#wingman daemon

[presidenthades]

Alicent and Daemon.. That's a whole pack of worms

How would they even get along enough to make 4 kids 😭

Daemon swearing up and down to despise Otto and Alicent and then marrying Alicent and fathering and targ bro's and Helaena...

It actually would be really interesting how Daemon would treat the targ bro's and Hel,where he isn't insulting them every two minutes 💀

So here’s how I would make a “Daemon and Alicent get married and have the Targbros + Helaena” fic happen.

They probably get married around the same time Alicent married in canon, maybe because Viserys realized it might not be a great idea to secretly see a 15yo girl in his rooms…and then he foists responsibility onto someone else, i.e. his brother. Instead of banishing Daemon from court, Viserys annuls the Rhea Royce marriage and tells him to marry Alicent to show harmony and friendship with Otto. Viserys marries Laena instead.

Otto is horrified. Daemon is also horrified, until he realizes Otto hates it, and then Daemon decides he’s going to use this marriage to make Otto miserable by winning Alicent over from her father. Alicent might disapprove of some of Daemon’s activities, but we see in the Episode 1 tourney that she does seem to find him attractive at least. She is probably secretly relieved not to become the queen, although marrying Daemon would also cause a lot of friction with Rhaenyra.

I doubt Daemon would be an especially good husband to Alicent, but he would keep up appearances to fuck with Otto. Alicent is probably content to maintain appearances while mostly being left alone to care for her kids. She is less stressed about her kids being murdered, because they are very far down the line of succession, and few people are willing to mess with Daemon’s children.

In my AU, I tweaked the kids’ ages so Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond are only one year apart from each other. Baby #1 is conceived quickly during the honeymoon period. Daemon names him Aegon after his deceased younger brother and the Conqueror. Daemon is happy he has a healthy son so quickly, so this might prolong the honeymoon period.

Baby #2 shows up. It’s a girl, so Daemon lets Alicent name her, as long as the name sounds Targaryen. Baby #3 is another boy, and Daemon just rearranges one letter in his name ➡️ Aemond. So creative.

Rhaenyra gives birth to Jace around the same time Aemond is born, and a few moons later Laena gives birth to Baela and Rhaena. Laena survives and the twins are healthy, but complications render Laena unable to conceive again. Viserys still has no sons, so this cements Rhaenyra’s position as heir. Velaryons are disappointed but ultimately OK with this because Laenor is married to her and already has one legitimate child, so their blood is getting on the throne.

It does not escape Daemon and Otto’s notice that the only Targaryen males of the next generation are Daemon and Alicent’s kids. When Rhaenyra’s next kid is another girl, our favorite good-son and good-father duo reluctantly cooperate to scheme how to get their blood on the throne. The obvious solution is betrothing Aegon and Jace. Alas, Viserys is still in his “keep Daemon away from the throne” era and strongly discourages Rhaenyra and the Velaryons from accepting.

Daemon and Otto are still determined to marry Aegon and Jace for the Iron Throne, and also Aemond and Luce for Driftmark. Then they realize they should have at least one more boy to marry to Baela. By this point, Alicent is no longer starry-eyed about her marriage, but she’s carved out a space for herself at court, and her kids are all safe and healthy. She’s OK with having another child (it helps that Daemon is not a rotting corpse), and so Baby #4 is born. Daemon swaps one letter in his own name ➡️ Daeron.

Rhaenyra gives birth to Joff a few moons later. She has no interest in having any more children, since childbirth is so risky. Her three daughters are the most desirable marriage prospects ever, so there’s a lot of competition, and Viserys is not in favor of the Targbros. Luckily for them, their dad and grandpa 10000% prepared to be their wingmen 😎.

Ooh I almost forgot to answer how Daemon would treat his kids!

He and Aegon bond over a love of partying and roaming around Flea Bottom. Daemon is better than Viserys at keeping Aegon in shape, because Daemon is actually paying attention to his kids and ensuring they are competitive suitors for Rhaenyra’s daughters. Aegon is more inclined to listen to a dad who takes him out to gambling dens and ale houses for father-son time.

Aemond tries very hard to be like his father, which pleases Daemon. They do a lot of sparring together and talk about Valyrian history. Since Laena is still alive, Aemond can’t have Vhagar, but Daemon might take him on a secret outing to Dragonstone so he can claim Vermithor. Even though they are similar on a surface level, father and son probably still argue a lot because their pride gets in the way.

Daeron is very happy and friendly. Daemon has no idea where he gets it from. Daeron is the baby, so Daemon indulges him like everyone else does, but he really starts paying attention after Daeron is old enough to be whacked around the training yard/thrown onto dragonback.

Daemon isn’t sure what to do with Helaena at first, but unlike Viserys, he realizes that her prophecies aren’t just nonsense. Daemon has a healthy dose of skepticism (“dreams didn’t make us conquerors, dragons did”), but he would be intrigued by the idea of his daughter being a dragon dreamer. Considering Helaena’s abilities and the fact she’s Dreamfyre’s rider, Daemon might decide it’s better not to marry her away and just keep her at home. This makes Alicent happy.

[reireichu]

If your OC was canon, how would the fandom treat it? - For Sophie

So, I basically had to wait to finish writing Part VI before I could actually answer this question.

Welcome to the giant essay on the Honourable Miss Sophia Catherine Devereaux that absolutely no one wants.

Up until Part V, I would say that fandom's opinion and treatment of Sophia wouldn't be great. Sophie is exactly who she appears to be; beautiful, rich, inaccessible, perfect. She keeps it that way, she likes it that way, she puts on the mask and keeps it on for as long as she can. The little slivers of Sophie, who she is, it starts slipping out all the way through Part I to V. But most of fandom for Part I to V would find her incessantly frustrating, good, and empty and unapproachable--which is, you know, a very deliberate writing choice.

There might be a good amount of Sophie apologists, especially as parts of her get revealed. The hints of her eating disorder, the ambiguous reference to something that happened in her childhood, the slow revelation that she either has been pushed into being exactly like her mother or the opposite of her mother. I think there's a good amount of fandom who would be on the Sophia Devereaux Deserves Better train, because Sophie is very much, deep down, a broken, traumatised girl who has spent her life being repressed and manipulated by every single person around her.

Aegon and Sophie's relationship is probably polarising, because it's a slow burn that isn't very exciting, and the moment they fuck, she pushes him right away. She incites his jealousy by flirting with Rhaenyra. She basically activates Daemon's Creepy Batman mode. Why does she need all this when she has Aegon? This would probably be one of the most frustrating things for fandom, either the people who WANT her with Aegon, or the ones who want 'better' for Aegon. Honestly, it's easy to paint Sophie as a bit of a bisexual bicycle slut, considering that it's hinted that she and Cassandra Baratheon had also been a thing.

Sophie's beauty is something that would also have this great discourse in fandom--is Sophie more than her physical asset, which is her beauty, or is she just this shallow vessel that people project their desires onto? Who the fuck is Sophie fucking Devereaux and why does everyone want to fuck this girl who doesn't give anything away except a witty remark and a dry laugh. She's a projection of ideal feminine beauty, with modern career drive. She's nice and compassionate, she can be a judgement upper class bitch--she's been raised that way, she's a sheltered and manipulated trauma victim--she would inflame a lot of hatred and love. I also think that for some people, she's boring or she's annoying. And then for others, they might identify in her traits about themselves that is a reaction to trauma in their own lives, or a projection of how they react to society--some of this might or might not be writer projection, la la la.........

Fandom's favourite thing for Sophie would basically with a generational comparison to Alicent. Deliberately set up, Alicent and Sophia--two white, wealthy, well bred girls who are being hunted by Targs left and right. Alicent and Rhaenyra in their girlhood versus Sophia and Cassie in theirs. Rhaenyra and Alicent versus Rhaenyra and Sophie. Alicent's distance to Aegon versus Alicent's distance to Sophie. Their physical appearance--although, Alicent has distinctly auburn hair, she and Sophie both have very big big eyes that emote their every thought. It's revealed that Dalton's nickname for Sophia is 'puppy' and her eyes are the reason for that. Those big big eyes, which actually was one thing that Aegon subconsciously draws comparison to his own mother about. The parallels are all there, setting up Sophia to be preyed upon and targetted and ruined by a Targaryen man (or woman), and then...

HELLO THE GHOST OF HAMLET'S FATHER IS HERE TO SUE ME FOR CREATIVE LICENCE.

Enter, Cathy fucking Devereaux.

The ghost of Cathy Devereaux running around like a demented version of Hamlet's dead dad is the best thing about this fic, and I won't hear otherwise because Cathy brings me too much joy as she has singlehandedly devastated every man I put in her fucking path.

The parallels of Sophie and Cathy take over slowly, the shift around Part IV. There's a lot of Cathy in Sophie's memory, even though Sophie stated in Part I that Cathy died when she was ten years old from a sailing accident. It's a throwaway line, drawing this comparison of her and Aegon's relationships with their mothers that then does this face turn, and that's when I think fandom gets really either frustrated as fuck with Sophie or actually want to just put her into therapy. Cathy is this phantom looming over Sophie's shoulder. The beautiful dead girl, the one and only late Catherine Devereaux who Sophie bears a strong resemblance to--I would live for the fucking gif comparison for these two. But to basically be a projection of her mother's memory, I think that's where there's this concern for Sophie. It's taken a toll on her mentally for her whole life--she's described herself as having 'battled nature in my own heart', which is a key thing: is she battling being like Cathy or being the opposite of Cathy? Which is it? How confusing would that be? Who the fuck wants to spend their entire life being compared to the one who came before? I think that's where the fandom view of Sophie slowly slips a bit, they'd honestly either love or hate the amount of influence Cathy has over Sophie even though she's been absent for most of Sophie's life.

Part V, aka the Daemon interlude because how the FUCK did Daemon get his own fucking chapter (I cannot even, I still cannot even--you know what, fandom can either be outraged or happy, I don't fucking know. Daemon's fucking interlude exists bc Hamlet's father deemed it worthy); you start seeing hints of Sophie from a lens that isn't Aegon's or her own. Albeit a Cathy fogged lens, but you still Sophie and Daemon talking, you see how she pushes and pulls a person away with such nonchalance, but you also see that Sophie deliberately plays with fire.

There's going to be one small part of fandom that would gif the fuck out of 'Sophie's staring at someone' to discern whether she's thinking of ruining their whole career. I would again live for these gifs. I will also live for the comparison of them to Alicent and Cathy.

Fandom would also have a blast discussing the Sophie - Alicent - Rhaenyra - Cathy - Laena soft power versus hard power. I wish I could touch more on Laena's divorce, but that's not happening due to the narrative (or for now, because let's face it, I want to see her obliterate Daemon and call him out for being a crappy dad). It adds into the viewpoint of how women either have to push or manipulate and the way they do it. IDK, to me, I would be fascinated over that sort of thing.

Okay, so all of this builds until Part VI where for one gloriously horrid scene that had so much fucking dialogue I wanted to punch every single man in the room (hey Larry!), Sophie's attractiveness, her charm, her appeal, her standoffishness ruins her in the eyes of the viewers and in the eyes of Aegon. A man killed himself over her! She fucked her teacher! She broke up a marriage! She's had an abortion! She's done this to so many people, she's fucking Rhaenyra, she saw you and put you in her crosshairs.

Sophie is a wicked bitch.

She's her mother's daughter.

Beautiful, selfish, wicked.

She's slept around on them, she'll sleep around on you, Aegon. She's the cold perfect bitch you knew she was, and you fell into that trap anyways. Fuck her.

Why is it that Aegon can't have nice things. Did he do this, does he just keep choosing shitty people? He did coke off his brother's fiance's D cups, he drives his lambo into hospitals. Aegon isn't a saint, he's down in hell, but she fucking knew he was damaged and she still decided to toy with him.

