#r.t. makes gifs

[dudefrommywesterns]

sure. why not.

[zackcollins]

Smooth Moves || Atlantis: The Lost Empire || 2001

[themotherofblood]

chapter 6 | river of fire | d.t x reader x r.t | there is much to say

series masterlist | masterlist | previous chapter

a/n: so finally we pick up from where we left off, with some major changes, while I will always love the first original chapter of the brothel scene, i needed to do my girlie some justice

warnings: daemon being kinda gross.

synopsis: daemon returns to the red keep, to find a much grown version of his young cousin and his niece.

The court had finally come to weigh upon Viserys’s shoulders, three parchments, all borne by white ravens. One from the Stepstones, one from Storm’s End and the other from the Old Palace. The missed warmth and wrath were all returning at once.

One rebel posed as his brother, one nuisance his daughter and the other, his wounded pride— his ward.

“Preparations have been made your grace, at the cost to the crown, a feast seems appropriate given the occasion. The Targaryen seat brimming full again.” Lord Beesbury coughed out his accounting.

“In lieu, your grace. I don’t find a feast appropriate upon the way all three of them have disobeyed your wishes.” Otto Hightower interjected, “perhaps the costs could be levied elsewhere.”

“Nonsense! My family is together after many moons, we should celebrate, find a reason to indulge in cups,” Viserys chuckled, looking at Lord Strong for his support.

It was the truth, Daemon begun a war without the direct command of his King, aiding Lord Corlys in his excertions upon the Stepstones. Whereas Rhaenyra, dismissed an entire court of suitors, ending a very heftily paid for tour to an end; three moons and early— then there was you. Fleeing the Capital without the King’s consent, boarding a ship to return to your brother, the cause? Knew no one but one, Alicent and she too shielded the truth of the matter.

And thus the word spread, the dragons had come to roam the streets of King’s Landing again.

Rhaenyra was the first to return, anxiously awaiting the brunt of her father’s disappointment.

You must marry, it is your duty. You must bear heirs, it is your duty.

She had grown tired of what her possible duties would be when she herself couldn’t implement one condition at the Small Council table, a poser amongst the one’s with true power. She felt left out, unseen— and her father believed that marriage would fix her unmoving temper, like a man in her vicinity would make her womanly thinking turn to putty.

Not one, not one of those morons would come near to be a possible husband for her, but more so than that, she wished that her lover would understand so. That for her, you would forever be the true bearer of her unencumbered devotions, her unconditional love. Yet the weight of responsibility had weakened your shoulders too, for you heard the same but one less.

You must marry, you must bear children.

And thus the fight, a terrible arguement between two hearts that always beat as one.

“I would never be your wife! Ever.”

There had been copious tears and then a conspicuous letter, then followed silence and Rhaenyra’s tour.

Her heart wasn’t in this, she cared not if she ever loved her husband, she didn’t want one in the first place. Even beyond Viserys’s advise, a man? A man couldn’t be worth her happiness.

She is a dragon rider, the Heir to the Iron Throne. A measly being possessing a cock wouldn’t cut it.

Her ship’s sails had caught the wind, she stood on the deck, twiddling her thumbs as she laments of returning to a cold half of her apartments. Her ladies in waiting and plenty other friends to keep her company and yet she couldn’t muster an apology to make you return home. More than a year apart, without a word— the agony should have dwindled but it lingered, prickling around her heart every night as she slept alone.

Nyra held hope that she would catch a glimpse of your face once more, run her hands through your wild hair, feel the burning chill of your fingertips and the softness of your full lips. If the world around her was just quiet enough, she could feel it, a ghostly touch pressed to her lips— only to break her heart once more as she opened her eyes.

“Princess?” Criston Cole tore her attention from her wide eyed face staring down at the Blackwater.

“We should make landfall within the hour.”

She hums following with a nod, her lips part with hesitance.

“How do you think he will take it?” She seeks perspective, perhaps to find a lighter response of possibilities than the terrible ones that stirred in her head.

“Do you speak of how curtly you’ve rejected every suitor put before you or how you have abruptly ended the tour with three months remaining.”

Rhaenyra defensively blinks away, understanding the point Cole made but partly from the anxiety of it all, willing Syrax to fly to her and flitter her away to the Summer Isles or far up the mountains in the Vale.

She returned to the storm in her head, hearing the waves and the wind jostle by her ears, the smell of salt and fish in the air and chirping, wild chirping.

Her head bolted to the skies, a noise she hadn’t heard for years.

“Take cover!” Cristin Cole screamed, taking his princess down with him.

However Rhaenyra’s eyes were fixated upon the red creature that flew dangerously close to her boat.

Caraxes… Uncle Daemon.

The smell of this bustled city once again graced Daemon’s nostrils, the cheap mead of the people and the golden painted whores of his cherished brothels all celebrated the return of their beloved Prince.

Armour clad and crowned with his haughtiness adorned in his hip, he swaggered in the Throne Room, the familiar scent of pompous perfumed cunts made him sick and yet, the smirk of victory did not leave his face as he eyed down his brother.

Gods he looks sickly, gloved hands and his body weight leaning upon Blackfyre, a sword once meant to wield the firey might of House Targaryen was now diminished to be an old man’s cane. What had happened to him. They are but four years apart in age, and while one brother stood tall in posture and tore down enemies by the hundreds. The other a King, dressed in fineries to shield the dismantling resolution of his health— he reeked of illness.

He stops in front of his brother’s Kingsgaurd, arm outstretched with Craghis Drahar’s axe at the hilt of his palm, pointing it straight at Viserys’s face. A fine present that he drops by the King’s feet.

“Add it to the chair,” he blankly says before retreating, clutching onto the pommel of Dark Sister.

He could feel it, the plenty of gazes fixated upon the crown of bones and rubies placed on his head, there could only be one king.

While Daemon adored the amusing chaos he brought to court, the unpredictability— they all saw him a monster, he knew so. Defiant, vulgar and a rake through and through. He wouldn’t disrespect his brother, not in open court and not without reason.

Daemon knelt, head bowed as he presented his earned crown to his brother.

“There is only one true King, your grace.”

Viserys looked to Otto Hightower, the cunt, eyeing away at Viserys to reject Daemon’s honour— once more denying Daemon’s adoration for his brother to be a malformation of his envy or ambitions.

Viserys descended the steps, still eyeing his younger brother with contempt, or mayhaps doubt.

“Rise.” He ordered, patting Daemon’s shoulder.

Both of them stiff yet brothers once again untied, Daemon bowed his head, resting on Viserys shoulder as they embraced one another.

Daemon relished the embrace as the court around him erupted in an applause, he heard a distinct voice— whose eyes he had witnessed preening at him as he walked into the Throne Room.

rūs— Rhaenyra.

Daemon turns to her, leading himself out with Viserys as the court begins to disband. Viserys however shoots scorned look towards his daughter, a look Daemon frowned over, in Viserys’s eyes Rhaenyra could do no wrong. His curiosity caught a waft of tension and he wondered. What could his brother’s heir have concocted this time to truly face the wrath of Viserys’s rare occurrence of anger.

It seemed that his worries about him not being welcomed home had been for nothing, Viserys had already a feast awaiting for his brother in the Godswood. Wines and musicians, foods of his liking and women of his taste already lined the halls.

“No no, I will not hear it. You were always mother’s favourite!” Viserys chuckled as he reminisced stories of their shared youth with his young wife in presence.

A gauche scene really, and yet Daemon eyes seemed to have caught another serene sight entirely.

The head of silky silver locks, developing curves accentuated by the low hemmed cream gown and eyes that much looked like his, Rhaenyra, much had truly changed, and perhaps a salacious opportunity.

He wandered over to her, avoiding one droll conversation after the other.

“What have you done?” Daemon nudged her shoulder.

“Rejected every suitor in all of Westeros.” She hummed back, licking the sweetness of the lemon cakes off her fingertips.

“Well done!” He chuckled.

She looked to him, rolling her eyes, “well you have return, the prize of my father’s eyes.”

Daemon chuckled once more, shaking his head. His eyes finding a much familiar necklace adorning her neck, and just so— much had changed but nothing at all.

“You’ve changed.”

“As have you Princess.” Daemon looked around as the crowd in the Godswood dwindled.

“You seem calmer, more content perhaps.”

“You seem besides it.” Daemon countered.

“Well it seems my station provided me with ample— discrepancies.” She scoffs.

He sat there, in an odd sense of familiarity. Once again loved, not in the thrall-ish way he often seems to force it out of the common folk, but truly wanted. In the presence of his family, his only pride and at times joy.

Though one figure he registered had been missing all this while, a little dragon in viper’s clothing. The wild mess of dark curls and hesitant eyes— he’d have thought he’d see you first, and yet you were no where to be seen.

The air pulled against the loose wisps of your done up hair, you leaned against the barricaded balcony of your cabin, feeling the waves sway beneath as your ship sailed into the Blackwster Bay. The muddled dark colour of the ocean taking over the serene blue of The Sunset Sea, the murky waters leading it ugly way to once a place you dearly wanted to return to but were afraid too.

On the horizon you could see Rhaenys Hill, the gates of the city and the Bell Tower. Calling to you as you thought of all the possible earfuls of lectures Viserys was about to grace you with.

“How could you take off with my leave?”

