#milly alcock fanfiction

[infernalodie]

𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 || 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤

“𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘨𝘰, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘣𝘦 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘺 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶“

Inspo: Daniel Caesar - Blessed

Summary: She needed to know she was blessed to have you...

Warnings: Angst and some very comfy fluff

Words: 1419

“Why do your parents treat me like royalty?” Milly asked, smoothing out her dress in the mirror.

You waved your arm, scoffing quietly. “They grew up in Atlanta. Hearing someone with an accent like yours makes them jump to conclusions. They think you qualify as the Queen of England-“ you stopped yourself when seeing her peek her head out of the bathroom, parted lips of shock with the corners tilted upwards in a smile. “-which you are in my eyes, of course.”

“I’m not even English. I’m fuckin’ Australian, Y/n,” she commented, giggling.

“Oh, I know,” you chuckled. “But if you don’t speak with an American accent, you might as well be royalty and my family gets a bit excessive when that happens.”

“Has it happened before?” Milly stepped out of the bathroom, now bare of the dress with nothing else to hide your intrusive gaze. Something she quickly picked up on, snapping her fingers. “Use your head to give me an answer. Not thinking of ways you plan on trying to keep me up tonight.”

“But baby-“

“Do as your told, honey.” Her lips were pressed in an amused grin, raising an encouraging brow.

Since the dinner with your parents, she hadn’t been able to remove the tickling feeling in her stomach. The butterfly effect always appeared when you looked in her direction, smiling at her with that dreamy look of yours. Or when your hand would caress the inside of her leg, breaking her walls slowly. Because while your mother and father were peppering her with questions, you just traced shapes into her skin, clearly enjoying the way she was fumbling over her words.

She knew how the night would divulge when the two of you got home, but she would play her time.

You sighed, shaking your head. “First girl I actually brought to my parents, my mom immediately started saying “no” and forced her out of the house and demanded I break up with her.”

Milly laughed. “Why?”

“Because she was a white girl and acted like she knew what our life was like and grew up in the hood.” That made Milly fall into giggles, trying to hide her lips with the back of her hand. It was adorable and made you chuckle, biting your bottom lip. “And all of the girls after that I never brought to meet them,” you said. “Well, until you at least.”

Her feet padded against the ground until you felt her pressed against your back. Arms curling around your waist with her lips meeting your back, pressing delicate kisses against ebony skin. Her hands gently ran up and down your stomach, fingers pressing and nails digging wherever she saw fit. It made you stand up straighter, unable to hide the deep groan that bellowed deep in your chest.

“I’m glad,” she whispered, eyes slightly flickering shut as you absorbed the warmth of your skin against hers. “I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been just waiting to have a moment to ourselves.”

You smiled, folding the pair of dress pants before tossing them to the foot of the bed. “Well, I’m here with you now, honey.” Turning in her hold, you stared adoringly down at the woman. Her eyes sparkled with love. Her touch was a drug. Her voice was a lullaby. Her personality and smile bring light to a room where shadows reached outward.

Taking her face in your hands, you caressed her cheekbones, smiling softly. “God, I fucking love you.”

Milly couldn’t decipher what it was. A blast of warmth hit her face suddenly, making her bottom lip quiver. Eyes tearing up as your smile slowly fell, brows scrunching together. “I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes. “I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so sorry-” Before she could say anything further, you lifted her chin, softly pressing your lips to hers.

She was frozen against you, tense under your warm embrace. But as the seconds passed, she melted against you. Sniffling as she wrapped her arms tightly around your neck, feeling you grab the back of her thighs and lift her off the ground. “I love you.” Your words made her eyes water more. The salty taste of her tears falling to your lips as your hands held her gently. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Slowly lowering her to the bed, you pulled away just enough to stare at her. Milly’s face was red, eyes fluttering as she fought to have them open. But the longer you stared, the more she felt the need to cover herself. In the instant she attempted to do so, you pushed her arms above her head, peppering her body with kisses and bites.

“The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” you praised between kisses. “I love you. I love you so fucking much, Milly. I love you.”

You repeated it over and over again, feeling Milly hold you tighter in a flare of urgency. Her tears stained her cheeks and stung her eyes as you hid your face in her neck. “Say it, baby.”

Milly’s lips trembled. “I love you, Y/n. I love you so much.”

You smiled softly, sitting up. Grabbing the blanket, you placed it around your shoulder, your body creating a makeshift tent for the woman lying beneath you. She was wiping her cheek, sniffling and letting out faint whimpers.

Exhaling softly, you wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her enough to switch spots. Her body immediately sought your warmth, arms coiling around your chest. There were no words spoken. Just the soft strokes of warm hands and soft breaths against skin.

It took a while before you had the courage to speak. Milly’s sniffle converted to soft inhales as she gently massaged your sides. “Why did you start crying?” You asked softly, tilting your head to get a better look at her.

She swallowed thickly, nibbling on her bottom lip with her head adjusting to meet your gaze. And there were the sparkles again, the peppered glitter of tears that hung at the brim of her eyes. A shaky smile appeared as she said, “I thought I would never get to hear you say it,” she confessed. “With the distance, I thought you wouldn’t be sure of continuing what we have.”

Your lips twisted in a sweet smile, eyes softening as you cupped her cheek. “Milly,” you sighed. “You are the most beautiful girl I have met. I couldn’t imagine myself with anyone else. Sure as hell no chick that works at a Hot Topic.”

Milly felt her lips crack into a grin, tucking her face in your chest as she giggled. Feeling you press your lips to the crown of her head and sigh. “I love you, baby. And if you need me to say it every day, I will,” you reassured. “Everywhere I go, if you aren’t there, then I don’t wish to be there. But knowing you’ll be coming home and I can have you for myself makes my love for you grow.”

“Even if it sucks?” Milly inquired gently.

“Even if it sucks,” you repeated, smiling. “I care too much about you to let selfish desires hold you back from your job. And I love you too much to be hung up on things you have no control over.” A soft chuckle fell from your lips as you shook your head. “Baby, I want to come home to you. I want to come home from work and just have you waiting to hold me. Ask me about my day and tell me about yours. But if I have to wait years for that to happen, I can be patient. I just wanna see you shine baby and I will love you no matter what.” 

And it was there that things were eased and Milly allowed herself to smile. Allowing herself to indulge in the love you were giving that she had never been aware was for her. And she felt special. And for the first time in your relationship, she felt deserving of it because you had been putting up with her work schedule since the two of you met. You were willing to work around her times and willing to drop everything to spend an hour with her if that’s all she could give.

