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author-morgan · 2 years

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Title: Rise by the Birdsong Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!Reader Rating: M Summary: In which you soothe Daemon's wounded ego and pride after he loses in a tournament. Warnings: Typically Westerosi shenanigans.

HE SUMMONS YOU to his chambers in the hours after the tourney and feast —the taste of defeat still bitter on his tongue. Hubris cost him the victory. He had the Merryweather boy cornered. It should have been easy, yet he was forced to yield the champion's title and purse. Daemon Targaryen drapes his arms over the side of the tub and thinks of who he would have named as the Queen of Love and Beauty had he won. Certainly not Rhea Royce —the old bronze bitch. He’s more apt to name one of the sheep before her. The thought fades when the doors creak open, his guards letting you pass into the prince’s chambers.

Steam fills the room, as does the scent of Myrish oils. Your skin prickles with heat for reasons that have nothing to do with the warmth of the air when your eyes settle on Daemon at the center of the room. You wondered where he’d gone so quickly after the feast. His eyes flash open as your footfalls echo on the stone floor until you stop beside the tub and kneel. “My prince,” you greet. He’s always liked how you say his title, sweet and taunting, nigh like a songbird. Glancing away from his face, your gaze follows the line of his arm and the planes of his chest. He’s all lean and lithe muscle, sculpted from years of training and battle —the most seasoned warrior in all of the Seven Kingdoms.

Daemon takes your hand, reclaiming your attention. His fingers curl around yours, then he shifts and leans toward you, head dipping down to press a soft kiss to your knuckles —a knightly and unexpected gesture. He lets your hand go and settles back in the tub, and the look of an arrogant prince reclaims his expression. “Take off your dress,” Daemon demands, flicking the surface of the water. Ever the dutiful lady, you rise and reach for the ties of your nightdress —shedding the pale linen, baring yourself to Prince Daemon Targaryen.

He's been soaking for nigh half-an-hour, and the water is still warm —fire cannot harm a dragon, he told you once whilst he held his hand above a candle, toying with the flame. You sink into the water and find the space he’s made next to him, head half-resting on his shoulder. Daemon drapes his arm around your shoulders, and wordlessly, you begin tracing mindless patterns on his chest. “You fought well today,” you tell him after a while, thinking of how handsome he looked in his dark steel suit emblazoned with the sigil of House Targaryen and decorated with rubies.

“I lost,” he reminds you, no lack of bitterness in his voice. He’d find a way to best the Merryweather boy, somehow.

You reach for his hand, and he lets you take it, curious brows raised. “Yet they all speak of how commendable your effort and skills are” —your fingers find the scars on his knuckles, the calloused pads of his fingertips. “Reputation is its own victory,” you tell him, placing a kiss to the center of his palm before he retracts his hand.

Daemon looks down at you. “Trying to mend my broken heart?”

You trace a curving line over his breast and up his neck, caressing his smooth and sharp jaw. “It’s I who am heartbroken, Daemon,” you say, smiling. He cuts his eyes at you, something dangerous lurking in his stare. “You told me you’d gift me a crown of roses upon your victory, and here I am, crownless.”

His lips quirk upward. “Dare speak to your prince with such impertinence?” His touch against your cheek is gentle, but you can still hear the slightest hint of a laugh in his voice. It’s the look in his cool eyes that speak of danger, though —he’s always been as wild and unpredictable as his dragon. You hold your breath as you look at him, expecting his kiss when he careens forward in the water, and when he leans in to meet your mouth, you’re struck by how desperate it feels in comparison to all the other times.

You’re impatient for more —always more— feeling his smile growing as he kisses you again, and you’re happy to give the Rogue Prince whatever he wishes. He always brings out your worse impulses. Sighing against his mouth, his tongue brushes against yours. He tastes like the spices from dinner, warm and enticing, and there’s still a hint of sweet wine lingering on his lips. Not even a maiden could refuse Daemon Targaryen after a single kiss like this —you hadn’t been able to either, but now all that is in the past. His fingers run along your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, and the little moan you make is music.

