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sakkiichi · 9 months

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COVER ME IN SUNSHINE.

Ways in which your kid calls his dad. Will he get to hear a ‘papa’?

ft. Scaramouche/Wanderer, Albedo, Xiao, Childe, Kaeya, Neuvillette x gn! reader.

cw/genre: pure fluff. Reader is referred to as ‘mama’, you and the character have a child. They’re all girl dads.

a birthday present for my dearest @bunny-rambles 🩵 i’m wishing you the best day today and always, hun ! ilysm, thank you for always being by my side. I hope we can celebrate many many more birthdays together, mwah <3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ note: about this fic… i struggled quite a little with it, and i’m sorry it’s not my best piece… this was a totally new concept to write for me, but i still hope you can enjoy, bunbun, dear ♡

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

Wide indigo orbs meet his furrowed gaze.

Scaramouche is not amused.

Or at least that’s what he wants whoever sees him right now to believe. Namely, you.

Tiny hands cup the Wanderer’s cheeks, big eyes, so similar to his, staring up at him in wonder. The little girl in his arms squeezes his face, a pout forming on her father’s lips. Giggles erupt from her smiling lips, the corners of Scaramouche’s mouth unconsciously tilting upwards.

“You’re amused, huh?” Your husband asks, rocking the baby in his hold. She stares at him, her little arms flailing upward, giggling happily.

“Moochie!” She babbles, trying to stand on the wanderer’s knees, her hands reaching for his hat.

“Hey, hey, now!” Kunikuzushi pouts, securing his hat. “That is not a toy and I’m not Moochie…”

“Moochie!” His daughter repeats, poking his cheek.

He sighs.

“Not Moochie…” Scaramouche’s ears take on a rather rosy tone, especially when your giggles are not exactly inconspicuous, your attempt at keeping hidden just outside the living room, obviously half-assed.

“Pa-pa. Not Moochie.” He repeats, bopping his little one’s nose. “And here, play with this.” He offers, handing his baby a doll curiously identical to himself.

Your eyes soften from your spot when you observe the fond smile on your lover’s face. He might feign annoyance, but when it came to your baby, all the facade was scattered to the winds. Storm clouds and lightning seemed so far away when he was surrounded by the blue skies and birdsong that dawned with your daughter’s hand grabbing his finger.

“Pa..” The little one begins, lifting the doll, as if indicating that it indeed represents her father.

“Pa…” Your wanderer prompts, as he points to the cloth mini version of himself.

Then, the girl’s eyes focus somewhere beyond her dad, tiny hands wiggling and waving, the plush doll still in her grasp.

“Mama!” She exclaims, making to reach for you, trying to climb over the sofa’s backrest, where it not for your partner’s protective hold.

Finally stepping out from your hideout, you walk towards them.

Familiar warm arms wrap around the no longer broken puppet, as your precious baby rests between your two heartbeats. Yours, steady, undeniably human. His, bloomed anew, thanks to you; with a newfound tune, sweeter, gentler, thanks to his little one.

Scaramouche closes his eyes, lashes of now starlit midnights resting on his perfect cheekbones. His head leans on your shoulder, your lips feather-light on his dusky hair, as your hands gently lift his hat a bit.

Your girl grabs one of her father’s fingers once more, the handmade mini wanderer kept close to her chest.

Yes, storms were definitely over for days to come.

✧ ALBEDO

A tug on the leg of his pants and familiar unintelligible noises pull the alchemist out of his task.

Albedo’s features soften when he spots the cause of his distraction.

Putting the notebook he was currently scribbling on aside, he crouches down.

“And who do we have here?” The chalk prince asks, smoothing the golden locks on his baby’s small head.

“Mama?” She replies, her tiny hand pulling on her dad’s clothes.

The gesture is followed by one of Albedo’s gentle chuckles, eyes like northern stars on clear nights bright at the sight of his daughter.

“Mama’s not here now, little princess.” He explains, as he picks the baby up. “They will get home soon, though.” Your child stares at him as if unsatisfied with the answer, head slightly tilted to the side. “How about we have some fun in the meantime?”

Giggles that always reminded Albedo of sunshine days at dragonspine are the answer that follows.

Taking his little one’s two hands in his, the chief alchemist helps his daughter take a few trembling steps, the baby happily padding on the wooden floor.

“There we go, princess!” Your lover chuckles, sitting the girl securely on the beige couch. Teal eyes flecked in emerald follow your partner’s movements, as he rummages through your living room’s drawers.

A few seconds later, more incomprehensible joyful babbles follow, when he sits by your daughter’s side, his hands expertely setting the supplies he retrieved on the low table. She stares at him intently, her gaze drawn to the vibrant crayons cluttering the tabletop’s surface.

“What should we draw today, my princess?” Are Albedo’s words, as he hands his child a light blue pencil, its tip dulled so she can’t hurt herself.

“Snow!” She exclaims, her tiny feet kicking back and forth in excitement, eliciting chuckles from her dad.

“You want to paint snow, my little cecilia?” He asks, combing through her blonde strands. “Alright, how about we paint you, mama and papa building a snowman?”

“Yay!” Your baby reaches for the blank paper, wonder and excitement written all over her rounded features, her tongue sticking out the corner of her small mouth. She always loved to draw and paint, especially when it was with Albedo. And even if her pictures often ended up turning out as just criss-crossing lines or messy splotches, you and your husband always kept every single one of them, displayed as priceless masterpieces on the fridge’s door, the living room walls or your study.

After a few minutes of focused work, three figures start taking form over a background of messily drawn blue snowflakes.

“Look, dearie.” Albedo calls. “Who are these?”

His girl looks up at him, a huge smile on her face as she bites the pencil.

“Mama! Me! And Papa!” She answers proudly, pointing at each of the figures.

Albedo’s eyes widen, gilded sparks reflected in the cloudless skies of his irises at his daughter’s words.

Those last two syllables.

His own pencil falls out of his grasp, clattering to the carpeted floor. In this moment, nothing else exists, save for the jingling echo of his daughter’s angelic tone.

“Papa?” She asks, tugging on his sleeve.

Albedo picks the little girl up, rising her as she laughs, unaware.

“Can you say it again, little princess? ‘Papa’.”

“Papa! Papa!” Giggles leave her throat.

Softly, Albedo places a kiss on her kid’s forehead, hugging her as the both of them lay down on the sofa.

When you got home, silence greets you, broken only by even breaths. Smiling to yourself, you brush a kiss against your husband’s and your daughter’s hair, a new painting adorning the walls after you gently throw a blanket over the sleeping figures of your two treasures.

✧ XIAO

“Do you want to hold her, Xiao? She’s been looking at you for a while.” You chuckle, your gaze softened when it sets upon your yaksha.

Golden eyes, not unlike the child’s currently on your arms, shadow in fear and shame for a moment.

What if he hurts the baby? What if his karma taints her somehow? What if-

“Xiao.” Your hand finds his gloved one, centuries of bloodshed written in the concealed scars. “She’ll be okay.” You reassure, a gentle squeeze, as your fingers slot between his.

The adeptus glances in his daughter’s direction, her round amber eyes curiously observing him.

Your husband’s jaw sets, his lips drawn in a taut line. If someone were to look at him now, they may think he’s sulking, the furrow of his brow apparently an indication to steer clear.

You, however, know better.

“Here, I’m with you, love.” You softly utter, placing your daughter in her father’s arms.

The baby stares up at her dad in awe, her little hands fiddling with the necklace he always wears.

She’s so small… such a pure and precious being… will she be safe with him?

Just as these thoughts plague his mind, the girl curls up in his embrace, nuzzling against his toned torso.

“See? She adores you, Xiao…” You tell him, knuckles brushing against your baby’s soft full cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turns around, a smile drawing on her lips, as she buries herself further into Xiao, whose cheeks have gone as red as the carmine lining his eyes.

“H-hello, little qingxin…” Xiao greets her, awkwardly rubbing her back.

In response, his baby tilts her head slightly backwards, the molten suns in her stare illuminating her father’s rusted gold gaze.

“Papa!” She goes, a little clumsy, it sounding more like ‘dada’.

The vigilant yaksha’s eyes widen, his heart feeling like a million bright lanterns floating towards a starry sky.

“Xiao! She said ‘papa’! See? She loves you!” You excitedly chant, hugging your husband’s waist, as you pepper kisses all over his face. “You are her first word, dear, our baby adores her dad so much. I knew she would!” A smile tugs at your lips, lids fluttering closed as you rest your cheek on Xiao’s shoulder.

His hands hover around his daughter, his hold on her delicate, as if she was a newly bloomed flower whose petals could vanish if the wind blew too strongly.

“Papa…” The girl repeats, her chubby cheek squished against’s Xiao’s form. Her eyes are droopy, a little yawn escaping her as she settles more comfortably in her father’s embrace.

Your adeptus heaves out a sigh of relief, the warmth of a familiar fireplace swarming all around him, as if candid candle flames were running through his veins when the soft snores of his daughter reach his ears.

The conqueror of demons’ mask would be shed for tonight.

✧ CHILDE

Small hands are glued to the window’s glass panes, a pair of bright blue eyes staring awestruck at the image currently taking place in your garden.

Flashes of crystalline cyan flit across the air as Childe wields his double blades, merging them into a spear, his muscles taut at the effort.

The little girl’s tiny hands curl into fists, as she leans forward in anticipation, marine gaze following her father’s movements.

He reminds her of the illustrations she’s seen in the picture books Teucer has shown her before.

She must get closer.

Looking over her shoulder, your daughter makes sure you’re busy with something in the kitchen.

Her plan can be put into action now.

Crawling towards the door on all fours, she realizes she’s nowhere near tall enough to reach the handle.

Oh, but she takes after you, and will not be deterred by something like this.

Silently, the baby makes her way towards the dog you took in. He’s big and fluffy and very peaceful, often keeping company to the little girl. With a gentle pat to his side, she looks up at him with those big blue eyes and, despite his instinct to keep her safe, the puppy obliges to her demand.

Folding his paws, the animal lowers himself to the ground, allowing your daugher to climb. A vivid spark flashes through her ocean eyes, tiny hands securing on her companion’s fur.

And just as she was about to reach the door opening to the garden, a familiar voice that’s lulled her to sleep many a night stops her in her tracks.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, little lady.” You stand a couple feet away from her, hands on your hips, your concern masked with masterfully feigned anger.

Your baby stares up at you, that oceanic gaze puppy-like, much like her father did when you were mad at him.

“Mama…” She mumbles, her little hands signaling to where Childe is training outside, sounds you can’t understand leaving her pouty lips.

You sigh, kneeling to pick her up, rubbing your dog’s chin gently.

“So you want to see papa training, don’t you, little troublemaker?” You prompt, smiling as you tickle her belly. She giggles, wiggling her legs in your hold. “Alright, just this once, and because he’s almost finished with his routine.” You warn, softly pinching her cheek.

Once outside, you both stare at the harbinger, you, with heating cheeks; your daughter, in admiration and wonder.

Then:

“Papa!” She calls, energetically waving to her father, as you have to struggle so she doesn’t fall out of your grasp.

Suddenly, Ajax’s hydro blades vanish, a rare glow present in the eyes that are so like his daughter’s. A wide grin spreads across his sun-kissed features, arms opening as he runs towards you and his baby.

“Papa! Papa!” His daughter repeats, as your husband hugs the both of you.

No matter how cold Snezhnaya’s blizzards blew, Ajax would always have his personal patch of sunshine in you two.

