller girl mocked with a pout as you continued to glare in her direction. "she's got assignments to do and she's too young to go to a bar." alessia again answered for you, packing up her belongings ready to head off.

"i am not! i'm nineteen you pillock and i have all day tomorrow to finish my assignment." you rolled your eyes now on the receiving end of her own filthy look. "you're not going." your sister warned again, kyra whistling and sliding a little further away from you not wanting to be involved.

"yes, i am." you locked eyes with her, both of you refusing to look away as the air around you became incredibly frosty. "oh lighten up less! let the kid come and let her hair down she played a brilliant game." leah came to your rescue as you hugged her leg.

"see! co-captain says i can go. you're outranked alyssa." you smirked as her jaw clenched at the purposeful misuse of her name, a simple thing which you knew wound her up to no end having had nineteen years to learn all the ways to get under your sisters skin.

"you always let her get away with everything! you're such a pushover." alessia muttered, sending you another murderous glare as leah grinned. "she's my little protege less, i've gotta look after her so she can follow in my footsteps." leah pinched your cheek with a wink as your smile widened.

"your protege? she's my little sister williamson not yours!" alessia huffed, zipping up her backpack with a roll of her eyes. "yeah but i have actual hopes to be a successful footballer like leah, not some washed up at twenty four striker like you." you smirked as leah coughed to cover up her laugh and walked off.

"no leah come back!" your eyes widened as suddenly you were left defenseless as alessia stood, and you the shortest of all your siblings she easily towered over you with a mean look.

"i love you?" you smiled charmingly, flinching as she raised her arm but it was only to grab your bag from beside you. "hurry up." was all she said, nodding for emily to follow after her who she was giving a lift home as you breathed a sigh of relief.

but just maybe, you should have known better than to assume she'd let your little insult go unpunished.

you were sat in the back of your sisters mercedes with your headphones over your ears, eyes closed and head swaying a little side to side, rather listening to your own music than your sisters polar opposite tastes she had blasting from her speakers.

you hissed as suddenly there was a pinch to your knee, opening your eyes and glaring back at the baby blues which were alight with amusement, slipping your headphones down around your neck with a raised eyebrow.

"what alessia?" you sighed tiredly, the intensity of the game and performance today catching up to you.

"out you get." alessia nodded to the door as you sent her a confused frown, not missing the apologetic wince sent your way through the rearview mirror by emily who sat in the passenger seat.

"what? we're not home yet we haven't even dropped foxy off." your frown deepened, glancing out the window and not recognising the street in which she'd pulled over. "very good. now get out!" your sister mocked sarcastically, motioning for you to leave.

"but i don't know where we are!" you protested as alessia shrugged. "i don't care, you can walk the rest of the way home. out!" the older girl warned, eyes narrowing as if daring you to challenge her as you huffed and unbuckled yourself.

"you are seriously going to make me walk home?" you questioned in disbelief, hand hovering on the door as your sister nodded. "yeah i am. you want to act like a child i'll treat you like one. now out! before i come and make you." the blonde warned seriously as you looked to her teammate for help.

"oh don't look at her! she's not driving." alessia laughed as you scoffed and got out, knowing the taller girl was serious in her threat of dragging you from the car and you'd like to keep a shred of your dignity.

"less this says its a forty five minute walk!" you protested checking your maps app, stood on the sidewalk with wide eyes. "then thats forty five minutes to think about how actions have consequences isn't it? consider this a timeout then, baby russo." your sister smirked starting up the car again.

"all of this for one little teasing comment! you're fucking unhinged alessia!" you scowled as the older girl reached back and grabbed your bag, leaning over emily and dangling it out of the open window as you hurried to grab it before she let go.

"maybe, but you're a nightmare sometimes so it evens out." alessia smiled sweetly. "wait less i don't have keys!" you remembered, your keys still on the hook inside your shared apartment with her since you knew your sister would have her own set.

"oh no. sure hope you don't beat me home then!" the blonde pouted in mock sympathy before grinning and pulling away from the sidewalk and speeding off as you threw your head back with a loud groan.

grumbling obscenities under your breath you shrugged your bag on and stormed off, feet slapping the pavement as you were fueled by anger, shaking your head and tapping away aggressively at your phone before holding it up to your ear.

"mum? you will never guess what alessia's done to me this time!"

~

your anger was still there simmering at the surface as you finally rounded a corner and your complex was in sight, exhaling in relief as your legs ached and you dragged yourself the last hundred or so metres.

but realizing you didn't have your keys which also contained your security tag you let out a pained whine, punching in your apartment number and waiting as the dial tone rang, hugging yourself tightly as the wind picked up.

"yes? did you enjoy your walk?" you could hear the smirk in her voice and immediately wished it was in your sights so you could slap it off of her. "let me in." you grumbled with a huff, shivering a little and glancing upwards as there was a rumble of thunder in the distance.

"did you learn your lesson?" your sister continued as you took a deep breath, knowing that as much as you despised so she really did have all of the power in this situation. "let me in." you repeated with a roll of your eyes.

"apologize first and i'll consider it." she sung out happily and you knew she wasn't alone as several voices called out for her to just buzz you up which she ignored. "less!" you groaned tiredly which she mocked groaning your own name back at you.

"repeat after me; i am so very very sorry for my disrespect because i'm just an insufferable, over dramatic, annoying, immature little shit." alessia ordered as again you took a deep breath.

"i am so very very sorry for your disrespect because you're just an insufferable, over dramatic, annoying, immature little shit." you parroted back with a satisfied grin, the silence that met your response showing she hadn't expected it as finally someone shoved her out of the way and buzzed you in.

with a sigh of relief you hurried inside the building but realizing again you didn't have your security tag you weren't able to access the elevator as you paused to exhale deeply, thinking of all the ways you could murder your sister and get away with it as you had no choice but to take the stairs up to the fourth floor.

if you weren't tired before your legs were basically jelly by the time you kicked open the door to your floor and staggered toward the apartment.

you knocked twice and it swung open revealing lotte who winced sympathetically and opened her arms to hug you but in no mood for it you pushed right past her.

"you told mum on me? seriously? you're such a baby!" you heard alessia laugh from somewhere in the room and you clocked there was two other bodies beside her own sat on the lounge as you ignored everything and made a beeline for your room, making a point to slam your door harshly behind you.

"don't you slam your door!" alessia yelled from the lounge, standing to follow after you with a scowl as lotte pulled her back down with a shake of her head.

"let her cool off less, then you can go and apologise." she patted the strikers shoulder who scoffed. "me? why am i having to say sorry!" she sank back into the lounge with crossed arms.

"um maybe the fact you made her walk like 5 miles home after she played a full ninety minute game?" emily chuckled as both of her friends stared down at her and alessia groaned.

"fine! maybe it was a little harsh." "a little?"

"whats this really about less? i've seen the two of you say much worse things to one another than her joking about you being washed up." lotte questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"why does she idolise leah so much? she's always following her around and they hang out all the time and she's always going on and on about how great leah is and how much she wants to be like leah!" alessia muttered with a roll of her eyes as emily and lotte shared a knowing look.

"she used to follow me around and want to hang out with me and want to play football like me! she's been training as a striker nearly her whole life until she met leah and suddenly defense is all she cares about." alessia mumbled with a huff.

"have you spoke to her about any of this?" lotte questioned with a small smile. "no! she'd just make some smart ass comment about me being needy or something. and i don't need her to want to be like me!" alessia scoffed, meeting her friends eyes.

"okay fine i miss when she idolised me instead and was my little shadow and my protege, not leahs!" alessia admitted with a deep sigh, dragging her hands down her face.

"have you considered maybe she doesn't want to just be your shadow? she'll always look up to you as her big sister less but with football she probably wants to write her own story and have her own career, not have everything she does feel compared to what you've already done." emily spoke softly as alessia frowned, not having considered that before.

"i hate when the two of you are right!" alessia huffed, hauling herself up as the two brunettes grinned and high fived watching her head toward your room.

you heard her knock but ignored it, burying your head under the covers as your door opened and clicked shut again. "go away!" you huffed as your bed squeaked and dipped.

"i'm really sorry for making you walk home, i took it too far." you ripped the covers off and gave her a look of disbelief at the seemingly sincere apology. "what? i am, really." alessia frowned at the look of suspicion on your face.

"can i get that one more time on tape?" you questioned as your sisters eyes rolled and she gently hit you over the covers as you sat up. "sorry for saying you're washed up, you know i don't think that." you apologised back as she smiled gratefully.

"what do you think?" alessia asked, raising an eyebrow as your eyes rolled. "don't bait me for compliments you get enough of those." you teased as she now rolled her eyes.

"i love you." alessia patted your leg still stuck beneath your duvet as you hummed, purposefully not saying it back. "say it back!" your sister ordered, eyebrows furrowing as you grinned.

"i also love me, i love that we have that in common." you smiled as her eyes narrowed and she launched at you. "get off me! you weigh like a tonne." you groaned as she sat her much taller form on top of you causing you to grunt.

"don't body shame me!" alessia gasped, pinching and poking at you as you struggled to throw her off. "i love you too! now get off you're gonna break my ribs." you groaned as she ragdolled on top of you, squealing as you finally got your legs under her and kicked her off onto the floor.

"get out so i can shower! i need a drink." you huffed as she stood, punching you sharply in the arm with a smirk before darting out of your room before you could retaliate.

~

"hurry up! my god you're like four foot tall how does it take you so long to get dressed?" alessia yelled impatiently, tapping her foot and checking the time on her phone, banging on the bathroom door.

