#fuck daemon too i hate that bitch

[thewingedwolf]

“boros had nothing against women”

i’m gonna shit in this man’s shoes, and also criston’s, alicent’s, otto’s, aegon’s, aemond’s, and especially viserys’

#me every two pages in fire & blood: i hate the - #everyone who follows me: -the greens yes we fucking know you hate the greens #i have decided to tag aegon as aegon the usurper from now on. i cannot wait for his bitch ass to die. #rani liveblogs asoiaf #anti greens #just the dumbest most bloodthirsty idiots alive. ‘oh daemon would have been maegor come again’ AND YOU ARE SAYING AEGON AND AEMOND ARENT???? #GIVE ME A FUCNING BREAK #it is *just* sexism. that’s fucjing it. any argument against rhaenyra in favor of the greens is just sexism. it is literally the exact #sexism that sansa faces!!!!!!!!! jon is a good brother *bc* he refuses to steal her rights. E R G O aegon and alicent are awful!!!! #i won’t hear another argument. you are simply wrong. #boros wants the war to not get too terrible but let’s aemond chase lucerys knowing damn well aemond wants to kill him. stupid bitch.

[mellowpainternut]

Writers maked Aegon a pedo just because Mushroom said it "99.9% of his words are lie" And I don't have any problem with that ok?

But if they gonna make him a pedo and make people hate him, they also should make Mushroom others words true too.

They should make Rhaenyra have her half sister and step mother raped.

They should make Jace a cheater.

They should make Daemon a pedo rapist who cheat on his wife and then abandon his family to sleep with a 17 y/o.

If they really want to give us the right to choose our team, then they should not discriminate.

They should not cover blacks mistakes and only make greens look bad.

It's not a fairytale book about love and a strong princess who wants to save the world.

It's not about a feminist story with a lesbian relationship between two little girl.

This story is about two fucked up siblings that ruined Targaryens.

It's about two greedy, spoiled and cruel siblings who fought for iron throne.

It's not about Alicent and Rhaenyra, it's about Aegon and Rhaenyra.

It's not about a romance between Rhaenyra and Daemon. It's about how their relationship was toxic and how they used each other.

It's not about a hero and villain, it's about two super villain who been nothing but cruel.

It's about a dumb narcissistic woman and a broken mad man.

It's not about beauty and love. It's about blood and war.

The whole point of this book is to show how awful both side were and why because of two cunt house Targaryen fall.

Aegon wasn't a coward who wanted to escape. He did everything to protect his family. He was the one who fought for his family and survived, he was the one who survived the dragon fire while Rhaenyra literally did nothing and watched as her family died. He was the one who lost his everything for something that he never wanted but was forced to accept because he wanted to protect his family. He lost his family that he tried to protect, he lost his children, he lost his pride Sunfyre, he lost his body, he lost his mind, and he was betrayed. He was the most tragic character in the story yet in the show he's just a pedo rapist.

Rhaenyra was a fucking liar, a whore who opened her legs for any man that she liked, a fucking narcissist, she was literally female Maegor yet they maked her the most tragic who only became cruel after her child died even though she was always a spoiled and dumb woman who just wanted to kill anybody who said true about her bastards. Yet they maked her a fucking saint. A boss bitch with her womanly power. Someone who can do no wrong.

I'm so fucking tired of this show.

#anti hotd #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti daemon targaryen #anti team black #anti house of the dragon #pro team green #team green #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #alicent hightower #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Canvas of imagination (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: On the eve of Rhaenyra's wedding, Daemon decides the best gift he can give to the father of the bride is a dreamer. A shame said dreamer does not seem to share the joy of the occasion.

Warnings: Kidnapping. Period typical misogyny. Violence. Unflattering depiction of characters (You might hate me for this)

A/N: Remember please, Daemon is an unreliable narrator. Here is where things start to get dark. I researched genetics for this and ended up really insecure. Read the previous part here.

There are many ways of silencing women. Murder is, of course, one. It’s not an elegant solution, but it is an effective one. It ensures the victim takes her secrets to the grave. Daemon likes to think himself more elegant than that.

There is, too, the possibility of a ruined reputation. But that strategy is one that is only effective towards women of a certain standing. You can hardly ruin what are already damaged goods, and a bastard certainly counts as damaged goods.

Daemon still could chuck you off Caraxes mid-flight. Yet, it does not seem like a good idea, either. Each one of your servants saw you get chained to his saddle. Not even Viserys’s intervention could save him from the angry mob of commoners that would await his return to the Vale.

Besides, he likes you there, mounted on his dragon. For once, quiet, too scared of screaming and disturbing Caraxes. Daemon likes the lack of noise, but he likes your presence much more. It would be foolish to silence a dreamer forever.

You need other kinds of chains. To tie you to him. Silencing you, when he does not want to hear. One often used for Targaryen women.

Marriage. A Bronze Bitch for another. But not exactly, is it? Not if you can truly see the future.

Perhaps this was meant to happen, then. As a way of honoring his ancestors. Grabbing a pretty maid, one with Valyrian gifts and…

Well. Children are another kind of chain, right? He is still not sold on the perks of bedding you. You are wrong. Too dark, too different. Nothing like Rhaenyra, and slightly older than her. But Daemon knows the children you will birth him will be strong. The gift on you is, after all.

To be able to look so far into the future speaks of a power unseen before. Targaryens have not been blessed by many dreamers in the last generations, and the few times they were, their gifts were fickle and weak. Not far enough to allow them to see further than days. The last time someone was able to look further was in the age of Aegon the Conqueror.

It must mean Valyrian descent. Nothing else is an acceptable answer. Even if you don’t look it.

Daemon mounts behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You feel soft in his arms. Perhaps bedding you will not be as bad. He had been afraid that you would be like Rhea. Those inquisitive eyes of her, the body as hard as the body of any man. They were not features he enjoyed on a female partner. It always turned him off.

It was not that he had refused to consummate the marriage. He wasn’t able to bed her, the awful bitch. Not only were her features off-putting, but her attitude. She was constantly trying to sit on his hips, push him down, and he couldn’t stand it. Daemon felt trapped. Emasculated.

He had to chase the shame, the powerlessness away, somehow. That was how he got started fucking whores, collecting maidenheads. It was much better when women were maidens. Easier. He likes the contrasts, Daemon has realized. Half women, half children are always more entertaining to play with.

You are not Rhea. You feel different in his arms. Your body is soft, all sweet limbs. There are no harsh muscles on your arms, and you smell like fresh baked pastries. Rhea always smelled of horse.

You are a girl, not a warrior like your sister was. Yet, you share her wild spirit. All the delicious curves of womanhood are already formed, a delicious pair of tits and hips that could drive any man to insanity.

Your parentage is a bit more undesirable, though. As the daughter of a whore, your innocence could be sullied. Daemon would have to ask if you were passed around when younger. He doubted it, but just in case. If you had not, bedding you would be the most fun he had in years. Open-minded, hot-blooded, but pure. It was not often you found that in a woman.

You try to squirm, but are too well bound. Getting too comfortable for his liking.

“Soves. ” He orders. Caraxes obeys. You shriek in terror, and Daemon hugs you harder against him. That, too, he likes. The helplessness, the honest reaction of someone who was denied her birthright. The amazement, once you settle down and notice that Caraxes will not drop you.

Riding Caraxes is always a thrill. It’s even more thrilling when he has a captive audience. There is something about it that does it for him. Showing others the might of true Targaryens always makes him proud.

He wants to show you all the things you have missed, being born of a whore and a Royce. It’s clear you don’t belong here, among the bronze piles of the Vale. You belong with him, on dragonback. And no one is taking you away from him.

The servants, your servants, according to the Bronze Bitch’s will, can only watch as the dragon rises in the air. No one dares deny Targaryens anything, not when faced with the truth of their strength.

Daemon perches his chin right on top of your head, so close his chest is flush with your back. Your screams do not bother him. You might be terrified, after a life spent living on the ground. But Targaryens are born to be in the skies. You will get used to it.

“Oh, Lady Cuffs, you have much to learn.” He kisses your temple, once you have screamed your throat raw and finally quieted down.

The first time he had ridden Caraxes, Daemon had, too, screamed until his voice gave. He had thought back then, like many Targaryens did, that if his egg didn’t hatch, he would get no dragon. The moment is clear in his memory. Heart beating loud in his chest, screaming commands in High Valyrian, and the absolute certainty that Caraxes was going to burn him to a crisp. Then, as he came down from sheer terror to amazement, he understood why his egg didn’t hatch.

It was a lesson. To take what he wanted, what was his by right. Targaryens were conquerors, not whiny children. It was what had got him thinking about Lady Laena, in the first place. The amount of confidence one needed to claim a dragon that big, it spoke of a power within.

Not as yours was, of course. You may lack the confidence, but you had power in spades. Dreamers were often like that. Or they were supposed to be, according to his studies. Daenys had been. A fragile little thing, scared of shadows and set on leaving Valyria behind. It had been what saved them, in the end.

Daemon wonders what it must be like to be haunted by terrors in your sleep. Some real, some imagined. How could one possible tell the difference between the two? It would lead a fragile mind to insanity.

What had it done to you? Seeing your sister’s death, thinking it a nightmare, and then watch it come to life in front of your eyes?

Fear. Horror. A cornered animal reaction, wanting to fight an opponent that could crush you like a bug if he so wished. Your loyalty to Rhea was commendable, though.

The thought of you having to go through that makes him uncomfortable. Something about the death of a sibling upsets him. Viserys. Oh, Viserys. Can’t live with him, but can’t live without him, either.

No. He needs a distraction. He is not willing to go down that road now.

“Dracarys!” Daemon screams, fighting to project his voice over the wind. As expected, you flinch and let out a tiny scream. He hides his smirk in your hair. He wonders if you would squeal like that when he took you.

A bit of fear makes for a better fuck. Lovers tend to turn pliant in the face of pain. Women's cunts flutter delightfully when choked. And you are already so responsive.

“This cannot be happening.” You mutter, under your breath. Your voice sounds small and confused. Lost. “This defies all the laws.”

“Targaryens have married sisters before,” Daemon speaks over your ear. Despite knowing that's not how dreamers work, he can't help but taunt you. It's amusing to him, how you struggle and huff. “You must have seen this already. You will make a good wife, in time.”

“I am not a dreamer!” You scream, and if he could see your face now, he would bet you are scowling. It matters not, really. Whatever you say. You would do anything to get him to let you go.

Daemon knows the truth. He has done his investigation about you. It would be no good, if he were mistaken and presented Viserys with something less. His good gesture would be ruined.

You would earn him his forgiveness. Daemon is willing to share you with Viserys, if that's what Viserys wants. He wants to keep you, so Daemon wouldn't gift you to him. But share you? It's a good gesture to show the honesty of his words.

Let it not be said that Daemon Targaryen is not humble in victory.

“Deny it all you want.” Daemon turns a finger over the middle of your back, making you shiver and try to move away from the touch. Oh, such a fierce spirit. A shame it's wasted, with how well you are tied to the saddle. “You have some Valyrian blood in you.”

“I do not!” You scream, and tilt your head to the side to glare at him. You have pretty eyes and the most enchanting nose. Closer to a goddess than a woman. How can you not be a Targaryen?

Your hair is the wrong shade. So are your eyes. But most of the time, First Men features overpower Targaryen ones. Dammed your father. Useless rat, that Yohn Royce. But at least he had given him you.

“You will birth me silver haired babes.” Daemon can do the math. With you being half Valyrian, the odds of you giving him what he wants are higher. He places his hand on your stomach, sneaking it behind the apron and touching the soft linen dress you wear.

Daemon imagines what it will be like, to see you swell with his child. The skin over your womb is warm and soft. You are young, closer to Rhaenyra's age than his. You look healthy and strong. A good environment for a child to grow in. And by the look of your bosom, you would produce good milk, too.

The thought makes him suddenly hungry. His cock twitches in interest. Ah. Good to know that your coloring won’t bring forth the same performance issues Rhea’s had.

This time, you squirm harder. Your ass rolls against his hips. Daemon rolls his hips against you, delighting in the friction. "Oh, you temptress.” He laughs.

He can't wait to have you, pinned under him and forcing you to take and take until his seed breeds true. How you would struggle, hips trying to escape him before surrendering to the sheer pleasure of it all.

“You are disgusting!” You buck against him, all wild mare. You have yet to be mounted and it shows. He bets once he does, you will be all sweet. Daemon is not cruel enough to deny you the pleasure. But you seem upset, and so he tries to reassure you.

“Just think, how strong, how true our children will be. With the blood of Old Valyria, flowing through their veins.”

It seems like the thought is not as reassuring for you as it is for him, since you start tearing up. He will have to tread more carefully. It’s clear your time with the Bronze Bitch has affected you. Perhaps, too, growing up in a whore’s house. You must have some strange ideas of women not needing marriage, or men, to lead their lives.

It was good, that Rhea got you when she had. You could have been sold or auctioned like any other woman. Taken up the profession of your mother. But you hadn’t. He knows it by the way you flinch, when he trails his hands over your ribs, when he presses his lips to your temple. Whores are used to touches like those. They melt into them. Not you.

“I’m not Valyrian!” You scream, trashing. Daemon smooths your hair down, tenderly. Perhaps this will soften you, he thinks. Many bastards share the longing for learning about their origins, after all. You should be no different.

“Your mother was, though.”

“What? No, she wasn't!” Your shrill tone makes him flinch. Gods, what a pair of lungs you have. And you are so set on disguising your origins, too. As if Daemon can’t tell. As if he can’t recognize one of his own when he sees them.

“I asked the servants about you.” He squeezes your shoulder, trying to sound encouraging. He wonders what it must be like, to carry so deep a shame you are set on denying the obvious. If Daemon had been born of a whore, without his Targaryen blood, he would be ashamed too. “They said you bathed every day. Only whores do that. And you don’t keep male company.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Your voice comes out high and questioning, confused. Oh, his poor, sheltered girl. Thinking your behavior was normal.

“You must have learned it somewhere.” He brushes his thumb against the shell of your ear. It’s a tiny thing, and soft. You give a sweet shiver, and it confirms his suspicions. You have not been touched in such a way before. Not a whore. Only the daughter of one. "Your father was said to frequent a brothel in King’s Landing, one that I’m well acquainted with. They only have Valyrian stock.”

You splutter, and whip your head to the side. You are not allowed much movement, with your binds. But gods, you try. The sliver of your face he can see is twisted in righteous anger. Similar to when he confessed to finishing the Bronze Bitch.

“Stock? How can you refer to women like that!” And it comes out so righteous, so fierce. His little warrior. Yes, it’s clear he is right about your origins. No one else would launch themselves in such a passionate defense of whores. A shame, he can’t seem to resist to riling you up.

“Oh, I have much lovelier names for women. I called your sister the Bronze Bitch.”

You let out a fierce little scream, now bucking and twisting and shifting, trying to get any kind of retribution for the slight. What a joy you must be in the sheets, all that unbridled force and passion, turning into a single objective. You just have to learn to aim it right.