✧ KAEYA

Calla lilies surround the scene, their russet-hued petals aglow in the blue shimmer of the statue of the seven standing amidst the lake.

Dusk approaches, the sky still dyed in shades of tangerine and cherry blossom, the sun, a glimmering halo right above the horizon.

Over frondous grass spotted in sun and shadow, a blanket lies, its baby blue pattern fading into the multiple colors of the snacks scattered above it: portions of cake you baked the afternoon prior; sandwitches carefully cut in triangle shapes; handpicked apples and sunsettias, cut and placed into plates by your lover.

But perhaps the most vivid color of them all was that of the couple sitting atop it.

A couple and their daughter.

“You really liked this pie, didn’t you, little lily?” Kaeya coos at his baby, her chubby cheeks littered with crumbs of the soft cake she’s been devouring all afternoon. Two pairs of ice blue eyes meet each other beneath the setting sun, the girl’s giggles eliciting a chuckle from her father’s lips as he carefully wipes her face. “Mama will be mad if you stain your dress, little princess.” The cavalry captain points out, in mock scolding.

His reprimand is met with a bashful smile and his kid cuddling into him, her tiny hands clutching his clothes.

“Kaeya, don’t tease her!” You swat at his arm playfully, soft laughter leaving the both of you as your husband smooths over your girl’s hair, placing a soft kiss on her head.

“Don’t pay any mind to papa, now.” You reassure her, tenderly brushing over her chubby hands. “He’s a little silly sometimes.”

The girl looks up at you, those iceberg toned eyes wide in wonder at the world that she still has to discover around her.

You ruffle her hair, as she turns around in Kaeya’s embrace, settling on top of his legs, staring up at him.

“Papa!” She announces, taking ahold of Kaeya’s long braid, playing with it. “Papa… prince!” She points out, as she grabs one of the dolls she brought: a boy wearing a crown.

With a knowing grin, you shift closer to your lover, leaning against his side.

“Yes, little sweetheart, you’re right, papa is a prince.” Kaeya’s hand locks with yours over his shoulder, fingers laced together, the warmth of his touch so paradoxical, given the freeze he commands.

“And that is why you’re our little princess.” The knight tells your baby, as he places a stray calla lily on her hair.

“Princess!” She happily babbles, rising her arms.

Instances like this… they truly stoked gentle flames around the captain’s heart, oftentimes concealed behind apparently crystalline walls of frost. As long as he had the two of you, at least during brief moments like this, there would be no need for practiced facades.

Across the distant horizon, even dusk seemed to delay, allowing a few more seconds of luminous skies for the family sitting below it, a flickering smile crossing the anemo archon’s face of stone.

✧ NEUVILLETTE

Slate skies expand above him, his opal eyes restless oceans in the tears they contain, painted lashes dripping in midnight droplets.

Rainbow roses seem to weep too, their petals downcast, the sunrise shades of their blossoms muted in the downpour.

Neuvillette stands alone, the garden of your shared home melancholy; the trees too bare, the grass ashen, the flowers wilting.

Save for the pitter-patter of rusted silver droplets, silence reigns the scene.

The hydro dragon’s mood had a tendency to be mirrored in the heavens over Fontaine, after all.

Sighing, the Chief Justice takes a sit by a bush of lumidouce bells. Fitting, for someone whose shoulders slump not unlike the petals of the periwinkle hued blooms.

“Neuvi, love.” A familiar voice calls him, gently. “What are you doing out there in this weather, dear?”

Long argent locks of hair shift, like seafoam by moonlight, when he turns around, water, from the rain, or his tears, or both, running down his cheeks.

“Someone has come to see you, my love.” You softly utter, beckoning your husband towards the porch, the impending cacophony of his racing mind and falling downpour partially silencing.

Neuvillette’s features warm up a bit the moment he realizes who you’re talking about.

A little girl placidly rests between your arms, eyes of crystalline dusk looking up at her father. Unlike his, hers are rounded, lacking the dark circles frequently etched under your lover’s.

“Look who’s here, little rainbow.” You coo at your daughter, who tries chasing after your wiggling fingers, right as you playfully poke her belly. “Papa is here, do you perhaps want to play with him?”

The baby looks at you, one of her tiny fists on her mouth, as her eyes crinkle up in crescents. Then, she turns towards her dad, arms reaching out.

“Papa! Papa!” She laughs, inclining her flexible small torso towards him.

Neuvillette’s gaze widens, placing his hands around his little girl, protectively cradling her in his embrace.

“Papa is here, sunshine.” Your lover assures her, as he leans down to kiss her nose.

In the distance, a familiar arch shoots across the heavens, the violet of goodbyes and separations shifting into rosy affection.

Golden replaces dull steel, flecks of it dotting the grass, remnants of rain clinging like emeralds to the verdant stems.

The sun is out. The hydro dragon cries no more.

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cordeliawhohung · 5 months

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consider this short drabble a thank you gift for 1.5k followers!

mafia!141 masterlist

mafia!Simon x shy!fem!Reader: smut, oral (m receiving), brief p in v

"Can I suck your dick?"

Simon had just lined himself up at your entrance when those words left your mouth and he became as still as a statue when they registered in his mind. Positioned underneath him on the bed, you looked up at him with slightly wide eyes as if your request shocked even yourself. It was something you had thought about for quite some time; how Simon always seemed to give and yet rarely ask for anything in return, and you wanted to change that.

You just didn't think you'd blurt your thoughts out so suddenly like that.

Surprised, Simon leaned back to look at you while his hand still gripped his hardened cock. Shifting under his gaze, you propped yourself up on your elbows as you waited for his answer. You wished you hadn't said it so suddenly like you did, but the thought most likely would have never passed your lips if you had attempted to do it any other way.

"That what you want?" he asked.

Though he questioned you to ensure that was something you wanted of your own accord, you could see the dark glint of want in his eyes. Saw the way his tongue lightly wet his lips and how his hand squeezed the tip of his cock like he already imagined your mouth around him. Eagerly, you nodded as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, mind already racing about how you were supposed to do it properly.

"Yes... please."

After placing a short and heavy kiss on your lips, Simon slipped to the side, reversing your positions. He propped himself up on the plush pillows near the headboard while you sat between his legs where his thick and powerful thighs kept your corralled like an animal. With one hand still holding himself, Simon reached for your face with the other as he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

"Take your time, yeah?" he prompted. His dark eyes looked at you adoringly while his hips impatiently bucked under his own stimulation. "You can stop whenever you want."

Once again you nodded as you breathed out a simple confirmation before your hand replaced his. While you settled between his legs, you slowly stroked at him as you thumbed over the smooth jewelry of his piercings. Eventually your lips brushed against the warm tip of his cock, wetting your mouth with his precum.

As your mouth gently dropped open, you tried not to think too hard about everything. Simon always told you that type of stuff was supposed to come easy and natural, to not force it and just let your desires take control. So you did just that as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, mouth opening impossibly wide in order to accommodate the sheer girth of him.

He tasted salty, almost refreshingly so, and you couldn't help but swirl your tongue around his glands in an attempt to soak up more of that flavor. Simon's thighs tensed on either side of you, and his breathy sigh didn't go unnoticed by you. You wanted more, to draw out more of those pitchy moans, to make him feel just as good as he always made you, so you pressed forward to take more of him into your mouth. He brushed against your soft palate similar to how he always pressed against your cervix, and the unfamiliar feeling made you gag.

"Easy sweetheart," he warned as he gently pushed you back. "Go slower... yes, fuck just like that..."

Eventually you found your rhythm. Whatever you couldn't take in your mouth you used your hands to make up for as you bobbed your head along his length. Simon's breathing became strained like he had to hold himself back from fucking up into your mouth like a madman, but you noticed that every time your swirled your tongue around the piercings on his glands, it forced his hips to buck ever so slightly.

A tingling sensation settled over your lips the longer you worked at him and your jaw began to ache from the awkward position but you pushed forward. You felt his hand rest gently on the back of your head, carefully guiding you along him as he aided you in setting a pace that felt good but wasn't too much for you. His quieted moans eventually transformed into unrestrained grunts as you brought him closer to the edge. The warmth of your mouth and soft lips around him was enough to drive him to insanity, and just as his stomach tensed, just as he was about to spill into your mouth, he gently pulled you off of him.

Panting, you sat back on your haunches as you gave Simon a glazed yet confused look. A long stream of spit dribbled down your chin and you quickly wiped it away on the back of your hand as you tried to catch your breath in order to ask him what was wrong. His cock glistened with your saliva and it seemed to twitch in frustration at the sudden absence of pleasure.

"C'mere," he said, his voice dark and husky. His hands were already on your waist where he excitedly pulled you closer to him, forcing you to straddle his hips.

"But I wasn't done," you attempted to retort.

Simon chuckled at you as he once more lined his cock up against your heat, drawing a sharp gasp out of you. In an attempt to keep yourself steady, your hands came up to rest on his shoulders as he ever so slowly lowered you onto him, sliding into you with ease due to how well you slicked him up.

"You can suck me off properly another time, sweetheart," he said with a tight jaw. He hissed as your cunt began to swallow him, tight muscles pulling him into you like he never belonged anywhere else. "Did you really think you could make me feel that good and get nothin' in return?"

Your head fell forward and into his shoulder with a soft gasp as he bottomed out, filling you with ease and to the brim. As he began to gently move you up and down, his hips bucked up to meet you halfway where he kissed your cervix with each thrust.

"Fuck... no, no. I reward my girl for bein' good, yeah?"

#mafia!simon #mafia!ghost #mafia!141 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley x reader smut #simon riley smut #ghost x reader smut

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confessedlyfannish · 8 months

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DP x DC Prompt #6

Phantom is sitting at the Batcomputer, kicking his legs back and forth. With the seat last set for Batman's height, his feet barely skim the ground. He's propped his head up with one hand, examining something he is holding between his thumb and forefinger in the other.

He is very casual for someone who has never been told the location of the Batcave.

"Phantom," Batman grunts. Phantom doesn't glance his way, likely having heard the Batmobile pulling in.

"Hi Bruce," he says. "I had a nightmare last night."

It's important to note that The Justice League does not know Phantom's true age, although there are several theories:

Theory One: he is a ghost dating back to several thousand BCE. The proof of this is sparse but present, through written record of beings with white hair and green eyes and uncanny likenesses found in artifacts proven to be authentic. Could these truly be Phantom? Yes. However, there is

Theory Two: he is a teenager, as his visual presence suggests. This could be true even if his existence is thousands of years old, as his mentality might not have advanced beyond that of a child aged fourteen to sixteen when they died. This is supported by his general behavior and advanced knowledge of memes. The few times he and Red Robin have interacted, Bruce did not understand a word of it without extensive googling. But worse, of course, there is

Theory Three: Phantom is the age of his first recorded appearance in modern times, only a few years ago. Phantom's recorded appearances in the past were sparse compared to his consistent existence in this century, which could hint at a timestream accident similar to Bruce's own, if they are real. And ultimately, this would not be the first time a two year old presented as a teenager in form.

Two out of three options propose Phantom is a child, and so Batman's tone is gentle when he says,

"Did you?"

"Yeah," Phantom says, words almost a sigh. Whatever is in his hand catches in the lamp light, shining green.

It's kryptonite. Phantom is holding a shard of kryptonite.

"Sorry." Phantom twirls his chair around to face Bruce. He holds the shard out in his palm. "I called you Bruce, didn't I? I know you hadn't told me yet."

