#i repeat: hotd was a mistake

[dragondream-ing]

Would be f-ing great if team green stans stayed in their lane so I can read posts by my fave Targaryen enjoyers without seeing their disgusting r*pe apologia in the comments. Why tf do they seek out team black posts just to spread their bs??? Why not woobify their fave sex pests and usurpers in their own spaces smfh

[maidragoste]

Worry

Frank Langdon x Wife!Reader

Summary: You start to worry when your husband takes more days off than usual.

Now you can read part two here! The Pitt Masterlist

Okay, I'm very excited and nervous to write something that isn't about hotd, but I actually enjoyed writing it, so I want to share it.

As I always say, please don't hesitate to like, comment, and reblog. The interactions always motivate me to keep writing 🥰🥰💖💖

If you have any ideas, questions or headcanons you want to share, my inbox is always open 🤗💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

I hope you have a good reading!

The first day Frank stayed home, you didn't suspect a thing. You believed him when he told you he'd requested a day off after working extra shifts.

You and the kids were happy to have Frank all to yourselves. You all went to the park for a while, and at night, you watched Encanto and snuggled up on the couch after your husband made dinner.

It was a beautiful day, being able to sleep in, having breakfast together, and having your husband by your side helping you with the chaos of the kids. Hearing your kids's laughter, watching Frank being a father. You melt every time you hear him patiently explain something to the kids or when you see him hugging the kids. You loved these days, but you married a doctor and you knew that the next day Frank would be off saving lives and might come back too tired to give the kids his full attention.

The next morning came and, like every morning, you two woke up to his alarm. Frank quickly turned it off so as not to wake the kids, and when he saw that you were starting to move away from him to get up to make him breakfast, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him, your bodies pressed together.

“Don’t get up. I’m staying home,” he said, placing a kiss on your neck. You turned to look at him, confused. “What? I want to stay longer with my favorite girl and my buddies.” This time he kissed you on the lips, and you were distracted by the love your husband was giving you.

On the second day, you didn't go to the park; you all stayed home and made a fort in the living room with pillows and sheets, playing cards. That night, Frank cooked dinner again.

The third day came and you began to suspect. This time, your alarm didn't wake you up; you woke up alone—your biological clock had probably gotten used to always waking up at the same time—and you found your husband already awake, staring at the ceiling.

"What's wrong?" you asked, letting him know you were awake.

“Nothing,” he replied instantly, and you didn't believe him. He didn't look as relaxed as he had the morning before, but rather tense. “I'm staying home. You can go back to sleep.”

This time, you hugged him and let him rest his head on your chest. “I love you,” you said, hoping he'd understand the meaning behind it.

I'm here. I'm here to listen to you whenever you're ready. You can tell me anything, and I'll still love you.

“I love you more,” he said, feeling a lump form in his throat. He didn't want to disappoint you.

On the third day, you all stayed home again. You made cookies together and checked on Frank. You noticed he was more discouraged.

Fourth day. Again, there was no alarm; you woke up to find Frank staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. You didn't ask him what was wrong, just went to hug him.

"I love you," you reminded him again.

"I love you more," he repeated, caressing your hand.

You didn't need to ask; you both knew he'd stay home again.

You didn't go out. Everyone played board games. Frank was still discouraged, and you noticed he was constantly looking at his phone as if he was waiting for something, which made you worry even more, and you decided to be direct that night.

“Can we talk?” you asked as soon as Frank came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth, ready to go to sleep.

Frank felt his body tense instantly. “Of course,” he said, trying to act as if nothing had happened, and he sat down next to you on the bed.

You took your husband's hand and looked him in the eyes. You gathered your courage and began to speak. “I'm worried about you. I know something happened, and you're not telling me.” You never stopped stroking his hand. “I just want to help you. Please, let me help you. Don't push me away. I'm here for you,” you pleaded with sad eyes, causing a lump to form in your husband's throat.

Frank let out a shaky breath. He didn't want to disappoint you. He didn't want to change your image of him. What if he told you what he'd done and you walked away? What if you took him away from the kids? That would kill him. He couldn't be without either of you; you and the kids are the best things in his life. He didn't want to lose you and them. But if he didn't tell you the truth, he knew he'd definitely lose you. You'd never forgive him if he lied to you now.

“I messed up,” he said.

“In the hospital?” you asked, just to be sure.

He nodded, his eyes glazed over, and you squeezed his hand tightly. “Yes.”

You looked at him silently, waiting for him to continue.

“I-I,” he found it hard to say because now that days had passed since what happened, he felt ashamed of how he handled the situation. “I stole medication from patients and I got caught. Robby found out and sent me home, but I went back to the hospital because of Pittfest. I tried to talk Robby out of reporting me, but he didn't agree and didn't react well,” he confessed hastily.

You're shocked and confused. Since when did this start happening? Had you been so focused on the kids that you didn't notice the changes in your husband? How did Frank get to the point of needing drugs so much that he was stealing them from his patients?

"Since when are you an addict?" you asked, and you obviously said the wrong thing because Frank let go of your hand.

"I'm not an addict," he denied instantly, and your concern increased.

“Frank, honey,” your tone held no malice, and you took his face in your hands with the same affection as always. “Think about it, okay? Your normal self would never have thought of stealing from your patients. If you've gone that far, it's because you have a problem,” you said gently.

Frank swallowed. He didn't want to admit it. If he did, it would become serious, and you might even ask him to check himself in and stay away from the children.

“We'll find you help, and you'll be okay, okay?” you continued, hoping to reassure him when you noticed the uncertainty and fear in his blue eyes.

“Please don't take me away from the boys,” he pleaded with a trembling voice, resting his forehead against yours. It broke your heart to see him like that.

“Never,” you promised. “We're in this together. You'll be okay, we'll all be okay,” you broke down. “I love you, forever,” you reminded him and kissed him.

And Frank took refuge in your love, your kisses, and your words. Knowing you'd be with him every step of the way, you'll work together and he'll be fine again.

[endless-ineffabilities]

this world was never meant for a fire like yours (part 4/5)

Daemon Targaryen x modern f!reader

word count: 6k

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

series synopsis: After a fatal injury on the battefield, Daemon wakes up in a foreign land - our world (where GoT / HoTD does not exist). He meets the reader, a nurse who tends to him and helps him navigate everything. They grow close, and slowly, but unequivocally, fall in love.

themes/warnings: language, separation, intense yearning, actual bonding between Daemon and Vizzy, magic use, manipulation

September 2023 / the 9th Moon, 113 AC

The fire in the hearth flickers weakly, casting shadows on the stone walls in Daemon’s chambers. His fingers drum restlessly on the arm on his chair, his mind elsewhere.

Across from him, Viserys is lounging calmly, the faintest smile playing on his lips. He had invited himself in Daemon’s company, under the pretence of discussing the plans of the Realmwalkers. And they did just that, but the King’s eyes remain bright with amusement—a cruel irony, given his brother’s predicament.

Daemon has been back from Korzion for several moons, and he yearns for you to such a degree that it lingers like an ache in his bones.

“So, what was this other realm like?” Viserys breaks the silence, his voice curious. But Daemon mistakes it for taunting. 

“What was it like?” Daemon repeats, his voice a low rumble. He can feel his temper rising, as it almost always does when anything related to you is mentioned. When he has to speak of you, and be reminded that you are an entire world away.

Viserys leans forward, with a boyish eagerness to listen to tales of distant lands. “We never did get to have a proper discussion, brother. I would love to know. The… priestesses… called it the Realm of Steel. Now what does that mean? And its inhabitants are connected to devices? That must have been odd, indeed.”

Daemon stares at the fire, its fading warmth doing little to soothe the melancholy creeping into his thoughts. “You saw it.”

“Why, yes, brother,” Viserys nods thoughtfully, reclining again. “In the brief whisper of a moment that I spent in that realm, I was certainly able to familiarise myself with their ways.” His tone is clearly teasing, but Daemon finds no humour in it.

Daemon clenches his jaw, forcing the words out. “The only thing worth mentioning from the realm, the one thing that would have kept me there—”

“—is her, as you have mentioned before.” Viserys cuts in smoothly.

Daemon glares at his brother icily, his jaw clenching.

Viserys’ smile only widens. “Must you be so cross?” 

“I am not cross,” Daemon responds petulantly. “I am mourning.”

Viserys waves a hand dismissively, as though swatting away a trivial complaint. “You will see her again!”

“And until then, I will remain in mourning.” The finality in Daemon’s tone seems to sober Viserys, if only for a moment. 

“Daemon, you and your penchant for theatrics,” Viserys says, leaning back in his seat, indulging in a private jibe only he understands.

“Are you mocking me?” Daemon’s voice drops to a dangerous whisper. For all his love for his brother, there are moments—far too many moments—when Daemon considers drawing his blade, simply to see if Viserys would still be so smug with Dark Sister at his throat. 

Viserys holds up a hand in a placating gesture, though his eyes still sparkle with mischief. “What if I am? Will you strike at your King?” When his brother merely glowers at him, he continues, “There was something on her table. It possessed a dark hue, with a sheen to it. It looked stiff and peculiar…”

“Aye, she calls it a laptop,” Daemon says, his voice turning softer. He could see it so vividly in his mind—the glowing screen, the smooth surface of the strange object that seemed to hum with a life of its own. You had been understanding when he broke the one you owned originally in a fit of desperation, when the sentient overlord in the object called Google offered no answers.

Viserys’ face twists with confusion. “A lap… top?”

Daemon chuckles darkly at his brother’s obliviousness. “I called it a magic box at first.”

Viserys laughs out loud, the sound filling the chamber. “A magic box?”

“Pray tell,” Daemon drawls, “are you simply going to echo every word I utter?”

“Forgive me, brother,” Viserys says, his laughter dying down. “I am simply… amused.”

Daemon turns to face the hearth, the smirk that tugs at his lips growing impossible to hide. It was absurd, really—the man he had become in that world. A prince, warrior, and dragonlord brought low by strange, glowing boxes and foreign jargon that tumbled awkwardly from his lips. 

But you… you had made him feel like none of it mattered. In your arms, he wasn’t so out of place. 

Daemon sits silent for a moment, the memory of your time together tugging at him as he stares blankly into the flames. His lips twitch into the rarest of smiles—something soft and affectionate, uncharacteristic of the Rogue Prince.

“I nearly set fire to her home once, trying to cook us supper.”

Viserys raised an eyebrow. “You? Cooking?”

“I was so determined. Yet I managed to make a complete mess of something they call pasta. She ended up fixing what I ruined.”

“She must possess the patience of the Mother herself.”

Daemon hums in affirmation. You were a marvel, an anomaly, because you took him in—a complete and total stranger. You saw him, accepted him… and you loved him.

You love him still, Daemon hopes.

“She once took me to this…gods, what did she call it?” Daemon waves a hand vaguely, trying to summon the word from his mind. “A farmer’s market. A market without any actual farmers, mind you. Just a sea of stalls with trinkets and food. She insisted we buy strawberries, and they were strange—too sweet—but she fed me one anyway. Right in front of everyone.” He chuckles at the thought. “We were walking along, her hand in mine, not a care for the smallfolk surrounding us.”

Daemon’s eyes glaze over with a fondness that was rare for him, as he continues sharing more of your world with Viserys. He speaks of how you worked as something called a nurse– a healer—but you were far more skilled than even the Grand Maester himself. He shares how you introduced him to coffee—some bitter, muddy brew he loathed at first but came to crave due to its association with early mornings spent nestled with you on your couch. And how you made him try pizza, which he found oddly addictive.

