#daemond x you

[helaelaemond]

The Princes and I - Daemon/Aemond/Reader

Pairing:  Daemon x Aemond x she/her AFAB reader

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Daemon is an old lover of yours. He invites you to spend some time with him and his new lover, his nephew Prince Aemond.

Content warning(s): canon-typical incest (uncle/nephew), brief mentions of brother/sister incest, brief mentions of uncle/niece incest

INCLUDES: oral (m receiving, f receiving), fingering (m receiving, f receiving), breast worship, vaginal sex (f receiving), anal sex (m receiving). Top!Aemond, bottom!Daemon

Masterlist

With a smile, Daemon opened the door to his chambers. He was flushed under the collar and his ears were red and he was happy, and the sight of you in his doorway almost made him laugh in delight. 

“My lady,” he greeted you fondly. He let go of Aemond’s hand so that he could take both of yours and kiss your cheek. You so warm. 

“My prince,” you replied with a sly smile. “I do hope I am not disturbing you.” 

“Certainly not.” He pulled back only slightly, and couldn’t stop himself from pulling you closer by the waist. “Thank you for joining us.” 

For a moment, you closed your eyes and tilted your chin up until your nose brushed his, and your smile was one of satisfaction. “Thank you for inviting me.” 

It was you who broke the touch first. With your hands in his, fingers stroking the worn skin around his knuckles, you pulled back to look at Aemond by his side. Your smile did not fade. When your gazes met, his cheeks turned pink. 

“Nephew, this is an old friend of mine. My lady, this is Aemond.” 

Despite trying to comb his hair back in some semblance of dignity since Daemon had grasped it, some had fallen across Aemond’s eyes. He touched the sleeve of his tunic and blinked. The sapphire in place of a missing eye glinted in the firelight “It is an honour to meet you, my lady.” 

“The honour is mine, my prince. I have wished to meet you for many years.” As introductions were made, Daemon gently tugged on your hands to bring you into the chambers, and the guards outside closed the doors. You were alone, shut away from the world. You would have peace. 

He made a fuss of you, unclasping the velvet cloak from your throat to reveal the soft dress beneath. Daemon thought of you when he smelled lavender, and you wore the scent now. And the colour. After setting your cloak on a table close to the door, he drank in the sight of you. The purple dress was almost sheer, soft and light and floating about you like a spring breeze. Your arms and shoulders were bare and on your skin, constellations of freckles splashed from head to toe. The slits of the dress were as high as your waist, allowing him glimpses of your strong thighs. The neckline was plunging and about your neck, you wore a sparkling gem set into silver. 

Aemond wore the dragon pin Daemon had procured him. You wore the eagle pendant he had bought. He bit his lip as he looked between you, trying not to grin. 

“You are most kind,” Aemond said stiffly. His lips had gone thin and pale as his uncle had revealed more of your skin, run his hands over you in light touches. You watched as he bit the inside of his cheek.  

“I hear many great tales of you,” you mused with a gentle laugh. Your hair shifted like starlight as your head moved to the side. “By all rights, you ought to be a knight. Or perhaps the heir to a king.” 

“Don’t forget yourself,” Daemon chided you. Softening his words, though, he ran his knuckles up your arm and to the chain around your neck. He touched the old gift, before ghosting his fingers in remembrance of how he used to choke you. 

Turning to look at him, mere inches from your face, you licked your lips and smiled. “I do not forget myself, my prince. I am merely humbled to be before two such great men. Two Targaryens, gods among men." 

Daemon snorted. "I never much appreciated the honey on your tongue. But how skilled you are with it when you do not speak."

"You wound me," you replied with a raised brow, scarcely able to hide your grin. "And you lie. If you truly believed what you say, you would have tired of me many seasons ago. But still, after all these years, you call me to your side."

He couldn't resist kissing you deeply then. The intensity of it took your breath away - his fingers clutched the silver around your neck and yanked you closer, while his tongue pressed hungrily to the inside of your teeth. "You're not my only friend now," he grunted between kisses. "Are you going to be my nephew's friend, too?"

After a long moment, you pushed Daemon away with heavily lidded eyes. You glanced over at the young prince, and held out your hand. He took it hesitantly. “Any friend of my prince's is a friend of mine, Aemond. I think you quite dear to him, and I’m glad to finally make your acquaintance.” 

His shoulders visibly relaxed as the introductions began to shed their formalities, and he echoed the words back to you. He offered you wine and you accepted. Daemon watched you interact so easily and quickly. He watched how Aemond raked his eyes over you, and saw the tell-tale signs of how much he was beginning to enjoy you. Liked looking at you. Being near you. It mingled with the lust still rushing through his veins. 

The evening was slipping into night. Outside, though, it was still warm and the clear sky twinkled with a hundred thousand stars. Daemon followed his lovers, past and present, out onto the balcony and took with him a goblet of wine. On the wide patio were soft sofas and deep chairs and you and Aemond had chosen to sit opposite each other. He took a chair, and you took a sofa. Daemon leaned over Aemond and kissed him long and slow before settling on the sofa next to you. From the way he shifted in the chair, Daemon knew it had done nothing to soften Aemond’s desire. He watched him as he took a sip of wine, imagining him riding his cock on this very sofa. 

But then he looked at you whose gaze was on the stars, and Aemond was replaced with you. How pretty you used to look atop him, riding him and taking your pleasure from him however you liked. You were such a bright soul; it made it all the more enjoyable to see you enjoy yourself with him however you liked. He got to see a side of you that few others did. 

His robes were soft and did not hide his desire. When you looked at him, it did not escape your notice. The corner of your lips twitched but you didn’t remark upon it. Given your state of dress, you had come to his rooms with your own expectations. 

“Aemond,” you said, tearing your eyes away from the hungry gaze of Daemon, “won’t you tell me the tale of how you came to Dragonstone? There are many rumours as to why - I am curious of the truth.”

Aemond leaned back in his chair and told the tale of his assignment to Dragonstone following the death of Viserys to keep the peace. You listened curiously. When it came to the matter of him essentially being held hostage, he looked to Daemon for reassurance. Settled comfortably back in cushions and enjoying the sound of his lover’s voice, Daemon had nodded slightly. You were discreet and trustworthy. 

“How curious,” you remarked with interest after a while. “There were many who assumed your brother would take up arms against the Queen.” 

Daemon smirked. “It is astounding what loyalty a few nights in my bed can inspire, isn't it, nephew?” 

On the chair across from you, Aemond blushed deeply. 

“And how did it come to be that you… found one another?” 

“The queen introduced us. She, ah…” Daemon hesitated, and glanced over at Aemond. He inclined his head once, granting permission. “Would you really like to know?” 

Smiling, you nodded. 

Daemon moved closer on the sofa to you until he was almost behind you. Aemond’s gaze burned into you as he ghosted his lips across your shoulder. He left a whispering kiss on your neck and breathed against your ear. “I found him in Rhaenyra’s lap, full of the queen's fingers and cock untouched, almost mewling. He looked so pretty, so wanton. I couldn’t refuse when he almost begged for me.” 

Your eyes closed. Your hand grasped his thigh, air suddenly stolen from your lungs. “Is that so?” 

“You should see him, my lady. He is so perfect when he is given what he needs.” 

“I’m sure.” 

“What do you need?” 

Pulling away slightly, you looked back at him. “More than a few pretty words.” 

Daemon knew how to work you. Soft conversations, kind words, compliments, gentle touches. They filled the evening with them. Aemond stayed where he was, content to watch for now. He was a quick learner. 

“My prince,” you moaned softly. Daemon had stripped you bare and laid you on his bed and settled between your legs. How he had missed it here! His mouth found its place on your breast and he teased your nipple with his teeth and tongue. You never tired of the attention; you loved it. You sighed and scraped your nails over his scalp. Silver hair slipped through your fingers. “Yes.” 

Aemond hesitated at the foot of the bed. He wanted to watch, but he wanted to feel, too. Something about seeing your neck arch and thighs tremble just from the attention on your nipple had him leaking through his breeches, though, and just a touch of your speckled skin would be too much. 

Daemon sucked harder and teased your other nipple between long fingers. He pressed his knee hard between your legs and you swore. Immediately you found a rhythm against his knee and thigh and as he lavished attention on your chest, you chased your first orgasm. 

Aemond watched as you threw your head back and the intensity overtook you. Your whole body writhed and your legs shook and you pressed Daemon’s face tighter against you. Before you had the chance to come back down, he slid down your body and buried his mouth between your thighs. 

Aemond let out a soft and strained noise. He couldn’t see his lover’s lips against their guest but he could taste you in your mind. He could imagine how slick you were against Daemon’s chin and how your clit throbbed against his tongue. You grasped your breasts and pressed your nipples between your fingers in an echo of Daemon’s ministrations. You came quickly a second time. 

After, Daemon kissed your mouth and let you taste yourself on him. It made you laugh, made you wrap your arms around his neck. He stroked your cheek and whispered something soft to you. You nodded and kissed him one more time before letting him go. 

“Aemond,” he called out smugly. “Come to me, my prince.” 

It was strange, but Aemond didn't much mind the sarcastic tone his uncle had whenever he used his title.

