#one piece daemon au

[setaripendragon]

One Piece Daemon AU - Sanji

So yeah, this is why I was thinking so much about daemons. I wasn't actually planning to write anything in this 'verse, I just wanted to think about what everyone's daemons would be, but then I started thinking abbout how and when they settled, and I thought about Sanji and all his trauma and I thought 'huh, okay, how would having a daemon make it worse?' And then I wrote this.

Ever since Sanji can remember, he’s always been weaker than his brothers. At this point, it’s not a surprise, but it never stops hurting. He can’t run as far or as fast as they do, he can’t take a hit like they do, he can’t fight as well or for as long as they do. He can’t send his daemon as far away as they can.

Every day, Father makes them practice. Every day, Ichiju, Niju, and Yonju diseappear over the horizon as birds or fish or flying insects. Every day, Sanji throws himself into the ocean after Sanju before she’s even reached the next snail-ship.

And every day, he lasts a few seconds less before the pain becomes unbearable.

He cries to Mama about it often. She clucks her tongue at him and wipes his tears from his cheeks with her thumbs, and then pinches his cheeks with a smile. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” she tells him firmly.

“But,” Sanji sniffles, “everyone else can do it. Even you.” He knows this because Voltaire often comes to sit with him when he’s hiding in his room, and maybe it’s not over-the-horizon far from Mama’s room in the infirmary, but it’s still all the way on the other side of the flagship, and Sanji and Sanju can’t manage even a fraction of that.

For a moment, Mama’s smile takes on a strangely sharp edge. “I didn’t used to,” she tells him softly.

“Besides,” Voltaire adds, voice gone wicked as he eels up Sora’s arm so he can stage-whisper into Sanji’s ear, “have you ever seen Legata go all that far from Judge’s side?” Sanji twists his head around to stare at him, utterly agog at the notion that Judge might be anything less than terrifyingly capable at anything and everything. Voltaire just cocks his head in challenge, mottled dark brown skin glistening under the harsh lights of the infirmary.

“Of course Father can do it!” Sanju protests, daring to uncurl from the little ball of pale pink shell she’s made of herself in Sanji’s lap.

“Whether he can or not,” Mama says, reaching up to smooth Sanji’s hair down and trying to tuck his fringe behind his ear, “doesn’t mean you have to. You’re perfect just as you are, baby.” His hair falls back in front of his eye, and he puffs a little laugh that makes Mama grin at him.

Sanji’s smile falls, though, the moment of humour not enough to distract him from his worries. “We keep getting worse, though,” he complains.

Mama closes her eyes, takes a breath, and then leans in and kisses Sanji on the top of his head, before bundling him up and onto her lap. Sanju squeaks and turns into a squirrel to scramble up Sanji’s shirt and onto his shoulder, to avoid any risk of getting squashed between them. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to keep your heart close,” she tells him, cuddling him aggressively, “all snug and safe, like this!”

Sanji laughs outright, and hugs her back as best he can.

---

He remembers her words, later, when he’s on that godforsaken rock. He and Sanju try again, to get more than a handful of feet away from each other, to reach the ocean, to find food. They don’t manage. He lies there on the barren rock with Sanju a quivering bundle of fur in his arms, sobbing with a desperation that still hasn’t managed to overcome the vice that clamps down around his chest any time she gets too far away from him.

His mother was wrong. She was wrong, he’s weak, and he’s going to die because he’s too needy and pathetic, just like Father said. “I don’t want to,” Sanju cries into his chest, butting her head up against his chin and whimpering. “Don’t make me, I don’t want to-!”

“We won’t,” Sanji says, determinedly. “There’s somewhere else we can get food around here.”

Except there isn’t. All he finds on the other side of the island is a bag of things he can’t eat and an old man who ate his own leg because he’d already given Sanji all the food. Sanji, who’d been willing to take even more food from him, just to feed himself.

The horror is almost entirely self-directed.

He goes back to his side of the island and thinks. His father was wrong. It isn’t just that Sanji isn’t capable of being what his father wanted, but he doesn’t want to be the sort of person who would hurt other people and take what they have just because he wants it. He doesn’t like the person hunger turns him into.

But that doesn’t mean Mama was right. Being weak and needy and depending on other’s kindness without giving anything back is just as selfish as taking things they didn’t offer. Sometimes, there is something wrong with keeping your heart close, when tearing off a piece of yourself can save someone else.

He looks at Sanju, and Sanju looks back, long ears twitching. “Okay,” she says quietly, and turns to the edge of the island again. She bounds off the edge, shifting into a mottled black and grey bird with a hooked beak as she goes.

It twinges in his chest almost immediately after she drops out of sight. Lurches, clenches, aches. He grits his teeth, screws his eyes shut, clenches his fists against the rock, and holds himself tense and still as it strains and hurts and tears. They can do this. They can.

It’s not as hard as cutting his own leg off.

A whimper slips out of his throat despite his best efforts.

Then a sob.

A cry.

A scream.

He thinks, if he’d had anything at all in his stomach, he’d have thrown up. His throat is convulsing like it’s thinking about trying anyway. There are hands on him, grabbing him roughly, shaking him, and Sanji’s in too much pain to think rationally. He cries and begs and apologises again and again. He’ll do better next time, he will, he promises! It hurts but he can put up with it, he can be strong, he can.

The hands turn gentle.

The pain fades.

The person holding him gasps.

Sanji picks up his head from a very bony shoulder, and sees Sanju perched awkwardly on one of the strange lumpy rocks that litter this island, a thin little silver fish clasped in her beak. She hops closer, and drops it on the stone beside the old man’s severed leg, where it wiggles uselessly in its death throes.

“Fucking hell, kid,” the old man grumbles, but he takes the fish.

And then tears it in half and offers one half to Sanji!

Sanji is too hungry to refuse, but it steels his resolve – their resolve – and Sanju takes flight again, diving back down to the ocean. It hurts just as bad as the first time, and Sanji only avoids throwing the fish right back up again by sheer desperation. And maybe, a little bit, because the old man holds him tucked against his bony ribcage and lets him sob into his shoulder without a word of complaint

In fact, his daemon leans over his shoulder and huffs at Sanji’s head with enough force that it ruffles his hair and almost feels like a caress. She’s so big, and even as worn thin as she is, with her person so close to death, she still radiates warmth. Sanji doesn’t know if it’s real warmth or soul-warmth, but either way, it doesn’t matter. Especially not when she’s crooning comforting nonsense and unfamiliar lullabies at him in her low, rich voice. It sounds nothing like Mama, but it reminds him of her a little bit anyway.

---

They find their feet at the Baratie. They find a purpose that fits them, that they can achieve, and while he’s a demanding teacher, Zeff never asks more of them than they can give. It’s freeing in a way Sanji has never known before, and Sanju takes to trying bigger and bigger shapes with bright-eyed mischief. Or sometimes, with teeth-bared snarling, when the customers decide to be assholes. Sanji is well past the days that he’d take that kind of shit lying down. No, these days he snarls back, and kicks heads in when the snarling doesn’t warn the bastards off, just like Zeff taught him.

These days, though, most daemons will cower in front of Sanju’s bared teeth, whether she’s a wolf or a lioness or a bear, and their people will back away from a teenager with a daemon that big. Sanji almost mourns those opportunities to start a fight, but he supposes Zeff must appreciate the lack of repair bills.

When they head back into the kitchen, Sanju usually turns back into something small, just to keep out of the way of the bustling and busy cooks. Or, at least, smaller. Neither of them are all that comfortable making themselves too small anymore; it leaves an unpleasant taste on the back of their tongue. Lately she’s been draping herself over his shoulders as some kind of rosetted cat.

So when she doesn’t leap up onto his back as they shove through the doors into the kitchen, a napkin pressed to the gash a customer managed to open up across his cheek, Sanji notices. When she dodges out of the way of a hollering Carne instead of changing to something smaller, she notices, too. They pause to stare at each other.

She’s still a cat, large and lithe and elegant, covered in spots, with a dark mantle over her neck and shoulders that turns into three dark stripes down along her spine. There are two dark tear-trails either side of her muzzle, too, and she blinks large amber eyes up at him. Sanji can’t help but smile, because she’s beautiful. A purr rumbles up in her throat, and she head-butts him in the stomach, letting him card his fingers into the lengthening fur at the back of her neck.

It feels… oddly vindicating, that she’s settled into such a fierce daemon, even if a part of him wishes he didn’t care about that anymore. All his childhood, everyone except his mother had mocked and scorned the way Sanju prefered smaller forms, and now look at her.

Not everyone else is as happy as they are at her settled form, however. It only takes a few days for it to become an issue.

“Get your fucking daemon out of the way!” Patty shrieks, sprawled out across a counter in his efforts to save the tray he was carrying when he stumbled trying not to trip directly over Sanju. She’s pressed flat against the back of Sanji’s legs, hissing back at Patty.

“She was out of the way!” Sanji snaps back, hands not pausing in their work chopping up a whole pile of vegetables. “Don’t blame her because you weren’t looking where you were fucking going!”

“I shouldn’t have to be keeping an eye out for rogue daemons! She should be in the cubby with all the other large daemons!” Patty scolds, shaking a fist at Sanji, who recoils, knife stilling.

He’s not wrong, is the thing. The kitchen would be utterly unfunctional if everyone with a large daemon let them dog their heels the way Sanju does Sanji’s. So Zeff – admittedly one of the worst cases, Sulia is huge– had a side room built just off the kitchen to allow the daemons to stay near enough to their people without getting underfoot in the kitchen.

Sanji looks over at the open archway, where he can see Sulia’s tail fwaping irritably at the floor. It’s a good twenty feet away from the far side of the kitchen, and that’s… too far. Sanji can feel all his muscles winding tight just at the thought. Sanju presses even more firmly into his legs, and he looks down at her, swallowing. They should-

“Patty! If that soup goes cold because you were lollygagging, I’ll kick you overbaord!” Zeff roars, and Patty yelps and hurries off. Sanji goes back to his own chopping, not sure how he’s feeling, because he’s pretty sure the fact that Patty got scolded but he didn’t was Zeff’s way of coming down on Sanji’s side of that little argument, but he still feels like he shouldn’t be getting away with breaking the rules of the kitchen like that, when he could-

A peg-leg connects solidly with his hip, and he yelps out a startled curse. “Don’t even think about it, Li’l Eggplant,” Zeff growls as he stomps past, directing a glower down at Sanju, too. “I’ll have Sulia chase you out if you set one paw in that cubby, and she’s still bigger than you are.”

“Fine,” Sanji grouses, feigning irritation as if they both can’t hear Sanju purring up a storm.

