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#house of the dragon x reader
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House of the Dragon characters x Pregnant!Reader
Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of child death, pregnancy, mentions of sex, mentions of threesomes
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Daemon has trauma from what happened with his past wife, Laena. He's terrified that you'll die during childbirth, and will have a Maester check up on you every moon.
Daemon loves to gently press his forehead against your stomach, humming a song under his breath as you fall asleep.
He'll pick out a few dragon eggs for you to choose from for your guys' baby.
If there are any complications during the birth, he'll threaten to put the Maester's head on a spike if you don't make it out alive.
He'd rather you survive than the baby. You can always have another baby, but there's only one of you.
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It was no surprise that you got pregnant since the both of you were constantly fucking.
b i g b o o b s
His hands and mouth are constantly on your breasts and once you begin lactating it will probably get worse,
Like Daemon, Aegon would choose you over the child if it came to it. You are one of the only things that bring him some version of happiness and he'll be damned if he losses you.
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Aemond has thought of being a father before. Of course, since he was the second son, he would need heirs. He had also sworn that he would be a better father to his children than Viserys was to him.
Aemond does get a bit possessive when your pregnant and would prefer to be the one helps you bathe and gives you massages when you complain about back pain.
Though Aemond is usually reserved and shy about his touches, once he finds out your pregnant, he becomes more confident. Something that should of been a simple kiss, would end up with his hands wandering towards your breasts.
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Ser Harwin probably got you pregnant during one of the multiple threesomes you have with him and Rhaenyra.
She's over the moon when she finds out your pregnant.
Her hands are constantly on your stomach.
Rhaenyra has a lot of experience when it comes to pregnancy and childbirth. She'll be there for you, listening to your worries and reassuring you.
She'll go throw a list of baby names with you, and you'd land on Aemma and Baelon being one of your top picks.
Buys you long necklaces and new dresses that show off your breasts, and gives you a cheeky smirk when you catch her looking.
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HEAVY IS THE HEAD THAT WEARS THE CROWN.
Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader
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WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (uncle and niece), kinda non/dub con, p in v, semi public sex, doggy style, degrading, slapping, possessiveness, jealousy
WORDS: 1.5 K
NOTES: This is something I had written and posted on another blog when I (rightfully so) didn't feel accepted and wanted in fandom. So, if any of you remembers this, it was written by me. This is Lingo Jam High Valyrian (it is what it is).
❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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It’s way past the Hour of the Owl as you stand in the Throne Room all by yourself, all the tables for the guests of your coronation feast having already been cleared and stored away by the keep’s staff, leaving the room to be eerily quiet and empty. 
You stand in front of the intimidating Iron Throne, looming in the dim light of the candles around you, your fingertips barely brushing the sharp swords that were used to forge it by your ancestors, reminiscing about all the times you’ve seen your father sitting on it. 
Unlike your grandsire and father before you, you chose to wear the Conqueror's Crown and wield his sword, the big, square-cut rubies complimenting the red and gold gown you wear. 
The heavy doors leading to the intimidating chambers open behind you, but you don’t turn around, knowing all too well who intrudes the silence and serenity. His footsteps are heavy, bouncing off the thick columns and walls on his way. 
“Skoros iksis ziry ao jeldan naejot ȳdragon naejot nyke nūmāzma?” you ask, but before you’re able to turn around, the weight of your husband’s chest against your back pushes you forward, the ostentatious crown on your head toppling to the ground at the impact. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?
Both your hands immediately seize the armrests of the Iron Throne for support, more so when Daemon’s hand falls to the place between your shoulders to keep you exactly like you are, bowed forward with no chance to move. 
“Hm,” he hums, applying just a bit of pressure to your back. “How about the wanton farce you put up for that cunt of a Lannister?” he growls, and it’s clear it is not a question but an accusation. 
There is not one breath wasted when he rucks up the skirts of your gown and bunches it around your waist, fisting it with one of his large paws. The matter clearly is serious, and has occupied him for quite some time now, considering he prefers to answer you in the Common Tongue rather than High Valyrian. 
But it’s not like you have much time to really process the meaning behind it, considering he has the skirt of your dress in his hand in one moment, and your small clothes pulled down to your knees in the next. Your cunt is exposed to the chilly air of the Red Keep, and to anyone that chooses to intrude on such an intimate and disgraceful scene, and much to your husband’s surprise, you’re soaked with anticipation, which earns you a condescending scoff from him. 
He has quickly figured that there isn't going to come any reply from you, too caught up in the heat of the moment and the little predicament you’ve found yourself in, and forces a gasp from your lips as his hand not-so-gently collides with your bare rear. 
Your body slightly lulls forwards to escape the stinging pain that blooms on your skin, but to now avail. “I–I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you press with despair audible in your voice. 
But he just scoffs again. “Oh, I’m certain you don’t,” his voice is sharp, and the words underlined by another slap to your arse. “Need I remind Your Grace who they belong to?” The title is spoken in a way to make a mock display of his courtesy, displaying how little care he holds over your status at this moment.
You’re not quite sure what he is up to when you feel and hear him shifting and fumbling behind you, although you have a mild guess, until you feel the tip of his hard cock pressing against your soaked cunt. He pushes in even before you can answer, any words or pathetic protests dying on your tongue and replaced by a moan. 
“That’s what I thought,” he says more to himself, his tone suddenly taking on an air of smugness. His words are followed by a groan that flows into a heedless sigh as he bottoms out completely, his heavy stones pressing against your pearl. 
It’s a side to Daemon you haven’t seen or experienced before, despite growing up around him, his several liaisons and wives. There has never been something akin to jealousy coursing through his veins before. Yes, Daemon has always been a little too rough, too impatient and resolving matters by force rather than diplomacy, but you’ve never seen his blood run this hot. 
His upper body slightly bends forward and towers over yours as he rests one hand on the backrest of the Throne, the other still on your hip with your skirts tightly secured.
“What–” the words catch in your throat, replaced by a whimper. “What if anyone sees us?” 
“Jaelan zirȳ naejot ūndegon,” he growls. “Jaelan zirȳ naejot gīmigon bona iksā ñuhon.” I want them to see. I want them to know that you’re mine. 
The whine you release at that is nothing short of desperate. While the thought of anyone catching you two frightens you to the core, you enjoy the possessive side of him, reveling in his desire just for you since you’ve shared it most of your life with your younger sister. 
Pulling out of you almost completely, the tip of his cock is the only thing that remains buried inside of you. While the feeling of the sudden loss makes you whine and push your hips back to force him inside again, it also earns you another harsh slap that’s served to your arse. 
“Ao sagon ñuhon se mazemā skoros nyke tepagon ao, iksis bona shifang?” You're mine and you take what I give you, is that understood?
Daemon then slams his hips into yours as a warning, filling you up in a swift thrust that has you gasping, and knocks the air straight from your lungs. “Gaomagon daor mazverdagon nyke ivestragon ziry arlī,” he snarls. “Gaomagon. Ao. Shifang?” Each word is punctuated with a harsh snap of his hips.  Don’t make me say it again. Do. You. Understand?
“K… kessa,” you hiccup. Yes. 
The pace of his thrusts is nothing short of ruthless, and he uses the grip on your hip to pull you back onto his cock for your bodies to meet halfway, the most obscene sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing off the walls of the Throne Room.
His stones are heavy and the fleshy pouch they sit in slightly sagged, hitting your pearl perfectly each time he fills you to the brim, and sending shivers to the soles of your feet. 
Daemon forces your hips higher until you’re standing on your tiptoes for him, your body barely supported by his fingers digging into your hip. The angle changes with that, allowing him to shove his cock into you even deeper than before – a change that has him groaning and grunting over and over again. 
Your eyes lull into the back of your head, and the heat in your belly doesn’t diminish, causing a renewed wave of arousal to leak out of your core. 
Not caring if the skirts of your gown are riding down again, he grips the back of your neck firmly enough so you can’t turn your head, fucking you as if his life depends on it and knocking every breath clean out of your lungs. 
Daemon forces his hips into yours with such determination, he is close to shoving you up against the Iron Throne with the force of his need, your arms almost buckling under the weight he puts onto you. You can tell he’s racing for completion, effectively pulling you with him in the process. 
With the pace of his hips not faltering once, your peak washes over you in an ambush. The pleasure in your body gets intense enough for your legs to tremble, his hand that rests on the Iron Throne coming down to seize your hip to support you. Your walls clench around his cock tight enough for him to draw in a sharp breath, but the assault on your cunt doesn’t cease. 
“Qilōni gaomagon ao sytilībagon naejot?” Daemon groans, pulling you back onto his cock and fucking you through your peak. Who do you belong to? It’s almost as if he’s asking for your reassurance, wanting to be sure of your feelings for him. 
“A… ao,” you hiccup. “Ik… iksan aōhon.” You. I’m yours.
His peak crashes over him with your reassurance, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of your cunt. His hands trail up and down your sides in nothing else than pure bliss, and when it’s all over, he releases a sigh of relief, almost as if the pressure has fallen off his shoulders. 
He cups your arse with both hands, and squeezes your flesh. When he doesn’t make any move to pull out of you, however, it’s clear that he is relishing the way your drenched cunt embraces his flaccid cock.
“No one will make you feel as good as I do, dōna ābrazȳrys, and certainly no Lannister,” he rasps. “He would not know how to handle the Blood of the Dragon. You were made for me, and you belong to me. Always have, always will.” Sweet wife. 
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Daemon Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel @avalyaaa @baizzhu @yn-jackson
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BRUH THE HATE WITHIN HOTD NEEDS TO STOP!
Look, I know this will prob get me hate. But, can't we both agree on the following regardless of who's team we are on :
not giving giving death threats / hate / etc. to actors and other members of the fandom!
both Team Green and Team Black have done bad things in the Dance of the Dragons
innocent people got hurt in the conflict
and it was the biggest and most stupidest fight for a throne made of swords!
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Bruh, I just want us to all simp over hot Targs in peace!
Plus, the actor ( of whatever character you hate ) does not deserve this. Look what ya'll did to poor Jack Gleeson who played Joffrey Baratheon. He got SOOOOOO much hate that he completely dropped of the public eye for a few years.
PRAISE THE ACTOR FOR DOING A GOOD JOB IN MAKING THESE HATEABLE CHARACTER'S SO HATEABLE!
( Grow the hell up, it's a fucking FICTIONAL BOOK / TV SHOW!! )
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Targaryen
Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Daemon Targaryen Couple - Daemon X Reader Reader - Lymeria Targaryen (Daemon & Viserys sister, Twin to Ageon, Daughter of Alyssa and Baelon) Rating - Flirty Word Count - 2103
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I smiled as I stood at the top of the balcony in the throne room of the red keep. I watched over the throne room as lords gathered, word had come that today my brother returned to the city. Caraxes had been spotted across the sky and now had returned to the dragon pit. And now it was merely a matter of time before he returned. I watched my eldest brother Viserys in his best clothes, he took his crown to wear as well as his sword to hold at his side as he sat on the throne. I did my best not to shake my head at his desire for dramatics. 
But I'm sure they were purely in an attempt to keep up with my other brother's dramatics.
His footsteps echoed across the great halls long before he came into view, silence crept through the halls as he approached. 
Finally, my brother Daemon came around the corner, walking his way down the centre of the opened doors, dark sister on his hip, valerian steel armour over him a crown of bones in his silver hair, he walked with the confidence of a king his armour clinking as he walked. 
When he reached the base of the throne the kingsguard drew their swords and He stopped when the tip of the lord commander touched his armour. 
He pulled out the weapon from the stepstones the trophy of his war offering it to Viserys,
"Add it to the chair." He said before he dropped it letting it clank and clatter on the stone floor, 
I chuckled unable to hold back my amusement. Silence rang out as the commander picked up the weapon, 
"You wear a crown." Viserys glared down at him, "You also call yourself king?"
"After we smashed the triarcy, they named me king of the narrow sea," Daemon smirked back to him
I felt a desire to go down there and knock their heads together, Even after all these years, they are still my brothers and they still act like children.  
"But I know there is only one true king, your grace." Daemon bent the knee and removed his crown, "My crown, and the stepstones are yours."
"Where is Lord Corlyas?"
"Sailed home to Driftmark,"
"Who holds the stepstones?"
"The tides. The crabs. And two thousand dead triarcy corsairs. staked to the sand to warn those who might follow,"
Viseys stepped down from the throne letting the tip of his sword hit the stone floor, he took the crown that Daemon offered him in hand before passing it to his king's guard, "Rise."
Daemon rose to his feet once more and the two shared an embrace, it made me smile to see such a sight as the lords applauded.
"The realm owes you a great debt brother." 
Daemon nodded in agreement, the lords wished him well and headed out to continue their business for the day, I headed down and adjusted my red dress embroidered in dragon scales, as I approached Daemon was talking with Rhaenyra wishing her well since he had seen her. Before he turned and smiled at me.
"Dear Sister," He cooed,
"Dear brother, it is a sweet song to hear of your return." I smiled,
He chuckled and offered his arms so I happily wrapped my own around him and we shared a tight embrace, "I have missed you Lymeria," 
"I missed you too daemon," I cooed, we pulled back and I chuckled at him, "Must you always be so dramatic?"
"You'd be bored if I wasn't." he chuckled,
"I suppose," I laughed, "I am glad you are home dear brother."
"I am glad to be home," he smiled giving my cheek a soft kiss and running his hand through my hair before he softly kissed my shoulder,
I blushed but I moved away he looked confused as to why I had moved away but I glanced at Visery's who glared at us, "Shall we walk?" 
"I would enjoy a walk," He nodded and offered his arm,
I happily took it, and we headed out to the gardens to talk in private. "You must tell me of the war. Viserys refused to tell me of the proceedings even if I often asked."
He chuckled, "Oh, well, where can I start? There were many fights, and I won most of them. The men and I had quite the adventure on the Stepstones!"
"I'm sure you did, as soon as I heard the tale of the crab feeders' awful methods I admit I worried for you. Nothing could make me weep more of an evening than to think of you pinned to the beach and devoured,"
Daemon shook his head, his lips curling into a smirk "That would be a disgrace to our house to be devoured. Though not one you need to worry yourself with. I will let Nothing would ever harm me, dear sister. I always find my way out of trouble."
"you always have done. You'd think we'd be old enough now I would know never to worry you always find your way out of things," I laughed, "I'm sure Caraxes enjoyed the bloodshed?"
"Oh sure, Caraxes seemed to have an absolute blast burning, pillaging and slaughtering countless people. I think I may have had a little bit of fun myself, too," 
"I'm glad you enjoyed it, still we can hope now for some time of peace thanks to your efforts. We wouldn't want to run off again anytime soon," I smiled and squeezed his arm,
"There is always something to worry about. I am glad that the Stepstones are under our control, but something else will just turn up sooner or later."
"I'm sure your right..." I sighed "still, I hope atleast you get some time to rest once more. Time to enjoy some peace and quiet before flying off to another war"
"Rest? My dear sister, when have you ever known me to have time to rest? One thing after another just comes my way, and there hardly ever seems to be any time for me to properly rest. I suppose we'll just have to wait and see."
"I suppose so, still I am thrilled you are home and I know Viserys is too even if he doesn't say it"
Daemon's frown softened, "I'm sure Viserys is more relieved than anything that we didn't lose a Targaryen while I was away. Not to mention, we need all the Targaryen's we can get, especially with the state of this kingdom,"
I chuckled a little,
"I'm glad you find the state of our family amusing, or whatever is so funny. I'm sure there are plenty of people who would rather we weren't all so close to extinction," 
"I have never. In my life. Heard you sound so much like our father. you boys. Both of you are becoming more and more like father with every passing year, the obsession with the Targaryen legacy grows with age I think. Viserys has his models, you have your fears of our extinction. One of these days I'm going to be hearing about the power of valerian blood and steel"
"Well, is it a bad thing? Should we not be concerned with our legacy? With trying to uphold our status as the most powerful and greatest house in Westeros? The way I see it, father's priorities became my priorities. And what exactly is wrong with that?"
"nothing wrong with it I merely find it amusing," I nodded, "I know I... have only hindered this..."
"Lymeria." he sighed, "You cannot blame yourself for that,"
"But I do,"
"But you shouldn't." He said, "What happened to our mother and our brother was no fault of yours." He said stroking my cheek, "We are very lucky we have you,"
"Often it doesn't seem that way,"
"Well... Will you be adding to the Targaryen legacy?"
