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presidenthades · 6 months ago

Note

⚠️Spoilers for S.2 ep.2, kinda❓

DAERON EXISTS, LIFE MAKES SENSE AGAIN!

Anyhow, your thoughts on the new episode🎤???

Oh, and in celebration of show!Daeron's confirmed existence: mini tiny Joffron doodle ig? Made with love, not with skill☝️💚🖤❤️

Wait omigod I love this. Why does it perfectly encapsulate the two of them. 😭😍🥰 They really do have a reverse Hades/Persephone dynamic! Honestly I love this art style, it’s giving a chibi vibe that I adore. I’m going to link this to my HOTD artwork list.

Anyway yes, Daeron truthers rise up. ✊

(Obviously, S2E2 spoilers below the cut.)

First I’ll start with new thoughts on B&C. After my rewatch, most of my feelings about E1 remained the same, but I want to update my reaction to B&C. Helaena’s muted reaction made more sense to me the second time around. It is consistent with her character, and the BTS info about her visions makes it understandable why she seemed to treat Jaehaerys’s death as inevitable.

HOWEVER. Viewers should not be required to watch BTS commentaries etc. to have full context for the scene. The background info about Helaena’s visions should’ve been in the actual episode. If knowing about Helaena’s visions about her children’s potential demise is that important, they could and should have incorporated it I nto an actual scene. For example, instead of her opening scene being her embroidering, she could’ve been scribbling about that vision in her notebook.

If for some reason this was too difficult to film, there’s one small change they could’ve made to B&C which would’ve made a huge difference, visions or no visions. When Blood says both children “look the same,” Cheese could have responded with “just kill them both.” This instantly heightens the stakes and makes Helaena’s actions more understandable to even the most casual viewer: if she doesn’t point out Jaehaerys, then both her children die.

End of E1 rant. Onto E2 rant!

I’ve seen a lot of different reactions to this episode. Some say it was great, some say it was awful. IMO, your takeaway of how good the episode was probably depends on who your favorite characters are.

I think Rhaenyra and Aegon had the best scenes this episode. Otto also had some banger lines, and Helaena made me feel a lot of emotions. Daemon did not come away particularly well, Aemond was a little weird, Alicent continues to be frustrating, and I’m convinced that Criston is the writing room’s whipping boy.

TGC really got to show off his acting chops this episode. Personally I wish they could’ve spent more time on Aegon smashing the LEGOs and bludgeoning Blood, but that is a me preference. I think Aegon really did love Jaehaerys, AND he is angry about the blow that has been struck again him as king. Both these things can be true at the same time. The end scene where he’s crying alone in his room proves that his grief isn’t just a show.

And I don’t mind that Aegon’s decision to hang all the rat-catchers makes him seem violent and impetuous, because he is violent and impetuous. The scene is also framed so that you understand why Aegon did it; we see Cheese hanging with the others. And let’s be honest, if Rhaenyra did something similar to avenge Luke (eg burn down Storm’s End because Borros contributed to his demise, which would kill a lot of other people too), a lot of viewers would cheer her on.

(I was definitely thinking during the “Aegon fires Otto” scene that Aegon could really use a Jacaera to kindly knock some sense into him. 🥲)

Speaking of the end scene…omigod Alicent why. 💀 Conceptually, I understand there’s generational trauma going on. Otto was cold with Alicent, who is in turn cold with Aegon especially. But like. Holy shit. Give your son a 5-second hug. It would’ve been nice if they could at least show Alicent feeling conflicted, like she wants to comfort her son but feels incapable, so she walks away.

Backtracking a bit: I feel like Alicent is consistently made the focus of the story in places where she arguably should not be the focus, and I wonder if this is because the showrunners want to take advantage of the fact they’ve paid good money for Olivia Cooke. But I truly do not understand why it was Helaena and Alicent at the funeral rather than Helaena and Aegon. Otto said something about “our gentlest souls” but this could’ve been a great opportunity to showcase more of Aegon and Helaena’s complicated relationship and shared grief.

Whatever my other feelings on the scene, I do think Phia and Olivia’s acting was phenomenal. Helaena’s panic attack during the funeral 😱. I really just wanted to emergency evacuate her from that mess.

I’m going out of chronological order, but I’m going to backtrack again to Otto making the decision to have the funeral as a PR campaign. It’s very Machiavellian, and TBH I understand why he chose to do it. It is a huge blow against Rhaenyra’s reputation. But I feel like the show wants Otto and Daemon to be the only actual schemers on their respective sides. Everyone else kinda just whoopsies or white-knights their way through the narrative. I just want to shake the writers and tell them it’s okay for other characters to be villainous. There’s a reason Daemon is way more popular than Criston. At least Daemon fully commits to his bad decisions.

I kinda feel bad for Fabien Frankel because the writers seem to really have it out for Criston. They really want to make him the most hatable character. 💀 Imagine if instead we got a more Machiavellian Criston who intentionally decides to claw his way up from nothing to become one of the most powerful people in Westeros. Even if he does reprehensible things along the way, at least he does them purposefully, not because he’s incompetent.

I almost forgot to talk about Aemond, because he really has not been getting a lot of screen time these two episodes. The brothel scene was odd but not as odd as it could have been. I wish the writers would stop having his personality revolve around Daemon, but it’s probably their way of building up to God’s Eye. Honestly, I would’ve preferred a scene of Aemond with his family dealing with B&C aftermath rather than fucking off to the brothel.

Now, changing topics to the Rhaenyra and Daemon divorce scene. I think viewers’ reactions to this scene depend a lot on whether or not you’re a Daemon fan. He really comes off not great in the entire sequence from when Rhaenyra learns about B&C to when Daemon leaves. Also, it’s very obvious Sara Hess wrote the scene; she’s been vocal about how she dislikes Daemon, and a lot of what Rhaenyra says seems to be opinions that Sara has shared. I think Rhaenyra was right to call out Daemon for B&C and for lying to her face about it.

It may have been better if they had more buildup showing cracks between Daemon and Rhaenyra, because she’s also calling him out for a lot of stuff besides B&C. There was the S1E10 argument and choking scene, but some more interaction in S2E1 or E2 where they’re at odds would have made it fresher in viewers’ memories. But it’s not necessary, and I think the scene works as is.

Despite viewers’ feelings on this scenes, it was VERY well acted by both Emma and Matt. And it leads to Rhaenyra’s interesting interaction with Baela. Rhaenyra refuses to risk Jace and send him out on patrol near KL, but she tells Baela to do the exact same thing. It’s very subtle, and the scene is framed as a positive thing between the two characters, but this is probably the most morally gray decision Rhaenyra makes in this episode. She won’t risk her child, but she will risk Daemon’s child immediately after they fought.

The Mysaria scenes were interesting. I really don’t mind the show’s efforts to whitewash her. She’s horrible in the book, but show!Mysaria is actually sympathetic for the most part. She worked her way up from nothing but the people in charge of the system keep stomping her back down. I think her dialogue about Daemon/Otto/powerful men was heavy-handed foreshadowing that she’s going to end up serving Rhaenyra, who is notably not a man.

I don’t have a lot of groundbreaking comments about Erryk & Arryk. It was very emotionally impactful…and I wish the episode had ended either with them dying, or with the scene where Aegon is crying by himself, rather than ANOTHER Alicole sex scene. 💀

Overall, this episode had its highlights, and acting is phenomenal as always. But the writers really need to figure out what to do with Alicent and Criston, other than have the fuck all the time.

#ask me anything #house of the dragon #house of the dragon season 2 #hotd s2 #hotd season 2

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sapphire-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Down in Flames (modern!HOTD) 3

previous ~ next ~ series masterlist

pairing: modern!Aegon x Reader & modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: Tensions rise with the band as Otto Hightower runs them ragged with recording the album. You and Aegon come to a breaking point (no like for real this time you swear).

rating: Explicit

warnings: spicy stuff below the cut, choking, p in v, language, physical fighting, y'all if this isn't your thing I beg you just scroll past

word count: 4.8k

note: what an innocent lil gif for this part lmao hope you enjoy it!! loving writing this story and reading your reblogs & comments 💚

masterlist

You text Cregan when you get back to the apartment. You received an eager text from him almost immediately after entering your Uber. Baela egged you on, Rhaena laughing maniacally as she did. Truly a menacing pair the two of them can be.

“He liiiiikes you,” Rhaena slurred, shaking her hips, “seriously you should have seen him watching while we were dancing. Practically drooling”

Heat floods to your cheeks as you remember Aemond’s gaze, the way he was watching you. The feeling of his hand on your arm.

Jesus Christ. The drinks have gone to your head tonight because there is no way you’re blushing, no way your thighs are clenching together at the thought of Aemond Targaryen.

“Text him this! Text him this,” Baela says, holding her hands out for dramatic effect, “please Cregan, fuck me till I can’t remember the name of my shitty ex.”

You throw a pillow at Baela who catches it with ease, stuffing it under her elbows.

“Bae you are in rare form tonight!” you accuse, laughing all the same. Baela groans, stuffing her face into the pillow.

“I just want my girl to get some!” she says, voice muffled by the pillow. Rhaena laughs, reaching into a bag of chips you all have been sharing. Baela lifts her head, eyes wide.

“When is the last time you were fucked?” Baela demands to know, pointing a finger at you.