For those who're interested, the daemons are: Sanji - King Cheetah Sora - Great Crested Newt Zeff - Pacific Walrus

[autisticaboutstufflol]

Writing my sabolaw daemon au fic,,,,, evilly rubs my hands together I love writing idiots falling in love while being oblivious,,,,

I LOVE GAY PEOPLE IT WILL BE PUBLISHED DURING PRIDE MONTH OR YOU CAN LEGALLY ATTACK ME I SWEAR

[mithrilwren]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Word Count: 11,322 Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Sanji Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials Fusion, Developing Relationship, Roronoa Zoro and Sanji Bickering, Misunderstandings, Consensual Daemon Touching, Whole Cake Island Arc Spoilers, Childhood Trauma, mentions of past daemon/animal harm, Protective Roronoa Zoro, Protective Sanji (One Piece), Trust Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending

Sanji and Zoro don’t get along. Their daemons, Sanji is disturbed to discover, do.

My gift for @akwolfgrl for the One Piece Secret Santa 2024 (@op-secret-santa) exchange! I ended up going with ‘Daemon AU’ from your list of favourite tropes, but I also took a little inspiration from your second wish (about a small, cute creature stealing from Sanji’s pantry). I really hope you like it!

[lewiscarrolatemybrain]

I think when you eat a devil fruit it doesn’t sever you from your daemon or anything like that but it does stretch the distance you can travel from each other and also, more importantly, the daemon also gains the devil fruit power

I also think Ace’s daemon is a bird of some kind? Probably a crow. Which of course means that Ace is followed around by a crow that occasionally just catches on fire.

I also also think there’s a running gag among the Whitebeards where any time the crow is on fire the crew will pretend to mistake the crow for Marco

Marco is the only one not amused

[theshittymarimo]

Dreams and Daemons

Chapter 1: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji Fandom: One Piece Summary: Introduction of Meggy, Sora and Mimi. Words: 1 851 Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Monkey D. Luffy - MEGGY, Ring-tailed Lemur

"Family, Play, Happiness. Lemur people are very focused on family and friends, food, tradition, and enjoying the simpler things in life. They tend to be charismatic, unique, spirited individuals. They also have a great sense of fun and are often considered eccentric, living in their own world (and happily so)." - “Dæmons Unveiled: Navigating the Bonds of this World”, Filipe Haulman

Initially, Zoro had spotted the black-haired boy from atop the wall and attempted to scare him off. However, the situation took an unexpected turn when the little girl from the town came back, and the idiot son of a navy officer stomped on the first food Zoro had seen in a long while before callously ordering the girl to be thrown over the wall. Zoro found himself silently hoping that she was all right when he noticed the boy from earlier now standing in front of him, and this time he saw his daemon. The first thing to catch Zoro’s attention was the long black and white striped tail wrapped around the boy’s stomach and neck. For a moment, he mistook it for a snake, but swiftly realized his mistake as a small face with golden eyes, framed by black fur, emerged just centimetres from his own. Zoro had never seen such an animal, nor a daemon. A deamon who seemed to ignore all societal norms by climbing onto his shoulders, sniffing curiously at the ropes binding his arms to the cross. “Oi!” Zoro’s daemon, Sora, growled indignantly and with surprise from beside him as the unfamiliar daemon touched Zoro. Despite the almost paralyzing hunger they both felt, Sora stood up but hesitated – technically, Zoro wasn’t touching the daemon; the daemon was touching him. But such a thing was unheard of. The boy in front of them laughed happily, looking relaxed with his arms crossed. “They say you’re a bad guy”, the unfamiliar daemon suddenly spoke to him from her perch on his arm. Zoro looked at the daemon disbelievingly, who tilted her head slightly when he didn’t respond. “… You still here?” Zoro redirected his attention to the boy; he wasn’t comfortable talking with someone else’s daemon. He could almost hear the daemon pout next to his ear. There was something strange about the boy, and not just his daemon, who later introduced themselves as Luffy and Meggy. Zoro wasn’t usually the one for conversation, even among those he might possibly call friends. Yet, Luffy managed to coax Zoro into sharing his dream, much to Sora’s surprise, as Zoro found himself speaking more than he had in a long time. Luffy didn’t laugh at him; instead, his daemon, Meggy, seemed to shiver with excitement. However, Luffy did blackmail Zoro into joining his crew with Zoro’s own katanas, which Luffy had gotten from the base. It was ridiculous - a grinning boy, probably younger than him, with his strange black and white daemon perched atop his hat. Yet, when Zoro threatened that he would make him commit seppuku if he ever got into his way, Luffy just grinned and said he expected no less. Zoro could feel a kindred spirit in that grin and smirked back. Though he hadn’t anticipated Luffy being made of rubber. Nevertheless, he seemed strong, Zoro noted as he observed his new captain fight Morgan. If you could even call it a fight as he was clearly stronger than the marine. “She’s fighting too”, Sora murmured to him. Zoro blinked down at her in surprise, then looked up to see what she meant. Normally, daemons only fought each other, and stayed out of the human’s fights to avoid touching other people. But Meggy was darting around, distracting Morgan and using her tail to unbalance him despite the marine’s daemon chasing after her, touching him without reservation. There was something very strange about them. Later, at the restaurant in town, after Zoro had finally eaten his fill (though Luffy still managed to eat more than him), he got to know what kind of animal Meggy was. She was a ring-tailed lemur, some strange sort of monkey, or so they claimed. Despite his skepticism, Sora insisted it must be real, as Meggy was living proof.

Roronoa Zoro - SORA, Bengal tiger

"Independence, strength, beauty. Tiger people tend to be confident, powerful people that need space, enjoy solitude, and revere silence. Tiger medicine teaches ferocity, passion, sensuality, and physical grounding. The tiger is a symbol of power, physical strength, and indulgence."      - “Dæmons Unveiled: Navigating the Bonds of this World”, Filipe Haulman  

Chopper had to admit that the one he feared most on the ship was Zoro and his daemon. Chopper was still new to the crew and didn’t have a daemon. He never had one, probably because he was a reindeer from the beginning; it was the one thing the devil fruit hadn’t been able to give him. However, the daemons on the crew were so friendly and kind to him, accepting him like he was one of them, even though he wasn’t a daemon. So, he felt very close and similar to them. But Sora was just terrifying - those huge teeth and sharp claws made him shudder at the mere thought of them. Though he hadn’t seen her in action yet, she and Zoro mostly seemed to lay around and sleep. But a tiger was a dangerous animal; he had read about them, very powerful and independent. Still … he was on Luffy’s crew; that had to mean something. Chopper peeked over his shoulder and saw Zoro leaning back on Sora, both of them sleeping on the deck. Suddenly, Sora yawned, showing all those large canines, which looked very dangerous. Chopper gulped. “You looking at Zoro?” Luffy’s voice suddenly spoke up from behind him, making him jump. “Or wait, is it Sora?” “Ah, no, I mean, yes”, Chopper stumbled over his words. Though Luffy and Meggy had been incredibly kind to him, he didn’t want to make a mistake. “She just looks so… And Zoro is …” “Scary?” Meggy grinned, while Luffy looked confused that anyone could ever think that. “Don’t worry, they’re big softies!” If they said so… But still, Chopper couldn’t quite believe it. Until they were in Alabasta, walking in the desert. Chopper was nearly dying, or at least it certainly felt like it, from the heat. The other daemons must have felt the same; Meggy had been collapsed on Luffy’s back for a long while after the first excitement, but Chopper had checked that she was still breathing. When Chopper wasn’t able to walk anymore, he suddenly felt someone grab the back of his clothes and lift him up. He almost yelped, but when he looked up, he barely managed to keep the sound in. Sora was holding him in her mouth; it must’ve been heavy. But she held him and walked up to Zoro, who looked down and grunted before taking over and helping Chopper. Chopper hadn’t even needed to say a word, and surely Sora needed Zoro’s help more - after all, no one else could touch and help her. “Are you sure..?” Chopper mumbled in embarrassment as Sora walked next to them. “What?” Sora said, a bit annoyed, but Chopper guessed they were all a bit annoyed because of the heat. “Don’t be dumb. I’m fine.” Chopper glanced at her and saw that she was panting, her long tongue lolling out. She didn’t look very fine and would probably not like to know how much she looked like Luffy in that moment. Chopper managed to keep in the giggle only because it was too hot to giggle. He felt a lot more comfortable with them after that.

Sanji - MIMI, Mountain goat

"Fearlessness, high ambitions, curiosity, intuition. Sensuality, determination, health and vitality. Goats have a reputation for having great dignity and composed behavior. Goat people are good at maintaining their balance. Whether climbing a narrow mountain ledge of challenges or walking a calm wooded path, they have sure-footed determination. They take life one moment, one step at a time. As a Goat person they instinctively know when and whom to trust. Even when the ground may look very uncertain or dangerous, they proceed cautiously, yet confidently." - “Dæmons Unveiled: Navigating the Bonds of this World”, Filipe Haulman

During Sanji’s childhood, his daemon had been just another failure to his family. His siblings’ daemons had already achieved their final forms from a young age. But Sanji’s daemon, Mimi, kept changing. Most of the time, she preferred to take the form of a mouse so she could hide in one of his pockets. A mouse. His father called it useless. Sometimes she changed into the bird his mother’s daemon was, but mostly she remained something small so she could run and hide from his brothers’ daemons, who liked to pick on her just as his brothers did to him. Sanji sometimes felt jealous of her; he wanted to be able hide too. However, when they ran away from home, Mimi slowly started to take on bigger forms as they grew more comfortable. Though the mouse shape came in handy during their weeks on the island. A mouse didn’t need a lot of food. It wasn’t until the late teenage years that Mimi finally found her final form. It was a bit embarrassing. Zeff’s daemon was a brown-red goat, and lately Mimi had become fond of taking the shape of a large white goat. The other chefs teased Sanji relentlessly, claiming he wanted to be like Zeff since they were both goat people. Sanji found them annoying, and one day during a long stint of washing the dishes and enduring their teasing and laughter, he asked Mimi if she could change into something else. “No?” Mimi looked at him with a confused look in her comforting golden eyes. “Just for the moment, please?” Sanji hissed lowly so the others wouldn’t hear him. “But I can’t change”, Mimi stated plainly and sat down on her bum, she looked ridiculous. “I haven’t been able to for a while.” Sanji blinked, and the kitchen suddenly fell silent as the others had heard her too. They all stared at the goat daemon, who sat there looking as if it wasn’t something special. “You what?!” The kitchen suddenly exploded into laughter. Sanji asked her why she hadn’t told him earlier, and she answered that she thought he had noticed. If he wasn’t so hell-bent on not kicking ladies, he would’ve kicked her then and there. The teasing didn’t get any better; the others even baked a cake in the shape of a white goat. Sanji would deny forever that he felt a bit warm from that cake. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that someone would celebrate that. Zeff just huffed.

