#unnamed strong daughters

[acewithapencil]

Lucerys meeting his loved ones in the afterlife ❤️🥲

[requiemforthepoets]

this is me trying 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: growing up, the only thing you know is that you need to be strong, provide, and take care of your sister. but being with oscar, it was different, he made you feel things—that it’s okay to not be fine, vulnerable, and to be taken care of.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have this fic finished the other day but i was debating on whether to post it or not, but here we are. it’s been a while too since i last wrote for oscar, and this is like a comfort (?) fic idk lol. also, can i just say that LANDO ON POLE FOR THE SG GP!!! 😭🧡 ok, i hope you guys will have fun reading this one. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, eldest daughter syndrome, no use of y/n, cursing, unnamed sister, named friend, and parents death

You were sitting in the living room, surrounded by case files and legal books, trying your best to prepare for the court trial that you’ll be doing soon, but your mind was elsewhere. You can't focus on the work that you’re working on in front of you, no matter how hard you try. Your phone buzzed, and you almost didn’t answer, thinking it’s just another work call, but when you saw Blaire, your friend’s name, flash on the screen you quickly picked up, expecting a casual chat.

“Hey, Blaire, how are you?” You greeted her, trying to mask your exhaustion.

Her voice on the other end was hesitant, not the usual warm tone that you’re used to. “Hey…I really hate to bring this up, but I was wondering when you would be able to repay the five thousand dollars?”

Your stomach dropped. “Repay?” You repeated, utterly confused. “What do you mean five thousand dollars?”

The conversation between you and Blaire unraveled quickly. She explained how she had lent the money to your sister out of need, thinking it was for you or with your approval. Rage bubbled in your chest, your pulse quickened, at this point all you can see is red. You thanked her hastily, barely able to end the call before fury overtook you. Without thinking, you dialed your sister’s number, the beeps echoing in your ear like a countdown to an explosion.

“Hello?” Her voice was casual, completely unaware of the storm coming her way.

“What the actual fuck did you do?!” You yelled, not caring if it was late at night. “You borrowed five fucking thousand dollars from Blaire without asking me!? How could you?!”

There was a pause, a brief moment where you could almost feel her shrug through the phone. “Oh my god, can you relax? It’s not like you can't afford it. It’s not that big of a deal, you can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making, it’s barely a scratch on your bank account!” You couldn’t believe what you were actually hearing.

“Not a big deal? Did you spend the money already? Do you have any fucking idea how humiliating it is for me that you did this without even consulting me? You think just because I make good money, I’ll fix every mess you create?” You were seething.

“Well, yeah,” she responded with a laugh, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation. “You’re my older sister. Isn’t it your job to take care of me, right?”

Your grip on your phone tightened. “I’ve been taking care of you your whole life! I’m working myself to the bone just to make sure you have everything you need, sending you to that fancy school that you’ve always wanted so you can have a better future, and this is how you repay me? By lying and stealing?”

The silence on the other end of the line felt heavy, but your anger has not subsided. She mumbled something that sounded like a half assed apology, but it was already too late for that. You immediately hung up and slammed the phone down on the table, heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. Anger still swirling inside you like a storm, the words of your sister still echoing in your mind. You can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making. Her carelessness, lack of respect—it hit harder than anything you had experienced before. It wasn’t about the money, you could handle the five thousand dollars easily, but the way she completely dismissed your hard work, as if it was nothing, as if your sacrifice and years of struggle meant nothing—that was what burned deep. It hurts like fucking hell.

You sat down there on the couch, trying to calm yourself down, tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. You didn’t cry. You cannot cry. You have always been strong your whole life—the provider, carer, and protector. That’s who you were. No one had ever taken care of you, not since your parents passed away when you were fifteen and your sister is only ten. It has always been you, alone, against the world, and now, it felt like even your sister was against you.

You didn’t hear Oscar enter the living room until his voice, soft but firm, broke through the silence. “Hey, I heard you from our room. Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, your body automatically stiffening instinctively and continued browsing through your documents like nothing happened.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” you lied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

Oscar walked over and sat down beside you on the couch, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “You don’t always have to be fine,” he said quietly. “Tell me, what happened?”

You exhaled sharply, your hands trembling as you ran them through your hair. “It’s my sister,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “She borrowed money from Blaire. Five thousand dollars. Without even telling me. Now, she’s acting like it’s my job to fix it.”

“Five thousand? That’s a lot.” Oscar frowned, his brows knitting in concern.

“I know,” you said, “she doesn’t even care. She just assumes I’ll take care of it, like I always do every time she gets into stupid situations. She thinks just because I earn good money, I’m supposed to fix everything.” Your voice cracked, and before you could stop it, the tears you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Oscar. I’m always the one fixing things, I’m always the one who has to be strong.”

Oscar didn’t say anything for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes filled with understanding. Then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. You tensed at first, still not used to being vulnerable, but Oscar’s embrace was warm, grounding. Slowly, your body relaxed into his, and the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little as you rested your head against his chest.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered to him. “I’ve always had to be the strong one. I’m tired, Oscar. I’m so fucking tired. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

His hand gently stroked your back, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know. It’s okay to be tired. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his face, “I just don’t know how to let anyone help me,” you admitted, voice barely audible. “I’ve been doing this for so long, I don’t know how to not be the one in control.”

“I get that. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore. I’m here. Let me be strong for you, too.” Oscar smiled gently, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The idea of letting someone else carry even a fraction of the weight feels completely foreign to you. But as you looked at Oscar, his eyes full of sincerity, something inside you shifted. Maybe, it’s time you let it all fall down, you didn’t have to carry everything on your shoulders all the time.

“What am I supposed to do about her?” You asked, your voice small but steady now.

Oscar sighed softly, thinking for a moment. “You have all the right to be angry and upset. Your feelings are valid,” he said. “She needs to learn that actions have consequences. But at the same time, she’s your sister. She’s young, and sometimes young people tend to make mistakes. You’ve been doing everything for so long that she probably hasn’t learned how to take responsibility for herself yet.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Yeah, maybe. But I can’t just let her think she can keep doing this.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you also don’t have to do this alone. We can figure it out together.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. Maybe you didn’t always have to be the strong one, the provider, the protector. With Oscar by your side, you could learn how to let someone else carry the weight with you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into him once more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oscar smiled, pressing a soft tender kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to find out, I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

The next morning, you stared at the screen of your laptop, fingers moving quickly over the keys as you finished drafting the contract. The legal jargon was familiar, comforting even, but the fact that you had to use it against your own sister left a bitter taste in your mouth. The contract was firm, direct, and laid out the consequences clearly: five thousand dollars, to be repaid in installments, with interest and penalties if the deadline is missed. You hated doing it—your heart never felt so heavy—but you knew it was necessary. You had been too lenient for far too long, if she didn’t learn this now, she might never understand the true value of money and the responsibility that came with it. It was time for her to learn the hard truths you had known your entire life.

Oscar was sitting across the table, sipping his coffee, watching you in silence. “You’ve finished it?” He asked gently. You had told him last night that you need to straighten everything out, and told him your plan, in which he quickly supported you.

You nodded, eyes scanning the contract one last time before saving it. “Yeah. She’s not going to like it, but this has to be done.” You sighed, “I’ve been too lenient, too forgiving. I can’t keep cleaning up after her messes.”

“You’re doing the right thing.” He said as he reached over, placing his hand over yours. “It’s tough, but you’re teaching her a lesson she won’t forget.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, glancing out the window, the weight of responsibility pressing down on you once more. “I’ve never been one to ask for anything back, but she needs to learn that she can’t just treat me like this. I want her to be successful, but she can’t rely on me forever.”

Later that day, you booked a flight for her to Monaco, and notified her about the flight schedule. She was studying in Switzerland, and it would be a four hour flight from Switzerland to Monaco. It was time to have this conversation face-to-face. You couldn’t keep allowing her to avoid responsibility just because you were miles apart. This is a conversation that is long overdue.

A couple of days later, she arrived at your and Oscar’s shared apartment. She seemed different—more subdued, perhaps. You could tell the weight of your anger still lingered in her mind. She greeted you cautiously, her eyes flickering to Oscar, who stood nearby, his presence calm but protective.

“Sit down,” you said, pointing to the couch.

She looked at you, clearly trying to gauge your mood, but she did as she was told. You sat across from her, with Oscar by your side, and the freshly printed contract lying on the table between you. The tension in the living room was thick.

“I had already settled your debt with Blaire,” you began, your voice calm but firm. “But this conversation is not just about the money. It’s about respect, about responsibility.”

“I said I was sorry.” She crossed her arms, trying to play it cool.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” you snapped, your patience was already running thin, barely hanging on by a thread. “I have been providing for you because I want nothing but the best for you. But what you did was careless, and you disrespected everything I’ve done for you. You didn’t even ask me before borrowing that money, and then you just blatantly assumed I would handle it. You do this every time to me, you always get me into awkward and humiliating situations.”

She bit her lip, her attitude wavering. “I know, but you make so much—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut her off, about to lose your cool but Oscar had managed to calm you down by softly caressing your back. “Yes, I make good amount of money, but that money just doesn’t magically appear. I have worked hard, harder than you can imagine, to get to where I am. Do you want to know what’s worse? What’s worse is that you’re not even thinking about how hard it is to earn that money, how I burn myself off everyday. So I’m making you earn it back.” You slid the contract towards her.

“What’s this?” She looked down at it, then back at you, looking all confused.

“It’s an agreement,” you said. “I’ve decided to give you the five thousand dollars. Consider what you bought from that money as a gift, because I know you’ve been doing well in school, and it’s been a while since I’ve given you anything. But this will never happen again. You owe me that money, and you're going to pay it back. Every cent of it, with interest.” Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off before she could even speak.

“This is not negotiable. I’m still going to support you, I’m still going to pay for your tuition, but you need to learn how hard it is to earn this kind of money. You’re going to work for it, and I'll expect proof—payslips, records—everything. If you miss a payment, there will be penalties added, and if you refuse or try to make a fool out of me, I’m not afraid to take legal action.”

“You’d sue me? Your own sister?” She stared at you in disbelief.

“Yes, I would,” you said coldly. “I don’t want to, but you’ve left me with no choice. You are already eighteen and will turn nineteen in two months, you are already capable of knowing what’s right and wrong. You need to understand that I’m not going to bail you out every time you mess up, this is your responsibility now.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Her face was a mix of shock and anger, but you could tell the gravity of the situation was already starting to sink in.

“I’m not trying to be harsh,” you said softly, leaning forward. “But I’ve been in your shoes, and I know firsthand how hard life can be. I have shielded you from that, and maybe that was my mistake. But if you’re going to succeed in this world, you need to understand that nothing is free, nothing in life is free. Everything comes with a cost.”

Oscar then leaned forward, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’re not doing this to hurt you,” he added, tone gentle but firm. “But this is a wake-up call. You need to understand how your sister has worked so hard, and how important it is that you start contributing. No one’s saying you have to do it alone, but you have to start doing something.”

Your sister’s eyes shifted between the two of you, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of guilt in her expression. She glanced back down at the contract, and you handed her a pen.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it. I’ll pay you back.” Her attitude and defiance slowly faded from her face.

“Good.” You nodded, “then sign it.”

She hesitated for only a moment before scribbling her signature across the bottom of the contract. You felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness, knowing you had to be this tough, but also hoping it would be the turning point she needed.

“You can stay with us while you’re in Monaco,” you told her, “but I expect you to find a job as soon as possible. If you fail to keep up with your end of the deal, there will be consequences. Understood?”

“Understood.” She nodded, though her expression was still a mix of resentment and defeat.

You exhaled, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you. This wasn’t easy, and you hated having to be this strict with her, but it had to be done. Oscar wrapped his arm around you, his touch grounding as soon as you watched your sister head towards the guest room.

“You did the right thing,” he said quietly.

“I hope so,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I just want her to grow up.”

“Don’t worry, she will.” Oscar assured you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “With you as her sister, she doesn’t have much of a choice,”

Later that evening, the apartment finally fell quiet, dinner was definitely awkward and quiet, but with your sister already tucked away in the guest room, the weight of everything you had said and done began to settle in. You were sitting at the edge of the bed, heart heavy and mind replaying what had happened earlier over and over. The way your sister had looked at you—hurt and angry—it cut deeper that you were willing to admit.

You had always been strong, but this strength had come with a cost. Now, sitting in the stillness of the night, the reality of your actions hit you like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just the contract or the money, it was the fear—the fear that in trying to teach her a lesson, you might have pushed her too far. That in being the disciplinarian, you had damaged something that might never fully recover or heal.

Oscar entered the room quietly, sensing the shift in your mood. He sat beside you, his presence had always been comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions you had been holding back.

“Was I too harsh, Osc?” You whispered, voice barely audible.

He frowned slightly, tilting his head to look at you. “No, you weren’t. She needed to hear all of it.”

“I know,” you replied, voice trembling. “But what if I lose her because of this? What if she hates me for it?”

You felt your tears welling up again, but this time you couldn’t stop them anymore. They spilled down your cheeks, unchecked, as you finally let go of the tension and frustration you had been carrying.

“I’m not being harsh to punish her, I just want her to understand how hard life is, how much I’ve sacrificed. But what if all she sees is me being cruel?”

Oscar pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you broke down. You rested your head on his chest, sobs coming in waves, guilt and fear crashing over you. You had always been strong for so long—too long—and now, it felt like everything was unraveling.

“She’s my baby sister,” you choked out between sobs. “I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want her to think I’m just some heartless person who only cares about money.”

Oscad held you tighter, his voice calm and steady as he spoke. “She won’t hate you. Not forever. She’s upset now, sure. But she’s young, and right now, she probably doesn’t understand why you’re doing this. But she will, trust me. One day, she’ll look back at it and realize that you did this because you love her.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening with the weight of your emotions. “I feel like I’m always the one who has to be the bad guy. I never get to be the one who’s just there for her, to support her without judgment.”

Oscar stroked your hair gently, his voice soothing. “You’ve done more for her than anyone else ever could. You’ve given her everything. You’re not the bad guy, you’re her protector, even when it means being tough on her. Yeah, maybe this will cause a rift for now, but it won’t last. She’ll come around, she’ll see that you’re doing this because you care.”

You pulled away slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” Oscar said firmly. “But even if it takes time, you can’t keep beating yourself up for doing what’s right. You’re teaching her a lesson that no one else will. You’re giving her the tools to grow up, to be responsible. Sometimes, that means being tough. That’s tough love.”

You nodded, but the guilt still gnawed at you. “I just wish I didn’t have to be this person all the time. The one who fixes things, who keeps everyone in line.”

“I know. But you’re not doing this alone anymore, okay? I’m here. Whenever it feels like it’s too much, rest on me. You can always rest on me.”

You leaned into him again, his warmth easing the ache that you’re feeling inside of you. “I just hope she understands someday,” you whispered.

“She will,” Oscar said softly, kissing the top of your head. “And until then, you’ve done what you needed to do. You’ve set her on the right path, and that’s what matters.”

As the tears slowly subsided, you felt a flicker of hope, knowing that even though this was hard, it was necessary. Even if your sister doesn't see it now, you could only hope that one day, she would understand that everything you did was out of love.

The weight on your shoulders became a little lighter, knowing that Oscar was right. Even if it took time, even if there were still battles to fight, you knew you weren’t facing them alone anymore, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to breathe. You had done what needed to be done. Now it was up to your sister to follow through.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (16/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece •female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, dirty talk, smut, the angst, murder, character death, miscarriage and the trauma associated with it, panic attack, mafia stuff, brutal violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn’t let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father’s mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra’s husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin’s brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She was pregnant.

Although, according to all moral and social norms, she should have been crying in despair, she was happy: touching her belly with her hand, she felt nothing but love for this little being that was slowly growing inside her.

The fruit of their warm, deep, sincere affection.

The knowledge that she was not alone helped her when it was time for her to meet the staff for whom she was to be responsible from now on. Aemond insisted on being with her, fearing for some reason for her and the baby, she, however, knew that this was something she had to do alone.

Their stares when she walked into the VIP room in which she had ordered the meeting told her everything – grown men and women who looked as if they had seen far too much in their lives watched her in disbelief.

She knew they thought with disapproval that she was just a little girl, a whore who had been given this place as a gift by their boss that she wouldn't know what to do with, pestering them with her stupid bullshit.

She sat down in one of the empty armchairs, a few people lit cigarettes and grunted, other than that, complete silence all around her.

"I know what you're thinking and you're right. The fact that I have taken over these premises is a form of security for me. In true, not only for me, but also for you. Aemond will stop the flow of drugs through these and two other places that used to belong to my father. I have no intention of changing managers or leadership, quite the contrary – I want to talk to you about what you need. I want this to be a clean, legitimate business that is profitable. No drastic changes." She said, looking at them expectantly, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

A few people twisted in their seats, others looked at each other.

Silence.

Obviously they didn't trust her.

"Think whatever you want about me. It doesn't matter. Know, however, that my stepfather no longer threatens you, and Aemond will still protect this place. All I ask for is loyalty. If there is a problem with something, come to me with it, not to my uncle, or he will be furious. Now get back to work, I want to stay with the manager." She said calmly.

All but one man who could easily be her father got up from their seats and walked out, leaving them alone.

"This is not a toy you can just pick up and have." He said finally, firing up the lighter, leaning over the flame with his cigarette.

"I don't see it as a toy. We can all gain something if we accept each other. Would you rather keep wallowing in this shit and selling ecstasy to young kids? Don't you have children of your own?" She asked coolly, and the man snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.

"I do. Three. Two sons and a daughter. Each of them works here. The sons as security guards and the daughter behind the bar." He said dryly and she swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on her back.

Fuck.

Had she just insulted him?

"You let your own kids do drugs? Do you want them to be arrested with you if the police come by here, as part of family integration?" She asked, and he sighed heavily, taking a loud drag on his cigarette.

"I didn't say that." He replied, letting the smoke out through his mouth.

"And I don't want that either. Help me protect you." She insisted, and he looked at her finally, as if he had made up his mind.

"You're just like your father."

