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organized-chaos-stuff · 1 day ago

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HEYYY I HAVE AN IDEA so like hiccup with saying “girlfriend?!?!?! That’s my WIFE” when someone says something along the lines of “tell your girlfriend to get out of my face” after they insult either reader or hiccup or just something like that

She is my wife!

Hiccup x Fem!reader

Since the words girlfriend and wife were specifically used, I assumed that the reader is feminine.

I had something of a fight with my father, and I had the urge to punch an authority figure, which may or may not have slipped through in this fic.

Warnings: None in particular, there are some curses and the one horny thought from the reader.

You didn’t really get why you were here. No, that was a lie. You understood why you were here.

One of the tribes allied with Berk had a dragon problem and as the “heralds” of the dragon-human peace and cooperation you and the dragon riders were expected to interfere in order to solve the problem.

That and Hiccup would use any excuse to get out of Berk for a little while. Plus, it was hard to really entrust that task to anyone else.

Politically speaking, sending someone other than Hiccup or the dragon riders could be viewed as Berk looking down on the tribe asking for help. On the other hand, someone inexperienced could make matters worse with the dragons in question.

There was Valka, you supposed, she met all of the criteria as far as experience and status were concerned, but while her dragon skills were unmatched—except for maybe Hiccup— her people skills could still use some work.

So, yes, generally, you understood why you were here instead of someone else. You even understood why Hiccup had insisted you join him. Not that you would have let him go alone. He was prone to getting in trouble when left alone for prolonged periods of time.

What you didn’t understand was why you were having a strategic meeting with this tribe about the dragon problem. Usually, you would go to wherever you were called to calm down the dragons, inspect the area for what is causing them to act out aggressively and proceed to lecture the villagers about what, why and how the problem occurred in the first place.

You have been here for what felt like hours listening to the chief go on and on about things you were far too bored and uninterested in to pay attention to. You were sure that you zoned out at some point, only coming back to reality after Hiccup had taken hold of your hand, tagging at it softly.

“So glad to see that you are back with us.” The sarcastic voice of the man sitting across from you rang in your ears. He was clearly displeased with your lack of attention.

“Yeah… um, my mind drifted for a moment. I apologise.” You said not really feeling apologetic, but trying to appease the man on the other side of the table nonetheless.

“It is alright.” His voice sounded rough and aged. “Not everyone can follow along with complex discussions.” He smiled condescendingly.

The bastard wasn’t even trying to be tactful with his remarks.

“Must be all the repetitions and dancing around the subject.” You said quickly, stopping Hiccup from answering.

Your hold on his hand tightened as he turned to look at you. He looked confused and a little concerned. Why were you stopping him? There was no reason to indulge this charade if this was how you were gonna be treated.

You ran your thumb across his arm soothingly, holding his gaze, looking calm, trying to show that it’s okay.

Hiccup’s lips pressed to a thin line, tightening his own hand around yours.

“Perhaps you lack your chief’s ability to comprehend difficult words.” The chief’s voice ruined the tender moment.

There was a meaning to be had here. Someone of your station shouldn’t be present in a meeting between chiefs. Other than the obvious insult to your intelligence. Again.

Oh, so that’s how he wants to play it. “Perhaps the problem is that, unlike my chief—” Gods, calling Hiccup by his title felt beyond wrong—“you lack the ability to be concise and to the point.”

Hiccup watched the exchange with his hand pinching the bridge of his nose. So much for diplomatic relations.

“Watch your words, little girl.” The chief raised his voice, getting up from his chair, wood scraping against wood from the force.

“Or what?” You get up, placing your hands on the table. Your eyes pinned on his, extending a challenge that, realistically speaking… you… would lose.

Hiccup let out a tiny groan as he also got up, placing a hand in front of each of you, trying to keep you both apart. “Aaaalright. I think we are getting way off subject. How about we take a break and get back after we all have—”

“You need to be more mindful of your people, Hiccup.” The chief turned his attention to Hiccup. “I can understand that love can make you want to be lenient, but even your loved ones are not above your rule.” He spoke with such conviction, like he was trying to teach and reprimand Hiccup at the same time. “You might be new to this, but you need to learn. Don’t insult your father’s legacy, boy.”