You had stripped Aemond of his tunic but he had stopped you before you could unlace his trousers. He did not want you to think he would demand something of you that you weren't willing to give. But now he was half-mad with the need for both of you. For his uncle, for his lady. He heeded Daemon’s call. 

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Daemon murmured as he got up from the bed. He wore nothing but a smile and he took Aemond’s sharp face into his hands. 

“Yes,” came the whispered reply. 

“Do you want her?” 

He looked at you with glittering eyes. He could cry for how badly he did. But you were here for Daemon, not him. “How could anyone not?” 

“Taste her, nephew.” 

Your hair was fanned out around your head and shifted between starlit hues. You looked over at him with longing but asked nothing of him. He was here for Daemon, not you. 

“I would taste you, uncle.” He flushed when he whispered it. “Please?” 

The way they kept calling each other uncle and nephew was filthy. It made your cunt throb.

The kiss Daemon gave him was deep and needy. Aemond sucked on his tongue and bit his lip and sank to his knees. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as he took Daemon into his mouth with devotion in his eye that was absolute. Daemon dropped his head back and groaned. His fingers roughly grasped Aemond’s hair. Purple eye closed; blue sparkled. 

Without taking your eyes off the couple, you got up from the bed and took your place behind Daemon. His strong body was so familiar to you and as Aemond worshipped his cock, you touched every part of him that you could reach. Oil had been on the edge of the bed and without needing to think, you slicked three fingers and slipped two against his entrance. You kissed the seam between his shoulder and neck and he nodded, eyes closed. 

“Go on,” he demanded of you. Without needing to be told again, you pressed inside of him. He was so warm and tight about your fingers and you buried them to the knuckle. Every time he clenched thanks to Aemond’s ministrations, you smiled against his skin. 

It was impossible to see where Aemond had him in his mouth, but the noises were obscene. Wet and slippery and mingled with moans from both of them, grunts from Daemon and hums from Aemond, you nearly came from the sounds alone. But you held on. 

Daemon’s orgasm swept through him with a warning to his lovers. Aemond swallowed him greedily. He needed barely a moment to catch his breath before he stood up and kissed Daemon deeply. You peeked over his shoulder to watch them. It seemed as if Aemond had grown half a foot since the evening had begun. His confidence turned him to a giant. 

When the kisses, hot and needy and desperate, ended, you gently pulled your fingers from his body and felt eyes watching you. Aemond was so close now, you could see every fleck of starlight in his eye. The depths of it made you curious and you blinked. He blushed again. 

“Aemond,” you whispered. His lips parted as if the air had been knocked from him, as if the world had stopped. 

“Isn’t he a wonder?” Daemon said with satisfaction. Aemond’s gaze darted to him and softened, and he welcomed another kiss greedily. Slender fingers ran up Daemonr’s back and into his hair. You watched with fire in your belly, between your legs. 

When you stepped back towards the bed, Daemon stopped you. He turned and grasped your hand and pulled you to them so you all shared an embrace. The air between you was thick and all you could think of was how your skin was pressed against Aemond’s pretty chest, his strong stomach. Hesitant hands almost traced the curved planes of his muscles, but instead, they found their place on Daemon, familiar Daemon, demanding Daemon. 

“You look so beautiful when you come,” you told him. “I missed the noises you make.” 

He laughed and leaned down and kissed you. You could almost taste Aemond on him. You smiled against his mouth. Your hand traced down his stomach between his legs and found him half hard again. 

“I want you inside me, my prince.” 

“How much do you want me inside you?” 

You took his hand and pressed it against your cunt and he slipped his fingers between your swollen lips. You bit your lip. “I am aching for you.” 

A noise came from the back of his throat. “Bend over the bed. I would like to have you while Aemond has me.” 

You looked up with a smug grin. "You like him having you?"

Daemon gave Aemond an appreciative squeeze between his legs. "You would not believe how well his cock fills me up."

Aemond kissed his neck and sucked until Daemon had lost nearly all thought. He would be marked by morning. 

You took the hand that was not around Aemond's cock and led Daemon back to the bed. “I would look upon your face.” You lay back and spread your legs for him. 

His mouth watered to see you flushed red and spread wide for him, so slick and needy. He nodded and took his cock in hand. It slid through your folds and he pressed the head to grind across your clit and your eyes rolled back. You murmured words of encouragement before shifting your hips up in a silent beg for him to slip inside of you. 

The moment he pressed forward, he felt Aemond line up behind him. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind and fingers splayed across his chest. Aemond was dripping with seed and oil and with Daemon's hole already smooth from your ministrations, he was more than ready. The delight of your pressure welcomed him when he moved forward, and Aemond’s hardness stimulated him when he pressed back. 

You moved slowly at first to find their rhythm. Daemon moaned the name of both of his lovers. 

Then you begged to be fucked. Aemond thought of fucking you. Daemon thought of being fucked by both of you. Aemond was the first to change the pace. He slammed into Daemon and felt how his uncle clenched around him. He did it again, and again, and again, until it was a brutal rhythm that had you all panting, your groans mingling, names spilling from lips in a haze of delight and lust. 

“Aemond,” you begged. You were getting close. You reached blindly for his hand and found it on Daemon's back and your fingers laced together. 

Daemon’s hand ground against your clit and he leaned down to bite your nipple and suck your sensitive ear. When his head was pressed against your neck, you caught Aemond’s gaze. You held it when you came with high moans and hoarse shouts. You raked your nails down Daemon’s back who quickly followed. Aemond let himself go on Daemon’s back with Daemon’s hand grasping back against his thigh.

After, Aemond stumbled to fetch water and cloths before collapsing in sated sleepiness onto the bed. You and Daemon, satisfied and floating, cleaned one another and he gently wiped Aemond. Aemond shuffled up the bed and slipped under the covers and with Aemond at his side, he drifted off to sleep. 

“He really is quite beautiful,” you whispered after a time. “Does he always sleep in your bed?” 

Daemon smirked. "When he pleases me."

"And how often is that?"

"Most nights."

"What of the queen?"

"She likes to join us sometimes. Sometimes, she brings Aegon. A pathetic little thing, really, but so obedient." He kissed you and sucked on your lower lip until it made you moan. "You would enjoy him."

You grinned. "There are only so many Targaryens I can handle at once. I think two is my limit." You watched as Daemon's gaze turned to his sleeping nephew. A man grown, he was, but there was something innocent in the peace that had relaxed his scarred face as he slept.

It did not escape your notice how tenderly Daemon looked down at him. It was an expression you had not often seen him wear. Perhaps Aemond was more than just his play-thing. Carefully, so as not to disturb the young prince, you got up and began to pull your clothes back on.

“Where are you going?” Daemon asked somewhat indignantly.

“I thought you might prefer some privacy.” 

“Don't be ridiculous." He pulled back the bedsheets at the other side of Aemond. "Get in. Stay."

"Are you certain?"

He rolled his eyes. "Get in."

"And in the morning?"

"I'm going to watch him fuck you until you cry."

You looked over at Daemon with a raised brow. "Is that so?"

"It certainly is. Now, go to sleep. You will need your strength."

Resting your head on the soft pillow, you looked directly in front of you. Aemond lay sleeping between the two of you, and you could see every line, every eyelash, every freckle on his face. You blushed and buried your head into his hair as you tried to sleep. The thought of what was to come with the dawn kept you awake for a long time, though.

[sapphireis]

Dark/Yan Daemon HCs

ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: DARK CONTENT, 18+ (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DON’T INTERACT), Bad English, Toxic Relationship, Implied AFAB Reader (talk about pregnancy and stuff in a part, but for the rest pretty GN), Jealousy, Manipulation, Implied Murder, Implied Kidnapping?, Daemon, OOC?, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! ➳ Characters: Daemon Targaryen

⤠ Dark/Yan Aemond HCs ⤟ Masterlist (soon!) ⤠ I'd do anything for you, Mrs. Highness (Aemond) ⤟

This was requested by my bestie @kredpoison because she LOOVEESSS daemon, while i can't lmfao so sorry if those are short and bad, I literally have no ideas about this man other than i want him out of my life /j

... Yikes.

If normal Daemon is already A L O T to take care imagine dark!Daemon who is so obsessed with you that he can't fully function

It also makes him angry how obsessed he is with you, not that he cares if it is right or wrong, but mostly because he wants to do other things but you are constantly on his mind he can't do it. Not when you are free to do as you wish

We all know how he is. Obsessive. Possessive. Mean. Violent. Just because his heart beats for you doesn't mean you will be spared from his atrocities

Daemon wouldn't hurt you. Not physically at least, mentally? He's always reminding you to who do you belong to constantly, manipulating you into believing that without him you are nothing, that you need him even to breathe.

Like Aemond he is always with you. Watching, following, observing you especially when you aren't married yet or haven't taken you in to go on this many adventures. Cause he will bring you too! Daemon wouldn't want you to be lonely without him.

Or to possibly try to escape him, why would you when he has a ferocious dragon on his side? He will follow you to the end of this world if he has to, you have nowhere to hide.

Once you are his you are forever bound to be his- Daemon doesn't care how he has to get you or if you are already married, we all can imagine the fate of your spouse once he found out...

