#like father like daughter teehee :3

[littlemissgloomexe]

Woah [I’m running out of caption ideas]

Original

[joosthead]

I'm sorry for my disappearance. I didn't mean to be gone for so long. I sent an ask after you replied to my first one, but I guess the ask box ate it. 😅

In my head, I also imagined them as a one and done couple, but I love this so much more.

I was right!!!!! Lil Laurens was already there and they had no idea ❤️. Too precious 🥹. Now I imagine all of their friends doing the math after they announce the pregnancy soon after they got married and going 🧐🤔❓️⁉️

They got married in Friesland?!?!? Stop it!!! I love that so much. I imagine an impromptu "Just Married" photo shoot in various fields and landmarks in the area. Maybe taking place at some of Joost's old stomping grounds from when he was young.

Also I looked it up because I was curious and courthouse weddings are a thing in The Netherlands!!!

I love the names you picked out for the kids!!! Juna has to be my favorite.🩷 They sound like little angels I'm sure. 😇😇/j 😈😈 heheh I love the thought of Joost and Reader being like "We need to be an united front against the kids! It's 2 on 2. We can maintain order." then at the same time being like "What if we have one more?? On purpose this time." (I assume lol)

Yessss. Girl dad Joost also makes so much sense to be.

Juna sounds like all she has to do is bat her white eyelashes at her papa and she'll get away with anything. I cannot wait for the father daughter(s) dynamic between Joost and Juna and later, Sanne. Also mother son between Reader and Laurens.

What is the dynamic between Laurens and Juna with Sanne? How did they handle having a new baby sister?

"trust when you guys see the rest of normal au it will literally be such a surprise with even more future information" - WHAT DOES THIS MEAN!?!?!? Tell me what you know!!! I need to know!!! 😫

I'm so excited to see what you have planned especially after seeing the state of their relationship in the snippet you posted. I love all the glimpses throughout time.

Your response to my latest ask made me so happy after an awful couple of days due to you know what happening. 😮‍💨 Thank you for that. - family anon (I feel so special. I have my own tag now :3 )

family anon ... i am so very sorry i didn't respond to this sooner </33

the ask box ate the first one but this one is definitely on me!!!! i mustve read this in the middle of my school haze and responded to it in my head </333 completely my bad!! it has been quite a while my friend </3 i hope o see more asks from you because i love your mind so so much !!!!

and i also love talking about family era normal au (also any era normal au tbh but especially family au because i don't see myself writing any formally written fic for this part of their lives :')))) unless....??)

rpf ahead do not read if anti-rpf, dni if anti-rpf

they were soooo so surprised but also not surprised considering ... for your troubles i will literally just outline how it is in my head... i feel like after everything that has...happened in 2024 with their lives (if you know what i mean) reader decides to take months off of work to travel with joosti for europapa tour :''')

because im crazy and self inserty they conceive in LA the night of the first LA show (because thats my show yerrr) and then find out in july-augustish!! LA is also really important to their story for....several reasons that i cannot spoil but they had a very relationship defining turning moment in LA :)) laurens is a capricorn teehee

DEFINITELY!!!! lots of pictures around landmarks and where he grew up in britsum :''') i imagine it is very healing for both of them!! after hearing about the story of joosti when he was in preschool i thought soooo much of family era normal au hahah

im glad courthouse weddings are a thing because i don't think they'd have it any other way for the first tiem hehe

juna is also my favorite because it's one of my favorite songs hehe !!! they are definitely little rascals but normal au reader keeps them in line for sure hahah they doooooooo have sanne on purpose !! definiteky on purpose if u know what i mean,,,, they are crazy. it takes a bit longer to have her so she's a very wanted and welcome gift alongside the older siblings :))

laurens and juna are literally born in the same year so maybe the break was a little welcome ! LOL (as in ... january 2026 laurens and december 2026 juna [please suspend disbelief about how long it takes to recover from pregnancy cuz realistically they really would be a one and done couple])

MAJOR GIRL DAD!!!! tea parties and getting his makeup and nails done and playing house -- laurens and juna are super partners in crime here but sanne becomes integral to playtime when she's born

all 3 are definitely sort of spoiled because joosti cannot say no to those precious faces ... reader i imagine tries to stay strong but fails cuz they are just so so cute !! babiesss !!!how could they deprive the three of anything honestly.... if you have any specifics you'd like to hear dynamic wise i am all ears :)))

laurens and juna are 6 and 5 when sanne is born so i think it's quite a bit of an adjustment for them when it's just been the two of them for their entire lives!! but i think reader n joosti take so many precautions to make sure they're ready for a baby and especially a new sister in the dynamic :'') i can imagine normal au joosti gets so teary eyed when reader says that juna won't be the youngest anymore haha

i think for all 4 of them it's a huge change cuz they've all been so used tojust having each other!! but laurens and juna fall in love w sanne because they realize she is a great prop for their playing pretend <33 LOL she's like barely a few days old and they insist joosti making a silly voice for her and pretending she's a member of the tea party when it's time

when she's older they are the 3 musketeers -- lots of exploring outdoors and making mud potions and elixirs in the backyard :'') they love each other and i don't think there's much difficulty in having them adjust

LOLLLL i wanna write normal au backstory soooo bad but you guys keep giving me such great ideas for present day normal au debauchery... but lets just say they have like 1.5 breakups and it takes so long for them to get together ... they might consider the night they met their anniversary but that is DEFINITELY not when they got together as a couple!!

i have so much planned and i really hope i get to it -- normal au is such a labor of love and my favorite thing i've ever written and published !! can't believe it's like 30k words in all now ?! that is crazyy work ... anyways

family anon i hope your days have been brighter since then <33 the future is so uncertain i know but we will stick together after... you know what... someone needs to insert knife emoji here that man :/

you are so special !!! family anon you are the greatest !!!

[pinkcreamypeach]

Teehee Mareach and Luaisy fan children

(Didn't feel like drawing so used picrew for these + why they're POC? Because I made princess peach, Daisy and most of the Mario characters POC for my Au. Gave Daisy a last name too, Daisy Azalea)

1. Peonia Pera L’Albicocca Toadstool (18 years old)

2. Molise Giacinta Toadstool (11 years old)

3. Lusia Tuscany Azalea (18 years old)

Have info for these three if y'all wanna read.

Firstly Peonia

Peonia, the elder daughter of Mario and Peach, is a strong-willed and independent young lady who is passionate about racing and competes in roller shaking competitions. Despite her sweet demeanor, she can be quite sassy and stubborn, especially when it comes to protecting her cousin and brother. Despite her love for girly things and her admiration of vintage fashion and makeup, Peonia is also an adrenaline junkie and loves high-risk taking. She is a champion roller shaker and often hangs out with a group of friends at her school, some of whom are gyaru girls.Peonia's physique takes after her mother's side of the family, giving her a thicker body structure, and she was bullied for her Italian accent as a child. Despite this, she has embraced her curly hair as well as the tooth gap that she is self-conscious about. She is a fan of horror shows and movies, especially those that involve horror romance and found family storylines. Peonia's favorite dessert is strawberry shortcake, and she enjoys watching magical girl shows in her spare time. She loves to playfully embarrass her siblings, especially her baby brother, and is fiercely protective of them.

Secondly Molise

Molise, the baby brother of Mario and Peach, is a child.At times, he can be a bit of a brat and wants to take control of situations, leading to him being quite bossy. However, he means well and is genuinely naive and smart even despite his young age. Despite his occasional bratty behavior, he has a kind heart and cares deeply for his family and friends.Molise shares some of his mother's traits, such as his pointy ears, and blonde hair. He's a bit of a neat freak and prefers to wear protective gear whenever he plays outside, so his clothes remain clean and dry. He has a blunt and honest personality. Also prone to being quite clingy and a bit spoiled at times. He also likes to keep himself entertained by watching cartoons and cheesy TV shows from the 90s and early 2000s, and playing card games. However, he's not a fan of horror movies, and in fact, he hates being scared or feeling spooked in any way.He is quite picky and tends to stick to the foods he likes. His favorite snacks include cookies, and he loves sharing Cassata ice-cream cake with his family. He's also not a fan of fart jokes or gross humor, finding them to be immature and childish.

Thirdly Lusia

Lusia, the only child of Daisy and Luigi, is an avid sports enthusiast and lover of literature. She shares some of her mother's fiery determination but is also known for her nervous nature, something she inherits from her father. Despite being a bit self-conscious about her appearance at times, Lusia finds solace in the fact that she has a sassy cousin in Peonia who helps boost her self-esteem.Lusia is particularly passionate about baseball and archery, two activities that she enjoys thoroughly. Though she loves sports and reading, she can sometimes overwork herself and is guilty of comparing herself to others, especially with respect to her body type. Lusia is a lean and athletic woman, stands 5’8ft tall and wears braces thanks to a childhood habit of eating metal. She has sharp fangs, and also has freckles with light black spots due to acne. Her favorite outfits are sporty ones and hates wearing dull and boring clothes but on weekends she prefers comfort and rides her skateboard while sipping her ice slushie. Lusia strives to live a comfortable and relaxing life, but sometimes she just can't control the urge to be active and adventurous.

@bberetd @maceincognito @house-of-xiii @magnas27 @peaches2217 @awesomewolf27

[yakool-foolio]

Alexa, play Only As Good As My God by Everything Everything. It's scenic for the downfall of Stronghart, as a song about police brutality also fits the mastermind behind the killing of many nobles and criminals who claims it's all in the name of justice. The horse imagery in this song aligns with Stronghart having unicorn motifs in his design. Funny how a symbol of purity and innocence is also a symbol of power and Stronghart took that from 0 to 100.

Van Zieks can you please roundhouse kick Stronghart for me? He's right next to you. Take the shot.

Sholmes: Well, back to my home planet. Beam me up, Iris!

The prosecutors have forgiven each other at last. Damn, Mikotoba saved the life of Klint's daughter, but the mother sadly passed. Van Zieks was completely left outta the know, but since the family name was tarnished, she was kept hidden for her safety.

WAIT.

SHOLMES TOOK CARE OF THE CHILD YOU SAY?

IRIS IS THE DAUGHTER OF KLINT?! SO SHE'S BAROK'S NIECE?!

Oh this is so funny to me cause I've been imagining Iris as Apollo's ancestor because of her deductive abilities taught by Sholmes (so Apollo would also technically be related to Sholmes teehee), but now that Klint is confirmed to be Iris' father... that would mean Apollo is distantly related to Edgeworth in my hypothetical family tree and that's wild.

Aw man, Van Zieks is resigning. NEVERMIND KAZUMA COMING IN CLUTCH TO CHANGE HIS MIND!

Sholmes n Mikotoba are so fuckin' cute dude I love their dynamic so much. Ay we got the pocketwatch back for Gina! A perfect memento mori!

This sentence aged like milk left out in the scorching sun before Gina even opened her mouth.

Iris is happy with her adoptive dad Sholmes, and him n Mikotoba continue to be extremely cute. All is right with the world.