And then well.

It makes you wonder, how many people forget the thing that made Rhaenyra worthy of protection, how many people forget that just like her, Sophie was just a girl as well. Alicent was just a girl. They were just young girls in a world where the wolves feast on girls lost in the forest of old country estates.

Fandom, I think, would have no idea what to fucking do about Sophie at this point, because dear readers, no one ever really knew Cathy. She was a beautiful ghost.

Her daughter is exactly the same.

.

.

.

Okay fine, I was being dramatic as fuck.

I think by the end of Part VI, fandom will erupt into two camps where you will either love her or hate her. You can believe what was said at the intervention, or you can question it. How much of it was true? How much of it was real? What part of her 'relationship' with Aegon so far has been real? And then, and be united in the question of "what the fuck happened and what truth are they hiding?" and also united in the camp of "alicent's marriage makes me want to commit violence" and many other things. I'm firmly in the "raise your hand if you've been personally victimised by Cathy Devereaux" camp because I'm writing the whole fucking thing.

Some of the things they said about Sophie at the intervention was true. I won't tell you what was true, you can work it out yourself.

Yes, Sophie has been seeing Rhaenyra since the benefit, one and off.

Aegon, the inflamed little hypocrite, has been fucking Cassandra. I like to think that this is equal opportunity sluttiness for them both.

But, there is something that I think fandom can appreciate about Sophie in a way. I think that Aegon's compassion towards Alicent, how he says to her what Sophie said to him, seeing him lost and broken, the first compassion he's shown to his mother in a long time, I think that some of fandom will appreciate the fact that this was something Sophie has influenced. She's never tried to fix Aegon, but there is an influence there. She's not going to tell him to stop being a trainwreck--she's a bit busy, being haunted by ghosts, being a doctor, telling Jace and Hannah off for being so cute together--but she has gotten through to him without forcing it onto him. It's a rare thing, but it's one of the parts of the story that I've been trying to build towards.

Also, in other breaking news, I now have to write the rest of this fucking melodrama, so excuse me as I go fling myself into the lake with the exiled Russian prince's drowned wife.

Stay tuned for another episode of meta and insight no one asked for, next week featuring the rom-com known as Jace Velaryon and Hannah Kim and how Jace mispronounced bulgogi!

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Himbo!Baratheon!Reader except it’s during the HOTD Timeline? Like them being the only son of Borros Baratheon and fostered by the Velaryons as Borros was a die-hard Rhaenys supporter before the dance happened, during the succession issue and he thought maybe sending the Reader when he was of age would cheer her up a bit?

Oh, anons, you’ve both read my mind! Yes, I have 1000% thought of Himbo!Baratheon!Reader being a part of the HotD timeline and I can’t quite put my finger on whether it’s a much more worse situation for him than the GoT timeline already is or not. Either way he’s stealing the hearts of men and women alike all over again and is none the wiser to it, as well as forming alliances and friendships with just a smile.

I imagine Himbo!Baratheon!Reader not necessarily being Borros’ firth born but he’s is one and only son and for that Borros favors him immensely. In other words the Reader is the apple to his eye and can easily get what he wants from his father without even trying. Borros would definitely foster the Reader to Rhaenys, she’s the only one he would be willing to send his beloved son too. Not only would it be his way of showing his support to his cousin but also just giving her a piece of family to have by her side, and I can’t express enough just how much Rhaenys would adore Himbo!Reader. She holds such a deep, deep fondness for her cousin’s child and couldn’t be happier that the Reader is with her and her family, growing up alongside Laenor and Laena. Also, you know damn well Himbo!Reader is hyping the fuck out of Rhaenys, telling her how much of a real queen she would have made and that she was done so dirty.

I love the thought of Himbo!Baratheon!Reader being able to really get Rhaenys to laugh and smile. Like, she could be completely stone faced, cold hearted bitch face to the max only for Himbo!Reader to walk in and she has nothing but the brightest and most genuine smile because of his mere presence. Also, Laenor and Laena would grow up both harboring massive crushes on the Reader. And I have no doubt that Borros and Rhaenys have already discussed betrothing Himbo!Reader and Laena to each other. That is until Rhaenyra comes into the picture and immediately decides that Himbo!Reader is going to be hers, whether he be her lover or her husband.

Himbo!Reader would be so close to both Laenor and Laena. I have no doubt that the Reader finds out about Laenor’s preference for men and he couldn’t careless about it, it wouldn’t tarnish anything between him and the Reader whatsoever. And the Reader would promise to keep his secret while also totally being Laenor’s wingman (similar to how he would be with Renly). The only thing about it is that Himbo!Reader is completely and utterly clueless to Laenor’s affections towards him. Also, you can’t change my mind that Himbo!Baratheon!Reader wouldn’t be Laenor’s first time if he asked him to, although the Reader would be completely under the impression that he’s just doing his best bro a favor and nothing more to it.

When it comes to Rhaenyra, I imagine her really meeting the Reader for the first time at the turned that takes place at the beginning of the series. Like, Himbo!Baratheon!Reader is absolutely fucking everybody’s shit up but it isn’t until it’s the Reader going against Daemon where the real anticipation happens, only for Himbo!Reader to fuck Daemon’s whole world up. Not only is that when Rhaenyra’s interest was piqued, but so was Daemon’s.

Not to mention, since the Reader is with the Velaryons then he would have fought alongside Daemon against Crabfeeder and it’s then that Daemon bears witness to Himbo!Reader’s incredible battle strategy and fighting prowess. And to say he’s hooked would be an understatement.

I just can’t help but imagine yanderes Alicent, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and Daeron with Himbo!Baratheon!Reader. Especially when Aemond loses his eye and that whole ordeal. One thing I can say for sure is that Himbo!Baratheon!Reader protects Rhaenyra from getting hurt, but instead of stopping Alicent before she can do anything he just steps between the two women and instead takes the dagger completely but he would be completely unaffected by it. Like, the man doesn’t acknowledge that he’s been stabbed whatsoever, he’s just focused on trying to make things a little better. He would be talking gently and soothingly to Alicent, trying to calm her all the while he’s got this dagger sticking out of him and everyone else is freaking out about it.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Good As Gold

The Blonde Boys Club

Aemond Targaryen x Ranger!Reader + Legolas Greenleaf x Ranger!Reader

Summary: It had been nearly a century since you've seen a dragon, and the sight was as captivating as the first time (the dragon rider shared the sentiment [of you], your mountain ranging partner did not).

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, elf!reader, reader is also blonde, sassy!legolas, puppy!aemond, vhagar wingman?, jealousy, possessives, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: this fic is part of my blonde boys club series so if you liked my daemon vs geralt one you might like this lolol though they have nothing to do with each other also i dont know any elvish expressions and very little lotr lore and asoiaf lore sooooo if you would like to help/correct me im lol im down Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targeryenmoony lol i hope you like aemond and legolas lolol Part 2 "Dragon Rider"

I hear my name echo down the mountain I was quickly descending. I was too excited by the smell in the air to care for either my partner, nor the fact that I nearly tripped, like, three times.

"Slow down!" Legolas chastises in Elvish, "you don't know what you're getting us into!"

I chuckle as I run towards a tree and lean there to turn to Legolas, who was quickly pacing over to me, "is that fear I hear, my prince?"

Legolas stops a few feet away from me upon hearing that, heaving slightly from the elevated rock he stood on. He then jumps down beside me without a struggle. Once he is before me, he leans in, pressing a hand on the truck behind me, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinizes my face, "unfortunately, I have learned to fear your foolishness."

I let out a soft, amused breath as Legolas withdraws the arm he was leaning on to push some of my golden hair behind my ear. He tilts his head as he asks, "what is so intriguing to you about that reptilian?"

I roll my eyes, "other than the fact," I pull away and begin to trail off again, "those beasts are massive and breathe fire--"

"Which have caused a great many civilizations desolation."

"Yes, but those dragons do not have riders. This one does!" I exclaim as Legolas and I continue down our way, "my father told me stories of when he witnessed prince Jaehaerys' mount, Vermithor, during a certain battle. He said their might was terrifying, and the fact those where my father's words intrigue me further."

Legolas sighs, shaking his head as he mutters lowly in Elvish, "foolish girl."

I shove him as we finally make it to the foot of the mountain, "you do not have join me, you poltroon."

Legolas raises his nose in offence, grabbing my arm as he leans down towards me, "the day I let a gobemouche, rattlecap like you off their leash is the day I admit to being a poltroon."

I snort, pulling my arm away from him, "I will count the days to it, my friend."

Legolas stills.

I walk off again and shoot him a look when he does not follow, "come on, gaffer. I will not forgive you if we miss them."

Aemond was stroking Vhagar's face as she gulped up the water in the river, blocking its flow momentarily with her jowls. When she pulls away, a strong gush of water comes rushing back its stream.

The prince watches the river flows for a moment. He turns over his shoulder, hearing something besides the water and his dragons breathing. Then he draws out his sword when he distinguishes the sound of the loud call.

"DĀRILAROS!"

Aemond stiffens as he withdraws from Vhagar, face tensing, body readying in a fighting stance as again the word dārilaros is shouted once more, though this time it is cut off.

"What in the name of the good earth are you doing?" Legolas slaps a hand on my mouth, muttering Elvish under his breath, as he eyes me darkly.

I rip his hand off me then shove him, "I'm making ourselves known so that we don't startle them!"

"And do you honestly think that wise?!" Legolas snips.

"Better than showing up soundless," I rebut.

He scoffs, "it's hardly our fault that other folk are incapable of going about their business gracefully."

I inhale deeply then scream once more, "DĀRILAROS!"

Legolas grabs my arm, sharply demanding, "what are you even saying?!"

I take a moment to think before replying, "I think it means princess."

He growls, "and what if the rider was a prince?"

"Then at least he is aware of my limitations in Valyrian!" I push him away once more.

Aemond watches the figures come out of the woods. He raises his sword slightly, calling out, "qilōni is konīr?!"

Legolas and I emerge from the trees, spotting the armed man with equally light hair as the two of us.

"What is he saying?" the elf beside me questions under his breath as we slowly walk towards him.

"I don't know!" I panic.

"You don't know?!" Legolas turns to me.

I turn to him, "I never said I knew Valyrian!"

"Oh," he narrows his eyes, "and how did you suppose we were going to-"

Legolas and I turn away from each other when the man barked out something in the foreign language again. He looked agitated, and I practically could feel Legolas itching to draw his bow.

I rack my brain, trying to recall the other words I remember from that pocketbook I read as a child.

"Zaldrīzes!" I call, raising a hand victoriously.

Legolas measures the man's reactions to the word.

"Nyke," I place a hand on myself as I think of other words. I hum, looking out to the side, "zaldrīzes... gevie."

That did it.

"What did you say?" Legolas asks, upon seeing the man sheathe his sword.

"I, and dragon, and beautiful... ... at least I think."

Legolas turns to me, "by the stars, you dunce!"

"What do you want with my dragon?" the man calls out, leaning on one of his legs, hand gripping on his belt.

"Hmp," Legolas sounds, "and you wasted your time making a fool of yourself in a foreign tongue."

I ignore this. "I only wanted to look at your mount, your grace!" I call cupping my mouth with my hands.

"Feast your eyes then," he calls, turning to his side, proceeding to speak something I could not make out.

All at once, the mountain behind him begins to move, except it was never a mountain to begin with, it was a mammoth fire breather.

Legolas and I step back, eyes widening at the sight of beast. The size of the thing was awe inspiring and frightful all at once. In my eagerness to take the sight in, I reel back quickly, shoving the elf next to me along the way.

He scolds me in Elvish impatiently, grabbing my arms to keep me from falling. I don't even catch what he says because I'm too preoccupied with being stunned to care.