You remember. A few weeks ago. After a heated argument, of course. You and Aegon had made up, leading to angry sex in his room.

“Couple weeks ago I guess-” you begin to answer but Baela shakes her head.

“No no no,” she says, “when was the last time you were fuuucked.”

You glance at Rhaena who is stifling a laugh, watching her buzzed sister speak her words of wisdom.

“Bae, we are not following,” Rhaena says snickering. Baela rolls her eyes, and takes a sip from the water bottle she keeps on her nightstand.

“You know what I mean,” Baela continues, “like really fucked, like the kind of sex that makes your brain leak from your ears. Earth shattering. Mind blowing.”

You understand what she means. Maybe in the earlier days of your relationship with Aegon it had been like that. Passionate, raw, love making. But you hate to admit, it hasn’t been like that in a while. Even with the anger.

“I don’t know,” you tell her, a nervous smile on your lips, “a while, I guess.”

Baela nods, like she already knew the answer.

“So text this burly, beefy man,” she begins, “and get, fuuucked.”

“Okay crazy!” you tell her, snagging a chip from Rhaena, “I will, not tonight though.”

Baela reaches for the chips, Rhaena holds the bag out to her.

“Thank you! Finally,” Baela says.

The rest of the night is spent giggling and sharing stories until the sun begins to peek through the clouds. Only then do you find sleep, and for the first time in weeks it is utterly blissful.

It was Baela who found herself at the studio early before the rest of the band arrived. Lounging on the couch she helped herself to an old issue of Cosmopolitan, flipping through the glossy pages. Snickering she dogeared a page to show you when you arrived.

The doors open Aemond strutting through them. Even his walk is arrogant.

“Found him,” Aemond said.

Aegon trails behind him, looking disheveled.

“Where was he?” Baela asks.

Aemond glances around the room.

“Y/N here?”

Baela shakes her head, not looking up from her magazine.

“Not yet, she’ll be here soon.”

“Silk Street,” Aemond says.

Baela’s head snaps up. The fucking strip club. She meets Aemond’s eye, his expression nonchalant. Baela’s mouth twists into anger as she turns her head to look at Aegon, who now sits on the edge of the stage with his head in his hands.

Baela rises from the couch, moving towards him.

“You piece of shit,” she says, curling her magazine and reeling backward, ready to strike him.

Aemond is quicker. He sprints forward grabbing her wrist, and twisting her away from his brother.

“I know,” Aegon moans looking up, eyes glassy, “you should fucking let her.”

“Let me go!” Baela says, tugging free from Aemond.

Luke enters from the other room, hearing the commotion. His eyes widen as he sees Aegon and takes in the scene in front of him.

“Leave her alone!” Luke says, moving to stand between Baela and Aemond.

Aemond looks at Luke incredulously.

“Fuck off,” Aemond says pushing Luke away from him.

Jace enters next with Helaena, watching as Luke stumbles backward. Helaena’s face crumples in confusion at the scene, as Baela grabs a vase attempting the launch it at Aegon. Helaena dashes forward, hands around the glass as Baela struggles against her grip.

“Stop!” Jace says coming to his brother’s aid, and pushing Aemond in the chest.

Aemond smiles at him, as though he was waiting for an excuse to release his frustration on the brothers. He pushes Jace who falls to the floor.

Luke moves to get towards Aemond once more, and Aegon leaps from the stage, grabbing Luke by the scruff of the neck and slamming him against the body of the piano.

“Aegon, stop!” Rhaena says as she enters the room amidst the chaos.

Baela stands between Jace and Aemond, as they continue to taunt each other.

You are the last to arrive, hurrying faster down the hallway at the sound of yelling. Your eyes widen at the fighting.

“Aegon!” you yell, running over to pull him off of Luke.

“Stop! Everyone stop it!” Baela shouts, as Otto Hightower enters the room and everyone falls silent.

Otto has that energy about him, his presence like a soothing balm on a burn. Aemond stands straighter immediately, Aegon backing up a few paces. Luke rubs his jaw which now glows red.

“Hardly the behavior of professionals,” Otto says in a chilling voice, “let alone a family.”

“Sorry,” Jace mutters, looking towards the floor.

Rhaena grabs your hand, directing you towards the sofa. Helaena is the only one who approaches Otto, arms open to embrace him.

“Thanks for coming,” she says, voice dreamlike, holding none of the stress that the room holds.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do,” Otto tells her, “and it needs to be done quickly. I don’t want any more fighting. Nothing that delays this being completed, is that clear?”

Aegon cracks his jaw, his eyes half-lidded as he nods. Aemond jerks his head in a quick nod. Jace is glaring at Aemond, but nods as well, his younger brother following his example.

“I need you to be perfect,” Otto says, putting a finger under Helaena’s chin.

She smiles at him, a whimsical expression on her face. Her smile isn’t a happy one, it is rather melancholic.

“Of course,” Helaena murmurs, and Otto walks by her, to stand in front of Aegon.

Aegon does not meet his gaze, looking anywhere but Otto. Otto looks down at him, taking in Aegon’s disheveled state. He can smell the lingering booze, see the glitter that speckles his flesh like small diamonds catching the light. Even from across the room you notice the fresh hickies that adorn Aegon’s neck causing your stomach to turn.

Otto makes a face of disgust before speaking.

“And you,” he says, looking at the man in front of him.

Aegon lifts his red-rimmed eyes towards his grandfather. Otto reaches a hand out, fingers brushing against Aegon’s swollen cheekbone. Aegon winces at his touch.

“I need you to be perfect,” Otto says, his voice eerily calm. Aegon’s lower lip trembles, but he nods all the same.

“Aegon, Helaena, come with me,” Otto says, starting towards the door, “I want recordings of isolated vocals, and the rest of the band ready to record in two hours.”

He stops at the door.

“707 King’s Road. Two hours,” Otto finishes, signaling to Aegon and Helaena.

Helaena hurriedly collects her notebooks and pens, shoving them into her canvas tote. Aegon looks towards you, his eyes glassy as he meets your furious expression. He’s cheated. Again. Well is it really cheating at this point?

In your mind you have broken up, but Aegon was still running around under the impression that you are still a couple. Do you even have a leg to stand on? You did give Cregan your number. You don’t even know what to say at this point, but luckily you don’t have to. Helaena moves toward her brother, lacing her fingers through his.

“Okay?” she asks, searching the face of her elder brother.

“Uh-huh,” Aegon says, as she begins to lead him from the room. And then they are gone.

The room is silent for a moment. Baela looks at you, as Rhaena moves towards Luke.

“Shit, Luke, your face,” she says, bringing a hand to touch his swollen jaw. Luke flinches, but lets her examine him.

“His fucking fault,” he snaps, glaring at Aemond.

Aemond tilts his head to the side, as though waiting for a reason to continue fighting.

“He was attacking Baela!” Luke continued, and Aemond moves towards him.

“Stop it!” Baela shouts, commanding the attention of the room, “no one attacked me. I attacked Aegon if anything.”

“Aegon?” you say, speaking for the first time since arriving, “why?”

Baela looks at you, before her eyes briefly glance at Aemond. You turn to face him.

“What?” you question.

You hate feeling like there is a secret in the room that everyone is aware of but you. Aemond meets your eyes but doesn’t say anything. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“He was at Silk Street,” Baela says reluctantly, “that’s where he was all night.”

Your heart sinks in your chest, an aching numbness settling deep within your bones. You can’t do this. You can’t do this anymore.

“I’m going home,” you announce, heading for the door.

“I’ll come with you,” Baela says, hurrying after you.

“No, Bae its okay,” you tell her, “go help them get ready. I’ll just be at the apartment.”

“Are you sure? Rhae and I-”

“I just need some time alone,” you tell her, “I’ll be okay. Promise.”

Baela nods, but lets you go. Jace comes up behind her as you leave through the door.

“She’ll be okay,” Jace says, rubbing her shoulders.

Baela nods, pressing her lips together in a tight line. Aemond is still glaring at Luke who now sits on the stage as Rhaena presses an icepack against his chin.

You don’t speak to Aegon for a few days. Not that you’d get far. Otto probably has him locked in the recording box until getting the perfect take.

You always knew the feud was serious when Rhaenyra went solo, but now with an actual album in the works blood was bound to be spilt. Otto would keep Dracarys in the studio all night if it meant getting the song recorded before Rhaenyra.

It wasn’t all bad. You needed some time to think, to really wrack your head for what you wanted. It was good to spend time at your old apartment, your old room. It made your head clearer. So when Aegon finally texted you, you knew what you had to do.

The studio was quiet when you arrived, save for the soft strumming of a guitar. You found Aegon sitting on the couch, fingers strumming his guitar, softly singing to himself. His eyes lit up when you walked into the room.

“Hey,” he says, placing the guitar to the side.

“Hey,” you answer, coming to sit beside him.

You suddenly wish you had changed your mind about what to wear. You wanted to look nice, so you had settled with a dress, with black tights covering your legs. The weather was getting colder and you were grateful for the warmth they provided. But you notice Aegon’s eyes roam up your legs, and worry for a moment you’ll simply forgive him, straddling him on the couch.

“How’s the album coming?” you ask, breaking the awkward silence.

“A fucking nightmare,” Aegon laughs, “but we did it, we recorded it all. Without killing each other.”