"i am five foot four. and it takes time to look this good alyssa!" you finally opened the door and stepped out, grinning as lotte whistled. "you're not wearing that. go change, right now!" your older sister ordered protectively as your face dropped.

"what! your dress is shorter than mine." you accused as she shrugged. "i'm older i'm allowed to wear whatever i want. you're a baby not a hooker, go change!" your jaw dropped at her words.

"alessia! you can't slut shame or sex work shame now its 2024." you reminded as emily and lotte hummed their agreement. "i was not! but you're not wearing that, go and put on something more age appropriate." the blonde crossed her arms and blocked the hallway with her body as you tried to pass her, giving in with a scowl and retreating.

"you're so fucking overprotective!" you yelled as you stomped down the hall.

"hey thats not your room!" your sister frowned as you took a left and entered her room. "i know, i'm wearing that black dress you wore to mums birthday dinner." you announced with a smirk as your sisters eyes widened.

"oh no you're not! don't you dare even look at anything in-" her door slammed in her face with a lock as she gasped and pounded on it with her fist.

"you have exactly three seconds to get out here you little toad and go to your own room before i break this door and your legs!" alessia yelled threateningly.

"should we just call an uber?" emily mumbled to lotte at the other end of the hallway.

"i already called one they're downstairs right now. lets go before she realises!"

[daenysx]

AEMOND TARGARYEN (PART 2)

one shots

i'll crawl home to her

-aemond needs to get you back.

little moments

-you want to spend a work-free night with your boyfriend. he follows your lead.

blurred boundaries

-you have a secret relationship with your boss modern!aemond.

burning desire

-you fake an orgasm with modern!aemond because you're stressed. he tries to fix things for you.

drabbles

09.49 PM (for the dreamer girl sleepover)

12.00 AM (for the dreamer girl sleepover)

modern!aemond and you go to shopping for christmas decorations

modern!aemond feels like he's not doing enough, pregnant!you reassure him

modern!aemond is a huge flirt when the photographer is his girlfriend

modern!aemond spends an evening with his son aelyx

modern!aemond wants to stay at home with you, unfortunately he can't

modern!aemond and you talk about your future children

modern!aemond's love language is gift giving

modern!aemond and you take a walk after you meet with his family

you get matching sweaters for yourself and modern!aemond

modern!aemond is grateful that the girl at the coffee shop doesn't know who he is

modern!aemond and you have a nice dinner out

modern!aemond comforts you when you feel anxious over new season

you get baby fever when you see aemond with maelor

modern!aemond and you find out about your baby's gender

modern!aemond gets worried when you call him from hospital

a bedtime routine in targaryen household with two kids

modern!aemond and you find out about your pregnancy

modern!aemond comforts alyssa when she can't sleep because of a horror movie

modern!aemond gets home to a nice dinner table and his two girls

modern!aemond takes care of baby alyssa when you sleep

modern!aemond helps his kids with a school project

modern!aemond tries to reassure you when you feel insecure of your body after giving birth

the birth of your son with modern!aemond

modern!aemond is desperate to come inside you

modern!aemond talks to your baby when she's restless in your belly

you want to celebrate modern!aemond's new business deal, he doesn't know why

modern!aemond, you, and your babygirl go shopping

modern!aemond tries to help insomniac!you

you're touching yourself to the thought of your academic rival modern!aemond

modern!aemond is trying read his book but you want to do something else

modern!aemond loves that you have oral fixation

prequel for modern!aemond x reader with oral fixation

modern!aemond teases you

modern!aemond helps you relax when you're stressed

you have a pregnancy craving in the middle of the night

you wanna go out when it's sunny but modern!aemond disagrees

you use safeword with modern!aemond

modern!aemond is in pain and you try to help him

modern!aemond is proud of you when you graduate

modern!aemond is in love with aegon's best friend

modern!aemond reassures you after hearing rumors about alys

you ask for a neck massage but modern!aemond has something else in his mind to comfort you

you and modern!aemond are both inexperienced in relationships

modern!aemond knows what to do when you're overwhelmed

prince aemond is in pain, you hold him until he's okay

you mark modern!aemond's skin with your nails (he loves it)

you take care of modern!aemond after a busy day at the office

modern!aemond is grateful you put up with his family

headcanons

modern!aemond as a dad

concepts

5.27 PM (for the sad girl sleepover)

you're in love with prince aemond and you've never been more hurt

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

So Soon || D. Targaryen x oc (Dear Motherhood Series)

GIF by @claramaximoff DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: Leyla is in denial that she may be blessed with another child again so soon after giving birth to her third child.

Dear Motherhood Series Masterlist

“Can’t you make it any tighter?” Leyla groans as her closest handmaiden, Alyssane, struggles to tighten her dress . “Not if you want to breathe, my Lady” She chuckles before going back to work.

The young hightower lets out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t understand-“ “Perhaps, sister, you have been blessed again” Alicent pipes in, her eyes looking up from the book she was occupied with. Leyla turned her head to her older sister’s direction. She chortled at the suggestion.

“Don’t be ridiculous, sister. I just had a baby” She said in a matter of fact tone, her hand resting on her stomach. She honestly couldn’t imagine having another kid so soon. Only being eighteen and possibly having four kids already? There was no response apart from a simple hum. Leyla looked at herself through the mirror. There could be a possibility but there was no way she was pregnant that soon.

~

“That bastard should be fed to Caraxes for thieving in our bedchambers!” Daemon fumes as he paces infront of the breakfast table where Leyla sat, a 10 day old Aegon in her arms as Alyssa and Baelon played with their wet nurse.

“He didn’t steal anything of value, Husband. Besides, he’s locked up now-“ “But what if you were there when he came in hm?” Her voice was cut off by his. “W-what if the children were there, especially if Aegon was there sleeping-“ “Which he wasn’t. Daemon, it’s alright. The children are alright. And you know that they are always accompanied.”

Leyla takes ahold of Daemon’s forearm as he looks down at her. “If something ever were to happen to our children and I wasn’t able to help it, I would never forgive myself.” He stares intensely at his wife. “Nothing is going to happen to them” She gives a reassuring smile before looking down at Aegon.

Daemon’s face softens as he looks down at his son in awe. “Breakfast, my Prince, my Lady” A maid curtsies as plates of food were placed in front of the couple. Leyla’s face scrunches in disgust. “Is there a problem?” Daemon questions noticing her twisted face.

She didn’t know what overcame her but the smell of the food was overwhelming her and making her sick in the stomach. “I-God I feel like I’m going to throw up” Leyla abruptly stands up passing Aegon to the wet nurse and leaving the room.

“Children,” Daemon calls out. Both Alyssa and Baelon look at their father, “Come here and eat breakfast while I check on your mother” He simply says before following his wife.

“Leyla?” Daemon knocks on their door to the their bedchambers. Silence greeted the prince before footsteps could be heard. Leyla opens the door with an awkward smile. “Are you alright?” Daemon raises an eyebrow at his wife as she nodded. “Quite. I think I just need water” She brushes past him without saying another word.

~

Not even a month later, everyone at court were whispering about speculations that Leyla and Daemon were expecting their fourth child. Their theirs child, Aegon, had only been born a mere twenty days ago.

When Leyla walked through the corridors of the Red Keep, whispers stopped as they glance at the young mother. She had no idea that it had spread around, and was the topic of everyone’s conversation. But she could wrap her head around why.

Maybe it was because she just had Aegon not even two weeks ago? Maybe it was simply because they were shocked that she was expecting another child only at the age of eighteen with three children under her wing. People would have never expected Daemon to be father of four children, let alone one

“I think I’m with child again, sister” Leyla holds Alicent’s hands in hers as she sniffled, tears welling in her eyes. “Oh but that is such good news Leyla-“ She stops mid sentence as she notices Leyla’s unhappy face.

“Why aren’t you happy then? You love your children plus-“ “Of course I love my children Alicent!” She snaps, “I love them, truly, with all my heart but I just dread-“ Leyla takes a deep breath calming herself down slightly and takes a seat beside Alicent.

“It’s not the children that I hate, God of course not” She lightly chuckles at herself, “It’s the pregnancies I have to endure for nine unbearable months” Leyla sits there fidgeting with her fingers. Alicent opens her mouth but nothing comes out.

She had no idea her sister felt that way. “Can you imagine swelling up and everyone whispering behind your back? Whispers about how I’m carrying Daemon’s child at this age or how I’m incapable of raising children.” Tears slowly fall down Leyla’s cheeks before Alicent embraces her younger sister in a much needed hug.

“I am so sorry. I never knew you felt that way Leyla” Alicent quietly spoke as she rubbed her sisters’ back in comfort. The younger Hightower pulls back, wipes her tears, and gives a small smile. “Father would be happy wouldn’t he?” She laughs to herself as Alicent frowns.

“Leyla you shouldn’t care about what Father thinks,” Leyla knew that. She really shouldn’t. After all, he was the main root of this all. Forcing her to marriage the Prince only at fifteen and ever pressuring her to bear his children so quickly. But deep down she did want Otto’s approval. “I know.”

~

tike-skip to the end of Second Choice ~

“Daemon?” Leyla starts, “Hmm?” Daemon hums, busy with peppering your hand with kisses. “I’m pregnant.” He pauses his actions as he stares at his wife in shock. “Say something, please.” Leyla grows anxious.

Next thing she knew, Daemon made his way to her and kissed her. “That is wonderful news, sweet girl. Our family only keeps growing” He says softly as he looks at their children. Leyla says nothing but just smiles.

