#Rhaenyra and she's a hot mess)

[mswyrr]

When Rhaenys was still alive, Steve Toussaint played Corlys as such a vibrant older man. Someone still striving and full of the joy of living, even in dark moments. Their interplay, him and Eve Best as Rhaenys, was a delight. For all their flaws as characters, and the wrong he did her and his sons Alyn and Addam, they had one of the rare true love marriages in Westeros.

They even endured the loss of their children, something that often breaks marriages, and still loved each other so much.

But now Toussaint, himself still a clearly very energetic and commanding presence irl at age 59, is playing Corlys as hollowed out. The life inside him all left with Rhaenys. He looks weary down to his very bones. He made his grand ship, once named for his own glory, hers. And in many ways, he himself is living just to be hers. To turn all he built for her into a funeral pyre for the cause she felt worth dying for.

As their granddaughter put it:

I adore love stories, including tragic ones. And what Toussaint is doing now--and the chemistry he and Best played when Rhaenys was alive-- is a master class in acting and fits perfectly with the wide array we see of the fallout of war and all the ways it breaks people. He and Rhaenys should have gotten to continue growing old together and died in peace together, surrounded by all the glory and comfort he had won for her. Instead he will spend it all, and all the strength he has left, in her name.

[dreammfyre]

wedding celebration ⋆ jacaerys velaryon

SUMMARY. You are the only Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter. Jacaerys is your brother, but is engaged to Baela Targaryen and this is the celebration of their wedding announcement.

WARNINGS. +18. Targaryen incest, rude Jacaerys, AU (no Dance of the Dragons, Rhaenyra is the Queen of Seven Kingdoms.)

The engagement celebration was overwhelming and exhausting for you. The queen did not skimp on the grandeur of the event, a dinner full of variety and fresh delicacies, fruits, desserts, large platters of roasted meats that they tore to shreds leaving only the bones. All to celebrate in grand style the marriage of her first son with the daughter of Daemon Targaryen.

For you it was being a bore, sitting next to your brother Lucerys Velaryon who was talking with Rhaena Targaryen. Everyone was enjoying the dragon riders, while you just wanted to escape from the hall where the music, the shouting and the applause made it impossible to have a conversation. Sitting down you played with the food left on your plate, moving your fork side to side without purpose in that place, no one spoke to you, and when they did it was to talk about the couple of the moment. You were trying to get your mother's attention sitting next to Daemon, but she was too busy attending to everyone, always smiling and raising her glass to Jacaerys and Baela to look at you. On your other side, your little brother, Joffrey, was trying to convince you to dance a piece, but you refused for shame of falling down in the attempt.

You watched your brother Jacaerys laugh whispering in his betrothed's ear. But when he looked at you you looked away immediately. You felt your face hot with embarrassment at being discovered, but deep down you didn't mind being unwelcome.

A knight of House Lannister approached the table you shared with your family to ask if you wished to dance with him. Distressed to answer, you looked at your mother pleading for help, but Rhaenyra forced you to stand up for the first time since the event began and do some socializing, something you find very difficult to do.

It was awkward throughout, he just showed you off like a trophy and never looked you in the eye you felt like the song went on for hours. You went round and round, when he touched you a little rejection won you over and you ended up taking a step back. Your smell of alcohol gave you away as did your clumsy and uncoordinated movements. A few meters away, Prince Jacaerys noticed the situation, attentive if his sister needed help. He didn't like to see you with other men, they didn't know how to treat you and that was further proof, he noticed you uncomfortable looking at the exit constantly touching your waist too long. He took the opportunity to get close to your face, he didn't listen to what you were saying but from your facial expression he didn't need to know.

"Is something wrong?" asked Baela noticing that her fiancé was too distracted. Jacaerys immediately denied without arousing suspicion, but without ceasing to be attentive to the situation assuming that he was just behaving like an older brother protecting his sister.

While you continued to dance the extensive choreography you exchanged glances with your brother. None of them looked down, Jacaerys' tense jaw reflected his annoyance.

"You look especially beautiful tonight, my princess," said the blond-haired gentleman, gaining your attention. "The red brings out your look."

Without realizing it, you smiled. It was the first time anyone had complimented your dress that you designed, until the wine glass your escort was holding spilled on you when another gentleman accidentally pushed it. You let out a small scream as you felt the liquid on your skin, the fabric absorbed all the alcohol ruining the golden color of the embroidery.

"Gods." You whispered annoyed looking at the mess you brought on yourself. You looked at the queen who stood attentive to you, Jacaerys stopped suddenly leaving Baela dancing alone by her side who in the happiness of her engagement was not attentive to her guests. "My dress…"

"My princess, I am sorry. I didn't mean to." Said the knight wiping a cloth across your torso, drying a few drops of wine.

"Don't touch me!" You exclaimed when his fingers brushed your chest, an unpleasant and invasive sensation. People turned at your shout and at all that attention you ran, finally escaping the room amidst malicious whispers that were sure to become controversial by tomorrow.

Locked yourself in your room staring at the reflection of the stain I had left on you, cursing yourself for agreeing to leave your safe place in the chair next to your mother and now your favorite dress was ruined. Your fingertips had also turned crimson and you reeked of alcohol.

Not even a minute passed when there was a loud knock on your door, startling you by the unexpected. You approached taking a deep breath so as not to sound distressed or upset.

"I'm fine, mother. I'd rather stay and rest." You said, complimenting yourself for sounding so convincing.

"Let me through." You opened your eyes when Jacaerys' voice was heard on the other side. You immediately opened the door and your brother entered your quarters, which he knew by heart, and hurriedly closed the door before a guard discovered them. You didn't reach to say anything when he rushed to ask. "Did he do something to you?"

"What are you doing here, idiot? You're the fucking groom."

"Did he touch you?" he kept asking, looking at you intently, scaring you. "Damn it. Answer me, did he dare offend you?"

"Balea must be worried about you, must go back." You raised your voice, annoyed by your brother's recklessness. "Her Majesty must be asking about you and I don't think Daemon would be amused if you left his daughter alone in the middle of the celebration."

"Let them ask whatever they want, you know I care little for them and they'll have a hard time finding me."

"Don't tell me lies. You're the heir, all eyes are on you now, it's only natural that you care about your reputation." You said turning your back on him, you weren't angry, you were just being realistic. You didn't want him to look at you. "You need to go back, Jace, your fiancée is probably looking for you around the castle and she's not going to want to find you here."

"You think I want this for myself?" his question sent chills down your spine, Jacaerys' tone sounded hurt. "You must understand what it means to do the duty of our position."

Damn. You thought. That conversation again.

"Do you really want to talk about this right now?"

You heard his footsteps, the right thing to do was for him to leave you alone, but his hands came to rest on your shoulders. An intense sensation ran up your neck as his breath hit your cold skin. His pointed nose touched your back awkwardly moving unsure of his decisions, hands shifted to your waist clinging tightly without letting go. You couldn't control yourself, Jacaerys was yours, you hated to see him with another lady.

"Jace." You whispered with your eyes closed. You wanted to say with all your might that it wasn't right, but the warmth of his breath and his fingers touching yours was so much better.

"Just shut up, can you?" He ordered plaintiff. "And don't call me a liar, that makes me mad, you know it."

Listening to him angry you loved it, he was always so correct but when they were alone you couldn't control it.

You could fall into his arms easily, he had the demanding tone you need to hear. You turned around looking for his mouth desperate to kiss him, to reaffirm that he has been yours forever. His wet lips with yours knew each other perfectly, you were not new to this nor had you spoken of leaving him. Jacaerys took your neck with his hand squeezing gently, but enough to know he didn't want you to move. His tongue entered your mouth invading your space, desperate for your touch he cupped your cheek. You ran your hand through his long hair, tangling your fingers in his curls pulling them pulling his body closer to yours.

"Do you want to do it now?" he growled between your lips without letting go of your waist. You nodded without hesitation forgetting the fear of being discovered, you were so needy and only he could help you. "Gods, you're such a good sister."

Between wet kisses and ragged breaths they reached your bed which was perfectly tidy. His suit with the symbol of House Targaryen stood out on his chest, he sat on the edge waiting for you to sit on it, when you did he kissed your bare neck leaving marks that he cared little if they showed later, he wanted to mark you, that no one would look at you, but the idea that you were desired by the knights he always liked because he could have you while the others only desired you.

"That idiot won't bother you again." He muttered with difficulty, but convinced to keep his word for you. "Vermax will turn it to ashes."

You were so wet that any touch was going to make you scream in orgasm. Jacaerys was your first man and you didn't want anyone to be your second. The first time Jacaerys was gentle and soft with you, but the more they repeated it, hidden from the eyes and ears of others, you experienced more things that pleased both. Your favorite place was the bed, you could do many things there and get into various positions that made you feel more of him.

"We don't have much time, darling." Said the boy tucking a strand of your long hair behind your ear. "We can save that for another day."

In a hurry and a little clumsy, you pulled up the long skirt of your dress just enough to be exposed above it, none of you were naked, you could imagine that the celebration had not stopped in the absence of the prince nor yours. Jacaerys also settled down below you without taking his eyes off you at any time, thinking that he did not want any maiden, however pure and elegant. That wasn't the first time time time had worked against them, but the adrenaline rush was unique, like riding dragons. The sex felt much better though.

"Come here." He commanded with dilated pupils, tired and anxious from so much waiting to feel you. His hot member brushed against your wet entrance unleashing an intense sensation that made you moan but without opening your mouth. Jacaerys' hands slipped under your dress while you didn't let go of his shoulders so you wouldn't lose your balance, your knees bent on the mattress giving you comfort and the prince sitting under you, watching your every expression.

"You don't know how much I was looking forward to having you again." You said panting, your skin beginning to flush from the heat emanating from your bodies. "Promise you won't leave me." You said taking her face in your hands, desperate for the rubbing between your legs. "Get fucking married, but you'll keep coming back to me."

When he entered you let out a sweet moan that you tried to hide by covering your mouth. Jacaerys threw his head back taking a moment to accommodate you, you were so wet he slid in easily reaching your bottom in a matter of seconds. You squeezed his shoulder reflexively and he smiled when he heard you moan.

"Look at me." He commanded taking in your hot face, you found it hard to concentrate feeling him so deep inside you, but you looked into his eyes. "I will always come back to you." Replied.

And that was what you needed to hear.

You moved up and down slowly, Jacaerys moans giving you more pleasure from the movements and the feeling between your legs. The prince closed his eyes tensing his jaw holding his cum so fast, you kissed him biting his thick lips at the same time moaning louder.

You were clothed but it felt so good to feel his member rubbing against your walls that you just wanted to increase the speed. Jace enjoyed feeling you, with your hands he pulled down the front of your stained dress to let your breasts out. He took one between his big hands to squeeze it mercilessly, making you moan, you were very sensitive to any touch and your brother knows how to take you to the max.

"Jace." You gasped without stopping.

"Go on." He challenged you.

You listened to him, obviously. You were convinced that if at that moment Baela Targaryen entered you would not mind if she found you riding her future husband.

You felt him hard and hot, you watched him writhe with pleasure under your body, you kept moving until you couldn't hold back the urge to speak.

"Do you know what that man told me?" You asked pausing for a second, Jacaerys eyes opened still inside you, you caressed his open, swollen lips. "If I married him I was never going to be short of a good fuck."

The prince's expression changed completely, you knew what you had just done and you didn't regret it. He grabbed you by the waist and turned you over on the bed leaving you exposed to his desire and discomfort. He quickly pulled your dress up again entering you, this time without softness or gentleness that characterized him, you screamed forgetting that you should keep quiet to guard his secret, but he grabbed you so tightly and kept moving behind you.

"Do you like it like this?" he asked agitated, moving back and forth constantly, you were clinging to the sheets. You nodded unable to modulate a statement. "No one can touch you." He kept up the accelerated pace. You stuck your cheek to the mattress in pain but the sensation in your legs was growing, the friction was getting more and more delicious and rough, it was something new that you liked. Your brother's hands were marked on your skin, there was less and less time left to feel the orgasm. You wanted him to know what he was going to miss out on by marrying another woman.

"Jaca-Jacaerys." You tried to speak.

"A little more." He begged.

You couldn't stand the pressure growing under her belly any longer, your legs faltered and your chest couldn't expand any more. You stood there for a few seconds recomposing yourself, trying to get the air back into your hot agitated lungs. You turned to look at him, he looked exhausted, his skin red and curls in disarray. You had never felt his anger or jealousy over you.

You sat on the edge of your bed while he quietly adjusted his pants. Jacaerys looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting her hair, her suit, trying to conceal it. You didn't know whether to speak or remain silent.

"I'll go back to the celebration." He said without looking at you.

"It's okay." You whispered tidying the long skirt of the frayed dress. "I think so do I."

The prince turned with an expression of unpleasant surprise. "Are you serious?"