Your mouth dropped open. The entire hut fell silent for a second.

“I’m gonna wipe the floor with you. You sad old man.” You said as you moved to jump across the table towards certain death.

“NO!” Hiccup yelled quickly, wrapping his arms around your middle. “No, no, no, no.” He kept repeating as he tried to move towards him.

“Is this how you establish the law, boy? Get your girlfriend out of my face!” The chief yelled again. “And since she is so prone to acting wild, it is best to have her wait outside with the dragons.” He added, just as Hiccup had managed to get you away from the table and to his side.

“First of all.” Hiccup’s voice rose as well. “She is my wife.” He emphasised. “And let me be clear that in this situation, you are asking us for help. It would be best to remember that every indulgence and goodwill that has been extended towards you that has nothing to do with your dragon problem has been because of my wife.”

The chief was looking at Hiccup, surprised. You, on the other hand, felt rather smug about this particular turn of events.

“We have wasted enough time here. We will deal with the actual reason for our visit now.”

He was so hot like this… You are definitely fucking him once you are back on Berk.

…

Damn your brain does not know how timing works.

He moved to leave the hut, taking hold of your hand and leading you outside with him. You threw a pleased look at the chief as you moved and batted your eyes, letting the feeling of victory radiate from you and further the old man’s shock.

Hiccup kept walking after you were both outside, not slowing his pace or letting go of your hand. Once he deemed that good enough, he suddenly stopped and turned to face you.

He looked like he was about to say something, looking like a storm was held at the edge of his tongue. Instead, he just let out a deep exhale and let his head fall to your shoulder.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Really? I thought I held back for quite a long time.” You said, running your fingers through his hair.

Hiccup let out a weak laugh, putting his hands around your waist. “Still though…”

“Still what? I think I did us both a favour. Now we can get on to doing what we actually came for and then go home.” You said feigning innocence.

“You will be the end of all of Berk’s diplomatic relations.” He mumbled, giving you a quick peck on the lips.

“Not all,” you said, giving him another kiss. “Just the annoying ones.”

#THIS WAS SO CUTE AND FUNNY #first of all I love their dynamic #second of she was feeling froggy (iykyk 😂) and WOULD HAVE FUCKED HIM UP LMAO #also that is my wife YES BABY YOU TELL HIM love that trope #hiccup x reader #httyd x reader #httyd #httyd hiccup #hiccup haddock x reader #fic rec #ficrec

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organized-chaos-stuff · 1 day ago

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always find you

summary - you have been kidnapped but hiccup will always find you

pairing - hiccup x girlfriend!reader

word count - +1.5k

“I won’t ask again.”

Drago Bludvist paced in front of you in the dark and damp dungeon.

Your arms were suspended from the roof, coiled tightly in heavy chains, which meant your toes barley touched the floor and it was draining trying to keep yourself up.

You were so tired.

So tired and ready for this all to be over.

You had been taken - kidnapped - by Drago and his men over a week ago. Snatched right under the noses of your fellow Berkians and even your own dragon; Arrow. Drago wanted you for information on where Chief Hiccup was rescuing and keeping the dragons, so he could invade and become their leader.

You would never give up that information willingly, so here you were instead.

Getting beaten every day as if you were going to give up after going for this long.

The rate this was going though, you wouldn’t be going for much longer anyways.

Drago nodded to one of his men who handed him a whip. “Let’s try this again shall we?”

Your head dropped.

You tried to go to a happier place. One where your boyfriend was holding your hand, perhaps in the comfort of your home or even in front of the waterfall you had found together that one night.

You tried to smile, but it was hard to knowing that you’d never see Hiccup again. Never hold his hand again. You were alone here, because there was no way out.

Drago beat the whip onto the ground and you flinched so the chains rattled above you.

He just laughed to himself, getting off on the power he currently had over you.

“I’m not asking this time.”

•🌟•

“Hiccup we’ve already searched here.” Snotlout complained.

Hiccup didn’t listen. He was so far from caring what anyone else had to say. He would overturn every damn rock on this side of the sun and the next until he found you.

Toothless sniffed around as Hiccup decided which trail to take next. Your dragon, Arrow, was helping Toothless.

