#double the pain and give it to daemon

[gloomskulls]

house of the dragon and ordeal of the bier

dir by geeta patel and artwork by jenő gyárfás

[restinslices]

Helaena my beloved

You deserve so much more. You're a sheep surrounded by wolves and it's so unfair

[hairaimo]

I could write a whole thesis on the scene where helaena forgives alicent but I’m deciding to be normal tonight

[tomgcsmrs]

god take all their pain, double it and give it daemon targaryen

[sguidwards-bestfriend]

So apparently pitchpearl is a thing, I've been on tumblr for a while and if you know any history then you understand why selfcest doesn't surprise me in the slightest

Anyway...

dpxdc Misunderstanding that becomes reality fic: 1.5k

part 1

Warning: I plan on a very melancholic ending, its a good ending but also kinda sad

...

When Danny moved to Gotham, he really had thought he wouldn't continue his hero work in this dimension.

But there was a little girl in the street that almost got hurt during a rogue attack.

But some kind of gas went off at the cafe he worked at and it's not like he really needs to breath and there were so many people.

But his University, Gotham U, was in a lock down from a random winter storm that definitely wasn't natural.

So he did what he could when he saw it and kept off of the news when he was doing class work, letting the other "vigilantes" pick up where he couldn't.

However, after a few more months of class, work, and being a vigilante (the news station that first showed him used the correct name!!), he was right back where he had been in Amity before he'd managed to close the portal.

Exhausted and failing at everything other than hero work.

The year after he had graduated high school he stayed in Amity and was able to make amends with the ghosts, being the crown prince definitely helped. He thought the ghost attacks stopping would have lessened his pa- Jack and Maddie trying to catch one. In reality they only became more and more frantic to catch the last ghost, "Mini Phantom".

Revealing he had a daughter, that that daughter was half ghost, hadn't gone well in the slightest.

The one shot Maddie managed to hit had almost destabilized her. He had grabbed her and ran into the portal. He wasn't sure how he'd done it, but in a fit of blinding rage he had destroyed both sides of the doorway to the Ghost Zone.

Frost bite had managed to get her to retract into her core. She'd need some time before she'd have a physical form again, and she'd need Danny to keep her stable for some time, but she would make it. She'd be fine in the end.

It felt weird to have two cores in his chest, but other than needing to take ecto shots it wasn't a huge change.

The last time he'd been to frostbite Ellie's core had some sort of shake to it. It could have been nothing, but a halfa was rare enough. A halfa making a never-born hadn't even been thought of. Add on, that that never-born could possibly be born a halfa was... concerning.

So here he was, in an entirely new dimension, nervously chewing on the end of his stylus, waiting to hear back from Frostbite. His study sessions lately kept being interrupted by thoughts of her. If she really was okay.

Then there was an earth shattering BOOM, that shook his entire building.

As he floated upwards and through the wall he caught a glimpse of something he had never seen before in his afterlife.

A daemon. An actual daemon with red skin and horns and a flaming tail crawling out of the ruble that used to be his front door.

Danny could sense immediately that the being wasn't from the ghost zone, but it held just as much power as one of the stronger ghost.

He transformed and landed in front of the being, "Hey! That was my front door! What gives, Rudolf?"

The daemon shook the dust off his head and looked at Phantom, then at his chest, and back at him. "I do not fight those that carry child."

"Oh... uh." He was not expecting that. "Are you okay?"

It was the daemons turn to look perplexed. "I am fighting a hellblazer, he owes me something. Refuses to pay."

"That's annoying." He looked around to see some guy in a trench coat at the end of the street. The yet to settle dust cloud making it hard to figure out any other features. "I can help if you-"

At that a massive blast of magic hit him and the daemon, sending them careening farther down the street.

Danny's vision went double and he thought he was going to throw up. All he could focus on at first was the pain as he tried to stand on wobbly legs, then it was the emptiness in his chest.

Ellie.

He closed his eyes and dropped back to the floor. He focused on her core. He found it quickly, checking it over, turning it every which way incessantly until he heard someone groan in front of him.

When he opened his eyes he was looking at two much smaller daemons, one a bright red, the other a darker wine red, sitting in a massive indent in the road. One he very luckily was on the very outskirts of.

The two immediately started to bicker, swatting at each other, but not actually fighting.

He heard footsteps on the wreckage behind him, some magic words were said and the daemons' were hand cuffed and poofed out of sight.

"Hey kid, you okay?" Trench coat asked him, not bothering to give him his hand.

"No thanks to you, you ass."

"I just saved your life." He said with a blank expression.

"The daemon wouldn't have done anything to me. Unlike you, they have a moral code."

Trench coat huffed, that seemed to ruffle his feathers. "And what would those morals be exactly?"

"They pay their debts, for one. And two, they don't magically attack people carrying children." Danny stood up and wavered. Trench coat grabbed his arm to steady him.

He stared at Danny for a few more seconds, "You're not human." It wasn't a question. He sucked in a breath, "You're not fully human."

"Ding, ding, ding." Danny tried to shake of the hellblazer's grip. "Let go of me."

"I know where to get medical attention for non humans. You need to be looked over." He said, starting the motion to make a portal.

"Nuh, uh. No. I'm fine." Danny said, patting the hand still wrapped around his arm. Trenchcoat let go and shoved him lightly, Danny felt the world twist around him as the pavement came up to meet his face.

Before he hit the ground he stopped in mid air, not by his own volition, and was gently propped back up.

"That blast spell is designed to not affect humans. You shouldn't have felt more than a breeze." Trenchcoat went back to opening up a portal, it glowed an eerie red. "Come on, well check the little one too."

Danny let himself get pulled through the red portal, it quickly closed behind them.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

His head was pounding.

"wha/t- morals- exactly?"

Talking.

"debts- two- atta/ckp/eo-ple- children."

Two voices. Two people.

"not human."

He feels empty.

"Letg/oof me."

He's hurt. His other half is hurt.

"You need to be looked over."

He opened his eyes, a man was holding his other half. His other half and his daughter.

"Nuh, uh. No. I'm fine." His other half swatted at the man.

The man pushed his other half to the ground.

He tried to reach out but his hand was barely a shimmering outline.

His other half didn't hit the ground.

There was ringing in his ears. The man would pay.

"Come on,- the little one too."

The man pulled his other half through a portal.

A sickly looking portal. A bloody color.

He floated up. Sped to the closing portal.

It closed too fast.

He wasn't fast enough.

...

It took Phantom 20 minutes to get his thoughts in order and another 10 before the ringing in his ears stopped.

He had been split in two before, but the ghost "dream catcher" the ecto-scientists made years ago had split his ghost half and his human half entirely. This was different.

He still felt a bit of his humanness. Transforming would suck though, he felt too low on ecto to do that.

His other half was in his human form when he looked. He still had Ellie nestled up against his core. But his core looked off. Although the silhouette was of a full sphere, he couldn't help shaking the thought that he saw some parts missing.

When Danny had been split before only his ghost had kept the core, it was what nearly killed them both. What made them promise to never split again.

Maybe if they both had bits of a core they'd be fine until they could reunite.

He tried to focus on his core but it made his head pound.

He'd have to hope his other half could manage as he tried to organize a rescue mission.

Although he'd managed to get a message from the Ghost Zone to Sam and Tucker, he wouldn't be able to get one dirrectly to their dimension.

He knew even trying to make a portal with his ecto as low as it was wasn't a good idea. And would be a waste of the ecto shots he had just chugged.

There was really only one hope of help he had left, one he really didn't want to ask.

A new friend he had made at the cafe.

Tim Drake-Wayne, son of Brucie Wayne. The very same Brucie Wayne that was definitely funding Batman's weird night life.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wow this got away from me, honestly was planning on like 500 words. I want to continue this, but if anyone wants to pick it up and play around please feel free to add stuff in the reblogs! I adore reading peoples additions to posts

(As always please please please help me writing tags i never knwo what to do with them, the lack of structure here compared to ao3 confuses me)

[marthawrites]

Devour

Daemon Targaryen x wife reader

Word count: 1.8k+

About: The early days of your moon's blood are always the worst. During your suffering, your husband, the Rogue Prince, takes it upon himself to help ease you.

Includes: FILTHY SMUT. FILTH. Featuring established relationship (husband x wife), Daemon is sweet to his wife, menophilia (aka period kink), menstural cramps, reader is emotional, menstural blood, pussy eating, dirty talk, face/blood licking, and unprotected vaginal sex. I think that's all apologies if I missed anything!

Note: Hello lovely reader! This fic was inspired by my dragon friends ♥ Double warning: Please keep in mind the content of this fic. If you do not like it, do not read this. I've never wrote anything like this before! It was definitely out of my "comfort zone" but I had a lot of fun with it! Reader is implied to have a painful first couple days of her period. Reader is implied to "not have dragon's blood", and she's from an unspecified House. Other than that, reader is non-descript. As always, please enjoy!

Banner made by the incredible and sweet @zaldritzosrose who went above and beyond for this impromptu writing challenge!

Despite leaving it unattended, steam continued to rise from your abandoned bath. Your fingertips were pruned, as were your toes, and your skin bloomed with heat. If you could handle the temperature for even one more minute you’d still be in the tub allowing your husband, the Rogue Prince, to add hot water from the hearth whenever it grew tepid. But, unlike your husband, you didn’t have dragon’s blood; the heat affected you easier than it did him. 

You sat in a chair in front of your vanity, now, patting your skin dry with a warmed towel. Your bath wasn’t one for cleanliness. No, not at this time. It was one for comfort. For relief. A ripe womb was both a blessing and a curse to women. 

The beginning of your moon’s blood was always the worst. It came with cramps and fatigue–neither of which faded for the first day or two. Even though you’d only been sitting for a short time, you knew there’d be a smear of red upon the chair’s protective linens once you stood.