"Sure. I'm going to change this fucking dress first." You affirmed with an innocent smile. Your hair messy, your lips swollen and wet were still warm. "Congratulations for your wedding; brother." You scoffed.

Jacaerys grabbed your jaw hard stealing a long kiss that you didn't manage to escape. He looked at you disapprovingly. "You’re wicked."

[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: fem!reader, cisgender female reader (I'm sorry mascs and nbs, I'll make something for you later) incest/targcest implied for later, platonic and romantic yanderes, yandere EVERYONE x reader, here's a list of every character that will be featured (not all of them are romantic):Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhea Royce, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Haelena Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Laena Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon

Notes: I go by a very strange mix of the series and the books, I haven't seen the series in a while so the timeline will most likely be a mess. I'd like this to be a series but I've been incredibly busy. Extra: at first I thought about making reader Mysaria's daughter, but this is a self insert, so it's best that you look however you like, leaving the mother anonymous. The only physical reference I'll make will be reader's silver hair

>After Rhaenyra was declared the heir of the iron throne, Daemon, insulted, flew away with his mistress, the white worm, who he would conceive a child with, even asking for a dragon egg for the prince or princess to come

>However, Viserys demanded him to go back to his home and wife, he sent Mysaria off to lys, where the stress of a storm in the trip back made her lose the baby

>Daemon never fully forgave his brother, and this left him less than eager to have another child anytime soon

>So imagine his surprise, when 7 years later, there's a rumour spreading in flea bottom like wildfire, about a girl carrying Daemon's bastard

>Many women had claimed to carry a royal child before, thinking this could give them any sort of prize, so Daemon didn't think much of it at first, but when he heard her name, he recognized her as one of his previous "favorites" who disappeared without a trace months ago

>She was said to have taken residence in Essos, and Daemon went on dragonback to find her. She was from the free cities, five years older than Daemon, and a heart as cold as a northern winter, or so they said. She was not expecting Daemon, running away to have the child in peace

>"They said I was too far along when I found out, moon tea would've only harmed me. Besides, it was lucrative in its own way" said the woman. Daemon did little to suppress the disgust on his face when thinking about her being defiled by other men while carrying his dragonseed babe

>She wanted no part in the baby's life, and Daemon, in his particular fashion, informed her he'd take the youngling as soon as it's out of her, may even pay her a few coins to make sure she won't do much as think about keeping it

>A few months passed, and he returned to king's landing with a babe in arms. Demanding an egg in honor of the birth of princess Y/N Targaryen

>This egg would later hatch into the dragon Dagahrion, the princess' bound dragon

>The court was a hot mess, according to Otto, he wouldn't be surprised if the young creature lost its left ear because of all the gossip and ill-speaking of her, just like her father. This was a scandal, considering he was still married to Rhea Royce, who he gravely dishonored time and time again, Daemon was always shameless, but this was crossing a limit, even for him, to call his bastard a princess while refusing to lay with his own rightful wife, disgraceful

>Daemon tried to use you as yet another attempt to get his brother to annul his marriage to "the bronze bitch", but even when he failed, he did everything in his power to legitimize his daughter

>Despite everyone on the council telling Viserys how foolish it'd be to do it, making enemies out of the Royce house, further insulting Rhea, and putting a whoreborn on the line of succession (no matter how far from the throne), all it took was a little yawn and the bright twinkle of your eyes to make him melt, he is fully committed to his role of uncle, even as a doting grandfather, considering his father passed long before her birth

>Viserys sent Daemon back to the Vale, saying he should do his best to give lady Rhea an heir, to make up for the slip and avoid causing the Targaryen house any more trouble. Viserys, for totally not selfish reasons wanted to keep the princess in KL, saying Rhea should not be made to raise his bastard

>Daemon said he'd rather be exiled again than to leave his daughter in Hightower hands to go try to fuck his wife. Viserys was greatly offended by the implication that the Hightowers truly ruled and schemed while he reigned

>To his outmost displeasure, he finally had to let his niece go to the Vale with her father

>Rhea loved you as soon as she set eyes on you, completely separating you from your father's actions, and seeing you as a pure angel in this horrible situation

>But it was so difficult with Daemon around, she just wanted to whisk you away and love you, she'd pray to the mother to be able to breastfeed you, crying when she heard you wail in frustration of your hunger, since it took several wet nurses to get you to drink milk

>But Daemon was always around to remind her you were not hers, that he considered her lowly, not worthy of you. He'd correct you when you learning to speak, and dared to refer to her as "mama"

>It was said the ground of the vale would shake upon them yelling when fighting over you

>But this joy to Rhea was short lived, as Daemon sent you to KL when he had to fight in the war of the stepstones, saying the "nest of vipers" was more deserving of you than she was. When you were three, your step mother had an accident while hawking, many said Daemon orderded for her to be poisoned when she was bed bound, others said the distress of your parting made her lose skill

>It was Viserys greatest pleasure when you were left at his care, his adorable baby niece was now an infant, and somehow you were even more charming, being able to speak, sing and walk

>To no one's surprise, Viserys' reaction was not generalized, with many not being keen on having a bastard running around the castle playing with the princes, by that point, Aegon was 8, Haelena was 7, Aemond was 5, and Daeron was 1, and almost all of them could see people treated you differently

>Rhaenyra was welcoming, baby Lucerys had just been born, and she was delighted to have a girl to spoil, it only helped that Jacaerys loved you as well, and would often fight his uncles for the chance to be with you

>Alicent in particular was not pleased with your presence, thinking you were an uncomfortable conversation to have with her children, especially resentful of the fact her youngest son would be attached at the hip with you

>To Otto, you were an annoyance, a living proof of Daemon's pure disregard for the norms, however, he could rest at night knowing you were ninth in the line of succession, and a girl, who would someday marry a son of a minor house and be too busy bearing children to present a claim to the iron throne

>Even though the Hightowers were tougher than the king, they did eventually succumb to your spell, and became just as enamoured with you as everyone else, in their minds, you were almost a product of spontaneous generation, completely ignoring your shameful father and prostitute mother

>Your arrival also caused the birth of Lucerys (who was again, born with a striking resemblance of Harwin Strong, just like his older brother) to be less gossiped about, after all, your case was much more interesting

>Some people in court starting referring to you as "The princess of flea bottom", this title costed quite a few tongues around the castle, ordered by Viserys, happily approved by Otto

>The Hightower hand was careful not to show too much affection to you, as it was improper and he knew how zealous was Viserys when it came to you

>Aegon was "already too old to be playing" in his words, and kept his distance from you, you reminded him to much of his sticky handed little brothers

>But as if you knew, you chased him around and praised him for his knightly demeanor (in your eyes) and how he's just like the heroes in Viserys' stories. It was not a long time before Aegon now appointed himself as your guard, watching like a hawk over his brothers and nephews when he thought they were being too rough on you

>Haelena loves you from the start, sees you as a little doll, she loves showing you her bugs, you're the only one who listens to her attentively

>Jacaerys and Daeron are only a year old, but always search for you, you think they're cute, something that spikes jealousy on Aemond, he wants you to think of him as someone worthy of admiration, like you see his older brother, he'd even accept being cute in your eyes, but he has none of those traits to appeal to you. You love him and love playing with him nonetheless, but he thinks he needs something else to win your favor

>The Velaryons dote on you too, with Laenor married to Rhaenyra and once your father marries Laena that same year, they are maybe too eager to become part of your family, and regard you as theirs

>Especially Laena, who Daemon allows (unlike with Rhea) to pamper and care for you, but still corrects you when it comes to remembering your origins, Laena may love you, but she's not your mother

>Maybe Daemon does this as a way to imagine you're only his, he doesn't care for the woman who abandoned such a precious treasure, she has been wiped away from your life and memory, you're only familiar with your father, you only belong to him

>You have his silver hair, you have his name, no matter who your mother was, you are his true valyrian heir, his dragonseed

>Unfortunately, Daemon is not the only one whose eyes light up when thinking of owning you

[afro-hispwriter]

A Betrayal No More(final)

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Velaryon!reader

Summary- Aemond has been thrown into the dungeons just hours after your death, but the blacks need Aemond and Aemond needs you. 

Warnings- angst ending with fluff, mentions of torture, murder, battle of the gullet comes wayy faster than it actually does lol, dragon death

Part 3 of the Betrayal mini-series 1 2

Wc-3.3k+

-

Aemond was thrown into the dungeons along with Criston. They quickly found out that wasn't a wise idea since it ended up with Aemond almost choking the man out. 

He's not sure how long he'd been down there but he's been questioned a lot. But Criston on the other hand has been tortured, daily. He heard his screams of pain, and it made Aemond cringe. That man was the closest thing to a father he ever had but he was also the same man who killed the love of his life in front of him, however many days it's been since. 

Aemond thought they were going to starve him out but those thoughts were soon erased when Daemon Targaryen himself. His uncle, and father of his late love, came down and opened his cell door. Daemon glared harshly at his nephew, tightening his jaw and fist.

"Come boy." He demands but Aemond doesn't move, just sits there and looks at him wearily. "A hot bath and food has been prepared for you." Aemond cocks his head to the side before standing up.

"Preparing me for my execution?" 

"Every day I have the urge to come down here and cut your head off and send it to your family. But the queen says if it's true you are here to bend the knee, we need you." Daemon steps out of the way but Aemond still hesitates. "We don't have all day." 

"Hmm, lead the way." Aemond has only been to Dragon Stone maybe less than a handful of times. Daemon started his descent to the stairs with Aemond in tow. 

"Letting your daughter's killer out Daemon?" Gasps out Cristion making both men stop. 

"I guess you have gone mad Criston, you will never know freedom again." Daemon spits out and continued his way up the stairs. 

Aemond kept space between him and his uncle. There was still a chance this was all a trick and he was being led to his execution. But no. Daemon opened the door and the hot steam hit them both in the face. 

"Enjoy," Daemon says and Aemond walks through and Daemon shuts the door. A pretty servant girl appeared.

"Would you like assistance with bathing my prince?" She asks and Aemond shakes his head no. She nods and gives a bow before leaving. Once Aemond knew he was alone he started discarding the clothes he had on. He still had dried blood on his hands. Her blood. It made him sick to his stomach. 

Aemond settled into the water and sighed deeply. The warmth was very welcoming after being in a cold cell for days.

He wasn't sure how long he was in there but his fingers started to prune and the water started going cold. He scrubbed his skin quickly, dirt and mud from the cells had already turned the water dark and the blood made it worse.

His hair was a lost cause. He could wash out the gunk but it would be a frizzy mess. He stepped out of the bath cautiously and grabbed the towel. He dried himself off and the cold air made him shiver. His wet hair not helping so he tied it up in a low bun. 

The clothes given were a simple white tunic and a pair of pants, his boots from before would have to do. 

Aemond stepped out of the room refreshed. A guard in the hall came up to him.

"The Queen has asked for your presence." He says and Aemond gives a nod. They both walk to the map room where the other half of his family is. 

Baela noticed him first, she had a hard glare on her face. Rhaenys saw him but kept her face neutral, demoted of any emotion. Rhaena was absent. Luke and Rhaenyra stood together, while Jace stood off to the side fists clenched and fresh tear streaks on his face. 

Daemon's hand was tightly gripped on his sword. He also seemed to have taken a bath but his red fists were clear as day.

"We have a meal for you, brother," Rhaenyra says and Aemond says the plate of hot food with a cup of wine. He slowly walked down the steps, one by one until he was behind the chair. The smell enticed him so much, he pushed the chair back and sat in it. Digging into the food greedily. 

They watched him eat, everyone in that room had mixed emotions about him. Some found him guilty, some blamed him, others knew they needed him. 

"Vermithor was last confirmed to be seen crossing the Stepstones and there are reports they saw him carrying something." Aemond stopped eating at the mention of the dragon. 

"Any guesses as to where he is going?" 

"Valyria," Luke says and Aemond sees others in the room sigh or shake their heads. "Maybe Vermithor knows something we don't."

"He's never been to Valyria, none of our dragons have Luke," Jace says.

"But he's still a dragon, that's where his and our ancestors originated." 

"That doesn't explain why he would take Y/n there." Aemond snaps at the boy and Rhaenyra grabs Luke’s hand. "After this is done, I'm going to look for them." 

"What makes you think you're leaving?" Daemon asks and he takes a step closer Aemomd drops his spoon and sits back. 

"You have me and Vhagar now, you can have throne by lunch." Aemond took a bite of his food again.

"We kept you in the dungeons too long. Your grandfather has gotten the support of the Triacrhy and they attacked the Velaryon fleet at the Gullet. 

"You need me to sort it out?" Aemond asks and he downs the wine.

"You and Jace will fly out, using force only if necessary." Rhaenyra and Aemond cracked his knuckles and pushed the chair back.

"Let's go now." He started walking away, not knowing where he would go. But he didn't want to be there.

"Aemond stop," Rhaenyra says and he stops. "You must rest, Daemon is going to take Harrenhall." 

"I will rest when this is over." 