But now, she knew that this love you had to offer was special. And for however long she could bask in it, she would enjoy it and hope to pay you back in reciprocated feelings.

#milly alcock #milly alcock imagine #milly alcock fanfiction #milly alcock angst #milly alcock fluff #milly alcock x black!reader #milly alcock x black!male!reader #milly alcock x black reader #milly alcock x black male reader #x reader #x black!male!reader #x black!reader #x black reader #poc reader #x poc reader

[fandomnerd9602]

She was your princess. You were her knight. Sworn to protect her, to let your last action ever be your sword hitting the ground because your opponent bested you. To make sure that she lived while you’d die for her.

How could you have not fallen for her? How could the very sight of her smile not ignite the fury of a thousand dragons’ fire in your heart?

How could Rhaenyra not fall for you? Your steadfast nature, your kindness, the way you smiled when you locked eyes with her from across the royal court. All of it just made her fall deeper in love with you.

You took whatever moment you could just to be in her presence. A second, a minute, whenever you could, you were by her side. A gentle walk in the garden. A token of her favor before you went to train with the other knights. Any time with her was welcome.

You pledged everything to her.

“Everything that I am,” you whisper against her knuckles, “ my sword, my shield my very soul I have pledged to you.”

“Then run away with me” she practically pleaded with her hazel eyes.

“ you and I both know that wouldn’t be a life.” you sadly counter You take her chin in your palm and lock eyes with her, "but know this that after these bones have turned to dust and dragons no longer fly in the skies above Westeros, my heart will always keep on beating for you.”

“And mine shall beat for you" her lips formed a silent promise.

You gave her hand a soft kiss and she walked away from you sadly.

What you failed to notice was that king Viserys had noticed the whole ordeal. An idea was quickly forming in his mind.

The king summoned you into his throne room within the hour. Your heart was beating out of your chest. As you walked into the massive throne room to find it was only you and him. You fall to your knees at the base of the intimidating Iron Throne, fearful for your very life.

"Your majesty" you put your own sword before Viserys' feet.

"Arise my son" he gently orders you, "have you heard of House Valor?"

You've heard of it, "the grand isle to the far west of Westeros?"

"The very one" King Viserys walks down from his throne and approaches you, "I'm sending you at once as my emissary"

"But, your Majesty, my duty as protector to Princess-"

"That is a direct order from your king" Viserys gently interrupts you. "the ship is leaving promptly at sunset"

You could feel the color drain from your face. You couldn't even tell Rhaenyra goodbye, you had to leave in that instance.

Your journey to Castle Valor was a day's journey aboard a ship across the sea to a land beyond the horizon of Westeros. House Valor was long held as a house that held true to its very title. If the world believed that morality was dead, Valor held the lifeline showing that it was not.

You arrived at your destination. A humble island nation, vast villages that dotted its landscape. The castle sat in the middle of the island, not massive by any stretch of the imagination but its stronghold told of its pride and honor.

The guards lead you directly to the throne room and there sat Lord Valor, an elderly man with a kind smile and eyes that told of a life time of heart aches. You kneel before the ruler.

"Lord Valor" you state, "I come on behalf of King Viserys as his emissary. I may not have a title but I will serve you to the best of my ability."

"Welcome my son" the older man greets you, rising from his throne and putting his hand on your shoulder, "we have much to talk about"

A day's journey became a few solid weeks. Rhaenyra's heart was only growing all the more fond of you in your absence. She found herself summoned to her father's throne room.

"Rhaenyra I have selected a husband for you" King Viserys states, not allowing any room for debate.

"What?" Rhaenyra's heart broke in that moment. She could only hope it was not with House Velaryon.

"You are of age and we must secure our borders with House Valor" Viserys explains. "Your betrothed will be arriving shortly."

"But Father I can't marry into House Valor" Rhaenyra tries to explain, "I am in love with-"

The doors of the throne room opened and you walked in, dressed in the royal dressing of House Valor. You carried yourself calmly with every bit of might and pride that a prince would.

"Your majesties" you offer a bow to the two royals. Rhaenyra could feel her heart fluttering at the sight of you.

"Ser Y/N of House Valor" Viserys smiles, catching the smile already forming on Rhaenyra's face. "Glad you could make it."

The truth was that while you were not of noble birth or of privileged title, the lord of House Valor was in search of a successor. A kind man, beloved by all under the banner of his house, he did not have any children or heirs to speak of. Viserys had been in talks with Lord Valor for a while. The king noticed your own sense of morality and kindness, especially to Rhaenyra. Viserys offered you and your sword up as a potential successor. So Lord Valor took you in and named you his 'son'. You had spent the last few weeks learning all that you could from your newly adoptive father. And with it, you finally realized that you could wed the princess. Your heart was brimming with joy over that mere thought.

You walk up to Rhaenyra and gently kiss her hand, "if my lady will have me, i would treasure each second of the day with you."

"I think this marriage is more than agreeable," the young princess giggled, tears beginning to stream down her porcelain face. You pull her into your arms and kiss her tenderly. She wraps her arms around your neck, holding you close.

You briefly look to King Viserys who gives you a wink as you guide Rhaenyra out of the throne room.

#rhaenyra targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x reader #princess x knight #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #house targaryen #milly alcock #game of thrones #house of the dragon imagine #hotd x reader #male reader #male reader insert #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon x reader

[bi-disaster-yn]

Helpless

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!Reader

Summary: Rhaenyra struggles with the loss of her mother and only Reader steps up to help her.

A/N: I am already down SO BAD for Rhaenyra and will be bending the knee for her.

You had never fought on the battlefield before but you were sure at this moment you would win a war to get back to Rhaenyra.

When the news had reached you about the untimely passing of her mother, you knew you had to abandon your travels and head back to King’s Landing to be there for her. It seemed like the urgency of your expedition had dissipated and this had become the only thing in the world that mattered.

You were partially comforted by the fact that she would have Alicent to look after her. Although, this wouldn’t be the same as you tending to her. Whilst Alicent was Rhaenyra’s dearest friend, you were her lover and closest confidant. 