You had been in the bath for nearly an hour. The most divine hour. Not once during that time did you suffer any cramps. Now that you were out, however? You pushed on your lower belly in an attempt to ease the pain, nostrils flaring with it.

“Can I get you anything, sweetling?” Daemon asked in a voice that was both concerned and gentle. 

Shaking your head, you answered, “no, no I don’t think so.”

“Perhaps you should get back into the tub for a bit?”

The sweetness in his tone touched your emotions, and for a moment you had to blink back tears. “The heat makes me faint after so long. I’d hate to make you deal with me passing out while I’m in this…,” you waved a hand, gesturing to yourself, “condition.”

“Come lay down then,” he said easily. He grabbed one of your robes–a lovely cotton piece with a silken sash and delicate embroidery–and walked to you. Helping you into it, he didn’t bother tying it before guiding you to your marital bed.

Smiling softly, you kissed him. “Thank you, husband.”

Daemon pushed you down with care, chasing your warm, soft lips all the while. He loomed above you while supporting himself with one arm. “My poor little wife. You must be very sore today?” He asked, fluttering kisses along your jaw. Your neck.

Goosebumps rose to the top of your skin beneath his affection. There was no doubt Daemon adored you. He had a reputation across King’s Landing, the Stepstones, Pentos, and likely many places between–people and their constant wagging tongues. But, whatever harsh words were said about him, his ambition, hot-temper, and moodiness, your saccharine charm–and occasional fiery tongue–soothed him. He cared for you. Truly. 

“Yes,” you answered. “The Gods punish me for not giving you a little dragon. Only when my womb is full and growing with your babe will these stop. And the pain of bringing your child into the world will be worth it.” Sadness clung to your words. It sent your eyelashes glittering, too, as you looked up at him.

He shushed you. “It will happen. The process of making a child is where all the fun is, anyway,” he said with the twinkle of a wink.

If you had more energy you might argue with him about it. But alas you didn’t. You simply offered a little nod. “I think I’ll rest now. Wake me for supper?”

One of his palms trailed up your side, gripping into the softness of your waist. “Who said anything about resting now?” He asked with a quirk of his fair brow. “Because surely I didn’t.”

The feel of him touching you like this immediately sent a different sort of ache in those low muscles in your belly. It was a marvel how your body always reacted to him. No matter how small or subtle, your senses always bent to him. “Daemon…,” you whispered against his mouth. “What’re you–,”

That same hand lowered from your waist and wandered between your thighs. He knew how to silence your pesky questions. “What kind of a husband would I be if I let you suffer anymore than you need to?”

“...a husband like any other?” You proclaimed half in jest and half in truth.

“And am I a husband like any of these other daft cunts?”

You giggled. “No. You’re Daemon Targaryen, brother of the King and–oh!” His fingers brushed that delicate space between your thighs and you purred. You were always so, so sensitive during your moon’s blood.

“Lay there and look pretty. Let me help in a way that I can,” he said, voice hot and gravely as he lowered to lay between your thighs.

Mortification quickly filled you with the prospect of what he was going to do. He’d never done anything like this before! Not during your cycle! “You needn’t do th–ah!” Whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as your husband’s slid over your clit. Seven Hells he meant to do it and he wasn’t going to let you say no or push him away.

While he’d never done this during your cycle before, he has pleasured you in other ways. He knew how sensitive you were during it. He kept his attention on your bud, circling and flicking over it with lazy laps.

Embarrassment melted into lust as Daemon continued. You hardly knew what to think or do! Was this really happening? Your hips began to slowly grind along with him, cunt seeking further attention and friction.  

“There you are…,” he said, grinning a feral blood-stained grin up at you. His eyes sparkled with dark delight. “Don’t fight it. Let me make you feel good.”

You nearly came at the sight. Holy shit it was so wrong and so… exciting. You gasped in equal pleasure and surprise as his tongue dipped lower than before. Instead of lavishing your pearl again and again, it slid and teased your entrance. Daemon’s groan barely made it to your ears but you felt it against your core. He actually worked his tongue in and out of you. Fucking you with the warm muscle. “G-ods!” You panted, hands flying down to tangle in his hair. 

His hands moved and held firmly onto your hips, wide grip holding onto your ass and hips alike. Your soft flesh yielded to him and he fucking loved the way his fingers dented into your skin. He coaxed you along, letting you ride your bliss on his face; using him as he’s often used your mouth for pleasure.

A metallic scent hung in the air around you. Once again, embarrassment and shame filled you as your hazy mind realized that was your metallic scent. Rich, coppery, thick. Part of you knew he had to be a mess right now–your blood smeared all across his pale Targaryen features. Yet, he never stopped. He could have. Multiple times. He could have used his fingers like he’s done in the past. Or eased his aching cock into your body. But, no. He chose this. He wanted this. Your blood on his tongue, lips, face. The taste of your earthy sweet arousal and coppery lifesblood. No part of you was forbidden to him. He would fucking devour you whole before he let you think there was any part of you not worth his devotion.

Pleasure coiled so tightly in your belly you’d forgotten all about your previous pains. When your bliss peaked, you fell into a beautiful darkness that had you coming back to your body shaky and tingly. 

With uneven breaths, and a lopsided smile of release, you looked down the front of your body just in time to watch Daemon push up. Your husband was fucking magnificent. He looked insane. Crazed. The gleam of his Targaryen eyes zeroed in on you.

“You are the most irresistible creature,” he said, sitting up on his knees before pulling you up to him. 

Your relaxed muscles followed his movement. His smile was a dark, wondrous thing. Blood smeared his mouth, chin, nose. You’d never seen him like this before. You looked up at him, wordless and breathless, eyes communicating everything your mouth couldn’t.

Daemon’s hand wrapped around the front of your throat, holding and forcing your attention on him–as if your attention could be on anything else right now. “Kiss me,” he said. “Lick all your blood off my face like the good little wife you are.”

Tension thrilled throughout your entire body. Your eyes widened at his proposition. You gulped and opened your mouth to say something. But, again nothing came out.

“You heard me. Kiss me and tell me ‘thank you’ for eating your bleeding cunt.”

A sound came from you. A whine. A whimper. Something. And then your mouth was on his. You tasted yourself on him, your arousal and lifesblood, and it sparked something deep inside you. “Thank you,” you breathed against his mouth. Your kiss was all lips and tongue; a needy thing. “Thank you.”

He groaned in satisfaction. “Anything for you,” he said on the edge of humor. He still held your throat, but it was lighter now.

You licked over his lips. It felt… right. To worship him as he worshiped you. You licked up the center of his nose, then across the tip, before kissing over its bridge when it was clean. Your mouths crashed together again and he kissed you as fervently as you did him. It was debauched. Filthy. Yet… with Daemon–your husband–no limits existed.

“What do you say about making this a normal thing, hm?” He asked, releasing your throat to instead squeeze your breasts. Your nipples were already pebbled; eager as the rest of you. He rolled, and pinched, and squeezed the sensitive mounds, knowing how you enjoyed those played with, too.

You nodded wordlessly. The ache at your center roared to life again; lust demanding more. You behaved, though, and began licking over his chin. Your tongue dragged along it, the natural texture and taste of his skin sending yours prickling. He had small traces of your blood on his cheeks, too, and you lapped those away next.

“Such a good wife,” he said, proud. 

Your smile kissed him again. “I feel much better now.”

Smirking like the dragon he was, he pushed you back on the bed. He opened the ties of his breeches until his hard cock sprang free. With your thighs spilled around his waist he wasted no time in slotting between them. The head of his cock pressed against you, your wetness already coaxing him to slide into your body. “Let me in,” he growled.

“Please,” you moaned. “Easy, though. Please.”

He already planned that. Your plea was all he needed. With a push he sunk into you, filling you wholly and completely.  With gentle power, he fucked you until all of those cramping muscles were deeply relaxed. Until you were deeply relaxed.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

Masterlist

See comment section for my main taglist and Daemon taglist! To be added or removed from either, please hit me up!

[daemonsdivorcerock]

THE HEIR WHO NEVER WAS || d.Targaryen

IN WHICH: a decade after the two rogues of house targaryen run away, they live a content life in pentos until they are invited to laena velaryon’s funeral on driftmark and are forced to reunite with their dysfunctional family.

REQUESTED: yes/no

PAIRING: daemon targaryen x fem!reader

AUTHOR’S NOTES: sequel to “taming of the shrew”. i advise that you read that first. also reader is described as having silver hair. meraxes, the dragon of the first rhaenys targaryen, is alive for selfish reasons/j. sorry if this is shit.

WARNINGS: incest (bucket loads), westerosi shenanigans, mentions of death, childbirth, children, daemon being daemon, otto hightower, maiming/bodily injury, angst, fighting, dysfunctional family, targaryen shit etc

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

“THAT’S IT, PRINCESS, ONE MORE PUSH!” the young Pentosi midwife joyfully encourage, crouching at the end of a double bed, the white sheets tarnished with the crimson blood of the Heir Who Never Was.

(Name) panted, chest heaving. Sweat clung to her brow, eyebrows knitted, eyes closed and nose scrunched as her features contorted with pain. Her hands were occupied. One gripping Daemon’s alarmingly pale one in a vice-grip and the other holding her swollen baby bump.

“I AM PUSHING YOU CHILD-LOOKING CUNT!” (Name) shrieked hysterically. Daemon covered his mouth in a failed attempt to conceal his snicker, “DAEMON, SHUT THE FUCK UP! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU ARE NOT BEDDING ME EVER AGAIN, YOU STROPPY SMALL-COCKED GIT!”

The room was soon filled with the loud set of shrieks that the whole castle could here. (Name) began to son happily as Daemon kissed her sweaty brow. “A boy, my Princess,” the midwife happily said, holding the naked, squirming, blood-stained babe in her arms.

“It is all over now, my shrew,” Daemon softy whispered, kissing her temple lovingly, “The babe is safe. He is healthy. He is kicking like a goat. Our son,”.