Ryunosuke has made up his mind to return to Britain as a defense lawyer. I hope he'll visit his friends here when he can. SHOLMES N MIKOTOBA HAVE TO SEPARATE AGAIN NOOOOOOOOO

:00000000000 KAZUMA'S HERE TO SAY FAREWELL AUGHHHHHHHHH AND HE'S STAYING AS A PROSECUTOR HELL YEAH DUDE! OHHHHHH MY GOD HE'S ENTRUSTING KARUMA--HIS SOUL--TO RYNOSUKE AAAAAAAAAAAAAA IM CRYING MAN YOU GO KAZUMA SLAY YOUR DEMONS I BELIEVE IN YOU!

Aww yippee Susato's staying with Ryunosuke! Kazuma and Ryunosuke promise to duel each other in court someday! En garde!

OH MY GOD SOSEKI COVERED IN KITTENS WITH REI AND HOSONAGA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THIS IS THE B TEAM I NEED!

MY HEART... I LOVE THEM... WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

AWWWWWW SHOLMES N MIKOTOBA ARE DANCING TOGETHER YAYYYYYYYY

My babies <3

MY BABIES <3 X2

And that concludes The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles! This was an incredible duology that will stick with me for a long time. As much as the first game's cases may not have been as much to my fancy, the characters immediately hooked me in and the second game made it all worthwhile. The pins were set and knocked down in a fantastical fashion! TGAA2 might've actually surpassed Dual Destinies as my favorite Ace game, which is a tough height to reach! The Phantom is still my favorite culprit though, so don't worry no one's gonna steal his title heheh.

And with the story of the ancestors at an end (for now, please Capcom make a Van Zieks Investigation game with Kazuma as his assistant I beg you it's what I crave), it's time to go investigate some men with Edgeworth! Starting tomorrow! Perhaps I could write up my live reactions for this newly remastered duology, too, hmm... I'll let future Neo decide!

(To The One Who Saw This Escapade Through To Its End, And Whom I Welcome All Ramblings From - @raymondshields)

[sleepi-toasti]

𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℙ𝕠𝕤𝕥 ‼️

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yes i jus changed my whole blog appearance for like no reason whatsoever :3

I AM sleepi-toasti, my imgflip friends call me toasti, and my tumblr friends call me sleepi

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Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/They

Sexuality: Aroace

Fav colors: periwinkle, indigo, marigold orange, and black

Birthday: October 9th

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Fandoms/Interests (bc I am a silly multifandom :3):

(i fixate the most over the ones highlighted in purple and the ones w the star is the ones i post abt ^^)

Gacha life/Gacha club/Gacha life 2 ★

Madagascar ★

Mouthwashing

Twenty one pilots (bc they're my favorite band teehee)

Sonic

Murder Drones

TADC

Harold and the Purple Crayon (kinda idk)

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GL2 OC Codes

*(will be added soon)*

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I mainly post abt my hyperfixation with Madagascar, my gacha ocs, and random capcut memes no one cares about lol

Alt blog: https://www.tumblr.com/sleepi-toasti-version2

I am also on imgflip:

Link: https://imgflip.com/user/sleepi_toasti

YOU ARE ALL WONDERFUL ✨✨✨✨✨

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my special tags are

toasti answers: me answering questions

toasti found a cool challenge and reblogged it: specifically for gacha challenges

toasti joined a tag game: when i join those tag games i love sm

toasti rambles: me doing randomess teehee

toasti rambles abt madagascar: yk 😼

toasti rambles about fandoms: other fandoms I'll yap abt

toasti rambles but seriously: serious posts or maybe even vents

toasti's ocs: my gacha ocs and other ocs

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MADAGASCAR AU LIST:

Villain AU

Gods and Goddesses AU

The Happiest Video Game on Earth [HVGOE] AU

New York Drones AU (the zoosters are disassembly drones and the rest of the characters are worker drones!; all of the animals are drones how they became drones idk they just are drones; the zoosters learn to not kill the other characters; considering if penguins have the solver or if mort does bc in ahkj lore he is like god; no none of the md lore is in this au, the animals are just drones :3)

Office AU

Madagascar 4

If Molly was Alive AU

Oneshots

Soulmate colors AU

Red string of fate AU

Zoochosis AU (wip)

The Carnival of Extreme Values AU

Singer-songwriter AU

Weirdcore AU

Star Melman AU (in this au, melman is the famous one instead of alex)

Original Gloria Concept AU (she was originally gonna be pregnant in the first movie but w this au i just GAVE HER a daughter (no the kid is not a melria fan child, ellie has a hippo dad but he died))

Original Gloria Concept AU × Star Melman AU (these two go so well together idk why- just the mom, the daughter, and the father figure they adopted who really doesn't have time for any of this but secretly enjoys their company)

Hippo Siblings AU (gloria and moto moto are siblings; melria and melmoto au)

Thieves AU

Genderbend AU

Humanized AU

Dragging Dolls AU (dark af (melman's dead but he's... not? and gloria sees him being alive and she tried to convince her friends but they still think he's dead) (and it's called dragging dolls bc gloria is still traumatized and is DRAGGING melman's dead body around) (and dw he does come back but melman and gloria stay friends despite their love for each other (melman's dead so a relationship isn't an option😭) )

Herbivores are Carnivores & Carnivores are Herbivores (HACCAH) AU

The zoosters all died in some way lmao AU

Goth/Emo Melman AU (everything is the exact same except melman is EMOOOO)

TØP AU (melman is a clikkie hehehe; assume the zoosters are anthropomorphic and wear clothes like the animals in sing)

Enemies to Lovers AU (everything is the exact same except melman and gloria hate each other :3)

What Is There To Live For [WITTLF] AU (just a bunch of angst - i don't fool w this one as much as i used to)

High school AU

Swap AU

Predator and Prey AU (my first au!; based off a potential fanfic of mine; marlex au)

Medical AU (YOOOOOO the zoosters went to med school AND NOW THEY'RE ALL DOCTORS YEAHHHHH)

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also uh have my old pfps

and my old banners

i think it was this image idk i have two or three versions of this exact frame 😭

this one fr only lasted two days lmao

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 20/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

Surprise! Early update teehee

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Lucifer was roused from unconsciousness by murmurs—some panicked, others with anger, and a few laced with authority.

A sudden wet sensation against his face jolted him awake, causing him to flinch and startle the person beside him.

Lucifer: C-Charlie?

Charlie: Oh dad, thank goodness you're awake!

He lets out an 'oof' when he suddenly got an armful of his little girl. Not that he's complaining.

Lucifer: Uhm, did I pass out?

Charlie: Yeah. I don't blame you, though! I can't even begin to understand what you were feeling after witnessing that. Vaggie still hasn't woken up. She's up in our room; Cherri's watching her. Sorry we couldn't take you to yours. You put up wards there too.

Lucifer: That... what?

Charlie: What do you remember, Dad?

Lucifer: I remember being in the palace with Adam organizing my files and then Nifty came and said- Shit! Heaven!

His abrupt attempt to rise left him lightheaded, causing him to sway unsteadily before collapsing back onto the couch where he had been lying.

Charlie: Careful!

Lucifer: I can't believe I passed out. Again!

Angel: Yous should really stop doing that, shorty. Makin' all o' us worry for ya.

Angel appears out of thin air and handed him a bottle of water, expression filled with concern. He gives the actor a 'Thank you', accepting the offering.

Lucifer: But what's going on now? What happened to the ang- body? Did anyone else see it?

He doesn't like the look Charlie and Angel gave each other. Not at all.

Charlie: Dad... it wasn't just one body.

Angel: The fallin' shit we was seeing before? Those were angels too. As far as we can tell, they are littered all over the Ring.

Charlie: Rosie and the cannibals are more than willing to help with collecting them but there's too many bodies to round up even with their numbers.

Lucifer: They're still falling?

Charlie: Alastor and some of the magic-using sinners have put up a temporary barrier since you were out for the count. There's still a few bodies coming down but not as much.

Angel: The city looks fucked as hell. No pun intended.

Lucifer: Alright. Tell Rosie to take the bodies to the Embassy. I'll set it on hellfire to dispose of the corpses. Wait-

Lucifer's eyes scanned the surroundings, searching intently for a bunch of someones. Frustration etched lines on his forehead as he realized that they were nowhere to be found amidst the chaos.

Lucifer: Are the Sins here? What about Adam? Oh Father, I left him back there with Nifty!

Charlie: That's another problem-

She gestures quickly and wildly hearing what she just said.

Charlie: - But it's not Adam! He's still back at the palace, don't worry, I checked. In one piece-

Angel: Tch. Unfortunately.

Charlie: I think he's pretty shaken up by the whole thing too. He's refusing to leave the palace.

Lucifer: O-okay. That's fine. I can work with that. What about the Sins?

Charlie purses her lips.

Charlie: ...The impact of some of the fallen bodies damaged our communication systems.

Angel: Yous fancy elevators are also not working.

Charlie: Yes. I've opened the hotel for Hellborns that got stuck here that wanted to. But with the elevator down and having most of the demons here that aren't sinners being imps who do not have access to strong magic....

His daughter's words trailed off, conveying a sense of concern that Lucifer could keenly empathize with. Most of Hell's forces resided in the lower Rings, but with their current inability to even contact them by their usual means only makes their position more dangerous.

Determined to find a solution, Lucifer attempts to conjure a portal, his brows furrowing in concentration. However, to his mounting frustration, it proved futile. So he tries again. Nothing. And again and again and again.

Lucifer: What the hell?

With a flick of his hand, an apple materialized out of nothing. He briefly transforms into various forms—a snake, a bird, before returning to his normal form. A sense of unease is gnawing at him.

Everything seems to be fine so he tries to make a portal again. Fucking nothing.

Lucifer: W-why isn't it working?!

Angel: Hey hey. Maybe you're just having performance issues. Calm down.

Lucifer: I can't calm down! Why can't I make a portal?! I-I need to see them. I need the Sins!

Charlie: Dad!

But he can't. He's panicking and he feels himself beginning to spiral again until something struck him hard across the face, causing his head to swivel to the side.

He slowly looks back and realizes that Angel Dust just slapped him. A sinner dare to slap him. Him! The fucking King of Hell!

Anger begins to boil inside him until he really looks Angel in the eye. The porn star is looking back at him with eyes full of worry and concern.

It seems the other realizes what he's just done too because his eyes widened and he scrambled forward, multiple hands cupping Lucifer's face gently as he softly patted the spot he had just struck.

Angel: I'm sososososososo sorry, baby-uhm uh Your Majesty! Oh my god- I mean- gosh-sorry, am I allowed to say God? Ack! I did it again. But I'm so sorry, I don't know why I did that. I mean- I know why. You were about to have a panic attack and I really shouldn't have slapped you though. I totally could've just kissed you and you'll snap out of it all da same but we can kiss oh wait the strawberry pimp might actually murder me. I'm really really so-

He was cut off by Lucifer giving him a hug to which Angel all but melts into.

Lucifer: Thanks, Angel. I needed that. Don't make it a habit though.

However, their brief moment was shattered by a flash of light outside, followed by a shockwave that reverberated through the ground, sending tremors rippling through the hotel. A chorus of screams followed.

Lucifer: What was that?

Lucifer sounds like a broken record. He really needs to stop fainting and missing stuff or Katie Killjoy will call him a weak ass bitch in her next news segment.