“Are you not happy?” The Prince looks down at her as he notices her silence. She pulls him down to sit beside her. “Of course I’m happy Daemon-“ “But?” He interrupts.

Tears started forming in her eyes once again. “It is just so soon, Daemon.” She shakes her head, Daemon stays silent and listens. “I’m blessed to be carrying your child, truly, but I just had Aegon, not even a month ago. This is all happening so fast, I’m eighteen and now I’ll be mother to four?” She furrows her eyebrows, her gaze on the fireplace infront of her.

“Being pregnant is nothing but draining, Husband.” Leyla finally looks at Daemon. He doesn’t utter a word but instead, he pulls Leyla in for a hug. “iksā sīr kostōba se nēdenka, nyke gīmigon kostā gaomagon bisa. iksan kesīr tolvie dekuragon hen ñuhoso” He whispers in his mothers’ tongue. Something Leyla had mastered to understand. (you are so strong and brave, i know you can do this. i am here every step of the way)

“I’m so grateful to have you with me as my Husband, and father to our darling children” She cracks a smile. Her gaze once again drifting to her beautiful children.

~

and the first one shot to the dear motherhood series is done!! let me know if you enjoyed it, i can’t wait to write more of these :) lmk if u wanna be in the taglist for this series

taglist

@bellstwd

[maidragoste]

3 people you thought you might marry + one of the people you married.

Hi, this is part of the universe of "The Queen and her husbands" but it can be read independently without having read the series.

Thanks for all the support, it always makes me happy to answer your questions and comments. REBLOGS and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

I. Jacaerys Velaryon

No one could blame you for thinking you would marry your brother after all it was your family's customs. Aegon the Conqueror married his two sisters, Visenya and Rhaenys; Jaehaerys also married his sister Alysanne; and your great-grandparents Baelon and Alyssa Targaryen were also siblings. So it was only natural that you thought that you and Jace would follow in his footsteps.

Jacaerys would be king and you would be his queen. Your grandfather, King Viserys, told them once when he was sitting on the iron throne with both of you on his lap. From there you and your brother began to imagine what your future together would be like.

Sometimes in the early morning, you would crawl into Jace's bed and the two of you would discuss the things you would do once you were both king and queen. They were silly things like forbidding bedtime or forbidding vegetables in your meal after all you two were just kids. Even so, they both dreamed of being as loved as King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne once were. Then they both began to take their role seriously and tried harder in their lessons, Jacaerys tried to speak her Valyrian more fluently and you tried to pay more attention to numbers so that in the future you could manage the kingdom's currency well.

You were sure you would be happy with Jace. He already made you happy, listening to you, bringing you flowers from the gardens when you were sad, and being your accomplice when the two of you went to steal cakes from the kitchens. You know him better than anyone and he knows you. You two are half of each other. You love him and he loves you.

Every time Jace smiled at you you felt warm. Every time he takes your hand you feel safe and when they hug you, you are sure you can hear both of their hearts racing as if they were just one.

None of that matters because a year after you and Jace began to dream of a future together, your mother forbade you from going to Jacaerys' chambers alone at night again because she was planning an engagement between him and Helaena.

You got angry with your mother but especially with your brother because you thought he would fight for you but he didn't do anything. You locked yourself in your chambers for days without wanting to see either of them. You ended up getting out thanks to Aegon, who took you flying with Sunfyre.

II. Clement Celtigar

You weren't stupid. You knew that your mother was thinking about a possible match between you and Bartimos Celtigar's son. Lately, every time you went to Dragonstone to visit your siblings the Celtigar family was also there and your mother pushed you to spend time with Clement.

You didn't like him. Maybe if your mother didn't force you so much to be with him you'd probably like him more. But you only came to Dragonstone to see your brothers and spending time with Clement took away valuable time with your family. Jace was also upset by this, you think this is the first time you've heard him turn against your mother.

The truth is you were bored spending time with Clement. He didn't make you laugh like Aegon did and his conversations weren't as interesting as the ones you had with Aemond.

Clement seemed more interested in your dragon than you. You didn't blame him, after all, Nix was beautiful and it was normal for people to be curious about dragons since they were such magnificent creatures but you couldn't help but feel irritated because it seemed like the only attractive thing about you was your dragon. He looked at you with boredom every time you talked about something other than Nix, which made you feel insecure because you were starting to think that maybe the problem was you, that in reality, you were the boring one, not him. You even started to think that maybe you were boring Aemond too but he was too kind to pretend that he was interested in listening to you talk about the books you read and your visits to orphanages.

When you returned to King's Landing, Aemond noticed that you were quieter and the few times you spoke it was in short sentences and without elaborating so much. So he knew something had happened on your visit to Dragonstone. He couldn't stand seeing you withdrawn anymore, nothing to do with your bubbly and radiant energy, so he decided to ask you what happened in the hope of being able to help you solve whatever was bothering you so you would be your usual self again.

“Will you tell me once and for all what happened in Dragonstone?” the prince asked, pulling you from your reading. The two were in the gardens reading. Normally the two of you would take turns reading aloud but now you found yourself reading different books because you told Aemond that you were sure your book would bore him.

If it were someone else you probably would have lied and claimed that everything was fine. But it was Aemond and he knew you better than anyone. For some reason, he always seemed to be the first to notice when you were upset or sad.

“Do you think I'm boring?” You closed your book and left it on your lap.

"Of course not," the prince responded instantly. "Who told you that?" he asked, annoyed, already thinking of ordering whoever had bothered you to join him in his training so he could attack him without anyone scolding him.

“Clement Celtigar. He didn't tell me but I think he thinks I'm boring” you admitted embarrassedly, nervously grabbing the necklace that Aemond had given you on your last name day. Now you were afraid that your uncle would think you were stupid for caring so much about a boy's opinion.

"Since when do you care about Clement Celtigar's opinion?" He asked with a frown. Weeks ago you were complaining about having to spend time with the heir of Paw Island and now you were suddenly worried about him.

"I want him to like me. I could marry him one day" you said regretfully. Every time you tried to imagine a future with Clement you always found yourself unhappy. You wouldn't say Clement was a bad man but right now you didn't think you could ever love him. A part of you thought that it didn't matter who you married because you would still be unhappy having to leave King's Landing. You knew it was your duty but you always felt sad thinking that you would no longer be able to see Aemond or Aegon every day. Although you barely saw Aegon lately he seemed to prefer spending more time in Flea Bottom.

Your words seemed to irritate Aemond even more because he seemed angry now.

"You like him?"

"No" you responded instantly and couldn't help but grimace.

"Your mother is a fool," he said, earning a nudge from you.

"Aemond!"

After your father's death, the relationship between you and your mother was not the same, you were no longer as close as before, and sometimes you couldn't help but hate her, but you still couldn't allow anyone to speak ill of her.

"You are a Targaryen princess, you can't marry just anyone, a Celtigar is beneath you. You should marry someone of your level. Plus we have to keep the Valyrian blood pure" he said passionately.

"So should I marry you?" You couldn't help but laugh as you watched Aemond's cheeks turn red at your question. Normally the prince would be angry that someone was laughing at him but after not having heard your laugh for days He was happy. He looked at you with a small smile, trying to ignore the rapid pace of his heart.

"Someday, if you want" Aemond responded, trying to remain calm but his heart did not return to its normal rhythm and he felt suddenly hot, especially on his face.

You didn't say anything else, you just walked up to the prince and kissed his cheek making him blush even more.

Anyway, you didn't have to worry much about Clement because weeks later any possible engagement between you was forgotten after Jacaerys had beaten him.

III. Kermit Tully

You were tired after dancing with Kermit. You lost count of the number of songs you danced together. Your feet hurt but if he asked you again to be his dance partner you wouldn't hesitate to say yes. You were happy. You enjoyed his company, you liked listening to him talk about Riverrun and the pranks he and his brother sometimes got into. Besides, Kermit was brave, or at least brave enough to be the only one who dared to ask you for your favor despite the angry looks of your uncles and Jace. He was handsome too. Sometimes you felt like running your hand through his red hair and bringing your face closer to his to see what color his eyes were, but that wouldn't be seen well.

You couldn't help but let your eyes wander around the room until you found Kermit, he was talking to his family, and as if he had felt your gaze, his clear eyes soon met yours. He smiled at you and you smiled at him, trying to ignore the heat you felt on your face. You couldn't help but wonder what your children would be like if you two ever had children if they would have Kermit's smile or yours, have your traits, or gain the Tully genes. You loved your family but you were already bored seeing so many platinum hair, so it wouldn't bother you if your children came out with red hair, they would be unique. Anyway, regardless of their hair color, you were sure they would have cute children.

"Oh gods, he's just a boy. There's nothing special about him," Aegon said, sitting next to you, making you look at him.

“He only seems like a boy to you because you're older than him,” you responded, rolling your eyes.

"He is a boy. I'm sure he doesn't even know how to satisfy a woman. I can satisfy you,” he said, taking you by the chin. You suddenly felt warm at the intensity of his gaze. If he came a little closer, his lips would touch yours. You were sure you weren't the only one to notice that so you pushed his arm away.

“Oh, uncle, you shouldn't drink so much. Your jokes aren't as funny as you think!" you exclaimed louder than normal, hoping that the people closest to you would think it was one of Aegon's drunken nonsense instead of thinking there was something between him and you. The last thing you needed was for the court to start gossiping that you were Aegon's mistress. Aemond would be furious with you as would your brothers and your mother. Besides, you might lose the chance to get engaged to Kermit.