You smile at that. You always wanted the band to succeed.

“Otto’s throwing a party to celebrate, at the Dragonpit,” Aegon tells you.

Your eyes widen at that. The Dragonpit is a huge club, for really fancy patrons. Rich mafia dudes, as Baela would say.

“That’s really cool, Aeg,” you tell him and you mean it. You truly are happy for him.

“I’m really sorry, (Y/N),” Aegon says with tears in his eyes, “I don’t know why I keep fucking up, but I do.”

Your eyes fill with tears. At least Aegon knows where this is headed.

“I really did love you,” Aegon tells you, his smile half-hearted.

You find your lip trembling.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love someone properly,” he admits, slowly finding the words, “but I tried my best.”

You run your hand through his hair, smoothing it off of his forehead. Aegon closes his eyes at your touch.

Now is the moment. You could stay. You have done it before. You could lean into the man in front of him, soothing him. Wipe the tears from his face. Hold him in your arms and cradle him until he falls asleep.

But you are tired. And you want to go home. The resistance falls from your limbs, a tension you were only partially consciously aware of leaves you. You sigh deeply, giving him a sad smile.

“I know you did,” you tell him. Aegon’s eyes are glassy as he studies your face. As you step away from him. You are diverging from the path he is familiar with.

“I loved you too,” you whisper.

Aegon nods, his lips downturned.

“Do you want to come with me?” you ask, more out of courtesy than thinking he will agree.

He shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says, forcing a smile, “I think I’m gonna crash here for the night. Don’t want to be late for rehearsal in the morning.”

“Okay,” you tell him, getting up from the sofa to leave.

“Friday night,” he calls, “you’re still my date. For the party.”

You smile sadly at him.

“You sure you want me there?”

“Of course I do. You’re a part of this too.”

“Okay. I’ll be there,” you tell him, causing him to smile.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Bye Aegon.”

You cry the entire ride home. You didn’t think you would, but as you sat behind the wheel it was as though a dam broke lose and everything came crashing down. But at the same time, the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders.

You don’t know what made you drive to Aegon’s apartment.You just want this to be over, grab what remains of your things and quietly disappear from his life. You stayed in your car several minutes after you parked before heading up the apartment.

The lights are off when you enter the apartment, save for the light above the stove that is seemingly always on. There are muffled voices from down the hall, a giggle. As you close the door behind you, you hear the voices from Aemond’s room go silent.

Shit.

You had hoped he wasn’t home. You don’t need more humiliation that comes with packing what little things you have left here.

You walk slowly, the baseboards creaking under your foot. You hear Aemond’s bedroom door open.

Fuck.

You look up from the floor, wincing. Your embarrassed expression soon fades to one of shock as Rhaena walks towards you from the hall.

She is smiling brightly, wearing one of Aemond’s shirts. You know it's his, you’ve seen him wear it. It falls past her thighs, leaving the rest of her legs bare.

“Hey Y/N,” she says, voice shaking, trying to appear nonchalant. She bites her bottom lip, widening her eyes as if to say finally.

You can’t seem to find your voice as she collects her purse and slips on her shoes.

“I’ll call you later, yeah?” she says, tossing her locs over her shoulder. Her cheeks are rosy, lips bruised. She places a hand to her mouth, blowing you a quick kiss before scurrying out the door. You watch the door close behind her, lips still parted in shock.

You turn back towards the hall. Aemond has exited his room, standing shirtless in the hallway. His dark gray sweats hang low on his hips, displaying the sharp v-line that disappears below his waistline.

“Seriously?” you tell him, finding your voice at last, “Rhaena? Aemond come on.”

His tongue pokes at his cheek, as he watches you. His sapphire eye catches the light from the kitchen, sending geometric shapes on the wall.

“She really likes you, you prick,” you tell him, anger coursing through your veins, heating your face.

The sadness and hurt that had been in your entire being moments ago has been replaced with white hot rage.

“So?” he says, strolling into the kitchen, and grabbing a glass. He fills it with water and takes a sip before meeting your eyes.

“So?” you imitate him, head tilting to the side, “so this is going to crush her.”

You can’t believe the nerve he has, to stand there so calmly. He exhales, lips turning into a smile as he tilts his head toward the ceiling, silver hair cascading down his back.

“She’s single, I’m single,” he says, no growls, at you, “it's not a big fucking deal.”

“It is a big deal Aemond,” you say, voice increasing in volume, “Fuck. Why would you do that?”

You always knew Aemond wasn’t the nicest person, but part of you hoped deep down he had some sense of empathy. Especially since he brushed Rhaena off all these years. You thought he understood her feelings for him. A thought rushes to your mind.

“You did this because of Luke,” you told him, and he placed his glass on the counter, resting his hands against the edge. The muscles in his back ripple as his hair falls over his face.

You felt your shoulders relax, knowing your realization is correct. What an asshole.

“You’re gonna mess with Rhaena’s head, just to fuck with Luke?” you ask him, running a hand through your hair. Aemond says nothing, just taps his long fingers against the counter.

“Fuck, Aemond,” you want to keep yelling at him. You want a reaction from him, some remorse, something besides that cold look, “you really are heartless.”

Aemond turns his head to you, purple and sapphire eye aglow with anger. He pushes off the counter, striding towards you.

“Go to bed, Y/N,” he says in a voice dripping with disdain, “you’re not my friend, you’re not my girlfriend. Stop acting like one.”

Your nostrils flare with anger and you swear you see red. You step closer to him, tilting your chin to meet his gaze. You can feel the heat radiating from him, your chests almost touching.

“Rhaena is my friend,” you tell him, voice low in warning.

You stare at each other for a beat, neither moving nor backing down. Gods you fucking hate him. At least ending things with Aegon means you never have to interact with Aemond Targaryen ever again.

“Go to bed,” he repeats, voice dripping with hostility, as you shake your head.

“I’m not staying.”

A flicker of confusion dances across his sharp features.

“Why?”

“We broke up,” you tell him, and continue before he can argue, “really. Like for good this time.”

Aemond stays eerily still. His eye searches your face, taking in the look of acceptance that follows the words you speak.

“So after the party, you won’t have to deal with me anymore,” you tell him, the bitterness evident in your voice.

You look away first. Who cares about this stupid stalemate anymore? You’re so done with Targaryen men. You turn on your heel prepared to leave the kitchen when Aemond speaks.

“You know what I think?” he says softly, and you look at him once more.

He wets his lips, a muscle in his jaw twitching. You wait for him to speak, anticipation causing your skin to blossom with goosebumps.

“I don’t think you’re mad I fucked Rhaena,” he tells you and you shake your head, opening your mouth to argue, your eyes narrowing.

Of course that’s why you are mad, what is he talking about?

“I think you’re mad I didn’t fuck you,” he says slowly.

Your mouth suddenly goes dry as all the air evaporates from your lungs. Your heart beats erratically in your chest and you swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat. Aemond’s eyes light up as you fail to answer, the beginning of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re jealous,” he practically purrs, as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, flooding them with color.

The air in the kitchen feels so hot, it’s as though it is melting the flesh from your bones. You’re not jealous, why would you be jealous? No, no that doesn’t make any sense. He’s just saying that to mess with you, to make you confused.

“Fuck you,” you whisper, still frozen to the spot.

Your chest heaves with your breath. There is a look in Aemond’s eye, reminiscent of a rabid dog.

“I didn’t sleep with Rhaena,” he tells you and you blink in surprise.

Your heart nearly stops beating.

“What?”

“We made out,” he admits, grinning smugly as he shrugs, “she wanted to be more comfortable so I gave her my shirt.”

The nerves you felt a moment ago are replaced by fury yet again. He tricked you, and now he has humiliated you. In the neverending battle between you and Aemond, it appears Aemond has finally won. His smile is triumphant as he takes in your reaction.

You clench your jaw, preparing yourself for being the butt of the joke, before rolling your eyes at him.

“You are such a dick,” you tell him, your tone defeated as you turn away from him in surrender.

Aemond reaches out, grabs your arm, and forces you to face him.

“Oh, fuck off-” you begin to say when he presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is brief and sears your lips. You pull away immediately, staring at him, eyes wide. Aemond stares back at you, not releasing your arm.

Holy shit.

Your lips tingle and you don’t let your thoughts catch up with you as you lean forward, crashing your lips to his again. You throw your hands around his neck, pulling him towards you as he molds his mouth over yours.

His hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. You scrape your nails against the nape of his neck, securing his mouth to yours. Aemond turns his head, deepening the kiss as his hot tongue enters your mouth. He pushes you against the counter, caging you against it with his hips.

A soft wine leaves your throat, swallowed by Aemond’s pouty lips, as you feel the hardness between his legs push against you. Aemond’s hands move to cup under your ass, squeezing harshly as he lifts you with ease onto the counter.

He brings his hands between you both, slender fingers pushing your thighs open. You wrap your legs around his waist as he does, your legs a vice around him. His fingers stroke the fabric of your tights, right against your most sensitive spot, before hooking onto the material and tearing them at the seam.

He fucking ripped your stockings holy shit.

Aemond continues kissing you relentlessly as he does so, its a desperate mess of clashing tongues and teeth. You nip at his lower lip earning a groan from him that only encourages you further. You move your hands from his hair, pulling down his sweatpants at the waist. You feel his freed cock, hot and heavy against your hand.