She exhaled loudly, in an involuntary reflex she'd been holding back for the last few hours touching her lower abdomen as soon as the car door closed behind her.

"And how was it? Everything okay?" Her uncle asked, immediately grasping her hand in his, looking at her expectantly, tense.

"They are difficult people. Difficult, but tired. They don't want problems. They get used to it." She said quietly, exhausted and sleepy.

She looked at him, a worry in his eyes but also a tenderness from which she felt warm in her heart.

"Take me home."

The road to the sea was getting terribly long, perhaps because once in a while she felt an unpleasant twinge in her stomach, indicative of what was about to happen.

"– no – no, stop the car, stop the car –" She muttered, and he immediately pulled over to the side of the road – she only managed to open the door before she vomited on the grass, panting heavily.

"– oh, baby – why don't you lie down in the back seat? – you'll be more comfortable –" She heard his voice, his broad hand stroking her back.

Ever since they'd found out they were going to be parents he'd been so tender, so good, so sweet.

Exactly like he had been back then.

"– okay –" She mumbled and swallowed hard, wiping her mouth with her handkerchief. She unbuckled her seatbelt, climbed out and opened the door in the back, laying down on both passenger seats, closing her eyes.

"– sleep, little one – I'll drive slowly – we're not in any hurry –" He said, looking at her in the rear view mirror, and she nodded.

She flinched when she felt the car finally stop – she heard someone open the door, the fresh air and his familiar hands enveloped her, lifting her up, and she clung to him like a small child. He carried her into the house, to a room that belonged to him, where they had set up their makeshift bedroom for the time of renovation.

She felt him lay her gently on the bed, taking his place beside her a moment later, embracing her from behind.

"– you're tiring your mummy terribly –" He whispered, stroking her belly with lazy, calm motions of his hand. "– you need to let her rest –"

She smiled, allowing herself to fall asleep again, this time in his embrace. Her uncle often addressed their child as if the baby could already understand him – he was making a connection this way, realising that he was really going to become a father.

He was involved in everything about preparing for the arrival of their child into the world – they decided to dedicate the room she slept in that summer holiday to their future offspring and repainted it together, sticking cute glow-in-the-dark stickers on the walls in the shape of various planets and stars.

With some things, they had to wait because they didn't know if the baby was going to be a boy or a girl.

"It cost me a lot of money, but I made it. I have written permission from the Archbishop. Rhaenys, we can marry." He said to her one morning, holding a piece of paper in front of him that was to change their lives.

A dispensation for a church wedding.

"We need witnesses." She muttered, gripping his hand in hers. Her uncle nodded, as if he knew she'd said it.

"I know, Helaena agreed. I didn't want to decide about another person for you." He said, and she smiled, feeling grateful.

He became more open, more affectionate, always thinking of her and her needs too.

She knew who she wanted by her side.

"I know I'm asking a lot and that I'm not entitled to it. I know your father will be furious if you say yes, but… you have always been close to my heart. You didn't judge me. I wish I had you with me on this day." She mouthed in a breaking voice, standing alone in the bathroom with her phone pressed to her ear, wiping her face wet with tears.

She heard Baela swallow hard, shocked by her words.

For a long moment, they were both silent.

"– I – God – I've always felt you were in pain – only now I know why and I'm sorry you've been alone with this for so long – I don't want you to not have your bridesmaid on your wedding day – just tell me when and where –" She muttered and she burst out into a quiet sob, feeling relieved.

"– forgive me – forgive me for being such a disgusting person –" She choked out, whooping, feeling that she had finally described herself truly.

She had fucked her own uncle and was going to have a baby with him.

She was sick.

Baela drew in a loud breath.

"– stop – if he was your own birth brother, it would be much, much worse – on the positive side, he's actually only half your uncle –" She said, and for some reason she burst out laughing.

God.

"– right – it's a good thing I didn't choose Jace –" She mumbled, and Baela snorted.

"– exactly – let's stick to that –" She said.

"– it would be funny if the police burst into the church and arrested us –" She sneered, fiddling with the soft towel hanging on the rack, imagining commandos with guns ordering them to fall to the ground.

"– for what? – for drug dealing or for incest? –" Baela scoffed, and she giggled under her breath.

"– for everything – the list of crimes is long –" She said with a smile, for some reason feeling lighter.

It was the first time she had ever talked to someone about it completely honestly.

She shuddered when she heard a loud knock on the door.

"Rhaenys? Are you all right?" She heard his concerned voice.

Ever since he had found her in the bath then, he had been afraid if she stayed in the bathroom too long.

"Yes. I'm talking to Baela. She agreed." She called out to him.

"That's great." He said with sincere relief, as if he was afraid she would suffer another disappointment and rejection from her family.

They hadn't planned to invite any guests to the event, have a dinner together or anything of the sort – they knew that most of their family felt there was nothing to celebrate, and for them, as it wasn't a state wedding, it only had symbolic significance.

Helaena helped her choose the right dress – she wanted to look special that day, because even though their nuptials were going to be bittersweet, she was, in the eyes of God, going to be his wife.

"– oh – look – this one is lovely –" Helaena hummed, taking from the rack a long, white gown with a cut-out back and lace at the neckline and the ends of the delicate, long sleeves.

"– you're right – it would match the flowers in my hair –" She said, in her perfect image of herself that day wishing she had daisies woven into her curls.

Helaena dropped her off in the car at a shop near their house and they said their goodbyes – she needed nothing so much as a walk and some fresh air, however, she wanted to cook them dinner too, knowing that her fiancé would be back late.

Since he had started telling her about his affairs, what he needed to do and where he needed to go, she felt calmer and his absence no longer frightened her so much.

Besides, he wasn't leaving her alone anymore, she thought, touching her stomach happily, looking curiously at the shelves full of different kinds of pasta, searching for the perfect one for spaghetti.

She shuddered, having the feeling that someone had rubbed against her by accident, but then she felt that person holding something against her back.

"Be quiet and leave the shop slowly." She heard a cold, unfamiliar voice behind her and froze, feeling her heart leap up into her throat, a cold sweat on her back.

She looked to the side, wondering if she should scream, if anyone would help her, not knowing if this man held a gun or a knife against her body.

"Don't try anything or I'll butcher you like a pig." He said, as if he was reading her mind, and she swallowed hard, feeling burning tears of terror under her eyelids, her body involuntarily began to tremble.

She simply moved towards the exit, and the man she was afraid to look at put his arm around her like he was her boyfriend, clamping his hand firmly on her waist to make sure she didn't try to escape.

As soon as they left she sprang up to throw herself into a run, but the man grabbed her waist and clamped his hand over her mouth – she bit him with a loud squeal, but he only hissed, not letting her go, hiding behind the wall of the shop, two other men got out of the car.

One of them, a blond man with a beard and blue eyes had a scars on his left cheek.

"– come on, what the fuck are you waiting for – faster –" Tyland Lannister growled, and the man who was clearly his bodyguard forced her to bow her head and forcibly shoved her into the back seat, closing the door behind her.

She burst out crying, curling up as Tyland sat down next to her and the two men took their seats in front, driving away with a squeal of tyres.

"– shut the fuck up – be a good girl and no harm will come to you – I need to clear up a few things with your uncle –" He said lightly – only when she looked at him did she notice that he held in his hand a gun pointed towards her.

She pressed her body against the car door, looking at him with big eyes and shook her head.

"– please – please let me out, I'm pregnant – I –" She mumbled out and squealed, leaning forward, feeling a sudden, penetrating pain in her lower abdomen, and then another and another.

She began to pant loudly in terror, and wailed as Tyland slapped the back of her head with an open palm.

"– stop pretending – I told you to fucking calm down, I won't do anything to you – I won't –" He muttered and fell silent, looking with her at the drop of blood that ran down her thigh from under her dress.

She covered her mouth with her hands and screamed loudly, falling into sheer hysteria, the man in front cursed, telling her to shut up, and Tyland just stared at her, his mouth wide open.

"– stop –" He muttered. "– fuck, God, stop, stop, stop –"

"– here? – boss, we're in the middle of a country road –"

"– STOP, I SAID –"

The car stopped at the side of the road with a screech of tyres in a way that made her hit her head on the seat in front of her – Tyland opened the door, grabbed her ankle and dragged her out of the car like an animal, leaving her on the grass, then got back inside.

The car drove off.

She just breathed, whooping with tears, looking at the grass around her and the tree trunks, feeling a horrible warm stickiness between her thighs, twitching all over, not having the strength or the will to get up.

After a while some other car stopped beside her, the people inside screamed in terror and got out, a woman who could have been her mother ran up to her and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Good God, I think they raped her."

No, she thought.

They took something much more precious from me.

She heard his loud, frightened breath as she lay in the hospital bed, the policemen standing beside her grunted at the sight of him.

"Are you her family?" Asked one of them.

"Y-yes, I'm her uncle. Good God, what happened?" He mumbled in a breaking voice.

"Your niece was found by a woman on a country road, thrown out of some car. She immediately informed us, suspecting that a rape had taken place, however, the cause of the bleeding was a sudden stress-induced miscarriage. The victim does not speak and does not want to say who did this to her. Could you please…"

The man did not finish as she heard him burst into a loud, mournful sob, felt the touch of his hands on her body, his face pressed into her hair, his broken, heavy breath.

Her eyebrows arched in pain, a single, lonely tear ran down her face.

Daemon had warned her.

The hours, the voices, the smells merged into one for her – she heard her uncle's voice, her mother's voice, she smelled their scent and touch, she heard their weeping and despair, but she herself felt like she was dreaming awake, feeling and experiencing nothing.

She felt herself awake when she heard another familiar voice.

"Did she say something?"

"No. She's silent. There's no contact with her. She's in shock." Her mother muttered, and Daemon embraced her, looking her straight in the eyes.

She felt something – she felt her heart hit harder in her chest, her eyebrows arched in misery, her breath caught in her throat.

"– baby – baby, please, say something to me –" She heard her uncle's whisper and only after a moment did she realise that he had been lying next to her on the bed all this time, that he had been stroking her head, that he had been looking at her, that he had been crying like a little baby.

"– get out for a while – leave us alone –" Daemon said – her uncle opened his mouth, furious, but she spoke up before he could say anything.

"– I want to talk to my dad –"

Everyone around her fell silent – Rhaenyra walked over to her brother and took his hand, explaining to him in a whisper that they would be back soon, that she was no longer in danger, that everything would be all right.

She felt herself quivering all over when Daemon took the chair and sat down beside her bed exactly as he had done then, after she had tried to take her own life.

She looked at him, into his bright, piercing eyes, and thought that this was what he was trying to protect her from.

"I wanted this child, dad. Very, very much." She muttered and closed her eyes, feeling the blissful emptiness she had surrounded herself with begin to crack, the pain that pierced her body, her heart so strong that she sobbed.

"I know." He replied.

"Is the baby…is the baby still inside me?" She choked out with difficulty, whooping with her own tears, feeling like she couldn't catch her breath.

"No. I'm very sorry, but no. It was too early, the baby was not yet formed. Nothing could be done." He said and she clamped her hands on her lower abdomen, thinking she felt like ripping out her uterus and other entrails because they were useless.

She was full and suddenly empty again.

She felt her father's hand on her arm, his fingers strong, his embrace giving her a sense of security.

"I have abandoned you. I chose my own pride. I knew he would want to take revenge on him. If I had given you my protection, it would never have happened. Forgive me." He said, and she closed her eyes, thinking that she wanted to become nothingness and disappear.

Despite Daemon continuing to speak to her, she fell into a state of half-sleep again, unable to think about it – her mind was repressing everything that had happened and waiting, although she didn't know what for.

What was she actually waiting for?

For her baby, she thought.

Little girl or little boy will be born in a few months.

No, she realised.

Not any more.

Tears ran down her face, but no sound came out of her mouth.

She saw him – her uncle stood in the doorway of her hospital room drenched in tears, trembling like a small child, just like she had been when she came into his room then, terrified of the darkness.

Darkness surrounded him, and he was frightened.

She didn't want him to be afraid.

He cried out loudly when she reached out her hand to him – she realised it was already dark around him when his body snuggled against hers, when he embraced her and kissed her cheek, when his face snuggled into her skin.

They lay, just breathing, holding hands – there was something comforting about that – in his silence. The fact that he knew there were no words of comfort, of justification, of absolution for them.

What did exist, however, were their bodies, warm and familiar, clinging to each other to find shelter.

She fell asleep, wrapped in his scent.

"I know you think this is my fault. That you will never forgive me." She heard his voice as if from a distance – she blinked, surprised to see that it was already daylight all around her, that her uncle was sitting beside her in a chair, looking at his hands.

Days flew by between her fingers.

How long had it been since that incident?

Since when had she been empty?

She pressed her lips together, feeling nothing but rage.

"I want Tyland Lannister." She hissed in a cold, shaking voice, and he looked at her in shock.

They stared at each other for a moment – his lower lip twitched when he suddenly realised what had happened, something in his gaze that had always frightened her, but now pleased her.

Aemond

Emptiness.

It seemed to him that he had simply gone through all the phases of grief – from despair, through denial, to a state of complete indifference.

His child, whom he had so desperately wanted, was no longer there.

He thought it would help to give the baby a funeral, even though they had nothing to bury – that's why they put the glowing stickers they had stuck on the walls of the room that was to belong to their child in a small box and buried it under a tree in the garden of their house.

She wanted the thing that would remind her of their loss to be close by, so that she could look at it every morning from her window.

It was an ordeal they lived through together, and although they suffered, they found relief in each other's arms.

She let him take her for the first time two weeks after it happened.

Lying in front of him in his embrace, she took his hand in hers and slowly guided it down under the material of her panties – she surprised him with this, because he was convinced that the vision of him touching her like this would be something disgusting to her – she, however, was wet.

He couldn't hide how much he missed her, and after a moment they were both naked from the waist down, fucking each other like animals with loud smacks of their hips, wanting nothing more than to feel fulfilled and relieved – the release he felt when he finally came inside her was like a revelation, her body hot and sweaty in his embrace, her little cunt pulsing on his erection, sucking his seed.

I'll give you another baby, he thought tenderly, kissing her long neck, not saying it out loud though, not wanting her to think he had already reconciled himself to their loss.

I will give you another baby, and then another and another.

We will be a big, happy family.

If he could say that anything good had come out of this awfully sad situation, it was that their families had begun to talk to each other again – Otto and Daemon couldn't forgive the murder of their grandchild, and Alicent, Rhaenyra, Jace and Baela had watched over his niece in his absence, looking after her.

Even Aegon asked him for a meeting, which was strange and downright comical. His brother put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

"We're going to catch that son of a bitch."

The only person who was afraid to meet them was Helaena, blaming herself for what had happened despite the fact that neither he nor his Rhaenys resented her.

"She said she wanted to go shopping. Your house and the beach was across the street. I-I had the security guards go and take her dress to your house. She wanted to take a walk, she insisted. I…"

"Stop. You are not the one who did this to her. No one is blaming you." He said calmly, staring dully ahead, sitting in his car, feeling that his heart, his skin, his body, his breath were cold.

I want Tyland Lannister.

He licked his lower lip when he spotted his silhouette in the distance, coming out of one of the clubs surrounded by a few of his thugs, surely for protection.

Jason helped his brother move to another city, hoping they would never find him.

But he was wrong.

"I have to go." He said and hung up, starting the engine, dialing another number.

He never thought that he'd talk to him of his own free will.

And yet.

"He just left."

He followed him for a few streets, driving a few cars behind him, feeling strangely calm and patient – he had the impression that there were no more tears he could cry or screams he could shout.

His persona had come full circle, becoming again exactly who he had been before she had called him that evening for the first time in eight years.

He smiled, seeing that they had realised that someone was following them, trying to change direction suddenly – as he had predicted, they had fallen straight into their trap, and hundreds of loud gunshots rang out around the corner.

He pulled over to the side of the road and stepped out of the car, watching as Daemon's men slaughtered Tyland's men one by one, surprised by the manhunt from both sides, unprepared for such a sudden, merciless attack.

"– please –" Tyland mumbled, crawling on the ground at Daemon's feet – his sister's husband held a baseball bat in his hand, all dirty from his blood.

He thought with amusement that Lannister's face looked like a squashed tomato.

Together with Daemon, he dragged him, moaning and crying, to the boot of his car, locking him in there, and together they set off without exchanging a word.

By the time they reached the house by the sea there was only an hour left until dawn – Tyland had passed out in the boot from a lack of oxygen, and a strong kick to the liver revived him, making him draw in air loudly and cough, spitting up blood.

"– no – no, no, no, no, please, no –" He whined as they began dragging him along the ground towards the door, leaving a trail of his blood on the ground behind them.

When they walked into the house they threw him to his knees in front of her – his Rhaenys looked at his hunched, pathetic figure sitting in front of him on the couch in a white dress he was seeing for the first time, a knife in her hand.

Was this supposed to be her wedding gown?

I have taken away your purity and innocence, he thought with pain, looking at her with adoration.

Kora was no longer there.

Only Persephone was left.

His Queen of the Hades.

He longed to lie down at her feet and simply abide.

"– I lost someting because of you –" She said and raised herself up, touching her lower abdomen. "– my baby didn't even manage to take their first breath –"

He closed his eyes, feeling the squeeze in his throat, the pain he felt in his heart unbearable.

"– I didn't know – I didn't know, I'm sorry, I didn't know –" Tyland mumbled, because of how swollen his face was his words were indistinct and difficult to understand.

Standing over him, in her white dress, with a knife in her hand and with her beautiful hair loose, she looked like a ghost.

Like Death.

"– you threw me out of the car like an animal – you left me to die and drove away –" She whispered, tears one after another rolling down her beautiful, tired, pale face.

She had waited so long for this.

For relief.

For justice.

But no more.

"– please – please –" He begged, and she took a step towards him and knelt before him, looking straight into his eyes.

"– let me, Rhaenys –" He muttered, not wanting her to burden herself with this, to dream nightmares like him, to suffer like him because of what she had done.

"– no – I want to feel the life drain out of him – as it did out of me, then –" She said, and the knife she held in her hand stabbed into his side like butter.