Tight knotting ravaged your stomach and chest as you got closer and closer to King’s Landing. Fear set in as you pondered how your poor Rhaenyra was faring without you. The carriage just simply wasn’t going fast enough. You had demanded returning by horseback, knowing you’d be able to outride the entire party and get there in half the time. However, your demands were harshly refused. Instead, you were to sit helplessly in a carriage, playing with your hands and torturing yourself with the endless possibilities of your love’s welfare.

Once safely in King’s Landing, you ignored a squire’s hand to help you out of the carriage and essentially launched yourself out of it. 

“My Lady, we hadn’t expected you back for quite some time.” The squire commented but you brushed him off.

“The Princess needs me.” You responded, storming off to the kitchen to fetch a selection of some of Rhaenyra’s favourite cakes. Then, you completed your mission to her chambers.

You were right; Rhaenyra did need you. When you found her, she was curled up on her bed, lying on her stomach on a large pillow that was almost the size of a person. It was drenched with her tears but she clung onto it, sobbing relentlessly.

Never had you seen your dear Rhaenyra so helpless. Her full body was racked with painful and shuddering sobs. She seemed fragile and thin. Clearly, she had eaten very little since the event and the consequences had quickly manifested in her petite frame. The black dress that once fitted her perfectly now seemed to drown her.

She lay facing out of the window and didn’t register your entrance. It wasn’t until you set the cakes to the side and gently got on to the bed behind her that she realised there was someone else in the room. Startled, she jumped at the contact when you placed a loving hand on her shoulder until she recognised your kind face and she instantly felt safe.

Desperately, she grabbed at the collar of your dress, pulling you down on top of her and let out deep and heart-wrenching howls. It was the safety you provided that allowed her to let go so freely and truly vent her pained emotions. You responded to her by wrapping your arms round her tightly and burying your head in her neck, kissing her soft skin gently to reassure her.

“My sweet one, I am so sorry.” You mumbled against her skin. “I am here now. I am sorry I wasn’t before.”

“You came back for me.” She shakily spoke in between her ragged breathing.

“I will always come back for you, Princess.” You said, resting your elbow on the pillow and looking down at her. The poor thing had a red and raw complexion in stark contrast to her usually sun kissed one. You ran your fingers through her hair, casually twirling the strands between them in an attempt to soothe her.

Rhaenyra reached up to kiss you gently, placing both of her hands on your cheeks and holding you in place. Your eyes instantly closed and you reciprocated the kiss delicately. You brushed your thumb along her jaw in feather-like touches. Selfishly, you rejoiced at the opportunity of being able to kiss her again but held yourself back in respect for her mourning.

Once you’d pulled back, you rested your forehead against hers, still caressing her jawline. She looked up at you with a gorgeous combination of ardour and melancholy.

“You can tell Alicent to take some rest, I am here to tend to you now.” You whispered to her; your face close enough to hers that your lips brushed against her skin as you spoke.

Rhaenyra swallowed thickly at that and settled back against the pillow, avoiding your gaze. Her response confused you profusely and you brushed some hair away from her forehead in an attempt to get her to look at you.

“Alicent has not been here in days. I hear she tends to my father.” Rhaenyra admitted, almost guiltily and still tried to avoid eye contact with you. Nothing could stop the frown that your features contorted to make. To say the least, you were furious. In your Rhaenyra’s time of need, the person who you were sure would tend to her had abandoned her in favour of her father. The King no doubt would have had the support of the small council, countless whores and anyone else who enjoyed breathing. In your absence, Rhaenyra only had Alicent but had been left to fend for herself.

“What about Daemon?” You inquired. “Surely he has paid you a visit.”

Daemon wasn’t exactly your preferred substitute but apart from you or Alicent, you knew that he would be the only one who could provide your beloved with some comfort.

“No, I don’t know where he is.” She replied sheepishly. This angered you too, but not nearly as much as Alicent. If anything, Daemon’s absence was to be preferred. You had always been cynical of his intentions with Rhaenyra and she did not need his influence in this particularly vulnerable time. Still, she should never have been left alone.

Carefully, you sat back against the grand throw pillows on the bed and pulled Rhaenyra with you so that her head rested on your chest.

“Well, I am here now and I’m not going anywhere.” You reassured her, pressing kisses to the crown of her head.

“I am glad you’re back; I couldn’t possibly pretend that big pillow was you for much longer.” She replied, with a slight smirk in her tone. It was both heart-warming and gut-wrenching that she had craved your comfort so much she had resorted to imagining your presence.

“Well, hopefully I have more intelligent things to say than the pillow.” You offered, stroking her hair and allowing her to wrap her arms round your waist to hold you in an iron grip. She never truly appreciated the vastness of her own physical strength.

“Hmm, I am not so sure.” Rhaenyra joked, looking up at you with a faint smile. Despite her mourning and the pain, she would always be able to smile once in your arms. For that, you’d allow her to make her little jests so that she might find her playful demeanour again.

“Well, I’ll keep quiet then. I am sure you and the pillow have much to discuss.” You smirked.

“I think we have discussed all we can.” She sighed contentedly, settling into your arms. “Tell me about your travels. Give me a distraction from how heinous this feels.”

“I will, but first,” you began, reaching over to retrieve the cakes from the side. “Please eat some of these. I know you won’t have eaten much but I’m certain you can be tempted with cake.”

Rhaenyra’s stiff and exposed expression confirmed you were right about her not having eaten. She made a careful selection on a lavender cake and nibbled on it, looking up at you adoringly.

“You know how to make everything better.” She told you, settling her head in the crook of your neck. You kissed her forehead gently and rubbed her back soothingly.

“I’ll always try to make things better for you, my Princess.” You said and the did as your princess had commanded of you, regaling stories of your recent travels in an animated way which you knew she would like. Rhaenyra enjoyed your commentary, sometimes finding herself giggling and immediately began to feel more at ease. Her one true love had endeavoured to come back for her when she needed them most.

Existence without her mother was excruciating and the days that followed Queen Aemma’s passing had been a war that Rhaenyra was losing. She had tried desperately to keep her head above water, flailing helplessly with no assistance. With your return, it was like you had reached your hand out to stop her from drowning. Rhaenyra settled, feeling safe in your arms and that things had just gotten a little less terrible.