Notes: I knew that I wanted to give Luffy a monkey. I wanted it to be a happy smaller monkey and at first I thought of a squirrel monkey. But soon I recalled the ring-tailed lemur, so I looked up some symbolism behind the animal and it was perfect for Luffy. That's all he love; food, his family and crew, and having fun. The name Meggy come from I wanted to have a similar short simple name as Luffy, ending in y, for her. Zoro have been a tiger since the start, classic but yet so right. I wanted her to have a short similar sounding name to Zoro, and I could only find Sora that satisfied me. I realized later that Sanji's mom had that name. But let's say that there was a couple of uncomfortable weeks there in the beginning before Sanji got used to her name. Sanji's mountain goat is also an animal that I had for him from the start. I wanted her to be female and have horns, so I was specific in the search for a goat that had horns. His "family" had a tradition of letting the children give their daemons their names when they found their final forms, Sanji's brothers all gave their daemons harsh masculine names. Sanji was a "late bloomer" and called his daemon the name Mimi, a cute-sy name, that was supposed to be temporary. But in the end Mimi liked her name and Sanji didn't feel it was right to change it. Fun fact: Sanji and Mimi's party trick is when Sanji straighten up one leg into the air, and Mimi jumps up to stand on the sole of his shoe. Sanji loves to impress the ladies and Mimi loves to show off.

[mermaidslabyrinth]

WIP (Not) Wednesday

A big thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for tagging me.

I am literally in the middle of writing a little one shot for next month's 'sick fic(s)' challenge (mostly I'm challenging myself). I wrote one earlier and this is like a part 2 to that one.

Rhagerys had been ushered into his bedchambers by his father and had been directed by him to strip off his riding clothes and to get into bed. Daemon went back out the door. He tracked down a servant and instructed them to ask Maester Gerardys for some sort of remedy to combat Rhagerys's illness. As well as procure some hot honey tea to soothe him. Daemon came back into the chambers and shut the door behind him. He looked to see if Rhagerys was in bed yet. The bed was empty. Daemon glanced around the room and saw Rhagerys out on the balcony. He slightly shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Rhagerys! Why are you out here? I told you to get into bed.” Daemon asked as he walked up to his son. “I...just wanted to see Starsong before I went to bed. I don't know how long I will stuck in there.” Daemon looked to where Rhagerys was looking and could just see Starsong. The dark colored dragon lay slumbering near a hill, at least that is what it looked like to Daemon. She was too far off to be truly certain. “All right, you have seen her. Now to bed.” Daemon grabbed a hold of Rhagerys's shoulders and directed him back to the room. Rhagerys had no energy to try and push back. He let his father effortlessly take control and maneuver him as he pleased.

I'm not going to tag but I am grateful to be tagged. It keeps me wanting to write new works and edit ones I've already written.

[thisisallthehattersfault]

Thinking about. Daemon AU. Thinking about Jimbei having some kind of amphibian (Chinese Giant Salamander?) and it having to try and drag Luffy's monkey daemon off Marineford while Jimbei carried Luffy.

Thinking about the daemons being too slow, and Jimbei having no choice but to pick Luffy's daemon up in order to get them out of there.

Jimbei is ashamed! He has compounded an already traumatic event for Luffy by trespassing against him in a way that can never be apologized or atoned for. He tries so so hard to stay distant and respectful when they meet again, and Luffy hasn't ever brought it up but he's also keeping physical distance so Jimbei assumes he has graciously been forgiven but also that Luffy doesn't feel comfortable putting his daemon in Jimbei's touching range, which does sting -- he would never have done so outside of such extenuating circumstances -- but he can't fault Luffy for his caution.

Then Jimbei gives Luffy a blood transfusion, and as they're both laying there Luffy's monkey crawls over and climbs right up onto Jimbei's chest to curl into a little ball over the scar he got saving them both. As the crowd of gathered fishfolk start absolutely losing their collective minds, Jimbei just goes "Ah. I see." And puts a comforting hand on the monkey's back.

[sabraeal]

Have you ever written any collaborative fanfic with another author? I think you'd be incredibly fun to work with!

I have indeed, though right now it's mostly just bits and pieces of an AU. Me and @bubblesthemonsterartist both write this Concubine AU series, which was originally inspired by @onedivinemisfit 's artwork. Though half the time I feel like that's cheating because part of both mine and Joanna's writing process is "yell in DMs at each other until it's kinda like an outline" and then go off and write. Only this time we wrote different parts of the same thing instead of different things entirely 🤣I did something similar with both the Obi-Works-For-Izana AU with @krispy-kream, and then also the Shirayuki Sedai AU with both Sharon and @claudeng80.

Otherwise I don't think I've done a typical author collaboration-- An Economy of Suffering was just a happy accident, where I wrote something that haunted Joanna so much she had to write a fic, and then those haunted @another-miracle so much SHE had to write her OWN fic, and then we put them all together on AO3.

[z-nightshade]

Daemon AU for An Oracle's Odyssey!

[acaciapines]

man does anybody remember when i making a deltarune daemon au fangame....started that like a WEEK AND A HALF before chapter two came out and i proceeded to write hundreds of thousands of words of deltarune fic in like one year <3 as one does.

replaying what i made of it now and it is SO WEIRD to see this old version of kris njgkdfg my kris is so so so different.

but!!! i AM stealing bits and pieces of it for the dess raises kris au :333 i had a really fun player-mechanic n they are coming along for the ride <3

[dreammfyre]

wedding celebration ⋆ jacaerys velaryon

SUMMARY. You are the only Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter. Jacaerys is your brother, but is engaged to Baela Targaryen and this is the celebration of their wedding announcement.

WARNINGS. +18. Targaryen incest, rude Jacaerys, AU (no Dance of the Dragons, Rhaenyra is the Queen of Seven Kingdoms.)

The engagement celebration was overwhelming and exhausting for you. The queen did not skimp on the grandeur of the event, a dinner full of variety and fresh delicacies, fruits, desserts, large platters of roasted meats that they tore to shreds leaving only the bones. All to celebrate in grand style the marriage of her first son with the daughter of Daemon Targaryen.

For you it was being a bore, sitting next to your brother Lucerys Velaryon who was talking with Rhaena Targaryen. Everyone was enjoying the dragon riders, while you just wanted to escape from the hall where the music, the shouting and the applause made it impossible to have a conversation. Sitting down you played with the food left on your plate, moving your fork side to side without purpose in that place, no one spoke to you, and when they did it was to talk about the couple of the moment. You were trying to get your mother's attention sitting next to Daemon, but she was too busy attending to everyone, always smiling and raising her glass to Jacaerys and Baela to look at you. On your other side, your little brother, Joffrey, was trying to convince you to dance a piece, but you refused for shame of falling down in the attempt.

You watched your brother Jacaerys laugh whispering in his betrothed's ear. But when he looked at you you looked away immediately. You felt your face hot with embarrassment at being discovered, but deep down you didn't mind being unwelcome.

A knight of House Lannister approached the table you shared with your family to ask if you wished to dance with him. Distressed to answer, you looked at your mother pleading for help, but Rhaenyra forced you to stand up for the first time since the event began and do some socializing, something you find very difficult to do.

It was awkward throughout, he just showed you off like a trophy and never looked you in the eye you felt like the song went on for hours. You went round and round, when he touched you a little rejection won you over and you ended up taking a step back. Your smell of alcohol gave you away as did your clumsy and uncoordinated movements. A few meters away, Prince Jacaerys noticed the situation, attentive if his sister needed help. He didn't like to see you with other men, they didn't know how to treat you and that was further proof, he noticed you uncomfortable looking at the exit constantly touching your waist too long. He took the opportunity to get close to your face, he didn't listen to what you were saying but from your facial expression he didn't need to know.

"Is something wrong?" asked Baela noticing that her fiancé was too distracted. Jacaerys immediately denied without arousing suspicion, but without ceasing to be attentive to the situation assuming that he was just behaving like an older brother protecting his sister.

While you continued to dance the extensive choreography you exchanged glances with your brother. None of them looked down, Jacaerys' tense jaw reflected his annoyance.

"You look especially beautiful tonight, my princess," said the blond-haired gentleman, gaining your attention. "The red brings out your look."

Without realizing it, you smiled. It was the first time anyone had complimented your dress that you designed, until the wine glass your escort was holding spilled on you when another gentleman accidentally pushed it. You let out a small scream as you felt the liquid on your skin, the fabric absorbed all the alcohol ruining the golden color of the embroidery.

"Gods." You whispered annoyed looking at the mess you brought on yourself. You looked at the queen who stood attentive to you, Jacaerys stopped suddenly leaving Baela dancing alone by her side who in the happiness of her engagement was not attentive to her guests. "My dress…"

"My princess, I am sorry. I didn't mean to." Said the knight wiping a cloth across your torso, drying a few drops of wine.

"Don't touch me!" You exclaimed when his fingers brushed your chest, an unpleasant and invasive sensation. People turned at your shout and at all that attention you ran, finally escaping the room amidst malicious whispers that were sure to become controversial by tomorrow.

Locked yourself in your room staring at the reflection of the stain I had left on you, cursing yourself for agreeing to leave your safe place in the chair next to your mother and now your favorite dress was ruined. Your fingertips had also turned crimson and you reeked of alcohol.

Not even a minute passed when there was a loud knock on your door, startling you by the unexpected. You approached taking a deep breath so as not to sound distressed or upset.

"I'm fine, mother. I'd rather stay and rest." You said, complimenting yourself for sounding so convincing.

"Let me through." You opened your eyes when Jacaerys' voice was heard on the other side. You immediately opened the door and your brother entered your quarters, which he knew by heart, and hurriedly closed the door before a guard discovered them. You didn't reach to say anything when he rushed to ask. "Did he do something to you?"

"What are you doing here, idiot? You're the fucking groom."

"Did he touch you?" he kept asking, looking at you intently, scaring you. "Damn it. Answer me, did he dare offend you?"

"Balea must be worried about you, must go back." You raised your voice, annoyed by your brother's recklessness. "Her Majesty must be asking about you and I don't think Daemon would be amused if you left his daughter alone in the middle of the celebration."

"Let them ask whatever they want, you know I care little for them and they'll have a hard time finding me."

"Don't tell me lies. You're the heir, all eyes are on you now, it's only natural that you care about your reputation." You said turning your back on him, you weren't angry, you were just being realistic. You didn't want him to look at you. "You need to go back, Jace, your fiancée is probably looking for you around the castle and she's not going to want to find you here."

"You think I want this for myself?" his question sent chills down your spine, Jacaerys' tone sounded hurt. "You must understand what it means to do the duty of our position."

Damn. You thought. That conversation again.

"Do you really want to talk about this right now?"

You heard his footsteps, the right thing to do was for him to leave you alone, but his hands came to rest on your shoulders. An intense sensation ran up your neck as his breath hit your cold skin. His pointed nose touched your back awkwardly moving unsure of his decisions, hands shifted to your waist clinging tightly without letting go. You couldn't control yourself, Jacaerys was yours, you hated to see him with another lady.

"Jace." You whispered with your eyes closed. You wanted to say with all your might that it wasn't right, but the warmth of his breath and his fingers touching yours was so much better.

"Just shut up, can you?" He ordered plaintiff. "And don't call me a liar, that makes me mad, you know it."

Listening to him angry you loved it, he was always so correct but when they were alone you couldn't control it.