Angel: It's the same light show we witnessed a few weeks back.

Lucifer: Michael?

Charlie: It's not aimed at us, Dad.

Angel: Pfft. Yeah, for now.

Charlie: But it's been going off so much. Whatever's going on up there... it's bad.

Angel: It's probably that, ain't it?

They don't have to say it out loud to know that the 3rd Heavenly War is happening. It had only been short of a month since he met with Michael and now things have escalated to the point that Michael is wrecking havoc upon his own people.

A weak part of him feels bad for his brother for being put in that position.

Lucifer shudders. When Roo told him of his death, he was in disbelief. When Michael showed him his Fate, he was not afraid. But now that the war is actually here, he only feels dread at the thought of what is bound to happen next. He can almost hear Roo's laugh.

With no way to get the Sins, all they have are sinners and some imps to defend themselves. It's only a matter of time before the mess in Heaven reaches them and cuts his thread.

Lucifer: Okay. For now, our strongest players are me, you, and the overlords. So, call them here. I need to speak with them.

Charlie: What are we going to do, Dad?

Angel: What's the plan, boss man?

For someone who kept wishing for death for over ten thousand years, he never wanted to live to see tomorrow more than now.

Lucifer: We're going to defend our home.

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Appledust is like a guilty pleasure ship. There's something about 2 broken souls finding togehter that gets me.

They are platonic in this fic tho. Radioapple is my life

I also promise that Lucifer is only gonna pass out one more time. for the last time

oops

[mizho-babe]

More sayama/musashi fic thoughts (slight spoilers; yeah sorry this blog is now my thought dumpster where i hash out my fanfics)

tonight i finished the rough draft of the whole dang thing :). Now i just gotta chop it up and edit it to make sure it sorta makes sense? But as I do that, I have some musings & questions on what I should change or flesh out more (or even axe?):

so. Milieu. I went on a small tangent about it in chap 3 but i love the idea of Sayama resenting Milieu with all her heart - because besides from him helping her father with... everything.... she hates and envies how Dunstan treats Milieu more like his own child than her. It was so so much fun exploring that dynamic, but it was also SO difficult because i had no idea how to write Milieu's motivations here - i know mostly everyone in this manga is written paper-thin but he is the thinnest of them all. Still, having Milieu as Sayama’s foil is delicious and tbh Takei SHOULD have taken advantage of that idea

at my core im a huge softie that's a sucker for wholesome romance and hurt/comfort so. all that to say. advance warning that chap 4 is mainly fluff as musashi and sayama learn more about each other. just want them to be cute despite how sad they both are

It’s okay though because chaps 5 & 6 are pure edgy angst and suffering teehee

i originally planned Dunstan as moustache-twirlingly evil for the sole purpose of Sayama's Angst (and he's still a POS) but unfort I think he’s a rly fucking cool character so he may come across a bit... calmer... than i originally wanted.

i was rereading the battle between Sayama & Akira and she literally says she's Dunstan's daughter from the 30th century. Idk how I missed that but - now I have thoughts swirling about that fact and the alternate directions the fic could take with it. How much of the 30th century does Sayama know about? I'm deciding not much and having her knowledge of the 30th century literally only be her birth and her sense-memories of Dunstan's lab - a princess stuck in a high tower, if you will - because why would her father give her freedom to live life in that time period when she's so involved with everything he does? And also, selfishly, for the purposes of this fic, I want her to know as little about the 30th century as possible so she can continue laughing @ Musashi when he tries to explain what life is like in the future

yeah so i wrote numerous explicit fucking scenes but i might get rid of most of them because i can't figure out how to seamlessly transition from those scenes to the angst and also the hurt/comfort sorry i'm a coward and dunno how to write this shit someone help

If i end up cutting it all just know that Saya is an absolute freak in the bedroom and musashi cant handle it at all

[omaegorverse]

oc highlight ^_^

RHAENA TARGARYEN born 155 AC is the fourth child and eldest daughter of Aerys I Targaryen and his half sister-wife Queen Rhaelle Targaryen, and twin to her younger brother Viserys.

She is born and raised during the rise of the Faith Protectorate and the Culling of the dragons. She is a wild tomboy and likes running away from her keepers. Idolises Visenya and Nymeria.

When Rhaena is 9, her younger sister Helaena gets locked up in the (newly built) Maidenvault before Rhaena due to precocious puberty and after she and her brothers attempt to rescue her, they are all punished :3 Eldest son Aemond gets a nail driven through his hand and a finger cut off (hand later necrotised and rotted off); Daeron was sent off to a septry in the stormlands (later got switched with a cousin and snuck out by rhaelle); Viserys was caned (harbinger of what is to come); and Rhaena was locked in the maidenvault and her father immediately began shopping for suiters.

Also at this time: Second son Aegon did not participate in the escape attempt because he had escaped Westeros a year prior; after the escape attempt Aemond claims a Dragonstone dragon, flies to the Red Keep, demands his father's head and throne, and gets shot down and killed on Aerys' orders by flaming arrows; and the Lord and Lady of the Hightower were executed by Aerys and the Faith Protectorate.

The Hightowers seceded from the Seven Kingdoms because of this, declaring Oldtown a city-state, allying with Dorne, and denouncing the King. Aerys then picked a different Hightower branch of cousins (one that had been passed over earlier and actually had a better line of decent, whole other story) and here is where he finds a husband for Rhaena.

He betroths Rhaena to the grandson of the new Lord-in-exile of the Hightower. She is fourteen, he is twenty, he is EVIL! and she plans her escape. compliant all the way up until the wedding where she and Viserys disappear. Spends a month travelling from the Red Keep to Oldtown, her father's men on her tail at every second. They catch up in the lands of House Hunt (who are Tarly loyalists, and the Tarlys are Faith Protectorate loyalists) and Viserys is captured, but Rhaena is able to escape.

Reaches Oldtown, where her aunt Princess Jaehaera has taken control. Jaehaera also has Rhaena's brother Aegon!! they had met up in Essos and Jaehaera had convinced Aerys to join her in her usurpation of Aerys :3 Aegon is drunk and apathetic but has a gf so he's sticking around acting as a figurehead

When word reaches Aerys of Rhaena at Oldtown, he immediately takes Viserys (his own son) as a hostage against Rhaena and is like "I will geld him if you dont return" and Rhaena wants to return but Jaehaera refuses. There's some back and forth and Rhaena trying to convince Jaehaera to save Viserys, but Jaehaera realistically cant. this is when Rhaena joins Aegon in drunken apathy.

Meets a lowly Toyne knight who is half-Costayne and sworn to the Hightower and starts a relationship with him :3 Jaehaera refuses to allow them to marry because he is basically a servant and she is now the highest ranked princess in their city-state. Jaehaera wants to marry Aegon to Rhaena also...

Anyway Daeron septry brother from paragraph 2 sucessfully usurps his father with the power of God Anime Dorne and the Hightowers and Rhaena is free :3 teehee not she is 15 and scared forever :3

[eternalchant]

1, 2 + 3 for shade :)

lilithhhh my friend lilith! (＾▽＾) rambled a bit more than i thought i would so um teehee read more moment

1. Where can your Tav be recruited?  Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region?  Or are they not recruitable until a later act?

Hmm, actually. I have two potential thoughts for this. One, where she's an act one recruit - she would be encountered much as the rest of the origin characters are, I think possibly somewhere between the Grove and where you encounter Karlach, potentially skulking around the Blighted Village, eyeing the goblins up a bit and just getting a feel for what's going on in the village, being a sneaky little rogue. The second potential thought, and perhaps slightly more interesting one, would be that she's encountered & recruited early in act two. Her Archfey patron is Lurue and my current vague idea for her becoming a warlock is that she is afflicted by the shadowcurse, but is approached by Lurue (in the shape of a unicorn) and offered healing and power in exchange for combating the curse. Now, it could be fun to meet her (very) soon after that exchange but also... potentially having her around and experiencing that event after spending time with her... could also be fun !

2. Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav?

If recruited in act 2, I think that Shadowheart would definitely have something to say as I'm running with the idea of Lurue being a daughter of Selune and also Lurue just isn't quite in line with the Sharran line of thinking. I also have toyed with the idea of Astarion and Shade vaguely being aware of each other as she was part of the underbelly back in Baldur's Gate. Perhaps a bit of cagey recognition there, I don't think that either would be incredibly excited to reveal much about their seedy pasts just yet.

3. Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions?

Again, if somehow she were around for Astarion's recruitment, Shade might have a small, vague comment about not trusting him or "I'd watch this one", something of that nature. I feel like she'd be almost starstruck by Wyll, honestly. 😭 She wasn't the best person back in Baldur's Gate, but she's actually a bit of a disowned noble, so I feel like there'd be a bit of kinship between them after finding out about his relationship with his father. BUT initially I feel like there'd be this idea of like... because she isn't exactly happy where her life ended up, he was someone that she would have seen as inspiring. Not quite Karlach meeting Jaheira levels of excitement but I think there'd be stars in her eyes seeing him initially, maybe a cheeky comment about being joined by the Illustrious Blade of Frontiers after recruiting him.

send me oc asks !

[mojaves]

🍍 + 🍒 for leon, 🍰 + 🍕 for xavier and 🍎 + 🍪 for seb >:^)

EHEHE

LEON

🍍: Where does your OC feel most comfortable?

IN HIS BED!!! that sounds like a haha funnie joke but listen. whenever he is sad or stressed or overwhelmed, he gets in bed and builds a pillow fort and hides under as many blankets as he can find. he feels safe in there, nothing can get him, and he can just lay in silence for a bit, clear his head, and calm down. even more comfortable if his bf is there with him though <3

🍒: Has Your OC had their first kiss yet? If so, with who?

YES!!! it was his bf if you can believe it. his first ever bf too. the concept of initiating any sort of intimacy with anyone was absolutely terrifying to him. and yet somehow!!! he was the one to go in for the kiss first and that will never not make me insane. world's bravest boy. im so proud of him. he could only do it bc his brain shut off for half a second but it's fine. he's very happy now (:

XAVIER

🍰: What's something your OC counts as unforgivable?

on account of him being insane and full of arasaka brainworms, not much would've been unforgivable to him, other than anyone possibly bringing any sort of harm to his daughter. he Would kill whoever dared to do that, even though it's against arasaka protocol. she is far more important to him than his job would ever be. after he finally gets out of there and becomes a regular functioning man, that would Still be 10000% true, but it also extends to other people who are in his life now, and he's WAY less likely to let shit slide. he will call you out on it bc he actually Cares now <3 well. he would have done before but. he's finally in a place where he can act on it.

🍕: How does an OC spend a lazy day?

back at arasaka, he wouldn't have had a single lazy day at all ever, so now that he finally can, he is taking advantage of it as much as he possibly can. he will Not get out of bed until 11am at the earliest. don't even try to get him out earlier he Will fall asleep wherever he is. by accident or on purpose?? no one knows. he will also try to annoy his daughters as much as he possibly can. [daughters?? plural?? yes. dont worry about it] having the world's longest bath in the history of forever. if someone needs to pee well they will have to wait he is not going anywhere. makes dinner and is Very gay about it.