-

Your eyes shot open and the air rushed back into your lungs giving you a horrible spike of pain. You were rushed with cold then you were burning.

"You're okay Lady Y/n." The voice was loud but it was also so sweet and low. You looked around but you could only see the orange glow of fire and you were clearly in a rock structure. A soft pair of hands wrapped themselves around your back and they slowly helped you sit up. The cloth covering your breasts fell in your lap but you made no effort to grab it again. 

You turned your head slowly to meet with a woman. Her hazel eyes pierced through yours. Her dark hair was shining in the light. 

Your heart started racing and you felt across your body when you felt the scars. One look down and the flashes of the blade going in and out of your abdomen. You remembered the flooding of blood in your mouth and... Aemond.

"Ae-." Your voice barely came out, a tiny squeak at best.

"Rest your voice, my lady, your prince is safe." The woman says and walks away and bends down to grab something. She stands back up and she has clothes in her arms. "Your family needs you." She held her hand out to you and you shakily grab it. She helps you plant your feet on the cold floor and your legs shake, the last piece of cloth falling leaving you naked. "Hold onto the table." 

You slowly turned around and held onto the stone slab. Her hands touched your back and she rubbed her finger along the scars.

"They will heal nicely."

"H-How am I alive?" You ask lowly, she smiles behind you.

"Thank your dragon and the Lord of Light, my lady." 

-

You've heard of the Lord of Light, but you didn't believe in him. You didn't even believe in the Seven. But as you walked through the temple with Seraphine, the priestess who brought you back, this lord of light seemed to be even more real. 

Seraphine gave you a pair of pants and a black long tunic. Your hair burnt at the edges, ultimately damaging some of your hair. 

"Where is Vermithor?" You were still trying to find your voice.

"He has taken the liberty and made a home in a field feeding on cows." There were two guards standing post in front of the door. One nod from Seraphine and they opened the doors. The bright lights outside made you stumble. A servant of the temple appeared and he held a pouch of food and a canteen of water. “May I ask you something?” 

You nodded.

“What did you see when you passed?” She asks, almost desperately but keeping calm. 

“Nothing. I saw nothing.” You say and she lets out a quick sigh.

"May the Lord of Light guide you" Seraphine says. You took the pouch from the servant and nodded at them.

"Thank you." You say to both Seraphine and the servant, and maybe to R'hollor himself. 

-

Volantis, that is where you ended up. That is where Vermithor brought you, which confused you. Vermithor has no history of ever being near here, so how did he know to come here?

But the dragon wasn't a hard miss. He lay comfortably in the field. The people of Volantis had started huddling up and pointing at the beast. Some had never seen a dragon or it's been too long. You pushed past them and with one look at your hair and your approach to the dragon, they all backed off and whispered.

"Who is she?"

"Lady Y/n Targaryen? That is her dragon up there."

"But she's supposed to be dead, killed by her lover."

"That has to be Daemon Targaryens eldest."

Vermithor raised his head when he noticed you and raised it to his full height. He then lowered his neck so he could greet you. You reached up and the second you touched his warm, scaly skin you smiled. Smiled hard, you weren't sure how long you had been dead but it felt great.

"I am in debt to you." Vermithor gave a small growl of acknowledgment, the large dragon then showed you his neck so you had access to the ropes of his saddles. "Take me home."

-

Aemond stood in her bedroom. Memories of the two flooded him. The amount of times he has snuck in here and the times he almost got caught. Her bed was still made since the last time she was there.

It was hard to believe barley a week ago she was begging him to join her. Barley a week since he watched the life leave her eyes the next day.

"Daemon's taken Harrenhall." Jace's voice came from behind him. Aemond turned around to see his nephew in his riding gear and armor. Aemond walks towards him, hair swaying behind him to bump into the boy in front of him. Jace's fists clenched then he relaxed. "I know what your intentions are." Aemond stopped walking. "She wouldn't want you to do that, uncle."

"That is not of your concern, I will look for her regardless of where I am." 

-

Vhagar is the largest dragon alive. She is a hardened warrior. But that doesn't mean she isn't an easy target for ships, as her old age has made her slower and less agile. Her dragon fire is devastating but it won't do anything if she is shot out of the sky. 

Jace and Vermax focused more on the actual people on the ships rather than destroying the ships. Leaving that to Aemond and Vhagar.

Everything was going well until Aemond witnessed Vermax get caught in a grapple and yanked down. No doubt the dragon's death was immediate. Jace leapt off and crashed into the water and Aemond knew his nephew was in trouble. Vhagar dove and the men on the ships brought their crossbows out.

But before Aemond could yell the word 'Dracarys'. Another dragon swooped in under him and instantly laid waste to the ships. It forced Aemond to pull Vhagars reigns and urge her to stop.

Anyone familiar with any of the dragons can recognize the Bronze Fury. But Aemond was more than familiar with the Bronze Fury. Aemond leaned over Vhagar to catch a glimpse at the dragon flying below. 

The silver hair stood out against everything else. 

Aemond felt his heart skip multiple beats. He blocked out all the chaos, Vhagar maneuvering herself around spears. He is no longer worried about Jace. Aemond gripped the reigns and leaned forward.

"Pikagon(follow), Vhagar!" The dragon dipped down and followed behind Vermithor. Aemond was intent on getting a look at the rider. 

The combination of Vhagar and Vermithor fire destroyed the majority of the fleet. Less than 15 ships remained before white flags were waved and the retreat began. 

Aemond could barely focus, his sole attention on Vermithor. But then the dragon changed direction and flew away. Aemond, with no hesitation, followed. 

Vermithor Landed on a sandbank and Vhagar circled until she landed as well. The dragons stood opposite of each other. Aemond shakily made his way down until his boots hit the sand. The person on Vermithor made the same action. 

Aemond walked forward a few steps and he saw you. He saw you from that great distance. His legs were moving before he could register it. 

"Aemond!" He heard his name come from your voice and it spurred him faster. You had started running too, but Aemonds long legs had him reach you much quicker. You crashed into him but he held himself so he only stumbled. He grabbed your arms and looked at you. He looked you up and down. 

"H-How? I watched you die." Aemond's eye started to gloss and suddenly his eyepatch was growing irritating. You shakily brought your hands to his face and caressed his cheek with your thumb. 

"Vermithor took me to Volantis and a red priestess brought me back. The Lord of Light brought me back." 

For a moment Aemond believed he died and just hasn't realized it. But it all felt too real. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry." He pressed his forehead against yours and let the tears fall freely, the same tears falling from his other eye started to accumulate in his eyepatch. 

"It wasn't your fault."

"I should have just left with you the first time."

"There was no way we could have known, but I'm back, and hopefully for a long time." Aemond sucked in a sharp breath and stumbled backward. You grabbed his arms tightly and his knees buckled so he landed on them. You went down with him and wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders.

Aemond laid the side of his head on your chest so he could feel and listen to your heartbeat. He takes continuous deep breaths and you cradle the back of his head. Your fingers then unbuckled his eyepatch and you tossed it into the sand. 

"Aemond." He looks up, his violet eye matching yours. The sapphire shining. "I'm here, I'm okay." He swallowed harshly and looked around. 

No enemies to be seen. Just your dragons on opposite sides of the sand bank and the burning of ships in the distance.

No one was there to take you away from him again. 

Aemond kisses you like he never did before. He wrapped his arms securely around your body and pulled you onto his lap. 

He grabbed at your clothes and pinched the material tightly. He kissed you as if his life depended on it. But it was all too much for you and you pulled pack. He pushed his face into your neck, his cold nose making you shudder. His thin lips pressed against your neck, followed by multiple pecks along the skin. 

"Aemond no." He now laid sloppy wet kisses. "I smell of dragon and death." 

"Don't care."

'Cough, Cough'

Aemond pushed you to the side and scrambled to his feet. Unsheathing his sword in the process.

Jace shook his hair and hacked up more salt water. 

"Jace." You whisper and scramble up but this time running to him. "Jace!" 

He looked up from the sand to see your figure and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Y/n?" You collapsed to your knees and pulled him in. "B-But you're- am I?"

"No, you're not. I'm here Jace, I'm alive." He was trying to take in the information but exhaustion came over him and he slumped in your arms. Aemond walked up behind you to inspect his nephew.

“We need to get him back to Dragonstone.” 

-

Word reached Daemon in Harrenhall as soon as possible when the Bronze Fury was seen at the Gullet. He was back on Caraxes immediately to fly out. Velaryon and Triarchy ships were still ablaze but no sight of any dragons. The next best place would be back to Dragonstone. 

And he was right. Daemon sees Vermithor being tended to by the dragon keepers. He landed Caraxes and walked in through one of the many entrances to the castle.

He passed servants on his way to the council room, helmet clenched in his fist. They stared at him or their eyes would widen at the sight of him. Two guards at the door pushed it open for him. Everyone’s eyes turned to him and they grew silent. 

His eyes couldn’t help but trickle over to the bundle of silver hair. Baela and Rhaena stood there hugging you. Daemon’s hand went weak and the helmet clattered to the ground loudly.

You split from your sisters and smiled at Daemon.

“Father.” Daemon didn’t move from his spot when you reached him. He grabbed you and pulled you in tightly. 

“I- how? When?” He wanted to ask so many questions but you shook your head. 

“I'm here, that's all that matters.” Daemon stayed silent and held you tighter. 

-

Criston’s execution was minutes after the reunion. Death by dragon. Baby dragons, juvenile dragons. It was a horrifying watch.

-

“Do you think the red god exists?” You ask Aemond as he gently drags his finger along the healing puncture marks. 

“There are many gods.” You lean against his chest, the water in the tub sloshing. 

“Have you read about this one?” 

“There isn’t much in the library.” He kissed the side of your head and you tilted your head back. 

“And there has never been a resurrection recorded.” Aemond tensed up. 

“We don’t even know if you were actually dead, you could have passed out and I simply missed it.” 

“You watched me die,  Aemond. You saw me dead.” Aemond rolled his head and shook it side to side. “I saw nothing, the whole time there was nothing. No dream, no god to take me someplace, none of our ancestors talked to me. It was just nothing.” You started to cry and grasped the edges of the tub. Aemond wrapped his arm securely around you and cradled you. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” 

It wasn’t until you stopped crying that you could speak clearly again. You stared at the candle, the fire flickering back and forth.

“Aemond?”

“Hmm.”

“I want to give my thanks to this, god.” Aemond sighed but pressed his cheek onto the top of your head. He refused to fight about something like this. 

“Whatever you need, I am here.” The rumble coming from his chest when he spoke was comforting. 

“Avy jorrāelan(I love you).” You say and kiss his bicep. “He is the one who brought me back to you.” 

-

A/n- holy fuck, two fucking years later lol

[frankcastleonlyfans]

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒

pairing: daemon targaryen x royce!reader

summary: after an unexpected invitation to a wedding at the north, y/n royce teams up with her unbearable ex-husband, prince daemon targaryen, on a journey that leads us to Winterfell, where they plan to stop their daughter from marrying cregan stark.

author's note: this short series (it will probably be a trilogy) is based off the movie "ticket to paradise" (yes the one with george clooney and julia roberts)

warnings: enemies to lovers, short haired daemon, y/n and daemon hate each other and will probably remind you of your divorced parents. daenys is 18 and i don't remember how old is cregan sorry :)

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators 💓 please leave a comment if you like my work, and enjoy your reading.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ༓ ༓ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

You thought that years after your daughter became a woman, parenting wouldn't be a problem in your life anymore. You were wrong. As your eyes read the letter in your hand, over and over again, your mind screamed: This is all his fault!!! And of course you knew it wasn't directly his fault, after all, your ex-husband resided at King's Landing, and probably by now he'd be reading the letter, same as you, after receiving this dreadful news. Your sweet young daughter has just got engaged to Cregan Stark.

Daemon's nostrils dilated in anger. Two weeks ago, Viserys had asked him to visit Winterfell and make presence at Cregan's takeover ceremony, as he just became the new Lord of Winterfell. The Prince was ready to do so, but his precious Daenys asked him to go on her father and uncle's behalf. Now, Daemon would take the blame as he knew it was, in fact, his fault.

As the The Rogue Prince went over the words written on the paper, he could already feel your future judgmental gaze burning him alive. He had thrown his daughter to the wolves, and she thought she was prepared to lead the pack. She asked to go and he let her. Now, he was invited to a wedding at The North.

This wouldn't be happening if she lived in The Vale with you. But no, she had to choose daddy. She would always choose daddy. The Vale didn't had a dragonpit, The Vale didn't had her silver-haired family, The Vale didn't had anything but cows and sheeps and grass. But The Vale had you, and sometimes Daenys would stay for a few weeks with you, even if that meant that her dragon would be flying around Runestone and scaring the villagers.

You had received a raven from Daemon, inviting you to King's Landing so he could escort you to Winterfell on dragonback. Though you preferred the more traditional method of traveling on horseback, you accepted.