Your eyes flutter open then, as you take him in your hand, shamefully impressed at the generous length and girth. Aemond meets your eyes, violet eye half-lidded, lips bruised from kissing. He releases a moan as you pump your hand around him, stroking his thick length once, twice.

You barely think, mind clouded with lust as you guide him towards your throbbing center. Aemond’s nimble fingers loop through your lace underwear, pulling it to the side. You feel the fat head of his cock kiss between your slick lower lips, before he pushes into you.

A strangled moan escapes your lips at the delicious stretch Aemond’s cock gives you. Delirious with the feeling of him splitting you open, you choose to ignore the smug grin that appears on his face as he bottoms out in your warm cunt. You can’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction in the way his mouth drops open as your cunt pulsates, clenching around him.

The way Aemond and you fuck is just like when you’re fighting one another. There is no time for being gentle. After a moment of adjusting Aemond pulls out, snapping his hips back into you again, again, and again. All you can do is hold onto him as he pounds into you, the edge of the counter biting into your lower back. Your fingers claw at him, surely drawing blood with how hard they scrape against the planes of his shoulders. Aemond’s mouth finds the junction of your shoulder and neck, and he sucks harshly on the skin.

You can’t help the pathetic whimpers and cries that leave you at his merciless pace, at the way he keeps one hand wrapped around your thigh keeping you spread open against him. He keeps his other hand around your neck, long fingers curling around your throat. He lifts his face from your neck, watching his cock slide effortlessly in and out, coated in your arousal. Aemond blinks to look up at you, drinking in the hedonistic expression on your face.

Every drive of his hips sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, the head of his cock rubbing against the spongy spot within you that makes stars appear in your eyes. Holy fuck you hadn’t been fucked like this in forever. Maybe ever at all.

“Fuck, you feel good,” Aemond growls, hand squeezing against your throat.

The loss of air makes your head spin, as Aemond continues his vigorous strokes. The apartment is silent aside from the lewd, wet slapping noises that echo throughout the kitchen.

His pace never relents, even as he releases your throat and forces his fingers through your parted lips into your warm mouth. He groans as you suck the lengthy digits, before removing them from your mouth and bringing them to rub slow, lazy circles around your clit. A pleasurable juxtaposition to the brutal pace of his cock.

You feel your lower stomach tighten, a wave of pleasure beginning to crest within you. Your fingers desperately claw at his bicep.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you squeak, a breathy desperate moan. You bite your lip, stifling the next moan that manages to slip through; it comes out as a broken sob. Aemond raises an eyebrow at you, a cocky lopsided grin appearing on his face.

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, his voice rough as gravel.

God, you want to smack that stupid self-indulgent look off his face.

But he feels so fucking good inside you, working you closer and closer toward your orgasm. It's like he knows exactly how to touch you like he’s been thinking of touching you like this and preparing for the moment he does. His free hand tangles in your hair, tugging your neck backward and making you look towards the ceiling. Aemond licks a hot path up your throat, before biting harshly on your ear.

With a strangled cry, your pussy clenches around his cock, and the world around shatters, bathing you in white hot pleasure. Aemond hums against your neck, as his thrusts become sloppier. As his pace begins to slow, you feel him release inside of you, hot spurts of his cum painting your inner walls as you clench around him, milking him for all he’s worth. Thank god you're on birth control.

You feel Aemond’s hand release from your hair, your neck relaxing. You drop your hands from his back as he rests his forehead against yours. You swallow, trying to regulate your breathing that leaves your lips in pants. Aemond releases his hands from you, pulling his softening cock from within you, clutching the counter so hard his knuckles turn white.

You feel despairingly empty as he unsheaths himself from your warmth, breath catching when he is fully parted from you. Aemond and you lock eyes, your cheeks beginning to flush as you come down from your respective highs. Warmth trickles down your between your thighs, as your place your shaky legs on the ground.

You just slept with Aemond Targaryen.

Shit.

Aegon’s fucking brother. Your heart drops.

Shit.

Rhaena.

note: what did i say about things getting messy??? 😱 I hope you enjoyed ily ily ily

taglist: @padfooteyes, @herfantasyworldd, @kyuupidwrites, @lost-and-founds, @doublesparrows, @virginslut08, @f4ll-for-you, @violet2507, @itsabby15, @raphaellathedragon, @tswiftsthings, @cruelmissdior, @tempt-ress, @lexyr23, @reneki, @fictionalcomforts, @serrhaewin, @yariany02, @lily174, @schniiipsel, @nina2697, @minttea07, @queenofshinigamis, @duesobabe, @maximizedrhythms, @arryn-nyx, @arcadianmoonlight @kittykylax

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themotherofblood · 2 years ago

Note

Dear author, you don't know how happy I am to see that your ad requests are open. That said can I get an extremely romantic, overwhelming, passionate and rough smut with Daemon x Martell fem reader inspired by the song "Ang laga de", please?

you have no fucking idea how happy this ask made me, like kicking my legs and smiling like a lunatic happy. I have envisioned this very smut scene at least a hundred times. It is a little dark, both Daemon and Y/N are kinda crazy in this. Madly in love, literally

masterlist

smut, talks of murder, blood, loss of virginity, oral (f), more blood, fingering and evil daemon being a softie.

Daemon Targaryen x fem!Martell Reader

“I refuse to be your mistress!”

That is the last thing you had said to your beloved dragon prince.

The Dornish were said to be a shameless lot regardless, and here you fell for a married man.

The Rhoynish gods were laughing at your stupidity, there wasn’t even a lure placed for you to catch. You simply fell for him, hard.

What had been a month long endeavour to see your younger sister wed a distant Targaryen cousin. Turned to your own nightmare. You had never craved for something as much as you had Daemon Targaryen. His flirtatious deeds, bringing your flowers and trinkets had bouncing like a little girl. It was frustrating, you had tried courting before and yet it felt flat, you truly believed that men simply were not capable of pleasing you. Until he came along, him and that stupid red dragon that made you want Daemon even more

He became the thing you wanted to cry to the gods about, the sweets yours parents wouldn’t let you have or that fine silk dress that was far too big for you to wear. His niece Rhaenyra, also egged this fire further and not once had either of them mentioned that he was married! It was painful, really fucking painful, learning that his loyalty was sworn to another.

You’d spent nights unable to sleep on foreign beds, awake in the royal gardens of the Red Keep, where the prince kept you company till the sun graced the horizon and you had succumbed to slumber with your head in his lap. There was serenity, shared comfort that dwelled between the two of you. You had heard stories, counted first hand of the nights he’d spend in brothels with his whores. You didn’t care, you wanted him.

“I refuse to be your mistress.”

It was a lie, you would happily become his salacious secret should he have asked a second time. There was no dignity, no obligations or customs, to you there was just him and the one truth that boiled your blood hot. You had already given him a piece of you heart as you boarded the ship to return home. You wanted him to ask again, to whisk you away on his dragon and yet he allowed you the curtesy to return home with your honour intact.

“If there is anything the crown can provide for Dorne, do not hesitate.” Viserys coughed his words out as he presented his farewells to you in a crowded court

“Should I ask, you wouldn’t be able to provide it your grace.” You wandered, keeping your head low in respect for the man and your wants

“What is it that a king cannot provide,” Otto Hightower questioned, taking offence to your wording.

“Daemon Targaryen.” You stated, gasps echoed across the throne room. You had committed a crime, stained your honour for good. You didn’t care nor did you give Daemon a last look before boarding your ship.

Honour- what was it compared to feel of being in his arms? What was devotion if not sound of his voice relaying Valyrian poetry? What was love, if not your heart that drowned in his blood?

What was love- if not the letter of his wife’s untimely injury?

Rhea Royce, bedridden of her paralysis, remained frozen and useless to her husband.

There was much that Daemon Targaryen was capable of, much that you were capable of. The sheer fire that burned your passions would have soaked your own hands in Rhae Royce’s blood.

She didn’t love him.

You did.

Then came your brother, his stupid alliance and vengeance against the Targaryen’s was costing you your sanity, you had pleaded with him for weeks and then you succumbed to the insanity that perhaps there was venom in your heart for whoever kept you from your dragon prince.

It festered for days, the mirrors in your room painted with clay. Refusing to look at yourself until he laid eyes upon you as his wife.

You had sat at supper with your brother, his disappointment was clear. You wanted to lay with the enemy, if loving Daemon was treachery then you would happily lay your hands forwards retribution. There should have been sorrow, a searing burn of guilt- he was your family, your blood. You shared a cradle and a mother; nothing more. Your sweet brother, for now was thorn digging into your palm as you admired the flourishing bud of devotion. He had to be plucked out.

The forbidden subject was brought up once more, there wasn’t a request in sight but a demand from his brazen sister.

“Let me be his, let him have me.” A prayer, Qoren grew irate over your insolent behaviour.

He loved you dearly, his sweet sister who was blinded by the rage of love. He wouldn't allow it, claiming to chain you to your chamber if you made an attempt to contact him. You said nothing as you nibbled on your food, spatters of blood dripped onto your pie. You could feel your throat constricting and yet it was nothing compared to the agony you had been in without Daemon.

Qoren coughed profusely, blood dripping from his nose as his eyes widened at your betrayal. In truth he had betrayed you first, choosing to keep you away from the one thing you had ever truly wanted. You could taste the copper on your lips, corners of your eyes welling with tears as you ripped the small pendant from your neck; even with the antidote to the poison in your system. The despair never stopped.

