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youraverageaemondsimp · 2 days

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“Thou Shalt Not Covet.” // Angel!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Human!Reader

Summary: An angel's duty is to protect and guide humans; never to desire them, for it is a sin. Yet Aemond, the most trusted angel of God, finds himself yearning and desiring for you, a human.

WARNINGS: nsfw, mdni, smut, dubious consent(?), afab! human!fem!reader x angel!aemond, masturbation (m.) unprotected p in v sex, tiddy sucking, fingering, cunnilingus/oral (f. receiving), forbidden relationship, body worship, blasphemy(?), creampie, cumming inside breeding kink, slightly disturbing content at the end, religious themes. + NOT PROOFREAD

WC: 4.5k

A/N: so I'm officially breaking my hiatus with this piece, I know I haven't posted for over two months and I apologize for that! Exams and everything practically ate my life away! // divider creds to @cafekitsune

God's most trusted angel, Aemond Targaryen, was no ordinary angel. He was sincere, always performing his duties without fail. He was respected amongst his peers, the most obedient angel of god.

Lately there have been rumours about the curse of being God's favourite, whispers about the old tale that all knew very well started resurfacing, the tale of the fallen angel. An incident that is now used as a way to warn angels from disobeying God and trudging the path of temptation.

Must all angels that were favoured by God fall into the way of sin? It has happened before, it might happen again.

Aemond decided that he would never be like that, he wants to prove that he is nothing like the fallen angel and how being God's favourite angel is not a curse, but rather a blessing.

And he did just that. Until a day arrived when he was sent to the land below on an urgent mission.

Aemond was reluctant to descend down to the land of people but he had to on the order of God, his mission was simple, to guide humanity through the famine that was occurring along with the drought that was caused by the devil to wreak havoc amongst the villagers. Messing with God's treasured creations has always been the devil's hobby after all.

And so he disguised himself as a human, helping men, women, children alike to recover, he blessed the land with fertility so that the land could produce crops once again. It was not an easy task, he had spent many weeks on the land, learning how humans function and go about their life which was quite a contrast to angels.

He also learnt how frail the human body is, how much energy is required to perform tasks and an unfamiliar feeling of hunger which he never felt when he was an angel. Every sensation was new to him but he overcame all the difficulties in order to finish his duty.

At least, that is what he had thought…

“Ser?! Are you okay?!” A voice shrieked in shock as he blinked his eye open to see an unfamiliar face with the look of concern staring down at him. You noticed how pale his face was and how dull his features looked, his lips were dry and chapped.

You were just taking a walk through the forest in search of medicinal herbs when you encountered this man lying unconscious in the middle of the path which made you panic thinking he was dead. You sighed in relief when he opened his eye.

“What happened to me?” He asks confused and you furrow your brows, “You fainted.” You tell him and he sighs “Why? I have been eating well though.” He mutters to himself and you clear your throat, you noticed how his face showed signs of dehydration earlier so you end up asking him a question “Did you drink water?” to which he replies with a “No, why?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in disbelief, “Water is an essential thing to survive, you fainted because of dehydration.” You explain his situation to him and he lets out an annoyed sigh, “Ugh, why are human bodies so frail and require so much material to sustain oneself?” He grumbles and you stare at him confused.

“Whatever, drink this.” You give your pouch of water and he drinks it greedily unknowingly, emptying the entire sac, he hands it back to you. Aemond tries standing up but immediately stumbles, however you catch him just in time so he doesn't fall. “It seems the dehydration was worse than we thought, my house is nearby, let me take care of you.” You offer him help and he just simply nods, “Lean onto me okay?” You instruct him and he does as you say. You lead him to your house.

It was a small house amidst the woods but not further inside, you opened the wooden door with one hand and pushed it with your foot and led both you and the man inside. You opened the door to your small bedroom and took him inside, helping him lay on the bed.

“Please rest comfortably.” You smile at him and he nods, “I will go and prepare medicinal tea so you can recover.” You inform him before getting up and reaching the exit.

“Wait!” He calls out and you turn around with a questioning look, “May I get your name?” he asks politely and you give him a small smile, “It's Y/N” You tell him and he smiles back at you, “ ‘Y/N’ such a pretty name.” He mutters to himself before looking at you, “Thank you Y/N.” He appreciates you genuinely which makes your heart flutter and you give him a nod. “What is your name?” You ask out of courtesy “Aemond.” He replies with a slight smile and your eyes widen, “Oh like the angel!” You affirm and he nods, “Like the angel, yes.”

“You have such an amazing name, that too it being after God's favourite angel.” You compliment him genuinely and he nods shyly. You take that as a cue to leave the room and prepare the tea for him.

Tying your beige apron; you quickly pull out the jar of dried hibiscus petals from the wooden shelf before taking a few of the petals and grinding them slightly, you added those grinded petals into the bot of boiling water and let it simmer for a minute before blowing off the fire and straining the liquid into a wooden cup.

You carry the hot beverage into the room only to find Aemond asleep, ‘his body must've been overly worked without any water’ you smile to yourself before placing the cup down onto the table, the slight noise startling and waking Aemond up from his slumber.

“Oh I apologise, I did not know that the noise would startle you.” You say in a slightly amused voice and he shakes his head, “It's alright.” he replies. “I bought the tea, you can drink it when it cools down.” You point at the cup on the table next to the bed and he nods, “Thank you.” He appreciates your hospitality.

You give him a small smile and he returns it, and then the room falls silent, awkward tension filling the air. You clear your throat in an attempt to break the tension before speaking up “So… I've never seen you around this area before or in the town, are you new here?” You question him.

“Mhm, I just recently got into this town after hearing the news of famine spreading here.” He answers truthfully, he had been going around the area into multiple villages and towns, solving the famine.

“Ah yes, there has been a shortage of food supplies since our land did not produce any crop this year.” You say sadly, thinking about how all the once healthy people in the town now look starved and unhealthy because of the shortage of food.

Aemond notices your sadness immediately and he grabs your hand, wanting to reassure you but the moment his skin comes in contact with yours, he feels electricity shoot up his spine that makes him retreat his hand immediately.

“Are you okay?” You ask concerned, reaching out for his hand. His breath hitches when you touch him, you examine his hand thinking something happened to it, all the while he's trying to control his breathing.

Why does his body feel hot when you touch him?

He gives you a quick nod and pulls his hand away from your grip and grabs the drink in order for the gesture to not seem rude, but luckily for him you don't dwell on it too much.

“Famines and Drought occur when the devil wants to mess with God, something he does for attention while thousands of people are affected.” Aemond grits his teeth, thinking about the reason why many humans are dying and you look at him confused, “And in these times of difficulty, many forget to pray, because all of their time is spent surviving, which further weakens the protection of the land.” He continues.

“So what do we do?” You ask confused.

“Pray, I was going to go to the centre of the village and start praying so that the rain falls tomorrow, but… I ended up like this.” He says embarrassed.

“Do you think God will really help us?” You question and he's shocked and offended by that question but he holds his composure, “He will. Have faith in him.” He tells you and you nod.

“Since you said you were new, you are free to stay in this house, besides you need to recover as well.” You offer him and his eye widens, “I can't, you've already done too much for me.” He refuses but you shake your head, “It's alright aemond, I was starting to stray from the path of God due to the recent problems, but after meeting you, I'm somehow comforted that everything will be alright, a feeling which I haven't felt since the start of the drought.” You admit honestly and he stares at you in awe.

And so you let him stay in your house.

You and Aemond have gotten undoubtedly closer, realising how you both held the same values and opinions, you helped Aemond spread the word of God and soon just like he said, the rain fell and the land began to recover.

You both were currently looking outside the window as the gentle drizzle of rain fell elegantly outside, making the lush greenery of the trees stand out and the smell of wet mud provided a deep comfort to your soul.

