#where was i even going with this! i dont know!

[yoitsjay]

[Frothing at the mouth, fiending, biting]

Brought by the pegging headcanons, and my GOD did you deliver.

Your writing brings all thw sluts to the yard and as a Certified Whore, I'm here to request a kinky! af reader.

[It is not a carnal want, it is a Divine NEED to see these men get OBLITERATED]

Toodles!

~😈 anon

I gotcha hon, order up!

Batfam with a kinky! Reader

Warnings: overstimulation, edging, use of toys, bondage, face sitting, (slight) suffocation.

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Bruce Wayne:

You and Bruce had been together for long enough now to where you had reached the point in your relationship where he was willing to try new things.

One of those things just happened to be letting you take some control in the bedroom.

You started slow with him, obviously you didn't want to scare him off with your freakish nature, which he had seen some of more on one occasion when he's railing into your pussy so hard he broke your bed frame and box spring- or when you’re choking and slobbering all over his cock and end up cumming without touching yourself-

But when he finally convinced you to let go, you did.

Now you were on your knees in front of him, stroking his cock slowly, occasionally squeezing at the base to watch him jolt in surprise and let out a frustrated groan. He was sweating, on the verge of breaking because you had denied him an orgasm twice.

“Please sweet girl-”

“Just one more time Brucie, please?”

You edged him only one more time, before finally letting him cum… but as he did, you didn't stop moving your hand, and his moans went from guttural, to higher pitched, almost sounding as light cries while you refused to pull your hand away from his twitching, red cock.

“Cum for me big guy, three times, to make up for the denial. You can do that for me right?"

And god he tried, he let you work him like bread dough as he twitched and jolded and cried out desperately for you to stop, but to keep going at the same time.

When you were done, you hadn't made yourself feel good, which he clocked as you were gently cleaning the sweat and cum off his body.

“You didn't-”

“It's okay Bruce, I still had fun.”

“No- no no let me- let me make you feel good baby, please.”

And who were you to deny Bruce Wayne?

You couldn't, definitely not with how you tortured the poor guy.

Dick Grayson:

It was spontaneous. You were riding him and like always he was grossly absorbed in the way your tits (or cock) bounced as you rode him.

But suddenly he couldn't move his hands, or touch you, and just as he was about to cum you stopped, and pulled off of him all together. “Wait!” He cried out immediately, struggling against the ropes as he looked over at you with a betrayed expression across his face.

You haven't even said a word and he was begging, tears welling up in his eyes as he bucked his hips up into the air. “nonono baby please not right now, don't do this to me now- I’ve been so good!” He whimpered out, then moaned like a bloody porn star when you finally touched him again, and began stroking his throbbing cock.

He was close.

And you pulled away again.

Dick sobbed, loudly, whining like a toddler who wasn't getting his way… which was true.

He was writhing on the bed, trying to fight the restraints on his hands. “Dick you know the safeword-”

“NO!” He practically shouted with tears in his eyes, looking over at you. “Dont stop-” he whimpered

You just smiled, walking over to him as you cupped his face and kissed him softly, seating yourself back on top of his delicious cock, biting at his bottom lip as he moaned out loudly.

“I wanna see you break that rope Dickie. I wont stop the edging until you do”

Yeah, he broke that rope pretty fast.

Jason Todd:

The rope had been something agreed upon before starting.

Jason laid beneath you, hands ties to the bedposts as you were seated on his face, one hand braced on the wall while the other gripped the bed frame as you rocked your hips against his tongue, moaning as he dove his tongue inside you, and lapped at you like a starved animal, even while restrained, his tongue still worked magic on the areas that needed it most.

Then he felt your thighs squeeze around his head, and your pussy was slotted over his nose and mouth, and you stayed there, grinding down against his tongue, but not moving up, or further down to give him space to breathe.

Again, this had been something you talked about with him. When you rode his face he would always end up pulling you down to actually sit on his face, he asked you to just relax, and sit.

Here you were.

Sitting.

It definitely caught him off guard at first, though your scent and taste was overwhelming to him… and when the airflow started getting cut off, and it was progressively getting harder to breath, he started getting lightheaded.

Then you felt something wet hitting your back. Your eyes widened with surprise and you lifted your hips, hearing him gasp and inhale fresh air as you watched cum continue to spurt from his cock, onto your back or his belly.

“Holy shit, Jason-”

Suddenly you felt his hands on your hips, you looked back to him, eyes wide as you noticed the ropes had been snapped, and he had this dangerously hungry gleam in his eyes.

“Your turn.” Was all he practically growled out before his hand was around your throat and he had you impaled on his cock.

Who knew he was into not breathing… Death really did something to him.

Tim Drake:

“Ah! fu-fuckk- Mommy please- please I’m sorry- I’ll be a good boy- I'll be good just let me cum please- please mommy I need it-”

His wails echoed off the walls of your shared penthouse, only to get muffled by the weight of you sitting on his face, his tongue automatically slipping into your cunt as he writhed against the ropes that contained him, his body jerking with every movement of your hand on his cock, shaking with the vibrations of the dildo that stretched his once puckered untouched hole.

Timothy Drake had been reduced to a whiny bitch underneath you, crying against your pussy for mercy, of any kind really.

You had been teasing him for hours… perhaps it was only fair.

You sighed, lifting your hips off his face before climbing off the bed, removing the vinrating dildo, letting out a low whistle when you saw the gape it left behind… and that definitely left a tingle between your thighs.

You then released the ropes and he groaned in relief… Though the need to cum got the better of him as he grabbed you and pulled you on top of him, sliding inside of you with satisfying ease as he buried his face between your tits, tears streaming down his face as he rutted his hips up into you, gripping and kneading at your skin as he let out wails of pleasure until he bucked his hips up into you one last time before stilling, letting out his loudest cry yet before he practically went limp.

“Oh god- Tim?” You called out his name after he wanted to limp against you, you had to hold him against you to prevent him from bumping his head against the bed frame because he just went ragdoll.

“Tim, are you okay? Was it too much? Are you-”

“Can we do this again in a couple days?” His voice flooded your ears, raspy, but clear as day.

And you laughed, kissing him gently as you nodded your head, and began your aftercare routine.

“Sure baby boy, in a couple days.”

Tag list:

All: @francesfarhadi @only-my-unexistent-fiances

Batfam:

BW smut: @ilaiise

DG smut: @ilaiise

JT smut: @ilaiise

TD smut:

[valalice]

✮ YOU'LL ALWAYS BE A GAMEGIRL .ᐟ ft. 𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓶𝓼.

ʚɞ summary. a collection of streamer ellie headcanons.

warnings. streamer!ellie. modern au. fluff i guess? this is basically crack. ellie's chat can't give her a break. loser!ellie also if you so fancy it. talk about a strap on but it's nothing serious. ellie fights with kids for a living. wc. 1.4k

a/n. and the crowd BOOO'S... i know, i know literally everyone to ever exist on this app has their own thoughts on streamer!ellie, but i thought it would be fun to do my own thoughts on her <3

m.list | tlou m.list

࿐ streamer!ellie who grew to stardom during quarantine. much like everyone else in the world she had a lot of time on her hands, so what's better than increasing her addiction to gaming and worsening her already bad eyesight by staring at a bright monitor in the dark? it's not like she had much school work (she did) to care about anyway.

࿐ streamer!ellie whose fan base are her biggest haters that always clown on her. many of the fans who have been around since the start still joke about younger ellie, ellie who was in high school and still cringe when she started streaming. “so, yeah i graduated college. that's the reason why there wasn't a stream on saturday.”

[user000] did you get a degree in loserology?

[user001] bro has a whole college degree and still streams 💀

“i’m talking about my accomplishments and you guys are clowning me!?"

࿐ streamer!ellie who succumbed and adopted a kitten a few years ago, a ginger one at that. her face lighting up when she realizes she has yet to introduce her son to chat. taking off her headset (for once) setting it down on her desk, “i’ll be right back, chat.” leaving her room to find where the small kitten could be.

when she comes back, she holds the small ginger puff of fur in her arms with a cheeky smile. taking the kitten in her hands and holding him to the webcam “say hello to little bro, chat. haven't named him yet, was thinking we could do a poll.”

it was best and worst decision ellie ever made adopting a cat. the best because she loves the little stinker. and the worst because anytime she's on the chat is filled with

[user002] DONTTT CAREEE WHERES RICK

[user003] show us the child

࿐ streamer!ellie who has the worst eyesight ever. she wears glasses and still squints whenever she has to read something in game or the chat.

࿐ streamer!ellie whose desk is some second hand desk she got years ago. it’s gone from place to place with her and chat jokes that it's her emotional support desk. it's often littered with pop cans, various wrappers, notebooks and sketchbooks, figurines, comic books, scratched up stickers, and guitar picks. if she's lost anything her best bet is that it's somewhere on her desk.

࿐ streamer!ellie who swears she's not a scaredy cat when playing horror games, but the moment she hears any sound she's freaking out “chat, you heard that right?” "I'M NOT GOING FUCKING INSANE!" and when out of nowhere her character is getting chased her voice will pitch a little higher “HE’S CHASING ME! HE’S CHASING ME!” when the character ultimately meets their doom she’ll deadpan the webcam, “that game wasn't even that scary.”

[user004] whatever you say bud

[user005] that clip of u screaming like a little girl says otherwise

[user006] now we all know who's dying first in a horror movie

࿐ streamer!ellie who starts to get an inflation of views on her streams from clips of her being posted on tiktok (her audios have gone viral a few times). and who rolls her eyes at all the ‘wuh luh wuh?’ comments, “is the sky blue? are there forks in the kitchen? is the grass green? i love women, women love me.”

[user007] women may have we in it but we do not love you

[user008] is the women in the room with us???

[user009] BRO NO NEED TO LIE WE KNOW U DONT PULL

࿐ streamer!ellie who's mic blows out the any time she screams from a game.

࿐ streamer!ellie who is genuinely so shit at shooting games. chat knows that within the first few minutes without a fail ellie will get shot and killed, yet they still get hyped as ellie gets focused on the game. and when she does get killed, her hands will come down crashing on her desk, causing her setup to shake before stretching out in her chair stretching, letting her hands come on top over her headset before falling down over her face.

[user010] just load up roblox bro

࿐ streamer!ellie who hits a milestone and decides to do those ‘letting my followers spend my money’ it's very short lived because chat is just as unhinged and chaotic as her. “why the fuck is there a maid’s costume? fuck no.” and when her eyes rake over the cart to see that someone added a strap harness and dildo, “YO CHAT? THE FUCK?”

[user011] now thats just sad

[user012] AINT NO WAY

[user013] guys stop being mean :/ we all know it's just going to collect dust and cobwebs :/

[user014] ellie bitchless williams

࿐ streamer!ellie who enjoys doing more laid back and casual streams like building lego sets or setting up a new action figure. she’s done quite a few cooking streams which all end in disaster, “chat is there a huge difference between baking power and baking soda?” “i don't give a fuck if i shouldn't be eating raw cake batter, salmonella fears me.” “uh, should the oven be smoking like that?”

[user015] can't believe i'm witnessing ellie burn down her place in real time

or even once in a blue moon an outside stream.

[user016] ayeeee the gremlin is out of its dungeon

[user017] how does it feel to see sunlight again?

࿐ streamer!ellie who rarely post besides the casual spam of her stories, but is somehow extremely chronically online.

࿐ streamer!ellie who got banned from her mic privileges in roblox and later completely banned. all because she has no self restraint when arguing with little kids, “your avatar is ugly.” some random kid would say, “yo daddy is ugly.” ellie would bite back. and when she finds herself in yet another shooter esc game and a kid thinks it's smart to say "your aim is butt!" ellie’s retaliation to the critique is “that's not what your mom said last night you little fucker!” then shooting the kid’s character.

[user018] kid sounds like he's 8 MAX

[user019] ellie desensitizing these kids young

[user020] TO A CHILDDDD?????

[user021] bro can only get a kill if it's a child

࿐ streamer!ellie who thinks all her jokes are knee slap worthy, but her chat couldn't be less phased.

[user022] pack it up

[user023] 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅

࿐ streamer!ellie who met you in a lobby when she's coincidentally not streaming, her team needed one more player so she shot her shot, “uh, hey,” she's totally cool right now, her palm totally isn't sweating off of her mouse “would you like to join my team? we just need one more player.” and she plays it chill when you accept “cool, cool. thanks.” but afterwards she put herself on mute and jumped out of her chair, all while her phone is blowing up with text from the groupchat.

࿐ streamer!ellie who tells her chat about it the next time she streams. “had a pretty girl on my team. i've never seen her, but i don't need to. i know it in my soul, it's my spidey sense.”

[user024] u sure u weren't dreaming???

[user025] didn't happened unless we have proof

࿐ streamer!ellie who hopes she'd see you in another lobby, but in reality it's probably a few weeks or months before she notices your handle in a lobby again, but she's always on the lookout for it. and when she does she thanks whoever is out there that she's streaming. she's solo playing this time so there's no opportunity for her to be on a team with you again, but she swears she could ascend into the heavens when you giggle at her wishing you luck in the game, covering her face from her webcam to hide that her face is turning bright red, "good luck to you too."