"That's okay," Bruce says. He takes the shard calmly, his suit's layered biometrics disguising the fact his heart is racing. He recognizes this chunk from his stores, kept in the secure, deepest, impenetrable section of the cave coded to his DNA alone.

He's been aware Phantom's powers include invisibility and intangibility, but the ghost has been benevolent, honorable, and heroic since introduced and he had allowed his guard to slip. All it would've taken is being tailed one time, and now he must rely on that benevolence.

"And I'm sorry about that," Phantom says, nodding at the belt Batman has tucked the kryptonite inside. It will do nothing to stop Phantom should he decide to pluck it away again, but kept out of sight in a lead-lined pouch still feels safer than out in the open.

"I needed to make a point." Phantom says. The words are threatening but his tone is not.

"Oh?" Bruce asks, wary nonetheless.

"I'm really strong," Phantom says. "I can walk through walls. I can disappear. I can fly. I can blast and freeze stuff. I don't need to breathe. Traditional weapons don't really work on me."

"I can duplicate," a voice says from behind Bruce. He whirls around, batarang in hand, to see another Phantom rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "That duplicate will have all the same powers," the doppelganger says, apologetically. He floats back over to the Phantom sitting on the chair and the two merge.

"I have bad powers too, ones I don't like to use. I can scream at things until they fall apart, even buildings. I can...I can possess people, and make them do things," he admits, unable to look Batman in the eye. "It's not that all ghosts are like this, pretty much all of them aren't, it's just that I'm one of the stronger ones, and I'm only going to get stronger, and the stronger I get, the more powers I might get, and the less weapons even made especially to fight ghosts will work on me."

None of this is phrased as a threat, but rather a confession.

"Why are you telling me this?" Batman asks.

"I had a nightmare," Phantom repeats weakly. He reaches under the computer table and pulls out a purple JanSport backpack, cotton dirty and frayed with use. He unzips the front pocket and pulls out a small plastic baggy. He offers the baggy to Batman, his hand shaking.

Batman takes the baggy, examining the contents. Inside are six tiny little dots. They look like poppy seeds, but held up to the light are a deep purple in color.

"Phantom, what are these?"

"Hemo Prunus," Danny says, eyes stuck on the baggy. He's paler than usual. "Colloquially: blood blossoms. At the time they were grown it was believed they required drops of blood to grow, but a friend of mine who likes plants thinks it's more likely they actually just like a higher quantity of iron in their soil. You know, truths found in witch's tales and stuff like that. I don't know much about their care beyond that but I do know they were grown previously in Salem in the late 1600s, early 1700s during their summer seasons with some amount of success so perhaps you can mimic that environment and go from there. From what I've gathered they're incredibly difficult to grow, but I figure if anyone can do it it's you."

"I'm not exactly the gardening type," Batman says dryly.

Phantom laughs faintly. He looks like he's about to pass out, which should be impossible and is not the correct reaction to gifting someone a rare piece of flora.

"Phantom," Batman says again, slowly. "What are these?"

"They're my kryptonite."

Bruce closes his fist over the bag immediately, taking several steps back to put distance between himself and Phantom. "Are you alright?" he asks sharply.

"I'm fine," Phantom says, waving a hand. "As seeds they just sting a little, like nettles."

That's not the reaction of someone being lightly stung, Bruce thinks. Phantom looks like he needs the chair he's sitting in just to stay upright.

Then the rest of his words click together.

"You're giving me these," Bruce says.

"Yes," Phantom says. "For safekeeping."

"To grow."

Phantom's smile fades. "For safekeeping," he says, looking at Bruce's belt. Where he has stored the kryptonite.

The enormity of what Phantom is entrusting him with hits Bruce like a ton of bricks, and he finally realizes that Phantom is not sick but terrified. He is quietly, deeply, terrified. Bruce also realizes that a reaction like that is not born out of fear of the unknown but is the reaction of someone who has felt the sting of the bee and felt their throat close up. At some point Phantom has felt the blood blossom flower, and the sheer memory of it is enough to make the ghost go almost catatonic with terror.

And he has still handed over the one weapon that can hurt him to the Batman, and told him all he knows on how to make more.

I had a nightmare.

"Is this all of it?" Bruce asks, the question coming out brusquer than intended. Phantom blinks.

"Yes, I'm sorry, that's all I could--yes that's all," he stammers.

Bruce shakes his head. "I mean, does anyone else have access to it? Is anyone else growing this that we should be aware of?"

Phantom can't mask a sudden shudder, his reactions always woefully transparent (pun not intended). "No, that's the last of it. No. No. I don't think," his eyes grow wider, "I don't think so," he whispers, to himself, an attempt at comfort.

Way to go, Bruce, a familiar voice whispers, you just scared the kid harder. Bruce drops the packet on a table beside him and strides forward to put a firm hand on Phantom's shoulder.

"I'll make sure of it," he says. He'll pull Kal in and together they'll make sure, the same way they raided every GiW base across the United States four months prior. Phantom looks up at him the same way he did then, with complete and utter trust.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "But if you do...if you do find any more, promise me you won't destroy it. Promise me you'll keep it, the same way you keep the kryptonite. Please, Bruce."

He's not just asking him to keep it. Another weight finds its place, settling on the Bat's shoulders like the cape he wears. Another contingency for a hero he fears will one day be a dear friend.

"I promise, Phantom."

"Danny," Phantom says, "My name is Danny. A name for a name, right?"

"Danny," Bruce says, heart growing ever heavier. "I promise."

#I watched Epilogue from JLU right before this #can you tell #I'm in my feelings so hard rn #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #my writing #batman #danny phantom

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bby-deerling · 2 months

Note

Love your Hcs ❤️ they're so creative 🥰😋🎉

would you do one for me "caught in the act" - with Zoro, Kid and Law making love to you when suddenly someone of their crew enters (they don't know about your relationship) 🙏pleeasssee

getting caught with you (nsfw)

masterlist || commissions

cw: secret relationships (being exposed), zoro's part turns into a circus, zoro is an idiot (<3), lowkey crack taken seriously, kid is a menace, brat taming (w/kid), rough sex (w/kid), exhibitionism kinda (w/kid)

tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @zorolux

zoro

so caught up in the delirium of each other's touch, neither you nor zoro notice sanji entering the supply closet until he lets out a gasp and promptly faints from blood loss upon catching a glimpse of your naked form. both of you scrambling as the loud thud of the cook collapsing to the floor prompts the signature clack of nami's heels to approach the pantry, zoro hastily throws a nearby tarp over both of your bodies right as the navigator swings open the door.

"ew, gross!" she squeals, her scream echoing loudly and luring in the rest of your friends who were milling around nearby on the deck. while chopper barely even registers what's going on with you and zoro, more focused on attending to sanji's well-being, usopp, brook, and luffy are all laughing hysterically, though luffy is more so laughing along because everyone else is. that much is clear when he loudly asks why you both are naked, wondering if you'd both ripped your clothes or something similar.

"they were having sex, luffy!" usopp hisses, and luffy's eyes widen before he grins. "oh! you two must really like each other then, huh?" he exclaims with a smile as chopper helps sanji to his feet. zoro's patience was already wearing thin, but when the cook shoots a biting remark about the swordsman not deserving you his way, he's up in an instant and ready to clash with him, completely forgetting that he was naked. when the rest of your crewmates shriek in shock, he mindlessly and instinctively grabs the tarp that was covering both of you, accidentally exposing you.

"zoro, what the hell!" you squeak out, as robin creates a barrier of hands around your body to shield your privacy, using some of them to return some of your clothes to you so that you can get dressed.

"sorry..." he mumbles as he grabs his sweatpants and pulls them up quickly, before snapping at the rest of the crew to quit staring.

"blech. are you two together? because i made a bet that..." nami starts, and both of you cut her off with a simultaneous yes; usopp sighs as he hands the navigator a handful of cash, and the crew begins to disperse, including you and zoro, who are now far too embarrassed to finish what you had started.

kid

"you gonna keep staring, killer? you can stay and watch if ya' want." kid taunts when killer opens the door to his bedroom and finds you splayed out underneath him; though your relationship was a secret from the rest of the crew, it's a sight killer was accustomed to walking in on, and he simply sighs and rolls his eyes from underneath his mask. kid doesn't stop the movements of his hips for a moment, causing you to smack him on the forehead and tell him to cut it out until killer leaves the room.

"dinner is served. was wondering if you two planned on coming to eat any time soon." killer says, almost bored and completely unfazed.

"kinda busy here." kid replies, tilting his head towards you as you cover up your breasts with your arms, annoyed.

"i'll save a couple plates then." killer says, letting out a small, irritated sigh as he leaves the room, thankful that his mask hides the secret blush on his face.

"you're a real asshole, you know that? you can't even bother to cover me up?" you hiss at him once the door shuts, but your angry ramblings are broken up by gasps as he slams his thick cock deep inside of you.

"y'know i just love fucking the attitude out of you, pipsqueak. i know you love it too." he replies with a smirk; you let out a huff as you bite back a moan, knowing full well that he's right.

law

as the soft hum of music and a mixture of moans fills law's office, the two of you are too wrapped up with entwining tongues with each other and the way he lazily thrusts into your sloppy pussy to notice the creak of the door as it opens.

"oops, sorry captain!" shachi exclaims, doubling over laughing as both of you nearly jump out of your skin from the sound of his voice. for a split second, law considers simply teleporting both of you to his bedroom to continue unraveling you, but he knows that refusing to talk about this with shachi would cause misinformation to spread around the submarine like wildfire; so, he thanks every star hanging above his head that the two of you were already underneath a throw blanket and puts all of his weight on top of you to shield your body further.

"what do i have to do to get you to keep this a secret?" law asks with a deep sigh, neck straining as he looks up at his snickering friend.

shachi taps his finger on his chin a few times as he hums, trying to make sure he comes up with the most advantageous answer possible for himself. "no night shift or cleaning the floors for a month." he says with a smirk; law relents, giving him a nod before telling him to get out of here, which shachi responds to with an enthusiastic "yes, captain!"

though before he can slip out of the office, the door swings open once more; this time it's bepo, who lets out a loud gasp, his eyes widening until he suddenly turns on his feet and starts screaming down the hallway to anyone who would listen that the two of you were finally together.

"dammit bepo, you ruined my deal!" shachi yells as he follows his polar bear friend, causing law to sigh and teleport a heavy chair against the door, preventing anyone else from walking in and interrupting his attempts to shower you with affection from the inside out.

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #law x reader #eustass kid x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #trafalgar law x reader #eutass kidd x reader #zoro x you #law x you #eustass kid x you #one piece headcanons #one piece drabble #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #zoro smut #law smut #eustass kid smut

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thekeystothebasement · 2 years

Note

REQUEST!! Head empty just thinking about throwing the 141 guys on their back to ride the living soul out of them till they're babbling non sense+ including König and graves these boys are to die for🤤🤎🤎🤎

A/N: I'm slowly making my way through the requests, This one took me a bit longer than I expected. It was quite challenging writing similar prompts for different characters without sounding repetitive.I went hard on Captain Price and Ghost's parts but I sort of felt like the quality went down after that :(

Let me know what ya'll think!

Check out my post: WIPS and Requests if you're interested in what I have planned or curious about the rules I set for requests.

Captain Price:

You've been needy all day and Price hasn't been giving you the attention you've been craving.

He was constantly pacing around the base, in meetings, and never having an opportunity to be with you until you found one.

After wandering around the base like a lost puppy looking for its owner, you found Price at his office, sitting in his big leather chair.