“You were right, Aemond.” You smiled at him and he smiled back, using his angelic powers in his human body exhausts him out, especially since the body of the human is so frail and weak, so he often has to recover in your house, but you just thought that it was because of dehydration like the first time.

You looked outside in awe, meanwhile Aemond stared at you instead, your face extremely beautiful as if you had been specially crafted by God himself, your eyes shone as brightly as the stars in the night sky and your hair that cascaded down your back like a waterfall. He couldn't stop admiring you.

He watched as your lips parted when you let out a satisfied sigh, wondering how they'd taste, would they be sweet as they look? He wanted to taste you.

His eye widened in realisation at his own behaviour and thoughts, mind spiralling down a hole knowing that he shouldn't be thinking this way, his closed his eye and took a deep breath, trying to push off all the feelings away but when he opened his eye back again, he was faced with you who looked at him ever so concerningly.

The warm feeling in his heart only growing stronger each and every moment. “Aemond? Is everything alright?” You ask and he nods, “Yeah everything is fine, it's just..” ‘I wanna kiss you.’ He wants to say it so badly, “I just feel under the weather.” He lies.

He lied.

Aemond never lied.

You find it odd but brush it off and leave the matter at that, focusing on the rain outside once again watching as the droplets trailed down the window.

Aemond feels hot on the inside, a burning sensation of itchiness that urges to be scratched, he excuses himself and goes into the bedroom, saying he needs rest, once again, a lie, he shuts the door to the room and you're left alone in the living space.

Deciding not to think much, you began cooking lunch, making soup for the hundredth time.

Aemond leans against the door, breathing heavily as his body grows hotter and hotter every moment, there's a weird sensation between his legs that makes it hard for him to focus on anything else, he looks at the bulge in his pants and touches it, wincing at the electricity that shoots through him.

It's painful.

He knows that whatever he's feeling is wrong.

But it's too painful to bear.

He closes his eyes trying to collect himself but he cannot contain himself, and so he slowly grabs the bulge giving it slight squeezes for it to stop the feeling but not enough to make it go away.

Why is the human body like this?

Why couldn't he control his desires like he did when he was in his angel form?

He slowly pushed his hand down the material of the breeches and held his cock, he grips it which makes him choke out a moan at the sensation.

It felt good.

And so he slowly starts stroking it up and down, curiously experimenting by brushing his thumb against the tip which causes him to whimper, he clasps his own mouth shut at the noise he made but doesn't stop stroking himself.

Muffled noises of soft moans fill the room as he touches himself wondering why the feeling isn't going away, he strokes himself faster which causes him to throw his head back against the door with a loud thud.

“... Aemond?” Your voice makes him stop all of his movements, “Y-yeah?” He replies, trying to sound normal, “I'm making soup, is that okay?” You inquired for his opinion and he replied a choked “Yes.”

He hears your footsteps walk away from the door and he continues to stroke himself, the memory of you calling out his name doing wonders to his imagination as he pictures you moaning his name beneath him, he rubs himself faster, grip tightening on his cock envisioning that he's fucking into your cunt instead of his own hand.

And before he can comprehend the imagery; he feels an immense amount of pleasure shoot through his entire body, making him see white and let out a loud muffled moan of your name o as he feels the wet liquid spurt out of his cock and onto his hand.

He's trembling by the time he's done, looking down at his now unclean hand, white liquid dripping down his palm, the situation of what he had done weighing heavily upon him, the feeling of dread seeping into his body- and so he lets out a soft sigh.

What has he done?

He quickly finds a cloth to wipe himself off and uses the water in the bowl beside the table to wash his hands, he sees his own reflection in the water, feeling disgusted at what he had done.

But it felt so good.

He quickly leaves the room to find you crouching down, tending to the fire as you prepare the soup on top of the heated slab. “Need help?” He asks and you flinch, looking at him with a flushed face, “Hm? O-Oh no need.” You look away quickly. He frowns wondering what happened, you stand up and reassure him that nothing has happened and push him towards the table to sit down. You slightly rub your thighs to ease the tension between them.

You couldn't focus; After all- you just overheard what he did inside the room, the muffled moans, the strokes, and when he called out your name. You heard it all.

The wooden doors aren't really good at covering noises.

A few days passed by quickly after that, the town began to see changes as the crops began sprouting quickly, and soon Aemond's mission was finally completed. Which meant he had to return to the heavens.

But he did not want to.

He actually feels guilty returning to heaven after what he did with his human body.

He was slowly putting his clothes away, ‘packing’ to leave when the door opens which reveals you. Your eyes glance over to the sack of clothes and you quickly realise what's happening.

“You're leaving.” It wasn't a question, but rather a statement which leaves your lips weighed heavily with sadness. Aemond felt something inside him crack as he looked at your solemn expression.

“I have something I want to confess before I leave.” He speaks up and your eyes glint with hope, wondering if he'll confess his feelings to you finally- “I'm an angel.”

…

“Aemond, now isn't the time to be joking.” You furrow your brows but he shakes his head, coming closer to you and holding your hand, “I am not, I came here on a mission to solve humanity's problems and now I have to return to the heavens.” He can't stop speaking, no matter how much the voice inside him tells him that he shouldn't be revealing his true identity to humans. “Aemond, this is not funny-”

“I'm not trying to be funny, I am not lying, here I'll prove it to you.” He lets go of your hand, and moves to the window, and your eyes widen as the sudden sunny weather darkens and rain begins to fall.

You shall not reveal your identity.

You shall not flaunt your powers.

“Is that enough for you to believe me?” He asks and you're shocked, “Are you really..?” You question and he nods. The air shifts and you realise that you're in a heavenly presence which makes you scared- “Be not afraid.” He tells you and your breath hitches in your throat.

He moves closer to you again, caressing your cheek, “I'm telling you all this because- I don't know, I don't want to leave you behind.” He admits truthfully. “But if you're an angel, then we can’t-” You try to speak, but he cuts you off, “I know.”

“Truth be told, I have no idea what it is about you that made me hold such feelings towards you, but all I know is that I want you, I desire you, I need you.” He grips your shoulders, hands digging into your flesh.

You must not seek out a human.

You must not engage in worldly pleasures.

The atmosphere is filled with silence and tension as you look down, unable to form a sentence as your thoughts feel too complicated to process and Aemond just stares at you.

‘Do it.’ he hears a voice at the back of his head.

‘You want her, so do it.’ It encourages him.

‘If you want her, you must claim her.’ It's evil.

‘But I have to return to the heavens.’

‘Will you truly be happy in heaven?’

‘I'm not sure.’

‘Without her? Will you be able to continue to live without her?’

‘I do not know..’

‘If you do not claim her, she will fall in love with another mortal man, will you be able to stand it? Watch down from the heavens with the realisation that she was never yours?’

‘But I must not, I will soil myself, I do not want to give into the worldly pleasures.’

‘Hah, you're a fool, do as you wish, just remember that once you leave, she will never be yours, she will belong to another man.’

‘Stop.’

‘-She will be touched by another man, kissed, caressed, hugged, all the things you want to do to her'

‘Stop.’ Aemond tries resisting the anger that fills him when he imagines another man touching you.

‘She will get fucked by another man, and you'll watch it happen.’

“That's enough!” Aemond screams which startles you, “Aemond?” He looks at you, and your eyes widen when you realise something in his eye has changed, his pupil resembles that of a reptile. “What's wrong—” You're cut off from your words as he presses his lips against you, electricity courses through your body when you feel his soft lips against yours.

His lips move messily against yours, and he tastes just like honey, you try to resist wanting to tell him that this is wrong, and rationalise that he'll be cast out from heaven if he engages in intimacy with you but you aren't able to form coherent words because of the way he's constantly cutting you off with messy kisses.

“I want you, I need you, I can't let you be with any other man other than me.”

You're conflicted on whether you should encourage this but you remain silent, and aemond takes your silence as an agreement, he slowly slides off his robes and fully shows himself naked in front of you.