Tyland wailed, grabbing the hilt, but Daemon held him down, preventing him from moving – he saw her slide the blade out, a huge bloodstain spilling down his shirt, dripping down his leg straight onto the foil-lined floor.

"That's enough. I'll take care of the rest. Take a bath and burn everything." Daemon instructed, laying Tyland's barely alive body on the ground, his breathing shallow until his eyes went blank.

His soul had left his body.

"Come." He said to her, taking the knife from her palm, placing it on the floor. He nodded at Daemon and grabbed her hand, leading her upstairs to the bathroom where the bathtub was.

Her entire dress and hands were in blood.

"Come here, little one. Come, let's wash it all off. It's okay, honey." He whispered, hugging her close, sinking his hands into her soft, smooth curls, and she reciprocated the embrace, sighing, closing her eyes as if relieved.

"Thank you."

Again she lay in the bath red with blood, again she was pale, however this time he felt that the life was not escaping from her, but returning to her – with each passing minute her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide as if her mind had returned to reality.

"Is he dead?" She muttered, and he swallowed hard, washing away with his hands any trace of what they had done from her beautiful, innocent body.

"He's no longer here. He's disappeared. He was just a monster from the wardrobe, nothing more, my love." He said quietly and she sighed, her hand touching his face.

"Do you still love me?" She asked in a trembling voice, and he looked at her, shocked.

"You are the love of my life. You need to rest. You are very tired. You haven't slept well in a long time. You're daydreaming." He replied, taking an unruly strand of hair from her face, her gaze warm and tender, meant only for him.

"Are you not disgusted with me? I've done something monstrous. I think I killed someone." She whispered, her eyes full of tears.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, pressing his forehead against hers, stroking her hair as if she were a small child. "– I forbid you to say such things – it will be our secret – mine, yours and your dad's – only we will know about it –"

"– about the monster from the wardrobe? –" She mumbled, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

Rhaenys

"– I'm scared, mummy – can I have my little lamp lit today too? –" Aemma muttered, but before she could answer her anything, she heard a voice from the bed above them, belonging to Visenya.

"– no, I can't sleep then –" Her older sister hissed, looking down at them, the bright curls she had inherited from her father in disarray.

"– I'm afraid of the monster from the television – the one from the horror movie that Aegon was watching –" Her daugther said in a breaking voice, and she furrowed her brow, shaking her head.

"– I told you this is not a film for small children –" She said sternly, and Aemma lowered her gaze on the verge of crying.

Vinseya groaned in frustration and climbed down the ladder, lying down under the duvet next to her little sister.

"– move along, coward – I'll kill any monster that disturbs my sleep –" Her daughter muttered, and she smiled and stood up, turning off the lamp.

"– good night –" She hummed and left, closing the door behind her.

She sighed, seeing the light on in his office, and moved lazily in that direction, finding him bent over documents. He glanced at her, then at the silhouette of her naked body hidden only beneath a soft silk bathrobe, and licked his lower lip with his tongue.

"– I'll come soon – give me a moment longer –"

"– talk to Aegon tomorrow – he mustn't let Aemma watch horror movies with himself because she is afraid afterwards – she's too little –" She said.

He shook his head, signing a few things.

"– I'll try, but you know him – he'll find a thousand excuses and explanations –" He grunted, and she laughed under her breath.

"– he resembles your brother –" She said amused, leaning her hip against the doorframe, and he snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth lifted upwards.

"– indeed –" He said and looked up at her, his gaze again escaping down to her breasts and then even lower.

"Come here. Sit on the desk." He said, leaning back in his chair, and she obeyed his command with a smile, walking closer with a lazy step.

He stood up as soon as her buttocks touched the tabletop, spreading her thighs apart, making her have to reach back with her hand to catch her balance.

"– ah –" She gasped as his fingertips sank into her fleshy, warm womanhood, collecting her sticky wetness.

"– since when are you in this state? – hm? –" He hummed, pushing her closer to him with an impatient tug of his hand on her ass, the other digging warningly into her delicate skin, trailing it around her swollen clit.

"– since this morning – since I saw you come out wet and naked from the bathroom in our bedroom – I've needed you, and you haven't touched me –" She mewled regretfully, feeling her walls clench greedily around nothing, craving him inside her.

What he heard was enough for all his foreplay, and with her help he quickly undid the belt of his trousers, his breath heavy and hitched.

"– after all, I fucked you last night – I had to drive Aegon and Visenya to training – you could have joined me in the shower –" He exhaled, impatiently releasing his long, hard erection from his boxers.

She sighed and tilted her head back as, without even waiting for her response, he directed the head of his cock against her slit, opening her wide on his fat length, filling her with himself with one, lazy thrust.

"– uncle – o-oh, fuck, uncle, yes, yes, yes –" She cried out, resting her hands behind her back, letting the material of her bathrobe slide off her shoulders, revealing her breasts full of milk, bouncing each time his hips pounded against her buttocks.

"– God, be quiet – shhh, be good or I won't let you come – is that what you want? –" He breathed out and she bit her bottom lip with her teeth, looking up at him pleadingly, something in her gaze from which he began to slam into her like mad, himself struggling to restrain himself not to moan.

"– that's what I thought – you come to me – ah – begging with those big eyes for my cock – and then you can't even fucking behave –" He growled and sighed, feeling her struggling to stifle a sob of pleasure when another thrust against that same sweet spot made her fall apart in front of him, panting heavily along with him, the next few loud, sticky slaps of their bodies were enough for him to cum with a sigh of relief.

They knew each other's bodies all too well by now and, with amusement, found more and more that they had trouble holding back from coming too early.

It was just too pleasant.

"– I'm pregnant –" She whispered, and he blinked and looked at her, as if he needed a moment to start thinking soberly after such intense fulfilment.

"– what? – but –" He exhaled.

"– I'm sure – I went to the doctor today –"

"– you lied to me –" He said with irritation in his voice.

"– Criston drove me there – I told you I would go shopping with him and we did after the appointment – no lies –" She said with a smile, touching her belly affectionately.

Her husband sighed, placing his hand on hers, the expression on his face calm and gentle again.

"– it's the sixth – what a big family indeed –" He hummed, and she laughed, nodding her head.

"– yes, my love – another child to drive to training –" She said amused, and he kissed her forehead with tenderness, from which a pleasant warmth spread over her heart.

"– don't sit here too long –" She sighed, jumping off his desk as soon as he slid out of her.

"– I won't –"

On her way to their bedroom, she walked into their youngest child's room and smiled, covering her little son more tightly with the duvet. Aemon's leg immediately pushed the bedclothes off him with his mutter of displeasure, so she gave up and left him alone.

She froze, spotting a silhouette in the corner of the room, thinking it was a man, with bright eyes, blonde hair and a beard, but was relieved when, after a moment, she noticed that it was the only shadow cast by the wardrobe standing nearby.

When she walked into their bedroom, she immediately turned on the lamp by their bed and waited patiently for him to return.

She knew she wouldn't fall asleep anyway.

When she was alone in bed, she saw his face and her hands sticky with blood.

When she heard her uncle's footsteps, when his warm body finally lay down beside her and his lips placed a soft, sticky kiss on her neck, she turned off the light, his whisper next to her ear like the calm hum of the wind.

"– now I will let you moan as much as you wish –"

"– Aegon – don't let her swim out into the deep water – Daeron, Visenya keep an eye on her, after all you can see she can't swim well yet –" He shouted to their children the next day, lying in front of her on a towel on the beach, little Aemon, sitting next to them, was building a sandcastle, the hot sun burning their skin.

"– okay, Dad! –" She heard Daeron voice behind her, lying on her stomach in her black one-piece bathing suit with her back cut out, reading a book, her husband's doctoral thesis on an excavation he had run with her in one of the cities the year before.

"– what do you think? – it's the last time for corrections – I've read it hundreds of times and it already makes me want to vomit when I look at it –" He said disapprovingly, turning his gaze towards the sea again.

"– it's the best doctoral thesis I've ever read – really –" She said softly, turning the page, amazed at how effortlessly her husband wrote.

"– look, mummy – it's a fortress, and here's the moat – and there's a dragon on top –" Mumbled Aemon, forcing the Mighty Vhagar figurine that had once belonged to his father onto the top of the tower.

"– beautiful, darling – it looks like the real thing –" She said with warm approval, and Aemon smiled broadly, satisfied, busying himself with creating a bridge over the moat from sticks.

"– Aemma, don't swim so far away – how many times do I have to tell you? –" Her uncle called out, raising himself angrily on his elbow, and she sighed heavily, throwing him a look full of pity.

"– she has swimming sleeves that are full of air that will float her even if she stops moving her arms and legs – she won't drown –" She said, and her husband sighed heavily, looking anxiously towards their children playing in the water.

"– I prefer to be sure –" He muttered.

She looked at him tenderly for a moment, feeling nothing but warmth in her heart.

He was such a good father.

Such a good husband.

She knew that one day they would have to explain to their children why they only had a church wedding and were not married before the state.

But not yet.

"So let's make sure. We should swim with them." She said, extending her hand to him, and he looked at her, apparently recalling their conversation in his car then, many years ago, when he had described his fantasy to her.

He licked his lips with his tongue and grinned in a way she loved.

"Come."

______

Author's note: The child that Rhaenys lost was Viserys: I decided that this story, because it is so dark, could not end differently, and the decisions of the characters had to lead to tragedy sooner or later. Something dies in Rhaenys, but thanks to this she can finally fully join her husband in their Hades, crossing the border of innocence and naivety, maturing in a kind of cruel way. However, the rest of their children, who appeared in the original series, are born. After losing Viserys (in this version they did not know that it would be a boy), they decided that they wanted to have as many children as God would give them, since he took one away from them (in their eyes one too many). Visenya and Aegon will definitely become mafia bosses in the future, just like their father, lol. Their children have the same characters and looks like in the original series, which you can see here.

[bluukive]

My Little Artist

content - SFW, please have age in bio when interacting, dad!gojo, unnamed daughter, affectionate father with not so affectionate daughter, daughter lacks a bit of confidence, daughter is around 5-6 years old, pure fluff

an - posting twice today but I HAD to get this out. This is more self-indulging than anything else since I never got to experience this. This was really comforting for me to write and I hope it is to anyone else out there who enjoys art, needs something fluffy to read, etc. <3

"What's that behind your back, cupcake?"

"I'm not a cupcake, dad."

Satoru grinned at the mini version of you both standing before him. Except, she was more prone to scowling more than he was. Her chubby hands were clutching a scrap of crumpled paper behind her back, tight around the little gift for her dearest mother and father.

It was well known that Satoru was an affectionate man and even more so a father. But his daughter?

Nah, not so much.

She's got his blue eyes, his snowy hair, but—unfortunately for Satoru—none of his clingy tendencies. He was lucky if he got a high-five without bribing her with a delayed bedtime.

Satoru crouched down to her level, resting his chin in his palm. It was quite comical seeing the freakishly tall man do so.

"Oh? You're not a cupcake? But you suuure are sweet like one, aren't ya?"

His daughter frowned, shifting the paper further behind her back.

"...no? I don't think so."

"Then why are you hiding something from your dearest, most charming father?"

God... even now, he had the most insufferable ego. Why did you marry him again?

Satoru pouted dramatically, placing a hand over his heart after a beat of silence. "Could it be… a gift for me, hehe?"

She scoffed, brows furrowing just a tad bit more. "It’s not a gift, dad." Satoru gasped dramatically, fist now clutching his fitted t-shirt. "You wound me! And after everything I've done for you—"

"You didn't let me stay up last night."

"Ah, but I did the night before, didn't I? Your mother would kill me if she found out, silly girl."

His daughter rolled her eyes dramatically, and Satoru took his chance whilst she was distracted. With a crooked grin and inhuman speed, he not-so-gently snatched the crumpled paper from her tiny hands, dodging her immediate attempt to grab it back.

"Hey!" she snapped, crossing her arms brattily as Satoru unfolded the paper. She immediately gave up trying to grab for it since... well, he's 6'3, and she's barely four inches.

The moment Satoru saw what was inside, his heart stuttered. His breath was taken away. His eyes twinkled.

It was a scribbly, slightly lopsided drawing of him—his spiky white hair, big blue sunglasses, and a wide, goofy grin. Next to him, a smaller figure with the same hair held his hand. It was obvious it was done with a blunt crayon, the lines haphazard and clumsily done.

But beneath it, in wobbly letters, was written:

Mom, dad, and me.

Satoru’s chest swelled, his lips twitching with how hard he was trying not to cry. He blinked back glossy tears, face scrunched with effort. "Awh, cupcake…"

"I told you, I’m not a cupcake." She huffed, shifting on her feet. "...it’s ugly. You don’t have to keep it," she added as well, digging her foot into the carpet with her head hung down low.

Satoru let out a loud, exaggerated gasp, tears long forgotten. How could his child dare to say that to him?

"Ugly? Jeez, are you kidding? Picasso has nothing on you. Van Gogh, WHO? I should frame this—no, I should take it to a museum!"

He lifted her up in his safe, strong arms, spinning her in a circle as she let out a startled yelp. "I’m printing a million copies of this, ya know. Gonna stick a copy on every wall of this goddamn house."

"Put me down!" she protested, smacking his bulky shoulder. But naturally, he didn't feel it. "Gah, you're so annoying, dad!"

"And you looooove me for it," Satoru sang, pressing a loud, obnoxious kiss to her cheek followed by a snicker.

"Ugh!" She wiped her face with a dramatic groan after he set her down on her clumsy little legs. But if you squinted, just a tiny weeny bit, you'd see the corner of her lips quirk up a little in a stubborn little smile.

Satoru chuckled, holding her close as he stared at the drawing again, his heart beating erratically against hers. He couldn't wait for you to come home to show you what a talented little artist your daughter was.

- End

[taeaura]

What would the dynamic in the family be if Thomas's first and potentially only child is a female? Will she have a hard time because of her circumstances, will she be regarded as more of an unwanted child because she was born a girl, and therefore, getting insults about being useless, or will she be handled with care?

This is a wonderful question!

How Thomas + The Hewitts Would React to a Daughter

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･.

Thomas:

Thomas never thought he'd have the privilege of having children, he was always focused on the job at hand. When that changed, however, Thomas was thrilled - Anxious, but thrilled. He didn't care if the child was male or female, they were his child, and he would love them as such.

Honestly, Thomas seems like such a girl-dad. Idk why, that's just how he reads to me.

In fact, he'd be more protective of a daughter than a son - Especially if she inherited some of his traits {such as his skin condition}. He'll love her to the ends of the Earth just as he would a son. I don't think Thomas would teach his children gender roles; He'd be more focused on their survival and fulfillment than some irrational societal performance. He never fit into society anyway, and he fit the gender roles just fine?

He'd rely on Luda Mae for a lot of parenting guidance: Doing her hair {by this I mean literally just taking care of it}, dressing her {as in finding clothes that suit her}, and discussions of puberty. He does NOT feel comfortable explaining that {not that he really could, anyway.}

What he will teach his child{ren} no matter the age or gender, is to be strong. Mentally strong more than anything. He wants his children to be able to survive, but not be forced to. He'd work himself to the bone if it meant his partner and {their} children could be comfortable, and safe.

He'd also sew his child{ren} stuffed animals, blankets, and some clothes - with guidance of his momma of course 🫀 He loves family very very much.

Luda Mae:

Gosh, Luda Mae would be in the seventh Heaven! She's wanted a daughter her whole life, having a granddaughter is even better. She'd offer to help with everything: Clothes, hair, babysitting, anything you could think of. And you know she'd be ever so protective of her granddaughter - Men will go nowhere near her without proving themselves fit {Thomas would hold the same view}.

Really wants to teach her how to cook, sew, bake, sing, and take care of the house - Traditionally feminine things, y'know? Luda grew up traditional, it'll most likely bleed into her granddaughter. She'll always call her "Sweetheart" - "Baby" - "Angel" - anything endearing and sweet, really. Very very affirmative of her granddaughter dearest 🫀

Luda will sing lullabies, read to her, probably invite her to tea with Kathryn/Tea Lady. She's a very comforting grandma :)

Now, I know we're having fun in la-la-land, but we gotta go back to TCM 2003 for a minute.

Luda Mae is a strong, independent, and direct woman. She will NOT tolerate ANY disrespect - Never. If her granddaughter acts out, consequences will be appointed.

Hoyt:

Now, I know what the immediate answer SEEMS to be: "Oh, Hoyt would hate that Thomas had a daughter instead of a son - He's a misogynist who hates all women!" And listen, I thought this too UNTIL I re-watched the TCM 2003 movie just to make sure. During one of the final scenes: 1:12:10 - 1:28:40, Hoyt can be seen peering over Henrietta and Luda Mae, looking down at the {unnamed} baby. He seems very affectionate {for Hoyt} - Smiling and cooing at her {Yes, the baby is confirmed female "She's mine"}

The truth is, I don't think Hoyt would mind it all too much. Would he have preferred a nephew? Yeah - But he loves his niece just the same. He'll teach her how to shoot, how to hunt, throw a punch, be strategic, and he'll definitely teach her a.."wide vocabulary."

He'd definitely be the type to say "this type of stuff ain't for women, young lady." For example:

"Now ___, I know you wanna get yer hands dirty like yer daddy and I, but this type of game isn't for little ladies like yourself."

Depending on how sassy Thomas' daughter is, Hoyt's tolerance for her will differ. If she's a foul-mouthed sassy sailor, Hoyt's patience will decreased as compared to an "innocent naive angel."

He's also..terrified, to say the least. He'll be wayyy more cautious about his remarks around Tommy's daughter - Afraid of how Thomas {and Luda Mae} will react.

Oh - and Hoyt will be one of the first to offer advice and protection for his niece, especially if she starts dating:

"He called you what? - Ugly? Hell, let's see this fella; See how 'ugly' he can get."

"Now ___, don't you be dating any soy-boys, make sure a man can take care of ya real nice, y'hear?"

He loves her, but he's not an affectionate {or kind} guy.

