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#hotd mood
um-weird-flex-but-ok · 7 months
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imriel · 5 months
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Aegon, Helaena, Aemond | 1.08
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fatherforgivethem · 6 months
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“If you have any thought for me you will give me back my peace!”
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“There can be no peace for us, only misery, and the greatest happiness.”
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yandereunsolved · 3 days
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ღ Yandere Aegon II Targaryen ღ
The taste of wine was never sweeter than when you poured it into his cup. Your head always bowed, and those doeish eyes of yours were wide and cautious. It was as if you could sense the dangerous intentions of the beast you served. One wrong word, and those around you would be scorched to a crisp. Yet he was the king. What could you do?
The cupbearer of his council was a position that was coveted among those with lower status. After all, if you were serving the king and those on his council, you were almost aligned with their status. It was something that was gifted to you by the king, a title that most of the other workers in the castle believed you did not deserve.
You are an uneducated servant. You don't know the fineries of dining or how to act sophisticated within the complex courts. You cannot even spell your own name with ink and parchment paper. Your small family shrinks by the day. You are unable to pay for your aging parents and keep your younger siblings fed. Your dearest baby brother just passed the other day.
Still, the king fancies you. Many can tell by his leering glances and the oddly aggressive way in which he interacts with you. He is always leaving fleeting touches on your figure. To be wanted or unwanted doesn't matter to him. He just wants to feel your body under his hands, under him. 
You are practically untouchable within the walls of the Red Keep. A sparring glance or vaguely threatening word thrown your way will cause a charred corpse to turn up the next day. When you find the corpse, which you always seem to do, you swear to the gods, new and old, that you are able to hear Sunfyre's daunting roar. No one else's recollection seems to match yours. You fear that you are going mad.
Another cup down the dragon's gullet. This days council has adjourned, leaving only you in the room with your ruler. He is incredibly tense, despite the extensive drinking he has been doing. He is a violent drunk, always on edge. There is never a moment of weakness in his eyes, except for when his carefully crafted delusions are torn apart.
His violet irises meet yours and there is no softness within the cusp of them. One of his fingers taps impatiently on the edge of his goblet. A subtle gesture for you to refill. You nearly overfill his cup as you are trapped within his gaze. A pleased smile stretches across his slightly chapped pink lips.
"It is so comforting to know that I own something as beautiful as you. You are a treasure that will never escape my grasp, little one."
Those words horrify you. Your hands are having great trouble keeping a hold on the pitcher. Your greatest fear has been actualized. Those words have sealed your fate. For the king may do as he pleases, married or not.
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terrorofthetrident · 7 months
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happy anniversary to aemond’s sapphire eye reveal, the knife twirl, him being completely unhinged while soaked in the rain in his long black coat, with leather gloves, his pretty curls, yelling in high valyrian, smiling, laughing, and just having the best time of his life while he chased luke, and of course him going through every single emotion in the span of about four minutes
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Aemond: Vhagar, he wouldn’t give me his eye, it’s not fair 😤
Vhagar:
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eschercaine · 2 years
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I CACKLED— OH MY GOD. 🤣
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sidraofthewildflowers · 8 months
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𝐻𝑒𝓁𝒶𝑒𝓃𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇
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lukearys · 1 year
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Training with Lucerys.
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could i please request a one shot with Aemond Targaryen? I HAVE A COOL PROMPT, if u don't feel comfy i can send something else tho.
So i was thinking that the reader (she's only a few years younger than Alicent ok) started as a maid on the castle when she was very young but was cleaver enough to become Viserys lover (but that's nasty so we can say for the plot that she gets him really drunk so he falls asleep and she doesn't have to do any of that)
So everyone knows that she's the other woman because Viserys doesn't even hide it and she lives on the palace and she's always dressed with this expensive dresses and cute jewlery and Alicent doesn't really like her BUT TURNS OUT that Aemond has a huge crush on her (because he has mommy issues lol)
Maybe the whole thing is that the reader knows that Viserys is going to die any minute now and she's getting all her shit together to leave the f out before it gets bad for her, but Aemond finds her and offers to marry her so she can stay in the palace.
Long request, sorry about that lol.
Don´t feel sorry about the length, anon. I absolutely love this and will start writing right away. And please, if you have more ideas feel free to send them!
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evriikas · 3 months
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whatever it takes...
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chryseis · 2 years
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Aemond goes back to King's Landing and is like
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fatherforgivethem · 6 months
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Are you, are you, comin' to the tree? Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three. Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree…
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Are you, are you, comin' to the tree? Where the dead man called out for his love to flee. Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree…
(Thank you to @sidraofthewildflowers for plaguing me with this idea. The movie was bomb we need to see it again!)