The capitol greeted you with its usual oppressive heat and unpleasant smells. It was as you remembered it: hot, congested, and overwhelmingly unpleasant. The last time you had been here was for Rhaenyra's engagement, which had turned into a wedding—and a funeral. The bitterness of that memory lingered.

The court's reception of you was as cold as the city was warm. You were an outsider—no Targaryen lineage, no purple eyes, and no place in the intricate web of court politics. Queen Alicent, though not a Targaryen herself, had embraced the court's customs, which had twisted her children into incestuous little monsters. And as for the heir to the Iron Throne, Rhaenyra's disdain for you was palpable, perhaps fueled by her own obsession with Daemon. The rest of the court's members paid little heed to your presence.

Your carriage delivered you to the Dragonpit, where Daemon was preoccupied with Caraxes, his dragon. The beast’s excitement was evident in its whistling and the way it eagerly twisted its neck to catch sight of you.

Daemon's scowl was familiar as he wrestled with Caraxes. “I wondered if you’d actually come,” he grumbled, his voice a mix of irritation and begrudging relief.

“You knew I had no choice, someone had to come fix up your mess." You shrugged, getting closer to pet the animal.

"My mess!? I don't remember telling Daenys to marry Cregan fucking Stark!" The Rogue Prince scoffed, his voice sounding a little high pitched, "I gave her a task, It's not my fault she has done something completely different."

You hissed at his audacious condescension, "You gave her your task, your responsibility. It's your fault Daemon, as everything is always your fault."

The Rogue Prince frowned as he hopped on his dragon's back, "What's that supposed to mean?"

You chose to ignore him, but accepted his help to get on top of Caraxes' back.

It took eight agonizing hours upon the skies on way to Winterfell, and you could only imagine how many Stark babies your daughter had made by now. It was quite silent upon the clouds, and you could feel the cold air of The North starting to freeze your bones. You wondered if Daenys had adapted herself to the cold already. As always, all your thoughts were on your daughter.

A soft, almost comical tune drifted over as Daemon hummed in High Valyrian while steering the dragon. You rolled your eyes and snorted.

"What’s so amusing now?" Daemon asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Just thinking about how we're going to stop her from marrying the North’s icy prince," you replied with a sigh.

Daemon’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "We should act like we're totally onboard with this. I'll get Cregan to admit he's marrying her just to get his hands on political power, and you, with your talent for manipulation, can work your magic on her."

You shot him a sharp look. "Oh, right. Because your idea of ‘support’ is turning into a two-faced schemer, and my ‘magic’ is just being a professional puppet master. Perfect."

Daemon chuckled at your response, his gaze fixed on the icy expanse below. "It’s not a matter of ‘manipulating’ her, it’s about protecting her. If this marriage goes south, it’s not just her future at risk—it’s the stability of my entire line."

“Stability? You’ve always cared more about your pride and dragons than anything else,” you retorted, shivering slightly as the cold air intensified.

“Pride and dragons have their place, but you underestimate my concern for Daenys,” Daemon said, his voice softening. “She’s my daughter too. If this marriage is a political maneuver or a trap, I need to know. And unfortunately I need your help to do that.”

The snow-covered landscape of Winterfell was becoming clearer as Caraxes descended. You glanced at Daemon, seeing a flicker of genuine worry in his eyes. For a moment, the old animosity between you seemed to melt away, replaced by a shared concern for your daughter.

As Caraxes touched down in the snow-covered grounds of Winterfell, the stark chill of the North bit through your layers. Daemon’s expression was a mix of determination and frustration, and you couldn’t help but notice how the grandeur of Winterfell seemed to dwarf the fiery presence of his dragon.

You and Daemon dismounted swiftly, the crunch of snow beneath your boots echoing in the silent, frigid air. The imposing structure of Winterfell loomed ahead, a stark contrast to the warmth and opulence of King's Landing.

“The Starks will be expecting us,” Daemon said tersely, his gaze scanning the frosty landscape. “We need to play our parts carefully.”

You nodded, still bristling from the cold and the tension between you two. “I’ll do my best. But if this whole affair is some kind of power grab or an elaborate ploy against us, I want to make sure Daenys is safe.”

Daemon’s expression softened again, a rare glimpse of vulnerability crossing his features. “We’ll find out soon enough. For now, let’s just hope this is a union built on more than just politics.”

As you approached the gates of Winterfell, the grandeur of the ancient castle was both intimidating and awe-inspiring. The guards let you pass with minimal fuss, their cold eyes assessing you and Daemon with practiced neutrality. The hallways of Winterfell were lined with Stark banners, and the warmth from the hearths provided a small relief from the biting cold outside.

You were soon ushered into a grand hall where Cregan Stark awaited. His presence was as formidable as his reputation, with an aura of quiet strength that seemed to fill the room. Beside him was Daenys, looking regal but noticeably tense, her eyes meeting yours with a mix of relief and apprehension.

“Mother, Father,” Daenys greeted, her voice steady despite the situation. “I’m glad you’ve arrived safely.”

You offered her a warm but concerned smile, taking in her attire and the unmistakable signs of stress on her face. "Daenys, dear. You look… well. But we need to talk."

Cregan stepped forward, his expression courteous but his eyes sharp. "Welcome to Winterfell. I trust the journey was not too arduous?"

Daemon gave a curt nod, his eyes fixed on Cregan. “It was long, but we’ve managed. I hope the arrangements for the wedding are proceeding as planned?”

Cregan’s expression remained neutral. “Indeed. We’ve made all necessary preparations. I’m eager to discuss the future and the alliance this marriage represents.”

As the conversation continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of a complex and possibly perilous chapter. You knew you’d have to navigate not only the intricacies of court politics but also the fraught emotions of a father who was clearly worried about his daughter’s well-being.

The banquet that followed was a display of Northern hospitality, but your mind was elsewhere, focusing on how to ensure Daenys’s future was secure. As the evening wore on, you planned your next steps carefully, knowing that every word and action would impact the delicate balance of relationships that had already been strained.

As you finally retired to your quarters for the night, you and Daemon shared a moment of silence. The weight of the situation was palpable, and while the old arguments and grievances were still there, a shared purpose had emerged. Protecting Daenys was now the priority, and perhaps, in this endeavor, you and Daemon could find some common ground, if only for a little while.

In the stillness of the night, you lay in the unfamiliar bed of Winterfell, the grandeur of the castle doing little to soothe your growing unease. The banquet had been a parade of forced smiles and veiled threats, and the cold seemed to seep through your bones with each passing moment.

A knock at your door broke the silence, and you opened it to find Daemon, his face lit by the flickering torchlight. His usually stern demeanor was tinged with a rare hint of vulnerability.

"Thought I'd find you awake," Daemon said, stepping inside, uninvited "We need to be extra cautious. Cregan Stark is shrewd, and there’s more to this marriage than meets the eye."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "Is that so? Because it sounds like you’re just now realizing what kind of game the Starks are playing. Should I prepare myself for a lecture on how wolves hunt in packs?"

Daemon scowled, clearly irritated. "I don't need you to remind me. What I need is to figure out if this alliance is a genuine union or a clever trap."

You snorted, leaning against the wall. "And you think I’m here for the fun of it? We need to be careful, Daemon. You can’t just stomp around like a bull in a wolf’s den and expect to come out unscathed."

Daemon’s eyes flashed with irritation. "I’m not planning on stomping around. I’m suggesting we handle this with some subtlety. Unlike some people who seem to think they can charm their way through every situation."

You gave him a sharp look. "Oh, don’t start with the high-handed approach. We both know you’re just as likely to spark a conflict as you are to prevent one. If you want to be useful, maybe try blending in with the Northerners instead of prancing around like a dragon amongst wolves."

He narrowed his eyes. "And maybe you could stop pretending you have all the answers and start cooperating for once. We’re in this together, whether you like it or not."

With a huff, you pushed away from the wall. "Fine. Let’s agree to not kill each other while we’re here. But remember, Daemon, while you’re plotting your next move, I’ll be the one trying to keep the peace and avoid any unnecessary skirmishes."

Daemon’s expression softened just a fraction. "Agreed. I’ll focus on not antagonizing everyone, if you focus on not making me look like a fool."

As he turned to leave, you caught his arm, a smile playing on your lips. "If this goes south, I expect a full report on how you are to blame."

He shot you a sardonic smile. "I’ll make sure to include a chapter on your unmatched ability to defuse a crisis."

With that, he left, and you returned to the window, staring out at the snow-covered grounds. The chill of Winterfell seemed to amplify the tensions between you, but perhaps, with a bit of wit and a lot of careful maneuvering, you could unravel the true nature of this alliance and ensure Daenys's future wasn't just a pawn in a Stark game.

chapter two: icy flames

[lagosbratzdoll]

sometimes i remember that “you were a child, i spared you” line that daemon says to rhaenyra and the top of my head starts getting hot. the writers/producers involved in that show are so racist that it stops me in my tracks sometimes.

they really lowered laena’s age to victimise her. every single achievement/relationship is stolen from her to prop up white characters. her husband’s love for her is taken away to prop up daemyra. her girlfriend is taken from her to prop up rhaenicent. she can’t go home because of reasons. even her claiming vhagar is taken away to prop up the one-eyed menace.

they hate black people so much that they’d rather have an incoherent, misogynistic mess of a show than stick to a canon where the characters they race bent have actual impact on the storyline. they’re all going straight to hell.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

The Driftmark scene as a whole was a hot mess, courtesy of the showrunners.

So, based on the changes they made from the book, they attempted to make Alicent and Aemond the clear victims (which they’re not, not even in the show).

A 5 year old child, after being called a bastard, threatened with death, and forced to watch his demented uncle prepare to bash his 6 year old brother’s head with a rock, made a move to stop him using a knife and ended up slashing the guy’s eye.

The intention of the 5 year old was to stop this madness. It wasn’t a premeditated thing. It was the reaction of a child.

Now, moving forward to the great “assembly”, we have Alicent who found herself to be everyone’s spokesperson and although she wasn’t there, she somehow knew exactly what happened.

There were no witnesses to this child fight. The result: two girls who were bleeding, a boy with a broken nose and another who unfortunately had his eye slashed. All this shows is that the children fought, the fight escalated and one child ended up permanently damaged.

And then, you have a full grown mid-30 year old woman demanding the 5 year old child’s eye in retribution. When no one was listening to her insane ramblings, she picked up a knife and like a lunatic, lunged herself at the opposite party. At this point, we don’t even know if she was going after Lucerys or Rhaenyra. Afterwards, in a fit of rage, this mad woman slashes the arm and wounds the heir to the throne.

To recap:

1. Alicent thought herself entitled to retribution even though no one witnessed the child fight, and therefore no one could pass judgement.

2. A few dozen people witnessed Alicent hurting Rhaenyra and no consequences followed.

And I’m supposed to be convinced by this scene that what? That the Greens are poor misunderstood victims of Viserys and Rhaenyra?

The only thing this whole scene tells me is that Alicent is an unhinged b*tch.

[floodonthefloor]

can i interest you with a rhaenicent au where rhaenyra is a football player who injured her ankle post season and had to see a therapist which turned out be alicent... AS A SUCKER OF SPORTS AU AND RHAENYRA IN CLOTHING APPAREL

ok i wrote a one shot for u rated T

~

It's one thing to get injured mid-game; there's a sense of nobility to it, a sense of look at me, limping off the field, brave and unbothered, cheers from the crowd for Rhaenyra simply hobbling away. It's another thing entirely to twist your fucking ankle during a fucking friendly.

She should have known, really, that it would end up like this. The pitch is damp, there are patches of mud from cleats trampling the grass, and Coach Tyrell is running them to the bone, and Rhaenyra’s in a foul fucking mood.

Still, she plays like winning will erase every mess she's ever made off the field, which — yeah — talk about setting yourself up for failure, considering she's made a lot of fucking mistakes, and the defenders are closing in, and Laena's in the center with her hand raised signalling for a pass, but Rhaenyra gets distracted, thinks about how Viserys is probably at Aegon's training right now, because Aegon plays men's football, and it's just much higher stakes, you see, my dear—

And Rhaenyra shifts her weight to the left to feint one of the defenders, but then her cleat slips on the fucking mud and she feels her knee twist awkwardly, and feels the pain shooting up her leg before she goes down hard.

Rhaenyra tries to get up immediately — pride, stubbornness, embarrassment, whatever — but the pain lances sharp, she grimaces before she can stop it. Laena sprints towards her.

“You alright?” Laena extends a hand that Rhaenyra reaches for.

“My knee,” she grits out. “I — fuck —” she hisses when she rises. “I think I’ve fucked it up.”

“Okay. Alright.”

Coach Tyrell does a half-jog over to them. 

“Targaryen?” she asks, frowning. “No need to play for a foul here, just a friendly —”

“Yeah, no,” Rhaenyra grumbles, putting an arm around Laena as Laena guides her off the field. “No, it’s real.”

“Take it slow,” Laena murmurs. 