"ohh, dear brother. I have known for a very long time that I shall only undermine our legacy. Perhaps it is why I have not become like father as you and Viserys have. I am a woman Daemon, so like it or not I will be sold away name replaced, my children half Targaryen who will not carry the name. I hold no part in our legacy"
"It seems a shame to toss away legacy due to your lack of a cock."
"it can be, it's why so may women in our family go two routes... Either rebel against the system and cast out on their own making sure the are something for the legacy like our mother, or nymeria, or Serina Targaryen all powerful women who never married and made sure the legacy was upheld. Or... They marry within our family so the Targaryen name and valerian blood remain,"
"And of those two options, which do you intend to do?"
"I have not thought of it in all honesty"
"Well, I hope that you never have to face such a decision. The idea that you may have to makes me uncomfortable."
"as does it make me. But it is the decision that makes me. You boys go to war, do politics and such this decision is all that decides me. I know which I would choose if... It were possible"
"And that would be?"
"if possible, I would uphold the tradition of our family, and maintain the legacy. I would marry with the house another Targaryen and strengthen the valerian blood... But... As you said our family is declining and we are close to extinction. Mother and father are gone, as are all our aunts and uncles, we have only one living cousin but she has already married and her children velaryons. Viserys grieves his first wife and lusts his second. His children are young and foolish... Leaving... Only you and I." I avoided his eyes as I spoke, 
but his smirk grew, "And so, you would marry me if you could?"
"I would" I  blushed, "but you know Viserys would never allow it. As much as he dreams of old Valyira he often is sickened by its practices he wouldn't allow us'
 "You're probably right, though, who said it would have to be a public affair?"
"What?"
"It's quite simple, really. all we have to do is keep it secret, so that no one knows."
"and what of our children? Do you expect for them to live in secret ashamed of their own heritage? Viserys would disinherit us and any children we had and at that point whatever was the point in strengthing Targaryen's blood if our children the future of the legacy are treated no better than them dragon seed bastards?"
"You're right," he admitted. "it wouldn't do any good to strengthen our house's blood and not do anything about our children. But I have a solution for that too."
"oh? Enlightened me?"
"I would keep our children, and I would declare them as legitimate. And no one could tell me otherwise, especially not Viserys. Would he disown me? Maybe. But they would be legitimate, and our house would be even better off for it."
"That's true. I wonder though if Viserys would feel threatened. After all... If we were to have children they would be Targaryen blood on both sides, his children are Targaryen and aeryn and Targaryen and high-tower arguments could be made about our children would be more Targaryen than his"
"Then that's all the better for us and our children. We'll just have to make sure that Viserys understands that our children are the future of the Targaryen legacy, I will not allow them branded as bastards. We just need to tell our brother the right words, I suppose."
"I'm sure we could, if.. it is something we each desire," I asked carefully glancing at him sheepishly,
"It is something we both desire. We've already established that having Targaryen children is beneficial, and I want nothing more than a strong line of Targaryen. I've thought about this quite a bit actually."
"Have you now? During these long nights in her stepstones? Or perhaps even before that?' I teased,
"Even before then. It's the logical thing for two Targaryens to do, right?" 
"it is, I admit such a thought has been on my mind... Since even before father died"
"I see that we have not only thought of the same things but for as long as each other. I suppose that means we should make it a reality, right?"
"I would like that" I squeezed his arm and rested my head on his shoulder
"Then that's how it will be. We will show the world that our union is one to be celebrated, regardless of what people may think of it."
"We only have one person to convince. Our stubborn big brother"
"He will not deny us this, I will make sure of it. It is what is best for our family, and for our joy. Come we shall go now Lymeria see if he can still be sweetened."
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multific · 4 months
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Of Lit Fire and Silk Sheets
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Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary: Aemond arrives back to his room late at night, when you are already long asleep.
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When Aemond came into your shared bedroom it was already very late.
His duties as Prince kept him up almost all day, barely allowing him to take a break or even eat.
Aemond let out a long sigh as he took off his jacket.
The fireplace in his room was lit, illuminating the room.
On his bed, you slept.
You, his beautiful wife.
Aemond stopped by the end of the bed and looked at you. He has seen you sleeping plenty of times, but he was always right next to you, or he was too tired and went to sleep immediately as he got back. 
But now, even if he was tired, he still took a moment to just stop and look at you.
You looked breathtaking, the warm light from the fire illuminated your face and shoulder as you slept on your side, facing his empty side. Your arm reaching towards his side, trying to find him but failing.
Aemond allowed a small smile to form.
Oh, how you both hated the idea of being married, and yet here you both were, completely and undeniably in love. 
Aemond could still recall the moment your eyes turned from hatred to the soft look that you now have for him.
He could also recall the moment he realized he was in love with you when a Lord dared to speak ill of you and as a result, lost his head.
Aemond takes no chances when it comes to you, his wife.
He believes it is his duty to fully protect you from anything. Let that be his own family, a few lords with choice words or even himself.
Aemond takes no chances, much like a predator, he prefers to act first and think next.
He didn't use to be like that.
He was always very calculated, just not when it came to you.
Love, as they say, is a stronger force than anything, greater than fear or even dragons.
You stirred slightly in your sleep and Aemond moved. Removing his clothes and putting on the comfortable pants and shirt he preferred to sleep in, he quickly moved back to you and laid down.
His muscles relaxed against the silk sheets and comfortable pillows.
He wanted to pull you closer, but he was afraid to wake you.
Aemond just laid there, watching you sleep as he contemplated his next move. He knew he would not be able to sleep fully without having you in his arms or have you closer.
But he didn't have to, you instinctively still asleep, moved closer to him, placing your hand on his chest as you continued to sleep. 
Aemond let out a long sigh as he closed his eyes. He felt you moving beside him as you soon placed your head on his chest, got comfortable under the covers and fell right back to sleep.
His hand moved to find yours on his chest as he fell asleep.
Not even the howling wind outside would hurt you, he will make sure of it.
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Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @brascaris
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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princessbellecerise · 10 months
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Pregnancy Headcanons
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──── ✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧ ────
summary | How the House of the Dragon characters would react before, during and after your pregnancy
warnings | Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth
this is a work of fiction. i do not own these characters
divider by @princessbellecerise
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Jacaerys Velaryon
Finding Out
Jacaerys has the audacity to look shocked when the Maester tells him that you’re pregnant, like the two of you haven’t been fucking like rabbits ever since you got married
No seriously—he literally freezes and just kind of…stares with an unreadable expression on his face
Just sort of wide-eyed, in shock before he finally snaps out of it and briskly walks away without another word
He’s not really sure what to do, or how to react to be honest. And it might take a few days for him to come around, but he will eventually
Bonus: Rhaenyra sees his reaction and she’s like Jacaerys, what did you expect?
And he’s like: Not this
And then she’s like: Well did you pull out? Ask for moon tea? Something??
And Jace is just like staring at her like: No? Why would I do that?
Like boy what did you expect when you literally nut inside your wife every single time
During Pregnancy
Once he does come around though, Jacaerys will be so protective. I’m talking like he barely let you out of his sight, and makes sure that everyone knows you’re pregnant
Like they can’t already tell, he’ll constantly tell people that you’re carrying his heir and that they need to be careful with you
Even the Maesters who literally know what they’re doing get a scolding by the future king if he thinks they’re being too rough
No one is allowed to get too close to you and if they do, Jace will always have one hand on his sword just in case he needs to defend you
He will even better himself at sword fighting, pushing himself to the limits during the hours that he’s not with you so that he can always be prepared
For Jacaerys, you being pregnant is sort of like a wake-up call for him, a chance for him to finally rise to his responsibilities and become a bit more serious
He understands the weight of being king now and for Jace, he’ll want to put away all childish things so that he could become the man you and your child need
Giving Birth
Oh my god he’s so supportive
I’m talking like this is a man that will get behind you and physically hold you while you push
Despite what anyone says, he will be there for the birth of his child and he will be so soothing
Holding you, kissing you, kissing your neck to calm you down, taking the cloth from the Maester and wiping the sweat off of your forehead
Jacaerys’ support of you never ends and he’s constantly telling you how proud of you he is even while you’re screaming your lungs out
He’ll help you breathe and let you squeeze his hand till you break it if that’s what you so desire
Calling you his brave girl and letting out teary laughter when your baby is finally delivered
After Birth
When your child is born, it’s like fatherhood is something Jacaerys is born for
He’s a natural; knowing exactly what to say and how to raise your children even if you are still figuring it out
Seriously, it’s like he has a cheat code or something
If the two of you have a boy, then Jace won’t hesitate to start grooming him to be king and unlike most father’s, he is very involved in his son’s upbringing
Jacaerys will be the one to teach him how to hold a sword, how to ride a horse and a dragon. Jace will be there for his son every step of the way no matter how improper it may seem
Likewise, if he has a daughter, he will be entirely overprotective
If you thought it was bad when she was in the womb, just wait until Jace takes one look at his baby girl
Suddenly, he’s terrified to let her out of his sight; sometimes even holding her on his knee during council meetings. She likes to play with the marble and Jace tries so hard to keep a straight face while also wrestling it out of her hands
Everyone at the meeting will try and pretend like they don’t hear her babbling and like it’s not the cutest thing ever while they’re talking about literal war
Overall, Jace would be prepared to defend you and your children to the death if need be, and he would be such a stern but loving dad
Lucerys Velaryon
Finding Out
Luke doesn’t even notice that you haven’t gotten your moon blood for several months and neither do you, until one day a servant happens to say something and you’re both like: oh shit
Since you both are still quite young you’re not really supposed to be having heirs at the moment. Like Rhaenyra specifically told this boy to not get you pregnant just yet and now he’s terrified of telling her
So yeah, it was an accident and Luke is so nervous he’s literally shaking when the Maester confirms it
But sweet boy, he will do his very best to remain calm and will put on a brave face for you
He’ll act like he’s not scared as well at the prospect of having children so young but on the inside he’s freaking out. He’ll hold your hand tightly and give you kisses to calm you down, keeping his voice from shaking to seem brave
During Pregnancy
Even though it’s a little too soon for the both of you to become parents, Luke will slowly become excited at the prospect of becoming a father
Like he’s so proud, growing to love his child before you’re even four months along
He decides right then and there that he’ll do anything to protect you and his child and swears that no harm will ever come to either of you
While you’re pregnant, Luke will take on every single responsibility so that you won’t be stressed out. He always has you relaxing and content while he deals with all of the hard stuff
And yeah, over the course of the months he will find himself growing up a little
Maybe a little bit too fast, much his mother’s sadness, but Rhaenyra can’t help but love the look of pride of Luke’s face every time he touches your belly. And neither can you
You love when Luke rubs your son or daughter and you especially love when he blows raspberries on your stomach, giggling every time while he coos to the baby or talks to them in High Valerian
It’s a such a sweet moment to witness and many people, sometimes even Daemon, catch themselves smiling or smirking at you and the young prince
Giving Birth
Okay, so Lucerys is now back to being scared shitless
It all started on the day you delivered your child, with Luke sweating and pacing outside of your room while the Maesters attended to you
Your screams severely upset him and he kept pacing back and forth in the hallway, peeking in the room and desperately trying to get a glimpse of you before the Maesters pushed him out
He wants to be there for you so bad, especially since it’s your first pregnancy and you’re crying your eyes out for him
Eventually, he’ll just have to say damn it and force his way in, gathering his courage for his wife. And even though the Maesters tell him that it’s highly improper, he’ll ignore them and will hold your hand the entire way
Whispering sweet praises in your ear and stroking your back while Rhaenyra or your own mother loudly encourages you
He’ll be so worried up until the moment he hears that first cry, and that’s when everything just melts away for Luke and all he can feel is happiness when the Maester hands you your child
After Birth
After your child is born, you and Luke are the absolute best parents
You’re both soft and gentle with your baby, and you’re glowing in a way that Luke just absolutely loves
Both of you have immense pride for your son or daughter and you fall in love immediately despite not even knowing if you were ready yet
You just…jump in and honestly it’s not so bad for you and Luke once your bundle of joy finally gets there
Lucerys especially is thrilled, winning the best dad award for always playing with your child or making up silly games to make them laugh
You love watching him interact with your baby because he’s just so good at it and he doesn’t even realize it
Sometimes, he’ll confess his insecurities that he might not do a good job at raising your kid and you literally have to be like: hold up. Luke you’re doing amazing already
He’d be scared and terrified on where this new adventure would lead but honestly, Lucerys has never been happier and in the end it would all work out
Also, he totally gets so excited when you let him pick out an egg for the baby, just like he did for his brothers
It’s almost like it’s tradition, and every single time Luke knows exactly the right one to choose
Aemond Targaryen
Finding Out
If you’re nervous to tell Aemond, then don’t be
Nine times out of ten he’s so perceptive that he’ll put it together himself and Aemond will be over the moon
He will not stop smiling the entire time the Maesters confirm it, pressing a hand to your stomach and kissing your belly
His reaction kind of throws you off a little bit because you’ve never seen him so excited in his life, but he reassures you that he’s been waiting so long for this moment and now he’s just ecstatic that it’s finally here
During Pregnancy
While you’re pregnant, Aemond hardly ever lets you leave your bed chambers. Nor does he let anyone other than your family or Maesters near you
He’s just so protective and he’s paranoid that something’s going to happen so he wants you to be safe at all costs
He definitely does his own research because it’s not like he distrusts the Maester’s, he just wants to be sure that he knows what they know and more about childbirth in case he has to step in
God forbid your baby won’t come or is stuck upside down—two common themes for Targaryen children. Aemond reads all about it so that he knows different ways of getting the baby out or repositioning it without hurting you
He’ll also read about different birth techniques and decides to teach you to make your labor easier
Making you drink raspberry tea, take walks or stretch to lesson your pain when the time comes
You have to admit, you’re a bit shocked when your husband comes to you and makes you start doing breathing exercises with him
After all, who would have thought Aemond of all people would be so involved and so devoted?
It definitely warms your heart to see though—and no matter how much you want to wave him, you always end up letting him help you because you trust your husband you know more than anything he has yours and your child’s best interests at heart
Giving Birth
Aemond will respect your privacy and will wait outside during your labors, but you better believe he’ll be right there
Listening to every scream and every detail just in case he feels the need to step in
If you really want him to be there, he absolutely will be in a heartbeat. And if anybody tries to stop him he’ll venomously tell them to get out of his way before pushing them aside
As much as he loves his incoming child, majority of Aemond’s focus will be on you and your safety
He’ll make sure everything is going smoothly before he even thinks about celebrating and only then will he finally start to smile, a grin like no other taking over his face when your baby is finally placed in his arms
After Birth
Aemond is a caring yet trusting father
He knows that if his child came from you, they’ll already grow up to be exceptional so he allows them to grow into their own person
He doesn’t hover, but he does care. A lot
He may not show it in every way but if your child wants his attention, they’ve got it. If they want to play with him, he absolutely will. If they want to be comforted? He’s there. They tell him they want some space? Then Aemond is in the next room over, ready to talk when they are
In a way, your children are way for Aemond to heal his own self. To be there as a parent like his never were
Early on, Aemond already swore to you and your babe that he would never abandon you or ignore you when you needed him most
He swore to break the curse his parents placed on him so he is very involved with his kids
He’s also very protective, especially considering what he went through in his childhood. He never wants his child to feel left out so Aemond will go searching for a dragon egg pretty early on
You better believe that thing is burning HOT until the moment it’s ready to be placed in your child’s cradle
And Aemond swears
He swears by the old gods and the new that if they allow his child to have their own dragon he would never commit another sin again, if that’s what it took
And sure enough, Aemond is beyond relieved when your babies egg hatches—the widest grin ever overtaking his face as the baby dragon prances about
You swear—you sometimes joke that it was Aemond’s fiery gaze on the egg that hatched it and not nature
And while that very well may be true, Aemond is just grateful nevertheless that even if he wasn’t delt the best cards, he sure would find a way to rig the game for his children
Anything just to make them happy
Daemon Targaryen
Finding Out
You wish you could say that after having two children of his own, your husband would recognize the signs of pregnancy
But unfortunately Daemon is not a man that concerns himself with that kind of stuff so it’s the Maester that points it out to him
And at first, Daemon is stunned
Like okay—he knows that he never pulls out and that the two of you go multiple rounds a day but pregnant?