#rhaenyra targaryen #Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader #Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!reader #Rhaenyra Targaryen x female reader #Rhaenyra Targaryen fanfiction #Rhaenyra Targaryen one shot #Rhaenyra Targaryen imagine #Rhaenyra Targaryen drabble #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #Rhaenyra Targaryen x yn #Rhaenyra targa x you #reader insert #game of thrones fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #daemon targaryen #milly alcock #milly Alcock x reader #lgbt reader

[themotherofblood]

Prologue . 3 | RIVER OF FIRE | Goodbye | D.T x reader x R.T

series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 2

warnings: angst! funeral,

synopsis: when Daemon and Rhaenyra find their own means of love and passion within a Martell princess, within them is the support for this union, the rest of the world will never agree. Not that Daemon cares.

~ did some force take you because I didn’t pray ~

“I am torn, so very torn. Alicent lied to us, to Rhaenyra. For months we thought she was coaxing us through our grief, helping heal Rhaenyra and Viserys’s relationship. She lied. This isn’t her, it was her father. We are ladies, it is our duty from birth to be married but this, I pray that she remains Alicent not just the Queen.”

“I know you’ve refused once before,” Rhaenyra mumbled, she clutched onto your hands with conviction. Please say yes. “Ride with me to Dragonstone.” 

“On dragonback?” Your eyebrows furrow as you cease your mindless folding of handkerchiefs. That wasn’t an odd request, denying her however would prove to be impossible. 

The court was to gather together this evening as a sail for Dragonstone to perform Aemma’s final rites. The stay would be for two days, though Rhaenyra insisted on remaining on Dragonstone for a week. It was good, Viserys agreed. She could use a change within her drill monotony of receiving condolences and stiff-lipped smiles to the congregation for she was a princess of the Realm, she had duties even when she must mourn her mother. 

You placed down the last handkerchief by the mirror of your vanity as you turned to look at her. “You won’t let me fall?” 

“Never, please duck.” The dropped lids of her eye, red and bruised from her spurts of cries. You nodded, walking over to engulf Rhaenyra once more, having predicted the soon wobble of her lips before the tears yet again came. 

Rhaenyra couldn���t fathom the agony that persisted within her chest, weighing it down so heavily that if she were to lay in bed, she couldn’t breathe. Gasping and face red until her lady-in-waiting Enorah would pull her upright, she would then realise that she had been sobbing so hard there was no room to breathe. Those moments were so aching and yet fleeting as she would soon find herself whimpering and sniffling in Alicent’s or your arms. 

Rhaenyra and Alicent together had mourned Aemma, you’d find Alicent often, wiping at her eyes. Memories of her own mother consuming her so heavily, she couldn’t find it in her to hold the onslaught so she may soothe Rhaenyra. You, nought is to be said about your mourning, even Daemon appeared to be tearful at breakfast the last morrow but you. Not a single drop of tear split to patter on your bath water or wet your pillow. 

Sleep however had evaded you entirely, Rhaenyra had stopped consuming Nightshade after the third night, finding that her spurt of sobs lulled her to an exhaustive uncomfortable sleep. You however laid flat against your bed one moment, a book meant to read laying on your tummy untouched and nothing. The first night you turned to the window and realised the Hour of the Nightingale as you heard them chirping, this followed the second night. Rhaenyra curled asleep next to you and you, nothing. 

Oberya had appeared concerned, nought had shifted in your demeanour and that precisely tickled her irked. Yesterday when the court convened to the Throne Room, you set eyes upon Viserys for the first time in three days. He announced for the court to set sail to Dragonstone to perform Aemma’s last writ of fire. Your head was so heavy, you profusely blinked your eyes to wash away the clouding in front of your eyes. The figure of Viserys’s white hair was merely spot within your vision as you stood in the gallery with the other young ladies. 

When the court dispersed, you lingered in the galleries for a moment. Letting the fog cut from this sticky slack it had found itself into. You grew tired walking back to your chambers, legs heavy, fingers heavy, head heavy. You climbed the stairs only to stop four floors below yours and rest for a moment. One moment your head rested on the cool red rock of the walls, the next—nothing. 

Oberya had found on her way up to your rooms, she called your name once and then twice more but you were beyond the line of consciousness. The impetuous change from the colour of your skin, she yelled for the attendants to call for the Maester. Lack of sleep was your diagnosis, from the night after Aemma’s death. 

Once more, nightshade was prescribed for your condition, Rhaenyra beyond dejected, cursing at herself for not seeing your declining vigour. Though today as you told Oberya to help you be dressed in riding clothes, she was strictly against it. You mind still astray from the after effects of Nightshade. She urged Rhaenyra to not encourage your first joy ride above the clouds to be on such a strenuous day. Nyra gave her a stiff lipped nod before she left for the Dragonpit.

Your wheelhouse already held another companion, Alicent sat with a thick blanket draped over her legs. As you climbed on she lifted the free end to let you underneath. You hadn’t seen her much in the day, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration if you said she was affected by Aemma’s loss. Her mother passed two summers before, the emotions and the grief of it would stain her skin like an old wound gaped open. 

The Motherless Luncheon, that’s what your gathering should be called. First your mother, then hers and then Rhaenyra. All passing in similar ways. 

“Will you be staying the week with us?” you questioned, you hoped she would. It would be a pleasant time away but mostly she could comfort Nyra in a way that it seems that you couldn’t. 

“Father wants me to return.” She said disappointedly, she too looked forward to staying at Dragonstone. She could pry away from her father’s demands to visit with Viserys every night.

You reached to pat the hand over the blanket. “I’m sure we can try convincing him after the funeral,” you reassured “mayhaps the King could help.” 

Alicent absentmindedly nodded, looking at the flora carved holes on the metal walls of the wheel house. 

At the docks, boats remained tied in an organised line, awaiting to row the nobles of the procession to their designated ships. The King’s vessel was prepared for him, the Hand, Alicent and you along with other required essential staff, a separate cabin to lay the silk wrapped bodies of Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon. Your Daima Oberya was to board another ship along with Queen Aemma’s former ladies in waiting. 

Even the Blackwater seemed to have been weeping today, the grey skies outlining the black sails of the Targaryen sigil, you looked to the sky. Waiting to see Rhaenyra fly from King’s Landing. You rested your head against the iron railing of the ship for a moment— Oberya was right, your head still felt uneasy because of the drift wind. Then you heard it, with King’s Landing fading in the horizon. Loud melodic chirps and gruntled whines, a red and a gold dragon following behind flew from the dome roof of the Dragonpit. Daemon, pulling Caraxes higher in the air and Rhaenyra still flying lower towards Viserys’s ship, towards you. 