He's working on your clothes next, pulling them off you in swift motions before you're left standing bare just like him, he cups your cheek and tilts your face towards him, “Aemond… you'll be punished.” Your voice is laced with concern. “Look at you.. Always concerned for me, it doesn't matter anymore, I've made up my mind.” He pushes you towards the bed and onto it before climbing on top of you.

He places the soft pillow below your head for comfort before he trails soft kisses on your face, down to your neck, breasts and stomach.

“Beautiful, my beautiful lady.” He mutters against your skin, pecking and pulling it between his teeth. “Your body is so beautiful, your frame, everything about it is so beautiful.” He praises peppering kisses being placed on your breasts. He watches in awe as your nipples harden and poke up, and so he wets his lips before opening them and taking your nipple into his mouth, sighing softly in satisfaction.

His tongue swirls around your nipple, playing with the bud and flicking it up and down, the suckling noises that leave his mouth are sinful that makes you wet down there, you grind up against him to feel at ease.

The room begins to get hot and your small gasps and whines fill the air, accompanied by his grunts of satisfaction, that he finally got to touch you like this. He leaves your breast with a pop before focusing his attention onto the other one. “Aemond…” You wail and he looks at you, “... need you down here.” Those words leave your mouth unexpectedly as you rub your clit and he immediately listens to you letting go of your breast.

He travels down until he's directly faced with your cunt, he watches in amusement as your essence drips out of your hold which he licks up and brings up to your clit and suckles on it. “Hggnh!” You arch your back in pleasure as you feel tingles all over your body, your cunt pulsing around nothing when you feel his tongue play with your clit.

He nibbles on your clit, his teeth slightly poking it which makes slight pain shoot up your body. His tongue moves up and down, from your hole to your clit, he sucks on the flaps of your cunt harshly that causes you to whimper.

You feel his finger prodding at your opening before he slowly pushed it inside, “Fuck Aemond!” You let out a whine when you felt how his finger was stretching you out whilst his tongue worked magic on your clit.

He slowly pumped his finger in and out, letting you adjust to it before pushing another one inside which made you shriek but he hushed you with a kiss to your clit, and soon enough- the slow licking of your bud and the pumping of his fingers made you reach your peak. You clenched your eyes shut at the impact of your orgasm; feeling as if your whole body was set on fire, you saw plain white as your whole body quivered because of him.

He pulls his face away and draws back his finger only for him to put his fingers in his mouth, loving the way you tasted. He climbed upward until he was face to face with you and kissed you, making you taste your essence.

“So beautiful.” He says softly as he sees your dazed expression and messy hair, the way your lips are parted slightly as you take deep breaths.

He couldn't contain himself anymore.

He wasted no time in lining himself against your entrance and slowly pushing inside, you gasped when you felt how big he was, but you didn't stop him but instead held onto his shoulder as he pushed it inside inch by inch.

His hair cascaded around his face, making him look angelic, he closed his eye; gasping for air when he felt you clench around him. The way your walls were wrapped around him drove him insane; he couldn't hold back any longer as something in him cracked, his pace was messy and fast, almost desperate as if he was waiting his entire lifetime for this.

The sound of thrusts echo in the room as he speeds up, your back arches in pleasure when you feel him hit a certain spot inside you, his hands grip your waist as a leverage as he constantly thrusts deep and deeper inside you.

He feels like he is in heaven again, the feeling of you finally being his and how you're squirming underneath him, moaning his name, not anyone else's.

“You feel so good.” He grunts, “so fucking good— my love.” he places a kiss on your breast, before looking at you once again, your eyes staring directly at him. The sight of you beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist as you try to grind into him, indicating that you want him too makes him go feral.

His thrusts soon become sloppy, he knows he's gonna finish in mere moments, so he angles his thrusts upwards— hitting your sweet spot multiple times— making you see stars when you peak.

He's almost blinded when he feels his orgasm hit him, the intensity of the sensation being way too much to handle, he lets out a loud moan as he slowly rides out his orgasm all the while pumping you full of his seed.

He pulls out moments later and lays down beside you, trying to catch his breath, and you pull him closer for a hug.

Everything goes quiet for a few moments as you both try to recover.

Only for the silence to be broken by Aemond agonising screams.

“Aemond?” You panic not knowing what's happening.

Aemond feels as though his entire body was on fire, and then the flesh on his back distorts as his white angel wings spring out of it, you stand there in awe when you look at them, they're white feathers, but soon that emotion of amusement is replaced by pure horror when you see it be forcefully get ripped apart from his back by an invisible force of nature.

You scream in terror, while Aemond tries to bear the pain, he knew this would happen sooner or later, but he couldn't help but scream as the pain of having his wings ripped apart and pulled from his back is agonising.

Maybe the curse of being God's favourite was real.

And what Aemond is facing right now is God's punishment for trudging the path of temptation.

“Please- it hurts.” Aemond croaks in agony.

You feel helpless, not being able to do anything except watch, you just cradle his face, his hand grips onto yours tightly.

And soon it's done.

You could only watch as tears dripped down from his eye.

His once beautiful angel wings were ripped apart, the feathers all over the room and the only thing that remained of it were the scars of the wound on his back.

The scar that indicates the two wings were pulled out.

An angel without wings.

A fallen angel.

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

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buckybarnesb-tch · 2 days

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Heyy hiii I love your blog🤍 If you're still taking requests... Could you write an Aemond Targaryen who is obsessed with his half-sister or aunt?

As You Wish Sister -Aemond T.

(Fuck yes I can!

For this story the ages are a little off which frustrates me but I did that to make sure that Y/n wouldn’t be considered ‘too old’ to marry. If however, the person who made this request wants something with an older OFC, like a cougar-y kind of story with him obsessed and willing to do anything to have her then let me know and I will try my hand at that for you)

Y/n had been born first just before her mother Aemma had died giving birth her twin brother, who sadly died just a few hours later, leaving Y/n alone.

Rhaenyra took very good care of her, as much as she could as her younger sister was just a babe and now had no mother and no father as Viserys had all but checked out…especially after marrying Alicent and having more children.

Y/n was only just under 1 year older than Aegon as Alicent had gotten pregnant almost immediately after the wedding however as Rhaenyra was having her own children she took care of her sister less and less, leaving the girl on her own a lot of the time. Alicent had taken a liking to the young girl and they were quite close, which is what led to Y/n and Aemond’s relationship in the first place. Aemond loved Y/n from the moment he was born. When he was with her he was always content and happy, but if she left him alone he would cry and scream for her until Alicent could no longer take it and sent for her once again. That lasted until the boy was about 3 and she was 6 and from then on he was basically attached to her skirts.

Neither of the children had a dragon to their name and spent their time dreaming of flying across the 7 kingdoms together. Aemond had always promised to take his half sister with him when he mounted a dragon one day, and though Y/n thought it a nice dream, Aemond was determined to make it come true. He swore to her that one day he would be strong and that he would protect her, no one would ever bully them again. Y/n did not know just how seriously her younger brother took that vow.

He was 9 years old when Rhaenyra moved to Dragonstone and snatched his happiness away as she took their 12 year old sister with her and it was at that moment that Aemond realized how in love with his sister he really was. She would be his, no matter what he had to do to ensure it.

When they met again on Driftmark it was like no time had passed, they stayed by each others side while everyone mourned, but Aemond wasn’t sad, he was determined. With the death of Laena there was now an unclaimed dragon, the largest one alive and he was going to claim her or die trying. To say Y/n was upset that he risked his life to mount Vhagar would be an understatement however he had done it and the pride and happiness on his face wiped away her anger…for about 10 minutes before watching her nephew slice her brothers eye from his head. She held close to his side for as long as she was allowed, holding his hand as the maester stitched him up painfully.