When I notice the dragon's head, I let out a sound, eyes widening, lips curving. I mutter to myself in Elvish, "what fierce beauty."

Legolas makes a face, "I must report that you have your eyes checked. It is no business for a ranger to be blind."

I push him off and walk towards the dragon eagerly. I had forgotten all about his rider up until I made it halfway and the sound of a sword unsheathing and Legolas calling out to me frantically made me freeze. I release a breath, hearing the telltale tension of Legolas' drawn bow from behind me.

I look at the man in front of the dragon, somehow only realizing he had an eyepatch on, and raise my hands up to in surrender, "mellon."

Legolas rolls his eyes with his bow outstretched in his hands, "friend!"

"Friend!" I correct myself, "we mean you no harm prince, I swear on my honor." I turn to his dragon, "I caught the scent of your dragon and told myself I would not end my patrol until I finally caught sight of it."

The one eyed prince tilts his head at my words, sword still aimed at me.

"You've come here once before, have you not, to allow your dragon to rest?" I speak as I nod, "I truly wish to only behold the sight of the creature. I swear it."

He looks between me and Legolas, silently debating with himself for a moment.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Legolas whines in Elvish.

I ignore him yet again, but the other does not.

"What did your mellon say?" he asks, narrowing an eye at me.

I cannot help the chuckle that leaves me. I clear my throat to mask it, "that this was a bad idea."

"Mmm," he slightly lowers his sword, "you don't seem to share sentiment."

I shake my head, attempting to further mask the excited grin that threatens to spread on my lips, "I do not, my prince."

"I am your prince," Legolas calls in our shared mother tongue.

The man lowers his sword completely, turning to Legolas again, "what did he say this time?"

I slightly turn my head then steal a glance at the elf I knew would hold annoyance on his features. I was correct. I turn my gaze back, "that he is my prince."

The dragon rider lifts his jaw, "and is he?"

"He is," I nod once. I step back and extend behind me, "he is Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of the Woodland Realm, Prince of Mirkwood."

The reaction this elicits was unexpected. The man straightens up at the information, and to both our surprise, offers Legolas a respectful nod in regard.

"I am Prince Aemond, second born of house Targaryen by King Viserys and Queen Alicent Hightower."

I turn to my prince, watching as he knits his brows. Legolas only now lowers his bow to offer the same nod in regard to the other prince.

"And who are you?" prince Aemond asks, turning back to me.

I look over and give him a curtsy as I tell him my name, "I am the ranger assigned on these parts. I am also admirer of your ride, prince Aemond."

"How did you know I was a prince before introducing myself?"

I knit my brows, "we learn more than Elvish history, your grace, and I would think it is common knowledge that if a dragon has a rider, then that rider is of royal blood."

Prince Aemond hums and watches as the other prince walks up behind me.

"I would you very much like it if you introduced me to your mount, prince Aemond," I smile softly, "would that be possible?"

I am shocked to see the shocked expression that washes on the Targaryen's features. I catch the shine of his purple irises and even how his breath hitches at my words.

My jaw hangs low, just as Legolas nudges me, muttering under breath, "you've really done it now," in Elvish.

"I-" I roll my shoulders back, shaking my head. I bow when I say, "I apologize, your grace. I did not realize it would be a scandalous request."

"She does not busy herself with thinking very often when she is swept up in excitement," Legolas calls, coming to my defense with an insult. Quite usual of him. "What did you expect would happen anyway?"

I snap at Legolas, who was already looking at me in contempt, "well, I thought it would be like introducing someone to a dog."

"A dog?!" the Elf's face contorts.

"Or a horse!" I exclaim.

"You do realize that it is not common practice to introduce strangers to a pet."

Prince Aemond's laugh cuts our argument and makes us turn to him. He cocks his head to the side, "how amusing of you, ranger, to liken a dragon to a dog or horse."

I pull a guilty smile, "my apologies. Please forget that I ever-"

"No," prince Aemond raises a hand, stepping forward. He knits his brows and presses his lips as he looks at me, "I am merely... taken aback that you would like to see my dragon."

I pull my head back at how he stressed his words, "I see. Is it because we are Elvish?" I motion between Legolas and I, "as I have mentioned, we do make it a point to learn about a great many things--"

"Mmm," he places his hands behind his back.

"-- and I am awfully eager to learn more about your fire breather."

A wind blows again. All three of our blonde hair dances with the wind. Aemond watches as Legolas pushes my hair back so that it does not fly to my face. The massive dragon huffs at the blowing air, the deep sound the creature emits from their great, black, spikey body vibrates beneath our feet.

It leaves my own body tingling in excitement. My jaw hangs low as I look to Legolas with wonder, gripping his arm tightly, "do you feel that?!"

"Yes, I do," he looks at me with a worried face.

Aemond cannot help but allow his lips to curve slightly upward at the sight of the excitement before him.

I turn to prince Aemond, grinning widely as I point to his dragon, "zaldrīzes, gevie!"

His nostrils flare. He turns away when he smiles. Legolas narrows his eyes at him.

I hum as I grip my chin in thought, "I do not know how to say mighty in Valyrian."

Prince Aemond turns back to me, face still bearing remnants of amusement. He extends a hand out, "come. I will introduce you to Vhagar."

My stomach drops and I let go of Legolas, "will you truly?!"

The prince forces his smile away, "yes, I've just said so, haven't I?"

Legolas jolts when I dash over to the other prince and eagerly take his hand. It seems even prince Aemond is shocked my by actions. He clears his throat and looks away. I turn my gaze as well, looking out to the creature he called Vhagar.

Legolas is the one who catches how Aemond's ears begin to burn red. The elf clearly hears the voices before him, though it is hushed and he is following slowly behind.

"I have not seen yet someone so eager to meet a dragon that is not theirs before," prince Aemond says as he leads us up to his dragon's head, "perhaps, apart from myself."

I crane my neck out, trying to find the face of the dragon up front. I turn to the prince, seeing that his eye is focused sharply on me. I turn to my feet, thinking of a reply. I cannot think of one, and so I turn to him and say, "I do not know what to respond to that, prince Aemond."

"Aemond is fine," he says, turning away, "besides, I am not a prince to you, am I?" he says, looking over his shoulder.

I mimic and find Legolas is a few good paces behind us.

"A prince is a prince," I say, instinctively gripping his hand in mine. When he snaps his gaze to the sight of our joined hands, I loosen my grip and nearly withdraw. "I apologize, I-"

"S'fine," he mutters, releasing my hand to instead grab my wrist. His strides grow wider after that.

He says something indistinguishable to my ears once we reach the neck of the creature. The prince walks closer, dropping his grip on me altogether, pressing both of his hands on the side of the dragon's face once he reaches it.

The sight leaves me breathless. There is an evident acknowledgement between them, keeper and companion. It reminds me of the creatures I have nurtured throughout my life. It makes my heart warm and constrict all at once.

Legolas clenches his fists and rolls his wrists.

Prince Aemond turns to me, watching me for a moment. He presses his lips before he extends a hand out again. He mutters something under his breath, and in all my good hearing, I do not catch it.

I inch towards him slowly, taking his hand with more caution this time around. A chill runs down my spine when I feel his hot hand. It was much warmer than it was a while ago.

He pulls me towards him, stepping back and moving behind me as he takes my other hand.

My heartbeat begins to quicken when I realize just how intimate the act of introducing a dragon is. I then realize it was perhaps for this reason the prince was truly shocked and apprehensive at the notion I presented him with.

I can hear the prince's own pulse hasten in his ribcage.

He rests his hands above mine and presses it down until I am touching the dark dragon scales before me. My stomach, at this point, is rolling, crashing like angered ocean waves. I close my eyes as allow myself to feel the skin beneath my palms.

Prince Aemond's breathing is greatly taxed when he mutters just behind my pointed ears, "you are now acquainted to my dragon, Vhagar."

[monstersdownthepath]

Herald of Shelyn: The Spirit of Adoration

CR 15

Neutral Good Large Outsider

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 308

This gorgeous gal is said to be the incarnate of Shelyn's hope and love, born directly from the emotions of the Goddess of Love, and it shows. The Spirit of Adoration (who's title I will be shortening to 'the Spirit' or SOA from now on) is one of the rarest of the Heralds to ever see, as she spends the majority of her time in Nirvana, frolicking among the gardens of her mistress and creator. For vast swaths of her existence, the Spirit does little but entertain and interact with people coming and going from Blossomheart, the divine domain of Shelyn, putting her +22 to Perform and her Bardic talents to use. The only times she leaves are on diplomatic relationship missions with other planes... and as the occasional muse for a mortal in dire need of some beauty in their life.

Able to take the shape of any Small or Medium Humanoid, the Spirit masquerades as a bright and beautiful Bard when cavorting among mortals. She exists to lift spirits, dispel darkness, bolster love, inspire art, and preserve beauty, all things she excels at. Not over is she an incredible marriage councilor, but a phenomenal wingman, standing by the side of someone hopelessly in love but unable to pursue it, either because they physically cannot or simply don't know how; in either case, the Spirit provides answers and guidance.

Whether it's helping a budding relationship or helping an artist hone their skills, the Spirit can hand hand out upwards to six tokens of Inspiration, which often take the form of jewelry. So long as someone carries the token, they're blessed with a +4 insight bonus to Will saves, as well as Craft and Perform checks. Any Bard holding onto the token also gains +6 rounds of Bardic Performance per day regardless of their level, and the Spirit always knows the condition and emotional state of a token holder, arriving to their aid if they ever begin slipping... and if they put the token down for too long, she will know that it's because her job is done and they no longer need her blessing, letting her free up the slot for the next soul in need.

The Spirit is a noncombatant for the majority of her life, a far cry from most Heralds and very fitting for the servant of a goddess who holds out hope for even the most vile of souls. Even when pushed into battle, the Spirit seeks to end it as quickly as possible via diplomacy, charm, and calm explanations, saving violence only for creatures which cannot be reasoned with--namely, mindless Constructs and Undead--but even then preferring to fight only until they pose no danger to an innocent, going so far as to knock out and imprison the likes of daemons rather than dispatching them. While some may see her all-loving nature as foolish in such a universe, like her goddess she maintains that redemption, beauty, and love can be found in anything and given to anyone.

Remember that she's a merciful being as I explain to you just what could happen if that mercy ever stopped.

It takes a while to get there, mind. The Spirit's entire kit is devoted to keeping fighting to a minimum, to the extent that she has a Charming Aura that causes any creature within 30ft of her that fails a DC 24 Will save to be charmed for a day if they fail. A power like that would certainly be useful in the hands of a nefarious fiend, but the Spirit only uses it to get on everyone's good side to make them more amenable to her attempts at Diplomacy (which she has a +17 in).

She's also got Calm Emotions at-will for the same reason, and her aforementioned 40 rounds of Bardic Performance to distract or fascinate hostile crowds long enough for her to try and talk them down from their rampage. Should that fail, she has Good Hope and Inspire Courage +4 to aid any nearby allies in efforts to pacify the opposing force. She will refuse to kill any thinking being and will hesitate to harm even unthinking ones beyond the point of healing, using her at-will Cure Moderate Wounds to spare both ally and enemy from death in the hopes that her enemies will see the folly of their actions and begin walking the road to redemption.

While 40 rounds is usually enough to last her an entire day, there is the small but amusing interaction with her Inspiration power, in that she's not restricted from giving herself her own token, granting herself a +4 to Will saves and Craft/Perform checks, as well as +6 rounds of Performance if for whatever reason 40 isn't enough. If the DM allows her to do that, it's important to note that the stat enhancement is an insight bonus, meaning it STACKS with her own Unearthly Grace, which adds her Cha mod to her AC and all her saves; this means her saves go from an already impressive +17/+20/+24 to +17/+20/+28. She doesn't have immunity to mind-affecting effects, but between her 26 SR and a +28, she may as well; foes of a similar level to her simply can't affect her with anything that targets her Will unless she rolls a 1.