“She insisted on doing things,” he says, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t quite believe it. “Not just ruling or politicking. Simple things. Like spending hours in a bloody shop trying on clothes that I did not need. But... It made her smile. And I would have done anything to see that smile.”

For a moment, the tension between them lifts, and Viserys watches his brother with an expression somewhere between disbelief and amusement. Daemon, the fearsome warrior, enchanted by something as lowly as venturing into a mundane market, utterly captivated by a woman who lived a life so unlike anything he had ever known.

But as Daemon’s musings grew quieter, his gaze hardened again, the sweetness slipping away. “Enough of this,” he says gruffly. “We must direct our attention on how I will be with her once more.”

October 2023 / the 10th Moon, 113 AC

The hospital’s antiseptic scent wraps around you like a damp cloak as you trudge through the hallways. Every beep of the machines and the chatter of your fellow nurses feels like a reminder of the normalcy you are desperately trying to hold onto. Little do they know, you are living a life that has been effectively tinged by dragonfire. 

You don’t quite feel like a beacon of hope; more like a walking, talking paradox. You try to save lives while secretly plotting how to summon a Targaryen prince from his world.

Your mind flickers to Daemon as you begin your shift. His silver hair, that smug smile, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world — any world. If only he was back at your apartment to welcome you after your rounds, maybe things wouldn’t feel so heavy. But alas, you’re stuck in scrubs and not some elegant and puffy gown like those worn by the noble ladies in his kingdom. 

Hours pass, and after a particularly exhausting shift, you finally make your way to Dessa’s apartment, your mind buzzing with excitement. She is an odd mix of energy and seriousness, her presence a grounding force. The moment you enter her living space, you’re assaulted by the scent of herbs and spices, the walls adorned with what looked like genuine dragon scales. Or maybe they’re just really expensive home decor from an antique shop? Who could say?

“Ready for another night of magical chaos?” Dessa asks, grinning as she sorts through her collection of peculiar knick-knacks.

“Chaos is my middle name,” you quipped, waving a hand dramatically. “At least it is now, thanks to you.”

“Just what I want to hear, my child. And I am honoured to be your guide through this madness.” She picks up a sliver of moonstone and winks. “Shall we start with the moonstone or the raven’s feather this time? Or should we just sacrifice a bloody goat and see what happens?”

You snort at her dark humour. “Let’s stick to the gemstones for now. I’m not ready for gruesome sacrifices.”

Dessa grins as she hands you the moonstone. “Good choice.”

The two of you settle in for your practice, the atmosphere thick with magic and your unspoken hopes. You take a deep breath, recalling the steps that would lead you to Daemon. This is your chance to strengthen your connection, to reach through the veils of reality and grasp him once more.

“Envision your destination clearly,” Dessa instructs, her voice encouraging. “You don’t want to end up in the middle of the Dothraki Sea.”

You laugh nervously, though you’re unsure what or where a Dothraki is. “Right.”

“Priorities, my dear.”

You prick your palm with the moonstone, and the sharp pain jolts you into focus. The blood meets the raven’s feather, and you begin to chant in High Valyrian. The words roll off your tongue, you can feel the energy building, swirling around you like a hurricane, almost intoxicating in its intensity.

But as the ash begins to swirl around you, that familiar sensation of panic surges in your chest. You focus harder, envisioning Daemon, and that wicked smile of his that haunts your dreams. The way he smells, the way he tastes. Just when the memory is strengthened in your mind, a wave of fatigue crashes over you, and everything immediately falters.

“Dessa, I—” You gasped, collapsing against the couch. “I can’t… It’s too much.”

“Take a breath, you can do this,” she urges, but the energy flickers out like a dying flame. “We can try again.”

“I’m starting to feel like a joke,” you mumble dejectedly. Are they sure that you are one of them? Maybe this was all a fluke.

But you try once more and you fail. Over and over. Each attempt feels more hopeless than the last. You could practically hear Daemon's mocking laughter in your head, though you knew he wouldn’t be so cruel—not to you. 

“Let’s take a break,” Dessa suggests, concern knitting her brow. “You’re pushing too hard. It’s not a race.”

But all you could think about was the chasm of distance that lay between you and Daemon. “I just want to see him. I want to feel him.”

After the long night of failure, you trudge home, fatigue pulling at your limbs like lead. You slump onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. The room feels empty, devoid of magic and warmth and Daemon. The excitement that had buoyed your spirits is now like a distant memory.

Just as you begin to drift off, the memory of Daemon flickers behind your eyelids. Suddenly, something sparks within you, igniting the embers of your determination. You shoot up, adrenaline surging through your veins. The thought of giving up is unbearable. The very real possibility of losing him for good is enough to pull you out of your rut.

With a newfound sense of purpose, you gather the same tools from earlier, the moonstone and raven’s feather, and focus your thoughts. You envision Daemon, standing with him in the middle realm.

This time, your heart races not with self-doubt and gloom but with renewed hope. “I will find you,” you whisper to yourself. “I will.”

You prick your palm again, reciting the chant with a fervour you didn’t know you possessed. The energy swirls around you, coiling and tightening, feeding off your will. The feather turns to ash, and the world around you begins to shimmer and crackle, and with a rush that sends a thrill through your core, you feel yourself being pulled into the connection. The fog envelops you, and suddenly, you reach it.

But it isn’t just the middle realm. It’s everything you wanted, everything you long for. 

And then, just like that, he appears. His silver hair gleamed in the soft light, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of surprise and wonder.

“This is real?” 

Your voice comes out soft, hesitant. You’re unsure if you’re speaking to Daemon or to yourself. 

Your senses are overwhelmed, and you feel somewhat floaty, as if you’re nowhere at all. Perhaps you are nowhere, not in your realm and not in Daemon’s, but somewhere in the middle. Everything feels so distant and dreamlike as you glance around, taking in the fog that seems to curl around the furniture, draping your bedroom in a surreal haze. 

“Am I doing this?” You murmur in disbelief. “Is it working?”

Daemon doesn’t answer immediately. He stands frozen, his eyes wide and burning with an intensity that nearly undoes you. Then, something in him breaks, and he charges forward with a purpose, as if nothing else in the world matters but closing the space between you.

He grips you, his hands rough, desperate, holding onto whatever part of you he can—your face, your hips, your hands. His touch is possessive, like a man who fears he’ll lose you again. His lips crash into yours with a raw hunger, and it’s as if the entire world melts away, leaving only him. Your Daemon.

“My darling,” he breathes between kisses, his voice rough with desire. “All of this is fucking astonishing, and we can certainly marvel at what you can do to no end, but quite frankly, right this moment I could hardly bring myself to care.”

His lips devour yours, moving against your mouth with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. He kisses you as if it’s been years, as if this moment might be the last chance he’ll ever get. And for a brief second, the sensation overwhelms you — the smell of him, the feel of his hands gripping you with such raw need. Your fingers tangle in his silver hair, pulling him closer as if you could merge your two bodies together.

Daemon is not one to waste time, that’s for sure. His lips trail down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin of your collarbone as you arch into him.

“I miss you,” you breathe, as he kisses the hollow of your throat.

“As I you, my love.” Daemon purrs, breathing you in. “You simply have no idea…”

But even in the heat of his touch, the fog surrounding you reminds you of the truth. This moment, as real as it feels, is a trick—a fragile connection. You feel him, but not entirely. His body presses against yours, but there’s something missing. You can’t feel the warmth of his skin, can’t hear the familiar rustle of his breath against your ear.

It’s not enough.

“Daemon… this is…” You try to voice out your concern, despite the moment. Dessa was right, your corporeal forms cannot meet through your projection; the two of you stand in your bedroom, but everything seems to be enveloped in a thick haze. If you press hard enough, you think your fingers will simply pass through Daemon as if he were a spectre. You realise that he knows this, too, but chooses to ignore it. 

He tries to brush it off, tries to ground you in the present. “This is the closest we’ve been in far too fucking long, my love.” His voice cracks slightly, his frustration bleeding through. “It would have been sooner if those cunts made greater effort to—”

You snort, confronted once more with how brash he can be. “Daemon, those cunts? Really? I am one of them, you know. Besides, it’s not their fault.”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” he mutters, his lips tugging into a slight smile as he rests his forehead against yours. His hands roam your back, pulling you impossibly closer. “Let me have this. Have you. I need you.”

He’s right. In physical form or otherwise, he is still your Daemon. And you have craved each other too much to be denied any kind of reunion.

“Okay.” Your hand reaches up to cradle his face, and he leans into it. He then looks around, appraising your chambers, as he used to say.

“Nothing has changed.” He hums, while holding you tightly to him, as if he’s afraid that you might dissolve into the fog. “What is this now? Ever the reader, my heart.” He reaches for the crisp, new paperback novel lying on your dresser. 

You snort softly. “Oh, that’s… yeah, someone lent it to me.”

“It certainly does not seem too suited to your tastes.” His tone is bemused, and he turns the book over in his hand. 

You let out a humourless laugh. “Astute observation. It’s my neighbour’s. He apparently thought I needed something new to read.” When he gave you the book, Tom happily explained how he thought you should, “…expose yourself to other things. Things you possibly haven’t tried out before. New films, books, friends. You know to help you forget all about…”

Daemon’s eyes narrow slightly, the shift in his posture immediate, almost imperceptible, but you’ve always been able to read him. He lowers the book slowly, his gaze hardening with suspicion. “Your neighbour — what was he called? Tim?”

“You remember his name, Daemon.” You roll your eyes at your lover, and his poorly-veiled jealousy. You were one and the same.

Daemon’s lips curl, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. “You have been letting him inside your house?” His voice drops an octave, the dangerous undertone unmistakable. His hand rests on your waist, possessive, reminding you that you are his.

You nod slowly, carefully. “He’s been visiting every now and then. It’s not a big deal.”

Daemon tilts his head, his smirk darkening into something more sinister. He leans in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “Has that mongrel taken my place, dearest?”

Your breath catches in your throat, his words sending a jolt of heat through your veins. There’s an unspoken challenge in his voice, and your heart races in response. But you don’t back down.

With a calm you don’t entirely feel, you lift your chin and meet his gaze, eyes locked in a battle of wills. “Has any lady taken mine? In that amazing, grand realm of yours, Prince Daemon?” Your fingers slip beneath the collar of his tunic, the soft fabric yielding to your touch as you ghost your fingertips across his skin.

 Only Daemon has ever been able to elicit this out of you.

He enjoys the way you directly meet his eyes, unwavering in your stead. No one ever looked at him in such a way; not one has ever seen him as you do. Daemon has always inspired fear and intimidation in others. Those who find themselves comfortable enough to hold a conversation with the Rogue Prince tend to feel ill at ease or on their guard. As if he might turn on them at any moment. 

People usually mosey up to him because of a favour. Because of his status, his reputation. Because they want something out of him. 

But not you. No. Daemon knows that he has only ever inspired love in you.

Well, that and what might have been absolute surprise followed by wariness, when he was suddenly sprung into your world, injured and in a coat of full armour.

He chuckles, a low, throaty sound, before kissing you again, slower this time, savouring the feel of your lips against his. The kiss is deep, full of promises and unspoken words, and when he pulls away, he whispers, “No one can ever replace you.”

He has never been a devout man, but in that moment, he curses all the gods that you two are apart. Meeting in this middle-realm is insufficient. He feels you, somehow. But he does not feel you truly, not the goosebumps on your skin and the hitches in your breath. You are there, but you are not. 

But it will have to do. For now.

“Is this ailing you? Sustaining a connection like this, in this place?” Daemon asks, his brow furrowed in concern.