You waved at the yellow figure right above you, Rhaenyra’s silver hair flying as she gave you a second glimpse before pulling on Syrax’s reins to catch up to her uncle and his mount. 

The pyres were built as the court mingled and took lunch together, Rhaenyra pulled you along to the gardens to pick up stray twigs and fallen flowers onto the pyres before her brother and mother were placed on them. The dragon keepers had fed young Syrax a sheep, to keep her tempered, her demeanour matched the mewlish clinging of Rhaenyra. 

The sunshine that she was covered by the ghastly shade of this moon’s untimely events, you could sing to her, help her pick a star in the sky like you did for your mother. Have her wrapped around you as she wept, or perhaps even the frequent visits from her dear uncle Daemon. He mostly gave her things, mumbled Valyrian poetry as held her sobbing frame. You could do nought but work away at your needle point, he would ask you the same thing over and over again. Surely having heard them from Oberya. 

“Have you cried yet?” 

Such stoicism in the short body of a girl of two and ten would have anyone gossiping about the possibility of madness or cruel disinterest. What Martell would weep at the loss of another of the Targaryen ilk.

The wind blew wild as the court gathered upon the Ashen Rock, Aemma’s silk wrapped body awaited with her son Viserys whispered his final partings. Rhaenyra couldn't look at her father as she stood next to you, her hand firmly holding your, preventing herself from falling over. Everyone lingered in the discomforting mourn of the royals, awkwardly looking at one another or away from the former Queen’s body. The other’s gawking at Syrax stood over the giant dragon glass scaled rock, swaying back and forth and sniffing the ground beneath her. 

Daemon looked between his brother and his niece, havethe courage damn you, cutting his wife open for a son he now does not have. Yet, here a cruel decision, he should do it himself, the King should burn the consequence of his ill made choices himself. Instead, his red faced niece stood shuffling her weight, unable to speak the Valyrian command with only her companion to comfort her. Daemon stepped forward, making his footsteps louder to not startle the girls. 

“They’re waiting for you.” he whispered, how was he to urge such puling babe to burn her own mother. 

“Nyke pendagon lo isse se dorolvie jēda issa lēkia glaesagon, lo kepa istan biare.” Rhaenyra voiced her resentment, the sorrow unfailingly creeping its way into her voice. Wondering if her father truly found happiness in the few hours her brother lived. 

Daemon tutted, a daughter losing faith in her father he recounted “Ziry jorrāelagon ao sir tolī gō mirre.” he hoped to sway her. 

Without Daemon, Viserys would live. The court had long wedged seeds of distrust between them but without his daughter. Viserys would be no man, merely a sack of meat and bones. He needs you now more than ever. 

Rhaenyra scoffed, sniffling before stepping forward. She looked back at her father, hoping he would look at her once, apologise for what he had done. Look at mother, look at her, she wanted to scream as she bore daggers onto Viserys periphery. She then turned to you, tilting her head, not wanting to do this. Someone else should do this, she couldn't, she cant. 

You nodded at her, eyes filled with sorrow over her pain as she shook her head. You looked up at Daemon, unsure how to help her. He, too, nodded at her. Mentally coaxing her to say the word. Rhaenyra turned, her shoulders rose as she took in a deep breath of air, whispering the word under her breath. Never had it tasted so bitter in her mouth as she stammered before looking up at Syrax. 

“Dracarys.” she ordered loud and clear before swiftly turning on her heel to look away as her mount waddles down the rock to blast her dragonfire upon the pyres. 

The pyres burnt in a bright yellow hue as Viserys swayed onto the ball of his feets before promptly walking inside, the court taking their leave one by one as they bowed at Rhaenyra and Daemon before following behind their King. Oberya had been watching you still, you held Rhaenyra in your arms as her tears followed new, nothing– dry to a bone were your eyes and you walked with Rhaenyra back to Visenya’s Hold, Alicent hot behind your heels as you escorted her upstairs. 

“I hate him! I hate him.” She wailed, shaking in your arms as you tried to calm her. Such words were blasphemous, even if they came from the mouth of the Princess Royal. He may be her father but he is foremost the King. Forever bound to the ideals of his Small Council and the Realm.  

Oberya wandered the halls at night, an oil lamp clutched to her hands as she checked any open ante chambers to find you. Peaking through one door then another, cursing you for leaving your bed chambers so late at night. Two other handmaidens also aided her in her task to find you, two plaits and cream shift. Shouldn’t be hard to find in manse this grand and dark.

She stumbled onto another receiving chambers, only this time great with a frown struck prince sitting by the hearth and nursing on strong wines. 

“Forgive my intrusion, my prince.” She apologised, she bowed her head.

“Bother not, I figured you’d be at a brothel my lady.” Daemon quirked his brow, having encountered the Martell bastard in Mysaria’s establishment, a fine specimen in the sea of pretender in tight corseted gown and pinned up hair. She was amusing, a fine jape at his brother’s court. 

“I should be,” she stressed “but it seems my niece is wayward.” 

“At this hour?” He frowned, the little viper, forever pussyfooting past your night guard.

Daemon downed the rest of his wine before standing up, “has there been a search party?” 

“Two handmaidens, three house guards and I, I’m afraid.”  Oberya shook her head, making way for Daemon as he walked past her. 

The groups broke to two, part of them heading to the Great Hall and the other half to Aegon’s Gardens. Discreetly but thoroughly searching through ever room and corner, mindful to not wake any of the other nobles. 

Daemon instead head upstairs, the top of Visenya’s Hold. The lush balconies carved off the volcano looked just over the water, the Ashen Rock and the east end of the city, and gold struck him as he found you leaning over the stone barricade. 

“Princess?” He called out, approaching slowly.

You flinched and then turned, you eyes looked with tears and cheeks red. A tremble running in your fingertips, you forgot all of courtly manners— not a bow nor acknowledgement as you stared at Daemon wide eyed. You had been watching the simmering pyres, the truth engulfing you whole. She was truly gone, just blacked ash of bones and wood with her son. The mother you had known for the longest time. 

“S- she’s truly gone…” you whimpered “She’s dead.” 

The tears finally came, wetting your cheeks like the dried desert weeping for rain, the grief welcomed you with open arms as you fell to your knees.

let me know in the comments if you’d like to be on the tag list.