He thought that your tits getting bigger was just, well, a huge blessing for him
He can hardly believe his ears or that he’s going to have more children
Briefly, he jokes that he may as well start breeding his own army which causes you to punch his arm
Joke aside though, Daemon is really happy and he will shower you with kisses, laughing slightly at how his seed must be extra strong to stick so fast
During Pregnancy
Daemon is not really much help himself, expect for when it comes to massages or warm baths
Almost every night, to ease your discomfort, your Lord husband will bathe you which is oddly intimate for him, or he will massage your feet and shoulders to soothe some of the pain
Of course, your other activities will remain as well which helps a little the closer you get to birth
Mostly, Daemon will be ordering Maesters around or just simply asking you of your progress from time to time
He really hopes for a boy secretly, and sometimes while you’re sleeping or just barely awake, he will rub your stomach and whisper sweet phrases in High Valerian
Expect Daemon to also already have the names of his children picked out, boy or girl
He might even ask Baela or Rhaena their opinion and let them choose an egg from Caraxes
If he has to be somewhere else where he cannot physically look after you, he’ll also entrust his daughters to keep them informed and up to date on your condition
Giving Birth
Daemon is outside, on the balcony while your screams reach his ears
Truth be told, it’s too much. He can’t be there as much he wants to be—as much as you surely need him to be
After witnessing Laena’s death, childbirth has become quite traumatizing for Daemon so he prefers to remain outside, waiting until a Maester or one of his daughters come to fetch him
Of course, Baela—ever her father’s daughter—scolds Daemon a bit and reminds him that every lady wife needs her husband during such times
But Daemon will not budge, not until Rhaena comes to the balcony with an unreadable expression on her face
At first, Daemon is terrified. He stands, the breath freezing in his lungs as he tries to decipher what that might mean. Your screams had died down…perhaps…
Daemon stands, his heart clenching in chest as he begins to possibly grapple with another untimely death of the one he loved. He prepares himself, but then a wide smile grows on Rhaena’s face and Daemon knows all is well
“My sibling is here. It is healthy, father.”
That’s all Daemon needs. And suddenly, he’s tearing himself away and down the halls, straight to your room where he walks in on the sight of your smiling face and the glowing cheeks of his newborn child
After Birth
You like to give Daemon the benefit of the doubt and say that he spends an equal amount of time with his children
Of course, maybe a little bit more attention towards the baby since he or she does need Daemon more than his adolescent children, but as your child grows up pretty much everything is the same
Baela and Rhaena absolutely adore their new sibling and vice versa. They may be a bit older but you’ll always find the three of them playing together or one of the girls reading them a bed time story
It always warms your heart to see them bond, and Daemon’s too
Though he’ll never admit it, his favorite thing to do is spy on his children and eavesdrop as the girls help the youngest with their Valerian
Or when the three of them are together, somehow still fitting on his lap and Daemon teaches them the history of their house while you sit in the background, smiling
It’s special moments like those that remind you that while you may have married a morally grey man, his number one priority would always be his family
And you know more than anyone that with Daemon around, the five of you would never have anything to fear
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missdrake · 5 months
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Yandere Aegon's Conquest (platonic) headcanons
AKA Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys as your yan!parents + Aenys and Maegor as your yan!Brothers
Characters: Aegon the conqueror, Visenya Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen, Maegor & Aenys Targaryen, Orys Baratheon
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Note: Adopted and female!reader, toxic relationships, some interpreted romance/incest, Fire and Blood spoilers
You may have joined the Targaryen family through any of them. Brought to King's Landing as an offer, a hostage from Dorne. Whatever the reason was, you have now become the obsession of three dragon riders.
Naturally, there was some opposition at first. It's enough to keep a whole kingdom together; with lords either bending the knee willingly or by force, having the faith tolerate their marriages, and now they bring a child into the fold who didn't seem to bear much resemblance.
Yet despite widespread opposition, there was utter silence when it became evident what would happen if someone were to comment on your legitimacy. It's frightening to face Aegon's wrath, but he and his sisters combined; downright terrifying. 
They tended to differentiate when it came to ways of parenting. You would have likely been overindulged if it weren't for Visenya, who adopted a stricter role in place of Rhaenys and Aegon. On the other hand, it's Aegon who adopts the role of the meditator, keeping the peace whenever his wives come to disputes.
Orys is the only one Aegon truly trusts along with his sisters and despite Rhaenys and Visenya sharing Aegon's trust, they're not exactly thrilled about sharing you with anyone else. It’s noticed how quickly Orys steps into the role of an uncle, adding more fuel to the gossip (being Aegon’s brother). Like everyone else, he's just as protective and is more than willing to personally handle anyone who dares to cross you. But also similar to Aegon, beyond being protective, he's pretty laid-back. During your younger years, he'd times have you seated on his lap or playfully throw you up in the air.
As mentioned, Visenya is fiercely protective and sometimes may come off as a bit harsh, but her intentions are solely for your well-being. Her kingsguards are not only ordered to protect the king but are specifically trained to protect their little princess. She’s involved in your education, ensuring that you embrace your ‘Valyrian’ heritage. 
Each day she’ll have you rehearse your words, recount the history of your family house, and fulfill all your supposed duties. It’s Aegon and Rhaenys who urge Visenya to give you a break from time to time (not just because they want to spend time with you). Visenya also insists on training you despite her brother and sister’s wishes. Rhaenys thinks your gentle hands shouldn’t touch a blade with Aegon claiming you’re protected enough.
While they might disagree on many things, both Aegon and Rhaenys agree with Visenya's idea of giving you your own dragon egg. Given as a gift on your nameday. And even if the dragon hatches and you may never ride it, they are sure to let it recognize you as their owner; to let it be yours and yours only. Besides it’s further proof to the rest of the kingdom that you’re indeed one of them.
Like Visenya, Rhaenys is very much involved in your life and rarely lets you out of her sighs. She’s much smothering and the most affectionate out of her siblings, known to watch you with great fondness and expect to be praised for even the smallest accomplishments.
Rhaenys takes charge of your wardrobe, dressing you in the colors of House Targaryen and embellishing you with all sorts of jewelry. The many songs she has ensured to be dedicated, praising your elegance and beauty that they are believed to have passed down generations.
That’s not to say Aegon isn’t involved, he is but tends to be overshadowed by his sisters; finding himself stuck in the middle of their disagreements. Despite this, he makes his stance known and will use all types of excuses to steal you away. Aegon goes as far as making you his cupbearer, though while the council members are hesitant to take you away from the king's side. Only Orys dares to have you come and fill his cup.
They often find themselves in childish arguments on who you should ride with. Aegon occasionally claims victory, it helps Baelrion is the largest. In fact, whenever any of the siblings go for a flight, they are likely to bring you along. During their shared flights, they would showcase all sorts of tricks like getting close to the water or letting their dragons spit fire in the open air just to witness the excited look on your face.
Aegon spoils you (rotten) and is ready to fulfill almost all your whims and desires. While he’ll gladly gift you with jewelry and gowns like Rhaenys, Aegon is more inclined to make grand gestures like contracting statues and naming things in your honor. If you were to ask, he'd happily construct a bathhouse, a vast garden, you just need to ask.
Aegon is surprisingly someone you find it easy to turn to whenever you get in trouble, along with Uncle Orys. He's perfectly fine with you doing your own thing, playing away while he watches from a distance.
Despite their occasional arguments, at the end of the day, they are united through their care for you. You mean everything to them, and though each may express it differently, they all just want to see you happy and safe.
Adding Maegor and Aenys into the mix just makes everything more chaotic. While it's not much of a hidden secret that Rhaenys and Visenya favor you, they attempt to keep it subtle. Aegon isn't very adept at hiding it, and there have been discussions where he expresses the desire for you to be his heir instead. However, by the Westerosi tradition, Aenys is the expected heir.
Aenys and Maegor are particularly attached to you, even when their parents clearly seem to favor you. Being a bit older than Aenys, Rhaenys actively encouraged the bond between you two. She always insisted your small self to hold him and it became well-known among the castle servants that baby Aenys would cry until you came at his side. 
The death of Rhaenys threw everything into chaos. Visenya and Aegon, if possible, became even more protective, god forbid if Dorne were to make an attempt (or try to bring you back). You became the outlet for their grief, with Aegon demanding your presence more than ever. Aenys clung to you for comfort, a child who doesn’t seem to fully understand where his mother went. 
A year or two passed before Maegor was born, and he was already different from the start. Aenys, always smaller than the other kids, remained easily carried by your child self even as he grew. You'd lift him up on your back as he squealed with delight, but Visenya would scold you; your back could get hurt and Aenys is heir, he must be expected to behave like one.
Maegor, on the other hand, was bigger than most kids, with round and full cheeks that you couldn't resist poking and pulling. Similar to Aenys, he constantly demanded your attention, but unlike Aenys who cried, Maegor caused tantrums, pushing other kids you interacted with and throwing things until he got the attention he sought.
A rivalry started between the brothers, and more often than not, you found yourself in the middle of it, but it was mostly one-sided with Maegor often starting the conflicts. Moreover, Aegon directed most of his attention toward Aenys with kingdom duties and all, leaving you mostly with Maegor and Visenya.
Unlike Rhaenys, who didn't have the time to mold her son, Visenya did. She made sure that her son knows that it’s his duty to protect and care for you, deeming Aenys as weak in her eyes. Maegor learned to value you above all else. Sparring was no longer necessary, as according to Maegor he’ll be the one to protect you from now. In one incident, Maegor attacked a noble boy who had jokingly insulted you. Aegon and Visenya never punished him, with the excuse that Aegon didn't want to cause a scene.
Aenys, much like his mother, is naturally affectionate. Openly embracing you in front of the entire court or hold your hand as you walk together. Such displays of affectionate were a never-ending lecture from Visenya and Aegon and all it did was fuel Maegor’s jealousy. 
As all three of you came of age, there was a flood of suitors vying for your hand in marriage. Aegon would use any excuse to deter them, but deep down, he secretly wished to wed you to Aenys but he knows Visenya might insist on Maegor instead, further fueling the rivalry between the brothers. The reactions of your brothers toward your suitors only intensifies, with Maegor eagerly challenging anyone who seeks your hand and Aenys wearing a mask of happiness for you while secretly desiring to have you all to himself.
It becomes even messier if the brothers are wed to other women. Alyssa and Ceryse, in particular, feel the pressure to be on your good side, knowing that a gesture from you could sway their husbands in your favor. Despite being married to them, the wives can't shake the feeling of being the "other women". The awkwardness is heightened by Aenys, who insists on you being close to his children, going so far as to let you be one of the first to hold baby Rhaena. 
The family was struck with a moment of grief upon Aegon's death, leaving Visenya as the sole parent. With Aegon, and even Orys, no longer present, Visenya had the freedom to enforce her regulations and expectations without interruption. Maegor, being a wild card, proved difficult to control. Despite Aenys' perceived weakness, he stepped into Aegon's place, not directly opposing Visenya and Maegor but making it clear that you were a line not to be crossed. Your place is to be with him and his family, by his side in council. 
Aegon's death set off a chain reaction, fueling the underlying war within the family that had already been brewing.
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aelenavelaryon · 5 months
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Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen Reader
Summary: Daemon finally finds love
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Aella Targaryen was nothing like the rest of her family. She couldn't be. Many would often said she was a sweet girl whose only mistake was to have Valyrian blood cursing through her veins. House Targaryen had been on the Iron Throne for over a hundred years, she could remember the throne, it was rather beautiful she would admit. But, House Targaryen was a cursed lineage. Aella thought it was because they were all related. Brothers married sisters, uncles married nieces, cousins married cousins.
When Aella was brought to court she was nothing but a babe. Only one perhaps two moons old. Daughter of Saera Targaryen and her brother Rhaegar Targaryen. Rhaegar and Saera had both been wild and untamable. The two ran away after Saera escaped Old Town and they were never seen again until now. Aella Targaryen was born in the year 105. Rhaegar brought his daughter to court, to present among the realm. Saera had died in her birthing chamber. Viserys, who had lost his wife a nearly two years prior welcomed them both. Aella grew up beside Alicent’s children and Rhaenyra's children.
Aella although growing up with her cousins she preferred to be alone, sitting in the gardens or her room and reading a history book. Her father wondered where she had gotten all of that, she was not like her mother or him. But, there were things he did like singing, poems and song writing much like his daughter. Aella had the basic training, in case she had to protect herself but the young girl no matter the circumstances could never and would never bring herself to hurt anyone. It wasn't in her blood no matter how much her father tried. But Rhaegar would protect his daughter no matter the cost. She rode Meraxes, queen Rhaenys dragon, the princess died that day but her dragon lived.
As the years passed, Aella Targaryen grew into a beautiful maiden. "The Realm's Angel" or "The Realm's Desire" surpassing her cousin Rhaenyra in beauty and everything else. Aella had reached her ten and five name day and was yet to be unmarried. Her father was the reason for that, although he was no king he saw that no one was fit to marry his only child. No one would ever be good enough. Alicent thought it would be a good idea to marry her to Aegon or Aemond if she wished. Rhaenyra thought she would be a great match for Jacaerys or Lucerys. Rhaegar Targaryen refused, once again. But, a few moons later he passed from a swollen belly, leaving his only child at the mercy of her family.
Aella didn't know who to choose as her family had given her the choice to marry who she wanted between the four boys. She was dutiful, whoever her uncle had chosen she would have married but she did not want to disappoint anyone by choosing wrong. The council knew that Aella marrying either of her nephews was a tragedy waiting to happen, so the young girl offered a marriage between another house but Rhaenyra, Alicent and the king denied her. Daemon who had recently lost his wife asked her to marry him, to unite themselves and protect each other. Aella was young, only fifteen summers old what did she know about love. She knew more about duty than love.
So, to stop any family issues or more drama she agreed and secretly married Daemon, consummating their marriage, now it could not be broken. The news reached King's Landing the morning after, creating chaos in the court. The king was fragile in health so he did nothing, besides they were married and they had consummated there was no breaking anything. Rhaenyra stayed in King's Landing, while Daemon, his wife and two daughters remained in Dragonstone. Nearly a year after their wedding Baelon Targaryen and Rhaegar Targaryen were born. Strong boys. On their second named day, their sisters Rhaella and Visenya had been born. When the boys were five, their sisters three Aemma and Viserys were born.
Baela and Rhaena quickly accepted Aella as she had this motherly warmth the girls loved and she had glady taken the role as their mother, not that she would try to replace the girls mother but she did her best to love and care for them as she did for her own children. Aella with Daemon's approval let the girls ride their dragons to Driftmark to visit their grandparents. Rhaenys and Corlys were grateful that the young girl allowed them to visit their mother's family as much and as often as they could. The six children had been kept a secret through out the years. Aella was near her one and twenty name day. As a result, the king had invited her and her family to celebrate as a family.
Her arrival had been expected, Aegon was now married to Helaena and had two children, twins. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Aemond was unmarried but as far as she knew he was bethroted to a Baratheon girl. Jacaerys was to marry soon but his mother and father were looking for a suitable match. When she arrived, Daemon and the girls were waiting as her and the children had sailed there due to the young kids. Rhaenys and Corlys who were there watched their granddaughters run to their new mother. They saw the love the two girls had for her. King Viserys recovered and went back to being the peaceful king he was. He waited with his family as he watched Daemon help his wife.
She had turned into a beautiful woman, everyone could agree. She seemed happy with Daemon. And she was, he treated her good and with respect. "My king, my queen" she  greeted with a nod. "Princess Rhaenyra, Laenor" she said with a smile. She greeted everyone. "Now, may we present our children?" she asked and everyone turned to her. They were surprised. The king nodded and Daemon signaled the maids to bring them. "Baelon and Rhaegar, our oldest. Visenya and Rhaella out second oldest. Viserys and Aemma our youngest" Daemon introduced as the four oldest made their bows to the king and queen. The youngest were only one.
"May I?" the king asked as he took Aemma, she had her eyes. Rhaenys took Viserys. "Baelon looks like our father, and Rhaegar looks like Aemon" Rhaenys nodded in agreement. Everyone cooed over the Aella'a children and all she did was smile. During the feast for her nameday, Daemon and his wife could see the tension between Alicent and Rhaenyra. "I would like to propose an alliance between our families" Aella began. She had spoken with Corlys and Rhaenys, and of course her husband. "A bethrotal between Jacaerys and Baela. And Rhaena with prince Lucerys" she said with a smile. Rhaenyra smiled. "I think that is a great idea" Daemon held her hand and nodded. "In addition, if Aegon and Helaena agree Jaehaera could marry Baelon and Vinseya Jaehaerys" the table was quiet but Alicent smiled. "I think that is magnificent idea" the king nodded in agreement. "Our house will be united" she smiled happy with the outcome.