An unpleasant event truly, yet what was anyone to do, Qoren had no heirs and your blood-bled mustard. In the true picture of your house’s words, you remained unbent; raging on in sheer will for one man.

Even tainted in blood, you wore white for him; to remain pure, awaiting him to paint you in the colours of his house

He will return for me, for my love

There was no assurance that he would fly to you, no evidence that Rhae Royce’s accident wasn’t a mere coincidence; yet your arrogance had you rubbing rose oil onto your skin.

My dragon would return to me, you were sure of it.

For days the men sworn to the Martells had sighted the skies day and night, all in hopes of seeing a red dragon looming over the palace. The very ladies that had dressed you since you were a child urged for you to see reason, men often toyed with naive noble ladies for their amusement. He hadn't toyed with you, you were his cherished doll, one he stole because he simply could.

“Princess,” A young squire heaved, a folded parchment in between his fingers. Sealed with a three-headed dragon.

Your wish was my command princess.

Even without a name, the curls on his lettering were indicative enough an answer for you.

He had indeed harmed Rhea Royce for you, just as you had killed your brother Qoren for him. In your heart, you knew he would find you soon; just as your orders for exotic flowers and wines were distributed to merchants, people in your household began to whisper of your delusions.

Then the black skies graced your hopes, almost taunting all those who questioned your faith in him. The moon, full as is lit the ocean in its milky glow, from those very black skies came your faith. Loud whistles of a dragon echoed through Old Palace. Yet another young squire mumbled out in laboured breaths.

You smiled to yourself as your ladies sat in silent shock, their efforts in dressing you in white and gold would bear fruit tonight. Their feet sprung to action, the jangles from their anklets were muffled in your ears, and you just smiled to yourself. You hiked you skirts up as you skipped down the corridor, the jangles on your gold anklets seemed to have been cursing everybody who questioned you.

The doors to the Old Palace opened as Daemon Targaryen rode in on horseback, and along with him came a small entourage. He sat tall atop his horse, finally a Targaryen worthy of conquering Dorne. You were sure your ancestors were screaming bloody murder, shunning you and wishing you ill will, and yet as you stood at the enterance of the Old Palace, your father’s name meant nothing infront of the man you loved.

“In a bustling court you asked for me, may all see; I have arrived.” Daemon proclaimed as he stood with his arms out. You feet hurried down the steps, hoping to grace him with an eternal embrace and yet he raised his hand to stop you dead in your tracks

“I applaud you, for a devotion even I was unknown to. You stripped yourself bare of your honour and dignity for a relationship you had no right over.” He retorted, you couldn’t understand was her perturbed? Is that what he was here for, to lecture you?

“What reasoning do you have for this madness?”

“Love.” You stated, even the word in itself felt lacking for the true tempest that swirled in your environs. It had to be bigger, all consuming.

“The one revolts against the mightiest of dragons, that love,” You walked towards him “The one that fearlessly professes her devotion at court, that love.”

“When she sees her beloved and forgets her family, that love.” You eyes glossed over, consuming your skin in wild fire, begging him to claim you already

His hands harshly grasped your forearms, shaking sense into your as he spoke.

“The Faith and my brother’s court will never see you as one of theirs,” He warned.

“I accept.” You smiled.

“Marrying me would have you walking on fire!” He reasoned, hoping you would back away; a flower far to delicate for him to touch. He would give his life for you to not wither.

“I accept.” You nodded.

“I have a wife, Rhea.” He grimaced at the thought of his bronze bitch “I shall never be able to provide you the title of my first wife.” His hand trailed up to hold your cheek, stroking away the moisture that had looked below your eyes.

“Taking my name as yours will bring nothing but notoriety.” He kissed you cheek.

“I accept.”

“Then let it be known, the world would remember us as one,” He moved backwards gesturing towards the priest in his entourage.

“The Watergardens,” You stated, gesturing your servants to lead the priest to the location.

Daemon had allowed you moments alone, your household torn over what was happening. While many sighed in relief, perhaps you would finally eat; let life make your skin glow yet again. The storm gave away and your lamp was still burning bright. He presented you with a head piece made of khaki cloth, amber and rubies with stray pieces of shells. You handmaidens were quick with it, pinning it onto your hair as Daemon made his arrangements. Caraxes looked over the Watergardens, whistling just as ecstatically as his rider as he perched himself on the beach mount.

The universe seemed to have been in agreement of your emotions, the wind on the beach picked up; cooling your overwhelmed and hot skin. The skies were clear, twinkling in stars and the full moon as the complimented the low tided waves crashing ashore. Your own servants had been quick, decorating the gardens with yellow and red candles and exotic Bravosi flower arrangements placed on vases. Daemon awaited you by the shore line.

Your hands held a dhanuchi, clay burners that held sizzling coal pieces accompanied with sandalwood. You hiked your skirts up, walking towards Daemon, counting your steps as your bare feet hit the sand, you were trying your hardest to breathe; he stood their awaiting you looking as galant as the day he received you at the Blackwater ports, it was from that day you knew your fate would be painted black in his name.

Daemon turned, toying with a black obsidian dagger as his eyes softened the second he saw you. He held his hand out for you take as you stopped next to him, placing the dhanuchi at the alter.

“This will hurt,” He whispered, gesturing to the dragon glass daggers. You shook your head, no pain would compare to the three moons you had spent without him. He lifted the edge against your bottom lip, drawing blood as he gently slashed a cut, he guided your hands to do the same. The taste of copper filled your mouth, a stinging sensation ran through your lips; one you knew would only soothe once you felt his lips on yours.

Blood of two, joined as one

You cut a gash on your palm, wincing as blood trickled to the surface; Daemon did the same with his before grasping your bloodied palm within his. The priest wrapped a silk across your palms, your lover’s lilac eyes held concern for your pains and yet wild adoration. You were to be his. Blood began to trickle into the cup of wine placed under you as the priest continued.

Ghostly flame and a song of shadows

Daemon marked your forehead with his blood, you followed his lead as the priest instructed the symbol you drew, he then offered you the cup of wine laced with your blood. You eyes never once left Daemon’s as you sipped on the strong wine before giving him the cup to do the same.

Two hearts as embers, forged in the fourteen fires

His hands came to rest at your cheek, both growing restless of the vows as he wiped the dripping blood from your lips.

A future promised in glass, the stars stand witness.

You pulled yourself closer to him, one might say you were dazed from the blood loss, in truth it was Daemon’s lilac eyes, how his hands caressed your skin. The wanting fires that engulfed the alter seeming leave everything in ashes but the two of you.

The vows spoken through time, of light and darkness.

He whispered along with the priest.

There was no shame in the way your lips crashed against one another, you tasted his blood on your tongue and yet his hands scorched your skin, almost consuming your body whole as his hands wandered everywhere as his lips claimed you. A stray tear fell from your eyes as your held onto his face, letting his tongue explore yours. You couldn’t breathe from the passion of it all, not that you cared; you life was now his to do with as he pleased.

You rested on Daemon’s lap as he lounged on your window bed, working a healers poultice on the cut of his palm, still lingering in the after effects of wedding. His hands gently returned the favour as he wrapped yours in gauze, you prayed that it would scar; it was a testament for your devotion.

“There- all fixed sweet wife.” Daemon whispered, nudging his nose against your cheek. Heat immediately rose to you cheek as you looked away, you were his wife.

You shuffled off of him, you walked to the steaming dhanuchi that you had carried back to your bed chambers, you bed chambers smelled sweet from it aroma. You had lit in hopes of being blessed by the fertitly goddess, that your marriage remaind pure and secure for eternity. You pushed you skirts always as you climbed onto your bed, letting the steam grace and bless your bed with your unconditional wish.

You dropped the burner on the floor after, letting it submerge the room in its sweet smoke. You awaited your husband as he rid himself of his tunic, you shuffled closer as you sat on your knees. Admiring his toned body and taking account for every battle scar on his skin that you would spend the rest of your life healing with your love.

“Will- will you bed me now, husband?” You whispered, your lips dangerously closer to his, begging for another kiss.

“Oh, I plan to do more than just bedding you.” His lips moulded against yours once more as his hands tugged on the ties of your blouse.

“I conquer Dorne tonight,” He teased, peppering kisses to your temple down to you cheek. He pushed you back on the bed, almost immediately pouncing on top.

He grasped your wrists with one hand, pushing them above your head as he laid siege upon your neck. Laying warm- wet kisses and bruising nips at your neck; his hair tickling at your bare skin as your squirmed underneath him. There was no reasoning to the gentle throb that began pulsing at your core- you rubbed your thigh closer to make it halt. He pushed aside your unlaced blouse, your chest heaved as he suckled on your breast, pulling and licking the hardening pebble in his mouth.

You back arched if the bed, pushing your chest into his mouth, small open mouthed gasps left your mouth as his fingers danced past your navel; yanking on the fastening strings of skirts. His hands pushing your skirts and small clothes down at once, unwrapping you like present as your laid in his ordered positioning.

You succumbed to your exposure, you moved your head in shame, opting to look out at the glaring moon as it witnessed your de-flowerinng. Daemon took offence to your actions, using his fingers to guide your chin towards him as he groaned in disapproval.