“Don’t you dare speak of her like that! She is the most…” And you choke up a sob, realizing that Rhea was, not is. You do not speak the words, curling into yourself like a scared child. Hurt and sad for the first time since he took you.

“Was.” Daemon says, very quietly, and this time he is unable to distract himself from the thought. Daemon thinks of Viserys, of how angry he would be were someone to hurt him. No matter if they had parted in anger, no matter if they had not spoken a word.

He hugs you to him. You fight him, at first, but then you are sobbing too hard, too panicked to do anything about it. He presses a kiss to your nape. Even in tears and sweaty with your efforts, you smell perfect. All sweet pure maiden.

Eventually, your body sags. Daemon wonders if you accepted your fate or merely fell asleep. He doesn’t ask. The rest of the ride is uneventful. You wake up, later on, squirming in your bounds before sagging in defeat. No more words are exchanged between the two of you.

Landing is quite the interesting experience. Lyonel Strong, wearing the Hand's brooch. Next to him, stands the Kingsguard and a couple of Citywatchs.

“Is that a serving girl?” Crispin, Chris, whatever his name is, asks. He must think himself so sly, muttering under his breath.

“You were vanished.” Lyonel deadpans, eyeing you with vague interest. You scowl at him and tug on your bonds, again. Admirable persistence.

“Ah, Lyonel.” He gets off the saddle and carefully unchains you from it, making sure that your hands remain bound. Daemon keeps a tight grip on the chain from your cuffs, as he pulls you down into his arms. You kick and scream. The Kingsguard look vaguely concerned, but the gold cloaks don't even blink. They had been his men a few years back. They are used to such things.

He is not getting any younger, Daemon realizes. With you, he might need to get a better training regime because he is winded from the struggle. It's almost thrilling. You will keep him on his toes.

Daemon addresses Lyonel once again, dragging you forward.

“Summon Viserys, would you? I have something to show him.”

Good thing it’s not Otto Hightower anymore, or else he would have been detained on the spot. Lyonel is slightly softer to him, too honor-bound to let his personal feelings get in the way.

“Another of your whores?” The man asks, face unchanged. He would look at ease were it not for the way he is pressing his lips together in a grim line. No doubt remembering the Mysaria episode.

You keep struggling, rubbing your poor wrists raw. Daemon will have to tend to that later.

“Help! Help! Please!” You plead to Lyonel, once he is close enough. His lips twitch. Ah, the Strongs. Always ready to jump in rescue of a fair maiden. Your cries seem to be weakening the resolve of the Hand, and Daemon can’t have that.

Daemon places a possessive arm over your hips, showing you off. The possessive gesture will distract Lyonel from his rescue attempt, he is sure. No one gets between a Prince and his lovers, willing or not.

“No, actually. This time, the Lady is still a maiden. Although she won’t be much longer.” He smirks.

You flinch, your whole body tensing under his grip. Lyonel looks torn. He can’t order Daemon to let go of you, as for all he knows, you are but a serving girl. If you were a Lady, what he is doing might mean war. No one here cares about commoners.

Surprisingly, your rescuer is another. The dornish knight, jumping in, without the bow of his commander or the Lord Hand.

“I’ll go get the King, Lord Hand.” Good gods, what were they teaching the dornish these days? Not an ounce of respect on that one. He was getting too cocky for Daemon’s liking. He might have unseated him, but he lacked manners.

Daemon glares at Lyonel. Lyonel glares right back. The Kingsguard square behind Lyonel, menacingly, but the City Watch remains undecided on the side. Daemon grips your cuffs harder.

Crispin, Chris, whatever, comes out again after a few minutes, with an aggravated looking Viserys. You start shrieking, again, and trying harder to escape. No one pays you any mind.

“I told you I didn’t want to see you again.” Viserys says, but his eyes crinkle. He has cooled down. Daemon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He still has everything to play for. Forgiveness is on the way.

“I think she might earn my forgiveness.” He tugs at your cuffs, bringing you slightly forward. You scowl, fiercely. “A gift, brother.”

“You come to offer me a whore? You are insane. Or drunk. Or both.” Viserys arches an eyebrow, but takes a good look at you. Daemon can’t blame him for it. You are a pretty thing, young and healthy.

Despite someone who claims offense at being offered a whore, Viserys surely looks interested. He steps closer to him, trapping you between them both. It’s Viserys, in quite the bold move, who tilts your chin up with a finger. You snarl at him, bucking backwards and right into Daemon’s chest.

“Careful. She bites. Special breed, from the Vale. All bitches.” And it’s not even funny, but it makes Viserys laugh, and that’s all that matters to him. Viserys’s laughter prompts the rest of the sycophants knights to do so as well. Only Lyonel and the dornish man remain disapproving.

“I’m quite busy at the moment, brother.” Viserys steps back, giving Daemon a long look. Unable not to twist the knife because otherwise they wouldn’t be related, he adds. “I’m in the middle of planning a wedding.”

“Ah. Congratulations are in order, then. Think of this as a wedding gift to the father of the bride.” Daemon pushes you forward, and then, insistently, to kneel. You resist, impudent little thing that you are. He pushes harder, until you kneel in front of Viserys with a sullen expression. “What better omen for a marriage than a little dreamer?”

Viserys goes suddenly serious, the hint of a smile at his antics long gone. This time, when he looks at you, his eyes are much more searching. First, to your hair. Then, your eyes. Then, to his face, incredulous.

“If this is your idea of a joke, Daemon…”

Daemon gives him a look. He would not joke about it, knowing how much Viserys has longed to be connected to that side of their heritage. He never understood it. Dreams were a powerful tool, but could be hard to differentiate from just nightmares. And what had made them conquerors had not been dreams, but dragons. That had been the part that interested him.

They had talked, once, of sharing a woman. Back when they were much younger, much less troubled. He tried to let that shine in his eyes, too. This was not something he was keeping to himself, it was a gift to his brother. If Viserys asked, Daemon would say yes in a heartbeat. Anything to make him happier. To protect him. Your dreams might not get him another kingdom, but would help keep Viserys safe and secure Rhaenyra's claim.

The silence stretched. Then, Viserys, looking absolutely fascinated and dumbfounded, stepped aside.

“Inside the throne room. Anyone else, leave us!”

As the guards scrambled to obey, Daemon tugged you inside. Viserys entered the room first, and grabbed the chain, as Daemon made sure to close the door after them. Working together with a fluidity not seen since the days of their youth.

Daemon smiled. Not even a day in your company, and you were already fixing things in the way he had wanted you to.

Viserys let go of your chain, eyeing you with quite a bit of precaution. All for naught. Instead of attacking, you tried to flee. Daemon grabbed you, and spun you to face him.

“You say she is a dreamer.” Viserys sits down on the throne, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“She is. The bastard sister of my newly deceased wife.” Daemon can’t help but boast. He is proud of finding you. Of the smile that has formed on Viserys face. “You know how it was. Yohn Royce and his precious Silver Dragon.”

“Lady Rhea is dead?” Viserys frowns. Still, he doesn’t look too upset. Perhaps a bit angry, but Daemon knows he will forgive him for it. What is the murder of a woman no one loved to the acquisition of a dreamer?

“He killed her!” You scream, unable to help yourself. Ah. Curse him, he was mistaken. Someone loved the Bronze Bitch. But it didn’t count. You were her sister and she had rescued you from a brothel. You were morally obligated to. It didn’t count.

“Shut up, little girl. I didn’t.” Which, yes, he had, but it would be better to give Viserys plausible deniability. Safer that way.

“Yes, you did. I saw.” You grin at him, menacingly. Daemon arches an eyebrow. It seemed your nap had given you the energy to be defiant. Again. Good gods, you were like a child. Having to be put to bed, pacified, taken care of. On and on the list went. Daemon was not sure that he was ready for the responsibility of parenting a recently legitimized Targaryen. Your manners were atrocious, and you were so young and so soft.

Rhea had taught you nothing of use. Perhaps to read books and ride horses, but it was clear she hadn't hardened you as she was. You had no idea of politics or respect for your King. Soft. Sheltered. A blessing in disguise? Or a curse?

“That will be a problem, dreamer or not.” Viserys interrupts. It’s clear what he means. Daemon has to fix it. Because the Seven forbid Viserys is the one to get his hands dirty. He likes to believe he is above Daemon, in that sense. That he has some sort of morals that go beyond caring for Rhaenyra.

He has not. His tastes are the same as Daemon's. Fire and blood and all that came with it, but with the delusion of having some great sense of morality.

“Give her to me. The Bronze Bitch left her everything she had. I can keep the Vale and the little girl in line.” Daemon quickly says, ignoring your indignant yelp and trashing. “I’ll marry her.”

“Allow you to own a dreamer?” Viserys raises his brows, looking doubtful. “Don’t you think it’s too much? If she truly is one, of course…”

“Show him, Lady Cuffs.”

You remain in obstinate silence. Daemon feels the urge to scream. Clearly, the Royce genes ran strong because Seven Hells you were infuriating.

“Didn’t you say you could keep her in line?” Viserys taunts, amused. Oh, if Daemon could, he would spank your pretty arse red from that defiance. Little brat that you are, it would be a fitting punishment.

He can’t do much more, not without endangering you. Neither Viserys nor him are experts on dreamers. They have been oddities during the history of their house. Their lessons on them were far less detailed than on dragons.

The upkeeping and care of one would require research. But some things are clear from the start. Dreamers shouldn't be hurt. Or too traumatized. They might get nightmares, and that would make their powers wane.

Daemon needs to scare you into thinking he will hurt you, but not actually do it. How to scare you into compliance and punish you, but not hurt you? He looks at the Iron Throne, and suddenly, an idea sparks into his mind. You are, in many ways, a child. And a man is allowed to discipline his wife.

Daemon unsheathes his sword, making as much noise as possible. You flinch, clearly recognizing the sound. He bangs it against your vulnerable behind, making you jolt forward and yelp. Not only it must have hurt, but the sound echoed in the throne room. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, surprised and a little teary-eyed. Viserys smiles.

"Answer his question. Properly." Daemon orders. You look between him and Viserys, clearly unsure. He gives you a few moments, but when you are taking too long for his liking, Daemon raises his sword again. The words nearly tumble out in your haste to speak.

"I… Your wife. Aemma, she held on to you and begged you to not let them cut her. You held her down. Monster.” You say to Viserys, now openly crying. Daemon blinks. Now that was something he didn’t know.

Viserys’s anger at the “heir for a day” comment is suddenly framed in a new light. Guilt. The fool. Daemon would never do something like that to you. A dreamer is too valuable of an asset.

“Something more pleasant.” He orders, swinging the sword. You try to dance away from the hit, but you are unable to. You give another cry.

“You have a dagger. With Aegon’s dream. And the Lady Alicent visited you in your chambers, wearing one of her mother’s dresses, after Aemma passed.” This time, Daemon keeps a close eye on Viserys’s face, instead of you. His face is slack, jaw hanging open. Apparently, you are telling the truth. He wonders what other seedy secrets about him you know.

Daemon raises his sword, ready to hit your bottom again.

“That’s enough, Daemon. You proved your point. You can marry her.” Viserys says, voice shaky. He is clearly overcome by what you know and by the methods needed to extract the information from you. Viserys is about to give you to him. He has realized he will not be able to handle you.

Daemon doesn't mind. To be kept safe, every King needs someone willing to get their hands dirty. He has done much worse, and that was not even in the hopes of protecting Viserys and Rhaenyra.

“No, no, no…” You protest, pitifully. Your whole face is streaked with tears.

“Thank you, brother.” Daemon answers, smirking. Never has he felt more victorious. He gives another slap to your behind, this time with his hand. Viserys nearly smiles at your indignant shriek. “Oh, Lady Wife, no one asked for your opinion.”

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon x y/n #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon smut #daemon x oc #daemon x reader #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon #divine intuition series #cristi angers her followers #part... who knows

[writingsofwesteros]

I love the step dad Daemon 👀🥵, and her being Nyra and Laenor’s daughter 👀, her moms only “true born daughter” tainted by Daemon 👀.

But also what about Rhea Royce’s secret bastard daughter 👀, his sudden willingness to stay in the Vale having nothing to do with his wife (they hated each other still probably) half of Damon’s love of corrupting his step daughter would be pissing off “the bronze bitch” as he called her mom Lmao.

AN:I should be sleeping but this was too hot. Hope you like it x

NSFW

“Shhh,” Daemon whispered into your ear as his hand not so gently moved over your soft lips. Your whimpers of pleasure are muted instantly. “You have to be quiet.” He ordered as you were nearly falling apart. “Or do you want your mother to see you being a little whore?” He darkly teased you.

His cock brushed against your spongy spot that Daemon had introduced to you. You gently shook your head at his words; a soft blush coming over your cheeks. A dark smirk was your only answer as he pushed deeper inside you. He had already ripped your dress to pieces with promises of many gifts.

Your soft, ample breasts were bouncing in front of his face as his free hand moved onto the headboard. Gods, you had been such a treat when he first visited his wife’s home. He had ruined you so completely just under her nose and the rogue Prince was loving every moment and he knew you were too.

Giving how wet you were and how easy you fell into his bed now. You were even coming to him now; much to his delight as his arrogance only grew. “Good girl.” He whispered into your ear as your soaked walls fluttered around him. “I should breed you. I bet you would look so good.” The Prince continued to purr.

You whimpered and shook your head; the shame it would bring to your mother. “Shh, I do not think you would have a choice in the matter.” Daemon hummed; brushing your noses together as his thrusts only quickened. The sound of skin slapping together echoed around your chambers.

Two of his fingers slipped inside your hot mouth as he looked down. Your moans hummed against him as you began to suck. Your own hips rocking to try and keep up with his thrusts but he was always so fast; so hard. All you could do was take it. “Fuck, look at you.” Daemon hummed.

You whined and blushed under his attention. “Daemon..” You whimpered out. Drool falling from your lips as you blinked so innocently up at him. “Shh, Y/N..” He ordered and harshly thrust into you enough to knock the breath from you. Your body shook and you could only whine as you squirted around his cock.

His chuckles sounded out as he only fucked you harder. He was so good at keeping his climax from coming over him; for now anyway. “Y/N…have you seen Daemon?” The sound of your mother’s voice just outside your door had you stilling completely underneath him. It seemed to have the opposite effect for Daemon. 

“You should answer her.” He whispered into your ear. His thrusts never stopped as your wetness completely coated him. You knew the sheets beneath you both were soaked as you hiccuped in pleasure; your heart pounding in your ears. Your mind softened for him, which Daemon took great delight in causing.

The moments ticked by in silence as he only chuckled into your ear. “Not here…” You called out; voice broken in pleasure as your eyes nearly rolled back. “Gods, he is pathetic.” Your mother continued as your legs wrapped around Daemon as if to pull him closer; pull him deeper inside you.