SEB

🍎: Do they share any features or traits with any family members?

everyone in his family has the same nose, and dark brown, almost black eyes [which he eventually changes back to soemtime in the future teehee]. it's a very distinctive nose, and anyone who knows about his family in any capacity, can very easily spot when someone is a vidal. for better or worse. he got is love of cooking from his mother, and his painfully annoying stubbornness from his father. not exactly a shared trait, but more or less something he learned - he would put his life on the line for his siblings no matter what, even when his father told him to only look after himself. he never listened, and is definitely better off for it. he would always choose to help someone in need instead of walking away, every time.

🍪: What is something that's sentimental to you OC?

the van he used to live in for the few years between getting kicked out of his family and joining arasaka, there was only enough room for a small mattress and all his belongings - there werent that many, most of his stuff got passed down to his siblings. his whole life was in that van, but once he joined arasaka, he was forced to sell it, belongings and all, which he was understandably very upset about. just over a decade later, he finds it again, and - a facking miracle - everything in it was left completely untouched. the outside needed to be fixed up quite a bit bc of how rundown and rusty it was, but he didn't care. he loves fixing up cars. he's just happy all his stuff, all the photos of him and his siblings, etc etc. is safe. and he can look back on it all again.

[dickytwister]

🖊️🩹💯🍃🍎🧡💙🍔 for my babygirl jasper please :^)

TEEHEE THANK U my babyboy babygirl girlfriend jasper,,,,,,,

🖊️ BALLPOINT PEN — does your oc have any tattoos? do they want any (more) tattoos?

jasper has MANY MANY tattoos :3 too lazy to explain it all so i’ll just copy and paste a snippet from a google doc:

“Jasper’s tattoos are magical in nature; he uses his epidermis as a pocket dimension where he stores whatever he wants, from weapons and tools to more abstract concepts like memories and voices.

His arsenal consists of:

– Glock 19 + suppressor and sights Location: Underside of his left arm – M16 rifle + suppressor and sights Location: Left side of the back – 50 cal Barrett M82 sniper rifle + suppressor and sights Location: Right side of the back all the way to the middle of his right thigh – Two black karambit knives Location: Curving under his pectorals – Bowie knife Location: Right forearm – Garrote Location: Wrapped around the right wrist and arm – Six throwing knives Location: Five around his left ankle + one on top of his right foot – Push dagger Location: Underside of the left wrist

On his right ankle, Alfie (his adopted son) signed his name. Later, Bucky, Jacob and Sam added their own signatures, followed by Arlo (his adopted daughter). 

As a member of the Family (criminal organisation), Jasper also has the customary tattoo at the base of his neck. It’s not as faded as Ellis’ or Locke’s, since he rejoined the Family and had it redone after the Snap was reversed.”

whenever he feels like it, jasper can add a tattoo to his collection simply by storing the object in his skin :p

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

he does 😔😔 jasper is an alcoholic. he also suffers from depression and is suicidal as all hell. most of it stems from the way he was raised by the family and, later, by alfie’s passing. he does try to get better and his friends and boyfriends help a lot, but it’s still really hard and he often relapses after messed up missions or fights with his partners. that is until arlo walks into his life and he gets his shit together!!

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

– jasper loves writing. and by that, i mean that he wishes he could write, but he’s not very good at it. he just has so much to say!! as mentioned in the next question, he loves literature and he wishes he could write down some things as well, even if it’s just a letter to his boyfriends or a funny story for arlo. – he doesn’t usually smoke, but he does when he’s really really stressed. he’s also a social smoker, but he doesn’t do it much, mostly bc it tastes bad and his boyfriends don’t wanna kiss him after he’s smoked. he mostly does it bc it looks sexy (i’m sorry it does i can’t change that) – jasper met bucky on a job to kill him, after the snap was reversed. that much is fine, but he only took the job because he hoped the winter soldier would kill him; the loss of his son was too much for him to bear and, after a failed suicide attempt, he started taking as many difficult jobs as possible so that one of them might leave him dead.

🍃 LEAVES FLUTTERING IN WIND — what is/was your oc's favorite subject in school?

jasper is a big fan of literature somehow. i say somehow bc he sucked at it and also reads one book a year, but it was also one of the only subjects that didn’t revolve around death and whatnot (because, again, raised by the family, and that involved school life as well). 

🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?

jasper comes from edinburgh, scotland. he hasn’t lived there in decades; when he was a child, the company his father worked for went bankrupt, so they all moved back to the united states, where jasper was mostly raised by his grandmother before the family took him. jasper feels nothing for his birthplace: the family made sure that he would have no ties to anything but them.

🧡 ORANGE HEART — does your oc tend to prioritize family or friends?

in jasper’s case, his friends are his family. sure, there’s The Family, aka the criminal organisation that took him as a young teenager, but there’s also his family, the one he built himself. he prioritizes that one over the one that raised him. the only exceptions are diaz, locke and ellis, his siblings in the family, who he also considers his actual family despite having cut ties with the criminal group.

💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world?

jasper’s power. confuses me. solely bc i have reworked it sooo many times. initially it was supposed to be magical ink that made his tattoos into actual objects, but then it’d be p hard to tattoo an entire sniper rifle on his own back. so now what i’m thinking is he stole sm sorcerer sanctuary and it gave him his power, making him into a human bag of holding :3 

🍔 HAMBURGER — is your oc good at cooking? are they good at baking? which one do they prefer?

jasper is pretty good at cooking!! not so much at baking, but still. a good cook!! he’s had to learn how to do it as part of his training (because an assassin with an empty stomach isn’t gonna do their job right innit) but really worked harder on it when he had to take care of alfie. 

ask me about my ocs!! 💙

[proshipteddy]

Bringing back the crossover incest... Fischl (Genshin Impact) x Gundham...

Gundham being a perverted creep towards his cute little daughter <3

she lets him touch her body however he wanted because she absolutely loves her daddy and doesn't want to disappoint him!

they also do father-daughter bonding activities like Gundham pounding his daughter's cunny in his bedroom while his wife was out of the house and using his daughter's holes as a cockwarmer!

she did always love being filled up with her daddy's seed, after all, it was suepr addicting... <3

As a side note I feel like Gundham at some point would get her checked cause yk "we've fucked unprotected so many times.... How have you not gotten pregnant-"

If he found out she was infertile, well.... Let's just say he would wanna test that theory-

ANYWAYS-

Silly bonding activities :3

Do you think he teaches her how to do shibari? By tying her up?-

What does he tell fischl? Or does the wife know...mmmmm so many thoughts... Teehee

[inklores]

──SPOILERS FOR PDTG CHAPTER 6

the meta below contains a reply to a wonderful comment made on the ao3 mirror of chapter 6 that i wanted to explore further but once again, major spoiler alert!

"nothing cuts like a scalpel. or a mother."

i wanted the depiction of a dysfunctional mother-daughter relationship to be more raw so i felt that this two-sentence summary was pretty succinct. i went back and forth with developing xo's mother, including how their conversation would deviate and be manipulated by what is very clearly her disapproval, envy, and secret disdain for her daughter and the choices she made in her life. i was very heavily influenced by the line in barbie: "We mothers stand still so our daughters can look back and see how far they've come."

and while that quote is so tearjerking and heartwarming and pure in a sense, my mind kind of went along with the idea of "what if the mother didn't WANT to stand still?" i guess that's what framed the riffs about aspirations and i hope it's alluded to julieta having had dreams that she had to hang up in order to raise two kids. especially having xo in her 30s (with glossed-over birth complications), it was kind of the nail in the coffin which—while unjustified—explains why she treats xo more of a chore or a laborious entity. and considering the bits and pieces of xo's life that i've dropped, she was seen as a daddy's girl, she got pregnant before marriage but was still able to balance being an accomplished surgeon and mother (though she wrestles with that confidence a LOT), i definitely think there's a bit of jealousy on julieta's end.

writing some of those nasty snipes from a mother to her DAUGHTER was definitely difficult but i like to think of it as a representation of how the apple really does fall far from the tree. it's cruel that a turbulent mother like julieta still has her child while xo was robbed off that. i also love torturing my ocs but yeah teehee :)

stephen variant was such a fun little scene to kick off xo's surgical life and while he is still the arrogant and ambitious guy that earth-199999's strange was pre-accident, he's still a good guy at his core and was certainly there for xo during the harder parts of her life <3

THE MIGUEL SCENE AS WELL HAS A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART. xo's father, captain solano, is indeed alive in his universe (atsv didn't indicate whether miguel endured the loss of a police captain close to him... food for thought). also not sure if we'll get more of his backstory in btsv but i figured it was a good place to play around in and see what a spider does when (or IF) he ever clocks out. knowing that miguel survives off of guilt and bears many crosses, i wondered how that could be extended to his past and especially earth-928 xo. i briefly allude to this during the scene where he hijacks 510-xo's phone call, but i imagine he was a bystander to some of the fights that his xo and julieta had before her death and that hopeless pain is felt even more by watching history repeat itself. and clearly, with how completely broken the 928-solanos are without xo, i can imagine miguel feels culpable for witnessing that phone call and having dinner with them anyway.

this chapter is very special to me for multiple reasons:

1) it delves more into xo's backstory, career, platonic friendships, and her damaged relationship with what's left of her family. (also meeting victor for the first time but there's obviously some gritty distance between them!)

2) there are distinct cut-offs that are explored with 510-xo and 928-miguel's lives. she has the marriage and the child, and what miguel believes is the "what-could-have-been" ending while miguel is stuck with the "never-knowing." however, the complications of either being gone (a xiomara without a miguel and a miguel without a xiomara), are very different, and it's prevalent in this chapter.

3) just the mother-daughter mess in general 🥲 the fact that julieta is evidently more damaged WITHOUT her daughter than she is with her and it's just ajdfsbjhdfbsj

i'm sure there's more i can talk about this chapter and how xo's dysfunctional relationship with her mother is influenced by the relatively unstable/intricate relationship with the male figures in her life, ALONG with how it affected her own experience with motherhood and marriage but my laptop is quite literally at 1% 🥲

i promise this isn't gonna be a regular thing with my pdtg updates but i just had to explore this chapter a bit more <3 thank you to anyone who read this!!

[jupiteeee]

Welcome to my account

this is gonna be my little diary for my Sims 4 legacy that's been going on since like.. 2021. YAY!

So welcome to the Greens Legacy. (I call it that, but is it really a legacy? Not really, I just wanna play a family for generations and have a storyline going)

I can catch y'all up to speed a little bit. It started with Marina Greens. She got with a random guy and had two daughters. Marinette (teehee, love miraculous) and Adora (Also a she-ra fan!). Then she settled down and married Nick. Then they had a set of triplets! Rowan, Thea, and Theo. Eventually, they had one last kid together when I picked my heir and moved her out. Judy! Then it was off to the second generation with my heir...

Marinette Greens got together with none other than Alexander Goth! After a makeover (I made him hot). They got through Marinette's time at Britechester, got a house and they had 3 kids together. Robin, Asteria and Vinnie. Marinette has been my favorite heir so far. She LOVED her family, especially her Stepfather, Nick. She was nerdy AND an athlete? What's not to love about her? Eventually, I chose my next heir.