‘I do not wish to frighten you with my scarred face sister, you shouldn’t have to see this.’ He told her later that night as she sat beside his bed to watch over him, the milk of the poppy he had taking quick effect as his good eye began to close against his wishes.

‘You could never scare me brother, you are as handsome as ever and anyone who says otherwise is blind. I will never fear you, no matter what. I love you too dearly.’ She swore, curling up into her chair and drifting off by his side in case he needed anything during the night.

Aemond’s hand held tight to hers all night long, never letting go as if terrified, even in his sleep, that she would disappear.

Aemond was comforted by her words and it is the only thing that got him through the next years. That and the fact that he had “convinced” his sickly father to betroth Y/n to him.

Aemond was told by the men he paid to keep watch over his Princess on Dragonstone that Rhaenyra had been trying to betroth her to Cregan Stark of Winterfell. The Wolf in the North was apparently quite taken with his Princess and Aemond couldn’t blame him, but he would kill him if the man went anywhere near his sister and he made that perfectly clear to his mother and Grandsire. Aemond had vowed that if they didn’t betroth him to Y/n immediately that he would take Vhagar and have her burn Winterfell and every Stark in existence to the ground. He would melt all of the snow in the North if he had to to make his point. Both Alicent and Otto knew that her son was serious and would do exactly as he promised, they also knew that no one could stop Vhagar if Aemond decided to put his threat into action and so they had the King order the marriage.

However other than Rhaenyra acknowledging the order from the King, he heard no word from his betrothed until he was 18 and it was ordered that she return to Kings Landing to be with her soon to be husband. Aemond had kept eyes on her since the day she had been forced to leave him, men that worked for Rhaenyra were secretly under his command, 2 of which became Y/n’s personal guards and wrote the Prince everything about her so that Aemond didn’t miss a thing. He knows all of her interests, what she loves to do everyday, her daily schedule, the foods she likes and more importantly doesn’t like, and he also had them ensure that no man got close to his future wife in anyway. He knew that Jace had an interest in his aunt, the guard reporting to him that the boy had been grounded to his chambers on more than one occasion for watching her bathe or trying to sneak into her rooms in the night and it both enraged and delighted Aemond that Jace wanted his sister but also that he would have to see her happy with the person that Jace hates most. Aemond would ensure that he could rub it in his nephews face that the babes that Y/n would bare would never be anyone’s but his.

Over the years since she had been gone her brother had changed, not just at her having been missing from his side but especially after Aegons actions in taking him to the silk streets on his 13th nameday. Aemond felt disgusting but he was determined to be a better husband than his elder brother was, after all, Y/n was his. His sister, his wife, his everything and he would ensure her happiness. He would make her his and fill her with as many Targaryen babies as possible, Aemond couldn’t wait to see her swollen with his child at his side and in his bed, his elder sister was just too perfect not to be full of his children for the rest of her days.

2 days after the letter was sent to Rhaenyra he was greeted by the sound of huge wings and angry dragon roars as the large black dragon descended on the Red Keep, a dragon that everyone recognized instantly which prompted them scattering like mice. Aemond had heard that his sister had mounted the cannibalistic dragon but to actually see the creature was incredible. He found it funny that his sister, who was a loner with a tendency to be aggressive ended up with the aggressive loner dragon who would have burned anyone else to dust…he must feel how similar they are, honestly it was a fairly perfect fit if you asked him. Though he could have done without the teeth bore in his face from this scarred beast.

He got as close as he dared, watching as a beautiful women slid down the dragons neck to her feet, the dragon nuzzling her and nearly knocking her from her feet (though the gesture was gentle for such a giant dragon who had to be just slightly bigger than Caraxes) before he took to the skies again and left her to look around the courtyard.

She was a vision, more than Aemond could have imagined after all these years without her and as she turned to see him for the first time, the smile that lit up her face gave him butterflies. ‘Aemond? Wow! Look how you’ve grown, you are certainly not that little boy I remember anymore, you are a man grown! Look at this handsome face!’ Aemond took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles in greeting, unable to look away from her perfect purple eyes.

‘You are a vision, more beautiful than I could have imagined…and I have imagined for years.’ Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as she blushed and he held his arm out for her to take. ‘Come, I will show you to your chambers and you can freshen up, I know you must want out of your riding clothes-‘

‘Actually…I had hoped we could go riding together like we always promised we would. My sister would not let me come to Kings Landing before now but you did swear to take me on Vhagar when I returned.’ She reminded him as he guided her through the halls of the castle.

‘I could never forget my promise to you, however we will not be permitted to disappear together the night before our wedding, it would be improper after all.’ He teased making her roll her eyes with a smile.

‘Right because riding a 10 ton scaly lizard into the night is definitely a romantic evening.’ She paused after saying that before speaking again. ‘Actually, never mind, for a Targaryen that has to be the most romantic night possible. We’ll save it for tomorrow night.’

‘As you wish sister. Here is your chamber for the night, tomorrow night your things will be moved into one of our own. You change and get comfortable, I will return in a half an hour and we can take a walk in the gardens, how does that sound?’

‘That sounds lovely brother. I look forward to it.’ Aemond leaned down and pressed his lips to her hand like the gentleman he was, watching once again as her face grew pink and he loved her sweet blush, vowing to make it happen as often as possible.

The wedding that next evening was a huge affair. Everyone was present, members of every house in attendance for the event, and even all of the peasants celebrated as they left the Sept, throwing flowers and cheering their congratulations as they had all loved Y/n since the moment she was presented to the world as a baby (often ordering the gold cloaks to feed the poor, especially the children in need). Rhaenyra and Daemon had shown up with the children late, clearly hating being there for a marriage they didn’t want and Aemond couldn’t help but silently gloat to Jace who glared at him all through dinner. As they locked eyes Aemond could not resist giving in to his petty attitude, leaning down and touching his lips to his wife’s and enjoying the feel of her lips pressing against his in return as she clearly enjoyed the show of affection. His nephew glared harder at him before eventually taking Helaena’s hand and bringing her to dance as if trying to anger the One-Eyed Prince but nothing could do that right now, not now that Aemond has everything he’s ever wanted.

‘Would you like to retire now my beautiful wife? I want to make this marriage official before one of the dozens of men here that are jealously staring, attempts to steal you away from me.’

‘As if anyone else could take my attention away from you.’ At that moment there was suddenly the sound of several women screaming and they both turned to see that right in front of the Kings table Jace was locked in a physical fight with a man on the dance floor. Aemond turned his wife’s body away and pulled her to his chest to shield her, not wanting her innocent eyes to see such violence. Even if he enjoyed watching Jace get hurt he knew that his wife would never be the same if she was forced to potentially witness him die and he loved her innocence too much to let that be ruined. The guards pulled the man out of the hall and most likely to the Black Cells after Daemon had saved Jace from being butchered, following along with a rage filled Rhaenyra to question the man. Y/n pulled away from her husband and moved to the floor, inspecting her nephews face and Aemond nearly growled as Jace leaned into the affection. ‘Are you alright nephew?!’

‘Yes, of course, I am fine. I had it under con-‘

‘Thank goodness Daemon was here! You could have been killed! What were you thinking?!’ She demanded and Aemond watched on as Jace’s face fell once again. ‘You are my sweet nephew, not a soldier or a brawler in the streets!’

‘I don-I’m-Uh…‘

‘She is right nephew, we could never forgive ourselves if you had been hurt attending our wedding…perhaps it is time for you to retire for the evening. Too much wine makes the mind do stupid things.’ Y/n nodded along with Aemond but Jace just glared at him.

‘This has nothing to do with you Uncle! Keep your thoughts to yourself! I don’t need-‘

‘Jacaerys! How Dare You?! Have care how you speak to your own family, Aemond is simply showing his concern for your well being! If this is your current state then he is correct, you should retire. I’m sure Luke will help you to your bed, won’t you sweet boy?’ Luke nodded his head, moving to take his elder brothers arm.