Minutes later, the Rogue Prince and the Shrew of King’s Landing sat on the bed, doting on their new son. The sound of subtle whispers, odd for their daughters, came from the corridor. The door softly opened, revealing their brood of silver-haired daughters in tow with a servant, Elaine.

“Come here, girls,” (Name) beckoned, smiling happily at her daughters, “Come and meet your younger brother,”.

Their eldest, Daenerys, was mature for an almost eleven-year-old and led her younger sisters. After an encounter in a brothel in the weeks leading up to Rhaenyra’s wedding to Laenor Velaryon, (Name) refused the Moon Tea from the Grand Maester and she hadn’t regretted it.

Daenerys was the eldest of now six children. Aemma, Rhaenys, Alyssa and Rhaella followed their eldest sister. “Girls, this is your brother,” Daemon said, holding three-year-old Rhaella on his lap, whilst five-year-old Alyssa climbed onto the bed with the help of nine-year-old Rhaenys.

Seven-year-old Aemma sat closest to (Name), doting on her brother. “This is Baelon,” (Name) told the girls, gesturing to the slumbering babe in her arms, fondling smiling at the sleeping baby boy.

The girls gushed over their new brother, each getting a turn to gently hold the babe. For none of them knew what the future held for them in the days coming.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

Laena Velaryon was dead. Set herself aflame after failing to give birth. The funeral was in to be held on Driftmark, as she had wanted. She’d left behind her husband, Ser Harwin Strong, and their twin daughters, Baela and Rhaena.

The funeral was teemed with tension and was a sombre occasion as Laena’s stone coffin was lowered into the sea. Laena’s mother Rhaenys looked devastated. Ten years it’d been since (Name) had seen her family. And much had occurred in ten years.

Alicent had bore her father two more sons, Aemond and Daeron. Rhaenyra had bore three sons, Jacaerys, Lucerys and the infant Joffrey, who were in no method possible Laenor’s biological children and had an, as Daemon put it, “entirely coincidental and unmarked resemblance to the Commander of the City Watch”.

After the initial funeral procedures, (Name) had noticed how the girls had made Baela and Rhaena smile a little and how her daughter Rhaenys had taken a shining to Aemond. Daenerys and Aemma were in deep conversation with Helaena. The interactions made her smile.

The girls had yet to meet their cousins, Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Or their aunt, Rhaenyra. Rhaella clung onto (Name)’s skirts, hiding behind the thick, black velvet of the dress’ material.

Baelon was a heavy sleeper, currently residing in his mother’s arms, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took and gave. She’d reunited with her cousins, Rhaenys and Corlys Velaryon, offering her sympathies for what happened to Laena.

As children and teenagers, (Name) had shared a sweet friendship with Laena, comforting her after the events at the Heir’s Tournament all those years before. They’d danced at the celebrations for Laenor and Rhaenyra’s wedding ceremony.

Her father looked terrible. His hair had thinned and he looked frankly horrible. Yet, he somehow gave his eldest daughter a smile. “(Name),” Viserys spoke. His voice sounded heavy as if it pained him to utter the word, “It is…good to you, my daughter,”.

(Name) gave him a half-curtsey, careful not to wake Baelon. “As it is equally good to see you, father,” she spoke, half-smiling, “Ten years. It certainly has been a long time,”.

Daenerys, Rhaenys, Aemma, Alyssa and Rhaella trailed behind their rogue of a father. “Brother,” Daemon greeted, “Time hasn’t been too kind on you,”.

(Name) thought he’d be upset but Viserys laughed slightly at Daemon’s comment. “These are your granddaughters,” (Name) said, “Daenerys, she is ten. Rhaenys is nine. Aemma is seven. Alyssa is five. Rhaella is three,”.

Viserys fondly smiled at each of his granddaughters. “They have their mother’s beauty,” the King mentioned. (Name) noticed how he’d visibly tensed at hearing Aemma and Alyssa’s names but smiled, “Is this my grandson, who cried a little during the precessions?”.

Daemon smirked. “His name is Baelon,” he casually mentioned, causing the king to visibly tense again, “After Father. He was born but three weeks ago,”.

“That was around the same time as when Joffrey was born,” a voice chimed in. Rhaenyra, with her sons,“Sister. Uncle. It is good to see you both again. And meet my nieces and nephew,”.

(Name) was elder than Rhaenyra by a year. Their relationship soured when Rhaenyra was named the heir to the Iron Throne, despite (Name) being Viserys’ eldest child. “Sister,” she smiled, “Those must be my nephews. Jace, Luke and…Joffrey, he’s inside, is he not? They will be good knights, so…Strong,”.

Viserys’ face blanched. Rhaenyra glared whilst the boys looked confused. “Do not take is as an insult, boys,” (Name) spoke in a manner that bordered on mocking, “It is good to be Strong, is it not, sister?”.

Daemon began to snicker. (Name) handed Baelon to Viserys, who held him in his remaining arm. (Name) sharply elbowed Daemon in the ribs, causing him to spill his cup of wine slightly.

Rhaenyra huffed, walking away to speak to Laenor. Luke followed Rhaenyra suit. Jace lingered. “Aunt,” he asked, catching (Name)’s attention, “May I ask you something?”.

“Of course, dear boy,” (Name) spoke, smiling at the brunette boy, “You may ask me whatever you wish,”

“Mother will not be honest with me about this matter…” Jace spoke, nervously fiddling with his fingers, “Am I a…bastard? Is Ser Harwin my father?”.

(Name)’s eyes widened in horror. Was Rhaenyra truly planning to put a bastard on the Iron Throne? She always knew her father was metaphorically blind, but not this blind. She was blatantly aware of her father’s favouritism to Rhaenyra. But she never knew it was this bad.

“Yes,” she spoke quietly, “I cannot believe your mother is not being honest about this to you. Harwin Strong is your father. Laenor is not your father. Nor is he Luke or Joffrey’s father. I am so sorry, dear boy,”.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

Earlier in the day, whilst Daemon was holding Baelon, (Name) found herself skulking around in black velvet after Laena’s casket had been lowered into the ocean.

“Hand turns loom…” the dreamlike voice of her younger sister, Helaena Targaryen, uttered, letting a spider crawl across the skin of her hand, “Spool of Red…Spool of Black…dragons of flesh…weaving dragons of thread,”.

(Name) crouched next to Helaena. “Sister,” Helaena greeted, smiling at her older sister, “May I tell you something?”.

The older woman smiled at her younger sister. “Of course, Hel,” (Name) spoke, “Anything,”.

As an infant, Helaena was restless and cried with her whole being unless she was held by (Name). “I have…strange dreams,” Helaena confessed, “And those dreams…become real as time goes on…do you think that is normal?”.

(Name) placed a hand on Helaena’s shoulder. “My dear Helaena,” she spoke, catching Helaena’s attention from the spider, “It is. You see…many years ago, before the fall of Old Valyria, our ancestor, Daenys, had a dream. She dreamed of the fall of Old Valyria two and ten years before it actually happened,”.

Helaena’s eyes widened, beckoning her sister to continue. “As Targaryens, we are known for our ability to ride dragons. Some Targaryens had the ability to dream of the future. Dragon Dreamers. I am a Dreamer, just like you. My sister, don’t ever let Aegon make you feel inferior without your consent. You are a marvel,”

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

The sun was barely setting when she discovered a horrific sight. Otto Hightower, who’d been reinstated as Hand of the King, was roughing up Aegon, who was half-drunk and slumped against the wall.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Lord Hand?” (Name) spoke, glaring at hole into Otto Hightower’s soul. Her voice had a frightening steeliness to it.

Otto bowed. She truly resented Otto, as a man and as Hand of the King. “Princess,” he greeted, “There is nothing to see here. I suggest you rejoin Prince Daemon inside,”.

She scoffed. “I would rather feed myself to Meraxes than listen to a word you have to say,” (Name) spat, folding her arms, “I know a few dragons who would gladly set you alight, akin to a torch. Caraxes, Meraxes, Vermithor and Silverwing, for instance,”.

Otto visibly tensed. He bowed and walked past her. “Sister,” Aegon drunkenly slurred, as (Name) heaved teenager up from the ground, “-Nice to see you again! I missed you!”.

“I missed you too, Egg,” (Name) smiled to the boy, placing his arm across her shoulders for support and guiding him up the stairs. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed, sweet Prince,”.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

It was the late evening when (Name) had been approached. The events following Laena’s funeral had been drastic. Young Aemond had claimed Vhagar as his mount, causing a fight between him, Jace, Luke, Daenerys, Rhaenys, Aemma, Baela and Rhaena.

It was an honest accident when Daenerys maimed Aemond and caused him to lose and eye. Alicent understood that. What she did not understand was that it was in defence of Jace and Luke’s legitimacy.

It’d blown up into a full-blown fight between Rhaenyra and Alicent, one of which had come at the other with a Valyrian Steel Dagger belonging to Aegon the Conqueror. (Name) had stepped in and gotten cut across the bridge of her nose.

There was a sharp knock at the door, catching both the attentions of the Rogue Prince and the Shrew of King’s Landing. “Enter,” (Name) spoke. The doors opened, revealing the visage of Otto Hightower.

Daemon blanched. “Lord Hand,” he bitterly spoke, “Have you come to darken our door for the ordeal earlier?”.

Otto sent a steely glare Daemon’s way, causing the Rogue Prince to mockingly smirk at him. “I have not, Daemon,” Otto spoke. Alicent stood behind him, guiltily staring at (Name), “I have come to speak to Princess (Name),”.

This caught (Name)’s attention, who was rocking Baelon softly in her arms, their daughters had since retired to the guest chambers with Baela and Rhaena hours prior. “Speak plainly, Lord Hand,” (Name) commanded coolly, briefly making eye contact with Ser Criston Cole, “What brings to you my chambers at this time of night?”.