“Three moons apart and you dare look away from me?” Daemon cocked his brow at you, freeing your hands as he ventured lower on your body.

“I- forgive me, my prince.” You whispered, your lungs refraining you from speaking any louder

“Husband,” He corrected as he pushed you legs apart.

“Husband.” You mewled in shame as his fingers stroked your folds that looked by the minute. His lips latched onto your inner left thigh, sucking and nipping at the skin.

All the while his eyes remained devious yet absurdly comforting, the two fingers that drew circles on your thighs or a small groans he left against your skin, indicative of how much he was truly enjoying himself. Just for his own satisfaction he marked your thighs at several spots, leaving darkening marks for you to reminisce over in the coming fortnight.

You felt intoxicated, revelling in the way his tongue wet your outer folds before indulging in the saccharine delight that was your cunt, a shameless moan echoed through your bed chambers as you felt his tongue flicking at a much sensitive spot. He moaned against your mound the second your taste hit his tongue.

His palm, large enough to lay flat over your soft belly to hold you flush a against the bed as he took his liberties, lapping at your like his last meal had been consumed days before. His eyes bore into yours, his own demeanour turning to command, strumming the pleasures of your body to his own rhythm.

“Such a sweet delight,” He complimented, mostly to distract you from his finger easing into your tightness. You immediately clenched down on the intrusion. “This shall ease the discomfort.” He elaborated before spitting onto your folds

Your head fell backwards in shame, focusing on the comforting caresses in your torso as Daemon plunged his finger in knuckle deep. You couldn't take the prolonging tasks no longer. You whined, pawing at Daemon’s trousers.

“Please, please have me already.” You begged, you wanted to feel him within you. You could careless of the pain or discomfort, you just wanted to be one

“Take them off,” He instructed, your hands immediately worked on unbuttoning his pants, before digging your fingers into her rear to pull them down. His cock- that thing hung pliant between his legs. Part of you looked up at him curiously, and the other half wondered how your envious would engulf such a monstrosity. Your eyes silently asked for permission, to which Daemon simply stroked your hair as your wrapped your hand around the warm appendage. You were unsure of what to do.

“Stroke it, gently.” He guided you as you followed, feeling his cock twitch in your hands as you moved your hands back and forth. His tip soon glistened in moisture leaking from within. All Daemon could think of were your sweet lips wrapped around his cock and yet there was an eternity to teach you of the pleasures of the flesh. “Good girl,” He cooed.

He urged you to lay back against the pillows, working his length to harden to its full potential. He hesitated, having taken many maiden heads before, he needed this to be delicate as he tore through yours. He circled his tip at your sensitive rose bud before pushing at your entrance. You gasped out loud, letting you arms wrap around his shoulders as he inched forwards.

The stretch of his efforts shot a stinging sche through your pelvis, and he halted. Kissing your cheek and cooing at you in an attempt to alleviate even a fraction of the discomfort you were in. He advanced all the way in, hoping to let your ride out the waves of pain; you cried out louder and yet there was a little more left to go

“Look at me, just me. I shall make it better.” He groaned, hoping to suppress his own pleasures that coursed through his body, your tightness strangling his cock with threats of nearly milking him dry before anything had even begun. He felt selfish for feeling bliss as you silently wept underneath him, he caressed your cheek, the thing he held onto as his lips kissed your face. Peppering kisses to your forehead and your lips, over and over again as he inched forward

“Dae-” You shrieked as he finally bottomed out within you, the pressure of the stretch making your eyes well in more tears. You pulled yourself closer to him, trying to muffle your weeps on the crook of his neck. His arm reaches under you to support your neck. His deeper voice whispered encouragements as he awaited you to adjust to the pain.

“Look at how well you take me,” He whispered in between kisses that he pressed in your temples “Made just for me, aren't you? My sweet little wife.”

“Just for you,” You sniffled, letting yourself rest back against the pillows.

There was a humiliating familiarity in the way your aches encouraged your actions, you shuffled underneath him. Hoping to get him to move and yet he solely focused on doting on your body.

“Husband-” You whimpered, making his eyes shoot to you as they were focused on where the two of you were connected just moments before. He hummed in acknowledgement

“Can you- um please.” You stuttered, almost frustrated at yourself for losing your wording this easy.

“You have to tell me sweet wife, show me what you need.” He asked, urging his will into your answer.

“Please move- I need you to move.” You requested, he smiled before angling his hips backwards; hissing wantonly in the process and you mewled under him. There was pain within the first few thrusts and yet the deranged tendencies of your blood milked pleasure from the pain that subsided to a subtle pressure in your belly.

Daemon lost his composure, uttering vulgarities in your ear; the most obscene of sentences paired with the sweets of names he had picked for you.

“Perfect little hole, taking me so well,” He’d compliment one minute.

“Should have fucked this cunt the first day I laid eyes on you sweet girl,” The next he’d complain of the things he’d regretted.

He held your jaw, a feral smirk adoring his lips as he took your apart, your bangles clicking as your body bounced with his determined thrusts.

“Daemon!” You shrieked, such hurtful pleasure causing you to bed for such sinful things

“Just like that, scream your husband’s name.” He grunted, “Let all of Dorne know who owns this pretty body. Go on tell me.”

“You do, you do.” Cries poured from your lips as you held onto his forearms. “My Daemon,” You moaned as pulled yourself up to kiss his lips.

“Yes, yes sweet girl. All yours.” His deviant smile widened. Your cunt began to flutter around him, such flattery could mean just one thing as Daemon pushed his pelvis against yours, his thrusts grinding at your nub.

“That’s it, just lay there and take my seed,” He growled, his playing again harshly grasping your jaw to make you look at him.

“Dae- Daemon!” The ever impending storm began to paw at your insides,

Not long now- “I want it, I want babes and so much more. Please, please.” You begged to hope that itch would finally give way, and so it did. With no warning and only a scream of your husband’s name, your body erupted in ecstasy.

Daemon groaned out loud, muttering praises of your name, good girl, his sweet girl. Yes, you were. All for him as you loomed on a cloud perched high above the ground, you only registered Daemon’s thrusts faltering and warm filling your core, and then you felt Daemon’s caresses on your skin as you coaxed your heaving body to stability.

“Still with me?” He whispered against your hair and all you could muster was a lazy nod against his chest. You hissed feeling his cock leave your opening, he pushed you through it all. Letting his body weight do the work for you as he pulled himself to sit up along with you.

You finally opened your eyes, blinking away stray tears as he wiped at the trails of moisture on your cheeks. He bundled your exhausted body against his as he lifted you off your bed, walking you along to your chaise before wrapping a spare blanket against both your bodies, almost rocking your vulnerable body to a humming under his breath.

Maids poured into the clear martial bed, they all frowned at the image of their beloved Lady Martell curled against a dragon without a care as you nuzzled against him. Daemon snapped his fingers at them as they began to carry the bloodied sheets away, gesturing to the corner of the room for them to leave it behind. He planned to gift it to his brother’s council, as a warning.

There was nothing anybody could refuse Daemon Targaryen from- that and that he had a new wife. A wife of his choice, a wife he intended on loving until his death bed.

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cyanogen-miasma · 10 months ago

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Otto the Elephant Alpha

I did this months ago and got bogged down on his spawning animation and forgot to post - I'm not planning on finishing the spawning animation, but it's a Sun-looking thing

Otto plays a part in what I like to call the Appondale War, which is this little thing I have going on in my animal jam AU

where, essentially, in the time where the animals were distrustful of each other and took their heartstones with them, some of the animals went to Appondale, and the different species vied for control of the savannah - the animals going there being animals that come from the savannah eg elephants, crocodiles, lions, hyenas, rhinos, cheetahs. Otto was the leader of a group that was trying to defend Appondale against the Phantoms while trying to mend the distrust between the animals in Appondale. He failed, and was felled and imprisoned in the elephant heartstone, but when the Alphas brought elephants back to Jamaa, he was given Alpha status for his valour. Contrary to his Sun motif, he actually defends against the Sun by bringing rain to areas with droughts, and letting smaller animals gather in the shade he casts. Pretty stand-up guy.

#art #artists on tumblr #animal jam minor alphas #animal jam otto #animal jam #jamblr #ajc #aj classic #elephant #aj elephant #aj otto #aj alpha

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moreespressoformydepresso · 3 months ago

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I want the tributes to escape and parkour through the Capitol to escape the cops peacekeepers. Someone films it (as well as the peacekeepers failing hilariously to keep up) and it goes viral.

The kids got away by knocking out the peacekeepers coming to drag them into the cattle car and scatter in all directions, taking the opportunity to wreak havoc across the city. It doubles as a diversion for Circ and Teslee to cause a Capitol-wide power outage and for Ginnee and Otto to hijack them a totally awesome truck to cruise away in.

Mizzen and Sheaf run around causing property damage with their antics, Brandy and Tanner are busy egging the Crane household, Panlo finds news reporters to livestream as many Ways In Which Gaius Breen Sucks And Should Break His Toes Kicking Rocks, Lucy Gray is performing a song (possibly with the help of Treech, Reaper and Velvereen) while actively getting chased, Facet is breaking into Livia’s room to destroy her makeup and deface every possession of hers he can find with it, Marcus is reconciling with Sejanus so they can team up and cause mayhem, Sabyn is cashing in on Forus’ offer to give her fashion products, Dill and Hy are collecting medicine, and generally there is Chaos.