Her DR 10 is bypassed by Evil weapons like most celestial Outsiders, but she's immune to the common Fire and the typically-reliable Sonic, and has 30 Resistance to Acid and Electricity. She's not just sturdy, but she's also fast, moving 40ft a round on the ground and a 60ft fly speed with a proper +17 to Fly, allowing her to make impressive and often beautiful aerial maneuvers. Even beyond that, if she can see you she can just be there because she's got Teleport at-will, letting her appear directly next to anyone who's posing a threat to her or her charge. She's got a 10ft space and 10ft reach... but her statblock is a little ambiguous as to whether her 10ft reach is because of her weapon, a +2 Dancing Glaive, or in addition to it (which would make her reach 20ft). The downside that the glaive can't be used to attack creatures directly adjacent to her, but that's mitigated by the fact it's a Dancing weapon, allowing it to fight entirely on its own even when she moves, and leaving her hands free to cast spells, go full-defense, or open-palm slap someone for 5 nonlethal damage.

Whether she's wielding it herself or letting it dance around her, the glaive can attack up to four times a round for 2d8+8 damage, tripled on a critical hit. While she tends to go for nonlethal, the real use of her weapon is to disarm her foes; she's got Improved Sunder and a weapon strong enough to make that hurt, smashing apart her foes' weapons and armor if she just doesn't reach over and take them once she has them calmed, charmed, fascinated, or stunned.

"Stunned?" Oh yes. At will as a standard action, the Spirit can make a Stunning Ray ranged attack at anything within 180ft, blasting a target with a dazzling beam of light that deals 1d8 untyped and irresistible damage. Any creature impacted by the beam must make a DC 24 Will save or be stunned for 1d6 rounds, time the Spirit uses to rid them of their gear whenever she can... and, as the book states, time she uses to talk to them. Yes, for the entire duration of your stun, a 10ft tall beautiful woman will be trying to talk you out of continuing the battle. If you say "no, I'm going to keep fighting," guess what? There's no 24-hour immunity on her ray, so she may just blast you again... and again, and again, and again, and again, all the while relieving you of your equipment and perhaps even breaking it in front of you, until you either succeed the save (only to fail it again next round) or finally break down and surrender.

I don't know about you, but I think if I was some nameless soldier ready to kick some schmuck's teeth in, and the incarnate of resolute love and beauty descended from the heavens specifically to tell me to knock it off, I might begin questioning 'are we the baddies?'

And you know what? I've said all this without revealing the Spirit's nuclear option: Bardic Magic. 3/day, the Spirit can cast any Bard spell of any level. Do you know what most Heralds lack? Level 7+ spells. Do you know what the Spirit of Adoration has? 3 castings of any level 8+ equivalent spell in the game. Besides simple and silly utility options, the Spirit of Adoration can simply end any fight by casting oh, say, Overwhelming Presence, Waves of Ecstasy, or Hymn of Peace. And that's just defensive; offensive it's even worse, because Bards have access to spells including Shadow Evocation, Shadow Enchantment, and Shadow Transmutation, effectively meaning the Spirit of Adoration's spell list is "all of them." Bardic Magic is basically 3 castings of Limited Wish, except even stronger since the Bard's lower spell levels allow some sneaky power houses like Irresistible Dance, Mass Suggestion, Brilliant Inspiration, and Greater Shout, which are normally outside the power of Limited Wish. The DM is essentially encouraged to let the Spirit pull out whatever insane nonsense she needs to at a whim... but note that Bardic Magic is actually casting a spell, NOT using a spell-like ability! She has to provide components, if any are needed!

It's still a powerful option, and it makes her considerably more versatile than she already appears to be, in AND out of combat, and makes her just as dangerous as any Bard can be while surrounded by allies with fewer qualms about using lethal force. If you think she's dangerous on her own, just imagine how obnoxious Stunning Ray will be when there's a hasted Barbarian bearing down on you...

You can read more about her here.

[aphrodisiac-siren]

Dynasty of Flames

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen-Royce Reader

Summary: Being born into the most respected and equally feared houses in the realm made people look up to you as if you were a god and the devil himself, in equal measure. People say that when a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin; and when news of the birth of Daemon’s firstborn- a girl, spread, people could only wait in anticipation to see which side of the coin faced up during her birth. 

Aemond being uptight af and Aegon being the most adorable wingman. Some lighthearted sibling banter??

Warnings: Incest (duh), swearing.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,

Part 4

When night came and supper was over and done with, Aegon visited Aemond's chamber's before he could make himself scarce and busy himself with his nightly endeavours into the city. Aegon and his younger brother had never been close as children but after the loss of Aemond's eye, the older boy had become a touch closer to him. They wouldn’t say they were the best of friends; but they were brothers, bound by blood and they seemed to have developed a certain understanding of being there to aid the other if there ever was a need for it.

"Brother!" Aegon pushed opened the door and waltzed in, not bothering to knock. He'd formed quite a habit of doing this; It was a habit that Aemond found most annoying.

"I truly appreciate you knocking and awaiting my permission for you to enter" the younger boy nonchalantly spoke, not lifting his gaze from his book. Aemond was rather serious about his studies and was engrossed in penning down his thoughts about the histories of his ancestors to discuss with the maester during his next lesson.

"Our Y/N is back at court, and you are spending the evening with your nose stuck in these books instead of between her legs" Aegon plopped himself on the bed, avoiding the twisted look on Aemond's face as a reaction to his vulgarity "Tis not your face that makes you undesirable, it is your boring disposition"

Aemond heaved a sigh at his brother's subtle attempt at providing assurance that Aemond's condition did not contribute to him never being able to court someone. In all honesty, Aemond knew his appearance made him frightening, the cruel whispers and harsh rumours were not a secret to him; Yet, he did not argue with Aegon over it, he wasn’t in the mood to do so.

"Don't you have some catching up to do in your lessons of High Valyrian?" Aemond raised a brow, maintaining his stoic expression. Aegon simply scoffed in response.

"That is not the matter of importance" he added "Helaena and I had supper along with Y/N, she mentioned your disinterest in her arrival"

"That is far from the truth" it was Aemond now who scoffed "I am rather pleased to be reacquainted with her"

"And how have you made it evident?"

"Pardon?"

"How have you shown her that you are joyous to have her back at your side?" Aegon repeated "from what I've heard, you barely uttered two words at a time. If this is how you think you are going to win over a lady, I'm afraid you will die alone like-"

"Win over? I'm not trying to compete with anyone for her hand" Aemond made a face, interrupting Aegon's rant.

"That's exactly what I'm saying brother, you aren’t trying" Aegon face palmed "Do you want to be the bloke applauding with the rest of the crowds when she kisses her husband in the sept? No, exactly"

Aemond raised a brow when his brother did not even let him answer that question. The younger prince had never thought much about the prospect of marrying her because he felt it was an obvious occurrence. Aegon had taken Helaena as wife and Aemond would take Y/N. Even after the fight with Jace and Luke, he did not seem to have doubts about it; Who else would a dragon, like herself, take to husband? He had never taken any romantic interest toward her, it was simply his knowledge of what duties he would have to perform; including a marriage to the princess Y/N, who fortunately was also his close companion.

"I do not have to worry about it" Aemond once again turned toward his books, dipping his quill into the tiny glass pot of ink "though not formally announced, Y/N is going to be betrothed to me-"

"Is that why you are so negligent? Gods there is no guarantee of your betrothal to her. And we both know Y/N wishes to find a loving match, not some noble who is obligated to marry her" Aegon was disappointed that Aemond was taking this opportunity of her return to court for granted based on some baseless assumption.

"Yes I do recall her mentioning her long list of requirements if she were to wed anyone but that was when we were children" Aemond reminded with a stern tone "the reality is that we have no say in who we marry. It is a duty and I'm sure a smart lady such as herself, is not still blinded by her childish delusions"

"Then need I break you out of your delusions that have you believing that you are the only eligible candidate for her hand?" the older boy snapped "There is Cregan Stark, Willem Blackwood, Dalton Greyjoy. should I go on?"

"Why does it bother you so?" Aemond was a touch annoyed at the mention of other lords who Aegon had claimed to have an equal chance at wedding Y/N "what if I do not care if I wed her or not"

Lies. Aemond did not understand why he was aggravated by the thought of someone else taking Y/N as wife, but nonetheless, he was clenching his jaw with annoyance.

"You do not fool me" Aegon chuckled "You may have even managed to trick yourself into thinking that you no not care for Y/N but I can see, clear as day, that you fancy her"

"Fuck off" Aemond unintentionally pressed the quill rather harshly against the parchment, causing it to snap and leave an ugly inkblot "look what you just did!"

"Me?" Aegon cried out defensivly "the quill is in your hand you twat!"

"Get out" Aemond snapped. He was rather particular about his notes and did not like even a hint of untidinesses within the pages of his book.

"Gladly, you aren’t exactly a joy to talk to anyway" Aegon childishly stuck out his tongue and Aemond reacted to it by ripping out the page with the inkblot, crumpling it and throwing it straight at his older brother "Oh and if you’re done sulking at the sincerity of my words, be a good friend and meet Y/N in the library like you promised"

Aemond tilted his head in confusion.

"I never promised her anything"

"Well I did, on your behalf" Aegon beamed proudly "oh don’t give me that look. You are going to that library and spending the evening with her"

Aemond rolled his eye. He shut his book, rather aggressively before he rose from his chair and Aegon too immediately stood up.

"Out" Aemond once again commanded.

"Out" Aegon mimicked him and quickly rushed out the door before Aemond could throw something else at him; and by the look Aemond gave him, it most certainly wouldn’t be something as light as a crumpled ball of paper.

Aemond was surprised to find the library rather dimply lit as opposed to how bright it used to be around this hour. Furthermore, it was quiet, except for the sound of the fire crackling in the fireplace and the distant sound of light footsteps.

Aemond cleared his throat before he walked past some shelves, in hopes of finding where Y/N might be. He wanted to call out her name, or perhaps in this case, address her formally by her title since they were in the presence of others as well but he did not act on it. He did not want to disturb any of the other maesters who were reading though he was a bit unsure as to why they did not light all the candles in the room and instead left the place looking borderline dark.

"Aemond"

The boy turned toward the direction from which the voice came and saw Y/N's head peaking out from behind one of the many and large shelves. Aemond held his hands behind his back as he took took long strides toward her.

"How nice of you to agree to see me princess" He gave her a curt nod "I take it Aegon told you?"

"I know you did not ask for me to come see you here at this hour and that it was Aegon who set this up" the girl chuckled and Aemond gazed at her inquisitively "From what I've gathered through your letters you'd written to me all these years, you do not like visiting the library after supper since it is the time most of the maesters are found here, reading some old scrolls"

Aemond grinned at her sharpness and he felt a warm feeling in his chest at the thought of her remembering such a small detail about him that he had maybe mention barely once or twice ages ago.

"Speaking of, the library does seem rather vacant" He mentioned. It was quiet and if there were any maesters present, they most certainly did not shush the princess and the loudness of her voice.

"Because it is" she smiled up at him "I know you like reading in the library only when it is empty. So, I requested for the maesters to leave the library to myself for the evening. I am sure you will hear them muttering swears directed at me on the morrow"

Like hell they will, Aemond thought. He was rather protective of her and it was no secret that the prince did not tolerate any ill words against the princess. The whispers surrounding himself he could withstand but a word against his childhood friend and he would immediately snap.

"So, you wish to read?" he asked and Y/N almost giggled at how uptight and awkward he seemed.