Either that or he will ruin your reputation completely like he tried to do to Rhaenyra so that you have no choice but marrying him, even if you try to explain what really happened.

He doesn't treat you so badly, you just have to get used to him. But if you are good he wouldnt manipulate you, he will even let you get near his dragon and see him actually happy and content.

Of course, just like Aemond, he will make you pregnant as soon as possible. Its not like he actually cares about having children, but more so his possessive side its content because you have the proof that you are his forever; a little babe that looks like the both of you

This work belongs to @/sapphireis, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL TALKING ABOUT AEMOND TARGARYEN IN EPISODE 3 FOR VULTURE MAGAZINE.

I CAN'T REMEMBER THE EXACT WORDING, BUT I REMEMBER SEEING SOMEONE POST A GIF OF PRINCE AEMOND'S SAPPHIRE-EYEBALL REVEAL AND SAYING, ‘THIS IS THE MOST ANIME-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER WHO HAS EVER APPEARED ON A LIVE-ACTION TELEVISION SHOW.’ THERE'S AN OTHERWORDLY AIR TO HIM.

“So much of the work is done through the costume and the long hair and the eyepatch — because of the talents of makeup designer Amanda Knight and our costume designer, Caroline McCall.”

“By taking one look, you can make a rough assumption that he’s probably going to be the bad guy.”

“But for me, bringing that otherworldly texture to Aemond, I never watched Game of Thrones, because I wanted to present something fresh.”

“I drew on other aspects of pop culture, with ’80s horror icons like Michael Myers: a character who walks so slow but always catches up to Jamie Lee Curtis.”

“Aemond hijacks the show and turns it into a horror sequence in the skies above Storm’s End at the end of episode ten of season one.”

“It’s this idea of inevitability, something more like an energy as opposed to an actual human being.”

“That’s the image Aemond wants to co-opt, that he’s godlike. He operates on a different plane.”

“It comes from that cold exterior he’s cultivated over the years, down to the sapphire stone in his eye socket. You don’t know what is going on behind his eye.”

THERE REALLY IS SOMETHING VERY "FINAL FANTASY VILLAIN" ABOUT HIM: ELEGANT BUT FIGHTENING.

“You don’t know what he’s thinking.”

“People who sit back and smile, don’t say much — they’re the people whose brains you want to pick, but at the same time, you don’t know where you stand.”

MY FAVORITE AEMOND MOMENTS ARE WHEN YOU DO GLIMPSE HOW HE FEELS. IN THAT CHASE SEQUENCE ABOVE STORM'S END, AEMOND IS REALLY UPSET WHEN HIS DRAGON KILLS LUCERYS VELARYON. IN THIS SEASON, HE TALKS TO THE SEX WORKER HE'S BEEN SEING ABOUT HOW IT GOT TO HIM.

“I agree. Between episodes seven and eight of season one, he’s manufactured himself into a weapon.”

“He possesses this code that stops him from ever being hurt again, like he was as a kid.”

“He has to be seen as this bulletproof, untouchable, ethereal presence no one can grasp.”

HE BRINGS UP HIS CHILDHOOD IN THE BROTHEL, TOO — HOW HIS BROTHER AND HIS YOUNG UNCLES USED TO PICK ON HIN FOR BEING DIFFERENT. IS ALL THAT IN THE BACK OF YOUR MIND EVEN WHEN YOU'RE DOING THE COOL, SAPPHIRE-EYE STUFF?

“Yeah. It’s partly down to seeing the young Aemond actor, Leo Ashton, in episodes six and seven of season one: the boy underneath the veneer.”

“This kid was bullied day in and day out for not having a dragon egg like the rest of the kids in the family. He recognized very early on that he was going to have to go out and get what he wanted.”

“I always carried that around with me in season two.”

“So he ended up claiming the largest, baddest, oldest dragon in the known world in Vhagar. She’s so enormous, she can’t fit within the confines of any castle wall. Aemond is able to identify with that.”

HOW SO? THE BULLYING DIDN'T MAKE HIM FEEL SMALLER?

“It’s the story of the underdog. I have this theory that it’s not so much the person who claims the dragon, it’s the dragon who claims the person as well.”

“I don’t believe Vhagar is someone you just stumble upon.”

“Although Aemond had to seek her out, she must have seen something in him that he himself hadn’t seen yet.”

“Aemond’s the kid who held on. When he realized he wouldn’t get a dragon egg like the rest of the kids, he held on.”

“When he was bullied for being different, for not having a dragon of his own, he held on. And when Vhagar took off over the beaches of Driftmark in episode seven, he held on tighter than he’d ever done before.”

“I don’t know if any of the other characters would have held on as strongly, because they were gifted dragons when they were kids.”

“It’s a tremendous feat of courage to approach Vhagar.”

“That’s one of Aemond’s redeeming qualities: He possesses a drive.”

“Maybe that kid is still underneath that manufactured exterior.”

I WAS HONESTLY SURPRISED TO FIND AEGON AND HIS BUDDIES STILL BULLYING AEMOND DURING THE BROTHEL SCENE IN THIS EPISODE. HISTORICALLY, BULLYING AEMOND HAS NOT WORKED OUT VERY WELL FOR PEOPLE.

“Aegon catches Aemond in a vulnerable spot.”

“Picking up the script for the first time and seeing those brothel scenes in episode two and three, I saw a brilliant opportunity to offer a rare glimpse of his vulnerability.”

“You only ever see him in his Targaryen blacks, so to see him in that world — not only that, but then humiliated by his brother — is quite shocking.”

WHEN HE GETS UP AND WALKS OUT WITHOUT BOTHERING TO DRESS FIRST, SO SURE OF HIMSELF EVEN IN THE FACE OF THAT HUMILIATION, HE SEEMS SCARIER TO ME THAN WHEN HE'S RIDING ON VHAGAR.

I love that line from Michael Mann’s Heat, when Bob De Niro’s character says, “Don’t let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner.”

“That’s the code his character utilizes so he’s able to maneuver around this world without getting caught by Al Pacino.”

“Aemond has a similar code that stops him from being hurt like he was as a kid.”

“That’s why he’s able to walk out on the madam in that scene.”

“He’s humiliated by his brother and all his crew, and it’s like this switch flips. The madam is no more.”

“All of these people in front of him? They mean nothing. He stands up, he owns it — Yeah, I’m bulletproof. Anything you say, it will not work. Like you say, it’s scary.”

A LOT OF COMPARISIONS ARE MADE BETWEEN AEMOND AND DAEMON, BUT THAT'S A BIG DIFFERENCE: DAEMON GETS INTENSELY ATTACHED, WHETHER TO HIS LATE BROTHER KING VISERYS OR TO HIS NIECE AND WIFE QUEEN RHAENYRA. WE'RE SEEN HIM LEAVE DIFFICULT SITUATIONS, BUT HE STORMS OUT, HE DOESN'T GLIDE OUT. THAT'S AEMOND.

“One hundred percent. You rarely see him lose his cool.”

“As soon as you start raising your voice and shouting, you lose the power.”

“It’s not to say Aemond isn’t as angry as everyone else behind the smile. He probably is. But he’s able to keep a lid on it and channel it in different ways.”

IT'S ALSO A NUDE SCENE, AND I HAVE A FEELING YOU'RE ABOUT TO GET A REACTION AT A VOLUME FEW PEOPLE ON THIS SHOW HAVE SEEN BEFORE. DID YOU HAVE THAT IN MIND WHILE SHOOTING IT?

Mitchell says that the dragon-rider’s display, a topic of much discussion between himself and the creative team prior to filming, was a move ‘encoded in Aemond’s DNA’ — a shock tactic designed to demonstrate that this once-bullied boy will never allow himself to be chastened again.

“Scenes like this start with a conversation about how far you’re prepared to go. It wasn’t a choice we made lightly.”

“But it’s true to Aemond that he shocks the audience.”

“Weakness is not part of Aemond’s vocabulary.”

[theobjectofyourire]

I'm baaaaccckkkk!!! and just in time for the one year anniversary of this blog :')

it's been a minute and honestly a rough one, but summer is soon ending which marks my return to the land of the living (I thrive most in autumn and winter; in warmth, I utterly decay) and the HotD obsession has returned with an insatiable fervour.

I'm still an absurdly slow writer but I am working on the fics once again! we're in hardcore daemond mode so I hope to have something for you sometime soonish. the current work in progress is sitting pretty at 3.4k and we aren't even halfway done, so it'll be a bit of a feast, one which you lovely patient people are certainly well deserving of 😭

in the meantime, feel free to dive into my latest daemond playlist - the brainrot is real. they make me so impossibly happy. I hope you enjoy and am so glad to be back :')

[helaenasaegon]

Because he’s a horny little freak. Why are you asking questions that have obvious answers? 🤨

[rhaenyra-daemon]

Aemond wouldn't dare to utter the words, burrowing into his lover's warmth, but Daemon heard them unspoken all the same:

"You're mine. Mine. Mine."

Title: blood of my blood

Rating: M

Length: 1980 words

Tags: father/son incest, dubious consent due to identity issues, guilt

Read here.