The prince frowned at you before taking a long drink from his cup.

“Why do you want a trout when you can have a dragon?” he asked, not bothering to hide his displeasure. He didn't surprise you. Your family's custom was to marry each other, for that reason, your uncles thought that any man who was not a Targaryen was not worthy of you.

Aegon was wrong. You couldn't have a dragon. Your mother needed you to make alliances that's why she wouldn't let you marry Jace and much less would she let you marry Aemond or Daeron. But maybe if you asked she could let you marry Kermit. You'd rather choose your own fiancé before she chooses one for you.

“Maybe I'm tired of so many dragons.”

Of course, you were lying. Actually one of the reasons you wanted to get married was to get away from King's Landing. Riverrun sounded wonderful and you hoped that there you could forget about your feelings for Aemond. Lately, you had spent your nights thinking about him, dreaming about a wedding that would never happen and when you were together you couldn't concentrate on what he was telling you because you got distracted thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. Your heart seemed to jump out of your chest every time he smiled at you or complimented you. Gods, you felt so stupid, you needed to forget him or you'd end up heartbroken because nothing would happen between the two of you. The family wouldn't approve.

You hoped that if you didn't see Aemond every day you would realize your feelings for him would be forgotten. Besides, you believed that Kermit Tully would be able to win you over as well. You could see yourself happy next to him.

What you never imagined was that after the celebration was over, Aemond, jealous of your approach to Kermit, would appear in your room and kiss you. The most sensible thing would have been to kick him out and continue with your plan to marry Kermit Tully, but how could you do that when you now knew that he also felt the same way as you? How could you move on now that you know what his lips taste like? How could you do it when you finally had what your heart longed for? You knew that now that you had tasted what it was like to have him, there was no turning back. You couldn't marry anyone else.

+

I. Aemond Targaryen

You should be furious with Aemond after how he treated your brothers at dinner. You should be kicking his ass after he calls your brothers bastards. Because of him, your family had returned to Dragonstone, and you were barely able to say goodbye to Jace.

You should want to keep Aemond away after what he did tonight. How could you be with someone who treated your brothers like that? What did that say about you? But you couldn't help it. The heart wants what it wants. For that reason, you find yourself in the middle of the night on the outskirts of the Red Keep with only the company of a septon and you Aemond. Getting married secretly.

If someone had told you that same morning that you would end up marrying Aemond tonight you would have laughed. Sure, you've been in a relationship for a while, and from time to time you talked about what your wedding would be like but you honestly didn't think you two were brave enough to get married and ignore your families' wishes. But today you realized that you were wrong. Aemond was angry because your mother in the middle of dinner asked your grandfather for her blessing to arrange a marriage between you and Cregan Stark. An hour after dinner ended, he entered your chambers and told you that you would marry him, that he was not going to let you go to the North, that he was not going to allow your mother to separate you, that your place was at his side, that you both belonged to each other and most importantly that he loves you.

You never imagined your wedding would be like this. You always thought your family would be by your side. When you were a little girl you imagined your father giving you away but after he died you thought he would be your grandfather. But now you were alone.

You also imagined that you would make your maiden cape with the help of your mother, your grandmother, and your cousins. But not. You were getting married without a cape because there was no time to make one. At least Aemond had managed to take the cloak that Aegon had worn at his wedding to Helaena so when he arrived in time he could put the cloak on you.

Your hand didn't stop shaking as the septon tied the ribbon over both of your hands. You honestly didn't know if your trembling was due to the excitement of finally being able to be Aemond's wife or because of the nerves you had knowing the repercussions that your marriage would have. You just hoped your brothers didn't hate you. Your vision became blurry for a moment due to the tears that were forming in your eyes. Jace couldn't hate you, he would understand, you couldn't let your son be a bastard.

You took a deep breath and focused on ignoring your nerves and sudden sadness. This is your wedding and it is a happy occasion. This is what you wanted. Now no one can separate you from Aemond. You smiled. You would stay at home with him, you wouldn't go North.

When your husband took you by the shoulder and kissed you, you forgot your fears. You focused on the addictive taste of his lips and how he seemed hungry for you like he couldn't get enough of you. You kissed him with the same passion. Now only you two mattered. Tomorrow Aemond and you would face anything together.

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[atopvisenyashill]

that bit about joffrey is FASCINATING have you ever written about this in depth? I've always loved his character but I would never be able to like. Describe why exactly he is the way he is so I really appreciate your analysis of him loving BOTH parents and incorporating only their flaws - I always just assumed that he hates his dad and is annoyed by cersei (still loves her) but then the way we sexually humiliates and abuses sansa etc is so robert-coded like of course he emulates the bevavior of his father.

Also slightly off topic but i always forget that Joffrey is like canonically so good at all the proper princely things (thinking of that scene at Sansa and Tyrion's wedding when she's so upset that a monster like Joff could be so good at dancing) and - not to go on about GOT again - but I wish we had actually gotten to see that and him being charming etc. Huge props to the show for giving Joff the perfect wardrobe (the only thing they did right) but also f them for waiting all that potential

yes, they really said joff gets to have all the swag and then the moment he died they put cersei in that fuck ass bob and no one in the lannisters was allowed to serve again smh. and thank youuu i actually had to stop myself from rambling over him before haha, but i'll go into more detail here! so this was the comment from the other post-

joffrey is a kid just ruled by his first, most base instinct. his instincts, his core emotions, tell him to love and trust both robert and cersei, and imo he twists himself into a MONSTER to try to appeal to both of them. no one else matters - not his siblings, not his uncle, not his grandfather, not the realm. he needs to be the sort of vicious person they could both be proud of, he needs to be better than them both at violence, so he absorbs all of their faults and none of their virtues.

i definitely do see very often that people feel he only loves one or the other parent and while I do understand that reading, I don't think it's quite how Joffrey operates. I think he does love them both, and holds them both in high esteem. I do agree that he's annoyed by Cersei but that doesn't mean he doesn't value her opinion (as much as Joffrey puts value on anyone else's opinion, I mean).

Joffrey and Cersei

Joffrey relies on his mother more than almost any other male character we see in the series. We see him call for Cersei basically every time he's hurt, in trouble, or wanting to whine about something. Not only that, but you have everyone from Robert to Renly to Tywin himself saying that Joffrey is doted upon and inseparable from his mother. A few choice quotes:

"Fear is better than love, Mother says." Joffrey pointed at Sansa. "She fears me."

He takes Cersei's lessons to heart, however flawed they are. Her opinion matters to him, he wants her to see him as strong.

Nine cases out of ten seemed to bore him; those he allowed his council to handle, squirming restlessly while Lord Baelish, Grand Maester Pycelle, or Queen Cersei resolved the matter. When he did choose to make a ruling, though, not even his queen mother could sway him.

It's Cersei he listens to the most. We know that if a little King, even with his mother as Regent, doesn't want to deal with her, he can simply ignore her - that's what Jaehaerys does with Alyssa, after all. But Joffrey doesn't do this; he'll fight with her, he'll insult her, and he's not shy about doing it in public but he never disregards her out of hand.

Joffrey lurched to his feet. "I'm king! Kill him! Kill him now! I command it." He chopped down with his hand, a furious, angry gesture . . . and screeched in pain when his arm brushed against one of the sharp metal fangs that surrounded him. The bright crimson samite of his sleeve turned a darker shade of red as his blood soaked through it. "Mother!" he wailed.

His instinct, every time, is to turn to her for help. He loves her. He adores her. She's the only person around who tells him he's strong and smart and will be a good king. He leans on her for guidance, for comfort, he talks to her about fucking whores. He shares everything with her because he doesn't have a single friend. She models anger and violence for him constantly, she excuses his disturbing proclivities, so he molds himself to be the person she wants him to be, the king she wants him to be. People - including Tyrion and Tywin! - are always wondering why Cersei is blind to his cruelty, but the reality is she knew he was cruel and loved him for it.

Tommen did as he was bid. His meekness troubled her. A king had to be strong. Joffrey would have argued. He was never easy to cow.

For Cersei, cruelty is strength and in her eyes, Joffrey is as strong as they come. This isn't by accident; just like his constant cries for her are reinforced by her rushing to coddle him, his cruelty is reinforced by a mother who sees it as strength. It's almost like what Coldhands says to Bran - Joffrey is a monster, yes, but in Cersei's eyes, Joffrey is her monster.

Joffrey and Robert

Joffrey had never had a close friend of his own age, that she recalled. The poor boy was always alone. I had Jaime when I was a child . . . and Melara, until she fell into the well. Joff had been fond of the Hound, to be sure, but that was not friendship. He was looking for the father he never found in Robert.

From Cersei's point of view, I think she knows very well that Joffrey is searching for love, acceptance, and himself in Robert. She doesn't like it, but she seems to accept that it's natural for Joffrey to search for some sort of father figure, and doesn't seem to begrudge him that - imo, I think because she knows Robert is always going to reject Joffrey for his cruelty.

“Why would he [care]? Robert ignored him. He would have beat him if I’d allowed it. That brute you made me marry once hit the boy so hard he knocked out two of his baby teeth, over some mischief with a cat. I told him I’d kill him in his sleep if he ever did it again, and he never did, but sometimes he would say things…”

Whenever they interact, the few times they do, there's violence. People always take this as Cersei not allowing Robert to "teach" or "properly discipline" Joffrey but, well...does the above seem like helpful discipline? Knocking out your child because he freaked you out? Punishing extreme violence with more extreme violence? And it's not just Cersei that this moment sticks with, because Stannis brings it up as well-

"Joffrey . . . I remember once, this kitchen cat . . . the cooks were wont to feed her scraps and fish heads. One told the boy that she had kittens in her belly, thinking he might want one. Joffrey opened up the poor thing with a dagger to see if it were true. When he found the kittens, he brought them to show to his father. Robert hit the boy so hard I thought he'd killed him."