Henrietta:

God, she is so so so jealous - She's always wanted kids, but never had the opportunity to have some of her own. She'll definitely offer to babysit any chance she gets. She'd offer the same things as Luda Mae, just more often. Oh! And she'd be a wonderful..aunt? Second cousin? Idk what she would be in relation to Thomas' daughter, but she'd be wonderful at it! Always open to talk, and very very supportive.

{Uncle} Monty:

Would not care. At all. Leave him alone and he's all good 👍

"Stop staring at me with them bug eyes.."

"Girl, would you get me a beer?"

"Thomas! Get your daughter to stop taking my damn cane!"

"If you keep touching 'im {the dog}, he'll bite you."

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･.

Okay yay! Sorry for Henrietta and Monty's parts being short, I just don't see huge influence with the two of them - Plus Hen's basically Luda Mae 2.0, just less strict.

[novaursa]

Omg! Omg! Omg! I loved A flame torn and its second part! I love it! I love it! I love it! After reading both parts, an idea popped up into my head! Maegor and Visenya arrange a tourney for the reader's nameday.

They desire to find a suitor for her, a strong man, a capable warrior and one who can help provide reader with genetically strong children- ( if she's to be her father's heir when he takes the thone)

A lone knight whose identity is hidden bests all the competition and wins the tourney takes off his helmet and it is none other than Prince Aegon, the crown Prince ☺☺☺

A Flame Torn (unworthy)

- Summary: Maegor and Visenya organize a tourney for your nameday, so a worthy match is found for you. But instead of gaining something, you lost it anew. 

- Pairing: cousin!reader/Aegon (The Uncrowned) Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: a year too late

- Next part: broken

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

The sun shone bright over the tourney grounds. The air was filled with the sounds of clashing steel, the rumble of hooves on packed dirt, and the cheers of the crowd. This tournament had been called in honor of your nameday, but its true purpose went deeper than mere celebration. It was no secret to anyone present that Prince Maegor and Dowager Queen Visenya sought a suitor for you—someone strong, capable, and worthy of your lineage.

You sat on a raised dais beneath the fluttering black and red banners of House Targaryen, the Valyrian blood of Old Valyria represented by each stroke of the dragon emblem. On one side of you sat your father, Prince Maegor, his armor gleaming even in the heat of the day, his ever-watchful eyes scanning the field for any sign of weakness in the competitors. His presence was a wall of power and menace, casting a long shadow over the tourney proceedings. On your other side sat your mother, Lady Ceryse of House Hightower, her demeanor as stiff and formal as ever, though her sharp gaze rarely left you, a constant reminder of the duty you bore.

Further along the dais sat your grandmother, Visenya, her piercing eyes calm yet observant. She said little, but her presence was no less commanding than Maegor’s. She had long been preparing you for this moment—the choice of a match that would shape your future, strengthen your claim, and ensure your power.

Further down the line, separated by more distance than blood, sat King Aenys I Targaryen, with his family: Queen Alyssa, their daughter Rhaena, and the young Prince Jaehaerys and Princess Alysanne. Aenys, for all his softness, had no choice but to yield to Maegor’s demands for the tourney, especially with Maegor seated as his Hand. There was an unspoken tension between the two brothers, though Aenys' gentle nature seemed to make him oblivious to the true intent behind today’s spectacle.

As the first rounds of the tourney unfolded, you kept your gaze fixed on the field, trying to mask the disinterest gnawing at you. Knights from all over the realm competed, their skill and strength varying. Some jousted with grace, others with brute force. But none had managed to spark even a flicker of interest within you. You had learned well the lesson of strength from your father, and none of these knights seemed worthy of the legacy that your blood demanded.

Then, as the next round began, a knight rode onto the field. His armor gleamed, but unlike the others, he bore no sigils, no house markings. He was a mystery, his identity hidden behind the polished helm. His horse was well-bred, moving with the precision and ease of a steed that had been trained for battle. There was a collective murmur in the crowd as this unnamed knight took his place, facing down his first opponent.

Your attention was drawn to him immediately, curiosity sparking at the way he moved with a grace that belied his size. He bore himself like a man with something to prove, each of his movements deliberate and calculated. When the charge began, he met his opponent’s lance with precision, unseating the knight with such force that the crowd erupted into cheers.

Beside you, Maegor’s gaze narrowed, his hand curling around the arm of his seat. He leaned slightly toward you, his voice low. “That one fights like a warrior of true skill. He has strength.”

You nodded, though your thoughts were tangled. Something about this knight unsettled you, though you could not place why. His anonymity, his silence—there was a quiet intensity in the way he fought, as though he had something to hide. And yet, you could not tear your eyes away.

The knight continued to win his matches, cutting through the competition with a ruthless efficiency that made the other jousters pale in comparison. After his third victory, he dismounted to fight in the melee, where he proved himself even further. His sword flashed like lightning, parrying and striking with a fluidity that left no room for error. Every opponent fell before him, and soon, whispers began to spread through the crowd. Who was this knight who bore no sigil and yet fought like a dragon reborn?

“I want his identity,” Maegor muttered to Visenya, who nodded imperceptibly, her sharp eyes already narrowing on the mysterious knight. Your grandmother was not a woman easily impressed, but even she seemed intrigued by this man who fought with the kind of skill and ferocity that had made her a legend.

As the final round of the melee approached, the unnamed knight stood victorious against the last of his challengers, his breastplate dented but his stance unbroken. The crowd roared its approval, but he remained silent, offering no salute, no acknowledgment of the accolades. He simply stood there, waiting, like a shadow cast by the dragons circling overhead.

From where you sat, you felt the weight of his attention shift. Though his face was hidden behind his visor, you could sense his gaze fixed on you, burning through the metal of his helm. It was a strange sensation, unsettling yet thrilling. You refused to meet his gaze, keeping your eyes on the field instead, your hands gripping the arms of your seat.

Your father glanced at you, noticing your shift in posture. “Do you like what you see?” he asked, though there was an edge to his voice. His words were less a question and more a challenge.

“I do not know,” you replied, your voice calm. “I cannot judge a man’s worth when I do not know who he is.”

Maegor’s lips curled into something like a smile. “A name does not make a man worthy, Y/N. Strength does. And this knight—whoever he is—possesses both.”

Visenya leaned forward slightly, her voice as cold and sharp as the blade she once wielded. “A nameless man who fights with such purpose often has something to prove, or something to hide. Either way, we will know soon enough.”

The final bout was announced, and the nameless knight stood in the center of the field, awaiting his last challenger. You watched, your heart beating faster than it should have. This tournament had been meant to find a suitor for you—a man strong enough to stand at your side, to secure the bloodline of House Targaryen. Yet this knight, this shadow in shining armor, had unsettled something within you.

The horn sounded, and the final match began. But as the two knights clashed, your thoughts were elsewhere—on the man behind the mask, and what his presence here might mean for your future.

The roar of the crowd rose to a fevered pitch as the final blow was struck. The last opponent crumpled to the ground, defeated by the skill and ferocity of the nameless knight. The cheers echoed through the tourney grounds, but the knight remained still, his breath heavy beneath the gleaming helmet. He stood in the center of the field, victorious.

Your heart raced as you watched, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach. There was something unsettling about this moment, something you couldn’t place, but you knew it wasn’t over yet. The knight slowly raised his hands to his helmet, and the crowd fell into a hushed anticipation.

With a fluid motion, he removed the helm, and gasps rippled through the audience as his face was revealed.

It was Prince Aegon.

A stunned silence followed, and then murmurs began to ripple through the stands. Your father, Maegor, stiffened beside you, his eyes narrowing in cold fury. Farther down the dais, King Aenys leaped to his feet, shock and worry etched on his face.

“Aegon!” Aenys called out, his voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and fear. “What is the meaning of this?”

Aegon, helmet in hand, stood tall in the center of the field, his gaze briefly flicking to you before settling on his father. “I fought in this tourney, as any knight would. I have won fairly, and I seek no dishonor in doing so.”

But your gaze faltered, unable to meet his, your heart torn between the boy you once loved and the man standing before you now. Visenya’s sharp eyes cut through the tension like a blade, her gaze locking on you for a brief moment before shifting to Aegon. She could sense the storm that was about to break.

And then, before anyone could react, Maegor stood and leapt down from his seat, his heavy boots hitting the ground with a resounding thud. His presence alone was enough to silence the growing whispers from the crowd. He drew Blackfyre, the Valyrian steel sword of your ancestors, the blade gleaming darkly under the midday sun. The metal hummed with power, the threat of violence clear in the way Maegor gripped it.

Aegon took an instinctive step back, his posture stiffening at the sight of his uncle approaching with murderous intent. His hand dropped to the hilt of his own sword, though his hesitation betrayed the uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

“Uncle,” Aegon began, raising his voice so it carried across the grounds. “I won this tourney, fairly and with skill. This is not—”

“You have won nothing,” Maegor snarled, his voice low and dangerous. “You think parading around in armor, hiding behind a mask, earns you respect? You think this pathetic display makes you worthy?”

Aegon’s jaw clenched, his grip tightening around the pommel of his sword. “I earned this victory. I do not seek your approval—”

But before he could finish, Maegor charged. The crowd gasped in shock as the mighty former Prince of Dragonstone bore down on Aegon, Blackfyre flashing in the sunlight. Aegon barely had time to draw his own blade before Maegor’s attack collided with him. The clash of steel echoed through the grounds, followed by the sound of gasping onlookers.

King Aenys rose from his seat, panic in his voice as he called out, “Maegor! Stop this madness! He is your nephew!”

But Maegor paid no heed. His face was twisted into a sneer of pure contempt as he swung Blackfyre again and again, each strike heavy with brutal force. Aegon struggled to keep up, parrying blow after blow, but the difference in their strength was evident. With each clash, Maegor drove Aegon further back, his attacks relentless.

“You are weak,” Maegor hissed between strikes. “Pathetic.”

Aegon grunted as he barely blocked another vicious strike, his feet stumbling on the uneven ground. He tried to counter, but Maegor was faster, stronger. And then, with a swift and merciless slash, Blackfyre found its mark. The blade cut into Aegon’s side, and he cried out, staggering back as blood began to seep through his armor.

The crowd was silent, too shocked to react. Queen Alyssa stood with her hands pressed to her mouth, Rhaena frozen in her seat, and Aenys, helpless to intervene, called once more, “Maegor, stop this now!”

Maegor stood over Aegon, his chest heaving, the bloodied tip of Blackfyre gleaming in the sunlight. He looked down at his nephew with cold disdain. “You are nothing, Aegon,” he said, his voice like ice. “You always were.”

Aegon clutched his side, his breathing labored, but he met his uncle’s gaze with defiance. “I… I fought for her,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.

But Maegor didn’t flinch. He simply sheathed Blackfyre and turned away, his voice echoing through the silence. “You will never be worthy of her.”

As Maegor strode back toward the dais, healers rushed to Aegon’s side, but you could not bear to watch any longer. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest as you looked at him—bleeding, broken, and still fighting for something that could never be. The love you had once felt for him was buried now, beneath years of heartache and betrayal.

You gave him one last, strained glance, your eyes betraying nothing but a quiet sadness. And then, without a word, you rose from your seat and followed your family, leaving Aegon behind in the dust of the tourney grounds. The sound of your footsteps faded into the growing hum of whispers from the crowd, but you didn’t look back. Not this time.

Visenya and Maegor walked ahead, silent but victorious in their own ways. They had given you what they believed you needed—a suitor strong enough to command respect, or a lesson in what weakness truly looked like. You, however, felt only a hollow ache, knowing that, despite Aegon’s defiance, he had lost something far greater than a tournament. And so had you.

[huramuna]

downpour - oneshot.

modern aegon ii targaryen x nanny reader minors dni, you will be smited.

this is for @targaryen-dynasty sleepover challenge 🤭 i got the babysitter au + the prompt 'why so shy?' i had so much fun with this, modern aegon is a menace and also a sopping wet cat.

word count: 4.5k

content: smutty smut smut (specifics under cut), aegon being a little shit (we love it), saltburn spoilers (lol), allusions to drug / alcohol abuse and rehabilitation, mullet aegon, jaehaera and jaehaerys are hel's kids but they have an unnamed / unrelated father, gratuitous use of song lyrics, probably a touch of power imbalance because of her job

murder on the dance floor - sophie ellis-bexter

warnings: oral (m receiving), face slapping w/ cock, degradation, dirty talk (this man never shuts up), face fucking / deepthroat, cum on face

“Jaehaerys! Jaehaera! Please don’t run in the house with muddy boots!” you called fervently, trying to collapse the umbrella with one hand, two teddy bears slung in the other. 

“We won’t!” they both called in unison, followed by the unmistakable sound of muddy galoshes squeaking over the marble floor. You suppressed the urge to groan as you entered the exquisite home through the french doors that led to the backyard. 

“Boots off, little ones!” you called again, kicking off your own shoes in a haste to catch the gremlins before they tracked grime all over madam Alicent’s home. You had been working at the Targaryen estate for the better part of a year as a live-in nanny for Lady Alicent’s two grandchildren– twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. It was a wonderful job for the most part, as the twins were a delight and you had grown to have a strong friendship with their mother, Helaena. She was a bit dreamy-eyed and wistful, but was a wonderful mother nonetheless, even if she did have her melancholic days. 

The estate was huge and ancient, passed down from generations through Helaena’s father’s side, which was apparently a near royal bloodline from days long foregone. Viserys Targaryen, the father in question, was hardly ever home. He managed the family business (whatever it may be, you didn’t find it in you to ask– all you knew is that they were dirty rich) with his other daughter, Rhaenyra, from his first marriage. He had four children with Alicent, Helaena being the only one of the brood to still live at home.

 You’d met two of the others as well; Aemond, a lawyer in the family business who was, in short, all business and no play. He never regarded you, really, besides a quick glance or stiff nod. He had, however, slipped you a eight-thousand dollar bonus at Christmas time with a simple card that read;

Thank you for taking care of the twins and my sister. And keeping my mother sane.

- A.T

The other sibling, Daeron, was the youngest of the bunch, visited usually during holidays, as he constantly was studying abroad. ‘Sowing his wild oats’, as Helaena had put it. He was cordial to you and very much had a boyish charm, and Helaena loved to joke that he had a crush on you. When he had come home for New Year’s, he brought you a souvenir from Iceland, an authentic lopapeysa sweater, made from wool and sewn with a beautiful geometric design. 

“Awh, Daeron wants you to stay warm, lovey,” Helaena teased. 

“I-It’s just– her hands are always so cold, a-and the wool is supposed to help keep warm! The inner layer is insulating.” Daeron had stammered, the tips of his ears growing red. 

“Uncle Daeron has a brush!” Jaehaera squeaked, her words whistling through her tooth gap, she’d lost her first baby tooth just the week before.

“A crush, he’s got a crush!” Jaehaerys corrected softly. 

Alicent thought the whole thing very amusing.

That left one child you hadn’t met. You didn’t know much about him aside from small bits of conversation you’d picked up on between the rest of the family. Aegon. The eldest of all of them, and apparently the troublemaker of the bunch. You knew what he looked like from the portraits– blonde hair like the rest but with severely more bags under his eyes. Upon entering the home, one would see the chronological order of family portraits. 

It starts with Viserys, Alicent, and baby Aegon; the latter of whom is happy and chubby and bubbly. 

Then, it moves to the three of them, plus baby Helaena, with her wide blue-eyed stare at the camera. Aegon is still happy.

The next one adds the addition of baby Aemond– there is a glint of sentience in Aegon’s eyes, but he hasn’t experienced the crushing blows of reality yet.

You weren’t exactly sure, but as he got older, he became more morose– more bags, less light in his eyes. Then came the ear piercings, the tattoos, the head shaving, the bloodshot in the whites of his eyes. The portraits ended with this past year’s Christmas photo. Aegon was noticeably missing from it. You’d heard during one of Alicent’s phone conversations with her father that Aegon was in rehabilitation for a myriad of issues, and looking at his photos, you could only guess which one was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

A particularly harsh clap of thunder broke you from your thoughts, coming back to yourself. You scooped up Jaehaera before she stepped on the carpet with the muddy shoes. ���C’mon, let's get cleaned up for lunch, yeah? What do we want for lunch today, lovies?” 

“Grilled cheese n’ tomato soup.”

“No! I want mac n’ cheese.” 

The squabbling ensued, the twins arguing back and forth for a few moments before you butt in. “Alright, how about– whoever gets the floor the cleanest and puts their galoshes by the washroom the fastest gets to pick?” 

The twins squealed in delight as they absconded from your sight, effectively going to do your bidding for you. You would, however, just end up making both meals anyway. As you moved to the kitchen, the sound of the doorbell rang. You bustled to the door, not sure who to expect– there weren’t many roving visitors in and out of the estate unless Alicent was explicitly expecting company– which you had triple checked the calendar when you woke up that morning.

You opened the door, expecting to see a debutante or someone of Alicent’s social circle– ‘twas not the case. You recognized him immediately, seeing his mother’s face in his own. Aegon. He was muddy, dirt flecks splashed on his face as he stood under the stoop trying to get away from the pouring rain. His face was a bit healthier than you’d seen it, the dark circles were still there, but not as prominent. It was like a gloomy day, rather than a full blown storm under his eyes. He had the wisps of a beard starting on his jawline, and his hair was cut into a makeshift mullet, longer in the back.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, hands in his pockets. 

“Erm– the… the nanny. For the children.” you stammered, his tone catching you off guard. You glanced behind him, seeing a beat up dirt bike caked in mud– that was probably how he got here. 

“A nanny? You’re a bit young for that, yeah? My nanny’s were all wrinkly old prunes.” 

“Oh– uhm, come in, Mr. Targaryen.” 

He perked a brow at the name, but didn’t say anything. He beat the bottom of his boots on the doormat, which didn’t accomplish much. He immediately began to track mud on the floor. “Mum home? Hel?” 

“Lady Alicent is… upstairs,” you offered, following behind him at a quick pace. “Helaena is taking a nap– the storm–” 

“Yeah, I know ‘bout Hel’s issues with storms. Don’t need to tell me twice. So, you got a name, or are you just the nanny?” 

You gave him your name as you glanced at the clock– it was almost time for the children’s lunch and you hadn’t even put it on the stove yet! 