[user026] we all know she needs it

[user027] OKAY ELLIEEEEEE WE SEE UR GAME

“chat, i’m threw the roof. calling it know we're winning this.” ellie in fact did not win. she yet again got killed in recorded time, by none other than you. she couldn't even be upset over it “pretty and talented, damn.”

[user028] bffr u were her easy kill

࿐ streamer!ellie who by the end of it you initiate a conversation with her “i would apologize for killing you, but i just couldn't help myself.” “oh no, no. it's no problem. i’m shit at this game, it's all good.” "well maybe you could get better if we play together more?” and chat could just see the wheels turning in ellie’s head “uh—” her voice fucking cracked, “shit, yeah!” realizing she's getting a little too excited, so she's gotta tone it down “that would be cool.” smoothing a sweaty hand on her sweats. to say her chat explodes is an understatement.

[user029] WE ARE WITNESSING HISTORY

[user030] WINNERS LOVE WINNING

[user031] U BETTER DUST OFF THAT STRAP!!!!

[bloodandthebreakingofmyheart]

I have an addition to your theory- Krosis was likely not his priest name.

"Krosis" means "sorrow" or "apologies" in dovahzul. It's possible (and indeed likely) that his name was changed at some point because of something bad that happened... like the dragon he served rebelling. Think of all the other priests- they have names like Morokei, or Otar. Most aren't names immediately translatable from dovahzul, and those with dovahzul names make more sense in their meaning ("Nahkriin" meaning "revenge" or "Miraak" being one letter removed from "miiraak" meaning "portal", for example).

So why is the only dragon priest without a temple named "sorrow"? Going with your theory, it would make sense that the dragon Krosis served was marked as a traitor, and after that, Krosis had his name changed and his temple taken.

Whether it was changed by him, though, is unclear (or maybe it's not and I just don't care enough about the timeline to know when he would've died in relation to Parth's rebellion). Personally, I like the idea that he had his crypt removed and name changed AFTER his death- kind of like how the ancient Egyptians would scratch the names off the tombs of traitors.

listen i know bethesda never stated this but just by the clues it’s 99% possible that krosis was the priest of bleak falls barrow, and it was once paarthurnax’s temple. after paarthurnax’s betrayal and overthrowing the cults power, krosis’ crypt was dumped at shearpoint. dragon priests were hailed as kings and buried in the temples, you don’t dump a figure of that power on top of a mountain for no reason. this also explains why bleak falls barrow is without a named dragon priest despite it being one of the larger ruins in skyrim. 

and i like things that add up. bleak falls barrow is a fairly large ruin, like labyrinthian and skuldafn. so why would there be no named dragon priest? and of course there’s no confirmation that it was paarth’s temple or not, but he was second in command to alduin and that kind of power doesn’t amount to a tiny temple.

[akascow]

UGHHH the way viktor was afraid of people forgetting his accomplishments and how his memory will be short lived only for it to ACTUALLY HAPPEN is SO FUCKING HEARTBREAKING

because he was never included in the hextech credits, his name isnt as publically known and ppl will only see him as That One Guy who started a cult and tried to take over the world or smth (IF that. like do most people even know thats viktor in there or is it just another Piltover’s nameless baddie of the week to them… sad)

and the FEW people who knew him and his contribution to hextech are either just dead or probably saw him as a villain as their last memory of him, was he even worth saving in their mind??

the ONLYYYY person who understood him and loved him for who he was (other than sky ofc, who also died lmao) was taken with him in death, so viktor’s story wont even live on in honor for how he truly was and what he really stood for, bc jayce is the only one who can accurately describe him post-mortem

and people will probably think jayce (THE GOLDEN BOY, MAN OF PROGRESS in the eyes of piltover) died trying to fight him bc no one knows what their conversation was about before they went out, or how jayce was willing to sacrifice himself too because he shares blame in it all, so theyll likely just villainize viktor for that as well, 'the one who killed jayce talis- creator of hextech'

and no one is alive to mourn him :( so fucking depressing

also i dont blame jayce for 'taking all the credit' like some people do lol ive seen ppl say he was egotistical and taking it all in for himself and pushing viktor aside, but he literally always says viktor is his partner and never implies that HE ALONE developed hextech or that hes the sole creator in it all

like its always been 'OUR inventions' and 'my PARTNER' and 'WE created this' whenever jayce talks about hextech. he literally corrects viktor from "your [jayce's] hextech dream" to "our hextech dream" the very first night they partner up bc, despite knowing this man for maybe 4 hours max, he already recognizes the importance of their partnership and that hes not the sole idea-man in this project anymore

i think that whole negative idea was probably developed from jayce signing every single page in his notes,, but itd make more sense to me that he'd do that- not out of arrogance- but he might share the same fear that viktor has: in being forgotten for his work... so he signs every page making sure no one can take a piece out of context and pass it as their own years down the line, or erase the possibility that forget the origin of the creator, especially in a world where a species like yordels are seemingly immortal, names hold a lot of weight as time withers tangible things away

and im assuming jayce recognizes that the fact that being from the undercity could have easily silenced viktor's ideas and contributions in the eyes of the public, and jayce doesnt want to diminish his work towards it. two very important lines jayce hears from viktor that night are "do you think i want to spend my whole life as an assistant" and "a poor kid from the undercity, no one believed in me, i was an outcast the moment i stepped foot in piltover" and he probably took those to heart (paraphrasing those quotes bc i have the memory of a goldfish or smth)

i feel like its moreso piltover to blame (? imo) lmao they set up jayce as the golden boy, and piltover is all about names and status and wealth. they very obviously discriminate against zaunites (and viktor himself states that too) like yeah we dont see the whole process of The Man of Progress being made,, BUT viktor expresses how he doesnt want to go out in front of people in Progress Day, so jayce is very much just respecting his wishes and boundaries to not drag him up there when hes clearly uncomfortable at the thought yk?

viktor might also recognize himself that piltover will use his knowledge as a celebrity idol for people to look at rather than as an actual scientist for people to acknowledge and appreciate. he wants to be known for what he did, not a soulless face for people to gawk at. makes sense tho, irl u usually dont remember celebrity actions unless theyre negative, but you do remember scientist's accomplishments rather than what they look like

ppl bring up the hexgate blueprints at the end and how it only has Jayce's name on it as another argument and idk i feel like it has multiple things to stem off that before getting to the 'jayce took credit for everything' idea?

maybe they were changed after the whole cult incident, like viktor's name taken off, which yeah thats obviously depressing in itself. i think its more likely bc piltover wont want their whole gimmick to be associated with that incident, rather than jayce purposefully leaving viktor's name out of it... thats probably the strongest explanation imo. we gotta remember viktor is quite literally jayce's best friend- do you really think jayce would take away his best friend's accomplishments like that? lets be real yall HAHA

my own guess is that jayce was actually the sole designer in the hexgate design, and while they can share custody, maybe viktor doesnt take credit for things that werent his ? like yeah they worked on the hextech ideas together but it could be more like jayce drew up the plans and viktor helped with the science of it idk, but thatd explain why only jayce's name would be on it (in a non depressing way that kind of makes sense), bc jayce designed the hexgates specifically

maybe viktor didnt want his name on it either bc reasons i said above, tho this is unlikely to me bc he probably wouldnt want his name taken off if he was scared about legacy erasure,, but these are just theories idk

anyway i think blaming jayce for viktor's erasure is kind of - uhm -stupid because jayce has always made it his goal to not just save viktor but to include viktor every time he brings up hextech in conversation, whether it calls for his mention or not. because jayce knows drilling viktor's name association as co-contributer to hextech into the heads of other people is important, considering viktor's background, and jayce's own current social status as the golden boy: the leverage he holds when he speaks. people will listen lol

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 13

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: i have realized i dont link the polls to the fics. here's what won last time!! bask in your decisions <3 once again, the high valyrian might be wrong so roll with it and leave comments/reblogs ok!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Caraxes was never fond of being holed up in the pit, and yet, as King's Landing became apparent on the horizon, the dragon found himself beating his wings faster than normal. When the stench of the pit the creature's nostrils, he knew then, he was home.

Perhaps it was still because he was in his armor, but for Daemon, it was not until Viserys looked upon him, first warily then happily, and embraced him that he felt the realness of it all.

As the entirety of court watched the brothers' affectionate exchange, most thought the display touching... then there were the Hightowers. The only reason Alicent was here in the throne room to greet him was because she was queen and it was expected of her. And Otto did not want to look upon the dastardly prince's face, but he had to see what state he was in for the sake of his eldest daughter.

"My brother has returned!" the king announces, enticing cheers from the onlookers. Lord Hand promptly leaves after this, intent on going to you.

Otto asks the first servant he sees where you are, and is immediately directed to the garden. He is unsurprised to see that not one, but two of your wards are there, evidently on high alert. The moment they spot him, they freeze to greet him in unison, "Lord Hand."

"Does she know?"

The twins share a quick glance, and again, in unison, "everyone knows."

Otto releases a sigh. You know of your husband's return and yet you chose to remain in the gardens. He was about to ask the twins step aside, but then he hears the sound of giggles. He peers past the two, finding you laughing with your nephew in your arms. He rubs his forehead and clenches his jaw, "what did she say?"

Erryk and Arryk stare at Otto's distressed face. The former speaks, " 'he did not wish that I see him off, I should not see to his return'. "

Otto sighs deeply and wipes his face, "Seven save us."

Arryk almost pities your father for how worried he looked... but almost is not enough; he'll never forget the tears you shed because of him. No one in your family seemed to grant you grace.

"As it is," Lord Hightower raises his hands, "the prince is in good spirits, and I am sure he will not so soon look for her as he would the cups of wine he wishes to share with the king. Do not impose upon the prince if he does come around," Otto raises a finger, "but do not let his entitlement get into his head."

The Cargll twins not in sync, "my lord."

With that, Otto walks off.

Once he is gone, Erryk turns to his brother, "I would sooner fall on my sword than have her husband ruin the happiness she's so delicately built for herself."

Arryk gives him a look, "do not forget yourself."

"I do not," he snaps, "but perhaps you do."

Arryk does not take kindly to his accusatory tone.

"I cannot forget even if I wanted," Erryk looks off, "it my shift when she miscarried," he grits his teeth, "mine, when she tried to fling herself off the eastern tower."

"And it was mine when she locked herself in her bath," Arryk quips, "and when she threw herself at Caraxes, only to have the beast take her under his wing. Do not feel self-righteous in your suffering, for it is not yours," he points, "it's hers."

Erryk clenches his jaw so hard it's a wonder his teeth do not break. He spare his brother a glance.

Arryk turns forward and sighs deeply before repeating, "do not forget yourself."

"Do not forget yourself," he counters.

All three of them are wrong, Arryk, Erryk, and Otto. Otto was wrong to think that Daemon would not look for you before anything else. The prince notices is your absence the very moment he notices your sister. He asks Viserys, "where is my wife?"

Viserys looks over to his Alicent, who clutches her belly and finally approaches, "ah... she's probably with her boy."

Daemon pulls his head back.

"My prince," Alicent smiles half-heartedly to her good-brother, "I trust your travels home were smooth."

He completely ignores her, "her boy?"

Viserys thinks nothing of Daemon's words as he takes wife's hand, "where is your sister, dearest."

Dearest? Daemon's expression curls.

Alicent turns to the king, rubbing her swollen belly, "last I saw her, she was in the gardens with Aegon."

Aegon? Daemon's eyes narrow.

"Oh!" Viserys smiles, turning to Daemon, "you should go to the gardens and fetch them then. Your wife has brought forth new life to the Keep. I encouraged her to write about it to you, but she did not think you would find care to learn it through letters."

Daemon's face falls. New life? You brought forth new life? Without a word, he sprints off to the gardens.

Viserys is momentarily taken aback by this. Alicent is agitated by it, especially because she catches on to the ambiguity of his words. She she squeezes his arm, "do you think this is a good idea?"

"What?" he pulls his head back, "that he see his wife and nephew?"

"He might not take kindly to Aegon. You called him her boy."

Viserys chuckles, "but he is. She loves him so dearly."

"I know, but you made it sound like my sister had a babe."

The king pulls his head back and chuckles. When he realizes Alicent's worry was apparent on her features, he thinks about what he said and shakes his head, "I was talking about the flowers she planted in the garden."

"I know," Alicent repeats, "but does Daemon?"

"Don't be silly, Alicent," Viserys squeezes her hand, "Daemon is not that slow-witted. Besides, does your sister not write to him everyday?"

She clenches her jaw, "yes."

"So," he shrugs, "why would he be so sorely mistaken?"

Except he was; Viserys is also wrong. And as Daemon makes his way toward the gardens, it becomes apparent why Arryk and Erryk too are wrong. Both of them immediately forget themselves upon seeing the approaching prince. They block his path instinctively.

Daemon stops in his tracks, "out of the way."

Erryk stares blankly at him. Arryk shifts on his leg, "allow me a moment to announce your presence to the princess."

"Why would I need to be announced? She is my wife."

"She is with Prince Aegon," Arryk raises a hand and steps forward, "it is in her best interest that I ensure you are welcome while he is present."

Daemon is flabbergasted. He clenches his fists, "why wouldn't I be welcome around my own flesh and blood?!"

"My lady has only recen-"

"Do you deny it!?" Daemon snaps.