Since Cersei says Robert would "say things" and we see him threatening Cersei (the "or I'll honor you again" line), I don't think it's a stretch to say that Robert threatened to beat Joffrey nearly to death several times over.

And yet...Joffrey compliments his father, especially in comparison to his other relatives.

He wrenched free of her. "Why should I? Everyone knows it's true. My father won all the battles. He killed Prince Rhaegar and took the crown, while your father was hiding under Casterly Rock." The boy gave his grandfather a defiant look. "A strong king acts boldly, he doesn't just talk."

And Cersei believes this came from Robert-

"Father, I am sorry," Cersei said, when the door was shut. "Joff has always been willful, I did warn you . . ." "There is a long league's worth of difference between willful and stupid. 'A strong king acts boldly?' Who told him that?" "Not me, I promise you," said Cersei. "Most like it was something he heard Robert say . . ."

And of course, Jaime is the one who pieces together why Joffrey sent the catspaw-

“Yes, I hoped the boy would die. So did you. Even Robert thought that would have been for the best. ‘We kill our horses when they break a leg, and our dogs when they go blind, but we are too weak to give the same mercy to crippled children’ he told me. He was blind himself at the time, from drink.” Robert? Jaime had guarded the king long enough to know that Robert Baratheon said things in his cups that he would have denied angrily the next day. “Were you alone when Robert said this?” “You don’t think he said it to Ned Stark, I hope? Of course we were alone. Us and the children.” Cersei removed her hairnet and draped it over a bedpost, then shook out her golden curls. “Perhaps Myrcella sent this man with the dagger, do you think so?” It was meant as mockery, but she’d cut right to the heart of it, Jaime saw at once. “Not Myrcella. Joffrey.” Cersei frowned. “Joffrey had no love for Robb Stark, but the younger boy was nothing to him. He was only a child himself .” “A child hungry for a pat on the head from that sot you let him believe was his father.”

When you put it all together, you have a child who is ignored by his father unless he's being threatened with a beating, who is constantly calling him a monster, who watches his father harm and humiliate his mother day in and day out, who has no other paternal figure around but this violent, angry man who he is supposed to model himself off of, and a mother who encourages his cruelty because she believes it's the only way to protect herself, to protect her son. He's not just emulating his mother's cruelty, he's emulating Robert's violence specifically when he humilates Sansa at court, when he openly talks shit about Cersei - it's what he's seen modeled for him as kingly behavior!

The Abuse And Jaime Of It All

King Joffrey's face hardened. "My mother tells me that it isn't fitting that a king should strike his wife. Ser Meryn."

He knows Robert is abusing Cersei and he takes her dislike of it seriously even as he doesn't make the connection that she means he shouldn't be striking his wife period. Whether it's because Cersei directly told him (which could make sense; she's purposefully hiding it from Jaime but perhaps she confided in Joffrey) or because he witnessed it himself, he's aware of the abuse enough that he takes his mother's comments about not personally striking Sansa to heart.

"No," [Robert] thundered in a voice that drowned out all other speech. Sansa was shocked to see the king on his feet, red of face, reeling. He had a goblet of wine in one hand, and he was drunk as a man could be. "You do not tell me what to do, woman," he screamed at Queen Cersei. "I am king here, do you understand? I rule here, and if I say that I will fight tomorrow, I will fight!" Everyone was staring. Sansa saw Ser Barristan, and the king's brother Renly, and the short man who had talked to her so oddly and touched her hair, but no one made a move to interfere. The queen's face was a mask, so bloodless that it might have been sculpted from snow. She rose from the table, gathered her skirts around her, and stormed off in silence, servants trailing behind. Jaime Lannister put a hand on the king's shoulder, but the king shoved him away hard. Lannister stumbled and fell. The king guffawed. "The great knight. I can still knock you in the dirt. Remember that, Kingslayer." He slapped his chest with the jeweled goblet, splashing wine all over his satin tunic. "Give me my hammer and not a man in the realm can stand before me!" Jaime Lannister rose and brushed himself off. "As you say, Your Grace." His voice was stiff. Lord Renly came forward, smiling. "You've spilled your wine, Robert. Let me bring you a fresh goblet." Sansa started as Joffrey laid his hand on her arm. "It grows late," the prince said. He had a queer look on his face, as if he were not seeing her at all. "Do you need an escort back to the castle?"

I think it's pretty clear that Joffrey is dissociating here which also explains his very detached way of looking at Robert's abuse of Cersei. It freaks him out enough that he uses Sansa as an excuse to leave (giving her the Hound, then running off himself) but he doesn't show it. He's not even particularly upset during this scene, not throwing a tantrum or making whiny remarks like he does when he's usually upset. He only has a "queer look" - the stress of trying to reconcile his adoration of Robert and his love of Cersei just makes him fully shut down instead of confronting it.

Joffrey gave a petulant shrug. "Your brother defeated my uncle Jaime. My mother says it was treachery and deceit. She wept when she heard. Women are all weak, even her, though she pretends she isn't. She says we need to stay in King's Landing in case my other uncles attack, but I don't care. After my name day feast, I'm going to raise a host and kill your brother myself. That's what I'll give you, Lady Sansa. Your brother's head."

I think people often take his comments about how women are weak to mean he doesn't view his mother as a competent advisor. But you notice a pattern here - he gets shitty with her when it's about Jaime specifically.

"A great many people are sorry for that," Tyrion replied, "and before I am done, some may be a deal sorrier . . . yet I thank you for the sentiment. Joffrey, where might I find your mother?" "She's with my council," the king answered. "Your brother Jaime keeps losing battles."

"She's with my council" he says, because he sees no reason to not let Cersei run things without him, something Robert never lets her do. But "your brother Jaime" not "my uncle Jaime" which is a shift because he doesn't stop calling Renly or Stannis his uncles even after they rebel. He knows, he suspects, and what he resents is not Cersei fucking Jaime but Jaime fucking Cersei.

My read on this is that Joffrey sees his mother as weak for allowing herself to be seduced by Jaime, and sees Jaime as a lecherous seducer who is the cause of all his problems. If only Jaime hadn't seduced his mother, maybe his parents wouldn't hate each other. His claim wouldn't be under question. His mother should have just taken the abuse and bided her time instead of putting herself in danger and having bastards.

He loves his mother. He loves his father. And that's the human heart in conflict with itself that resides in Joffrey. Does he honor his mother, the only parent he has, or does he honor Robert, the patriarch he is supposed to emulate? If he has no other example of what strength looks like, is he even capable of figuring out a different path for himself?

[erosmutt]

ⵌ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘᴏᴠᴇʀ! ⨾ SAM MONROE

𖦹 MILF!reader, fingering, infidelity, 1K words

Both you and Colleen Beck were attractive older women with daughters Sam's age (who he had undoubtedly fooled around with), both carried yourselves with class, both were unique in your own way.

He absolutely adored that you two were good friends with his mother. Every Saturday afternoon, the three of you would get together at the country club and have wine and gossip while your husbands went to golf.

Like now.

Sam was sitting at a table with Alyssa and your daughter, Naomi. The two girls were fawning over some guy he didn’t care about, giggling like the school girls they were. But Sam’s eyes were fixed on you and Colleen. Especially you. You swirled the glass of white wine in your hand, watching as your husband, John, knocks the ball into the hole, the other two men complimenting him.

It wasn’t until Alyssa yelled his name that he snapped out of it and looked at the two girls to his left. “Naomi and I were wondering if you wanted to sleep over?”

A sleepover. A sleepover at Naomi’s house - your house. He would get to see you in your natural element. He wouldn’t see you all dressed up to play the trophy wife, he would see you! He just shrugs at the two. “Sure, guess so.” He mutters, putting on his headphones.

Of course, he had to act nonchalant, but he was internally cheesing. He didn't know why he was getting so excited - it's not like anything could happen. All he could do was fantasize about you.

He was sorely mistaken.

Someway, somehow, he had you exactly where he wanted you - in a compromising position. He had told you that he wanted to stay in a room of his own, not stay in Naomi’s room with her and Alyssa. Granting his wish, you were currently fixing up the guest room for him.

"I'm sorry Sammy," you begin, bent over as you tuck the corner of the fitted sheet underneath the mattress. There was a basket of fresh linen at the foot of the bed. “I never got around to making up the guest room,” you stand straight and look at him with a warm smile. “But now I have a reason to!”

Sam nods, rubbing his arms, shifting his weight back and forth. “Yeah, thanks.” you go back to talking about something or other. Your husband, more than likely. Every time you talked about John, Sam tuned you out. He didn’t have anything against John, didn’t have any reason to have anything against him, he was a nice man and a good dad to Naomi. Sam was just… jealous.

“I understand you not wanting to stay with Nomi and Lyssa, you don’t have much in common with them, do you?” you smooth out the sheet, then continue to make the bed. “Maybe you three’ll become good friends in the future, hm?”

“Yeah, maybe,”

“Maybe you’ll end up like your mother and Colleen and I.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Have kids, and they’ll be friends.”

“Kids, yeah.”