[irisposts]

Bloodlines

summary | daemond needs to marry and you're at the top of his list.

pairing | daemond targaryen x (f)cousin!reader

wordcount | 1k

warnings | 18+, MINORS DNI!, very light smut

edited.

You never expected your cousin to be here with you on your island of Valyria, much less dining at your table and feasting on your food. You watch as he takes another forkful, his plate nearly empty. He wipes his mouth with a cloth.

You barely touch your meal. The room feels small and intimate despite its grandeur. Heavy stone walls adorned with ancient Valyrian tapestries tell tales of dragons and conquest. While a large chandelier made of dragon bone casts a warm, golden glow across the table. The open doors allow a gentle breeze to drift in from the beach, the sound of waves crashing against the shore tightening the knot in your stomach.

You glance back at Daemon. He hasn’t changed much, though his silver-white hair is now cut short. The last time you saw him, it had fallen past his shoulders, but you find yourself liking this look more. It frames his sharp features, and the dangerous glint in his eyes.

Daemon is dressed in deep, shadowy leathers, perfectly tailored to his lean form. You watch the silver clasps and embroidered dragons shimmer subtly in the low light.

Your own attire feels too revealing under his gaze. The soft, flowing fabric of your gown clings to you, draping in ways that accentuate every curve. Deep hues of blue and green—house colors—wrap around you like a second skin. The slight chill of the evening makes your exposed shoulders prickle beneath his watchful eyes.

“Is there something on your mind?” Daemon’s voice cuts through the air. Casual as he leans back in his chair, swirling his wine. “Cousin?”

You push your plate outward. Your attendant immediately steps forward to clear it.

“Leave us,” you command, your voice steady. The servant quickly departs, leaving only the two of you.

You tilt your head, studying him for a moment, memories swirling. “It’s been quite some time since I last saw you.”

“Three, four years,” he replies with a lazy shrug, “give or take.”

You look away, a warmth growing across your cheeks. “Hm.” You lean back slightly, your fingers brushing against the smooth wood of the table. “You haven’t changed at all.”

Daemon’s eyes sharpen, trailing over you in a way that makes the air you breathe feel heavier. “You have.”

A heavy silence settles in. The moment stretching out as his gaze lingers over you. 

“All grown up now,” he muses, his voice low, almost teasing. He takes another sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving yours.

You chew your lip for a moment, holding back your retort. “You didn’t come here just to visit after four years. A Valyrian steel dagger, no less. A fine gift, even for you.”

Daemon chuckles, the sound rich. “Can’t a man visit his family without suspicion?”

“You?” You raise an eyebrow, the corners of your lips pulling into a wry smile. “Never.”

His amusement deepens as he stands, his movements fluid, every step deliberate. He paces slowly around the table, fingers gliding across its surface. As he walks, his gaze briefly flicks upward to the ceiling. There lingering, is a painting of Valaryian lovers entwined beneath dragon wings.

“You always did see through the masks people wear. I admired that about you.”

He stops in front of you, his hand lifting as if to touch your chin, but you tilt your head away.

Your voice is steady as you speak. “What do you want, Daemon?”

He lowers his hand, though the smile doesn’t fade. “I must marry.”

A small grin tugs at your lips. “I’ve heard the rumors about you and Rhaenyra. If they’re true, why not her?”

Daemon’s smirk widens, amusement flickering in his eyes as he looks back at the ceiling. “Rumors,” he says softly, “are often more fun than the truth.”

His eyes lock onto yours, sharper now. “But you and I both know what strengthens Valyria.”

“Keeping the bloodline pure?” you offer, your voice firm but tinged with curiosity.

His silence answers you.

“Hm.” The sound escapes your lips as you push your chair back and rise. Standing so close, you feel the heat radiating from him, his breath fanning your face. 

Your hand presses against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath his armor-like clothing. His hand finds your waist, gripping you with a possessive firmness. “What if I have eyes for another?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper-- the challenge clear.

Daemon’s dark chuckle sends shivers down your spine as he leans in close, his breath brushing against your ear. “Vezof rȳbagon skoros iā rūmu zirȳ rōvon,” he whispers in Valyrian, his voice like silk and steel combined.

Don’t forget what I did to you four years ago.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips almost touching yours, his eyes burning with the same fire you’ve tried to suppress for years.

Your heart pounds as you feel the weight of his words. You remember how he deflowered you—rocking into you like a piston, kissing your lips, biting at your skin—setting your body on fire. The memory fades.

You meet his gaze head-on, your lips parting as you murmur in Valyrian, “Nyke gīmigon lo ao gīmigon…”

I could never forget.

His eyes darken, the grip on your waist tightening. Daemon’s other hand finds the curve of your neck, his touch slow and deliberate, gliding down to the material of your sleeve. With a smooth motion, he slides it off your shoulder, your bare skin to the cool air.

Your eyes flicker from his lips back to his intense gaze, the air between you electric. You feel the steady rhythm between your thighs quicken as his fingers slide down from your chest. Daemon hitches up the material of your gown. His fingers make their way between your thighs. The pads of his fingertips brush against you and you fall forward onto his shoulder. 

You breathe harshly. His fingers are cool and should be foreign. But the way they sink into you, you know it’s all too familiar. You let out a moan as he stills.

The hand on your waist moves up to your shoulder and then to your chin. He holds you, bringing your face to look at him.

“Nyke jaelā ao.” 

I want you.

You let out a soft moan as his fingers spread inside you.  “Ērīninna nyke.” 

Then take me.

Without hesitation, he closes the distance. His lips capture yours in a kiss that ignites every spark between you, consuming you both in a fire that’s been smoldering for far too long.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hiii there!

I wanted to request an oscar tully x targaryen reader maybe rhaenyras daughter please.. tbh i dont even know what it should be about i just wanted it to ba a oscar and targ reader .. thanks ☺️☺️

The river and the flame

Oscar Tully x princess!reader

warning : hurt/comfort, kissing, holding hands, no use of Y/n

Summary : A sacrifice, the only daughter of the Queen of the Black had to be married and the best match was the new young Lord of the House of Tully who promised to give his strength to the Queen. An engagement and marriage consummated, the fire finds itself in waters where both young nobles must hold each other to make it together and not burn and drown each other.

info : thank you dear anon for this request it was a lot of fun to write it have fun reading and have a nice day everyone

masterlist

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

With fire and strength she could have been born, but when the gods were merciful and gave her first husband something in a night of listlessness through wine and potions, the Queen of the Black conceived her fourth child from a marriage that could never have been consummated.

The queen's first and own princess was born, the little child with the image of her parents bright hair thicker than her mother's silken hair and violet eyes like gems that captured everyone. Behind her were the symbols of the dragon and so she was the only one of her siblings to keep her mother's family name, a decision that complicated things and put her three brothers in an even worse light.

But sacrifices had to be made for the princess, sacrifices in the form of "assassinations", new marriages and the retreat to Dragonstone where the faction of the blacks gathered and rebuilt over the course of weeks and months.

The legacy of the Black Dragon Queen was laid on her true daughter and two small toddlers, even though Jacaerys Velaryon was her eldest son and a young man willing to prove himself to inherit his mother's legacy, he knew he had strength in his blood, a blood that his two brothers had but not his half-siblings.

So the Targaryen family, the black party faced with serious problems Daemond in Harenhall had been trying to gather support for some time, Aegon and Viserys sent away with Rhaena but what now?

An alliance had to be forged because even if honor still prevailed houses no longer chose Viserys' side, it was about the future of families, of royalty and children, it was a decision that could mean death or life, ,,Without news from Daemon we cannot rely on the support of the Riverlands…if you allow the proposal of marriage to be made" the Master began again, who returned without his raven's message.

But she didn't even have to look up from the map to hear her mother's reply, ,,Out of the question" before Rhaenyra tried to find answers in the documents and maps, she had no one to marry but her daughter, but what mother wanted to lose her child in an area she could never get to herself.

It could mean her death but when violet eyes met there was something like hope in the princess's eyes, ,,If my queen allows me to marry the new Lord Tully I would be protected by the Prince Regent and the lords of the surrounding houses who have sworn allegiance to Oscar Tully" she gave her explanation and clasped the small metal statue of the fish they had all heard the aftermath of the death and resurrection of the head of the house and it was the only solution.

It ended in a few arguments, tears and loving gestures but now just a few days later here she was under the banner of the fish with her husband Osacr Tully, despite the fact that they were both young so appreciative of each other he had welcomed her without vourtiele was sincere and loving…and perhaps her heart had beaten faster than she thought when he had placed a kiss on her palm.

He held her hand as he showed her Riverrun, introduced her to the household, the hall and the vassals who had also proclaimed themselves for his wife, he treated her as in the songs and stories of yesteryear about noble knights, ,,My reign would not be possible without you, you are the first flame in the river and my heart rejoices more and more every day in your company my beloved," he said to her as he helped her onto one of the boats and they sailed across the river together.

She smiled back at him and gratefully held his hand, holding this little,,,nushell" quite insecurely in contrast to her grandfather's boats, but with every little jerk he held her tightly to him, his dark eyes like the river assuring her of her safety.

,,You are safe I promise" he murmured to her as he held her and she dipped her hand in the river, the wetness and coolness was pleasant instead of the everlasting heat and warmth, ,,I will follow you my lord husband" she replied after the words her mother and grandmother had taught her.