“Hopefully he goes soon.” Her voice continued to move over you as your hands slowly moved to Daemon’s bare arse. You began to palm him; your nails moving over his soft skin as you shook beneath. “Yes!” You cried out as he began to touch your spot with each thrust. “Oh, do you want me to go, sweet girl.” Daemon whispered into your ear.

Not that you were hearing anything now as you hid into the pillows. Your whimpers muted as your mother finally left the corridor. “Oh, you are a delight.” He hummed as he slowly moved your leg over his shoulder. The new position had him falling deeper inside you than ever before. “Oh..oh gods!”

“Shh, I got you…” Daemon whispered; brushing your noses together before passionately capturing your soft lips. His tongue moving over your bottom one as his own stomach began to tighten now. Your fingers soon moved towards his locks and began to pull. It was then that he decided to flip you both over. 

“Don’t you dare stop.” Daemon ordered as your cries echoed louder. Your hands settled on his chest as you bounced on him. Your soaked walls flutter once more as you seemingly choke on pleasure. You couldn’t concentrate any longer; all you knew was him and the pleasure he could give you.

He slapped your arse again and again; each time you tightened around his cock. The passion between you both was only growing as he snapped his hips. His free hand roughly cupped your breast as he pinched your nipples. The marks he had already given you were already beginning to darken.

“You are mine, aren’t you?” Daemon hummed as your head fell back in pleasure. Those dark locks cascading down your back. “Yes, yes…oh gods, I’ll be anything you want.” The words were falling from your lips before you could stop them. They were enough to push Daemon over the edge.

A soft gasp escaped you as he released deep inside you. He grabbed your hips and pushed you down so he could stuff you. Your own legs were quivering as his larger hand moved to your weeping pussy. He quickly rubbed over your clit until you were squirting around his cock once more.

Your body glistened with sweat as you collapsed on top of him. You burrowed into his neck to hide from the world as his touches slowly became more gentle now. His hand moving up and down your back as he shushed you. “Good girl..” He whispered sweet nothings into your ear as praises fell from his lips.

Daemon smirked as he softly mouthed at your sweet neck. Oh he would have, he’d have you completely. His hand slowly moved to your stomach and began to stroke you as you easily fell asleep. He wondered if he should stay for your mother to walk into the scene in the morning. Or better yet; have her walk in as he was taking you again.

Gods, he was getting harder already and your whimpers were so fucking cute. He couldn’t stop himself from beginning to rock his hips once more. “No..sleepy…” You babbled and he only shushed you as he took from you all you could give. Daemon chuckled as you began to move even as you whimpered in overstimulation.

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen smut #stepfather!daemon targaryen #request

[frankcastleonlyfans]

part three of dad!daemon headcanon pleaseeee🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄, 𝐏𝐓𝟑:

pairing: dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader

author's note: last episode, aemond beat the shit out of baela and rhaena, and daemon didn't gave a single shit about his daughters being blooded and bruised. i thought i should rewrite that, specially because the day aemond lost his eye is a thing in our dad!daemon au. also, i'll make aemond a little bit ooc because he needs to be an asshole, AND, I changed the way aemond loses his eye.

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. i hope you like it!

warnings: mentions of animal cruelty, descriptions of children getting harmed, aemond is his own warning, children cussing, this headcanon is pure chaos so be prepared.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

this takes places months before part 1.

Daemon hated Aemond.

At first you thought it was funny that a grown ass man had such hatred towards a little boy, but then, you saw it with your own eyes.

You and Daemon once watched the kids' dragon training lessons, and you noticed how Aemond's eyes squinted once your son commanded Araxes to dracarys.

So it started there. Your son had his own dragon — and so did your daughter — , and prince Aemond had none.

Daemon would always complain to you how Aemond was picking on Rhaegon during sword fighting training.

"He should be more violent, I don't want Rhaegon to let that prick hurt him."

"Now, you're the one who's picking battles with Alicent." You warned.

Aemond never liked the fact that Alyssa could watch their fighting training. She was a girl, and wasn't supposed to be there.

He couldn't hurt Rhaegon outside the training camp, so he discovered that it was easier to mess with the Targaryen girl.

When Alyssa found her pet cat beheaded under her covers on her blood stained bed, she left her shared room crying, not even answering to Helaena's questions.

She went to the boys’ chambers, where she found her brothers, and Jacaerys and Lucerys sleeping.

Alyssa woke them up and went downstairs to find their parents, hoping they could do something to punish Aemond for his actions. But unfortunately, they found the boy first.

"Cousin Alyssa! I see you’re crying... What's wrong? Didn't like my present?"

Alyssa ran to punch him in the face, but he punched her first.

It started a huge fight, where Rhaegon, Luke, Jace and Alyssa were against Aemond.

Aemond threatened to kill Luke and Alyssa, and Jace tried to stab him with a knife.

Aemond was the most gifted in body combat, so he quickly dodged the Velaryon boy's attack, and kicked him away.

Luke threw sand in Aemond's eyes while he held Rhaegon by the neck, and Jace threw Alyssa the knife.

"Take your fucking hand out of my brother!"

Alyssa wasted no time to cut Aemond's eye.

Aemond fell to the ground screaming, but it was too late when the guards finally came to his rescue.

"What's the meaning of this!?" Daemon stormed into the throne room where everyone was reunited.

"Alyssa! Rhaegon!" You cried out, taking your beated children in your arms.

"What did you do to them, you freak!?" Daemon hissed towards the sewed-eyed boy.

"You're seeing this, Viserys!?" Alicent yelled, "Where do you think your brother's children learned to bully our son?"

"His own brother bullies him!" Rhaegon pointed out.

Aegon was just as unbearable as his brother, but at least he wasted his time drinking instead of making your children's life a living hell.

"Aemond killed Alyssa's cat and punched her in the face!" Lucerys told his uncle, and Daemon groaned in anger.

"That bitch cut my eye!" Aemond uttered.

"You were suffocating my brother!" Alyssa remarked.

"That is enough!" King Viserys yelled, "I want you all to make up and forget this all happened."

"That is insufficient. Aemond has been damaged permanently, my king." Alicent stated.

"I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye. What would you have me do?"

"There is a debt to be paid. I shall have one of Daemon's daughter eyes in return. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Alyssa Targaryen."

Your eyes opened wide in horror as your daughter ran out of your embrace to hide herself behind Daemon.

"You will do no such thing!" You warned the queen.

Ser Criston stayed in his position while Viserys warned, again, that the matter was finished.

Alicent took the dagger that the king carried around, and came towards the girl, that was still being protected by her father's body.

Daemon acted quickly and unsheathed Dark Sister, pointing the blade to the Queen. All the guards took off their swords.

"Father!" Alyssa cried out.

"Give one more step and both of us will die." Daemon warned, "I'll cut your throat open like a piece of ham, and the King shall have my head. I don't mind dying for my family, your Grace."

Alicent threw the dagger to the floor and left.

Daemon gave you an apologizing look after putting himself in such danger.

You both took care of your children’s wounds, and find out that Maegon stayed in his room after Rhaegon ordered him to.

You took the boys to their room with Rhaenyra and her kids, while Daemon took Alyssa to hers.

"You acted bravely tonight." Daemon whispered against your little girl's silver locks, and gave her forehead a kiss, "I'm proud of you, my little stormfire."

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagines #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon imagines #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader au #dad!daemon targaryen au

[two-white-butterflies]

emma falls in love | aem. targaryen

Description: You are the biggest swiftie in world. After finding out that Taylor's having a show in town - you line up immediately. Minor problem - your enemy is the only person to secure tickets and he has one condition. Date him.

Author's Note: Got the idea from @ilikeitbetterangsty thank you for letting me have this 😭

You had a certain pull in your body - a magnetic force that lured any person deeper, until they are forced to be your friend. Aemond was the only one immune to your charms - he found you too annoying for his liking. "Did you get tickets?" Rhaena peeked over your shoulder.

"I'm 10,293 in line." you stared back at her, already feeling the migraine begin to form at the back of your mind. "How about you?" you turned to look at the twins. Baela was the first to close her laptop loudly. "No email." she responded with a sigh. "Same with me," Rhaena agreed, moving closer to your side of the bed.

You were their only hope now.

"Helaena got ones in advance," Baela groaned - closing her phone and throwing it across the room. "How?" Rhaena's eyebrows merged into each other. "Daddy's connections," she rolled her eyes - heck, the only reason they didn't use Daemon to secure tickets was because he played John Mayer one Sunday afternoon.

"Unfair," you sighed, eyes widening because the internet connection began to fade away. "What's going on?" Baela moved towards your desktop - tapping the CPU in an aggressive attempt to make the internet work. "Gently. Shit. I forgot to pay for wifi," you scratched the back of your neck - feeling the frustration begin to pool.

"Come on, bitch." Baela pretended to die slowly. Taylor was all of your lifelines. "Looks like we're not going to the tour. Unless, we convince Mr. Targaryen to buy us some from the scalpers." you suggested, knowing that the girls' dad was loaded.

Daemon Targaryen basically owned half of Dragonview - the other half belonged to his equally chivalrous brother, Viserys Targaryen. It was going to be a piece of cake - the twins just had to swallow their pride in order to enjoy a better concert.

"Nah, I had a full blown debate with him the other day. I'm not paying for the concert using his dirty John Mayer scented money." Baela raised her arms in mock surrender. There were other means to attend the concert - one of them included sleeping with someone.

"Don't worry girls, we'll find a way." you smiled.

"I know someone who got tickets," Jacaerys sat beside you in the bleachers, his hoodie was raised - covering half of his face while he gobbled down the sandwiches that his mom made him. "Who?" you were quick to inquire - seeing that you were desperate to see Taylor's shadow. Fuck, you'd pay a lot of money to even see a strand of her hair at this point. "You won't like it," he grinned.

There was a lot of tension between his mother and his step-grandmother. They'd always give each other the cold shoulder when it came to family reunions. Surprisingly, the kids got together well. Jacaerys and Aemond were the closest. "You wouldn't be telling me unless I have an actual chance to get the tickets," you crossed your arms - glaring at him.

"Aemond. Has. Tickets." he enunciated ever word, before taking a bite of his sandwich. "Son of a bitch!" you cursed - and he began to laugh. "Okay but - he told me that he bought twelve tickets and he has 9 available ones." he shrugged, seeing the way your eyes began to glimmer with lust.

Lust over concert tickets.

"Thank you. I will get those tickets." you stood up, bolting to the direction of the school building - leaving your lunch on the chair. Your mom was going to kill you for leaving the tupperware - but it was going to be worth it. Anything for you Taylor Swift.

God, you hated the way Taylor made you do things.

After finding out that Aemond had tickets to see the concert, you decided to sit beside him during Chemistry. "Are you a big fan of Taylor?" you leaned in his direction, shoulders brushing with his. "What?" his eyebrows merged into each other, not bothering to turn to your direction - but listening to everything you say.

"Jace told me that you got tickets." you repeated.

That was the moment he turned to look at you - his smirk deepened seeing those wide eyes of yours - anticipating his every move. "Yep," he popped the 'p' in the word. What would you do for a ticket?

"Can I buy some?" you asked in a low whisper - praying that Sir Criston wouldn't catch you chatting with his favorite student. "They're not for sale, pumpkin." he snorted - amused by how desperate you were. Oh, all those tickets were for close friends only.

"Come on, I'll do anything." you moved closer to his body - close enough to the point that your lips were almost nibbling his ear. "Anything is a very tricky word," he rolled his eyes, writing down notes in his notebook. "- you shouldn't use it." he warned.

A silent groan escapes your mouth.

"But I really mean it!" your voice raised by a decibel. The bell began to rang - signaling the end of the class. He stared deep into your eyes - gaze trailing back and forth between your lips and your orbs. He bites his lower lip. Plan in mind. "I'll think about it - meet me in the yogurt shop, after school." he smirked - before walking away.

6 PM, standing alone in a yogurt shop.

"There's no such thing as fashionably late," you rolled your eyes - feeling his figure sit down beside you. "Apologies," he muttered sarcastically - settling a yogurt ice cream beside you. Chocolate.

"So, why did we have to meet here?" you inquired, left hand in your pocket and playing with the wad of cash that you assumed he'd ask for. "I wanted you to be prepared." he answered cryptically.

"Name your price." you turned to look at him.

"It doesn't have a price." he responded with a stoic face. "I need your help - and if you agree with me. I'll promise to give you three tickets." he held up three fingers to enunciate his proposal. "What is it?" your eyes narrowed - hopefully nothing too tough.

"Be my girlfriend for three days."

"Even during the concert?"

"Yes."

BAELA TARGARYEN, RHAENA TARGARYEN, Y/N L/N | MAIN GC | THE REAL ONES | NO BITCHES RAHH |

Y/N L/N I'm gonna regret this but I got the tickets 💀

BAELA TARGARYEN How much did he ask for? I'll venmo u

Y/N L/N He didn't make me pay but he's asking something from me...

RHAENA TARGARYEN what...? like sell ur soul kinda thing he always kinda look witchy ngl BAELA TARGARYEN LMAO 😭

Y/N L/N He asked me to be his gf for 3 days 💀😭 pray for me sisters

RHAENA TARGARYEN who would've thought that mr. meanie had these feelings for you heheheheeheheh 😛 BAELA TARGARYEN This is some wattpad shit prayer reveal sis 🛐 RHAENA TARGARYEN But you agreed tho?

Y/N L/N hell yeah! those were taylor ticketz

BAELA TARGARYEN Mood RHAENA TARGARYEN respect sis 🫡 but we will venmo u $490 each 😭

seen by you and, baela targaryen...

(DAY ONE - PDA)

Your mother always told you the first day of a relationship was always going to be amazing. Normally, the couples want each other to believe that they are free of sins - perfect without any flaw. But that's not real - relationships cannot be perfect - but she didn't warn you about fake relationships? Why would someone make an effort on something that wasn't real?

"Good morning ma'am," Aemond smiled at your mother, helping her carry your lunch inside his car. "Who is this young man?" your mother's eyes narrowed, eyes trailing back and forth between you and Aemond. "He's a friend," you answered - glaring at him.

You were only supposed to date for three days - but the damage that he wanted to make was going to last longer than that. "Alright, I best not keep the both of you waiting - you'll be late for class again." your mother sighed, eyes twinkling as she sees Aemond open the door for you. "Thank you," you mumbled - he placed a hand on top of your head - making sure that your head wouldn't bump the roof of the car.

"I'll bring her home at six, ma'am." he smiled, walking around to the driver's door. A sigh escapes your mouth. Fuck him.

---

You weren't completely oblivious to Aemond's reputation. You were aware that everyone had a crush on him - the juniors wouldn't stop talking about how 'hot' he was. And honestly, you didn't get the hype.

"It's not nice to eat alone," he landed his ass on the chair parallel yours. "I'm not alone, my friends are ten minutes away." you responded - already feeling everyone's gazes fixed upon you. "-but they're not here." he smirked, taking a bite of his sushi.