You could fall into his arms easily, he had the demanding tone you need to hear. You turned around looking for his mouth desperate to kiss him, to reaffirm that he has been yours forever. His wet lips with yours knew each other perfectly, you were not new to this nor had you spoken of leaving him. Jacaerys took your neck with his hand squeezing gently, but enough to know he didn't want you to move. His tongue entered your mouth invading your space, desperate for your touch he cupped your cheek. You ran your hand through his long hair, tangling your fingers in his curls pulling them pulling his body closer to yours.

"Do you want to do it now?" he growled between your lips without letting go of your waist. You nodded without hesitation forgetting the fear of being discovered, you were so needy and only he could help you. "Gods, you're such a good sister."

Between wet kisses and ragged breaths they reached your bed which was perfectly tidy. His suit with the symbol of House Targaryen stood out on his chest, he sat on the edge waiting for you to sit on it, when you did he kissed your bare neck leaving marks that he cared little if they showed later, he wanted to mark you, that no one would look at you, but the idea that you were desired by the knights he always liked because he could have you while the others only desired you.

"That idiot won't bother you again." He muttered with difficulty, but convinced to keep his word for you. "Vermax will turn it to ashes."

You were so wet that any touch was going to make you scream in orgasm. Jacaerys was your first man and you didn't want anyone to be your second. The first time Jacaerys was gentle and soft with you, but the more they repeated it, hidden from the eyes and ears of others, you experienced more things that pleased both. Your favorite place was the bed, you could do many things there and get into various positions that made you feel more of him.

"We don't have much time, darling." Said the boy tucking a strand of your long hair behind your ear. "We can save that for another day."

In a hurry and a little clumsy, you pulled up the long skirt of your dress just enough to be exposed above it, none of you were naked, you could imagine that the celebration had not stopped in the absence of the prince nor yours. Jacaerys also settled down below you without taking his eyes off you at any time, thinking that he did not want any maiden, however pure and elegant. That wasn't the first time time time had worked against them, but the adrenaline rush was unique, like riding dragons. The sex felt much better though.

"Come here." He commanded with dilated pupils, tired and anxious from so much waiting to feel you. His hot member brushed against your wet entrance unleashing an intense sensation that made you moan but without opening your mouth. Jacaerys' hands slipped under your dress while you didn't let go of his shoulders so you wouldn't lose your balance, your knees bent on the mattress giving you comfort and the prince sitting under you, watching your every expression.

"You don't know how much I was looking forward to having you again." You said panting, your skin beginning to flush from the heat emanating from your bodies. "Promise you won't leave me." You said taking her face in your hands, desperate for the rubbing between your legs. "Get fucking married, but you'll keep coming back to me."

When he entered you let out a sweet moan that you tried to hide by covering your mouth. Jacaerys threw his head back taking a moment to accommodate you, you were so wet he slid in easily reaching your bottom in a matter of seconds. You squeezed his shoulder reflexively and he smiled when he heard you moan.

"Look at me." He commanded taking in your hot face, you found it hard to concentrate feeling him so deep inside you, but you looked into his eyes. "I will always come back to you." Replied.

And that was what you needed to hear.

You moved up and down slowly, Jacaerys moans giving you more pleasure from the movements and the feeling between your legs. The prince closed his eyes tensing his jaw holding his cum so fast, you kissed him biting his thick lips at the same time moaning louder.

You were clothed but it felt so good to feel his member rubbing against your walls that you just wanted to increase the speed. Jace enjoyed feeling you, with your hands he pulled down the front of your stained dress to let your breasts out. He took one between his big hands to squeeze it mercilessly, making you moan, you were very sensitive to any touch and your brother knows how to take you to the max.

"Jace." You gasped without stopping.

"Go on." He challenged you.

You listened to him, obviously. You were convinced that if at that moment Baela Targaryen entered you would not mind if she found you riding her future husband.

You felt him hard and hot, you watched him writhe with pleasure under your body, you kept moving until you couldn't hold back the urge to speak.

"Do you know what that man told me?" You asked pausing for a second, Jacaerys eyes opened still inside you, you caressed his open, swollen lips. "If I married him I was never going to be short of a good fuck."

The prince's expression changed completely, you knew what you had just done and you didn't regret it. He grabbed you by the waist and turned you over on the bed leaving you exposed to his desire and discomfort. He quickly pulled your dress up again entering you, this time without softness or gentleness that characterized him, you screamed forgetting that you should keep quiet to guard his secret, but he grabbed you so tightly and kept moving behind you.

"Do you like it like this?" he asked agitated, moving back and forth constantly, you were clinging to the sheets. You nodded unable to modulate a statement. "No one can touch you." He kept up the accelerated pace. You stuck your cheek to the mattress in pain but the sensation in your legs was growing, the friction was getting more and more delicious and rough, it was something new that you liked. Your brother's hands were marked on your skin, there was less and less time left to feel the orgasm. You wanted him to know what he was going to miss out on by marrying another woman.

"Jaca-Jacaerys." You tried to speak.

"A little more." He begged.

You couldn't stand the pressure growing under her belly any longer, your legs faltered and your chest couldn't expand any more. You stood there for a few seconds recomposing yourself, trying to get the air back into your hot agitated lungs. You turned to look at him, he looked exhausted, his skin red and curls in disarray. You had never felt his anger or jealousy over you.

You sat on the edge of your bed while he quietly adjusted his pants. Jacaerys looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting her hair, her suit, trying to conceal it. You didn't know whether to speak or remain silent.

"I'll go back to the celebration." He said without looking at you.

"It's okay." You whispered tidying the long skirt of the frayed dress. "I think so do I."

The prince turned with an expression of unpleasant surprise. "Are you serious?"

"Sure. I'm going to change this fucking dress first." You affirmed with an innocent smile. Your hair messy, your lips swollen and wet were still warm. "Congratulations for your wedding; brother." You scoffed.

Jacaerys grabbed your jaw hard stealing a long kiss that you didn't manage to escape. He looked at you disapprovingly. "You’re wicked."

[autisticaboutstufflol]

Dropping this at your feet like a cat with a dead mouse :3

This is another fic set in my daemon au, this time focusing on Law and his daemon as they come to terms with themselves after Minion Island.

If you like it, please leave a comment or kudos! I am also like, desperately looking for a beta reader who would be willing to put up with my autism bullshit, so if you like what you've read so far and would like a glimpse into my mind and google docs, please hit me up!

[misguidedasgardian]

GLADIATORS

CREGAN I.

MASTERLIST

Summary: You see your father’s latest acquisition in a closer way, a wild man from the North who had become one of his gladiators.  

Pairing: Slave!Gladiator!Cregan x Domina!Reader

Warnings: Ancient Rome AU, Cursing, slavery (and everything that comes with it, technically rape, forced labour, punishments), blood, guts, gladiator battles, lude language, nudity, sex and everything related is no biggie here, we’re a ‘sex positive’ Republic, mentions of sex, same sex couples, orgies, and more.

MINORS DNI + 18

Wordcount: 6,7 k

Notes: This reader is young perhaps… like 18? 20? but so is Cregan!

“Dad, he is old!”, you whined. You heard your older brother snicker by your side, as their silly wives snickered like the silly girls they were. You sighed as you popped a grape into your mouth followed closely by a piece of cheese and bread and a sip of wine. 

“He’s got money… and he is in the senate!”, he said then, signaling one of the slaves to start lighting up the oil lamps along the Triclinium, the night had fallen over King’s Landing and it was getting dark.

“I bet you could find someone who’s in the senate who’s got a wife he is willing to divorce, and he won’t die of old age before the wedding”, mocked your eldest brother, but soon got quiet as your father looked at him with severity

“Nobody should divorce their wives on my account”, you said, the notion made your stomach turn. Even though divorce was a common thing, if a man desired another, or another union would ensure more privileges, or if his woman was unfaithful or not able to give in heirs to the family, they could divorce. A woman could divorce her husband too if she had her own reasons.

You knew the dowry of your middle brother’s bride was quickly being spent on the training of the gladiators in the Ludus underneath the house, so he needed to come into some money quickly, even though he would have to pay for your dowry.

One of the greatest events of the year was coming quickly, and his Gladiators needed to be in top shape. 

“Tomorrow I want you all there, at the games of Senator Tywin”

“Have we’ve been invited to the pulvinus father?”, asked your eldest brother

“Close enough, right by it”, he said, he seemed pleased, but you had learned to read him better, there was something lurking in his eyes that betrayed a darker desire… for more power perhaps.

“I've heard that Larys Strong and therefore Alys Rivers got an invitation this year to the pulvinus, and her gladiators in the primus at sundown”, whispered Martyn

You had two oldest brothers, Alton and Martyn. 

“That Ludus stands as such because of that whore Alys Rivers”, mumbled your father

“A woman Lanista?”, you asked, “how could that be?”

“She is not, but she whispers in her half-brother's ear while he aspires to be in higher positions”, explains your father. “While his brother, first born son and heir goes around playing gladiator”

“He is a slave?”, you asked

“He volunteer himself into that life”, murmured Alton, “you had seen him fight sister, Harwin”

“Oh wow!”, you said, not really knowing what to say, but rather, sipping your wine, you did remember seeing the biggest person you had seen upon the arenas of King’s Landing’s Coliseum. 

“Anyways, Alys stands as such because she was advised many years by Daemon himself the demon of the arenas”, mumbled Martyn

“Yes, fine Daemon/Demon”, your father would repeatedly, while on his cups, tell the tale of his biggest regret, and that was not purchasing a young Daemon while he was still in training, he grew to be the greatest gladiator at the arena, so much so he won his own freedom at the games of the Vulcanalia some years ago. Daemon, as many other gladiators, came from the shadowlands of Essos, as he sported beautiful white/silver hair and violet eyes. 

You would never say this outloud, but the gladiator battles were never a thing of your interest, not really. You did not liked the bloodshed, the gutting, you had no taste for violence, and yet, there was something to admire as you saw those men fighting 

They looked like they were carved from the finest artist, they stood like they were gods above the sands. They stood as fierce representations of the god of war himself.

“Well, her reign of depravity will not last long, I heard the Northman shows great promise”, mumbled Martyn’s wife Adella 

“What about the Northman?”, Martyn asked then, you raised your head in question. Oh the Northman.

The man had your father in a lockdown, taking most of his time, money and patience. He was ‘caught wild’ in one of the last incursions of the armies of the emperor to the wild tribes of the North, hence his nickname. Purchased by your father at the slave market, and trained for the last months. With the purchase, your father was hoping to impress Tywin Lannister himself, a senator and a very wealthy man, it did not work, so far, as the man planned to visit your father’s villa upon invitation to see the Northman’s training and hopeful subjugation. So far, no luck. 

He was caught fighting, he wasn’t a stranger to it, but there was a long way from being a soldier to being a gladiator. From being… whatever he was up there, to obey command from a man that subdued you into slavery. 

But again, your father’s temper has closely returned to normal, so, you could only assume the training was becoming fruitful, even so slowly. 

“He will never be tamed”, he said curtly, “but… if we keep managing him properly, we can turn that hate of his into the arena, he shows great promise”

“Forgive me father”, you said, raising from your place in the triclinium, “I take my leave to bed”, you said with a soft smile, nodding at everyone present

“Good, I won’t have you all tired tomorrow”, he said approvingly, and you nodded, thinking for which old bat he would have you presentable tomorrow.