Before she felt his hand gently on her cheek it was just the two of them and the still river as they came closer and kissed again, ,,Oscar please my love" she whispered and she leaned her forehead against his for a moment as the two barely grown nobles lay in each other's arms enjoying the river ride while a joyful scream could be heard above them from time to time between the clouds and she followed Oscar's interested gaze closely.

The water, the fish, the river was her new home, which she quickly took to her heart. Her clothes, although now more of a bluish red and bronze, she kept the symbols of the dragon with her hair, brooches and Seasmoke herself.

Until she met her great-uncle again who had watched this marriage with a disdainful look and even if he didn't admit it, it offended him that his great-niece had managed the union in what he couldn't do in weeks, ,,Impressive isn't it what a princess can do with such looks and devotion, isn't it Lady Tully?" he had asked her at dinner as he sat next to her and looked into tired, almost haggard eyes that resembled her own in color.

She knew Oscar must have heard, she knew her great-uncle and her husband hated each other, didn't like the prospect of sharing power, ,,Her sacrifice to her family and the Queen towards my Targaryen wife is truly impressive she is not only in my house she is the Guardian of the Riverlands Prince Regent" Oscar said with pride in his voice as he raised his goblet and took her hand saying a good luck to Rhaenyra and his wife and she welcomed the restraint of her great uncle who would have otherwise only made things worse.

But all could not always go well only one moon later at the weirwood tree in the garden of the ruined castle Harenhall the houses of the Riverlands found themselves together with Oscar as their new lord and Daemon, a confrontation the princess attended with Seasmoke watching over the whole thing with an interested eye.

A confrontation that ended in blood as Daemond cut off Ser Willem's head ordered by Oscar whose eyes reflected fear for a moment as he looked into hers she clasped his hand the highborn couple watched this execution for all to see she felt the brief squeeze of her hand as Oscar truly saw this bloodshed for the first time.

,,You did the right thing Oscar they will follow you now and so will my great uncle…I won't let any words come back to haunt you I will stand for it" she told him as soon as everyone else had left the ruined garden and the young lord sat down by the tree still somewhat affected by the murder she felt herself almost reflexively wiping the blood away with a handkerchief before helping Oscar wipe his away.

She returned his silent thanks with a gentle kiss and the two sat there in silence until an idea came to her and she called her dragon who was struggling for space in the garden, ,,You have shown me the beauty of the water of your river let me show you the beauty of the sky" she said and climbed onto Seasmoke's back who seemed happy to be flying again.

She saw how it confused him for a moment, the boy rose and placed his hand carefully on the bright waremn scales and Seasmoke nudged him, mocking Ocsar who had been feeding the dragon fish with the help of his wife.

,,Can we fly through clouds? " Oscar asked as she saw courage and joy return to his gaze and he placed himself behind her, his grip on her stomach tightened and she heard his cry as Seasmoke took off with a scream and seemed to disappear into the smoke of his fire in the air.

She put one hand on Oscar's while with the other she gently guided Seasmoke, knowing that Oscar didn't understand her she would one day teach him, ,,I'll fly through anything you want look at this peace and quiet" she said louder over the sound of the loud flapping of wings and Seasmoke's hissing she heard Oscar slowly relax and hug her, laughing happily as he too saw this special something she could see every day.

Up here there didn't seem to be any problems it was quiet not too hot or too cold and peaceful, ,,It's incredibly beautiful" he mumbled continuing to hold on to her fetus as she headed for the clouds and he hesitantly held out a hand and gasped as his fingers got wet and showed her like a little child enjoying a wooden swing but she did the same and they joined hands and flew through the clouds for hours.

She heard his thanks and praise every now and then, a kiss on her cheek and both their hearts beat together in peace as they found beauty in each other's homes, together in love that would go beyond war.

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

[unholly-reader]

I will choose you for the rest of our life - Daemon Targaryen x f!OC!

Hello lovely people!

Daemon's charm has once again struck and so here is some well deserved Daemond fluff. I apologize in advance for any accidents caused by swooning over our favourite Rogue Prince.

Once again - English is NOT my first language!

Enjoy, my dragon lovers!

************************************************************

It was still a warm summer evening when Alanna returned from her journeys beyond the City limits where she accompanied Rhaenyra waiting in the prince on the ground while she took Syrax for a ride. It was a pleasant enough afternoon considering the Princess had a terrible fight with the King about her marriage prospects and the reality of spending a life with somebody which happened to be his favorite subject as of late. Unfortunately, Rhaenyra did not share her father's sentiments and was adamant on remaining unwed. The topic brought many a disagreement between the King and his named Heir, however the love they both shared remained unquestionable. It was clear for Alanna as well as everyone in Court that the day Rhaenyra decides to marry would be the day the nonsense arguments will end but until then the eldest Lady Hightower took vigilant care of the Princess keeping her company and advising if necessary.

- I must say Princess, it will never cease to amaze me how truly united you and Syrax are. It's as if you're two bodies and one soul - said Alanna, dismounting her horse after reaching the royal stables. Rhaenyra chuckled lightly, jumping off her golden mare with ease and smiling to her companion.

- I wish you could know how it feels, Aunt Alanna. The bond between a dragon and its rider is second to none, truly.

- I am quite content seeing you with Syrax, sweet girl. It brings me so much joy to see you smile, especially after rough mornings such as today.

Rhaenyra nodded gratefully at Alanna, walking towards her with a gentle, but saddened smile.

- I am so very thankful to have you here, Aunt Alanna. I don't what I would have done if your father had sent to Old Town.

- Luckily, we don't have to find that out. Now come, you must eat something and above all you need a long bath. You stink of dragon - laughed Alanna, putting her arm over the Princess's shoulders.

Rhaenyra joined her in laughter as they made their way towards the Keep when the gates opened themselves to reveal Ser Harrold Westerling approaching both ladies. Quickly he descended the stairs and walked to them, bowing dutifully.

- My Princess. My Lady. The King requires your presence in the throne room.

Rhaenyra sighed heavily, taking her gloves off.

- By Gods, we have only argued this morning. Can't whatever my father needs from me wait until tomorrow?

The commander bowed his head once again, looking at the Heir apologetically.

- Pardon me, Princess, but the King has asked for the Lady Alanna.

It was now Alanna's turn to snap her head to Ser Harrold in surprise. She glanced at Rhaenyra, shock painted on her face.

- Me? Whatever for?

- I couldn't say, My Lady. He only requested that you come down to the throne room and that the matter is urgent.

Lady Hightower nodded politely, turning to face Rhaenyra and put her hands on the girls shoulders.

- We shall meet for dinner, sweet girl. You go wash off that stench of yourself and I will come see you later.

Rhaenyra hesitated but eventually she kissed Alanna's cheek and walked on towards her chambers.

- Ser Harrold.

- Princess.

Alanna watched as the girl disappeared behind the doors and then turned her gaze to the knight. Ser Harrold held his arm out as if to invite the woman to walk with him, bowing his head slightly.

- If you please, My Lady.

The woman followed his direction in silence, entering the Red Keep and moving to the corridors leading straight to the throne room. The inside od the castle were brightly lit by many torches and candles surrounding the place, but here and there the setting sun crept inside the Keep's walls. Alanna held her skirt in one palm as the train of her dark blue gown swept the floors behind her, while she quietly walked by Ser Harrold's side. It was a short walk as they reached the throne room soon enough. Ser Harrold had the guards open the doors and he led Alanna inside, where the King sat upon his throne all by himself.

- Lady Alanna Hightower, Your Grace - announced Ser Harrold as Alanna stepped into the light, standing atop the stairs.

- Thank you, Ser Harrold. You may take your leave now - replied Viserys, waving his hand at the knight. The Lord Commander bowed and swiftly left the room, leaving the King and his sister by law alone.

- Please, do come in, Lady Alanna.

Suspecting nothing of the foul means Alanna descended down the stairs and walked up to the King, curtsying before the monarch with a polite bow of her head.

- Your Grace - she said respectfully, straightening her posture and looking at Viserys with a gentle smile - I do not mean any disrespect, Your Grace, but is there a particular reason why you asked to see me?

- Are you happy here, My Lady?

- Pardon me, Your Grace? - asked Alanna, baffled by the King's question.

And so Viserys repeated his query.

- I asked if you are happy here, in the Capital?

Alanna smiled bashfully, not quite sure what to say to that unusual question.

- I am quite happy, Your Grace. Spending my time with the Princess and my sister, the Queen is all I could ever ask for. I am truly grateful to you for allowing me to stay at Court.

- And what of your marriage prospects, my dear? Has there been any word from your father in that matter?

This question baffled Alanna even more so than the first one. She smiled politely at the King, trying to uphold the unsuspecting demeanor while in reality she kept wondering about where this conversation was leading.

- I could not say, Your Grace. My father has not been the most attentive towards me ever since my sister became the Queen. I believe it is the matters of the realm and those of your bedchambers that concern him more than myself, Your Grace.

Alanna did not register what words left her mouth until the moment they left it. It took her only a few second to realize what she ghat just said to her King and how disrespectful it was towards him and her father. Not to mention how unladylike this behavior was. Quickly she bowed her head, staring at the tips of her shoes peeking from underneath her dark blue dress, praying that the King would not feel insulted by her choice of words.