They get into the changing rooms, where Laena calls over one of the first aid attendants.

“Think she’s fucked up her knee,” Laena says as the attendant gets Rhaenyra to extend her leg, which hurts like fucking hell. 

“Could be a sprain,” the attendant says, her face a little concerned. “Maybe worse. We’ll need to get it checked, but you should stay off it for now? I’ll get you some ice?”

Rhaenyra nods, leans back against the wall, huffing. “Fucking great. Just great.”

“Cool down, Targaryen,” Laena says, sitting beside her as the attendant goes into the office. “Not the end of the world.”

“Terrible timing,” Rhaenyra says, referring to the fact that post-season is over in, like, two months, and sprains take forever to heal.

“It’s always terrible timing,” Laena says. “You’ll be fine. Stubborn streak, and all.”

Rhaenyra lets out a frustrated breath, staring at the opposite row of lockers. “Just feels like another thing I’ve fucked up,” she says quietly.

“Rhaenyra.” Laena’s voice is quiet, serious, bereft of the playfulness from before. “You didn’t fuck it up. It’s just shitty luck.”

The attendant returns, handing Rhaenyra an ice pack. 

“Fifteen minutes,” she instructs, “I’m going to go contact the physiotherapist -”

“I don’t need physio —”

The attendant gives Rhaenyra a look, then turns to Laena. “Would you mind spotting our dear friend here while she tries to stand on it?”

Fine. Fuck you. 

Rhaenyra glares at the attendant, pushes herself off of the bench, only to immediately have to grab onto Laena as the pain flares hot and sharp, her knee almost buckling underneath her. 

“Yeah, you seem fine,” Laena deadpans as the attendant just quirks her brow and goes back into the office. “Let’s get back out there.”

Rhaenyra groans, feels pain and defeat — she can already see the look on Viserys’ face when she tells him.

Oh, that’s just fine, my sweet— injuries happen, rest is good, while if Aegon ended up with a similar injury, Viserys would be flying in physiotherapists from all over the globe in order to find the perfect one, since Aegon is the one who plays professional men’s soccer and is paid millions a year —

The attendant returns, holding a piece of paper. “Alicent Hightower is fantastic at her job,” she says, passing it to Rhaenyra. “If anyone will have you in tip-top shape before your first match, it’ll be her.”

Rhaenyra takes the paper, folds it, twists her mouth.

Horseshit. This is all such fucking horseshit.

*****

PAIN IS TEMPORARY. GREATNESS LASTS FOREVER.

Rhaenyra glares at the cheesy fucking poster— it’s of a determined-looking athlete mid-stride, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. She’s been here a handful of times already for smaller injuries, and this won’t be any different, it won’t— she’ll be back tomorrow, if she can help it, and it doesn’t matter what this physiotherapist has to say, because —

“— Rhaenyra Targaryen?”

She looks from the poster to see who she can only presume is Alicent Hightower, waiting for Rhaenyra. Her dark red hair is pulled up into a ponytail, arms crossed, sharp eyes, really fucking fit, what in the fucking shit —

(Their last physiotherapist was a lovely old man named Mellos who always smelled a little bit like mothballs and loved to rubber-stamp them.)

Rhaenyra rises slowly, her knee still smarting, but she doesn’t show it, because she doesn’t have to, she’s fine.

“...That’s me.”

“Nice to meet you. I've heard a lot,” Alicent says, though not quite warm, like she’s not someone who’s impressed by things like reputation or fame. She gestures with her chin for Rhaenyra to follow.

“Good things?”

Alicent doesn’t turn around as they walk down the hall. “Things.”

The fuck —

“Oh. Good.” 

Alicent shuts the door behind her as Rhaenyra takes a seat, drops onto the table. 

“I’m sure this will be quick,” Rhaenyra says casually. “Just need you to give me a few exercises to get me back on track.”

This doesn’t get her a response; Alicent’s scrolling through something on her iPad before she sets it down, grabs a clipboard and pulls up a chair to sit directly in front of Rhaenyra.

“When does the pain flare up the most?”

Rhaenyra clenches her jaw. All the time.

“Just when I put weight on it.”

“Any swelling or bruising?”

“Some swelling. Bruising’s mostly gone, though -”

“- And the pain? How would you rate it, on a scale of one to ten?”

“…Depends,” Rhaenyra replies, nonchalant. “Walking— a three. Running, more like a six. But I can handle it -”

“Any pain at rest? Or only during activity?”

Rapid-fire.

“Sometimes at rest. When I wake up in the mornings.  But, again— it goes away, it doesn’t last that long.”

Alicent just looks at Rhaenyra like she doesn’t believe her. “…Right.”

She asks a few more questions— enough that it almost feels like she repeats a few, which Rhaenyra realizes a little too late that she’s doing to try and get the truth out of Rhaenyra.

Fucking physiotherapists. 

"Okay— I'm going to take a look at it— okay if I touch?"

Beyond fucking okay —

"Yep. Sure. Mhm."

Rhaenyra is only a human being with eyes who is being touched by literally the most beautiful woman she's seen in ages, and Rhaenyra feel the warmth of Alicent’s skin through the thin fabric of her shorts, can’t help but notice how the light catches the few loose strands of auburn hair framing her face —

This is ridiculous, you’re being sodding ridiculous, you just need to get laid because it’s been forever —

She tries to focus on literally anything else, but the room feels suddenly smaller, the air charged, and it’s hard to pretend like she’s not hyper-aware of every inch of space between them.

But Alicent is focused, her gaze steady as she lifts Rhaenyra’s calf, guiding it carefully to the right angle. 

“Tell me when it starts to hurt,” she says, her voice calm, professional.

Rhaenyra clears her throat, willing her brain to cooperate. 

“Uh, yeah, yep. It’s… fine right now.”

Alicent’s hands linger for a moment longer, adjusting Rhaenyra’s position. Her touch is deliberate, almost impersonal, but something about it sends a small jolt up Rhaenyra’s spine, and she can’t help the hitch in her breath — fuck —

Please tell me she didn’t hear that —

Alicent glances up, frowning slightly.

“...Everything okay?”

Shit, fuck —

“—Fine,” Rhaenyra replies too quickly, voice tight. “Totally fine.”

Alicent arches an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Instead, she presses gently on Rhaenyra’s thigh, testing the range of motion. “Let me know if it gets too uncomfortable.”

Rhaenyra tries to steady her breathing.

This is physio, not whatever the fuck you think it is, Alicent Hightower is your physiotherapist, and Alicent Hightower is in close proximity, and her brows are furrowed in concentration, and I think I smell citrus in her shampoo —

“You’re tense,” Alicent observes suddenly, her voice breaking the silence. “Relax, please.”

Rhaenyra’s laugh comes out strangled. 

“Hard to relax when—” She stops herself, the words almost slipping out — when you’re touching me like that or looking at me like that while looking like that —

What the fuck is wrong with me—

Alicent looks up, curious. “When…?”

Rhaenyra swallows, her mouth dry. “...When I’m thinking about how long this is going to take.

Alicent’s eyes narrow, as if she’s not quite buying the deflection. But she only nods, her tone matter-of-fact.

“Well. That depends on how well you listen.”

“Right,” Rhaenyra mutters, feeling slightly relieved that the moment passes without further comment. “I’ll try to be a better student, then.”

“Good,” Alicent says, but there’s a faint, knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she shifts her grip and continues the stretch.

“…It’s looking like a ligament tear, and not a sprain,” Alicent murmurs finally, setting Rhaenyra’s leg down and writing notes down.

Oh, fuck.

Rhaenyra shrugs. “I mean— probably not, those are bad, and this doesn’t feel bad— it’s temporary, it’ll be fine —”

“Just because it’s temporary doesn’t mean it won’t impact you long-term,” Alicent says, looking up at Rhaenyra with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah,” Rhaenyra mutters, “Got that from the posters.”

Alicent’s lips press together, as though keeping herself from laughing, and she shrugs, looks back down at her clipboard. “…Those are pretty terrible, yes.”

It’s a nice moment of levity that Rhaenyra tries to take advantage of. 

"A woman with taste."

Alicent snorts. "Bar seems low, if that's your idea of good taste."

"...My bar is quite high, actually."

Alicent looks up, eyebrow quirked, and Rhaenyra decides to be bold and meets her eyes, knows that sometimes, if she flirts just enough, people will generally be a bit more lenient.

"That so?" Alicent murmurs, looking back down at her clipboard, though Rhaenyra doesn't miss the slight pink that appears in her cheeks.

"That's so. I'd say you clear it, though."

Alicent's pen stops writing for a satisfying moment, and Rhaenyra waits for her rebuttal, but she just clears her throat and keeps writing, doesn't respond.

Rhaenyra continues, a little flustered. "Okay, but— long story short, it’s fine. I just need you to tell me how to stretch it and I can go, you don’t have to —”

“— Are you any good at football, Rhaenyra?” Alicent asks, not looking up from her clipboard.

“…I’m sorry?”

Alicent finishes writing whatever notes she was jotting down and sets her pen on top of the clipboard, giving Rhaenyra a hard glare. 

“Are you good at football.”

“I mean — captain of the national women’s team, so— I’d say I’m pretty good, yes -?”

“— Mhm, right. You’d say you earned it, though, yes? Years of training, practice, et cetera.”

Okay— she’s fit and rude —

Which is an unfortunate combo, really, because Rhaenyra's always had a tendency to try and impress women who are fit and rude —

“…Yes?”

Alicent nods, resolute. “I’m a physiotherapist on retainer for three premiere leagues — ones even bigger than yours, mind you —”

“— Oh, I doubt any are bigger than mine,” Rhaenyra quips back, only to turn bright red immediately because what the fuck are you doing making dick size jokes in front of this physiotherapist, what the fuck are you doing —

“…Anyway,” Alicent says, clearing her throat, and Rhaenyra does notice her ears turn a little red, which is interesting, to say the least — “I’ve earned my keep. Same as you. If you want to get back on the pitch, you need to listen to me.”

Rhaenyra’s still trying to push down the flush in her cheeks, trying to focus on anything but the fact that she just made an accidental dick joke to a woman who is both fit and determined to put Rhaenyra in her place. 

“...Fine,” Rhaenyra mutters, half a grumble. “What do I have to do.”

Alicent leans back slightly, crossing her arms, clearly not swayed by Rhaenyra’s attempt at compliance. “First, you’re going to stop thinking you know better than me. You may know how to play football, but I know how to fix you so you that can play it. Understood?”

Rhaenyra clenches her jaw again, nods once.

“And second,” Alicent continues, casual, “You need to accept that you might not make it back in time for the season opener.”

No.

Rhaenyra feels the air rush out of her chest.

“Excuse me -?”

“- If the damage is as bad as I think it is," Alicent says, and holds Rhaenyra’s gaze, unflinching. "Rushing recovery isn’t just dangerous—it’s reckless. You push too hard, too soon, and you risk re-injury. Maybe even worse.”

Rhaenyra’s throat tightens, her whole body going rigid. 

Not the fucking season opener, not after a fucking injury from a friendly, no no no no—

“You don’t— you don’t know that for sure.”

Alicent doesn’t flinch, doesn’t soften. “No, I don’t. But I know enough to recognize the risk. You have to let this heal properly, or you’re gambling with your entire career.”

Rhaenyra can feel her temper rising, hot and volatile. “You think I don’t know that?” Her voice is raw, a mix of anger and desperation. “You think I’m not aware of what’s at stake- ?”

“I think you’re scared,” Alicent says quietly, with an unwavering certainty. “And I think you’re letting that fear make decisions for you.”

Rhaenyra glares at her, eyes blazing. “You don’t know me -"

“No,” Alicent concedes, her voice low but still firm. “I don’t. But I know this injury. I know what it’s done to players who didn’t listen, who thought they could just push through it.”

She pauses, her gaze still locked on Rhaenyra, something different there, something like —

Enough, she's telling you bad fucking news —

“And... I don’t want that to be you.”

And Alicent sounds so sincere, so gentle that it cuts right through Rhaenyra’s anger and leaves just a raw and exposed wound —

I can’t miss the season opener, I can’t, Viserys was going to come and he never goes to my matches, ever —

“I can’t miss it, Alicent -”

“- I get it,” Alicent says, leaning forward, placing a reassuring hand on Rhaenyra’s knee, and it’s not clinical this time, it’s not practiced, it’s soft with a thumb rubbing along her knee and Rhaenyra might either cry or explode. “I really do. But sometimes— missing one game means you can play the rest, yeah?”

“I can’t just miss it -”

“— You have to see the bigger picture, here.” Alicent gestures towards Rhaenyra’s knee. 

“I can’t.”

Alicent leans forward, slowly, deliberately, and okay, there’s absolutely something here, Rhaenyra can’t be crazy— her heart is hammering a little too loudly, the air feels a little too thick. “Then let me see it for you, Rhaenyra. Let me help you get better.”