“Got any food around here? Fuckin’ famished.” he added then as he nosed around the kitchen, hands still in his pockets. 

“I’m just about to make lunch for the twins– uhm, I can make you something too if you’d like.” you walked past him, quickly putting some pots on the stove and starting the gas. You and the twins were on a strict schedule, and if they didn’t get their lunch on time, they would turn into hellions. 

“Sure. Whatever the kids are having. I’m not picky.” Aegon waved his hand behind his head as he disappeared from the kitchen and clomped up the stairs, likely to speak with his mother. You fretted for Alicent’s mental state once that was done, and you felt even guiltier for not giving her a heads up.

As the tomato soup heated on the stove and the water began to boil for the macaroni, you unlocked your phone– you were curious about Aegon and why he’d come back, exactly. Well, of course, besides the fact that he lived here (or did, at some point) he was still supposed to be in rehab for another three months. You went to instagram, rolling your eyes as you saw that his profile was on ‘suggested for you to follow!’ 

You clicked to his most recent photo, the first that he’d posted in over a year.

“Jesus christ,” you muttered under your breath as you put down your phone on the counter to stir the soup. 

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Aegon teased behind you. When the fuck had he gotten there? “Soup n’ mac and cheese?”

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese for Jaehaera, mac and cheese for Jaehaerys.” you responded plainly, trying not to notice that he was practically breathing down your neck. You glanced over as he leaned on the counter, where you had left your phone. Unlocked. Like an idiot. On his instagram page.

“Curious about me, are you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard enough about me from my mum.” 

“I don’t like to pry into Lady Alicent’s affairs–” 

“I wouldn’t consider myself an affair, more like a one time fling, eh?” Aegon snorted, grabbing your phone. It took every fiber of your being to not break all sense of decorum you held to snatch it back from him. “You’re not following me– let’s change that,” he mused, beginning to scroll through your page now. “Lots of pictures of the kids here– ooh, a trip to the seaside. There’s no pictures of you on here, eh? Only of… my family n’ other stupid shit, like the ocean.” 

“I’m a live-in nanny, sir,” you grit out, stirring the soup with more force than necessary. You consider yourself a patient person, and have become accustomed to how people in the Targaryen’s circle made their jabs. High society and filthy rich people had their own language of insults– ones that you wouldn’t realize they were insulting you until much, much later. It was like a game with a slow burning poison. But Aegon, apparently, was different. There was nothing meticulous about his jabs, no filter, no slow burning poison. It was all punch and sting, like a bite from a rabid dog rather than a viper. “I usually attend family trips.”

“Live-in, huh?” he drawled, his arm leaning over the counter in such a laissez-faire manner that you could feel yourself scowling. “Don’t get much action then, I take it? Let’s see if there’s any nudie judies on here, then…” 

“N-no!” you broke then, all sense of manners flying out of your body as you struggled to take back your phone.

“Why so shy? Got something on here you don’t want me to see?” he staved you off, a hand planted firmly on your shoulder as he scrolled through your photos, making all sorts of gaudy faces. You didn’t really have anything overtly scandalous, maybe a few lingerie shots for an old boyfriend.

“Aegon, leave her alone. Give her back her phone.” Alicent’s voice cut through the room like a knife, stunning both of you.

He sheepishly gave you back your phone as she crooked a finger to her son, ushering him to a room on the farther side of the house. 

As you fed the twins their lunch, you overheard some yelling, arguing and heated voices. You only saw Aegon later when going to your room to get ready for bed. His eyes were teary and red. 

— 

The next few weeks went by with some normalcy— everything was as usual, except it was like you had a third child to care for; Aegon. Except this child didn’t listen at all and had terrible habits. He was constantly flirting with you, but also would weave in jabs at the same time— you couldn’t quite tell if he even liked you or not. Not that it mattered, anyway.

You were sneaking in your own lunch one afternoon, eating scraps from the twin’s lunch while they napped— basically just the crust you cut off of the grilled cheese and the small bit of soup left in the pot. 

“You eat like a mouse.” Aegon said, always managing to be there to annoy you. 

“Too much food makes me tired— I won’t be able to keep up with them if I’m sluggish.” 

“Could always drink a red bull or a monster, instead.” he offered, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it in the kitchen. 

“You shouldn’t do that inside. It’s bad for the children’s lungs. Lady Alicent says—,” 

“Well, it’s my fuckin’ house too, innit? I can smoke in here if I well and bloody like,” he growled, exhaling a puff of smoke into your face. “My mum must be paying you extra to be my nanny too, then? The way you’re up my ass all the time.” he flicked ash in your direction. 

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. He was goading you, baiting you into a reaction. He was being insufferable on purpose. You could tell by his pearly white smile he currently had plastered to his face, like a smug little— 

“Never had a nanny so pretty, though,” he continued. “If I asked real nice, would you feed me soup? Dress me up? Give me a bath if I’m real dirty?” he got closer and you could smell him— the smell of marlboro reds and cheap aftershave that had become synonymous with Aegon blew out your senses until it was all consuming.

Your mouth parted as you tried to think of some witty response, some barb, some jab— but nothing came out. You just huffed and turned away from him in an attempt to hide your red cheeks. Why were you blushing? 

You could practically hear the cockiness ooze from him, his mouth perked into a cheeky smile as he stole one of the crusts. He knew he’d gotten to you. 

—

It’d now been over a month since Aegon moved back home and the building tension between you two hadn’t let up a bit— you constantly felt trapped and elated all at once. When you saw him, your chest fluttered slightly in anxiety and anticipation. What was wrong with you? 

It was a dark, gloomy day. The seasonal storms were in full swing, pelting the estate in rain and hail. Alicent, Helaena, and the twins were out on an escapade to Alicent’s father’s house— you guessed Aegon hadn’t gone. But, it was a huge house, so surely you could enjoy some of your time off without seeing him? 

A rumble of thunder shook the house, rattling its constitution— and then the lights flickered. Flickered… flickered… then… out. It was dark, then, even with your window shades open. You turned on your phone flashlight and tiptoed out of your room, going to see if perhaps you could smack the backup generator into working. 

You hadn’t expected to work today, nor see anyone, as Alicent had given you the day off. So, you were subsequently dressed in your pajamas— a hilariously oversized Bass Pro Shop shirt (a gift from your dad in America) and cat-patterned sleeping shorts. Your toes cracked and creeped on the floorboards with each movement, and to your chagrin, as you passed Aegon’s door, it opened. He was wearing a shirt that said “MILF: Man I love Fishing”, with just his boxer briefs on, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. 

“Oh. You’re still here.” 

“Yes?” 

“Sorry, thought you were gone with the rest. Sad, I can’t do the Saltburn thing now.” 

“The… what?” 

“The Saltburn thing? Dance around the empty mansion to myself with my cock out.” 

“What.” you responded with the most deadpan tone.

“Dance… with my cock out?” he repeated.

“No– I know what you said– but why?” 

“Why not?” 

You rolled your eyes, shifting the conversation. “So, the power is out– uhm, do you know where the backup generator is?” 

“In the wine cellar. Nifty, huh?” 

“... the… wine cellar. I can’t say I’ve been down there yet.”

“I know it like the back of my hand, c’mon then. I’m sure I can kick the old gen in the nads and get it to work.” Aegon said with surprising confidence, turning on his phone’s flashlight and half blinding you. 

You followed behind him, to which he hummed ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ while doing a half-assed dance, apparently from some movie that was definitely something you hadn’t watched– you don’t remember the last time you watched a movie that wasn’t geared towards the twins. 

“So basically… he had the whole mansion to himself, and then he dances through it with his cock out, hanging massive brain, y’know? It's murder on the dance floor, you better not kill the groove,” he imitates the dance, sprawling his arms out in the doorway to the wine cellar and shaking his bottom a bit, which was, admittedly, nicely fit in his snug boxer briefs. You felt a strange heat flush to your cheeks.

“And this… is a… what? Comedy?” 

“Well, categorically no– I’m not a film aficionado. I guess it could be considered a psychological thriller, but I thought it was pretty funny,” he stopped before continuing into the cellar. “It gets pretty hairy in here, so stick close, okay? Ever seen The Conjuring?” 

“... yes, actually. Horror movies are kind of my favorite.” 

“Ah, a girl after my own heart,” he mused. “Well, think of the basement in that movie, but instead of a bunch of old useless shit, it’s a bunch of old wine.”

“And… instead of ghosts?” 

“Oh, there’s definitely ghosts.” 

“... what.” 

“Yeah, estate is haunted. You haven’t noticed?” 

“Shut up.” you murmured. You were a huge fan of horror movies while simultaneously being a huge chicken shit when it came to scary things– you were prone to hiding your face before the big jumpscare or running up the stairs from the kitchen when it was dark, just in case something was chasing you– and your feet had to be covered by the blanket at all times when sleeping.

“Aww, you scared?” Aegon teased, turning to you.

“I mean– ghosts are scary. Of course!” you offered sheepishly, pulling up the collar of your oversized shirt to cover your nose and mouth in an almost hiding manner– a nervous habit of yours. 

“I’ll keep you safe, love, no worries about that.” 

“... that’s what they always say, right? Then they totally leave behind their girlfriends to get stabbed by the killer or… eaten by the monster.”

“You my girlfriend now?” he asked, that stupidly annoying and somehow charming smug energy exuding off of him in waves. 

“Shut up.” you grumbled as you both approached the generator. It was covered in dust and hadn’t been touched or tended to in a long time, it looked like. “Do… you know what you’re doing?” you asked Aegon tentatively, watching as he inspected it.

“Me? Oh, fuck no. I never know what I’m doing, honestly,” he shrugged, giving the metal box a kick and haphazardly pressing some buttons. “No dice, sweetheart. ‘Spose you’ll have to dance in the dark with me for a bit longer, huh? But, if there's a ghost, you'll be... ghost food, or whatever.” 

You pinched your brow in annoyance. “I don’t understand you.” 

“What’s there to understand? I’m a pretty open book, you know.”

“No– you aren’t. You flirt with me but also… insult me? I don’t get it.”

“It’s called teasing– picking? Picking on? Getting the goat?” 

“What? So, like a little boy pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground because he likes her? That makes absolutely no sense, Aegon.” 

“If you spend your time trying to find a reason for it, you’ll go insane. Why not just enjoy the point of it? I like you.” he breathed, suddenly very close to you. He set his phone aside on top of the generator, flashlight up. It illuminated the walls of wine and cast shadows of cobwebs and dust all around the both of you.

“What?” 

“Are you deaf– I. Like. You.” he repeated, his knees bumping yours as you were practically glued together, your back now against the ancient stone wall.

Your lips parted as you inhaled a breath– okay, you weren’t exactly expecting him to say that, or even like you at all– you figured the flirting was all hot air, a defense mechanism, something for fun, not… real. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you became all too aware of the fact that you hadn’t been touched since you got this job, maybe even before that– and your previous boyfriends never made you feel… flustered like this. You couldn’t form words as he, uncharacteristically cautiously, put his hand on your cheek. He was so close, so close– his body heat mingled with your inherent coldness and warmed you instantly. You weren’t sure what came over you, but you leaned forward, slotting your lips against his. What the actual fuck were you doing– you were kissing your boss’ son, her notoriously bad mannered, foul mouthed, sloven slob of a son, and you liked it. Your hand instantly went to the back of his head, fingers grazing through his choppy curls– even giving them an experimental tug, which he seemed to enjoy, by the indication of something poking you in your thigh. 

His lips moved against yours like a dance, and you couldn’t get the fucking song he was singing earlier out of your head– It’s murder on the dancefloor– you grasped at his hip, it was fleshy and pleasant, the tips of your finger slipping under the elastic of his briefs– But you better not kill the groove– his hands were exploring, too, under your stupid Bass Pro shop shirt, groping at your breasts with reckless abandon – If you think you're getting away, I will prove you wrong – the heat rose in your body until you couldn’t take it any longer, the two of you were practically eating each other alive in this dank, dusty cellar and it was undoubtedly the hottest experience of your life – I'll take you all the way, boy, just come along – your lips parted for a moment, still connected by a string of saliva, bridging the gap between the two of you – Hear me when I say, hey –

“On your knees for me, love?” he asked, his voice suddenly so deep and husky, his thumb skimming over your collarbone. 

You fell to your knees for him so quickly– how pathetic. He wriggled down his briefs, already leaking at the fat tip of his cock. He wasn’t overly long, but he was girthy, like a beer can. Your eyes widened, which he must’ve noticed, as his face was plastered with a shit-eating grin. Your mind immediately went to an image of a so-called ‘American delicacy’ (your father’s words, not yours) called Beer can chicken, in which a can of beer is shoved in the ass end of a chicken and grilled. It is apparently as delicious as it is horrifying. Your throat bobbed as you surveyed it, a tentative hand around the base. He shook his head, prying your hand from him.

“Nope, mouth only. Open up, be a good girl.” Aegon muttered, looking down at you, the light of his phone flashlight illuminating him from below– he looked like a God. Or maybe a devil. 

Your mouth parted as his hand guided you forward. You wholly expected him to nestle in your mouth, but he surprised you with a slap to your face with his cock. It didn’t hurt, just caused you to yelp in surprise. He smeared some of the pre-come across your cheek, then slapped the head of his length on your waiting tongue. It was somewhat degrading, what he was doing– but it lit a goddamn fire under your ass, the neurons of depravity in your body, wherever they may lie, were alight with each nasty little gesture Aegon gave you, before he finally slid home. It stretched out your mouth, prodding at the back of your throat. 

“What would everyone else think, hm? If they knew you were such a fuckin’ slut.” he growled, gathering your hair in his fist like it owed him money, beginning to fuck himself into your mouth, careful to pay attention to your body language to make sure he wasn’t working you over too much. He made sure to be extra careful with his toys, rather than break them.

Tears welled, spilling down your face as you let him use you, degrade you– and yet, he also praised you.

“–such a good girl for me–”

“–you can take a little more, there you go–”

“–prettiest throat I’ve ever fucked–”

You felt like you were on fire, set ablaze by arousal you’d never experienced before– was this what they sang songs about? Dirty, borderline pornographic songs but the point still stood.

You had to chalk it up to the barometric pressure of the storm, right? Aegon wasn’t your type— your type was… well-adjusted, non-addicts, non-bad boy, non-troublemakers. Aegon was the antithesis of what you were into. 

And yet— you were into him. You were into him in a pathetic, pitiful way. It made you cringe to think about but you couldn’t resist his puppy dog eyes, nor could you forget the way he was whimpering— fucking whimpering! You squeezed your thighs together slightly at the sound of it, at the blurry-eyed, teary sight of him looking down at you on your knees, eyes half lidded. 

He pulled out with a particularly throaty grunt, painting your face in his unnaturally warm seed, somehow careful enough not to get it in your eyes– small mercies. Your lungs inflated with oxygen once more as you caught your breath, trying to gather yourself. You felt the swathe of cloth over your face as Aegon cleaned you up with his ‘MILF: Man I Love Fishing’ shirt, which he had apparently taken off. 

“You good?”

You nodded slowly as he helped you to your feet, brushing off your knees with the clean part of his shirt. 

“Um– so,” he still held onto you, as if he was afraid you’d run away. “Do you want to watch a movie with me later, when the power is back on? Like, actually watch it– I won’t fuck your face, I promise.” 

“... are you asking me on a date?”

“Umm… yeah. I think.”

“Maybe we could watch Saltburn?” you offered with a shrug.

–

“Your mum texted me,” you whispered. “The bridge is temporarily washed out from the storm, they won’t be back ‘til tomorrow.”

“Do you know what that means?” Aegon said, suddenly giddy. You both had just finished watching Saltburn, and you finally understood what the ‘Saltburn thing’ was. 

“You know your mum has like ten security cameras set up around the house, right?” 

“Okay… and?”

“I’m not dancing naked in the hallway, Aegon.” 

“How about just in my room? Please?” 

You gave a sigh, beginning to take your clothes off.

“Siri, play ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor.”

‘Okay. Now playing ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor, as featured in Saltburn.’

It's murder on the dancefloor!

But you better not kill the groove, hey-hey, hey-hey!

It's murder on the dancefloor.

But you better not steal the moves.

DJ, gonna burn this goddamn house right down.

[vanilladollette]

Hello!

Can you write about jae-jun x female reader who just find out that he has a daughter that isn't biologically hers and she confronts jae-jun about it, lashing out on him.

Female reader is worried that he must've been cheating on her with Yeon-Jin.

Basically just like how Do- yeong confronted Yeon-Jin

Very angst please ..

(Take your time and I wanna say that I love your writing so much that it's unhealthy 😭 ♡)

The Secrets Kept Hidden

Pairing: Jeon Jae-Joon x Female reader

Summary: Your world is shattered when you receive a late-night call revealing your husband’s long-hidden affair and secret child, forcing you to confront his betrayal and walk away from the life you once trusted.

Word Count: 1.1k

Author's note: Thank you!! I'm glad you love my writing!

It never once crossed your mind that Jae-joon would betray you.

Your marriage, though not perfect, had always felt steady—solid in a way that made you believe nothing could shake its foundation. You weren’t naïve; you knew that love, no matter how strong, required effort. There were arguments, moments of cold silence, and the occasional doubt that crept into your thoughts during the late hours of the night. But through it all, you had never questioned his loyalty. Never once had you allowed yourself to think that Jae-joon could be the kind of man who would break his vows, who would look you in the eyes and lie without hesitation. You trusted him completely. You built your life around that trust.

Then the phone call came.

It was late, the kind of late that made you hesitate before answering. The number was unfamiliar, but something about the way the phone rang—sharp, insistent—sent an unease slithering through your veins. You stood frozen for a moment, your thumb hovering over the screen, torn between ignoring it and picking up. Eventually, curiosity—or perhaps some deep, unspoken fear—won out. You answered.

"Hello?"

For a second, there was only silence, just the soft crackle of the line, and then a woman’s voice. Calm. Collected. But beneath that composure, you could hear the weight of something heavier.

"Is this Jae-joon’s wife?"