“Who else would keep you on your toes if not I?” You question, breathless. Daemon hums his agreement against your neck, lips trailing further down your pulse.

He pulls you close against him until you’re nearly in his lap —his cock twitches against your leg, but he brushes you off when you try to reach for him. He’d not summoned you tonight for a quick fuck. Daemon’s hands trace along your ribs to cup your breasts and feel your nipples stiffen in his palm, and his slight hum of approval makes your thighs squeeze together instinctively. Tonight, he’s more interested in having his hands on you instead —reparations for his failure to give you a rose crown.

“Open your legs,” he orders, a hot whisper at your ear, and you do so without a second thought. His hand slips between them, teasing briefly over your inner thighs before he’s touching you. Your voice is a breathy whimper as you feel him stroke slowly over the folds of your cunt and up to circle your clit. He doesn’t enter you yet, not until he can get his fill of watching you squirm and shudder from such simple attention. “What would Lord Mooton say if he could see precious his daughter like this?” Daemon relents to your soft pleas and slips two fingers into you. You shudder against him as he works in and out of you, breath catching. Your father is the last thing you want to think of with Daemon’s fingers buried in your cunt. “You like this?” He asks, well aware of how quickly he has you rutting into his hand for more stimulation.

“Yes, Daemon,” you insist, wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck to draw his lips down to yours. His thumb rolls across your clit, and your head falls back.

His kiss is less fierce this time, deep and slow until your lungs ache. You can sense his mood improving as he fucks you with his hand, relishing all the little noises you make for him. “You’re mine, little dove,” he breathes in your ear, and you can’t disagree when your cunt is already squeezing so tight around him. He brushes over your clit again, and you lean your head forward to his shoulder this time. “I won’t let you wed another.” You know he speaks true.

You whimper when he nibbles at your earlobe. Cautiously, you move to touch him and slowly trace down his stomach and past his navel, earning you the smallest laugh of amusement from him. Permission enough to touch him. You take his hard cock in your hand, and he lets out a pleased sigh as you begin to stroke him. Watching him is mesmerizing, his movements as graceful as ever even as he rocks his hips into your touch, though his own rhythm between your thighs stutters momentarily with distraction. “Yours,” you agree between long kisses. The Seven and the Old Gods be damned, you’d made your bed among the dragons and intended to lay in it.

Both of you stay like that for a while, enjoying the feel of your bodies as you work to get each other off. He’s better at it than you are —this Lord of Flea Bottom— and it doesn’t take long to have you panting hard with every brush of his fingers inside you. He can tell you’re close from the way you’re clenching around his fingers, his tongue muffling greedy moans.

“Let me see you,” he says, and you’re powerless to deny him when you lift your head from his shoulder. His thumb brushes over your clit harder, and the tension in your body snaps, your arms wrapping around his back and holding him to you in a desperate need to ground yourself as you come on his fingers. Daemon’s fingers keep moving inside you, teasing you through your orgasm until you’re a dazed mess for him. You give yourself several long moments to recover, breathing in the perfumed steam of the bath to slow your frantic heartbeat. He withdraws his hand from between your legs, and you can’t hide your disappointment at the newly empty feeling inside you.

Daemon rises from the water —his cock hard and straining against his belly— and offers his hand to help you out of the tub, leading you over to his bed. You lay back as he wishes, and he parts your thighs again, rubbing along the wetness he finds there and lifts his fingers to his lips to taste you. The noise Daemon makes is a promise of next time, but you’re given no time to dwell on the thought when he crawls over you and settles between your legs, the head of his cock just pressing into your cunt —unexpected, he usually takes you like a bitch in heat.

Your hips rut up towards his impatiently, and a moment later, he’s inside you. He hisses sharply but can’t stop the roll of his hips, pushing his cock deeper into you. It’s a newfound boldness you do not wish to relinquish. “Behave,” Daemon scolds, but there’s none of the usual annoyance or ire in his voice. His mouth eager on yours as he guides your arms up to pin your wrists above your head. “Stay still.” You do. Relaxing into the down blankets and pillows while he laves your neck and breasts with affection.