Rhaenyra remembers a similar conversation she’d had with Mellos, years ago— he’d told her she would have to miss semi-finals, and she’d yelled at him until he had to call Coach Tyrell to put Rhaenyra in her place, and even then Rhaenyra had refused, until Tyrell threatened to kick her off the team.

But Alicent Hightower looks up at Rhaenyra now like I’ll help you, just let me help you, and Rhaenyra came in here ready for a fucking fight, ready to tell whoever the fuck it is that tells her she needs rest to fucking fuck right off, but Rhaenyra looks at Alicent and thinks —

Yeah. Okay. 

She swallows, hard.

“Yeah,” she says, voice a little hoarse. “Okay.”

[writingsofwesteros]

Alicent was hot as fuck when riding Criston in that scene

Criston looked so delicious being used by his queen too.

Imagine him being used by Alicent’s younger daughter, her daddy issues have her craving the handsome knight, he’s always looking after them even if he doesn’t have to. The first time she sleeps with him is after asking him to come to her chambers one late night. She pretends to be a teary mess telling him she’s been feeling weird tingles in her cunny lately, practically begging him to stop them. He’s so weak with his lust for women he obliges, devouring her and fucking her the whole night long. After that she has him wrapped around her pretty finger, having the knight sprawled out in her bed as she gags on his fat cock while he tries his best to not touch her pretty silver locks. She’s such a bad girl, begging him to kiss or fuck her in public places when she desperately needs her knight. Those pretty doe eyes always have him submitting to her wishes, letting her use him in the gardens or swapping spit with him in the keep’s library. She still has to drink moon tea since she’s an unwed maiden, but she promises him that she’ll have all his pretty dornish babes when she marries. Maybe she marries Jace to prevent the dance, it’s also much easier to have her plain featured babes pass off as his. But those tan little beauties say otherwise, especially since they love to spend time with their mother and the lord commander alone. The pair kissing and loving each other in her chambers while their little loves played around them. Rhaenyra and Jace can’t even do anything about it, it’d be hypocritical of them to accuse the princess of having bastards and a lover.

!!!!!!!!!!

Oh she does have him wrapped around her finger thats for sure

Criston truly can't help himself, how could he when she came onto him so innocently. And now he can't find it in himself to stop. Nor would she ever allow that.

[thewingedwolf]

@sanguinem-di-virginis i think both the blacks and the greens are idiots who are going to set the realm on fire because of their egos, because targaryens have a tendency to set whole continents on fire when they feel insulted which is why i dislike them. i love to shittalk the lannisters but at the very least, for all tywin does a lot of damage before he gets elvis’d, the red wedding is something that took a lot of plotting & backdoor deals & is going to pale in comparison to the damage dany is about to do to kl in a single day completely on her own, bc dragons are more dangerous than the freys, boltons, and lannisters could ever dream of being. however, i am perfectly capable of finding specific targaryens compelling & i find rhaenyra (and jace) -

a) far more interesting than basically everyone else involved in the dance on either side

b) show wise, the only character who stops for a single minute to think about the cost of this war, and also, explicitly worries about the long night, which is way more than you can say for like 90% of the lords in the main show, including dany herself, who is also the personification of targ restoration

c) in the same vein that i can acknowledge cersei experiences a shitton of sexism while still being a decidedly bad person, or acknowledge that melisandre is a really awesome character who experiences horrific powerlessness but deals with it by enacting that horror on others, it’s very clear that in the show & books, the push against rhaenyra as queen, whatever other motivations exist (and obviously there are some other motivations) is rooted initially and obviously in sexism. in fact, targaryen men (and therefore the kl power structure) are so much more patriarchal and worse about that shit that it makes sense to me that targs have sooooooo many Evil Girlboss characters - you raise someone to believe they’re a god amongst mortals and then make it clear to them that they’re also not worth shit because of their gender, and it’s going to lead to a lot of very violent, very politically angry women who are often more capable of extreme violence than their male counterparts specifically because of the way they chafe under the patriarchy while being the most powerful women in the realm.

The difference for me is that I find Rhaenyra more sympathetic & compelling as a character than Dany, and I feel for her on her path to War Crimey Evil in a way I simply do not for Dany but at the same time, I don’t want any Targs to rule, i just think Rhaenyra is the most compelling of the Targs that exist during the dance. And i also find a lot of pro-green people to be deeply annoying bc the hightowers are not targs but still use awful, violent means to get what they want and fuck over the poor in the process (like, cole is a creepy pos in the books and has zero redeeming qualities & in the show he hate crimes Joffrey & calls Rhaenyra a spoiled cunt after she is forced to walk across the castle while literally still pushing the placenta out of her fucking body. and alicent just like, overlooks his very real violence bc he hates rhaenyra & rhaenyra is her political enemy. it’s not great!!) and also, crucially, the hightowers literally are still fighting to put a targaryen on the throne!!!!! and their targaryen, show wise, is a rapist who passes his time in BABY MURDER PITS.

anyways tldr i just think Rhaenyra is compelling and i fucking hate aegon, criston, & otto with the fire of a thousand suns, but also, i am an anarchist at heart who thinks the people should rise up and overthrow all these dumb bitches & while I’ll definitely be crying over my blorbo dying at the end, i’m really excited to see the people of kl storm the dragon pits bc the targaryens are all idiots & monsters who keep untamed animals capable of slaughtering whole cities in the middle of king’s landing!

me switching wildly between house of the dragon, game of thrones, and asoiaf fixations (yes they are different!!!) so my followers understand that my stance is anti greens < anti dany < pro rhaenyra & jace < anti lannister < anti targ restoration < pro house stark and a time for wolvessssss bitch <<<<<<<< pro “It is no matter to them if the high lords play their game of thrones, so long as they are left in peace. They never are.” peasantry overthrowing the whole system, a stance that is tied to my pro stark stance bc the real threat is the never ending wars of succession that engulf the realm in fire and the literal ice zombie apocalypse north of the wall, stop fighting each other and slaughtering innocent people u fucking dweebs

[themotherofblood]

Let’s Play Dress Up

Vampire!Rhaenyra x Reader x Vampire!Daemon

masterlist | Bloody Baby AU | Vampire AU

synopsis: Ms Blood Bag breaks a rule to play her little game, stumbles onto Rhaenyra’s midnight snack. Rhaenyra punishes Baby to prove to Daemon she isn’t soft with Baby

warnings: DARK! DUBCON (I think) NONCON (to be safe) blood, blood drinking, infantilism, mdlg vibes? mommy mink, sub space? pet play, spanking (paddle), clamps (nipples and clit), vibrators, exhibitionism? butt plugs and bondage. overstimulation!! degradation!! pussy spanks. heel worship. WlW,

A/N: what have I done 😨

Another day of digging through your closet, gowns of pinks, baby blues, sweetheart neck lines, halter tops, sparkly, tulle, high slits—high slit. You happily shuffled out of your sundress for the day, your getting ready playlist blaring through the ceiling speakers. The red dress hugged your body perfectly, the silk so cold it made your nipples perk up and rub against the fabric. You excitedly twirled, damn— you already imagined your best friend hooting at you once she saw you in this. You clicked a picture and sent it to her, nibbling at your thumb and smiling to yourself.

Makeup, because why not, you still had five hours before Rhaenyra made it home. Daemon had left for Braavos the night before, preparing for the charity gala for a deal well struck. You hummed along, rubbing moisturiser into your skin, you had hoped to put on some mascara, maybe a nice bold lip to match the dress— mostly since it would be easy to scrub off in the shower. It was only then you realised from all the lip glosses, oils and sticks. Not a single red, barely darker than a hot pink. You pouted, you knew this was Daemon’s doing, forever infantilising you to his perfect little girl. The frilly socks and the bowl of candy in your room.

You knew who did have beautiful red shades— Rhaenyra! You knew you weren’t supposed to be in their rooms when they weren’t home. Only having been inside the dark scarlet room twice, the night of the party and the second was when they showed you the cabinet full of dragon eggs. You sauntered over, your Versace pumps clicking against the marble floor as you walked across the corridor to the other end of the grand staircase. You rested your hand upon the gold handle for a moment, looking back to your rooms once more— they wouldn’t know — you pushed the handle open.

The strong scent of mahogany and vanilla filled your nostrils, you once more looked to your rooms and the the floor below through the trim railings to check for Mrs Stone before slowly closing the door behind, wincing at the gentle thud as it latched close. You turned, the thick maroon and sheer white curtains pulled, the only glow in the room came from the heated egg chambers. You happily trotted over, squatting down to admire them once more.

“Hello dragons.” You mused, petting the egg from the outside, finger dragging against the warm glass. “Will you hatch? Maybe one crack…” you spoke to the white egg with gold scales “no? Please?”

What pulled you from your adoration gleam upon the dragons was the quiet but very apparent whines echoing in the room. You looked around the living space, finding nothing as you stood in confusion and stood straight. Walking towards your left to Rhaenyra walk-in-closet. The moment you stepped in, the soft vanilla smell of her perfume became more apparent. Her closet far bigger than yours, shelves covered with glass doors and quaint vanity at the end of the room. The centre island filled with jewels, rubies, gold, a very distinct dark metal necklace with rubies laid on a plush velvet holder. Valyrian steel, just like Daemon and Rhaenyra’s signet rings.

You looked at the vanity, eyeing the perfect scarlet to match your skin tone and the dress. You pout your lips to swipe the colour across your lips before looking side to side, a little messy without lip liner but just to mess around? This would have to do, you wiped around the corners of your mouth before making sure everything was placed right back where the belong before leaving.

Again, you were graced with whimpers, you were sure they were there. You should have left, you knew you should have. However your curiosity are at your as you ventured further to their bedroom, and then it was. The source of the whimpers, a tied redheaded woman, heaving with the gag shoved in her mouth. Her hands chained to the brass ringlet mounted to the wall, the second she say you her shoulders slumped as she blinked her tears away. Then she gestured her head to the chains, you gulped - fuck, what the hell had you stumbled into - you walked forward bending to her eyes, worried for the poor thing.

You pulled the tape from her mouth, cries pouring through in relief. She had dried blood running down her neck, chipping against her skin. She sniffled her cries to try and halt them.

“Ho- how long have you been here.” She hiccuped, seeing a glimmer of hope for survival in you

“Two months…” you looked to her chapped lips “do you need water?”

She furiously nodded as you stood up, tiptoeing across to your room to not alert Mrs Stone as your grabbed your pink cup and sprinted back with your skirt hiked up.

You bent by her head again, holding the straw to her lips and letting her drink, her hair was in a messy braid, the stray hairs clinging to her skin and her skin ghostly pale. You pulled two tissues from the tissue box on the side table and wet it with the water from your cup. Gently rubbing away the dried blood.

“We have to leave!” She croaked “why haven’t you run?”

“Run? I live here now, with Daemon and Rhaenyra. This is my home.” You monotonically replied, still wiping away at the blood, your heart mildly thudding. Not for her, she shouldn’t be here.

She was in their room, chained by their bed. You weren’t even allowed in here. Your heart thud louder as you rubbed away “we can never leave.”

“No! You don’t understand, we can run…” she huffs “I counted steps and you— you know this place. Please! Untie me, we can go.” More tears fell from her eyes as she pleaded with you.

You looked back to the door before reaching for her cuffs, that heaviness in your chest returning as you unhooked the bonds for the ringlet and started pulling at the chains.

“What do you think you are doing?” Rhaenyra’s stern voice spoke up from behind you.

Your blood froze as you slowly turned to face, “uh- I— she,” your words began to fail you.

“Get away from her.” Rhaenyra commanded, pointing at the bed for you to go sit on the bed.

A hard glare fixated itself within the purple of her eyes as she swiftly tied up the red haired woman again.

“Was she letting you go, sweetie.” Rhaenyra asked the girl, petting away her hair and you frowned harder. You’re her sweetie. The girl nodded, making Rhaenyra tut before turning to you. Her eyebrows quirk, awaiting an explanation.

You looked at your fiddling finger on your lap, unable to muster up an answer as she came to hold up your jaw. She was disappointed, you could see it in her eyes.

“What was the rule?” Rhaenyra questioned, she should have known your curiosity would kill you soon. Mostly she was worried that you would be terrified of her now.

“Don’t go to your room.” You whispered, still trying to look away.

Hmm

“You just had to play dress up that badly, huh?” she stroked her thumb across your cheek. “Let’s play dress up then.”

You sat on your knees, moving your weight uncomfortably.

“Don’t be scared.” Rhaenyra had whispered, forcing your to look at her, your head went blank for a moment and then your heart wasn’t thudding as hard anymore

All you could here were the placated whimpers from the red-haired girl sitting on Rhaenyra’s lap as she fed on her. Not a drop of blood trickled down as she controlled the flow of the girl’s blood through the carotid. Jealously was burning at your throat as Rhaenyra took her time leisurely feeding on this girl, she only fed like that on you. You were all pouty, however you couldn’t look away if you knew what was best for you.