You shake your head. “Not really,” you admit, though there’s a heaviness in your limbs that you know will come crashing down later. “Dessa says I’ll feel quite exhausted afterward, but it shouldn’t take too big of a toll on me. At least, it’s not as bad as when I will actually be able to transport myself fully. I’m learning the ropes, and there’s a lot to learn. I mean… this is fucking insane.”

Daemon’s eyes flicker with something unreadable—pride, awe, something deeper. “And here you thought me extraordinary. When it was you all along.”

“Hardly.” You smile in return. “I’m not the only one, it seems. And, my great-grandmother… she was from your world.” 

He brushes a stray strand from your face.

Suddenly, the memory of that first night hits you, and maybe you had already known then. Maybe you had always known.

“The Rogue Prince and his Realmwalker. We were always meant to find each other.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you blink them away quickly, unwilling to break the fragile spell that’s bound the two of you in this moment. “Always,” you whisper, the word filled with every ounce of longing you’ve carried for him.

But then panic grips you as the fog begins to dissipate. You can feel your magic waning, the connection fraying. 

“Daemon!” you call, but his figure fades quickly.

With a sudden rush, you're pulled back into your realm, losing him once more. 

“Fuck!” Daemon curses aloud, his voice echoing through the empty tower. Treesa, ever watchful, takes a cautious step back, unsure whether to comfort or retreat. She’s seen Daemon angry before, but this—this is different.

“My prince?” she inquires softly. “I felt the shift. She made contact, didn’t she? You saw her?”

He shoots her a dark glare, emotions swirling within him. “Get out,” he growls, the anguish unmistakable in his tone as he wrestles with the loss of you.

“She will find a way,” Treesa says, her voice filled with conviction, just before walking through the doorway. 

He wonders what you’re doing now. Are you just as exhausted, lying back in your bed, trying to regain your strength after the toll of the projection? He imagines you staring at the ceiling, thinking of him, feeling the same ache in your chest that he feels now.

He curses under his breath again, fists clenching at his sides. 

This is unbearable.

December 2023 / the 12th Moon, 113 AC

The clutter of your apartment feels oppressive, and you feel as if you don’t recognise it anymore. Like it’s no longer yours, but not only because of Daemon, but because of everything you've been going through in the past month.

 Shadows cling to the corners, stretching out as the waning light filters through the window. Shards of moonstone and ashes are strewn across the floor, remnants of failed attempts, each one a testament to the desperation that fills the air. In the centre of it all, you stand, your palm decorated with pinpricks of blood.

Dessa, once a nurturing figure whom you thought you can lean on, has become an intense shadow, her eyes blazing with expectation. “Again,” she commands, her voice unwavering.

You take a deep breath and force yourself to focus. You feel the familiar warmth of your magic stir within you, a fountain of energy waiting to burst forth. “I can’t keep doing this,” you admit, your voice strained. “I’m exhausted.”

Dessa’s expression hardens, her lips pressing into a thin line. “You must,” she insists, her tone sharper now, laced with an urgency that makes your stomach churn. “Time is running out. You need to learn to harness your power. It’s the only way to reach Prince Daemon.”

A flicker of anger rises within you, as it had several times before. On one occasion, you had nearly screamed in an outburst, saying, “If it’s that important, why can’t you just transport me to Westeros yourself? You’re the one with the experience.”

The air had grown thick as Dessa’s eyes flashed with something dangerous. “If I could, don’t you think I would have done it already? It takes immense power to transport another Realmwalker, and it might harm me in the process.”

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you. Dessa has sacrificed so much,  and it’s not fair to place your own frustrations on the woman who has dedicated herself to training you. Yet, beneath the guilt lay an undercurrent of anger—a rising tide that threatens to drown you in self-doubt. 

“I’m tired of feeling weak,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dessa’s expression softens for just a moment, but it quickly hardens again. “Weakness is a luxury we cannot afford,” she replies, her voice firm. “Every moment you hesitate, you risk losing him forever.”

The words strike a chord, igniting a fire within you. You feel the heat of your magic surge, almost instinctively. It catches you both off guard, your energy force spilling out unbidden. 

The air crackles around you as your power begins to swell, something that demands to be unleashed. Your connection to Daemon calls to you, guiding you through the storm. And for a moment, you stand on the precipice of something immense.

“Channel that feeling!” Dessa encourages. “Let it guide you! You’re capable of so much more than you realise.”

With a determined breath, you extend your hands, feeling the now-familiar rush of energy coiling within you. You recall the incantation, the rhythm of the words echoing in your mind, and you begin to chant.

Dessa watches, her expression shifting from pride to mania, and you catch a flicker of something darker behind your mentor’s facade. The obsessiveness in her eyes, the way she leans in closer as if willing the magic to surge faster—it’s unsettling.

“Keep going!” Dessa urges, her voice now tinged with a hint of urgency that hints at deeper stakes. “You’re almost there!”

Your pulse races, the magic thrumming through you like a living entity. But you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. It feels like a game of cat and mouse, where you are the latter, running from unseen predators lurking in the shadows.

You feel the world around you dissolve, and in the swirling chaos, you steel yourself for what lies ahead. 

With a final surge of strength, you push yourself into the void. 

You are no longer in your apartment.

The familiar surroundings of your measly apartment have vanished, replaced by a darkness punctuated by the soft glow of stars overhead. A cool breeze brushes against your skin, carrying the earthy scent of pine and damp soil. As your heart races, a thrill courses through your veins—you’ve done it. 

You’ve Realmwalked, so to speak, and the woods you stand in are unfamiliar, but you sense that you’ve landed in Westeros. Hopefully, close to where Daemon is, if your visualisation proved effective. 

But something feels off. As you stand there, trying to catch your breath, an uneasy sensation creeps into your chest. There’s something lurking in the shadows. Something—someone—is watching you. 

With quick, purposeful steps, you begin making your way through the dense trees, senses heightened as you listen to every rustle of leaves, every whisper of wind. The path before you is faint, but you follow it, hoping it will lead you closer to Daemon. The thought of him fuels your determination, but the further you walk, the deeper the sense of unease sinks into your bones. The woods feel alive, as though the very ground beneath your feet is shifting. Something is wrong.

Then, as if answering your fear, a figure steps out from the shadows. She’s tall, with sharp, regal features and eyes that seem to pierce through the darkness.

You freeze, heart pounding in your chest. 

“You are finally here,” the stranger says, her voice smooth yet dripping with sinister intention. “We have been waiting for you.”

Panic rises in your throat. “Where… where is Prince Daemon?” The question flies out of you.

Her lips curl into a predatory smile as she steps closer. “You have come to us, just as we hoped. Dessa was right. I can… feel you… and you are more powerful than my sister made you out to be.”

“What do you want from me?” you demand, though a part of you already knows the answer. If Dessa is her sister, this can only be Treesa or Verness. Realmwalker too, from what little you’ve heard of them. 

There’s something deeply unsettling about the way she looks at you—like you’re not a person but a weapon, an object, something to be used.

“The time has come to fulfil our plans,” Treesa replies, her smile chilling as she closes the distance between you. “You were the last Realmwalker in Korzion. Your power is vital for what is to come.”

“I won’t be part of your plans. I just came here for Daemon,” you spit, taking a step back. But as you do, you feel the weight of Treesa’s magic press down on you, nigh inescapable.

“You do not have a choice,” she says, her voice soft and musical, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “You are part of something much bigger than you can comprehend. You cannot escape it.”

And then it hits you. This was a trap all along. You were led here—by Dessa, by their lies—and now they have you. All the training, the pushing, it was never about helping you find Daemon. It was about getting you here, into their hands.

Before you can react, Treesa makes her move. With a flick of her wrist, a sudden wave of magic surges toward you. Your entire being feels heavy as the force of it pulls you down. You try to fight it, adrenaline roaring through you as you attempt to run, but it’s too late. She has the upper hand.

Treesa steps closer, her voice laced with satisfaction. “You are ours now.”

Your vision blurs as Treesa’s magic takes hold, and suddenly, everything becomes fuzzy.

“No,” you mumble weakly, your body collapsing against the cold, damp earth. “I won’t let you…”

“Let me?” she laughs mockingly. 

Just as you succumb to nothingness, you mumble weakly, “Daemon will find me...”

Not far from the edge of the woods, a few smallfolk huddle near their huts, tending to their evening fires. The sky above is painted with the deep coating of the midnight hour when they notice something strange—a woman, dressed in unfamiliar garb, struggling against another in the distance. They don’t dare get too close, but they watch, wide-eyed, as the second woman drags the first into the shadows of the trees.

A few whispers are exchanged, and soon, one of the men runs off to report what he’s seen to the Gold Cloaks.

Hours later, word reaches the Red Keep. The rumour travels quickly—Gold Cloaks to the Kingsguard, the Kingsguard to the Hand, and finally, it reaches the ears of King Viserys himself.

He listens with a frown, trying to make sense of the strange report. But it isn’t until Daemon enters the room that everything clicks into place.

Daemon’s expression shifts the moment he hears the tale. The description of the woman—the unfamiliar clothes, her behaviour—it all points to one thing, one person.

You.

“She is here,” Daemon says, voice tight with certainty. “I know it.”

Viserys looks at him, startled by the sudden intensity in his brother’s voice. “Do you truly believe so?”

Daemon nods, his heart pounding. “She has to be.”

Before Viserys can respond, the heavy doors of the throne room swing open. Otto Hightower enters, purposefully striding towards the gathering at the head of the room.

“Your Grace,” Otto begins with a slight bow, his eyes flickering over Daemon. “There has been another incident. The priestess Treesa… She is nowhere to be found within the Red Keep. Her chambers have been emptied, and we also questioned the servants, to no avail. She is no longer here to be subject to questioning.”

Daemon’s jaw tightens, a fury building inside him. His voice is cold, his temper barely contained. “When did anyone last see her?”

“in this previous twilight's hours,” Otto replies. “Since then, there has been no sign of her. I have sent guards to roam the keep, but nothing.”

Daemon lets out a harsh laugh, though there’s no humour in it. “Of course she is gone. Mayhaps they have been planning this the whole time. And we let them.”

The realm feels unsteady beneath his feet, the ground trembling with the potential for chaos. Do they not know who he is? Are they not afraid of what he is capable of? Even devoid of sorcery and magic and whatever fucking trickery those priestesses have devised, he is still Daemon Targaryen.

“Prepare the men,” he orders, voice sharp and decisive. “We will search every inch of the Seven Kingdoms until we find her.”

If they think they can take what is his, they will learn that he is not called the Rogue Prince for nothing. 

And he will find you.

*flashback* February 2023 / the 2nd Moon, 113 AC

One chilly evening, you decided to introduce Daemon to the concept of proper movie night. You had gathered a few classics, a mountain of blankets, and an assortment of snacks that would put any royal feast to shame.

“I still cannot believe that this is how you spend your evenings, ” Daemon mutters sardonically as he examined the spread.

“You know it. It’s all about relaxation and enjoyment,” you replied, tossing him a handful of popcorn.

You settled onto the couch, and as the opening credits rolled, Daemon found himself surprisingly captivated, laughing at moments that you found endearing.

“What sorcery is this?” he exclaimed after a particularly action-packed scene. “How can a mere flickering light command such power?”

“It’s all about storytelling,” you explained, leaning closer. “It takes you away from your world, even if just for a moment.”

He turned to you, his expression softening. “And what story do you wish to escape to, my love?”

As you paused to consider his question, you felt a warmth spreading within you. The film played on, but your mind raced to find the right answer. For the first time in your life, you realised that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want to escape to anywhere anymore. 