They do not reply.

"Do you deny the boy is my flesh and blood?"

The twins know the prince is riled up. If they persist, a fight will surely break out. Though they cared little for the consequences of quarrelling with the newly returned prince, they did care greatly for your peace of mind. This was why Erryk replied, "no, ser."

"Then get out of my fucking way," he snaps.

Arryk and Erryk stare at him. Eventually, they reluctantly step aside.

Daemon, in all his rage and pettiness, makes sure to knock into them as he passes. It was good he was still in his own armor, or else the collision against their steel shoulder pads would have hurt.

"Right, shall we go back now?"

The sound of your voice makes him stop in his tracks. How was it that he was so angry to be denied going to you just now, yet he now can't seem to move from his spot.

"No, my love, we do not pick roses so carelessly."

"Flower!"

Daemon's breath hitches at the sound of the boy's voice.

"You want the rose?" your voice is soft but audible, "you want to pick the rose for mummy?"

Mummy? Daemon slowly inches foward.

"Mummy?" the small voice repeats.

Daemon witnesses the moment the babe reaches for your curls. You brown hair is completely undone, spilling all the way down to your waist. A gentle breeze makes your tresses and skirt flow. His lips part at the beauty of you.

You chuckle when Aegon tries to eat your hair and pull it away before he manages to, "silly boy. Shall we ask Ser Arryk to pick the flower for us?"

"Flower for mummy!" he bounces in your arms.

You bounce him back, making him giggle as you repeat, "flower for mummy!" You flip your hair back, "Ser Arryk, could you-"

Your mouth goes dry when you see Daemon staring back at you. His hair is short and his eyes shine. You nearly choke on your breath, feeling your knees buckle as he slowly walks over. Your hold on Aegon tightens as he reaches out.

You step back. It takes him off-guard. It feels just like when an arrow was shot to his chest. Daemon moves towards the rose bush, picking out a flower, carefully removing its thorns.

"Flower!" Aegon coos and reaches out.

Daemon turns to him, handing the blushing bloom, "rūklon, ñuha tresy." Flower, my son.

You freeze. You freeze because you understand him.

Aegon gives a gummy smile; he shows all his teeth but he only has two at the bottom. He happily groans and grins at you when he has the flower in hand, "FLAWOW!"

You turn to the boy. His shining face instantly shatters the tension and unease you feel. You huff and brush his silver hair back. You freeze again when Daemon's hand comes upon yours.

You turn to him with wide eyes. His eyes are fixed on Aegon, "Rūklon, Aegon. Kostagon vestrā rūklon syt kepa?" Flower, Aegon. Can you say flower for father?

Daemon takes Aegon's chin, making him look to him, "rūklon, Aegon. Rūk-lon."

Your initially shocked expression melts into molten anger.

Aegon looks at his uncle, "rūklon."

Daemon is surprised but immediately pleased. He lets out a rich laugh as he turns to you, "he is good."

"Daor kirimvose naejot ao." you snap, pulling Aegon away from him. No thanks to you.

He pulls his chin back. He watches in shock as you turn to move the prince away. You glare as you do so, eyes beady and pink. His forehead wrinkles.

"Eman gūrēntan Valyrio Eglie sīr bona kostan bodmagho zirȳla. Emā daorun naejot jiōragon zirȳla." I have learned High Valyrian so that I can teach him. You have nothing to offer him.

Your frosty words make him pull his head back again. "daorun?" Nothing.

"Kessa," you nod, "daorun" Yes. Nothing.

His eye twitches as he shakes his head in disbelief, "iksan se valītsos kepa." I am the boy's father.

The severity of your laugher is haunting. His eyes widen and his skin pricks with goosebumps. You throw you head back, feeling a tear run down your face. You sigh and shake your head as you turn back to him, "you are completely devoid of both heart and mind, aren't you?"

Daemon too stunned to do anything but stare.

You turn. Daemon finally sees Aegon playing with the flower. You catch his attention by brushing his hair back, "my love," you start, "qilōni iksis aōha kepa?" who is your father?

Aegon looks up at you with little interest.

"Kepa, Aegon, kepa."

"Kepa?" he repeats.

"Kessa, skoros gaomas kepa gaomagon?" Yes, what does father do?

Aegon raises his rose, "dārys!"

King? Daemon's face falls.

You smile and bounce the child in your arms, "rōvēgrior!"

He tenses at the sound of the word. Rōvēgrior. Excellent. There was a time where you could not say that word at all. He taught that to you. And yet as you turn to him, your face destitute of any happiness that you had offered Aegon, it felt at though it was a memory he just conjured up.

"You are no more related to the boy than I am," you quip, "she is my sister's first born."

"Viserys said you brought for new life in the Keep," he mutters, as if he was afraid he heard wrong.

Your jaw feathers, but as the wind blows, you catch sight of the flowers, "he meant the roses," you turn to the said blooms. You laugh, bitterness pulling out a mocking smile from you, "how could you expect a son from me?"

Daemon shifts in his spot, ready to argue, but he quickly finds he had nothing to say to that. He thinks of all the seed he's spilled on your skin. He thinks of his persistence in leaving your womb empty. He thinks of the discipline he employed to ensure he would never finish in you. He clenches his jaw.

You turn to him; tears begin to fall from your eyes. Aegon notices and reaches for your cheeks; his flower falls to the floor, forgotten.

You and Daemon stare at each other. You feel your breath begin to shorten the longer you do.

Your expression falls when you hear Aegon begin to fuss. You immediately steel yourself away as you turn to your nephew; the boy looks like his on the brink of tears. You sniffle and shush him, "no, no, no-"

It's too late. He begins to cry.

You push past Daemon with little regard. Your wards turn to you upon hearing Aegon's cries. You say nothing to them, your full attention on Aegon as you rock him in your arms, "the fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red..."

Arryk and Erryk follow after you.

Daemon is left alone in the middle of the garden.

He has no word to describe what he felt in that moment. He was stunned, hurt, saddened, torn. He was angry. How could you do this to him? You had begged him not to go, and now that he's returned, you treat him like... like you hated him.

He laughs dryly under his breath. Was this a game? Was this your way of getting back at him? He laughs louder as he walks off. He could hate you back better.

Daemon joins the luncheon the king throws in honor of his return. He does not waste his time and makes a show of himself.

It is easy for him to fall back into his old ways once he is in his princely garbs. He openly and unabashedly flirts with all the ladies he can set his eyes upon and eagerly annoys and offers backhanded compliments to all the lords present.

It gets so bad that Viserys has to intervene. Even Alicent and Rhaenyra, who had not spoken to each other since the king's wedding, find each other's company just to momentarily agree that Daemon is being completely callous and tactless.

The king pulls him by the shoulder and Daemon manages to snag a cup of wine as he is pried away from the offensive conversation he instigated.

"I understand that you are overjoyed to be home," Viserys leads him off, "but please, control yourself."

Daemon pouts, facetious, "kessa, kepa." Yes, father.

He bristles, "iksan issare dokimare. Emagon mirri iotāptenon syt aōha ābrazȳrys." I'm being serious. Have some respect for your wife.

Daemon immediately shoves Visersys's hand off him at the mention of you. He snaps, "gaomagon daor ȳdragon naejot nyke hen bona aspo!" Do not speak to me of that bitch!

The queen and princess, along with the rest of the people present, turn to the brothers upon hearing raised voices.

"Uncle!" Rhaenyra calls him out, offended by the conversation only she and they could understand.

Daemon turns to her, chucking his drink to the side before storming off.

Viserys rolls his eyes and sigh, "Daemon."

Alicent walks over to her husband.

"Daemon!" the king snaps.

"Leave it to me, father," Rhaenyra says, following after her uncle.

Daemon is back at the gardens. He snaps over his shoulder, "fuck off!"

Rhaenyra rolls her eyes, "what has gotten you so sour?"

"HER!" Daemon whips back around, eyes red and glassy, "THAT HIGHTOWER BITCH!"

Rhaenyra recoils and pulls her head back in shock. She carefully mutters, "you can't possibly mean Alicent, can you?"

"Her and the whole lot!" Daemon throws a hand out, "they can all drop dead for all I care."

The princess watches him pace around. Her brows knit, "I would say I am comforted that you share in my offence over my father and Alicent's union, but I cannot say I do. I know you have long hated Otto, and Gwayne, as he's bested you in tourneys—"

Daemon steps forward, "have you followed me to further spur-"

"But what has -"

"Don't you fucking speak her name to me!"

Rhaenyra is taken aback by this. The two stare at each other, and as Daemon heaves. Her face hardens, "what could you possibly be angry about?"

"She did not even greet me!" Daemon points to nowhere.

Rhaenyra laughs. It goes dry when she realizes he was being serious. Her face contorts, "Daemon."

He looks away.

Her lips curl, "she just got better"

His brows furrow.

"You do know that?" she tilts her head, "right?"

Have you been sick?

"Seven hells," Rhaenyra's face falls, "you don't know."

"..."

"She writes to you everyday," she motions vaguely, "I have not been in King's Landing for many moons, but even I know this."

"War makes time for-"

"Then why are you angry?!"

"..."

Rhaenyra raises her brows at him. Daemon remains unable to respond. She rolls her eyes, "welcome home, uncle."

Daemon is left alone in the garden for a second time. He goes back to his personal quarters.

You see him from across the hall just before he enters but he does not see you. Before you can take another step, Arryk and Erryk each take hold of your arms.

"Release me."

"Why should you be the one to go to him?" Arryk asks.

You turn to him, "you know why."

"If he does not want to go to you, do not waste your grace on him," Arryk says, just as you pull away to turn to them.

"He does nothing to understand you," Erryk adds, "and he will misunderstand you so long as it suits himself."

Your eyes immediately water, "why are you turning against me?"

"We are-"

"You think I want to live like this?"

Erryk speaks your name, "he is not ready to face you."

"It's been three years!" you chuckle dryly.

"Let him come to you," Arryk adds.

You scratch your eyes and shake your head, "the bodies of my babes remain unburied, wrapped and sealed in a crypt, because I insist that they be given but one respect due to them in the tradition of their house, and you would deny me-" your voice breaks. Tears run down your cheeks as you try to compose yourself. You clear your throat, "you would deny my son and daughter this?"

The twins do not speak.

You wipe your face roughly with your hands, "well? What say you?!"

Arryk lowers his head. Erryk cannot look at you, but he cannot keep his peace either, which is why he says, "I say they would not want their mother to suffer at the hand of their father."

"Damn you, Erryk!" you shove him back.

Erryk looks at you in shock.

"You dare presume to know my children when I-" gasp, "did not-" gasp, "even-" gasp.

Your guards reach out for you when you begin to topple. They keep you upright and you find yourself too stubborn to faint. You wrangle out of their grasp and lean on your knees as you struggle to catch your breath.

When you straighten up, you look and see Erryk's teary eyes. You feel terrible. It nearly makes you lose your breath again. You groan and sink your face into your hands, "I can never win, can I?"

"Princess," Erryk mutters, "forgive me, I-"

"Enough," you raise a hand to him, "I will not have my children be the cause of conflict."

Erryk nods and keeps his head bowed. Arryk turns to him before doing the same.

You sigh, belly churning with sadness and guilt, "come," you take their hands, "my twins waited this long for their father. They can wait a little longer."

Daemon, through in his adamant refusal to read your letters, kept every single one of them, even the ones he trampled on in his anger. Three sacks of letters, there were three sacks that contained all of the letters you sent him, one for every year he was gone. He empties them out on his bed. He walks to his trunk of clothing and grabs the only one he ever read and rereads it.

He walks back to his bed and sits a the floor. He flattens out the parchment beside him, then haphazardly reaches for another one.

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔶 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔬𝔡𝔞𝔶. ℑ 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔫𝔬 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰. ℑ 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔶. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔰𝔬. ℑ 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔠𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲. 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔚𝔦𝔣𝔢.

Daemon flattens the parchment, stacks it on the previous one, and grabs another letter.

𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔪𝔶 𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰, 𝔶𝔢𝔱 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔭 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤. 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔏𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔏𝔞𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔯 𝔙𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔬𝔫 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔬. ℌ𝔬𝔴 𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔶 ℑ 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔫 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔭𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔩𝔶 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔦𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔶𝔬𝔲. ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲. ℌ𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔯𝔶 𝔬𝔣𝔱, 𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔞𝔡𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔰. 𝔇𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔯𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔦𝔪; ℑ 𝔯𝔢𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔣𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔡. ℑ 𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲. 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔶, 𝔏𝔞𝔡𝔶 ℌ𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯

He knits his brows, flattens the parchment, stacks it on the previous one, and grabs another letter.

𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, 𝔏𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔳𝔢 𝔤𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔯𝔤𝔲𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔥𝔦𝔪. ℌ𝔢 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔫𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔶 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔫 𝔬𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔯𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰. ℌ𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔡𝔩𝔶 𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡. ℑ 𝔢𝔫𝔳𝔶 𝔥𝔦𝔪. ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔪𝔶 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡. 𝔓𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔩𝔶.

His face falls at your sentiment. You think this? He wonders for a moment what he and Laenor argued over, but he cannot recall anything for the life of him. The next letter he opens makes him sit up straight.

ℑ'𝔪 𝔡𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤. 𝔓𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢.