Much had changed since you had left, both in reality and within yourself, you looked more a woman than a child, you had flowered. While showing to court in the robes you had on now would be just a little inappropriate. The Martell that you once pushed away, now towered with you with a spear in hand. Such was the Gods choosing you wondered, while your brother Qoren was the perfect portrait of Martell seed, leaving but just his olive skin a testament to your father. His brownish curls and striking purple eyes called to his Targaryen heritage even as he sat on the Martell seat to rule its lands.

You on the other hand, had paler skin than most of the Dornish kin, wide and expressive hazel eyes and ever since you flowered. Thicker streaks of silver that shone bright within the ample strands of your wild brown hair. A small token of your Valyrian heritage, of your mother Daenerys and her eyes. If one looked closely, a ring of lilac crowned the brown of your pupils.

Just this time as you returned, perhaps born anew to your role in the Targaryen dynasty. You were no longer timid, your tongue as sharp as the shot you could take with your bow and arrow and a mind far wise to irk the pompous men at court. Returning home did you good, as your people would call it. All though you were sure Septa Marlow would do naught but sneer at how mismanaged a young princess could become.

Fuck that.

Even as your ship anchored to a halt, with boats circling to receive you and your party. You couldn’t take your eyes off of the Red Keep. Would it have changed in the past year and half, would Viserys be healthier. You wanted to know this instant and yet no answers were brought to you.

Your old jeweled palaquin sat waiting for you, with four Targaryen guards at each pole hilt, you hiked your soft pink skirts to prevent any dirt staining the delicate fabric as you crouched to enter the vessel.

The city still smelled the same, perhaps worse— but it was home, your childhood. The swaying of the palaquin pulled you further into your thoughts, a sick anxiety twisted at your insides as you readjusted your dupatta.

There was barely a procession levied to your name as you stepped out to the courtyard, you heard Oberya scoff behind you; her arched brows scrunched to portray her dismay to the empty courtyard. You were a Princess after all, a name deserved the gathering of at least the Small Council if not the King himself.

“yahain vapis nahi ana chahiye tha rajkumari.” Oberya shook her head. We shouldn’t have returned Princess.

You sighed, hiking your skirts once more to walk behind the guards escorting you— no doubt to the Throne Room where you were certain you would hear an earful from the King himself or perhaps a monotone warning from Otto Hightower. A chill ran down your spine, imagining the steel purple eyes glaring down at you with the weight of his disappointments.

You stood by the door, reminding yourself to breathe, nice large huffs of breaths to fill your lungs and ease the sinking pit in your belly. You nod your head, letting your party and Oberya disperse to their own duties.

Your sweaty palm pushes against the massive heavy metal doors, the sound of creaking so loud against silent hallways it made your ears ring just a bit. The sight within was something you didn’t expect at all.

Empty, not a soul.

The gallery, the Throne and bleachers. Not a person here to watch you catch an earful from the King.

No one at all but one maid crouched by the statue of Jaehereys, scrubbing away with a sudded cloth.

“Where is everyone?”

She looked up, confused for a moment and then meekly replied.

“The Godswood, milady.”

You hummed, turning to the Throne once more before heading to the west doors.

You thought of all the reason’s as to why the entire court would have gathered in the Goswood, you wondered if Alicent was with child again. It couldn’t be though, when you left she had just announced the quickening of Haelena, it was too soon for her to be with child again.

Perhaps a marriage? Rhaenyra?

You prayed not, you had just returned. You didn’t think yourself capable to feel the burn of jealousy but you did, you imagined whatever lord hoped to wed her and then you imagined something untoward happening to him.

You stopped by the wooden doors, you could hear the bustle of the people in the gardens, the smell of meats and perfumes tickled at your nose.

The guards stood by the door appeared confused by the sight of you, your dressing extravagant enough for you to be a noble but they couldn’t quite place which one. You looked between the both of them as the hunched closer, whispering amongst themselves to place your identity.

“Princess Rhaenys?” One whispered.

“Does she look old to you?”

“It is the Princess of Dorne, now if you may.”

You flinched at the abrupt voice behind you, you turned to find Lord Strong looking down at you.

“Princess.” He greeted “We were not expecting you until tomorrow.”

“The winds were in our favour, I’m afraid.” You explained, smiling at the gentle favour of his hand.

The wooden doors opened as you were greeted to the blossoms of the gardens, many of which now thrived and grew from your efforts over the years.

Then it dawns the reason as to why the court had gathered, two heads of very prominent silver hair stood in the crowd.

You were frozen looking at them and everyone else was frozen looking at you.

In the surprise of it all, Alicent approached you first.

You in all regality, bowed on her approach. “My Queen.”

“Y/N!” She gushed, patting your shoulder as a formality when you’d rather embrace her. The warmth of her palm easing your nerves just a bit. You were home for now.

Daemon froze solid to the ground for a moment, a gentle tilt to his head as he registered who stood a couple feet from him. There were many stale bets he would have placed in his lifetime but he saw this coming from so far away.

Even as a little boy learning to spar over the summer and watching his cousin Rhaenys grow wisps of Targaryen silver with the black of her Baratheon head.

When he looked down at his niece, she shared the confusion he had— her head too finding answers to whatever this creature stood in front of them was.

The truth was in the blood, the magic that people sing about stood in person.

By the gods

The blue gowns changed for a soft summery pink, and the cut of that neckline— torture. So much to see but nothing at all.

You turned their way, eyes fixated on Rhaenyra for a moment and then around her before you turned to greet the rest of the Small Council members.

There was commandment, a tantalizing graze to how the shimmery fabric moved as you did.

It wouldn’t be appropriate, Rhaenyra knew it but her impatience grew as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

A year and a half— too long, too fucking long.

She was waiting to hear every footstep coming her way, from the jangles of your payal. The sway of your skirts coming to a stop a foot away from her and Daemon.

“My Princess,” you acknowledged “My Prince.”

There stood a moment of awkward silence between you and Rhaenyra until you turned to Daemon.

“I must congratulate you for your valiant victory in the Stepstone, cousin. One can only hope the poets sing about it till the end of time.” You smile at him.

That’s when he sees them, twinkling against the soft glow of the sun, the purple hiding behind the brown of your eyes. He never could place it, even as he fucked false silver haired whores in brothels, the image of Targaryen seed trampling the viper blood in your veins gave him so much joy.

Rhaenyra still remains silent, pulling the strings in her head to conjure up words.

In the Common Tongue, in Valyrian— just speak please!

Viserys however interjects, Alicent following behind him “What joy, my family; whole again!” He smiles with his teeth barred.

The smile persists cheek to cheek as he looks at Alicent, then to his brother and then you. Though as her turns to Rhaenyra, his eyes fall to disappointment. Reminding Rhaenyra yet again of how much trouble she was in.

Alicent with much grace however, shifted the conversation.

“Perhaps Prince Daemon would like a tour to the tapestries gifted to you by Novos and Qohor?” an innocent suggestion.

Viserys’s face scrunches for a moment as he slaps his hand around Daemon’s shoulder.

“Tell me, would you like to see the tapestries?” He breaks in to an ugly cackle.

Daemon, though oftentimes expected to be the one devoid any manner contains himself for the sake of his young sister by law. He hated her father, not her.

“Well I, would love to see them.” Rhaenyra sheepishly chimes in.

“Well then you should not deprive yourself, daughter.”

The curt sting could be felt from a mile away as she hangs her head in defeat.

“I would love to see them, care to escort me cousin?” You turn to Rhaenyra, smiling at her with an arm extended.

The two of departed from the court, rigidly walking hand in hand to the galleries. She couldn’t say anything out fear that you were still angry at her and her uneasiness amused you.

When the doors to the Grand Gallery finally closed she turned on her heel hastily.

“Forgive me, everything I said. I take it back.”

You looked up at her, this time tilting your head to the side, eyes purposefully stern. You held her hand and began pulling her to the closest wall and pushing her against it.

“I’m sorry.” She repeats.

“Shush.”

You pressed your lips against hers, taking her aback as you grab at the cotton fabric around her waist as you pulled her closer.

She hums, relishing the taste of your lips before finding her footing and turning you around— pressed up against the very lovely tapestry sent by Essosi envoys.

Only painted eyes in witness as you took your liberties with your lover.

“A dozen chambers,” a sing song voice tore the two of you out of your trance.

A deep pit of fear flutters in your belly as you pull yourself away from Rhaenyra.

“Haven’t I taught you better?”

Daemon stood at the door with his palm questioningly pointed at the two of you. His mind found a new source of amusement and by the gods he was going to enjoy toying this time.

THE NEXT CHAPTER IS SMUTTTTTTT. Lemme know if you wanna be on the taglist.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

[midnightstar-90]

Fanfic Suggestions

This is a masterlist of all the fanfics that I have read and give a "10/10 Would Read Again" Rating. I love these writer's works, and I believe they deserve the recognition. They inspire me and my writing, and I am truly thankful for that.

I am incorporating both Tumblr and Wattpad Fanfics. If it has a user, it's a Tumblr writing, and no user is a Wattpad writing.