He was determined to get you wed before the autumn plantings at the end of the year, and he didn’t seem to care to whom as long as it brought privileges upon his house. 

It was hot, so hot, you could barely stand, you were eternally grateful to your personal slave, Anya, who stood by your side, fanning you with a soft paper fan. She leaned into you as you allowed her, to also enjoy the soft waves.

Although, they brought some stench from all the people around you.

King’s Landing, although the capital of the great republic, stood famous for its stench, having grown rapidly and unprepared for it. 

The sun cooking the viewers of the spectacle didn’t help either.

The people cheered, bringing a new wave of hodor that made you dizzy and poor Anya almost faint

“Did you see that?”, asked your elder brother to the youngest, as two gladiators fought to the death, one cutting the other’s arm. HIs screams could be heard all the way up where you stood, near the pulvinus.

You rather stare into the sun, which you did. Soon, after midday, it was going to hide behind the wooden beams supporting the canvas on top of the Arena, there you truly were going to enjoy it. being able to relish in the shadow. 

“Tywin demanded only the best this city has to offer present themselves in his games”, the comment alone made you turned your gaze upon the Arena, as people cheered again, some even pushed you in their ecstasy, to see the gladiator in shining white armor decapitate the one missing his arm

“And Cole does it again”, said Martyn. The one who had an armor so polished it was blinding was known as Cole, he stood from the Rhoynar in the south, from Dorne itself, plucked from the desert to fight in another kind of arena. 

“See her gloat”, demanded Alton, you all looked towards the Lanista herself, Alys Rivers in the pulvinus, with a smug look upon her face, she of course was the one holding the wip that trained the man in the arena.

She was of extraordinary beauty, long lustrous black hair, long to her hips, wearing a deep green stola, beautifully decorated atop a black tunic, you wondered how she did not bake wearing such dark colors. 

She was stuck to the side of her rumored half-brother, he was a.. interesting man, thin and a bit twisted, unruly hair but fine clothing adorned his weak frame. 

“People of King’s Landing…!”, presented Otto HIghtower from the pulvinus, a small but central box, where the most prominent people attending the games would sit at. He was a Senator, friend to Tywin Lannister and apparently presenter to today’s games. Maybe he was the patron of the entire occasion, your father had been paid by a HIghtower man.

But this… was far from over.

It was odd to see such a gladiator so early in the day, the sundown was reserved for the very best part of the games, the primus, between the two best and more known gladiators. 

You found yourself thinking about like four names at the time.

Harwin, Cole, Aemond, and… the Northman.

Although Harwin was disapparating from latest presentations… he still held name, but he had lost his prowess as the last time he found himself in the Arena he asked for mercy as he found himself losing, he raised his hand in the air with both index and middle finger pointing to the skies begging for mercy, and it was granted.

Against Cole himself. He got terribly injured almost a year ago, thereafter only presenting himself in fights long before midday sun.

Yes, everything you knew about gladiators and fights was learnt unwillingly. 

But the primus did not belong to your father, so the Northman was fighting early, thankfully. You might have a chance to survive this heat, by retiring back to your father’s villa early.

Although, these occasions were like the market for older unmarried men. And your father would have you giving everything to sell…  

“... I give to you, from one of the greatest Ludus of the Republic, a man, from the wild tribes North of the neck…”, your father smiled proudly as the name of the family was spoken loudly for everyone to hear. “trained to wet the sands with the blood of his enemies… I give you… CREGAN!”, people booed at his entrance, as the wild tribes of the North had been villainized by the Republic, as relentless, violent and above all, uncultured and barbaric, but you had learned to read between the lines, they were described as such because they refused to bend the knee.

The gates of the Arena opened on the west side, revealing the men ready for battle. He stood tall and broad despite his young age, his dark brown hair tied back, although hidden by a thick helmet in the shape of a wolf’s head. 

He wore nothing protecting his torso, yet a thick metal belt putting together the lower part of a tunic. He wore forearm and shin protectors, and thick leather sandals 

He had a huge sword in hand, and a shield on his other.

The sight alone took your breath away.

You had seen him only practicing, briefly, as your father did not approve of you gazing from your balcony down to the men. As they would, “get distracted”, and you didn't enjoy their eyes filled with lust either. So you refrained from doing so, but…

The mere glimpses you had gotten of the men were nothing when putting in comparison to the men upon the sand today.

In all glory, in strength, as a gladiator was the mightiest representation of a man, or that is what your father always said.

This was a rare sighting though, as he had barely been making a name for himself, this time might be the first he presents himself alone. Your father was right, taiming him was proving to be incredibly difficult, but nobody could deny that even if he presented himself a gladiator today under your father’s ludus, he was still as unruly as the first time you laid eyes upon him, as the first time you gaze down upon him, entering through the gates, kicking and screaming, hair longer than you had seen in a men, even longer than he had now. 

He fought your father’s guards and even the ones who he would call his brothers this present day.

Tywin himself called for the start of the fight, his opponent was someone of the Ludus of Larys himself, one with lesser note, his name left your ears as soon as you heard it.

But you couldn't care less, as when he started to move upon the sands, the rest of the world could crumble around you and it would not matter in the slightest.

“He stands superior in all aspects”, mumbled one of your brothers and you couldn't tell which as you were so hypnotized.

Cregan attacked first, and that was very frowned upon in the Lanistas, as the first to strike tended to have disadvantage, his opponent met him half way and the clash of gladious responded all over the coliseum. 

There were some gladiators that favored other weapons, like the spear and short shield, or the Retiarius, that were gladiators trained with a net and a trident, in a fisherman fashion. 

It sounded laughable in paper, but they were quite impressive in the arena, not this time though, both gladiators stood with a gladious, meaning a sword, and a long squared concave shield.

The fight wasn’t lengthy, the superiority of the Northman was clear since the very first movement.

Although it wasn’t less breathtaking, as each of their movements, attacks, the way they moved, and deflected, its like they were dancing, dancing in a mortal rhythm 

The crowd cheered for them, and even though they were not on the Northman’s side, suddenly, they shifted as it became clear that he was the better fighter. 

Although you did not enjoy the games, there was this moment, this exact moment in which you felt like your heart was in your throat and you could tear your eyes apart from the fight. The moment where you really cared about who won, about who survived. The Northman, even thought it was the 

But it was brief, first Cregan drew blood on the arm of his opponent, and then, after a quick movement, the man was dead, dropped in a growing pool of blood on the floor. 

The magic was gone, and the crowd erupted in cheers, applauding, screaming his name, although there were those disappointed because of the outcome.

“He will be the champion of our house!”, said Alton, “mark my words!”, he said, as your two brothers hugged each other in happiness. you turned to Anya, who had a soft smile on her face, but kept fanning the both of you 

The rest of the fights happened quickly after that, the sun hiding behind the podium of the magistrates and people of importance in the city, which gave you relief as the day turned quickly, the sun moved above the sky until it hid behind the outer walls of the coliseum. 

The last fight ended quickly as well, Aemond killing his opponent in an impressive showing of strength and blood. 

Your father was called upon another man near the pulvinus, as you tried to stand your ground as people around you were quickly to leave the arena, but you managed to stand your ground, as your siblings found friends of their own to talk to. 

Your father came back to you, rubbing his hands amongst each other with a pleased look on his face

“I must attend a meeting in the magistrate’s house”, he said happily, “He spotted me in the crowd and invited me”, you smiled at him

“I’m pleased, father”, you said with a soft smile

“See yourself to the villa, with our guards and slaves, don’t wait up”, he commanded the lot of you. 

“We have been invited to the Lannisters”, mumbled Martyn, your father’s eyes again shone with interest. So he nodded towards your brother.

“I trust you’ll be well taken care of”, he said then, turning to you, he then signaled to one of his most trusted guards and even to the Doctore himself, the trainer of the gladiators.

“Yes father”, you nodded at Anya and the both of you exited the arena, followed closely by a guard. 

You turned quickly as you heard your name being called by a familiar voice, as you were int he shade of the hallways, as you turned you found yourself with your old friend from your childhood, Alysanne Blackwood

“How long haven’t we gaze upon one another?”, she said, grabbing your forearms as you did hers, she leaned in a made attempt to kiss both your cheeks as it was accustomed

“Too long”, you said with a long sigh

“We shall remedy that immediately!”, she said then, “you didn’t mind telling me your father’s Ludus was the one who owns the Northman himself?”, she tried

“Oh well, much has happened in the last couple of years”, you said shyly, smiling softly at her.

This was hardly the time, all the people were leaving the coliseum, and pushed you who were trying to stand on the sidelines. She looked at you with those deep green eyes of hers, she was so beautiful, lean and tall, with thick black hair fixed beautifully and big green eyes, her smile was contagious. 

“Well it's been too long”, she said then, as you failed to meet what she desired, “and I will wait no longer, to get reacquainted with dear friend”, she said, grabbing your hands

“My villa, its mine for the night, as my father meets with important men”, you offered, her smile was as beautiful as the rest of her

“Perfect, Jeyne Frey is also here”, she said, “we’ll go together”.

To say you were nervous was an understatement 

The night found you and your friends in the safety of the triclinium in your family’s villa, where the soft wine flowed freely and also the dining. 

“And his cock was huge!”, she said, making you gasp

“Alyssane!”, you chided, “don’t say that!”, you said, feeling your cheeks heated

“What? Cock?”, she teased, “Cock! Cock! Cock! COCK!”

“Stop it!”, you slapped her arm playfully

“I see them all the time!”, Jeyne said then, looking sheepishly, hiding her smirk in her cup of wine. 

“Only because you like to peek as your brothers have sex with slaves!”, mocked Alyssane 

“No I don’t!”, she said, but you knew she was lying. 

“I bet that Northman’s cock is huge too”, teased Alyssane, finally revealing her true intentions behind her and Jeyne’s visit to your father’s villa. You got quiet, so did Jeyne, but the expression on her face said it all, she was as intrigued as Alyssane

“I wouldn’t know, even if I saw it”, you said

“You had never seen a man naked?”, asked Alyssane, raising one of her perfect eyebrows

“No”, you said then, well… you sort of had, men, male slaves on sale on the streets, but you had refused to look long enough to draw a complete image in your mind. What you saw in a couple of seconds did not please you at all, rather… you disliked.. something so… small and wobbly. You shaked at the very memory of it.

“You had never seen any of your gladiators in such fashion?”, asked Jeyne, ready to tease and follow Alyssane’s lead.

“No I have not!”, you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Aren’t you at least a bit curious?”, asked Jeyne

“Well, of course I am”, you defended

“You are to be married before the darkest of the winter months, you should at least know what you are up against”, Alyssane said simply, “and I would not deny the sight… of such a man”

“You are here just to gaze upon naked men?”, you said playfully, although, a bitter taste in your mouth, as you were feeling clearly used, and pressured.

“No, I am here to gaze upon naked gladiators”, Jeyne said then.