Around this time in the playthrough. I was moving my next heir out of her old family home and well... ended up accidentally deleting about half of her family. In my defense, I picked up this file again for the first time after about 9 months and forgot basic playing mechanics. I ended up deleting Marinette, Alexander, and Vinnie before it was their time. I also deleted Adora, Thea, and Judy while trying to move them around too. (I clicked the X button, thinking it would just move them to my unplayed sims and just didn't read the pop-up. I cried for like an hour that day). I still had Rowan and Theo wandering around the world for a bit before they got old and died. I still decided to keep playing!

Robin Greens! Being so fr rn. I SWOREE she was gonna be gay. Then out of nowhere, Devonte shows up and he was obsessed with her!! They were the true definition of friends to lovers. They were close friends and eventually got together. He loved everything about her, how she loved animals. Her true passion was singing. So she was a singer. Went to college (with a bit of encouragement from her mom) for Fine Arts too! These two (Robin and Devonte) got BUSY. They had 5 kids together. Isabela, Wren, Charlotte, Sage and Oliver. She had the last three when she was a bit older. Eventually leaving me having to pick a new heir to work on...

Charlotte Greens! This girl could NOT choose how she wanted to go about her life. She was going to continue in the way of her line before her, going to college... However, It was immediately a bad omen to her mother that she didn't choose to go to Britechester. Instead, she started at Foxbury. Her father supported her all the way though. She started as a Biology major. Meeting Zack and falling in love too. Eventually, she felt college wasn't a good fit for her and dropped out. Moving into a small apartment with Zack. They got engaged and had their first child. Vinnie (rip to the OG)! Then they had another, Sebastian, and now they have Vivian (most likely my heir). They now live on a large ranch, and everything seems perfect for them, but I am ITCHING for some drama!

Let's figure out how this goes :)

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

prūmӯs ñuhus (my heart) │Chapter 9: Reconciliation (NSFW!)

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 │Chapter 9 │Chapter 10 │Chapter 11 │Chapter 12 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Childbirth is the duty and dismay of all highborn women. Together, you and Daemon experience the trials, tribulations and triumphs of expectant parenthood. You mend a broken bond.

(Set post-episode 7, though Daemon never married Laena or Rhaenyra.)

Thank you to @angelqueen04​​​, @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ and @ajthefujoshi​ for holding my hand throughout the drafting, teehee!

Triggers: incest, age gap, purity culture, detailed depictions of pregnancy, discussion of abortion, medieval beliefs on abortifacients and contraceptives.

You leave under the cover of darkness.

So scattered and stunned are you that you do not think to question being roused by a wide-eyed Bethany and dressed by a yawning Jeyne, led slowly from your chambers with Daeron all but nodding off at your side, conveyed down the stairs and out to the courtyard where Daemon and the wheelhouse await. The particulars seem unimportant. You drowse on his shoulder all the way to the harbour, where the ship is docked and ready. When you are brought aboard and borne to your quarters for the journey, you fall immediately back to sleep.

It is as though some kind of spell has lifted when you awaken once again. You blink as you take in your surroundings: the wood-grain slats spanning up the walls and along the ceiling in shades of tawny richness; the light streaming brightly through the windows adorned with damask curtains of crimson, in complement to the vast rug of Targaryen red and black rolled across the floor; and the subtle signs of Daemon’s presence, from the overcoat carelessly tossed across the back of a chair to Dark Sister placed in her sheath on the table, belt and all. It is the first time in days that you truly see the world around you.

There is something cursed about the capital, you muse absently to yourself. Something strange and unnatural that seeks to steal the joy from all who enter it.

You startle slightly at the sound of your name. “You frightened me.”

Truthfully, you are more than a little relieved to have Daemon in your presence, wanting little else but the surety of your husband by your side. He smiles as he approaches, gentle steps rather than the strident thud of boots against the floor that you are so used to. Your mournful mood has unnerved him greatly.

Poor, poor kepa.

“How do you feel?” he asks, obligingly slotting a hand behind your back as you struggle to pull yourself upright. You wince at the catch and snarl of fabric over your nipples, the sensation of something sticky being ripped from flesh too quickly, sharp and stinging. At the sight of your grimace and the sound of your frustrated huffs as you try and fail to find a comfortable position to sit in, he settles himself along the pillows behind you and coaxes you to lean back against him. He is warm and firm and smells of all the things you love, of smoke and leather and something intrinsically masculine and safe. His lips find the shell of your ear. “Hm?”

You had forgotten to answer. “I am well,” you say.

Grabbing for his hand, you lead him to the place where one of the babes has decided to make themselves known, kicking indignantly out at the side of your belly from within. He laughs at the sensation, pressing back against the assault and engaging in a tussle with the audacious little rascal.

You elbow him gently, frowning up at him. “Do not encourage his behaviour, kepus! He is being terribly rude.”

“She’s just being her father’s daughter, little girl.” Using his free hand to cradle beneath your chin, he leans down to kiss you. It is a soft brush of lips upon lips, barely there, the heat of his thumb tracing a line across your jaw. His eyes glow like vivid spring in the morning sun, vivid beneath his browbone. “No harm in that.”

“They are both free to be their father’s children after they come into the world,” you say, though it is more of a whisper than anything else. “Not while they can use my insides as target practice.”

“Of course.” It sounds distinctly mocking, but not quite insulting. You roll your eyes.

With the heaviness of your middle making it taxing enough to move about on land, it seems all but impossible to take the fresh air while on board a steadily rocking ship. Thus, Ūlla decrees that you are to stay abed for the sennight’s voyage back to your island home. The thought of hauling your body—rife with aches and pains across your spine, your chest, your knees, and swelling unpleasantly at the ankles—around such unstable terrain sounds positively exhausting, and so you submit to her directive with little fuss. You cannot claim boredom, however, for your temporary apartments are a revolving door of visitors come to break up the monotony of each day.

Your new ladies are a near constant presence, which provides you the opportunity to get to know them better. It had grieved you greatly to dismiss Senna, especially so soon after the passing of Miriam, but you knew you could not keep someone capable of such treachery in your service. You had asked Helaena to make enquiries to the court; Bethany and Jeyne were the very first parties to express their enthusiasm for the role. Being from minor Houses, their families bear no particular allegiance in the strife between Green and Black. Your initial meeting with the girls proved them to be every bit as guileless and courteous as you would have hoped.

Mayhaps they are a little dull, you think as you listen to them chatter about the new gowns their fathers had paid for as going-away presents, but there is time to remedy that.

You are gladdened to have Ser Alton also make an appearance, scarred and limping heavily with the use of a cane. He will remain in your service, perhaps as guard to your babes’ nursery when the time comes. Whatever use Daemon finds for him, you are insistent that he be given a worthy stipend for the remainder of his life, though it will be but a mere pittance compared to his great sacrifice. You feel guilty when he grins at your pronouncement of this, for he would not be in such a predicament were it not for you.

You cast the thought aside. What is done is done.

Daeron is your favourite guest of all, though. He reads to you in halting Valyrian, childish cadence shaping around unfamiliar sounds. Though he struggles so, his stubborn perseverance is adorable. He babbles about the ‘tricks’ Athfiezar has taken to the skies to perform, your boy dutifully flying back and forth from his roost to observe your progress home. Your heart aches at the fact that you are missing his little routine, that you are unable to get up and see him as you have craved since first hearing his almighty caterwauling from the highest parapet of the Red Keep, your devoted mount always protecting you from afar. But mostly, your young brother lays about with you, cheek to your belly so that he can feel the babes’ kicks upon his skin.

“Ouch!” He jerks back, glaring at your middle and looking so comically outraged that you cannot help but to laugh. “That one hurt!”

“I am sure they did not mean to,” you say, hand reaching forth to card through his hair fondly. “They just want to say ‘hello’.”

In truth, the sensation is inexplicable. You understand now why it is so difficult for mothers to describe it to one who has not experienced the same. At times, it feels as though your body has become a host to something foreign and frightening, an arcane entity that saps your energy and threatens to burst out from within. But you are strangely relieved by the oddness of it, the bruising signs of lives that are thriving in spite of all that has occurred.

“There’re better ways to say that,” Daeron mutters, bringing you forth from your musing as he returns to his previous position. His next words are muffled into your gown, the sounds vibrating through to your skin and making you giggle. “Be gentle, baby.”

When you arrive on the shores of Dragonstone, it takes everything within you not to cry at the familiar sight of sharp stone contours looming from grey mist, the salt and smoke in the air filling your nostrils with the scent of home. You have missed this place more than you realised. You are guided from the ship to the rowboat to the shore by Daemon and Harwin both, the latter taciturn to the extreme since the discovery of his brother’s crimes. He cannot be faulted for this. You convey what gratitude you can in your silence, leaving him to his thoughts. The sway of the boat makes you queasy, and you are forced to a standstill upon reaching the dock so that you may bend as far as you are able to retch into the sea.

Daemon does his best to soothe you, patting your hip as you grip tightly to his arm for balance. “The worst is over, sweetling. There we go.”

“Ugh.” You wipe the bile from your mouth with the back of your hand. “Never again. Never—never again.”

He chuckles. “If you say so. Hardly a loss. I’ve always fucking hated sea travel.”

You side-eye him irritably. How infuriating he is with that grin stretched joyously across his face, his silver hair ruffling in the wind, expression gleaming with amusement and something wicked.

He is so handsome, you think. You despise him. No, I do not. I cannot.

Suddenly, there is a voice on the wind. You hear your name being called, high and frantic. You cast your gaze down the dock to see a cream-and-scarlet shape advancing quickly toward you, pale hair white and streaming in the weak light. Rhaenyra.

“Sister!”

She is wan and tearful when she reaches you, all but barrelling into you and folding her arms around your shoulders. The smell of her perfume—of jasmine and sandalwood and childhood and simplicity—transports you to another time, a time when you were small and she was so big and not just in stature, but in temperament too, and her embrace was the safest place in the whole entire world. In this moment, you cannot recall why you ever had cause to feel anger, why you had not spoken to her in what feels now like an age. You have missed her, you have missed her and she is with you and all is right and good. All the rest is ash and dust upon the breeze.

“I am here,” you murmur into her shoulder, or perhaps you weep it, tears wetting the fabric of her gown and belly crushed to hers. “I am home.”

“I wanted to come, but Father…” Rhaenyra’s nostrils flare.

It is a profound relief to find yourself in familiar chambers, the rooms where you feel safe and most at ease. Little has changed. The same grim dark walls stand etched with screaming dragons above a stately bedframe swathed in wine-dark velvet, the same bookshelves are stacked with tomes shared between you and your uncle, the same balcony carved from stone is lit by the setting sun. The babes’ eggs remain warmed in their braziers by the hearth, chasing the chill from the room and bringing a merry glow with the crackling flames. You take this all in from your place on the chaise.

“I know,” you say quietly, uncertainly. Despite the fact that your hand is clutched in hers and her eyes are ringed red and raw with worry, you do not quite know where you stand. “Daemon told me.”

She had tried to bully her way to King’s Landing, or so you had been told. Having both witnessed and been on the receiving end of her temper, you do not envy the poor souls who had been made to inform the Princess that she could not mount Syrax to venture forth to your aid.