You glanced at Daemon, his eyes reflecting the light from the screen, a small smile dancing on his lips. In this shared space, enveloped by blankets and laughter, you understood that he had become a part of your story. Whether it be in distant lands or magical realms, or simply in the confines of your apartment, if he was with you, then it would be an adventure.

It would be a tale worth telling. 

“I think,” you said softly, as you faced the screen with a faraway look in your eyes, “I’ve found a place where I want to stay.”

Daemon’s brow furrowed slightly, and he studied you with a look that suggested he understood more than you had said.

“As do I,” he replied. 

series taglist: @omgsuperstarg @moonmaiden1996 @iilsenewman @padfootsvixen @teapartydreams @sleephereicome @dixie-elocin @simplymurdock @cecespizza01 @imissyoudarling @rentsturner @itevilhag @kindaslightlyacidic @naelys-the-aster @zoleea-exultant @moongirl27 @schniiipsel @dreaming-for-an-escape @llovinjoonie @outocean @caspianobsessed @grimistangel @ladespedidas @nanabarnes @luckythirtxn97 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @stella-cadante @milber32 @canvashearts @nitimurinvetitumsposts @kryzeira @captainweirdo42 @eternallyvenus @fuzzybunny83 @cookielovesbook-akie @queenofshinigamis @avadakadabra93 @rebeccawinters @partypoison00 @misspendragonsworld @praline357 @mysingularitybts @milber32 @rikishima19 @ivvypg @novellaquill @fan-goddess @ayamenimthiriel @uniquecroissant

Some notes in the margins...

This chapter was a bit dry, I must admit. But consider it as a setup for the fiasco that is the finale, which will be 18+. Just a heads up.

Any guesses on what will happen? As always I am keen to hear your thoughts 🖤

[manmuncher777]

Hi, honey! I saw your requests are open…sooooo can I get an extremely intimate nsfw with mean dom!Daemon x wife poc!(or ambiguous appearance if that's easier for you) fem reader in which he has a fixation on reader's breasts. With lots of nipple play, Breast Worship,cockwarming, marking, praise and degradation, love bites(on her breasts); hair pulling, some breastfeeding kink along with some breeding kink, overstimulation, orgasm delay and denial and whatever else you want, please?

Soo sorry this took me so long my love, I don’t really write for Hotd anymore but heres a little Drabble I hope you enjoy ❤️

“D-Daemon!”

“Hush now little one.” The silver haired man murdered from underneath you, a lewd popping sound echoed in the room as he removed your breast from his mouth. The sable skin glinting in the candle light from his saliva

“Don’t make a fuss, or there will be consequences” the statement may be stern, but that mischievous glint in his eyes, and taunt in his tone almost dares you to misbehave.

However you didnt want to risk yourself just yet, doing your best to hold in your noises as his mouth latched onto you once more. What made it ask the more difficult was the fact he had you sat so sweetly on his lap, with his cock buried deep inside your cunt.

Everything in you screamed at you to move, to shift your hips ever so slightly. You were so needy it was hard to fight against your urges. But you knew there would be hell to pay if you did.

Daemons tongue swirled around your nipple, sucking gently on the sensitive skin. His large hands groping at the other in order to not leave it neglected. Your body writhed with pleasure, the tingling amplified by how much he had already edged you this evening. The wetness between your legs was almost sinful, glistening over the dark skin.

The man beneath you was hell bent on bringing you to your breaking point. Gentle groans leaving his chest as he bit the skin of your breast gently, before sucking on it, and pulling away to admire his handy work. Only to return to the flesh in a different spot, repeating himself over and over until you were sure there wasnt a spot left on you he hadn’t claimed.

His teeth grazed over your nipple in a particularly cruel way. A way that had you jolting forward into him, moving your hips.

A pathetic whine leaving your at the feeling of his length shifting inside of you, only to be cut short as you realised what a mistake you made

“Oh my love, I did warn you”

[lauraneedstochill]

I debated whether I should keep my opinion on EP3 in the comments to @st-eve-barnes post (she made some good arguments btw!) but I guess I’m out of fucks to give. just like the HOTD scriptwriters ✌

big fat disclaimer: I sincerely can’t say a single bad thing about Ewan. his acting was absolutely amazing, he owned the scene, and it’s pretty clear he doesn’t have a problem with nudity (if you watched “High Life”, you know what I’m talking about; if you didn’t, please read the warnings before watching).

my problem is with everything leading up to the brothel scene with Aegon — because this is NOT how you write conflict, and because it could’ve hit way harder if only it was done PROPERLY. unsurprisingly, it started in EP2:

➡ the fact that we got absolutely no reaction to B&C from Aemond is a joke. I’ve read some people saying “well, Jaehaerys isn’t his son so why would he care” — sure, Aemond wasn’t competing to win the uncle of the year award. BUT you are telling me he wouldn’t simply be pissed about the fact that a couple of nobodies managed to sneak into the supposedly well-guarded castle and kill a Targaryen like it’s no big deal? that they dared to put a knife to Helaena’s neck, that they clearly could’ve done worse things to her? that they left a mess in his room, touched his stuff? you mean Aemond, who is definitely an annoying perfectionist who puts every thing in its specific place, Aemond who’s extremely arrogant about being the best warrior, the biggest defender, the mister-know-it-all, Aemond who clearly has anger issues — HE wouldn’t be fuming on the inside? HE wouldn’t rush to the small council meeting to know all the details? HE wouldn’t volunteer to help Aegon murder the ones responsible? it’s a pity everyone’s forgotten S1 Aemond but I have NOT.

➡ I won’t talk much about the brothel scene in EP2 (@pygmyharmoset analyzed it really well) but I will say that to me it felt very disconnected from the main plotline. yet again, there is NO ! BUILD UP ! was it so hard to at least show Aemond leaving? to let us know what mood he was in (was he agitated? fidgeting? when exactly he decided to leave? did something trigger it?). they could’ve cut out the moment of his arrival so we wouldn’t know where he was going to have the big shocking reveal later when he’s suddenly with Sylvi, all naked and vulnerable. it would’ve only taken an additional MINUTE of screentime!

➡ now, to the worst of it — and I really want you to think over what I’m about to say:

people are allowed to grieve in their own way. not everyone is lucky to have all the right tools to process trauma.

did Aegon treat Aemond poorly? was he mean and cruel to his younger brother? yes. yes, he was (newsflash: there are no good people in this show. hope this helps).

BUT

was Aegon’s child killed because of a mistake Aemond made? is it possible that Aegon’s been harboring his resentment, that the absence of Aemond in that tragic, pivotal moment in their lives hurt him? the answer is also YES. Aegon doesn’t know how and has never seen how to cope with emotions in a healthy way, and it’s not in his power to break the cycle so he keeps repeating all the same mistakes. that’s the tragedy of it and that’s the ticking bomb planted under the foundation of their relationship.

the tragedy of that dumbass writing we’ve been presented with is that we did not see their conflict take root. we DID NOT get to see how their discontent kept growing, how they both felt caged and dissatisfied with their circumstances (Aegon realizes no one wants him on the throne and he feels helpless, Aemond is constantly being denied the chance to prove himself so he also feels helpless) — and how eventually that anger they couldn’t channel into anything else made them lash out at each other.

my first thought after watching EP3 was that there’s gotta be a scene missing between the small council meeting and the brothel scene. there SHOULD’VE been a scene with just Aegon and Aemond, they had all the reasons and opportunities for it! here, think about this:

Aemond’s comment at the end of the meeting comes off as patronizing (“It’s a brave thought” — Aemond is forbidden to leave with Vhagar so he’s glad that Aegon has to sit back, too). Aegon insists that he’s just “as fearsome”; but the thing is, he isn’t sure of it, so of course Aemond’s words stay with him, nibble at him, and it would only take a cup or two for him to get heated about it. he calls Aemond to his chambers and brings back the topic — “You don’t deem me brave, brother? You do not think I’d fight just as hard?”. it’s only the two of them, Aegon is in full armor, standing on his little wooden stool, a cup in his hands. and because he is hurting, he wants to hurt Aemond in return. so he gets off the stool and comes closer to him, sneering, “You are, no doubt, a fierce warrior,” — but then the smile falls off his face, and his voice gets quiet, pained, searing, “So tell me, where were you when my son was being murdered? I came to learn that they were looking for you, were they not? Oh, you would’ve fought them off with ease, for sure. So where were you, huh?”

and then you get the tension breaking, the emotions erupting — and, most importantly, the CONFLICT. Aegon throws the cup away, darts to Aemond, grabs him by his clothes (remember how desperately he held his face in EP9 of S1? the parallel would’ve been so beautiful !), finally screaming “Have you any idea what you’ve done? WHAT IT COST US?” — and now he isn’t talking about B&C but about Luke too. only, we’ve seen the extent of Aemond’s guilt and he isn’t about to show it now, taken aback by Aegon’s outburst, so instead of taking the blame, Aemond does what he knows best — he attacks him in return. they throw accusations at each other: Aemond reminds Aegon he was getting drunk, he himself didn’t do anything to be there for his family, he didn’t even do anything to deserve being on the throne. it’s nasty, it’s a shouting match, Aegon’s buddies eventually have to come in to pull them away from each other.

and it’s no surprise that Aegon goes back to drinking after that. and Aemond, overwhelmed and in disarray, goes back to the only place that can grant him comfort. so when Aegon finds him there and dares to humiliate him publicly and rob him of that illusion of comfort — that’s when something switches in Aemond. that’s when he decides he’s not a loyal dog anymore.

and that is, in my humble and very subjective opinion, how you properly bring someone’s temper to a boiling point. if only Ryan Condal ever cared, HA.

[falllpoutboy]

i know i dog on hotd a lot but the greens are just so much more interesting than the blacks LMAOO they have a megalomaniac grandpa who is doing whatever he can to live up to his elder brother’s whims, a mother who has repressed homosexual tendencies and is still perpetually the little 15 year old girl who lost her best friend and herself for good, the eldest son who was insidiously conceived and has grown up without neither of his parents love or attention and therefore is a attention starved deadbeat repeating their mistakes, the daughter who everyone ignores and cursed with sight of the future pawned off to her brother when they probably only talk once a year, the second son who wants more than his position and has been wronged and has a kicked dog complex. they’re all insane and they all hate each other and love each other anyways.

[houseofjaqen]

hello ! first I´m not considering house of dragon as an adaptation of the book fire and blood , I think it´s just a fantasy show . and I don´t know if you are watching it. My question is: why people and the showrunners are pretty sure that daenerys is the princess who was promised !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??????????? I watched daemon vision in the final episode and I was like wtffff , daemon litterally saw bloodraven , white walkers and daenerys holding her baby dragons and people in the comments declaring that she is the princess she is the song of ice and fire wtfffffffffffffffff,

after what they did in the final episode , I´m pretty sure now that jaqen is really a targaryen the way daemon touched the weirwood reminds me of how jaqen touched it : it´s a confirmation that jaqen=aegon=the song of ice and fire=he is related to the tree

I repeat again I´m not considering the show as an adaptation , but after I watched it , they have connected everything to jaqen and dany and arya . why people won´t read the books and see the truth .

I´m sorry I have many things to say but really I believe now that jaqen is the most important character in the books and in the show .

bonus: rhaegar has already confirmed that his first son has the song of ice and fire , hotd did the opposite : dany has the song wtf so there´s no 3 heads of dragon wtf .....

this picture is from the comic book , they made jaqen look like a weirwood tree even the book confirmed it and arya said maybe the old gods have sent hin as an answer . are the people blind ???? they can´t see his importance -

I´m so sorry about this long ask but I have many things to say..