Hope y'all enjoy ❤️

🔥- 18+/Mature | ☔- Sad

Scream

Lovers Lane (C.M.M) 🔥

@msgorillagripcoochie's About You Fic (C.M.M)

@n-slayaaaaa's Calls I Can't Make Fic 1 2 3 (E.L) | (C.M.M) 🔥

DC Comics

Knight Wolf and Little Robin (J.T)

Lost Cause (J.T)

Control (C.K)

@tinkerbelle05's Maybe We'll Get Through This (J.R)

@asonofpeter's Where You Go Masterlist (J.R)🔥

@oneshots-heaven's The Motel Room Masterlist (D.G)

Vampire Diaries | Originals | Legacies

The Original Daughter (E.M)

Cursed Witch (K.M) 🔥

Damon's Daughter (D.S)

Avatar

@avatarkv

@cryinginthemoonpool's A Forgotten Birthday ☔ (Sully Family)

Harry Potter

Infinity (F.W) 🔥

Evermore (S.S) 🔥

Endgame (S.S) 🔥

Stranger Things

Ho Hey (E.M)

Julie & The Phantoms

Somethin Stupid (R.P)

Boy Meets World

Capsize (S.H)

Oscar Issac + Characters

@melodygatesauthor (O.I)

@sweetly-yours-and-mine (O.I)

@bastardmandennis's Pretty When You Cry (J.L) 🔥

@ivystoryweaver's With You Masterlist (Moon Knight System)

@mooooonnnzz's Miguel O'hara & Daughter Action 1, 2, 3, 4 (M.O)

Moondust (Moon Knight System)

@m00nsbaby's Why Won't You Love Me? (Moon Knight System)☔

@lockleysfav's Haze (M.O)🔥

@januaryembrs's Last Knight In SOHO Masterlist (Moon Knight System)🔥

@bastardmandennis's Even If It's A False God (M.S)🔥

@ohmystaxk's Goodbye, My Dear Stranger Masterlist (Moon Knight System)🔥

@alwritey-aphrodite's I'll Be Back Again To Stay Masterlist (S.G)🔥

Marvel

Pistol (H.B)

Freaks | Runaways | Heroes | Humans (P.M)

@anonymousewrites's Portal To My Heart Masterlist (L.L)

Shadow & Bone

Stain of Red (The Darkling)

@midnightlilium's Reborn Masterlist (The Darkling) 🔥☔ * Not as explicit as other content on this app*

@kasagia's I'll Be Back For You Fic 1 2 (The Darkling) | (K.B)

@moonlightgrisha's Moon Summoner Masterlist (The Darkling)

Actors

@yawneneteyam's All Things Connected Masterlist (J.F)

@babybluebex's Bad Idea, Right? (J.Q) 🔥

IT

@anxiouslymalicious's Losers Club Plus One Masterlist (R.T)

New Girl

A Summer's Day (N.M) 🔥

Bridgerton

@bosbas's Love In Bloom Masterlist (B.B)

@nikkisheep's To Be Alone With You series (A.B) 🔥 1 2 3

@bellatrixscurls's Arranged Marriage (A.B) 🔥

@bellatrixscurls's Exquisite Weather Today, No? (A.B) 🔥1

@fayes-fics's A Beneficial Arrangement (A.B) 🔥

@marwritesgood's Illicit Affairs (A.B) 🔥

@dreamwritesimagines's Enamored Masterlist (A.B)

The Second Born Bridgerton & The Second Born Bridgerton's Wife (B.B)

@homeofthepeculiar's I Know You So Well Masterlist (B.B)🔥

Criminal Minds

@dr-spencer-reids-queen's Criminal Minds Series Rewrite Masterlist (S.R)

@fortheloveofwonderland's Me & You & Everyone We Know - Masterlist (S.R)🔥

Jensen Ackles + Characters

@zepskies's Take Me Home Masterlist (B.A)

@zepskies's Masterlist (Jensen + Characters)

@luci-in-trenchcoats's Home Sweet Not Home (J.A)

@lamentationsofalonelypotato's You Call It Madness But I Call It Love Masterlist (S.B)

@anundyingfidelity's Blood, Sweat, & Tears (B.B/S.B)🔥

@syrma-sensei's Hush Hush Behind The Shield (S.B)🔥

@anundyingfidelity's I'm A Ruin 1, 2, 3 (S.B)🔥

@wayward-dreamer's Pillow Talk (S.B)🔥

@princessmisery666's Please Don't Leave (J.A)

The Rookie

@xxchumanixx's Rookie Masterlist (T.B/J.N)

@chiefdirector's Rookie Masterlist (T.B/Chenford)

@fluentmoviequoter's Rookie Masterlist (T.B)

Percy Jackson Series

@woodlandwrites's Mind Over Matter (L.C)

[arcadiafm]

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄  𝐓𝐎  𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐀, morgan stark, pepper potts, sue storm, silas hardy-stark, whitney frost, levi wayne!  the  face  claim  of  sadie sink, salma hayek, reiky de valk, anne hathaway, madchen amick, ryder mclaughlin are  now  taken.  you  have  24  hours  to  join  the  discord  [ from the pinned post ]  or  your  role(s)  will  be  reopened.  check  out  the  ooc intro + about channels!

⟨ sadie sink. non-binary. they/them, she/her is ok. 20. ⟩ LOADING FILES … did you know PEPPER POTTS & TONY STARK'S child’s name is MORGAN H. STARK ?! i’ve seen them around town listening to NOTHING NEW by TAYLOR SWIFT, FEAT. PHOEBE BRIDGERS ! they seem to be quite clever, but also quiet, but it makes sense given they are a UNEMPLOYED / UNDERGRAD STUDENT at ARCADIA UNIVERSITY. i’d watch out for them, though, official files say they’re a HUMAN skilled in GENIUS LEVEL IQ, COMPUTER ENGINEERING, GRAPHIC DESIGN, CODING, LIP READING, BOXING. no surprise there !

⟨ salma hayek. cis female. she/her. 50+. ⟩ LOADING FILES … did you know INVISIBLE WOMAN real name is SUE STORM ?! i’ve seen them around town listening to TITANIUM by DAVID GUETTA ! they seem to be quite RESPONSIBLE, but also STUBBORN, but it makes sense given they are the LEADER OF THE FANTASTIC FOUR . i’d watch out for them, though, official files say they’re a OMEGA LEVEL MUTANT skilled in INVISABILITY, FORCE FIELDS, COSMIC RAY AWARENESS. no surprise there ! ⟨ cassie. ⟩

⟨ reiky de valk. demi man. he/they. 26. ⟩ LOADING FILES … did you know TONY STARK & FELICIA HARDY’s (adopted) child’s name is SILAS AUGUST HARDY-STARK ?! i’ve seen them around town listening to BROKEN CROWN by MUMFORD & SONS ! they seem to be quite astute, but also stoic, but it makes sense given they are a DRUMMER & BARTENDER. i’d watch out for them, though, official files say they’re a HUMAN skilled in GENIUS LEVEL INTELLECT, ENGINEERING, MARTIAL ARTS & DRUMMING. no surprise there ! ⟨ thea. ⟩

⟨ anne hathaway. cis female. she/her. 40+. ⟩ LOADING FILES … did you know MADAME MASQUE real name is GIULIETTA NEFARIA aka WHITNEY FROST ?! i’ve seen them around town listening to OBSESSED WITH YOU by THE ORION EXPERIENCE ! they seem to be quite DEDICATED, but also UNHINGED, but it makes sense given they are the LEADER THE MAGGIA + BLACK MARKET . i’d watch out for them, though, official files say they’re a HUMAN skilled in EXPERT MARKSMAN, DISGUISES, CLONING ABILITIES, TELEPATHIC RESISTANCE, ATTUNED TO MAGIC . no surprise there ! ⟨ ROOK. ⟩

⟨ madchen amick. cis woman. she/her . fifty ⟩ LOADING FILES … did you know RESCUE’S real name is VIRGINIA 'PEPPER' POTTS ?! i’ve seen them around town listening to JOAN OF ARC by LITTLE MIX ! they seem to be quite level headed, but also closed minded, but it makes sense given they are a CEO at STARK INDUSTRIES. i’d watch out for them, though, official files say they’re a ENHANCHED HUMAN skilled in R.T NODE ENHANCEMENT. no surprise there ! ⟨ naomi ⟩

⟨ ryder mclaughlin. genderfluid. any pronouns. 25. ⟩ LOADING FILES … did you know BRUCE WAYNE + NPC’S child’s name is FREDERICK OLIVER LEVI WAYNE ?! i’ve seen them around town listening to PYRAMIDS by FRANK OCEAN ! they seem to be quite SMART, but also APATHETIC, but it makes sense given they are a DRUG DEALER / BUSBOY at 5AM. i’d watch out for them, though, official files say they’re a HUMAN skilled in GIFTED INTELLECT, EIDETIC MEMORY, TALENTED ARTIST, TALENTED SKATEBOARDER, BASIC HAND TO HAND COMBAT, BASIC STEALTH. no surprise there ! ⟨ kami. ⟩

[itsjustxj-blog]

Reality TV: Perpetuation and Challenge of Stereotypes and Cultural Norms

Introduction

There is a complicated dynamic between reality television and preconceived notions and cultural conventions (Hill 2005). Some programmes can be used to challenge and subvert society's norms and prejudices, while others only serve to reinforce them. The effects of reality television on its viewers and society as a whole are discussed, along with the ways in which the genre both reinforces and subverts preconceived notions.

Types of Stereotypes

Gender Norms: Gender norms and stereotypes are often reinforced in popular reality shows. Men are typically presented as aggressive and dominant, while women are stereotyped as dramatic, emotional, and concerned with their beauty. The variety of characters and stories seen on screen may be constrained by the persistence of these preconceptions.

Racial and Ethnic Stereotypes: Many people feel that racial and ethnic stereotypes are reinforced through reality TV. Caricatures of contestants from minority groups often play on negative assumptions about those people's identities. This can further marginalised these populations by reinforcing negative assumptions and beliefs.