“Hiccup, he’s right. We’ve been to this island twice before.” Astrid tried to reason with her Chief.

“Siding with Snotlout, really Astrid?” Hiccup scoffed.

“Listen I know how much Y/N means to you…”

“No you don’t, because if you did then you wouldn’t give a second thought as to whether we’ve been here twice or even fifty times over. You’d keep returning to anywhere and everywhere until you found her.” Hiccup shouted to them all, instantly regretting raising his voice. He was never normally like this, but where you were concerned he was never rational.

“Hiccup’s right.” Snotloud said, which is something no-one ever thought would be said.

“Yeah.” Fishlegs nodded.

“Y/N wouldn’t stop looking for us.” Astrid added and Hiccup had to swallow back the emotion that came from those words.

“And neither will we.”

•🌟•

They’re not coming.

That was the last thought on your mind every day. The end of another day was a sign that you should start making your peace with never leaving here and maybe not even making it to live another week.

Your face hurt from the slaps that Drago had issued today, but not as much as the rest of your body hurt.

There were open wounds on your back from the whip where it had torn right through your clothes. There were bruises of all shapes and sizes forming on your stomach and chest. Your toes were so cold and dirty from being exposed for so long. The worst was the ache in your arms from being suspended for so long and the cuts in your wrists from the cuffs.

The dungeon door opened then.

Drago walked in and your immediate reaction, no matter how much you didn’t want it to be, was pure fear.

He acted as terrifying as he looked.

“Your friends missed you again. That’s twice they’ve come here now.” He chuckled deeply. “Clearly they aren’t looking too hard for you.”

Your eyes started to water and your heart pounded against your chest.

It was heartbreaking to hear that they were so close to you and yet you’d forever be so far from them.

“You’ll be here forever and they’ll eventually move on.” He taunted you, circling you.

You shook your head.

You refused to believe it.

“Hiccup will even move on. Perhaps even make Astrid his bride.”

The tears fell at that.

Drago knew Hiccup was your weak spot. Damn him.

“Sleep well, because tomorrow might well be your last.” And with that he left your cell, leaving you in the dark with your depressing thoughts once again.

He wouldn’t ever break you no matter how hard he tried though.

You would remain strong for the whole of Berk, but more importantly for Hiccup.

“I’m sorry, Hiccup.” You whispered to the dark.

•🌟•

“What is it bud?”

Toothless ignored Hiccup and sniffed around as his ears twitched rapidly.

The others started speaking up to try and figure it out but Hiccup shushed them quickly, letting Toothless do his thing. Arrow then must have picked up on what Toothless had, because the next thing they knew your dragon went into stealth mode and veered off path into the dense forest.

Toothless motioned for Hiccup to follow, so he did.

Hiccup took out his knife and prepared himself for anything.

The forest was so thick it was hard to see ten metres ahead of them, but thanks to the team of them they were able to cover more ground and each others backs.

“Hiccup… We may have to prepare for the reality that Y/N…”

“Is alive.” Hiccup interrupted Astrid from her real possibility to remain in his fantasy, “I would feel it otherwise.”

“Okay.” Astrid believed him.

And so they continued.

•🌟•

You woke to the sound of men shouting and dragon’s snarling.

The room was so dark you couldn’t tell whether it was the same day or not, but you couldn’t have slept for very long because you still felt the wounds on your back drip with blood.

The shouting grew louder and men screamed in fear.

Your fists clenched as you prepared for the worst, your feet scrambling for a proper footing on the floor.

Your heartbeat was so loud that you were sure it could be heard within the four walls of this dungeon. You anticipated the worst as the screams sounded like they’d reached your door.

The door didn’t open with a key, but instead swung completely off its hinges and slammed down onto the floor in front of you.

You expected Drago to enter to get rid of you.

You certainly didn’t expect to see Hiccup there.

Wait..

“No. No you’re not real.” You sobbed as you saw Hiccup waste no time in entering the dungeon. He lifted his iron mask and threw it onto the floor like he couldn’t care less about it.

“Y/N..”

“You can’t be real. I thought…”

Hiccup was right in front of you now and he cupped your cheeks to prove that he was right there with you.