His thumb brushes over your nipple, and he hears how you stutter out his name, and it only spurs his need to have you like this. “What a good little dove you are.” Daemon smirks, and you have to look away, almost ashamed of how red your face turns at his praises, but you squirm beneath him as he strokes along a sensitive spot inside of you.

You feel his lips ghosting over your closed eyelids, and you peek one open to watch him. There’s the faintest flush across his face as he stares down at you with such raw hunger it feels like you’re going to burn up from the heat of your bodies —like Caraxes has bathed you both in flames. You want to touch him, to run your fingers through his silver hair and down the toned muscles of his shoulders and back. You flex them impatiently but keep your hands obediently where he’d placed them.

He pinches a nipple between his fingers, and you jolt, letting out a shaky moan that has his cock throbbing inside you, and it rips a harsh groan from his lips. You reach for him without thinking, dragging your nails across his scalp before he takes your wrists and presses them harder into the bed. You wriggle under him and only earn a quick nip to your earlobe. “Told you to behave,” he reminds you sternly, but his scolding only makes you clench around him tighter. Daemon curses and his next kiss is hot and demanding, and you part your lips for his tongue without a moment’s hesitation.

“Please, Daemon,” you whimper, and he knows what it is you want and gives a small nod of agreement. You reach for him again, going for his silver locks to bring him back down into another kiss. You hold tight to him when he tries to separate, keeping his chest flush against yours, whispering and whimpering his name like sacred prayers as he presses himself deeper into you —his pelvis grinding against your clit.

He thrusts into you harder while stroking your clit, and you unravel for him, tension running through you like dragonfire until you’re unable to do anything more than shudder beneath him. “Daemon,” you whimper, muscles twitching uselessly as he teases you through it. You’re too focused on your blood pounding in your ears to fully appreciate his reaction to you, his breaths ragged, and pupils blown wide with his own arousal at how you spasm around his aching cock. It’s a sight you’re not like to see again —you very well may never see your prince like this again.

You try to wrap yourself around his waist and pull him further into you —wanting to help him find his release— but instead, your legs are pressed firmly into the bed. “No,” he says through rough kisses, the last one nipping sharply at your bottom lip. He groans, feeling his cock twitch in anticipation of release.

Daemon pulls out of your cunt and leaves you empty. You almost complain, but he shushes you by dragging your hand down to his cock —slick and throbbing from all your efforts— and you follow his lead without instruction. His fingers are warm around yours as he guides you. He looks tragically beautiful when he comes, his head tilted back and mouth slightly open in a sharp gasp at the shiver running through his body. His cock twitches in your grasp, coating your hand and stomach in his sticky seed —he won’t risk a bastard child.

He moves to lay beside you, more relaxed than he’s been in a fortnight. You roll onto your side and look him over. This is far from your first time entertaining the prince in his bed —even being of noble blood, you know how this works. All the Seven Kingdoms know you are his mistress, even true love perhaps, but he is already sworn to another, and you must act as though the whispers and rumors are lies. It always hurts when you must leave, but you’d been foolish enough to cast your heart to the son of the dragon, and now you must suffer the price. “Do you require anything else, my prince?” You query.

Daemon turns his head to look at you, flushed and glowing. “Mmm” —he reaches for you, fingers trailing along your cheek and back into your hair— “stay.” The request surprises you, but you’ll indulge him and your own heart. A comfortable silence lingers until Daemon shifts, gathering you up in his arms to lay you down on the bed properly and offers a rag to clean yourself with as he does the same. When he returns to your side, Daemon rests his head on your breast and lets you hold him, humming sweetly as the songbirds, to an age-old lullaby. We'll sleep when the morning comes, and we'll rise by the sound of the birdsongs. And the morning will come too soon.

[ taglist: @mrsragnarlodbrok @erzsebetrosztoczy @certifiedlittleshit ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon taglist, just let me know with this Google Form!

#Daemon Targaryen #Daemon Targaryen x Reader #Daemon x Reader #Daemon Targaryen Fanfic #House of the Dragon #Matt Smith #my writing #setting for this fic is before HotD and the DotD begins #he came for me y'all and i cannot help it #between him and Criston Cole woo boy #if i wasnt sold on the casting i am now #soon to be everyones favorite bastards

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daenerysies · 2 months

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“He’s always angry, but we haven’t done anything.”