Thank you for reading

Comments and reblogs are appreciated

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #matt smith #milly alcock #hotd spoilers #hotd smut #river of fire series #alicent x reader #alicent x rhaenyra #viserys x aemma

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Daemon x Rhaenyra

The Rogue Prince and the Realm’s Delight

#i don’t know what this is I’m so sorry 😭 #most of these are from outlander I’m so sorry #one of these quotes is from the tudors lol #listen I just really liked the quotes okay?!? #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #rhaenrya targaryen #daemyra #house of the dragon #nsft ish #emma d'arcy #milly alcock #matt smith #fanfiction #moodboard #they got me about to write some smutty daemyra lmfao

[vulpisnocturna]

Found a Daemyra one shot in my writing folder from November ‘22, after the infamous brothel scene… wondering if I should publish it 😩

EDIT: I did it lol. Here’s the link:

#i blame matt smith for this #and milly alcock #fanfiction #writing #archive of our own #my fic #daemyra #daemon x rhaenyra #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen

[romkole]

High Hopes by @grandlovescheme

Her ugly dress was torn under her knees, exposing dirty white stockings. She wasn’t wearing any shoes. Her feet must have been aching, but she wasn’t fidgeting in pain. She stood still, head held high. Wavy tendrils of silver-blond hair escaping a big, uncomfortable looking hairdo. 

Blue eyes with a familiar spark in them, partly hidden by a hesitant, hopeful stare. 

No, this couldn’t be…

“Uncle,” she spoke at last, lips tilting into a small, shy smile. “H-hi. It’s… me. Rhaenyra.” 

Fuck.

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

#daemyra #daemyra aesthetic #modern daemyra #daemyra fanfic #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #milly alcock #matt smith #modern au #fanfiction

[iris-sistibly]

Daemon Targaryen poured another bottle of wine on his cup and drank all of it at once, the warm sensation brought about by the liquor felt good on his throat. He had been drinking alone, didn't mind the other people around him, paid no attention to the whores who tried to entice him.

It wasn't like him at all.

He couldn't stop thinking about her. Her mesmerising eyes, her alluring smile, the scent of her long, silver hair, the warmth of her body, the taste of her lips.

When he pinned her against the wall and took off half of her clothes, her pulling him closer and grabbing his nape. His lips planting soft kisses on her neck, the heat of their bodies slowly intensifying to the passionate moment they shared.

His mind kept recalling that memory, that night when he almost...almost claimed her for his own.

"Fuck!" he cursed at the back of his mind and smashed the cup onto the table which startled the other customers. He didn't care, he never cared about what other people think, all he cared about was he left her without uttering a single word and disappeared into the crowd. Was he wrong for doing so? Should he had just let themselves indulge like they both wanted?

He is fucking Prince Daemon Targaryen! Brother to King Viserys, first of his name. He could bed any woman he wants, but she wasn't just anyone. She is Rhaenyra, not some low born prostitute he'd pay to fuck then leave after. He was a formidable warrior, but with her he was defenseless. She bears no magic, but he has always been enchanted by her beauty. He is stubborn, yet he couldn't resist her.

He strives to be a king, and he desires her to be his queen.

He wants to be with her, and build a life together. Make the kingdom prosper, and sire as many children as they want.

But Rhaenyra's father would never allow it. Viserys was adamant to wed his daughter yes, but certainly not to him. For the very reason that he was already married to his bronze bitch. Daemon shook his head, Aegon the Conqueror had two wives, Maegor the Cruel had several. How is him taking Rhaenyra to wife any different?

His relationship with Viserys may not have been as pleasant as they both would have liked, but they share the same blood. Thus their bond as siblings will always be there, but the fact that he couldn't be with Rhaenyra because his own brother forbids it was frustrating.

He was a prince, yet he is denied with everything he wants. The crown, the iron throne, and the woman of his desire.

And with that, Daemon drowned himself in liquor once more.

The Aftermath of an Almost Sinful Night (by: Iris)

*

I couldn't get over with the brothel scene, and I've been thinking of what went on Daemon's mind after he almost did the deed with Rhaenyra, and Viserys confronting him after.

Also, I am writing this in the middle of a fucking thunderstorm and I am kinda freaking out so I turned to writing to ease my fears (little fun fact about me: I hate thunderstorms since I was little and yes, I still get anxious when shit like this happens, so I either write, read a novel or listen to music for comfort 😁).

#fanfiction #hbo series #house of the dragon #fire and blood #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys i targaryen #matt smith #milly alcock #paddy considine #daemon x rhaenyra #daenyra #daemyra #whichever you prefer

[icefrye19]

A WINX’s DAWN

Fayenyra Mikaelson is the youngest daughter of Klaus Mikaelson and sister to Hope Mikaelson. Along with her sister and friends, they will face challenges and fight against evil to maintain peace in the world.

𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐒1

Introduction

Full Psychological Assessment

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

#legacies #original character #wattpad #klausdaughter #hope mikaelson #hopemikealsonhasayoungersister #fate the winx saga #fanfiction writer #milly alcock #crossover #danielle rose russell #winx saga #winx oc #winx club

[stefivare]

Daemon and Rhaenyra ❤️

Not related but if you’re interested in Harry Potter and Vikings fanfics, both are on my Wattpad:

- Freya Ironside, Gifted by the Gods by stefivare

- Hogwarts Memories by stefivare

#daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #queen rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x daemon #rhaenyra x criston #rhaenyra edit #Targaryen #fanfic #fanfiction #freya ironside #wattpad #harry potter fanfic rec #house targaryen #a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #game of thrones #milly alcock #matt smith

[brekkersnerd]

(In)Perfect Family

Introduction:

We all know Lewis Nixon the intelligence officer, E Company, 2nd Battalion, 506th Parachute Infantry, 101st Airborne Division, but we don't know Lewis Nixon or his personal life. This is the story of Nix. Growing up, joining the Army, his time in the war, and his life afterwards.

*Please note: This is based solely on Band of Brothers! I am not in any way, shape or form, trying to say that this is how he grew up, or write any truth to his personal life at all! This is purely fanfiction, meaning it's for fun. I may use real information that I find, but purely for story accuracy with the language, background, etc. I was not alive in any of the time that is covered in this story, so I do have to do some research. And this is based on an edit that I made and then I really wanted to write about it. I did not write this disrespect anyone. Any and all rights to HBO, Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg, and any other affiliates. Thanks, hope you enjoy! As a heads up, this story is rated as mature. It will deal with mature topics. It will not include smut as it's not what I write, I'm just not good at it.