Tears were running down his cheeks as much as they were yours.

“I’m here.” He croaked.

He got to work instantly. He snapped the chains from the ceiling, but before you could fall to the floor you felt Toothless brace your fall and help stand you up.

The touch of Toothless’ scales felt surreal.

You cried as you came to terms with the fact that Toothless and Hiccup were here.

“I’m here.” He repeated, pulling you in for the tightest hug you could imagine. It was better than any dream you’ve had for the last week.

“I..I can’t…” You choked on your sobs, not being able to catch your breath.

“Yes you can.”

Hiccup used one of his hands to push your face into his neck for you to find refuge. His scent was overwhelming. It grounded you to the point where your knees went weak, but luckily Toothless was still there.

You couldn’t grip him too tight because your arms were completely numb from any feeling, but the feeling of him completely wrapped around you was plenty.

“We’re here. I’ve got you.” Hiccup repeated over and over as your sobs continued.

“Hiccup.” You cried tiredly.

“I’m right here.” He squeezed you. “Right here.”

“Don’t let go.”

“I won’t, but we need to get out of here, okay? Do you trust me?”

“Always.” You nodded from the safety of his neck.

“Okay. Toothless, a little help bud.”

•🌟•

You woke up in your house.

Your eyes adjusted slowly, but you did note that it was nighttime due to the fires being lit. Arrow was nestled next to the fire with Toothless soundly sleeping.

You tilted your head to the side and saw Hiccup sitting at the end of the bed with his arms knelt on his knees.

“Hic…” Your throat was dry so you couldn’t get out much more.

His head whipped around to face you and you tried your best to smile as his face shone from seeing you awake.

“Y/N, love.” He rounded the bed to your side and sat next to you.

His hands cupped your face softly.

Your tears fell from how tender your skin felt beneath his hands and how foreign a gentle touch now felt.

Hiccup was your home and you were glad to be with him again.

“Welcome home.” He leant down to kiss your forehead.

“Thank you, for everything.”

#SOOOOO GOOOD #I love this trope so much I just want someone to rescue me T-T #he would walk through fire for her #and toothless is such a sweetie #hiccup x reader #hiccup how to train your dragon #hiccup and toothless #httyd hiccup #fic rec #ficrec

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organized-chaos-stuff · 1 day ago

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If We Talked

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: After overhearing some choice words between Bucky and his best friend, you make the difficult decision to avoid him. For a week. Bucky loses his mind in the process.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Some angst and miscommunication

a/n: I love this trope!! It was so fun to write a little one and I loveee reading it. I hope you enjoy!! Thank you for reading ily ❤️❤️

Masterlist

You fought off the swell of your throat with tight lips, stirring the contents of the pot with unnecessary care. He was staring at you. He had been staring at you from the moment he came inside, but there was nothing you could do about it—nothing you should do about it.

The spices from the haphazardly thrown-together dinner were beginning to burn your eyes. This felt awful. The past week had felt awful.

After overhearing Bucky call you intense, everything you felt was amplified.

It had been an accident, you being at his apartment at that exact moment. You were dropping by unannounced, but you hadn’t even knocked on the door before his words had vibrated past the locked threshold of the door. And then you had left.

You had taken great care to be less intense over the past week. This was the first time Bucky had been in your apartment since that day, and that hadn’t been without struggle. He asked to come over several times, even showing up and knocking on the door while you pretended to be asleep. It all felt very juvenile—the ignoring and avoiding and missing calls. But you didn’t know how else to respond.

You loved Bucky. You loved him and it felt intense, but, apparently, things had moved too fast for him. A few months of dating were not enough. You were too much.

You had told him you loved him for the first time just days before you overheard his confession, so connecting the dots hadn’t been very hard.

You were too much.

Avoiding him had been made easier by your intense work schedule. You stayed overtime and texted brief excuses. That had worked for a time. But last night, Bucky showed up at your office with a bag of takeout and an uncomfortably furrowed brow, and you knew it was probably time to face this.

You gave him space for a week, and now it was time to practice being less intense in person. You couldn’t avoid him forever. And it hurt—being away from him for too long. Not that you would admit that. Not now.