You could hear him sigh out of frustration, rubbing his temple, you could see the exhaustion on his face.

Normally you would leave him alone or even convince him to rest but you were so fucking needy.

The ache between your legs only seems to grow by the second.

Seeing him lean back into his leather chair, legs spread and letting out a sigh of frustration you finally decided to pounce.

"Daddy" you whimpered as you bounced on his dick. You were riding him eagerly, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. Normally Price would be so rough with you, pounding you against his desk and calling you a whore, his little slut. But Price couldn't even form a coherent sentence. Any words coming from his mouth were slurred as he looked at you with hooded eyelids.

"I'm a good girl, right?" you asked as you kept your relentless pace. "I'm taking care of daddy." you giggled as you felt him throb inside of you. You rocked your hips against him as you leaned closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"C'mon daddy, let it out." you whimpered. You gently nipped at his ear earning a throaty moan from him. "Let your baby take care of you. Be a good boy for me."

You let out a gasp at his weak attempt to thrust up into you, his nails leaving marks on your hips.

"Princess..." he whimpered

"Yes, sir?" you were smiling down at him, feeling him tense under you before shuddering as his cum shoots deep into you. His body goes limp on the leather chair as you continue to ride him, not satisfied with the amount of cum he gave you.

"Giving up already?" you pouted. You could feel his semen run down your burning thighs, leaving you even hornier.

"C'mon old man, your princess wants more."

Ghost:

Ghost never liked to relinquish control.

Whenever you tried to take the reigns you were always put in your place

On your back with your legs over his shoulder as he pounded into you, desperately trying to breed you.

Despite how good he made you feel, you always had the fantasy to be on top.

You wanted Ghost to be the one left quivering and begging.

You wanted to be the one in control. You wanted to be the one to be able to hold's Ghost pleasure over his head.

You wanted Ghost to beg you to let him cum, which is exactly what your ears are hearing.

"Fucking hell, don't do this to me, baby..." Simon pleaded. The rope tied around his wrist wouldn't budge no matter how hard Simon's hands tried to reach out to your body. He couldn't remember how many times you kept bringing him to the edge of pleasure, riding his cock and squeezing your warm wet cunt around him, to only pull away when you feel the familiar throb of his cock ready to burst his semen inside you.

"C'mon lieutenant..." you whispered into his ear as your fingernail traveled from his neck down to his chest. "I know you can beg better than that. How much do you want to cum inside this wet pussy." You teased.

You can see how red his tip was, practically ready to blow his load inside you with the slightest touch. His breathing was labored, his chest rapidly rising and falling. The rope tied around his ankles kept him from bucking his hips into you, as you hovered over him. Your pussy is just a few mere centimeters from his cock.

"c'mon princess..." he choked out, completely frustrated in the predicament he woke up to. "Please ride me..."

You couldn't help the wide grin that appeared on your face as you looked down at Simon. As soon as those words left his mouth you bounced down onto his cock earning a whimper from the man below you.

"As you wish lieutenant."

Soap:

You and Soap had made a bet after a heated argument in front of the 141 task force.

Somehow the topic landed on Sex

Soap had begun to brag that he could last hours to the point he'd outlast his partner which earned a snort from you.

All eyes landed on you at your reaction, Soap didn't take it lightly and thus started your mini argument

The argument ended when you and Soap agreed to have sex with each and see who would last the longest.

The group was astounded at the interaction and decided to stay at the bar longer than they planned as they watched you and Soap leave.

They did not want to be around you both as the bet took place.

"Johnny..." you panted as you looked down at the male before you. His eyes were squeezed shut as he roughly panted below you. "Admit it. You can't outlast me. My pussy is about to put you to sleep."

Soap could only whimper as you continued to bounce on his cock, vulgar wet sounds emitted by your actions. A ring of white can be seen in the base of his cock, the ring getting thicker and thicker as you continued to ride him. His hips would lazily try to meet yours, missing the rhythm you had set.

Your giggles echoed in his room as you felt his body stiffen, knowing his semen was about to be freed from their chamber. You could hear him babble nonsense as your cunt squeezed around his cock, squeezing the last bit of cum he had. Hissing as he nutted in you.

"you're a fucking minx..." he panted out. His hand tapped the inside of your cum covered thighs.

"Tapping out, Johnny?"

Gaz:

You and Gaz were the youngest members of the task force.

Because of this, you two got along well.

A little too well for everybody's comfort

It was no secret you two were fooling around with each other

Every member has their own experience catching you two in the act, mortifying all who were involved

But that never stopped you and Gaz from doing it again

The bathroom, kitchen, and even the sparring room were not safe from your lewd acts

Hell, you could imagine Price's shouting already

You were riding Gaz on Price's favorite couch, the worn-out fabric couch by the coffee table

"You got issues Gaz,"

Gaz was leaning back on the couch, 'coincidentally' the very spot Price sits on every day. He watched as you did all the work. Watching as your breasts jiggled with every bounce on his dick. He leaned further into the couch as you continued to belittle him.

"You like it when we get caught," you teased. "Pervert."

Gaz felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head, you were breathtaking, you looked so beautiful riding him. Your hands settled on his shoulders as you raised your hips and fell down on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass.

"Hurry up and cum Gaz," you gasped out. His fingers tightened around your hips as he edged closer and closer to the height of his pleasure. "Don't want the Captain to walk in and see me riding his favorite sergeant?"

"...fuck..."Gaz moaned. His eyes squeezed shut as he imagined your words. "...baby"

"Sick-fuck..." you teased. You quicked your pace, moving your hips in a circular manner. "You want the Captain to see me milk your cum from your balls?"

"shit..oh god..." Gaz cried out. You felt his body stiffen as he chanted 'yes baby' He could feel your walls squeezing around him, desperately trying to milk him.

As you feel his cum dribble down your thigh, your next set of words had him running through a list of emotions, his limp dick twitching inside of you despite his consciousness telling him how wrong it was to be getting hard in the situation he found himself in.

"Hi, Captain. Enjoying the show?"

Konig:

Konig's eyes followed you everywhere and you noticed for quite a bit of time.

You never really held a conversation with the tall male before.

He was too anxious to talk to you but whenever you approached him and try to converse with him, he could only reply with one-word responses.

Despite the lack of conversations, you enjoyed his presence.

You would be writing in your journal across from him and he would sketch on his sketchpad.

You've seen his sketches before, he was quite skilled and you rained compliments on him.

He would awkwardly laugh at your compliments, his mask hiding the big smile and blush on his cheeks.

Konig's body would soon stiffen under your next question, his hand harshly gripping at his sketchpad, and his pencil snapped in the other.

"Have you ever done nude art?"

You already knew the outcome when you suggested he draw you nude.

The devious smile on your face as you led him to your room and rid yourself of your clothes.

You admired Konig's self-control when he actually did try to sketch you nude but you had other plans.

"Mesmerize every square inch of my body." you panted. Konig was sprawled on the floor as you used his body for your complete and utter pleasure. His sniper hood was discarded in the room as his forearm covered his eyes, tears streaming down his face from the pleasure of your tight walls squeezing his overstimulated cock.

Whimpers and breathy moans escaped his throat and released into the room. Wet sounds resonated in the room as you bounced on his cock and scratched and clung to his chest.

"I'll remember..." Konig breathed out. "I'll remember...Scheiß...your curves..and...tight pussy"

You laughed at his weak attempt to reply to you, his sentence broken each time your ass landed on his balls earning whimpers and curses from the male. You could feel Konig's dick throb inside of you and his moans becoming higher and more frequent.

"Cum inside of me..."You begged. "and then you'll be able to draw me full of your semen."

Graves:

As soon as you got a glimpse of his eyes, you knew you were going to fuck him into submission

The way his eyes would shined when he stepped into the dinner and noticed a cute young waitress looking at him with a soft smile

He'd sit in a booth and pray you'll be his waitress for the night

He'd subtly flirt with you but you knew what you wanted and aggressively flirted right back at him

His eyes would follow your figure as you'd walk away, his eyes focusing on your ass

When you returned with his food you sat in the chair in front of him and kept him company as he ate his meal

Eventually, your boss yelled at you to get back to work, leaving Graves smirking at the small pout on your face.

You would lean down to his ear, his eyes gazing at your cleavage, your hand squeezing his shoulder as you whispered into his ear, "I get off at 10. If you'll wait for me, I'll make it worth your while."

You stood back up, dusting your skirt and sending him a wink before getting back to work

Despite the car having tinted windows, the rocking of the car and the smudged handprints on the windows gave away what was happening inside.

Phillip was sprawled on the car seat that was set all the way down, you were sat on his clothed dick, rocking your wet folds against the wet fabric of his briefs. His briefs stained with his cum and your arousal.

“C’mon baby….fuck,” Graves whined. “Let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours.”

You gave him false hope as you lifted your hips up and pulled down his briefs. You continued to rock your hips, your wet folds spreading your arousal on his red tip. You felt him shudder under your teasing, his eyes squeezed shut as his hands tried to grip the leather seats.

“Please stop teasing me, baby.” He begged.

You grinned at him, lining yourself up with his dick before you slowly eased him inside of you. Your eyes closed shut momentarily before the were snapped open, feeling Grave shoot his cum inside of you.

Your laughter filled the car as you began to bounce on his dick, whimpers and moans escaping from Graves.

“Was my pussy that good,” you questioned. “Fucking nutted just by being inside of me….Pathetic”

Graves couldn’t help but enjoy the way you degraded him, feeling your warm walls hug his cock, and the way yours eyes looked down at him. Your eyes looking at him as if he was a toy for your pleasure. Disregarding how sensitive he was from all your teasing, not caring how many times you made him cum inside of his briefs, his cum and your arousal mixed with each other, wet sounds emitted each time you lowered your hips all the way till his balls were tightly pressed against your ass.

“Shit….gonna fuck myself on your cock till the sunrise…”you said as you felt him throb inside of you once again.

“ if you can even last that long…”

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sugusatosluut · 5 months

Text

Look, don’t touch

Choso Kamo x Fem!reader

MDNI✨

Includes: Smut, grumpy choso, rough sex, clingy and jealous choso ;)

Also hi! :) hope everyone is starting the new year off fantastic! I’m here and ready to be mutuals with other creators on here. A comment on who to write about + a prompt would be nice :) my ask is open as well! Much love,

Fran <3

Your time spent being Kenjaku’s favorite pupil was exhausting. You sometimes spent time with the other pawns that Kenjaku lured with the promise of something different that each of them had valued, even yourself. Your favorite though, was Choso Kamo. Even though he was definitely a loner, he would sometimes share things with you, like food or techniques. He’d back you up on missions, volunteer to ‘protect you’ during reconnaissance and both of those ended up with him pushing your face into the sheets of a hotel room that you had frequented when you didn’t feel like traveling back to the hideout. This one mission in particular, Kenjaku opted to tag along as well.

“My sweetest pupil, one of my most prized possessions. You’ve nearly mastered this technique, is this the result of choso helping you during your spare time?” He asked.

“Yes Master Kenjaku.” You bowed your head.

Choso looked over as Kenjaku picked your head up with two fingers and got awfully close to your face. His lips were mere centimeters from your own, and he used the body of Suguru Geto to give you a warm smile. He liked the feeling of Choso’s eyes watching every twinge of movement between you and other individuals, it’s almost like he wanted to see how far he could push choso until he made him snap and show his true colors.. he liked that they were similar, but kenjaku’s fantasy was set aside to tend to his other pupils. Before he removed his fingers from your chin, Kenjaku looked you up and down, before smirking and leaving.