"Well the point is, I'm not alone." you scoffed. "I have a question anyways." you stopped chewing for a second. Watching as his eyebrows merged into each other. His single pupil dilated. "What?" he inquired. He didn't expect you to ask any questions. "Why are you doing this?" you whispered.

Did he have no friends? Why did he have to pay someone to be his girlfriend? Why did he choose you? Why did he buy that many tickets? A lot of questions were pounding your head.

He bit his lower lip - smiling for a split second.

"Because I like you."

BAELA TARGARYEN, RHAENA TARGARYEN, Y/N L/N | MAIN GC | THE REAL ONES | NO BITCHES RAHH

Y/N L/N I asked him why he chose me and he said "bcs i like u" LIKE WTF???

RHAENA TARGARYEN Bruh y u blushing

Y/N L/N Bcs it was hella weird 😭 I thought he hated me

BAELA TARGARYEN Tbh everyone knows that he likes you (in our house) i think uncle vis knows ur name too 💀😭 RHAENA TARGARYEN That's real tho 100%

rhaena targaryen changed your nickname to 'mrs. aemond'

Y/N L/N Kill urself byee stopp

you changed rhaena targaryen's nickname to 'mrs. garmund'

Y/N L/N girl has a crush on her step-grandmother's nephew??

BAELA TARGARYEN Help me step-uncle, i'm stuck 🤤 RHAENA TARGARYEN Baela i thought you was on my side 😭

(DAY TWO - IT GETS REAL)

ISISAURUS (Y/N L/N) Did you really mean it?

DEVIL INCARNATE (AEMOND TARGARYEN) what do you mean?

ISISAURUS (Y/N L/N) That you like me

DEVIL INCARNATE (AEMOND TARGARYEN) don't you believe me?

Aemond smiled seeing your figure walk past him. It was free period - and all of the students were gathering on the school grounds. "Thank god for Taylor Swift," he mumbled to himself while adjusting his uniform. He knew that it was partly wrong to ask this from you - but he still would've given you the tickets if you denied.

Actually, he assumed that you'd deny. His gaze returns to the book on his lap. He could still remember the day he fell in love.

It was a chilly winter - just after the kids stopped going to school, but the parents still had work. Aemond was left inside a daycare, one that wasn't known for taking great care in their kids. He was frustrated. Five years old, and his parents still brought him to daycare? "Watch where you're going," a little girl rolls her eyes, shoving him away from her body.

"Excuse me?" he turned sassily. No one talks to a Targaryen that way.

"You're in my way," she crossed her arms, and he couldn't help the scoff that came out of his lips. "You can say it nicely, you know that?" he responded, never the one to back down from a fight.

"To be honest, I didn't expect anything from an Isisaurus lookalike." he chuckled to himself, and the pout on her lips began to deepen. "What's that?" she inquired and he scoffed one more time - mocking her slightly. "A dinosaur. You look like a dinosaur." he laughed.

Mayhaps the start of your friendship was a little shitty. But you grew into the closest of friends that Winter break. He even welcomed you inside his house for a playdate.

Until suddenly, he stops.

He stops seeing you, but he doesn't stop adoring and respecting you. To him - you're the kind of book that he can't put down.

He stops sending you letters - he stops attending the daycare. He stops existing in your world. And when the winter break ended, he barely acknowledged you in school. A sign escapes his mouth - unable to focus on the book at hand. He felt bad for ignoring you - he assumed that you'd hate him after he lost his eye. The other kids at school bullied him anyways.

The friendship that you treasured and built for a few weeks, came crumbling down and the both of you turned into enemies.

"There's a difference between reading and staring at the words." you hummed, sitting beside him and opening your ice cream bar. "I don't think that you know how to read," he teased, still staring at the book.

"Whatever - I need your help for something." you smiled, thinking that it was best not to get on his nerves. "What?" he asked.

"I need your help getting into a restaurant."

---

A chuckle escapes his mouth seeing the big smile on your face. "Why were you banned here anyways?" he frowned, cutting the meat into small pieces and putting them on the grill. "The owner thought it was unfair that I was eating to much, which is bullshit because it's an eat all you can." you rolled your eyes, swirling the cooked meat on the cheese fondue. "- and you needed me here, because?" he asked.

"Your dad owns everything, they're not going to deny Viserys Targaryen's daughter-in-law." you smiled and another laugh escapes his mouth. "Don't be too cocky, pumpkin - deal ends tomorrow." he tapped your chin, placing the vegetables on your plate.

"Anyhow, did you but your outfit for tomorrow?" he inquired, knowing that Helaena spent the entire day looking for hers. "Yep, I'm going as T-Swizzle." you informed. "How about you?" you ask.

"I don't have an outfit - Helaena told me that the only people allowed to wear are the girls, gays and theys." he placed a slab of meat on your plate. He felt full just seeing you eat.

"And she's right." you smirked.

"What is this thing called again?" he stared at the restaurant. "Samgyupsal," you informed.

---

After eating in the restaurant, he offered to bike around town - to get rid of the calories. "Knock knock?" he asked, following behind you in a slow pace. "Who's there?" you turned to look at him, before returning your gaze back to the road ahead. "Tank," he replied.

"Tank who?"

"You're welcome." he laughed at his own joke. You rolled your eyes. "Haha that's funny, but I have a better one." you argued, easily navigating the sharp corner.

"Okay - okay. Knock knock?"

"Who's there?"

"Kanga,"

"Kanga who?"

"It's actually kangaroo." you laughed at yourself, and he pretended to have no reaction. "That's the most copy pasted joke ever," he tried to keep a straight face - but ultimately he ends up laughing (not because of the joke but because of your laughter). He stops the bike for a moment - attempting to regain his composure.

"It wasn't that funny," you laughed, stopping your bike and walking towards him. "Stop laughing." his face turned red with too much joy.

"I'm not!"

(DAY THREE - CAN THIS BE A REAL THING?)

"I'm so ready for this!" Baela screamed, staring at the LED display in front of her. You know I adore you, I'm crazier for you - than I was at 16 lost in a film scene. You couldn't help but blush at the feel of Aemond's arms around your shoulders. Waving homecoming queens, marching band playing. I'm lost in the lights. Ahhh.

You turned slightly in his direction.

Eyes interlocking with his.

American glory faded before me. Now I'm feeling hopeless. Ripped up my prom dress. Running through rose thorns. I saw the score board and ran for my life. Ahhh.

"Are you having fun?" he whispered in your ear, seeing the childish glimmer in your eyes. "Yeah," you smiled - leaning deeper into his touch. You weren't even sure if this was pretend anymore.

It's you and me, that's my whole world. They whisper in the hallway, she's a bad, bad girl. "The whole school is rolling their eyes, you play stupid games. You win stupid prices." Rhaena belted out - sing screaming all of the lyrics. Your eyes interlocked with each other - somehow the lyrics made sense for the both of you.

This entire thing was a stupid thing right? A stupid game.

It's you and me, there's nothing like this. Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince.

His grip tightened around your shoulders - seeing your body tense with every word that flows out of Taylor's mouth. He moves his body closer to yours - pressing a soft kiss to your head. You could already feel Baela side-eyeing you.

(DAY FOUR - THE AFTERMATH)

DEVIL INCARNATE (AEMOND TARGARYEN) You free today?

MY ISISAURUS (Y/N L/N) always.

DEVIL INCARNATE (AEMOND TARGARYEN) No more pretending this time. let's be real

MY ISISAURUS (Y/N L/N) yes

@mizfortuna @bellstwd @nyctophilic0vitnir @pearlstiare @fan-goddess

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #the one eyed prince #aemond targaryen social media au #aemond targaryen modern #modern au

[jangofctts]

Ungrateful Heart (Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader)

Rated: Mature, Explicit 18+

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, fingering, biting, Daemon being a little bitch, a hint of dubcon, degradation, hair pulling, doggy style, finger sucking, rough sex, creampies, (lmk if I missed something!)

a/n: hi yall good to be back after three months lmfaO 

Kings Landing.

A vast city hugging the coast, buzzing with activity and painted in swatches of red roofs and golden banisters. You have been here once when you were a child. Though back then the glory and magic of it still persisted. Nowadays your days are shaded with doubt and a battle to stay afloat in the tumultuous sea of politics. You are not here for leisure—you are here as collateral. There is no mistaking the nature of you and your older brother’s stay at King’s Landing. 

There has always been unrest in the Northlands—the distaste for the South all too common amongst your people. While it has quelled since your grandfather knelt before the Targaryen King, there will always be whispers, threats and rumors of usurpers. Your father did his best to silence this, but the Crown takes no chances. Letters were sent, requesting you and your brother to represent House Stark. Thinly veiled threats, is what you father made of these. And so you were sent off—offered on a silver platter to the beasts that roam the capital. It’s been nearly a year since then.     

Your brother’s adjustment to the South has gone swimmingly. It’s easy to distract one’s self from burdens of sorrow with swordplay and jousting. You? You suppose reading a book could do, but it’s not the same. All that you’re allowed to do is prattle on about the state of the Realm and dispelling rumors of the North. A pretty little figurehead who no one gives a damn about listening to. You sigh. The world is far more accommodating to men than it is to women.

Uhg—and all the damn marriage proposals. An endless stream of papers that grow in number each day—half of the Houses you’ve never even heard of. You toss the majority of them into the fireplace, much at the behest of your brother. Whatever. 

At least the Targaryen’s court is somewhat amusing. A lifetime of petty arguments that you observe from the shadows. Rhaenyra is kind and while you’re impartial to the King, there is one you wouldn’t mind seeing fall off a cliff. You detest Daemon Targaryen. Nothing but a short-tempered fool in search for personal glory and the weight of a crown. Always a thorn in your side 

No matter the reason, he will always be a nagging pest. Always picking at your arguments, and yapping at your heels. There is nothing you are not at odds with when it concerns Prince Daemon. Despite your hatred, your mind seems to always drift to images of him in the wee hours of night. Dark armor, tall stature and sneering face. You frown. Disgusting. You hope he falls off his dragon and breaks his spine.  

Your hateful wishes still do not protect you. Just the same as every night, the Rogue Prince drifts into your thoughts like wet ink spilling onto parchment. You toss and turn in your bed, silk sheets constricting your legs. Fuck this.

You can’t pinpoint the nagging feeling for leaving the safety of rooms this late at night. Oh, but it is beautiful like this—the castle swathed in the soft glow of the torches, the scent of burning wood and the sweet lilies populating the gardens. Not a soul walks these halls at night save for the occasional maester or King’s Guard. They pay you no mind. 

Your footsteps echo on the cold stone, wandering through vast halls and winding corridors until you’re met with open air. Trees rustle in the dark—your feet have lead you to the Godswood. A twinge of homesickness pierces your heart for the cold and vast lands of white. For Winterfell’s homely walls, your younger siblings, your mother and father—

You clasp your hands together and rub at your knuckles. You sigh and drift to the heartwood, its weeping features a strange, basal comfort. Though your peace is quickly tarnished—

You are not alone in this courtyard. 

Dark leather boots appear from the shadows as the hair on the back of your neck rises. The rest of the man’s body slowly reveals itself as he strolls into the flickering torchlight. Daemon Targaryen stands before you, his height towering in the darkness. Ice coagulates in your veins. You take a step back. He inclines his head, strands of pale silver flowing off his shoulder, predatory eyes raking over your figure. “Sleep evading you, Lady Stark?”

“Prince Daemon,” you reply curtly. “What a surprise."  

You don’t attempt to curb your annoyance. Daemon’s shoulder bounce with a huff. “What brings you to the heartwood at this hour? Praying to your Gods for forgiveness? Or, perhaps a tryst in the dirt with a member of the Guard.”

You sniff, steeling your nerves as he approaches. His boots flatten the grass under his weight. “I could ask you the same, my lord.” 

Daemon exhales through his nose and plants himself before you, toe to toe. A common ploy to intimidate you. He raises his hand and pinches a strand of your unbound hair and twirls it around his fingers. You scoff and jerk your chin—he drops his hand. “I only wished to see the Lady Stark safe—she has an awful habit of wandering where she ought not to.”   

Your lips flatten into a thin line, dread clawing at your chest. You take a step away, he follows. “So you thought to follow me?” 

This could end poorly, you are treading on eggshells. Your gaze drops to his hands that rest at his sides. There is old blood crusting under his nails, like rusting metal on a blade. You wonder who it belongs too, if it were just one poor soul or that of many Daemon has cut down. Remnants of his conquests—justice he deems fitting in the name of the Crown. 

Two of those long, battle-worn fingers whisper under your jawline and slot beneath your chin. He tilts your head and your breath hitches. The ends of his mouth quirk into an impish smirk. 

“Tell me something,” Daemon coaxes, thumb sweeping over the divot beneath your bottom lip. “Do I frighten you, little shadow?”

His words are mocking, not a hint of true compassion. He enjoys the foul sport of intimidation far too much.

This alone should disgust you.  

But the air is humid and the night is thick with buzzing possibilities. Honeyed wine coats your tongue, spinning insults you wish to say, into molasses and ash. Your brows furrow. Setting aside the asinine manners and the questionable decisions—Daemon Targaryen intrigues you. He knows this—he is no fool to the sideways glances, the lingering focus on his mouth cradling the rims of golden chalices and his sharp smiles. You trusted in dark corners and the long shadows of the afternoon to hide you away, to keep your curiosities under wraps—a pity it never worked.  

His free hand slithers around your bare arm, his fingers scalding over your already heated flesh. The pads of his fingers dig into your skin, indenting the muscle. Not hard enough to bruise, but firm enough that faint marks will linger.   

“Tell me,” he prompts again, jostling your chin.  

The warm glow of the torchlight carves his sharp features into something akin to sinister. To him, you are something to be devoured—conquered. A true warrior—wildfire thrums through his veins and each breath that puffs over your flushed skin is invitingly toxic. Lips made of glass and a voice cut from steel. A grin made for war and eyes flecked with embers—

You swallow and forget about the sins threaded in the fibers of his soul. It’s best you do. You do not wish to falter and lose your slippery foothold you have against Daemon. True—you are no fearsome warrior, deft with a blade, but what you lack in a sword, you make up in full with your whip-tongue. All these months you’ve held your head high, nipping back at every wayward insult he’s thrown at you. Every battle of wit and test of will, you’ve bested and shrugged aside. It is a reflection of the North—that your House is unwavering, to tread lightly amongst the wolves. 

The Rogue Prince deemed you easy prey—a poor writhing creature that turns belly up and submits under the barest of pressure. But you are no dove. 

This is a dance of ice and fire. You have no intentions of losing.        

“No,” you finally answer, straightening your spine and your resolve. “You do not frighten me.”

A hum rumbles through his chest. “Is that so?” 

You sigh, “What is there to fear, Daemon? A spoiled princeling, begging for scraps of the Realm’s affection—”     

Daemon lashes out, hand clamping over your jaw like an iron bear trap. You swallow your yelp of pain as your teeth cut into the insides of your cheeks. The tip of his nose bumps yours, his voice a dangerous growl. “Do not think I won’t send your head back to your father on a pike.”