“I don’t know how good this is going to be,” you huffed out a laugh, ladling noodles into two bowls. “It’s a new recipe, and I’m kinda low on groceries.”

When you glanced up at Bucky sitting on the couch, his smile looked strained. “‘M sure it’ll be great.”

You replied with a short smile, glancing down at the bowls as you joined him in the living room. You sat far enough away for it to make sense—one cushion over, not halfway in his lap like you used to. The television created a soft backdrop of some show you weren’t paying attention to, but the meal was otherwise silent.

You missed kissing him.

When he came in, you gave him one quick press of your lips and then darted back to the kitchen, ignoring the feel of his hands on your waist as they rushed to grab you. He was only doing all of that to appease you—the calls and trips to your office and the affection.

If you let him do what he didn’t want to do, you would lose him.

“Well,” you prompted, your teasing smile almost wobbling over the bowl. “How is it?”

Bucky caught your eye from the other side of the small couch. His expression narrowed on your mouth, and then he winced, almost imperceptibly.

Something dropped in your gut.

“It’s good, sweetheart.”

You kept up your smile, but as you turned back to your meal and pretended to watch TV, everything felt final. Your jaw was stiff as you took your next bite, the food tasting like nothing and curdling in your stomach. You hadn’t done enough. You hadn’t given him enough space. He had been so adamant about coming over because this was the end.

You left your bowl half-filled when you placed it on the coffee table, the smell of it nauseating. The inside of your cheek was bleeding from where you bit into it.

“Done already?” Bucky asked. He had finished a few minutes before you, his dish next to yours, and his arm looped back behind the couch. He wasn’t touching you. Almost, but not.

“Yeah,” you replied. The single word sounded unstable, and you cursed your throat for feeling so thick with anxiety. You looked at Bucky from the corner of your eye, only to find his eyes closed and his expression pinched.

Your lips parted. Were you going to beg? That would only make it worse, surely. Too intense, too much.

Maybe this would be for the best. Some time for a break would—

“Please, tell me how to fix this.”

You blinked at the TV, and then you blinked over towards Bucky, lips still parted but no words escaping them.

A pause as breath was caught in the heaviness of your chest, and then, “What?”

Bucky moved his tongue to his cheek, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees. He was wearing a hoodie today, and it felt so uncharacteristic that you had almost been distracted at the door.

“I can’t… I can’t lose you, okay? I don’t know what I did, but you gotta tell me or I’m—” his hands came up to run over his head and fall at the nape of his neck. “—just tell me what I did, sweetheart. Please.”

He turned to look at you then, only a foot of space between you but the distance almost stifling. Your hands clenched atop your knees, and he watched them, eyes flickering to any movement you made. He tracked your unsteady breath, the way your gaze couldn’t stay rooted in one place, and each minute shift in your features.

“I don’t—I don’t understand,” you offered, because it was the truth.

Bucky’s jaw rocked to the side. “You barely said three words to me this week. You didn’t want me over—didn’t want to see me. I fought through your building security to bring you dinner, and you looked… Baby, I walked through the door and looked about ready to cry. I mean, you didn’t even—you barely even kissed me today.”

Your gentle sigh weighed down your chest. You dropped your gaze down to the couch, unaware that Bucky was desperately trying to find himself there, leaning his head down to no avail. This didn’t make any sense. You really couldn’t do anything right, it seemed.

“It’s just—baby, I thought you said—” Bucky started, speaking in such disjointed sentences you looked up to try and parse them out. His shoulders untensed as you did, but then he said, “Thought you loved me, is that still true?” and the confusing swirl of emotions turned to devastation.

“I do,” you fervently replied, shaking your head as if that made sense. “Of course I do, Bucky, but you…”

“I what?” Bucky rushed to get clarification, the vulnerability so clear on his face it made you ache.

“I thought I was too much for you. I was trying to give you space. I thought you were going to end things tonight.”

“Why in the hell would you think that?” he exasperated, the words harsh but his delivery of them so gentle.

You bit into your bottom lip and let out another breath, the pressure on your chest looming down into your ribs. The fists on your knees moved to pick at a loose thread on the couch.