You turn to look at him, getting the feeling that he was less than excited about your little hypothetical. With a pout, you walk up to him and place your hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently. “Sammy, what’s wrong, hm? You alright?” He nods. “I’m fine. Just uh…” his eyes find your cleavage. “Uhh…”

“‘Just uh’ what?” You smile. His eyes go half-lidded. Fuck.

Sam looks up at you, meeting your eyes. “Sorry.” he murmurs, earning him another gentle shoulder squeeze. “It’s alright Sammy, you’re just a boy, you can’t help it.” He blinks at you in mild shock. You didn’t mind him ogling you? He nods. “Just a boy, yeah.”

“Here, let me finish up, okay?” You gently pinch his cheek, then go back to what you were doing - making the bed. He watched as you snugly tucked the sheet, humming softly to yourself. Sam’s fingers twitched, itching to touch you. He looks over into the hallway as he hears giggles come from the girls’ room. Then his mind began to race. If you truly didn’t mind him ogling you, then you wouldn’t mind him touching you, right?

With newfound confidence (and stupidity too), adrenaline courses through Sam’s veins as he reaches forward. He cups your pussy from behind, making you gasp, your hands tangling into the sheets, bunching up the linen you just spent so much time smoothing out.

“Sammy,”

“Hush, just let me do this,” he murmurs as he rubs his fingers up and down your clothed slit, the tight leggings you had on making it all the more easier for him to get a feel for you.

He switches hands; his left slides up your back, coaxing you to lay your upper body down onto the bed. His right tugs your leggings and panties down, until he’s able to comfortably position his hand.

"Sammy, please,"

"I said, hush." His fingers slip up and down your pussy as if getting a feel for it, until he finally prods against your hole, then pushes his fingers in.

You give him a low whine, arching your back. He works his fingers into you, gradually getting them stickier and stickier. He glances up to the door, making sure no one was coming past. Then again if they did come by and see, it’s not like he could stop them.

“We’ve gotta be quick, c’mon.” he was past the point of wanting to pleasure you, he just wanted to make you cum before your husband came by. His hand moves quicker, veins in his wrist protruding and hand beginning to cramp. “Just… cum already,”

Sam reaches forward with his other hand to cover your mouth. “You’re so loud, calm down.” He whispers, glancing up at the door again. You shut your eyes, squirming about. You really weren’t getting any sexual gratification from this because he was in such a hurry that he didn’t care to even get you off properly, but you would take it.

After a faked orgasm, you fix yourself up and give Sam a polite smile. “Thank you Sammy.” You press a kiss to his cheek. “Get some sleep, ‘kay?” With that, you leave, closing the door behind yourself.

[thebadboyfanclub]

My Moonlight (Daemon x Reader)

So this was requested by an anon. Once again this was a challenge but I hope I did it justice, let me know if it’s shit but… Enjoy!

It was a cold winter night when princess Alyssa gave birth to not one but two children, prince Daemon and princess (y/n), legend has it (y/n) would wail until she laid next to her twin brother. When princess Alyssa held her daughter he saw herself in the babes eyes, they held the same glimpse of strength and resilience, she was called “the fire of the realm”, the greatest thing was during the labour the wild dragon sheep stealer landed outside the keep.

Once princess Alyssa heard the news she was up on her feet with her twin children in her arms to meet the dragon, (y/n) was the one that sheep stealer had chosen as the dragon sniffed around her and then sat down on the ground, it almost looked like the dragon bowed for the princess, it was not as big in size as Caraxes yet he made up for it with its ill temper and ferocious attitude, it would only listen and obey to (y/n) which caused a lot of problems to the dragon keepers, the dragon was named blaze “it’s only fitting for the realms fire to ride her blaze” she liked to joke.

As the years passed the twins were attached at the hip and the court would joke about how they were the same person. (Y/n) and Daemon would often get in trouble due to the obsession they had for one another, (y/n) had a habit of grabbing little girls by their hair and drag them when they attempted to come close to her brother and Daemon had to be pulled off from other boys that would offer flowers to the princess. Their father would look at them as a continuation of the love he had shared with their deceased mother, it was no coincidence that they looked identical either, two bodies that shared one soul.

“we were born together, we will die together”

Prince Daemon would frequently answer when he was questioned about (y/n). (Y/n) and Daemon could not be tamed by rules, she had given her Maidenhead to Daemon before their betrothal was even announced, whispers of how prince Daemon had taken (y/n) behind a brother at the street of silk spread like fire, they were partially true what they forgot to mention was that (y/n) had dragged Daemon in a dark alley to mountain him, she was insatiable.

“It feels like I am being fucked by myself”

She whispered to him, Daemon laughed but did not oppose to her declare, their resemblance was uncanny and oddly arousing, seeing themselves in one another made it more fun for them, their facial expression matching as their were twisted with pleasure was exciting to say the least.

Both of them were intoxicated by love, they were ruthless as the green eyed monster of jealousy drove them to insanity, their antics baffled everyone as for example their brother Viserys had roared with anger when (y/n) slapped Rhaenyra at her own wedding for dancing and whispering to her lord husbands ear. (Y/n) was restrained by Daemon and was forced out, later a soldier heard their groans of pleasure as Daemon had pushed her against a wall to “teach her a lesson”.

Daemon had taken it a step further as he beheaded her knight for listing after his lady wife, the truth was the knight had just held the princess by the waist when she tripped over and Daemon did not appease to how the knight went about it.

The birthing bed was a place (y/n) would frequent with Daemon by her side as he whispered to her words of encouragement, the ended up having 8 kids, her eldest was a son that (y/n) already carried in her belly when the wedding ceremony was held, she named him Baelon, the second one was twin girls Alyssane and Alyssa, the fourth was another boy named Maegor, then there was Eleana, after her came Rhaegal that gave his mother quite a fright since he decided to arrive earlier than expected, and the last ones were another daughter pair of twins named Visenya and Helias a girl and a boy naturally they all looked like the same person just different heights and personalities, the family resided at dragon stone that Viserys had passed to his siblings, away from duty and boring court gatherings, they showed up when they wished not when they were summoned, on one hand it was a relief since having them around meant chaos would erupt, on the other no one knew when they would strike

“My moonlight”

Daemon called his sister wife who waited for him at the dragon pit with their children. Daemon took (y/n)s hand and placed a sweet kiss on the womans knuckles, he looked up to admire his ever defiant wife.

(Y/n) was dressed in a marvellous black and red outfit and stood next to her dragon, the first to run to Daemon was his youngest Visenya, her long dirty blonde hair swinging as she hugged his fathers leg. Daemon picked her up and held his daughter tightly, she was a spitting image of her parents of course, the only difference was that she was the one to inherit her grandmothers eyes, one was blue and the other was violet.

“How is my little princess?”

“Mother said I can ride my dragon”

“ The dragonkeepers said it’s safe and the red keep is a short flight from here”

“What amazing news”

Daemon beamed, all of their children had dragon eggs in their cradle, unfortunately a few did not hatch including Maegors, however that was quickly forgotten due to (y/n) and daemon flying with their kids to find unclaimed dragons when Maegor had found Cannibal and claimed him he came back riding, in his mothers eyes Maegor was destined to become a legend, the dragon was later named “Gaelithox”.

Daemon had assisted his little girl up on her completely white dragon, Visenya had named him “moonlight” after the nickname Daemon had for (y/n).

“Allow me my love”

“No need”

(Y/n) dismissed her husbands hand and sat on her dragons saddle. Daemon scoffed as he shook his head, of course she would not take his hand, (y/n) never yearned for assistance even if it came from her husband. The flight was short yet blissful, they all went up to the sky side by side and listened to little Visenyas squeals of joy, (y/n) puffed her chest with pride as she gazed at the little girl. Helias had claimed Vermithor, (y/n) had taken the small babe up in the sky with her dragon when she spotted vermithor, something told her to land next to the lonely dragon, it was then that the dragon chose the child as its new rider.

Once they landed their son caught up to his little sister and picked her off her dragon, Maegor was over protective of his siblings. Viserys waited outside for his brother and sister along with his wife, Alicent.

“Daemon and (y/n)! Welcome home”

“My dearest brother, how I’ve missed you”

(Y/n) loved Viserys, it was only for her that Viserys tolerated Daemons rebellious acts. Viserys placed his hands on (y/n)s stomach as his face showed admiration.

“Gods be good sister, your family is a sight for sore eyes, dragon stone seems to have their hands full with heirs”

“our mother unfortunately did not live long enough to make the army she wished for our father, I hope she is smiling down on me for my effort”

“The mother seems to be quite gracious with her blessings for princess (y/n)”

Alicent spoke lightly, (y/n)s eyes focused on her, (y/n) was never fond of the hightowers, she found them repulsive and vicious, lowlife rats that raised their hopes up to take over the Targaryen throne.

“Goddess Meleys was on our side that is correct”

“And let me take a good look at Rhaegal, my daughter is a lucky woman”

Rhaegal was to be wed to Helaena, Rhaegal had grown fond of the princesses innocence and kind heart, he would often ride his dragon to be by her side for as long as he could.

(Y/n) and Daemon pushed their pride aside for their son and allowed the match, they also thought how it would serve for their son to be wed to heleana when Rhaenyra ascends the throne, if their children take over the hightowers they would not go against the princess.

“Let us go inside, Rhaenyra has been waiting for you”

(Y/n)s mask slipped for a quick moment, she could recall the encounter that occurred during her wedding, she shared a look with her husband that made Daemon place his one hand around her waist and the other to hold her hand tightly, the last thing he needed was for his sister wife to be cross with him.