“I believe we are…aligned,” Otto mused, adjusting the pin on his emerald-coloured lapel, making Daemon scoff, “In our beliefs in regards to the legitimacy of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons and the line of succession,”.

He was putting salt into the all the right wounds. (Name) was still evidently bitter about her younger sister being named heir over her and her plans to put her bastard son on the throne.

“My father is a fool,” (Name) confessed, softly stroking Baelon’s silver-coloured tufts of hair, “Nothing would change that. He is blind to the truth. Rhaenyra is his favourite child and nobody can deny that. He cannot accept the truth that Jace, Luke and Joffrey are bastards,”.

Otto smirked. “What if it did not have to be that way?” Alicent asked. This made (Name) glance at her stepmother, “What if another were to inherit the throne after the King’s passing?”.

“How would you like to be Queen, (Name)?” The Hand of the King quickly asked, making (Name) glance at Daemon, holding Baelon closer to her chest.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back || D. Targaryen x oc (Dear Motherhood Series)

GIF by me :) pls give cred if used DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: After Aegon experienced a near death experience under the lack of supervision of Daemon, a heated convo between Leyla and him soon follows.

Dear Motherhood Series Masterlist

“Stop that Baelon,” Daemon warned the young boy but still, he continues to bang his toy against the wall, creating a loud noise. Daemon was in Leyla’s solar, all three kids there with him and 2 handmaidens with the children.

The banging noise still continued as Daemon became more agitated. “I said stop it Baelon!” He yelled, slamming his hand on the table making all the kids flinch and stare at their father with wide eyes. The handmaidens too were surprised at Daemon’s loudness, especially because he rarely ever yelled at the children.

“Listen to what I tell you the first time,” He snaps as Baelon looks down, Alyssa sitting beside him rubs his shoulder in comfort. Daemon sighs, rubbing his forehead. He didn’t mean to yell at his son. His head was swarming with thoughts. Thoughts about how it was his fault that Aegon was so close to being seriously injured, or worst dead.

Leyla wasn’t feeling well in the morning so Daemon too responsibility of looking after the children during breakfast. It wasn’t hard to do and yet he still managed to fuck it up by not paying attention to Aegon who crawled his way to the descending stairs. Thank the gods Alicent was walking past and saw the young boy one step away from falling.

A knock comes from the double doors, “Come in,” Daemon calls out. It was one of Leyla’s handmaidens. “Lady Leyla wishes to see you, my Prince,” She bows before leaving. Daemon stared at the empty space where the handmaiden once stood.

He lets out a breath before standing up and walking over to where Alyssa, Baelon and Aegon sat playing with their toys. “Behave please,” He says before kissing each of their foreheads and ruffling Baelon’s hair.

Daemon knew that Leyla was beyond mad. He didn’t blame her, after all, it was his fault for not paying attention and letting Aegon come to a near death experience. Walking the familiar route to the nursery, he walked into the room without knocking.

He shut the door behind him before looking at Leyla. Their newborn, Alys, in her arms, crying. He watched as she rocked her to soothe her down. Her back facing Daemon.

“What were you thinking?” She spat, her face red. Daemon couldn’t find it in himself to say anything, so instead, he only kept his gaze to the floor. Angered at the lack of response, Leyla brings her hand up and slaps Daemon’s face, her hand tingling.

Daemon rolls his tongue against his cheek before meeting eyes with his wife. “It was a simple mistake-“ “A simple mistake?” She scoffed, “The handmaidens should have been keeping an eye on him as-“ “Do not blame the handmaidens for your mistake Daemon. I trusted you with looking after the children! How can I do that know when Aegon nearly fell down the stairs and could have died. All because of what? Rhaenyra was it?” She fumed, Leyla’s eyesight were blurred by the tears that formed in her eyes.

It pained her that her son was near close to death, thank god Alicent quickly took Aegon before he took another step. It pained her even more that Daemon was there and did not pay attention to their child.

She was told by her handmaidens that Rhaenyra had arrived, he carelessly went to greet her whilst leaving Aegon one step away from the steps that descended. “Thank the Gods that my sister was walking past,” She muttered, shaking her head.

“I would never forgive myself if something happened to Aegon, or to any of our children for that matter” Daemon quietly spoke as Leyla looked at him. “Neither would I, Husband,” She said through gritted teeth as Daemon looked at Leyla. “If you didn’t go and greet Rhaenyra, none of this would have happened in the first place!” She shouted, frustrated at her husband.

“Like I said, it was a mistake Leyla!” Daemon groaned, pulling at his hair as he starts to pace around the nursery. “A mistake that could have cost us our child!” She fired back, this time, hot tears had managed to cascade down her rosy cheeks. “I know, I know, hey- listen to me Leyla,” Daemon takes ahold of Leyla’s face.

“I am so fucking sorry. And I love you, so so much, and our beautiful children,” He softly says, his forehead against hers as he looks down at Alys before making eye contact with Leyla. “You can’t just push your children aside when Rhaenyra appears, Daemon.” He moves away from him and to the crib to lay Alys down.

“I know you haven’t seen her in some time, but do not forget your children whenever she’s there,” She bites her lips softly, looking down at Alys who’s looking right up at her. “I know that and I am so sorry,” He engulfs her in a hug from behind, his arms protectively wrapping themselves around her small figure.

Leyla lets out a sigh before caving in and leaning her head against Daemon’s chest.

~

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@writtingforfun @bellstwd @sesamepancakes @bunbunbl0gs @ajthefujoshi @mxtokko @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Miscarriage, death of a foetus, blood, depression, anger, angst, grief.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello sweethearts, please read the trigger warnings for this one. Tread carefully as always, and I love you all. I have absolutely LOVED seeing you all talking and thinking and even plotting on what is happening! Makes me so happy <3

Chapter 91: The Absence of Three

Aemond escorted you back to your chambers as you whimpered and hissed in pain. It was so overwhelming, and unlike anything you felt before. The pain came in waves, and it felt like your hips were being crushed together, your whole core clenching in agony. 

Aemond kept asking you what was wrong, kept whispering to you what was happening, and each time he came to your side as you clutched the back of the chaise, another wave crashing through you, you grit your teeth and pushed him away with a curse.

“I shall fetch the Maester.”

“He’s dead.” You growled, hands rubbing against the front of your dress as anxiety climbed higher and higher within you.

“I shall fetch the other.”

“No.” You snipped, doubling over again. 

And then you felt it.

Something wet and warm between your legs which felt familiar and foreign all at once. But you knew. Of course you knew. Because your body knew.

Aemond watched in confusion as you reached a hand beneath your skirts, grunting as you moved under the different layers. 

Just as you mother once had.

Your fingertips pressed against the warm, wetness, and with slow movements, you brought it back out and away, your hand hovering in front of you. 

But you knew. 

You already knew.

They were covered in blood. 

“What’s happening?” Aemond asked, spotting the blood.

But it was too late.

And you knew.

And he knew that too, but he was in denial. A sick and twisted attempt to undo what had been done, to have faith in his precious Seven that the child would be saved.

But deep down, he knew, just as you did.

It felt like the day your mother had lost your sister. Now only you in her place.

Is this what she had felt? Was this the agony she had endured?

But Rhaenyra's pregnancy was further along than yours, and she had to give birth to the body of your sister who was already still. 

Would you face the same fate?

Agony rolled through you again, and you sobbed. Aemond rushed to your side, holding your back and one arm as you grunted. You squeezed his hand as the pain did not let up, nor ease.

As if thinking he could help, the fool that he was, the man that he was, for men don't truly know the horrors of being a woman, Aemond raced towards the door and called for the knight to bring the Maester.

You laughed humourlessly at him, watching as he turned around in confusion, your knuckles white against the back of the chaise.

“It’s too late.” You sobbed angrily, pushing away from the chaise as you stumbled towards the wardrobe, bending over as your hand reached behind it, Aemond watching with a hawklike expression. 

“What are you doing?” His brows were furrowed from across the room, rooted to the spot as he watched you rummage at a wall.

“Something I should have done in the first place.” You spat back at him, pain, and anger, and grief moving through you. Your fingers finally found what they were looking for, grazing the small vial that you had wedged there, not too long ago. 

Aemond took slow steps towards you, suspicion in his eye as you whimpered once again. With great determination, you pulled the vial from the wall, uncorking it with your teeth and bringing it to your lips.

The ruta root slid down the vial and into your waiting mouth. 

Aemond stormed towards you, snatching the vial from your hand as he looked at it. You chewed hastily and swallowed, ignoring the foul taste on your tongue.

Aemond looked ready to break, his hand grasping your cheeks painfully, forcing you to open your mouth as his eye searched inside, finger following to try and feel or scoop what you had eaten, only to find nothing but remnants of the root. 

“What have you done?” He asked in a rush, panic in his voice.

He thought you were trying to kill yourself.

“Ensured that it’s dead.” You sneered, the vile, bitter taste of the root on your tongue.

“What?” Aemond breathed, “Where did you get that?” The Prince panicked, looking at the vial in his hand once more as he turned it over rapidly.

“A parting gift from our Maester.” You grit, pushing away from him, and limping back towards the fire.

You stood by the chaise again, leaning against its back as your fingers dug into the wood. You bent forward, hand against your stomach in pain as another wave of agony rolled through you. 

Aemond rushed towards you, trying to guide you to sit, but you slapped his hands away, irritation and pain and anger continuing to swallow you whole. The Prince stood and stared at you with his brow drawn, obvious fear in his eye as he watched you whimper and whine. 

It was all too much. All too much.

Everything was too much. But your body took over, inhaling deeply despite your lungs feeling withered, and your throat feeling shut. A pain that came from nowhere and everywhere at once. Something that was concentrated and spread out, as though it was creeping up along your spine and into your ribcage.

Aemond moved from your periphery as another sob left your lips, a tear falling from your eye to drip onto the stone below.