After he left, choso let out a deep sigh he had been holding. God it really got to him that Kenjaku really knew how to get under his skin, he knew somewhat about Choso’s ‘crush’ on you, but not what you two did on or after missions. Choso quietly made his way over to you after Kenjaku left.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.” He pouted from across the room.

“I can’t help that. I have to please Kenjaku.. but it doesn’t top wanting to please you, choso.” You smirked picking your head up to look at choso, who was clearly hot and bothered by both your words and your interaction with Kenjaku.

He huffed. It was something so simple and he already knew you weren’t into your ‘master’ but he wanted to hear it straight from your mouth.

Choso got up and quit his pouting. His face was serious and his demeanor was filled with tension.

“Get up.”

“Hm? Cho-“

“Get up.”

Choso grabbed your hand and pulled you into kenjaku’s resting place.. or office, whatever he called it, roughly pinning you between him and the door. His breath hot on your neck. All those taunting moments finally got to him, so he was going to take it further. He planted sloppy, wet kisses all over your neck and lips, sucking on your lips and shoving his hands up your top. You had no time to react, pure ecstasy shot through your body. Choso could do whatever he wanted to you and that was just the fact of the matter.

Suddenly he wrapped your hair into a ponytail around his palm, your whole body moving wherever he pulled you to go. He stopped you right in front of Kenjaku’s desk, aggressively pulling your skirt up. He rubbed circles on your puffy clit, his fingers feeling how wet you were just from kissing you.

“Choso-“ you panted.

“No- not until you tell me I’m your only master.” He grunted as he pulled your underwear to the side. He slid his cock up and down your folds, his tip throbbing at just the feeling of making contact with your precious cunt. He was grunting with anticipation, the reality of how rough he was being set in, but he couldn’t stop now. Is this what Kenjaku wanted? No- is this what you wanted? You wanted him to be rough with you and mark his territory, to fuck you in your master’s office, to see how only choso could make you weep, squirt and moan, how he could be the only man to destroy you and please you all at once. He wanted you to know that there was nobody else your cunt would willingly accept in all it’s tightness.

“Please, Cho- put it in, god! I- need you so bad.” You moaned gripping the desk. Choso had your ponytail in one hand and grabbed onto your waist with the other. He placed his body behind yours, embracing you, squeezing your hips and massaging them as he whispered in your ear.

“Tell me who your master is and I might just let you cum, pretty.” Choso’s words made your body shiver. He gave no warning before plunging his cock into your hole.

“G-gah!” You let out.

Choso was relentless. His behavior was far off than what you’ve seen prior to his odd jealousy. Choso never got jealous of anything as far as you knew.. but you were also oblivious of a lot of things. Your moans filled the air as choso waited for you to say what he needed to hear.

“Say it-mmm- say it or you’re not going to cum Princess.” I grunted as lewd sounds filled the air in Kenjaku’s space. You couldn’t take it anymore as your walls clenched around him, your throat letting out groans and moans before being able to speak through choso’s rough thrusts into you from behind.

“Y-you’re my one and only master choso, only you can have me!” You whined as you clenched harder around him. The enthusiasm and build up in your stomach was nearly edging you until choso said it..

“You can cum Princess, I’m right here- god you’re so tight I’m gonna - fuck! tch…” he panted before both of you came simultaneously. Choso kissed a line up your spine and pulled himself out slowly. He watched for a second as your hole dripped the mixture of the two of you out slowly. He turned you back around to himself and caressed your face. He wasn’t ever this affectionate. You figured maybe choso only wanted to hookup, but this only proved to you that Choso Kamo was a jealous man.

“Cho, were you jealous?” You smirked at him.

He sighed.

“A- a little yeah.. I think I would like to take you on a proper date to ask you out. When you have time though. Don’t want to piss off that old bastard.” Choso rolled his eyes.

“I’d love that choso.” You smiled.

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 6 days

Text

DON'T TOUCH WHAT IS MINE. ( HOTD x Reader )

author note: I wanted to do HOTD x Greek Myths cause it's fun. If I get enough like or requests I'l do a HOTD x Greek Myths book on wattpad. pairing: Jealous! Aemond Targaryen x Noble Wife! Reader prompt: Aemond contemplates murder. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were supposed to marry Aegon, a way to secure allies in the North for when Aegon took the Iron Throne. But, when his Mother planned on marrying him to Helaena. Aemond swiftly made his move, knowing that the loss of an ally would upset his Mother. It was supposed to be only for duty. You were supposed to be his duty to his Mother and family. But, of course the Gods were cruel and he fell for you. Hard and fast. He practically fell flat on his face for you, like someone had punched him in the groin with a club named ‘love’.

You were just so perfect. You were a proper Lady in the Court, weaving your way through politics with a cunning grace. You smiled and happily listened to Helaena as she rambled on about whatever popped in her mind, never judging her. You played with Helaena and Aegon’s children, always so patient with the toddler’s. You were cordial, yet stern, with Aegon⎯keeping him in line for the sake of his family when you could. You understood the want for revenge after the loss of his eye. You were just so perfect and kind. He hated how much he fell in love with you.

Watching you chat with some Lord from the Reach, Aemond grits his teeth, shifting around in place. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about you speaking to that Lord, but he would not tell you nor drag you away. He knew that you had some ambition or plan behind speaking to the Lord, one he did not know yet but knew that you would tell him soon enough. You were smart like that.

Looking you over for any sign for him to interfere, he inspects your appearance with a subtle look of love. Your gown was more simple in feature, but a similar green to his Mother’s. Your hair is decorated with pearl and gold dragon hair clips. Your fingers decorated in rings, the sapphire one shining a particular bright. A smug smirk spreads on his lips at the sight of the ring.

“Yes, my lord husband, Prince Aemond is everything that I could ask for.” You nod, “I am content, actually I am more than content Lord Wormwood.”

“I am happy to hear that, your grace. But, I am just suggesting that…should you ever find yourself in need of some company whilst visiting the Reach⎯” Lord Wormwood suggests, making his blood boiling.

“No, now I must return to my husband’s side.” You cut him off, eyes shifting away.

“Just a moment longer⎯” Lord Wormwood tries again, attempting to keep the conversation going.

Watching you straighten up your back and fiddle with your wedding ring, he instantly catches the subtle signal from you. You needed him. Holding his head up a little higher, Aemond saunters over to you, attempting to hide his slightly faster walking pace than usual. Reaching your side in an instant, he gently places his hand on your hip, tucking you into his side.

“Aemond.” You whispers, a subtle glimmer of appreciation in your eyes.

“I do believe that my wife and I have other more important matters than you, Lord Wormwood.” Aemond cuts in, his voice cutthroat.

“I, uh, I well..” Lord Wormwood stutters out, shocked by the sight of Aemond lurking over you like some kind of protective dragon.

“Goodbye, Lord Wormwood.” You nod, dragging him away.

Feeling the tension within the room grow with each second, you softly intertwined your hands with Aemond, to prevent him from reaching for his blade. Tightening your grip on him, you start to drag Aemond away, knowing that he’d make some comment or at worst do something to Lord Wormwood. The last thing you needed and wanted was for a fight to erupt because some stupid old man couldn’t take a hint that you were married.

“Come, come, Aemond. I am sure Helaena will be happy for us to join her.” You lie, tugging at him a little harder.

“Yes, let us go, my wife.” He nods, his voice sharp.

“Come, Aemond.” You grit your teeth, “Let us go, now.”

“Yes.” Aemond glares down the squirming Lord, like he hoped that he would burst into flames.

Cringing at the tension in the air, you tug him a little harder, struggling as he was practically glued to his spot. Sighing as he refuses to move, you press a kiss onto his cheek, using it as a way to soften him just enough to drag him away. Smirking as he instantly melts like a dragon burning a piece of wood, you drag him forcefully, weaving your way through the sea of Courtiers.

“You kissed me.” He mumbles, a faint hum of pink on his cheeks.

“I did.”

“You kissed me, in public.” He repeats, “You have never done that before.”

“Yes, well, I cannot exactly carry you over my shoulder to stop you from killing that man. So a kiss is what it was.” You counters back, a hint of wit in your voice.

Looking over his face in an attempt to see his reaction, he doesn’t really display any emotions, just this flatness which was typical of him. You liked to think he was born with a stone face and that Alicent had mistaken him for a statue instead of a babe. Cocking a brow up at the lack of anything from him, you softly squeeze his hand, attempting to get his attention or something from him.

“I do not like him.” He grumbles, the disdain clear in his voice.

“Oh, really? I had no clue that you disliked him.” You jest, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Do not jest. Tis’ not a jesting manner.” He sulks, “He propositioned you to visit his bedchambers.”

“I know, tis’ why I had you infer. I do not intend to share a bed with any other man than you. So do not even think of entertaining any doubt’s, Aemond.” You argue, quickly dismissing any doubt he may have.

He goes quiet for the longest time. It almost looked like he was actually accepting your words without any possible argument or disagreement. Relaxing for a moment, you watch as he licks his bottom lip, his eye narrowing for a moment.

“Let me kill him.” He mumbles, almost like he was begging you to allow it.

“Not in public.” You argue, not taking him seriously.

“That can be arranged.” He smiles, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

Shaking your head with a gentle scoff, you look over his face for a moment, seeing that he was being serious. The look on your face shifting into one of annoyance. Whilst other men would have lashed out and caused a scene, Aemond was cunning and waited. Like a snake hiding in the tall grass. Smacking his arm softly, he lets out a soft snort, a cheeky little grin spreading on his face.

“No.”

“Fine.” He mumbles, rushing away from you. “I will not be the one to do it.”

“Aemond Targaryen, don’t you dare.” You scold, chasing after him.

---

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

@zaldritzosrose

#house of the dragon #house of dragons #house of dragons x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader

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sepublic · 1 year

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Thinking of how the Titan showed Luz the first glyph, Light, because she was kind to his son and listened to him, made him feel like his interests mattered when so many others overlooked the little guy and didn’t care about people like him. He didn’t force Luz to painstakingly find it on her own, as Philip did; The Titan freely gave this to her.

Then the second glyph, Ice, comes when Luz takes the moment to listen to the Titan; To say that she’ll learn on his terms, she’ll respect his body and work with him. Luz paid attention to the unheard son, and now the parent, speaking with and not for him as Philip did.

She gets the Plant glyph afterwards by continuing to follow that principle and give his son fun and company...

And the final glyph, Fire? Wing it like Witches is a major epiphany for Luz’s development, where it really hits her that she can’t drag her friends around in her attempts to play out certain beloved tropes and story beats she grew up on; In particular, this episode was about her desire to be the underdog hero, dragging Willow into relatively high-stakes consequences for a Grudgby match she did not ask for.

Sound familiar? I wonder if the Titan was low key afraid of Luz following in Philip’s steps, recognized that similar hero complex... Even if Luz was nowhere near as evil as Belos, well. Philip started off from somewhere, he didn’t begin as a genocidal dictator with countless sins to his name, he built his way up. Maybe the Titan is just being paranoid, Luz is so young after all! But in the end, he hid one final glyph from Philip because of his need for control, and it was admittedly Luz who jeopardized this precaution by giving Philip the Light spell.

Yet in Wing it like Witches, Luz really matures when she steps up and takes responsibility for her recklessness, for subsuming Willow’s problem and low key making it about herself, and what she decides for the group. Luz takes the full consequences of the stakes she set up so neither Willow nor Gus have to, and it’s this mature gesture of self-awareness that prompts them to reciprocate and forgive Luz.