- Your Grace, I apologize. I meant no insult either to you or my father. I seem to have forgotten to hold my tongue.

Instead of hearing the angry King reprimand her, she heard a mere laugh. When she looked up, she saw the King smiling, almost grinning like a fool and laughing as if she had just told him something incredibly funny. It was a rare sight to see Viserys this joyful, especially since it has been a tough couple of days for him and his eldest daughter.

- You Grace?

The King’s laughter slowly died down as he walked up to Alanna, gently raising his hand to hold her chin up. Staring into the King’s lilac eyes she was reminded of her lover’s eyes, so bright and pure in the light of the setting sun.

- I could not see it before, but I do now - said Viserys with a thoughtful smile - You share the same spirit, but you also possess the fierceness to tame him.

Somehow Alanna knew he was speaking of Daemon, but she would not let it be known to the King. Without shifting her demeanor she continued acting clueless and unaware.

- I do not know what it is you are speaking of, Your Grace.

- I have been told that there were numerous occasions you were seen with my brother and you seemed to have been thoroughly enjoying his company. Is this true?

Alanna froze in place. She didn't know how to answer this, whether to tell the truth or keep on lying. It has been like a thorn at her side, not being able to stand by Daemon, speak with him, touch is hand. It would be risky to reveal her true feelings, especially to the King, but something was telling her it was the right thing to do. So she did it.

- It is true, Your Grace - answered Alanna, holding the King's gaze proudly.

It wasn't defiance or arrogance, but there was something that Viserys saw in her eyes in that moment. Like she had made a choice to stop hiding. There was this indescribable spark in her blue orbs, something the King could not quite put his finger on but he knew that may very well have been the reason his brother fell for this young lady. Gently he let his hand fall down, still holding her gaze with a kind smile.

- If you were given the choice to marry whom you desire, who would be your chosen husband?

This time Alanna did not falter nor did she hesitate. She wasn't sure what the game Viserys played with her was, but she somehow didn't care about the consequences. He was her King and she owed him her loyalty, and above all else - her truth.

- Daemon.

Her answer was loud and clear, no doubt in her voice or in her eyes and only a fool wouldn't see it. The King was no fool.

- Do you love my brother, Lady Alanna?

- With everything I am today and everything I ever hope to become.

Viserys did not expect such honesty. He knew only what Daemon had told him of his feelings for his sister by law, but it came as a surprise to the King to learn of her devotion towards his brother. She stood there with her head held high, eyes staring into the King's lilac orbs with no fear. Viserys hummed to himself, taking a few steps back and turning away to face the throne. He contemplated the circumstances while Alanna awaited her verdict. As it turned out patience seemed to have run thin within her mind as she spoke up, grabbing Viserys's attention.

- I do not know why it would matter to you, Your Grace, but whatever you may think of your brother, he is who my soul longs for - said Alanna, smiling dreamily like a little girl - I could never forget him or abandon him and no matter how many times he is exiled from Court, I will always await his return if only to gaze upon his face. He is my reason and my sanity and I am certain nothing could ever change that.

The King turned around swiftly, looking at his sister by law as if he saw her for the first time. Her eyes were glimmering like the night sky lit by showers of shooting stars. Her face was almost glowing as if the love she had for his brother illuminated her features. Viserys only ever witnessed this kind of devotion twice. The first was the love he was born from, the one that united his father, Prince Baelon with his mother, Princess Alyssa. Although blurry and somewhat worn-away, memories of the love his parents shared was imprinted on his mind, daily reminding him of what is supposed to matter to him most. His family.

The second time he witnessed this type of love was when he met Aemma. Even though they didn't fall for one another at first sight, she had made him the man he became, the King he grew up to be. Choosing his heir over her life would always be his worst nightmare, haunting him each and every night. Despite the tragic ending he knew he was truly loved and loved truly in return. Much like Alanna seemed to love his brother and from what the King could tell, Daemon loved her just as much.

- And is Lady Alanna the wife you would choose, brother? - asked Viserys, still looking at his good-sister.

Alanna felt her heart stop in her chest as Daemon emerged out of the shadows behind the Iron Throne. He was wearing his dark grey breeches and white linen shirt, his short hair ruffled as if he had just woken up but in her eyes he never looked more handsome. And she could swear he never looked at her with so much emotion in his eyes ever before.

- I would choose her now and every day for the rest of my life.

As Daemon approached the King and his beloved, Alanna could not mutter a single word. She was too stunned to speak. The Rogue Prince walked towards her but stopped beside his brother, never taking his eyes off his beloved. Viserys glanced at Daemon and then faced Alanna with a kind smile on his face, feeling his heart fill up with joy. Looking at the two of them he knew there was only one right thing to do.

- The day I married Alicent, you became my good sister and since then not a day has passed that you wouldn't serve me with your good word or the actions of your kind heart. In all this time I never thought to thank you for all that you have done for my family, for my daughter in the absence of her late mother, but maybe now I will repay my debt - said the King, taking her hand in his, at the same time grabbing Daemon's hand as well and joining them together.

Alanna felt tears gathering in her eyes as she looked at Daemon and their joined hands. When Viserys stepped back, his younger brother took a hold of Alanna's palm in both his hands, going down on one knee before her.

- I will choose you every day for the rest of our lives, my light. If you'll have me - spoke Daemon, gently caressing her hand.

The Lady Hightower was at a loss for words. She felt all her emotions go on a rampage as she looked down at the love of her life asking her to be his for eternity. She could not believe it was real, but somehow she knew it was. She had him right there at the grasp of her hands and all she had to do was say "yes". Instaed of saying anything, Alanna kneeled before him, putting her hand over his grasping her other palm and brought them to her lips. She looked up in his lilac eyes, so true and loving she could fall apart right there and then, and simply said the words.

- And I will choose you for the rest of our life, my love. Just like I choose you today.

[lunarflux]

⥈ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗, 𝖕𝖙 𝟏 [𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖚𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖗𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖌𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘] 

Aemond Targaryen x Reader/fem!OC | Daemon Targaryen x Reader/fem!OC 

X: There is a dark soul in the Red Keep who toys with the strings of fate and tampers with the bonds it holds. She frays at its edges, knowing that with a simple word she could sever it entirely. Aemond has found a soul that mirrors his, and she fills the cracks in his core with molten gold. Though he isn't the only one who craves the solace she provides - or the pleasure she withholds.

Note: This has been edited into third person omniscient, and the word count has been doubled. I think it's safe to say I should stick to what I know lol

Word count: 2,2k

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It was a curious silence that fell over the Small Council whenever she arrived. Queen Alicent who, even in her youth, never looked at Lethira without suspicion eyed her as she sat down, claiming the seat that normally would have been claimed by Lord Corlys. Her lips formed into a bloodless line. 

The pangs of sour memories had yet to cease their needle-like assault on Alicent’s chest. Every time Lethira would appear, all she saw was the same grin – the same, conniving smirk – that plagued her youth. Rhaenyra was her friend, but Lethira was far from it. And while their interactions back then were never purposefully unpleasant, it was almost as if Lethira knew things, had intentions, that Alicent was always painfully aware of. For whatever reason, Rhaenyra was not. And if she was, she either ignored it or welcomed it. Alicent never knew which. 

Alicent saw. It was impossible not to. She saw the inevitable effect Lethira had on those around her. They all turned. They all stared. The attention could have been ignored, but it was the way her childhood ghost somehow made the room turn cold while setting it ablaze with her words. No one knew how to challenge her, for when they tried, it was in vain. She was too cunning. She held thoughts and opinions that silenced even the Hand of the King.  

"Lethira," Alicent said her name with a heavy sigh. Regardless of her worries, she still found a way to hold herself strong. She would not have a cold memory from her youth plague her life as a queen. "I understand Small Council is still very new to you. However - " 

"- I am well aware of when the Council meets, Your Grace." Lethira's response was quick and sharp, not with the preciousness of adolescence, but with the certainty of a dark chill. "I am here as a courtesy to inform you I cannot stay today. I have other pressing matters to attend to." 

"And what -" 

“Perhaps, you should consider installing one of your sons in my place of this Council if you are in need of a body to warm a seat.” Lethira cocked her head to the side, her legs crossed one over the other in a manner that allowed her black gown to expose the faintest flash of skin. She loved these silent battles with Alicent. The way her brow would twitch with concern. It was the same, even back then. 

Alicent had no time to argue before she stood with a facetious curtsy.

It had not been long since Lethira's arrival that she started to pick away at the many shadows that haunted the Red Keep. Some shadows, however, followed closer than others. 

Daemon, sly as ever, always seemed to be around every corner with his signature grin. If Lethira spoke and consequently removed the tongue of a curt Lord with a single word, he would smile again. He kept his distance – only barely. And when he didn’t, the conversations always teetered on something she recognized as playful teasing. It was a foolish attempt to understand her (and her motives), and yet she welcomed it all the same. 

How entertaining. 

“Avoiding your duties again, little serpent,” Daemond appeared just as the doors to the Council shut behind her. He tilted his head towards her with his eyes narrowed as if he still had not grown used to the image of Lethira as a woman and not a girl. “Lord Corlys might think you absent in his place.” 