Oh my, I've just discovered my inbox thanks to you! Thank you, dear!

HOTD writers follow Game of Thrones because this is the official version made by HBO. George R. R. Martin gave them a free hand to adapt the books like they wanted. Lots of fans hate it and I hate it too but what can we do? GRRM can do whatever he wants. He chose them.

I hate how they ruin the story in the new show. I hate how they ruin the characters. They didn't learn anything from Game of Thrones mistakes. You are correct that this is not adaptation. This is assassination of the source material. It saddens me because they don't have to do this. They have Fire and Blood. They don't have to guess the ending.

Thanks for the Jaqen. We will get lots of that coolness when GRRM gives us the books. The three heads of the dragon and Prince Aegon in place of Jon parading as Aegon. You know what I mean. All these scenes in Harrenhal make me think about Jaqen and Arya. Alys could have seen them in her visions. It sucks that they won't show it in HOTD because they cut the story from Game of Thrones.

Let's keep fingers crossed for the books!

[darkpoisonouslove]

HotD S02E06

This show is exhausting, the fandom - even more so. I didn't even want to write this but I hate not finishing stuff I've already started and abandoning my "reviews" halfway through the season just didn't sit right with me. Also, I guess I do want to bitch even if I would be infinitely happier if I didn't have to. There is good news, though, and that's the fact that I did like this episode more than the last one! These thoughts might not be in order because I cannot be bothered to open the episode again and look through it:

Daemon is so funny for real. He has NOT caught on to the fact that Alys is playing him. I think this might be more misogyny from him, though. Look at it - he is blaming Simon, who is allegedly in charge of all of Harrenhal and he is absolutely not clocking Alys despite the fact that she literally gave him a potion to drink. He cannot perceive that there might be some kind of other power different from being a lord/king.

I do not know why Alys is helping him tbh. I guess she sees how pathetic his state and that of the entire team Black is and she figures that if she doesn't help, the war will be over soon. So if her motive is prolonging the war to ensure both sides take as many hits as possible, then she probably wants to end the Targaryens/dragons. It's really funny how they are making team Black the underdogs, however. What, with Daemon alienating all of the Riverlands houses and the loss of Rhaenys and their largest dragon, they are presented at a severe disadvantage. In the book, though, team Black has more dragons and more houses that support them... and they still fucking lose. Guess we know why the writers are "adapting" the situation to make them look like they will come out on top from a worse initial position but it's really funny because who fucking fumbled the Riverlands, guys? It was Daemon! He had one job and the only reason he might come back from his mistake is because Alys probably wants to see all Targaryens dead. What a funny way to present your "heroes".

Love how they also made Alys say that Rhaenyra should get the crown because she's never wanted it. I guess that conversation in 1x02 where Rhaenys warned her it would all lead to war because the men of the realm won't accept her as queen and Rhaenyra's response boiled down to "Fuck them! I will have my crown!" was just some kind of dream we mass hallucinated then. Istg this writing is a fucking joke. I don't think the writers are aware that adapting something doesn't mean "do the exact opposite of the main theme of the source material", which they are doing by insisting Rhaenyra has some kind of divine right to the throne. Read. The. Fucking. Book!

The way they're "adapting" Aemond is killing me so I don't even want to talk about it. I just have to say that the Aemond from 1x09 would never do what he's doing right now. I could be repeating myself but the fact that he regretted accidentally killing the boy that slashed out his eye and mutilated him but burned his own brother in cold blood (and was essentially torturing him in this episode) over one minute of Aegon reverting to bullying him like he did during their childhood is nonsensical af. Not to mention that he already had the chance to be king. Aegon literally begged him to let him run away so that he could be free and Aemond would be king and he didn't do it because he respected his mother's wishes. I do not buy that he would change that much over the course of 2 months.

Having Aemond insult the one other disabled character and call him a toad (and torture the other disabler character besides himself aka his brother) was not great. Trying to marry Alicent off after everything that's happened to her? I think the fuck not (at least he didn't insist on that)!

I was thinking that it would be much more suspenseful if Rhaenyra's first attempt at finding more dragon riders was unsuccessful because imagine how much harder it would be to continue with more attempts - both because of her conscience and because all the other candidates would probably not want to risk their lives on what appears to be a doomed cause. In fact, I was so wrapped up in that scene, I didn't even realize that since it was Seasmoke that they were trying to match with a rider, it obviously wouldn't be successful since Addam was to be Seasmoke's new rider. Then they did the horrible death in dragon fire and I thought we were on the same page only for them to take the easy way out and make Seasmoke hunt down the one person that he would accept as a rider. What a cop-out! Make Rhaenyra make the hard choices! Without dragon riders more people on her side would die! She should have pushed through with the plan until she found a rider! Not this convenient way to absolve her of responsibility for risking more people's lives!

Please, tell me there will be more development with Rhaena and the wild dragon. Why would you tell us there's a wild dragon if nothing will be done about it? Frankly, I am more invested in the potential of this situation than half the other subplots on the show.

I have to say I am... concerned as to what's going on with Otto. First, Aemond wants to get him back as Hand, which is a red flag already. With Otto there the chaos and blunders would be minimized, which is definitely not what they would be aiming for at this point. Then Alicent says that Otto hasn't answered her letters. I'm really starting to think that he's dead. Either that or he's in the middle of some shenanigans. I hope it's the latter.

"Oh, was it the Red Keep or was it their mother?" Yeah, that's right! Their mother. Their single. Fucking. Parent! Since Viserys couldn't be fucking bothered with any of his children from Alicent. Do keep telling us how she is at fault for how they turned out and not the constant neglect and obvious preference for their sister that they suffered from their father. I'm sure that sitting there with your eye slashed out while your father refuses to do anything for you and your sister demands that you be tortured further wouldn't have been life-altering for Aemond if it weren't for Alicent's failure as a mother. I get that Alicent would feel responsible with the way that things are going but I do not trust this show (and especially not the fans) to not frame it like it's the truth. Just fucking give us Daeron already (probably won't happen this season). At least her scene by Aegon's bedside was good!

Speaking of Aegon, I do want to see how things will develop with him from now on! He managed to save himself from Aemond for now but Larys' monologue is really getting my hopes up (silly me) that we will see an evolution of Aegon where he will truly start using his mind now and grow smarter and more cunning. I shouldn't hope but that would be amazing!

I find it curious that Daemon has managed to make some emotional progress by being there for Viserys (in the visions) when Viserys is dead in reality. Rhaenyra is the one who's still alive and needs him but he's loudly proclaimed his intentions to take the throne for himself and betray her and there hasn't been any indication that he's changed his mind about that. So basically, he's only able to "be there" for Viserys because Viserys isn't an obstacle to him anymore, doesn't hold any power that could allow him to take away what Daemon most desires while Rhaenyra is still very much a symbol of Daemon "being robbed of what he deserves". It don't count if it won't hurt, Daemon! Maybe try making nice with the relative that's still alive!

I have seen people say that it's stupid for the small folk to say Rhaenyra cares about them when she's the one implementing the sea blockade and that's true to an extent but I think the bigger reason for the riot was that they were convinced there was food but the Greens were hoarding it. I can kind of understand that but imagine that you're starving so much that you're grateful to the person that implemented a food blockade in the first place for sending you food and then... you start throwing the food you were so desperate for at the royals instead of... idk fucking eating it. Even if Rhaenyra sent an excess, you'd still fucking need to eat tomorrow. Also, isn't it funny how the book describes Alicent and Helaena both as beloved by the small folk while the show makes them the target of the riot? I am sure that was a completely innocent, unbiased change on the writers' part.

I understand Rhaenyra's frustration with everyone talking like Daemon will come to save her. As if he can get anything done. I do think that maybe Jace didn't mean it in that way but was trying to reinforce the idea that she should stay protected and let others fight instead of her because without her everything is lost. Finally, a complex situation that makes their relationship more interesting! Can't wait to see what might happen if the thing with Mysaria continues, though I do have my doubts about that. Rhaenyra has really been feeling the effects of losing Rhaenys' support and Mysaria is the only one that's shown faith in her. It could be treated like a weak moment for Rhaenyra where she was seeking reassurance. I'm hearing that a lot of people thought that scene was blasphemy and I'm glad that at least we, here on tumblr, are fucking normal about it aka we're celebrating it. Frankly, both Rhaenyra and Mysaria deserve better than Daemon so I hope they keep making out and more.

[reidmym1nd]

spoilers for hotd s2 ep 3

"im as fearsome as any of them" BOY WHO LIED TO YOU?? EVEN HIS COUNCIL KNOWS HIS LAYING EVEN HIS OWN MOTHER LMAOAOAO

jace serving face card once again

the kingsguard knows what's up you can't tell me they dont

not daemon acting like he's the king

something seeing green in kings landing is making me sick

nyra sending her youngest children away made me sob WHEN JOFF SAID "MOMMY" I STARYED TEARING UP

TWO THINGS I WANNA TALK ABOUT IN THAT BROTHEL SCENE (again)

WHERE WAS THE JUMPSCARE WARNING FOR THE HEAD PART???

aegon is really make me dislike him, we just saw history repeat itself but this time with his young squire and then him catching aemond in bed with his @buser

I WAS NOT EXPECTING AEMOND TO TURN AROUND NAKED BRO

OMG MILLY'S BACK I HAD A FEELING SHE WAS GOING TO BE BACK

yk that alicent and rhaenyra was kinda wholesome BUT UGH SHE KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE BUT YOU STILL WANT WAR??

im not prepared for the next ep, its gonna be the battle of rook's rest🧍🏻‍♀️

cole and alicent having marital disputes (in fromr of the council too, idk how these ppl dont know what happens behind close doors) and then having alicent and rhaenyra together at the end was just the icing on top 😭😭

just realizing daemon might never see his sons again (i havent read the book so idk the whole timeline for dance of the dragons)

[backjustforberena]

I hate that they did the "Vhaegar sneak attack" twice. 1) To the viewer it feels like doing the same mistake twice 2) Rhaenys and Meleys are smarter and more experienced like that to be caught so off-guard. I don't mind she turned back around again but I think they should have met face on. Also if they don't show any grief from Corlys, Baela and Rhaena and just move on with the plot I'll be mad and sad

I get the gut instinct to go there. Really I do. But I'm more than at peace with it. I think there are a few big points that separates it out from what happened with Luke and I don't think that the way it ends has any bearing on Rhaenys's status as an extremely good dragonrider.

The only reason that Vhagar had to do that tactic or resort to it is because Meleys put her on the ground. It was Rhaenys's skill and her dragon's strengths that seriously knocked Vhagar. Meleys drew blood. Meleys slammed Vhagar down but flew away herself. Vhagar was only able to do that because Meleys and Rhaenys put up one hell of a fight. In other words, this wasn't a brilliant master-stroke or Vhagar deciding how was the time to get in gear, it was luck. Sheer luck. Not skill. Not size. Not any advantage. Luck. She was on the ground because she was put there.

Vhagar and Arrax was predator and pray. Vhagar and Meleys were two beings at the top of the food chain. Head to head. They fight significantly, to the point where Rhaenys probably things she's felled Vhagar, if not permanently, then as good as can be.

Meleys dying does not undercut that. And as for Rhaenys not being caught off guard; at the end of the day, she couldn't see Aemond and Vhagar. Rook's Rest is on the edge of a cliff, if Vhagar goes round the side and drops closer to the ocean then there is no anticipating that. She can't see that dragon. But she was looking. She looks down to the battlefield, she looks up and around. Smoke in her eyes, exhausted, shaken and bruised but alert.