“And risk war with the North?” You bite back, words muddled. Daemon understands you nonetheless. “Don’t be so mindless.”  

Daemon’s teeth clench, pale brows furrowed into a deep crease. His nostrils flare, his irate gaze unwavering. Within it you find only ruin. Fire in the darkness, raging against the void, raising his sword against the Gods. A snake swallowing its tail, sharp edged steel—all that he is, is ripped edges and cracked glass. You haven’t the heart to be afraid of him—promises of tomorrow spark and pop in his mouth, but you will steal them one by one for each time you see the sun set and the darkness take his place. 

Hey squints. His hands roughly drop, but remain close enough to touch you. You wince as you roll your jaw and rub at the sore nerves pulsating under the skin. “Your knavish tongue will be your undoing, Lady Stark.”

And just when you think you’ve got him figured out, the wind shifts and his temperament smooths out. The bemused, coy smirk slips back into place. His hands lift, you flinch and his jackal grin grows. All he does is smooth out the rumbled fringe of your dress, indulging himself in a coquettish swipe of his fingers along the length of your collarbones. To a passerby it would appear as if he were adjusting your neckless—you both know better.    

You chew your lip. Fuck it. You’ll take the risk of insulting him further. There’s nothing to lose here. You square your shoulders and swat at his lingering touch. “It is unbecoming for a prince to take such pleasure in his power.”

Daemon rubs at his chin. Your frown deepens. “My—you are venomous this evening.” 

Daemon places his hands on your shoulders, the warmth and weight of them seeping through the light fabric of your dress. You fingernails dig into the flesh of your clenched fists. He nudges his palm into your shoulder joint, guiding you to face the weeping heart tree that lies within arms reach. You allow him to. “I take pleasure in my power, because…”

His words trail off. Your breath catches in your lungs as the Prince slots his lean body to yours. “Regardless of my actions, I will be vilified for it. These ungrateful sheep of the Realm will fancy themselves judge, jury, and executioner, but I am above them.”

It’s hot—layers of leather stick to your flushed skin, humid breaths scald your ear and throat. “Beneath me, everyone will burn.” 

Everything is too damn close to you—you itch to peel every layer of cloth and skin from yourself if it offers even a shred of relief. Daemon mistakes the subtle arch in your spine as resistance and circles a weighty arm around your middle to deter your squirming. Daemon indulges in a lecherous squeeze of your midriff—you curse yourself for jumping. 

“So twitchy,” he tuts. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as Daemon’s free hand sweeps back your unbound hair. Each spidery brush of his fingertips over the base of your spine leaves goosebumps in their wake. Your head swims, alarm bells clanging through your mind the moment Daemon curls his long, calloused fingers around your throat. Daemon grins and rests his chin over your shoulder, sharp nose burying into the crook of your of neck and shoulder. You know he can feel your fluttering, thrashing heart, pounding against the porcelain bars of your ribcage. Yet the more you struggle, the tighter his claws hook into you. “I wonder…” 

You wade through the hazy, panicked blur that has settled over your mind. Your tongue wets your parched lips. You don’t understand the beginning of this question, nor do you really want to see how it ends. Regardless, you indulge him. “My lord?” 

His low chuckle vibrates through his chest, porcelain teeth scraping along the column of your throat. “You tremble as if you are a maiden pure…” Daemon nips at ear, warm breath curling like a lick of fire alongside your cheek. “But I have trouble believing this narrative.”    

Daemon’s fingers inch up your throat. His middle and forefinger touch your chin and then your bottom lip. He smooths the pads of his digits over your lip and drags the pliant flesh down, exposing your bottom row of teeth. “How many ingrates have these lips touched?”

His grip cinches tighter, eager to hear your answer. You clench your jaw. “I don’t see how that is any of your concern.” 

“Oh, why don’t you give it up already?” Daemon sneers, “I see through your fucking front—how your pretty little eyes follow me down every corridor, through every room.”

Sharp pain erupts through your jaw as Daemon digs his thumb and middle finger into the joints of your jaw. Your yelp fades to a muffled squeal as Daemon shoves his fingers into your mouth without care. Your nails dig into the tough leather that cradles his arm, but no matter how much you squirm or attempt to shove the digits out with your tongue, there is no escape. Daemon’s teeth latch onto your throat, marring the fragile skin. “You can trick these dogmatic fools with your puritanical Northern ways—but I know the truth.”

You blubber around his fingers, saliva dripping down the sides of your stretched mouth and down his knuckles. Alarm bells continue to rattle inside your head, but that flailing panic drifts and blends into a dark current of gnashing teeth and a vortex of flame. Fervor and fear concoct a blend of sweet desire best left untouched. 

But when has the Rogue Prince ever listened to reason? Instead he takes this love like poison and slathers it onto rusted daggers in search of a home between the vertebrae of your spine. You think of your hands, threading through platinum white hair and the red of his  laughter. A barbed thing, a taunting thing, and a smile that leans to the left and sharp as a scythe. You crave him like hemlock. 

Daemon snickers as his fingers sink deeper into your mouth, pressing down on your soft tongue, the taste of him and salt flooding your tongue. He then pulls them nearly free from your lips, only to drive them back in, then out. A devious lick of arousal pools in your tummy as Daemon Targaryen finger fucks your mouth. He ceases the sick torture the second you gag and claw at his forearm. “There now,” he coos. You shiver despite the heat, his whisper a wicked scrape in your ear. “You desire me just as much as I crave you.”      

You whimper as he drags his fingers completely free from your lips, leaving a trail of sticky saliva over your chin. Daemon jostles your face with a prompting hum. Your voice is hoarse. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” He goads, slithering his sinful hands down the plain of your waist. You writhe under his touch, choking on embers and acidic oaths you hate to dispel off your tongue. 

“Yes,” you grit out, “I desire you, Prince Daemon.” 

Daemon clicks his tongue. “What fine manners,” he replaces his hand over your throat and pushes your head back until it meets the line of his shoulder. “A shame you only use them to persuade me into fucking you.” 

Stretched out like this, bearing your vulnerable neck to his hungry mouth, you meet his eyes. “Your arrogance protects you from coercion—so I believed, my lord.”

Sure, you already know the answer and yes, you’re toying with the untamed viciousness that flickers within his irises. You’re only playing coy to wheedle in a catty insult. It’s one of the simple pleasures in life—making a mockery of Daemon Targaryen. 

“Wretched shadow—I should cut out your tongue for your insolence.”

Before you have a chance to reply, Daemon’s mouth descends onto yours. A kiss full of teeth and iron—nothing about his lips are forgiving. Its blooms like a cut—hard, hungry and victorious. You are the spoils of an enduring, uphill battle, and so he claws at your arms, your clothes, your hair—

He rips himself away when the discomfort of your positioning grows too tedious. Daemon’s chest heaves, lips making a home in the crux of your neck and shoulder. You’re equally short of breath, knees buckling as Daemon’s brash hand cups your breast through your poor excuse of a dress. More of a robe really—

You yelp as he pinches your nipple, rolling it harshly between his fingers. You feel his grin curl up his narrow face, delighted in the results he’s cultivated. Irritation flares in your chest—you’ve slipped seamlessly into his dastardly scheme. Though, right as he moves to your other breast, kneading the pillowy skin, your mind conjures kindling. Your lips tickle his throat, words hushed. “You have a wife, princeling. What would she think of this?”          

The muscles in Daemon’s jaw jump as his jaw clenches. His touches cease as a growl rumbles through his chest. The oncoming silence is terse—swelling with raw nerves you’ve poked and prodded at. You don’t care. 

Daemon’s lip curls, canines flashing in the torchlight. “Not a damn thing. I take what I please.” His fingers leap to the crux of your thighs, securing his hold around your neck and cupping your cunt through your dress. You gasp and arch your spine. “When I please.”

The heel of his palm rocks into your cunt, sparking your arousal tenfold. Wetness has seeped through your underclothes some time ago, yet now you’re at risk for discovery. Not that this poses a real issue—your hips roll into his hand as your lips part in a gasp—you’re long past any sense propriety. He squeezes your throat, thumb making a home over your pulse point, pounding like a war drum. “You will do well to remember this—the world is mine to conquer, foolish girl.”     

A strangled cry breeches your lips as Daemon hikes the skirts of your dress up your thighs. He grabs at your inner thigh, kneading the flesh for a moment before his hand finds your center once more. A stuttered sigh escapes him, feeling your heat through the thin layer of your underclothes. It sticks to your cunt, your wetness amplified by the gentle breeze that whispers through the Godswood, rattling the wine-red leaves as if the Gods themselves sigh in disappointment. Thoughts of sacrilege melt from your mind as Daemon curses, calloused fingers rubbing your slit through the fabric. Your knees buckle, waves of pleasure cascading through every nerve.

Daemon trails his fingers from the top of your cunt, circling your clit then down to rub over your dripping entrance. Despite his touches being blunted, the effect is all the same. “Dae—”  

The hand on your throat slaps over your mouth, quieting your mewls. “Hush, wretched thing.”

The moment his teeth imbed themselves into your neck is the very same moment in which Daemon’s patience snaps. Your underclothes are forcibly removed, ripped seams and soaked cotton pooling around your ankles. His feverish panting scorches your skin, stuttered and edging madness—the world cracks and splits as his fingers finally meet your burning cunt. Your moan breaks against the lines of his palm, unraveling beneath the pads of his fingers that glide through your wet lips. Back and forth they tease, doing nothing to satiate. You thrash—it’s not enough.  

And then, when you think it can’t get any worse, Daemon stops moving entirely. He laughs as you wine and wriggle. He pulls his hand off your mouth, a thin string of saliva connecting you for a quick moment, fingers hovering right over your throbbing clit. “Dae—Prince Daemon, please.”

“Desperate little shadow,” he coos, “Wetting my fingers like a common whore.”

You should feel more conflicted—aghast even—but his insults are kindling to a burning house. You murmur prayers of forgiveness to the rustling leaves above you, hushed words tumbling into a whiney pleas as Daemon circles your clit. Your fingernails scrabble over his knuckles, hoping that your efforts will result in gratification. All it does is make him pause.

“I should leave you like this,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. Your heart seizes. “Unsatisfied and dripping.” Daemon’s forehead drops onto your shoulder, his hand dipping further between your pussy. His fingers spread over your cunt, doing the best he can at this angle and teasing out a little moan. You jolt as Daemon abruptly plunges the tip of his middle finger into your entrance. “But you would never learn.” 

Your cry echos through the Godswood as Daemon’s slots his fingers to your swollen clit. Your legs shake—his pace starts off mellow, pressing fleeting little circles to the bundle of nerves. The pleasure is raw, but there’s no place you can run to. You’re pinned to his chest, destined for torture—to witness his black-hearted delight. You curse and Daemon cuts to the quick, fast and rough, toying with your body like a marionette and her puppeteer—tugging on invisible strings until you dance for him. You squeeze your eyes shut and claw and his forearm, unsure if you’re trying to pull him closer or away from you. 

It’s too much and too quickly. Daemon gives no time to build up the pleasure. It all descends upon you in a vicious wave. Searing heat courses through you from the centre of your core and lashes out to your lower spine and beyond. You arch as the pleasure begins to scald, but his touch follows, his hold unyielding. Your mind folds as your orgasm cracks, a string of senseless babbling and cries of his name all that you can make sense of. 

His fingers press firmly against your clit, your core clenching so hard around nothing that it aches. Your ears ring, the ecstasy bursting through your trembling body. Your knees buckle and he lets you fall. The moss coating the thick heartwood roots absorbs the shock of your fall, but the dirt still stains your knees and palms, still shaking with aftershocks. You squeeze your eyes just to rid your vision of the blurriness and sluggishly move to stand. 

Leather creaks and the snap of a belt sounds behind you. A second later Daemon tosses his sword to your left, the silvery hilt glowing pale in the moonlight. You swing your head over your shoulder as Daemon kneels. He shoots you a sharp, toothy smile. Your heart lurches. This is far from over.  

The sound of rustling fabric and low cursing cuts through some of the anticipation. You look back and bite your lip to curb your snicker. Daemon is hunched over, pawing at the drawstrings of his tented trousers, dexterous as a drunk. “Having trouble with your laces, m’lord?”

Daemon snarls and tears through the flimsy string with sheer force. You yelp as Daemon grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks. His lean body curls over yours, nose brushing along your neck. “Speaking is a privilege. Quiet yourself before I silence your mouth with my cock.”

He shoves your head to the soft earth, his other hand pushing up your skirts to expose your bare ass. Daemon murmurs a curse or perhaps a lick of praise as he runs his roughened palm over the globes of your ass. You shiver as his fingers sweep inward, collecting the wetness that has coated the soft skin there. His palm trades in his hold on your throbbing scalp to instead drag his thumbs through your slit. You dare not move from this position. His thumbs part your swollen lips, sliding through the velveteen flesh until he finds your weeping entrance.      

Daemon purrs as he sinks his middle finger inside of you, all the way to the base and without resistance. You keen and fist the grass under you. Your walls stretch around the second finger he stabs into you, lazily thrusting the digits in and out. Heat burns your cheeks at the wet sounds your body makes. Though there’s not much time to enjoy Daemon’s fingers—he’s impatient as they come. 

He kneels up straight and shuffles closer. You gasp as you feel him, hot and straining against your thigh. Daemon strokes his cock, knuckles scraping against your pussy as if to tease you. You wine and push your hips back, your self respecting dwindling to ash. 

Daemon brings the blunt tip of himself to your cunt and rocks his hips coating his cock in your slick. “Tell me you need it.”

His hand is back in your hair, pulling at the strands. You don’t need much encouragement. You force your tongue into coherency. “Please—I…I need it, my Prince. N-need you.”

Daemon snickers and rubs a comforting hand over the base of your spine. And then, with little warning, he sheaths the entirety of his length inside of your aching center. You screech, gouging your fingers through the damp earth and scrabbling for some sort of stability. He’s big—bigger than what you’ve taken in the past and your cunt pulses and struggles to accommodate him. Daemon only laughs, a breathless taunt, as his fingers leave behind bruises in the shape of him. “Fuck, you’re tight. Does it hurt, little shadow?”

“No,” you squeak. And for the most part it’s true—your walls burn, and a dull ache settles deep inside of you as Daemon’s cock touches the end of you. But your wetness aids the glide and sets the burning nerves alight with crackling ecstasy. You bow your head, resting your forehead on your forearm as Daemon rocks his narrow hips. The experimental pace trips into something harsher, encouraged by the breathless squeaks he pushes out of you. His hands anchor over your hips, aiding the brutal rhythm of his cock slamming into your tight heat.     

You lose yourself to this pleasure—washed out to sea to drown in the waves. For the first time since meeting Daemon, he speaks your name to the heavens, but you don’t even recognize it. Can’t recognize it—the syllables are to foreign and grating to your eardrums. These frenzied moments are a blur of white-hot embers, smoke and ash and hard fingertips littering your skin with crescent moon indents. Bites, laden with heavy kisses leech out the sting as you moan and whimper. You roll your hips and arch your back in a way you’d find positively deplorable if you were coherent enough to form proper thoughts.