Body Image Stereotypes: The emphasis on physical appearance and narrow ideals of beauty on reality TV is nothing new. Those who fulfil conventional standards of beauty are generally praised, while those who don't are sometimes mocked or even excluded. This can have a negative effect on viewers' self-esteem and body image.

(Strauss 2018)

Challenge of Stereotypes and Cultural Norms

Subverting Expectations: Sometimes, reality shows shock audiences by defying accepted gender conventions. Male competitors may try their hand at traditionally female tasks, while female competitors may demonstrate brawn and confidence. These situations have the potential to challenge preconceived notions and make viewers rethink accepted conventions.

Social Issues and Advocacy: Reality television has served as a forum for discussing and advancing important societal causes. Shows that explore controversial subjects like LGBTQ+ rights, mental health, and racial equality can help viewers think critically about these issues and encourage meaningful dialogue.

Representation and Diversity: By including a wide range of competitors from different origins, nationalities, and sexual orientations, some reality TV shows aim to challenge preconceptions and encourage diversity. The performances can challenge stereotypes and promote acceptance by showcasing people who don't fit the norm. 

(Ariani 2013)

Viewer Impact and Responsibility

Reality TV viewers have a significant impact on whether or not the genre reinforces stereotypes and societal standards. Viewers should actively think about the stuff they take in and consider how it might affect their worldview. Reality TV viewers can contribute to a more nuanced knowledge and good change if they actively examine and discuss the portrayal of stereotypes and cultural norms on the show (Hill 2005).

References

Ariani, R.T., 2013. Gender stereotypes and reinforcement of patriarchy in the reality show Pilih-Pilih Mantu. Allusion, 2(1), pp.53-60.

Hill, A., 2005. Reality TV: Audiences and popular factual television. Psychology Press.

Strauss, P.S., 2018. Scripted stereotypes in reality TV.

[balloontrash]

Dead to me || R.T (Pt.3)

noteA/N: Okay so apparently I’m super shitty. It’s been over a year since I updated, but quarantineeeee is making me want to actually write again. So here’s part 3

summary: guess what? MORE ANGST AND MISCOMMUNICATION. y/n and Richie had a falling out and now y/n has to fix it for the both of their sakes. 

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex but not smut nor is it described at all. angst. Sad and angry Richie. 

part 1 part 2 part 4 Part 5 (Finale)

~~~

“Fix it? Fix it? How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” Y/n thought to herself as she walked home from Bill’s house. It was around 10pm. The streets were dark and empty. She felt like the weight of the sky was going to collapse and drown her. A part of her wanted it to; It would make all of this a whole lot easier. 

As she stepped into the light of another lamp post, she remembered walking this same street home with Richie. She hadn’t been down this street in a long time. It hurt her, remembering how he’d do whatever he could to make her laugh. He’d hook her arm in his and try to get her to skip the rest of the way with him. 

“It’s embarassing, Richie. No,” Y/n would groan and try to pull her arm away. 

“Oh come on! it’s the middle of the night. Everyones lights are off. THE STREETS ARE OURS!” He’d yell the end into the sky, his arms stretched out. 

“KNOCK IT OFF!” A mans voice came out of no where. It sounded like it came from one of the houses. Richie flinched, suddenly looking around. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Okay maybe its ours and that guy’s,” Richie leaned into her and said in a quiet town. Y/n laughed again. Richie rehooked his arm with hers and didn’t let go for the rest of the walk. 

Y/n missed that: how easy it was to be physically comfortable with eachother. Now, they couldn’t even look at eachother. “It’s my fault,” She heard herself say out loud. “It’s my fault and now I’ve lost him.” she put her hands on her face and grunted. She ran her hands through her hair and looked around her, up at the houses. 

She hadn’t realized she was standing right in front of Richies house. She stiffened when she recognized it, almost scanning it for any sign of danger. She thought it was better to keep walking, afraid he’d see her, but when she went to continue to walk, an unrecognizable car was parked blocking her way. There wasn’t anyone in it. It certainly wasn’t Richie’s parents, and it didn’t look like his. 

Suddenly, movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She looked up to see Richie’s room light was open. His silhouette was easily recognizable, except it looked like he didn’t have a shirt on, or any clothes for that matter. It didn’t take long for Y/n to process what his movements meant. She knew who the car belonged to and she wanted to disappear. Her stomach turned; if she was going to stand here any longer she was going to vomit. 

~~~~

“He was fucking his girlfriend, Bev. How many times do I have to tell you? I know what I saw.” Y/n’s head was in her hands. She and Bev were sitting at a table in the lunch room. She was catching Beverly up on the event’s of last night. 

“I just-- maybe you miss interpreted it. He could have been moving some furniture around,” She replied. Y/n rolled her eyes and shook her head. Stan appears with a lunch tray and sits next to Bev. Mike, Bill, and Eddie followed short after. Mike moves his tray so its between both him and Y/n. She picks a few fries off his plate. It was weird being back with her friends. She still didn’t feel like she deserved it. 

“At least he finally fucked someone,” Stan mumbles. “He doesn’t have to lie about having experience anymore.” 

Y/n zoned out of the conversation as she noticed Richie walk into the lunch room. He walked with hands were stuffed into his pockets. Even from far away, Y/n could see how sunken in his eyes had become. “They weren’t like that yesterday,” Y/n thought to herself. She furrowed her eyebrows as she noticed he wasn’t walking with his girlfriend like he usually did. He wasn’t with anyone for that matter. 

He walked inbetween the tables slowly, looking in front of him. Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off of him and he noticed. Just as he was about to pass their table, his eyes shifted from in front of him to Y/n. Their eyes locked, taking y/n by surprise. Almost instantly, Richie’s gaze turns sharp as he glares at her. Y/n absorded the venom, looking down at the tray in front of her. 

What she didn’t see,but the Losers noticed, was how he also walked passed his new table of friends and exited out of back door of the lunch room. 

Tag list: @taestheticwonnie​ @elhopqer​ @caitlin-la​ @whoseblogsthis​ @notebooks-of-nonsense​ @little-saccharine​ @pastel-rose-water​ @screechinglawyer @wheezy-kasp-brak

[80s-roger]

a night to remember 1.2 - r.t × f.m × ♀️reader

summary: you’ve been dating Roger for a couple of years, everything’s wonderful, including your sex life which is amazing but you were feeling a gap at it. maybe because you always had a crush on Freddie but his sexuality kept you away from dating him. however he’d never say no as a guest to yours and Roger’s bed.

portray: ‘84 | Freddie and Roger, female reader around her early 30s

warnings: MFM, DP, oral, protected sex, swearing

word count: 3,4k

masterlist

i don’t even know how did I come up with this, god forgive me, I just love Freddie and Roger one shots. make sure to provide yourself holy water after it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roger laid next to you exhausted after his hard roughs inside you. He was trying to catch his breath. You couldn’t deny that sex with his is amazing, it’s just that you needed something more. Something Roger wouldn’t agree with. Freddie joining you. As a few minutes passed, Roger found his tempo again asking you.

“How was it?”

“It was nice.” You answered.

“Just nice?” He was triggered.

“I mean it can be better.” You moved your shoulders staring at the void.

“I consumed my entire energy fucking you. How can it be better?” He asked, turning his entire body, facing you.

“It’s not enough actually.” You awkwardly said.

“Not enough? What do you mean?” He asked again confused.

“I mean I want more action.” You were too shy you wanted to have a threesome.

“Jesus Y/N, be more clear. I’m not a psychic.” He moved his hands frustrated.

“Fuck, I want a person to join us.” You finally said. His eyes were wide opened.

“What the fuck y/n.” he gasped. “Do you have any friend of yours to join us?” He referred to your friends, your girl friends. He’d obviously ask for a female partner. He hasn’t lost his fetishes. You raised your eyes irritated.

“You wished it was one of my friends. Actually, my darling, it’s a friend of yours.” You ironically said. He was shook.

“A female friend of mine?” he asked, thinking of any females. “You want Jess to join us? Have you seen her tits?” He eagerly said to you and jealousy appeared on your face.

“No Roger, I want Freddie to join us. Have you seen his dick?” You finally said the person, attacking your partner with his same words, just changing the name and the genitals instead of the muscles.

“No fucking way y/n, I’m not sharing you with my bandmate, let alone with a male.” He refused shaking his head and sitting his back on the bed.

“And why should I share you with a female if you’re not sharing me with Freddie?” You fixed your position and you started disagreeing.

“But why Freddie? Why a threesome actually? Aren’t you satisfied of me?” He shouted, feeling triggered. If a female isn’t sexually pleased by him, he gets really mad and tries to fix it later, the same way.

“I am Roger! I just want to get experienced on that type too. I want Freddie to join us! He wouldn’t say no!” You begged him. Roger rolled his eyes.

“I know he wouldn’t say no! It’s just so weird of you to say, but hey, I can’t just have him on bed. I can’t give my dick to a man, I fucking can’t! He freaked out, his sexuality was screaming.

“You won’t! I just want to try Freddie’s dick too.” Your tone got lower.

“You’re a dirty hoe, aren’t you?” He teased, coming closer to you. “You want two dicks inside you?” He asked surprised. “Isn’t mine enough?”

“Stop the tease! I just want Freddie to join us.” You looked at him.

“Fine, but in one condition.” He raised his pointing finger.

“You want a female the next time, don’t you?” I asked prepared.

“Yes. Say yes and I’m saying Freddie to come over tomorrow night.” He eagerly said.