Aella Targaryen was a woman many remembered, she had given her family peace but that peace nearly broke when Otto Hightower deemed her dangerous, sending for someone to kill the princess. The princess perished on top of her dragon as a scorpion hit the beast right in the neck, killing it instantly. She received the same fate as queen Rhaenys. The lady didn't survive the fall. Daemon Targaryen never remarried but once he found out who killed her, the Hightowers, more importantly Otto, he was killed soon after. Alicent was pardoned as she didn't know anything. Rhaenyra was crown queen and the princess match's were honored as Baela married Jacaerys, Rhaena Lucerys, and once older Baelon and Visenya married Aegon's children.
The Sweet Summer Child died but her memory remained throughout the years. Aella Targaryen iii married her brother Rhaegar, giving him the heirs he needed. House Targaryen didn't end with Daenerys Targaryen, it went on. It prospered. From Aella Targaryen the first, came the prince that was promised and the realm lived in peace.
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avtrbee · 1 year
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in the beginning
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✢summary: in a final attempt to salvage the rift between your families, you suggest a marriage pact between you and and alicent’s second son
✢tags: aemond x targaryen!reader, reader is rhaenyra and laenor second born child
✢tw: kinda possessive (?) aemond, i specifically mention that reader has one purple eye and the other brown and white hair- other than that its all ambiguous, targcest 😭
✢a/n: gods this man has a chokehold on me fr, and the gif isnt mine
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You have never seen your mother so angry. After the disastrous family dinner, Rhaenyra Targaryen all but shoved her children inside her solar. The Princess of Dragonstone walks around in circles with fire in her footsteps and a finger in her mouth to soothe her anxiety, no doubt recalling the events a few moments prior.
Daemon sat comfortably on the seat behind your mother, seemingly amused by the situation. His violet eyes seem to glow in delight as he watches his wife scold her children. You had looked at him for help, but he only looked back as if saying, you’ve woken the dragon.
“I had thought you better than this!” She stops her strides and snaps her neck to the children huddled together on an ottoman. You, Luke, and Jace sit as close as you can together- a pathetic attempt to comfort each other from your mother's wrath. It is what you’ve always done, it’s what Rhaenyra had always taught you to do; protect each other.
Luke was the first to speak. “But he called us St-“
“Those whispers had been used against you since the moment you were born. I was wrong to hope you’d get used to it,” came your mother’s cold reply. An echo of the dinner fills the room. You all seemingly recall Aemond’s words, and all the whispers said before his- Strong bastards.
You feel Luke shrink back to his seat.
From the floor, you dared to gaze up at your mother. It was a mistake. As soon as you looked up, her violet eyes caught yours and the fire in her burned greatly.
“You were always the best of them,” Rhaenyra regards you with a furious gaze and a disappointed tone. “I had expected better from you. But for you to strike Alicent’s eldest son-"
“He called them bastards!” You argue, anger seeping through your pores and out to the air of your mothers chamber. “Aegon deserved it.”
“Them,” Rhaenyra repeats. “Them, not you. I had thought you knew better than to meddle in business you are not part of, Y/N.”
In truth, Rhaenyra is relieved that out of all her children with Laenor you are the one no one would dare question your legitimacy. Rhaenrya’s only daughter did not inherit the dark Baratheon hair of their grandmother (or the hair of a Strong, as the traitorous whispers insist), but the Valyrian features House Targaryen and House Velaryon are so famous for- silver as hair and an amethyst for an eye. It was a pity you are her second born and not her first.
Like Luke, you feel yourself curl back in your seat. “I’m sorry, mother.”
“Do you know what you have done?” Rhaenyra’s voice calls out as you cowardly stare at the floor, refusing to meet her gaze. You feel Luke’s hand sneak to hold yours in an attempt to comfort you. “In any other fight, I would have defended you tooth and nail, but this is a fight that you had started.”
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, unable to say anything else. In truth, it all began with Aemond, the roasted pig, and Luke’s unstifled giggles. Aemond got angry, but words were only words. You had punched Aegon first, and it became the catalyst of the fragile truce. You were not blind nor stupid, you have felt the tension between your mother and the Queen Regent. It had been made worse with Aemond’s bullying and the loss of his eye. And now you.
You knew how important the dinner was until you ruined it. Foolish, foolish, girl.
If there were to be a war in House Targaryen, history would blame Princess Y/N Velaryon and her temper. The fall of Valyria’s last surviving houses was caused by your hands, and a glance at Rhaenyra’s pregnant belly makes the guilt inside you grow. You have done nothing but cause her stress, especially when she is pregnant with your youngest sibling.
“Y/N is your grandmother reborn,” Viserys whispered as he first held you, back when you were still a babe. Rhaenyra watched as her father caressed her daughter’s cheek in wonder at her mismatched eyes.
Perhaps Alyssa Targaryen is why Viserys had favored Y/N out of all his grandchildren, and perhaps she is the reason why Daemon defends her.
“She was protecting her brothers,” came his voice behind Rhaenyra. Or perhaps he is hungry for another war.
“But it’s true,” argued Jace. “It is no use denying it when it is so obvious.” Rhaenyra regards her son with pity in her eyes, the fire of her anger fading regret. “It doesn’t matter anyway, for the fathers that supposedly sired us are both dead.”
“No,” argued Rhaenyra, finally striding over to all three of her oldest children. Her hands extend to touch you and Jace’s cheeks as Luke sandwiches between you. The Princess of Dragonstone kneels in front of her children and regards them slowly. “Your claim to the throne is not given by any man. You have a claim to the throne because I am its heir. ”
You and your siblings nod in unison.
Jace, your oldest brother, attempts to set an example. “We shall apologize to the Queen and her children for the trouble we’ve caused,” he proposes. You wonder what the realm will be like when he becomes King. “Luke will apologize to Aemond first-” Jace emphasizes his last words, fully expecting Luke’s reaction. “And Y/N shall apologize to Aegon.”
Rhaenyra regards Jace with a proud look. “What a great King you will be, sweet boy. But Alicent won’t accept this. Not after Aemond’s eye.” Beside you, Luke cringes no doubt recalling the past. “Not after one of her sons is harmed again,” Rhaenyra continues and it is your turn to try not to cower at your mothers words.
Rhaenyra stares at her eldest children, waiting for the ferocious anger within to lull and fade to a steady fire. Finally, she takes pity on the three young princes and princess whose gaze remains firmly on their laps.
“Look at me,” she commanded and all of you obey instantly. This action seems to let a small smile loose on her face as your three heads jut up to her command reminds her of a small litter of puppies eager for their mother. But you are not pups.
“My three-headed dragon,” she calls to you all affectionately, before kissing your foreheads one at a time. Is there anything she won’t do for you? “I will handle this. Go to your rooms. We depart for Dragonstone in a day’s turn.”
Luce and Jace stand from your shared seats immediately, eager to leave while Rhaenyra grants them her good spirits. But not you. You remain in your thoughts, the impending dread of the destruction of your House brought by your own foolishness is heavy in your head. You feel even worse as you have left your mother to clean up your messes once again.
“Sweetling?” Rhaenyra calls and you look up to her. She smiles as you gently, with all the love splattered in her face as she jerks her head to the doors of her chamber. It was as if she was never angry in the first place. “You may go.”
“Wed me to Aemond.” Your demand comes fast but quiet, tumbling out of your mouth before you had even thought of what you have said. You were grasping straws, desperate to mend your House in the only way you knew how.
From his seat, Daemon had his arms resting on his knees as his fists joined to cover his mouth in contemplation. He has an eyebrow raised in surprise, but his eyes were elsewhere possibly considering the match. You appeal to him first.
“It is a peaceful option, to end the rift between the two families in our House,” you argue. “And I am of age, and so is he.”
“It is a good match,” Daemon concedes, looking up at Rhaenyra. You follow his eyes and you meet your mother gazing at you with pity or sadness in her eyes- you could not tell.
“Do you know what that means, sweetling?” She asks, her hand coming to hold your nape. “You’d have to stay here, in Kings Landing. You’d have to leave Dragonstone. You’d have to leave me.”
“Aemond and I were friends once,” you reply, recalling fond memories you had in this Keep with your cousins. Aemond had always been a kind, soft-spoken boy and though he definitely changed as the years passed by, you were certain he was still the child you befriended deep inside.
Still, you cannot ignore the looks he had given you at the dinner. You had been seated between Aegon and Luke, far from the end of the table where Aemond was but you felt his stare all night as you ate your meal. The few times you dared to look at him, he had already been looking back with a predatory stare.
There is a hunger in his gaze, like a hunter seizing his prey for capture. You hated how he made you feel so small, for you are every bit of a dragon as he is, if not more.
“He will be kind,” you insist, not believing it yourself. “And I…” You struggle to find the right words. “I am of excellent Valyrian heritage. The Queen and Aemond won’t see this offer as an insult.”
“This mess was created by the Queen and I. And now our children are paying for it,” Rhaenyra kisses your forehead again- longer this time, like she wanted to pour out all of the love she had for her only daughter out through the kiss. “I don’t deserve you. I shall talk to Alicent once the sun rises.” Her hands cradle your face, her thumb stroking your face. “Avy jorrāelan.”
I love you.
“Avy jorrāelan,” you reply.
-
As if tradition, ladies and lords, palace maids, stable boys and aspiring knights have all gathered within the main courtyard every morning in hopes to catch Ser Criston Cole and Aemond Targaryen spar on dirt and rubble. Today, even more people are gathered as the two men have been sparing with live steel. You watch with them today, not being able to catch any proper sleep last night.
The clink-clang sounds of steel swords are heard across the yard, creating a rhythm for the hymn of violence Ser Criston and Aemond are so fond of. You sense the fight coming to its end as Aemond’s shield is smashed by Ser Criston’s morning star. At the loss of his defense, Aemond charges with his sword, clashing and slashing while Ser Criston narrowly dodges. Aemond is slower today, you notice and you are soon proven right when Ser Criston manages to put his palm on Aemond’s chest. With a thud, Ser Criston pushed Aemond to the ground, dangling his morning star in front of the prince’s face. Aemond watches the spiked ball swing once, twice, before declaring his defeat.
“I yield.”
Despite the prince’s defeat, his audience shower him with scattered applause. With the fight coming to an end, so did its audience with servants scurrying back to their duties and ladies heading back to the keep. Some fawning ladies and knights chose to stay to discuss their admiration among themselves.
“Do not be discouraged, my prince,” called Ser Criston as he held out a hand to the fallen prince.
Aemond took it begrudgingly. “I am not discouraged.”
“But you are distracted.” Ser Criston says, matter-of-factly with a raised eyebrow.
From where you stand, you see Aemond clench his jaw in annoyance. He averts his face from Ser Criston’s judging glance to your direction. You see the exact moment his eye light up in fascination and curiosity to your presence.
“Niece,” Aemond greets, dusting off the dirt from his breeches. He looks at you similar to how he stared at you all night at dinner. “Have you come to watch how true swordsmen fight?”
You force yourself to smile, ignoring the obvious slight to your brothers’ inferior skills. “My prince,” you greet, looking at his form. Aemond had become tall- unimaginably taller than he ever was as a child. He carries himself confidently, but your eyes are quick. You stare at his upper arm, and the growing dark stain on his shirt. “Come, my prince, you are wounded. Let me treat you.”
Aemond humors you a dry smile. “You have quick eyes, my princess.”
You watch as his tall figure walks towards you, his long legs making the distance between you seem shorter. You turn and walk with Aemond on your heels following your every step. You have no doubt that his mouth is curled in that sly smirk, wondering what business did the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen have to do with him.
You could feel his curiosity grow as you led him to your solar. He sits comfortably on a chair while you stand, receiving the kit that your servant handed you. You quietly thank her and ask her to shut the door.
“I must say,” Aemond starts, looking around your solar in fascination. He relaxes on your chair like it is his solar he is in, not yours. “I am in confusion as to what I may have done to earn Princess Y/N Velaryon’s special attention.”
You ignore him, heading straight for the bowl of warm water placed beside him before dipping a rag in it. “You must remove your shirt for me to clean the wound,” you say.
Aemond holds your gaze for a moment before following your orders immediately. He shrugs off his tunic without looking away. With his shirt gone, you are greeted by the sight of his pale chest. You immediately take note of his broad shoulders, his arms, and the thin layer of sweat from his previous fight. Aemond is lean, but his physique was hardened by muscles gained from his mastery of the sword. You avert your eyes and try to not let it bother you.
It does, and he notices and responds with a smug smirk.
His arm, finally clear of any clothes, you dab your rag around the wound gently. “I have noticed that there has been a division between your family and mine,” you begin slowly, eyes darting to his face to gauge his reaction. “A division that you have suffered the consequences of the most.”
Aemond gives nothing away from his face but a calm and cool look. If he is in pain from the hot water and his wound, you cannot even tell. You wonder if he is stone cold silent from all the painful memories his brother and your brothers- and by extension you had caused.
No, you remind yourself. Aemond is not with his sister then one would have better chances finding him in your company than his brothers. However, you have always been torn apart by the family, always stuck in the middle as they fight in which you respond by turning a blind eye. You are complicit in his terrible childhood and the loss of his eye.
Still, you have always been polite and kind to Aemond. A bare minimum that he had cherished greatly after the lack of affection found in his family, to the point where your mother suspected Aemond harboring a childhood crush on you after he shyly gave you a red rose from the gardens before promptly running away.
Of course, every semblance of his affection died with the loss of his eye.
“You are angry, I understand that,” you continue, dabbing his wound gently still. “But I was wondering if you would find it within yourself to look past-”
“Look past?” His voice is sharp, but his face remains still. His eye, however, gives his anger away- a blazing violet that echoes the same dragon-like anger your mother had last night. “You ask me to forget that your brother stole my eye out of the goodness of my heart?”
“No,” you reply immediately. “You were both innocent children, but Lucerys should not have come out of that without consequences.”
Aemond tilts his head and leans closer to you. His violet eye searches your face challengingly. “And what do you offer?”
“Me.” Your voice rings out in your chamber as Aemond fails to reply with a sly retort. For the first time, a soft look of disbelief crosses his face. You reach to grasp his hand with your free palm, your mouth ready to list your reasons but before you could even touch him, Aemond had already grabbed your palm and pulled you to him.
“You?” He asked, a darkness filling his eyes. You do not know if he’s giddy or if he is mocking you. His grip on your hands are tight and you feel a tremble wash over you. “If you are to be my wife, you would be mine,” he reminds you.
Aemond’s tone is gentle but his intentions are anything but. You cannot help but swallow in nervousness, and Aemond’s eye follows your throat as the lump travels down. There is a danger lurking underneath your uncle, and he looks at you like he has won a game you did not even know you were playing.
“Yes, I would.” You agree. You try to shift your head to escape his gaze, but his hands capture your cheeks before you could even move. His fingers squish your face gently but with an unheard threat of harm if you dare to move again.
“Mine,” he whispers in awe at you, like he could not believe the possibility. “And what do your brothers think of that?”
“They-” you struggle to speak as his fingers squeeze your face. “They do not know.”
This news brings Aemond a small smile. This is the first time you have ever seen Aemond close to joy after the loss of his eye. “I could do anything to you if you were my wife. You would share my chambers, and my bed. You will bear my children. They surely would not like that, would they?” Aemond looks across the room as if fantasizing the displeasure on your brothers’ face or you growing his seed inside you- you do not know.
You feel his hands crawl to your face, cradling it almost lovingly. “And if I use you for my revenge?” Aemond whispers. “Would you offer me an eye for your brother’s debt, my lady?”
He does not wait for an answer when he continues. “Have you ever seen me without my eyepatch, my lady?”
It takes you a second to recover. You blink at him, wondering if you heard him right. You wring your hands nervously, unsure to where Aemond was getting at. “I can’t say I have, my prince.”
In an instant, his hand leaves your face and snatches his eyepatch off like it was poison before throwing the piece of leather on the ground in disgust. “And now?”
Aemond abruptly stands from his chair, and you are left to scramble away. It was like he was challenging you with the sight of his eyes. You take a step back as Aemond steps forward, leaning down on you to make sure you have a good look at the long jagged line that runs across his left side, and the sapphire that replaced his eye.