‘No! I don’t need to-‘

‘We should be retiring as well anyway. I must ensure my new wife is taken care of…’ Y/n blushed at her brothers words, leaning into his body as his hands found her waist comfortingly.

‘You are right brother, I think I have had enough partying for one day. We have a family dinner tomorrow evening anyway, we can celebrate more then.’ Suddenly Aegon, who had been drunkenly enjoying this whole situation, was grinning in excitement and stepping up to the newly weds, hand on his younger brothers shoulder.

‘Yes brother, time to retire. The bedding ceremony must be seen to before the end of the evening! I shall get our Grandsire and elder sister to-‘

‘No!’ Aemond snapped, everyone that was listening jumping in fright at the rage in his voice. He had felt his wife’s body tense as she pulled him closer by his jacket that she was now clinging to for dear life. ‘There will be no bedding ceremony, I will have neither my sister nor my wife gawked at in her most vulnerable state as if she is some cheap whore on the street of silk! Y/n is my wife now, and no one else will ever see her in such a way ever again. I assure you brother, I can handle consummating my marriage just fine without your wandering eyes and words of encouragement.’ Aemond looked back down at his bride and took her face into his hands, wiping away the tears that escaped in her moment of panic, no one having mentioned a bedding ceremony and Aemond himself having assured her that it would not be happening.

‘My young Prince, it is tradition to have a maester and at least 3 members of the family present to ensure the wedding is consummated. Your brother, myself, Rhaenyra and Daemon are going to-‘

‘No Grandsire, you are not-because if you try to enter our marital chambers tonight, or really any night from this moment forward for any reason under the sun, I will break your spine and be feeding you to either Vhagar or the Cannibal in the morning. I will let my wife decide which she would prefer to make a meal out of your body as it is her you are offending. I am uncomfortable with how determined you are to watch me make love to my wife, and I am telling you that it will not happen.’

‘Aemond! You cannot speak to your Grandsire this way, you must-‘ Aemond cut his mother off quickly, startling her as he had never spoken to her like this before.

‘Do not make the mistake of believing my words to be exaggeration mother, they are not. Anyone who steps foot into our marital chambers this night or any moment from this one onward will find themselves being fed to a dragon of my wife’s choosing. She is my wife! And it is my job to care for her as such! I will not have her humiliated or upset as she gives herself to me for the first time…or any time. That is the end of the discussion, however you may wait in the hall and once we are done I will deliver you the sheets from our bed as your proof. That will have to suffice because it is all that you are getting.’ He looked back down at Y/n who had tears in her eyes once again but this time they were not fearful or embarrassed, but grateful and full of love. ‘Come my wife, it is time that I make this marriage official and fill you with my son. I must give my wife all of the lovely Targaryen babies that her heart desires.’

Aemond bent down slightly before lifting Y/n into his arms like a babe, whisking her away and out of the party. ‘Thank you Aemond…I know I should just accept it but I-‘

‘My wife will never be seen by anyone but me in any state of undress from this moment on, and should anyone sneak a peak at you I will deliver you their heart and feed the remains to Vhagar. Don’t you ever apologize for being uncomfortable, it is my job as your husband to see to your safety and I take my job very seriously.’ He assured her, kissing her head as they reached their new marital chambers where all of their things had been moved to. As Aemond carried his sister through the door he kicked it shut behind himself and locked it with both locks before using the thick wood plank and barring the door so no one could get in without more work than it was worth.

‘Will you assist me with the dress, husband?’ She teased making Aemond smirk, eyes darkening at the thought of finally undressing the prize he has worked and waited for, for so long.

‘You need not even ask, my love. Come here.’ He quickly unlaced the back of her dress, allowing it to fall to the ground and leave her in her small clothes which she removed before crawling into the bed and looking back up at him nervously. ‘Relax my love, you will love every second of this, I promise you.’ He swore and she took a breath, nodding, though her eyes grew wide again as he removed his trousers and revealed himself to her for the first time, now naked as he crawled onto the bed, leaning down to kiss her, sucking his way down her neck and chest.

‘A-Aemond? What are you-‘

‘Shh…just relax. I’m going to take care of you Princess, just trust me.’ He lifted her leg up by the back of the knee and leaned in, pressing his mouth over her slit before trailing his tongue up between her pussy lips and brushing against her clit, causing her hips to jump against her will.

‘I’m s-sorry-‘

‘Don’t apologize again, just enjoy it.’ Aemond wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on the little bundle of nerves, brushing his tongue against it repeatedly which seemed to shut her up quickly, the only sound remaining was her never ending moans. He pressed a finger into her tight hole followed by a second one which earned him a soft mewling noise that he couldn’t help thinking was adorable as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her, stretching her as gently as he could to prepare her for him.

‘Oh Fuck! Aemond!’ She seemed to be hanging right on the edge in that moment until he curled his fingers up and just as he did she cried out at a whole new octave and her pussy squeezed his fingers in a vice grip, her body shaking while she panted as if she had run a long distance and he couldn’t help but find her flushed face absolutely beautiful.

‘You are so gorgeous…’ he crawled up over her and touched his lips to hers while spreading her legs. They wrapped around his waist before he pressed his cock against her hole and instantly felt as if he had died and gone to Heaven. 9 years he had waited after realizing how in love with Y/n he truly was, 9 years dreaming of this moment and wanting to make it just as special for her as it was for him just knowing how good his sister would make him feel, and he was right. Her cunt was like the sweetest vice grip he had ever experienced, he had never felt anything more wonderful in his entire life as he stilled his hips and just waited, not wanting to hurt her or cum so fast that she would inevitably laugh at him. ‘Are you alright?’ He questioned, wanting to make sure he wasn’t hurting her too badly but she nodded.

‘I want to see all of you brother…I never want you to hide any part of you from me again.’ She spoke as she reached up and pulled the eye patch from his face. He reflexively turned his head away but she caught him, turning his head back and pulling him down to kiss the scar both over and under his eye. ‘My husband nor my brother will ever have to hide from me, you are so strong…and I think my husband is the most handsome man in the 7 kingdoms. I will fight anyone who chooses to disagree with me.’ She teased making him smile before he choked on his breath, her pussy squeezing his member suddenly before she wiggled her hips. ‘Take me brother, I am all yours now!’

‘Yes you are…Mine! I will kill anyone who even thinks to disagree with me! All mine…’ Aemond spoke, shifting his hips back before pushing back in gently, doing it again only to thrust up into her this time. ‘Your husband is going to fill your belly so full tonight that no one will be able to question whether or not you are carrying my son. You want that, don’t you Princess? You want me to give you a baby?’

Y/n’s head nodded frantically as Aemond was now jack hammering his hips into her mercilessly, her whines prompting him to go faster. ‘Yes Brother! Yes! I want to give you everything! Fill my womb so that I may give you all the sons you want!’

‘Never going to stop breeding your cunt, Gods you feel magnificent! We’re going to end up having an entire army because I am never going to stop fucking you! Cum for me Princess and your husband will fill your womb, give me your pleasure!’ He demanded just before she cried out, her head thrown back as her cunt clamped down on him so hard he briefly thought it would hurt before the pleasure shot straight up his spine and he buried his cock into her as deeply as he could.