This letter drives him mad, because it is the only one like it. He rips open more than a dozen letters, yet all of them are like all the rest. He reads some more about Laenor, some of Gwayne and Alicent, some of Otto, some of Arryk and Erryk, some of Viserys, but most of them are about the mundane things you busy yourself with. Mundane things you do to distract yourself from him.

He does not know what to make of it.

Then, he unfolds a piece of paper with hastily written script.

𝔖𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫, 𝔦𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔱ℯ𝓇 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓇ℯ 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝓊𝓈𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹, 𝓁ℯ𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒷ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈. ℐ 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓃 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷ℯ𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈ℯ ℐ 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝒻𝓇𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝓉ℴ, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒟𝒶ℯ𝓂ℴ𝓃, ℐ 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹. ℐ 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝒶𝓇ℯ𝓁𝓎 𝓈ℯℯ 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓅𝒶𝓅ℯ𝓇 𝒶𝓈 ℐ 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉ℯ 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝒻ℯ𝒶𝓇 ℐ 𝓂𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉 𝓃ℯℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃ℊℯ 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒽𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉 𝒶ℊ𝒶𝒾𝓃. 𝒞ℴ𝓂ℯ 𝒽ℴ𝓂ℯ. ℐ 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁ℴ𝓇ℯ 𝓎ℴ𝓊, ℐ 𝒷ℯ𝓈ℯℯ𝒸𝒽 𝓎ℴ𝓊— 𝒸ℴ𝓂ℯ 𝒽ℴ𝓂ℯ.

"I was with child?" Daemon repeats to himself.

He frantically grabs a bunch of letters and skims through them, desperate to learn more of this. He goes through 5, 10, 20, 50, 100 letters, but none of them ever mention such a thing ever again.

At some point, the letters become singular.

𝔐𝔶 𝔥𝔲𝔰𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔡, ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔢𝔞𝔱. ℑ 𝔭𝔥𝔶𝔰𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣 𝔱𝔬 𝔢𝔞𝔱 𝔬𝔯 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔫. ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔞 𝔡𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔠𝔬𝔯𝔭𝔰𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔞 𝔭𝔲𝔩𝔰𝔢. ℑ 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔪𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥. 𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢, 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔱. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔬𝔪𝔟 𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢. 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔚𝔦𝔣𝔢

They all speak of your apparently imminent demise.

𝔐𝔶 𝔥𝔲𝔰𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔡, ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤. 𝔄𝔩𝔩 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔢, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔦𝔱. 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰. ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲. 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔚𝔦𝔣𝔢

It goes on for far too long.

𝔐𝔶 𝔥𝔲𝔰𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔡, ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔫𝔲𝔪𝔟. ℑ 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔫. ℑ 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔞 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡. ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔩𝔱 𝔫𝔬 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔱𝔥 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢. 𝔓𝔢𝔯𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔰 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔶 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔡𝔦𝔢 𝔟𝔶 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢. ℑ𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰. 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔚𝔦𝔣𝔢

Daemon's stomach rolls. He cannot bare to read any more, and yet his guilt urges him to drink up this pain, as if it would make it go away, as if it could make up for what he had done.

The moon begins to fade as the sun begins to rise. He reads hundreds of letters that speak nothing but your pain and desire for death. His face is wet with tears and bitterness linger in his mouth. He no longer is on the floor. He lies on his bed, surround by his wife's misery.

He wails. He can do nothing else as he takes in your words.

Then, for the final time, the tone changes.

𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬 𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯'𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔫. ℌ𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔶 𝔡𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔰𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔴 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰. ℌ𝔢 𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔰 𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔥𝔦𝔪, 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪. ℌ𝔦𝔰 𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢. ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔯 𝔡𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞 𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔦𝔰𝔢. 𝔏𝔞𝔡𝔶 ℌ𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯

... mine own son or daughter. Daemon wipes his face.

𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, 𝔄𝔢𝔤𝔬𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔶 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔯. ℑ 𝔡𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔶 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔰𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔬𝔴𝔫. ℑ𝔣 ℑ 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡, ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔰𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔣𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔧𝔬𝔶. ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔶 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡. ℑ 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔱𝔬𝔬. 𝔏𝔞𝔡𝔶 ℌ𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯

He knits his brows and sits up. All the remaining letters are about Aegon.

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, 𝔗𝔬𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔰 𝔞 𝔶𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔄𝔢𝔤𝔬𝔫 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔫. ℌ𝔢 𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔡𝔞𝔶. ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔦𝔪, 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔶 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔬𝔬. 𝔙𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔰 𝔥𝔦𝔪𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰; ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔞𝔯 𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 ℜ𝔥𝔞𝔢𝔫𝔶𝔯𝔞. ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔣𝔞𝔲𝔩𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔣 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯; 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩, 𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥 𝔡𝔞𝔶 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔱𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔬𝔭𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔦𝔪. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫. 𝔏𝔞𝔡𝔶 ℌ𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯

You speak of nothing else save him. You do not mention your affliction, you do not mention your everyday life, you speak only of your affections for Aegon.

The sun rises.

Daemon did not realize he fell asleep until a voice of a servant wakes him. It did not feel like he slept at all; he is still exhausted.

He groans as he sits up. He sees a servant girl staring at the thousand pages scattered across the room. He comes to a stand and begins pick up the papers, "do not mind this. Prepare me a bath. I will break fast with my wife."

The servant watches the prince clean up after himself. She curtsies and does what is instructed.

Daemon had stacked the letters by date as he read them and now tiptoed around the room, gathering the papers in chronological order. He grabs his trunk and files the papers there. By the time he is finished, his trunk is stuffed and his bath water is barely warm.

Neither did the bath wake him fully, nor did it refresh him. What's worse was the scent of his soap broke forth dam of memories for it smelled like you. Resentment for his own folly began to choke him with tears.

His face scarcely resembled him. His angular features were softened with woe, namely his eyes. He cared little for the puffiness rendered him by his tears as he made his way over to your room.

Arryk and Erryk instantly spot him, both of them raising their brows and curling their lips at the look of the prince.

"Is my wife awake?" Daemon asks once he is before them, voice telling of how he had clearly been crying.

Neither of them find sympathy, only disgust and irritation. Erryk particularly despises how readily he refers to you as his wife; he was just a stranger, an evil-doer you had tragically married, "do you see that she's awake?"

Arryk's jaw tenses at his brother's response. He slowly turns to him with knit brows.

Daemon is numb to their hostility, too wrapped up in his self-loathing, "it is nearly noon. Doesn't she wake earlier than this?"

"Yes," Erryk instantly responds, "she did three years ago."

The prince stills. He now recognizes the twins' acrimony. He takes in a breath; he has no desire to start a fight, not when he's freshly just read about your affections for them and how they cared for you in his absence. Daemon wipes his face then raises a hand, "alright. Let me pass. I will wait for her to rouse."

The twins' shoulders hit each other as they block the prince's passage. Arryk tilts his head, "rest does not come easy to her. It would be best if she is not disturbed."

"I will not disturb her," Daemon quips, "I said I would wait for her to rouse."

Erryk raises a brow and motions, "of course, my prince. Feel free to wait for her out here with us."

Daemon stiffens. He grinds his teeth as he debates the truth of the sentiment. He stares at them.

They stare back.

He shakes his head and storms off.

Erryk scoffs in disgust, clutching his scabbard. Arryk scowls at the prince then his brother, "you dunce. This is what we want, for him to go to her."

"Yes," Erryk eyes Daemon hotly, willing his body be burned by his glare, "yet watch how easily he retreats. He wants only to go to her for his own sake, not because he wants to see her."

"Erryk," Arryk places a hand on his arm, "you overstep."

Erryk turns to his brother, "I step my foot is exactly where it should be." He looks forward, "if he really wants to see her, he would come back."

And he was right. Daemon really wanted to see you. Why then would he waste his time and patience in quarrelling with your wards when he could simply take the hidden entrance to your chambers? He knew the passages well, after all; this was his home.

Daemon's senses are flooded as he emerges from the darkness.

Your fragrance is nearly tangible to him. He walks towards your vanity and takes a vial of your body oil. He inhales deeply, feeling warmth cascade through his body. He smears a bit on his philtrum. He missed this.

He sets the vial down and brushes his fingers over your jewelry. He takes the robe hung on your vanity chair and smells it. His eyes begin to water. He hangs it back in its place and finally, finally, he turns to you, throat uncomfortably tight.

Your brown hair is fanned out behind you. Your skins glows with invitation to be caressed.

He kneels beside you the way you did before your beloved statue of the Mother. He scratches his eyes when his tears begin to fog his vision. He strokes the back of his hand down your cheek. He fixes the blanket around you.

He watches you intently. He so badly wants to bury his face into the crook of your neck, to feel you, to smell you, to kiss you, but even he knew it was selfish; even he could admit he was undeserving.

The memory of the very first time he had ever beheld your sleeping form plays in his mind as you act it out in real life. Your lips and forehead curl; you stir slightly in your spot. He sighs when the corner of your closed eyes begin to water.

Daemon wipes your tears away, speaking the same words he spoke you then, "amīvindigon sesīr isse ēdrugon." Tormented even in sleep. He strokes your cheek and hair, "mundagon riña." Miserable girl.

He cannot help himself any longer. He shifts on his knees and moves in to press a kiss upon your temple. He leans his forehead on you, closing his eyes to savor your presence.

All is still.

All is solemn.

That is, until you begin to fuss.

You mutter incoherences and begin to moan.

He squeezes your shoulder and kisses you again, "gīda ilagon, ñuha jorrāelagon." Calm down, my love.

You moan out in response.

He pulls his head back with and opens his eyes. You moan again and it becomes clear that you were moaning a name.

"Alyrie."

A line forms between his brows.

"Alaeric."

He feels his chest tighten. What?

You moan as your arms reach out, "stay."

Daemon pulls back, eyes burning with tears. You repeat those names and a pit forms in his stomach, deep and dark. You whine as you embrace your pillow. He watches you press your lips into your pillow. He hears you mutter, "love you."

His throat constricts and he clenches his jaw. He does not like this dream.

You speak those names again and he pulls back, deciding he's had enough. He repeats it, mutters under his breath what he thinks he heard you say, "Arryk and Erryk." After all, how would he know the names Alyrie and Alaeric when you couldn't bare to even think of them, let alone mention them?

And just as he did moments ago, he wastes no time.

Daemon storms away, grabbing a pitcher of water on his way. He is upon them the moment he throws the doors open.

Before either brother can react, one has a pitcher bashed to the back of his head, and the other is kicked from behind. Shrieks pierce the air; your incoming servants witness the brutal onslaught.

All that was not enough to wake you, nothing would.

You startle awake, terrified out of your mind. Not only did you wake from a melancholic slumber, you wake to the sound of screams and battery.

Daemon would have managed to knock out the brothers had they not worn helmets. Still, the blow to the back of Arryk's head left him in a daze and Erryk, who was kicked from behind and shot off to the parallel wall, was no better.

The prince focuses on the closer twin who managed to face him. He kicks Arryk on the chest, knocking him down. He quickly climbs upon his felled body and removes his helmet before splitting his knuckles on his face. He manages to land two punches before he is throttled to the ground by the other Cargyll.

Erryk did not mean to merely subdue him, he was eager to retaliate. He crushes his knee into the prince's back, squeezing the air out of him before flipping him over, intent on breaking his nose at the very least.

Erryk underestimated the raging sense of betrayal that fuels his opponent.

Daemon manages to grab Erryk's neck and squeezes it with all his might. The latter begins to choke but he thrusts his shin-guard into the prince's side, giving him little choice but to scream and loosen his hold due to the the pain.

Erryk finds the upper hand in no time. He pries Daemon's hands off him and launches a right hook. The prince shields his head, still, the knight manages to land some nasty punches.

"ERRYK!" Arryk shouts, prying his brother off. He drags his brother away, and in that moment, you emerge from your room, running barefoot in nothing but your shift.

You notice the twins first, for they were closer to your door. You release a horrified sound at the sight of them. They look at you with hard faces as you walk over, "what is the meaning of this?!"

Erryk shrugs his brother off and points an accusing finger, "the prince attacked us from behind!"

You turn to where he points.

Blood trickles down Daemon's face as he struggles to get on his knees. His lips are busted, nose ruptured, eye swollen. Your face falls at the sight of him. He looks horrendous, even worse than what Gwayne looked like when he fell from his horse during the tourney. A dozen horrible memories begin to flood you. You clutch your chest as you feel it tighten.

Erryk continues, "we would not let him disturb your sleep, but he managed to sneak into your bedroom-"

"What?" you turn to him.

"- then he attacked Arryk with a pitcher," Erryk points to the pitcher on the floor that laid beside a puddle of water, "then he kicked me on the back."

You turn to Arryk, finding his hair, neck, and armor wet. You whimper and wipe your face. You snap at Daemon, "what is wrong with you?!"

You watch your husband come to his feet.

He clutches his side and grunts out your name.

Goosebumps shroud you.

Daemon shudders as he walks over, "gaomagon ao jorrāelagon nyke?" Do you love me?

You instinctively step back where the Cargylls step forward. Your face curls in mortification. Your lips wobble and you shake your head in disbelief. You repeat, "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Gaomagon..." Daemon lowers his head, "ao ēdrurys yno?" Do you dream of me?

You knit your brows tightly. You grit your teeth and clench you fists. You take a step towards him.

He lifts his gaze when you do.