That she had made such fuss is encouraging, you think. A sister who means to break ties would not threaten to have her staff executed or destroy countless priceless artifacts or scream loud enough to wake the dragons on the other side of the island in her desperation to come to you.

Rhaenyra’s grip tightens to the point of pain, her eyes shadowing with malcontent and the polychromatic thunder of untapped wrath.

“I cannot believe Larys fucking Strong. That he is capable of such—such—” She cuts herself off after a glance at you, huffing in lieu of what would no doubt have been an impressive string of profanities. Shaking her head, the corners of her lips curve up weakly. “I’m surprised Uncle allowed the cunt to live. And Father’s sent ravens, you know—he’s rather put out by the manner in which you left.”

From what you have gathered, Daemon had readied your household with extreme discretion, taking only days to collect what he deemed essential so that he may deliver you from the city without so much as a by-your-leave in the earliest hours. Save for a cursory message passed along to the servants, there was no proclamation made of your departure to the King or the court.

“Yes, well.” What arrogance he has to be wroth after the manner he had discarded my right to justice!  “As for Lord Larys… I do not think Daemon intends to let the matter lie,” you say. “He is going to… well, I do not know, exactly. I did not ask. I just—wanted to come home.”

At that, her countenance lightens. “I’m glad you’re back,” she says, as though it is some great secret wrested from deep within her. You could have guessed such from the way she is looking at you like you are returned from beyond the veil.

And yet, it makes you frown. “Are you?” you ask, the memory of the garden threading through your mind, that terrible argument that had shaken the foundations of your bond with your sister.

You can almost hear her echoing words again, vicious and biting. You don’t even realise how spoiled you are.

Rhaenyra closes her eyes and swallows, and you catch the faint shakiness to the exhalation that follows as she prepares to answer you. She extricates herself from your hold, though it carries no air of rejection, and gazes pensively down at her lap where her hands now lay. You notice that she is turning the ring upon her middle finger with her thumb over and over. She is nervous, you realise. You wonder how it is possible that you are able to elicit such uncertainty in one so unwavering. She suddenly scoffs, though from the brooding set of her brow you suppose she directs this to none but herself. “I’m sorry,” she finally says. “I—hated myself the moment I said those awful things…”

“Why?” This is far kinder than she had been last time you spoke. You do not want to incite her displeasure now. “Why were you so cruel to me?”

As the days have passed, you have found this to be the query of paramount importance. It is not as though you had not known her capable of rage. She is a creature of passion, of fire, and she had rained flames down upon you for a reason. But you cannot—will not—accept the blame for it.

“I was angry. Jealous, even.” Rhaenyra sighs at the expression on your face. “I know. It’s horrible of me.”

You are sure you appear every bit as bewildered as you feel. “But why? You’re Rhaenyra.”

“And you’re very sweet, darling.” A beat, then two; she hesitates, staring past you for a moment before refocusing, eyes returning to yours with steely resolve. “You… you know that Laenor is not like—other men. He prefers those of a… particular persuasion. Of which I am not.”

Here, she pauses. You grasp for her hand again, squeezing encouragingly. She takes a breath. “We tried. Of course we did,” she says. “But no child would come. I needed heirs if I was to ascend the Iron Throne one day. So, I… sought assistance elsewhere.”

“Harwin.”

She flushes at your prompt declaration, glancing down. “Yes, Harwin. And he’s been good to me. They were both good to me. He and Laena.”

It grieves you still to hear your cousin’s name, but you keep yourself from lingering overlong upon the thought of dark skin and silver coils and merry laughter.

A wry, pained sort of smile curves Rhaenyra’s lips as she speaks, drawing you further into the present.  “But I always knew—I’ve always known, in the back of my mind, that the gossip is true,” she says. Her eyes shine like polished glass, but you know she will not break. “My sons are the best part of my life, but they are not Laenor’s. Everyone sees it. Everyone knows it. It’s so… draining, living that lie.”

Your sister is a proud woman. After having spent so many years denying your nephews’ illegitimacy to the court, the people, the Greens, to Father, to the gods themselves, it must be dreadful indeed to admit to this truth, even if it is only to you.

“And you…”

She lifts her chin to look at you, forehead wrinkling with the drawing together of her brows. Her tone is not quite accusatory, though the hurt of past wounds brings a weak rise of defensiveness rushing over you. You pull away slightly.

Her countenance gentles. “You have a husband who can give you children. Children whose blood will never be questioned, never be whispered about or mocked or insulted. No one will ever dare accuse you of being a whore. I… It finally became too much for me.”

You do not feel guilty for your response to Rhaenyra’s malice, for the venom you had voiced in that argument from what seems like so many moons ago now. Despite this, you cannot help but to pity her.

‘Tis the folly of youth to think her unmoved by the slander bandied about across the Realm, you chide yourself. You ought to have considered this. “I did not know,” you whisper, regret bitter and tickling in the back of your throat. “I didn’t realise. I thought—”

‘I thought you wanted my husband.’ You let the implication hang in the air. A swooping sensation in your gut heralds the uncomfortable reminder that you still—still—have not told him of this argument.

“Yes.” She nods, anticipating the statement before it has even been made. “And I told you before, when first you were wed. That prospect died long ago. I have no need for Daemon.” She rolls her eyes as though the idea of desiring your uncle is some great folly. You might be insulted on his behalf were it not for the relief that it brings. “None of this was your fault. My own recklessness has led me here, I realise that. I know I do not deserve it, but… please. You’re my sister. If there is anyone I need, it is you. Please forgive me.”

“Oh, ‘Nyra.” Your belly gets in the way, forcing you to contort awkwardly to the side as you move to wrap your arms around her. Her chin falls to the dip between your neck and shoulder, her laugh gusting across exposed skin at the sensation of the babe that is snugged between you kicking out against her body. You giggle with her, angling yourself toward her ear so that she may hear you fully. “Next time you are feeling this way, talk to me. Stop shutting me out. I can handle it, I’m old enough now—”

“I know, I know.” Tugging out of your embrace, she lets her hands fall to your middle.

It is the first time she has truly felt the change in you of her own volition. You remember when you had forced her to touch the burgeoning swell upon first announcing the lives you bear, how reluctant and feather-light her palm had felt, how the strain had unveiled itself at the corners of her eyes and in the weak tilt of her mouth as you had chattered at her in excitement.

“Gods,” she says, fingers mapping the span of flesh in interest, “but you truly are a woman grown now, aren’t you? Look at this!”

“They are already unruly. I feel as though I am perpetually seated in the privy, such is their insistence on entertaining themselves with my insides.”

And once my ablutions are complete, you think ruefully, I am not capable of seeking other locales until someone deigns to find me and help me up. It had not been the best task with which to induct your new ladies—but needs must.

“They’re strong. That’s good. Father must have been pleased.”

“Hm.”

“I’d love to have seen the look on Alicent’s face when she first saw you.”

You shift uncomfortably at the mention of your stepmother. I do not wish to think about her. Not here, not now.

Rhaenyra does not seem to notice your recalcitrance, persisting along her chosen avenue of oration. “She never could stand it whenever I announced another babe. Worried about her precious Aegon, no doubt…” She stops. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I—I—”

At the sight of her concern, so warm and welcome after moons of silence and avoidance, your terrible secret spills forth like water breaking through a dam, unstoppable, rushing torrentially and obliterating everything in its path. You trip over your confession in your haste to get it out, to purge yourself of the burden of carrying it alone.

When you are done, the stillness lingers unnaturally, so quiet that you can almost hear the sound of your blood pumping through your veins.

“Alicent—she… what?” Rhaenyra’s eyes are wide, horrified, face blanched.

“Yes—do tell.”

You turn to see Daemon standing in the open doorway to your chambers, stiffer than the draconic stone carvings that man the entrances to the Keep. Scarcely stemmed rage emerges thunderous beneath the cracks in his control. It seems to vibrate out of him like the dust that quivers on the air after Athfiezar’s landing, deceptively calm until you look closer. The forbidding cross of his arms and the violence that looms in the shadow beneath his brow is enough to tell you without risking inquiry that he has heard you. Has heard everything.

Oh. Your heart twists anxiously. Oh, dear.

“I—”

Speak, for the gods’ sake, you urge yourself, but the sounds refuse to shape themselves into words. Your mettle has fled, leaving you all but a quailing child sitting silent before her elders, awaiting the burn of remonstration.

He advances like a soldier upon enemy territory. “Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps my little wife did not just say that that whore of a Queen has been dosing her with moon tea since who fucking knows when. Perhaps I’ve been struck with madness, or I’m hearing things.”

The last time he was this angry with you…

A blast of inappropriate hilarity washes through your mind as you consider it. Does the instance where you had ignored him for days and danced with Lord Serrett at Helaena’s wedding count? He had certainly been rather put out. You are unsure if it matches with the near tangible ferocity contorting his face into something bestial, barely suppressed and weathering severe hollows into his forehead.

He is already cross, you think. I could tell him about the fight with Rhaenyra. You have been meaning to. Now seems as good an occasion as any.

“Daemon—” Your sister jumps in her seat when he barks at her.

“Quiet!” he hisses, rounding back on you.

You discard your notion, deciding to not to bother divulging that particular secret here. Another time, then. No need to send him to his grave early. He is positively apoplectic. It cannot possibly be good for his heart.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “I’m your husband! You don’t answer to Rhaenyra. You answer to me!”

“Excuse me—”

“I wanted to prevent bloodshed,” you say, cutting your sister off. You reach for the arm of the chaise, preparing yourself for the arduous task of rising from such a low surface. You keep your voice soft and light like one who is soothing an agitated stallion. “Kepus—”

He lets out a humourless chuckle, scowling and derisive. Standing in the middle of the room, he makes no move to close in upon you. You think you might prefer it if he would.

“Oh, so you’re protecting her? Excellent.” He laughs again, wild, as though it is a great joke. “She’s murdered how many of our ba—” 

You watch him break off at the end, swallowing convulsively.

“Shit.” His eyes are bright and his teeth grind together beneath closed lips. “I cannot even say the words, and yet you’re defending her? You’d better have—”

“I was not protecting her!”

Grunting, you gratefully accept Rhaenyra’s mutely offered arm of support to hoist yourself up, her other hand pushing against your back. Daemon steps forward, arm outstretched as though to assist you in place of your sister, a rote movement borne from days and weeks of doing the same. It is not needed. The business of getting to your feet winds you for a moment, the uncomfortable bend of your upper half forcing the babes into your lungs and the breath from your body.

“I was protecting us!” You rub your belly with a grimace. “I was protecting you!”

“Protecting me?” He hangs frozen, fingers twitching. A battle rages plain upon his visage. He wars between the need to cosset and the desire to castigate, your loving, hot-tempered dragon of a man.

Sensing a shift in his disposition—or even a fissure through which you may slip through to gentle him with sweet words and a light touch—you make your tentative approach. “I know you,” you say, wincing with each step as the weight pulls low in your spine. It is becoming far too difficult to move about in your current state. “If I had told you when I first found out, you would have slaughtered her.”