“Fuck you, fine.” You exhaled. At least, you’d try out how’d it be like with another female. You were curious. That would be Roger’s dream come true, no doubt. He kissed your lips and turned side to finally rest his eyes and so did you. You were thinking how’d you be divided while being fucked by Roger and Freddie.

the other night

You were preparing yourself, making up yourself and dressing sexy with very few clothes on you. Roger would be home any moment with his band mate, Freddie. Freddie was surprised when he got this request. He didn’t bother having a threesome with you two. He liked you externally anyway.

flashback ten hours ago:

“You look a little nervous, Rog. Do you want to tell me something?” Fred asked the drummer while smoking his cigarette.

“You know, um, y/n…” He silently said.

“y/n what? Is she okay?” He worried.

“Yeah, of course. She just… um asked me something yesterday night after… You know.” He was so awkward trying to tell Freddie about your wish.

“Be more specific dear. What did she ask? I can help.” He smiled at Roger trying to make him feel more comfortable.

“This may sound weird to you but she wants a threesome. She wants you.” He finally said, with his arms placed on his waist.

“Fuck.” Freddie was shocked. “And she wants it for…?” He asked, accepting the suggestion.

“Tonight. Are you into it Fred? You know, you don’t have to do this. I personally don’t support her suggestion. She makes me feel like I don’t complete her sexually.” He confessed to his best pal.

“Darling, you know how beast-y my nights can be. A cute fluffy threesome with you and your girlfriend, wouldn’t hurt me.” He laughed. “And don’t ever say that you don’t complete her. You’re a good lay, this is what you are bro.” He encouraged him.

“I told her if it happens tonight, we’re doing it again with a female.” Roger arrogantly said.

“Classic Roger. You’re chasing that chance.” He laughed.

“So are you coming tonight?” He asked.

“Yes of course, count me in.” He nodded. “And um, how will the roles be like?” he asked.

“You’re definitely not touching me. She wants you to fuck her but I’m afraid I’m gonna be pretty competitive on it. I can’t handle it.” He said.

“I wouldn’t touch you Roger. What are you talking about. Alright, we’ll try to have her divided.” He laughed and Roger left out an awkward giggle.

End of flashback

Roger and Freddie were at the lift talking.

“Fred, I’m so uncomfortable with this.” he confessed to his friend. “I don’t like sharing her with men.”

“Darling, you told her the next time it’d be a female. How do you think she felt with that?” He asked.

“Uncomfortable?” He answered with a question mark.

“Exactly, she felt like she wasn’t enough for you.” Freddie was defending you.

“Alright but why didn’t she care about how I felt that moment? It’s not always her Fred!” He shouted moving his hands.

“Ladies first, remember?"He smiled and Roger turned his head annoyed. "Listen, I will focus on her, I wouldn’t do anything on you. She asked me, she’s having me.” he pressed his hand on Roger’s shoulder.

“And what will I do? Jerk off watching you two get along?” He angrily said.

“For fuck’s sake Roger, you know her turn ons, do what you always do, just let her feel me too.” He winked.

The lift’s doors opened and Roger inserted the keys at the door. He was nervous. He didn’t want you to be touched by another man, let alone his best pal, Fred. He knows you asked for it but it’s not something to easily agree with.

“Y/N?” He asked searching for your figure.

“Bedroom!” You yelled back. Roger and Freddie looked each other. Roger was neutral while Freddie was smiling.

“Someone’s in there asking for sex.” Freddie giggled.

“She’s begging for sex.” he replied and they both walked in the bedroom.

You were laying on your bed, wearing a black, up to the thigh, satin nighty and some hot lingerie inside it. Roger’s masculinity jumped out, looking at you from head to toe, getting already hard. Freddie’s eyes were wide opened. Watching a female body ready to be satisfied turned him on.

“Someone’s eager.” He looked at Roger, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from you.

“Hello boys.” You smiled at them and Freddie approached. “Hello Fred.” You smiled up at him, walking like a naughty girl to him, until the edge of the bed. You bit your lip and he raised his eyebrow.

“You’ve literally never walked on me this way before Y/N!” Roger whined while looking at you and Roger, ready to make out.

“How about you shut up and join us Rog?” You said back and Fred laid next to you, pressing his lips against yours. His hands travelled through your back, caressing it.

Roger couldn’t help seeing you being entirely touched by another man. He took off his leather jacket and his shirt beneath, and sat next to you. You were in the middle, in heaven.

“Alright Fred, you touched enough.” Roger’s jealousy was either a turn on or a turn off. There was no middle ground. You did love dominating Roger but you also loved having Freddie’s hands at you.

Roger’s hands, turned your face at him, you could see his jealousy in his eyes. You eagerly smiled and he passionately kissed you while Fred removed his shirt, staying shirtless. His big palms, went under your nighty, at your breasts area, squeezing them gently while his mouth was placed on your neck, leaving you gentle kisses. You were experiencing at the same time a passionate and hard Roger, with a gentle and soft Freddie. You wanted same level everywhere.

“Slow down Roger, you’re ruining it.” You whispered between the kiss you both shared.

“I feel like I am ruining your sex. You just want Freddie to fuck you.” You interrupted your kiss and so did Freddie. You were all looking at each other.

“I want him to fuck me. And I want to fuck you.” You eagerly said and they both looked each other with a positive vibe.

“Your girl needs some Mercury magic, let her have it dear.” He said to his friend and took off your nighty, leaving you on black lingerie. “You’re so sexy baby…” He said to you staring at your little-to-the-imagination fabrics.

Roger’s hands pressed your thighs, squeezing them like he always do. They laid you at the bed, where the pillows are placed. These two hot boys were standing in front of you, Freddie between your legs, kissing them inch by inch and Roger climbed next to you, taking your bra off without sudden moves. It all had to happen slowly. You had your breasts exposed to Fred and Rog but you felt comfortable around them. Roger was caressing them and began leaving kisses at that area. He sucks your nipples every time he has the chance to. He returned to your neck, leaving you soft kisses while your left hand was playing with his blonde hair and your right hand, at Freddie’s who played with your underpant, teasing you.

“Roger, look how much she wants it. She’s already soaked, her panties betrayed her.” He laughed rubbing your area without removing your panties yet.

“Freddie you’re such a tease.” You softly moaned while Rog left your side, going down there next to Freddie.

“Let’s take off her panties.” Roger looked at you, feeling your anticipation.

“Not yet. No wonder why both of you had sex the night you met.” He joked and you looked at Roger angrily. Roger told him about it. Of course he did.

Freddie was kissing your thighs and below your belly button. He was grabbing your panties pulling them up and down but without removing them. You really wanted one of them to eat you out right now.

“Fuck Freddie, just take them off.” You said with your face turned red.

“Someone’s impatient here.” Roger laughed, removing his black jeans and so did Freddie. They were taking their jeans off, staying only on their boxers. You could see their boner with the fabric on it. You were all so wet and hard.

“Imagine not wanting it Roger.” You teased him. He got the point. “Imagine not seeing me getting fucked by your friend.” You raised your eyebrow and so did he.

“Imagine not having my dick sucked by you.” He teased back and you smiled. He walked through the night stand grabbing two condoms.

“Here take one.” He offered one to Fred. “Take them off, impatient slut.” He said to you pointing at his black boxers. “I want you to wear this condom around my dick.” He demanded and you agreed.

He was standing on his knees at the edge of the bed. Your spread legs were exposed to Freddie, waiting for him to finally take them off. But you know how impatient Roger can get when it comes on sucking his penis so you had to play with your rules.

“I’m not sucking your erected dick until that bad boy sucks my pussy.” You eagerly said, squeezing his penis without taking off his remaining fabric.

“Fuck.” He murmured inside his lips. Freddie looked at him.

“Can you handle a little tease Rog?” He asked.

“Have you ever had your cock sucked by Y/N? I don’t think so. You better take these panties off.” Roger impatiently said and Freddie finally removed your panties.

“You’re such a bad girl Y/N, you think you’re the one who gives orders tonight?” Freddie asked, rubbing your clit with his thumb. You closed your eyes in pleasure.

“I give orders tonight Fred.” You said back and took Roger’s panties off. His dick was standing still, almost at his stomach area. You teared the condom’s package off and placed it around Roger’s grease gun. You gave a fast lick over his prepuce.

“Oh my God, fuck.” He moaned. “Suck it baby.” He closed his eyes with his head high.

Meanwhile Freddie, began sucking your wet pussy. His experienced tongue, made slow licking circles around your small lips and your clit.

“You’re such a dirty slut, you don’t deserve to be gently treated. You can’t play with testosterone.” Freddie winked at you but the pleasure waves, made you insert Roger’s length inside your mouth, reaching your throat. Roger’s hands, pressed your head against his cock, moaning and swearing.

“Fucking hell Y/N, take it all inside your slutty mouth.” He loudly said, making eye contact with you. You were on the edge of choking. The gulping sound made Freddie and Roger cum before the actual time. You removed his dick from your mouth, licking it, clearing it from your saliva spits. You grabbed his dick on your hand, jerking him off.

“I’m gonna cum babe.” He loudly moaned.

“I don’t care.” You said, sucking his dick again. “You can get another orgasm again when you see Freddie fucking my pussy.” You eagerly said, jerking him fastly. You were torturing him.

“Holy fuck!” He loudly said cumming. You smiled at him and suddenly moaned when Freddie inserted two fingers inside you. Roger was distracted, watching two fingers and a tongue fucking you.

“Jesus, Fred!” You moaned. Roger bit his lip, going next to Freddie, rubbing your clit with fast moves. He kind of revenged you for making him cum, before fucking your brains out.