When he came back to you, he did it carefully, whispering your name to coax you to look at him. And so you did. You looked at him with watery eyes, and a face full of agony and grief, and eyes flickering with rage.

Slowly, as though approaching a startled animal, Aemond lifted his hand. In his palm was a small cloth. A handkerchief or napkin, or perhaps even just a scrap of material. You did not know, nor did you care, as he moved to gently wipe at your face, swiping the light sheen of sweat that had gathered on your brow, and the stray tears that streaked down your cheeks.

Aemond waited for the Maester to arrive, tension in his shoulders as he hovered about you, unsure of how to tend to you as waves of contractions wracked your body.

“You did this.” You whispered, not looking at him, eyes locked on the fire place, where two dearly missed figures had begun to appear, “We lost the babe because of you.”

It was all a blur when the new Maester arrived, ordering you to lay in bed as he tried to give you Moon Tea to help with the continuation of the miscarriage. But you refused it,  pushing it away from you, knowing the ruta root would do the job.

Aemond had ensured the Maester that he would get you to drink it, and had spoken quietly to him at the side of the room as to what to do if you became worse, or pale, or fevered with chill.

It was, in that moment, that you realised that this was the Maester that had once had sewn his face shut. A Maester who had tended to Aemond and his healing. A Maester that Aemond clearly trusted. 

You lay in the bed in pain, feeling the wet blood between your thighs as you cried quietly.

It felt so familiar. To be in that bed, crying and bleeding.

Was it a curse? Was this what you were destined to? To be burdened with the pain of being a woman?

To be born a woman is to be cursed.

Another wave coursed through you and you curled on your side, clutching at your stomach as you tried to hum to yourself softly, anything to distract yourself from the pain that slid through you like a knife, your body reacting on its own, clenching and tensing. 

Aemond sat himself on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he watched you cry and groan, shifting with the pain as your body began to get the urge to push.

It was so strange. It was just as Alicent said.

Your body would know what to do. 

But it was too early.

And it was too late. 

And the child that had begun to grow within you was gone.

Aemond brushed the hair that had stuck to your face from your sweat or tears, hushing you as the contractions rolled through you hotly.

You sobbed, grasping his hand as you squeezed, hoping to channel the pain through him.

“I’m sorry.”

-

The next days blurred together, and you found that you barely had the strength to leave the bed. The pain slowly subsided, but the sorrow had burrowed its way inside of you like mould. No matter how much you had tried to scrub it free, it would always come back.

The Maester had come to check on you multiple times a day, checking your condition, and ensuring that you passed the embryonic tissue completely.  

It was after the third day that you found the strength to leave the bed. And it made you ache even more for you mother, as she lost her father, the throne and her daughter all in one day. She had to burn her daughter, and stand before the council, all in one day. She was crowned, all in one day.

She was stronger than you. 

Stronger than most.

And you wished she was here. 

As you shifted amongst the sheets, you moved to stand, but the sound of the sheets rustling caused Aemond to jump from his seat, padding across the chambers towards you as he offered you an arm, and held the top of yours gently. 

Whincing, you shied away from his touch, “Please, don’t.”

“Let me help you.” Aemond insisted, and reached to try and grab your arm again.

Anger erupted from you, “You’ve helped plenty.” You snapped.

You moved slowly, grasping a cloak from its spot in the wardrobe, throwing it over your shoulders before slowly shuffling out of the chambers.

Pain was still in your body, grief was still in your chest. 

You moved down to the Godswood, where you would always go and sit. To talk to the Gods. To talk to yourself. To simply be. But all you could do was think.

Did you do this to yourself?

When you thought of such things beneath its branches?

When you thought of losing the child to spite him?

Had you wished for this and the Gods had delivered?

That silken stillness of grief was back.

The leaves above you were quiet, no breeze to rustle them, nor birds to sing amongst their branches. It was all so quiet. So still. The world seemed to have stopped. Or it had stopped for you.

You sat for a time in your grief beneath the leaves of the Godswood, wondering what your child could have been, what they would have been like.

But it was not just the child that had been lost. You sat with the knowledge that the Maester was no longer here. And your allies in the Keep had dwindled dramatically. 

Perhaps now, more than ever, was the time to ask for the star fruit. 

But the eyes on you would be sharper right now, and your movements had to be more calculated and secretive moving forward.

They would all be waiting to you to act.

Or waiting for your family to react. 

It was no longer as safe as you thought at the Red Keep.

Not that it ever really was. 

Beneath the shade of the Godswood was where you sat until a familiar head of chestnut brown came to stand before you, a usual vision of green.

Alicent looked down at you sadly, and gave her shallow condolences.

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, keeping your eyes to the branches of the tree instead of letting them drop to the woman before you.

If you looked down, you were sure tears would spill over. 

“How are you faring?” She asked tentatively, tone gentle.

All that the Dowager Queen got in response, was a soft rustle of the breeze and the silence of nothing. She stood for a moment more, if only waiting for your resolve to break, for you to turn and face her, seek her out as a daughter, like the one she was missing. 

But you didn’t. 

And so the older woman left you to be alone with the Old Gods.

You counted your breaths, and mentally filled the cracks in your chest with a thick, goopy paste, similar to the one the Maester had given you.

You thought of each stroke of your hand, filling in the gaps with the paste until there was nothing left to show. As though the cracks were never there to begin with.

Each stroke of the paste you counted, and each stroke you inhaled deeply.

On the twenty-seventh stroke in your mind, the twenty-seventh breath in your lungs, and the twenty-seventh count in your head, the gentle sound of feet atop grass pulled your attention away from the mental image and repetitive motions.

But the person did not come to stand in front of you, nor did they move to stand beside you, or even pass through the small courtyard. Instead, the feet stopped on the opposite side of the tree, and the rustling of robes indicated they had sat down beneath the Godswood.

Just by the action alone, a habit, muscle memory, memory itself, you knew it was him. 

Aemond had sat beneath the crimson leaves and white speckled bark of the ancient Weirwood tree, behind you and hidden away, much like how he did as a child. And though, you could not see him, you could feel his presence greatly.

It struck a cord in your already string plucked chest.

“I did not tell Larys.” He whispered to you, voice almost lost to the wind.

“I told no one of what you did.” Your uncle paused, and you rested you head back against the bark, looking up into the shadowed sky, “He must have found out through his spiders.”

And once again, you believed him. 

It wasn’t him.

He had not told Aegon.

Larys had.

You are both silent for some time, basking in the familiarity of it all until you heard him shift, and soon a shadow was cast across you, for however brief it was, before he sat himself down. His shoulder gently brushed against yours as he sat close to you, yet made no move to touch you with his hands. 

And you were thankful for it.

As you sat in the silence, your mind raced away from you again, the sticky paste that you had crammed into the cracks, slowly dripped away to reveal them once more. With each drip of the paste, another crack was revealed, and with each crack revealed, another chip of your resolve crumbled away.

You realised that Larys didn’t care for Alys. 

You had threatened him, and told him there were things that he didn’t know in your stupidity. In your anger. And in your moment of triumph against him;

You had hinted that you had an ally. 

And so he had spun his web, and waited for his prey to lay a foot on one of his strings.

The Maester got caught in the web that was crafted to catch him.

You sat shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the branches together in the quiet knowing of your shared loss. Another thing that you would both endure. Another piece of grief to bring you two closer together.

“I don’t think I can survive much more loss, Aemond.” You whispered, surprising yourself to find your voice.

The One-Eyed Prince turned his head to finally look at you, hand coming to your lap to hold yours, touching the scar from the ceremony gently as he always did, almost as if he doesn’t believe that it is real.

As if he doesn’t believe that it is there. 

That he would wake up one day, and you would be gone.

“I am sorry for my part in it.” His voice was steady.

Your heart clenched.

“No you’re not, because you wouldn’t let me suffer the way you do.” The words passed your lips, gentle and quiet, fragile as snow, the words lingering in delicate silk around you. A fatal movement of a hand could cause them to break, to crumple and fall apart. Even the breeze could blow too steadily, and whisk the silk threads away. 

But they held strong. And they hovered above the two of you heavily.

“I am truly alone in this Keep.” You breathed.

You could feel Aemond’s eye on the side of your face, his hand tightening around yours.

“You are not alone.” He countered, head turned to look at you completely.

A small laugh escaped you, too tired to hold it in, too weary to stamp it out, and so you let it be, let it crackle from your dry lips that were bitten raw.

You looked down to where he held your hand. A hand that had hurt you. A hand that had taken from you. A hand that had given. A hand that had held, and caressed, and stroked. A hand that now loved, and cherished you.

The hand of the man who has so many sides.

“You and I both know that that is not the truth,” You confessed, “As much as we both wish otherwise.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[orbital-obvious]

Throwing my hat to the Team Black/Green Discourse

I'm bad bound due to shoulder pain, and I've been reading Team Black/Green takes and you guys, it's so fun. Here are my personal takes:

While exploring the changes from the book (and the reasons those changes were made) is interesting in a meta way, you can't assume book only details apply to show characters. What you see is what you get, for better or for worse

The show clearly favors Rhaenyra and tries to weave this "girlboss won't let the MEN put her down" narrative, and at the same time does her a great disservice because Rhaenyra and her faction are boring as fuck as a result. The greens faults are not only acknowledged but highlighted - which make them more interesting, human, and multidimentional, but then again the narrative goes and minimizes their fears and hurt, so, well, double edged sword.

Aegon only cares for his legitimate children. I also don't think the greens as half as unified as they are precived to be.

The question of "Did Aemond steel Vaghar?" is actually "are dragons property?" with extra steps.

Aegon was a usurper, and the Greens (Otto, if we're real) used the inherent misogyny of Westeros to instill him on the throne.

WITH THAT BEING SAID, I have a hard time thinking Rhaenyra is this feminist queen. It's freedom for Rhaenyra, and maybe other women with dragons. I think it makes Rhaenyra a better character, actually.