“Too fucking right, I would have—”

“Stop. Listen to me.” You lay your palm on his chest. He tenses under the contact, then releases, much larger hand coming up to blanket yours against his body. His chin dips down, eyes closing and brows contracting as though in great pain. “You would have stopped at nothing to take her life in recompense for… for what she has done. You would have killed her. And what then? The Queen dead, and the slayer in close quarters. Papa would have had no choice but to take your head for it.”

You drop your volume low, too low for Rhaenyra to hear, letting bitterness suffuse your hushed tone. “Only a King can kill a Queen, after all.”

It is an old hurt, a terror from so young an age that you had scarcely the words to describe what it was you dreaded.

Mama, whimpers the small, frightened girl locked away in the corner of your mind, snivelling to the echo of dimpled cheeks and crinkled eyes in the barest shape of a woman, a shade of a memory. Is this stabbing pain in my chest what betrayal feels like? Is this how you felt when Father held you down and let them cut you apart? Must I forever wish, hope, pray that he will choose me for once?

You shake your head. This is not the time nor place for such thoughts.

“And I… I would be alone. With child. Forced to contend with the world as a widow not yet twenty summers old. Without you. Without my kepa.” A sharp, plaintive tremor colours your cadence, fear of the picture you paint too real and near to remain impassive. “And do you think Papa would allow his second daughter to remain unmarried with the others wed, even with a womb already full? I was protecting you. I am not sorry for it. I am only sorry that I had not yet had the occasion to tell you myself.”

The world is still as he absorbs what you have said, gaze stormy and troubled and not quite meeting your own. Then, Daemon leans down, presses his forehead to yours, and you believe in this instant that the worst of it is over.

But he bears down harder, and for several moments it is too much, too forceful, and his hand upon your cheek feels less like love and more like punishment, stinging, branding. He shoves himself from you bodily. Taking deep, shuddering breaths, he strides away with his back to you.

“Daemon?”

“I—I cannot,” he says, so low that at first you are unsure if you heard it. He does not turn to meet your stare, just tosses the words over his shoulder like you are someone unimportant, distant and detached.

This is not rage, you realise. This is something else. This is worse.

“We’ll speak later.” With that, he walks to the door, out, footsteps echoing along the hall outside, fainter, fainter, until they are wholly gone.

The first thing you proceed to do after Daemon’s exit is invite Ser Lorent into the room.

You had not expected him to accompany you to Dragonstone, given the self-evident vocation of a Kingsguard to swear himself to the highest man in the Realm. However, he refused to return to his Commander upon discovering Daemon’s intent to take you home, being entirely possessed of the belief that it was his sacred duty to defend those whom the King deems fit. Given that your father had named him your shield in the wake of Ser Alton’s maiming and had not un-named him, it seems he had little desire to forsake this assignation when learning of your impending change in locales.

“Please make sure that my husband is not allowed to take to the skies,” you tell the knight, ignoring the sound of Rhaenyra murmuring your name behind you. “He is not to mount Caraxes today.”

He frowns. “With all due respect, Princess,” he says slowly, “I don’t think I am the one to tell Prince Daemon that—”

You wave him off impatiently. “I am the second-born of King Viserys. He is the brother of the King. Tell me, Ser—which of these is the higher station?”

It is a crass comparison to make, but effective. Ser Lorent’s countenance smooths and he sighs, genuflecting before you in recognition of your case. He offers a cursory farewell and a solemn vow that ‘it will be done’, spinning on heeled boot to march himself off to his task. His golden armour gleams with each movement of limb.

“Sister.” Rhaenyra is insistent.

You turn to her with as patient a countenance as you can muster. She is pallid, carved out to her core, and it plays out in the abrupt weathering of her face, supple-skinned youth mirroring the bone-deep weariness of a thousand summers past. Making your way to her, you decide not to risk sitting on the seat this time. Instead, you lean against the arm of the chair, from which lifting yourself will be a far easier undertaking to perform.

“Alicent is not—the Alicent I knew was not so vile as this,” she says numbly, frozen.

You reach out to lay your palm upon her hunched back, the river of moonlight spilling from her head catching soft between your fingers. Her gaze is far-off, like she is not truly seeing what is before her, instead watching a mirage from another time play out upon the stone floors of your chamber. She lets out a chuckle, but it sounds more like a cough or a sob.

“When I was a girl, all I wanted to do was fly away with her. Far away, where babes and Lords and thrones and kingdoms meant little. I think she would’ve done it if I truly asked it of her. She was my best friend. Sometimes I wonder…” Her voice fizzles like the flame that has burned down to the very last of the wick.

You hush her. “The Alicent you knew is gone. She is not the girl from your childhood, Rhaenyra, not anymore. She… she is something else. Warped.”

“She is the Queen.”

It is all you need to hear to know that she understands in a way so few do.

Power destroys the goodness in people, even those upon whom it is forced. The promise of it had turned Maegor to madness; had made your father a coward content to spurn the needs of his children for the sake of satisfying others; had created a villain of the woman who had once helped you learn your letters from history books. It is slow-eating poison consuming its prey, unseen, unnoticed, until it is far too late and the person it has claimed is no more.

Rhaenyra’s expression changes as she sits up, nostrils flaring and skin tightening around her eyes, flinty and dark.

“For now. Not forever.” You marvel at how something delivered in such hushed volume can sound so much like a proclamation. She looks to you, taking your hands in hers with a rancorous glimmer in her stare. “Lo Sīkudo Dārȳti jemēban, ziry gūrotrir mazemilza. Drīvī aemilā, kese kīvio isān.” When I rule the Seven Kingdoms, she’ll get what she deserves. You will have justice, I swear.

You nod shakily, the tightness in your gut easing. Truthfully, you had been unsure if she would support you after having ignored you for weeks. The attack had served at least one good purpose, you think. It does not bring you much joy to consider for all that has come to light in its wake.

She leaves you with a kiss to the temple and a promise to return to your old routine. “I’ll have dinner relocated to your solar until these two arrive,” she says, stroking your cheeks with her thumbs and glancing down at your belly. “You won’t have to go far, that way. Alright?”

You smile gratefully, acquiescing to her suggestion. Traversing the Keep in your condition just for the sake of a meal hardly seems worth it.

In the silence of your rooms, you contemplate searching for the caps you are stitching to protect the babes’ heads in the cooler weather. They are among the luggage still being brought up from the ship, you remember. Damn.

You ponder upon seeking a tome from your solar next door—within which your ladies are currently installed for the sake of privacy with your sister—but you do not fancy carrying further weight for any measure of distance. Your books are far too heavy for the enterprise to be worth it. Sighing, you shuffle to the bed, always in eager anticipation of a nap to replenish the energy the twins sap for themselves.

Awakening an indeterminate amount of time later, you are bleary and fatigued, gown damp and back aching and stomach rumbling. Thankfully, your ladies seem to have ventured back into your rooms during your slumber.

“How long until the evening meal?” you ask through a yawn, using both arms to push yourself upright and bracing yourself for the rush of blood spotting your vision. You refocus a moment later upon the pair seated by the hearth, the fire lit and crackling merrily behind them.

They both startle lightly at the abruptness of your waking. “There are—some hours yet, Princess,” Jeyne says nervously, eyes darting between you and Bethany.

I make her nervous, you realise. You do not wish to contend with fearful companions. Smiling, you try to settle her, though the learning of such unfortunate news as having to wait so long brings tears to your eyes. You are starved.

She begins to stammer at the sight. “If—If you’d like, I can ask for the kitchens to prepare you something small?”

“That would be lovely, Jeyne,” you say, sure that the trails spilling down your cheeks coupled with the wide-set gleam of your teeth has only served to further frighten her. You must seem positively deranged.

You try to distract from the picture you make by requesting scones spread thick with honey and raspberry conserve, a staple in your diet as of late. The longing that arises at very thought of it speeds the trajectory of the moisture sliding down your face. You hurry to ensure she passes on a further request for honey-glazed goat with mashed turnips for supper.

I may just sprout black-and-yellow fuzz at this rate, you muse. You almost consider asking for a jar of honey to be brought with a spoon to consume by itself—but you are certain the imbibing of so much sweetness will only send you rushing to heave into a basin.

As Jeyne speeds off to fulfil the task you have set her, you turn to Bethany and petition her to arrange for a bath to be brought in. The relief at having something to do other than make stilted conversation with her new mistress appears to relax her greatly. She quite happily consents, placing her book of prayers upon her empty seat to make the necessary enquiries.

Soon enough, you are cleansed and steeped in warm water laced with milk and rose oil, leaning happily over the side of the tub to partake in the buttery desert. Your ladies leave you in peace after helping you into the bath before the hearth and scrubbing you down with soap, and so you are able to enjoy the simple joy of it without unfamiliar company to encumber you.

The scent of flowers and berries and floured goods swirl together in a haze of saccharine richness, calming you greatly and easing the last of your worries. Daemon could burst in this very moment and scream loud enough to be heard in the capital, and I do not think I would care overmuch.

You ought not to have.

“Looking rather pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

Eyes widening as you slosh about to face your uncle, you brace yourself for the fulfilment of your most recent deliberations. Instead, your gaze alights on his form leaning against the wall, relaxed in a manner that contradicts your suppositions. His lips curve at the display you make, crumbs strewn across the small table beside the bath and collected in the corner of your mouth. The smile does not reach his eyes.

“I was hungry,” you say by way of explanation. “And sore.”

“Hm.” Daemon pushes himself forward, sauntering over at an unhurried pace. You watch him cautiously, attempting to gauge his mood through the mask of inscrutability. He reaches forward to—

“Hey!” You squawk in outrage as he swipes the last of your scones from the plate and lifts it to his lips, hand darting up to try and snatch it back.

“Ah-ah.” He holds it up and out of your grasp. “Consider this payment for being barred from riding my own dragon this afternoon. Care to explain that?” His brow raises even as he stuffs the treat into his mouth, chewing smugly while you flail with indignation.

You pout up at him. “I was worried you would… fly to King’s Landing,” you say, scowling. To murder Alicent Hightower. The implication hangs heavy in the beat of silence after your sentence.

“I thought about it.” Sucking the remnants of conserve from his thumb with obnoxious emphasis, he keeps his tone light, though it is belied by the piercing intensity of his stare. “I wasn’t able to actually do anything, though, thanks to you.”

“Good.” That scone was mine. You sigh, resting your chin upon your hands over the rim of the tub. “I know you are angry—”

“Angry doesn’t even begin to cover it.” That performative gaiety in his voice persists, carrying with it the threat of heated censure should you misstep and say the wrong thing.

You swallow, measuring your words carefully as you grip onto his hand. “I know.” You are encouraged when his fingers fold over yours. Despite the severity reflected in his eyes and the hard line of his lips, his touch is soft. “But you cannot touch her while she is Queen. When Father dies, Rhaenyra will rule, and then we can ensure that she will pay. Justice shall prevail, Daemon—when the time is right. Leave her be. Please?”

His hold tightens and he lets out a harsh breath, wrinkles forming between his brow as they contract. Peering up at him through your lashes, you wait. Then, a minute dip of his chin, a barely-there jerk of assent.

He does not like it, but he agrees.