Rhaenyra had dressed you throughly, after ripping through your red gown, she had pushed a cabinet to open. Pulling out a red collar to wrap around you neck, she had cherry lubed your ass, pushing in a plush red kitten tail butt plug into your hole and then promptly pulling onto it to tease you. Clamps with kitten bells on them had been pinching on your nipples as she sucked them hard before sliding them on. Your horror was when she flicked her tongue against your clit just the way you liked it to have you squirming and then clamped the little bud over the hood. The kitten bell adding just enough weight for it to remain dangling in between your legs.

You wanted to call out to her, beg her to feed from you instead but you couldn’t. You focused so hard on the way her lips’s suckled around the girl’s skin. There were tears rolling down your red hot cheeks.

Rhaenyra pushed the girl off her, she was still conscious but too weak to break her fall as she laid flat with a thud.

“Come here kitty,” she motioned her fingers towards you. “Come to Mommy baby.”

You moved to stand but she stopped you, “Crawl to me.”

You placed your palms flat against the plush rug, crawling over to the space in between Rhaenyra’s legs without giving the barely moving girl’s body laid on the other side of the floor. The bells clamped to you jingled as you inched forward, longing to bury your head in between her thighs.

You stopped in between her thighs, glancing up at her through your lashes, your glossy red lips just begging to be kissed and bitten. You were about to rest your head on her thigh but she pushed you back with her heeled foot.

“Lick my heels, kitty.” she smiled, tapping her other foot on the ground.

You waited for a moment before bending down, your pink tongue poking out and licking a strip through the pencil-thin heel of her red-bottom shoes. You hummed, kissing the heel. Taking your sweet time to show her how sorry you were. She tapped your cheek with her other foot, letting you switch over and lick up the covered foot and then her heel.

Rhaenyra pulled you up by the hair, admiring the lengths you had gone to play your little dress up game before. The red bows in your hair would have Daemon feral and she knew the perfect way to coax her husband back home early. She reached down to pinch both your nipples as she pulled you up to your feet, you yelped, the sting radiating through your tits as you gave her the pouted lips once more.

She stood to push you down where she sat, taking a moment to admire the mess you were soon to be before flicking her middle onto your pouted lips, they wouldn’t work this time. The connectable cuffs laying idle around your wrists and ankles were just waiting to be used as Rhaenyra pulled you to the edge of the bed. You scent of gleaming cunt making her impatient as she hooked each of your ankles to your wrists, forcing you to keep your legs spread open.

“Now— you’ve been bad.” She began, shuffling down to pick up the forgotten flogger in her hands.

“I’m sorry Mommy.” You whimpered the second you saw her stroking through the ropes of the flogger.

“Ah- ah kitties don’t talk baby,” she tutted, reminding you of the plug situated in your asshole as she gently pulled on the plug to stroke the tail. “Use that dumb baby brain of yours and tell me, what do kitties do?”

The humiliations burned through your chest, more tears welling in your eyes but what other alternative did you have?

“Meow?” you asked, hoping to appease her enough to weasel your way out of this predicament.

“Good girl!” She praised before swatting the flogger sharp against your ass. Your help bringing her much joy.

“Let’s see—“ she rubbed the sore skin of your ass “Mommy will strike you ten times, and you will count? You can count kitty? Can’t you?”

You nodded your head, sniffling.

“Good, let’s begin then.”

The first hit landed against your ass, your body stiffened as you whimpered. “O-one.” You stammered.

Another immediate strike radiated through your rear, much harder—a penalty. You made mistake. “Kitties do not talk.” She reiterated.

“Meow.” You sobbed.

The lashes came one after the other, Rhaenyra had enough sympathy in her heart to soothe the sore flesh with her palm as she waited for you to mewl out your kitten count before striking harder than the one before. The last one, you screamed. Legs shuddering from the pain as your cried out the last count. Face covered in mascara tears and snot as you lamented the ache on your ass, the tips of the flogger curling bitterly around you curves to cover the expanse of your skin. Some cruelly being landed right onto your cunt, the fourth one making your squirt from the pain.

Rhaenyra sighed, dropping the flogger and reaching for her phone in her trouser pocket. The sight of your reddened, blue ass was sure to be a ticket home for Daemon.

“Look here baby, pose for mommy.” she cooed, the frame perfectly capturing your tear-soaked face, your sopping cunt and your bruised ass. Even the little red ribbons in your hair leaking from behind made it in, along with the tail hanging over the edge of your bed. Your swollen little clamped nub also waiting to say hello to Daddy. She smiled to herself as she sent the live picture to Daemon before tossing her phone to the armchair.

She was nowhere near done with breaking you apart just yet.

She pulled out a vibrator next, hoping to reward you for taking your spankings like a good little girl. She reached up to the bed to place a pillow under your back to angle you to her liking before shuffling behind you, pulling you snugly between her legs. She unhooked the cuffs, holding onto your ankles as she freed them. You whimpered feeling the cramps in your hips.

“Shhh—you are fine kitten, no more pain for you.” She cooed, letting your legs fall before hooking her calves around them to keep them spread open.

She reached for the oh so yearning bud next, the worst of it all. Toying with the little bell as you yipped and flinched, she gently pulled it off. Letting the bundle of nerves fill but blood again, the filling pain had you crying out. Trying to bury yourself in Rhaenyra hold as she consoled you.

“Oh baby, so swollen look.” She curred, letting the pads of her fingers gently graze over the peaking flesh before pushing the hood behind.

She turned on the vibrator, the setting low as she pressed against your clit. You squirmed against her hold but to no avail. She tapped the vibrator on your bud. You still mewled, rubbing your hips into the cool object.

Even in the throb of your ass and the one very evident in your clit, your first orgasm tore through you out of nowhere.

“That’s it, good girl!” Rhaenyra praised as she pressed down the vibrator hard, switching the setting up higher.

Just as the waves of the first one washed over, dread-filled in your belly as Rhaenyra didn’t pull away. You cried harder, the oversensitive tingle in your bud began to knock the air out of your lungs. Clawing at your insides as you cleaned harder around nothing, wanting to beg her to stop, please mommy, you tapped at her thigh but she wouldn’t budge.

Rhaenyra knew you would break, you would speak. She didn’t want to hurt you more for violating another rule, finding the only solution for this and sticking two fingers into your mouth. Using it to gag you as she stroked your slimy tongue, your soft lips curled around her fingers as your muffled wails indicated your next peak.

This time you gushed around the vibrator, screaming from the back of your mouth as Rhaenyra pulled out her fingers to push open your hood further, letting those cruel vibrations focus on your weeping clit. You thrashed, shaking your head as the wave toppled you down, eyes rolling to the back of your head, back arching away from Rhaenyra Your entire body stiffened as the warmth engulfed you once more.

Rhaenyra turned off the toy, dropping it on the bed next to her as she held you through your orgasm. The pads of her fingers rubbing through your folds gently and circling around your throbbing clit. You still sobbed in her arms, unable to speak, you looked up at her. Vision blurred from tears as you cried, Rhaenyra kissed your temple as she pulled off the nipple clamps.

You shrieked as she rubbed them, soothing the pebbled flesh with the cool pads of her thumbs. So bitterly pinched and hardened.

You wept, letting Rhaenyra scoop you up into her lap; your head immediately burying itself into her chest as you wailed, she was rocking you, like a child grazing their knee upon she was soothing you with the rubs on your back.

You look up at her, still hiccuping through your sobs. She knew what you wanted, tracing the trembling bottom lip as she laid a peck on it.

“You can speak, baby.” She purred, her eyes long softened at the broken figure of yours.

“I- I’m sorry Mommy.” You pule, then again hiding your face in her chest.

Rhaenyra might have sat there for hours, rocking your shaking frame in her hands, humming a Valyrian lullaby to soothe your aching.

“Do I not make Daddy and you happy anymore?” You weakly mused, your fingers toying with the gold chain on Rhaenyra’s neck.

She frowned looking down at you before nudging her nose against your forehead to make you look up at her.

“What makes you say that?”

“She gets to stay with you at night,” you referred to the red-haired girl “You like feeding on her.”

“Oh, baby.” she cooed in a sing-song voice “She is just a midnight snack,” Rhaenyra explained. “Just like the candy bags in your room.”

You were still pouting, satiated with the answer but unhappy. You could still see her wrist laying on the floor, you looked away.

There was a longing, you needed to be sure. You lifted your wrist to her lips, looking at her pleadingly.

“You want me to feed on you?” Rhaenyra tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, a burst of triumph flared in her chest. The reasons to compel you into feeding seemed to have been fading.

“Please, Mommy.” You mumbled, shuffling further into her hold.

Rhaenyra took hold of your wrist, just grazing the poking nerve with her fangs as her eyes darkened, the nerves yet again pooling around her eyes, a terrifying sight to most but not to you. She hummed before sinking her fangs into the flesh. Fine caviar amongst the pretenders, she groaned at the sweet coppery taste of your blood. Watching over you as you closed your eyes, dozing in a soft slumber dancing across your eyes.

Phew… here’s another Rhaenyra focused chapter. I’m sorry if this is a bit much compared to my usually vanilla smut (minus the incest)

I’m giggling thinking of Daemon loosing his find over the picture of tied up and weeping Ms Blood Bag

comments and reblogs are appreciated.

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[jillapril]

+++ Analyzing Alicent - HotD S2Ep2 +++

Alright. Overall, I liked episode 2. Loved Rhaenyra in it and I am glad that I don’t feel the need to explain her actions the way I feel I have to do so with Alicent. It was a difficult episode for Alicent. My thoughts…

- Now we know for sure, she feels guilty for having sinned - for having had sex - and she fears the gods have sent her a punishment by killing her grandson.

- I felt a glimpse of relief when she closed the door, leaving Criston outside, as she was about to take a bath. She was acting cold towards him, kind of passive aggressive. No signs of tenderness. When he says that there is no absolution for what he has done, I guess she thinks the same about herself - but is still in a kind of denial.

- Daeron was mentioned. I don’t know what she thinks of him, I found her reaction rather weird. Like none at all. But she did not want Otto to go to Oldtown. Could be because she does not want Daeron to get involved into this mess now, too - though it seems inevitable. Or maybe she does not have any relationship to him at all and really just thinks taking care of Highgarden is more important. I just thought it was weird.

- However, what I didn’t get: Does she know, that Criston has sent Arryk to kill Rhaenyra?! Otto must have told her, as this was key to him arguing with Aegon and getting fired. So I suppose she must know?! If so, I found her reaction rather underwhelming. I mean it is not just the fact that Rhaenyra could really get murdered now, something Alicent was actually trying to avoid - it is also that her knight opposed her and the council by acting behind their back. How can she stay this calm?!

- Her trying to tell Otto about her sin… Like she was trying to have a friend within the Red Keep and just finding out - once again - that she has none. It is sad, yet I am baffled that she still even tries with Otto. However, I guess this also was a confirmation for her that there won’t be any absolution, in form of love or just empathy, for her either.

- Alicent not being able to comfort Aegon… She looked like she felt his pain. But she is so estranged from him, he has caused her so much trouble on various levels throughout the years - she did not know what to do. Though I totally get her difficulty with Aegon, I also think she’s no better here than Otto was with her a few minutes ago. The Hightowers obviously are all really afraid of dealing with emotions.

- Criston waiting for her on her bed. Ugh… I think this was provocative and him being there was not something they had agreed on. Also the way he stared at her - it was just a huge provocation, maybe a kind of revenge for her being cold towards him before. Like his gaze was telling her: You know it, I am in charge now. Her aggression was completely reasonable and I enjoyed that part.

- However - this resulting in her looking like it just really turns her on and thus having sex with him again… Well… that was the problematic part of the episode to me. To the casual viewer with a heteronormative perception, I believe this must look like her passion for Criston is just so huge, she cannot stay mad at him, she just wants him too much. Like she finds it hot that he deceived her, ordered Rhaenyra’s assassination, became more powerful, demanding her body now by just showing up in her chambers - yea, she just throws away any thoughts about sins and does it all even more passionately again… Really, I cannot even express how much I hate this. Can’t see any sort of sexual liberation or emancipation here, sorry. I mean, what are we to think of this? That deep down in her heart she truly enjoys being dominated by men? That she really feels passion for this guy who she knows behaves like a psychopath every now and then?! I still remember her horrified look when he killed Ser Beesbury in S1Ep9. And now she just finds it all so hot? I really, really hope this is not it and we are yet to find out what this was really all about.

- But, trying to make sense of it from my Rhaenicent-point-of-view - I guess one could still argue that she uses sex for keeping Cole in control. As Otto is about to go away again, Alicent is about to be even more alone than she is already. All that there is left is Cole and he just gained power, so she has to fight even harder to keep him at bay. Giving in to his sudden power rush. Kissing him. Making him feel like it must be real passion or even a kind of love there between them. She knows how hateful he behaved after Rhaenyra had rejected him - so she probably does not want to make the same mistake.