Aemond couldn’t tell how long they laid there breathing heavily and just holding each other, it felt as if they lost time before there was a knock on the door and Y/n flinched, instinctively trying to cover her body with a blanket despite no one entering. ‘My Prince? If you have finished we need-‘

‘Shut Up! Say Another Word and I Will Remove Your Tongue!’ He growled to the maester at the door. ‘Stay still my love, I will take care of it.’ He kissed her head and she smiled, humming contently before wincing as he pulled out of her, using his thumb to press his cum back into her abused hole as it leaked out. Aemond jumped up and pulled the sheet carefully from under her and off of the bed, rolling his eyes as he saw the small amount of blood on the white linen that he had made sure to fuck her on top of as he wasn’t willing to argue about them needing evidence that consummation took place. ‘I will be right back, then you are mine for the next week, because I do not plan on us leaving this bed for at least that long.’ He teased, kissing her nose and making her giggle as he pulled his trousers on and moved to the door, unbarring it and stepping outside while shutting the door behind him, unwilling to let anyone see his wife in her current state. At the door stood Maester Mellos along with his Grandsire, his mother and brother, and also Rhaenyra and Daemon. ‘I do not understand why this needed to be such a spectacle for so many of you but here.’ He shoved the sheet at the old man angrily. ‘Now, all of you will leave because if I find out anyone continued listening at the door I will slit you from balls to brains!’ The maester inspected the sheet before nodding to the Queen who genuinely looked sorry for her son.

‘I didn’t know you had it in you brother!’ Aegon laughed, Otto shoving him away quickly and dragging him down the hall before Aemond could move to cut him open as he wanted to, Daemon following along, clearly not caring about being there and only having done so as he loved his niece- to ensure Aemond was a gentleman.

‘Take care of your wife Aemond, I know you will be a good husband, better than your brother.’

‘Thank you mother-oh! We will be taking all of our meals in our chambers tomorrow-and for the foreseeable future. Please be sure a maid is sent to do that, my wife will need breaks to eat.’ Alicent didn’t look shocked at all, just nodding her head before she walked off.

‘Brother.’ Rhaenyra spoke, Aemond sighing before giving her his attention. ‘Take care of her. She is a gentle soul, if you hurt my sister I will make sure you do not live to see whatever children you give her.’ He rolled his eyes, not giving a fuck about his elder sisters threat.

‘If you think for a moment that I would harm her then you know nothing about our relationship at all-oh! Wait! You don’t…it took 9 years but I always knew that I would make her mine no matter what I had to do. I’m just thankful that father gave into my threat before you could give her away to that idiot Wolf in the North.’

‘W-what are you-‘

‘Of course, you don’t know! I made my mother aware of the fact that if you were successful in marrying off our sister that I would have mounted Vhagar and burned every inch of the Starks home, and every other home and stronghold that had snow covering it. She was never going to marry anyone else, that was decided quite a long time ago…it just that no one but I knew it.’ He explained, enjoying her shocked expression before opening the door to go back to his wife. ‘Oh! One more thing! You should make sure that you keep your eldest on a short leash, because if I find out-or Gods forbid catch him-peeping at my wife like he did under your watch, he will be locked in the Black cells until I decide to feed him to Vhagar. Your heir or not, father will not be able to argue with him dishonoring my wife and his favorite grandchild, and you know it…it was lovely to see you again sister.’ With that Aemond slammed the door in her face and turned back to his wife.

‘Is everything okay?’ Y/n asked, clearly nervous that the sheet wouldn’t be enough evidence and they would demand to watch this time.

‘Of course my Love, I will always ensure that it will be. Now, let us continue enjoying our marital bliss for as long as we can, hmm?’ Y/n smiled, dropping the blankets and revealing her naked chest to his eyes and he couldn’t help but imagine the breasts that he was in love with, swollen with milk to feed the boy that was growing in her womb. He was desperate to taste it himself, his cock growing hard in record time at the thought before he leapt into the bed beside her.

‘I want to stay here with you like this forever.’ She admitted, now sitting in his lap, his cock buried in her pussy as he enjoys worshipping her breasts with his mouth.

‘As you wish Sister…Always.’

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

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barbieaemond · 12 hours

Text

And I dream of a grave

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: angst (!), smut, too many references to graves/burying, mentions of Blood & Cheese, miscommunication, Aemond's coping mechanism is violence and sex, in this order (good for him)

Word count: 3.8k

Author's note: the gif is self explanatory. This is a prequel to A Curse for a Curse, but can be read as a standalone. Big thank you to @irenadel for giving me the idea and being one of the most supportive souls <3

Taglist: @ladystarksneedle @arcielee @multyfangirl

MASTERLIST | English is not my first language

This is more than tempting the Gods. This is forsaking and impudently turning their backs on them.

As she sits down at the banquet, her mother’s words echo through her mind like the vexing sound of the wind on a storm’s night. It sets an unpleasant weight on her lungs, the close and yet shapeless feel of something dreadful. She’s almost grateful, looking around, to ascertain she’s not the only fool dreading this whole act.

The Dowager Queen sits at the table, barely able to contain a grimace. Queen Helaena, she is certain, has never looked so pale, her eyes so vacuous and yet so full of something unknown, elusive, smoke clouding and clearing her unnatural stare. The Hand has conveniently made himself absent. She can’t blame him. Actually, she envies him. If only she too could have been spared such a farce. But as the wife of the King’s brother, the very one they’re all supposed to celebrate tonight, she cannot do that, can she?

To cheers and the blaring of trumpets, the King enters shoulder to shoulder with his brother, tall and proud in his stride, wearing dark green velvet for such a special occasion, and such a special title.

“Do you know how they’re going to call you from now on?” the Queen Mother had asked when he came back from Storm’s end, dripping rain and mud and war.

“I do, Mother.” Aegon had answered, twisting a knife from his seat at the head of the table; she had never caught that glint of satisfaction in his eyes, not like that; it wasn’t dimmed by wine or flesh, but sharp as the blade in his hand. “A title he should be proud of.”

Pride was ever the easiest thing to wear for Aemond, the softest glove gliding on his skin, born out of a pit so deep and full of insecurities and negligence that that same endless depth had grown out of proportion in order to fill itself. To even try scratching his pride was like trying to climb the highest mountain with bare hands. She had cut her palms open to do so.

“What happened, Aemond?” she had asked once alone in their chambers.

“You know what happened.”

“What really happened?”

His good eye had pierced her as if she were made of crystal, but his jaw was too set, on the verge of breaking his own teeth if he carried on keeping the guilt, and truth, trapped inside.

“I didn’t want to.” He whispered, coming down from the peak, “I didn’t want to kill him. I only wanted—”

“Revenge? Well, you had it. Did it make you feel good? Did you bring that boy peace at last?”

It took him a lifetime to say no; a whispered sound, choked even, as if he had bitten off his tongue to get it out of that pit where he had never looked again.

He was biting his tongue in the council, the faintest clench in his jaw but here, here in the council, here in the world, he had to keep that pit buried and stand straight on the highest peak, looking up and up, never down, never back. How could he, how could he admit he had lost control. It was easier, safer, to let them think of him a monster, rather than just human.

“I salute you, brother.” The King had said, raising his cup “True blood of the dragon! We shall have a feast in your honor!" Otto had merely lowered his head in defiance, going unnoticed in the eyes of his King and grandson, drunk with power and finally free of his mother's leash, unaware that a golden noose now held him in check.

He had summoned jesters, musicians, even some dancers to coddle his brother, and raise him higher and higher. She imagined she just had to wait for the fall. Or perhaps pray to the Seven to overlook the insult, to keep a mortal up there with them for a little more. But then again, they shouldn’t ask the Gods for mercy. Someone more unforgiving, more bloodthirsty. Someone who, just as her husband and his brother and each one of their cursed dynasty, did not listen to either Gods or men.

“A toast!” the King says at one point, turning to his left. “To my brother Aemond and a long overdue justice, is it not?”

Out of courtesy and duty, she grabs her cup and raises it, but as everyone at the table sips their wine, all she tastes is contempt, and the cup hits the surface untouched. But not unseen.

“Brother, wine may cloud my judgment, but it seems to me that your beloved wife does not share the sentiment of this fine evening. I wonder why.”

She holds the King’s demanding stare with a firm one, aware of Aemond looking at her even if his eye is fixed on the table. He has ignored her for the whole night, not sparing her a single glance. Because she owns the truth, doesn’t she, and it’s a knife pointed at his back.