How can Alicent or her children trust Rhaenyra which never acknowledged that Luke maimed Aemond, and acutally DEMANDED Aemond to be further hurt via questioning? The messege in Driftmark was clear: Rhaenyra (and by extention, her children) are more important than you, they can hurt you, maim you, even kill you, and you will STILL be at fault. There's an element of survival in the Green's usurpation, not only greed.

Rhaenyra suffers from misogyny. I don't think she would have no problem ascending the throne if she were a man and she is one of the most privileged people in the realm, but there are challenges she faces for the crime of being a woman alone.

I don't think Alicent thought that by serving the patriarchy she'll be the exepction - not consciously, anyway. I think this requires an understanding she does not possess. and, again, Rhaenyra being put on the throne isn't a big win to all women, just Rhaenyra. To side with Rhaenyra meant siding against her family -that was Alicent's decision in my eyes. The world is bleak and one must use any power that they have - same way Targaryan used dragons, Alicent + greens used the built in sociatal norms.

I don't know who needs to hear this, Aemond is not a little kid anymore. I'm not saying his life is perfect and no one is mistreating him, but he is not defenseless and he does have that cruel streak to him and he did very much undermines his brother, grandfather, and mother.

Aegon is implosive, Rhaenyra hardly acts. Aegon coronation started the war, and his decisions have propelled the war forward . Rhaenyra refusal to act pushed team black into a position where the only advantage they had was dragons, ergo, they had to get dragons involved and voila- bloodshed.

Daemon would not have let the Greens live, even if they had bent the knee. TBF, Daemon would probably find a way to kill Rhaenyra's older children to put his on the throne. "Rhaenyra would never allow this!" Rhaenyra can't control Daemon. We've seen it time and time again.

I really hate the "Rhaenyra put her children at risk because their bastards". Rhaenyra was married to a gay (possibly infertile) man and if she had no heirs of her own, it itself would weaken her claim more than having bastards (ask if most of the realm would know or even give a shit they are not legitimate - that's mostly house Valeryon's problem and people in their immidiate surroundings that see it as "immoral").

No, Rhaenyra did not put her children at risk for having bastards. She put her chidlren at risk by having trueborn, perfectly blond and Targeryan children with Daemon.

I said it in my last post, I'll say that again: Raehnyra fucking off to an undercover mission in King's Landing and not telling ANYONE about it was a dumb move in a list of dumb move. She essentially left her side without a ruler at a time of WAR, not to mention the panic of a queen being gone closely after an assassination attempt on her life that was barely stopped.

Alicent was one of the most powerful people (if not the most powerful) in the years leading up to Viserys death, practically running the kingdom while Rhaenyra never visited even once. Alicent was changing Kings landing in her own image (changing Targ decoration for the Seven symbolism). Alicent had power, authority and the ability to rule that neither Rhaenyra nor Rhaenys exhibited.

Viserys failed Rhaenyra for not teaching her how to cement her throne and make connections and allies. Rhaenyra grew into an adult who never had to fight for what she was given, a so called heir who sceluded herself in Dragonstone and never bothered to cement her claim which she would have needed to do even if she was born a man. The cycle continues, with the hints she never worried about securing Jace's spot or his legitimecy (Jace wanted to learn high Valerian and was clearly concerened, Rhaenyra doesn't see the issue and that itself is a problem)

Honestly kudos for Jace for securing the North/Vale. The show paints supporting Rhaenyra as "the right thing" and we never got to see Jace working and using his diplomatic skills. God forbid the boy will have a personality.

Criston Cole was a man of ethnic minority (Dornish, most cast is Andal/Valerian) from lower class and the power imbalance with Rhaenyra would not have flown if the roles would've been reversed. She pushed him to sully his own life work (becoming kingsguard) and he is right to be hurt about her not taking it as seriously as him - she does not have to face consequences, he does. I'm not even talking about the weird state of consent of the relations between them.

WITH THAT BEING SAID, that does NOT justify Criston Cole calling Rheanyra "Whore" and "Cunt". He uses her gender to hurt her - the only power imbalance in his favour in this relationship is him being a man and her being a woman, and he weaponizes it. "but it's accurate to the society he lives in!" cool, the society is shit.

There's probably more, but I'm tired and need to lie down. So. yeah. Feel free to comment, I'm interested in others thought about it.

[ksharoly]

Targaryen incorrect quotes.

y/n: I told daemon their ears flush when they lie.

rhaenyra : Why?

y/n: Look.

y/n: Hey daemon ! Do you love us?

daemon , covering their ears: No.

rhaenyra :

y/n: Well, remember when rhaenyra made a romantic dinner for me?

daemon : y/n, they microwaved you a pizza.

y/n: Come on, I wasn't that drunk last night.

daemon : You were flirting with rhaenyra .

y/n: So what? They're my partner.

daemon : You asked them if they were single.

y/n:

daemon : And then you cried when they said they weren't.

y/n, driving aegon and aemond : So how was your day?

aegon : We almost got surprise adopted!

y/n: What?

aemond : We almost got kidnapped.

y/n: Oh, okay.

y/n: * slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

y/n: Are you sure this is the right direction?

aegon : Certainly, I'm as sure as I am honest!

aemond : In that case, we're definitely lost.

y/n: What time is it?

aegon : I don't know; pass me that saxophone and we'll find out

aegon : * Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune*

aemond : WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING

aegon : It's 2 am

y/n: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?

jacaerys : You're a hazard to society

lucerys : And a coward. DO TWENTY.

Aemond : In your opinion, what's the height of stupidity?

jacaerys : * turning to lucerys * How tall are you?

Aemond : WHY. why did you give lucerys a KNIFE?!

jacaerys : I'm sorry.They said they felt unsafe.

Aemond : Now I feel unsafe!

jacaerys : I'm sorry.

jacaerys : ...would you like a knife?

Aemond : Why does jacaerys always do the laundry so loudly?

lucerys : So everyone knows that no one helps them out in the house.

jacaerys , in the distance: * slams the washing machine shut*

y/n: Just be yourself.

daemon : 'Be myself'? y/n, I have one day to win rhaenyra over.How long did it take before you guys started liking me?

alicent : Couple weeks.

viserys : Six months.

aegon : Jury's still out.

daemon : See, y/n?

daemon : 'Be myself'.What kind of garbage advice is that?

y/n: daemon is too tall for me to kiss them on the lips. What should I do?

alicent : Punch them in the stomach.Then, when they double over in pain, kiss them.

viserys : Tackle them!

rhaenyra : Dump them.

aegon : Kick them in the shin!

daemon : No to all of those! Just ask me to lean down!!

y/n, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here.

daemon : Hey.

rhaenyra : Hi.

alicent : Hello.

viserys : Hey!

y/n: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only!

aegon : We were out of Doritos.

daemon : If you got arrested what would be the charges?

viserys : Theft.

aegon : Disturbing the peace.

alicent : Aggravated assault.

y/n: Arson.

rhaenyra : All of the above.In that order, probably.

[aryas-faces]

Ranking Season 2 Episodes

1) Episode 4: The Red Dragon and the Gold

The only episode I came away from thinking, “That was amazing.” This episode is Aegon’s arc to this point coming to a head; his council is making decisions and corresponding to each other without including him, everyone humiliating him and being callous to his emotions, and when he speaks to Alicent, she double downs what everyone else says: Aegon is useless and will never be a good King so let her and the council be in charge. And this sends Aegon spiraling; so he desperately tries to prove himself and gets betrayed by the person he trusts the most in the world: his younger brother. It is an incredible character arc, the best of the season, and to be honest, I think it elevates the book which says Aegon is fearful, feeling vulnerable, and in over his head, the one part if the show that really expands on the book. I know that some people don’t like what this episode does with Aemond, I don’t mind it. Aemond is a psychopath in the book, and it’s kinda vague if he meant to hurt Aegon or not. The build up to the battle is incredible and emotional and I love how it focuses just on Aegon and Rhaenys and their dragons, the victims of the battle. The battle itself is intense: I was full body shaking during it. The aftermath is also horrifying, seeing the horrors a dragon is capable of. The only down side of this episode is that they try to give Rhaenyra a divine reason to go to war to sanitize her

2) Episode 1: A Son for a Son

Blood and Cheese ruined what otherwise is a good episode. Aegon is hilarious in this episode, Rhaenyra looking for Lucerys’ remains was heartbreaking and than terrifying when she returned to her council looking crazed and wanting blood to spill because of this with villain music behind her (back when I still had hope we were getting book Rhaenyra.) but of course, B&C being ruined puts a stain on the episode

3) Episode 2: Rhaenyra the Cruel

Oh the title of this. The sarcasm/propaganda of it told me we were never getting book Rhaenyra, especially with how she reacts to Blood and Cheese in sadness. I hate the propaganda angle they took with B&C when it really was because of Rhaenyra and Daemon. However, the acting of the Greens this episode is the all around best acting all season. Rhys is cold and calculating and manipulative. Phia is horrified and devastated. Olivia is depressed and guilty. And this is just straight up Tom’s Emmy episode. His rage and grief and despair is so real

4) Episode 7: The Red Sowing

The public shaming of Daemon is enough to make this the best of the Black episodes. Maybe I’m weird, but in isolation, I love the Alicent in the lake scene. It was artsy. Aegon trying to recover is so heartbreaking and his pain is so visceral. The sowing is straight out of a horror movie. The seeds for Rhaenyra the Cruel have planted in this episode, now they need to go through with it (I doubt they will)

5) Episode 3: The Burning Mill

The Green council scene is great, everything with Aegon is great (as usual. he’s the only consistent great this season). I love the shot of him looking in the mirror and half his face is in the dark, foreshadowing his fate. I like Baela hunting the Green army, it’s intense. However, the Septa Rhaenyra scene is GOT season 7 level bad. At least Alicent told her to go fuck off