You struggle to keep your eyes on Aemond’s bare face as his sudden closeness makes you realize that he still is shirtless. If you tilt your head down, you would be met by his pale chest and if he moves any closer your nose would soon touch it.
“Would you still offer yourself to me, little lady?” Aemond asks. “Even with my sapphire eye?”
A sudden boldness overcomes you. “Are you trying to scare me, my prince?” You tiptoed to his height, leaning in as close as you dared, until your nose had brushed his. You look at him unfalteringly meeting the gaze of his eye and jewel.
“If I am to be your wife, my Valyrian eye is yours by right,” you jerk your head to the right, gesturing to your purple eye. Aemond looks unfazed at your bold declaration, choosing to remain still and stare at you but you see him steal a glance at the right side of your face.
Finally, you take a step back, removing yourself from his personal space and head to the kit your made gave you to get a slave. You turn to face Aemond again, only to find him seated back in the chair.
“My mother is with yours now,” you tell him, scooping a generous amount of salve on your fingers before spreading it across his wound. “No doubt trying to convince her of the possibility of our union. I just wanted to let you hear it from my lips first.”
As if on cue a knock echoes throughout your solar before a maid from Queen Alicent’s staff pops her head in your rooms. She curtsies before she says, “My lady, my prince, the Queen and the Princess have summoned you to the Queen’s solar.”
Before you could respond, Aemond was already walking out the door, eyepatch already back on his head. His arms move to wear his tunic back on. “Let’s go.”
This time, it is Aemond who leads the way as you follow.
-
“Prince Aemond and Princess Y/N, your Grace,” announced the maid as you and Aemond entered.
This is not the first time you have entered Alicent’s solar. The space is often filled with her attendants, as Helaena and her children and Aemond are often inside. Today it is only the Queen Alicent and your mother occupying the solar.
They sit in front of the fireplace to warm them in this cool morning, and a jug of wine on the side.
The Queen and the princess sport wide smiles and a faint blush on their cheeks from drinking.
The ambiance of the room is joyous. Rhaenyra’s head is thrown back from laughter as Alicent’s head is bowed down trying to stifle her giggles. You have never seen your mother look so carefree before, not with your father, nor with Daemon. Thus it baffles you further to see the Queen and the Princess of Dragonstone so comfortable with each other.
Almost hidden behind their thick gowns, you spot their hands interlocked. You turn to the side to meet Aemond’s equally curious stare.
“Oh!” Alicent spots you first. “There you are.”
Rhaenyra turns in your direction at Alicent’s voice. Your mother stands and walks to you, wrapping her hand on the side of your head as she kisses your temple. “Sweet girl,” she coos at you quietly.
“Viserys drones on and on about how she mirrors Alyssa, but she is Laenor through and through,” comments Alicent as her eyes roam your figure up and down. Beside her, Aemond has taken your mother’s seat beside the Queen.
Rhaenyra chuckles warmly. “If you ask me, I find that she is an echo of you, your Grace. Kind, dutiful, beautiful…” She trails off and shakes her head before gesturing to Aemond. “Your son echoes you the most though.”
Alicent looks at Aemond with a fond smile. It is obvious whose child the Queen favors. Out of all the Queen’s children, none have grown to look like her, except perhaps Aemond. He seems like an eerie mirror of his mother’s father with Valyrian coloring, but his eyes and smile are all Alicent’s. “Ah, yes,” she muses. “But his temperament mirrors you, Rhaenyra.”
A foreign look of regret slips on your mother's face like a mask. “Gods help this realm if I were born a man,” your mother whispers. “The things I would have done.”
Alicent and Rhaenyra share a sad knowing look. There is a longing in your mother’s words a deep, old, painful tone. The Queen looks at your mother almost regrettably but filled with affection all the same. The moment feels intimate to both of them, perhaps recalling their childhood when they held each other close to their hearts.
Never have you seen your mother look so vulnerable to anyone, much more in front of the Queen she resents. A quick glance at Aemond shows that this side of Alicent is new to him too.
The moment is quickly broken by Alicent. She clasps her hands together on her lap. “I assume that both of you know the matter of why I have summoned you here?”
You nod at your Queen while Aemond confirms dutifully, “Yes, mother.”
Alicent turns in her seat to regard her son. “I admit I have already consented to the match, but it is your opinion that I value the most. What say you, Aemond?”
Aemond takes a deep breath, his single eye sliding over to look at your mother behind you and finally at you. You know his act of pondering is false. You knew his answer as soon as you felt his gaze at the dinner table, and confirmed it at the glint of his eye when you had offered yourself. You wonder if he is repeating your offer in his head, the promise of your whole being, and your eye if he wishes it.
“I shall do my duty,” came Aemond’s response with a passive face.
Alicent smiles at her son proudly. “Congratulations, Aemond. You will be a fine husband, I know it.” She turns her head to you, “And to you, Y/N. This union is welcome and the realm shall rejoice when it is announced.”
Aemond is before you in an instant, holding out his hand for yours in which you had no choice but to give it. To your surprise, your betrothed merely raises it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “My lady.”
The touch of his lips on your hand jolts you awake and makes your heart skip a beat- from fear or from romance you do not know. A nervous smile spreads itself on your face nonetheless. “My prince.”
“Come,” your mother says, heading for the door. “We must tell Daemon and your brothers of this news.”
The mention of your brothers makes Aemond look more sly as he stares at you to leave. You curtsy to the Queen and now to your betrothed before following Rhaenyra.
“Rhaenyra,” Alicent’s voice rings out.
You see your mother hitch a breath before turning swiftly. “Yes, my Queen?”
“Stay,” Alicent asks, and suddenly it was like the two of them were alone in the room once more. Both Alicent and Rhaenyra were dead to the world when they looked at each other so fondly. There is heavy tension in the air, but different from the fraying truce of last night’s dinner. No one is on guard or cautious. It strangely feels like home. It is healing. “Even for a couple of weeks. The matter is resolved, there is no reason for you to return to Dragonstone so promptly.”
A genuine smile spread on Rhaenyra’s face and she had never looked so happy. “I’d like that.”
A smile tries to spread on Alicent’s face, but she turns around before it grows fully. “You are dismissed.”
-
alicent and rhaenyra: hahaha our children remind us of each other what if they get married
i firmly believe that is rhaenyra was born a boy or if westeros is lgbt friendly, she would have chosen alicent as her wife in a heartbeat.
did you enjoy this fic? check out my masterlist
13K notes · View notes
tomriddleslovergirl · 3 months
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House of the Dragon characters x Sick!Reader
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Alicent makes sure you have everything that you need & that you're comfortable.
She'll tuck you into bed when it's time for you to sleep, fluff out your pillows, and feeds you herself.
She prays every night & makes her children pray before every meal to wish you a quick recovery.
Alicent would rather no one visits you while your sick - especially Rhaenyra - because she doesn't want anyone to disturb you or for the sickness to spread.
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Helaena likes to sit next to your bed and embroider, comfortable listening to your breathing while you rest.
She'll embroider a bug that reminds her of you in hopes to make you feel better.
When she can't visit you, she'll leave one of her bug friends to keep you company :)
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Aegon can't stay away from you even when your sick.
He doesn't care if he also catches your fever.
He'll sleep on the same bed as you & try to cuddle with you, even when you tell him not to, worried that he'll also get sick.
Alicent has kicked him out of your chambers multiple times, scolding him not to bother you.
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Aemond likes to read to you. Preferably stories about the Targaryen Ancestors.
He'd sit next to your bed while you sleep, so he can make sure nothing will happen to you during the night. One of the candles will be left lit so he can read one of his history books.
If you refuse to take your medicine the maester had given you, Aemond bribes you with rides on Vhagar.
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Rhaenyra & Daemon usually visit you together.
Daemon will sit in a chair close to your bed, while Rhaenyra sits on the bed.
Rhaenyra will tell tell you about the gossip she's heard in court while Daemon brushes your hair off of your sweaty forehead - he keeps it there almost the whole visit.
They'd both get really stressed if you weren't getting better - but worse.
Especially Daemon after what's happened with his brother.
Daemon will threaten the maester. If the maester can't help you get better, he'll find someone who will.
Rhaenyra is more patient and will try calm Daemon down.
895 notes · View notes
targaryen-dynasty · 26 days
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ENCOURAGEMENT.
Daemon Targaryen x little sister!Reader
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It's 105 AC. Your brother, King Viserys, wants to throw a feast in honor to announce his wife's pregnancy. You want to attend—if it weren't for the rising doubts about your changing body. But it's good your husband knows a way to ease your worries.
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister), mirror sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, female and pregnant reader, lactation, lactation kink, nipple play
WORDS: 2.5 K
NOTES: Thank you for betaing this sweet thing, @happilyhertale! 🤍
❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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Frustration brings you to the point you stand completely bare in front of the large mirror that’s been brought into your chambers by the servants, looking at your reflection. To the right hangs a black gown, and to the left a more reddish one. And neither of the two will fit over your swollen curves, you just know by looking at it.
You’ve scared off your ladies-in-waiting a few minutes ago, usually soft-spoken you experiencing an emotional outburst that just called for you to be left alone.
Nearing the six moon mark of your first pregnancy has left your body with scars and marks around your rounded belly and swollen breasts, some even teetering down the insides of your thighs. And yet, when you look at your husband strolling into your martial chambers with not more than a large cloth hanging around his hips, his scarred chest on full display, you can only admire him for wearing them with so much confidence.
But not even your own doubts can stop your eyes from stealing glances, his toned physique managing to put your mind at ease for once. Trailing your eyes over the expanse of his scarred chest down to the dark trail of hair that ends deep below the cloth that conceals most of it. However, it only poorly hides the way his half-hard member prods against the linen with each step he makes towards you.
He makes no secret out of the way his lilac eyes all but devour your body and its curves, although your belly is not yet as swollen as Aemma’s was when she was with Rhaenyra. The pregnancy has made you even more of a woman, and knowing he’s the one responsible for it makes him feel proud but also quite possessive.
“What is it?” he asks, his gravelly voice sending a chill down your spine.
Daemon eventually comes to a stop with his tall frame looming over yours from behind, fingers trailing over your side in an uncharacteristically tender and gentle manner. Every inch of your reflection is devoured by his greedy eyes. “We do not have to attend the feast, you know,” he says. “I wouldn’t dream of depriving myself of the pleasure of spending time with my wife.”
As he bows his head forward to press his lips to your shoulder, the soft strands of his silver hair tickle your skin, making you lean into his embrace and him reaching around you to splay a hand over your swollen belly.
“But I want to go. It’s the feast in honor of the queen announcing her pregnancy, and our brother will be cross with us if we do not attend,” you pout at him. “I just… I just don’t know which dress to choose.”
Daemon, however, knows full well that you’re being less than honest with him about your reluctance to go to the feast, becoming obvious when he starts to trace his fingers over the marks running across the underside of your bump. “That truly is a conundrum,” he says.
Sighing loudly, you try to escape his fingers by leaning further against him. But the friction your rear causes against the cloth is enough to loosen its tie, allowing it to fall to the ground.
The both of you are completely bare now, and he wastes no time in pressing his hard cock snugly into the crevice of your arse, making his desire for you more than clear.
“Let us forget the dresses for now. You know you’ll look ravishing no matter what you wear,” Daemon drawls, running a hand along your side. “Besides, why not allow me to appreciate every inch of you… no dresses involved.”
It sounds far too tempting… if you were in the mood. But with you struggling with your changing body for quite some time now, the thought of unraveling for him discourages you even more. “We do not have time,” you try to protest.
Much to your surprise, your usually insolent husband listens to your words.
“I think you’ll find that we have plenty of time, my love,” he mumbles, taking a step back with his hands raised in defeat. “The time we spend together would be much better than the time spent amongst a bunch of prudes at a feast.”
Not paying a mind to his words, you just nod appreciatively, and bring your attention back to the two gowns still hanging next to the mirror. Perhaps you can make the black one work with the laces tied extra loosely, and you only present at the feast for no longer than two hours.
Daemon stalks around you to stand next to the mirror, shamelessly dragging his eyes over your naked form and watching you inspect one of the dresses.
“Do you not have to dress yourself, husband?” you ask, pinching the fabric of the black dress between your fingers, trying not to pay too much attention to him. But his gaze is intense, burning straight through your skin, and making your body heat up.
You meet his eyes, cocking an eyebrow.
“There is a more important matter for me to tend to,” he objects.
“What are you–” you’re interrupted when your husband grabs the sides of the mirror and hoists it up, bringing it closer to your marital bed.
Turning on your heels, you watch him adjust it and eventually sit down on the bed with both feet planted firmly on the ground. The confusion must be evident on your features, because without a question uttered, Daemon pats his sturdy thigh and parts his legs, silently beckoning you over with a come-hither motion of his fingers.
The sight alone is alluring, his thick cock resting hard and heavy between his thighs, covered in an angry red and aching to be buried inside of you. But wanting to find out what he’s in mind is what brings you closer to him.
You move to climb his lap, wanting to sit astride him like you sit on Silverwing, but Daemon beats you to it. He scoots back slightly and brings his paws to your hips, turning you around. He pulls you back to sit down in the space between his parted legs.
When his hands hook beneath your knees to drape them over his thighs, inevitably exposing yourself to him, you instinctively lean back against him to adjust to the position.
You want to squeeze your thighs together, to hide from him, but his legs stop you from doing so. He brings a hand up to cup your full breast, squeezing lightly and testing the weight and shape of it. They’re full of milk by now, providing for your unborn child, and hard and heavy to the touch.
Pressing his lips to the curve of your shoulder, you tilt your head to the side, not daring to watch your fully exposed reflection in the mirror. You’ve been bare around him the whole time, and he’s fucked you in ways that would bring a blush to certain people’s faces, but something in the current position and your growing insecurities makes you more vulnerable right now.
Daemon adjusts his fingers so that your taut bud pops up between them, and just a bit of pressure is already enough to coax droplets of your milk to spill from it. Your breathing grows heavy, more so because it’s already enough friction to ease some of the tormenting tension.
“I want to see you full and lovely and large, swollen with my seed and carrying my child,” he mutters against your skin. His other hand comes up to cup your chin, pushing your head forwards to all but force you to look at yourself. “And I want you to watch as I worship that precious body of yours.”
The hand on your chin settles at your throat, not squeezing it but tight enough for it to be a warning for you not to move. The other hand releases your breast and trails down to the apex of your legs. It all happens agonizingly slowly, tracing and following every scar that runs along the curve of your bump, until it finally finds your cunt.
As his fingers drag through it, even your husband can’t seem to stop himself from moaning. “You’re weeping for me, my love,” he rasps, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “So beautiful.” Withdrawing his fingers, they’re glistening with your arousal, connected by faint strings of it as he spreads his fingers.
You whimper, and dip your head back far enough for him to capture your lips. The kiss is sloppy, matching the rhythm he sets up as his fingers trace your cunt.
Daemon hums in approval as you pull away from him to look into the mirror, watching the exact moment his deft fingers ease into you. You gasp at the motion, and put all your weight back against him, melting into his embrace with his muscular arms around you.
There’s a pout on your lips when the pressure of his fingers leaves you again, used to spread apart your folds instead. In the reflection you see his dark blown eyes fixed on nothing else than what lies between your legs, his hard cock throbbing against your lower back as you clench around nothing. “Look how beautiful you look all spread out and ready for me, my love.”
Trying to squeeze your thighs shut, his hand comes from your throat to clasp around one, keeping you spread open for him. “Oh, don’t you dare,” he warns, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
With the heel of his hand pressing snugly against your pearl now, you can’t help but whimper as his fingers enter you again. The pace is slow and languid, making clear that neither of you is in a hurry tonight. It’s all about you.
“Seven hells, just look at you,” he coos against the side of your face, tip of his nose nudging your cheek. He clearly enjoys the confidence you slowly start to muster as his praises go straight to your head, coaxing you to rock your hips against his hand. “You truly have no idea of how much I desire you. Always.”
His words bring another wave of crimson to your cheeks, running down your neck and chest. It’s heaving with all the heavy breaths you inhale, and your taut buds have not softened since he touched them. If everything, his words and gestures have coaxed a few beads of milk to ooze from both, running down the curve of your breasts.
Reaching behind you, your hand rests at the back of his head, entangling into his long, silver hair. “Daemon–” you whimper, but he’s quick to silence you.