"If we aren’t going to talk, I suppose reading is what we could settle for instead" she turned around to reach up and grab one of the books from the shelves, a book she was eyeing only moments before she caught sight of Aemond.

The prince walked closer and tried to help grab the book for her instead, failing to foresee the position in which he would entrap her. As he stretched him arm toward the high shelf, he leaned forward and his body pressed up against Y/N's back, his fingers gently grazing her's before her hand dropped. She turned slightly and the tip of her nose brushed against his jaw. Aemond suddenly was aware of how close they both were and he just froze, his one arm, still outstretched and now gripping at the wooden shelf-board.

"You've barely spoken to me the whole time I've been here" Y/N blurted out, her voice almost a whisper "what's changed?"

"So much" Aemond replied with a slight nod of his head, still quite unable to move.

Y/N scoffed at him when he once again responded to her with a vague choice and limited amount of words.

"I won't be here at the keep forever, Aemond" she looked up at him, not fully turning around; not at all caring that their bodies were still pressed together "all those instances of you writing to me that you miss me, it means nothing when you make it so obvious that you never did. I do not want you writing to me all over again about how you long for my company at court when you make no effort to converse while I am here. Do not complain to me later when you find out you missed your chance"

"Missed my chance?" Aemond asked.

"Once I am betrothed, you can’t-"

"We are to be betrothed" the prince stated as a matter-of-factly.

"When was this decided?" the girl scoffed again as she looked up at him in utter confusion "you have never asked for permission to court me let alone asking for my hand"

"I did not have to ask" he responded in the same tone as before "It is common knowledge that I would take you as my wife"

"Did you just assume we would be wed indefinitely? Did it never occur to you that our families are not the closest" Y/N snapped at him "and furthermore did you think I would agree to wed someone who doesn’t seem to want to so much as talk to his betrothed?"

"You would marry someone based on the number of words they speak to you instead of the happy life they would give you? Perhaps you ought to marry a parrot then" Aemond rolled his eye, trying his best to not sound rude but he knew he sounded nothing too nice when he said that "forgive me, I did not intend to offend but you must know that marriage is a duty-"

"Oh so you would marry me solely out of duty" Y/N chuckled mockingly. She most certainly did not like the way Aemond was describing his reasoning behind a possible marriage to her "let me save you the trouble. I do not want to marry a man who thinks he's merely fulfilling some obligation by taking me as his wife. There, now you need not be so cold toward me. I formally free you from your 'duty' of having to wed me, if that was ever even discussed in secret and kept from me"

And with that, Y/N pushed him away and stormed out. She did not hate the notion of marrying Aemond, he was of course her closest friend when they were little. And over the years, she thought they were still close since they wrote to each other a lot. But now that Aemond told her that marriage is a duty, she concluded that the only reason behind his frequent letters was only to form a marriage alliance. She wondered if Rhaenyra and her kepa were aware of this supposed notion of the both of them being betrothed, though she mildly doubted it given the tension between both their families. Yet, if it was something discussed, maybe to form some sort of peace between both parties, she would be very upset that no one bothered telling her.

Meanwhile Aemond grunted in annoyance and slammed his fist down on the wooden surface. He did not mean to sound so rude. He did miss her and did want to talk to her like how they used to as kids but over the years he had turned into this rather closed-off person who never spoke too much and when he did, his tone was always icy and sharp. He also regretted bringing up the topic of marriage since he knew it was never officially discussed and it was solely based on his assumptions.

Heaving a long sigh, he retreated to his own chambers. He wanted to go after Y/N and apologies but he knew he would only mess things up further. So instead, he decided to resort to writing her an apology. Aemond was rather good with words when it came to penning them down instead of having to say them aloud.

He knew if he did not fix this now, he could forget ever receiving any letters from her when she would depart beck to Dragonstone.

Grabbing a new quill from the drawer at his desk, he began to write:

"Ñuha dōna Y/N..."

"My sweet Y/N..."

taglist: @ladybug0095 @sahvlren @bunny24sstuff

[gay-dorito-dust]

I had this cute idea of this happening with Aemond standing on the edge of Vhagar’s nostrils because she’s the best wingman. This isn’t necessarily a specific request but I just like to hear your thoughts about it. 😃

Okay, I love this idea! It’s adorably Aemond in my eyes. Vhagar as his wingman is just as hilarious as it is unbearably cute to have a war dragon of her stature help Aemond get his beloved.

Anyway let’s say Aemond develops a crush on you and he wants to do something that puts him a head above the rest. Unfortunately due to the lack of friends he could ask for secondary opinion from. He goes to dragon grandma Vhagar…or Alicent but mostly Vhagar.

Ngl Vhagar probably forgets most of the conversations they have due to her getting on in age and the fact that in terms of bonds between dragon and their riders, theirs ain’t Caraxes and Daemon level strong. However when she hears this grand idea of his display of love, she’s like ‘I got u tiny human.’

So Aemond would probably send you some cryptic letter saying to look out to the skies that night, which you do albeit a little confused. Only to be greeted by the behemoth Vhagar hovering just in front of your balcony; nearly scaring you shitless whilst Aemond looking all cute and smug from his position on the edge of Vhagar’s nose. Spouting about how beautiful the night is but pales in comparison to you, buttering you up so he can steal a smooch.

[swamplevel]

What happened to you on that poll post

SWAMPLEVEL OFFICIAL READING ORDER TO UNDERSTAND ALL POSTS

Dark Souls -> Dark Souls 2 -> Demon Souls -> Moby Dick -> Crime and Punishment -> Marcus Aurelius' Meditations -> Meditations on the Heart Sutra -> Dark Souls 3 -> Book of the Five Rings chapter 1-4 -> Fate Extra -> Fate Extra CCC -> Start a NG+ of Fate Extra CCC but don't play it past the opening BB scene -> Book of the Five Rings chapter 5 -> Fate Samurai Remnant ALL ENDINGS -> Sekiro but you need to develop a interior, confusing sexual reaction to the Shura ending -> Black Souls -> Black Souls 2 -> Armored Core 4 For Answer (Oldking ending) -> Project Wingman -> Full Metal Daemon Muramasa

after that you can report back in and I will kiss you tenderly on the head and ask you to behead me with a sword in a moonlit glade

[kerbyfullyloaded]

WIP Wednesday

Sometimes, Mav had to stop and look around just recognize that yes, this was his life now. He and Ice had been transferred to the Nimitz after their shore duty ended, along with Slider and the rest of their squadron. Lemoore itself—well, the assignment had been boring. He always found shore duty boring. But getting to spend all that time with Ice? Absolutely amazing. He and Ice weren’t stupid enough to spend every night together, or even every other night. No, they had to be more discrete than that. But even getting to sleep beside him two or even three nights each week was a gift, and Mav felt like the grayscale of his life was fading away, just a bit, with each night he got to spend touching Ice and each morning he got to wake up entwined with him, well-rested after a night free of nightmares. He didn’t like to think of those other nights, when he and Alleta would shake awake, flashes of cold water and green dye burned into their senses, flashes of gold dust dancing behind their eyes. (He also didn’t like to think about that Fourth of July celebration they had attended on base, along with Ice and Slider and their daemons. One moment he had been contemplating grabbing another hot dog before the fireworks began, and the next he had been falling through the sky, staring at the space around the cockpit where he seen the last traces of Larissa, that beautiful and terrible golden dust floating away through the air, dissolving into nothing like she had never existed. The next thing he had been aware of had been Ice and Slider’s urgent whispers as they carried his back to his house, slung over Slider’s back in a fireman’s carry as Ice had carried Alleta, who he had wrapped up in a tablecloth they must have taken from the picnic tables. Sophos was flying overhead, the light of the fireworks reflecting off her feathers. He had to look away from her before he got dragged down to the ocean again. That was the closest Ice had ever seemed to crying around him; his jaw was clenched so tightly it must have been painful, and his eyes were shining in the dim light. Mav never wanted to see his wingman like that again.)

But now they were on a carrier, bunking with Ice and Sophos and Slider and Bernadine. His new RIO, a kid named Toaster (he was still trying to get the story behind that) was bunking with them as well, along with his calico daemon Myla. Poor Toaster was completely awe-struck to be around them, stumbling his way through any conversations they tried to have with him. Mav could see that he was normal—relatively—in his interactions with other sailors and pilots, so he wasn’t sure how to get him to relax around them. “Classic hero-worship,” his CO hummed to him during lunch one day, watching Toaster and Myla walk away after Mav had tried to wave him over. The poor RIO had dropped his tray in surprise and was now going to get more food, much to the amusement of the other officers in the mess. “Well, it’s getting old in the cockpit, sir,” Mav shot back to Warlock, exasperated. “Kid’s good, I’ll give him that, but you try to engage him in any conversation other than what the radar is showing and he falls apart. Alleta and I reenacted Ghostbusters with each other on our last patrol just to stay entertained.” At Warlock's look he shrugged. "What? Bradley loves that movie." Warlock just hung his head.

[greenbloods]

🔥 harrenhal play

im assuming this refers to my earlier post about play adaptations of asoiaf, specifically what one taking place in harrenhal might look like?

harrenhal is the convergence point of westeros; king's landing may be larger, and oldtown older, and winterfell may loom larger for the storyline of the starks, but history has a way of coming back to harrenhal. harrenhal/the godseye was where the pact of the first men and the children of the forest was made. it's where black harren and his sons were roasted alive, placing the castle under a blood curse from which it's never recovered (if you believe in blood curses, which i do). it's where maegor slew aegon the uncrowned, and where aemond and daemon danced with dragons. it's where the tourney of harrenhal happened where all the key players of robert's rebellion met together and jaime was knighted and rhaegar crowned lyanna his queen of love and beauty and ned danced with ashara and the knight of the laughing tree and--

harrenhal's important. thematically it's the gothic castle haunted by ghosts and the sins of the past, feudalism in a nutshell. so the story has to have these themes at least in the background. confining ourselves to the main series timeline, the best time to focus on these themes is probably 1) the occupation under roose bolton (arya, ghost of harrenhal, etc.) or the occupation under vargo hoat (jaime and brienne's captivity), and the best genre is probably going to be black comedy or tragedy, or maybe a musical. tragedy is too obvious, so let's go with black comedy.

probably a black comedy romance revolving around a love story between a bolton soldier and a scullery maid as they attempt to stay alive during the occupation and shifting political alliances, all the while being haunted by ghosts that roam the castle. one ghost tries to wingman each of them while arranging trysts in the godswood. the story ends when the soldier reveals sorrowfully that theyre actually a faceless man, and the maid reveals theyre a faceless man too.

[writingsofwesteros]

Sonja and Daemon being platonic!besties/soulmates would Be adorable. Wingmanning each other, hyping each other up...

Idk why this came to My head but It did

so true !!! Sonja trying to make him see sense and settle down

[presidenthades]

What was Daemon and Alicent's marital bed like? In this universe, does she get a husband who cares about her pleasure?

I think this Ask and a few others are all related to the “Daemon marries Alicent and is the Targbros’ dad/wingman” AU I’ve been brainstorming/joking about, so I’ll just consolidate the other questions here.

What tips did Alicent, Daemon, Otto give Aegon to win over Jace?

If their plans work out, what kind of in-laws will Daemon and Alicent be?

Marital bed: It definitely helps that Daemon is healthy and fit (especially compared to Viserys), and Episode 1 Alicent seems attracted to him on a surface-level at least. Daemon tries his best to torment his father-in-law Otto; ensuring that Otto knows that Alicent enjoys sex with Daemon is probably one way to accomplish that.

Wingman tips: Alicent and Otto tell Aegon he needs to appear respectable if he wants a chance at wooing Jace. Daemon tells Aegon all the ways to very sneakily seduce a princess. Aegon somehow successfully follows both schools of advice.