I don't blame Rhaenys for not seeing. And it had to end one way or another. You say you wish they met face on? They did. They locked claws, they rained fire. Meleys clawed at Vhagar and drove her into the ground. But I'm aware I'm repeating myself so I'll move on.

I think we'll see grief. We know two things about Corlys. One, is that he has a very emotional scene, seemingly on his own, in the Hall of Nine. It's been speculated this is when he learns of Rhaenys's death. Two, he has a line: "What I do now, I do for her." - Rhaenys's memory won't be forgotten. It won't be glossed over.

We have a scream from Baela, on Moondancer, that we've yet to see. It's been floated this is her reaction, if she recovers the body. I don't know if that's true though. We shall see. Rhaena... I don't know. I don't know how her storyline will play out or how or when she'll find out about Rhaenys or if we'll see that moment.

The fact is HOTD has a tendency to place plot first. We can't really get away from that and, with being now halfway through, that's only going to keep gaining pace. The trailer for next week didn't show anything of Corlys or Baela (the two arguably closest to Rhaenys). But the Greens have aftermath scenes, of the procession and of returning Aegon to King's Landing. We can assume something similar, on a similar timeline, for the Blacks.

Also, it's directed by Clare Kilner, who really enjoyed the Corlys and Rhaenys relationship. If there is a nugget of grief to be found anywhere, I trust her to find it. I also trust Steve Toussaint. He's brilliant.

[bloody-wonder]

currently...

thank you @magpiefngrl for tagging me💜

last song: last weekend i went to budapest for the first time and so on the train i relistened to the hungarian cast album of rudolf affaire mayerling to set the mood

last book: finished the henchmen of zenda on that same train. i really liked it but i think it could've been better if kjc invested more time into establishing rupert of hentzau's rizz instead of just repeating his descriptions from (i assume) the og book over and over again. now i have only one kjc book left🥲

currently reading: the fall of the kings - the last book in ellen kushner's riverside trilogy - and it's great. my reread of swordspoint made me appreciate it a lot more, so i was concerned that the next books could turn out not as good, since they take place after huge time skips and focus on new characters. but the joke's on me bc it turns out they are still the queerest, the sexiest and the most mannerpunk stories i've read,, probably since lymond. i was immediately shipping the new couple introduced in the last book. they just don't make them like this anymore :( and by "they" i mean most mm historical romance authors😒

last movie: in october i attended the vienna film festival and the last movie i saw i went into knowing almost nothing about it. it was realm of satan and it turned out to be a documentary about the church of satan in which there is almost no dialogue. it conveys information entirely through the visuals, showing us scenes from the daily life of real satanists. it was an interesting experience but my attention span can't handle a movie where nobody speaks anymore so i started zoning out towards the end. the q&a with the director and the cameraman afterwards was interesting too, altho they ended up answering a lot of burning questions (such as: where is all the freaky sex lol) which ironically they had been trying to avoid by making an atypical documentary where no one answers questions.

last tv show: finished the umbrella academy a while ago. i didn't particularly like it to begin with but i must admit the cast grew on me somewhat over the last couple of seasons.

currently watching: i want to finally finish the last season of vikings which isn't going great bc all the running shows with their new seasons like hotd, rings of power, the dragon prince, arcane and ofc wwdits are distracting me. besides most of the time these days i'm not in the mood for narrative tv so i end up watching nature documentaries or youtube/nebula😬

current obsession: i did a big impulsive purchase today without asking for anyone's opinion or permission and i still feel pretty weird about it. ig i haven't yet settled into the idea that i'm an adult earning my own money and can spend it however i want and if the impulsive factor will come back to bite me in the ass well then i'll face the consequences and learn from my mistakes. or whatever adults are supposed to do. etc.

tagging @figuringthengsout @fugitoidkry @oliviermiraarmstrongs @fandomreferencepending @doh-rae-me

(i changed some of the questions back to the more typical form of this tag but if you want to do this specific one here it is)

[dragondream-ing]

Because GOT made a big deal of Dany & Jon’s relation, this fandom will clutch pearls over a magical family that practices consensual incest (based on a culture that practiced it for 1000s of years, and all of Westeros practices some degree of incest that’s abhorrent to us in the real world) before they’ll condemn a 20+ year old taking a 12 year old as his “paramour.” FYI, you losers, even in Westeros 12 is considered too young by the VAST MAJORITY of people. Remember when Ned got queasy over Robert impregnating a girl during the rebellion because he didn’t want to think about her age?? Yeah, normal Westerosi do not condone it.

This bs makes me SICK. Learn how to read. Develop some shame. Find some morals. “It’s a medieval setting” isn’t an excuse when the characters themselves, by and large, believe it’s wrong. You only lie and say it’s “normal” for Westeros because you want cover to spread vile beliefs, because the characters you like are the ANTAGONISTS doing ANTAGONIST SHIT like BEING SEX PESTS and ABUSING TWELVE YEAR OLDS. And don’t come at me with “Daemon deflowered maidens.” I KNOW. And if he deflowered a TWELVE YEAR OLD, the pro-green sources would’ve written it in the f-ing SKY because they know people would side-eye him for it. I swear to…

🤦🏻‍♀️

And just so you know, Jon is absolutely going to consensually hook up with his hot aunt, who happens to be the same age as him and not an older predatory loser like Aegon II. And they’re both going to enjoy it immensely. You can cry about it 🤷🏻‍♀️

[bohemian-nights]

Did you read Collider article about the rumor of Nettles being cut? They said it's bad idea for the plot and the exploration of the whole ASOIAF world, but they also said that if they're doing that is to give more development to Rhaena combining her storyline with hers, but mainly cause of Daemyra since the couple became popular, they don't want risk to ruin it with Daemon being unloyal to her cause Show want them to be each others true love. So, if they're going to take this route, i assume Nyra will eventually forgive Daemon for choking her out and Daemon's redemption is actually gonna be about him being blindly loyal to Nyra, to prove Otto wrong about him, when he says he wants the throne ecc when Viserys was alive. They also said though that nothing is confirmed and that there's still possibility of Nettles showing up in S3 but they're convinced that her absence in S2 is a loss for the Show. Honestly Collider might be right, however this whole centred on Daemyra doesn't correspond to what Ryan Condal said who claimed that the story is centred on Rhaenyra and Alicent, but ofc we don't need to believe nor trust blindly Showrunner since he has always been the first on being inconsistent, besides Emma.

I looked the article up.

They aren’t lying. Despite what her missing several screws stanbase says, cutting Nettles would be a big mistake, but as much as I hate thinking that way I could legitimately see them cutting her to appease Missy Anne’s stans.

It’s not as if it hasn’t been done before.

Black girl gets cast in a role. She looks like she’s going to get with the man guy or she’s supposed to be his love interest(he could be white, but honestly her being with any race of man that the fandoms likes pisses people off).

Racist fans b*tch about it. The showrunners have no guts and are racist themselves so they give into said racist stans demands and either cut the girl out, kill her off, reduce her role, or replace her. Rinse recycle and repeat.

This has happened with The Flash, Sleepy Hollow, Twisted, Person of Interest, and it is happening currently with The Bear fandom(although I think Sydcarmy is going to be endgame despite those fans trying it). It’s misogynoir.

HOTD prides itself on diversity, but it’s very surface level. They put a few brown faces in a few roles that they know where they won’t be around for that long, where they won’t rock the boat too much, or they give them hardly any screen-time, and just have them standing there being subservient to white people(GOT did this too just on a smaller scale).

If Nettles is cut it’s not because she’s irrelevant, unnecessary, or whatever else those people want to say. It’s because of systemic racism that perpetuates all aspects of our society including in fictional settings in order to keep the status quo that white women are the most desirable and valued women.

I really don’t care what they do at this point. I’m tapped out of this fandom.

[talestold-a]

( targaryen b / tom glynn carney / cis man and he/him ) hear ye hear ye — king matthos baratheon welcomes prince aerys targaryen of exile ! his great majesty is glad that the twenty eight year old appears to be adaptable while overlooking that it’s said they are also vindictive, as long as they are glad to celebrate peace in the seven kingdoms. fortunately for them, matthos remains oblivious that they aren’t happy with his reign and that their true allegiance lies with house targaryen.

i. background.

full name: aerys targaryen.

commonly goes by: aer, lord drako.

official title: prince of westeros, lord drako of lys.

age: twenty eight.

gender + pronouns: cis man + he/him.

orientation: bisexual.

allegiance: house targaryen / himself.

spoken languages: common tongue, high valyrian & low valyrian.

religion: the faith of the seven.

ii. appearance.

faceclaim: tom glynn carney.

eye color: a dark purple, almost indigo.

hair color: a natural golden silver, presently staining with berries to achieve a dark, muddy brown color.

dominant hand: left.

height: 5'10"

build: athletic.

iii. personality.

virtues: adaptable, educated, humorous, resourceful, opportunistic.

vices: vindictive, gloomy, scheming, aloof, selfish.

weapon of choice: a nice blade or heavy object, not too picky.

moral alignment: neutral evil.

inspired by: viserys targaryen ( got ), aegon targaryen ( hotd ), & anakin skywalker / luke skywalker ( star wars ).

common tropes: currently embodying ambition is evil, tragic elements of riches to rags, teetering the line of not being like father, like son and surprisingly, even evil has loved ones.

iv. relationships.

parents: king jaehaerys iii targaryen and queen casella targaryen nee bar emmon ( both deceased ).

siblings: visera targaryen & rhaella targaryen.

relationship status: currently involved with elora mooton.

children: none.

pets: a golden eyed, shimmering silver scaled with golden accents dragon - he's named balerion and is currently the size of a small house cat.

other relations: house bar emmon ( cousins ), more to come !

previous relations: none, let's plot to change that !

v. biography.

only two years old when the targaryens were shipped off to essos, aerys remembers nothing of westeros. when they first departed he could remember slight details - silver hair, those purple eyes - but in present time, all he has is what he's been told by others. he became obsessed with it in his youth for a time, wanting to learn every bit of information about the entirety of house targaryen before their demise. the history of ancient valyria became a fascination and though information never came easily, he didn't let them stop him for seeking out whatever possible. not only did he feel like he needed to know about his family, but he promised himself and his siblings they would not repeat the same mistakes that got them sent away in the first place. when they would return, he would be ready.

this is not the life they were supposed to have. the siblings should have known the red keep like the back of their hands as they grew up, surrounded by family alike in a home that kept them safe. instead, aerys looks at their time in essos as a necessary evil, something he despised but did not count out the opportunity it gave them to rebuild whatever was left. though never without an attitude, he found comfort in being able to trust his siblings and bond with them. if not for them, he knows he would have never made it out of essos and back to the home they should never have had to leave.

all he can think about now is how to make matthos baratheon and every single person who had a hand in the targaryen demise pay. he has found an obsession with history and aims to learn as much as he can with their time in riverrun, aiming to become the version of himself that can help his siblings take down any house that dares to threaten their survival. when their eggs hatched, something he believed never to happen, it lit a spark within aerys - a hope that they can return to their former glory. he doesn't care much for the glory, though, he just wants his revenge.

vi. wanted plots.

alliances - though not someone to work well with others beside his siblings, and he would absolutely turn on them in a heartbeat if it meant progress for house targaryen, aerys knows how important supporters are in their effort to gain back the throne. aerys is typically a good judge of character - or rather, is good at spotting those who seem like strong supporters versus weak cowards. perhaps he's just really judgy and has to see something beneficial.

betrothal - aerys has the intention of doing his part to help restore the targaryen name in westeros and one way to do that is by having little dragons !! he doesn't want to marry but wouldn't allow his offspring to be bastards, so he eventually will and would ultimately be picky so they would probably start off in a good place ! their relationship could go a million different ways but ( tw: cheating ) i can't promise he'll be loyal !

would eventually like to have aerys blackmail someone, have someone he's manipulating who doesn't realize, flings, someone he's learning more history from, i'm down for p much anything !