“May I speak my mind, your Grace?”

There’s the slightest shift in Alicent’s posture, as if she were desperately waiting for her, or anyone, to cease all of this, to say this isn’t right.

Aegon pulls a thin, lazy smile and tilts his silver head, swirling his cup. “Why, of course, Princess. My brother tells me you have a habit of doing so.”

“Did he, now?” she resists the urge to scoff; such a despicable habit for a woman in this world.

“Fret not, good sister, I’m certain he holds no grudges against you for your silver tongue.”

“Oh, I’m quite certain too, your Grace. I know for a fact that he likes it.”

A few lords can do very little to hold their snickering, Aegon himself does not hide his malicious smirk, petty at the edges. It must run in the blood.

“Careful though, you don’t want to spend too much time talking, lest you leave my poor brother without any heir! It’s been a while since you two lovebirds tied the knot, isn’t that right?”

She glances beside her, surely Aemond won’t let that slight insult pass, but he stays still and silent like a statue. She can’t quite believe what she’s witnessing. This is the same man who would call the crowned head at the table wastrel, depraved, disgrace.

So much for a disgrace, now that he fosters your pride and lies.

“I can assure you, good brother, that the talking is well outweighed by other activities that involve very few words.”

Aegon plasters a big grin on his face, yet she’s not finished. “But perhaps the Gods are sparing me the burden of bringing a child in such troubled times. A realm at war is not the best place to live in, is it not?”

“It depends on which side you’re on, Princess.”

There’s suspicion in his tone, but she just blinks at him. “My apologies, I was not aware that my loyalty to your House, and my husband’s, was to be questioned.”

“Come now. We are bound by what if not words?”

“I was under the impression that the Crown should fear his own kin more than a simple foreign girl from the West.”

At that, Helaena lets out a strange noise, something close to a wince, and silence falls all over. It is only now that Aemond undoes the stone he walled himself in and acts as he always does when he feels belittled, or worse, threatened. He shuts her out.

“I’m afraid my wife is growing tired, brother. ’Tis best for her to retire.”

She bites her tongue and turns her head. There’s no mistake in his tone, that is an order. She stares at him and he stares back, blankly, and then, just as it is expected of her, she obeys.

She goes without saying a word, aware of Aemond’s eye on her, of Aegon’s little victorious giggle. He snaps his fingers and two dancing girls flock to his brother. She knows this because she can’t resist but turning before disappearing. The girls are said to come from Lys, no less. But he’s not sparing them a single glance. His eye follows her out of the hall, and even after.

Candles almost extinguished, casting a soft glow in the bedchamber, dim but enough to make the shape of her body visible under the covers.

“I know you’re pretending to be asleep.” He says, placing his dagger and eyepatch on the nightstand.

She doesn’t bother to wait a single moment to fly her eyes open. “Was I not supposed to pretend I was tired?”

When she gets no answer, she turns to face him, finding him on his feet near the bed, undoing the buttons of his doublet. His eye is on her, though, wide, as someone ready to hunt but seeing traps everywhere.

“Did you enjoy your feast?” she asks with piqued interest. “Such a shame that I missed most of it. I was eager to watch the girls from Lys dance. How were they?”

“Enough. You should thank me for dismissing you. You were bordering on high treason.”

“Since when telling the truth is considered high treason?”

“Is that what you were going to say? The truth? To make me look like a fool in front of the whole court?”

“I was only going to say that the feast was an insult and a challenge to the Gods or any common sense. And I know that beneath all the pats on the shoulder and the endorsement on your brother’s part, you are of the same mind.” she hopes to see the barest glimpse of validation on his face, at least here, where he can leave behind his pride and admit he made a mistake. Is that what you call starting a war?

But his expression is as closed as ever, wary.

She wishes it would hurt less than it does. “Of all the people ready to betray you, how quick you are to assume I’d be the first.”

“We’re bound by words, are we not?”

“Take your brother off your mouth.” She says absentmindedly; she tries to not let it sting, but it does anyway. It is a low blow, and she knows he does not believe it. He has raised the walls, coiling like a snake, and there’s no point trying to climb and risk cracking her skull open on the ground. She will have to wait for him to come down. “Then perhaps I should consider my father’s proposal.”

She leaves the bed and grabs a letter lying open on the desk. “He wrote me this letter. That is why my mother came all the way here, apparently to see how her daughter was faring.”

Aemond eyes it with the barest twitch in his lips, then looks up into her eyes and, with a sigh, she clears her throat.

“My dearest daughter,

It is with great concern and sadness that I write you this letter.

Words have reached me about the recent events involving Storm’s End and young Prince Lucerys’ demise. My spirits are low when thinking of the fate you’re enduring. But I want you to think carefully of this: annulments are rare but possible. Even more so since you bore no heirs yet. You cannot remain married to a Kinslayer, it is the highest of sins. I only need a word from you, daughter, and I shall hastily consult with a High Septon.”

She can barely register his arm moving, only sees his hand snatching the letter out of her grip, crumpling the paper between his fingers. Nostrils flaring, eye widening, she reads insult all over his face. About time.

“Is that it, Aemond? Is that the reason you’d think I would betray you? Because I didn’t bleed on a birthing bed yet? Is that how you measure my loyalty? What of all the times I drew your bath, washed your hair, pulled the boots off your feet? What about that curtain—“ she adds, pointing to the windows “and the fact that I told the maid to keep that side always closed so the sun will not bother your eye? Do you think I did all of this because of some empty words?”

He looks as if she has just slapped him. Mistrust and bewilderment run together all over his sharp features, trying to win one another, and she waits and waits, and she begs as all the purest things must be pleaded, wordlessly.

Come down. Come down. Lay down with me. In our bed, a grave, it matters not. I'll take the shovel and do the burying.

But he stands still on his high and cursed perch, the grip on the letter loosens, his shoulders slump a little, because this, this comes so easily. Violence. It’s the other glove he wears like second skin.

“You will write to your father and tell him if I hear another word about annulments, I will have his head for treason. And as for you… you tell a living soul what you know, and you shall join the Silent Sisters. You won’t even have to vow your silence, for I shall take your sharp tongue first.”

She watches him go, standing in the middle of the room like a fool; her hands bleeding still and a plea, unheard, choking to death in her chest.

Her hands heal, stay whole for so long. She feels she cannot reach him this time, no matter how hard she tries to climb. She finds no footholds, no inlets, until she stops looking for any.

She finds she has no strength to do it anymore. They’re all dead anyway, each of them in their own way, their own burial.

The king drinks and rages and drinks and rages. Helaena rocks on herself all day long, chasing the highs and lows of her laments. Jaehaera stares at her mother with her small lips sewn, her eyes wide and the Queen Mother weeps and weeps, wondering if the little girl is watching her mother go mad with grief or yet again her twin brother’s head rolling on the ground like one of her toys.

And Aemond…she does not know where Aemond chose to bury himself. He spends the day out, trying to escape the smothering grip of the Stranger’s claws, his curse…or is it only retribution?

Sometimes he’s in the training yard, sometimes that same yard becomes theater for revenge. He kills whoever helped Blood and Cheese enter the Keep, man or woman, he doesn’t care. He tortures them, and she wants to beg him to stop, to tell him that torturing one, two, or one hundred men won’t stop guilt from torturing him.

So, he wanders restlessly, basks in small and big cruelties, until the sun sets and she’s aware, as the bed dips under his weight, that she is his own burial. He takes her at any time, in any place, be it the bed, the desk, or bent over the vanity, she cannot do anything to stop him. She doesn’t want to and yet she aches to do it. Because it’s always sudden, and harsh and hurtful when he pulls her hair, when he spares no time to stoke her desire, when he keeps her bent with her back turned and a firm hand on her neck like some kind of punishment.

It never used to be like this. It had been playful, teasing, painfully slow as if he were separating salt from water, and then fast, urgent, unraveling for two inexperienced newlyweds.