In-laws: Alicent has every reason to want to get along with her daughter(s)-in-law in this universe, so she would be cordial. I can’t imagine Daemon becoming super close to the girls. He’d be very triumphant about managing to marry all his sons to them, which unfortunately gives him something in common with Otto.

[factorydefaultlu]

In a world where things didn’t go to shit and everyone gets along, I could totally see Daemon being a hype-man/wingman for Aemond. Aemond being really insecure about his looks but really liking this one person and Daemon is just like “We, Targaryens, are beautiful. You are beautiful. They’re going to love you. They won’t be able to resist you and your dashing eyepatch! And if they do, they’re dumb and you deserve better.” and Daemon is in the corner giving Aemond the thumbs up as he talks with his love interest.

Yas uncle-nephew bonding we love to see it!

[ao3feed-tododeku]

Touch

Touch by Speechless since 1998

In a world where souls walk beside people, it's hard to hide your feelings. Especially when your dæmon cuddles with your crush.

Shouto blanched, looking like he was about to freeze everyone and run away.

He didn't, saving Aizawa a lot of headaches.

His dæmon beautifully ignored the boy's mood to continue purring against Midoriya's leg, like a damned cat and not an Arctic fox.

She was enjoying the touch, hungry for tact like Shouto but less willing to go without it, especially now that there was such an excellent heat distributor.

Words: 546, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Ashido Mina, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki, Original Daemon Character(s)

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemons, Consensual Daemon Touching, Platonic Daemon Touching, Cute, Idiots in Love, Todoroki Shouto is Bad at Feelings, Cute Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku is a Ray of Sunshine, Boys In Love, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Ashido Mina is a Good Friend, Wingman Ashido Mina, Shipping, Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45750775

[anamazingangie]

An Investigative Mission | Rhaenyra x Daemon

📷 Rated E 📷 6,856 words 📷 by AmazingAngie 📷

Tags: Modern Westeros, Divorced Daemon, Dad Daemon, past Daemon Targaryen/Laena Velaryon, Wingman Laenor, Sexting, parasocial relationships, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sex Work, Online Romance, Domestic Kink, Breasts, Reformed Manwhore Daemon, Simp Daemon, Fluff and Humor, No Angst, Healthy Relationships

Summary:

It started innocently enough, several minutes of her cleaning the kitchen with her face out of frame. But that was fine, because she had on these little shorts that were just… And then she took them off and hopped up on the countertop. Fingers dipped beneath the cotton panties, and he listened to her little gasps and moans as she writhed against her fingers until she came. That was when he realized he was done for. He knew what she looked like, and sounded like, but knowing what she sounded like when she came? Fuck. He was obsessed. It was truly embarrassing how she had consumed him without even knowing he existed.

Daemon was no stranger to self-reflection. He’d like to claim that the concept of examining and analyzing  his innermost thoughts was something that came naturally to him without outside influence. But truthfully, he had learned the importance of it while sitting on a leather couch and paying several hundred dollars an hour to a therapist. 

And even that was a position he only found himself in at the behest of his former wife and current friend, Laena. She was a wonderful woman capable of extreme compassion, but she showed little of it when she told him, “We aren’t going to let our parents fuck ups  fuck up our kids, too.” 

Even the dumbass that was his twenty-three year old self could admit she had a point. So to therapy he went. He’d gone again for marriage counseling. And then again after that, because apparently the divorce—as cordial as it was, fucked him up. 

Anyway, somewhere between those hundreds of hours spent trapped in a room and under the gaze of someone far more enlightened than him, he learned about self-reflection. He learned about himself, his feelings toward himself, how those feelings motivated actions, and perhaps most importantly—how those actions impacted others. 

He’d been discharged by his therapist years ago, the woman telling him with a smile that he wasn’t fixed because no one could truly be fixed. But he had all the mental tools he needed to continue repairing himself without her. 

Part of the outcome of all of this was the frequent musing of what his past self might think of his now, and the current actions or decisions he made. 

Usually he could only speculate with the understanding that he had changed. He couldn’t put himself back in a headspace from a previous time, he could only guess based on what he remembered of himself from however many years ago. 

But right now? He could say with a great deal of confidence that his past self from the ages of, oh, twelve to forty, would be fucking laughing at him. 

Or, more specifically, laughing at what he was masturbating to. 

Why wouldn’t they? It was absurd. He couldn’t believe this was his life. His obsession.

But it was. And he only had himself to blame. Well, he blamed Laenor a little. After all, it had started with a card he gave Daemon. And the supposed “gift” that went along with it.

.

A few weeks earlier…

.

GROWING OLD IS HARD AND AGING AIN’T SWANKY BUT GOOD NEWS…

The card declared on the front. With a sigh, Daemon opened it. 

GROWING HARD IS FUN! AND MASTURBATION NEVER GOES OUT OF STYLE! SO TIME FOR A WANKY! Happy 42nd Birthday! 

Daemon was not amused. With a sigh he peeled the gift card emblazoned with the OnlyExceptionalists  logo away from the back of the cardstock, flipping it over to see it was made out for $1000. Laenor had also helpfully noted that it was nonrefundable. Awesome.

Daemon wasn’t sure what the typical fee to follow a user was on the platform, but he was pretty sure a thousand dollars was beyond the norm. A cursory google search also showed that they did not even sell gift cards which meant Laenor had somehow contacted them with this request and likely paid even more money to make it a reality.

The fucker had probably used his credentials as Talent Director of RedKeep, the largest producer and distributor of adult content on the internet, to get this. It was a job Laenor only had thanks to Daemon, by the way, who was one of the three original founders and had served as the biggest investor and financial advisor for over a decade. 

He was proud of his time there, how he helped grow the business. But it had eventually been his time to go. It wasn’t his passion and it was going to be fine without him, and it had been. The Strong brothers were smart and far more innovative than him, excelling at chasing trends and integrating them into the company's offerings. 

Plus, though his twenty-year-old self would have gaped at such a statement, he could honestly say he was kind of over porn. He’d explored every category pretty thoroughly, moving on from one kink to another as his tastes shifted. He’d been on sets before, and been to award shows—often taking stars home with him  and experiencing the ‘goods’ in person. He’d even filmed a few scenes himself, though they had been for personal use rather than any website.

It was just all so predictable now. Even amaetur stuff seemed so convoluted these days, setups becoming so good and cheap that any grittiness or voyeuristic quality was lost. Porn just in general had lost its luster for him. Which was fine, more than fine, even. It had motivated him to move on and that was perhaps the best decision he ever made.

He’d focused on his marriage, his kids, and photography—the thing he went to college for before getting caught up in everything. They had been all over the Seven Kingdoms as a family, both for his work and for fun. They traveled dinky cars up steep mountains, by foot through rainforests, and by plane with Laena sitting in the pilot's seat. They had gone snorkeling, sailing, skiing, and everything in between. He wouldn’t change a thing about that time of his life. 

But that time had passed. His marriage to Laena had ended. His daughters were in college. 

And he was…

Well, he was alone on his forty-second birthday. 

He needed a drink. 

.

L: dude, did you get my card?

.

D: Yes. 

.

L: did you sign up? what do you think?

.

D: You’re joking, right? They are our competitor. 

.

L:  think about it as a investigative mission

L: have a report on my desk by monday morning 

.

D: No.

.

L:  :(

L: your dick might fall off if you go too long without jerking it 

.

D: Why are you thinking about my dick?

.

L: it’s a good dick!

L: it doesn't deserve this 

L: if you won’t do it for me, do it for your dicks sake, man.

.

Daemon downloaded the app. 

It was pure curiosity that drove him to do it. He wasn’t approaching it in an investigative manner, exactly, but he’d been out of the game for a while—surely it was normal to wonder what people were gravitating towards now? He was still a major investor in RedKeep, who may very well acquire OnlyExceptionalists in the future. It would be good to be… up on things, and it would make Laenor happy, which, much to his chagrin, mattered to him.

Laenor, annoying as he was, had been in his life for…god, over twenty years. He’d been his brother in law for more than a decade, and a great uncle to the girls, but more than that he’d been a great friend. Especially through the divorce and the aftermath. Daemon didn’t think there was a more amicable divorce to ever exist, but it still sucked putting that relationship and life with someone he loved behind him.

He’d handled it well, he thought. At least in front of their daughters and friends. 

He’d chased away the loneliness with girls and alcohol, though. Rarely spending a night in his own bed for the first few months  that followed their split. Laenor had encouraged this behavior, and helped him rein it in and get back on track in terms of work and life. The happy compromise was joining a club he recommended, where drinks were limited but came with blow jobs, and back rooms were free for any tested clients to use. 

That was a couple years ago though. His membership had long since lapsed—it turned out you could run out of kinks to explore, at least the ones on his limits list. Since then sex had been occasional at best, coming in the form of pretty girls he charmed at bars. Dates had been nearly nonexistent, though Laenor had tried to set some of those up too. 

If he was honest, dating sort of scared him. Sex? Easy. Flirting? Easy. Small talk? Kill me.

So maybe this, sad as it was, was a good option for him. An exploration into something new, or at least—something new to masturbate to. 

.

He wasn’t sure how their algorithm worked, but it was a little creepy how attracted he was to the third account they suggested. The name was PeekingPrincess and the profile picture was a set of truly fantastic breasts, cleavage on display but nipples hidden by thin cotton. 

Daemon had been asked the question of whether he was a ‘breast or ass type of guy’ a lot while he was in the industry, because surprise surprise, a lot of execs think they can be gross when a business deals with sexual content. He would usually respond with, “Both” and try to hurry along the topic. 

It wasn’t a disingenuous answer. Both were good. He liked every part of women, a lot, so much so that love for their form had been responsible for most of the things he loved about his life now, too. 

But breasts were just special. 

When they were on the smaller side, he wanted to squeeze them and test the firmness before dragging his fingers to the tips. And when they were larger, there was nothing better than holding the weight of those precious globes in his palms. They were just so different to the chest of a man, so wholly feminine, so beautiful. 

This girls were large and sat high on her chest in a way that spoke to her youth opposed to the intervention of a surgeon. No, they had to be natural, she was just blessed, and he was blessed to see this much of them, fuck. They looked so soft, and like they would bounce beautifully. She probably had videos, right? He would have spent every fucking cent on that gift certificate right then to see them bounce. 

He wasn’t sure what the norm was for these profiles, but his eyes scanned hers eagerly. 

Thanks for peeking in, it’s a pleasure to have you here. You can call me Princess. Twenty years old, the tits and tresses are both natural, I swear! If you sign up you can see more of them and watch me do all sorts of things! 

Some examples:

Laundy

Cooking

Dishes

Reading

Studying 

Cleaning

They don’t sound like very much fun, do they? That’s why I like to dress up in pretty things while I’m at it. Sometimes I get so worked up in the process I have to stop and get myself off.

3+ videos a week, daily panty pics, no full nudity, messaging at my discretion. 

He blinked. Her services were… watching her do chores while clothed? Wasn’t this for porn or was he more out of touch than he thought? A quick google search confirmed that most users made adult content, but it was not required to have a presence on the platform. 

Fuck, he had to be drawn to one of the rare exceptions that didn’t actually get naked, didn’t he? He was going to kill Laenor. All he’d gifted him was a set of fucking blue balls. 

He scrolled back up to the header picture on profile. God, those were exceptional tits.  And fifty bucks a month was nothing in the grand scheme of things, at least to him. 

He entered the payment info and clicked subscribe. The second he did, the phone started vibrating, his daughter's name coming across the top of the screen and he swore. He hadn’t even done anything but he felt like he had gotten caught with his pants down. It was amazing, the timing kids had when it came to interrupting their parents sex lives. Not that this was, well... It didn’t matter what it was. 