“You shouldn’t have kept it from me.” There is no utterance of acquiescence. You had not expected it. His voice is low, cross, vibrating through your joined flesh, and the pale hairs on your arms stand upright at the sensation. “I shouldn’t have had to eavesdrop on you to learn something this important.”

“I know. I am sorry,” you whisper.

He grunts. “I know you are.”

“I will be truthful from now on.”

“Good.”

“And you will stop running from me each time we argue.”

At this, he frowns. “I don’t—”

“You do,” you say firmly. “You get upset and walk out, and I have to sit about wondering where you are, if you are well, when or even if you intend on returning. I worry.”

Daemon glances toward the fire pensively, clasp slackening around your hand. When his gaze returns to yours, it is serious, violet so deep that it is like lifting your head to look up at the night sky, profound and unknowable. “I’ll try,” he murmurs, palm ghosting over your cheek, callouses scratching comfortingly. “For you.”

You allow the corners of your mouth to turn upward, cupping his hand with both of yours and turning your head to press your lips to his skin. He smells warm, like the salt-smoke of the isle and something earthy, wild. He smells like home.

You startle when he pulls away to fumble with the buttons on his doublet. “What are you doing?” you ask blankly.

“What does it look like?” Grinning, he tosses first his outerwear and then his undershirt to the floor. He kicks his boots off haphazardly, a movement so thoroughly ungainly that you cannot help but laugh as he stumbles a pace or two. He wiggles his brows, gesturing at you. “You’ve a large bath there. It so happens I’m in need of one, too.”

You hesitate, glancing down at the opaque water, beneath which is your body thick with the weight of carrying two babes and scrawled dark with the evidence of skin forced to stretch too quickly. You do not feel attractive right now. “But—”

“But what? Are you in pain?” He stops for a moment with breeches at his knees, concerned,  shaft half-plumped between his legs and ruddy with the rush of blood attending to its rise.

“No, I just—I am not at my most… inviting, currently.”

“What utter shit.” When he shucks off the rest of his clothing and bares his undressed form proudly, you bite your lip at the view, at wide shoulders and corded arms and firm thighs, skin swirled with old burns like a brand of savagery. He makes toward you. “Go on, there—there we go, sweetling. Ah”—he readjusts you to his liking, settling in before you—“not your usual temperature.”

“I cannot have it hotter.” You grumble as he tugs you to him, tilting you to the side so he can press his face to your bared neck. “The babes.”

“Yes, don’t want to roast the little dragons,” he says, greedily caressing your belly below the water. His nose drags across your jaw. “Mm, you’re soft. Smell good.”

You shiver. “Daemon—”

“Nervous thing tonight, aren’t you? A silly little girl with silly little thoughts.”

He chuckles, mocking and mean, grasping at your wrist and drawing you down, down. His tongue laves a line up your throat even as he coaxes your fingers around his cock, using you to bring himself to full mast.

“Feel that? Fuck. Keep fucking going.” His forehead presses to your temple, his length twitching in your grasp, iron, steel. “Doesn’t feel like someone repulsed, does it?”

“No.” Your eyes water, mortified and desperately aching. Why would I doubt him? Why is he not touching me ? Your breath comes quick like a rabbit’s, puffed little exhales, frantic with desire.

“No,” he says, roughly cupping and squeezing your breasts. You cry out, nipples tingling with a strange heaviness that you are unsure if painful or pleasurable. “Up”—he is already hoisting you by the waist—“show me your tits. There’s a girl.”

You gasp, scrabbling at his hair with your free hand as he dips down to swirl his tongue around a nipple, sweep the flat of it across your flesh, fix his lips over you and suck, hard pulls that shoot straight to your gut, pulsing. It feels good. It hurts. There is a tension climbing, climbing—

“Uh!” A foreign release clenches in your cunny and in your chest, not a climax but something intuitive, primordial, extending from your breast and radiating inward to the very heart of you.

Daemon pulls away with a noise of surprise. “How long has this been happening?” he asks lowly, quivering against you as though poised to strike, wild and barely restrained.

Glancing down perplexed, you spy the moisture collected in the corner of his mouth. You wonder why he has reacted so to the taste of the bathwater until you see the beads of gold-cream collected thickly right at your nipple, too dark to possibly be anything but mother’s milk.

It is too early, you think, but in the same token you are also thinking my gowns, the stickiness on my gowns is from this, from my body preparing the way for the babes to come.

“I—I do not know, I—”

His cock lurches in your hand as he leans back down to collect the slow amber trickle from your skin, shuddering full-formed at the pooling of it on his palate. He mouths leisurely, covetously at you, tongue-tip tracing and prodding droplets from the hard peak. Your untouched breast hangs impossibly heavy, throbbing.

“If you taste like this now”—his lips scarcely leave your flesh to shape the words—“I’m hiring a fucking regiment of wet-nurses. They can feed the babes. This’ll be for me.”

You can do naught but keen as he returns to his task, taking great pulls to eke out the scant fluid. Each suck throbs molten in your core, as though someone has seized your pearl between thumb and finger and yanks in tandem with Daemon’s avaricious swallows. His insistent fondling and gusty snuffles and obscene slurps ratchet you beyond the point of speech, feeling so much more than you recall.

He draws back with a slick pop, mouth as rosy and glistening as your flushing chest. “Gods, you’re sweet all over, aren’t you? I don’t know which I prefer to sup from—your tits or your cunt.” His voice is slurred, prompting memories of little Joff each time Rhaenyra had removed him drowsed and milk drunk from her own breast. Daemon looks the same now, eyes drooping and dazed as he stares up at you. His knee pushes between your thighs and knocks your grip away from his shaft, hands angling you to seat yourself firmly over him. “There. Ride my leg like the fucking slut you are. Go on.”

You squirm in his hold, lips parting shakily as he proffers one final wet kiss to your cherry-tip nipple and abruptly switches tack, latching onto the other with a wordless growl. That same sensation akin to the bursting of a bubble radiates through your skin. The renewed greed in his nursing drags tells you that he has lured forth a fresh supply.

With a tremulous whimper, you brace yourself against his arms and slide your core over him, rutting mindlessly and allowing instinct to take over as the sparks coil hotter inside you. The wiry hairs on his flesh rasp against your bud like whetstone across a blade, a pure unadulterated sting that somersaults, swooping, between throbbingpoundingpleaseneverstop and something darker, a bite of agony that feeds into the mounting end. You slide, sticky, viscous, too thick to be water alone, helpless vocalisations escaping as you coat him in your wet. The bathwater splashes about with every movement, spilling over the edges of the tub and onto the floor.

“Kepus!”

Your entrance tightens and your belly tautens, convulsing and contracting with the intensity of a powerful crest, eliciting a roiling heat in your breasts and thighs and cunny. His eyes flick up to yours and dance roguishly in the firelight, his leg bouncing into your pearl so that you can ride out the waves of ecstasy.

Daemon’s teeth graze over your nipple as he pulls away, crowding you back against the edge of the tub as he stands swiftly, sending bathwater careening wildly and swilling over the sides with a slick splatter. He drags you up by your braided hair, giving you clear access to the sight of his hand stripping frantically at his cock.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he snaps, crouching slightly to dig his thumb into your mouth and force your jaw wide. He leers down at you with teeth bared, the head of his shaft burbling pearly white that he spreads across your open lips. “I’ve got my own milk to feed you with. No point dirtying the water when I’ve got a perfectly good hole to spend in right here, hm?”

You beam, rising up on your knees and batting his hand away so that you can take hold of his manhood, welcoming the familiar heft of it with a firm pump and glide of lips along the vein running underside. From the way it tremors at your touch, a flower reaching desperately for the sun, he is not long to finish.

“Uh-huh.” You stick out your tongue and feed him into your mouth, wiggling happily into his groin as far as you are able. It is only when you gag hard enough to incite nausea that you withdraw, taking a breath even as you tongue the stray droplets of seed from the tip, hot and bitter. “‘M all for you. All my holes—they’re all yours.”

He grunts, fingers twisting in your hair tight enough to hurt and cock spasming between your lips. “Fuck!”

You smile, fisting vigorously at the base and suckling over the head in draughts that mimic his earlier movements at your breast, moaning with delight as the syrupy astringence pumps onto your tongue in thick spurts. Daemon’s head tips back above you, eyes closing and hips juddering into your face reflexively. You swallow it all, obedient and eternally eager to please.

“Fuck,” he repeats emphatically, loosening his grip and nearly wheezing, winded and depleted.

You laugh. He hisses as the vibrations travel through his sensitive flesh, extracting himself with a weak groan. Flopping back into the tub with a huff, he seems to care little for the amount of water he has wasted in his endeavours.

“The bath is half-emptied now,” you say, pressing your lips together to stave off the grin that tries to overtake your expression.

Daemon snorts, folding you against his chest like a child cradled by her father. He is firm and warm beneath you, so warm that the water seems cold by comparison, and you rub your cheek over his skin in contentment. “You’ll live,” he murmurs drolly, petting your belly once more. Mercifully, the babes are still.

“I have half a mind to get out and leave you here in this half-empty bath,” you tell him, softening the blow of your snobbish tone with a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He smiles, angling his head to capture your lips more fully, tongue stroking against yours and blending the flavours of his seed and your milk in a strange, sweet-tart amalgamation. “Stay,” he whispers into you, breath mingling with your own. His eyes shine, soft and affectionate in a manner he allows so few to see. “For a little longer, at least.”

When he looks upon you like this—like you are a god incarnate, like you are a miracle brought to life, like you are everything he has ever wanted in all the world—you are hard-pressed to refuse him.

“Very well,” you say, your hand joining his over the place where your family grows. “I will stay.”

Read it on AO3: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44058132/chapters/116372530

Taglist (😭 thank you!):

Now in the comments!

[haerius]

OKAY SO FOR AIKI MIYA AND KIYOSHI HERE IS WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE,

aiki is the eldest daughter! her vision is cryo, she wields a catalyst and she's also the most artistically creative out of all of them! her birthday is on april 04, she's 5'6 (just like me), goes by she/her, and is frequently called by the nicknames ai or aki!! fun fact: sometimes she gets mistaken for a younger version of me when people approach her from the back dkdhjdjskjsjs next is miyaki, the middle child (and favorite of ayato smh/lh)! her vision is pyro, she wields a polearm and she's the most intellectually inclined out of all of them! her birthday is on august 07, she's 5'4, goes by she/her as well, and is frequently called the nickname miya!! fun fact: she absolutely adores food and her favorite dish is chazuke like her aunt ayaka!! now last but certainly not the least is kiyoshi, the youngest and only son! his vision is hydro (just like his father cries/j), he wields a bow and he's a mix of creative, intelligent, and uninterested djdhjfjdj. his birthday is on october 21, he's 5'7, goes by he/him, and is frequently called the nicknames kyo, yoshi, and kiyo!! fun fact: most people think he's angry all the time because he wears a face similar to a scowl (but he's just bored dw he won't kill you as long as you don't mess with his family and friends <3)!! @floraldresvi teehee <33

pspspspps,,, @floraldresvi may i introduce you to my lovely children - hera and leo (twins w gepard) and aiki, miya, and kiyoshi (triplets w ayato) ?