“Greedy fucking shadow—”

You like that better than your name—that’s who you are—who you always will be to him. It all makes sense with that name tumbling against the ridges of your spine with the cutting lips that follow it. Damp skin and sticky fingers wind around your legs spread legs, fingers slipping over you cunt before the resettle and touch your clit. Daemon presses down on your clit, bucks his hips, swollen cock inside you twitching as your walls squeeze him. He pants against your ear, fingers slipping round and round over your clit. You’re so full, so fucking full that your legs tremble and your toes curl. Everything tightens like a vice, stars scattering behind your eyelids. All that you are is some writhing sweaty mess, biting at your forearm. It’s a gargantuan task, struggling to your elbows, and rocking back as much as you can. Fuck—all you can think about is Daemon—

“Stop wriggling and just fucking take it,” Daemon bites. Saliva or maybe blood, dribbles down your shoulder, your collarbone, and wets the moss below.  

You cry as the edge beckons and explodes. He catches you up whilst you’re faced with the precipice of orgasm. Daemon grabs at your hair, wrenching your head to face the gnarled face of the heartwood. “Scream my name to your Old Gods.” 

You do. Oh, you do, Gods forgive this as you implode and split at the seams. The hard heat of his belly presses through his tunic and sits flush against your back, the line of your spine curved into the pounding echo of his heartbeat. He hasn’t stopped—he still thrusts into your cunt in search for his own end. Your stomach flips as Daemon hooks his elbow under your knee flips you onto your back. 

His length slips free, only to be guided back inside of you once he drapes your thighs around his waist. You throw your head back and claw at his tunic, wheezing when his hand ensnares your neck and restricts your air. He is a mass of burning stardust, a winged fragment of space that burns bright as the sun. People will never be able to understand the true form of him. Yet they still fear the catalogue of coalesced volcanic ash and anger. The wildness. His many black-tinted hungers. You will always tenderly tell yourself that he nothing to be afraid, as if his mouth were not filled with blood. 

You are not made to burn like this, you are a creature of ice and snow, yet you still risk dragon fire. Holding you like a moth to a flame—you let him blind you, igniting your heart and allowing his heat to incinerate all he cares to take. “Look at me,” he commands.    

The inferno rages around you, his hips swinging freely in a stuttered rhythm only meant to service him. There is no concern for you in these fleeting moments, you’re only a means to end, but fuck—it still feels good. Still rubs against nerves that spark and ignite with each thrust. His cock pounds into you, the Godswood filled with sounds of your rough joining, abdomen scraping over your clit. A knowing smirk splits across his face as you cum once more—convulsing and jittery. You reach for him and twist your fingers into his hair—Daemon allows it. With one last wheezy sputter of his name from your lips, he’s done for. 

You choke as the full weight of him collapses onto you—his hips shoving his twitching cock as deep as it will go into your cunt. Warmth floods your insides as he cums, his fragile moaning a delight to your ringing ears. Soon, he settles, panting into the column of your throat, pulse racing. 

Right when its feels as though he will crush your ribcage, Daemon lifts himself and cups your jaw. You blink, eyes hazy with exhaustion and lust. 

“Open,” he orders. You do so without a fight and open your mouth. Perverse joy flickers in his eyes. “Good.” 

Your eyes bulge as he spits into your mouth. You don’t have time to feel conflicted over the way your body roars with a new wave of arousal, because he’s kissing you. Devouring your bruised mouth with tongue and teeth—it leaves you breathless. You don’t like the way your heart yearns for more when Daemon pulls away. He skates his thumb up your jawline, admiring the way your softness catches on his calloused skin. There’s no fuss, nor any words spoken as he pulls his cock free from you, only a hiss through clenched teeth. His spend dribbles out of your cunt and paints your inner thighs—a beautiful canvass of sin and debauchery. 

He stands, readjusts his trousers and reaches for his abandoned sword. He ties the scabbard to his belt and turns on his heel. “Do be careful on your way back to your rooms, Lady Stark,” he tosses over his shoulder. “Who knows what filth lurks in the dark.” 

You bite your lip and watch him pace away, melding into the dark. You lift your eyes to the canopy of leaves overhead and sigh. They shiver and twist in the gentle breeze. “Gods above—forgive me.”  

#sorry it ain't great but yeehaw #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #game of thrones #house of dragons #matt smith #rhaenyra #daemon targaryen x you

[nrilliree]

I’m late to the fanfic discourse party but I need to give me 2 cents lmao

Rhaenyra in canon: wanted a daughter more than anything, is a good mother and loves her children more than anything in the world. doesn’t poison her children against their own family. protects her children.

Alicent in canon: physically abusive, daughter won’t even allow physical touch. sons are psycho and rapists. turns her children against their half sister and her kids. makes her kids pain about herself. thinks she’s protecting her children against imagined threats.

tg fanfics: so this is rhaenyras daughter and rhaenyra absolutely despises her, just fucking hates her, absolutely loathes her and is a terrible mother to her but you know WHO is a good mother to her Alicent Hightower; she absolutely loves and cherishes rhaenyras daughter and is the best mum ever to her and rhaenyras daughter tells everyone about her bastard brothers.

Like BITCH if Rhaenyra had a daughter, alicent would hate her ass and she’d hate alicent too.

Like I get the purpose of fanfiction is you can do whatever you want but the level of delusion in some of them is insane.

I need someone to write a counter fanfic of all this and it’s just Baela beating this imagined daughter who hates rhaenyra and vice versa’s ass.

I think that authors of such fanfiction are simply looking for an excuse so that their Mary Sue could abandon her family for love - her ideal Aemond. If Rhaenyra was a good mother, it would make Mary Sue (Maery Sue in this case🤔?) look bad and wouldn't be such an ideal character if she betrayed her mother. But if you make Rhaenyra a mean bitch and a terrible mother who favors her bastards, then Maery Sue is justified and still perfect. The plot was saved!

A lot of fic fans have a problem with mothers and children.

Time travel? Rhaenyra immediately goes to Daemon and doesn't even think about missing her three sons with Harvin, because why, when she can have new blond children? Why miss those bastards? Alicent is the same - usually not a single thought about her children.

"Fix it Rhaencent" - Alicent abandons her children and goes to Rhaenyra to help her win the war... and she doesn't think about her children.

I don't know what it's about, maybe the children are just disturbing and we need to get rid of them.

#house of the dragon #team black #anti team green #pro team black #rhaenyra targaryen

[redisveryyummy]

Late night modern hotd music headcanons :D

Rheanyra loves Beyonce so fucking much dude

She feels like she would have one playlist and it's just called boss bitch or something

Reputation is the only Taylor Swift album she constantly listens to and evermore but we won't talk about that

Former theater kid, if you disagree argue with the wall

I am a strong believer that she is a fan of musicals/romcoms and her and her boys have a movie night where they watch their favorites and sing every song word for word

(Daemon does not participate)

ESPECIALLY MAMMA MIA

Rheanyra singing "Slipping Through My Fingers" to Jace and/or Luke has me sobbing my eyes out dude

Jace, Luke, and Joffery singing "Honey Honey" omg

JACE AND (INSERT S/O OF YOUR CHOICE PROBABLY CREGAN) SINGING "LAY YOUR LOVE ON ME" TO EACH OTHER AGHSBSUDBHD

Daemon listens to dad rock and dubstep exclusively, nothing else

Bro is literally the cbat guy

Daemon is really the kind of guy that would be like "there's this band but you probably wouldn't know it because it's so underground" and it's literally Weezer

Alicent loves her yearning music

Phoebe Bridgers, Frankie Cosmos, Laufey, Mitski, Conan Gray

Two words. BOY. GENIUS.

Her and Rheanyra have TOTALLY gone to many boy genius concerts together

folklore folklore folklore

Aegon 😐😑😐

Cbat guy 2.0

Listens to WAY to much house music

No real music taste

Whatever is on the radio, but like the radio in 2016 you know?? Or like late 2000's

1989 (Taylor's Version) he's not a monster lol

Usher (that's the only person I can think of rn lol)

Aemond only listens to classical music or weird experimental jazz because he thinks it makes him different

Activity hates on Taylor Swift for all the wrong reasons

Secretly likes her a little and is way too excited for The Tortured Poets Department

Helaena is so whimsical I love her sm <3

Very much into indie stuff with down to earth vibes

Hozier, The Crane Wives, Noah Kahn, Everybody's Worried About Owen, Bears in Trees, Maya Hawk

"Why Am I Like This" by Orla Gartland...iykyk

Jacaerys Velaryon is an Arianna Grande FAN I don't make the rules

Him, Beala, and Rheana definitely have little dance parties whenever they come over

Loves Ari and Brittany

Also enjoys country music

He gets it from his daddy 🥰

Taylor Swifts Self Title is his everything

LUCERYS VELARYON IS A THEATER KID I REPEAT LUCERYS VELARYON IS A THEATER KID

It's all his mom's fault

His playlists are all just musical soundtracks

Little Shop of Horrors, Heathers, The Falsettos, RIDE THE CYCLONE, BE MORE CHILL, Dear Evan Hansen, Hamilton

Same with the Hazbin Hotel soundtrack y'all don't even know

Luke loves "Hell is Forever"

Also bro has a HORRIBLE singing voice

Anyway I will probably have more tomorrow but that is what I got for tonight :))

#house of the dragon #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #alicent hightower #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #hotd modern au #modern!hotd #headcanon #hotd headcanon #music

[bohemian-nights]

Nettles is not in the dragonseeds storyline for season 2 at all. I don’t know if she will be in season 3 but the fact she won’t be involved at all in her main storyline from the book is worrying. What if they genuinely do cut her?

Her lack of involvement along with all the other plots I’ve heard(Weak Boy #1 pining after Helaena, then showing Daemon sleeping with everyone who doesn’t matter to avoid him sleeping with others, what they did with Laena back in s1), this show appears to have a problem with Black-ish women and I refuse to give them actual views until they put Nettles on.

(And even then HBO won’t be getting another dime from me after all the crap they’ve pulled).

Still I don’t think she’s cut because they have her dragon there/Silver Denys and Maidenpool is being set up.

However, it’s obvious they are stalling for time and view her as nothing more than a plot device when she’s more integral than most of the new secondary characters they are adding combined.

She’s always there where they are not. That’s why I say if she’s cut it’s due to the writers thinking they can pull a fast one and people won’t care cause this fandom dislikes that she even exists.

It’s not actually because she’s irrelevant, she is important to the plot. She has broader implications for the story, but they do know she makes the fandom uncomfortable(look at the top post with a thousand notes in her tag by someone who supposedly “likes” her or how posts on her don’t get much engagement).

Team Green, team Black, it doesn’t matter. You guys have one thing in common and that’s hating the Black girl that was loved and lived while your faves died. Which is why people keep trying to make her into a pity case to cope(oh she should be cut from the show; oh it’s so sad somehow how she wound up away from Westeros society and a freaking goddess).

But I’m not supposed to say that because then I’m being a bitch and y’all(not you anon but others) go crying, harassing me, and still stalking me despite blocking me cause I called your card🙃

Hell, she makes them(showrunners) uncomfortable too so they are stalling until they absolutely have to include her lest they get called out for what they are.

Honestly think they cut Daeron from this season to make it look less obvious that she’s the only main secondary character missing. Can’t claim racism(even though that’s what it fucking is) when they’ve cut Daeron too.

#bnasks #bnask #nettles #anti hotd #anti hotd fandom #hotd fandom misogynoir

[liaa--qb]

do you think that team black Stans takes this hotd war topic too much And They are very much hypocrite ?? I was new in this fandom and stand with team black. I hate to say this many of them spoil whole fun on Twitter debate.I have seen their jealousy alot at Aemond getting more attention than some of their characters by audience.They made stories about him like he r@ped Alys.They would have hated daeron if he was there since first season lmao. What's your take on team black stans. Don't mistake me as a Aemond wife. I am against team green but admitting I kinda liked his character only as villian. Helaena is the only person I love in team green

EXACTLY ! This..... EXACTLY this.. see firstly m not a team supporter or stan here. I am just enjoying d show till it's tolerable😅. I just want a good show dat's it. I am not on Twitter thankfully, I am well aware what goes on there n you can hate Aemond all u want. He's a villian ofcourse 🙏🏻

Fire and blood was boring but show has chance to be better atleast though if they ever want to try😑... Regarding ur take , it's gonna be bit long now as I don't do this long stuff unless it's a fic😭

lemme tell the truth now.... ik many dumb ones are not gonna like it 😂

yes there are majority of hypocrite team black Stans who would make up these bullshits mainly with Aemond like "they gave Jace's qualities to Aemond, Aemond r*ped Alys". Jace's one was the most random 😂

bitch... like where you thought after reading the book n watching show that they gave Jace's qualities to Aemond 💀😭 ??? Where... I read the book too😂. My friends who actually introduced me to hotd who are book purists too , even they laughed on this theory when I told them.

" Jace and Aegon were adapted exactly the way they were in the books ! " It's a fact Listen I love Tom Glynn Carney too (like how can you not🥵) but sorry to those Aegon girlies who were just saying that they forcefully made Aegon a r*pist. He was like this in the book very much. They both were shown correctly how they should have been in s1.

Both green and blacks were given some good and bad shots equally in show. Bad n good shots for God's sake doesn't mean one is Angel and other one being devil. It's about writing or storyline regarding both teams. N this whole jealousy or hypocrisy towards Aemond of some team black stans is nothing but a childish stupidity to me and it's obvious that Aemond would get alot attention in show than many N y not ? 🤦🏻‍♀️

[ top 3 characters from both teams will get attention. Show will be divided into two teams from Team black it's Rhaenyra, Daemon , Colrys n (someone with corlys) who would be focused more N from team Green it would Alicent, Aegon, Aemond. Majority of Attention would be given to Rhaenyra, Alicent n Aegon as they are main 3 . It should be very much clear to every person who read the book , to me it was as I read only after watching the S1 trailer. Wasn't this very much obvious in the book. ]

Also Aemond never r*ped or assaulted Alys in the book. We never got inside of their relationship in book. He can in the show though🤷🏻‍♀️.... if makers want to. He took her as war prize which was very much common for every guy winning war.

Honestly Alys was far yrs older fucking powerful witch😭 she would eat Aemond alive be fr if she wanted to. She would have killed him way easily in starting itself . Yes there relationship was problematic n it was power imbalance both sides. They both were using each other. Aemond was clearly under her spell or either for her powers and so was Alys. Who was taking her best from Aemond's position whatever she could get from both sides.

If Grrm lit wanted to show that Aemond r*ped Alys he would have done it very well like he does this with his all other characters who were actually r@pists but he didn't. On the contrary side he wrote Aemond as evil goth twink who never wanted to scare the ladies at court n wore eye patch bcz of that😂. Same guy was making out with his floris and fell hard under spell of strong bastard witch calling her 'my lady !'