“Hi Baela,” He said, smiling when her chipper voice responded, “Hi dad! Happy birthday!” 

It had been a while since they talked, it was nice to catch up. A far better birthday activity than whatever his ex-brother in law tried to bully him into. 

Speaking of bullies, though, his daughter was a fucking tattle tale. She had somehow used her teenage powers to text her mom while they were talking, because five minutes after he hung up, Laena was waltzing into his apartment. 

“It’s pathetic to spend your birthday alone.” She said, “Take a shower and then we’re getting something to eat.” 

Sigh. “I want my key back. You’re lucky you didn’t walk in on anything.” 

She snorted, “Like what? I reformed you from your manwhore phase.” 

He glared, “It wasn’t a phase, it was a lifestyle.”

“It was sad. You were so desperate to escape it you married me after like, two months of dating.” 

“And then you broke my heart by divorcing me.” He said, mournful. 

It was her turn to glare, “That’s bullshit and you know it. Shower. Now.” 

“You can’t boss me around anymore, you’re not my real wife.” 

He did shower though, but it was because he wanted to, not because she told him to. 

.

When Daemon married Laena he had felt like every event in his life had led to that moment. 

In some ways, she was his first love, but in others he felt like he fell a little bit in love with everyone.

He’d had a fascination with the human body for as long as he could remember. Not even in a sexual way, just an interest in the forms people had, and the differences between them. He could remember sitting on the beach as a kid and just… watching.

It just seemed  inconceivable to him that everyone around him was part of the same singular species. When you looked at the color variations between say, pigeons, or grizzly bears, they were such a defined thing with a specific range and predictable amount of variation. But people were so different and it was so cool. 

He’d been maybe nine years old when he shared this with his foster parents and the three other foster kids who lived there. They gave him a tired smile and a bored, “That’s nice sweetie.”  Before setting down a peanut butter sandwich in front of him, a common dinner in that household. 

He wondered now, if his parents hadn’t died, he would have ended up as an anthropologist or something along those lines. But with no one to encourage his interest in the more scientific side of things, and puberty creeping up on him, the interest did eventually veer towards sexual. 

Playboy magazines had been his bible at that age. Bridging the gap between his interest in girls and their interest in him. But once that gap had closed, he was happy to spend more time with a naked girl than looking at pictures of ones (but those pictures were still good too). 

Stealing magazines was easy enough, but he wasn’t brave enough to do more than look at the covers of the VHS tapes that held pornographic contents within. Though one of his friends had taken the risk while his parents were out and given him a play by play. 

It wasn’t like he was deprived though, he was having plenty sex of his own. Like, perhaps too much. He was kind of a slut, honestly. The fascination with form had continued, and he liked the varied experiences sleeping around offered. He liked learning the weight of different girls' breasts, the differences in how they tasted, in how they felt wrapped around his dick. 

And then he got curious about guys, and learned how they tasted and felt too... 

His friends joked that by the time he got to college, there wasn’t a bed frame big enough for all his notches. And he couldn’t really argue with them. And he didn’t really slow down, either. 

In college he was, to some peoples amusement—given that he had never owned a camera before, a photography major. If someone asked why, he would give the heartbreaking answer of, 

“ My mom died when I was really young and I never had many pictures of her. But it taught me how much a photo can mean to a person.” 

It wasn’t a lie but he would admit later that it was because he wanted to be the person taking photos of naked chicks for Playboys. Those images—seeing a girl's curves for the first time, they had impacted him more than almost anything in his youth. 

And yet, by his second year he despised  photographing models and having to communicate with so many different people in the process. He liked people. He liked being in charge of people. He didn’t like collaborating with people. 

“Is there any photography job like that?” He’d asked his teacher, a bit desperate. The man thought for a moment, before asking, “How do you feel about heights?”

And so, he began researching  aerial photography. 

And Laena was a licensed pilot. 

.

He knew Laena already, sort of, in that she was Laenor’s sister, and Laenor knew everybody.

When they were introduced for the first time, Daemon told her she was almost as pretty as her brother, a comment that earned him a breathtaking smile. He told her later that night, when they were in bed together, that she was way prettier than her brother. 

It was true. 

He kept the fact that she was also way better at giving blowjobs to himself, though. 

But it was true, too. 

In the months that followed his whole life changed—he found out about his inheritance, and sunk half of it into his fraternity brother's idea for RedKeep. He dropped out of college. He bought a shitty apartment, and a big diamond for Laena who wanted to marry him despite everything. 

She was a constant in his life for years. As RedKeep took off. As did his career outside of it. As did hers. As she gave birth to the two girls. As she cried over the third one they would never get to meet. 

Even the bad moments were better when they were together, until they weren’t. 

.

It was a rare evening where they were both home and also alone with each other. The girl’s were at a sleepover and he’d been working somewhat lazily on his computer while the TV blared in the background. He was aware enough to hear Laena approach, and he looked up when he saw her set two pints of ice cream on the coffee table in front of him. 

They didn’t drink when they were on parental duty in case there was an emergency and they had to drive, so ice cream had replaced scotch in their serious conversations. She settled on the floor opposite him and opened the containers, shoving one in his direction along with a spoon while saving the other for herself.

And then she said, “I want a divorce.” 

He swallowed. 

“We are more like siblings now than husband and wife.” She said, and he bristled—she noticed this, and glared at him, “Don’t give me that shit about your families ‘queer traditions’, it's gross.” 

“We’ve had a good fifteen years, Daemon. But if we stay together we won’t have another good fifteen years and you know it.” Fuck, he couldn’t really argue with that. 

It had been a good fifteen years. Better than that. But now she wanted a reliable schedule. A big place with a big yard in the suburbs but close to an airport. She wanted a giant dog. She wanted to settle in the way they never really had. And she wanted to do it with someone who wanted those things too. 

And she deserved that. And maybe he did too, though fuck knows where he would find it. 

When he said as much between bites of ice cream, Laena had sighed sympathetically, “It’s a pity you’re an only child, huh?” 

.

“Thank you for tonight,” He said, and he meant it.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss your birthday, who knows how many you have left.” She said sincerely. 

“I’ll see you in two months when we are once again the same age.” 

She grinned, “You better be.” 

He would be. Because they didn’t need to be married to be there for each other. 

As he unlocked his door he realized he never got back his key. Sneaky bitch.

He set his ringtone to silent before revisiting the app. His home page was now consumed by content from the girl that called herself ‘Princess’ and he was not complaining. Though she was true to her promise of no nudity, it was hardly the wholesome content her list of tasks suggested. Before watching the streams, he scrolled through her photos—dozens of pictures of her lifting skirts to reveal pretty underwear beneath. 

In some of them, she had nothing else on—it was just cropped to keep her breasts out of frame. But somehow the ones where she was holding clothing out of the way were even hotter? Like the ones captioned “lazy day!” where she wore nothing but an oversized shirt that was hiked up to show the pale pink panties beneath.

But god, the pictures of her in bras. He couldn’t comprehend the size of her lingerie collection, because she rarely seemed to rewear a piece. All the more impressive because he knew from Laena’s complaints that bras that size were neither easy to find nor cheap. But this girl, she was committed to the cause, clearly, and he was happy to donate to it with his subscription. 

She never showed her bare nipples, but he could see the shadow of them beneath pale lace that cupped her breasts like a layer of second skin. Some photos were zoomed in, almost artistic. Others were selfies in bathrooms, paired with laughing emojis saying she hoped she didn’t get caught. 

There were sports bras, and practical ones out of cotton, but she seemed to favor silk and lace. Romantic pieces, but in dark colors that stood out on the pale backdrop of her skin. The few full body photos she had included these, sets complete with garter belts and stockings and god she was fucking perfect. He wanted to stroke every inch of her. Press kisses to the dip of her waist and swell of her hip. And how was he hard at the mere thought of that? God there were more explicit images in a victoria’s secret catalog for fucks sake. He hadn’t been turned on by those when he was fourteen and desperate, and now he was forty! 

His breath caught in his throat when he saw her face. It was cut off in all the racy images, which probably made sense for her protection. But it was just as gorgeous as the rest of her. He didn’t think she had makeup on and she looked so young he felt a little bit sick that he was so attracted to her, but she was so, so,  pretty. 

It suddenly made sense to him, why this was the ‘future of adult content.’ Not that that was really what this girl’s content was. But even so, a girl like her wouldn’t come within ten miles of a porn studio. She wouldn’t even go to a casting call for a racy part in a film. He knew that, from the time he’d worked in the industry—the thousands of headshots he’d seen, and the hundreds of hours of content he had watched. 

He’d never seen anyone comparable to her. Girl’s that looked like her didn’t get dicked down on camera. 

Her hair was naturally a platinum shade—he knew that right away, for it matched his own and when it was bleached it was never quite right. Never as light, always a little orangey, roots always showing even with weekly touch ups. But hers was perfect, shiny, falling around her shoulders with the ends cut out of frame. 

Her lips looked so soft, a rich pink as if she bit them often. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and round but outlined by a delicate bone structure and defined jaw. Her eyes were large, and a vibrant purple he could get fucking lost in. He wanted to kiss her. When did he last want to kiss someone? 

Okay, that was enough of her photos. He couldn’t take more of this. He switched to the video tab of her profile, and— fuck. 

If he thought photos of her in skimpy things were uh, hard to look at, seeing her in motion was. Well, he didn’t know how to explain it. He didn’t understand how it was this hot? She was just wandering around her kitchen, wiping down counters before pulling out things from the fridge and cabinets. 

He watched her make pancakes, his eyes glued to the screen in interest for all thirteen minutes. When they were plated, she bent over—showing off a glorious amount of cleavage, before kneeling so her face was in frame. She took a single bite, swallowing it before catching a drip of syrup with her finger and licking it clean. 

Oh, what he would give to be a drop of syrup. 

The video ended. 

He couldn’t remember ever being this hard in his entire life. But he was not masturbating to…whatever this was. He wasn’t. He would have a cold shower, maybe go for a run. That would fix it. 

After two minutes in the freezing spray of his shower his dick was still stubbornly hard, which was impressive, really. With a sigh he turned the temperature up and gave in. He was prepared for a lackluster orgasm, given the lack of lube, lack of content before him, and the fact he only had his palm to offer stimulation. 

And yet, when he closed his eyes and thought of her…

He hadn’t come that hard in years. 

Fuck.

.

It had been a week and he had already  watched all 53 videos he had access to. 

They all ranged from about ten to thirty minutes long, and as promised, included all the tasks she had mentioned and more. One of his favorites had been watching her curl her hair, camera set up behind her while she used heated tongs to make perfect platinum coils. The camera was far enough away that you could see her tits in the mirror and the cheeks of her ass at the same time, and the whole time she was humming along to some pop song in the background. 

When he came, he had imagined he was fucking her over the bathroom counter, and she was complaining that he’d mess up her hair, but then she was moaning too much to say anything at all. 

In another she had painted her toenails. He wasn’t into feet. He wasn’t Larys. But her toes were cute and she was cute, her nose wrinkled in concentration as she carefully applied the pink polish. 

The longest of her videos was called “a bedtime story.”  She was wearing a silk slip that wasn’t particularly revealing and leaning back against a pile of pillows. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she looked exhausted, the poor thing. 

“I’ve been studying all day, I’m reading one chapter of my book and going to bed and uh, I hope it isn’t boring?” 

It wasn’t. The way her lips wrapped around the words of the fantasy drama was so fucking sexy. He had no clue who the characters were, or what was happening, he was just besotted with her.

And then, he found one where she masturbated.