“…but I have a crooked finger, just like Mama!”

“We were born here. Mama is our mother.”

“I do not wish to be different.” “Nor do I.”

“So let us be good sons and please those who love us, so they may forget what we lack.”

I’m never going to recover from this. Once again scenes were removed that would add to both boys characterizations, and we all know why. The scenes would make the audience realize how Aemond’s ‘I’m being bullied for not having a dragon :( I’m the real victim!’ storyline so fallible and easy to shatter in universe because it’s a completely normal occurrence for Targaryen’s. Aemond is not the first child to not have a dragon by the age of ten, the original conqueror’s, Baelon, Alyssa, Rhaenys, Laena, Viserys, Daemon, Aegon II, Helaena, etc. all claimed young or fully grown dragons somewhere between the ages of 11-18.

The only character that had the potential to be marketed as his biggest bully is his brother. They’re never going to convince me (and many others) that it was Rhaenyra’s sons who would ever go after another child for their lack of a dragon, especially given that they were almost surely taught that hatching a cradle egg is but one way for a Targaryen to have a dragon. Aemond felt lesser than his nephews due to the way Alicent was parenting him. She led him to believe that his nephews were bastards, that due to their blood they were beneath him, and this is what led to his inferiority complex. It makes more sense than the crock of shit the show runners decided to include in the show.

Rhaenyra and her sons were subjected to actual abuse and bigotry over the timeskip due to their gender and their blood, respectively. It very much makes me sick how they’re being treated by not only the show runners, but a decent portion of the audience as well. Bastardphobia is not cool or edgy. Looking down on someone because their parents weren’t married is vile. It falls into the same category as believing in blood supremacy. It’s 2024. Do better.

Jace and Luke will forever be Mama’s boys and are never beating the best brothers/sons allegations.

</3

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soyboywenzie · 3 months

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“Rhaenyra’s sons are bastards and they can’t have the throne because of that and neither can she because she birthed them.”

have…have any of you actually watched this series? Have you not read the books to this series that yall swear you know everything about?

whether or not yall like to admit it, Rhaenyra did her duty by giving her house heirs, and those heirs ,till this day, are still known as Targaryens and Velaryons.

Laenor said they were his, Corlys said the same and so did Viserys. The main people who needed to say something did, and you all simply do not like it. They hatched dragon eggs in their cradles, something only their Mother (Rhaenyra) and Father (Laenor) were able to do.

Considering that specific thing, no one really cared because they did something Alicent’s children couldn’t do which made them shine with legitimacy.

“but…but… no one would side with them…”

did we forget that a whole rebellion that did not end until 10-20(?) years before Dany was born was started because a bastard wanted to be King? Did we forget that the Blackfyre rebellions central point of fighting was this bastard should be king instead of this other rumored bastard? And they both had people fighting valiantly for both sides, either bastard or alleged bastard?

Did we not watch Margery get tossed between Joffery and Tommen so she could be Queen even though there are rumors of their lineage??

Did we forget heavy members of the Greens were singing Jace’s praise as the only man worthy of the Throne during the Dance??

NO ONE GAVE A DAMN, AND THE PEOPLE WHO DID ONLY CARED BECAUSE THEY GAINED SOMETHING OUT OF THEIR DOWNFALL. WAKE UP!

edit: JACE, LUKE AND JOFF ALSO WERE THE ONLY CHILDREN TO HAVE BETROTHAL AND MANY OF THOSE! MFS WERE FIGHTING TO HAVE THEIR DAUGHTERS MARRY RHAENYRA’S SON WHILE NO ONE WANTED TO MARRY ALICENT’S!! THERE IS A REASON FOR THAT!!