“I came by on Saturday—to your apartment, I mean. You left your jacket in my car, and I knew you were going to be out late with Sam.”

“But I didn’t—”

“I never actually got inside your apartment,” you revealed, knocking your head to the side, still unable to fully meet his gaze.

A tick of silence passed.

“You heard me.”

This was the worst part. It made you seem immature, eavesdropping from the hall of his building. It made you seem immature, and you were also petty because you avoided him for a week. You fought the urge to allow the couch to swallow you whole.

“I didn’t mean to hear you,” you stressed, pulling and tugging at the loose corner of your cushion. “I left pretty quickly. I didn’t—”

“Hey,” Bucky interrupted. He placed fingers under your chin, forcing your gaze up to his. The concern in his features masked lingering hurt, and you moved your hands into your lap to squeeze them together instead. “What did you hear, baby?”

You flickered your gaze between his eyes. “I’m not mad at you. I understand, you know? I wouldn’t want—”

“Y/n. What did you hear?”

“That you think I’m too intense. That this—us—is too much, maybe.”

Bucky kept you in his hold, but he closed his eyes. The hurt melted from his face only to be replaced with something akin to regret. He shook his head slightly, jutted out his jaw, and then he looked at you once again, his features strained.

“Damn,” he whispered. The fingers under your chin moved to cup your cheek, rubbing soothing shapes there. “Thought you were leaving me, did you know that? Whole time this has been my own fault. God.”

Bucky shifted forward on the couch until your legs were pressed close. You untucked yours to accommodate him, greedy for the contact despite your confusion, and he only got closer. When his forehead touched yours, you gave in to the burn in your waterline, vision blurrier than it had been.

“I love you so goddamn much,” Bucky began, moving back only an inch to find your watery gaze. “When I said you were intense, I meant that this is the most I’ve ever felt for someone. That the intensity was mutual. That maybe, at the rate we’re going, it would be too much for you. I was asking Sam for advice—seeing if he thought I should back off.”

“You?” you asked, the word crackling in your throat.

“Yeah, me, sweetheart. Not you. I was afraid you were gonna bolt one of these days. I’m not exactly the easiest to get along with, according to quite a few people, and I know that loving you means that I’m probably the worst around you.”

The muscle at the corner of your mouth twitched, and along with it went the stress that had settled in every nerve ending in your body. The tension in your jaw released, your chest began to ease, and the only remaining negative was the sadness at Bucky’s confession—at his fronted vulnerability.

You reached up to catch his wrist in your grip, and he responded by bringing his other hand up to hold you fully.

“I love you,” you affirmed. Bucky’s own smile was sad. “I’ve never thought about ‘bolting.’ I spent this entire week sad and lonely because I was afraid you were going to leave me. I was trying to show you that I could be… chill, I guess.”

“Chill?” Bucky repeated with a scoff-like laugh, brows shooting up as he brushed his thumbs along the dampness of your cheeks. “I drove past your apartment every night this week. I used that shampoo you left in my shower just to make my bed smell like you again. I wrote…God, I wrote you this letter because I figured maybe if you got something in the mail—”

“You sent me mail?” you interrupted.

Bucky’s face blushed a bashful pink, his mouth open in a defensive smile. “We can forget about the mail, okay? Now that we’re talking it out.”

“Right. I’m going to check my mail when you leave.”

“Hey,” he demanded, his playful, pointed look reorienting you to the reason behind the tears now drying on your face. When you settled back into his gaze, Bucky readjusted you in his hands, bringing your head into his shoulder until you were fully in his arms. “I love you, you got that? I’m sorry you heard what you did and thought—thought that wasn’t true. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I never want to feel like that again—like I’m losing you.”

You tightened your fingers into the material of Bucky’s hoodie, taking a moment to relish in his arms around you. You nodded against him, hoping that would suffice, and it did. He kissed the side of your head and leaned back against the couch, bringing you with him.

“Can’t even check the mail,” Bucky eventually grumbled out. “You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving any time soon.”