“Make that slut cum.” Roger said to Freddie when he was moving his fingers inside you until some white liquids came out from your pink area. Roger gave you a few licks.

“You’re a creampie, darling, aren’t you?” Freddie sweetly asked, sucking them.

“Of course she is.” Roger looked at you eager.

“Shit Fred…” You moaned with your eyes closed.

“I am sure you can handle another deepthroat, can’t you?” Freddie asked removing his panties.

“She can handle a lot, right baby?” Roger looked at you being a mess. He enjoyed torturing you. You could clearly read his thoughts: you wanted a threesome, this is how it’s going to be.

“Roger you’re ruining everything!” You groaned at him.

“I know. Include your thirsty pussy.” He winked and grabbed your legs around his waist.

“Damn Roger, carefully.” Freddie said, while wearing his condom.

“Trust me, she likes it. She’s just arrogant, right baby?” He smiled at you. His hands rubbed your sensitive clit. You automatically shook your legs but Rog immobilized them by holding them. “Freddie, hold her hands.” Roger said to Freddie and there he was, above you, holding your hands so you wouldn’t move. He kissed your neck and your lips. You were sweating already. “I know you love fucking you with your legs around my waist. You like it when I take control.” He said and looked at you.

“Just start, stop giving me that look!” You said to him, when he was shaking his penis before entering inside you.

“What look?” He teased.

“The look of wanting me to hit you.” You aggressively said. “Fred, do something!” You said at your other partner.

“Darling, he said we’d share you. He didn’t agree with the idea though.” He smiled down at you.

“He doesn’t seem to be annoyed at the view of me being held by you while he’s ready to fuck me, does he?” You asked looking at Fred.

“No, I like the view.” He laid on top of you, when his thrusts began. They were smooth and slow at first, but seconds later they got fast and hard. “If you weren’t that wet, I wouldn’t move so fast baby.” He moaned at your ear. He stood back again, watching your entire body bouncing at his thrusts. “Suck her tits Fred.” He said to his friend and Freddie grabbed them and sucked them hard. You loved the feeling. You could tell how experienced they both were on bed. “Do you want to cum?” He asked and rubbed your clit.

“Yes!” You loudly moaned.

“No! Not yet.” He took his penis off you, standing next to you, watching you rubbing your clit.

“You wished darling.” Freddie said giving another kiss to your lips and taking your hand away from your clit. You wanted him to fuck you. “First you’re going to suck my cock.” He winked at you. You looked at Roger.

“Don’t look at me. Do what he says. I will watch.” He had his dick in his palm, moving it slowly up and down.

Freddie laid at the bed watching you putting his dick inside your mouth. Roger’s view was your side body. He was so horny at that moment, he’d go for round three. Freddie smacked your butt cheeks, leaving hand marks. “Suck my cock darling, you do have the skills.” He eagerly said to you when your head was moving up and down, until the base.

“She’s a good girl. Let her finish.” Roger said, pleased on the view.

“She really is a good girl, now we’ll let her cum.” He helped you sit on top of him, so you’d ride him. “So your boyfriend is gonna watch you getting fucked by me?” He asked.

“Yeah…” You whispered out of your breaths and turned your gaze on Roger.

“You wished.” Roger eagerly said, laid on bed. You looked at Freddie. “You won’t ride me baby, turn over. Lay on top of Roger.” Freddie said to you and put you in all four. Where they really wanted to fuck you at the same time?

“You do have two holes we want to take advantage of.” Roger smiled up at you, with a winning smile. He kissed you. “Freddie, don’t you dear touching my dick.” Roger sarcastically warned Fred and he rolled his eyes.

“Fuck, this is going to hurt.” You whispered down at your boyfriend.

“You wanted a threesome.” He moved your hair at your back, uncovering your face.

He put his dick inside your pussy, moving slowly, his hands caressing your waist. Freddie was right behind you, placing his dick at your ass. “Fuck!” You shouted. “Quiet, dear, I’m trying to make it less hurtful.” He gave your butt a little spank.

By the time it was good, you didn’t hurt. You had two dicks inside you, filling you up entirely.

“You look like you’re about to cum. I know this face.” Roger teased you. “Cum baby.” He kissed your neck until you closed your eyes, leaving yourself endure to the pleasure tsunami.

“Cum now darling!” Freddie said, removing his dick from your asshole.

“Holy fuck!” You shouted and finally laid in the middle of these two hot men.

You needed a moment to catch your normal breath. You were all silent at the moment. Until Freddie broke it when he enlightened his cigarette.

“That was amazing girl.” He said to you.

“Indeed. Thank you for accepting the offer.” You laughed and Roger groaned. “Still not satisfied?” You asked down at him.

“Girl next time.” He demanded and grabbed a cigarette from his night stand.

“Jesus, fine.” You groaned.

Freddie was wearing his clothes after smoking. You wore your tiny robe, following him to the main door.

“Thank you for letting me have a good time.” You smiled at him. “I wanted it for a long time.” You giggled.

“Well, just give me a call.” He made the phone gesture with his fingers and kissed your cheek before leaving.

“Tell me he’s gone!” He shouted from the bedroom.

You walked back at the bedroom, Roger covered his penis with the sheet. He looked at you staring him unsatisfied. “ What?” He asked.

“You’re a mobile grumpy man.” You said laying next to him. “You didn’t even let me enjoy it.”

“I don’t like other men touching you. How much clear can I make it?” He asked, placing the cigarette at the other side. “I barely wanted to do it.”

“But you did it because you love me.” You caressed his chest. “And Freddie is mostly attracted to men so nothing’s going to happen between him and me.” You reassured him.

“I am so embarrassed to look at him tomorrow.” He covered his eyes.

“He won’t be embarrassed though, you did a thing friends don’t do. Fuck the other’s girlfriend. Together. Not separately.” You teased him and he looked at you shocked.

“I think you need a little punishment. Maybe the last round wasn’t good enough for you.” He laid on top of you, ready to give you another shot.

[uncannychange]

New innovative super tech company Rehabilitation Transmogrification Inc., whose motto is “A new you means a new life,” was ready to set the world on fire with their cutting edge technology designed to modify the human body making people taller, thinner, younger and much much more not in months but in days really needed something to get them in the news and trending on social media.

So when American Russian mobster, alleged nothing proven! Maximilian “Max the Beast” Kotov volunteered for their still untested “A New Body Makes a New You” extreme makeover tests they jumped at the chance.

The results of the process turned out to be even more extreme than R.T. Inc anticipated.

Despite things taking a wild turn in excess of what they had been attempting Max took it with amazing calm for such an otherwise blunt and hyper-masculine… businessman.

However, Max did insist on and got a sizable chunk of the new companies stock, becoming if not the owner certainly a powerful silent partner.

“I’m sure we at Rehabilitation Transmogrification Inc is going to change the world!” was the only statement that the new Maxine Kotov made before disappearing from public view for months.

Above is a shot of the seldom seen Maxie Kotov coming back from attending a spate of family funerals in the, let us repeat alleged, Kotov crime organization.

After that, it seems she became even more low profile with nothing heard from her save for one instance where on returning from a visit to Russia she was detained at the airport for a hidden dagger in one of her boots. “It’s a gift… an antique… yeah... for someone I know.” said Maxine somehow managing to get away with only a fine, after which she slipped back into anonymity.*

* Oh who’s kidding who?!? To keep this from getting too long the big reveal is that Maxine “The Kitten” Kotov is still mobbed up, but the R.T. Inc the process has changed her, now not so much into murder (except where she just HAS to) but instead taking rivals to Rehabilitation Transmogrification Inc where they are turned into girls who, after extensive disciple and retraining, work for her as “hostesses” in her string of clubs called The Kitten Cove.

[5558rosatorresospino]

My concept of /culture/

For me, culture is what defines us as people from a certain region of the planet, for example, we can talk about latin culture or, more specifically, we can talk about colombian culture and what it implies being colombian; culture is the characteristics and knowledge that is passed from generation to generation about the language, community, religion, cuisine, music and art of where we came from.

We can see our culture expressed when we sit at the table, also in what we wear and how we speak, how we behave with friends, family and our loved ones. But one thing is for sure, culture changes, culture evolves throughout the years still maintaining what makes it special and different from others.

R.T.

[zackcollins]

Canadian Icon || TOR vs MTL || 10/12/22 || For: @whimsical-daydreams​

[themotherofblood]

Prologue . 2 | RIVER OF FIRE | The Heir | D.T x READER x R.T

series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 1

tw: child birth, death.

a/n: thank you to @inlovewithhisblueeyes for beta reading this!!

~ will we ever learn, we’ve been here before. it’s just what we know ~

“I refuse, I refuse to have a child, ever. No lord husbands nor knights shall put a babe in me. She is gone, just as my mother did. Septa Marlow went on about what a joyous thing it was to be with child. She is a septa, what the hell does she know about having a child? What joy! death by childbirth. Though I suppose Viserys had his son for mere moments, Rhaenyra is torn. Asleep in my bed after Maester Mellos gave her tea with Nightshade. I sang to her, the very song Aemma did to me. She is gone, I just don’t believe it yet.

“If I give you this, you promise you’ll win?” you raised your hand to show Daemon the crown you were weaving. Made of blue crystal hibiscuses, mint leaves and gold threads. Already dressed in yet another blue gown and hair braided into a neat crown to match Rhaenyra; you sat making your favours instead of worrying for Aemma. You and Rhaenyra wanted to be with her, but it wasn’t proper nor was it a comely place for young girls to be. 