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indigohoney08 · 2 months
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Alicent Hightower
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revedetendresse · 1 year
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Ryan Corr training for House Of The Dragon
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lullaebies · 6 months
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fever dream. (952 words, helaegon, no warnings)
summary: On a sunny day, Aegon feels like recovering. (Aegon spends a day with his family, and only finds fever dreams).
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Mundane, sunny days are the most pivotal of times.
Aegon sits on a stone bench in the Keep’s garden. This is not his most favorite of places, for the morning sun often shines too brightly on tired eyes, but he has woken early and couldn’t bear the feel of sweat and overheat the coverings bestowed. He feels feverish when the nights catch up to mornings, and the feel of fever starts to manifest.
In these sorts of days, there’s the urge to recover. It comes and goes, a fleeting dream, but when it arrives he knows what the sun bids. 
The maids surround the garden as if they are borders; he finds it rather constraining, but Helaena says it’s due with twins like theirs. 
“Just watch,” she says softly, with the calming scent of honeyed tea coming from the cup in her hands. Aegon thinks her own tranquillity lingers in the air. Tension radiates from her easily on most days, her sensitivity on her sleeve and in a manner more upsetting than one might want to admit; the days where she’s in utter peace are as odd as they are comforting.
The maids are up at arms when Jaehaerys dives headfirst into the grass. A boy of four years with a flock of mothers that rush over to him in absolute attention and fright. He looks to his unmoving wife; he wonders if she feels any envy. As uninvolved as he may be in these matters at times, he can’t say there isn’t any irk within him when Aemond or Criston have father-like moments with the children. He swallows it, but it’s an odd feeling, getting left behind for someone better.
It doesn’t seem to be the case for her. Helaena keeps herself poised at her seat, sips on her beverage and grins. When Jaehaerys lifts himself up from the dirt, face covered with some soil, he does not cry; only stands expectant, looking at his sister. 
“He likes to poke reactions out of her,” Helaena provides the information abruptly. “And he likes to attempt to make her smile, as some would say it is rather difficult to get her to.”
Jaehaera is often even-faced for a child of her age. His daughter is more dignified at four than he ever was throughout his two decades. She makes for a very poised, albeit shy princess; though not a very lively child. That is what most would say of her, at least. Aegon will admit she’s restrained in her interactions, but she smiles at him rather frequently. And what child isn’t shy of strangers? The entire court can shove that talk up their arse.
His daughter looks at her brother with the most refraining expression, lips pressed together with her cheeks pronounced. Not shy to try harder at reaching his goal, Jaehaerys fills his cheeks with air and smooshes them down, as if all the air erupted out. Didn’t I do that once? Regardless, the boy succeeds, and a grin makes an appearance on his sister.
The two children go on to play tag, their nervous maids tailing them to keep them in sight. Jaehaera is as good at disappearing as Aegon, it seems, and Jaehaerys uses every power granted to him to give a good chase for the adults around him. Sometimes they feel like him in a manner that hurts. 
Helaena comes up from her seat beside him to look at them as they stray. Calm in her steps, she knows they’ll return. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and even as it falls, it will always roll back around the soil of the tree’s roots. Aegon comes up after her, standing beside her in the shade of the pavilion’s roof.
She turns to him then, when they end up only having greenery to look at, their children out of sight. There is a feeling of vague emptiness now that the area is clear of the twins, but laughter from afar is what he’s rather used to hearing.
“Aegon,” Helaena makes him look down at her. There’s an odd pause, as there is before any of her provocations, as uncommon as they can be. Her mop of silver locks falls to her back as the tip-toes to kiss him. Her lips press against his softly, and her hand comes to squeeze on his arm. 
Her lips taste like sweet chamomile and tranquillity unknown, and he presses back into her kiss, as the sun threatens to uncover them from their shade. For moments few, he drinks in the heal of hope instead of the numbing of liquor, and grows unafraid to bask in the rays of this sunny day.
When Helaena breaks off the kiss, their noses brushing before finding their distance, she only says one more thing, with one hand touching his face. “Don’t look so sullen.” 
It invokes a dry laugh, the upturn of his lips won over. How many times has he been called sullen? Plenty, likely. Well, the court can shove that wherever they’ve left to shove it. The voices of his children become louder as they return, and he keeps his grin on.
“Papa, Rys fell again!” Jaehaera announces as she returns, and her twin comes behind her, proud in his scratches and ominous small blot of dry blood by his nose. 
“I won!” he counters his sister, unperturbed. 
“Your two left feet serve you well, don’t they?” He says coming forward. Without a beat, Jaehaerys replies.
“Yes!”
Helaena chuckles, and Jaehaera prevents her brother from slamming purposefully into the steps of the pavilion, dragging him up to them by the hand instead. It feels like he’s recovering; but it also feels a fever dream.
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