But another flavor joined the others, the need deep within you impress your friends, your friends from rich houses of the capital 

“Bring me the Northman”, you said to the guard that stood in the corner watching the whole reunion, he seemed terribly nervous, but nodded and left you. You shaked with the resolution in your command, and felt a pit in your stomach in anticipation.

You knew he was going to take a while, so you turned back at your friends and smiled nervously, and they seemed terribly motivated. 

“I must say”, began Jeyne, as she saw your face filled with trepidation, “that my tongue will not be kept from wagging about your hospitality to my father”, she wanted to make sure you knew there was going to be recompense for this, and good recompense. His father, as old as time, sat in the senate, she stood the daughter of a senator.

“Thank you Jeyne”, you said with a soft smile, you took a long gulp of your cup, to try and soothe your nerves. Alyssane did the same, but with a smirk on her lips, she said nothing as she studied your form. 

Finally, they both took sit position in their triclinium as you heard movement behind you. You looked back to see their trainer Roose Bolton, following closely behind the man himself. The wildling from the tribes of the North, whose name was Cregan Stark, although everyone called him… ‘The Northman’

He stood with thick shackles around both wrists. in front of him. He was wearing nothing but a clean subligaria, and his body was like one of a god, well defined and gleamed under the light of the torches, he had recently been cleaned. The sight made your mouth dry, so you took another long sip of the mulsum in your cup. He had thick brown hair that he used tied in the back of his head, and he had sharp eyes, cold as ice and the same colour. The features of his face were soft, declaring his young age, your own, perhaps. 

“Leave us”, you demanded, but the trainer Roose Bolton looked conflicted

“Domina, I don’t think…”

“I said leave us”, you said, about to lose your courage, your friends behind you giggled, weirdly giving you confidence to commit to your own command. With a grunt, the doctore nodded and left you, with only your friends, a couple of guards standing silently in the corners of the room behind veils, and him.

The Northman

He was deadly still, looking forwards, beyond you and your friends, beyond this room, his jaw was tense, you could tell that being here, summoned by you like this… for him was humiliating, but there he stood, tense like a bow. He said nothing, he didn’t move an inch.

“Is this what all northmen look like?”, Jeyne teased, “he is more beast than man”, you didn’t know if that was a real question, but your eyes never left his form, even if it wasn’t he didn’t answer.

“You can answer”, you encouraged 

“All northmen do not look like me”, he said finally, the dark tone in his voice made the three of you gasp. “some make me look like an Andal”, Jeyne and Alyssane giggled at the prospect of finding even gruffer men than him. 

“Oh he speaks the common tongue”, Alyssane was on fire, making you more uncomfortable. His eyes finally found yours, and you couldn’t take your own out of his. 

“Yes he does”, you whispered, he indeed had a beautiful set of eyes. You then looked down at his chest, there was a red line, his injury from the battle in the Arena, it was still fresh, but you could tell it was healing properly

“I think he is handsome”, mumbled Alyssane, taking foot to walk towards him, you feared his reaction, as the guard standing in the corner of the room clenched his hand around the pommel of his sword. 

But the gladiator still didn't move as Alysanne walked around him, teasing him with a single finger, touching his skin as she walked. His eyes were still on you. 

“He stands as Mars, ready for war”, she whispered

“Alyssane seems taken by the man”, teased Jeyne in your ear

It was a curious thing, this what you were feeling, like somebody wanted to take something that belonged to you, but again, he wasn’t a thing, and you didn’t own him. Not technically at least, your father did.

“Their day starts early tomorrow”, you mumbled, making Alysane stop and look back at you with a teasing smile on her face. “his training I mean”, you said then

“Of course”, she said, you signaled the poor shaking guard and he grabbed Cregan, and took him from your side. You could swear you saw lingering eyes from him to you, but you must have imagined it.

“You should… enjoy him while you can”, said Jeyne finally, once you found yourselves alone again

“What do you mean?”, you asked her, her and Alyssane shared complicit looks

“Well, obviously, before you take an old bat as a husband, you should enjoy one of his gladiators, like that Northman for example”

“No…”, you said quickly, “I couldn’t possibly do something like that”

“Why not?”, asked Alyssane

“He is a man trained as a gladiator!”, you said, “he is a bit dirty…”, you tried, not quite convinced 

“You have him bathed and oiled before you”, said Alyssane like it was no issue 

“What if he doesn't want to?”, you tried then

“He is a slave, under your command…”, said Jeyne, “...and a man”

“What if he decided to kill me instead?”, you said then, “wrap his hands around my neck”

“I will not shame you is that is to your pleasure”, giggled Alyssane

“Aly!”, you whined, “the point is I really couldn’t, I mean, he is big and thick… and wild looking”

“Delicious then”, she offered

“Dangerous…”, you continued, although you felt your cheeks heated. 

“Well if you don't have him, maybe I could!”, she teased

“What are you talking about?!”, you asked, scandalized, “when have you heard that proper Andal women lay with their gladiators?”

“Oh I’ve heard a ludus where such things happen quite frequently”, she teased

“Where?”, you asked

“In Alys Rivers’ ludus!”, your eyes opened wide in shock

“Really?”, you asked, “the bastard sister of the Lanista Larys Strong?”, you asked 

“They say she offers her gladiators in… other manners”, she said, winking at you, “perhaps we should find ourselves at her door?”, she asked Jeyne

“Perhaps we shall”, she said back. 

“Don’t be mean!”, you teased back, she laughed, as she was clearly jesting, you hoped.

“The hour is late”, said Jeyne with a soft smile, “I should start my journey back to my villa before my father starts a search party”, she said, raising from her chair

“Yes! me as well!”, said Alyssane, “I hope I can meet you tomorrow at the market?”, she asked you, you smiled and nodded profusely, as you accompanied them to the atrium, and therefore the door

As you watched them leave, nervousness started to take a hold on you, as did the warmth of the wine consumed to hide your embarrassment 

It was not common to find yourself alone in your villa, your father had allowed it because you were in company of friends -who had influential fathers-, but now there you stood, no brothers, or sisters in law, father or friends to loom over you.

Your lower belly burned with necessity, with something you have never felt before, a longing, your body burned with anticipation and excitement. You didn’t know if it was the mulsum you had drank, or the power you just discovered, all the whole thing combined.

“Bring the Northman up here”, you said to the first guard you saw, he nodded and went to comply with your command. Your body was tingly because of the alcohol and you were excited to say the least, you didn’t even care that you had already sent the poor man down mere minutes ago, tonight, you had the power.

You shakily served yourself some more wine, back in the safety of the triclinium, the room where you ate, met with friends and family, where you were most comfortable. The man was standing right in front of you in minutes, the guards nodded at you and then left you as they had done before.

The gladiator stood there, now he seemed more surprised than before, as he found you alone, and he also seemed to be showing more of his emotions on his face.

“Northman”, you called, he turned to you quickly, anger in his eyes

“That’s not my name!”, it took you by surprise, you couldn’t deny it, the anger in his eyes, the sharpness in his tone. 

“What is your name?”, it was of no consequence to you, his domina, and you should express so, that it did not matter anymore what his real name was, but, there you were, asking him nonetheless

“My parents named me Cregan”, he said, “of House Stark”, he said sharply, “as many leaders of my house before me”

There was so much more you wanted to ask, as his words truly shocked you, but as you gazed down the street you came to your senses, realizing that you should not allow such things. As your father tended to say, “who were you before this Ludus does not matter, the only thing in your mind should be sand, and the blood of your enemies”

“That is not what you are here for”, you finally find your voice, minimizing his anger at hand, turning his attention somewhere else.

“Remove your subligaria”, you whispered the command as if you did not wish it, and his sharp eyes were trained on you

“Look at you, a little domina in the making”, he teased, his tone much changed since he let you know of his true name. The very words made your cheeks heated, and you found yourself averting his gaze, his did not stray from your face as he released himself from the only item of clothing he was wearing. Your eyes followed the trail of his perfect skin, down his toned chest to his belly and…

The sight alone made you gasp. 

This looked nothing like the ones of the male slaves in the market, if anything, those were… flacid and small, that sight brought you disgust and uneasiness, this one however, made your mouth dry and your skin tingle with desire. Desire that was pooling in your lower belly.

“You can touch me”, he said, he was being amused at your expense, only making you even more nervous, “I will not bite… much”, your hand was placed on his belly, muscles showing in beautiful shapes, you couldn't believe something could be hard but soft at the same time.

As your hand lowered, you found thick dark hairs there, making you shudder 

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen”, he whispered, so close to your face your hand stopped right before getting to his base and you looked up at him.

“I’m the daughter of your dominus”, you said, as you believed he was forced to praise you.

“Do you think that’s got something to do with what I just said?”, he asked. Your hand stopped right as the base of his cock, you shuddered, his manhood was terribly hot. 

You had never spoken to this man before today, you had barely glanced at him, and now, here he stood, under your command, looking at you with his sharp eyes, not missing a thing. 

“I’m sorry, this was a bad idea…”, you whined retrieving your hands like his skin burned you. Cregan grunted when your soft hands left his cock, and that only made you burn more heatedly

“And you are going to leave me hanging like this?”, he asked, amused, mocking you, but inside he was suffering, he was enjoying it too much, it has been so long without a woman’s touch, “you can’t do that!”

“My apologies”, you said quickly, leaving him there standing 

His doctore came to collect him, he retrieved his cloth from the ground, putting it in place

“A little tease that one”, he mumbled to the serious man

“Do not speak of domina in that way”, he growled as he pushed him 

“There is not much domina in her”, he chuckled

“That’s it, five lashes in the courtyard”, he said

“I’d think better of it doctore”, he said defiantly, taking advantage of the fact that only the two of them were present in the narrow passage that separated the villa from the training grounds of the Slaves, “the Vulcanalia is merely a fortnight away from now, and they have high hopes for me”

“Keep walking boy”, Roose Bolton threatened.

He led him downstairs and then through the big gate that separated the villa from the ludus, where the gladiators lived and trained. A guard locked it tight after they passed through it

“I advise you to keep what happened to yourself”, he said gloomly, Cregan looked back at his doctore, but nodded.

He was directed straight to a long open room, where the gladiators ate lunch and dinner. He directed himself to the cook, who gave him a clay pot with a white mush in it, just like the day before, and the night before that. 

“Here comes the whore!”, someone shouted at him, as his “brothers” started mocking him and winking at him.

It didn’t take much to guess what happened in the villa, there was only one reason you get called upon at such hours, and wearing so little

“Shut the hell up Ben”, he mumbled to his only friend he had in the Ludus, he haden’t say anything, but he was grinning at him like an idiot.

“Was it her?”, he asked him, “the daughter? the domina?”

“Yes”, he said, his friend pushed him playfully

“Did you fuck her?”, Cregan just looked at him angrily

“No”

“Was she not pleased with you then?”. he asked, frowning

“She is young, she doesn’t know what she wants”, he said simply, really not wanting to share what had happened upstairs.

It was humiliating, to say the least, to be treated like that. To be called upon to be gazed at by women who looked at him like a piece of meat, and then again to be touched.