Edited to add: I've decided to keep Kelly Reilly as Doris's faceclaim, only because I used her in my edit. So that might not be historically accurate, but this is fanfiction, so ig I can use whoever I want.

Ron Livingston as Lewis Nixon

Skander Keynes as Young Lewis Nixon

Kelly Reilly as Doris Ryer Nixon

Maia Mitchell as Blanche Nixon

Tom Cruise as Stanhope Nixon

Milly Alcock as Young Doris Ryer Nixon

Tom Selleck as Lewis Nixon I

Mila Kunis as Sally Nixon

Helena Bonham Carter as Blanche Ryer

Emma Watson as Marjorie Green

Ben Barnes as Joseph Reed

#band of brothers #fanfic #lewis nixon #family

[bi-disaster-yn]

My Most Sacred Vow

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!Reader

Summary: When Reader is betrothed to Daemon, she and Rhaenyra promise themselves to each other with a secret wedding.

A/N: I’m gonna miss Milly as Rhaenyra so much my gf :(( also is anyone else feeling Emily Carey as Alicent? She’s beautiful too and I can’t find fics for her so pls send me recs (or let me know if ppl want Alicent fics…)

Your wedding to Daemon was only days away. To your family and to the rest of the realm this seemed to be a great honour, marrying into the royal family and becoming a princess. However, to you it was a great tragedy. He was the wrong Targaryen and only you and Rhaenyra knew that.

Had the world been different or if either you or your beloved Rhaenyra had been born a boy then you would have put pressure on your family to secure a match with her instead. You loved her with such an intense passion that you a purpose and a reason to breathe. To know Rhaenyra was to love her and you knew her better than anyone.

To marry Daemon would be a fiction and an insult to your true feelings.

Rhaenyra had taken the news of your betrothal particularly badly. She didn’t speak to her father or uncle for weeks and avoided pouring your own father’s cup at small council meetings. At night, you would sneak into her room and you would cling to each other desperately, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to do this once you were married. 

It made her feel sick. The thought of Daemon’s hands and mouth on you where hers should be. Another cruel twist of fate having been born a woman. She pledged that when she became queen, she would change things and steal you back from her uncle. It consumed her thoughts beyond reason and kept her awake to ungodly hours.

Then it occurred to her, there was something she could still do to claim you. Marriage itself was nothing but a contract on paper. The vows only meant something when they were acted upon. If anything, Daemon certainly was not going to remain loyal to you. Nor was he going to play the role of the dutiful husband. Marriage is a political arrangement, he had told Rhaenyra. If that were true, then he surely would have no problem with his niece taking his bride as her own.

Rhaenyra decided that you would have your own wedding, promising yourselves to one another before you would have to leave and start your apocryphal role as Daemon’s wife.

Once Rhaenyra had something in her head, it was impossible for her to dispose of the idea. Not only that, she didn’t do things half-heartedly. This had to be special. It had to be perfect.

You were only too happy to accept Rhaenyra’s proposal, which came after a peaceful afternoon ride on Syrax. In her riding leathers, Rhaenyra had gotten down on one knee and presented you with a necklace that had been in the Targaryen family for centuries. She proclaimed that while in public you would continue the Targaryen name with Daemon but in private you should devote yourself to her.

You kept it on always, hidden underneath your dress at all times and close to your heart. In times of anxiety or distress, you would clutch on to it, feeling comforted by Rhaenyra’s love for you and proud that you would get to take her as your wife.

***

The twilight settling brought a light breeze, causing the sea of tiny flames dancing on the candles to accelerate in rhythm. A slight chill accompanied the breeze but any effect it may have on you or Rhaenyra was set-off by the warmth in each other.

Allies within the Red Keep entrusted and alibis created, you had set out on your divine mission together on the back of Syrax.

The cave was a nostalgic choice for a wedding, it was a place where Rhaenyra would often come as a child once she’d learnt how to ride a dragon. You were the only other person who had borne witness to it. Much like the ceremony you were hosting together tonight, it was your little secret.

She had forged a temple so that you could announce your love to one another, complete with candles and markings in the wall of your favourite poetry in high Valyrian. At the entrance to the cave, she had set up blankets and pillows so that you could spend your wedding night together under the stars. In amongst the ceremonial decorations there lay a dragon egg which was her wedding gift to you. After-all, this was the night that you were to become a dragon.

You looked around with adoration before looking back at her, having never felt more confident. She smiled back at you, slightly blushing but all the same proud of herself for the efforts she had went to for the occasion. 

Her dress was made of gold satin. In fact, it was her very best but this was a special occasion and was befitting for it. She liked the luxury and status of gold, which made it a fine colour for her to be married in. Slung over her arm was a traditional Targaryen cloak made of black satin and had the famous three-headed dragon sigil sewn into it in red. When she wrapped it round you then you would become a Targaryen days earlier than the rest of the world expected.

Your own dress was red with black detailing, with a neckline low enough that it would show your necklace. In keeping with Westerosi tradition where a bride would wear the colours of her husband’s house, you intended this for Rhaenyra. 

Luckily, the seamstress didn’t question your choice for your new dress, assuming that it was a bid to please Daemon. She complimented your choices and would spread word of your commitment to the match; a fortunate coincidence to allow you to keep up appearances.

“Ready?” Rhaenyra almost whispered. It was unnecessary as there wouldn’t be another soul for miles. But the setting was just too intimate and too special that she didn’t want to ruin it with her usual outspokenness.

“Ready.” You answered, grinning at her and feeling safe in her presence.

Rhaenyra took the cloak from her arm and wrapped it round your frame, tying it together delicately at the front. She indulged in a moment to take you in, wearing her house colours and her cloak all for her. It was mesmerising, that someone she loved could be so devoted to her. Daemon certainly did not deserve you.   

“With this cloak I take you under my protection.” She started, taking your hands in hers.  

“I promise to love no other and take you as you are. I will serve the realm and the people but I will always bear you in mind. I promise you first refusal, and that you will always have a place by my side. I will protect you and care for you. I will give you my bannermen, ships or any future dragons I may have should you wish it. I will devote myself to you entirely. I promise this as my most sacred vow.” 

Rhaenyra was confident and poised in her speech, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. Although it was rehearsed, it had clearly been agonised over and it meant everything to you to hear those words come from her. It marked her incredible devotion that she usually conveyed with touch or acts of service.