[abbatoirablaze]

The Mistake, Aegon Targaryen

Word Count:  2.9k

Warnings:  Don’t normally do warnings on these one shots because they aren’t extremely out of line or dark, but this is as dark as Joffrey forcing Sansa to look at Ned Stark’s head on a spike.  Dark themes.  Incestuous storylines (it’s HOTD, what do you expect), graphic depiction of rape.  Violence. 

Tears sprung to your eyes as your elder sister looked at you, stripped down to your plain white night dress, about to be bound in the stocks, “Aegon, please!”

“DO NOT BEG FOR MERCY FOR HER!” Aegon spat as he glared daggers at your petite form.  You shivered in front of the people standing before the stocks, “THIS WOMAN I HAVE BROUGHT TO YOU ALL IS A TRAITOR TO THE CROWN!  SHE WAS MEANT TO WORSHIP YOUR GRACE AND BEAR HIS SEED, BUT CHOSE TO LOOK IN THE DIRECTION OF ANOTHER! SHE DESERVES A PAINFUL END, BUT I AM HERE SHOWING YOU ALL WHAT HAPPENS TO THOSE UNLOYAL TO THE CROWN!”

You whimpered, wanting to shrink away from the cold, bitter wind that nipped at every part of your body.  But the guards who held each of your arms held you firm.

“You were meant to remain pure!” he growled, turning towards you, "you were meant to be mine!"  

Your stomach turned as you caught the twitch in his jaw. 

The look of disgust in his eyes.

You had loved in him in every sense of the word, despite his insecurities. And you had remained pure for him, just as he'd demanded.

“Please…do-don’t touch me,” you whimpered softly as the man stroked your cheek.  You shrank away from him, but he was firm in catching your jaw between his thumb and forefinger.  You grimaced as his nails pressed hard into your jaw, forcing your lips open ever so slightly, “p-please…grandfather…”

“Hush, child,” Hightower proclaimed, shushing you.  His other hand went to your dressing gown and he drew you towards his body.  You tried to look away, embarrassed at how you felt his cock hard against your stomach, “do you want someone to hear us?”

“I-I’m promised to my love....my grace,” you whispered, trying to pull away.  His grip tightened on you, and you cringed, “please…I-I’m promised to Aegon.  Mother agreed to let Helaena leave Aegon for Aemond so long as he gets me in turn…I-I’m to raise the twins as they are my own while Aegon puts his seed into me…”

He scoffed, “That bastard of a king has no control over what I want…and if I want you, princess…well then, I shall have you.”

You went to scream, and he backhanded you. 

Your body thudded to the floor. 

“You have one chance now, princess,” he growled, shooting daggers at you, “crawl to me on your hands and knees, and beg for my cock, and maybe I will forgive you. If you do not...it will not be a pretty end for you.”

“I am promised to my king!” you repeated out of duty, “I will not betray the word I gave to my sister in taking over her marriage.  I-“

“GUARDS!  I NEED GUARDS!”

Your eyes snapped to the door, where sure enough guards had come bursting in, swords drawn from their sheath.  When they saw you on the floor, and the hand to the king glaring at you, their own confusion came forth.

“THIS WHORE IS BETRAYING OUR GRACE!” he yelled, pointing at you, “FETCH HIM HENCE FORTH SO SHE SHALL BE DEALT WITH!”

“I-I would never betray you, my grace,” you whimpered, tears spilling down the apples of your cheeks as you dared look at your eldest brother.  You sniffled, shaking your head, “the hand…I swear it…he tried to for-“

“ENOUGH!” he screamed, in your face, slapping you hard. 

The guards held you up, and while your head snapped to the side, you caught a look from your sister and other elder brother.  Helaena was clinging to Aemond, and while Aemond remained stoic, you knew that Helaena was crying for both of them.

They knew you wouldn’t betray them.

You had given them the reprieve that they dreamed for.

The freedom to love and be loved as they were. 

All while giving up your own freedom to become Aegon's wife, despite your own love for him.

“You wish to do this?” he asked, staring you down with his one good eye, “you truly wish for this to happen?”

“Brother…” you sighed, reaching out to both Aemond and Helaena, “the two of you deserve nothing but happiness in this world…and I can see that you find it in one another…it is unfair to ask that you spend it otherwise.”

Helaena sniffled, taking your hand in both of hers.  She shook her head, “I-I wouldn’t ask this of you, Haethera, regardless of how you feel for him. It would not be a fair thing.”

“I will do what is right for our family…and if that means the two of you remain happy, and our brother is satisfied, I will endure.”

Helaena sniffled yet again, “I-I have seen how he looks at you…how he’s looked at you since we were children…I know you do not feel the same. Not truly. You only think you love him.”

“Well then, I will endure my duty to my grace, just as you will endure in happiness with Aemond.”

Your mother put her hand on your shoulder, “you wish to marry Aegon?”

“I wish to provide the kingdom with a dutiful queen,” you replied softly, looking at your mother, “I know that Helaena was chosen because she was the eldest, and able to give him heirs first…I will raise them as my own if I am allowed, and provide Aegon with many more heirs so that our dynasty will be a lasting one."

Aegon smiled from beside his mother, “you wish to be my bride, sister?”

You knew how he had wanted you. 

How he longed for you. And despite what your other brother and sister thought, your love ran deep for Aegon. He was gentle with you. Loving. The way you felt a true love would be with his significant other.

“I wish to serve you honestly, my grace,” you replied, bowing to him, “however you may see fit. I want to love and honor you, and bless you with as many heirs as you will let me.”

“I accept!”

“You were meant to serve me, Haethera…” he hissed, his hand grabbing at your jaw so that you were forced to look at him, “you were meant to be mine, in every sense of the word.  But the first moment a door is closed, you think you can spread your legs for anyone that you wish.”

“I spread my legs for no man,” you sobbed, wishing that he would believe you. But you saw nothing but anger in his eyes. No longer did he see you as someone he loved. You were a stranger, “I promised and pledged my loyalty, love, and devotion to you, my grace.  And I have not faltered…I would never falter. I love you, Aegon. I love you, my grace! Please!”

“I don’t believe you!” he hissed.  He looked to his guard and pushed his chin out, “cut her out of her garments.  Let the kingdom see the body of a whore, Sir Cristen.”

“Yes, your grace!” he nodded dutifully. 

Horror coursed through your veins as the knight pulled his dagger from his belt and stalked towards you.  You caught the lust in his eyes, and your stomach dropped. You did not want this. You did not deserve this.

You went to move, but the two guards on either side of you held you firmly.

“I advise you not to move, princess…” he said firmly, the small smirk growing as he stepped forward.  You looked away from him as you noticed the bulge in his pants.

He was turned on at your humiliation.

Your eyes went to Aegon’s in a silent plea. 

When you felt the cool kiss of the metal at your breasts as he traced their curves; your eyes closed.  Embarrassment flooded every part of you. 

The snow and wind kissed your naked frame as the cloth fell to the stage.  The quiet crowd murmured amongst themselves as a princess was presented in front of them, stark naked. 

Your nipples pebbled under the chilly day, goosebumps making your skin pimple as a shiver ran the length of your spine. 

Aegon, much like many other men in the area, eyed your body hungrily.  

Even though he was disgusted with you, you could see how much he hated having anyone else see your body but him.

“LOOK ME IN THE EYES FOR YOUR TREACHERY, WHORE!” Aegon commanded.  Tears spilled down your face again, making your numbing cheeks blotchy and even colder, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I serve only you, my grace,” you replied honestly, staring only into his eyes, “no man has had me…I-I've never been with anyone...I am yours and only yours!"

"LIAR!" he screamed in your face, “TO THE STOCKS WITH HER!”

The guards dragged you over to the stocks and forced you to bend into the position so that your hands and head were pointed in the direction of the crowd.  Your breasts hung away from your body, the air biting into your ample bosom. 

You jumped once when they flipped the top half back down, and again when the iron locks clicked on either side.  Aegon appeared in front of you, “you’re lucky that I do not simply kill you, Haethera…despite your lies, the hand has begged for mercy on your life…but I will force the people of this kingdom to see you for what you are.  You are nothing but a selfish whore willing to take any cock. To think that I loved you!"

“M-my grace…please…”

“You’re lucky I don’t let anyone who wants take a turn,” he uttered angrily, “I should dispose of you in such a manner…a whore who wants to look at other men when she promised herself for the sake of our siblings…a whore who wants to take another man’s cock when she’s promised to a king.”

“I have done no wrong, my grace!” you argued, "I- I swear it, Aegon. Please. I beg of you. My love is yours and yours only!"

“Deceitful little whore! Maybe I should let everyone fuck you!” he growled, “let them all use you as you clearly wish to be used…keep you as a way for the kingdom to earn money.  Let them fuck you like the whores in the red-light district.”

The tears fell down your cheeks even harder, rolling over the apple of your cheek and to the ground, “your grace…”

“You know what…I do not want a liar in my presence,” he said, shaking his head, “If you want other cocks…you shall have them…MEN OF MY GUARD!  THE PRINCESS’ PUNISHMENT IS DECREED.  SHE WILL SERVE OUT THE DAY IN THE STOCKS.  NAKED SO THAT ANY AND ALL WHO WISH TO FUCK HER LIKE THE WHORE SHE SO DESPERATELY WANTS TO BE, MAY DO SUCH.  MEN OF MY GUARD MAY GO FIRST, AND THEN SHE WILL BE AVAILABLE TO ANYONE WHO WISHES TO TAKE HER IN SUCH A MANNER AFTER THEY ARE DONE!  SHE MAY BE RELEASED AFTER EVERYONE THAT WANTS TO HAS THOROUGHLY FUCKED HER!”

“A-Aegon…”

His eyes snapped to yours. 

Suddenly you didn’t see the love that he’d held for you for most of your lives.

You saw complete and utter disgust.

“I do not like liars, Haethera…and you've manipulated my good graces for the last time. If you want to be sullied then you shall...but it won't be by me,” he seethed, “but you will get your desire…you will get any cock that wants you…SIR CRISTEN!  You are my most trusted knight.  Would you like to take the princess first?  She is no virgin, but I would offer you to her before anyone else sullies her as dedication for your service to me. Take her before she is loose and not worth a glance.”

You heard a scuffle behind yourself, and dread filled your stomach. 

From the bulge, you could tell that he was not on the small side. 

You jumped when his warm hand smacked your ass.  The fleshy globe jiggled and turned pink, mixing with the sting of he harshness and the chill of the air. 

The scuffle of his boots continued for a moment more and you heard the jingle of his belt, before the heavy thud on the floor of the stage.

You looked at Aegon, “brother…please…I-I would never betray you. Please...I-I wouldn't betray you. I've only ever loved you! Only ever thought of you! I want no other man! Only you!"

For a second it seemed like he was going to call the whole thing off. 

That he would tell you he believed you and apologize for your humiliation. 

You saw the sliver of the man who had been so loving to you your entire childhood. 

But it disappeared when Sir Cristen cleared his throat.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Aegon growled, “fuck the whore!” 

You screamed as you felt his cock probing at your entrance.

You were bone dry, and there was not going to be anything that would fix that.  

Sir Cristen grunted from behind you, spitting on his cock, before forcing himself into you.  Your body jolted and you screamed once more, being split open on his cock. 

You saw stars as the pain anchored itself through your cunt and through every nerve ending. 