“Shush now,” he rasps. “Just enjoy and observe.”
And you certainly do, watching his fingers pump in and out of you as if it’s the most enthralling thing you’ve ever seen.
When he’s sure you’ll keep your legs spread for him, he brings his hand to your full breast again, groping and squeezing it, pinching the little bud to tease even more milk to spill from it.
It’s so much coming together at once. His praise goes straight to your head, making it hazy and longing for more, while liquid fire courses through your veins, ignited by the skilled ministrations of his fingers.
Daemon seems to sense your impending peak, and is determined to work you toward the sweet relief you so desperately crave.
The pace of his fingers increases now, fingers repeatedly brushing the sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision blurry. Pleasure soars through your body, and eventually is enough to snap the familiar knot inside of your belly. And that’s also the moment you can’t watch yourself any longer. The pleasure grows to the point you have to close your eyes to be able to thoroughly enjoy it. But your husband doesn’t seem to mind.
“There you go,” he coos, not slowing down the pace of his hands. “Such a good girl.”
Your walls convulse all over Daemon’s fingers, and with you releasing the sweetest and most desperate sounds your husband has heard in a while, he’s sure he could’ve peaked on spot, more so with the vice-like grip you have on his long hair.
His hand works you through the waves of euphoria, just slightly slowing down, and while your mind doesn’t process some of the praises he mumbles against your skin, your body does; with a renewed wave of arousal dripping out of your cunt.
It’s surprising that the pleasure doesn’t get replaced by overstimulation, especially with just how little time he gives you to recover until he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a harsher pace again.
“Gods be good,” you whimper, tipping your head back against his shoulder. Your hand releases his hair and instead you grab his forearm with both, clinging onto it for dear life.
“One more for me, you’re doing so good.”
You have barely time to process the first peak and its repercussions when the second washes over you in an ambush, striking you like lightning. It’s not as intense as the first, but prolonged with his other hand now frantically rubbing your pearl.
“Shh, just let it happen,” he purrs, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek as you struggle against him.
It takes just a few more pumps of his hand until the pleasure subsides, only leaving a wave of bliss in its wake. Daemon’s hands both stop their ministrations, and you finally feel as though you’re able to breathe again.
As you open your eyes, you see him lick the remnants of your arousal off his fingers, before they tease your buds again, gathering some of your milk to lick off of them as well.
Whimpering and whining at the touch, you just slowly catch your breath. He soothes you by snaking both arms around your form, cupping your swollen belly, and presses gentle kisses to the side of your face.
“You’re an absolute vision in this state, and I do not wish for you to ever doubt that,” he mutters against your skin. “You look more desirable carrying my child, than any other woman does in their most provocative dress.”
Releasing a soft chuckle, you turn your head and capture his lips with yours. A chaste peck is not what he has anticipated, but he’s still happy that he was able to lift your spirits.
“Kirimvose, ñuha jorrāelagon,” you whisper. “Care to help me with the black dress?” Thank you, my love.
“Oh, I will,” Daemon says with a teasing lilt in his voice. He grabs you by the waist and carefully hoists you up, but when he lies you down on your back, you know you won’t be getting into the dress so soon. “But I think I need just a little more time to get fully into the spirit of the occasion.”
The moment he climbs on the bed to kiss his way over your marks and curves, you squeal and squirm, entangling your hands into his hair again.
Viserys can never be angry with you two for long anyway.
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'THE CONQUEROR REBORN' [ Aegon's version ]
"It became a bitter competition in Aegon's mind against his own sister-wife, for Roselyn. No matter what, it always felt like he was on the losing end. He could give Roselyn the finest of gowns and things, and yet it never came close to the stupid trinkets Helaena gave her. He would have her and her heart. He would find a way to make it happen."
[ I commissioned this from seasmoked on tiktok / wattpad ] 📖: THE CONQUEROR REBORN ( published ) 🖋: -iamagoddess ( wattpad ) ❤: Aegon ii Targaryen & Helaena Targaryen 👥: Roselyn Tully-Hightower & Aegon ii Targaryen
this is for you my fellow TGC simp's
@lovelykhaleesiii
@fragileheartbeats
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the-fiction-witch · 24 hours
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The Hem Of Her Dress
Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Y/n (Maid) Rating - Smut Word Count - 698
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I ran my hand through my silver hair as I sat in a small chamber in the red keep, locked away from my mother, my wife, my children, my grandfather the hand of anyone who wanted anything from me, just me alone with my wine watching the grass below the keep.
I just need something to take my mind off this shit- the wine was admittedly helping, 
I glanced out across the courtyard seeing the various lines of laundry hung around to dry in the wind from the sea, I saw a girl down there.
I had seen her a few times in passing, she knelt on the grass in her lace-up boots, a maid dress with the typical white apron around her, Her hair braided and pinned up around her head, her bottom lip between her teeth, in her hands the sheets as she scrubbed and washed them in the bucket in front of her. Water had soaked her hands and her apron and dress making it cling to her far more than it would normally, and as she was scrubbing these sheets up and down a washboard her breasts slightly bounced or at least shifted as she moved, far more noticeable when usual. 
I looked at her for a while just watching her wash and scrub away, biting my lip a little as I watched her,
She looked up and we briefly made eye contact I didn’t even bother to look away and try to pretend that I wasn't looking, at her. She saw me, she knew. 
She briefly playfully giggled and went back to her work, I continued to watch her and she would often meet my eyes making a point to give me a very wicked look with raised eyebrows but I simply gave her a look back with a sly smile, She rolled her eyes and continued her work almost ignoring me and I had to admit it made me kinda... I guess jealous, it made me want her to look at me, want her to notice me, but I knew she was just teasing me. 
She got up to hang the sheet she had been washing on the line standing up and pegging it on the line beside her, She briefly made eye contact and I raised my eyebrow a little questionably she checked around the courtyard doing her best to glance around and check no one would see her. she dried her hands on her dress as she moved away from the sheet on the line, she giggled and made eye contact she grabbed her dress in her hand and lifted the hem of her dress all the way up to her waist exposing her almost knee high lace up black boots, her bare slightly paler skin where her legs never see the sun, her bare knees, her bare thighs, her hips and of course her mound and pussy. 
I took in every single inch of her, rather amused by her willingness, She's beautiful, alluring and somehow even with her pussy exposed to me rather mysterious, as she stands there exposed with a wicked and get still innocent smile, fluttering her eyes to only make brief eye contact,
I bit my lip harder taking in every inch of her feeling myself get hard for her forcing me to shift a little where sitting was now uncomfortable thanks to the throbbing erection in my trousers, which she noticed and giggled dropping her dress she took her now empty basket in hand setting it on her hip. 
She smiled put her palm to her lips kissed it and blew me the kiss, I smirked and blew her a kiss back before then using my hand to curl my finger to beckon her up to my little room she curtsied and nodded before she headed inside leaving me only to wait and see if she really would come up and keep me company. 
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multific · 3 months
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Moonlight 
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Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Wife!Reader
Warnings: childbirth (no detailed description)
Summary: Aemond loves his little wife, so naturally, when you give birth to your first son, Aemond falls in love even deeper. However, when a simple refusal of his breaks your heart, it will be difficult for him to win you back.
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It was hard to keep you close. You were much like Aemond, a true fighter. You had a fire in you which couldn't be questioned. A fire towards him, pure love. And now, fire towards your son.
Aeren was only born a week ago, yet you protected him fiercely like a dragon.
And you refused to let the small child out of your hands.
When Aemond was allowed in the room, he saw the blood, he heard your screams and many times, he wanted to barge in but he knew he couldn't.
So, once he was allowed in, someone informed him that it was a boy and that you were in bad shape. 
Aemond could see it, you looked beyond tired, yet you smiled.
But your smile didn't last long.
Aemond refused to hold his son. 
"Give him to me." he heard your voice as he looked from the woman holding his son to you. You looked angry. Way too angry.
It was too late when Aemond realised what he had just done.
He refused to hold his own child.
And since then, you didn't speak a word to him.
You slept in a different room with your baby, sometimes, late at night, he heard the cries. He wanted to get up and go to you but he couldn't, his guilt was overbearing. 
"You should put a leash on her, brother. If I had a wife like that, she wouldn't be sleeping in another room." Aegon taunted his brother daily. 
One day, you were in the gardens, walking with your son in your arms when Aegon spoke up.
Aemond never heard his brother speak with such longing.
"I truly wish she was mine." 
Aemond looked at his brother who was watching you.
"But she's mine." was his simple and firm reply.
But you truly weren't.
You used to be, now, you just sat next to him during dinners. 
One night, you excused yourself, and he followed you.
In an empty corridor, he spoke up.
"Why are you avoiding me?" he knew why. He very well knew why.
"I'm sorry, My Prince." you turned and looked at him. "I believe you are mistaken. I'm not avoiding you, I just hate to see the disappointment on your face." this surprised Aemond. "I gave birth to a child you refused to even look at. I loved you, Prince Aemond, I truly did. But I love my child more. And if you cannot look at him, you won't get to look at me. Fill your bed with whores for all I care. Goodnight." 
"You are mistaken." he said, not letting you leave, but you did grab the handle. "You-You were in that bed, crying, screaming and bleeding for hours. I couldn't do anything. And when they let me in, the blood... so much... they told me you were weak, you survived but you needed a lot of rest. How-How could I hold my child when the love of my life almost died? How could I look at him when I was worried to even look at you? I feared you would die giving birth. I was shaking. I feared losing you and my child. That is why I didn't hold him. I was scared." you stood there, your hand on the door, you looked away from his eyes.
"Then you could have just fucking say so, Aemond! For fucks sake!"
"That is not very lady-like."
"FUCK lady-like, you made me believe you hate me and our son! I believed I disappointed you since you wanted a daughter."
"I said I would be happy either way. My emphasis was on a girl because I feared if you had a daughter, you would see that as disappointing my bloodline."
"You are fucking terrible at communicating." you opened the door and walked into the huge room in which you stayed the last couple of weeks.
Aemond followed you, and watched as you walked over to the small bed and picked up your son. "Next time, you should just tell me. Letting me assume things clearly don't work out." 
"Of course." a small smile found its way onto his lips, next time, it was the promise of a future, a promise of more, something he could work towards. He walked over to you after closing the door. "I wish to hold him." you handed him the small child who didn't even stir in his sleep. "Aeren you named him I recall." Aemond's attention was now fully on his son as you decided to leave the two alone after watching them for a couple of minutes.
You got changed and when you arrived back, Aemond was sitting on the bed, his son on his chest.
"Some nights I heard his cries. It broke my heart but I broke yours far more. I apologise for not being clear and for causing you pain. I am truly sorry."
"I'm sorry as well. I should have asked." you said as you sat down next to him. "I will have to feed him soon."
"I will stay here with you."
You smiled as the moon shined through the window, illuminating the room a little more, helping the fire so you could see your husband's face.
"I love you so much Aemond."
"I love you too, My Queen." you giggled, moving closer to him as he leaned down to kiss you.
You two kissed in the moonlight until your son made it clear that he was hungry.
It all made you look towards a better future.
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aemondsbabe · 2 months
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Come What May
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summary: aemond gets his first true taste of battle, you comfort him in the aftermath.
pairing: aemond targaryen x baratheon!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is described as having long black hair to suit baratheon standards but no other physical descriptors are used, spoilers, mentions of canon character injury but no gore, angst, breast/nipple play, fingering, oral (f receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, slight possessive aemond, soft aemond, vulnerable aemond, we love men who cry
word count: 5.8k
a/n: i've had this idea in my head for the longest time and i think it turned out much more delicious than i was expecting! hope you all enjoy!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource
divider creds to @targaryen-dynasty
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“My love, surely Ser Criston can hold his own,” you plead, wringing your hands nervously as your husband reads from the small scroll that was delivered to your chambers only moments ago, “It’s already been days, surely if they were going to retaliate, they would’ve done so by now.”
“We made the mistake of underestimating my sweet sister and her traitorous lot once before,” Aemond sighs, lilac eye scanning over the rolled parchment once more before before holding a corner of it to one of the many dripping wax candles housed on the small desk in your rooms, “It’s an error we can never afford to make again, not after what happened to little –” The muscles in his jaw clench as he cuts himself off with another harsh sigh, tossing the burning paper into a small metal bowl before turning to you. 
“It’s an official summons,” he continues, voice softer now as he swiftly crosses the room until he stands before you. “I can’t simply ignore the Hand, nor my brother,” he murmurs, pulling a sigh from your lips as his hands wrap around your waist. You let your eyes slip closed for a moment when he leans down and presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head before resting his forehead against yours, your own hands gripping tightly to the front of his black tunic. 
“I understand,” you say softly, swallowing thickly as you try to ignore the tightness at the back of your throat, a million unsettling what if’s playing in your mind's eye, “I just want you to come b-back to me.” 
Upon hearing the break in your voice, Aemond pulls away with a tight smile. “Shh, little wife,” he whispers, gently wiping at the corner of your eyes as tears begin to gather, “I will return to you, I swear it.”
A slight flush covers the apples of your cheeks as you peer up at him, still so cautious of being weepy and emotional so soon into your marriage despite the prince’s many assurances that he was more than happy to have you exactly how you are. After a moment, you manage to blink the tears from your eyes and steady your breath, giving your husband a reassuring nod just as the doors open and a flood of servants and squires rush in to assist Aemond with his armor. 
Leaving them be, you step out onto the balcony of your chambers, grateful for the cooling breeze rolling in from Blackwater Bay. Resting your hands atop the rough stone wall, you gaze out over the calm waters, watching as the sun rises and paints them in shades of orange and pink. Each time you spot a stray seagull, your heart clenches tightly in your chest – worried for a moment that it’s Meleys and her rider, come to finish what they started at Aegon’s coronation. 
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You startle as rough hands wrap around your middle from behind, a small gasp leaving you as your eyes pop open, seeing the sun a bit higher in the sky now before you look over your shoulder. 
“Dare I ask where your pretty head was?”
“Praying,” you answer your husband with a smile, turning in his grasp, “Asking the Seven to protect you, to bring you back to me in one piece.” 
Chuckling, Aemond tenderly cups your jaw with one hand, the smooth leather of his glove soft against your skin. “I assure you they will,” he says, dipping his head and kissing you with a small sigh, the metal plate armor on his torso cool against your skin, even through the fabric of your nightgown. “I do not fear this battle, sweetling, not with Vhagar at my side – she has more years of experience fighting in wars than either of us could dare imagine, many more than that old cunt or her beast. I trust her to know what’s right.”
Nodding, you follow him inside, a small smile on your lips while you listen to him talk about his dragon, finding endless amusement in the way he always speaks of her with such reverence. The two of you stand together in the low, flickering light of the many candles in your chambers, the early morning light from the drawn curtains casts faint shadows across the room as you look over your husband, unused to seeing him in true armor. 
“I suppose you’re ready, then?” You ask, glancing over the fine black plates, each custom made to hug his lithe form perfectly. 
“Almost,” he says, the corners of his lips quirk into a small smile in the same instance that familiar, mirthful glimmer takes residence in his eye. 
“Oh?” You question, already familiar with where this is going; the smile on your lips only grows as he takes your hand and leads you over to your vanity table by the wardrobes. 
“Braid my hair,” he says, always one to keep his requests of you simple, “As you do before I go riding… please.”
It’s the small please that always gets you, a courtesy Aemond so rarely bestows upon others. With a small nod, you watch as he sits on the small silk-covered chair, his lilac eye watching you from the mirror as you lean forward to grab the ornate metal hairbrush Alicent had gifted you after your wedding to her son. 
Meeting his eye in the mirror once more, you give him a small smile before focusing on his hair. You run the brush through the pale, silky strands with a practiced ease; before you, the prince hadn’t dared to let anyone do his hair, and was quick to snap at any of the servants if they tried. But with you, he was quite different – much more vulnerable behind closed doors than many would expect. 
Glancing up in the mirror as you brush through his long hair, the smile returns to your lips when you see his eye closed, a small sigh leaving his lips as he allows himself to relax for a moment more. It’s easy to fall into a rhythm in the quiet of the early morning, your hands steady as you run the fine brush through section after section of hair, humming a song to yourself as you go. 
Finally, you set the brush back down and carefully section off a lock of hair at one of his temples, already knowing how he usually preferred it be styled. Just as you have it separated into three sections, however, one of his hands closes around yours and you lift your eyes up to his in the mirror.