Lethira enjoyed the way he looked at her. Yes, it was a face and an expression she recalled from her youth, but it was also the same way he looked at Rhaenyra. Whether he was aware she saw it (even if Rhaenyra didn’t), she didn’t care.  

“Alicent has done her duty to keep me mute. She needs a seat filled and sees no use for my opinion no matter how rooted in logic it may be.” 

“So, I am correct. Loose loyalty does not suit a Lady, Lethira.” 

She leaned in close until the scent of leather and sea salt trickled over her cheeks. Daemon didn’t back down, maintaining his composure in the face of her firm stance. Lethira parted her lips, just enough for him to see her tongue run across her teeth.  

“Am I still a ‘little serpent’ to you, Daemon?” 

There was a flicker – only barely noticeable – to flash across his face. A young Rhaenyra challenged him in similar ways, but as the years passed, there had been no other to speak to him in a way that felt like it was laced with fire. The low rumblings of her taunting turned his lips upward, and cast his gaze down to exposed flesh below her collar. Supple and rosy, he wondered if she tasted just as sweet. 

Lethira took two steps back with her hands folded behind her back. She tilted her chin down, looking up at him through midnight lashes. “There is no loyalty in that council. Only rigid greed.” 

“And do you not also feel the euphoric sting of greed?” Daemon chuckled. The scent of her sweet perfume beckoned him closer, but he stood firmly. “I thought I knew you better.” 

“I do not feed the greed of others, my Prince,” she whispered, lips puckering ever so slightly. “Only my own. I suppose you and I are alike in that way.” 

“Always the fire-starter.” He raised his head. “You always were a dangerous one.” 

“One of us must hold the flame to the throne. Now that the Princess shares your marital bed, I see that your light has dimmed. She always did pull your attention. Whether or not I burned just as brightly back then will always be a mystery to you. I am not snuffed out so easily.” Lethira's gaze shifted. “Unless you believe that your nephew carries the torch where you cannot. Maybe his flame matches mine.” 

There it was again – the flicker – except now it was the distinct sign that she'd hit a nerve. Daemon’s jaw tightened, and his grin faltered. He hated mentions of Aemond, and Lethira knew. The one-eyed prince was the only other shadow she cared to notice, and whatever attention she paid to him irked Daemon in ways that amused her. It wasn’t a matter of seeing who would fight for her. She wanted to know who would break beneath her pretty fingers.  

Who would break, who would break first, and who would shatter. 

The trysts with Daemon never ended with a farewell. By now Lethira grew used to simply walking past him, and always, she felt his eyes follow like a predator learning the habits of small prey. 

This was the new game, and she learned to play it well. 

⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈⥈ 

The hours of politics wore Lethira down just enough to the point where her mask faltered. It was only then that she excused herself, and she always managed to evade her escorts no matter how hard they tried to follow. She walked slowly throughout the Keep. The moon rose high above the courtyard, and the Lords and Ladies retreated to their chambers. It was only the King’s Guard that remained, and when their eyes traced the line of her waist, she would glance – only once – and force them back to attention. 

Lethira walked on until she found the room she often found the most solace – or perhaps, the most entertainment. 

Aemond stood with his back to her, hands clasped behind him as he looked out over the bay. His silver hair glinted in the moonlight, his posture rigid as always. Lethira leaned lazily against a marble column, watching him with a sly smile—like a dragon on watch that knew exactly how much her presence unsettled him. 

Another game.  

This was of a different kind than the one she played with Daemon. So different, and yet so much sweeter. Aemond’s silent anguish and curiosity tasted like liquid frost while Daemon’s felt like a blistering fire. Where Daemon’s stare followed her in the open, Aemond’s followed in secret. She wanted to tug at him if only to see where he’d bend. Where would he fold – would he fold at all? The fall was inevitable. From her brief time in King’s Landing, Lethira observed what others overlooked. He was far more pensive than most, and he was seen as strong enough to be left alone by the Queen. 

What a waste, she thought. He was yet another dragon trapped in a prince’s mortal cage. Something about his latency intrigued her. 

"Still brooding, Aemond?" Lethira teased with her voice only loud enough for him to hear. "You'll bear a hole in a moon if you stare at it any harder." 

He turned his head slightly. "And what brings you skulking out here, Lethira? Tired of the revelry already?" His voice was low, calm—dangerously so. With Aemond, every word felt like a sword piercing the fragile veil of fabric on skin, honed to precision. 

She stepped closer, her silk gown rustling softly against the stone. "You of all people would recognize a skulk. I needed a moment away from dull courtiers and their duller politics." 

His lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk before disappearing back into his stoic facade. "Funny. I thought you thrived on politics. And the subtle prying of men’s faults." 

"I do," she admitted, her gaze flickering over him like a cat sizing up its prey. "But I find this much more interesting." 

Aemond shifted, his intense gaze locking onto hers. "Do you enjoy this? Pretending like our meetings are a coincidence?" 

"Perhaps it is just a coincidence. Isn’t that why I have your favor," she countered smoothly, closing the distance between them. "You like danger. And you crave control. It’s the uncertainty of knowing it is I who has the control that unnerves you." 

A muscle in his jaw tightens, but his eye never left her, circling over the hint of a flush over her cheeks. "You think you know me so well." 

"I do," she murmured. "Because I find myself... Intrigued. By you." Her voice softened, and in that brief moment, the mask slipped—just a little before she caught herself. The rigid wall returned quickly. "I simply wonder if we are allies... or enemies." 

Aemond’s breath caught—just for a second, almost imperceptible. "And what would you have us be?" he asked quietly, his voice edged with something dangerous. Desire, perhaps. Or regret. 

Lethira leaned in, lips brushing just close enough to be felt without touching. "Depends," she whispered. "What are you willing to give me?" 

His hand snapped out, catching her wrist—not harshly, but with enough force to make her heart skip. For a moment, they were locked in a silent standoff, the tension between them a live wire.  

His grip said, You won’t control me.  

Her unflinching stare replied, Watch me try. 

And then, just as quickly, he let her go. 

“Do you grow tired of toying with my uncle already?” The venom flowed freely in Aemond's voice. Just as Daemon detested his name, Aemond loathed Daemon’s. The constant push and pull over – not only the power in the realm – but over who had the least amount of stakes in this game with Lethira. Aemond wouldn’t dare sit to wonder how invested he was – or if he was invested at all. Something about her and the way she spoke unnerved him, but the rumblings in his chest told him this was not the fear he had grown to tame into force. This was something entirely different. 

“And why does my time with Daemon bother you so?” Lethira hummed a low sigh as she slowly circled around him. “He sees me as the image of the girl Rhaenyra was, only now a woman. My time away from King’s Landing allowed me to grow. Not change. I do not control the urges of a tempted man. You give me too much credit.” 

"You think too highly of yourself, Lethira," Aemond murmured, though his eye lingered on her a moment too long. 

She stopped in front of him and tilted her head, a slow smile spreading across her lips. "Perhaps. Or maybe you don’t allow yourself to think highly enough of me." 

Aemond stepped back, giving her space—but not before brushing his fingers along hers, the briefest, most deliberate of touches. It was a warning. And a promise. She wondered if that was all the indulgence he could stand to allow himself. That was all he allowed himself to give to her – a touch. How long before he crumbled before her and gave more? 

"You’ll have to work harder than that," Aemond whispered. 

Lethira's smile deepened, the challenge sparking something electric in her veins. "Good," she purred. "If you made it too easy, I would’ve grown tired of you." 

Aemond gave her one last look, something dark and unfathomable swirling in his gaze. And then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving her standing alone beneath the stars. 

But she didn’t mind. Not one bit. Because she knew—this is just the beginning. 

[plutoscosmoss]

Fire Inside   ➸ c.19

Warnings: This series includes themes of violence, death, smut, childbirth and childbirth complications (if I forgot to mention any please let me know)

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x OC

{Series Masterlist}

Previous Chapter

Chapter 19: The Birth Of A Queen

Two weeks had passed since the wedding of Jacaerys and Renva.  The two have been performing their marital duties everynight to ensure an heir is produced. It was calm in Dragonstone, The newlyweds would wake up and break fast with the rest of the family, Renva would joke with Baela and Rhaena. The three became quickly inseparable, they would travel to the libraries after breaking fast in the mornings and read for an hour. Then they would separate, Renva going to Signe and Baela going to Moondancer, Rhaena decided to follow around Daemon and Rhaenyra and learn more about politics. Cregan had left four days after the wedding, following the news that Lord Stark had fallen ill. Cregan wanted to make sure his sister was settled before leaving her and returning to Winterfell. 

Renva was currently taking a walk along the beach with Signe, the direwolf choosing to stay more inland than her counterpart. The ocean calmed Renva, it’s not like they had one in Winterfell but the crashing of the waves reminded her of the gentle snow storms that plagued the north during the winter. Renva bent down to pick up a shell, when she heard a screech. Spending the last two weeks on Dragonstone, she picked up on the dragon's calls. This was one she hadn’t heard before. Glancing up towards the sky she saw a magnificent red dragon with copper like horns descend near the beach allowing its rider to disembark from its back. Renvas hand ghosted over the dagger she held with her at all times, she knew about the tension between the queen to be and what Daemon deemed as ‘the greens’.  As the figure approached the gate of the castle, Renva noticed it was the Queen who never was. 