A chill spread down your spine. The words didn’t register at first, not fully, but something inside you instinctively recoiled. Your grip on the phone tightened.

"Who is this?" you asked, voice wary, stomach twisting with an unnameable dread.

"My name is Moon Dong-eun," she said, her tone slow and deliberate, as if she were choosing her words carefully. "I have something to tell you about your husband. I thought you should hear the truth."

The truth. The way she said it made your skin prickle.

A dozen thoughts rushed through your mind at once. Who was this woman? Why was she calling you? Was this some kind of scam? A cruel joke? But beneath all of those thoughts, something darker lingered—a whisper of fear, of knowing, before you even had the words for it.

"Why should I believe you?" you asked, keeping your voice steady despite the way your pulse pounded.

Dong-eun sighed, and for a moment, you thought she might change her mind, that she might decide to keep whatever knowledge she held to herself. But then she spoke again.

"Because this is something your husband would never tell you himself."

And then she said the words that made your world crack open.

"Your husband had an affair."

The breath left your lungs. The world around you stilled, everything fading into the background except for the sound of your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

"You’re lying," you whispered, but the tremble in your voice betrayed you.

"I wish I were," Dong-eun said. "But there’s more. He didn’t just cheat on you. He had a child."

The words barely made sense.

"Her name is Ha Ye-sol," she continued, pressing the knife deeper. "Her mother is Park Yeon-jin."

Something inside you shattered.

You knew that name. Everyone did. Yeon-jin, the beautiful and untouchable newscaster, the woman whose face graced television screens across the country, the woman who always seemed to be perfect, polished, admired. She was the kind of person you saw from afar, someone who existed in a different world—one of cameras and flashing lights, of tailored dresses and practiced smiles. Never, not even in your worst nightmares, did you think she would be tied to your husband in a way that made your entire existence feel like a lie.

"They were close in high school," Dong-eun said, filling in the missing pieces to a puzzle you had never even realized existed. "I don’t know if they’re still involved. But what I do know is that Ye-sol is his daughter. And she was born during your marriage."

The room tilted. Your stomach lurched.

A child.

Jae-joon had a child with another woman.

And he had kept it from you.

The betrayal settled into your chest like a heavy stone, dragging you down into an ocean of confusion and grief. How long had he been lying to you? How many times had he kissed you, held you, whispered that he loved you, while knowing the entire time that he was hiding something so monumental?

"I’m sorry," Dong-eun said, her voice softer now. "I know this is a lot. But you needed to hear it from someone."

Your throat felt tight, like it was closing in on itself. "Why are you telling me this?"

There was a pause. Then, Dong-eun’s voice came through, steady and unyielding.

"Because you need to know who you’re married to."

The line went dead.

But the words lingered.

---

When Jae-joon came home that night, you were already waiting.

You heard the front door open, the sound of keys hitting the glass tray near the entrance. His footsteps were light, unhurried, as if this was just another night, as if nothing had changed. He walked into the living room and saw you standing there, unmoving, your arms crossed tightly over your chest.

His eyes flickered with something—confusion, concern—but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the panic you wanted to see.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice calm, like he hadn’t just shattered your entire life.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "That’s what you’re going with? ‘What’s wrong?’"

His expression darkened slightly. "I don’t understand—"

"Don’t." Your voice cut through the air, sharp and laced with fury. You stepped closer, your hands curling into fists at your sides. "Don’t stand there and pretend you don’t know."

For a second, just a second, hesitation flickered across his face. And that was all the confirmation you needed.

"How long?" Your voice wavered, but the anger kept it steady. "How long were you going to keep this from me? Or did you just think I’d never find out?"

Jae-joon exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Stop lying to me!" you snapped, stepping forward until there was barely any space between you. "I know about Yeon-jin. I know about Ha Ye-sol."

Silence.

Something shifted in his expression—something unreadable, something dangerous.

"Who told you?" he asked, his voice quieter now, more cautious.

"Does it matter?" You let out a bitter laugh, your vision blurring. "Because it sure as hell wasn’t you. Were you ever planning to tell me, or was I just supposed to spend the rest of my life as the fool you made me into?"

His jaw tightened. "It’s not what you think."

"Oh, really? Then tell me what it is, because from where I’m standing, it looks like you cheated on me and had a child with another woman."

Silence again.

And in that silence, you had your answer.

Jae-joon reached for you, but you jerked away. His touch—the same touch that once made you feel safe—now felt like poison.

"I don’t even know who you are anymore," you whispered.

And then you walked away, leaving behind the man who had already left you long ago.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

RoR x Lu Bu’s Daughter Reader?

Lu Bu has an unnamed daughter, only it’s Reader!

Reader is a mighty warrior who’s second only to her father, despite being rather short

However, Reader is actually a huge softie and a total daddy’s girl! (She adores and looks up to her father highly)

Reader is known for her incredible beauty, much to her father’s displeasure since many men came to ask him for her hand in marriage (He would beat them to a pulp)

Reader however has a violent side if the ones she loves are hurt or insulted (She becomes a demon from hell with murder and violence on her mind to those ones who pissed her off) her aura gives the feeling of death if someone foolish was to get in her way

Reader has a soft spot for cute animals, like bunnies but she also loves Horses, however she’s a total baby and wuss when it comes to bugs and runs to her father in fear (Her one true weakness alongside her sweet tooth)

Lu Bu while gruff is actually very protective of his daughter (He trained her to be strong and to protect herself)

-It was very surprising to many that Lu Bu had a child, more so that it was a daughter as nobody could really picture him as a girl dad.

-However, just like your dad, you weren’t to be underestimated. You were raised by your father to take care of yourself, from survival skills like hunting and fishing to combat.

-Lu Bu trained you himself in combat, not letting you quit and not letting you give up, turning you into a powerful woman that could handle anything thrown at you, so you could be safe. In his time, women weren’t treated the best and he refused to let that happen to you. He protected you, but he also gave you the skills needed to protect yourself, something you came to appreciate as you grew older.

-You both ascended to Valhalla, him first and you arrived several years later, arriving like him, in your prime and while shocked to see each other, he showed one of the rare moments when he was soft, only for you, and hugged you close.

-Many of the friends he had made in Valhalla were stunned to meet you when he introduced you as his daughter. To be honest… your mom’s genes were very strong, as you didn’t look a thing like your dad, besides your strength and skills, but you did have his eyes.

-You were quiet like your dad, but you were more approachable and many of your dad’s friends became your friends, especially after they learned how strong you were. You were proud to tell them that Lu Bu was the one who trained you and while he didn’t look any different, you could tell he was beaming in pride, proud of you.

-You trained just as hard as Lu Bu and you would never turn down a challenge, enjoying battling against strong opponents and always striving to push yourself further.

-You were a daddy’s girl, wanting to be just like him, being able to take care of yourself and many told you and Lu Bu both how similar the two of you were and how they respected you both.

-Lu Bu didn’t say it often, but he was proud of you, of your accomplishments and your drive. You were perfect in every way in his eyes.

-Was that a spider?

-Your girly shriek of fear was a surprise to many after you saw a spider and you immediately ran, “Daddy!!” panicking like a normal girl and leapt into your father’s arms, hugging him around his head as you were wrapped around him like a koala, pointing at the ‘fearsome’ beast, silently demanding your father to destroy it.

-Try as he might, for some reason the one thing he could never help you with, either with exposure therapy or ways to keep them away from you, you couldn’t handle spiders, even the tiniest ones make you freeze or take off running in fear.

-Many thought it was cute, seeing you react to something like a normal girl, but many were also smart enough not to mention it, as you were quite sensitive about it, willing to beat the ass of whoever mentioned it, and Lu Bu would be right behind you- nobody made fun of you- not on his watch!

[baddestbittyontheblock]

rhaenyra targaryen fic recs

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

 ೇ unthinkable fate by @thesithdiaries rhaenyra targaryen x female!reader | petty fights, its enemies to lovers and y'all know my inspo is kanthony from bridgerton, angst, arranged marriage, incest right?,

-“you will wed lady y/n velaryon, and you will do so without protest.” 

 ೇ illicit affairs by @laenordeservedbetter rhaenyra targaryen x female!reader platonic!Daemon targaryen x fem!reader, harwin strong x fem!reader (unrequited love) | angst (rhaenyra and harwin aren't together in this and rhaenyra has kids with someone else, but the father of her children is unnamed.), canon divergent, viserys slander?

-love is a battlefield and you are a warrior. years you’ve been traipsing around the battleground, expecting to not be maimed.

 ೇ if only you knew by ^ rhaenyra targaryen x reader | internalized homophobia (it gets resolved quickly), fighting, language

-You demand an answer to why the princess has been meddling in your affairs.

 ೇ nsfw drabble by @writingsofwesteros rhaenyra targaryen x reader | smut

-“shh, rhaenyra.” you giggled out with a shush as you looked over your shoulder at the closed door.

 ೇ you called by @buggyswritingcorner rhaenyra targaryen x reader | angst

-"you came."

"you called."

 ೇ nsfw alphabet by ^ rhaenyra targaryen x reader

-rhaenyra likes to be taken care of, that is not to say she won't treat her partner properly and wash their hair for them in the copper bath.

 ೇ my sweet girl by @newcaptainofsquad9  rhaenyra targaryen x fem!velaryon!reader | hurt, romance, comfort, smut(18+ only ,smut, dirty talk,  mommy kink, slight queen kink), 2.5k

-you’ve been distant from your wife, rhaenyra ever since she was crowned queen of the seven kingdoms, going back and forth from driftmark to kings landing all while growing quiet at small council meetings. rhaenyra decides to take matters into her own hands, flying you to dragonstone with her to give  of you the space you deserve while pleading with you to tell her what the issue is. 

 ೇ rhaenyra headcannons by ^ rhaenyra targaryen x reader

-being corlys’ bastard daughter in a secret relationship with rhaenyra would include...

 ೇ milf rhaenyra by @barbiedragon rhaenyra x wetnurse!reader | smut (f*ingering, l*ctation, n*pple play, mommy k*nk, and oral)

-where reader is a wet nurse for rhaenyra’s babes over the years. perhaps one night she is in pain, maybe a clogged duct or the babe is not latching right and making her rather upset. rhaenyra goes to visit her and assists her.

 ೇ milf rhaenyra by ^ dom!rhaenyra x sub!reader | lactation kink, mommy kink, fingering, praise kink

-“sweetling, are you going to use your words or just stare at me all day?”

 ೇ overprotective soft rhaenyra by ^ rhaenyra x little!gn!reader

-your hand is always in hers, fingers laced together as she keeps you close

 ೇ five ways to make cum by @whosdragon rhaenyra targaryen x reader | smut & fluff | wlw, mentions of oral sex, exhibitionism, mama kink, playing with nipples, sitting on face, mentioned homophobia, overprotective!rhaenyra, use of vibrators, sexual fantasies, mentions of voyeurism, wet and hot kissing, lots of physical touching, mentions of menage, praise, ordeal of orgasm.

-kisses are a trigger for her, wet kisses, with sloppy tongue, with her face dripping with saliva and slobber, she remembers the first time she simply got aroused just kissing you,

 ೇ a princesses order by @sl-ut rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader | descriptions of sex, slight hints homophobia, arranged marriage, 4.4K

-rhaenyra tries to come to terms with the fact that y/n is betrothed and will soon be leaving king’s landing, but it is much more difficult than she had anticipated.

 ೇ tension by @sleepparalysisdemon112 rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader | made up house, some unrealistic things for this time period (keyword FICTION) just fluff

-ever since you two met, you’ve always been more than friends

 ೇ you get hurt reactions by @milliesdiary hotd x fem!reader | "who did this to you?" trope, blood, kind of gory (?), fluff

-you get injured one day and your self-proclaimed "rival" has a problem with it.

 ೇ horizon by @delicrieux rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader

-grief is just love persevering

 ೇ daydream by ^ rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader

-rhaenyra always considered you her closest friend

 ೇ show me love by @aerysa-targaryen rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader | enemies to lovers

-at the start, in your younger years, you and rhaenyra were best friend, you almost consider her as the sister you never had. but everything change when your sister, allicient, marry viserys, of course, you were happy for your sister! she'll be queen, but because of that, rhaenyra start to avoid you, she does not understand how you can agree with this.

 ೇ black moons in those eyes of hers by @lotties-ashwagandha rhaenyra targaryen x redpriestess!reader | 1k+

-you listened as the church bell chimed above the red keep. it taunted you, mocking your greatest fears and greatest prides.

 ೇ gods and masters by ^ rhaenyra targaryen x reader

-rhaenyra being jealous of alicent cause she thinks she’s into reader

 ೇ goddess of the skies by ^ rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader

-the deep sapphire abyss of the sky hung above you. you watched as soft clouds made their way across its endless expanse, their pace slow and steady, peace engulfing them completely. 

 ೇ pleasure by @artemiscrocksgf rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader | mature, explicit 18+ (minors DNI) nsfw (smut, some explicit language, fingering (receiving and giving), oral female), 2.5k

-“there are other means of pleasure”

 ೇ hers only hers by @rhaenerystargaryen rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader | mentions of being harassed

-rhaenyra comes to your rescue after an awful encounter with a knight, but can't help but feel a certain sense of possessiveness over you.

 ೇ little dove by ^ rhaenyra targaryen x mute!fem!reader

-rhaenyra wants your attention, so the two of you play a game

 ೇ rhaenyra fic by @marvelcriminalhoe  rhaenyra targaryen x handmaiden!reader | power imbalance (which could lean towards dub con but reader is entirely willing.) talks of political marriages. oral (Fem receiving.) kissing, groping, declarations of love, 3.2k

-“touch me there. right there.”

 ೇ the archer by @epiphany-of-a-madwoman rhaenyra targaryen x reader | angst and comfort

-all of rhaenyra's enemies started as friends and she's terrified you'll be next.

 ೇ rainy mornings by @gtgbabie0 rhaenyra targaryen x reader

-you and rhaenyra enjoy a peaceful morning together

 ೇ yes, my leige by @scarletwidowsbaby rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader | fluff, bit of smutverbal fighting, blood, Rhaenyra tries to kill you in annoyance, light smut, groping, breast play. 18+ only, minors dni.

-after seeing the new caretaker for syrax, rhaenyra decides she wants her.

 ೇ three-headed dragon by @arabellasleopardcoat rhaenyra targaryen x reader | Implied smut. dance of the dragons. canon character death (Not Rhaenyra)

-three times rhaenyra marked you, and one time you did too. or snippets of the love story I so wanted to tell but didn’t feel confident enough to write.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Poetry Analysis: "She walks in beauty, like the night"

She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron

British poet Lord Byron is recognised as one of the most prominent figures in Romanticism - an artistic movement which swept the poetry and literary sphere during the late 18th and early 19th Century. 

‘She Walks in Beauty,’ is one of his shorter but most famous poems that seeks to capture a sense of and celebrate the beauty of an unnamed woman.

The opening line - and perhaps the two most famous poetry lines that Byron has ever written; ‘she walks in beauty, like night’ - sets the scene for the rest of the poem, comparing this unknown woman to the awe and beauty that comes from a clear night sky:

‘She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes…’

Using the simile, Byron indicates that her beauty is not purely physical either; instead, it is almost an aura, an innocent unawareness that surrounds her. 

It is interesting to note here that the poet is describing his beloved’s beauty as comparable to night, rather than daylight. In fact, later in the poem he describes the daylight as “gaudy.” This is a common aspect of Romantic poetry, where writers would compare people not just to nature, but to ‘bright nature.’ In this line especially, Byron is comparing his lover to the ‘bright’ night sky. 

This association can be a nod to the historic Greek ideal, where beauty is so strong that it can almost be catastrophic. For example, Helen of Troy, daughter of Zeus, was one such beauty; a divine being whose enchanting looks were an indirect cause of the Trojan War. 

Byron seems to be describing his beloved’s love comparable to the highest of the high - indicating the strength of his feelings and adoration of this unnamed woman’s looks.

If this inspires your writing, do tag me. Or send me a link. I'd love to read your work!

[huckleberryblossom]

rue macnamara and her currently unnamed daughter (ill think of something eventually, rip)

(a whole lot about wotb under the cut)

the way wotb handles disability is um. not great. i think lasky tried to balance an empowering take (multiple times in the series a gnaw wolf's greatest talent is somehow related to/because of their disability, they just dont ever get the chance to utilize it because of Wolf LawTM) with the "accurate" representation of wolf pack structure, but in today's day it really just comes across as a tired representation of disability. and also i just dont think it was ever very good to begin with, because it was just introduced as the way of the world and nothing was done with it, beyond faolan's identity struggles (and edme's, later). and as far as ive gotten in the books, he simply escapes his problems by going to the watch, and iirc, he doesnt feel at home there either. hamish didnt, and says as much to coryn, all he'd ever wanted was to be an equal. which is like, fucked up! and could have been interesting to explore further, but isnt ever. instead theres a bear war, i guess

im not fully finished with my reread of wotb, so my opinion on this might change a little, but man. i think it was a big missed opportunity to set up what is actually just eugenics and then try to navigate around it by slapping a few "your disabilities make you strong :)" here and there on top of it. like! the macduncans couldve revered faolan for jumping the wall of fire, if shadow wolf was about faolan earning his "place" in the clan then they shouldve been behind him after that, his strength was recognized but never utilized. maybe they couldve gone hey, maybe its a little fucked up to send newborns to designated places to die like its an artform and then banish both of their parents, and if they happen to survive we let them stay but only as the lowest ranking member of the pack forever. its made even worse by the fact that faolan SEETHES about it! he recognizes that he's better than this treatment, he just gets used to it! its upsetting to see these threads just let go in favor of other plotlines, because faolan is so passionate of a main character, and horrible injustices are introduced and just forgotten about, because theyre accepted as the way things are.

so idk. i think that conflict is interesting and as someone with disabilities that make my daily life fucking harder, i kind of dont want to just wipe away all those parts of the culture, even as shitty as they are. but im not about to rewrite wotb or anything, so im just going to make some ocs and let them do it. theres some things ill probably get rid of completely (like the ember healing the watch, and the obeas) but for the most part i think i want to tackle the society naturally, within the story of the ocs. also, this doesnt have much to do with the rest of this post, but lasky loves to do "evil family" and its very apparent with the wolves, bc hundreds of years later the macheaths are still naturally evil! so i probably will be addressing that as well, in the way wolves move from clan to clan

i just felt like it needed to be addressed if i was going to start posting wotb ocs, since its just. well its just a mess all around

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (1/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest but they were unaware children, kissing, the angst, stalking, woman on the rape pill, drug trade ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When he needed to calm down before a meeting with clients or a brutal explanation of certain matters, he would lock himself in some room or his car, close his eyes and return with his thoughts to that summer holiday.