A shiver runs down your spine as he speaks your name.

"Īlē mirre hen ēdrurys nyke mi—" You were alll of the dreams I ev-

You slap him before he can finish his words.

The blood from Daemon's nose sputters to the wall. The action hurts more than the act. He does not look back at you.

You are trembling, neither from your affliction or fear, but out of pure, blinding wrath. You do not tear your gaze from Daemon though you do not speak to him, "the both of you go to the maester's ward."

Arryk and Erryk nod and regard you, "princess."

"Drag him with you," you blurt, turning to your open door, "I will be there shortly after dressing."

[adioringhamzah]

idk if u take requests but it’s worth giving a shot lolll!!! you dont have to but im sooo in need of the idea of being friends with benefits with hamzah. like there are deeper feelings attached and both of them clearly like each other but neither know or can bring it up…. this could be a one shot or a series IDKKKK BUT ID BE SO GRATEFUL

when you started being friends with benefits with one of your best friends, hamzah, you didn't think you would catch feelings

a.n : fwb y/n x hamzah, fem reader, sfw : fluff & mentions of sex, no fc, might make it into a series with pt 2 being hamzah's pov but only if u want!

you’re scrolling on tiktok when a notification pops up from one of your dearest friends : hamzah. "can i come over pls pls? :((" you read, reacting quickly with a thumbs up.

you already know why he wants to come, and it’s definitely not to watch a movie or drink tea.

for almost a month now, your platonic relationship has turned into something more. or, not really... technically, you’re still just platonic friends, but now with a few added perks.

it all started when you both realized you were single and seriously touch starved, but not quite ready for a real relationship.

the whole thing came up during a random movie night, when you watched a film about friends with benefits. at first, it was just jokes– both of you laughing and pointing out how relatable the characters were.

but then… you started wondering, what if this actually works? and it turns out it does.

now, whenever one of you feels like it, you just send a quick text, pick a place, and that’s it. no strings, no mandatory daily good morning texts, no explaining where you’re going or who you’re with.

while waiting for him to arrive, you brush through your hair quickly, wipe the mascara that smudged under your eyes, and for a second, think about changing into something sexier.

but decide against it since you don’t need to impress him and feel comfier in your pyjamas anyway.

when you open the door, hamzah’s standing there in his "vote kanye" sweater (which, annoyingly, you kind of love) and oversize blue jeans.

you let him in without a word, and he kicks his uggs off like it's his own home.

“so, how was your day?” you ask as he sits down on your couch.

“boring as hell,” he says, stretching out, “you?”

“same,” you reply, sitting next to him.

you both look at each other and just know you’re about to make this boring day a little more interesting.

"so what did you have in mind?" you ask him.

"ermmm" he starts to mumble, slowly getting closer to you, leaving your question unanswered.

he places his big hand on your waist and moves you even closer to him, now both of you being just centimetres away from each other.

this is not the first time you've made use of those benefits, obviously.

in the one month you have been doing this, it almost always went the same : you make the shortest small talk, then start by making out, before getting a lot more intimate and you can probably guess the rest.

hamzah actually loves making you try sabrina carpenter's poses, which had become almost a ritual.

usually, there wasn't any awkward tension. it felt natural as if he were your boyfriend. but this time felt weirdly different.

being so close to hamzah made you feel somewhat shy. you can feel his gaze all over your body while you look into his dark eyes filled with excitement.

he seems to feel your discomfort, backing up a little and looking into your eyes, trying to decipher whatever's wrong with you.

you brush it off quickly, explaining you were just lost in your thoughts and he seems to believe you, now getting closer to kiss you.

if you're actually honest with yourself, this friendship might not be that platonic (on your side at least)... you've been friends for about a year, and it had been one of the best of your life.

he always seems to "get" you, and you could spend hours just playing overcooked or listening to lana while talking about whatever news you just saw on tiktok.

but since you became friends with benefits, you felt different around him.

before, you had always loved him–as a friend–and really appreciated his company.

truthfully, it was the kind of friendship where if he asked you to be his girlfriend, you probably would've said yes.

but obviously, it never happened, and you consoled yourself with knowing that those faint feelings you have couldn't be confirmed... until you had sex with him.

fantasising about you two together was one thing. and doing everything you wanted to do to him but as friends was completely another.

you can't tell him, but after he leaves, you always feel lonely. a boyfriend would stay the night, make you breakfast, and check in with you.

whereas for you, instead of date proposals or check-ins, you get sent silly tiktoks or the shortest texts asking you to come at your house. never mentioning the intimate moments you shared.

once he closes the door and you're left all alone, you can't help but reminisce about his muscled arms around your body or his veiny hands on your boobs.

or even his soft lips on yours and his faint smell of bleu de chanel cologne.

and now, with him kissing you, all these thoughts came rushing back.

you start playing with his hair–that smells incredible thanks to his shea shampoo–, trying to distract yourself while he continues kissing you as if it was the cure to all of his problems (he must have a lot of those).

moreover, you can't help but feel jealous seeing his followings : a girlfriend could have a say in that. but you can't, and have to listen to him talking about whatever pretty girl he saw on his fyp.

but you aren't quite ready to give up on those benefits...

after all, what if hamzah has those hidden feelings for you too?..

next part

i hope u liked it!! also i love getting all of your feedback and what you thought of it, and tysm for the anon that requested this <3

[olderthannetfic]

Actually, sorry, nevermind with the pro ship stuff ! Did my research and I'm more informed abt it :) you dont need to post either of the asks I sent abt it (and I'm lowkey scared if coming across as a close minded purist prude whose disillusioned about being by one.)..either way ty!

--

*giggling*

The reality is that any new, viral thing from thirty seconds ago spreads easily on TikTok, most especially misinformation. Instagram is another pretty terrible platform just in terms of algorithms and how it's run. I wouldn't expect the prevailing understanding of such-and-such from within one bubble on either to necessarily be well informed.

The concept of "antis" under that name is pretty new, and the concept of "proshippers" is even newer. It has always meant "not antis". Some people have started mutating it to be about specific dark content, but it was always supposed to be about opposing censorship-happy idiots.

I don't find incestuous ships any freakier than other common fantasies people have. Same with adult/minor ships. You're seeing them in a distinct category because they upset you in particular. The feelings are fine, but they don't actually mean that these kinks are darker than all the other ones antis go after.

I know you think someone will be able to interpret "proshippers DNI" as "only the actually bad people should stay away", but that simply isn't what's going to happen. First, DNIs are moronic. Curating your online space means that you need to be the one blocking and avoiding. You can't ask random strangers, possibly your enemies, to do it for you. Second, people are going to have all kinds of opinions on which content is Bad Enough to count even assuming they share a similar definition of 'proshipper'.

This kind of "Well, we all know what the Bad Stuff is" attitude tends to have a chilling effect on a space. People are all paranoid that their kinks might count and self-censor far beyond what the person who said it expected.

Honestly, aside from the constant misuse of the terms, my assumption is that public proshippers on Instagram and TikTok are mostly into extreme things because anyone less extreme wouldn't have the balls to be public. The amount of death and rape threats from antis wouldn't be worth it.

--

As for my "rules", I don't have any. This is my personal tumblr, but since I leave anon on, people send me lots of things. I post most of them, but I get so many now, that I'll sometimes cut off a topic that has dragged on boringly. I usually don't post the threats I get unless they're funny and I want to mock them.

--

Re teens in fandom, I got into fandom at 13 on Usenet and set about reading all of the freakiest porn available. I read far worse stuff outside of fandom. I was curious, as many people that age are. It never did me any harm, and it won't do any harm to current 13-year-olds to read dark shit.

The people who get fucked up already have a lack of decent mentors in their offline life, are reading things as self harm, are actually being harmed by the social side of fandom where they've found some creep for horny roleplay, are the subject of a public hate campaign, etc. That sucks, but it's not something I can control or that will get better if we exclude them from fandom.

Teens would be better protected by their parents removing TikTok from their phones than by anything to do with fandom. Its short form makes it ideal for poorly fact-checked soundbites that sound good on the surface but discourage critical thinking or nuanced engagement with a topic. Youtube et al. are also cesspits, but TikTok has elevated predatory algorithms and viral misinformation to a whole new level.

Now back to rewatching miniminuteman. Hahaha.

[jammiesjars]

I still remember reading something about Kidnapper!Simon Riley a few months back and i still think about it. Heres my take 😭

Warnings: Kidnapping, probably a little ooc (not intentionally), dubcon

Kidnapper!Simon who thinks you’re the sweetest little thing to grace this earth, even as you kick and claw at him.

Simon would never force you into his arms, no, hes willing to play the long game. But when you refuse to eat or drink what he provides you out of protest, he wont watch his little bird starve.

“I know, birdie. I know.” He grunts in a sick attempt to be soothing as thick, gloved fingers push food into your mouth. His other hand is squeezing the hinges of your jaw to keep your mouth wedged open.

“I don’t like it either, love. I know your scared.”

He tilts your head back.

“Swallow, love.”

When he’s not forcing you to take care of yourself, he usually just quietly observes. He’ll leave puzzles out on the table for you, maybe even your phone on the days you dont bite him. (He doesnt tell you that hes bugged the damn thing so you cant text anyone for help)

Some days, though. Youre actions even suprise him.

There’s been days where he’s decided to give you more space than usual, where he wont even watch you. What catches him by suprise is when you purposefully seek him out, just to start hitting him or being all pouty in the corner of the rooms he’s in.

Its like you’re looking for a reaction.. He doesn’t understand why you walk in, all flushed and pouty just to start hitting him. Why do you-

Oh.

Wether it be sick delusion in Simon’s mind, or if he’s read you a little too well, he figures this is your reluctant way of asking for a good fucking.

He chuckles, striding over to the corner you’re pouting in.

“Alrigh’ sweetness. C’mere.” He croons, gathering you up against his chest even as you fight him.

“ ‘Ave i been neglecting you? Hm? Been too polite?”

He wrangles you onto the bed, ignoring the claw marks you leave down his chest and the weak protests and insults you spit at him.

You yelp as he makes quick work of your clothes, the cold air hitting your puffy cunt as soon as your panties are off.

God, its been ages.

“Fuck..” Simon breathes. If they could, his eyes would bulge out of his head.

He’s quick to fish his hard cock out of his trousers, the sight only amplifiying your protests and how you scowl and scratch at him. His arms are red with your marks.

“Easy, birdie. I’ll go nice and slow, yeah? It’ll feel so good..” He coos, pawing at your tits as his tip nudges your pussy.

When he finally fucks into you, as nice and slow as he promised, you hate how good it feels.

You hate that the slight curve of his dick nudges against that spongy spot inside of you so nicely.

You hate the praise and the way he coos at you, and how he tells you how ‘good ya feel wrapped around him’.

You hate the sounds that spill past your lips; mewls and whines for more, or just downright moans that bless his ears.

“That’s it, birdie.. doesn’t tha’ feel good, hm? Is this what you needed?” He croons, eyes fixed on your blissed out face as your orgasm peaks.

But what Simon loves the most?

The way you act afterward. All subdued and sweet; no longer scratching or fighting him. You lean your head against his chest, softly mouthing at it as your eyelids flutter shut.

God he hopes that seed took.

[noihavenosanitythanksforasking]

i cannot express how much i adore the dinner scene in 1x01. i think about it constantly. theres so much covert queercoding for mike that it literally drives me crazy.

the fact that just a bit before this we have the scene with joyce and hop where they imply that they are scared that will has been a victim of a gay hate crime. and throughout the season its implied over and over and no one really seems to give a shit. not even lucas and dustin. they care about will DEEPLY ofc but the fact that most ppl are expecting him to be dead and killed bc hes gay doesnt seem to bother them? the scene where troy is bullshitting about will in the gym they both just stand there, they dont make any move to stop him or call him out. no one does (this isnt me calling lucas and dustin bad ppl or not allys or wtv but u get the point).

mike however does give a shit. he gives QUITE A FEW shits.

in the dinner scene mike is clearly distressed about his friend. which is a perfectly heterosexual thing to do. in general. however hes not straight so its gay when he does it. ANYWAYS. he is clearly distressed about it but his entire family is completely unconcerned. nancy is preoccupied and doesnt give a shit. hollys a baby. ted is well ted. and karen. i need to talk about karen for a sec.

karen ADRESSES that she thinks something bad happened to will by telling nancy she cant go to barbs house until will is found. however she acts very dismissive of wills situation in general. im sure she was worried for him but she does it (or at least expresses it) is a very passive way. she is not focused on will being missing or what may have happened to him, just the fact that something bad happened in general to a person in hawkins.

the fact is, besides mike, karen is the only one worried at all. and shes not even close to matching mikes energy in the slightest.

when mike mentions steve, the conversation is totally derailed from will. as if it wasnt an important conversation in the first place.

nancy storms off. and ted. oh ted you son of a bitch. ted says the classic

"you see what happens"

line. and what a line it is. due to all of the references prior to this and the fact that most ppl believe that somehting bad happened to will. its not hard to see that ted is once again referring to will being hate crimed.

you see what happens when youre gay? bad things happen to you. and then everyone you care about is just inconvenienced. theyre lives are disrupted.

karen glances at ted, clearly understanding what he means. and mike does too.