Trailing behind her at a distance, Renva made her way towards the painted table room where Rhaenyra and Daemond were talking. 

“Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.” Sir Lorent announced Rhaenys presence, unbeknownst to the others in the room, Renva waited outside the chamber. She too assumed Rhaenys was here to bring news about the Lord of Driftmark’s health but it turned out that it was something much worse entirely.

“Viserys is dead.” Renva’s hand shot to her mouth to hold in her gasp. “I grieve this loss with you Rhaenyra. My cousin, your father, possessed a kind heart.” It was quiet for a moment, Renva thought the worst was now over but in general Targaryen fashion, there was always something else. “

“There is more. Aegon has been crowned as his successor.” Renva heard a wince of pain from the true heir before she spoke, “They crowned him?” Daemon took his chance to speak since it grew silent. “How did Viserys die?” Renva took this as her chance to leave the scene, to find somewhere to run. She knew that Jacaerys would be informed but she didn't know how long till then. She thought it best to give him space until he sought comfort in her. 

She found herself in the library, a place that brought her comfort. No matter where she was in the world, a library provided her with the same thing, freedom. Freedom to choose what to read, but also a way to escape the would that regarded women with very little care. How she missed her father, news on his condition wasn’t ever fast enough. Turning to the rows of books, she saw one of her favorites that her father would read to her as a child. The cover was the same, a wolf that almost looked like it was eating its own tail. 

She chose a chair near the fireplace and tucked her feet under her. She was almost a third of the way into the book when she saw Ceria enter the library with a letter. 

“Is that news of my father?” Renva shot out of her seat and rushed to meet Ceria.

“I believe it is, your grace.” Ceria curtsied and started to turn when Renva lightly grabbed her arm. “Would you please stay with me?” Renva asked in almost a childlike manner. “Of course.” 

The two sat in the soft arm chairs, as Renva started to shakily open the letter she noticed wet spots on the letter. She knew it could be from the weather but something in her gut told her differently. Renva pulled out the letter and started reading, it was Cregan's handwriting. Her eyes didn’t have to travel far to receive the condition of her father, written not even two lines in were the words, 

‘I regret to inform you my dear sister, but father has passed as of the twelfth day of the tenth moon. When you receive this letter it will be too late for you to attend fathers funeral. But know dear sister you are never far from our hearts. I have been named Lord of Winterfell and I will stand beside you along with the rest of the North. If you need me, do not hesitate to come. Sincerely, with love, Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell’.

Renva let the letter fall to her feet, she didn’t notice she was crying until Ceria pulled out a white handkerchief and wiped her face. “My father is dead.” She whispered out to no one in particular. Renva could feel her heart snap in two, however she knew she had to pull it together because while the death of her father was tragic, there was a more pressing matter to address. The death of the King. Wiping her tears away, she picked up the letter, folding it neatly and putting it back in the envelope. She turned to Ceria, “You are dismissed Ceria, thank you for comforting me, but I think it is time I go find my husband.” Renva walked through the halls of the castle but stopped when she heard a painful scream. Following the noise she stumbled across Rhaenyra, and a cluster of handmaidens who were begging her to allow them to help. “Out all of you.” Renva said as she entered the chambers and shooed out the staff. She slowly walked  towards Rhaenyra who was in a corner covering herself like a wounded animal. Once Renva married Jacaerys, she read all about what was to be expected of her. She read books about the development of a babe and how it is best delivered, along with complications that could occur.  Noting that Rhaenyra was covered in blood and there was still no babe Renva wondered if the babe was possibly stuck or coming out the wrong way. After growing close with Rhaenyra, Renva knew that the now Queen would hesitate to send her away if anything. 

“Your grace it is me Renva.” Renva held her hands out to the new Queen. Renva slightly jumped when she felt the Queen grab her hands with such force. “I am here, you need to push. The babe might be stuck.” Rhaenyra held on tight to Renva as she processed the younger girl's words. Renva allowed her to squeeze her arms as she pulled Rhaenyra to her knees, keeping in mind it was easier to deliver a babe that way. “On three okay?” Rhaenyra nodded, “One, two” the Queen took a deep breath, “three!” Rhaenyra screamed as she pushed.  As Renva helped pull the babe out she felt what it was that happened before she saw it. Once Renva pulled the babe up to let it rest in Rhaenyra’s arms, both women's attention shifted from Rhaenyra’s cries of pain, to the little body that didn’t cry at all. “It’s Visenya, your grace.” Renva whispered out, even though her voice felt like it echoed off the walls.  The poor babe was covered in what looked like dragon scales, with small lumps on her back where wings should be. Renva held Rhaenyra close, as the mother cradled her only daughter’s lifeless body and wept.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

next chapter

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL TALKS ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF THE COIN AND HOW IT WAS HIS IDEA TO INTRODUCE IT INTO THE PLOT.

"The coin was actually my idea. It was something that I kind of presented to David Hancock. I was like, this might be cool if one of the coins that was used for the map in episode one during the shadow council between Cole and Aemond. What if i could use one of those coins in episode three?."

[theobjectofyourire]

Dohaeriros - A Daemond Drabble

CONTENT WARNINGS: dubcon/noncon (but could be read as just really rough consensual sex tbh) I can't tell if the dove is dead, but it's definitely injured, dom!Aemond, sub!Daemon, dacryphilia, mention of blood and bruising (non-sexual), smut smut smut

word count - just over 300 words

a/n : I am so deep in the writing trenches, working on fics for aemond x reader , daemon x aemond, aemond x helaena, the list goes ever on but I had to pause everything to write this quick little requested drabble because I'm obsessed with the idea of dominance reversal in this pairing. unedited. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do

******

In desperation, it comes.

Ignorant of all instinct, the word slips from his mouth as little more than a whimpering, a weeping, and not the first offered by this, the late hour of ghosts. His old dragon had claimed himself incapable of such sweet, sorrowing sounds, such striking submission, but even through his near unfathomable, aching whines, their mother tongue is not so easily mistaken for another.

Still stained by shed scarlet, the young Prince Regent wraps a slender, savage hand around his uncle’s throat, humming at the quickened pulse beneath his fingers.

“You seem made for me, Uncle,” he purrs, teeth scraping the shell of his ear. “Every inch of you, so perfectly molded.” Lazily do his lips stray, marking a path to the soft, fluttering spot of his neck.

There is not an ounce of mercy in his bite.

He comes away with blood.

“Say it again.”

The rogue prince shudders, all but keens as his nephew delivers a sudden, brutal thrust into his already agonized heat. His bruised cheek is met with the fleeting warmth of a single tear, uncertain of its place before it is ripped from him ruthlessly with a sharp lick of Aemond’s tongue.

Never had he known such use.

The word threatens to once again tumble from his traitorous lips with a wretched, nighly prayerful moan that frightens him to his very core. The young dragon growls, rutting into him with further violence, piercing him deeper with indignation and indulgence in equal measure.

“Dohaeriros,” he snarls, and gods, it makes him weak. “Say. It. Again.”

Daemon mewls at the command, a truly pitiful attempt of refusal remedied all too soon by the squeezing of his throbbing, anguishing cock. His nephew’s grip is invulnerable, beyond pleasure or pain or any word of the Common Tongue.

“Āeksio,” Daemon sobs, more wounded beast than man, but Aemond hears him all the same.

“Yes, little slave,” he leers, his fingers tightening. “I am your master.”

******

[bonniesfamiliar]

Hi ! Sorry for bothering you again but i wanted to ask you ,who do you ship in HOTD ?

Oh, you're not bothering me at all honestly.

IK I'm gonna get sm hate for this post.

I'm a multishipper of a lot of fandoms and HOTD is no exception.

HOTD has a lot of problematic ships but oh well, they're war criminals anyway so what can you do 🤷🤷🤷🤷.

These are based on fics that I've read NOT THE SHOW.

I can't ship anyone on the show.

They look good standing next to each other but I wouldn't do that to any of the characters.

AO3 on the other hand has given me good fluffy ships

Jacaerys x Cregan Stark

Lucerys x Aemond

Rhaenyra x Alicent

Daemond x Alicent (Don't knock it til you try it)

I like this user writing prompts (especially cuz they're so well written)

Helaena x Jacaerys

Aemond x Helaena

Alicent x Criston (But only in the sense that he's the dad who stepped up in fics)

And above all, Alicent x Me cuz I would 100% be a better husband (I'm a girl) than Gollu- I mean Viserys

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hi! I was wondering what is your opinion about aemond ships in the fandom? you know like aemond x alys, aemond x helaena, aemond x lucerys and aemond x daemon for example.

Alysmond? Yeah, get that big titty witch.

Helaemond? Yes, here for the yearning. Have a go on your sister.

Daemond? Throat off your uncle. Let me watch.

Lucemond? Get it away from me. It’s weird and paedophilic.

Not coming for anyone that enjoys that as a ship, I just stay away from it because it gives me the creeps.