Gaul tries to have the records deleted but it is a lost cause. Everyone remembers.

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tweedfrog · 6 months ago

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OK I've been thinking about the "I have sinned" // "I do not wish to hear of it" convo between Alicent and Otto in particular as it comes right after this shot of Otto holding Alicent's hand with both of his own

Now where else have we seen a shot like this?

Now obviously this could just be a mannerism Alicent has picked up from Otto in the same way Aegon has inherited picking at his nails/fingers in anxiety from Alicent.

BUT coming as it does right before Alicent tries to confess her "sin" to Otto and he shuts her tf down I think another possible way to interpret this scene is that Otto thinks Alicent is trying to confess something she did regarding Rhaenyra which she is now feeling guilty over due to the death of Jaehaerys and that he's trying to tell her he doesn't want to hear about it. Not because he doesn't care about Alicent but because he doesn't care that she's "sinned" as he doesn't view it as a sin.

I think Otto has been shown to not really believe the stuff he professes but rather that he's the type of person to use things like religion and patriarchy as a useful shield. Eg he certainly was willing to exploit Alicent and Rhaenyras "close relationship" in season 1 to try to manipulate Rhaenyra.

In contrast Alicent seems to actually believe in the ideology she espouses and she clearly has a lot of trauma and guilt associated with breaking taboos in the faith of the seven. I very seriously doubt she'd ever publicly intentionally imply that her and Rhaenyra had anything but the average friendship between 2 ladies.

Not only do the relationships on team green suffer from a lack of time and care because they've all got bigger fish to fry. In my opinion they suffer from terminal "I don't know the right way to love you-itis". Because they way team green keeps trying to offer care to one another is the way that they themselves would like NOT the way the other party wants to receive it.

Otto might think he's helping his daughter by telling her he doesn't wish to hear of her sins but he's not because the way Alicent views it he doesn't care enough about her to listen to her get this off her chest.

#i ALSO think if you want to take this in a darker direction #alicent is clutching onto rhaenyras hand like this because she views her romantically #and otto is clutching onto alicents hand like this because in his mind she is a replacement for his dead wife #hotd #hotd spoilers

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insom-nom-nom-niatic · 1 year ago

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Welome to tonight's drunk drabbles...

Set after Troy "died" that's all you need to know.

CHARACTERS: Troy Otto X Fem Reader

PROMPT IS FROM THIS LIST!

16. “I had a thought.” “Oh no.” “I swear it’s a good one this time!’

“I had a thought.”

Troy's blue eyes glanced up from the //// he was doing

“Oh no.” He could see you wiping the sleep from your eyes. Another dream. Another new way to 'save' humanity as if you hadn't already done enough for multiple lifetimes. And it would be yet another downfall of tears he'd have to see you go through knowing there is no more hope, just living or trying to.

“I swear it’s a good one this time!" Your hands hit flat on the table in front of the curly brunette. His eyes scan you from your fingertips to your eyes slowly. Inhaling a deep breath before sighing it's release. His blue orbs egging you to go on.

For a full 20 minutes, you sat in the wooden chair opposing Troy at his desk, spilling out your idea in full detail, barely taking a half second to breathe between sentences. You took the notebook from under his left hand, opening to a blank page and scribbling your plan so he can see it, not just hear it. When his eyes began to gloss over, staring intently at the book that only he wrote in, that only he touched you quickly quieted down.

A few silent moments passed before you sheepishly spoke again.

"Just think about it. That's all I'm saying."

Troy sat in complete stillness for a heartbeat or two. His mind turning over the 'brilliant' idea you dreamt of during your nap. Most of the ideas you came back to the living with were ways to help the living, cures or new medical practices for survival.

This time you awoke with a plan for war.

"You're saying to use them as a weapon? To our advantage?"

Troy raised an eyebrow, making sure he heard you correctly. His eyes had a certain sparkle to them... surprise laced with pride? He was proud of his girl changing the course of the future. Not once did he think you of all people would be the one to come up with such a devastating idea for those that would oppose your group of survivors.

He liked it. He liked it a lot.

"An army, yeah. Use the dead as an army against them."

#troy otto #ftwd #fear the walking dead #troy otto fanfic #troy otto fic #troy otto x reader #nom-noms dd

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detroitlib · 1 year ago

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Biblia Latina, fragment.

Ms. France or southern Flanders, early fourteenth century. Written in dark brown ink in a regular Gothic hand; text in 2 columns of 50 lines. Decoration: 11-line initial P historiated with standing figures of the Virgin and six men (one with nimbus) in colors against burnished gold background, with full-length bar border sprouting into sprays of ivy leaves (including a small dragon figure), in gold and colors; 6-line illuminated initial, with full-length bar border with sprays of ivy leaves extending along left margin, in gold and colors; 3-line illuminated initial with full-length bar border of ivy leaves extending along right margin of verso, in gold and colors; headlings in red, chapter numbers and running titles in alternating red and blue letters. This leaf is from a lectern Bible once owned by lawyer and judge Mirmellus Arnandi and left to a Dominican convent in 1450. The manuscript was sold at Parke-Bernet, New York, 30th November 1948, lot 326 to Otto F. Ege (1888-1951) who dispersed the leaves.

c.1300

Rare Book Collection, Detroit Public Library

#biblia latina #manuscript #latin #bible #ms #14th century #illuminated manuscript #medieval #middle ages #books #ege #arnandi #gothic #ms.#mss #detroit public library

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end-orfino · 1 year ago

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i'm watching superhorrorbro's new video and while i disagree with some things he's saying, one comment got me thinking again about what happened to Otto and his sister, anyway? We don't know much, but I think we know just enough to throw some loose speculations? It seems like only children who were somehow traumatized/badly treated are able to reach the Nowhere (something superhorrorbro states, but it seemed pretty clear considering everything), that's the first thing. Also, if Otto is still not capable of moving on from Sisi's disappearance YEARS later, having lived the majority of his life without her at this point, then that means that she must have been incredibly important to him, and everything could have possibly gone downhill for him after she disappeared. Another thing to note is that Sisi was the older one of them two.

My personal guess was that Sisi and Otto had a somehow bad living situation when they were kids - maybe their parents were abusive, maybe they were entirely left to fend for themselves, I don't know. I don't think we have enough information to speculate on what exactly it was. What matters here is that this would have possibly lead to Sisi, as the older one, to be Otto's main caretaker - someone who carried most of the weight of their situation on her shoulders, trying to make most of what they had for her little brother. At the same time, Otto wasn't offering the same kind of support to her, although I don't think it was because of malice, but because of him being too young to realize how much she struggled and/or lacking a way to help her. (I'm especially basing it off him saying he was just a boy after Noone claimed that Sisi could have felt relieved to be free from him. I'm guessing he would have realized over the years that Sisi was struggling more than he could have known back when she was still with him.)

Still, this DID lead to Sisi being incredibly important for Otto. She would have been the main person who cared for him, and I doubt that his situation would have gotten better after she vanished. I think this would be able to explain why he gets so obsessed with finding a way to reunite with her as soon as an ocassion shows up. After so many years, he could even have a somewhat twisted, biased view of her as a person, thinking of the time she was with him as the "better times", having some kind of weird nostalgia(?) for it.

TL;DR: I think Sisi and Otto were stuck in some kind of bad living situation (eg. abusive parents, but we don't have enough info to speculate about what it could have been.) This led to Sisi, as the older one of the two, caring for Otto most of the time without having much support from anywhere herself. Because of this, she was hurt enough to eventually vanish to the Nowhere, leaving Otto - who she was incredibly important to as his main caretaker - to fend for himself in whatever situation they were dealing with. This would explain why her disappearance had such an effect on him that even now, as an adult, he is not capable of moving on from it, and grows progressively more obsessed over trying to reunite with her.

#im sorry if this is rambly/isn't making much sense. I didn't proofread anything other than the tldr #the sounds of nightmares #tson otto #little nightmares #little nightmares otto #the sounds of nightmares otto #i dont know what tag IS the main one for him i have no idea #tson sisi #cici

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oliveroctavius · 1 year ago

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If it's okay to ask, I'm curious what your initial thoughts are on the potential plot for the Insomniac Spidey sequel game! I'm still sorting my thoughts, but one of the things that definitely crossed my mind was how the story trailer reminded me of both TASM films (eg. terminally ill Harry as a major villain, the main villain plot being forcibly 'healing' the world, and we know from the MM post-credits scene that Connors is behind Harry's treatment with the symbiote, etc.), and while the main issue with the eugenics stuff in the TASM films is how it was framed as being both real and good and neither Peter nor the narrative ever challenges it, rather than just the villains being villainous and it could go differently here, I'm really not sure how optimistic to be at this point in speculation - but it's also not an aspect of the trailer I've seen much discussion on either.

having gone over the original game again, (geez I forgot how hard they went on the Spider-Cop bit) I still don't feel as pessimistic on this plot point as others seem to be... yet.