"what happens when what"

hes not asking. hes angry. and you can just see the exasperation on mikes face the whole scene

why is it not weird for will to go missing. why is no one surprised that something mad happened to him. why is no one else frantic to get him back. why is no one else worried about will. why is it considered normal for this to happen. why arent ppl upset like he is. just bc ppl think will is gay? that makes it all make sense? bullshit.

mike storms downstairs and calls lucas. when trying to convince him to come look for will his argument is the fact that will took a risk to help the party when he could have protected himself. but he didnt.

mike knows what ppl think happened to will. if he just thought will was lost or something looking for him wouldnt be a risk. it would just be an opportunity to find him. but he calls it a risk. will sacrificed something to protect the party (mike) when he could have saved himself from all that suffering. but he didnt. and now mike will do the same for him.

[startheskelaton]

Hi! I know you tend to draw the trio (Sparkplug, Soundblaster, and Nightflyer) together often but man I want them to be friends!!! Or rather I want Nightflyer and Soundblaster to have the sibling dynamic where they're very protective of eachother bc they're the only ones who can fight each other. (But that doesn't make sense.) I get sad when I remember they aren't best buds.

But also in my head there's like this huge venndiagram of stuff they can all bond over. NF and SP see ghosts (predaking and Optimus) and have high expectations as the next Gen of faction leadership (if for Sparkplug, symbolically since the autobots dont have a monarchy situation) SP and SB were experimental creations. Unnatural freaks of nature that shouldn't exist but also like, they just like rock and roll cd man. SB and NF feel like complete opposites but to me they are brothers. But that can't go on the venn diagram.

Actually wait- this ask is getting super long. Sorry about that. But consider it a personal letter of sorts! I love your oc's I think about them all the time. Sparkplug especially. Adrienne lencker plays in my head bc of the angst. I love seeing the stuff that you post even tho I have no idea what the plot is like (I mean I do. But Idk what nf and sb are doing in the future. But could you imagine how they would react if they found out sp joined the djd? Not only that but killed tarn!? I mean, you probably can, but I can't)

But yeah. Maybe not post this one to the public to see (please. I just think ur stuff is cool and wanted you to know that and also like, my thoughts about your characters a little bit but I wrote too much. Id feel embarrassed if other ppl saw)

Awww thank you! Actually, SB and NF have something in common… music. I know I show off Night’s science lover tendencies more often, however he is a huge fan of earth music and is a fantastic dancer. He absolutely dose not understand the deeper meanings of wordplay or melodies, he just wants to dance.

SB on the other hand, dose understand all of that. He loves smart wordplay in songs and changing bridges. It was Nightflyer who introduced him to music in the first place! At the very least they have that.

And don’t worry, by the end of the story, they’ll be closer than ever (romantically! They will kiss)

[prettyboykatsuki]

i dont believe in falling in love through sex like it being enough to build a relationship on but oliver who accidentally falls for u might just change that. the man is a menace he makes my flight or fight instinct go off. but you know those videos where a baby deer cuddles big cats as a fawn response because no way they can outrun or outfight it? yeah that is my survival instinct around him

i get where u are coming from fs. however as someone who doesn’t hold sex as a particularly valuable act i unfortunately do think just sex is more than enough to build an intimate relationship on unfortunately shdjfns and i do think oliver Will Teach You That.

even if you place no value on sex itself there is something unique and particular to the act of having it with someone who genuinely respects you as a person. oliver is a lot of things but a lot of his popularity and charm are his sincerity of his approach. every person he meets and decides to be with automatically earns both his time and attention.

but he’s highly, highly emotionally intelligent so it is weaved with a very genuine sense of interest. he’s incredibly talented at making a person feel like he and them are the only people in a room because he is not like, faking it. he doesn’t need to. he’s confident in himself and his charisma, he is absolutely pleasant to be with.

and that’s in the scenario you are strangers. oliver is just like that though, as a person. and as you hook up again and again and again—you will come to recognize the minutiae. the small acts of respect and kindness. the little reminders that he listens to every word of your ten minutes of pillow talk. that him buying you ubers and tickets home aren’t out of obligation but a soft sense of knowing because he always texts you after, asks you if you’re home safe.

i think the comparison to being a deer in the claw of a big cat is apt. but then it’s like—if the thing that you’ve been told your whole life will hunt you down and gore you, stops its teeth right where your pulse thumps—is it fair to say it doesn’t love you at all? if it holds you, places its rough tongue where its fangs are meant to be, can you dismiss it as meaning nothing?

you can convince yourself you’re mistaking it for something or that there’s no grand meaning to your relationship that seems to defy nature itself. but the truth is when you and oliver fall asleep in the aftermath, he knows the exact minutes it’ll take for you fall asleep first and waits.

not to hunt you. not to leave. just to make sure everything is okay before he follows suit. maybe it’s not the sex itself i suppose. just everything that comes along with having it—specifically having it with him

[qoldenskies]

I do think after the movie Leo would reflect on his behavior of kind of always lashing out when he gets criticized or w/e and turn into like a slightly gentler version of that (something something leaders should know when to listen to people and when to go lmao no get this fucker out of here) but those are like the ONLY times I can see him actually considering pleasing people and even then he wouldn’t become a complete doormat about it, bro absolutely knows when to put his foot down about things

honestly i feel like people who make leo shut down and close himself off post-movie kinda lost the plot LOL i wish they kept that deleted scene with him and raph and talking about leadership properly in, because its a very nice resolution to their arc and would line it out a little better

really i think the point was that he's becoming more open and softening instead of hiding behind his usual coping mechanisms, because he had to look past himself and realize they really WERE hurting the people around him and putting his brothers in danger. his desire to prove himself had a blast radius. he really does take after his dad like that [gestures at turtle dega nights]

and i think there's still ways to incorporate how fucked up that all was without denying the positive impact it had on leo's arc like,, grappling with almost losing him is of COURSE going to mess them up. in retrospect i think they'd KNOW he had to, and that it was the right thing to do, but that's what hurts about it. i always just love playing around with the question "how do you blame someone for doing something like this to themselves when there was no other way?"

i could really just never see leo as a doormat unless you break him baddddddd. which i suppose is possible LOL you go guys!! idk i dont read most leo-centric stuff (especially not things where donnie's the one unpacking his issues because i always feel like it sacrifices so much about him), i tried out a lot of it early on and didnt enjoy myself and then just didnt rlly go back

[virrtualangel]

Beatle movie ranking

!!ALL MY OPINION DONT KILL ME I LIKE ALL THESE MOVIES THIS IS JUST FOR FUN!!

5.Let It Be

Honestly, it’s just a shortened version of the Get Back documentary. it’s essentially the same as Get Back excluding a few scenes.

i’m more inclined to rewatch Get Back over Let It Be because it’s more footage to comb through.

4.magical mystery tour

I am very well aware that this wasn’t a great time in their career. and for what it’s worth i do really enjoy the album. the movie itself is extremely confusing for me to understand. the only thing bringing it higher then Let It Be is just how much i enjoy the visuals. the music video segments are definitely a highlight, they’re delightful and visually appealing to see. UNFORTUNATELY…i do not know a single thing going on and what i did understand i didn’t entirely find interesting. The concept itself is a nice one, the execution however, wasnt. it’s framed like a family guy episode almost, where it would cut to a scene with no explanation. ringo’s aunt as a character didn’t add much to the movie for me, it felt like they were trying to do the whole paul’s grandfather from hard days night again but it just didn’t work for me. the wizards are nice and that might’ve been the only thing i personally enjoyed in the movie.

3.hard days night

Their first movie, woohoo! definitely the most grounded film they’ve been in. it’s perfect to show the sheer insanity of beatlemania in the early 60s and the beatles personalities and humor. the music video segments are lovely and delightful to watch. It flows very naturally with one another and each bit leading up to the big show is just as goofy as they are. paul’s grandfather is such a devious guy and works as a hilarious way to push the movie forward in terms of conflict. the managers and people alongside the beatles are also just as entertaining. the entire cast just plays off one another and overall it’s a wonderful watch.

2.yellow submarine

If Magical Mystery Tour was bad confusing nonsense then yellow submarine is good confusing nonsense. because at least there is a clear story and no family guy cutaways. being their one and only animated movie it’s such a beautiful and eccentric movie. the different animation styles used and colors of each new land they explore in is such a delightfully unique way to mirror the music used in the movie. each new area full to the brim with whimsy and color. even if it’s random, jeremy hillary boob ph.d as an extra main lead was such a lovely little addition to an already silly cast. admiral fred and the blue meanies are another set of great characters within the film that again just push the constant whimsy and eccentricity of the film.

1.help!

The only fault with this movie is the blatant cultural appropriation within it. it’s very obviously a product of its time. that being said i love everything else about this movie. it’s the funniest movie they’ve been in and despite rewatching it every now and then it’s still a wonderful time. every character from the cult members to the scientists and of course the beatles themselves bring so much personality and humor to the movie. the writing and cinematography is wonderful, this entire movie is a delight. the music video segments are so so so well done and fit into the story well. the entire movie is definitely worthwhile regardless if you know much about the beatles or not, it’s just a wonderful time.

all movies are definitely worth the watch despite my opinion!! this was for fun feel free to put your own input i’m open to discussion bc film review is epic, if this post does well maybe i’ll start posting more film related content…maybe…

[prettybiching]

MY SISTERS BIG FAT DESHI WEDDING IS DONE AND DUSTED AND IM NOW BACK TO DEVOURING MY FAVOURITE ANGSTY MASTERPIECE HELLOOOOOOOOO

Daemon is taken off-guard by how you pull away from him. He knits his brows, following after you as you head towards his niece, deeply annoyed by how easily you disregard him. But upon hearing the words you speak, he freezes.

For the 722819th time Daemon, please be normal for once (although his lovesick puppy behaviour is doing it for me ngl)

I would lay down my life for you my princess. On other note, I really hope that rhaenyra and the princess are able to find themselves on good terms despite the fact that alicent and rhaenyra are about to hate their guts. My girl needs all the support that she can get.

"Pain is difficult... but I've come to realize," you swipe her cheek, "it makes peace all the more precious." You chuckle under your breath when your own eyes begin to water, "I would know."

Rhaenyra's hand is quickly dropped when Daemon comes to your side, calling out your name. You sheepishly turn to him, apologizing over and back as he escorts you to a seat.

Girl bye, daemons disregard for rhaenyra is making me feel good about the man whore that is daemon 😋😋

...It makes her sorrow all the more sour.

Rhaenyra pls you're going to get your hunk of a bear guard to keep you company, leave him for us and dont pin after him 🙏🙏

You turn to him, sheepish, still, "I am. Thank you, darling."

ZOO WEE MAMA IM SCREAMINGGGGGGG

"Where is your father?" Daemon turns to Rhaenyra, seemingly not noticing your slip up. He did notice, but why wouldn't you call him darling?

omg slay you're so right daemon (for once!) Why wouldn't she????!!!

"No," Daemon quips, placing his silverware down, "I do not want to be subjected to tolling bells and incense."

Hey ho! The last time I checked, you're uncle not aunt. Stop poking your nose in other people's business omg???

"She has your sister," he turns to you, "if they need another companion, lend her your ward."

I want 2 bash his head against a wall. Thanks <3 The award for ruining progress should go to him.

The image of sorrowful wailing still haunts him, and your prayer for death is not something he wishes to hear ever again. You cannot pray such prayers if you are not in that fucking place, "I forbid you from going to the temple."

Something about how daemons intentions have perhaps always been misunderstood growing up and he's always been labeled as cruel/heartless so he stopped explaining himself. He had to bury that soft exterior and only knows how to give commands and now he's subconsciously commanding his wife to stop praying for her death. But she won't get to know it because it would seem like a weakness.

"You impress me with your commitment to understand everyone else but I."

Ugh, Daemon!! You frustrate me so much. How can she?! How can she when you're so busy fighting all different versions yourself at every moment that she can never predict which version of you she will get. I need you, to even for a moment, get over your self-loathing to look - and I mean really look - at her.

More accurately, you cannot. You clutch your chest and try to calm yourself before you slip into a full blown attack. You force yourself to take five deep breaths, and thankfully, you do not feel light headed.

Oh God, I'm not ready. I thought I was prepared for the bad parts but I'm not.

The thing was, you were still a terrible runner, and it if wasn't hard enough to catch your breath, you were screaming out the prince's name as you did, making it doubly hard.

IM GOING TO KILL MYSELF DAEMON JUST LOOK BACK AT HER FOR ONCE

"...as punishment for being unkind to your husband."

MY GIRL NO!!! NEVER. None of it was your fault ever and I can scream it from the highest mountain but you would never believe it, not even if daemon admits it to you. I will hunt down every man that has ever hurt you I promise.

"No!" you grab his arms, "you must not tell him! You must not tell a soul."

Oops I forgot about the baby doom again (mostly because I'm in denial and hoping that the destined chaos will simply never come)

"Papa," you mumble to yourself as you go to him.

No, stop. I will never get over how she instinctively reached for her father. And how Otto reacts to it like it's muscle memory (it is). Because Otto is her father, she has been raised being loved, protected and shielded by him. And Otto has spent her whole life doing exactly that.

