On Rhaenyra's wedding day, she receives a visit from her uncle Daemon.

Maybe he hasn’t changed all that much — a few more lines around the mouth, and the eyes. There's a weight to his gaze, too — one that has little to do with age and everything to do with what he's experienced. But four years for a teenage girl is a whole other life. Rhaenyra shed the girl she was at fifteen like snake skin. That girl is long gone. A ghost. — Daemon returns home from war, and Rhaenyra must grapple with the changes in him — and in herself.

Rating: Explicit Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Valyrian Magic (A Song of Ice and Fire), Past Underage, Angst and Porn, Dubious Consent, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Other Additional Tags to Be Added**, mentions of rhaenyra/other people **New tags with chapter 4: Minor Rhaenyra Targaryen/Laena Velaryon (Daughter of Corlys), Minor Mysaria | Lady Misery/Daemon Targaryen, Recreational Drug Use, Cousin Incest, Bisexual Rhaenyra Targaryen

📿 chapter 1 📿 chapter 2 📿 chapter 3 📿 chapter 4 - new! 📿

The prince traveled there now — though not to inventory the supplies, nor to pray. He paused in his purposeful stride only to nod at the guard outside the door before entering the cloistered chamber. The septa knelt before the altar, her head bowed in prayer in front of a row of guttering candles. She turned at the sound of the door, and the intrusion of the glut of daylight into the dim space. Her eyes met his briefly, before she bowed her head in deference. “Seven blessings to you, my prince.". — In which Daemon and Rhaenyra make good use of Dragonstone's sept.

Rhaenyra woke early, while the world was still shrouded in evening’s darkness, and the air was quiet, absent the chorus of birdsong. She had woken a maiden, perhaps for the last time. She gazed out the window of her bedroom in quiet contemplation until the first blush of dawn painted the sky with its pink and orange tendrils. In the distance, the Fourteen Flames expelled great gouts of white smoke, and steam rolled from the mountainsides to wreath the city in an auspicious mist. When she went to sleep that night, would it be with the seed of Zaldrīzes Āeksio in her belly?

He had scarcely seen them since he was a boy — since the scandal of their wedding. But it was immediately obvious how much they adored one other. The casual intimacy between them, the way they always found a way to touch. Aegon swore he could see the sparks wherever their skin met. His father had been a fool to ever deny them their match. It was plain to see that they were utterly besotted with each other — even after six years of marriage. He wondered, despairingly, what it must feel like, to have someone, anyone, love you best in all the world. — In which Aegon is deeply depressed, and the only remedy is the healing power of Daemyra threesome. 

97! I am scratching and clawing my way toward 100 this year.

537,646 *probably at least 400k of that is Daemyra

Almost exclusively House of the Dragon/ASOIAF since HOTD s1 aired and Daemyra consumed my life.

i got a bad desire (baby i'm on fire) - Daemyra modern AU multi-chapter (WIP)

ain't nobody hurt you like i hurt you  - Daemyra modern AU multi-chapter (complete)

better not touch (i want it too much) - Daemyra modern AU multi-chapter (complete)

I found some hate for you, just for show - Daemyra canon divergence oneshot

do you feel the hunger? - Daemyra canon divergence oneshot

I try to respond to all of them! Sometimes I get behind, but I usually get to them by the time I post a new chapter, at least.

Uhh probably i've looked at clouds from both sides now. Even though only one of the major characters dies, it somehow still feels angstier than the literal necrophilia fic where they both die.

I feel like most of my other fics have a happy ending? Both of the completed multi-chaps I linked above definitely do.

I occasionally get a rude comment, but I have no qualms about being a dick or just deleting/blocking. I have gotten a few tumblr anons that made me roll my eyes, but any hate I get has been firmly a THEM problem and not a ME problem. Haters stay pressed. 💅

It's a rare day when I do not write smut. I write all kinds. Since writing in the Daemyra fandom, my list of "hard no's" when it comes to writing has rapidly diminished; it seems like every other day I discover a new kink that makes my brain do a record-scratch. I started writing fic again in 2020, and published baby's first smut shortly thereafter, but it was fairly standard stuff. Now I'm like "well if you aren't literally digesting your lover, is it really romance??!"

The only crossover I've written is a House of the Dragon/Naked Attraction crackfic that infected my brain during the depths of binge of the latter show.

Only one that I know of - someone copy/pasted all of do you really feel alive without me into different chapters of their ""fic"".

for our blood is restless was translated into Russian here.

No. My writing process is chaotic and inconsistent and I would not inflict that on another writer. I'm also very particular about what I do and do not want to write, as well as my prose, so I don't think co-writing is for me. If we don't like to break the rules of English grammar in the exact same way, I'm afraid we won't be able to get along.

I mean, I think it's pretty obvious. 😅 Daemon Targaryen/Rhaenyra Targaryen (House of the Dragon) has only been my OTP for <2 years, but they are already my all time favorite. Prior to that, it was Dramione (Harry Potter), Cullen Rutherford/Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age: Inquisition), and Aloy/Avad (Horizon Zero Dawn).

Not technically a single WIP, but I always meant to add more stories to my collection of Cullen/Inquisitor Dragon Age fics (most of which I posted during Swoon June 2022). It's possible I'll experience another burst of inspo for that fandom when Dragon Age: Dreadwolf finally comes out, but I'm pretty firmly entrenched in Daemyra for the foreseeable future.

Dialogue, characterization, ANGST. I think my smut is pretty hot. Idk I generally like everything about my writing. That's why I keep doing it.

Uhhh anything to do with plotting or planning. We thrive on vibes here. ✌️

Beyond the occasional word or phrase in High Valyrian for my HOTD/ASOIAF fics, I cannot be bothered. Italics and a dialogue tag do me just fine.

Harry Potter.

This changes semi-regularly, but my current favorite is one that I'm actively writing - a Daemyra early marriage canon divergence (milk teeth). Also because I just re-read this the other night - surrender (a rare non-Daemyra HOTD fic).

Prompt: When Aemma gives birth to a healthy heir, Rhaenyra is very curious about breastfeeding and often lets her brother suck on her breasts without milk. It makes him quiet and her mother is relieved that Rhaenyra likes her brother. Daemon discovers what is she doing and shows her how her tits should be sucked. Rhaenyra can't wait to get pregnant and have her own milk for Daemon to suckle.

*Please read the prompt and mind the tags. I used the "Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings" tag and added more specific warnings in the Additional Tags. Sexual content will occur between Daemon and Rhaenyra when she's 15; they will not marry/consummate their marriage until she's 16 (disclaimer - my timelines are always subject to change, but this is the current plan). There will, however, be no Major Character Death or Non-Con. There will be varying degrees of consent (hence the Dubious Consent tag), and — depending on how I end up writing particular scenes — the Consensual Non-Consent tag may be added.

She knew this wasn’t proper, but it didn’t feel wrong. There was nothing perverse about it; it was merely a way to bond with her new brother. And if she did have children of her own, she would feed them herself, the customs of men and maesters be damned. What was this, if not practice? Men played at swords in the yard to practice for their wars, why should she not practice for her duties just the same?

The wharf looked entirely different in the light of day.

What the evening dark had shrouded, and adorned flatteringly with fiery gems of lamplight, was now depressingly plain. The night had softened the imperfections, obscuring flaws beneath equalizing darkness, allowing the perception of something grander, something alluring, to flourish. The brightness of the sun scrubbed the city clean of its shadows, leaving behind only its true face, devoid of any romance or intrigue, the slipshod design of a harbor sprung-up out of necessity. But if the day revealed truth, then the night revealed desire — and Daemon much preferred the revelations that came during those blackest of hours.