Instead Viserys had Daemon steer away the two of you to make your favours for the Heir’s tourney, he had been particularly worried. Now with a boy likely on the way, Daemon would have to find another damned position at court to remain at King’s Landing rather than return to his lady wife in the Vale. So sitting here with young - impressionable princesses and watching them prattle on about fabrics and knights at court was a far better outcome than Daemon had hoped for. “Is that a deal you wish to make? A victory for a crown of- blue flowers?” he folded his legs together to sit on the carpet with you. Watching as your fingers worked the threads to lace the crown together. “What if I had hoped for another lady’s favour?” 

You looked at him, offended and lips parted as you clutched your crown. “I- should have you-“ your frown deepened “I have made this, by hand, with my gold threads. From Lys!” you said, jutting out word after word “it has blue hibiscuses, not roses like all the other ladies you wish to woo have,” Daemon raised his palms in surrender, already feeling the warmth of aggravation bubbling from being barred from visiting Aemma before her labours began. 

“You get the champion's purse, you help me buy a dagger,” you lowered your voice to relay your plan of sheer mastery to Daemon.  

“What use do you have for a dagger,” he whispered back,  equal parts amused and confused. He couldn’t picture something so small and dear wielding a blade - to what? Use as decoration? “am I to be an accomplice for homicide- princess I am the Lord Commander of the City Watch,” 

“And you are Daemon, perhaps it is you I shall stab first,” you scowled at him once more before pulling yourself up to answer the knock at your door.

Rhaenyra returned from her chambers, dressed in a red gown and hair done like yours with her favour of red calla lilies, “Why is she scowling?” Rhaenyra asked her uncle, fully aware that Daemon might have found another quirk to tease out of you. Nyra, having been the witness of many such rage-fuelled rants, looked at you confused as you stood with your hands on your hips and cheeks full. 

“She plans a homicide, niece,” Daemon coughed to hold in his chuckle. The twitch in your eye made him highly aware of the many objects to your reach that you could hurl at him. “Who is your victim, sweetling? Marsha Tarly?”

“What-?” Rhaenyra looks between her uncle and you, she wouldn’t put you in the category of homicidal people but she wouldn’t put it past your defensive nature. 

“I just want a dagger, and now I’m being framed a murder by your- sweet uncle,” you hurled your doll at Daemon. “You should worry about winning the tourney first? We have a deal?” you motioned to the doors of your bedchamber. Daemon chuckled one more, placing the doll on his lap on the chaise before taking his leave. 

“Is it so odd that a girl must want a dagger?” you turned to Rhaenyra, exasperated at Daemon's teasing, “merely want one, that’s all.”   Your lips pouted as you reached up to kiss Rhaenyra on the lips. A quick peck that she entertained and returned.

“How are you, truly?” you asked her, the goosebumps of anxiety still littering her skin as she worried for her mother. 

“It will be Visenya, I know it.” she replied, pulling you down to sit with her on the chaise. Her blonde brows furrowed to a line and you wished to soothe away whatever discomfort she was feeling. . Albeit, she would never show it on her face. You embrace her tightly and let your head rest in  the crook on her neck. The only way you could show her that you would be here, you would be with her always. 

“Should we head to the tourney  grounds? Let your  people set their eyes upon the Realm’s Delight?” you kissed her cheek as she blushed, and swatted your shoulder at the mention of her title. You knew she loved it even if she pretended not to. 

“We should give you a title too,” Rhaenyra said as she pulled you up, “Oh let’s see, how about….Pain In My Arse.” She  giggled as she watched  your  curious smile turn to yet another scowl before  you shoved her back. 

“Rhaenyra,” you whined, sensing as if she had joined in her uncle’s torment of you, “Must you poke me too?” 

“Ah, forgive me duck,” she held your face to press a kiss on your nose before dragging you out of your bedchambers. 

The festivities  had already begun as the muffled announcements of Viserys echoed from the balcony. The two of you hiked your skirts up and sprinted to race to make it to your seats first. Rhaenyra kissed her father’s cheek as you smiled at him before taking your seats. Plenty of nobles filled every seat in the Game Grounds, all the houses you were forced to remember with their sigils and words. Baratheons fought Tarlys while low-born knights fought nobility with one in particular standing out, Ser Criston Cole.

The man, unhorsing man after man  as his opponents tested his mettle. Rhaenyra looked curious for this could be another knight for the two to fawn over. You had situated yourself in between and Alicent as you chatted about courtly gossip yet again. Men fought and fell and all you could think of were the poor horses being harmed by the jousting. You would rather they participate in a Contest of Arms. 

The knights lined up once more to present themselves on the whims of the Prince of the City. Daemon rode in on his black stallion that Rhaenyra had named Alastor for him for he was tall and dark. Had he not been so particularly annoying at times, your childish heart might have fluttered at the thought of him. However, he  was far from the gentile knights in your books, a knight surely - aye, an arrogant but pretty one. 

“The Prince cannot be allowed to act with such unchecked impunity,”

Impunity my arse

The Maester had timed Aemma’s labours perfectly to the week of the Heir’s Tourney. Daemon worried for his good sister though the fallout of mourning he couldn't handle. He had occasionally wondered if he were to have another dead niece or nephew that he would help name and bury. Then Otto Cunttower found his perfect opportunity to yet again wedge himself between the brothers.Daemon pitied Visery forhe could stare at the blasted throne for hours and still not find the shred of tolerance Viserys had for the Hand’s nonsense. 

He was sure to put Otto’s impunity in check by planning to have the cunt’s own son tossed from his horse, talk about my impunity then.

That and he had truly hoped to win the champion’s purse for Mysaria even though he  made a fruitless bet that he regretted, for you the small princess that begged him for a dagger. Therein lay the truth, you wouldn’t stab Marsha Tarly of two and twenty, but  your eyes may still try to bore daggers into the dim witted girl’s head. 

As he rode to the Painted Bird to visit Mysaria, he mind did wander to daggers that would be appropriate for you and perhaps even is niece. . Could a fucking swordsmith even weld pompels of delicate flowers and kittens? His head toiled on such things as he drank some more. Having won multiple of his brother’s tourney before, a match would be of little challenge. The blood and violence sang to his animalistic desires  as he entered the brothel full of gold cloaks. 

“The Prince has arrived!” Tarbyk? - Torbk exclaimed, buried deep in a common whore of brown hair. Daemon  looked for Mysaria with a smirk on his face. 

“Ready to prepare for yet another victory, my prince,” she kissed his neck, offering him a cup of ale, “shall we drink! For the Heir’s Tourney!” 

Another round of hoots and hollers followed as Daemon revelled in the disarray of it all, the smell of cunt, ale and incense upon the thick day air in the house. Mysaria settled herself on his lap,preening through and through. Mostly Daemon admired her swan-like neck, spending hours just marking her up with his lips and suckling away at the sweet almond oil rubbed on her skin. 

“Do you truly wish to make your Bronze Bitch, Queen?” Mysaria whispered as she nipped at his lobe. 

“Should I have you be my queen instead,” he wryly asked, his purple eyes fixated on her brown ones. 

She cackled, full bellied before burying her head in his shoulder “I’d rather be gelded my prince,” 

Daemon’s eyes held a yearning sense of mischief, unable to sexually satisfy himself let alone his gorgeous paramour in white. He planned to make a present of unyielding peaks tonight to her, fucking away the truth that come morrow he would yet again have to fight for his place to remain at court, by his brother, in his home and with his family. 

As he arrived at the Tourney grounds, the smell of victory and coppery blood already lingered in the heir. His prized stallion Alastor awaited another pleasant win for he was to remain uncontested at the jousting fields. You are a dragon, you are fire. He closed his eyes, whispering the words his mother once said to him before pushing his reins to ride forth as the Game Master announced his titles. 

Shrill screams of women and based shouts of men echoed, muffled under Daemon's helmet as a knowing smirk crept up onto his lip, this was home, this was his kingdom. A place where he was far better than his brother, he looked to the balcony where his brother sat, proud and crowned. Heir’s Tourney, he was sure to give the people of King’s Landing a spectacle to remember. 

Daemon trotted down the line up of knights, Baratheon, Tully, Stark, Mooton, Serret, Hightower- Hightower. He pointed his lance at Gywane Hightower, wishing it was Otto’s head instead as he picked his opponent. The Game Master yet again announced his choice as both men rode for the balconies, what he expected was to have his lance decorated in the blue crown you made. 

The girls all huddled to the iron bar, leaning down to look at the knights, unaware which one was to give their favour to who. Though appeared prepared as you walked to position yourself in front of Daemon. The deal you had struck with him seemed to have been taken very seriously by you. The Hightower born instead opened his mouth as he called for you.

“I would humbly ask for the favour of the Princess of Dorne,” he projected, the tip of his lance resting by where you stood. 

Why this cunt-

He would lose, you knew it, Rhaenyra knew it and Daemon knew it. Your straightened shoulders slumped in defeat but the polite smile on your face never faded as you slid the crown down his lance. “I wish good fortune to you, Ser Gywane,” you said, looking at Daemon apprehensively.

Though he knew the sweet thing you were, you’d never ask him to lose, though win or lose. It wouldn’t matter for your wish of a dagger would be diffused regardless. Daemon rebuttals with the only other thing he could as he looks to Alicent peeling away at her fingers. 