“Is something the matter?”
“No, no,” he replies softly, his one eye glancing away from you, almost nervously, “I simply have a favor to ask of you, my lady. Something I’ve been unable to get off my mind, not since the threat of war became real.”
“Ask it, then.”
With a small sigh, Aemond turns in the chair, moving to face you as he takes your hands once more, calloused thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of them. “I know it is a strange request but… I would like a lock of your hair, sweet one, to braid into my own.”
Your brows knit together at his words, having not expected a request such as that, and your head tilts to the side questioningly, “I see no problem with doing it, but may I ask why?”
“I am not a superstitious man, as you well know,” he starts, smiling when you nod along with his words, “However, I have come to think of you as a good luck charm, of sorts.”
“A good luck charm?” You echo, a little blush coloring your cheeks as a shy smile tugs at your lips, your heart racing at the thought of being something so precious.
Aemond squeezes your hands and nods, “These past few moons have been difficult, between my brother adjusting to the crown and everyone else shuffling about, and the horrors that my sweet sister endures, little Jaehaerys, the numerous threats from Dragonstone, everything, I…” He pauses, brows furrowing as he stares at the stone floor, jaw clenched. 
Your heart clenches in your chest as you raise a hand to his cheek, thumb stroking over the scarred skin just below his sapphire eye, the sight of it mystical to you even after so many months spent with him. Studying his face, you can’t help but notice the darkness under his eyes, a product of the many restless nights he’s faced, though a small sad smile claws at your lips as he leans into your touch – eye closing briefly as he savors it, practically purring like a housecat. 
“Your presence has been the only thing that brings me comfort,” he murmurs finally, lilac eye peering up at you as he makes no move to lean away from your touch, “I find my spirits lift when I’m around you – your touch, your sweet scent, they… they calm my mind, steady my heart.”
“Oh, Aemond,” you breathe, heart racing in your chest at his words. 
“I would like a piece of you with me always,” he continues, lilac eye brimming with sincerity, “To calm me when you’re away.”
You’re nodding before he can even finish his sentence, “Of course, my love, of course we can do that.” You sniffle, trying your hardest to keep your emotions at bay as the backs of your eyes sting with love-filled tears. 
Again, Aemond watches as you quickly walk over to the small side table where you keep your needlework supplies. Shuffling through the small woven basket they’re stored in, you locate the small scissors used to cut thread and make your way back over to the vanity. 
Bending at the waist a little, you look into the mirror, briefly meeting your husband’s eye again as you select a small lock of hair toward the back of your head, one that will be easily hidden among the rest as it grows back. With practiced motions, you quickly knot the fine strand into a thin braid before getting the scissors as close to your scalp as you dare. You carefully cut away at it until it comes away, the bundle of strands clutched tightly between two of your fingers. 
Returning the scissors to the basket, you grab a small bundle of thread, close to the same dark color of your hair, and return to the prince, quickly tying off both ends of the braid before holding it up with a small smile. 
“Good?”
“Good.”
Quickly taking your place by Aemond, you once again separate a lock of his hair into thirds, adding your own strand to the mix before easily winding them together in a long, silvery braid, the black of your own hair standing out strikingly against your husband’s. Finally, you gather the rest of his hair into its usual half up and half down style, thick braid skirting down one side of his head before joining the rest as you secure it with a thin leather cord. 
“There,” you breathe, stepping back just enough for Aemond to stand, “All done.” 
“Perfect as usual, sweetling,” the prince smiles, tight lipped, “Thank you.” He murmurs, again, a courtesy reserved for you.
“Of course,” you all but whisper, both you and Aemond pausing as you stare at one another, neither of you wanting to say goodbye first. 
You nearly jump out of your skin as a knock interrupts the moment, both of your heads swiveling to the doors of your chambers as they creak open. 
Ser Willis Fell, a member of Aegon’s Kingsguard steps into the room, bowing politely as he addresses you both. “Prince, Princess,” he says curtly, one hand balanced on the pommel of the sword that hangs from his waist, “I apologize for the intrusion, I’ve been instructed to inform the prince that he is to depart for Rook’s Rest immediately – King Aegon is already waiting at the Dragonpit.”
Aemond nods with a heavy sigh, turning back to you. Before he can get a word in, you practically throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as the doors click closed once more. “Please come back to me,” you breathe against the crook of his neck, tightness once again taking residence at the back of your throat as his arms wind around you, one hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back. 
“I will, my sweet girl, I swear it,” he promises lowly, long arms squeezing him to you as tight as he dares, not wanting to bruise your skin against his armor, “I swear upon the Seven I’ll come back, I will not leave you, I refuse.” 
Nodding, your breath catches in your throat as you slip away from him, just enough to angle your face up to his. His eye glances over your face quickly before he presses his lips against yours, both of you desperate to pour as much emotion into the kiss as you can as your lips move together for a moment. 
Finally, he pulls away with a pained sigh, holding your face in his hands. “Avy jorrāelan,” he whispers, the very first Valyrian phrase he taught you. (I love you.)
“Avy jorrāelan tolī, ñuha valzȳrys,” you reply, the practiced phrase coming easily to you after all these months. (I love you too, my husband.)
With one final kiss, Aemond departs, the walk toward your chamber doors seeming like the longest of his life. 
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The rest of the day passes by painfully slowly, though you do all you can to entertain yourself. Everything from taking a much longer time than usual to eat meals, forcing yourself to stomach what little you can with your belly in nervous knots, to spending hours walking through the Red Keep’s gardens. 
Which is how you find yourself now, in front of the fire in one of the many ornate sitting rooms, wiling away the time by half-heartedly working on a needlepoint. Alicent sits next to you on the small sofa, restlessly reading over a small stack of letters as Helaena paces, wringing her hands and mumbling to herself under her breath, a common sight following the death of her son. 
With a tired sigh, you put down your embroidery hoop, fingers too sore and overworked to continue. “I just want him to come back,” you mutter, staring vacantly into the fire, “Or to get some word, some update. Just to know.”
“He’ll come back, sweetling,” Alicent murmurs softly, setting the letters aside as she places a comforting hand on your knee, “They both will.” She finishes, glancing over at her daughter with a longing stare, wishing there was anything she could do to ease her pain. 
The both of you sit for a while longer, the navy sky outside growing steadily darker, before Alicent sighs and looks at you with a sad half-smile. “You may as well go to bed, dear,” she says softly, “Staying up worrying won’t do any good.”
Knowing she’s right, you quickly bid her goodnight before taking your leave.
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You lay in bed, tossing and turning for a long while, thoughts filled with nothing but your husband, before sleep finally takes you. Even then, it’s not restful, dreams filled with visions of blood and fire, of the sounds of screaming and swords clanging together. 
It isn’t until the wee hours of the night, almost sunrise, that a sound wakes you – clanging again, only soft this time, like metal on stone. 
You blink your eyes open, a little groan leaving your lips as you rub at them with your fists before –
“Aemond!” You breathe, scrambling under the blankets to get to him, nearly toppling off the bed in your haste. 
He makes a small “oof” noise as you throw yourself against his chest, catching you in his arms and holding you tightly. “Careful, love,” he laughs softly, letting his eye slip closed as he kisses the top of your head, breathing in the familiar lavender scent of your hair. 
“You came back,” you breathe, winding your arms around his waist as you kneel at the edge of the bed, knees digging into the plush mattress. Upon hugging the prince, you come to realize that the small clanging noise that woke you had to have been him quickly untying his plate armor and stripping off his chainmail, leaving him in a soft tunic and pants – the aforementioned garments lying haphazardly on the floor, their sheen reflected somewhat in the dim glow of the fire. 
“Of course I did,” he murmurs, stroking a hand over your back, “I swore I would, didn’t I?”
The two of you fall easily into a comfortable silence, arms wrapped securely around one another as the only noise in the room is the sound of soft breathing and the crackling from the hearth. You can’t help but notice that Aemond smells smokey, much like he does after riding on Vhagar but stronger now, no doubt having been around dragon fire for hours. 
After a moment, you peer up at him, eyes finally adjusted to the low light. When you do, you can’t help the small, pitying little gasp that leaves your lips and one hand rises to gently cup his cheek. You’re no stranger to seeing him after a long day training in the yard with Ser Criston, but this is wholly different. 
In the pale light, you could make out small dark splotches on his face and neck and upon skirting your thumb over one on his cheek, you come to realize it’s remnants of ash, staining not only his skin but the bits and pieces of his tunic and pants that weren’t covered by armor as well. His hair was still fixed how you’d left it, though messier now – windswept and slightly dusty as well, many of the white strands stained a faint grey, the flash of black from your own braid still cutting through the paleness of his like a knife. 
But what really stopped you was his eye, his lilac one; you frown when you notice the uneasy look in it, full of a bitter sadness. “My sweet husband,” you say softly, brows furrowing when you notice a few scant tear stains on his cheek, their paths carved through the spots of ash, “What happened? What did they do to you?” You question, heart racing at the thought of the horrors he must’ve seen – his first real taste of battle.
The prince gazes at you for a long second, his lips parting as one of his hands comes to rest at the nape of your neck, fingers threading through your hair. All at once though, the sadness in his eye changes to a familiar fire, one that makes your heart race for an altogether different reason and desire curls in your belly, coming to rest like a cat in a sunbeam. 
“Aemond?” You question, blinking up at him. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, hot and insistent and you’re all too eager to comply, easily melting against him. A whimper leaves your lips, instantly swallowed by his mouth as it moves against yours. 
The kiss is more teeth and tongues than anything else, your husband’s slipping against yours with a practiced ease. His hand threads more harshly through your hair, making you moan against his lips as your hands cling tightly to the dark fabric of his tunic, a growl reverberating under them as it emanates from his chest. 
“Need you,” he breathes raggedly as his lips part from yours, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your jaw and to your neck. You shudder against him as his teeth nip gently at your skin before his lips suckle at it gently, painting bruises on your throat that match the many he surely has. 
“But –” you start, a myriad of questions swirling in your mind despite the pleasure threatening to blot them out. 
You’re stopped mid sentence as Aemond suddenly cups one of your breasts, palming eagerly at the tender flesh in a way he knows makes your head spin and don’t miss the ghost of a victorious smirk on his lips at the way you cut yourself off with a small, shuddered moan, squirming in his hold as his thumb skirts over your nipple through the thin fabric of your nightgown. 
“Please, sweet one, I need this,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your neck. His hand at the nape of your neck slips down to wrap around the small of your back, arching you against him, “I need you, I need to feel… t-to feel something good again.”
Once more, you’re nodding before he can even finish his request, chest heaving as you fight to keep your eyes open, wanting to keep him in your sights as if he may disappear again if you don’t. “Then take me,” you sigh, a broken moan leaving your lips as he kisses down your neck and across your chest. The hair at the back of your neck raises on end as he mouths over the fat of your breast, dampening the front of your nightgown.
Both of your hands claw desperately at the back of his head, tangling into his long hair messily just as his lips close around your nipple. “Gods!” You cry as he suckles at it needily, still pawing at the other one, savoring the feel of it in his hand. 
Just as your thighs begin squeezing together, your center aching, Aemond pulls away, smirking when you whine. Impatient as ever, he quickly pulls at your nightgown, tugging it up and over your head, and tosses it onto the floor with his armor – delicate silk pooling over hard metal – before quickly undoing his tunic, eye glimmering proudly at how you always stare at him with such reverence. 
“Fuck,” he growls, hands descending passionately against you once more, one again kneading at your breast as the other slides against your hip, long fingers digging into the fat of your ass, “You get more beautiful every time I see you.” He whispers against your lips, strands of silver hair falling loose from his braid and fanning around his face. 
His lips press against yours once more, teeth teasingly nipping at your lower lip as your nails dig into his shoulders and chest, anxious for more even as you blush at his words. Always one to please, the prince wastes no time in trailing kisses back over your neck, pausing to nip and suck once again at his marks from earlier, needing to see remnants of himself on your delicate skin.
Again, he traces a bath down across your chest before licking over your nipple, needing to give attention to the breast he’d missed earlier. His tongue laves over it greedily and you moan at the feel of his length, hard and hot against your lower belly even through the cotton of his trousers. 
Just as his teeth nip softly at your taut bud, the hand on your hip shifts toward your center, making your breath catch in your throat. Suckling at your nipple once more, Aemond gently runs his fingers through your already dripping folds, pulling a loud, whiny whimper from you as his lips curl into a smirk, a pleased hum radiating against your breast. 
“Husband, please,” you whine, finding your voice once more as he rests his forehead against yours, chuckling at your cries. 
“Seems I’m not the only one that needs this, hm?” He teases, eye glancing over your face as his fingers lightly rub against your aching bud, your breaths mingling together. 
“A-Always need you,” you say breathily, your hips moving of their own accord as he plays with you, your own hands clutching at him like an anchor, “I’ll always, fuck! I’ll always need you, Aemond.” 
He feels his heart skip in his chest at that and once again grows restless, the need to have you, to feel nothing but you burns through him like fire. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he thinks how the sincerity in your tone reminds him of your wedding vows, whispered to him in the Sept as if the two of you were the only people in the universe – how he wishes that were true. 
With a grunt, he presses his lips harshly against yours once more before leaning forward, pressing himself over you until you have no choice but to buckle and fall to your back against the bed. Unable to think of anything else, he wastes no time in kneeling at the side of the bed, knees against one of the many fur rugs dotted over the floors of your chamber. 
A squeal leaves your lips as the prince clutches at your ankles and pulls you toward him, until your ass is nearly hanging off the edge of the bed. A breathy whimper leaves you as you peer down at him, resting back on your elbows as your teeth bite into your lower lip. 
Your hips buck as Aemond kisses up your thighs, long hair tickling your soft skin, and you whine as he licks at the curve where your thigh and center meet. A breath leaves him as he uses his thumbs to part your folds, licking his lips at how your arousal already coats them, wetness catching in the dim light of the fire. 
“The Stranger himself wouldn’t be able to tear me from this,” your husband murmurs lowly, nearly growling as he glances between your face and your dripping heat like a starving man looking over a feast. 
With a groan, he finally dives in, moaning nearly as loud as you do as he greedily mouths at your cunt, tongue licking harshly over you from bottom to top. Every muscle in your body seems to seize as lightning bolts of pleasure crackle up and down your spine. 
Your head flops back against the bed as Aemond licks and suckles at your folds, burying his face against your center as he licks into you, nose pressed tightly against your pearl. Your fingers tangle into his hair once more, back arching as he groans into your heat, all but fucking you on his tongue as obscene wet sounds echo about the room. 
“Oh Gods, f-fuck,” you whine, hips rutting against his face as the heat in your belly threatens to boil over already. Your eyes roll back as he chuckles against you and licks up to your bud, suckling at it eagerly, making you clench around nothing.
“Gods, you taste good, so sweet,” the prince mumbles against you, lapping at your pearl as he runs two thick fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal. “I would kill Death himself for this, my love,” he rasps, leaning up to watch the expressions on your face as he presses his fingers into you, impatiently crooking them up in just the way you like, fucking and rubbing them against the sensitive spot within you with practicied ferocity. 
“Please, please, please,” you pant, belly knotting tighter and tighter at his words, the gruffness of his voice, head so clouded you aren’t even entirely sure what you’re begging for. 
Aemond smirks and licks and sucks at your bud for a moment more, savoring every whine and whimper he pulls from you. “Let go, my love,” he murmurs, grinning at the way your heat clenches tightly around his fingers, “Peak, let me feel it.”
You wail as the cord within you breaks, shuddering and babbling the prince’s name again and again as pleasure washes over you, your muscles tensing and relaxing in a dizzying rhythm as he works you through it. You nearly peak again as he groans against you, lips wrapped around your pearl as he suckles, gradually slowing his fingers within you.
Finally, you come down, though the fire within you still burns brightly, still aches for him. You watch through half-lidded eyes as he rises from the floor, lilac eye looking over your disheveled form proudly as white strands of hair cling to his face, still sticky with your arousal. 
His chest heaves as he quickly undoes the ties of his trousers and tugs them off his long, lean legs. He wipes at his lips with the back of his hand as he leans back over you and you whine when you feel the heat of his length pressing against you, trapped between your two bodies, the tip already red and leaking against your belly. 
“You’re so good to me,” he murmurs softly, leaning forward to kiss you as he savors the little gasp that leaves your lips as he reaches down with one hand, positioning his cock at your sensitive entrance, “My perfect, sweet girl.” 