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sunny12th · 1 year

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love the idea of young griff announcing himself as rhaegar's kid, jon snow also raising his hand like "same here according to my time traveling brother and my dad/uncle's bestie", and aurane waters just jumping on the Claiming Targ Heritage train immediately. and dany "i am so desperate for family i dont even care at this point" collecting them all and forcing everyone to attend family game night on dragonstone

#i also think it'd be funny if a bunch of random dudes all over westeros started calling themselves targaryen bastards #they dont even need white hair because look at jon #mine #asoiaf #daenerys targaryen #young griff #jon snow #aurane waters

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drakaripykiros130ac · 4 months

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I know that this is fantasy and whatever but I honestly find Rhaenyra’s predicament a little too convenient plot-wise. GRRM had in mind to give Rhaenyra’s first sons non-Valyrian traits which would put into question their legitimacy. Got it. Drama, speculations, Court gossip, Greens taking advantage of the confusion for their own ambitions etc.

But seriously now, Rhaenyra had these first three sons. Three. And out of all of these three sons, not one, I repeat, not one possessed a single physical Valyrian trait from their mother. Not one had purple eyes or silver hair. Not one had her aquiline nose. Nothing that would suggest Valyrian, physically speaking.

And then somehow, a non-Valyrian like Alicent gives birth to four, I repeat, four children, who all have silver hair and purple eyes.

Seriously, this is just a little too plot convenient. I would have believed it if it were only one or two children max, but three?! And out of these three not one single Valyrian trait? I don’t know what GRRM was thinking to be honest. It’s just too much.

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franzkafkagf · 17 days

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being aegon I and visenya like:

#literally you can pry bastard!aenys and shadow baby maegor out of my cold dead hands!!!!#asoiaf #aegon the conqueror #aegon i targaryen #visenya targaryen #visenya the conqueror #a song of ice and fire #fire and blood

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rhaenin-time · 2 months

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Being a native who's studied colonialism means that I know wayyyyy too much about blood quantum. I know how stupid it is, how it's tied to eugenics, but I also know how it "works."

Which means I can use my stupid-power to do this:

Well this took a turn.

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huramuna · 4 months

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the calico bastard - masterlist.

aemond targaryen x strong bastard oc

summary: After his takeover of Harrenhal, Aemond encounters a dreamy-eyed, wistful bastard of House Strong, who piques his interest and changes the course of Westerosi history.

content: smut (eventually), angst, canon typical violence, canon typical misogyny, depictions & descriptions of death, touch-starved aemond, touch-averse oc, two idiots in love, girlfail aemond tbh

chapter 1chapter 2chapter 3chapter 4 chapter 5, 6, 7...

art for this series under the cut!

alysanne - art by me.

alysanne as a lil baby - edit by me.

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #the calico bastard #masterlist

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ariavar · 6 months

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I need Tyrion to become a dragonrider in TWOW through horse girl hijinks just so I can repost this a thousand times

#“Tyrion will tame a dragon...” YESS #“...because he is Aerys' bastard” NOOOO #tyrion lannister #nettles #asoiaf #why do you think F&B dedicates like three paragraphs describing how cunning won over blood when it came to claiming Sheepstealer #if Nettles is supposed to be just another dragonseed #and why people don't think that is foreshadowing for another cunning character that will do the same in the main series #the point is to refute Targaryen ideals about being the only ones in the world capable to do it

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montyluvsjasper · 21 days

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Jonsa fans write 1000+ post of all the foreshadowing of Jonsa.

Jon and Sansa are structured in the story as the romantic leads respectively. Even Sansa antis have admitted the extreme parallels between Jon and “Alayne”. Jon Snow literally has dreams about burning people and thinks it's the most vile thing possible. Sansa wished/prayed for a strong knight to kill Janos Slynt, and Jon’s the one to do it. Jon dies trying to save who he thinks is Arya Stark.

No I don't care about your wolf howl, your blue rose or your Targaryen restoration.