“Princess Rhaenyra it’s been far too long”

“Indeed it has my dear aunt, i see you have been quite busy growing your family”

Rhaenyra hugged her aunt and then took a step back to bow at her uncle, (y/n) smirked at the encounter and Rhaenyras timid behaviour, at least the slap had taught her a lesson.

“And your children have grown, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey isn’t it?”

“Correct, they were far younger when you last saw them”

“Visenya and Helias were babes, you don’t remember them do you sweetlings?”

Daemon once again picked up little Visenya. The girl shook her head before she hid her face at her fathers neck making everyone’s heart melt. Daemon rubbed her back while (y/n) lifted her son Helias in her arms, Helias seemed intrigued by Rhaenyra since he stared right in her eye, he was the adventurous one.

“I believe the children should go to the gardens, mingle amongst themselves”

(Y/n) suggested, they did not come all the way here to have some family quality time. Naturally Maegor went up to his father so he came hold little Visenya, she was a shy child who adored her brother. Alyssa went to her mother to lure Helias away with sweets, he was always a mothers boy so he needed a tad bit of convincing to leave his mothers arms.

As the children walked away it was only (y/n), Daemon, Viserys, Alicent and Rhaenyra in the room. An awkward silence fell as the three women sized each other up while the men stood completely still, waiting to see the women’s reaction.

“How is your son Baelon?”

“He should be here any minute now with his wife Laena and of course their two daughters, my son has informed me that princess Rhaenyra is interested to betroth Jacaerys and Lucerys with Baela and Raena”

“Indeed, the children seem quite fond of each other”

Rhaenyra responded diplomatically, (y/n) could detect that she was weaponising the children’s feelings so she wouldn’t go against it.(Y/n) nodded as she held back all the sly comments that passed through her mind, her grandchildren would marry the two bastards, what a mess and might she add a waste of Valyrian blood, Baelon was the one that tried to reason with his mother and allow the match, Baelon wished for his daughters to be happy as well as see Baela ascend to the throne with her lord husband.

“Well since we are are discussing the topic of betroths I would like to propose a match”

“What do you have in mind sister?”

“Alyssa has been betrothed to her brother Maegor but I would like to suggest that we betroth my other daughter Eleana to your son Aemond, our families I have been divided for so long it is time we put our differences aside, as well as keep the blood of old Valyria pure”

(Y/n)s eyes shifter for only a moment to take a look at Rhaenyra, Viserys smiled brightly at the proposal while Alicent froze in her spot, (y/n) has noticed that Alicent has a soft spot for her son Aemond so if he was to marry Eleana meant there would be another woman influencing her loyal soldier.

“What a splendid idea my dearest (y/n), Eleana is more than my son would have wished for, isn’t that right my queen?”

“I supposed, Aemond would be a… wonderful husband”

Everyone with eyes could detect Alicents uneasiness at the proposal, Eleana was a force to be reckoned with, an excellent archer and a mighty dragon rider, her spirit would not be silenced under Alicents influence, quite the contrary Alicent feared for her son being dragged away from her reach and follow his wife in whatever she wished, which was why (y/n) suggested it.

Alicent could feel it how every move was calculated and an attempt to shoot down anything the hightowers might have in mind. Aemond was a family oriented man, if him and Eleana were to have children he would never turn against his own kin, Heleana was to be wed to her other son so as a wife and a gentle soul she would comply with her husbands wishes, one of them was for Heleana to move to dragon stone after the ceremony. (Y/n) was already taking away her only daughter and now she planted a spy in his sons chamber.

“May I ask dear sister, what about your daughter Alyssane? Our son Aegon might-“

“No”

Daemon spoke up for the first time. He had heard stories of the nuisance that was Aegon, “a waste of a name” he called him when he was brought in question, Daemon had grown the closest to his daughter Alyssane, she was an exquisite sword woman and a perfect diplomat, he would never throw his daughter to the low life that was his nephew. (Y/n) squeezed her husband hand and smiled at him, her smile seemed warm although Daemon caught on quickly that it was his first and last warning.

“Alyssane is a free spirit my king, we’ve had numerous discussions about her and Aegon that led nowhere, she is adamant to marry Lord Cregan Stark, he has already send ravens to us asking for her hand, I think you can understand I cannot go against true love”

(Y/n) spoke the truth, her daughter Alyssane was keen on marrying Cregan stark, a fine young prince that would support their daughter and make her the queen of the north, what was a flat out lie was the “numerous discussions”, Alyssane and her parents had never discussed that option, Aegon was not their problem.

Before their plans could go any further they were interrupted by the guards bursting in the room.

“My apologies but you must come to the gardens, Prince Maegor has attacked prince Aegon”

“My child”

Alicent made haste and flew out the room leaving the others stunned. (Y/n) eyeballed her husband, their tight bond came in handy in these situations when they had to communicate with just their eyes. Everyone moved as fast they could and were met with Maegor being held back by three guards as Alicent inspected her son for injuries.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Daemons voice was loud and clear, Maegor had a temper but had never acted with violence without reason. Maegor gained back his composure when he realised his parents were present, (y/n) went to walk to her son as the guards led him go.

“What is the meaning? Your son is a savage, my children are once again met with cruelty of your family”

“Your grace let us not jump to conclusions, Maegor as your mother I demand to know what happened”

Maegor remained silent. As he looked at his sister he thought of what to say, he did not regret his actions yet once his mother came in his vision he felt embarrassed over his temper.

“Maegor I won’t ask twice”

“He wanted to bet money that he could fuck Alyssa”

Maegor interrupted his mother with his voice rising due to anger. It was like time stopped when Maegor made the accusation known, Maegor was defending his sister that was his soon to be wife.

Aegon was unaware that his uncle was standing behind him when he spoke with such disgusting words over his sisters. Alyssa and Alyssane were playing out a sword fight while Eleana and Visenya sat on the grass with Heleana and watched, the sons of Rhaenyra had ran off somewhere with Rhaegal and Aegon had turned to his brother Aemond to demise Maegors sisters. He was about to jump in the conversation so he can make Aegon stop talking when he heard of the bet, that was what made him lose his mind.

“Is that true Aegon?”

Alicent questioned in a state of shock. If what Maegor had stated was correct then it was another stab on Alicents back, her own son had betrayed her and left them exposed to the hungry wolves that was (y/n) and Daemon.

Aegon remained silent and (y/n) found this as an opportunity to approach the boy and land one harsh slap on his already bruised face. Alicent nor anyone else did not dare to stop her, he had crossed a line and spoke ill of her daughter, if it was the other way around Alicent would have done the same. Daemon admired his twin with his head held high as she grabbed Aegon by the chin and forced him on his knees in front of her son Maegor.

“Alyssa, go to your brother Maegor”

Alyssa did as told and wrapped her hand around Maegor after she leaned her head on his shoulder. Alyssa and Maegor were in love ever since they were toddlers, even if Maegor was younger he always protected his siblings and although he struggles with intimacy (y/n) recalled when Maegor would slip a small daisy in Alyssa’s books every day or how she waited for him to find a dragon so they could fly together, Alyssa had claimed silverwing when the dragon came out of hiding on Alyssanes and Alyssa’s first name day.

“Apologise to them”

“What?”

“You heard her boy, apologise to them”

Daemon repeated as he had approached his wife who stayed next to the kneeling boy. Aegon looked back at his mother for help yet to no avail, he had created this mess he was going to come out of it by his own.

“I…. I am sorry”

“For what?”

“I am sorry for speaking in a low manner about Alyssa”

“If I hear that you even looked at any of my daughters way, I will cut off your hands and your cock so I can feed it to you. Understood?”

Aegon only nodded in fear of (y/n)s wrath. She took her eyes of Aegon who was clearly beaten with quite the strength from Maegor and took a few steps to stand at the head of her son. Maegors posture was proud and there was no sight of remorse in his eyes as they laid upon his mother. Everyone held their breath as (y/n) handled the matter, all of Westeros were familiar with how far Daemon and (y/n) would go for their children, gods save the man that would harm their family. A small smirk appeared in (y/n)s lips as she reached up to caress her sons cheek

“You are your fathers son, I am proud of you my dear Maegor”

Requests are open!

[novaursa]

could you please do torrhen stark x aegon the conquerers youngest sister (not rhaenys), getting married and having kids in winterfell

Queen of Winter

- Summary: Your life with Torrhen flourishes in spite of your brother’s ire.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Torrhen Stark

- Note: This is another part of The Broken Crown series, where the reader chooses Torrhen ending called The Queen's Choice. These events follow after the ending.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The North had never seen such a wedding. The cold winds blew through the godswood as you and Torrhen Stark were wed beneath the heart tree, its ancient branches reaching out as silent witnesses. The Old Gods looked on as you made your vows, their presence felt in every gust of icy wind. Winterfell’s great hall had roared with celebration that night, the fires blazing high in the hearth, the Starks and their bannermen toasting to the union of ice and fire.

Years had passed since that fateful day, and Winterfell was no longer just a place of cold stone and ancient oaths. It was filled with the laughter of children, your children. Nine in total, each one a reflection of the bond between you and Torrhen, the fierce love that had grown despite the odds, despite the war, and despite the looming shadow of Aegon and his sisters.

Your sons were the embodiment of the North’s strength, towering figures with the bulk and muscle of their father’s kin, but with the unmistakable Valyrian features that marked their heritage. Their hair, silver as moonlight, was often tousled by the wind, and their violet eyes burned with the same fierce intensity as your dragon. They moved through Winterfell with the quiet power of wolves, though the fire of dragons coursed through their veins.