“Now…” he trotted forward to where Alicent stood. “I’m fairly certain I could win these games Lady Alicent. Your favour would all but assure it” strike of gold as the young lady turned to look at her father before flinging down her favour at Daemon. Who knew he would get to maim Gywane Hightower with his own sister’s blessing. “I shall keep my promise,” he said to you before viciously eyeing the blue crystal- blue flowers upon Hightower’s jousting pole.

Daemon thereafter rode to his end of line, he stretched out his neck one and then twice, you are fire, he looked to his side, crowd murmuring in anticipation, the ladies enthusiastically leaning over the bars. Daemon took another breath before nudging Alastor to attention and charging forward. He tested the green knight once, feeling the jousting pole gash against his armour as he traced the other end. 

Daemon quickly drifted around, reaching for another pole before charging yet again, come to me motherfucker, his dirty trick of aiming for the horse’s legs sent Gywane Hightower landing on his face. Dirt covered and no doubt bleeding, a broken nose mayhaps? 

He looked up to the stands once more, seeing the disdained glare decorate Otto Hightower’s face. Satiating Daemon’s monstrous hunger as he trotted away to prepare for the next round. 

You looked away, the second you heard the horse screech and topple over, poor thing. Alicent silently gasped, watching her brother fall over as both you and Rhaenyra grabbed one hand each to comfort her.  She had bitten away at her skin with blood pooling around her fingers, you couldn’t watch either being sure that you’d grow sick from hearing another horse cry. 

“Come with me,” you whispered in her ear, pulling her up with you as you exited the stand while rubbing your belly to soothe it. You both ventured to the Godswood instead, Ser Darklyn followed at your heel until you sat with Alicent under the Weirwood tree. 

“I’m sorry about your brother,” you gave her a sympathetic smile “only the gods will know what joy men find in these cruel games.”

“He will be fine, I think.” Alicent mindlessly traced her fingers on the lace of her light blue dress. “We match today,” she pointed out. 

You looked at your dress and then hers “I suppose we do, blue is a wonderous colour.” 

“You are to have your hems dropped soon, any chances of your dressing turning mustard?” she asked with a knowing look to her eye, a question you had been asked multiple times before. 

“Maybe..?” you groaned before laying against a section between the roots “if I visit Dorne for the Voyage Day festivities, I am sure my brother would send me home with a crate of mustard and orange dresses.” 

You, in a childish rage, had sworn off the mustard the moment you arrived on the Blackwater shores as ward, when Aemma took to acquiring things for you to appeal to your spirits. You had all your mustard gowns donated for shades of blue, the ones that reminded you of the beaches at Old Palace. There even is a galant vessel named after you, docked at the Blackwater ports in Dragonstone. She sails on every one of your name days, though the Blackwater is far too murky to swim unlike The Sunset Sea. 

“You ought to stop doing that, you won’t have fingers anymore,” you gestured at her fingers as she shyly hid away. 

“I can’t seem to stop…” Alicent mumbled, averting her eyes elsewhere. 

“Maybe twirl you twist your rings instead?” you suggested, they often worked to soothe the anxiety in your chest whenever you visited court or in this case had to sit through brutal games. She nodded, looking at her own rings. You both thereafter sat in silence, it was comforting, it was home as your companionship remained true even years after. 

The muffled shouts from the Game Grounds still reached your ears as you basked in the sun, the slow wind lulling you to a slumber as you had risen far too early today for your liking, you could sleep all day if it were allowed. However today brought on a different exhaustion, in the back of your mind all you could think of Aemma labouring. Toiling if Rhaenyra, Alicent, Laena and you had decorated yet another crib to mourn a child. The egg that awaited this child at the nursery’s hearth, mayhaps it would have a rider. 

“Did you know Lady Marband is hiding a belly?” Alicent spoke up after a while. 

You giggled, nodding to agree. “Oberya told me, here I thought she was getting fat.”

“She is already fat,” Alicent sniggered as you giggled once more.

“She does look beautiful though, the motherhood glow I suppose,” you looked up at her “do you know who?” 

“My pin money is on Lord Massey’s eldest,” she shrugged. 

“No…no?” you laughed, unable to imagine a whore monger like him being wed, the stories of the women in his bedchamber was well known by every brick upon the Red Keep. “Are we sure it’s not the younger one?” 

“Have you ever seen him not look purple whenever a lady speaks to him?” Alicent raised a brow making you giggle once more. “He nearly fainted when Rhaenyra spoke to him once.” 

Rhaenyra sat within the merriments of the stands with her family, Laena now sitting next to her as they gushed about the games. Though every now and then a commoner or squire would wave at the young princess, to which she would politely smile back. Daemon had torn through the lot of the combatants, and as was expected. Having nearly slain two knights, and broken bones of many others as he kept up with his eccentric tricks on the field. 

All of whom were left was him and Ser Criston Cole, this might have been one of the most exacting moments. Perhaps her dear uncle would finally meet his match.

“Ser Criston Cole will now tilt against Ser Daemon Targaryen, the Prince of the City.”

Ser Criston lifted his visor as he approached the stands, lifting his lance at Rhaenyra “I was hoping to ask for the Princess’s favour,” he huffed breathlessly. 

Rhaenyra smirked at Daemon before obliging and slotting her favour down Criston’s lance “I wish you luck, Ser Criston.”

She was far to enthralled by the fighting as the men wasted away two jousting poles before Criston unhorsed Daemon, the fighting continued by hand and while she felt a sting of guilt for favouring against her uncle, it would be an amusing thing to witness Daemon Targaryen finally be bested.

The ruckus behind her was completely forgotten as first Otto Hightower left and then her father King Viserys. In her excitement, she cheered by the bars, clapping along and hooting with Laenor by her side. Blow after blow and still the tension was amiss to her. The Small Council dispersed after, following behind the whispers of the servants. 

Aemma’s screams had long stopped echoing from Maegor’s Holdfast, merely an interchange of midwives carrying towels and basins of water. You had noticed the shuffling down the corridors first, the cheers from the games were still far too loud for the attendant to be filling the halls already. You frowned at Alicent before standing up, your curious mind begging you to follow. 

“I shall return in a moment,” you told her with a confused expression covering your features, she nodded before you could leave. 

As the servant girls began running up the stairs to the Holdfast, excitement grew in your belly. Perhaps the new babe was here, mayhaps a girl to add to your flock. Just as you turned the hallway, your eyes found servants with bloodied towels and sheets in their hands. Basins of pink water covered in pulp like mess, you froze, this was so much blood. It stained the cream of their tunics as they carried these sheets away in a hurry. 

You would have rushed up the stairs to Aemma’s bedchambers, instead you were met with distraught Rhaenyra being pulled out of the stairway by Ser Westerling, he passed a knowing look to Ser Darklyn who was prepared to catch you from running up those stairs. 

“Rhaenyra?” you questioned, you held onto her shoulder but she just kept sobbing. 

“Princess perhaps you might resume to your chambers,” Ser Darklyn requested from behind you. You followed Rhaenyra all the way to your shared quarters. 

“She is dead,” Rhaenyra cried in your arms as you hugged her on the divan, the tears that should have been coating your face too seemed to have disappeared entirely. You just held onto Rhaenyra, that’s all you could do. Alicent did all the consoling, cooing and talking Rhaenyra through her grief. 

Your tongue felt heavy, you had known loss before but this was raw. You had seen her just last night, she laid a kiss upon your cheek before bed. She wasn’t your mother, but she was more, she was Aemma. You would have thought that Viserys would have come to visit but he never did, even as the glaring moon graced her skies. 

The Archmaester himself brought along a tea with Nightshade to help Rhaenyra sleep, her crying found no end until the tea was coaxed into her. Rhaenys visited once, as you succumbed to a slight doze when she grazed her hand upon Rhaenyra’s head. You had awoken to her shushing you back to sleep and squeezing Alicent’s hand. 

You awoke within the early hours of day, the servants filling out to light the candles, your own handmaiden along with Alicent and Rhaenyra’s awaited in the receiving chambers, in your bed chambers a black gown awaited you. 

“Do I have to?” You looked to Sona, she softened her eyes, holding the gown up. 

“It is proper, highness,” she shrugged.

You emerged from your bed chambers to the dining hall, though it was slowly being filled with food. Not a soul loomed in the room, you sat in your chair, frowning hard as you pulled your feet onto the chair. Finding no use of appropriate posture in an empty room. 

“Princess,” Daemon snapped you out of your dazed thoughts. 

“Daemon.” You acknowledged as your frown softened, you pushed your feet off the chair to resume a more ladylike stance. He too dressed in black.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his own voice hoarse from the games yesterday. 

You hadn’t given much thought to how you felt, in truth you weren’t sure if the sensations with you even realized you had truly lost someone. “I- I don’t know.” You shook your head. “You?” 

Daemon grunted rather than replying. It was only then it dawned you to ask the question. 

“Is it a son?” you asked, unsure if this was an inappropriate time. 

“Was a son,” he replied before looking away. Having not more of an answer to give to you. “Rhaenyra?”

“Asleep, Mellos gave her Nightshade,” you said as a matter of fact. Yet again silence graced the room as you tried to nibble away at some melons. A son, was a son. What was the point? Then you felt it, the harder you thought the bile began to rise to the back of your throat. You were sure your palms were growing hot. 

“I know what I feel…” you whispered, making Daemon look at you. “Angry, I feel angry.” At two and ten, you lost yet another mother. All so a man would have an heir (heirs) your eyes watered in the rage you felt. 

“I have to go help Rhaenyra dress.”

on ao3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/47686021/chapters/120437398

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