You nod your head, hands cupping his face as he pushes into you. Your mouth falls open in a loud gasp and you tremble in his hold as he presses forward, sheathing himself inside of you completely with a pleased groan. 
“Oh, my love,” you finally pant, savoring the way his length feels within you, pressing against every part of you as he fills you completely, “You feel so good, husband, always so good.” 
He growls at that, the breathiness of your tone making his eye flutter shut as he begins rutting against you, grinding his hips against your own. “You were made for me,” he muses, groaning when you begin kissing over the pale column of his throat, “Made to be mine.”
“For you,” you agree between kisses and licks, heart fluttering at the way his thrusts stutter each time your teeth graze over his skin, “Only for you, my sweet prince.”
Aemond groans above you and settles into a practiced rhythm, thick cock spearing into you again and again as your legs wrap around his hips, holding you to him as if he would ever dream of pulling away. One of his hands rests at the nape of your neck again, holding you against his throat as the other grabs at your waist, marveling at the way your breasts move against his chest, bouncing lightly with each thrust. 
The thought of them full of milk, your belly swollen with his seed, flashes across his mind and he growls low in his chest, cock twitching within you. 
As you squirm beneath him, your husband can tell you’re close, as if the steady pulse of your core around his length wasn’t warning enough. “I would go to war for this cunt,” he groans, locking eyes with you as your foreheads press together once more, “I would burn whole villages to the ground just to have you like this, sweetling.” 
His words cascade over you like lava, making your brows furrow together as you gaze up at him, mouth agape. You all but forget to breathe for a moment before a loud, whining moan tears itself from your lips, chest heaving as you fight for air. 
“A-Aemond, Aemond, Gods,” you babble, legs tightening around his waist as your nails scratch down his back, making him grunt above you. After only a few more thrusts, you break once more, writhing beneath him. 
Distantly, you hear the prince groan and grunt above you as your cunt squeezes around him, determined to hold off his own pleasure long enough to watch you peak once more. 
Finally, unable to hold back any longer, Aemond surrenders to the fire within him and moans, voice breaking, as he lets it consume him. Your eyes flutter open as you feel his cock kick inside you and you watch him, mesmerized, as warmth fills you, his seed adding to the sticky mess between your thighs. 
He collapses against you, hips still rutting against your own in broken, twitching movements as his own high fades. The two of you lay like that for a moment, panting as you catch your breath, until you realize your husband’s shoulders are shaking beneath your hold, his breath coming in unsteady bursts against your neck from where his head rests against your shoulder. 
“My love?” You question, cupping his cheek and bringing his face up just enough to see him. Your heart nearly breaks at the sight of tears pooled in his eye, a few already running down his cheek, “What is it? What’s wrong?” You question, quickly glancing over him, searching for some injury, some source of pain. 
Aemond merely shakes his head and sniffles, blinking to dispel his tears as his cheeks flush – he hates the thought of you seeing him so weak. “I’m… I-I’m sorry,” he chokes out finally, holding you against his body tightly despite his embarrassment. 
Immediately, you shake your head, pressing a hand against his shoulder until he rolls over, pulling you with him. A soft gasp leaves your lips at the feel of his softening length slipping from your drenched folds as he comes to rest on his back, you at his side, one hand across his chest.
“Shhh, husband,” you murmur, cupping his cheek once more as you lean up on an elbow, “You needn’t apologize to me.” He nods, somewhat half-heartedly, at your words and sighs deeply, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows thickly, trying to chase away the tightness at the back of his throat. 
You stay silent for a moment, giving him time to calm down, and let your eyes sweep over his form. Aside from the blotches of ash on his pale skin, and some bruises here and there, he looks nearly untouched. A small smile tugs at your lips despite the situation when you see your lock of hair still wound into his, pale braid practically falling apart by now, most of it pulled free of the leather tie holding it together. 
“What’s happened?” You finally ask once his breathing evens out some, your thumb rubbing soothingly over his cheekbone. 
“Aegon,” he chokes out, jaw clenching once more as tears run down his cheek yet again. 
Your heart clenches as a shot of adrenaline all but knocks the wind from your lungs, “He’s not… h-he didn’t –” You start to question, stopping yourself once Aemond shakes his head.
“No, no,” he confirms, voice ragged and soft as his chest heaves with a sniffle, “Almost, but no.”
“Almost?”
“He… He’s hurt,” Aemond starts, barely a whisper as his eye finally meets yours, “Badly. I don’t… I don’t know what comes next, o-or what to do, what’ll be expected of me, of you –” He mutters, breath picking up as panic rises within him, regretting each time he’d looked at his brother with envy – saw the black crown atop his head, glimmering with red rubies, and thought bitterly that it would suit him better. 
“Shhh,” you breathe once more, draping yourself over him like a blanket and pulling a tired sigh from his lips as your touch immediately slows his racing heart. You run your fingers through his hair, black intertwined with white, and press a soothing kiss to his cheek, “I don’t care what comes next, my love.” 
Your soft words draw his attention and he looks at you, brows furrowed in surprise, “You don’t?”
“Not at all,” you murmur, steeling yourself to be strong for him regardless of the future, “Whatever happens, I shall face it with you. That’s enough for me.”
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gen tags: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild @cruelworldlana @mheraxes @eternallyvenus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino
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lady-ashfade · 10 months
Text
Bound By Birth
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The yandere boy’s reaction to you being their sweet, smaller twin and being obsessed.
Characters: Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Aemond Targaryen.
Theses aren’t complete HC’s just some I thought about, but if you want a part 2 or a fic based on it please let me know.
Warnings: Yandere tendencies, Obsession, Possessive, Targaryen ways if you know what I mean, stalking, a bit hinted or nswf a bit but nothing is said that much!
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Aemond Targaryen
As soon as Aemond came out of the womb he had lost this sense of warmth and comfort, like he knew you weren’t with him. The new born screamed until you had entered the world a few minutes later and the room felt silent from his crys, only to be full with yours.
From his first breath he knew he belonged with you.
We all know aemond had no dragon that hatched from the egg so he lost that feeling but he had you. The gods had blessed him with something far greater then any dragon he could ever have. Needless to say he thinks of you as his to have since you are his twin.
Little man is possessive from the get go, like he can not bare to be away from you. So you always had him following your trail everywhere you went.
Aemond felt heartbroken when your egg hatched and his had yet too, only to discover the egg was never going to hatch. He was beyond jealous. He and you were supposed to have everything alike, dress the same, eat the same food and share the same toys.
But then that’s when it clicked into his brain you are his dragon. Yes, the gods did this on purpose.
No matter the gender his mind always pictured your wedding day.
Hates it when you train with your dragon and he can’t. Like gets really upset. He does get picked on but you’re there to save him, making him fall harder.
He swears one day he would protect you.
Aegon and the other boys are out of the question for him. You aren’t allowed to hang out with them at all, and if you are? He will pull you away quickly without a word and drag you off away from them.
When he gets his eye taken from him he couldn’t handle your eyes looking at him. Feels ashamed for the curse now on his face because he can’t be handsome or beautiful for you.
But the joy he feels inside when you weep beside him and hold his hand, he feels some sort of pride that you care for him deeply.
Female twin:
Knows you are meant to marry him. He doesn’t even have to convince Alicent very hard to wed you because she needs you to stay safe.
Matching your dresses to his outfit all the time.
He trains to impress you one day, maybe protect you in a fight. If you are ever watching the boys practice he will try his hardest which sometimes leads to him embarrassing himself. But you are there to smile and kiss his cheek with grace.
After that the two of you grow, well he changes into a different man but you stay the same sweet girl.
Aemond has become your protector. Always behind you and glaring at anyone who passes a glance that isn’t welcome. Man is ready to kill with just one word.
Since he is older his mind grows and he can’t stop noticing how beautiful you really are. The body, the hair, or just the sound of your sweet voice. He is addicted and can’t wait to have you as his wife.
Is a beast at fighting now. Gets a boost when you watch from above and see him win every time. Cole is his wingman and will pair him up with someone to put on a good fight just for you.
Male twin
Knows the gods made you smaller and younger then him just so you can be his. From the time he realized what marriage was he was thinking of you.
When you are younger and training he hates embarrassing himself around you, like hated it. Or when you’d pair up with the other boys, even Aegon. Aemond will hate to spar against you and he couldn’t imagine hurting you. But this is more time he can bound with you.
When he loses his eyes- Boy is more angry that he doesn’t look more like you now. You were his twin brother and are supposed to look the same. Aemond does feel the same when he sees you cry for him and tell him he will be okay. But he’s gained a dragon now. One to protect you.
Aemond is just glaring at people while you’re just smiling at everyone. Two separate handsome boys.
He doesn’t care if you’re a boy, you are his twin and he is meant to have you. He hates the thought of you marrying a woman, or anything- Will not share you with anyone.
You both match clothes all the time and he makes sure to tell the servants to dress you both alike or he will be angry.
He is still your protector at all cost and will let nobody harm you in any way. Not his sweet brother.
Just as well, when he grows his mind picks up on your handsome face, your smaller height. He feels better about himself because he could easily overpower you, being the bigger male twin does something to him. He loves it when you get angry at how you can’t grow as much muscle or height as him.
You both train together and he will teach you. Sometimes he will let you win, other times he wouldn’t because he loves you looking a bit sad- You might not be as big or strong but you have speed and can move away from him quickly. He loves to praise you for the smallest things.
Lucerys Velaryon
As I have said in my past fics he is a clingy boy. From birth he loves you because you are his partner in life and he knows it.
Lucerys does cry a lot when he is away from you, but he is also a happy baby as long as he is near you, just like aemond. I think at the young age he just knows you’re his twin.
I picture you however being the first one to walk and he’s just on the floor trying to follow you. Throws a tantrum when you walk away. But, his first steps are when rhaenrya tries to get him to walk and he does…only to walk passed her and over to you.
Growing up he follows you around like a lost puppy. Clings to you where ever you go and if you don’t give him your attention, he will find a way to get it. He does get jealous when jace is around because he’s older, boy just wants you to pay attention to him.
He has planned many pranks with you. Might even do a few on you but feels bad immediately afterwards.
When your father “dies” he realizes his role is to take on driftmark and he fears it. So he gets more possessive after that.
Hates being called Bastard but when someone calls you that? Boy is pulling you away and telling his mother for just the slightest judgement against you. Might even get daemon on it because he is more ruthless.
He tells his mother when he was younger to betroth the two of you and she sees how much you two love each other. However when you both get older he yells at her that he will not marry anyone else but you, no matter what. And he never disobeys her but this was different and she knows he telling the truth.
Even if you are a male he will take no wife. Because that means she would be yours as well. But let’s be honest, rhaenrya is planning to betrothed the both of you to someone. 
He kisses your cheek all the time or holds you hands, doesn’t really care who’s watching.
He still pranks you however, like taking your books and holding them above your head.
He is more clingy then the rest of them but not as dangerous- Well, not himself but will get others to do the dirt work.
Male twin:
He knows he’s small but he’s still young, but you? You’re shorter then him and less muscular and it makes him happy. Because that means he can protect you better then you can yourself.
He compares his frame to yours constantly, you’re such a smaller boy and he picks on you a bit. Not mean, but he can be a bit cocky at times.
You already know you both have matching outfits- Every day. Even pjs.
You both used to spar with each other all the time because it was so much fun, and he didn’t like you going against anyone in the fear of you being hurt.
Older sparring is fun because he isn’t that good at it and you’re almost just as bad. From any age he is so embarrassed to mess up in front of you. But maybe if he beats you then you can praise him for it.
Also, he can be alone with you and no one bats an eye because you’re both boys. So he can be as affectionate as he wants.
But nothing really changes for being a boy or a girl in his eyes, he’s just the same with both.
Female reader.
Younger him thinks it’s like a book about a princess and prince, just like the ones your mother read to the two of you.
Because you’re a female he gets more jealous of the males in his family, not saying he doesn’t for male you but this is different. You can easily be betrothed to any of them, he hates it.
Begs your mother to have you as his wife from a young age as well. It’s your birth right to be his bride. And again this means he has no use of another wife because you can have children. There is no one else he wants.
Matching dresses to his outfits and if you want to wear something else? Pouts. He can’t bare to not be in the same color as you.
Sparring is different because he is so terrified of hurting you. He will not even use force on his swings, but a few low hits. You can cry and get angry he isn’t trying but he wouldn’t care.
Kisses you in private all the time, “You’ll be my wife one day.”
Glares at any male that talks to you, even his brother. Tugs at your hand and just joins at your hip.
You can’t be alone together…Unless he sneaks in your room. Will just hold you until you both fall asleep.
Loves to braid your hair. Like he learns just for you.
Jacaerys Velaryon
He is the first born, so he knows he’s missing you. He, just like the others, is waiting for your presence.
Somehow even baby him wiggles closer to you in the cradle. They had to put you two in the same cradle because he wouldn’t stop fussing about being away from you.
He is more calm at this time, like if you get picked up? He’s going to watch but he’s just chilling unless you are out of his sight.
Loves to show you his toys, even though you have seen them so many times. Loves to share them with you too.
Have you seen those videos of babies hugging each other? Literally him with you.
He isn’t as different from the other two at this point.
Jace learns he is to become king and always calles you the future queen/king. And I mean actually correcting his mother or anyone else.
“The gods put us together, it stays that way.”
Loves when you hold his arm or chase him around playing tag.
Hates Aegon or aemond. He’s okay with lucerys, just don’t give him more attention.
Knows he is a bastard and that makes you one too and he fears for you the most.
Older him is just as bad if not more.
Tails behind you and always have his hand around your waist. Always doing everything together.
Even baths, not in the same room but at the same time- And he’s tried to be in the same tub. But going to clothes, studying and to the same sheets as you.
Gets angry if it’s even mentioned that you would marry someone else. Yells about how you will role beside him and no one can change that.
He’s kinda angry a lot when it comes to you. Wouldn’t really let anyone get too close, like not even your personal time. You want to read a book? Okay, he will be in the corner doing his own thing.
But he’s sweet to you always unless you say you can’t marry him, then it’s just him pushing you to think you have no choice.
Male twin
You think you can get away from this man? Um no, he is always near you.
From a young age he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Can’t play without him, can’t study without him, or train. Anything you do is what he is doing.
Training with younger him isn’t that bad- Well, okay it’s a bit. He really loves to win against you and does the most. He wouldn’t hurt you but if you fall it isn’t his fault, you should be praising him for being so strong.
Dressing the same each time and will literally throw a tantrum if not. Saying the future king demands it.
After a few years, I think he might be the most possessive about you. The only time you can leave him or go somewhere in the castle is with his mother.
Man is always with you every step, linking your arms.
You already know he is picking on you for being so much smaller then him. I see him as such a cocky man for some reason. Saying things like
“You can’t get that, let me.” “I’m surprised you can even pick up a sword.” “How can a man be that small?”
Training with him older is him teaching you- Mostly useless stuff so he can still win. Just like when he was a kid, loves to win against you.
Matching outfits with you.
Boy knows you are to be king with him and will not stop at anything to get that point across.
Female twin
Boy is holding your hand as you lead him anywhere or him you. He with not leave you for anything.
Matching your dresses to his colors or you wearing his favorite colors- Or him just picking them out for you. If jace doesn’t like your dress he will make you change it.
Is ready before you get done in the morning and comes in as soon as you get your dress on, much to his dismay because he could help you change.
Wouldn’t let the maids touch your skin or go anywhere. The only place that can help you with is your hair and clothes. Loves to let his hands linger on your neck while he places a necklace on you. Or helping you pick everything out.
Escorts you everywhere you need to go. He isn’t afraid to have a tight grip on your waist if you try and get away from him. Can and will gaslight you anytime he wants.
Just like the others he already told his mom he will marry you. You think he will care if she says no? Ha, he wouldn’t care.
While he is studying you are in the corner or with your mother.
He doesn’t really like your time with the other children but is kinda okay with it. Only if you pay attention to him more.
Sneaks into your room at night and will kiss you for as long as he can. Holds you close and brushes your hair until you fall asleep. Doesn’t even care if he leaves marks on you so the others can see.
He does kill in secret if need be or gets them killed by guards, maybe even by daemon or rhaenrya.
Daemon has taught him a few things on how to wow a woman and how to keep you in line, even things to do to you in bed.
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