First he would always hear the sound of the sea, and then he would see the beach and the setting sun all around him, somewhere in the distance hearing her laughter.

It was their first and last trip together, which had obviously been his father's idea. He thought it would be a good way to cool a bit of tension in the family and invited his daughter from his first marriage to join them at their summer residence along with her partner, Harwin Strong, her former bodyguard, and their children.

The locals called their house ‘King's Landing’, because in fact the building looked like some kind of modern palace, with a huge garden, a private beach access and a small harbour with their sailboats and scooters.

He had never wondered where his father got money to buy such a great mansion: he thought that he had earned it all and the others had not and that was why they were poor.

Neither he nor his brother were thrilled with the idea: they did not want to share their toys or rooms with the Strongs, which, although they usually stood empty, were sometimes used for playing. Despite their verbal expressions of displeasure, Rhaenyra arrived with her partner and children in a large black Mercedes, disturbing, in his mind, their peace and order.

For the first few days, he simply tried to pretend he hadn't seen them: he would go for solitary hikes along the beach, looking for treasures in the sand, thinking he envied Helaena, who instead of joining them decided to spend her holiday with her friend and could do whatever she wanted.

Their mother allowed them to swim in the sea as long as they didn't swim too far away from the shore, and the smallest children, namely Luke and his sister, wore plastic shoulder pads filled with air to make them float.

Every little thing that made him better than his brother or nephews made him feel superior, so when he noticed that he swam the best out of all five of them, he showed it off by diving underwater once in a while only to emerge somewhere much further away. Their sister was most impressed by this, asking him to teach her how to do it, but he paid no attention to her.

The little squealing girls did not interest him, but Jace's face full of displeasure did.

He grinned in a way that made the eldest Strong's lips pressed together into a thin line and saw him swimming towards him.

He was sure that Jace would just want to hit him or sub him, so he prepared to put up aggressive resistance if necessary, he surprised him completely, however, by pulling his shorts off his legs.

He laughed out loud as he threw himself after him, trying to snatch it from him, fruitlessly, Aegon seeing this, shouted:

"– c'mon, hand it to me! –" He called out and indeed, Jace did so, making his opportunity to retrieve his stolen clothes move away from him towards the shore with them and Luke who also laughed thinking, apparently, that it was a very funny joke.

"– stop it! –" Their sister squealed, being the only one to stay in the water with him.

It was the first time he had felt so humiliated, frightened and lonely – although Aegon often teased him, this time it was something completely different.

His older brother came ashore, waving his shorts.

"Come and get them!" He laughed, throwing them somewhere far out on the sand so that he would have to run naked many metres before he could even reach them. His niece looked up at him, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

"– wait – wait, I'll get them for you in a minute –" She called out, moving towards the shore, getting out of the water at last and running across the sand – Aegon, Jace and Luke watched her efforts from afar, laughing loudly.

As much as he didn't want to, as much as he tried to stop himself, he burst out into a loud sob, ashamed, sad and bitter, standing in water up to his waist and not moving from his place, wanting to just drown and die.

He finally heard a splash – his niece was swimming towards him with his clothes in her hand, reaching out to him. He snatched his shorts from her in an aggressive, furious motion, whooping with his tears.

"– if you tell anyone about this –" He hissed.

"– no – no, please don't cry –"

"– fuck off –" He growled, pushing her away for some reason, furious that she had seen his outburst of despair, the fact that he was crying like a little girl.

He put his shorts back on and stepped out of the water, heading immediately towards home, paying no attention to Aegon's screams for him to come back, for them to go riding their bikes together, that it was just a joke.

He spent the rest of the day in his room reading history books. He liked to imagine that he was someone else: a great scientist, explorer, king, prince or knight. As he read stories about the great, terrifying dragon Vhagar, he thought he would like to have such a creature for himself, so that he could burn his brother and his nephews.

He answered his mother's questions about what had happened in a perfunctory manner – he knew his brother would take revenge on him if he said too much and he didn't feel like causing any more trouble.

He shuddered at night, roused from a deep sleep when he heard someone's steps in the corridor.

He feared it was them, that they were once again trying to make a mockery of him.

He rose up on his arms, terrified, when the door to his room opened with a loud creak.

"– Aemond? –" He heard her quiet mumble, even barely able to see her silhouette in the darkness he could tell she was crying.

"– can I sleep with you? –"

"– you must be crazy –" He hissed.

His reply made her draw in air loudly, whooping apparently with her own tears.

"– they took away my little lamp – Jace said I'm already big and I can't sleep with the light on – but I'm so scared –" She babbled in despair, as if this was the worst day of her life and there were big monsters lurking in the shadows of the room she slept in ready to devour her.

For some reason, what she said made him feel a sting in his heart and sympathy, through which he shifted to the side, sighing heavily, making room beside him.

"– okay, just be quiet already – come here –" He muttered, and she breathed a loud sigh of relief, closing the door behind her.

She surprised him by climbing onto his bed and immediately covering herself with his duvet, breathing loudly as if she was really scared.

"– thank you –"

"– sleep –" He commanded, turning his back to her. "– you are to disappear tomorrow morning – if anyone sees you, I will kill you with my own hands – do you understand? –"

"– yes –" She mumbled out with difficulty.

He heard her turn on her other side, but he could still feel the warmth of her body – his bed designed for one person for two proved a tad too cramped and there was no way their shoulders wouldn't touch.

Although he felt ashamed that he had slept with a girl, on the other hand her presence had a calming effect on him – the conviction that someone was beside him, her warmth and her scent, reminding him of vanilla pudding or cake, made him fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.

When he woke up, to his relief, she was gone, nor had she told anyone that she had come to him.

What surprised him was that she came to him the next night and jumped into his bed as if it was hers.

"– what are you doing? –" He muttered, looking at her in shock, his favourite book about dragons in his hands.

"– I'm going to bed –"

"– you've got to be joking – go to your place –"

"– I don't have a lamp –"

"– I'll give you mine –"

"– no – this one is too big – for me to sleep it has to be small or someone has to sleep next to me – I swear I'll disappear tomorrow morning –" She mumbled, seeing him tilt his head back, closing his eyes in impatience.

"– I don't want you in my room –" He said finally. "– neither you nor your brothers – I'd rather you never came here –"

It was only when he heard how the words sounded that he thought he had exaggerated, however, he could no longer take it back – he heard her draw in a breath, her cheeks red with sadness, her eyes glazed with tears. She burst out crying, pulled herself up from her seat and ran out of his room.

He thought, returning to his reading, trying to drown out the discomfort in his stomach and the tightness in his throat with the thought that at least she and everyone else would give him a break.

He tried to focus on what he was reading, but then his thoughts returned again to her, alone, in the darkness that had so frightened her.

He remembered Aegon scaring him that there was a great one-eyed monster living in his wardrobe that would come out of there and eat him if he closed his eyes even for a moment.

He cried from exhaustion and didn't sleep for several nights until his mother, when she found out he had fallen asleep in class at school, explained to him that it had been a simple lie.

He thought with shame that she was just a child who was being bullied by them as much as he was, and although he was angry, he decided he would go and see if she had fallen asleep.

Perhaps she was being too dramatic?

He got up quietly from his bed and went out into the corridor, walking slowly to her room, which was next to his. He opened the door and looked inside, noticing to his surprise that her bed was empty; he could, however, hear her raspy, heavy breath.

He stepped inside, looking around the moonlit room, approaching her bed hearing her breathing more and more clearly. He knelt down, bending over and only then did he see, horrified, her silhouette lying on the floor under the wooden frame, her eyes clenched shut, her plump cheeks red from tears.

"– please, don't eat me –" She squealed out.

"– it's me – hey –" He whispered, touching her hand, and she screamed and slammed her head on the bed above her. She cried out loudly in pain, clutching at the spot, and he hushed her by stroking her back.

"– come here – I'm afraid of monsters too –" He whispered, and she, at his words, crawled to him and cuddled into him as if he were a teddy bear, clenching her hands into fists on his back, crying miserably.

He took her into his arms, letting her throw her arms around his neck – when he stood up with her he thought she was unusually light. He laid her down on the bed and slipped under the duvet right beside her, letting her small hands embrace his waist, her face snuggled against his chest.

Only then did he feel her whole body shake.

His hand stroked her hair until she calmed down and they both finally fell asleep in a tender, close embrace.

For the next few days when she came to him, he let her lay her head on his shoulder and read a book with him, which he kept resting on his stomach. They didn't talk then, focused on reading, his cheek resting against the top of her head.

"– can I turn the page? –" He asked, wanting to know if she had managed to read everything.

"– yes –"

She really liked the character of one of the princesses. It was another volume of the story of The Mighty Vhagar and she was the beloved of the Prince who had managed to tame this terrible dragoness. Rhaenys, for that was the heroine's name, also had her own dragon, but a much smaller one, and together with the Prince she flew in the skies.

"I wish I had a dragon like Rhaenys." She confessed to him at last, and he grunted, agreeing with her deep down, not wanting to admit it, however.

The more he got to know her, the more her presence ceased to irritate him: what he liked about her was that she respected his barrier rules. She knew that he liked silence and also that he hated it when someone rearranged or took his things. They sometimes discussed books while sitting on the terrace or walking on the beach pretending to be treasure hunters.

"Kiss your girlfriend!" Laughed Aegon, looking at them from afar, making them both turn scarlet with shame.

His words, however, made him experience a daze.

She was, in fact, a girl, on top of which, in his eyes, she was extremely pretty – her large, bright eyes were framed by beautiful dark eyelashes and eyebrows, her wide smile sweet and comforting. Her voice and touch were also pleasant, tender, her body warm as she snuggled into him at night, seeking refuge in his arms.

He thought he'd never met a girl he liked and fancied, and envied Aegon that he'd already kissed a few of his female friends at school.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" He asked her one day, walking along the beach with her, kicking various stones along the way. His niece lifted her surprised gaze to him, distracted from browsing through the white seashells she had found and wanted to take home with her.

"No. And you?" She asked curiously.

It was easier for him to tell the truth knowing that she had never had anyone either.

"No." He muttered.

They were silent for a long time, walking side by side, thoughtful.

He wondered where he was actually going with this question, his heart pounding like mad.

"And would you like to have one? A boyfriend, I mean." He asked quickly, feeling himself turn red with embarrassment – he was unable to look at her, afraid of her reaction, so he just looked around pretending to be intrigued by something.

"Well. It depends if I would like him." She replied softly.

He swallowed hard at her words.

"Do you like me?" He asked. He heard her quiet giggle beside him.

"Yes."

"So?" He continued, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, meeting her curious, bright gaze.

"What are you asking?" She asked, cocking her head, a wide smile on her face.

He was unable to get the words out.

"I can be your girlfriend, but that will mean I get to hold your hand sometimes or give you a kiss." She said finally making his heart stop in his throat.

"…but only when we're alone." He said.

"Alright." She replied lightly, undaunted, returning to looking through her shells.

He struggled to hold back a smile, feeling hot in his stomach, thinking with relief that it was simple enough and he felt satisfied.

He had a girlfriend.

For the rest of the day they pretended nothing had happened, talking to each other in passing.

What he was looking forward to was the night and the warmth of her body against his.

Indeed, she came to his room as usual as soon as she made sure everyone was already asleep and jumped into his bed making his heart beat harder. He turned off the lamp even though they were usually still both reading together, laying his head next to her on the pillow, startling her.

"– are we going to sleep already? –" She asked quietly and he nodded.

She blinked when his hand rose slowly and tentatively touched her cheek. He swallowed hard, feeling how pleasant, soft and warm her skin felt under his fingers, even in the darkness he knew she was blushing.

He pressed his forehead against hers feeling their breaths quicken, not knowing how to express what he wanted so as not to frighten her at the same time. He leaned in slightly, stroking her face with his thumb, his fingers running over her neck making her breathless.

"– may I? –" He mumbled and she nodded quickly, her fingers running over his jaw making him feel the heat rippling through his stomach, his heart pounding like crazy in his chest.

He enclosed her cheek in his palm when his lips finally pressed against hers – he was surprised by how soft, fleshy and moist they were. He pulled away from her immediately with a quiet click and grunted, twisting in his place, closing his eyes, feeling like he was about to have a heart attack from excitement.

"– sleep –" He commanded, feeling that it was too much emotions for one time. His niece answered nothing, snuggling up to him as she did every night, and he put his arms around her.

It was his first kiss with his first girlfriend.

He felt grown up, fulfilled and happy.

They spent the next few days on various expeditions, pretending that they were great explorers of scary temples looking for treasures or great tombs of old kings. They did nothing out of the ordinary apart from the occasional quick, embarrassing kiss on the lips or cheek, however, to his surprise his affection towards her grew each day.

He realised that he genuinely liked her.

She shared his passion, she was excited with him about their finds, which were most often old coins, she helped him come up with their new missions and, above all, she didn't laugh at him, but with him.

Her words, though child-like, were full of understanding and empathy, her commitment and fearless nature made her his indispensable companion, and part of him thought with relief that it would stay that way forever.

That he found his haven.

However, their closeness began to frustrate Aegon, who finally pushed him to the wall.

"Why do you keep running after her? Are you kissing her or something?" His brother asked mockingly, and he felt satisfaction at the thought of how he could answer him.

"Maybe." He replied.

Aegon looked at him in disbelief and furrowed his brows in consternation.

"WHAT? Have you gone mad? It's your niece! That's disgusting and on top of that, illegal! You can't kiss your own family!" He said making his heart stop, cold sweat running down his back.

"– after all, she is not my sister –"

"– but you are her uncle! – do you know what our mother would do to you if she found out? – you're a complete moron –"

"– I was only joking – I wanted to annoy you –" He lied quickly, feeling a wave of shame, sadness and horror run down his spine.

That day he turned on his computer quickly and, although the internet was still running very slowly at the time, he managed to read in the Online Encyclopedia that what he had done was called incest and was considered a socially unacceptable perversion, although some countries allowed marriage between an uncle and a niece or cousin.

It didn't change the fact that he burst into loud sobs, feeling like a fool, regretting everything he had done to her, that he had ever met her, that he had ridiculed himself again because of her.

"– I'm breaking up with you –" He told her the same day, making her eyes widen in disbelief and fear.

"– but –"

"– you're my niece – you can't be my girlfriend – sleep with your brother or your mum tonight –"

It seemed to him that what he said had completely broken her, because instead of saying anything, tear after tear began to run down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her hands, trying to calm herself, but they continued to flow.

He felt some natural urge to embrace her, his heart squeezed at the sight of her suffering, but there was nothing he could do about it.

They were not meant for each other.

Wanting to somehow soften his words and what he had done to her, he wrote her his phone number on a piece of paper and slipped it under her door that very evening, so that she could contact him if something bad happened, but she could call only in a life-threatening emergency.

He didn't want anyone to catch him talking to her, much less Aegon.

He thought their brief relationship and break-up would be the worst and most heartbreaking thing to happen to him on this holiday, but it wasn't.

Fueled by rage and aggression that he had no way to deal with, he threw himself at Jace as he started laughing at him, pounding him with his fists, and Luke, wanting to defend his older brother, hit his head with a glass bottle lying on the sand, which smashed into his face.

It turned out that one of the shards damaged his eye, while the other cut the left part of his face.

They all started screaming, which their parents heard – Alicent, panicked, called an ambulance, while Rhaenyra packed up, took her children and left.

The doctors, to his mother's despair, said that an operation had to be performed immediately and that the eye would have to be removed: he remembered very little of this period, not speaking or looking at anyone at the time, as if something in his mind had switched off and he had lost touch with reality.

He thought only about her.

About his Rheanys.

He opened his eyes, returning with his mind to his car – he glanced at the blue-lit display and saw that it was approaching two o'clock in the morning.

They'll be here soon, he thought.

He stepped outside, closing the car door behind him, pulling a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from the pocket of his leather jacket. He took one out and slipped it into his mouth, leaning over the bright, warm flame, the tip of it turning red. He took a drag, closing his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the smoke out through his nose.

Indeed, it wasn't even a few minutes before he heard the screech of tyres – several black cars drove into the square, blinding him with their long lights.

Turn it the fuck off, he thought, covering his face with his hand, taking another drag.

He heard men start to come out of the cars – most of them were tipsy dudes just doing security, however Jason Lannister, who was supposed to hand him part of the money for the contract, was their opposite.

He looked like a hipster in his jumper, with his blonde hair pulled back and beard, a suitcase in his hand.

"As much as I agreed with your grandfather. Next part in two weeks." He said.

"Open it." He ordered, blowing out smoke through his mouth, looking at him with a grin, from which Jason swallowed loudly.

Lannister pulled a key from his trouser pocket and opened the suitcase, presenting him with elegantly stacked, sorted thick files of money.

He nodded and hummed under his breath, satisfied, going around his car, opening his boot. He pulled out a fake bottom made especially for the police, underneath which was a bag containing several kilos of white powder that Jason sold through his club.

They exchanged bags and shook hands, parting without a word, not wanting to tempt fate.

He smoked his cigarette to the end and trampled the butt with his shoe, climbed into his car and started the engine, eager to get back to his flat and sleep for at least a few hours. He set off ahead with a squeal of tyres, driving out of the harbour onto one of the main streets, a complete blank in his mind.

He felt nothing.

Or at least he thought he did, until her name showed up on his dashboard display remotely connected to his phone, the sound around him indicating that she was calling him made him freeze.

Over the years she had texted him, describing her days, asking how he was doing, wishing him a happy birthday, but he had never written her back, thinking it was pointless.