Oh but he meant every word

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, since the first time he saw you, standing on that balcony, looking down at him. He did not blame you for your father, for the blood that ran through your veins, for the republic that created you. You had nothing to do with any of it.

Just by looking at you he could tell the kind soul that moved your body and warmed your heart

But you were the daughter of the man who purchased him, he wasn’t the one who enslaved him, but it was the man that had condemned him to the life of a gladiator. 

“Well, maybe you can change her mind”, he teased

The only reason he was playing along with the Andals was to see how to escape them, so far, it had been easy to stay alive, he had been trained since he could pick up a sword on how to hunt, how to fight, how to survive, the North was not a place for the weak

“Father?”, you called out loud, the servants all dropped their eyes as you passed them by looking for him, but you couldn’t find him in his study, so you were on your way to his room at the other side of the villa

“What’s this ruckus?”, he asked, looking at you with sharp eyes as he went to encounter you in the atrium

“My good friend Alyssane has summoned me to go to the market at noon”, you knew he wouldn’t refuse you, not if Alyssane was involved, so he just sighed and motioned for you to follow him. You went back to his study, passing all the statues decorating the atrium. A normal Andal family would display in honor effigies of their most prominent family members, but yours displayed the most prominent gladiators and fighters that had come from this ludus.

“Here”, he passed you a small punch filled with gold coins

“Thank you father”, you said, offering a complacent smile

“Take one of my men with you”, he said then, “one of the gladiators”

“I hardly think that’s necessary, a servant and a guard would do just fine”, you said quickly, always as you were in the market you wanted to pass by as inconspicuous as you could. 

“I insist, after the games, and before the Vulcanalia, I want the people to see them, to get excited, take the Northman”, you hid your face before your father could see the embarrassment in it. 

One of the guards of the villa went to fulfill his request, and you sighed in exasperation. 

You came back to your rooms to get ready to go out, and once you were, you returned to the entrance of the house, where Cregan himself was waiting for you with a severe look on his face, this was not to his liking, he was standing right by a guard, and by Roose Bolton. 

The sight alone made you tremble

Had he told anybody what happened the day before? that you had touched him and presumed to have him?

Once his eyes found yours, he smirked. 

“If something befalls the daughter of your dominus, fate worse than death awaits you boy”, he said in his ear

“Rest assured, that I will look after her with my life”, he said with a silly little smile.

You took a long sigh, and nodded to the guards and started walking out of the villa.

The villa stood on top of a hill, you had a pretty nice view upon the city of King’s Landing, but the rest of it wasn't quite impressive, the road was made of dirt and the houses around it were less impressive than the one your father had inherited from his father. It had been in your family since the very creation of the city.

You led a small comitive, all on foot, as you bluntly refused to be carried in a cot. You, your faithful slave Anya, Cregan himself, being flanked by two guards.

The center of the city started right at the foot of the hill, so it was a short minute walk.

You reach a street made of cobblestone, one adjacent to the one that led to the main street, as it was time before you had to meet Alyssane, you started to look the small stores

“Did your father hear of the way you handled me last night?”, Cregan whispered as Anya was tending elsewhere, you look back sharply at the Northman.

“No, and he shall not!”, you said sharply

“Oh well, I guess if he had, he’d have me castrated”, he whispered for your ears only, “and I guess you don’t want that as it seems you like what you saw”, he teased

“Stop it”, you said back. Your father was a practical man, and if he had heard of what occurred last night, you would be the one at fault, as everyone involved was just following your command. “My father will never know of this”, you sentenced 

“You wanted to lay with me? A gladiator? a slave?”, he asked then

“I was mistaken”, you said, trying to gaze upon what a man was cooking on his store towards the street, it smelled delicious 

“You are mistaken”, you heard him claim, his thick accent made your thighs, “for seeking bedding before connecting, to seek sex, instead of love, to want lust before you even began to feel the fondness”, he said sincerely.

“Thinking love is something within the grasp of someone in my position is foolish, and I learned not to be blinded and distracted by foolish things”, you whispered sadly. You nodded at the man and exchanged a couple of aerus for a plate of lamb soup. “I’ll be married before the year is over”, you whispered. 

[theshittymarimo]

Dreams and Daemons

Prologue: Romance Dawn Fandom: One Piece Summary: In another vast world of adventure, devil fruits, and diverse islands, everything may seem similar. But in this world there are also daemons by their side through it all. This is the introductions of the daemons. Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

In Makino’s bar, a black and white monkey with a striped long tail sat in Shanks’s lap, poking at a gem that he had brought for her from their latest trip. “Hey, Luffy”, Shanks called out to the happy boy who was scarfing down food next to him. “Yeah?” Luffy responded distractedly, fully focused on his second lunch. “Can I ask Meggy a question?” Shanks asked, aware that it wasn’t common for people to speak to other people’s daemons unless they were close to each other, as in considering each other almost like family. It was considered polite to ask the human first if someone wanted to talk to someone else’s daemon. Luffy looked at him with bulging cheeks, like he had asked him a stupid question. He glanced down at his daemon, who was right there in Shanks’ lap. “She’s right there”, Luffy responded, like he was weird before returning to his food. Shanks sighed, he should’ve known that Luffy would answer like that. Those two weren’t exactly like others and had been that way since Shanks first met them. “Hey, Meggy”, Shanks began again, looking down at her in his lap. “Yeah?” Meggy answered, quickly losing interest in the gem as the pirate captain shifted his focus to her. She let the gem fall down on the floor with a clatter and without waiting for an answer, she climbed onto his shoulders, letting her long tail curl around his face. She seemed oblivious to the fact that it tickled his nose and made it harder for him to continue. Instead, she seemed intent on leaning over Luffy to see if there was any food left for her, using her tail around Shanks’s face as an anchor. “Meggy”, Shanks sighed again, blowing some fur out of his mouth. “You know, most daemons don’t climb all over other people like this.” “Huh?” Meggy said in surprise, stopping what she was doing and looking back at him in surprise. “You don’t feel uncomfortable?” he asked curiously. He knew from his own experience that when his daemon touched someone else, it required immense trust for letting someone else touch a part of your soul. There was something very exposing in letting yourself bare for someone else to touch as people could get a flash of the person’s inner self and feelings. Most people felt fear or embarrassment from it. But all he could feel from Meggy was curiosity. “Why would I?” she tilted her head in confusion. “… I don’t know”, Shanks responded after a moment with a quirk of his lips as he returned to his drink. “Shanks is weird!” Luffy laughed loudly for the whole bar to hear as he finished his food. “Ah! You didn’t leave anything for me Luffy!” Meggy shouted in distress. “You little brat”, Shanks’s brow twitched as his crew around them laughed.

[queers-gambit]

Not All That Glitters is Gold

prompt: during your engagement dinner, you learn from your fiancé's niece that he holds choice words about you. or finding out he calls you clingy behind your back.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 3.1k+

warnings: cursing, draaaama, mild angst, AU timeline technically, hurt and comfort (reader don't play those games i guess), relationship angst, half edited.

His cloak was a shimmering beacon of golden glimmer even in the dark of night. It promoted an air of confidence and swagger, something independent from his usual cockiness. No, with that gold cloak, he walked as if the very air you all breathed was produced by him; being silent and domineering in his presence. It had been something you were initially attracted to, his alluring mystery and overwhelming stoic self-awareness.

He moved around the Throne Room like wings were gifted to his feet, carrying him with lithe movements to look as if gliding. All eyes were on him, whether out of admiration, jealousy, confusion, or lust - eyes followed him no matter where he went, no matter what he did, who he interacted with. You lifted the heavy gold goblet to your lips, taking a careful mouthful of wine before setting it down, swallowing, and standing from your seat at the banquet table.

You wanted your lover, so, you got up to satisfy your craving.

You approached him as he spoke to a pair of noblemen, slowing your gait to ease your arrival and not cause a surprise. Your dress was something a little more alluring, more revealing than you'd usually wear, and as you approached the men, the eyes not belonging to your new fiancé nearly bulged from their skulls.

Daemon turned his head and saw you, smirking as his arm opened and he welcomed you into his side. "I was beginning to wonder where you got off to," you told him softly, one arm around his hips as the other planted your hand against his chest. "The Aunties have descended and are becoming insufferable, I fear I needed reprieve."

Daemon grinned, sounding amused, "It was a matter of time before they found you. Stick with us, darling, the Aunties will stay away."

"They're about to serve dinner," you told him, "perhaps we should find our seats?"

He nodded, looking at the men he had been speaking to before you showed up. Daemon bid politely, offering no other explanation besides, "Excuse us, gentlemen."

They bowed out of their Prince's way, letting Daemon lead you toward the head banquet table (again) where his brother, King Viserys, was sitting with other prominent members of court. The night had been pleasant, everyone rejoicing in the upcoming nuptials between you and the Rogue Prince. For years, he'd been something chaotic and shunned; and after the passing of his first wife, Rhea Royce, he was like a kite cut from string. Loose and set adrift. Wild and out-of-reach. And then you came back into Daemon's life after not seeing one another since you were ten-and-six, and all of a sudden, the Rogue Prince was something more domesticated.

It was a refreshing change, albeit totally uncharacteristic for Daemon.

Viserys was the most shocked of them all, constantly praising you for whatever you had done to his brother to reel him into a controllable pace. He thought you and Daemon were perfect for one another, likened you two to fit-together puzzle pieces. The King had been more than happy to host the celebrations, starting with tonight, an engagement party! You had to play part of dutiful fiancé and upstanding citizen since you were to inherit a royal title; being poised and collected at all times with either a calm, passive expression or one of bright entertainment.

"Here, love," Daemon whispered, pulling your chair out for you. He waited until you were sat before taking his own seat, sighing when he glanced around the table only to settle his gaze on you.

"What's wrong, my Dragon?" You asked softly, leaning in to place your hand over his on his lap; pressed into his side despite the wooden chair arms between you.

"Just amusing," he mused, "most of these Lords and Ladies had much to say about my first marriage, and now, they break our bread to celebrate us."

"Cannot be the first time someone's tried to suck up to you," you chuckled, moving your conjoined hands in your lap. "The dragon does not concern himself with the opinion of the sheep," you advised smartly, "they only tolerate the sheep because one day, the dragon will need to feast - hmm?"

Daemon smirked, "When did you become so insightful, darling?"

"I've always been, you're just pussy-whipped now that I make a lot more sense."

He laughed, letting a servant pour your wine. In your ear, he mused, "Jest all you want, but you were meant to be a Targaryen. Once we are wed, I will plant my seed, and bind us together for eternity."

"Our marriage wouldn't doing exactly that already?"

"A child is more tangible - it's a bloodline."

You shrugged as a plate of blood-red lobster was set in front of you. Viserys truly went all out - giving a wide variety of foods to taste. "A marriage is for life, though," you countered.

"So is a child."

"Until they are married off."