So I wonder if THAT moment was what solidified to the Titan that yes, I really can trust this child. This human, the first after centuries of another who has been desecrating my corpse, bastardizing my name; She truly didn’t know any better, and meant well, teaching Philip the Titan’s last glyph. The first few glyphs were like little gifts, but giving Luz the last one meant she had full access to all of the Titan’s magic, so long as she experimented with glyph combos. And the Titan felt safe to entrust her with something he barred from Philip, because why?

Because Luz got over that fatal flaw of Philip’s; The desire to be the hero at any cost. That proved she wouldn’t follow in his footsteps, she diverged at a crucial point, and it meant she’d never become another Belos. They both worked and studied for the glyphs, but what mattered was the compassion that Luz had, and it was her kindness that began her discovery of glyphs. The Titan could trust his final glyph to her, Fire... But as he’d find out, it wasn’t even his final gift to Luz, either.

There really is this recurring arc of hesitancy from the Titan; Someone who was used, betrayed, and taken advantage of. And knew how easy it was for the same to happen to his son. So to see the little ways in which he opens up, recognizes Luz’s kindness and maturity and responds to each step in her growth... It’s like someone learning to trust again, realizing they’ve really found a friend after all. It’s no wonder Luz is treated like an old friend by the Titan, because she is one, and it makes his final gift and farewell to her all the more impactful.

On a lighter note! I’m just imagining the Titan figuring out how to show Luz the Fire glyph, after deciding he’ll do just that. I keep thinking of him watching Luz in the Grudgby game, cheering her on and giving Luz support by illuminating his last glyph in Boscha’s fire; “Here kid, take this!” It’s such a relatively casual and silly moment too, because the Titan isn’t obsessed with the theatrics and drama of godhood.

#the owl house #boiling isles titan #luz noceda #glyphs

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mostlysignssomeportents · 6 months

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An Epic antitrust loss for Google

A jury just found Google guilty on all counts of antitrust violations stemming from its dispute with Epic, maker of Fortnite, which brought a variety of claims related to how Google runs its app marketplace. This is huge:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/12/11/technology/epic-games-google-antitrust-ruling.html

The mobile app store world is a duopoly run by Google and Apple. Both use a variety of tactics to prevent their customers from installing third party app stores, which funnels all app makers into their own app stores. Those app stores cream an eye-popping 30% off every purchase made in an app.

This is a shocking amount to charge for payment processing. The payments sector is incredibly monopolized and notorious for its price-gouging – and its standard (wildly inflated) rate is 2-5%:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

Now, in theory, Epic doesn't have to sell in Google Play, the official Android app store. Unlike Apple's iOS, Android permit both sideloading (installing an app directly without using an app store) and configuring your device to use a different app store. In practice, Google uses a variety of anticompetitive tricks to prevent these app stores from springing up and to dissuade Android users from sideloading. Proving that Google's actions – like paying Activision $360m as part of "Project Hug" (no, really!) – were intended to prevent new app storesfrom springing up was a big lift for Epic. But they managed it, in large part thanks to Google's own internal communications, wherein executives admitted that this was exactly why Project Hug existed. This is part of a pattern with Big Tech antitrust: many of the charges are theoretically very hard to make stick, but because the companies put their evil plans in writing (think of the fraudulent crypto exchange FTX, whose top execs all conferred in a groupchat called "Wirefraud"), Big Tech keeps losing in court:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

Now, I do like to dunk on Big Tech for this kind of thing, because it's objectively funny and because the companies make so many unforced errors. But in an important sense, this kind of written record is impossible to avoid. Any large institution can only make and enact policy through administrative systems, and those systems leave behind a paper-trail: memos, meeting minutes, etc. Yes, we all know that quote from The Wire: "Is you taking notes on a fucking criminal conspiracy?" But inevitably, any ambitious conspiracy can only exist if someone is taking notes.

What's more, any large conspiracy involving lots of parties will inevitably produce leaks. Think of this as the corollary to the idea that the moon landing can't be a hoax, because there's no way 400,000 co-conspirators could keep the secret. Big Tech's conspiracies required hundreds or even thousands of collaborators to keep their mouths shut, and eventually someone blabs:

https://www.science.org/content/article/fake-moon-landing-you-d-need-400000-conspirators

This is part of a wave of antitrust cases being brought against the tech giants. As Matt Stoller writes, the guilty-on-all-counts jury verdict will leak into current and future actions. Remember, Google spent much of this year in court fighting the DoJ, who argued that the company bribed Apple not to make a competing search engine, paying tens of billions every year to keep a competitor from emerging. Now that a jury has convinced Google of doing that to prevent alternative app stores from emerging, claims that it used these pay-for-delay tactics in other sectros get a lot more credible:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/boom-google-loses-antitrust-case

On that note: what about Apple? Epic brought a very similar case against Apple and lost. Both Apple and Epic are appealing that case to the Supreme Court, and now that Google has been convicted in a similar case, it might prompt the Supremes to weigh in and resolve the seeming inconsistencies in the interpretation of federal law.

This is a key moment in the long project to wrest antitrust away from the pro-monopoly side, who spent decades "training" judges to produce verdicts that run counter to the plain language of America's antitrust law:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/13/post-bork-era/#manne-down

There's 40 years' worth of bad precedent to overturn. The good news is that we've got the law on our side. Literally, the wording of the laws and the records of the Congressional debate leading to their passage, all militate towards the (incredibly obvious) conclusion that the purpose of anti-monopoly law is to fight monopoly, not defend it:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men

It's amazing to realize that we got into this monopoly quagmire because judges just literally refused to enforce the law. That's what makes one part of the jury verdict against Google so exciting: the jury found that Google's insistence that Play Store sellers use its payment processor was an act of illegal tying. Today, "tying" is an obscure legal theory, but few doctrines would be more useful in disenshittifying the internet. A company is guilty of illegal tying when it forces you to use unrelated products or services as a condition of using the product you actually want. The abandonment of tying led to a host of horribles, from printer companies forcing you to buy ink at $10,000/gallon to Livenation forcing venues to sell tickets through its Ticketmaster subsidiary.

The next phase of this comes when the judge decides on the penalty. Epic doesn't want cash damages – it wants the judge to order Google to fulfill its promise of "an open, competitive Android ecosystem for all users and industry participants." They've asked the judge to order Google to facilitate third-party app stores, and to separate app stores from payment processors. As Stoller puts it, they want to "crush Google’s control over Android":

https://www.epicgames.com/site/en-US/news/epic-v-google-trial-verdict-a-win-for-all-developers

Google has sworn to appeal, surprising no one. The Times's expert says that they will have a tough time winning, given how clear the verdict was. Whatever this means for Google and Android, it means a lot for a future free from monopolies.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/12/im-feeling-lucky/#hugger-mugger

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queers-gambit · 7 months

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Tell Me Every Terrible Thing

[ part one of two ]

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!Hightower!reader only description given: red hair

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.6k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (brief female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader-episode-insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

part two: "Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, And Let Me Love You Anyway," - Edgar Allan Poe

"How angry do you think he'll be with me?"

You offered your best friend, The Realm's Delight, Crowned Heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra, a unamused, stale look. Sarcastically, you replied, "Oh, come now, Nyrie, why would your father be angry? It couldn't be because you rejected every suitor His Grace put before you, or even how you abruptly ended the tour with two months remaining. What father would be angry after that?"

She groaned, "I know, I know, you don't have to be so right all the bloody time. I just... I couldn't do it anymore, you saw what it was like," her head bowed and you knew the girl was truly overwhelmed by her 'job' picking a suitor.

"This was no easy feat to arrange, Princess," you spoke diplomatically, aware of the ship's crew dotting around the royal ship. "Our fathers went through much difficulty to ensure this tour's success, Princess, and I'd imagine neither will be thrilled by our early arrival."

"But it's just - "

"I know," you soothed with a knowing, sympathetic smile. Your arm extended around her, her head dropping to your shoulder for comfort. "In an ideal world, women would have a real say in their futures. Perhaps, that is what you're meant to do, Nyrie... Perhaps you're meant to break this wheel, give the other half of humanity a fighting chance against the men who have long suppressed us. Being heir is a monumental stereotype to shatter, but most women are not born into royalty and have nobody protecting or defending them."

She picked her head up to stare at you for a single moment, then nodded slowly, "That's a lot of pressure."

"Less if you pick a respectable man to help you lead," you advised softly, reaching to caress her cheek briefly. "You're to be Queen, Nyra, which means you need a King Consort that the common folk will respect, who will play his part in the courts to come. I know it's not ideal, my friend, but it's not meant to be - it's meant to be strategic." You paused, adding, "Similar to Ali marrying your father, yes? That was a strategic move on my father's end. Now it's up to you to chose your own match, to plot your own strategy."

"Who would you see me marry?"

"In truth? I'm unsure if anyone would fit the bill perfectly, so, I don't know who I could see you with. Definitely someone smart, though."

She only hummed, sighing deeply and making you frown. Before another word could be said, there came a distant screech that sounded all too familiar - though you refused to let it show that you knew this particular dragon's sound.

Nyra moved away from the ship's railing to stare longingly up into the sky, and about a minute later, without visible sight of any threat, Ser Criston Cole was shouting, "Take cover!"

And then, like a bird swooping to snatch a fish, a crimson dragon descended from the cover of clouds - seemingly materializing from nowhere. The large, long, slithery beast with wings knocked into the ship's main mast; jolting everyone on board enough to topple over.

You tried to stabilize the Princess, but you lost balance and dropped to your knees as Cole rushed to help Rhaenyra to her feet. When able, you looked to the sky; grinning to yourself as you recognized the retreating Blood Wyrm. Seeing the distinct form of Caraxes made you giddy with anticipation, however, that was short lived as you clocked Rhaenyra's gaze of awe and wonder.

It seems she was excited for her uncle's return, too. Though, it won't be till later that you learn the extent of her adoration.

Less than an hour later, the ship was docking and you escorted Princess Rhaenyra from aboard; her guards surrounding you both as you trekked to the Red Keep. "Just... Perhaps try to stay invisible," you advised your friend, arm-in-arm. "The King won't be pleased if you interrupt court, even just by being there. With luck, we won't be noticed."

She agreed softly, continuing on. She started fiddling with her necklace, the piece of Valyrian Steel jewelry that her uncle, Daemon, had gifted her years ago before Queen Aemma passed away. Your lover had told you the Princess was owed a piece of her Valyrian history, and since he could not gift a sword to a young lady, the necklace was chosen, crafted, and gifted.

When you returned to the Red Keep, it was just in time for court to be called to session and your friend was all too eager to join. "Nyra," you warned, hand in hers.

"It's all right," she assured, "come, it must be Daemon - "

"No, I should return to my chamber. Don't piss your father off too much," you warned her with a smirk, watching her grin in response, squeeze your hand, and then file into the Throne Room with the other members of court.

You retreated to your old room, sighing in relief when you discovered nothing was disturbed. "My Lady!" A voice gasped at the open door. You glanced over, smiling at Milah, your usual handmaiden, and opening your arms when she rushed forward. "You're not supposed to be back yet! Oh!" She tutted, looking you over. "I'll get your bed made and - "

"No, it's fine - "

"Nonsense, let me do this," she insisted, already busying around the room. "I was wondering why they were bringing things into the foyer - must be all the Princess' luggage, hmm?"