The fact that Otto has tried and tested so many forms of consolations on you over the years, and it only goes to show that she has received a father's love- the only parental affection in her life - through the twisted means of Otto.

"The gods with strengthen you, daughter." he turns to Alicent, "I will take care of it, my girl."

Stop, stop, stop noooooo. This is the worst possible thinking that Otto has ever come up with. The idea that Alicent would have to sacrifice herself and her autonomy for the alleged safety (in the Hightowers' eyes) of the princess is going to be her end in itself. She would not be able to handle the fact that her baby sister is going to fall to the sword to save her.

Daemon ticks. He had been gazing into space, but now he has the wits to pours himself a drink, "is she dead now too?"

Fuck off you absolute rat. No but I need to see him react to some far-fetched rumour, perhaps when he has fucked off to God knows where, about the princess being dead and I just knowwwww he's going to absolutely fucking lose it mind like hah you little rat idiot, who is making these nonchalant jokes about her being dead now huh??

Your lips wobble, but you steel yourself away. You crush your sister into your arms and pepper her cheeks with kisses, "my sweet girl. I am five years your senior. I must lend you my ear." You pull away and cup her cheeks. You frown when you see her glassy eyes, "do not worry for me."

My heart just shattered into a million pieces. Justice for these two girls.

"Only I inherited your hair color," you mumble, beginning to tremble, "if my child looks too much like me—" you rapidly shake your head, "he will-"

Only once I need him to overhear just an ounce of her fear. Because I need this rat head to know that just because he feels this palpable love for her within himself, doesn't mean that she knows it and just how afraid she is of him.

Otto closes the door and the boy places the crackers on the table. The man circles 'round to his desk and sits down, "what news do you bring me today?"

I'm going to strangle some1 (possibly daemon)

I couldn't help myself but I already skimmed through ch10 earlier during the wedding festivities and bawled my eyes out at like 3am but gosh I can't want for a reread.

AS ALWAYS THANK YOU AUTHOR FOR KEEPING ME FED I LOVE YOUUUUUU

Tormented Spirit | 9

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS ITS STILL TOO FUCKING LONG I HAD TO CUT IT AGAIN. T_T canon stuff/medieval health care might not be accurate so ROLLLL with it ok. please consider leaving comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Daemon takes you to the dining room, and upon entering, you are met with Rhaenyra and Alicent, who were in the middle of eating lunch. For a split second, you are happy to see them both, but then you remember the horrible news regarding the princess's mother.

Daemon is taken off-guard by how you pull away from him. He knits his brows, following after you as you head towards his niece, deeply annoyed by how easily you disregard him. But upon hearing the words you speak, he freezes.

"My deepest condolences, my princess," you curtsy at Rhaenyra before placing a hand on her shoulder.

She is dejected and her eyes are sullen as she turns to you.

"She was in active labor last I saw her..." you shake your head, finding the words to say, "it is terrible to be without a mother," you turn to your sister, placing a hand on her shoulder as well, "the pain never quite leaves you. My sister and I know it well."

Rhaenyra turns back to her food, "how good to know."

You frown and crouch down beside her, "darling."

Rhaenyra slowly turns back to you, tears now falling from her eyes.

"Pain is difficult... but I've come to realize," you swipe her cheek, "it makes peace all the more precious." You chuckle under your breath when your own eyes begin to water, "I would know."

Alicent frowns, quickly feeling her own eyes well up at the display.

The same happens to Daemon. He watches three girls weep and his face hardens as he comes to Rhaenyra's side, "bisa tolī kessa rēbagon, ñuha riña." This too shall pass, my girl.

Rhaenyra turns to her uncle as he grabs her hand, heavy tears stream down her face, "ziry ōdragon." It hurts.

Daemon is supposed to say something, but then he notices Alicent begin to fuss over you. You softly brush her off as you come to stand. Alicent is quick to stand with you, and she is glad to have done so, because you nearly topple back.

Rhaenyra's hand is quickly dropped when Daemon comes to your side, calling out your name. You sheepishly turn to him, apologizing over and back as he escorts you to a seat.

Rhaenyra stares at you as her uncle sits you in the chair across her She watches how Daemon treats you, thinking she's never seen him treat anyone like this before, much less a lady. It makes her sorrow all the more sour.

He brushes your back but only calms after your food is served and he's seen you eat a few bites. He takes a goblet of wine but his eyes remain fixed on you, "better?"

You turn to him, sheepish, still, "I am. Thank you, darling."

Alicent's eyes widen at the sound of the pet name. Rhaenyra rolls her eyes with a huff. It is precisely that sound that makes you realize what you've said. You were used to referring to Alicent and Rhaenyra that, it came so naturally this moment, "I- I mean-"

"Where is your father?" Daemon turns to Rhaenyra, seemingly not noticing your slip up. He did notice, but why wouldn't you call him darling?

Rhaenyra clenches her jaw as she shakes her head, "mourning his lost heir."

Both you and your husband's face fall. You turn from the princess to the prince, reaching for his hand. Daemon clutches your hand as his brows constrict, "your brother is dead?"

"Just last night," Rhaenyra absentmindedly stirs her food, "his and my mother's funereal will be held in a few hours."

Your heart hurts for her, "my deepest sympathies for your losses, princess."

There is a thick silence for a moment. You all find it quite hard to eat, but you do so regardless. You force feed yourself through the unpleasant churn in your belly. After a while, you look across the room, finding that it looked everyone was experiencing the same thing. You break the silence, turning to your sister, "perhaps Alicent can accompany you to the temple to pray. It did always help me."

Alicent turns to Rhaenyra, but she does not react.

Your sister looks back at you and you give her a nod of encouragment. Alicent thinks for a moment, "a walk there would be good for you as well."

You smile at the red haired girl.

"My prayers are terrible," Rhaenyra mumbles.

You huff and frown at the thought, "it is impossible. No prayer is terrible, especially not one spoken in earnest."

Rhaenyra remembers how her septa would use you as an example for praying. She sniffles, "would you join us, aunt?"

You perk and immediately nod, "I would love t-"

"No," Daemon quips, placing his silverware down, "I do not want to be subjected to tolling bells and incense."

You all turn to him as Daemon turns to you. You slowly shake your head, "if... that is the case, you do not have to come."

Daemon's eyes widen ever so slightly in offense.

"Perhaps you can wa-"

"Kesan daor mītepagon ao ñuha ābrazȳrys," I will not lend you my wife, says Daemon to Rhaenyra.

You turn from your husband to his niece. Rhaenyra looks back at you, "he says he will not lend you to me."

Your lips part, giving him a look, "Daemon."

"She has your sister," he turns to you, "if they need another companion, lend her your ward."

A long silence passes.

Rhaenyra stares at her half-empty plate and decides that's as much as she'll ever get to eat in this moment. She pushes her chair back and stands, "I'm quite finished," she looks between the table. Alicent takes a final spoonful before standing as well.

"Raqagon aōha ābrazȳrys, kepa," enjoy your wife, uncle, Rhaenyra says as she walks off. Alicent follows after her, and both girls look at you as you stand to greet them goodbye. Daemon simply looks at his niece.

Rhaenyra, though she always harbored a special affection towards her uncle, could not find it in her to project her ire out on you, for you were nothing but kind to her, and after all, you were her closest friend's older sister. She nods at you as she leaves, "princess."

"Princess," you nod back and do the same for Alicent, "sister. Take care of each other."

Once they are gone, you sit back down and glare at Daemon.

It takes a moment for him to realize it. When he catches your look, his brows contort. You immediately quip, "would it very hard for you to stomach the ambience of the temple for an hour?"

Daemon turns back to his plate. He thinks of the night he came to you at the temple, "just because I came for you does not mean I wish to do the same for Rhaenyra."

You knit your brows deeply, not having a clue on what he's saying, "what?"

The image of sorrowful wailing still haunts him, and your prayer for death is not something he wishes to hear ever again. You cannot pray such prayers if you are not in that fucking place, "I forbid you from going to the temple."

"You forbid me?" you ask, flabbergasted.

"It is my prerogative where I go, and-" he turns back to you, "where my wife does."

You stare at him for a moment. You feel frustration bubble in your belly, "Daemon."

Anger bubbles in his belly.

You reach for his hand and gaze upon him in confusion, "the child's mother is dead."

He looks at your hand before his away, "I knew her mother longer than she has."

You chuckle in disbelief, pulling your head back. He looks at you, jaw set and eyes glassy. You shake your head slowly, "that's not fair."

"Isn't it?" Daemon laughs, hurt by your sentiment.

"Her mother is dead," you shake your head rapidly, "she who taught her everything she kno-"

Daemon stands abruptly, jaw and fists clenched tightly, making you flinch. He stares at you for a long moment and you feel your breath begin to grow heavy. You slowly reach for his hand, half expecting him to rip his arm away. When he does not, you come to a stand, "Dae-"

"You impress me with your commitment to understand everyone else but I."

His words stab you like a spear through the chest. Your eyes begin to water, "is that what you think I'm do-"

"Then what?!" he snaps, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks.

You begin to sob and you take his cheeks, "I'm trying to make you understand what I am thinking, why I want to go with Rhaenyra, because I know what it fee-"

"Do I not mourn?" Daemon swats your hand away from him. He quickly turns away when his tears begin to fall. He does not get to notice how you twitch at his action, nor how instantly your heart begins to race.

He walks off to the door, stopping for a moment, waiting for you to come after him. You do not.

More accurately, you cannot. You clutch your chest and try to calm yourself before you slip into a full blown attack. You force yourself to take five deep breaths, and thankfully, you do not feel light headed.

Daemon, too wrapped up in his self-suffering, does not even think to look at you and storms out of the dining room.

By the time the doors slam shut, you are able to bring yourself to go after your husband. You move as quickly as you can, convincing yourself sprinting was worth it if you managed to catch up to Daemon. The thing was, you were still a terrible runner, and it if wasn't hard enough to catch your breath, you were screaming out the prince's name as you did, making it doubly hard.

Daemon, on the other hand, did not have to try to walk as fast as he did. He is walking so fast, if anyone were to crash into him, they would shoot off and hurt themselves.

It doesn't take long for you to lose your breath, and though you didn't want to, your body to forces you to stop. You were so close. You managed to catch a whiff of Daemon's silver hair, but now everything was turning silver... then black. You reach to the side to lean against the wall, but you miscalculate your reach and shift your weight, only to slip and crash roughly onto the ground.

You're so out of breath, no sound comes out of you when you crash. The pain is immense, yet you are rendered mute. Your ribs throb at the impact of colliding against the stone floor. You do not know it, but your nose it bleeding too.

It's a wonder that you did not pass out. Or perhaps it was the gods' will for you to feel fibre of your body strangle itself from how your lungs struggled, as punishment for being unkind to your husband.

You do know know it, but two Gold Cloaks find you on the floor. They are quick to bring you to the maester's ward. You hear them explain to the measter how they found you, and you muster up your remaining energy to say, "Daemon... please."

The two Gold Cloaks understand and leave with the intent of sending your husband to you. They will not manage to find him till much later for he went off on dragonback.

You lie on one of the cots in the maester's ward, staring at the ceiling you've come to know all too well. You know your maester can do little to help you in this moment, but you are grateful for his care nonetheless.

"You mustn't strain yourself in your condition, your grace," the old man says, "you are carrying a child within you."

You tense at his words. Your sit up and straighten your back, rapidly shaking your head, "b-but, maester, how can that be? It cannot be."

He offers you a solemn look, "your father, Lord Hand, has made us monitor you-"

"He does not finish inside me," you quip and frantically motion, "he- he... he spills on my skin. How then can I be with child?"

The maester is taken aback by your confession. He does not give himself away though and calmly explains, "it is still possible for... the seed take root from premature ejaculation."

You are floored by this information. You shake your head in disagreement, "but— he will not believe me."

"He does not have to. It does not ch-"

"He will do everything to villainize me. He will accuse me of infidelity."

He frowns, "I can explain it to-"

"No!" you grab his arms, "you must not tell him! You must not tell a soul."

He pulls his head back, "your grace..." he brings your hands slowly off him, "you can only hide such a thing for so long."

You shake your head and bring yourself to stand, "it is a worry for another time."

"Wait- you cannot leave-"

"I cannot miss the queen's funeral."

The maester does his best to prevent you from leaving. He calmly tries to lead you back to bed and explain that no one would fault you for being unable to attend. You are persistent however and managed to get out of the room. Two other maesters come and try to reel you back in, and it is the same time your wards come running in.

News of you fainting had spread like wildfire, and both their faces were marked with avid worry. "Princess!" they call in unison.

"Make them release me!" you wail in exhaustion as you fight off the maesters.

"She cannot go," your maester says, "she is far too weak."

"Unhand her this instant!" Erryk barks, ready to forcefully shove the old men away from you.

The maesters pull away in shock and confusion as Erryk imposes upon them. Arryk is the one to keep you upright, and he is horrified by the state you are in. You lean into his armour, lulled by his hard steel as you sigh in exhaustion.

"You would subdue her in such a state?" Arryk snaps.

"She is hysterical," the maester says, "she is not strong enough to-"

"Aye, but she's strong enough to fight off 3 grown men?" Arryk grits his teeth as he keeps you upright, "have you not given her medication?"