You smiled tearily at her and it earned a little giggle from Rhaenyra, clearly proud of herself for inspiring such emotion from you.

“How did I do?” She asked with pride, clearly aware of her own success.

“Very good.” You smiled back, gently brushing your tears away with your thumb and readying yourself for your own vows.

“I promise that I will devote myself to you entirely. I will take a husband in name only but everything else I give unto you. Any children I may bear are to be considered yours. I will serve you as my Princess and future Queen before I consider my husband and will always put your needs first. I promise this as my most sacred vow.”

Your delivery was more direct than you thought it would be due to your choked throat. Rhaenyra seemed pleased with your speech, content to have been given her proper place within your heart.

The princess placed her hands on either side of your face and finalised the marriage with pulling you in for a deep and loving kiss. Kissing Rhaenyra was always stunning and natural and true. She was tender, holding her hands against your cheeks gently while yours found her waist, pulling her as close as humanly possible.

A wedding is intended to bind two souls into one forever. As the kiss deepened, the further your souls and hearts connected and forged in love. The fire of the dragon now burned within you, surging through your veins the longer that Rhaenyra held you and would remain there for all time coming. You were a Targaryen now and you were bounded to your love for life.

As she pulled you down on to the pillows beneath you, she mumbled something against your lips in between kisses.

“Hello, wife.”

#rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #young rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen fanfiction #Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!reader #Rhaenyra Targaryen x female reader #queer reader #lgbt reader #daemon targaryen #daemon Targaryen x reader #Rhaenyra Targaryen one shot #Rhaenyra Targaryen imagine #milly alcock x reader #milly alcock #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd #hotd season 1 #game of thrones fanfic

[themotherofblood]

On a more happy note. I’m writing my first Daemyra only fic and it’s YJHD inspired and I’m so excited!! I haven’t done Bollywood fics in a while so this one is gonna be so much fun

I’m trying to translate the “Mujhe Tumse Pyaar Ho Jaye Ga Phir Se” scene.

#bollywood hotd #bollywood ruie #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #unrequited crush #daemyra #pro daemyra #matt smith #milly alcock #emma d’arcy #house of the dragon fanfiction #Spotify

[romkole]

SANTA’S ELF AU!

Viserys is Santa and his daughter Rhaenyra is his beloved elf. The main problem of their family is his brother Daemon who was exiled from the North Pole. So, when Rhaenyra is sent to collect children’s letters to Santa, he finds her and tags along.

#crackish #comedy #christmas fanfiction #christmas au #christmas prompts #santa elf #daemyra #modern au #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #hotd #daemon targaryen #milly alcock #matt smith #daemyra aesthetic

[tulsajesusfreakblog]

All of the love in the world

chapter one | performance

masterlist

Performance is the attraction that an artist presents, in a limited time and space, in front of an audience. The word derives from the Old French parformer, parformance, to make, fulfill, and from the Latin performáre, to give form, to establish. It is a construction, a presentation, a montage in which artist and audience shape the work together. The momentary nature of the performance gives it an ephemeral subtlety, an almost desperate sensation of art that vanishes into thin air.

Painters want to illustrate eternity, writers want to live forever. Performers are aware that no pigment is durable enough. They know the mutability of words and know that not even mineral life will be absolved.

Magnolia Gold was a little bit of all three, depending on day and mood. “I’m not an artist because I was born in New Orleans,” she used to say. “I was born here because I am an artist. And I accept my fate as the ancient heroes of Greek tragedies.” But no one ever knew whether she was serious, acting, or simply drunk.

She walked the streets of New Orleans as if she walked the halls of a museum. For her, that city was the quintessential performance, a great and glorious installation through which crowds roamed in small, explosive spectacles.

She tried to dilute her pain with solvent and alcohol. When oil paint proved useless and she felt too pathetic drinking alone, she left her dorm and headed to a party. She used to avoid the Abattoir — to avoid Marcel Gerard —, but her boyfriend had insisted so much that she accompany him that she gave up on counterarguing.

But she wouldn't stand a party full of vampires sober. The colorful lights and loud music seemed to come from another dimension. She was already so drunk that she could barely stand, but she managed to climb onto the table and raise her glass in a toast. Few people paid attention to her words, busy with their own fun. “This is the city of death!” — She screamed.

“Fires, floods! — She continued, theatrically — We can laissez le bon temps rouler, but we turn life here into one big party to distract ourselves from the fact that we are all going to die.”

Her boyfriend, Tom, and her roommate, Jules, tried to get her away from the table, without success. They asked her to stop and she ignored them. Her voice was slow and choked, slightly out of control, but she enunciated each syllable as if she were the best actress in town.

"I? I think that's the best of us. Death dances silently in the shadow of each one of us, and she doesn't give a damn. So why should we give a damn about her?”

“That's enough, Nolly,” said Tom. “You're embarrassing me.” Jules held her waist tightly and lifted her off the table, her improvised stage. She complained, but gave up trying to stop them.. She was tired and wanted the comfort of her bed, preferably right now. She leaned on her two companions, who carried her to the exit.

Once, she turned her head, looking out at the dancing crowd and then out to the balcony, where Marcel watched everything. She felt the arrogance of that imposing posture and resentment churned her stomach. Beside him, however, was a man she had never seen before. Also imposing and observing the party below him, although he didn't look pleased. For a second, his gaze stopped at her and held her as if he were capturing her. There was a strength in that look that pulled her towards him, sucked away the last bit of self-determination she still had. A hypnosis beyond hypnosis. He was a vampire, yet she felt something familiar from him, something undetectable. But everything was lost when she was taken from the party and the distance between them freed her from that look.

They walked many blocks, took two streetcars to the college, and she continued feeling those eyes fixed on her, as if any time she turned around she would see them.

It was only the next morning that, as the revelation of invisible ink, she realized that the familiarity emanating from him was the beast hidden beneath skin. A werewolf, without a doubt, a vampire, for sure. Klaus Mikaelson, definitely.

#all of the love in the world #aotlitw #fanfiction #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson fic #the originals #the originals fanfiction #milly alcock

[romkole]

songwriter! Rhaenyra/ CEO! Daemon

Snow falls, snow sings

#daemyra #modern au #christmas au #christmas fanfiction #too many tropes #songwriter au #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #daemyra aesthetic #milly alcock #matt smith #house of the dragon #hotd