Your daughters, on the other hand, were your mirror. Each one carried a trace of your fire, both in spirit and in appearance. They had inherited your beauty, your poise, and the regal way you held yourself, but beneath it all was the cold steel of the North, a quiet fierceness that only you could understand. When they stood with their brothers, they were a fearsome sight, children of two worlds, bonded by blood and the strength of the North.

It was a day of clear skies and crisp air when Torrhen found you in the godswood, watching your children. Your youngest son, Rhaenar, was perched on a low branch of the weirwood tree, his silver hair glowing in the midday light, his eyes fixed on the sky where one of his older brothers circled on dragonback. You smiled, a small, contented sigh escaping your lips.

Torrhen approached quietly, wrapping his arm around your waist, his warmth seeping through the heavy fur cloak you wore. “Rhaenar is restless again,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

“He wants a dragon of his own,” you replied, leaning into him. “He watches the skies more than the other children. He has his eyes on one of Tesaerix’s hatchlings.”

Torrhen chuckled softly, his breath misting in the cold air. “The boy has ambition. Like his mother.”

You smiled at that, looking up at your husband. His face, weathered by the years and the responsibilities of ruling, was still as handsome and strong as the day you first met. “And like his father,” you teased. “The Starks may be wolves, but there’s dragon blood in his veins.”

Torrhen’s gaze softened, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Our children are as much Stark as they are Targaryen. They carry both fire and ice in them. They will grow into great leaders.”

Your eyes turned back to the godswood, watching as your eldest son, Vaeron, landed his dragon in the clearing. The beast, a large creature with scales the color of dark smoke and ember, lowered its head, allowing Vaeron to dismount. He was the spitting image of you in his features, but Torrhen’s strength and Northern stature shaped his form. Vaeron had bonded with the first of Tesaerix’s clutch, a proud dragon who had hatched in the dead of winter.

As Vaeron approached, Rhaenar rushed over to his older brother, eyes wide with excitement. “Did she fly higher today? Did you see beyond the Wall from afar?”

Vaeron smiled, ruffling his little brother’s hair. “Not today, little wolf. But one day, when you have your own dragon, we’ll fly together.”

Rhaenar’s face lit up, and he looked to you with a pleading expression. “Mother, when will one of the hatchlings choose me?”

You knelt down, brushing a lock of silver hair from his forehead. “Patience, my love. The dragons choose when the time is right. They are not just beasts to command—they are kin, bound by blood and fire.”

Rhaenar nodded solemnly, though his excitement was barely contained. The bond between dragon and rider was something every child of yours yearned for, and you knew it would come in time.

That evening, as the fires in Winterfell’s great hall roared and the scent of roasted meat filled the air, your children gathered around the table, laughter and conversation filling the space. Vaeron sat at the head of the table beside Torrhen, discussing strategy and plans with his father, while your daughters entertained their younger brothers, teasing them mercilessly.

Torrhen watched them with pride in his eyes, the legacy you had built together here in the North. “The bannermen will be expecting more of our children to take up their positions soon,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “Vaeron will need to command, and the others will follow.”

“They are ready,” you replied, glancing at your sons and daughters. “The dragons have chosen some of them already, and the Old Gods watch over the rest.”

Torrhen took your hand under the table, his grip firm but warm. “I never thought our lives would become this, Y/N. Not after all that’s happened. But now, I can’t imagine it any other way.”

You smiled at him, your heart swelling with the same love you had carried since the day you’d flown north to be with him. “This is where we were always meant to be, Torrhen. Here, with our children, our dragons, our home.”

The years had not been without their trials, but in that moment, surrounded by your family, the future seemed as vast and as endless as the northern sky.

In the distance, a dragon roared, its call echoing through the halls of Winterfell, a reminder of the power that lay within your bloodline, and the strength of the bond between fire and ice.

[povofjustme]

House of the Dragon

Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys Targaryen adopted daughter (Dark skin, black hair, green eyes)

(Didn’t check grammar, have fun!)

- You were abandoned on the beach

- Laenor had just came back from training

- He tried to get some alone time with joffrey so they went to a private part of the beach

- They both kept hearing a cry… they found you!!

- Laenor pick you up from a little adopted beat up boat on the tidewater

- “We have to go take her to my mother now” Lb

- Rhaenys looked at Laenor and asking why he has a baby in his arms but when he told her to look at your eyes

- Your eyes where green

- Just like Queen Alyssa Targaryen

- With everything else with you, you could really pass as a Velaryon’s princess but the best part is your black hair, just like her mother

- She sent for Corlys and called for the Grand Maester.

- “She looks strong and healthy, but she is small. I will say 3 or 4 moons old” gm

- Corlys took one look at you, your eyes, your skin and your hair! you could of passed as his and Rhaenys child

- “We should keep her” r

- “She could be passed as one of are own” c

- “Leanor go get leana, we have to talk” r

- That night they had a family dinner, everyone that night agreed to have you be passed at Y/N Velaryon the youngest daughter of Corlys and Rhaenys

- You came at the perfect time

- Corlys and Rhaenys haven’t been to kingsland in over 11 moons, they would say that Rhaenys was pregnant and due to her health. She wanted to keep it to themselves

- Once the king got note of his cousin new addition, He wanted to throw a 7 day feast just for you!

- Growing up, you ended up being the family favor, and once getting older and joining them in court, you become one of courts highly favored lady, all due to family

- The Velaryon Pearl~they call you

- Your Father (Corly’s) in his eye, you are perfect. His favorite child. You listen to him, and adored him since you were a kid without question. Which let him know you where ready you learn. Even if you wasn’t Velaryon by blood, you was going to be raised like one. He raised and tried you to be the best Velaryon in history.

- “(Your name) Velaryon, lady of Driftmark” He see your future in stone. He was the one that said history remember names, not faces.

- Your Mother (Rhaenys) she did teach you history of The Baratheon family. You looked more on her mother’s side than a thing. And she wanted to stay that way. She had no idea if you had any Targaryen in you but that doesn’t matter because you were “Velaryon” and didn’t need a dragon. You could stay on land where she knows you’re safe.

- Your Older brother (Leanor) as your big brother, it’s law that he protects you. In the halls, you could see him walking hand and hand with his 4 year old little sister with a little crown on both of their heads. He stared your training at the age of 7.

- Like your father, Leanor wanted you to be the best of the best but most importantly, he want you to be safe if you wasn’t by his side already. But growing up, Leanor can see the sea in you, maybe even the future lady of the tide. That’s another reason why he train you. When the time comes, nobody could try to over throw you.

- Your older sister (Leana) She teaches you how to be a confident lady. To the hair, make up and dresses. At 5 summers old, you would sit and watch her get ready for the day. Leana would dress you both to match. Hair as will. She teaches you everything you need to know about being a lady and how to present yourself to the people. Leana is your best friend growing up and she loved having a mini-me around her and dress up.

- Your Uncle (Vaemond) Teaches you about the tide. Ever since you was a kid, he grow to love you as family. And when he did, he took you under his wing. Everything you know about the boat or the sea and ocean is from your uncle. His very close to you because of the sea. Just like your father, he can see as the lady of tide

- Even though you were spoiled since they first met you, you were the most humble, persistent, and kindest person they knew.

- Growing up, you would get a feeling that you was somewhat different then your family. Yes everyone else had white hair but have been told that you had your grandma long thick black hair that fell to your waist, your father darker skin and your green eyes just like your great cousin

- But sometimes it’s didn’t feel right, but your choice to be the best you can be in their eyes. You are very grateful and show it.

- They never told you anything about your upbringing, but you have a loving family right here! Nothing will change you.

- Like - (You go to the market in The tides and spend extra money on the small business. You helped out in the orphanages since your were 7 summers old and donate most of your dolls, dresses and sometimes jewelry that out fit your or you believe some of kid would be happier with the toys. Every name day, the orphanages around Driftmarks would get big donations from the feast to feed them)

- The people see your kind heart, but also see how beautiful your “Valyria” future looks, your siblings and you are know as “pretty Valyria”.

- After Leanor got married and had his “first” child, He went to his father wanting to make you the future lady of the tide after him.

- He would send leana letters about it

- Leanor knows his not gonna have children of his own but he trained you for the age of 7 to be a leader, and his father agreed

- Corly or Leanor didn’t tell anyone but Vaemond. You ever needed there help when it comes to the people. You won there hearts over the years, they wouldn’t have a problem knowing that Driftmark would be safe in your hands.

- By the time Joffrey was born, you would become an helmsman, chief mate under your uncle watch then a captain to your own boat that your father gifted you.

- They knew they made the right decision, but sometimes you just wished your sister was here to see it.

- But she never got too. The night of her funeral all hell broke loose. The kids were trying to kill each other. Mothers are arguing. And all you could think about was your big sister.

- The whole day was a blur but you seem your nieces hiding behind your parents.

- That night you had the twins sleeping in your room, but the night wasn’t over just yet

- The girls where sleep in your room when you heard a loud noise, not your older sister but your big brother is now dead.

- Few years later, your uncle thought it was time for a new ruler. Your father has been at sea and no one knew if he was gonna make it are not.

- Now you are standing in the red keep. Your uncle just defended your position to being Lady of Driftmark, Rhaenyra was about to take her stand when the king walked in.

- At the end of it, your mother announced that your father and brother agreed to have you as the Future Lady of the tide…..

“To the future lady for Driftmark..” -King Viserys