#jonsa #jon snow #sansa stark #anti jonarys #anti house targaryen #jon snow is now never picking the family that has strong blood supremacy issues to the point of using his mother uncle and grandfather like #sub human pawns #youre not getting tickets to that show #rhaegar bred lyanna to death just like he tried to do is first wife #Dany BURNS people Jon was taught the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword #jon would rather be a stark bastard than a Targaryen prince in 100% of cases I assure you

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sihtriggyr · 2 days

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The more I think about it the more insane I find the Driftmark confrontation. Rhaenyra was at eye level and tending to Luke with her back turned toward Alicent (her back!! She was not facing Alicent! She had no idea Alicent was coming at them with a dagger until the last moment when Alicent had already crossed the room!!) when Alicent went after Luke with the catspaw dagger AND during that entire confrontation NOT ONCE does Alicent loosen her grip on the blade but instead continues to push against Rhaneyra with it in her hand. At one point the blades point is quite literally inches from Rhaneyra’s face and then she proceeds to slice Rhaenyra’s wrist open!! and zero punishment. Just nothing. Insane.

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rozsesandart · 13 days

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Serenei of Lys, ninth mistress of King Aegon IV Targaryen and mother to Shiera Seastar 🌊

Art by @rozsesandart

Art masterlist- socials - commissions info - kofi

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soyboywenzie · 2 months

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i think we as a fandom need to talk about the fact that the targtower children’s resentment and disdain for rhaenyra is not just the work of viserys lack of parenting but due to everyone else too.

it’s from otto doing everything in his power to stop rhaenyra from getting the throne so his blood can get it, not because he thinks aegon is or would be a good king, not because he thinks his grandson deserves it, but because his blood would take the throne, not rhaenyra’s, not daemon’s. HIS.

it’s from alicent’s every conversation on screen with aegon revolving around rhaenyra. how, in ep.6, his mother stops his session to tell him he needs to be better to his brother in public so we can be a united family against her, how if rhaenyra takes the throne, she’ll have no choice but to kill them to keep her throne, how in ep.8, alicent is mad at his continuous behaviors but only this mad because rhaenyra is about to be in town.

the talk before his coronation is explicitly about how much his father wanted rhaenyra on the throne, how he had twenty years to change it and never did. it’s about alicent telling him not to not be swayed by judgements to kill rhaenyra, how above all the terrible she’s done, she still his sister. yet no one has ever acted like she is.

it’s from aemond’s eye being taken out and it ending with his mother yelling at rhaenyra about duty and sacrifices, how she can do all and never get in trouble, how she does as she pleases and is happy, yet she, the queen, is dutiful and isn’t. aemond’s eye is used to get back at rhaenyra, his mother is mad that his eye is gone but it’s more because RHAENYRA’S sons took it then it being taken at all. how he has to soothe his mother even if he’s the one bleeding.

it’s from criston cole bullying and tormenting rhaenyra’s sons because they are rhaenyra’s sons. It’s about them being lesser because they came from her indecency, them being worse because they came from her. her sons being lower than them because of them being a direct connection to rhaenyra and him feeling mad about not being the one she choose.

the targtower children entire world revolved around rhaenyra. it wasn’t just viserys who preferred her, everyone did! rhaenyra’s stepmother would rather fight her than love them! their mother’s sworn sword would rather mess with her children as an act of vengeance than genuinely be interested in them, their grandfather’s every political move was to stop her husband from being near power. love or hate, those children never had a chance to see rhaenyra on their own before or after Driftmark.

their father, her father, loved her more. their mother, her stepmother, hated her more than she cared for them. their grandfather, who has no connection to her, would rather deal with politics through them against her than for them. their mother’s sworn sword, who was rhaenyra’s sworn sword first, hates her more than he likes them.

these kids, again, never stood a damn chance!!

#house of the dragon #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #my original work #alicent hightower #otto hightower #criston cole #viserys i targaryen #this family did more damage to rhaenyra’s name more than she did!#‘her bastard…’ that no one cared about but them #‘her husband…’ that they hated more than anyone else in the realm #team black #asoiaf #it started with viserys but it didn’t end with him #they hate her because everyone around them is obsessed with her #with her children. with her husband. with her honor #with her vagina. with her associates. with her maidenhood.#everyone is obsessed with her yet can’t even bat an eye for them #the dance isn’t just viserys fucking up #it’s everyone being fuckin obsessed with her that those obsession negatively impacted the next generation #anti team green #anti alicent hightower #anti otto hightower #anti criston cole

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