6) Episode 6: Smallfolk

Why are the smallfolk starving? Why are they blaming Aegon when in ep 1 he was trying to help? Why are they saint-ifying Rhaenyra when she’s the reason they’re starving? Why are they attacking Alicent and Helaena when they’re supposed to be beloved? Why are Rhaenyra and Mysaria kissing when they barely have a bond? At least we get great scenes of Aegon, and Alicent being gentle with his body as she cries and says sorry

7) Episode 5: Regent

WHY IS DAEMON MAKING OUT WITH HIS MOM?! Why is Alicent having a panic attack about not being Regent and not Aegon? Why are they focusing on the Blacks when the Greens have so much more plot and character potential with post Rook’s Rest? I love the sad, heroic, tragic music they played behind Aegon being brought back, and his “mummy” was soul crushing and stole the episode

8) Episode 8

I’m not calling it the queen who ever was. What a shit show. Sexually humiliating Aegon (and putting Tom in uncomfortable situations), the stupid flash forwards with Daemon, “Winter is Coming” gave me visceral cringe (they better not make it so that it’s the Stark words because Rhaenyra said it to them, they better fucking not). The character assassination of Alicent is one of the worst I’ve ever seen. The only good is Tom still putting his heart and soul into Aegon even when saying lines designed humiliate him. And Criston’s lines about dragon battle

[lesbianforlottie]

double helaena's pain and give it to aemond and daemon

[noeverse]

Lady Aurynn Mormont and Lord Rodrik Mormont, a brief story according to Maester Eustace;

Despite Aurynn being the eldest, she was never once treated as the heir of Bear Island, but rather her younger brother Rodrik. Both grew up in different circles: where her ladyship was proud, fierce and cautious, Rodrik was hedonistic, strong-tempered and highly ambitious. Having been left orphaned at just 14 and 11, their guardian, not having economic means to raise them both, sent the young, pretty Aurynn to be raised among Princess Rhaenyra's children, a promise to one day attend the much desired daughter of the princess. During that time, Aurynn made lifelong connections, such as her future husband Jacaerys, the Dragon Twins and many of the princess' party. She was probably the most comely and lovely of the girls at the princess' court, with a sharp wit, incredible sense of humour that delighted the princess and an unique fashion sense, for her hair was so long she could very well sit on it and was often in complex coiffeurs, and favoured purple and navy blue, as well as expensive fur made from the fiercest bears of Bear Island, a yearly gift from her lord brother as a way of ensuring that she didn't forget her house. At age sixteen, Princess Rhaenyra changed her chess pieces and instead married the beloved and most elegible Aurynn to Jacaerys, and Baela would marry her brother Rodrik instead.

It took Prince Daemon a while to accept this, but after cunning Aurynn wrote a witty and comedic poem to the couple, he accepted her and asked her to love well his son, which she bowed deeply and promised to give his grace nothing but the very best. The double wedding was celebrated three weeks after, and the prince seemed enamored by his bride, which surprised nobody. Baela seemed reluctant because of Rodrik's hedonistic and queer lifestyle, but the morning of their first day as a married couple dropped to his knees before his in-laws and declared that the moment he was promised to Baela he had sworn off such boyish behaviour and would be a new, better man for her, which delighted the couple.

Soon, Aurynn was with child, and Prince Jacaerys, overjoyed, asked for his mother for a joust in such honour, which she gladly granted. Lady Aurynn proved to take pregnancy with poise and grace worthy of a future queen, and if she payed any mind to the symptoms, she said no such thing aloud.

Prince Jacaerys was sent to fight some battles in his mother's name, and kissing heavily pregnant child goodbye, went off to war. Rodrik accompanied him, not before announcing alongside Baela that they too were expecting their first child. Sadly, Prince Jacaerys perished, and everyone at Dragonstone heard Dowager Princess Aurynn's howls of pain. Fearing that the Greens could target her, Rodrik asked the Sea Snake for a strong ship to carry to safety the heir and its mother to impenetrable Bear Island.

Lord Cregan Stark, fulfilling his promise to Prince Jacaerys, started to march down, and heard of the famed beauty Princess Aurynn having stopped in the Riverlands after escaping a storm, and demanded to meet the princess whose beauty couldn't be kept from every man's mouth, and when he saw her, he was struck by her beauty and intelligence, and instead offered Winterfell as a refuge, reminding the princess of the bond with her late husband, which she accepted.

Now leaving for Winterfell, the dowager princess went into labour three days after arriving to Winterfell to a beautiful baby girl, whom she named Visenya Velaryon, and was healthy enough to write to Queen Rhaenyra about how the princess had the late Prince's sweet features and soft brown hair. Sadly, said joy was short-lived, for the babe contacted an illness that killed her in her mother's arms. Her wails of pain and sorrow were heard all over Winterfell, and felt all along the north. Not even sweet Sara Snow's comforts could cure the princess' pain.

During the Hour of the Wolf, Rodrik and Baela, alongside their baby daughter Laena were held hostage by King Aegon II, and chained, for they feared that they might attack the king in an organised attack.

After the deaths of both Queen Rhaenyra and King Aegon, Rodrik was brought into question by Cregan himself, and he, having learned the cunning ways of his sister, used Lord Stark's feelings for his lady sister as a way of getting away from a punishment, and was sent back to Bear Island with a large fine and the promise of Aurynn's hand in marriage in exchange of him giving up Alyssane Blackwood.

Cregan Stark rode back to Winterfell, looking forward marrying Princess Aurynn, to whom upon arriving, went straight to her bedchambers and dropped to his knees and swore love and fealty to her, declaring he had loved her from the moment they first spoke. She accepted with the condition that he never once involved himself in such wars unless it affected Winterfell. Three months later, having recovered from childbirth, they both were married in a lavish wedding, for Lord Cregan paid no expense. One could tell he was deeply enamored by Princess Aurynn, and she had begun to love him as well.

They were married for a decade and four years, Aurynn delivering a child every year, but only four daughters survived infancy: Lyanna, Shireen, Judynn and Ayrin Stark. Lord Cregan loved them very much, but many feared that he had only one heir. Indeed, Rickon's death changed him, for Lady Aurynn caught Cregan red-handed with his distant cousin and who would be his third and last wife. After a heavy argument, Aurynn packed essentials and sailed towards King's Landing, where she exposed King Aegon III her case for a divorce, a formal separation at best. Aegon, seeing that she had no male sons and Cregan had been unfaithful, compared to virtuous and beloved Aurynn, accepted the divorce and signed it himself. In exchange, feeling indebted to who had been once his sister-in-law, offered her a new marriage prospect: Alyn Velaryon, a man that seemed to match the lady's character. The lady accepted with the condition that it'd take the next year so all divorce could be settled.

And thus, Aurynn and Alyn were married in front of King Aegon's eyes in a handsome and elaborate wedding, where Rodrik walked Aurynn for the last time, his daughters Laena and Rhaenys as flower girls. They soon moved to Pentos, away from Westeros and Cregan's jealousy. Aurynn became pregnant once more, and delivered a strikingly beautiful girl, Daena Velaryon, whom they sent to serve to the new queen, Daenera Velaryon. She seemed to enjoy being there, for often Aurynn commented to her husband about how she enjoyed being with her cousins Laena and Rhaenys, and to see Rodrik's only son Aemon become a grown, handsome man.

However, the marriage proved to be incompatible, and when Alyn wasn't gallivanting with a lover, he was at sea, where he was eventually lost. Swearing off a fourth marriage, Aurynn instead moved to a quaint house in King's Landing, where she sought the close friendship and companionship of Princess Visella Targaryen, soon attached to the hip, maybe too close for Westerosi society. She lived her remaining life by giving prosperous matches to her daughters and spoiling her nephew and nieces rotten, all with Visella close behind.

As for Rodrik, he and Baela were a never-ending fairytale, riding dragons together and enjoying a quiet life with their three children and staying away from politics. Their daughters were married to prominent houses, and their son married later in life, having built for himself an impressive career. @blood0fthedragon @mini-kunoichi (inspired by @emilykaldwen & @huramuna )

[cepetriwrites]

what do you think about female Jace and Aemond au?

I think puberty will be a very confusing angsty time for aemond…

- childhood goes pretty much the same, every attempt be close is constantly undermined by Alicent telling her sons they’ll be executed

- Jace has even more angst because she’s a bastard AND a woman. Double whammy.

- Aemond still loses his eye

- Time skip

- Family dinner goes marginally better. Aemond still makes his strong quip

- Jace “I dare you to say that again”

- Aemond for once, decides to pick his battles and stand down

- However Jace “these hands are rated A for anyone anywhere” decides to confront aemond that night and tell him off and to leave her brother alone

- Ends up making out

- Mission failed successfully?

Then there’s two timelines: The Better Timeline & The Worse Timeline

Better Timeline

- Viserys is useful for once and keeps clinging on to death

- Rhaenyra goes to kings landing

- Jace comes with to sit on the council, aemond finds someway to get on it or just constantly oddly sexually tense board meetings

- Someone (maybe/ probably daemon) clocks this and is like… what if we offered Jace to aemond and then WE have vhagar

Worse Timeline

- Viserys dies and leaves everyone to fix his mess

- Aemond accidentally kills Luke

- “Chat how fucked am I?”

- B&C happens

- Aemond has a “bright” idea?

- Less an idea than more two birds one stone

- Aemond successfully finishes off Aegon

- Aemond is ruler/regent - team green a little confused

- Aemond offers a deal: team green will acquiesce to rhaenyra IF he gets to marry Jace.

- Rhaenyra “we want Otto dead.”