Conversation continued, flowing easily between the family members and patrons of court. Viserys looked pleased, enjoying the celebration as his ailment often caused him grave pain and he could not attend events. He hardly had reason to smile, but when he watched you feed a bite to Daemon, he let his lips spread without thought. Queen Alicent clocked the King's expression, glancing at you and Daemon, then smiled fondly before reaching for her husband's hand.

Throughout the dinner, Rhaenyra watched you and Daemon with a bitter glare on her face; jaw locked and lips pursed. You ignored her obvious displeasure in favor of your husband, both too enraptured with one another to ever pay attention to the Princess' distain. When the meal was over, the dancing, mingling, drinking, and musical portion of the evening commenced.

And cake. Cake was to be served.

Daemon's golden cloak swept around guests as you both played dutiful host for your party, and mingled with those who arrived tonight to celebrate your upcoming nuptials. You did your best to keep up with the plethora of Lords and Ladies, like Daemon did so effortlessly, but it was a lot. You still held your own, but by Gods, there was a lot of people in attendance tonight and there was noway you could remember any names.

Thankfully, while Daemon was caught in a conversation with Ser Gerold Royce, you eventually made it to a small group of familiar faces: Princess Rhaenyra, Ser Harwin Strong, his brother, Larys, Lady Laena Velaryon, and her twin, Ser Laenor.

You graciously received the compliments, well-wishes, and joyful greetings of them all, but acutely noted the Princess did not offer even so much as a polite greeting. "This dress was made for you, it's just darling," Laena complimented, petting the bodice. "It must've cost a fortune."

"It was a gift from Daemon," you told her with a soft smile. "And the necklace, too! See?" You showed her, "He had it custom made, it's Valyrian Steel with embedded jewels."

"The perfect combination of your Houses, and a gorgeous piece of art to hang on such a gorgeous neck," she praised, but it was Princess Rhaenyra's scoff of annoyance that peaked your interest.

You thanked Laena Velaryon before eyeing Rhaenyra. "Princess?" You questioned. "If I may ask you something, plainly?"

"By all means."

"Have I... Upset you in anyway?"

"You mean beside my uncle spending the Crown's coin to buy you something exquisitely made; being a fleeting, lady interest of the Princes'? No, no, nothing's wrong," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"What is this distain you hold towards me - towards my relationship with Daemon?" You demanded, the alcohol in your system spurring you on despite knowing the looming consequences of offering a member of the Royal family sharpened words.

"Truly? You wish to know why I do not fawn over you as others?"

"They do not fawn, oh - " You stopped yourself, sighing deeply and correcting yourself, "Of course I wish to know what the issue at hand here is, Princess, I do not wish for ill-will between us. I wish to resolve this."

"In truth, I simply do not understand it, this - this sham of a wedding," she snapped. "Daemon might buy you pretty things, but it's only out of guilt."

"What guilt could he possibly - "

"He finds you overwhelming, overbearing, suffocatingly clingy. So, with his distain, he, too, felt fleeting guilt - being why he showers you with gifts, it's for his own conscious. But if you ask me why I host such distain towards this union, it is because I know my uncle is not happy with your overwhelmingly clingy behavior. He's voiced his displeasure many-a-time. Not just to me, but to the King and Queen, as well."

You felt shell-shocked, acutely aware of the lingering eyes of the audience around you. You worried: how many of them had heard this rumor, how many secretly pitied you? Finding your voice, you managed to squeak out, "I beg your pardon?"

Rhaenyra only shrugged, "You asked, I answered."

"I see," you cleared your throat. "And your answer is that my betrothed has, what, started to slander my name behind my back?"

"Indeed. His chief complaint is how you seem to cling to him more and more, and he doesn't have the heart to push you away more than he already has. You're the one daft enough to not take a hint."

"And where do you get your information from?"

"Daemon, himself."

Your mind raced with all the little things: how Daemon would release your person during public events, avoid physical touch, ignore you sometimes, shut down your woes (call that gaslighting), how he stiffened at times you took his arm, how he seemed to shut down and only offer bored 'mmhms' when you spoke to him about your life. Your heart sank to your feet as you realized there were some truths to Rhaenyra's words.

You nodded slowly as Daemon chose that moment to approach your awkward group. His arm slithered around your waist, but you were silent as the grave and stiff as the corpse in said grave. Your mind raced with the idea that Rhaenyra could just be fucking with you, but the also with the idea that all she said was true.

"I'm going to retire for the evening, I've a headache," you told Daemon, finding an easy way out of his grip, "but you stay, enjoy the celebration. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am just tired."

He agreed and gently kissed you - sure to remain modest but still affectionate. "I'll visit you tonight," he muttered in your ear.

"No, I am truly tired," you told him softly but sternly. "We'll see each other tomorrow."

He hummed, "Then I shall walk you out - "

"No, you're needed here to save face. Go, mingle, play nice," you dismissed him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You bid whoever you came across a good and safe night; thanking them for their attendance tonight. After thanking the King for hosting the party, you disappeared, taking a few secret passages to avoid the main hustle-and-bustle of the feast. When you arrived in your room, you slammed the door, bolted it, and leaned against it for a good long moment. Your mind was reeling with all kinds of thoughts regarding your intended, his niece, all of it suddenly feeling very overwhelming.

You were exhausted, so, you swiftly stripped, unpinned your hair, refused your maid's help, and soaked in a long, hot bath. After, you settled into bed with a book, and tried not to overwhelm yourself with the anxiety tomorrow would bring.

About an hour later, you heard Daemon knocking at your passage door. You paused, not making a sound, hearing his muffled voice, "Love? My love, are you awake?"

You didn't answer.

"Please, sweet girl, let me in," he begged quietly.

When you wrenched the door open, you seethed, "NO!"

"What - ?"

"I heard plenty tonight from your niece. In your moments of frustration, you know what? Sure, complain about your woes - but to find out you call me clingy when in regard to my affection - that's not something I'm going to be happy hearing, Daemon!"

"I know, but let me explain - "

"What? What will you say? That you just needed someone to talk to? To vent your feelings? I get that - I really do. But you fully offered slander to my name, to our relationship; to who I am as a partner. Your poisoned words of your irritation is soaked into your family, in the courts. And now, I must endure the pity those will offer knowing my husband truly holds distain for me!"

"No, you've got it wrong, I don't - "

"Then why!?" You demanded, voice cracking. "Why say those things? Why not come to me and communicate you're not comfortable with this and that behavior!? I won't know unless you tell me, so, instead of talking your shit to the courts and your family, why not just speak to me!?"

"I should have!" He admitted quickly. "I should have, I know that, and it was my mistake, my love. But I regret it, I regret feeling so, so - I don't know! Sure, let's call it frustrated, irritated, I don't care, I just needed it off my chest!"

"I understand that fully, but being as we're to marry one another, I should be the one listening to you when you need something off your chest. You should talk to me. And if I'm the one you need to speak about, choose more trustworthy confidants that do not need further reason to despise me!"

"What're you...? What? What does that mean?"

"Rhaenyra, Daemon! Your niece, Rhaenyra! Every-fucking-thing you've said to her, she remembers, and holds it against me! You forget, when you speak to family about the woes of your relationship, that's all they remember. You get to make up with me, we get to move on, but because you needed t'vent to them, that's what they can hold against me. Do you even wish to marry me, still!?"

"Of course, I do!"

"Then something needs to change," you deadpanned, exhausted by this. "I refuse to be belittled, spat on, and disrespected by your niece any longer."

"I will speak to her."

"Yes, you will! This is far too out of hand! She has weaponized your frustration to drive a wedge between us, and she chose a public event with an audience to lob it all at me!"

"What truly happened with Rhaenyra? What was so bad?"

"Daemon, she called me out for 'being clingy' in front of an audience! At our engagement celebration! Do you know how humiliating that was!? I'm more embarrassed than angry!"

He nodded, "I'll handle this. I swear, my darling, this will be resolved."

"You know what?" You breathed. "Do whatever you please because I've realized something. Not only did Rhaenyra spew our business to others, but you... You said it in the first place. You said those words..."

"Out of anger - "

"But you still spoke them!"

"I was foolish to do so!"

"You are a fool for many reasons, Daemon, but this is one act I am not willing to forgive so blindly. Wear your jester hat all you'd like, but it will take more than pretty words to make this up to me."

"I'll do what it takes to fix this." He tried to step into the room with you, but you held your ground in the doorway. "My love, please, how can I make it up to you if you do not let me in?"

"You must find any other way to do this because there's no chance in any of the Seven Hells that you share my bed again - married or not." You offered him a look of distain, musing, "You know what, I've decided: I simply don't care what you or your family thinks. I am extremely proud of who I am, and there's not a soul alive that can make me feel lesser than. Your words hurt, they cut deeper hearing it from the Princess, but that's simply your opinion," you eased. "I refuse to modify myself, but it's good to know you don't like my affection - I can always reserve it for whoever I choose to warm my bed. What was it you said?" You quipped venomously, "Marriages are political arrangements?"

"Not ours," he snapped.

"Oh? We're so different, are we?" You laughed.

"Of course we are, there's nothing I'd change. Hear me? Nothing," he sounded angry. "I was a fool to speak out of term, but you're right, I should talk to you about it - I am simply unequipped to having a wife I've chosen."

"Oh, spare me - "

"It's true," he insisted, "what woman in my life has loved me as you do? Has encouraged me to be so - so - loving and safe?"

"Apparently, I've been clingy and not as encouraging as I thought."

"I spoke out of turn," he insisted. "You're right - I can't go and take back what I've said. But I will do all I can to ensure I change their opinions on you, to mop up whatever verbal mess I've made."

You laughed without humor.

"And I will set Rhaenyra straight about all of this, I will ensure she knows that there's no room for such tension, jealousy, hatred."

"You swear to clean up all your messes?" You wondered earnestly.

"I swear."

"Good," you mused, "after that, how do you intend on rebuilding my trust?"

Daemon blinked, "You do not trust me anymore?"

"Of course not," you assured, "not since finding out how you speak of me so hatefully without my knowledge. That's where trust comes in, Daemon, but you proved me wrong, and now, that trust is gone."

Daemon looked confused, mouth opening and closing rapidly, shaking his head, "No, no, no, love, don't do this. We're okay, all right? We're fine, things with us - we're fine. We're okay."

"Saying it doesn't make it true."

"Do not tell me," He snapped. "H-Have I lost you?"

"Mhm. Not saying you can't fix things between us, but as of now, there's nothing about you I can trust."

"And if you cannot trust me, can you love me?"

You paused, considering his words. Honestly, his betrayal was something that hurt worse than anything you've endured before. "I'll have to think about that one," you whispered. With a saddened look, you hugged the door, sighing, and bid, "Goodnight, my Prince."

"My sweet - don't shut me out. Don't do this."

"Find a way to make this all up to me," you demanded, "because I'd hate for either of us to eventually resent this marriage, too."

He tried to argue but you shut the door on him forcefully; loudly locking it from the inside to prevent him from following you. You felt yourself brimming with anger, but nothing was like the betrayal coursing through your heart and veins. There was no sleep that night, there was a lot of tears, a lot of pacing, and a lot of grumbling to yourself.

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