MSM1 had parallels to TASM1 too, without fumbling the ball as hard. Main villain starts as an ally researching limb replacement, partially for themselves; plot turning point is a Oscorp gene-cure-mist being released into the city with terrible results. It helps that Insomniac's medical science is just 50% less bullshit. Devil's Breath names a real genome editing tech (CRISPR by viral vector) and genetic diseases that aren't just disabling, but fatal (cystic fibrosis, Huntington's) as the intended target. There's no TASM-esque twist where victims with improperly edited genes become a ''devolved'' ''lower lifeform'' or turn murderous. They just get sick.

Otto doesn't consider using Devil's Breath on himself. His condition isn't even genetic. Dumb to have to point that out, but TASM Curt compares limb loss to agonizing death by disease (??) and proposes his amputation be "fixed" with genetic modification (???) while Otto's focus is on (embellished) mobility aids. The idea that brain damage from the arms made Otto evil is brought up and then refuted. Martin and Otto have social + financial motivations which overlap with but aren't fully defined by disability. They're well-intentioned extremists: they want to take down a crooked capitalist who's politically untouchable... time to poison random civilians!

Going by these trends: I expect Harry to have a fairly realistic diagnosis and to use real assistive aids alongside any sci-fi treatments (he has a cane for a second in the trailer). I expect that if he did inherit his condition it was from his mother, and the only person who might be weird about that is Norman. Insomniac Harry's previous vision for "healing the world" has been air and water quality, green energy, and wildlife health. If this changes, I expect a more nuanced explanation than "idk he's sick and crazy now".

Will I actually like it? Who knows! (Like MJ was fine. but she's not My MJ.) I'm still crossing my fingers for sentient alien Venom because I think it would make everything more interesting to have Venom the character rather than just the plot device.

I'm truly more worried for Curt--most of the Insomniac plotlines are pulled from modern comics. (For the love of god please let's not do Shed.) But comics Devil's Breath was a poison that killed only certain genetic lineages, and someone made the call to avoid that minefield of weird ideas. So. Hope remains that this will not be the TASM movies' kind of freakshow.

#had even more thoughts during this ask abt Martin Li and TASM Electro as well as the treatment of Oscorp but this is already so long #ps4 #/ ableism #curt connors #harry osborn

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nyxrev · 2 years ago

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Details

Just some stuff I noticed, from small to serious.

旦那 (dan'na)

K so I found it funny Black Sperm calls Saitama “dan'na” bc the term can mean different by its context, eg. an honorific for husband, patron, or master, etc. I believe it's translated to English as “Boss” which is most fit but when I first read it I automatically associated it with “master” of the more softer nuances and not the rougher casual “hey boss” sort of vibe, so I was surprised like, huh BS is unusually deferential to Saitama, esp. bc the rest of his speech pattern is fairly casual. But, makes sense bc he's seen enough to know. Also makes sense bc on one hand, rn he has to pretend to be a benign, goofy “monkey” …idk how ppl see a black teletubby n just believe it's monkey but s'ok, story logic… to get by heroes, hence the casual goofy monkey speech, but on the other, he absolutely does not want to cross Saitama, so he chooses to refer to him politely.

master (of a house, shop, etc.)

husband: can be used to refer to your own, or smb else's husband (add honorifics). Some other ways of address: 夫 otto, 主人 shujin,

sir; boss; master; governor: used to address a male patron, customer, or person of high status

patron of a mistress, geisha, bar or nightclub hostess; sugar daddy (パトロン)

alms; almsgiver: Buddhism, usually written as 檀那 for Buddhist context

As you can see, a non-exhaustive list of what it can mean. With automatic association to house -hold and patronage nuances, my mental image got mildly confused for a moment. Like can you really see an obeisant, nice little BS who humbly serves Saitama with utmost formality??

I feel myself make an uneasy face I cannot quite describe.

Also it was good to see him ask about Manako, but I do want to know if she's alive and safe.

Homewrecker? No it's (unlicensed) Demolition. Opennenoorn Get Out

^after the scene when Forte got hit, Fubuki told Saitama to go with her and said:

あなたの住処を破壊した張本人に会わせてあげる

Basically the reason she gave for their excursion was, “I'll let you meet the person responsible for the destruction of your residence.”

Whom I thought was Psykos bc at the moment, we saw parallel scenes of Tsukuyomi guy at her cell and Tatsumaki had not arrived, but Saitama doesn't know Psykos yet, so when Fubuki made her speech, Saitama confused without so much as context to who all the ppl on scene are, then Tatsumaki arrives most destructively, he must have thought it could be absolutely no other than the “chibi” who threw Genos on a wall.

Which is why Saitama went “I see, the one who destroyed my home was…(Tatsumaki) ಠ ◡ ಠ##”

But I had to wonder who did Fubuki really mean to refer to with “the person who destroyed your place”? If Fubuki meant Psykos how would Saitama react?

Fortress Haven or Death Maze?

Hige Coffee: lit. Beard Coffee (lol)

Well it's good to see Max and Shadow on break, but an emergency call cuts it short, and amidst the commotion, one of them (I assume it's Max) laments the place is so big it's easy to get lost.

What can I say, it's almost like the new HQ, with its concentrated yet puzzled pyramid structure, complete with a moat of self-isolation, remotely omniscient surveillance, a manufactured façade of paradise with luxury security atop seven hells of hidden disasters eager to be released, and so on…almost like it's a direct visual representation of HA's operation hierarchy: centralized system of power and economic monopoly, yet rife with office politics, factions at tension, dysfunctional management, corrupt unstable foundation, and unsavoury secrets to hide.

Cohesively staffed, an impregnable fortress. Yet improperly managed, an exit-less death maze.

And I say it bc the place is not only complicated and spacious but also uniform. Its grand Jenga-Lego stack of cluster structures look so similar, if not literally the same, from every angle, if you rotated it on a turntable, I couldn't tell the sides from each other nor which faced NESW at first.

Of course, part of why they got lost is, it's newly built, heroes just moved to residency, obviously, it's not out of expectation for heroes, or anyone who's never step foot there for the matter, to be unfamiliar with exact floor plan details of such a vast, complex structure, its design sleek at best and dystopian at worst.

But I must wonder, for I feel like it will become a problem later, HQ's isolated vast complexity… If it doesn't fall apart from its core first, what with overpowered resident, destructive visitors, and let's not forget the basement full of a nasty little monstrosity of pets the corrupt executives keep for cash flow they don't use to pay heroes.

Air and Blue Fire: Cyborg Surgery?

On a scale of beneficial to suspicious, question.

Notice the text right next to Air? It's an SFX.

キュイーン kyui—n (onomatopoeia): like a whirr sound effect, low sounds of machinery at work, usually small technical ones which contract or spin. For example, camera lens… how ominous, don't you think?

While Forte is eager to get out of bed and make a quick work of the noisy monsters who disturb his already bad day, blow off convenient steam, it looks like Air can't even emote natural, human facial expressions, and it unsettles me so!

If you look long enough it almost looks like he is controlled like a puppet Σ(-᷅_-᷄⁉︎)

As for BlueFire, I can't tell if it's an empty sleeve or a prosthetic arm but hopefully he got an arm with extra spicy flamethrower fingers so he can be extra terribly efficient. He'd probably max his specs to roast evildoers out of spite. I sense one step to Genos. Same age, similar personality.

Bonus: List of Every Hero Present

aka. faces you see the last moments of your life, if you happen to be a mischievous monster at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Top panel: Golden Ball, Spring Mustachio, Red Muffler, Funeral Suspenders, D-pad, bottom L hat prolly Gun Gun, Shooter, Smile Man, Skunk-Boy Gasmask, top L corner Eyelashes, Mohawk Hacker, Brass Knuckles guy, Great Philosopher, Magic Trick Man, Darkness Blade, Bones, prolly Blue Fire's back (front of Bones), All Back Man? (didn't he quit?), Butterfly DX, Kusari-Gama, Mushroom, Horse-Bone, Twin Tails, can't tell who the mop of dark hair next to her is but prolly Blizzard member, Tank-Top Al-Dente, Tank-Top Rockabilly, another two Blizzards by the suit,

Bottom: Eyelashes, Brass Knuckle, Spiked Club Blizzard, L- Max, Genji, Stinger, Tank-Top Mask, Tank-Top Racer, Crescent Eyebroll, Green, Wild Horn, Skunk Boy Gasmask, Tank-Top Al-Dente, Tank-Top Rockabilly, a sliver of Darkness Blade, Heavy Kong.

Fubuki Group? More like Mafia?

Look at how they stand. Look at how they walk. Look at their formation. If each of them were as strong as Needle Star got, fought as well as the support team cooperated, if equally valued and given opportunity to contribute their expertise, they truly would be formidable, fearsome foes, and reliable allies Fubuki can trust to hold their own and not constantly worry about. Of course part of the problem is Fubuki's own insecurities but we know she has the potential to be a great leader if she put her focus on the right path and used her power to maximum beneficial strategy

Counted around 33 members without Fubuki or Saitama. Rowdy Suit Gang. Mountain Ape n Lily stand out and you can see them from far away.

Extra Bonus: Spot the Spy 6-6

Nah cuz I really need to talk about the cursed Tsukuyomi guys. I brewed some praises n some toasty roasty jokes. I need to cook some wacky, juicy conspiracy about them. Just a little gentle speculation.

#opm #one punch man #opm manga #hero association #thoughts #saitama #overgrown rover #black sperm #tatsumaki #fubuki #forte #air #cyborg #body modification #organization #suspicious #blizzard group #traitors #among us

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