 It started innocently enough, several minutes of her cleaning the kitchen with her face out of frame. But that was fine, because she had on these little shorts that were just…

And then she took them off and hopped up on the countertop. Fingers dipped beneath the cotton panties, and he listened to her little gasps and moans as she writhed against her fingers until she came. 

She washed her hands, then put on a pair of rubber gloves and did dishes for the remaining seven minutes of the video. 

That was when he realized he was done for. He knew what she looked like, and sounded like, but knowing what she sounded like when she came? Fuck. He was obsessed. It was truly embarrassing how she had consumed him without even knowing he existed. 

He was grateful when he got called to shoot something in Dorne for a week because it was a distraction from her that he desperately needed. He still watched her videos in his hotel room, but otherwise his avoidance was going well. 

There was another shoot, this one in Vale. 

Princess posted a video of herself covered in bubbles in a bathtub, hair wrapped up in a conditioning mask of some sort. Someone in the comments asked what it was. She shared a link to where you could order it.

Daemon might have bought it. He wanted to know what she smelled like, because he was a sick fuck. The package was waiting for him when he got back, and he opened the plastic jar to take a sniff. He couldn’t describe it, but it was sweet, and bright, and warm, and just how he imagined her.

Yeah okay, he totally used it to jerk off. 

It was purely an economical use, he didn’t bother with conditioner now, not when his hair was short. And it was mostly oil anyway. It wasn’t creepy. It wasn’t. He just didn’t want it to go to waste!

(Why did he set it up for auto-ship, then? That was between him and the gods.)

He was in Essos for a month on location. 

Princess posted herself practicing High Valyrian. 

Daemon googled ‘how to download the audio of a video from OnlyExceptionalists ’ only to realize it was too high tech for him to figure it out on his own and he was not asking his daughters to help with this.

Then, Princess messaged him. 

.

P: you know, my watchtime hours have doubled this month thanks to you, tysm ^^  

.

Daemon was not prone to embarrassment. He had enough confidence and life experience that it just wasn’t an emotion he had much room left for. But the realization she could see how many hours he had spent watching her clean her apartment and sometimes masturbate? Crushing. 

.

D: I may have tried to restrain myself if I knew that statistic was available to you. But you’re most welcome. It’s been a pleasure. 

.

P: a pleasure? good. that’s the goal! 

.

D: Well, if that is the goal you’ve scored many, many, times this month. 

.

P: mmm, i wish, i haven’t scored in months </3 

Was she flirting? She could not be flirting, could she? 

D: I truly wish I could help you with that. 

.

P: in a way you do, i make these videos for me too, i get really wet knowing people are watching and get off after, but plastic cock just isn’t the same :( 

.

D: A pretty girl like you could find a real one at any pub in the Seven Kingdoms.

.

P: ur sweet <3 i’m just picky, looking for something special. 

.

D: Like what? 

.

P: i like sex and i like being spoiled but i want something serious. aka a guy with a huge heart and huge cock

.

D: What is considered huge? 

.

P: send me a picture and i’ll tell u ^^

.

D: <photo attached>

.

P: ffff yeah that would do. lmk if u r ever in the Crownlands, lol!

.

Definitely flirting. 

.

The obsession did not improve after that, not with her asking for his thoughts on her newest videos after they went live. And definitely not with him asking if she got off after, too, only to get photos of slick dildos in response instead of words. 

.

D: princess like you taking something that big inside of you??

.

P: gotta be ready for u x)

.

They talked about life, too. She was studying Valyrian History and Language—only in her first year and completely delighted by the fact he had studied it too. She would send him photos of her homework and grades and soon they were texting in the app more often then he did with anyone else. 

He didn’t realize how serious it was until he next saw Laenor. He had slapped his friend on the back before sitting down across from him at the bar table. It was rare they were both free at the same time, and he was looking forward to catching up with his friend.

They were talking about his work when Daemon mindlessly made the suggestion of keeping individual users' watchtime private from independent actors on their new site. Laenor had narrowed his eyes, as if the policy reminded him of something. It must have, because instead of responding he asked, 

“Did you ever use that gift card?” 

Daemon coughed. “Uh, yeah.”  he was playing with the wrapper of his beer on the table, like that would distract him. 

“Did you watch so much porn you got called out?” He asked.

“Fuck, no!” He said, not embarrassed by the implication but also… no. “She doesn’t even make porn.” He admitted. 

Laenor blinked at him. “What the fuck does she make?” 

That was a…valid question and Daemon wasn’t really sure how to answer it. 

“She makes videos, but she isn’t naked, she just…exists? And looks pretty?” 

Laenor gaped. “And you watched it for so many hours she figured it out?” 

Well. Sort of. But he wasn’t going to admit that outright. 

Laenor sighed, leaning back, “Man I just wanted you to loosen up a little, get your dick ready to get back in the game. But that isn’t healthy. That’s sad. I’m sorry man, I guess I should have gotten you a gift card to OKcupid instead.” 

He looked genuinely apologetic, and that made Daemon feel bad. Was it really so weird? It had felt sort of obsessive at first, but now that they were talking…she seemed to like him too. It was fun, and easy in a way the dates he’d been on weren’t. It didn’t feel unhealthy, not to him. But he didn’t think he would be able to convince Laenor of that.

.

P: fff have a test today and wicked cramps :(

.

D: What would make you feel better?

.

P: cake. chocolate cake. 

.

D: Do you have an UberEats #?

.

P: …maybe

.

He wasn’t sure where she lived, but there was a  patisserie chain he’d been fond of in the Crownlands. She had to be close-ish to a college campus, and it allowed him to send the order to the associated account, so hopefully it would work out.

.

P: omg i’m ruined. this cake. not sure any other will ever compare

P: honestly not sure any man will compare to u 

.

D: Now who is sweet? Must be all the cake in you. 

.

P: wish I had something of yours in me too

.

D: Back to your usual self!

.

P: the cake cured me, thank u doctor 

.

She asked about his job. He asked about her school. 

She asked how old he was, and he said he hoped she liked older men.

.

P: how old?

.

D: 42.

.

P: hmm may need a pic to know for sure

.

D: <picture attached>

.

.

.

.

.

D: …you there?

.

P: srry, just rode a vibe until i came  imagining it was ur face because holy FUCK 

.

D: Mm, I’d let you if I was there. 

.

P: lol you’d die, you can’t do that irl, just in porn 

.

D: Whoever told you that is a liar with poor technique. 

D: But also death from suffocating on your sweet cunt? A good way to go.

.

P: fuck i wish we could  meet irl 

.

.

.

.

.

.

It was Baela’s birthday, unfortunately smack dab in the middle of the semester. But Daemon had blocked off this time in advance, and so had Laena—they were both determined to see her on the day she turned nineteen, after all, she was their baby girl, no matter how old she got. 

Parking was a fucking disaster, Daemon brought the cake in first, leaving it on the counter while he enveloped his daughter in a hug. He didn’t have favorites between the girls, but Baela was so much like him. He didn’t just love her, he understood her so well it was hard to imagine loving anyone else more. 

“It’s good to see you, dad.” She mumbled into his chest, and he gave her shoulders a squeeze in agreement. That was an understatement.

“I hate to leave, but I want to grab your presents before your mom arrives and wants help decorating.” Baela rolled her eyes, and Daemon just shrugged—Laena’s desire to buy balloons for any occasion was no longer something he had to take any responsibility for. Perhaps one of the true benefits of divorce. 

He made the trek back to the car, his phone pinging with a text from Laena,

L: I’m here + Bae’s bestie  

Of course, her timing was inconvenient as always. He was going to get her peeved glare for being absent because he darted out for a total of five minutes. Some things didn’t change, married or naught. 

He dropped the bags on the coffee table, wandering to the kitchen where the voices were coming from. 

“What flavor is it? I had double chocolate from them a few weeks ago and it was heavenly. ” 

“I always tell dad to surprise me, it’s like an extra gift.” He smiled at his daughter's voice, coming to lean in the door frame into the apartment's small cooking area. Baela caught his eye almost immediately and smiled. 

“Speaking of my dad, dad, this is Rhaenyra—my best friend, Rhaenyra, this is Daemon, my dad.” She gestured between him and the blonde girl who was turned away from him. The girl in question spun around at the mention of a new person to meet, extending her hand politely  before looking up at him and— oh.

His first thought was, she is even prettier in person. 

His second was, fuck, please don’t let this ruin things. 

Introductions were a little awkward, but not to the point of being suspicious. He mostly tried to avoid looking at her, at least until other people arrived and his gaze would be less obvious. It seemed like a decent plan, but after an hour he couldn’t resist messaging her. 

D: I can’t believe you’re here, and that  you’re even more beautiful in person. 

He watched her from across the room while he pulled her phone out, which made him feel a little like a creepy stalker, but the feeling was mostly overwritten by how fucking nervous he was for her response. 

P: i know we just met but can i blow you in the bathroom in like 5 mins? 

P: i’m dying knowing i could have my lips on u rn

Daemon must have looked like a maniac with how wide his smile was. 

Yeah, he didn’t think this would ruin anything. 

.

.

.

.

At Baela’s wedding a few years later, Rhaenyra was at his side. She was radiant, five months pregnant and looking like a goddess of fertility in the seafoam colored bridesmaid gown. Daemon had just finished his speech, every bit a proud father as he said, 

“I don’t think  greater gift exists than being able to witness your child’s happiness. It’s been a privilege, an honor, and a joy to be your father since the moment you were born. But I’ve never felt that more strongly than today.” 

Rhaenyra was sniffing a little when he sat back down, “You’re such a good dad.” She whispered while Laena stood to begin her speech. 

He gave her a quick kiss,  and while their lips were inches apart he whispered,  “Do you know what gift is a close second?” 

She sighed, “You’re going to say my tits, aren’t you?” 

“Much like their size, my love for them grows with every day.” Nothing made him more convinced that pregnancy was a blessing more than the effect they had had on her already phenomenal breasts. 

She laughed, kissing the corner of his mouth before sitting back in her seat. 

“Just wait until I start lactating.” She said casually, taking a sip from her glass of sparkling juice. 

If he listened closely in that moment, he was pretty sure he could hear some past version of himself laughing hysterically. 

Because seriously, who gets an erection at their daughter’s wedding dinner?

Er, well, probably the same guy who got a blow job at her nineteenth birthday. 

At least he was consistent? 

But more than that, he was happy. And as he looked at her, his beautiful wife, surrounded by people he loved who had been brought together to celebrate his own daughter and her love, he  knew. This was what every moment of his life had been leading up to. 

What a fucking gift. 

Any updates to this AU will be in this collection!

This is an entry for my summer snippet event, specifically the prompt “gift”! Event details here!

Oh, in case it wasn't clear -

OnlyExceptionalists = OnlyFans

RedKeep = RedTube

You might also like my other fic in which they BOTH have OnlyFans accounts and do it on camera 

The base for the birthday card was from here: Image by Freepik

Dividers from @firefly-graphics

[ladysunamireads]

Touch

Touch by Speechless since 1998

In a world where souls walk beside people, it's hard to hide your feelings. Especially when your dæmon cuddles with your crush.

Shouto blanched, looking like he was about to freeze everyone and run away.

He didn't, saving Aizawa a lot of headaches.

His dæmon beautifully ignored the boy's mood to continue purring against Midoriya's leg, like a damned cat and not an Arctic fox.

She was enjoying the touch, hungry for tact like Shouto but less willing to go without it, especially now that there was such an excellent heat distributor.

Words: 546, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Ashido Mina, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki, Original Daemon Character(s)

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemons, Consensual Daemon Touching, Platonic Daemon Touching, Cute, Idiots in Love, Todoroki Shouto is Bad at Feelings, Cute Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku is a Ray of Sunshine, Boys In Love, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Ashido Mina is a Good Friend, Wingman Ashido Mina, Shipping, Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45750775