"Yeah," you sighed, helping her strip the bed and change the sheets. "It was strange," you admitted, "the men, I mean, and the way they all competed for her hand in marriage."

"Did you expect anything else?"

"I did not think they'd honestly kill one another. Though it was more so their pride than the Princess they fought over."

Milah smirked, "Sounds about right. Well, what of you? Anyone catch your eye?"

"Of course not," you sighed a little sadly.

"Still hung on the Prince, aren't you, my Lady?"

"Perhaps," you mused.

You spent the better part of an hour gossiping with Milah before she had to go grab a few things, but promised she'd send your belongings up as soon as possible. You thanked her, walked her out, assuring you were just going to get a bath or something, and just as you shut and locked your chamber door, gasped when a pair of hands seized your waist.

"Daemon!" You hissed when you saw the short, white locks of your surprise guest. "The bloody fuck is wrong with you?" You demanded, turning in his grip to shove your hands into his chest. "What're you doing here? Want to get us caught?"

"Three years," he grit, gathering you in his arms to heave upward and force your legs around his waist if you wanted to keep balance, "three fucking years I've been gone - away - missing you, do not deprive me a moment more."

"Someone will come looking," you whispered, caressing his face as your forehead met his. "And perhaps I want a moment to just look at you, 's been years," you breathed. "You cut your hair," you commented, running your hands through the short strands.

"I cut my hair," he agreed softly, just holding you close and tight.

"I like it... But I'll miss braiding it."

"I will, too," he admitted. He nuzzled closer, inhaling your neck sharply, boldly licking a flat tongue up your pulse point to make you shudder lightly.

"Daemon," you whispered, pulling his head back so you could look in his eyes, beaming, "I missed you, too."

"Viserys is arranging a lunch for my return," he informed, turning so he could approach your newly-made four-poster bed; dropping you flat on your back with a grin. "Which roughly translates into only allotting a few minutes to make up for lost time."

"We will have time later - "

"I overheard Viserys saying he and Otto intend to take evening tea with you regarding the Princess' return from tour," he eased, reaching to spread your legs, bunching your skirts. "But I will call upon you tomorrow? Yes? Officially?"

"If you insist," you teased, letting him finally descend to smash his lips against yours. In truth, you were used to his empty promises of 'calling on you officially' because of his marriage to Lady Royce, but it was his way of telling you without words that he wished it was you instead of Rhea.

Daemon groaned, melting into your form; breathing heavily. "I've missed you past words," he whispered, nuzzling your nose with his. "But for now, I just need a taste - "

"We don't have time - "

"We'll be fast. Tell me, love," he nipped your pouting lips, soothing his tongue over the puckered skin, "have you taken another in my absence?"

"Of course not," you hissed in offense.

"Good," he nodded, kissing you sweetly.

"Need I ask?"

"There were no concubines," he mused, "though, they were offered, I did not accept. So, we'll be quick - faster than quick," he promised, pawing at your undergarments and exposing your dampening cunt to his sight. "I'll take my time with you later, but for now, I need this," he all but seethed before diving tongue-first into your core.

His spit mixed with your arousal, creating a slippery mess.

"Shit," you hissed, grabbing his shorter hair as his tongue flattened to lap at your entrance, dripping in your essence. One of his hands held your thighs apart for his access, the other releasing his cock from the pair of breeches he wore. Daemon groaned at the taste of you, lapping wildly like a man starved, and stroking his bare cock in rhythm with his ministrations.

It truly took no time at all once he found your clit and sucked mercilessly, the hand holding your thighs now extended up to paw roughly at your tits. Alternating his tongue around your sloppy cunt added to your heightening pleasure, swirling his tongue as he bobbed and shook his head - making an absolute mess, and causing your climax to shatter your mind and soul.

Your legs twitched, spine curled, stomach contracted as your arms quivered from the rush of adrenaline; hand slapped over your mouth to keep your moans to a minimum. You grabbed his hair so tightly, he groaned in mock pain; legs then contracting to a suffocating grip around his ears and head while Daemon met his own end, spending in his hand whilst milking you for all you had.

He panted with satisfaction when he pulled back, grinning at you in mischief when you released your hold on him. "Good fuckin' girl," he praised, standing to his feet only to slither over top of you. "Like not a day's gone by, huh?" He whispered, kissing you messily, smearing your cum on your tongue; grinding his bare cock into your recovering core to make you shudder. "Take a moment, then get ready," he whispered. "I expect to see you at the celebrations... Wear that dress I got you for your fifth-and-twentieth nameday," he smirked, adding, "if you'd so please, my darling."

You chuckled, "You magically learned manners during the war?"

"Perhaps," he mused, pecking your lips again.

"Hey, Daemon?"

"What is it, my sweet one?" He asked, seeing the sincerity in your eyes and hearing the seriousness in your voice - something in his heart jumping.

"Would you tell me about it all later? The war, I mean? Would you tell me what you've endured?"

"I do not think it's a tale befitting a lady's ears."

"Please? I wish to know..."

"Then I will tell you," he promised, "but only if you wear that dress."

Your eyes rolled in humor as Daemon stood. You watched him wipe his cum on a spare rag, tossing it away, and after one last kiss, was leaving out of the secret passageway's door. Taking another moment, you finally stood on weak legs and unlocked the main door, preparing how you could for your day before Milah returned.

After arriving at the luncheon, you made a beeline for your father, greeting him happily before explaining your surprise reappearance. He filled you in on that day's court, explaining that Prince Daemon was back; and you felt almost guilty for the way your skin was still set ablaze from your lover's earlier visit.

For all Otto's faults, he was still your father, and you felt guilty for sneaking around with Daemon behind his back. Your father ushered you off to mingle, insisting he was only there for the King; and no, he wasn't hungry. So, you parted ways with a chaste peck to your forehead; the feeling of his scratchy beard lingering on your guilt-riddled flesh.

"Sister, what a surprise!" Alicent happily distracted by greeting you with a bright grin. You adjusted course to approach the Queen, King, and newly-returned Prince. "Oh, what a lovely dress you've chosen," she complimented with ease, reaching for your hand. "You always do have the best eye for clothes, I feel as if need you to live in my wardrobe, tell me what to wear everyday."

"Thank you, Your Grace, I'd be honored," You smiled at her, holding her hand, looking to the others. "My King," you curtsied to Viserys, glancing at Daemon and bowing your head respectfully, "my Prince, how nice to see you, again. Welcome home."

"Thank you, my Lady," he smirked. "Might I welcome you home as well? I hear you've been gone from the Capital."

You hummed with a nod, "I was on tour with the Princess, my Prince. I've only arrived home today, as well - though not by dragonback."

He eyed you up and down, offering, "I must agree with the Queen, my Lady, that is a lovely dress you've chosen."

You pet the black material, smiling genuinely, "Thank you, my Prince. It's one of my favorites."

"I can see why, given how beautiful you look," he flirted, and from behind you and Alicent, you could hear your father scoff.

"Thank you," you whispered. "What conversation did I rudely interrupt before?"

"Oh, nothing of importance," Daemon told you, looking to his brother and your sister.

"Because we spoke of how Daemon, here, was always Mother's favorite," Viserys grinned. "Do you want to know, my Lady? About how much Mother adored Daemon?" He asked you, his little brother trying to drone over him - but Viserys was determined to tell you the examples he could think of regarding his brother's favoritism.

You giggled from both Viserys' stories and Daemon's evident embarrassment.

However, almost awkwardly, on Alicent's other side, Princess Rhaenyra approached the group and stood amongst you. You knew the King must be unhappy with his daughter, but did not voice any opinion since you were not the source of disappointment at the moment. Instead, you listened to the King's complimenting words to his brother; thinking it was interesting that Daemon was so egotistical and yet, flushed under his brother's praise. Princess Rhaenyra waited until a natural lull to tell Daemon, "Congratulations on your victory."

It was awkward as Viserys just glared at her, Rhaenyra's expression falling short. Daemon covered smoothly, "Thank you, Princess."

Trying to save the tension, your sweet sister offered, "Perhaps Prince Daemon would care for a tour of the gallery? He hasn't yet seen the new tapestries gifted to you by Norvos and Qohor."

Viserys nodded and whispered, "Oh, oh," mockingly. He asked his brother, "Would you like to see the tapestries?" But by the end, he broke character and laughed with his brother; the latter who whom you knew spat on trivial things - such as tapestries and such. Through their laughter, Viserys proclaimed to his wife, "He has no interest in such things!"

"But thank you for the offer, sister," you smiled at her, trying to reassure her when her husband laughed in her face. "The tapestries are very beautiful, you've chosen a grand place to display them. I saw them on my way here."

"I'd like to see them," Rhaenyra jumped in, seemingly to Alicent's aid - something she'd not done in an age considering the tension between them. You just smiled politely, seeing the way Viserys dropped his grin when he looked at his daughter with distain while the rest of you looked away sheepishly.

"Then you should not deprive yourself."

Rhaenyra offered a pained, pursed smile, "I shall enjoy them alone."

You, Alicent, and Daemon all stared after Rhaenyra with varying degrees of pity as she walked away to sit solemnly by herself on a distant bench while Viserys went on about his and Daemon's youth; over Daemon being their mother's favorite. However, Alicent excused herself to follow the saddened Rhaenyra, perhaps to offer the Princess comfort in her father's anger. The King looked ready to protest, but instead just shook his head in disappointment.

Viserys turned you and Daemon away from the sight of the girls, showing off the Godswood in bloom; your father approaching you three stiffly. "Your Grace," he bowed to Viserys, then nodded in resepct, "my Prince. Daughter," he smiled, trying to instigate, "how was tour with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"Oh, as eventful as a Royal Tour can be," you smiled, deflecting, "though I must admit, while seemingly exciting at some parts, I'm sure it pales terribly in comparison to the Prince's adventures in the Stepstones." Viserys smirking broadly at your redirection. "I do wonder, what brought the war to an end? We've heard rumor, but surely the Prince might know for sure what brought the Triarchy down?"

"Surely," The King nodded, looking to Daemon expectedly.

The Rogue Prince smirked and readjusted his stance, deflecting, "Perhaps a conversation for later."

"Oh, come now, brother!"

"Your Grace," Otto interrupted, "I do apologize, but there are matters at hand that require your attention. The Tully's still - "

He sighed and waved your father off, "Yes, yes... Well," Viserys nodded, "I'll call upon you both later."

"Your Grace," you instantly curtsied.

"Your Grace," Daemon bowed right after. Viserys smiled and nodded back at you both, patted his brother's shoulder, turned, and when he walked away, Otto followed with a single look to you and Daemon.

"Daughter," he bid curtly - and you read between the lines. He really wanted to say, "Do not linger around the Prince."

When the King moved, his usual procession of advisors, guards, and entourage followed right after. You sighed as almost all of the Godswood cleared out, Daemon eyeing you as he readjusted his stance; subtly reaching out to pet your hand with his fingers.

"Daemon," you warned quietly.

"Nobody is watching us," he smirked. "You look beautiful, love. I'll have to buy you more dresses, you wear them so well."

"I cannot believe I will not see you tonight," you whispered with a pout.

"I will call on you tomorrow," he reminded.

You opened your mouth, but another voice answered. "Sister," Alicent called, you looking over and smiling innocently. You caught sight of Princess Rhaenyra glaring at her uncle, but didn't think much of it.

"I look forward to your tales from the Stepstones," you told him calmly, offering a curtesy.

He took your hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back, "I look forward to any time spect together, my Lady."