#OH MY GOOOOD I LOVE ANGST WITH A HAPPY SAPPY ENDING #I too would shut down if I thought someone thought I was too much #they are both emotionally challenged and it’s great lmao it works for them I can tell #my baby has been through so much he just wants to be happy and have someone with him forever T-T #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #marvel fic #mcu fic #fic rec #ficrec

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organized-chaos-stuff · 1 day ago

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Where the cradle lies empty

Daemon Targaryen x reader

angst

A/N: Hi again, loves 💀. Back at it with more Daemon angst because apparently emotional devastation is my love language. If it doesn’t ache a little… did I even write it? Suffer beautifully. 💋

————

They bury your child before the sun rises.

There is no fanfare. No ceremonial rites. No white cloaks or dragon’s cry to send the soul to the gods. Just the sound of earth being shoveled over a box that’s too small. You stand a few paces away, arms hanging limp at your sides, your body hollowed out by too many nights without sleep, too many hours of bleeding on cold stone floors while the maesters whispered things you weren’t meant to hear. You do not weep anymore. You did enough of that when the baby stopped kicking. When they told you that your babe had ill heart and there was nothing they could do. When Daemon didn’t come back in time.

He should have been here.

The rage you once clung to has thinned into something worse. Disbelief. He swore he’d be gone only a fortnight. He left with fire in his eyes and steel in his hand, chasing some fool’s errand in the Vale to prove his loyalty to Viserys. You begged him not to go. You were already so far along. You felt your daughter move like a tempest in your belly and told him she would come early. He kissed your forehead, called you dramatic, and promised he’d return before the first snow fell.

That was seven weeks ago.

You named her alone. Held her alone. Felt her warmth fade in your arms as the sun dipped behind the walls of the Red Keep and you begged the gods, old and new, to take you instead.

When Daemon finally arrives, it is long past the burial. His armor is still bloodstained. His face gaunt from war. He smells of horse and smoke and the salt of long travel. But you feel none of it. You feel only the tremor in your knees when you see him dismount. Only the scream rising in your throat, the one that never makes it past your lips.

He looks at you like he doesn’t understand. Like the pieces haven’t fallen into place.

“Where is she?” he asks.

You cannot speak.

He says her name, the one you carved into your chest with your own voice, syllable by syllable, the one no one else has dared utter. It shatters something in you. You turn and walk back into the keep.

He follows. Of course he does. He always chases too late.

Inside, the nursery remains untouched. You haven’t had the strength to face it. The maids do not dare enter either. The swaddling cloths still hang across the empty cradle, embroidered with little dragons. A silver rattle sits unused on the window ledge, dust gathering around it like snow.

When he steps inside and sees the silence where there should be crying, he finally understands.

His knees buckle. Just a little. Just enough that you almost reach for him.

You do not.

Instead, you say, “You weren’t here.”

His head lifts. There’s blood in his mouth from where he bit down on grief. “I didn’t know—”

“You should have,” you whisper. Your voice is like broken glass in your own throat. “I told you. I told you she was coming. I begged you to stay.”

He steps forward, hands outstretched, as if to pull you close. But there’s nothing left of you to hold. You are cold marble and dried blood and ashes. You shake your head, stepping back into the shadows.

“I held her, Daemon,” you say. “I held her while she died. She was warm, and she smelled like you. And I watched her go cold, and you weren’t here.”

There is silence again. That cruel, gaping silence that swallows everything soft and good.

“I should have been,” he says. It is not a plea. Not an excuse. Only fact.

“Yes,” you say. “You should have.”

The pain doesn’t fade. It never will. It lives with you now. Sleeps beside you. It is the space where your child should be.

Daemon drops to his knees before you. Not like a prince. Not like a warrior. Like a man who has finally been broken beyond repair. His forehead touches your skirts, and he clutches the fabric as if it is the only thing keeping him alive.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. “Gods, forgive me. Forgive me.”

You look down at him, at the man who once set the world on fire for you. And for the first time, you feel nothing at all.

Not hate.

Not love.

Only the deep, devastating knowledge that nothing he says will bring her back.

And the even crueler truth.

You are not sure if you can ever let him touch you again without thinking of what you lost.

#MY GODS THE ANGST HURTS SO GOOD #this was tragic but written beautifully #I love when men get on their knees for women in any context #daemon targaryen angst #hotd daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #ficrec #fic rec

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