Let me clear that also Aemond not being a r@pist doesn't make him a less bad person either. He was a sadist tyrant n murderer psychopath in book. This is what made him a villian or bad guy. But the problem with some team black Stans is that they knew that audience will start giving him the ' typical Kylo ren' treatment which he's getting. ( Idk how one cannot see this coming after reading dance of d in FNB, it was very much predicted I knew it). They don't want to give any good points to any team green characters in their silly game. Like as if audience don't hype bad guys more than good guys😑.

Same way when same audience hyped Daemon more than Harwin then they don't have any problem but if audience likes Aemond n Daeron more than team black kids then their ass hate to see this n would write whole new made up reasons for not to like any team green member while cheering any other character which they like for same thing.

Funny thing is that many team black daemon lovers would write how he was right man, he killed all r*pist from city while this is the same daemon who fucks literally little girls who are prostitutes n loves it which is very much written in book. Ofcourse mysaria was with him since her childhood. As prostitutes have no other options. Taking prince like daemon and Aegon was better for their survival.

He is canon p*dophile in book but yes if Aemond is r@pist then Daemon's account of doing r@pe is way higher than Aemond even before when Aemond was born. Now why would those black Stans admit this ? 😂 never....... Believe me when I say that some of them are that level of jokers who would say that Maegor is good and daeron is bad just because he is from team green.

I really like daemon too n daemon had his bad qualities n good qualities both 🧡atleast I like the way he is . It clearly shows that some Stans they cannot even like or hate the character for what they are. They are dumbass kids watching some cartoon fight with two team. They just want to hate one team for any reason n like other team for any random reason

Mind you....many of them even hate Helaena unnecessary but same time would love Laena and for what ????🤡🤡

what I hated regarding Aemond in show :-

now things I accept that Aemond not killing Luce was very much wrong and I hated that too. Because it was not good for plot tbh for me. It's just messing up with already messed up world building. Aemond as a villian got a very much reason to Luce n y should he not ? now that's thing I genuinely think that was done wrong regarding Aemond's character, people hating it is very much justified because it very much makes luc's death stupid rather than sad.

But making up reasons like they gave everything to Aemond like they didn't made Aemond totally bad during drift mark scene as we get sympathy for rhaena n we understood her reason for being angry on Aemond atleast n Aemond insulting her. but in books it's lit Nyra's kids who were not minding their own business n Aemond was just beating them n throwing them far away from him instead of killing them with rock like in the show but ofcourse this wasn't visible to team black Stans. Because in the book honestly Aemond was very much correct during drift mark scene.

They removed viserys's taunting Aemond regarding dragon which was very important.

They showed Harwin beating Criston but we all know it was Criston who took both Harwin and Daemon easily and so many of I started to count regarding team green were done equally wrong.

just see the dumbness and hyporcrisy I once saw Darkling and rhys Stans saying bullshit about Aegon and Aemond 😂😂. Same Darkling who physically assaulted Alina, abused her. The one who gave little girls like Genya to get r@ped by the old hag king for his benefit n

the way LB wrote him I can very say that she hated him as well. And Rhys is whole another level bullshit 😂if started to write. They were not even a good written bad guys. These same idiots would typing whole ass reasons to like them. It's funny that Darkling supporters would hate Otto hightower as if they aren't the same thing 🤣. Otto slays more as compared Darkling.

many of them pretend to care about representation saying that 'Jace should not have Sara n it would hurt baela n would make her unwanted ' while same time giving thousand reasons of there was nothing bet Nettles and Daemon so that it would not harm their Daemyra. So many of them were happy when there wasn't any news regarding nettles. ( It's not only team black , many of team green stans r equally hypocrite here you asked me of team black )

#house of dragons #hotd fandom #aemond targaryen #got fandom #hotd jace #jace velaryon #aegon ii targaryen #discussion #hotd discussion #hotd discourse #team black #team green #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x alicent #baela targaryen #nettles asoiaf #fire and blood

[doxypsychlean]

hello! I absolutely LOVED "The Rogue Prince" fic and your works are so fascinating in general like i'm in love. If you accept reqs, what do you think about Deamon seeing his wife crying for the first time? Like yes it's an arranged marriage but they're developing the feelings and the reader is insecure about not being a sweet little wife. She's opposite to that ideal (mb she's tall/on the bigger side/not weak and absolutely can speak for herself not being in need to be always protected (mentally at least) and maybe she's the opposite of- hm, someone) and is so sure Deamon needs someone perfect, someone who's just not her. I don't really know if I want an honest reaction or just to be comforted so you can choose. (but happy ending is highly appreciated) It's ok if you don't feel like it! Stay hydrated! Thank u in advance!

Sapphire Tears

Daemon Targaryen x Tarth!Reader

Warnings: blood

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: The way Anon described the reader reminded me sm of my beloved Brienne, I just had to write the readers as a Tarth.

"If only the Prince would show the same devotion to his lady wife as he does his work, Your Grace." Otto Hightower said, eyes trained on the ring on his right hand.

Then the Hand of the King looked up, directly at the Rogue Prince.

"You've not been seen in the Sapphire Isle or at Evenfall Hall for quite some time." The man said, brows knitted together.

"I think my blue bitch is happier for my absence." Daemon responded with a slight smile.

His brother, King Viserys, turned to look from Lord Hightower to Daemon, one eyebrow raiser and his forehead wrinkled.

"Lady Tarth is your wife, a good and honorable warrior and the Evenstar of Tarth"

"In Tarth, men are said to fuck sea lions instead of women." The Rogue Prince spat out, looking away from Otto. Viserys dropped his head in defeat, letting a sigh escape him at his brother's words. Daemon looked back at Otto, a disgusted expression on his face. "I can assure you, the sea lions are prettier."

"Dear me" The Master of Coin, Lord Lyman Beesbury, whispered in shock. Daemon didn't hear it. He had gone too far, he knew it.

His blue bitch, as he'd come to call her, was anything but. She was by no means an ugly creature. If he had to be honest, his lady wife was easy on the eyes. But she was strong, stronger than any woman Daemon had ever seen. The woman was a walking mountain, towering over almost everyone around her. She had no care for appearance or anything ladylike. No one, absolutely no one, had seen the Evenstar of Tarth in a dress before. She'd never shown interest in embroidery, dancing or singing, or learning how to play an instrument. Her calloused hands weren't used to the fine,delicate needles or the thin strings of a harp.

What she knew was the feeling of a sword in her hand. The first time they'd met, the lady was in the training grounds of Evenfall Hall. Mercilessly swinging at her squire as she was trying to teach the boy how to fight.

That's what angered Daemon. He was sent off to marry a knight. A woman knight. One that was far better than him. She was fast, she was strong and fought like a true warrior. He hated her for it. He hated how much he envied her.

A savage. A brute with long, luscious hair and eyes as blue as sapphires and as deep as the Narrow Sea. Freckled porcelain skin, a small scar here and there. Slender fingers, but strong grip. Sharp tongue and even sharper mind. Strength that rivaled the one of the storms that rocked Shipbreaker Bay.

She was loud, she was stubborn, she never bowed down to anyone, she wasn't scared to get in someone's face and then knock them to the dirt. She had her own way of going through life. One that didn't include him.

She liked being alone. And even if she didn't, she'd got used to it. While her late father was still alive and carried the title of Evenstar of Tarth himself, the old lord had tried to find a good match for her. But to no avail. All the noble men were either scared, jealous of her or didn't see it fit for their wife to be so...unladylike. The blonde also made sure to give them every reason to decline the offer.

She didn't need a husband. She didn't want one.

Then that letter from the King arrived. He had to get Daemon as far away from the capital. Tarth was one of his best options. Lord Tarth put his foot down, agreeing to the match despite his daughter's protests.

"You made a vow to the Seven to honor your wife in marriage." Otto's harsh voice pulled Daemon back to reality.

"Well, I'd gladly give Lady Tarth to you, Lord Hightower, if you're in want of a woman to warm your bed." Daemon said, head shaking lightly. "Your own lady wife passed recently."

Lord Hightower rose to his feet, the chair he'd been sitting on dragging on the floor as it got pushed back. He stared down at Daemon, daring him to continue.

"Did she not?" The Prince asked, taunting the Lord Hand some more. His fingers ran over the marble egg that was in front of him.

"Otto." Viserys cut through the growing tension.

Lord Hightower didn't respond. He swayed a bit, putting the weight of his body from one leg to the other. His eyes never leaving Daemon.

"Perhaps you aren't ready to move on just yet." Daemon mimicked Otto's movement, head tilting to the side slightly.

"You know how my brother makes sport of provoking you." Viserys said, trying to bring his Hand back to his senses. "Must you indulge him?"

"My apologies, Your Grace." Otto sat back down, eyes staring at Daemon and through him. His voice barely above a whisper.

It hurt. Daemon knew it. For all that sleazy old man was, Otto truly and undoubtedly loved his late wife. The Prince offered an innocent smile, teeth digging into his lower lip so he wouldn't laugh out.

"This council has, at great expense, bettered the City Watch to your exacting standards." Daemon turned to look at his King, fingers drumming against the polished wood of the table. "Enforce my laws, but understand, any further performances like last night's will be answered."

The two brothers smiled at eachother. Daemon looked down at the table and back up, nodding his head.

"Understood, Your Grace."

The Rogue Prince averted his eyes, then got up. He picked his sword up and made his way towards the exit, the gold cloak on his shoulder trailing behind him as he walked.

────────────

"Prince Daemon!" The man that had been said to welcome him said. "We did not expect to see you. The Lady..."

The silver haired prince walked past him, hands rubbing together. He could hear Caraxes let out a roar as the dragon pushed off the ground and started flying in circles over Evenfall Hall.

"Where is my wife?" Daemon stopped suddenly, the man almost slamming in his back.

"I'm afraid Lady Tarth isn't here, my Prince..." The man whispered as he took a step back. "She's..."

Daemon turned around slowly, a smirk on his face. He closed the distance between him and the man, hands wrapping around his collar and lifting him up.

"And you couldn't be bothered to tell me before I got off?"

"I...I tried." The man stuttered. "She's..."

Daemon put him back down, one hand reached to dust off the man's shoulder.

"I know exactly where she is." The Prince let out a low laugh, the sound coming from deep inside his chest.

Daemon shoved the man away, walking back to where Caraxes had landed. The beast saw him immediately, then dropped back down. The ground underneath Daemon's feet shook at the impact.

"Ready for a little hunt?"

A growl, accompanied by a whistling, clicking sound came from the dragon, as if it was laughing at its rider's words. Daemon climbed on the dragon's back and once seated, pat the side of its wide neck.

Caraxes pushed its large body off the ground once more, wings spreading out.

────────────

"Keep moving, Edwyn." The woman huffed as she climbed up the steep hill. "We're almost there."

The boy let out a huff, feet slipping on the wet ground.

"My lady, I still think we should have taken the Blue Road." He let out a yelp as her hand wrapped around his collar before the boy could tumble all the way down to the bottom. He let out a relieved laugh. "Maybe on horseback?"

"The Blue would've let us away from our destination, Ed." She pulled him forward so he could walk in front of her. "And watch where you're going. I have no use of a squire with snapped neck."

The two chuckled as they kept pushing up.

"I still don't understand why we had to go all the way here..." Edwyn trailed off.

"The farther away from my hall, the better." She admitted as her hand reached out for him again. "Gods be good, Edwyn, watch it!"

"Apologies, my lady." The boy laughed again. "But I don't understand... 'Tis your halls we are talking about."

"And?"

"I'm just saying, my lady, you shouldn't be hiding away." He turned to look at her. "It does no good."

She pulled him back before he could fall again. Then turned the boy around. Edwyn let out a gasp as he saw what laid before him.

The sound of water pounding down on stone drained any thought from his head. He looked up at the top off the waterfall, then his eyes went back down with the water. Despite it beating down on the giant rocks, the pool it was pouring in, was as calm as a lamb. The crown of green leaves that surrounded this peaceful haven, had left just enough space for the sunlight to pass through and bounce off of the light blue water.

She walked past him, coming to a stop right before the pool. The woman sat down, back resting against one of the larger rocks next to the waters. Edwyn shook himself out of the trance as he walked towards her. He winked, then with a big jump, got on top of the same rock. He sat down, eyes going back to stare at where the waterfall met with the pool.

"I hate the way they look at me..." Her voice tore through the silence. "As if there's something wrong with me."

"My lady..." The squire tried to stop her.

"No, Ed." She raised one hand, finger pointing up at the sky. "Don't. You can see it just as well as I can."

The trees around them shook slightly, leaves rustling as a large red dragon landed on top of the waterfall. Neither of them heard the load thud, the sound of the water completely draining out any other. Nor did they sense its rider's presence behind them, head of silver-white hair coming to stand between the trees, hiding in the shadows.

"You know, I've tried to be like them. Back when I was but a girl." The woman said as she reached down and took one of small, flat rocks in her hand. She tossed it at the water, the stone jumping once, twice, three times before sinking to the bottom of the pool. "I tried to put down the sword. Shove myself in a dress. Spend time with those insufferable cows."

Both her and her squire laughed. Daemon let out a snort, quiet enough for them to not hear.

"But I can't. That's not me." The blonde looked up the boy. "So I accepted it. I'll always be a fighter, and one day- the Lady of Tarth. Take over once my father was gone from the world. Rule."

She took another stone and tossed it into the water.

"I knew I had to take the hand I've been dealt. I quite enjoy it, actually. Ruling. I kept getting better. At it, at fighting. Even became a knight."

"Twas not enough?" Her squire asked.

"No, Ed. It wasn't." She shook her head with a bitter laugh. "Oh, how I wish it was..."

It went awfully quiet. The woman didn't know if she should say it. Of course, it'd be only her loyal squire and friend, Edwyn Tudbury, that would hear the words.

"I tried to ignore them." Her voice had become unsteady. "It's always behind my back, those cowards wouldn't dare say any of it to my face. But I'm not deaf, Ed. Nor am I blind."

Daemon watched as the boy jumped off the rock, then sat down next to his wife.

"The Beast of Tarth, the Sapphire Beauty..." Tears rolled down her face. "Blue bitch."

"My lady, I'm sure the Prince..." The squire said as he wrapped a hand around her shoulder.

"Oh please, you know it just as well as I do." Her head dropped down, pools of gold hair hiding her face from him. And from Daemon. "He didn't want me. I didn't want him either."

"Then why?"

"My father. He came to me one day, said he'd found a good match. The best match I could ever hope for." The woman straightened up. Edwyn's hand dropped from her shoulders as she did. "He also said if I don't accept, he would strip me off my titles, make me renounce my claim and exile me."

The boy let out a shocked gasp. He wrapped his hand around the woman once more.

"Oh, friend...I'm so,so sorry."

"It's fine, Ed." She whispered. "I'm fine."

She wasn't. Daemon could see it. On her face. In the way her hand rose to her chest and clutched at the pastel blue tunic, right over her heart.