You hummed in contentment before stepping away, instantly taking Alicent's arm when close enough. "What was that about? Daemon looks so smitten!" She whispered with a growing grin.

"He was being polite," you whispered back, "and simply being Daemon - you know how he is. He's got three years of mischief to make up for."

"I see," she giggled. "He's quite handsome with the short hair, isn't he? It suits him well."

"I have to agree," you gossiped. "I can see why the ladies of court have missed him so."

Your younger sister giggled, smiling at you, offering, "I've missed you greatly. Come... I wish to hear of your time away."

"Oh, sister, please, I've only just returned."

"But... Wouldn't you tell me before the King?" She whispered.

You paused, then nodded, "Got me there, sister-dearest."

"We'll take tea together," she decided, leading you around the Keep until she saw a familiar face she knew. "Talya, my sister and I wish to take tea in the gardens, please. Privately, of course, so do not announce it," she directed the handmaiden. "We'll be in the gazebo in the rose gardens, bring tea, sandwiches, and my sister's always loved those peach crumbles?"

"I know the dessert," she nodded, smiling at you. "Can I interest you, Your Grace, in anything specific?"

"No, but bring enough for us both. Come, sister."

You three parted ways, Alicent leading you to the gardens as promised. She dismissed anyone in the area, even telling her guards to wait at the front hedges to give you ideal privacy while deeper in the roses at the gazebo. While sitting, you exchanged gossip about what happened while you were away, Alicent happy to catch you up because she was happy to finally have a friend, even if it were a sister, back in her corner.

You were happy, too.

While you loved Rhaenyra, the tension between her and Ali made you feel in the middle despite both parties assuring you "you weren't". Nyra was a good friend, your best, even! But it was something about your sister that was calming and assuring. She was trustworthy to a fault, but she was still your strongest pillar.

As Talya dressed your table with tea, lemon water, sandwiches, fruits, and other foods (including the peach crumbles), you giggled at Ali's retelling of whatever failed proposals occurred this past season you were away. When alone, at last, Ali turned to you in her padded chair and asked, "Tell me in truth, how was the tour? Why did you return early?"

"In truth, sister, vying men made the Princess uncomfortable. She did not need the two months more, she knew she was unhappy with the men so far presented to her."

Alicent sighed, "So, who does she intend to marry?"

"Yes," a new voice agreed, you both jumping in shock and looking up to see Viserys approaching with your father behind him. "Who does my daughter intend to wed, Lady Hightower?"

"Your Grace," you uttered, both you and Alicent standing in respect to bow your heads.

"Please, please," he permitted you both to sit, taking the lone chair across the table as your father remained standing. "I only wish for the unfiltered truth. I know what is said, I know what is reported, I know..." He sighed, "I know what my daughter might say, but please, Lady Hightower, what is the truth of it?"

"The truth, Your Grace, is that Rhaenyra was overwhelmed. Perhaps it was too long for her that she eventually, I'm not sure, shut down? She did not care towards the end which men was presented, she was overwhelmed with the options and pace at which everything moved."

"Kings and Princes before her have done the same, many Queens and Princesses embarking on their tours to find proper suitors," Otto reminded. "Why was this different, my Lady?"

"Because she is the first," you reminded. "Never before has a woman been named heir - she holds a different responsibility. Perhaps having everything thrown at her was too much, she has to filter through lesser men that would be King Consort. Nobody stood out, she became discouraged, and honestly, Your Grace?" You spoke earnestly, "I think it just made her sad. She did not want to disappoint you by choosing a man not worthy of being her King, so, she would rather face your anger in coming home early."

Alicent frowned but nodded to herself.

Otto adverted his eyes.

Viserys looked dejected, but sighed, "I see... Thank you for your words, my Lady, truly, you've always been a trustworthy advisor to the Queen, Princess, and I."

"It's the least I can do, Your Grace, since you and Queen Aemma - you - you were so kind to me when Mother passed. And Rhaenyra - to both Alicent and I - she was a true friend. I am in debt to you, Your Grace, and whatever I can do, be it just a simple different perspective, I am happy to provide."

"Well," he considered, "in the spirit of your unfiltered perspective, who would you see Rhaenyra marry?"

You blinked in shock, "Oh, Your Grace, I-I am not qualified to say."

"You serve as my Master of Whispers, do you not?" He smirked. "Speak, please."

You sighed deeply. With a small gulp, you blinked twice, then admitted, "I do not think my opinion matters, but... It would make sense to marry her to Ser Laenor Velaryon, would it not? He's a warrior who survived the Stepstones, is of Valyrian stock and blood, rides the dragon, Seasmoke. He's kind, brave, true, unmarried, heir to Driftmark. I think when it comes to filling the position of King Consort, Ser Laenor Velaryon would make a fine candidate."

Apparently, this was all Viserys needed to hear.

You could not sleep that night. You could not explain why, but something foul was in the air and prevented you from drifting off. So, you chose to browse your private library, select a literary favorite, and stroll the deadened halls of the Red Keep; reading by flickering torch light.

Good thing you were up and out, because one of your Little Birds chirped at you from the shadows. You looked around to see nobody in the hall, but another chirp directed your attention to a darkened alcove. "Hmm, oh, Kaela," you hummed, approaching her slowly and bending at the waist. "What is it, child?"

"I came as fast as I could."

"What's wrong?"

"I've seen something - something you'll want to know," she glanced up and down the hall, "but not anyone else."

"Come," you whispered, pushing her further back into the dark and sheltering yourselves safely. Once knelt before her, you asked the child, "All right. What is it you have seen, little one?"

"Do not get angry, my Lady..."

"I promise I won't," you spoke softly, confused - you never got angry at your Little Birds... Why start now?

"I-I saw... I saw the Prince Daemon and... Princess Rhaenyra."

You nodded slowly, asking quietly, "Where?"

"In the city, in a pleasure house."

You blinked, "And what were they doing?"

"What grown-ups do."

"I see. They were coupling?"

She shrugged, "No, just kissing, but it stopped fast. He left her there."

"He left her there? In the pleasure house?"

The little girl nodded. "The Prince looked sad... When the Princess tried to kiss him again, he pulled away... Then he left."

"Where did he go? After?"

She blinked, frowning, "My brother, Grenn, said he saw him at the pubs - but he was always on the move, very drunk. I came here right away."

"Good girl," you smiled, offering her whatever Gold Dragons from the pouch you usually kept on your person under your robe for times like this. "Where will you be tomorrow evening? I will bring you and Grenn supper."

She smiled, "We can meet you at the dock!"

"The dock?"

"He likes watching the boats."

"The docks, then. By the Fisherman's Pier?"

"No, Grenn like the Harper's Pier. They're not there around supper, they're still out at sea."

"Harper's Pier for supper," you agreed. "Go on."

The little girl looked around before scampering off down a different passageway and you stood from your knelt position with a stony look of tentative contemplation on your face. With a deep breath, you did the only thing you thought you could... You went to your father.

With a rapid knock at his chamber door, it took a moment or two before he was opening it - still dressed. "What is it, daughter?" He asked gruffly. "It's late, this should wait till morning."

"The castle is about to wake - "

"I know and I've much to attend to - "

"Father," you hissed, glancing up the hall.

He sighed and let you in, "What is it?"

"I carry scandalous news," you muttered, his door's lock echoing around you. "About the Princess Rhaenyra."

He turned to you sharply, you taking a step back in surprise. "You... Know?"

"About her sneaking around in a pleasure house?"

Otto frowned, "Do you know with who?"

You could not tell him, so you answered, "No, just that she was seen in disguise."

"Who told you this?"

"One of my Birdies."

"All right," he decided, nodding to himself, "thank you, daughter, for reporting this. I will... I will figure out what to say to the King."

"Should you say anything?"

"I'll figure it out - but now we both know."

You nodded, "So you knew before I came?"

"I was awoken an hour ago to hear this news."

You nodded slowly, "Then I will leave you to it."

"Thank you," he whispered, letting you peck his cheek in parting before slipping out of his chambers. With nothing left to do or anything else to say, you went back to your chambers as to limit your exposure to the castle's tenants.

The less that could say they saw you this night, the better.

Once safe in your chambers with a locked main door, you could do nothing else but (over)think, wishing to all the Seven Gods you didn't know what you knew. Information and knowledge was vital to maintain power, this is true, but it also made you dangerous - also a target. The more you knew, the bigger the target.

It was only a few hours after dawn when the secret passage doors to your chamber opened. You were braiding your hair, ignoring the man you knew to have the only balls to use that door - especially now.

"I've always wondered, if we had children, would they have white hair or waves of fire, like you? Perhaps something between?"

"Fuck off, Daemon."

"So, you've heard," he sighed deeply. "Won't you even look at me?"

"I can't stand the very thought of you right now, nor the actual sound, I'll lose my stomach if I have to look at you."

"Let me tell you the truth," he begged, "before I have to leave the Keep, let me tell you the truth. Let Viserys and everyone have their ideas and opinions, their lies and slander, but let me tell you!"

"Excuse me?" You asked, whirling around in your seat to glare at him fully. "Viserys banished you, again?"

"He did... Back to the Vale."

You scoffed, "Good... Your Lady wife awaits you."

"Viserys thinks I've sullied Rhaenyra's virtue. I do not need you thinking the same, so, please, let me tell you what happened - no matter how uncomfortable, please, let me tell you the truth."

"What difference does it make?"

"I can't have you thinking something more occurred. Was I tempted? Yes, but I refrained. Did I touch her? A little - but not how you think."

You sighed, shaking your head, "I don't care, you're returning to your wife in the Vale, and I will be rid of you. No matter for how long this time, you will be gone - "

"For a time, yes, but I intend to return for you."

"No, I think I'll let Father make me a match. I despised the North, it was too cold, so the handsome Cregan Stark is out. I don't mind Dorne, perhaps a Martel to marry? Or even a Tully of Riverrun?"

"Do not speak such atrocities to me."

"You're one to talk! Your niece, Daemon? The girl I consider my closest friend? You couldn't just find that whore you like and be satisfied with her? Couldn't wait a single day, could you? Huh? How fucking pathetic!"

"Perhaps you are not as close with Rhaenyra as you thought," he tisked, making you feel disarmed. He spent the next hour and a half explaining to you what happened the previous night, and despite your disgust, you just listened.

Knowledge was power.

"I will return," he sighed at the end, "and in that time, you can make your own decisions if you want me or not. But I will return and I will have you, if you will have me, and this foolishness will be behind us."

"I'll give you a single year. I will not wait for you longer than that," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I can't stand that you've done this, but I will wait one single year for you to find a way out of your marriage and back to me. Any longer than that, and I will simply move on. I do not want to live my whole life in the Red Keep, and the truth of it is, I cannot live in the Princess' shadow any longer. One year, Daemon."

"One year," he nodded, stepping closer. "My love, please - "

"Do not assume to touch me. Not after you've touched her," you snapped, stepping away. "Get out, I need to be alone, you have been banished - you need to go, you cannot be seen here." Your eyes rolled, muttering, "Probably have to go collect your whore for this banishment, too."

"Not this time," he smirked, "this time, I leave with my promise that I will return for you, my sweet Lady Hightower."

"Fuck off, you perverted Prince Daemon," you sassed, watching him slip out the door; shutting you in an echoing silence. Your heart ripped itself apart, making you wonder what the fuck you had done to deserve getting caught in such a scandalous affair. But you knew, in your heart, you'd do anything for Daemon - the thought sickening your stomach as you pondered how far this would all go.

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