Your tears fell harder as he grunted about how, ‘you were too dry’.  His thrusts feeling like he was shoving something that didn’t belong into a space too small.

“There it goes!” he grunted while you continued to cry out in agony. 

Aegon watched as you cried.  He shifted around the stocks to see you. 

If another man was going to take you, take the woman that he’d loved since childhood, he had to see it firsthand. 

That way he could get over you. 

But worry starting to coat his features when he noticed the smallest of details.  Sir Cristen’s eyes were closed as he was thrusting into you so he hadn't caught it.

But Aegon had.

You were not enjoying it. The ‘give’ had tinged his knight’s cock a shade of red. 

Dread filled his stomach as he knew in that moment that you had not lied to him. 

You had been a virgin. 

You had kept yourself for him and only him, just as you'd promised. He looked in horror from your core to his brother and sister. 

Both of them looked like they were in their own pit of despair for not coming to your side as well. 

“STOP!”

Sir Cristen ignored his king’s command, lost in his rhythm, until he was pushed from your shaking, crying frame. 

Aegon raced to the locks, and realized that he didn’t have the keys, “GOD DAMN IT, UNLOCK HER!”

“What is going on?” Sir Cristen grumbled as the others came forward with the keys.  He pushed towards the princess again, and that’s when he noticed the blood running down your thighs. 

Instantly, he felt sick for having gotten off on your pain.

“Princess…”

You were unlocked, and Aegon was quick to throw his cloak over your frame, pulling your sobbing frame towards his.

The two of you collapsed as he held you close, demanding that the guard evacuate the area.  You clung to him as the sobs wracked your body.

“Haethera…” he whimpered, instantly regretting everything he’d put you through, “Haethera…y-you weren’t lying…”

But you only sobbed as you clung to him, your mind off somewhere else as you blocked out your public raping by one of his loyal knights. 

All because he didn’t believe that you would remain loyal. 

That anyone could ever be devoted to Aegon Targaryen.

[dream-bee-baby]

Hello! Hello! LITERALLY SO EXCITED FOR THIS! Can I request a House of the Dragon and JJK matchup that involves a moonboard and 3 headcanons?

Here is my information!

FANDOM: JJK and HOTD

 Name: Anna Lee 

Pronouns: She/her

Preference: any gender (preferably a guy)

Personality: I am an INTJ Slytherclaw. Aquarius Sun, Sagittarius Moon and Aries Rising. Neutral Good. I am a huge overthinker and stress a lot with anxiety. People tell me that I can be blunt which results in people thinking that I can be cold but in reality I try to be a kind person when it is needed. I am a realist and many consider me to be intelligent, often asking me to help with their work. I’m incredibly passionate about things I like to do and have a thirst to know everyone’s opinions as I feel that if someone is left out. I’m a creative person but sometimes my brain just goes blank, I hate when it does. I have a really dry sense of humour that usually is a mix of sarcasm, fandom jokes or self degrading jokes. I'm an extremely stubborn person and have to be right about everything. From a young age, my parents were extremely strict and had expected the best out of me which resulted in me being an overachiever. I have to get things perfect or be the best at what I’m doing. I'm really sensitive, even some small harsh words are enough to make me teary. I’ve been called a crybaby because of that and to be honest, that is true. I give too much to other people since I’m afraid of saying no since what if they hate me? And I'm too scared to ask for help or to have something cause I think they will think I'm selfish and worthless. Not the best self esteem 😔 I love to listen to other people since I think not a lot of people have others that they can tell what they wish to say without getting judged or outcasted. But the problem is that I judge too easily too. As much as I want to show a good image to others and help them, I tend to focus on my own needs and how everything can affect me for the better or worse. I hate repeating things, especially in front of a big crowd. I daydream too much. When I get excited, I speak really quickly and stumble over my words which I get embarrassed by and stop talking. I am very sensitive, especially when it comes to my appearance and personality. I’m always afraid that people are constantly judging me or hate me, which is why I tend to avoid public spaces or being around people in general. When I get familiar with someone or a crowd, I’m not that afraid to state my opinion. I get jealous and possessive easily, like I mentioned my parents are strict meaning I got very few things of my own and those things only came to me because I tried so hard to get it. So when I see someone else with it, it just irks me off. I always make plans but I know I’m not going to complete them, I just like to imagine the future if I actually had motivation and energy to accomplish things. I can never start new things while completing old ones. I am also the oldest child and have 4 younger ones, another reason why I stress too much. I don’t think I mentioned this, but I get angry really easily. The slightest mistakes just pisses me off. I suck at short talks and starting conversations, it’s much easier to have lengthier conversations. I can never do presentations, I always get too nervous. Plus, my friends say my voice is really soft so no one ever hears me much, especially since I’m uncomfortable. When I get angry, my judgement is clouded. I am terrible at holding grudges. I would be upset at someone but the second I see them again, I feel normal and happy in a way. Probably said this before, but I’m a huge day dreamer and stubborn. I can’t concentrate on my work because I always get distracted and daydream about things I will never have. I normally appear composed but have a fiery temper. I really want to be a lawyer. My parents never let me use the internet much as a kid so I pretty much live under a rock but I am incredibly book smart. I am literally the personification of Eldest Daughter Syndrome and have been parentified since I was a child and because of this, I’m naturally good with kids and responsibilities. 

Looks:I’m slightly chubby and curvy with a pear-shaped body (Double D cups). Upon seeing me, many people point out my eyes which are hazel with slight flecks of many colours such as green and amber being the prominent ones. Almond eyes that are doe-like and slightly turn up at the end but barely noticeable. I have a button nose and thin heart shaped lips. My face is round and my eye shape is almond. I am approximately 5’3. Two small moles are fixated on my right cheek and underneath my lip. Long dark brown hair that almost appears black but that solely depends on the lighting. My hair reaches my hips and is kinda wispy at the end. It’s usually on a ponytail with a few strands framing my face. My clothing style tends to be anything comfortable and classy. I prefer to wear black and colours that are darker, you will never find me wearing orange or neon colours. 

Likes: Chocolate, Anime, Music, Food, Being right about something, Reading, Drawing, Strawberries, Smell of Rain, Sleeping, Being the Best, Baking and cooking (even tho I’m not that good at it)  Daydreaming, Murder Mysteries, Romance, Long walks, Making Ocs,  Fiction, Name hunting, Me, Pinterest, Spicy food, Sweets, Lavender, Aesthetics, and Flower Languages.

Dislike: Loud noises, Jerks, Prejudice People, Slow Walkers, People who chew loudly, Getting look down on, Insects, Studying, Fake People, Self-pity, Getting below 90% in a test, Snow, Overlysweet things, Going outside, and the feeling where your brain is blank and can’t tell what you feel like, Doing nothing all day and Tomatoes

Love Language: Physical Touch and Quality Time

Ideal Type: Pretty big Eyes. I’m actually weak for big baby eyes. I love charismatic people who are funny but know when to be serious. Will always be there for me and not afraid to speak their mind. Honest and loyal. Yet they would still help me see the light at the end of the tunnel and tell me it’s okay, that everything is gonna be okay. I wouldn’t like ‘innocent’ people nor ‘kind’ people cause I feel like I won’t be able to connect with them based on my morality level. Will be attentive to my needs. Not necessarily loud but not quite, somewhere in between. I want someone who I can feel okay around, as if everything was fine. Someone who would help carry a burden with me, we are together in everything. I’m really into the cocky characters? Like they are so hot and arrogant at the same time? type of person who would wait for me when I’m tying my shoelaces. Any hair colour is ok! Though I’m soft for blond and black hair. I love playing with other people's hair! A little bit clingy. I love the type of characters that I think I can ‘fix’ or like beautifully broken ones that make my heart ache. 

Ideal Date: I don’t have a certain type that I prefer but I will forever love soft domestic picnics with their head in your lap and eating goods of all kinds. Or just doing something fun like going out late at night and going on drive or watching stars and any spectacles. 

Hope this is enough information and Thank you in advance! 

House of the Dragon:

I ship you with Alicent Hightower! I've seen someone else has shipped you with her (after I thought of her) but I just think the pairing is soooo perfect, and that solidified it.

I think Alicent would adore just being around you, you're so comforting and have the ability to understand her completely and it means the absolute world to her. When you guys are one on one, she would love to braid your hair. As the maids do her hair most of the time, it's a way for her to learn a new skill and avoid picking at her fingers. During important meetings or anxious situations, she'd fidget with your rings or the edge of your clothes to avoid hurting herself. She would also find ways to ground you as well, she pays close attention to you. Knowing if you were about to overthink or get upset before you. She would do everything she could to help, holding your hand, kissing your tears, helping you take breaths in a hall, or exiling someone.

I think Alicent needs someone who isn't overly rough but not overly bubbly either, aka you, Anna Lee. You're in tune enough with your emotions and experiencing them without shutting down, which helps Alicent feel safe and welcome to also express herself however she needs. You two would spend plenty of alone, quiet time whenever she could spare it. Much preferring to spend time walking, reading to each other/together, allowing you to sit in on meetings and draw. I think Alicent would feel safe and comforted with physical touch. She'd constantly have a hand on you in public (subtly of course). But in private she'd prefer to have more casual and revealing clothes, feeling your skin and warmth grounds her and reminds her why she does what she does

Alicent wouldn't push you like you're used to. She would allow to do whatever you like, whether that means rotting in bed or taking over a country by storm. She respects you enough to let you build and lead the life of your choosing. She will fund everything she can, she'll pay the cooks extra to let you help them or clear out the kitchen entirely for you. One time she even tried to cook for you, it didn't totally go well but that means it's another activity you two can do together

Jujustu Kaisen:

I ship you with Megumi Fushiguro! Our blunt but secretly sensitive boy <3

The two of you would take some time to find your rhythm, but once you do you're unstoppable. There would be immediate curiosity about one another and interest, but Megumi would be confused about your changing demeanor and sensitive emotions. But he cares immensely about his loved ones, and would observe you and pick up on all your little tells. If you had a really shitty day, he'd throw his hoodie in the dryer and place it on your bed with some of your favorite snacks. He's the epitome of actions speak louder than words. Your "blunt" nature is perfect for him, he doesn't feel like he has to read between the lines and knows exactly how to respond. Although your emotions baffle him, he often just stays silent as to not say the wrong thing. He's a great listener and asks how you'd like to be supported (rant, need a solution, talk shit, agree with everything you say even if he doesn't understand). And after spending enough time together, he'll be much better at sweet words. He never says things he doesn't mean, which works well for you to reassure how much he cares for you

The two of you are constantly escaping to god knows where. As much as he's glad you get along with his friends, he can't always handle all those personalities. So he'd drag you away (or vice versa) and you'd work together to build a strawberry garden and plant lavender. He'd make a list of all the books you've read (categorized by genre of course) and he'd buy you new ones and make sure you don't get repeat copies. He'd also find ways to make foods spicy, he'd find a good sandwich recipe and spice it up or make regular ramen and add spices to it.

He loves listening to you talk about your passions and he also loves seeing you daydream. He just sits and silently smiles at you, it's the cutest most romantic thing to view from an outside perspective. He'd watch you in the kitchen, you'd go to reach for the next ingredient or a utensil you needed and his hand would be right there with the exact thing you needed. Megumi has many passions of his own, so you both encourage each other to build your lives but also create a more realistic expectation of yourself and goals. He'd always make you feel like everything you do is enough, because it is. He'd encourage you to try and spend more time doing nothing, or trying something new and learning what it feels like to fail. Because failing is important and natural, and he wants to help you be kinder to yourself in a realistic way