So all in all - I guess we still have to wait and see to find out what her motivations really are. There still is hope, I guess. But I also can’t deny I am really irritated by this development and her portrayal by now.

[witheredoffherwitch]

Do you really think Alicent wouldn't care if her son gets killed? What... She defended him in the first episode, she doesn't seem to think he is some monster.

Hi nonnie,

Okay… upon looking back, I may have given a flippant answer to that previous ask lol. I want to be careful with my words here, because while I empathize with Alicent on so many levels, she is currently one of the most frustrating characters in Hotd. If you had asked me before season 2 whether Alicent prioritised her children over her duty and honour, I would have said yes without hesitation. I have always acknowledged Alicent’s struggles with motherhood (as Olivia has also pointed out in the past), but I never doubted her love for her children. However lately, I find Alicent to be a confusing mess of a character.

Now brace yourself, because what's coming up next is a scalding hot take 💀

First and foremost, it is possible to love your children and still be a bad mother. That was my understanding of Alicent in season 1. Yet, after season 2, it seems as though Alicent's role as a mother is more tied to duty than genuine maternal love. She feels responsible for her children because it is expected of her, and the show makes it blatantly clear that she has not done a good job at it. They make it so evident that Alicent lacks the natural maternal instinct that comes so effortlessly to Rhaenyra. This could be attributed to Alicent's own past as a child bride and her strained relationship with her father. A month ago, if you had asked me whether Alicent would poison Aegon in the end, I would have confidently said no. Now? I'm not so sure.

For Alicent, duty always comes first - even above love. She sees her role as queen and mother to Aegon and Aemond as her duty. Till now, her duty compelled her to stand by Aegon II because she believed she was honouring her husband's dying wish. It remains to be seen if the new conflict (post her meeting with Rhaenyra) will bring any doubts to her mind and whether her duty will outweigh her maternal responsibility. As of now, I believe the show is telling us that it would.

That's all 🤗

[vinnianlovesdinosaurs]

House of the Dragon Hot Take #6

I think it's time to voice my opinions on a few things that include both teams because I feel like in most of these posts I'm just blatantly staying neutral so here we go 😮‍💨

Joffrey Lonmouth and Vaemond Velaryon getting murdered - Both terrible injustices and a blatant display of ignorance from Daemon and Criston Cole. Neither should be celebrated or seen as "cool."

Daemon and Rhaenyra - Not a good ship at all I'm sorry. To be honest I don't think any ship involving Daemon is a good one because he's abusive, neglectful, selfish, and a pedophile.

Rhaenyra and Alicents victim-hood - Should not be compared in any way shape or form. They are both victims in their own right and they BOTH deserve better.

Blood and Cheese - I know most Team Green AND Team Black stans agree with me on this one because it was absolutely unforgivable. Daemon had an innocent child beheaded. Let's not ignore that a rape threat was used against a little girl and a distressed mother.

THE Driftmark incident - Both parties were in the wrong in their own ways here. Aemond didn't deserve to lose his eye, Lucerys didn't deserve practically having a death threat made towards him by full grown adults and his uncle who knew better than him, Rhaenyra didn't deserve to have her arm sliced open, Aegon didn't deserve to have the blame placed on him and he especially didn't deserve to be hit for it, and Alicent didn't deserve to be cast aside like that and ignored.

Laena's Funeral (Pre- Aemond becoming One-eyed) - Honestly justice for my precious girl Laena because WTF even was that mess of a funeral? Her uncle was spewing vitriol at literal children during the ceremony, her husband laughed and was practically eye-fucking his niece, and then Daemon and Rhaenyra end up fucking like three hours later?? 😭

Viserys I Targaryen - I hate this man. He was a shit father to all of his children. He was a shit husband to both of his wives. He was a shit king. He was a shit friend. He was a shit brother. A PEDOPHILE JUST LIKE HIS MF BROTHER !! AND HE'S A RAPIST !! #Viserys should have died sooner

Aegon II, Aemond, Helaena, Daeron, Rhaena, Baela, Aegon III, Viserys II, Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey - Honestly, I sympathize with every single one of these children. They were all raised in terrible environments with immature people all around them. Most of them were practically abused.

Harwin Strong - Justice for my man. He loved Rhaenyra, Larys, Lyonel, Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey with all his heart.

Laenor Velaryon - JUSTICE FOR MY MAN!!! He was ridiculed, bullied, and blatantly used almost every day of his life for who he was. His lover was murdered right in front of him, his selfish ass father refused to accept him, and he had jokes made about his sexuality while he was grieving his dead sister that he didn't get to see for 10 years.

Rhaenyra and Criston Cole - The whole fucking situation grossed me out tbh. I understand Rhaenyra was under the influence and confused from what just happened to her but she practically coerced Criston.

Aemma Arryn and Rhea Royce - Justice for my wives ASAP!! Aemma was used as a breeding mule and Rhea was murdered by her weirdo fucking husband.

The Iron Throne - In my true opinion, I do agree that Rhaenyra was the rightful heir, but in truth neither her or Aegon were good rulers in their own ways. AT ALL.

[knave-of-darkness]

Hot take?

I liked Season 2 of Hot D. And calling it AGOT Season 8 is... no? Have you seen Season 8? No? Go watch Glidus Pisstakes about Season 8 on Youtube. Yes? Do you remember it? It was a brainless mess.

Season 2 does a lot. Its setting up plots, that i know because i read the book. It also is something that i havnt seen on a show in a long time. It doesnt focus on battle, it focuses on the personal. We have the relshenship beteen Deamon and Rheanyra. We get Jace growing up and becoming more like his stepdad-uncle-fahter in law Deamon Targaryen the Rouge Prince. We get Baela which is always good. Now do i Support every decision they made? No. First out of the order i am not upset about Nettles, where is she? I guess she wont be a thing in the show. And then of course Alicent, I dont love it what they have done with her but i understand it. Why do i understand it? Well we have seen Alicent not really being into being a human baking machine. Have we ever seen her loving her children? Aegon? No, i think she might actully hate him. Aemond? Meh? maybe, but after seeing all the chaos and death he has created, i am not so sure. Heleana? Yes she loves her and does what she thinks is the best for her to protect her daughter. So while i dont love it it makes sense for her charater.

The ending, many say that is boring and doesnt do anything and this enitre season did nothing. Have you seen Season 2??? From the battle of the Burning Mill to the Battle of Rooks rest, the Death of a girl boss, Aegon being Toast, Daemon going half insane in Harrenhall, Aemond being Prince Regent, Ulf and Hugh taming Silverwing and Vermithor, SILVERWING AND VERMITOR. THE HEALTHIST COUPLE OF PLANETOS! The 2nd and 3rd biggest dragon on planetos! Nothing Happened? I guess people are upset because it didnt end with a battle. Which is just... sigh.

Another point that i read was that season 2 ends like season 1 and no? It really doesnt Rheanyra is about to win. Who is there to oppse her right now? Aemond with Vhaegar, and Daeron with Tessarion who both (Daeron and his dragon) never have seen battle. So really in a dragon battle it would be Grandma Vheagar and teen Tessarion, against Grandpa Vermithor, Grandma Silverwing, Syrax, Caraxes, and Vermax. I am not counting Baela or the others dragon because of their size. Rhaenyra is at the edge of winning the war without loosing any more man. The thing she and Rheanys always wanted.

I could go on and on, about Corlys and so many other things but i think my point has come across.

Season 8 of game of thrones was bad because no one cared about it anymore, Season 2 is still ok because there are obviously people in the writers room who care... all we can hope for now is that they stay as loyal to the book as they can and that they continue to care.

[rufflesandbows]

How They React: to you patching them up

You notice someone close to you has been injured. Perhaps without their knowledge, or they tried to hide it from you, knowing you would worry. Whether they fight your assistance or welcome your care, you pull them aside and right their wounds.

Characters: -Daemon, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Harwin, Rhaenyra, Baela- -Aemond, Aegon, Criston Cole, Larys, Alicent, Helaena-

Blacks

Daemon He’d fuss at you to leave him alone, at first. It’s a small cut, comparatively to what he’s had before. So he’s leaking blood all over the floor. So it’s soaked through the (not well applied) bandage. Daemon simmers down when you grip him and force his hand on your lap, your touch abruptly softening as you begin to clean him up, chiding him all the while. But he’s not quite listening; he’s watching you. When it’s done, he starts teasing you mercilessly. What, do you care about him or something?

Jacaerys Genuinely didn’t notice he was wounded. You point it out and he gives a “Oh, would you look at that!” You drag him off and he seems almost bewildered before you start patching up the cut. The air gets quiet, and the light blush in his face grows a shade darker the more you touch him. When you glance at him, he gives you a shy smile and his fingers curl to touch you back. He’s having a hard time facing you directly. You just look so beautiful under the sun. 

Lucerys He tried to hide it but he’s the worst liar you’ve ever met. You demand he show you and bashfully, he pulls his hand from behind his back, looking at you like a guilty pup. It amuses you, not teasing him though it would be easy to. Instead you lead him aside and patch him up. Listening to him, huffy but proud as he defends himself on why he shouldn’t have gotten wounded at all. You listen intently, smiling and nodding as you work. When it’s done, he knows how ridiculous he sounded, politely thanking you.

Harwin Teases you endlessly. You’re a flustered mess trying to patch him up. He’s not fighting you or making it physically difficult, but he’s calling you out that you care about him and, well, yeah. But he doesn’t have to make it sound like you’re stumbling over your own feet in his presence (which you sometimes are). You are a professional. You can patch up a small cut, even though your hands are shaking you're so damn flustered.

Rhaenyra She tries to laugh it off. You can tell just by the look on her face she wants to tease you for insisting on cleaning it up. However that want fades quickly. She admires your focus, as well as the feel of your hands gently but firmly holding her and inspecting the area. She watches you, you know she is but you try to remain on task before she throws a cheeky remark your way. Chuckling at your clearly flustered response.   Baela Much like her father, she’s annoyed you’re worrying so much, until she locks eyes with you. It’s so clear that it matters to you that she’s hurt. It makes her cheeks hot, all her annoyance simmering down quick as she nods and allows you to lead her. She’s insistent that it’s nothing to worry about, though now a bit more shy in her approach. She appreciates how gentle you are with her, admiring your skill as well. By the end she can’t stop smiling and doesn’t know why.

Greens

Aemond Is never going to tell you he’s been wounded in any way. You’ll have to spot it for yourself and even then, he’ll try to shrug it off and claim it doesn’t hurt. But on your insistence, he’ll cave and follow where you lead, impatiently allowing you to fix him up. Overtime, he gets comfortable with the idea. Looks forward to it even. He’ll ask you for little things. Rubbing sore muscles or ointments in over the bruises and burns he gets from training and riding Vhagar. Checking in with you becomes apart of his everyday, even when he doesn’t need anything.

Aegon He is always getting into brawls in Flea Bottom. Often coming home with cuts and bruises and scrapes. It’s become routine that the start of your day is cleaning up these wounds because he won’t do it himself. Yet the entire time, he appears like he’s being endlessly pampered on. Smiling and obedient as you gently clean the area and bandage him. You since gave up chiding him, now you simply ask what happened. Sometimes he has a wild tale, sometimes he can’t remember, but most of the time is spent with him quietly savoring your touch.

Criston Cole Tells you not to worry about it, but the moment your hand touches him, he freezes. He can’t say a thing and leaves you to lead him. He doesn’t resist, but you’re gentle because you can feel the tension in him. His eyes scan around for others as you clean and patch up the cut. Neither of you say anything, and you smile at him when you’re finished. You can practically feel his heart racing in the look he give you. Before it’s shuffled away and he quickly leaves your presence, forgetting to thank you until later. 

Larys He was keen to keep it to himself. He was used to keeping quiet when it came to pain. But you caught him and asked about it, worried about the light swelling around the cut. He smiles and tell you it’s nothing. However you do have everything nearby, so you offer to clean and patch it up for him. He opens his mouth to refuse, but stops, before quietly nodding. Larys is almost mystified by your work, making your face heat with his focused attention. Mistaking it for discomfort, he strikes up conversation, it lasting long after you’ve finished.

Alicent It isn’t often the Queen finds herself physically wounded, but shes always so distracted that she never notices. It shocks you to see a cut on her, rushing to her aid. She’s just as surprised, assuring you it must have been an accident from earlier. You want to fix it immediately, but you have to ask first. She looks at you with confusion, it’s not even bleeding anymore, before softly agreeing. She’s almost too shy to look at you as you work, but she can’t stop stealing glances, feeling a heat in her at your gentle and careful touch.

Helaena Blood quickly drips down her finger and she can’t take her eyes from it, until you wrap her hand in a cloth. A big wave of relief washes over her and she sits with your lead. You handle everything and Helaena continues her conversation without pause, trying to expel the nervous energy. She blushes and apologizes for rambling, but you smile and assure her you enjoy hearing all the things she knows. Every time she looks at the cut now, she thinks of you, long after it's healed, and a smile graces her lips.