He sighs, "there is no medication fo-"

"Then what business has she here?" Erryk raises his brows, "you'd keep her to rot?"

The man scoffs, "I am offended, ser, that you think you know better than I when it comes to the health of the princes."

"I do know better," Erryk snaps, "you will not treat her like a prisoner if she asks to leave again."

"Ha!" the maester snaps, "fine! I'm sure the days you've spent gutting men has made you learned in the ways to heal them, ser."

With that, the maesters leave and you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders. You sigh as Erryk turns to you, seeing the hardness of his face soften in real time. You frown, "you should not have done that."

"My duty?" he narrows his eyes, "they had you surrounded like a criminal."

Arryk nods, "I fear they might have bruised you."

You sigh, fighting back tears. You steel yourself away and shake your head, "I should prepare for the funeral."

You do just that and Erryk and Arryk escort you to the funeral. You immediately spot Daemon, but he was stood beside his brother and niece, so you did not think it proper to interlope. You find Alicent standing just a few paces from Rhaenyra and debate to join her, but then you see the Lord Hand farther behind her, and you feel the need to cry.

"Papa," you mumble to yourself as you go to him.

Your father is quick to recognize your distress once you come to him, and quickly takes you under his arm. It is so instinctive, the Cargyll twins are shocked by it. They were supposed to keep close watch on you, but they decided to give you and your father privacy.

Otto had long decided physical affections were no use to you, and yet in this moment, he pulls you into him, securing one arm your shoulders. You press your cheek into his chest as you steal a glance at the king. Viserys stands before two lifeless bodies, and the sight mirrored that of the day your mother died.

You wrap your arms around your father.

He sighs, eyes throwing daggers at the Rogue fucking prince, "did he take the news badly?"

You shake your head, "I have not told him."

Otto sighs again, agitated and disappointed. His face is crestfallen as calls out your name, "what happened then?"

"I am terrified."

Your father tenses and clenches his jaw. He strokes your hair, doing his best to ignore the awful sounds you were making. "The gods with strengthen you, daughter." he turns to Alicent, "I will take care of it, my girl."

After the funeral, once Otto made sure you are taken care off, he goes to his other daughter and asks about the princess. Alicent is quick to explain to him that Rhaenyra is so much like you when your mother died, "I have not seen Rhaenyra in such a state."

Otto offers Alicent a soft smile, placing a hand on her cheek, "you are ever empathetic, daughter, to both the princess and your sister."

"Sister did not look well at the funeral either. I should check up on her."

"That won't be necessary," her father raises a hand, "I've seen to her already. She needs only to rest now."

Alicent slowly nods.

"You ought to offer some empathy to the king however."

The girl tenses at the thought.

"Unlike your princesses, the king does not have people to go to at this time. Even now, he's secluded himself in his chambers. It would be good of you to go to him from time to time, if only to express how you keep him in your prayers."

Alicent tries to make sense of it. She clenches her jaw, "wouldn't it be more appropriate for you to do this, father?"

He chuckles lowly, "how much sadder would he be if a widower offer another widower his bitter prayers?"

She stills at the thought and understands. Or so she thinks.

Otto smiles and places a hand on her shoulder, "it might be best if you keep private your visits to him. You need not explain your concern to Rhaenyra to further distress her."

She nods in understanding. In truth, she does not understand the true intentions of her father, and will not until it is far too late.

As this was happening, you were trying to get ahold of Daemon. You could not for he was quick to leave the funeral right after it concluded. He had seen you crying to your father and wanted to wash his eyes with alcohol, unwanting to behold such a gruesome sight. It stung far too much that you sought comfort in that cunt face. Why didn't you cry to him instead?

Daemon washes alcohol down his throat instead with members of his City Watch at his favorite brothel. Mysaria is there to keep him company and though her touch and words are gentle, he cannot find solace in them like he once did.

The two guards who had found you on the floor earlier today hear about the gathering and go to the prince to tell him what had happened to you.

"Your grace."

Daemon sulks as he stares at a cup of wine. Mysaria, who was stood behind his chair, looks at the men then to the silver haired man, "my prince. These men want to speak to you."

"Wha-what for?" he snaps through a hiccup.

"Your wife, my prince," one says.

Mysaria stiffens, lips parting. She was not a stranger to Daemon's foul moods and prided herself in easily defusing them. It changed when he married the Hightower girl. Though it was evident most of his frustrations stemmed from you, you were too much of a touchy subject, which is why she says, "I do not think he wants to talk about her."

"A whore should not meddle with concerns she cannot understand."

Mysaria scoffs, thinking about how Daemon fucked her once and called out his bride's name. When she brought it up after, he screamed, telling her he doesn't pay her to ask questions. She steps back and crosses her arms, "be my guest then."

One of the two guards lean forward in an attempt to gain the attention of the distracted man, "prince Daemon. We wished to report something regarding your wife."

Daemon ticks. He had been gazing into space, but now he has the wits to pours himself a drink, "is she dead now too?"

The two are taken aback. Mysaria steps back a few paces.

"N-no, your grace. But she-"

"Then do not FUCKING mention her to me!" Daemon snaps, jolting from his seat. His scream was loud enough to cause the noise to cease. He grabs his cup and downs his drink in one go. He then pushes past the two guards and begins to monologue.

"The gods give as the gods take," he says, voice horse and eyes misty. "Try as they may, I am not so easily replaced."

The room is solemn as they look upon the prince. He is clearly distraught and wholly drunk.

He stares at his cup, "wine does not taste sweeter with tears. Tonight, we drink to the Heir For A Day..." he burps, "perhaps he would have liked wine."

Back in the keep, as Alicent leaves her father's quarters, you go to them, which is why you cross paths. She is concerned by how you lean into ser Cargyll's arm as you walk, and immediately comes to your side, "sister?"

"Alicent," you smile, immediately perking up.

"Lady Hightower," the knight greets her.

"It's ser Erryk," you playfully whisper with a smile.

Alicent turns to you and offershim as soft smile, "ser Erryk."

"You spoke to father, surely," you take her hand, making her look back at you, "is his mood grim?"

She shakes her head, "no. He is... relatively placid, I think."

"Good," you break away from Erryk. He assures you are firmly planted on your feet before releasing you, "I can talk to him then."

"Shouldn't you rather be resting?" she asks in concern.

"It is urgent. I-" you shake your head, "I cannot delay any further."

Alicent realizes then that your hair was fully undone and slightly messy now. You were also in your thick velvet robe, and it only causes her further concern. "I know I am not Gwayne, but if there is anything you wish to speak of," she squeezes your hands, "I am hear to lend an ear."

Your lips wobble, but you steel yourself away. You crush your sister into your arms and pepper her cheeks with kisses, "my sweet girl. I am five years your senior. I must lend you my ear." You pull away and cup her cheeks. You frown when you see her glassy eyes, "do not worry for me."

She chuckles rather sadly, "we help but worry always for those we love."

Erryk heart pinches at the solemn exchange of the two sisters. He is glad to know that at least one more person in your family loved you with gentleness. He makes mental note to encourage you to write to your brother.

When Alicent leaves, you take a breath before knocking on the Hand's door.

"Enter."

You walk in and find your father busy at his desk.

"Father."

Otto looks up at you, immediately coming to stand, "what's wrong?"

You close the door behind him, catching Erryk's encouraging gaze. He nods before you shut the door. You turn to you father, finding he was already walking towards you.

He takes your hand, inspecting you. He speaks your name carefully, and it softens your frigid demeanor, "what has happened?"

You smile sadly, "I cannot sleep."

He sighs, partially relieved it is nothing so severe. He walks towards the door, "I will have one of the maids send you warm milk and honey."

"There is something I must tell you," you say, making him stop.

He turns back you, antsy over your serious tone, "if it is regarding Daemon. Do not worry. I have designs to keep him on a leash."

You release his hand and turn to your feet.

His expression hardens. He knows whatever you have to say is grave because you can no longer look at him. He steps forward and takes your cheeks, "daughter."

You look up at him, face stained with tears.

"Go to bed," he wipes your cheeks, "you'll muster the nerve to tell your husband the news soon en-"

"He does not finish inside me, father."

"..."

"I've-" you choke on your breath, "I've spoken about it to the maesters and he's explained it is possible for the seed to take root from premature ejaculation but-"

"Have you strayed?" Otto tightens his hold a fraction.

You are aghast by his statement and rapidly shake your head, "father, I wou-"

"Then there is nothing to fear," he cuts you off, brows tensing, "your child will be born with silver hair and violet eyes, and-"

"Only I inherited your hair color," you mumble, beginning to tremble, "if my child looks too much like me—" you rapidly shake your head, "he will-"

"Enough," he snaps, shaking you slightly.

You chest begins to tighten.

Otto notices and brushes your hair out of your face. He recites the common prayer you used to pray with your mother, "Seven, hear me. Father, strengthen me. Mother, protect me. Warrior, d—"

"Defend me," you sigh, joining in, "Smith, mend me."

"Mend my daughter," Otto mumbles softly.

"Maiden, beautify me," you say together, "Crone, enlighten me. Stranger, guide me."

Otto nods and strokes your hair, "now breathe."

It takes a few deep breaths, but you are calm now. He leads you to the door and opens it. "Oh, good," he says, once spotting your ward, "you're not entirely useless."

Erryk walks over to you, ignoring your father completely as he takes you by the arm.

"Take her to bed and have some warm milk and honey served to her."

"Yes, my lord," he says, though not sparing the lord a glance.

You, however, do, looking back with a soft smile, "good night, father."

He is about to reply, but then comes a servant boy, holding a plate of crackers and cheese, who freezes at the sight of the crowded entry. He thinks he's made a mistake, so he turns to leave, but Otto raises a hand and beckons the boy over, "come."

The boy walks past you, mumble a soft, "milady."

You smile and nod, "good evening."

Erryk eyes him suspiciously as he enters the room but refocuses on walking you back.

Otto closes the door and the boy places the crackers on the table. The man circles 'round to his desk and sits down, "what news do you bring me today?"

"Prince Daemon at the brothel, milord," the boy says, rolling back and forth on his heels.

The Lord Hand's face twists in contempt. He pulls his desk open and procures a cold coin.

The boy gleefully takes it and begins to explain the events that take place.

[creatingblackcharacters]

hello ice!

i was planning on doing an interpretation/design of a preexisting character that has only been shown in-game as a sprite.

^ this is their sprite (clover from undertale yellow)

i was in the middle of drafting some concepts when i remembered from your lessons of how little racially ambiguous characters get interpreted as Black. i then quickly sketched up a Black interpretation of their sprite, with everything the exact same except for the hair turning into locs, the lips being two-toned, and the nose being wider.

this game has several endings, two main ones though. one where this character chooses violence and vengeance as "justice" and the other wjere they choose self-sacrifice ajd peace as "justice".

as a nonblack POC, it feels weird to initially interpret a paleskinned pixel art character as white, and then change it to or have another design/option/idea of them as Black. Also, it feels strange that the main reason behind me doing so was a sudden remembering of what i could add to contribute to the greater community, but i fear im using the character's ambiguous race and my presuming of them being Black is tokenization.

another small element is that all artwork by the creators done of this character has been protrayed as nonblack.

i dont really know what i should do -- move forward with them being interpteted as Black for only one design? for both? for none?

(also, i apologize if my phrasing is offensive or awkward or innappropriatw -- i dont know if its right to refer to a design as "the white one" or "the Black one")

thank you for your time!

Just do it lol. It's fine. It's a Black edit and Black edits are fine. That's what we all do when we make them- go "yeah, they were white. BUT WHAT IF-" and then decide to add a new depth of perspective to them, their designs, and their decisions, now that they're Black.

The fact that you even put that much thought into it is more than someone who was tokenizing Black character design would do- just make sure you're being honest with yourself and your motivations, and that it doesn't become a source of you feeling good about yourself rather than just something you feel passionate about, or wanted to try. If you genuinely realize you're doing it for clout, stop. But if you actually care, proceed.

And as for their character route, that's fine too. Black characters should have complex stories!

[floodonthefloor]

hey guys so really i want you to know i read and love every message you guys send (especially the longer ones but size doesnt matter haha! p*nis joke) even if i might not respond to all of them... i dont like getting too personal on here but i do just want to say that it has been such a profound form of validation and connection for me during a period of my life that has been a very Dark and Shadowy period

and that you care enough to dissect my work/share your thoughts/discuss how it impacted you, meeting me halfway, bridging that gap between writer/reader is something that has made me feel a lot less lonely in a lot of the things i have been going through as a person. even if its fanfiction about house of dragon lesbians! especially because it is! it's also incredibly affirming because fanfiction can often operate in these niche little spaces where stories can explore unique ideas/emotional beats that might not fit in original fiction. to have ppl recognize and celebrate those choices makes me feel like my voice matters and that my story has added something meaningful to your life.

so thank you for making me feel seen and appreciated and i am just thankful i get to share all of this with people who give it back tenfold. all this to say. please never stop sending messages like this to me and other writers/artists in fandom spaces. connection is so important especially these days with the State of the World and all we have is each other, even if its little anonymous tumblr messages or projecting feelings onto fictional characters you know?

im probably just feeling the end of the year sappy sap so apologies but yes much love from me to you ❤️

s