"You don't deserve this. I'm really sorry."

"If you were to ask them..." She pointed towards right where Daemon was standing. Unfortunately for him, Edwyn followed her hand. His eyes widened at the sight of the Rogue Prince, hiding behind a tree. Daemon quickly put the pointer finger of his right hand against his lips, silent plead for the boy to keep quiet. "That's exactly what I deserve. It's even too much."

She got up, hands stretching out. The woman looked up at waterfall. There- two big yellow eyes. Red scales. Sharp teeth. She let out a chuckle.

"Just think about it, Ed. The poor, handsome Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, doomed to spend to rest of his life with..." She pointed towards herself. "...a fucking monster. This giant, savage brute."

The blonde winked at the boy in front of her, knowing look in her puffy,red eyes. Edwyn had spent enough time around her to know what that meant. He decided to play along.

"At least he's got the wits to stay away and not be tortured by your monstrosity." The squire said as he got on his feet and then back on top of the rock.

Daemon felt his whole body twitch at the boy's words. He almost lunged forward, but the hand he'd wrapped around the tree stopped him. The Rogue Prince was ready to tear his throat open.

"If only he had the wits to not spy on me, Ed..." They both turned to stare at the silver haired man. "Have you anything to say for yourself, husband?"

Daemon felt the tips of his ears starting to burn, his face reddening.

"Come now. Don't just stand there."

The flap of giant wings interrupted them. Daemon rolled his eyes as he walked out of the shadows. His only escape plan had just flown off to wherever its heart wanted. The Prince had no other choice, but to face her.

"I was looking for you." He said as he leaned against the rock. "You weren't at Evenfall Hall."

"Why are you here?" The woman hissed out as she walked towards him. Daemon pushed off the rock, their noses almost touching as he did. "It's not enough that you make a fool out of me, desert me and call me names in front of anyone, hm? You've come to rattle the beast's cage yourself?"

"My lady!" Edwyn tried to pull her away, but she shoved him away.

"No." The blonde turned to look at the squire, her long hair smacking Daemon in the face. The Prince smiled. "He's on my land without making his intentions clear."

"Wouldn't it be my land too?" Daemon's voice reached her ears. "I am your husband, like it or not."

She smiled down at Edwyn, foot tapping on the ground.

"My lady, please..." Edwyn tried once more.

But it was too late. She swung at Daemon, fist colliding with his nose. The Prince stumbled back, almost losing his footing.

"This is the last time I ask." She shook her hand up and down as the other one reached for Daemon's chestplate. She wrapped her fingers around the neckline, then pulled Daemon up and towards her. "Why are you here?"

As Daemon wiped at the blood coming from his nose, his eyes trailed to her red,blotchy cheeks. A tear was rolling down each one of them.

"Care to join me for a ride?" Daemon nodded up at the sky. "After we escort your squire back home, that is."

The woman huffed before letting go of Daemon. A smile crept up her face. The Rogue Prince returned it with one of his.

"Fine. Go get your winged lizard back."

#hotd fanfic #hotd #game of thrones #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #tarth!reader #daemon targaryen x tarth!reader #house of the dragon #dance of dragons

[a0random0gal]

Criston calls the woman who coerced him into sex a cunt ONCE and hes a raging misogynist... he said no 😭😭 i finished the series on the weekend and got into the fandom just a little AND THE BULLSHIT I HAVE SEEN, to an extent i understand, theres an inherent distrust of men who clearly dont like a woman and express that (butttt i mean people are actually shipping blonde bitch with her blonde bitch uncle or stanning him and he's... actually sexist and awful but... wtf(not to say you cant like shit characters, its just the hypocrisy), and the show is very clearly on blonde womans side of things so i get that some fans are just gonna follow that and not think about it. BUT IF YOU DO think about it it dont make sense

also why did alicent marry her kids together, ive heard that in the books old king man did it and that its kinda against alice's religion? could have misheard head that and maybe i missed the explanation but that never made sense to me.

Oh how I get you anon, when I first entered the fandom I too was bombarded with these posts hating on Criston, Alicent and the greens and was left speechless. And yes, on one hand it can be excused (to a certain extent) but on the other it highlights their hypocrisy.

Hating on the kingsguard who was coerced into sex? That's completely excusable how dare he insult our kween!

Insinuating that their little malewife is actually a horrible misogynist who calls every woman he dislikes a whore/bitch and literally CHOKES his wife for not wanting to immediately go to war ( after also not consoling following a stillbirth)?

You just don't get his character, he's our little meow meow!

These Daemon fangirls aren't older than fifteen in my opinion lmao.

Regarding Aegon and Helaena's marriage, yes in the show Ali betrothes them but in the books Viserys is the one to do it, and there are various reasons as to why:

It removes the risk of alliances. If the green kids had all been married to powerful noble houses like the Baratheons, Tyrells etc... The risk that during the dance they would have sided with the greens was quite high, and Viserys wanted to defend Rhaenyra's claim.

Helaena was Ali's only daughter, and since she was to be married this young it made sense that the queen wanted to keep her close to her.

Aegon is a better alternative than Jace, Viserys probably told her that he wanted to marry Helaena to either Aegon or Jace, and Ali would have never accepted a marriage with a bastard.

It simply follows the Targaryen tradition of "keeping the blood pure"

This one is fucked up but, it was thought to be a solution to Aegon's drinking problem and sex addiction, it wasn't.

Regarding Alicent's faith... I imagine seeing her kids marrying each other was super freaky, but she always knew that Targaryens married within the family and her marriage with Viserys was an exeption. Also the faith of the seven by that time had already decided to tolerate Targcest.

#Daemon also bashed his first wife's head in with a rock #Weird mf #house of the dragon #hotd #alicent hightower #pro team green #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #anti viserys i targaryen #anti daemon targaryen #pro criston cole #criston cole #asks

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

House of the dragon short read a summery for all those who have forgotten for season 2 and totally true to the facts and how it happened.

This might be the most chaotic shitpost recap I've ever seen.

Viserys: Nah I want a son.

Rhaenyra: Noo father I'm just as goooood.

Daemon: You have meeeee.

Viserys: No I want a son. Gimme one.

Aemma: nooo now I must dieeee. Here's your son tho.

Viserys; Aemma my uwu nooo

Baelon: FATHER I AM UR SON

viserys: yes u are uwu u are so cute lets make photos.

Maester: sire u should back off and let the kid breath Sire, no do not bring out the tide pods. Sire...SIRE!!!!

viserys: I'm off now that I have my photos for my dragongran with him and his first tidepod! This will bring in the likes and defeat Daemons unholy post.

Maester:*kills child* I hate targaryens I hate them I hate them I hate them. Stupid ugly white haired ppl

Baelon: well fuck you too you cunt. You think I want to be in this family? Ha. Jokes on you.

Viserys: NOOO MY SOON SOB SOB WHO DID THISSS

daemon: LETS FUCKING GOO IM THE TRUE HEIR YALL BETTER REMEMBER THIS. DRINKS ON THE TAP OF THE CROWN. THATS ME ANYWAY HAHA FUCK U BAELON U LOSER FOR ONE DAY.

Daemon when appearing for vizzy: Look we all make goofs & errors what's most important is where our hearts are at.

Viz: I'm convinced you have no heart!

Daemon: NAAAAAAH U CANT. IM UR HEIR

Viz: I already have a child. U are a child daemon. U are just not mine

Guards: OOOOOOHHHH

Viz: daemon you know where the trash goes. Follow it.

Viserys: I still want my boii

Aegon: I AM HERE FATHER. LOVE ME.

VISERYS: what the fuck are you. You can't be my son why ur hair like that.

Alicent: husband I'm like 17 and I got u a son. Ur other wifey failed to do that. Us hightowers have curls. Its a curse and a blessing.

Otto: maybe it's magic, maybe it's Hightower genetics.

Rhae: rude ass bitch all of you. Look at how cute he is. He's my baby brother I will protect him. SAY RHAERHAE

alicent: rhae he came out me a moment ago he can't talk yet.

Aegon: (as a baby to his sister) I am the superior one and u should fetch me a snack in the kitchen, you white haired wench.

Rhae:*handing back Aegon* nah u can have this shit back. Do us all a favour next time just go the targaryen way and let it die.

(We light the way)

Vizzy: I wanna fuck u (to alicent)

Alicent:( alright its my duty.

The most unpassionate scene:

Aemond, happily making his entrance in the show as a sperm: WIEEEEEE! Hahaha thank you gods, I won't let you down. I will bring chaos into this family!!!!

The gods; good, our little apprentice. Good.

Rhaenyra: I'm so sneaky hehe

Daemon and rhae rhae: *almost fuck each other*

Daemon: wait I can't I suddenly decided I have morals and standards. Also u just a child tf.

Rhaerhae: no what is this? Fuck you I'm nailing that dornish snack as if he's a lose screw in a IKEA shelf

Daemon: No not Crispin! Get baaaack

Rhaerha: Too late

Crispin: Ah yes. My fantasy is finally coming true!!!!

Crispin: My queen forget ur pathetic kingdom full of incest and forget that old fuck that is your father. Let us depart on a ship and start a life that will not raise questions at all with your hair and our new found riches.

Rhae: I am listening.

Crispin: We can sell...oranges

Rhae; Nah fuck this shit where are the bananas. I love bananas. U should go with your oranges if that makes you happy. Pathetic fruit picker. This is why my uncle bested u. If you relied on bananas none of this would have happened.

Crispin: Rhae rhae..

Rhae: NAH have u even tried defeating a yiga clan member with a orange? You never played zelda did you? And you call yourself a warrior? Out of my sight.

Crispin: but I love u. Why would you sit a comfortable throne instead of working your ass off with me in the fields?:(

Rhae: Honey I never worked a day in my life and I intend to keep that tradition.

Helaena at some point: MHEEWWWWHH

Alicent: he said he wanted a son, so zip it.

Helaena:*cries*

Rhae rhae: Kidnap me, make me your wife and slay my father's guards.

Viserys who can read their lips and understand Valyrian: What kind of wattpad fanfic is this shit. What's next Harry styles flying in on dragonback?

Harry styles: HELLO WESTEROS. THIS IS FOR OUR PRINCESS. ALL OF YOU; WATERMALEON SUGAR. HIGGGGGH.

Crowd: HIIGGGGGH.

Aemond in Alicents belly: Grgg *DEMONIC NOISES*

Alicent: why does rhaenyra get Harry styles and I all I get is traumas and struggles. Also why is prince daemon and her acting out duncon fics when I INTRODUCED RHAE RHAE TO WATTPAD AND HE GAVE ME HIS FAVOUR I HATE THIS AHHH.

Alicent; why am i so angry... I don't understand.

Aemond in her belly: MOAHAHAHA IT WORKS.

Ser Harwin strong; I really should not. It is against the rules.

Rhae rhae: *breathes*

Harwin: If they cut off my cock I still got my fingers-

---

Time skip

Aegon: I don't know what happened but suddenly I'm borderline rapist and I'm also a drunk and like long legged people because it reminded me of dinosaurs and I got that phase when my father still loved me.

Aemond: I'm kind of cute and sympathetic but you will hate me later. It's OK. I will get over it ;)

Helaena: I am the mighty seer. I know all. OOH SPIDERS.

---

Vhagar: (dreaming) a big strong dragon approaches vhagar and courts her with a beheaded child corpse. She takes it and they mate.

Vhagar, waking up: WHO DARES INTERRUPT MY DREAMS?!

aemond; shit she's so big

Vhagar:*pulling a knife* WANT TO REPEAT THAT.

Aemond: uhm no ma'am! May I...May I ride you

Vhagar; NO :) *goes to sleep*

Aemond: shit shit...

Aemond: OBEY.

vhagar; WHAT IS WITH YOU AND YOUR FAMILY ALWAYS WAKING ME UP. FIRST LAENA NOW YOU. LAENA HAS NOT EVEN MET SEBASTIAN YET UNDER THE SEA. DO YOU MIND IM MOURING HERE.

Aemond: I understand..

Aemond;...its just...

Aemond: the seaweed is always greener.

Vhagar: (sigh): in somebody else's lake

/

Don't ask.

I Don't know what the hell happend either.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aegon ii Targaryen #viserys #daeron #house of the dragon fanfiction #rhaenyra x criston #hotd rhaenyra #dark! #head the warnings #dubcon #possible triggering content #She/her reader #AFAB Reader #DarkFantasy #Possible noncon #Possible gore #Old work

[starkslydia]

my main problem with greens / rhaenicents on tw is that they just throw words. like… that’s all they do. and most of the time it’s either delusional / fabricated / hypocritical stuff so i try to not pay attention to them because if i don’t like something i just ignore it but honestly it’s reaching a point where it’s getting ridiculous. with the greens it’s just delusion and misogyny and their own little fucked up view of the dance but regarding rhaenicent stans there are a few things that really piss me off. i’m not even going to dwell on them calling other lesbians or bisexual women like me (essentially any sapphic) lesbophobic for… not liking their ship? when most of the time said sapphics enjoy rhaenyra x laena? so anyways there’s that. there’s also something about their obsession with stripping rhaenyra of every single thing that makes rhaenyra who she is. her children, her dragon blood, her rage and fury, her vengeance, her targaryen heritage, her connection with daemon which goes beyond understanding for non-targaryens. they want her to be an accessory for their favorite character, because they don’t give a single fuck about rhaenyra herself. most of them actually dislike her (just go on tw and you will see) and honestly at least for me enjoying a ship while hating half of it… makes no sense. there’s also the whole “you hate the idea of lesbians so much you prefer incest” like bitch those are targaryens?? this is house of the dragon?? targaryens are known for their incestuous marriages?? rhaenyra MARRIES daemon?? alicent marries her two children?? and going back to the whole not giving a fuck about rhaenyra, i’ve seen way too may greens / rhaenicents on tw accusing blacks / daemyras of “supporting dv” (well, and way worse things but whatever besties) when… most of them romanticized the knife scene, making jokes about it or saying how hot it was. and the fact that they undermine rhaenyra’s loss and grief to fuel their fantasy that “they still have a chance” as if alicent hadn’t usurped her throne, stole her birthright and accident or not, she is responsible for lucerys getting murdered. the fact that they wholeheartedly believe that rhaenyra has to (and will) forgive her for everything after not only making her life miserable for ten years, but also being the cause of her greatest pain is literally insane. but whatever, because at the end of the day all they care about is their little fantasy with no regards for rhaenyra at all. just keep your shitty takes on ao3 and stop being whiny delusional people <3

disclaimer: to the lovely rhaenicents that only wished that otto was gone and the dance had never happened so alicent and rhaenyra could be together, this is not for / because of you, y’all are lovely and i wish you a nice day <3

note: i’m not gonna argue with anyone so if u try to start a fight i’m gonna block u idc this is just my opinion !

#starkslydia rants #i woke up and chose violence #hotd #house of the dragon #daemyra #anti rhaenicent #rhaenyra targaryen