He only associated her with what he could not have and what happened next.

However, the fact that she called was exceptional.

Call only in a life-threatening emergency.

FUCK.

He wanted to pretend he hadn't seen it, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to live with what he'd done if it turned out the next day that her dead body had been found somewhere in the woods.

His trembling hand rose to the button on the screen with the handset symbol on it – he swallowed hard when his finger touched it and there was silence.

"– Aemond? –" He heard her trembling, breaking voice, his heart pounding like mad – he thought in disbelief that she sounded familiar and foreign at the same time.

"– what is it? –" He asked dryly, feeling the cold sweat run down his back as he tried to focus on the road.

She was probably just drunk and desperate, he consoled himself.

"– G-God – they must have – they must have put something into my drink –" She mumbled with difficulty between sobs, her breath heavy and ragged – he felt his heart stop, his hands involuntarily tightening on his steering wheel.

"– what? – fuck – where are you? –"

All he heard for a moment was her shallow breathing and crying, saw with his eyes her face then when he told her they couldn't be together.

"– Rhaenys – focus – fucking speak to me –"

"– I – mmm – I don't know – I think... – ...I think I'm in the toilet –" She muttered, apparently losing touch with reality.

"– in what toilet? – in the club? –" He asked desperately, running his hand over his mouth and jaw, thinking with horror that someone might be about to rape her.

"– yes – in the... – ...club – like... – ...one... – ...with palm trees –" She mumbled, and he drew in the air loudly, knowing what she was talking about.

"– Heavenly Beach? –" He asked, turning on his indicator, making a U-turn even though he should have done it at the next crossroads, several cars started honking at him, braking with a screech to avoid hitting him.

"– Rhaenys? – FUCK! –" He shouted, no longer hearing her voice, slapping his hands on the steering wheel, feeling tears burning under his eyelids for the first time in years.

He felt like he was in a panic, only realising after a moment that he was breathing loudly through his mouth.

He had broken many traffic regulations to get to this place as quickly as possible.

The security guards knew him and let him in outside the huge queue, to the fury of the others waiting – he ran quickly down the stairs, hitting several guests on the way who shouted after him to be careful, the loud electric music completely deafening him.

He wondered, what was she doing here?

Walking through the flickering lights and darkness, he headed straight for the toilets, going inside with a loud slam of the door. Several of the girls inside squealed, horrified by the presence of a man in the women's washroom.

"Get the fuck out!" Shouted one of them, stepping in his way, but he pushed her away. The girl fell over and whimpered, her friend, as drunk as she was, began calling him names, threatening to call security.

"RHAENYS!" He called out, opening one cubicle after another until he came across a closed door from behind which no sound came. When hit it with his foot it opened with a loud clatter and then he saw her: she was lying on the tiles sunken in deep sleep, unconscious, her phone by her face.

Looking at her, he remembered with shame that he knew perfectly well what she looked like, because he stalked her Instagram and Facebook accounts almost every evening: at first he just wanted to mock her and her life, then, however, it helped him control which boys she was seeing.

He destroyed his first phone by throwing it against a wall when he saw a picture of her in the arms of some guy when she was in high school, his rage caused by the fact that she was able to move on and he was stuck, still with his mind in that summer.

He knew she had studied archaeology because she sometimes posted photos from excavations, showing unusual finds. He couldn't bear it when he saw a picture of her sitting next to a boy who was putting his arm around her waist, surely going to university with her.

Robb, because it turned out that was his name when he traced his profile through her friends, liked to have a good time: he'd gone a few times to clubs he'd visited, wanting to look at him from afar.

He watched him chat up strange women and, although nothing happened between them, he came to a certain conclusion.

He didn't trust him.

He didn't like him.

That's why he took a picture of him with a woman, who he put his arm around exactly as it was then, in their picture, and then asked the owner of the club, who was buying drugs from them, to post the picture on their official Facebook.

They often uploaded photos from parties, so this was nothing unusual, and the feeling of satisfaction he experienced when he saw that after a few days she had deleted all their photos together was indescribable.

He consoled himself with the thought that it wasn't because he was jealous, but because he wanted to protect her, like the good, caring uncle he had never been.

And now she, the girl he saw every day on his phone screen lay unconscious in the stinky toilet where others came to fuck and snort cocaine, vulnerable and helpless.

"– hey – hey, wake up, kid –" He muttered, trying to lift her up, tapping his palm against her cheek to revive her, with no effect.

She didn't even flinch.

He grabbed her under her hips and lifted her up, rising from his knees with her, walking out of the toilet, the two drunk girls led them away with eyes full of disbelief.

As he walked with her through the club he noticed two men standing at the bar watching him closely – they turned away, pretending to talk to each other when they met his gaze.

Were they the ones lurking for her?

Were they the ones hoping to have fun with her that night?

He felt disgust and rage at the thought, for although he didn't get into any deeper relationships, he only took from women as much as they were willing to give him.

Sex allowed him to vent and not go crazy, but no relationship was an option.

He didn't want any new girlfriends.

With one hand holding her under her buttocks, he slipped the other into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out the keys to his car, opening it remotely. He opened the passenger side door and settled her into the seat, fastening her seatbelt. She mumbled something that sounded like no, clearly thinking he was the one who had done this to her.

"– easy – I'll take you home –"

He hated Rhaenyra's new husband wholeheartedly, as he was their biggest rival when it came to drug deals, however, he had no choice: after Harwin was shot, his older sister quickly found comfort in the arms of another man who was far more dangerous.

Perhaps that was what attracted him to her.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at his niece's silhouette plunged into sleep, tense, her body completely numb, her bowed head leaning against the window.

He placed his hand on her palm, clamping his fingers on her skin, his throat squeezed at the thought that he felt exactly like then, when he had found her curled up under the bed.

"– you were right to be afraid of sleeping in the dark – you don't even know how many real monsters lurk in its shadows –" He whispered – her body shuddered, but she didn't wake, her fingers tightening on his.

"– uncle –" She mumbled.

He pressed his lips together feeling a single, heavy, warm tear of sorrow run down his cheek at the thought that she was able to recognise his voice after so many years.

He parked in front of Daemon's house and lowered his window, pressing the button to wake up whichever bodyguard was there. He heard a moment later that someone had in fact appeared under the other side.

"– do you know what fucking time it is, man? –"

"– someone gave Daemon's daughter, and my niece, a rape pill – I brought her –" He said dispassionately, his free hand still clenched on hers.

"– oh fuck –" The man mumbled, and the gate in front of him immediately opened.

He pulled into the driveway and parked at the very entrance, Rhaenyra in only a bathrobe, apparently awakened from a deep sleep, walked out of the house with Daemon running up to his car. He turned off the engine and stepped outside, closing the door.

"– what happened? – how did you find her? –" She asked terrified and pale, looking at him in disbelief.

"– Heavenly Beach – she called me – she barely spoke –" He replied coldly, opening the passenger side door. Her mother immediately leaned over her, gently patting her cheeks.

"– my love? – good God –" She mumbled, stroking her hair and shoulders as if she were a small child.

"– what was she doing there? –" He asked Daemon. Rhaenyra's husband threw him a long, frustrated look.

"– she said she would be staying the night with a friend – I am as surprised as you are –" He replied impatiently, taking his niece in his arms exactly as he had before, heading home with her, her face sunken into a deep sleep lying on his shoulder.

He shuddered when Rhaenyra touched his arm, looking at him uncertainly.

"– would you like a cup of tea? – you can stay the night with us –"

After you ran away without a word of apology when your son ruined my life, you stupid whore?

"– no –" He said immediately, turning around and heading for the driver's side door, getting inside his car without bestowing another glance on her. He started the engine and began to back up, turning around, driving out through the gate back onto the dirt road.

By the time he returned to his flat it was morning, but he did not feel tired or sleepy. He was attacked immediately by the paws of a large brown dog – Vhagar, his gift of comfort after losing his eye, looked at him with big eyes and barked with rage that he had left her alone for so long.

"I know. I know. I've had a rough night." He hummed, stroking her head. His dog grumbled for another moment, whining and howling, until she gave up, returning to her sleeping place.

He pulled off his jacket and boots, lay down on his bed and unlocked his phone, going into his messages, clicking on the icon that said Rhaenys.

He scrolled through her messages, imagining as he did so that she was lying right next to him, that everything he had read she had just whispered in his ear, embracing him tenderly as she had then, that summer.

He didn't write her back because he didn't know what he should say.

He was ashamed to admit that if it hadn't been for Aegon, this would probably have gone on for a while until their parents found out and they would be completely humiliated.

He was ashamed to admit that his most beautiful childhood memory was both something disgusting and shameful, something that some part of him wanted to forget.

He was ashamed to admit that his grandfather had told him that he could forget about the University, because once you enter this world, you stay there forever.

He was ashamed to admit that he felt that it had always been too late for him, that there was no moment in his life when he could change something.

He fell asleep in the end and didn't wake up for several hours, tired and shaken; he shuddered when he heard his phone ring and reached for it quickly, thinking it might have been her again.

He swallowed hard, disappointed when he saw it was his grandfather and answered reluctantly, closing his eyes.

"Did everything go according to plan?" He asked.

"Yes."

"What were you doing in Heavenly Beach?"

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, feeling his heart begin to pound like mad.

Lie or tell the truth?

"Rhaenyra's daughter called me. Someone put a rape pill into her drink."

Silence answered him for a moment, from which he felt a discomfort in his stomach.

"Aemond –" His grandfather began. "– this is the last time you interfere in their affairs. Do you understand?"

He looked ahead, biting his lower lip so hard that he felt the taste of his own blood on his tongue, his throat squeezed so tightly that he felt like he had stopped breathing.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes."

[sien-ten]

chapter 100 is short, but loud

spy x family spoilers ahead

short summary: martha and her female comrades were put out on first lines. they're going down, martha is covered by heavy smoke that BlackBell Ind. artillery produces while shooting, so westalis soldiers doesn't see her. it seems that they were a strategic move to distract an enemy. they retreat in frenzy, martha is bleeding and tired. while escaping westalis soldiers, martha shoots and slips down in river, losing her consciousness. she's awake at westalis' side, a dog found her. dog's owner - mrs. anabel, cures some of martha's wounds, feeds her, gives her late daughers clothes (who it seems was a medic) to wear. she tells martha to hide and leave, so young girl does just that. while crawling in search of ostania' s side, martha finds a map and hand-knitted scarf in her pack. mrs. anabell received only a leg of what was left of her daughter, but she sent off someone else's child safely.

I was honestly afraid, that we'll receive some kind of funny chapter with Anya's antics as a 100 chapter. as much as I love Anya, doing something like this in the middle of PAST-arc is very anticlimactic.

I feel that ch. 100 would be much longer, If Endo-sensei could (or wanted to) write more about what happens on other side of war. how not everyone want to play an "agressor" part, how there's fathers, mothers and kids on all sides of battlefield, how hard is to stay human while living in literal hell of war. But I want to thank him for what we have. He's an amazing writer, so we can only imagine how this practice will help him in making of Spy x Family finale.

interesting details: BlackBell Ind. maschinery is already on battlefield, and it works a bit bad - they produce to much smoke, which they shouldn't do; in a moment of weakness Martha internally calls for her parents and Henry; mrs. Anabel is living alone, but her family seems to have strong connections to military - there's photo of her daughter in uniform similar to W2 red cross, there's an unnamed man in marine uniform; mrs. anabell seems to be sick, she has scars and marks on her face, but she also has big medical knowledge - she healed Martha's wounds on her own; the doggo - Baron - is well fed and happy to have new company; Endo doesn't tell us how much time Martha spent on westalis' side - there's only a hint that battlefield frenzy happened "a few month before" Henry heard of Combat Battalion's wipe-out.

this frame of Martha is my favourite in this whole arc.

[pressurereunited]

"Always be the one who LEADS, Sebastian."

- Augustin Solace (RU Sebastians' Grandfather)

Though many life experiences built the man we know as RU Sebastian Solace, this one quote from his childhood was the seed that would result in him.

RU Sebastian BIO Revised!

Name: Sebastian Nicholas Solace

Age: Early to Mid 40s (42-46)

Occupation: (Former) Army Lieutenant (Former) Machine Maintenance for UrbanShade (Current) Shopkeeper

Fun Fact:

He's very efficient and knowledgeable with weaponry, and combat of different kinds, and is very crafty as well... Most items in his shop/home he made himself do repaired when it was damaged!

He was already really strong when he was human, being mutated just made him even more of a juggernaut 😎

Personality: Focused, militant, rougher around the edges, self-aware, down to earth, empathetic, confident, courageous, prudent, strategic, tactical, kind, compassionate, benevolent, protective, patient, desires to help others grow, and an instinctive leader.

Nationality: American-Chilean

Born: America

Lived: America (Early childhood- Late teen years) Russia (Military)

Currently Resides: Hadal Blacksite (Norway)

Family:

Unnamed Parents

Unnamed brothers

Augustin Solace (Deceased Grandfather)

Olivia Solace (Wife)

Damien Solace (Son)

April Solace (Daughter)

(Not AU canon, but It'd be rude to not include these two: @crusadingaro's Gemini Twins Maddie and Sun Tail- Adopted Family.)

Friends:

Sam (closest friend he's known in UrbanShade for several years, might as well be considered a brother 😁)

P.AI.nter/Bartholomew

Rodger (Deceased)

Religion: Orthodox Christian

Loves: His family, his friends, reading about history, writing (whatever, as long as he's writing.), talking about his military years, explaining weapons, protecting those who need protection, comforting those who need comfort, instilling hope in other people.

Dislikes: Dishonesty, people who insult or attempt to harm his family or friends, people who try to screw him over, pointless bickering/fighting.

What do you all think? Do you like this revision?

[seleneprince]

File about Severus Snape's werewolf daughter (because she deserves it and I want to do it)

Name: Juliana Eileen Prince

Born: 30 August 1980

Blood status: Pureblood

Nationality: British with Italian roots

Also known as: Julia, Jules, Princess (by Draco), Prince Bastard, that viper (by Sirius Black), Snape's girl.

Species: Werewolf (since birth)

Hair: Ivory black

Eye colour: Onyx black with motes of grey

Family:

Severus Snape (father)

Unnamed werewolf woman (mother, deceased)

Eileen Prince (paternal grandmother, deceased)

Tobias Snape (paternal grandfather, deceased)

Boggart: Her father's corpse

Patronus: Snake

Affiliations: Hogwarts, House Prince, House Malfoy (she's practically one of them), wherever her father is.

House: Slytherin or Hufflepuff

Faceclaim: Jessie Mei Li (Shadow and Bone)

Trivia:

-She's half Asian on her mother's side.

-She's Severus Snape #1 defender and supporter. She adores her dad and will gladly fight anyone that insults him. She's not afraid of facing grown ass men is she sees them disrespecting him.

-House Prince has Roman-Italian roots, so Severus gave her a Latin name that means "woman of strong roots", and it can be abreviated to "Julia", a very common Roman name. Her second name is because Severus wanted to honor his mother but felt that it could be a bad omen giving it as first name. He doesn't want to accidentally curse his child to the same fate.

-She's only called Juliana by the teachers and her father. For everyone else she's mostly Julia. Jules is for friends only.

-To the public, she's considered an illegitimate child from House Prince, an ancient family of purebloods whose line was thought to be extinct.

-Severus wasn't going to ask the Malfoys to be the godparents because he didn't think they would want anything to do with a child with lycanthropy. They were furious at his reasoning and proclaimed that any child of his was considered family to them.

-So yeah Lucius and Narcissa are the godparents, because they wouldn't have it any other way.

-Because of this, Draco and Julia have been practically raised together and share a very close bond.

-He accepts Julia's condition but it doesn't apply for others like her. He's an hypocrite like his parents.

-She has her own room in Malfoy Manor because of how often she has spent the night there, thanks to her father's busy life. They also have a special room for her during the full moon nights.

-The only people that know of her condition are Severus, the Malfoys and Dumbledore.

-Remus finds out as soon as he interacts with her and he's flabbergasted.

-She's been learning Potions ever since she was old enough to hold a spoon. There's no way in hell Severus Snape wouldn't teach his daughter Potions.

-Despite this, her favourite subject is Care for Magical Creatures. She has a knack for it and connects with them better than with humans.

-Regardless of which house she ends up in, she'll be friends with the Slytherins.

-She plays Beater in the quidditch team. It's the only time she doesn't have to worry about her strenght.

-Ron is her favourite of the Golden Trio, but she's interested in Harry's trayectory.

-Really sharp and developed senses. Nothing ever escapes her. She also gets easily overwhelmed the days prior the full moon.

-She's a natural Legilimens like her father, which she found out after accidentally seeing one of his memories once. It was very uncomfortable for both.

-Severus has never told her the whole story with the marauders, only some pieces of it here and there. She knows it from the Malfoys and her own individual research (aka peeking into certain people's minds).

-Because of this, she dislikes Sirius and Remus a lot, specially the first. She doesn't see the point on hating James Potter if he's dead.

-One of the effects of her lycantropy is that she's naturally good with Dark Arts. Might be the only useful and painless thing her condition gave her.

-Her copying mechanism is dark humour, which she started to apply first with her lycantropy. She makes jokes about it and tries to take it with philosophy. She's not asshamed of it.

-She knows how to brew the wolfsbane potion but still prefers when her dad does it.

-At some point she has to share the Shrieking Shack with Lupin for the full moon nights. It makes an awkward experience for both.

-She goes by Prince instead of Snape to hide the fact that she's Severus' daughter. This was decided by Severus himself, to protect her from the danger of being associated with him. Julia isn't fond of this idea, but understands the reasons behind it.

-She doesn't really aprove of Draco's behaviour most of the time, but is too amused by it to stop him. If she really dislikes something he did, she'll play along in public but will chastize him in private. Kinda "I don't agree with you but I'll defend you anyway because we're supposed to be a team".

-She knows more than she should. Severus long gave up on trying to hide anything from her.

(In this AU, lycantropy has nothing to do with AIDs. It's a blood curse that happens to be contagious and, like all curses, it can be passed down to generations)