- Aemond: I will give you a list and let the red keep flow with blood if you agree to terms

- Rhaenyra and Jace have to decide between their rage and sparing the nation bloodshed

- Incredibly awkward and tense wedding

- Cue very awkward attempt at rebuilding while having to deal with healing from the not insignificant scars and pain they’ve caused each other

[piracytheorist]

Spy x Family headcanons for Daemons AU

Quick breakdown of how a Daemons AU works:

Based on Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials book series, it's a world pretty much like our own, but its main difference is that people's souls are manifested in the form of animals, called daemons, who accompany their humans for the entirety of their lives. Humans and their daemons need to stay close to each other. Any distance more than a few meters will cause them both pain, and if pushed further, there's a high chance they'll die. Once a human dies, their daemon turns into dust and dissipates in the ether. Touch between human and their daemon can be comforting. Even the most stuck-up humans are shown to be affectionate with their daemons. When a human is very distant with their daemon, it's usually a sign that something is wrong. However, there are cases of a human getting angry with their daemon; but if they hit each other, they feel the strike on their own bodies. Daemons can touch each other, either playfully, affectionately, or with aggressive intent, but it's considered absolute taboo for a human to touch another human's daemon. In such a case the touched daemon's human can feel the touch in their body like a form of assault or violation. The only cases where it's allowed and not upsetting is when the humans involved are lovers, and still not all lovers touch each other's daemons. Children's daemons can change forms. They can vary in size from the smallest moth to an eagle or a leopard, but the book doesn't mention daemons being any bigger, aside from one case of someone's daemon settling into a dolphin, which confined him to a life constantly at sea (since he couldn't be too far from his daemon and the daemon couldn't be out of water). When children reach adolescence, their daemons stop changing forms until they settle on a form that they keep for the rest of their lives. For the most part, daemons are the opposite gender of their humans. Male human, female daemon, female human, male daemon. In the book there's only one mention of male human with a male daemon, but no reference to non-binary or trans identities. Daemons have their own names, usually picked by their human's parent. Daemons also have their own personalities, and while usually in accordance to their human's personalities, they may differ a bit and more often than not provide a voice of reason. Daemons speak with a human voice, regardless of their animal form. The voice may deepen in pitch as the human grows from child to adult, but the timbre stays the same; it's like a growing human's voice. Daemons speak to each other, but it's rare for them to talk to another human, especially one they don't know. (Remember, daemons are manifestations of one's soul. You wouldn't usually bare your soul to a stranger)

Hoping that's enough explanation, here are some headcanons I came up with!

Since we're dealing with a story with spies, I've made a tweak in the rules, so that spies can train so that their daemons can change forms even long after they've settled into their final form. It takes a lot of training, though, and no-one achieves a high level of form swapping. Even Twilight™, whose daemon is the best at changing forms, cannot have her change as quickly as a child's daemon does. But she does a good enough job for his infiltration missions.

The existence of daemons gives spies double the job; they have to study their targets and their daemons' personalities, especially when they plan on impersonating them.

Within the story, it is not made clear what Twilight's daemon's settled form is, nor what her real name (given to her by [redacted]'s mother) is. Spy training in that world includes letting go of your daemon's name as well. In fact, there's a days-long exercise where human and daemon are kept in separate rooms (though close enough so that the distance won't hurt or kill them) for hours on end. Being afar still hurts them and too much distance can still kill them, but they're trained to get used to the pain. After Twilight's training, his daemon felt almost separated from him.

Similarly to how Twilight doesn't remember his mother's face anymore, he also barely remembers what form her daemon had. I'm wondering whether I'd make it extra traumatic and make the story so he witnessed his mother's daemon turning into dust (I haven't read the manga so I don't know the details of his mother's death and don't spoil me about them) and the last thing he remembers of him is his particles of dust spreading in the air over his mother's dead body, so it's very upsetting to think about him enough to remember his form.

When not in a disguise, Twilight's daemon calls him Twilight (though she barely speaks to him) and she doesn't have a name, and since he's distanced from his emotions and self, he doesn't really refer to her enough to need a name to call her. She usually keeps in small forms so she can hide more easily. When he takes the identity of Loid, she has a given name and stays in the form of a squirrel, small enough to not gather attention.

Anya's daemon, since she's a child, constantly changes forms to his liking. They can both read minds of both humans and daemons. However, Anya's more attuned to human minds and her daemon to daemon minds. They can communicate telepathically, something that makes other people wary of them, since the connection of human and daemon isn't supposed to be that detailed; they're supposed to speak to each other for some things. So Anya and her daemon slowly learn to be careful with what they express about each other. The daemon sometimes takes the form of a squirrel or mouse and nuzzles up to Loid's daemon, much to Loid's annoyance. If anything, because he knows his daemon isn't as emotionally detached as he is, and he doesn't want her getting attached. Loid's daemon is very, very repressed. Like, imagine all of Twilight's emotional constipation and repression manifested into an animal. That's her.

Yor's daemon is a poison dart frog. Hear me out. Those animals are considered among the most protective parents. He's small and lithe, he's poisonous (yes he attacks her targets' daemons to poison them) and his colourful appearance would make her stand out among a plethora of small mammal daemons, bird daemons, and serpent daemons with natural colours. Luckily, he's small enough to hide in her pockets (contributing to her low self-confidence, by the way). His colour is, of course, red. Biologically, poison frogs raised away from tropical climates don't develop poison, but for the sake of the story let's say that here he can secrete enough poison to cause pain to another daemon, and also develop Yor's poison immunity, since she's very affectionate with her tiny daemon. When she comes to live with the Forgers, Anya's daemon also turns into a frog sometimes to play with her daemon, but he cannot create poison, and Yor's daemon is careful to not secrete any when playing with him.

Yuri's is a dog, I'm thinking either a German shepherd or a pit bull. She's very protective of Yor, very suspicious of Loid, and counter to most humans, she's the one egging Yuri on instead of being his voice of reason. When Yuri visits for the first time, he also points out to them that their daemons barely touch, and the two daemons rush to rub themselves together, Yor's daemon sweating profusely (metaphorically) in an effort to not secrete poison all over Loid's daemon's fur. (In certain interpretations of the book's lore, dog daemons represent a loyal human. So I think Yuri's extreme loyalty to Yor could manifest in a very protective large dog)

Franky's is a bearded dragon.

Henderson's is a Persian cat because Elegant™.

Donovan Desmond's would be an eagle. His family crest is still a griffin, but he's too proud to allow his daemon to be a fantastical beast, so she's settled into an eagle, which is one part of griffin either way. Taking after the father's influence, Demetrius' has also settled into an eagle, and Damian's mostly keeps that form too - he's one of the few young kids in the school whose daemon doesn't change forms much, though she still can. He claims she has already settled as an eagle (pretending to be older and such), but in secret, sometimes she turns into a cat to nuzzle with him, and when he's allowing himself to feel a little playful, she turns into an actual griffin. They've never shared this with anyone, though. Anya overhears it at some point in his thoughts and it's one of the first times she feels she has invaded someone's privacy.

During the aquarium visit, Anya's daemon turns into a small penguin. It's a little uncomfortable though because in that form he can't run too fast and is too slow for a super energetic Anya. That's another thing that gives Loid the idea of gifting Anya the giant penguin plushie - both Anya and daemon absolutely love it.

Anya and her daemon find it really cool that Papa's daemon can change forms. She wishes her daemon never settles so she can be just like him. Though she also finds it super cool that Mama's daemon is poisonous. She's conflicted.

For most of his missions, Twilight didn't need to talk to his daemon much, and spy training had taught him to be distanced from her, so they almost never spoke. Being part of the Forger family brought forth the need to be a "normal" father, so he had to get used to speaking to her again. For The Mission, of course. Same way his existence in the family slowly makes him open up, so does this "pretend" relationship with his daemon. Before he knows it, he thinks of her with her cover name, talks to her without their cover needing it, and - *gasp!* - pets her. His daemon recognizes it's all against his spy training but she's missed him so much all those years that she can't bring herself to tell him anything.

I'm thinking of having Sylvia's daemon be an owl. He usually stays in that form, but with a bit of effort he can also change forms when she needs to hide who she is.

I'd want Nightfall's daemon to be settled as a kind of bird too, though a much smaller one. Maybe a blackbird, or a magpie. He's not as good at changing forms like Twilight's daemon is, so he usually chooses other bird species when he needs a cover form.

The Forgers probably still get Bond, cause it's different to have a dog as a daemon and a dog as a pet.

The identity reveals would be more tense as the daemons would have a much harder time hiding their emotions. Loid's daemon is what would provide a contrast to his spy instinct telling him to abandon the mission; she would instead tell him to give the family a chance. Yor's daemon though would seethe and nearly spit poison in their direction. But it's a kind of honesty they'd both need in order to develop.

Twilight would know that his daemon is hurt by him ordering her to not comfort Anya's daemon; Twilight insists that Yor and her daemon are enough comfort and he's not worth a damn for a father, and since he's going to leave, he doesn't want Anya and her daemon depended on a daemon that's going to leave.

But then he'd finally accept his feelings. He'd let his daemon comfort Anya's daemon, and Yor's daemon would slowly warm up to her... and then it would be a Moment™ when Loid and Yor finally touch each other's daemons. A few of his past fake relationships had been bold enough to think they're the right kind of couple to touch each other's daemons, and for the sake of the mission, he allowed them that touch, despite how disgusted it made him feel (both that someone else was touching his daemon and that he was touching the daemon of a person he wasn't in love with). But when Yor touches his daemon, it feels so loving and sweet and caring and true that he bursts in tears right in front of her.

It's impactful for Yor's daemon, as well. A selective few times in her jobs, her desperate targets would grab her daemon in order to shock her, and the daemon was so shocked he couldn't even think to make poison to shake them off. Loid is the first human that touches him when the daemon has full control of the situation, and he only feels the need to protect him, no thoughts of poisoning again but for a wholly different reason.

At some point after they're officially a couple, Yor asks Loid about his real name and his daemon's real form and name. He tells her that whoever he was before is now gone, and the daemon's previous form doesn't matter (though knowing her name was chosen by his mother, a part of him still treasures it); what matters is who Loid and daemon want to be now; a part of their little family.

Yeah, that's all I got for now, lol. Might add more later.