But it had never been like that. There was no joy in it. Only a duty to be fulfilled. Some twisted way to gain control, while anyone else kept slipping from his hands. Just as Vhagar slipped out of his control on that fateful night of storm.

He remembered that dark thrill pounding in his veins, the laughter gushing out of his throat like poison. He couldn’t bring himself to stop. He didn’t know whether Vhagar was fueling his fire or the other way around, perhaps both. Just a little more, he’d thought, as Arrax batted his wings frantically, desperate, mirroring his young rider, to escape the gaping jaws of the Queen of All Dragons.

That’s what he wanted. He wanted to relish in his nephew’s dread, he wanted to drink it. He wanted him alone, desperate, hopeless, just as he had been.

And then he felt it, the shift in the ancient fire pit he was riding, like a boat tipping over and there was no helm to grab onto and bring it back to land. He had sunk his own family into the bleak abyss of Daemon Targaryen’s soul.

He had come to collect, thoroughly. A son for a son, yes, but he had taken much more than Jaehaerys. He’d taken Helaena as well. Even Jaehaera.

Will she ever be able to speak again?

Will my Mother ever forgive me?

Words never spoken, stuck on his tongue and then gagged and swallowed. He cannot look down, cannot look back. He must look up and forward, like soldiers do. To the next battle, to war.

But there’s this woman. And the sight of her in his bed that makes his breath hitch and for two reasons entirely opposite to one another. The first is the most ancient one. But she’s also a thorn in his side, for she knows. She knows everything. She knows all his peaks and depths, every brick in his walls and how to dismantle them; she knows he’s strong and weak, that he’s scared and guilty and worthy of his mother’s contempt, but he cannot bear any of this in front of her.

He flees her presence during the day, only to impose himself on her for the whole night. She cannot refuse him. And he cannot have her prying and dismantling his well-crafted walls and lies, so he takes her and takes her and takes her until he works themselves up to exhaustion and she’s a rag doll in his hands. It serves the purpose, though. As long as she has his cock in her mouth, as long as he harshly pounds into her, cutting her breath from the inside, she cannot ask questions. As long as he keeps chasing his pleasure, and his rugged breaths muffle his own ears, he cannot think straight.

He's close now and it’s the second time already. The sheets are damp beneath their bodies, his back glints with sweat, damps his forehead as he thrusts inside her one more time. They’re lying on their side, but he keeps her caged against him, his arm has slipped on the mattress and under her neck to keep her still, with her back to him. With his cheek glued to hers, he croons praises in her ear, falling mindlessly from his lips but like drops in the ocean. Once, she would redden, smile blissfully, or challenge him, to go deeper, or harder, or both, but she’s a limp thing now. A mere body panting upon being fucked by another, that’s all.

This is possession. Or a desperate attempt to. Each night, he holds her as if it’s the last time and she could slip away from him at any moment, turning her back on him. She can feel it now, in the way he’s gripping her shoulder, the way his nails dig in her skin, carving into her bones: stay with me. Please. Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave.

But it’s him keeping her away, turning her own back on him.

Don’t you know, she wishes to tell him, that I won’t, ever. I won’t. No matter how cursed you are. I won’t. I won’t.

He grabs her thigh, resting it on his hip, spreading his long fingers on her skin, spreading her legs so he can find the perfect angle and picks up the pace. She shudders with every thrust, gasping with her throat dry, feeling the long bridge of his nose sinking in her cheek, his grunts growing rougher and deeper; some strange choked sound at the back of his throat.

He comes quietly, panting shallowly against the damp fabric of her nightgown. And he stays there, claw gripping her shoulder, head sunk between her neck and collarbone, and deep to the hilt buried in her.

A tear rolls down her cheek. She doesn’t know where it comes from, who she is mourning, she can’t tell these days. Perhaps she’s mourning him, who he was, who he is now and who he is forcing himself to be. She doesn’t know where the deception lies anymore. She wishes she could push it back in, prays that it goes unnoticed, swallowed along with all the others, but she should know by now, the Gods are not in her favor anymore, if they ever had been.

“Why are you crying?”

She turns her head, and her breath hitches. The gemstone glints, yes, but she’s too struck by his eye to even notice the sapphire. There’s something raw there, bare, more than his very skin now. It’s the first time she sees that look on him, torn, heavy lidded and not by pleasure.

This is the burden of grief.

She wonders if that’s the reason he’s so keen on fucking her with her back turned, so she can’t see him. Perhaps she didn’t look hard enough. She thought he had risen too high, out of her reach, of anyone’s. She thought he would never fall, not in every sense of the word.

Hence, she’s at a loss for words, slightly pulling herself up, when he slowly comes down; he curls into himself, into her lap, resting his head there like a child. No Kinslayer, no Dragon Prince, no son, no brother. No husband. Just a human, bare in the skin and soul.

Aemond wraps his hand around her knee, gently, and then tighter and tighter, shutting his eye. He’s on land now, but the room is spinning, the whole world is spinning and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He feels he started it all, he threw a spinning top and got sucked into it. And she’s the only firm thing he can hold onto.

“Do you think I’m cursed?” he whispers, the barest flutter of his long eyelashes against his cheekbone.

But she has no answer. All she has are her hands, sliding on his naked skin, through his loose hair, gently, as if touching the thinnest glass, sealing the cracks. Her palms slice open again.

“Aren’t we all?”

And I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more."

- The Castle, Franz Kafka.

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prideprejudce · 3 days

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listen alicents roots may be brown but she is just as messy as any full blooded targaryen bleach blonde could only DREAM of being like the girl is in love with rhaenyra!! the same woman trying to take the crown away from her son. who is also technically her stepdaughter. who is also her kids older half sister. the same woman her entire family is going to war with. "You targaryens do have queer customs" ALICENT girl you are up there playing chess with the CHAMPS. you saw the targaryens weirdo family rituals and said BET I can out freak all of you hoes and you DID IT

#rhaenicent #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #hotd #hotd season 2 #rhaenyra x alicent #alicent bb you were married to your true loves FATHER you are a weirdo targaryen just like everyone else im sorry babe

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dried-mushroom · 2 days

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My Queen

Aemond 'one-eyed' Targaryen x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, incest (uncle & niece), oral sex (m receiving), public handjob, fingering, missionary sex, porn with plot, short slow burn, Aemond is head over heels for you, soft! Aemond

Enjoy!!!!!

You were the firstborn daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Harwin Strong. No stark resemblance to the knight as do your siblings, as you were the only one born with silver Targaryen hair. This made you stand out compared to your brothers, as their heritage was a common topic for gossip, and they did not have a single feature from Ser Laenor, your mother's betrothed. You were still considered a true Targaryen and not a bastard child nonetheless.

It had been years since your family had been back to Kings landing, years since you'd seen your uncles, Aegon and Aemond. You had less than fond memories of the older prince as a teen, he was always trying to get you alone and mentioning how he could satisfy you better than any other lord or knight. You often ignored his words but sometimes he was just too vile to bare.

His brother on the other hand intrigued you. He was much quieter than Aegon, but he spoke to you often. Usually, it was only small talk when you ran into the prince. You honestly didn't mind, as you may have developed a liking for the younger prince. What you weren't expecting was he already wanted you for himself.

The clearest memories between you and Aemond were when your brothers and your uncle decided to tease him about his lack of claiming a dragon. You knew how cruel Jace and Luke could be, as they enjoyed making your life harder so to speak. You lectured them both when you found out what they did to Aemond and searched for the young prince.

When you found him perched against an old oak tree, with his head in his hands, you sat next to him. As he turned to face you, you could see how red and raw his eyes were, obviously from crying. You tried to apologize for your brother's behaviour but he didn't want your pity, instead, he told you not to worry, and that he would make sure he gained a dragon. He didn't enjoy being harsh towards you and apologized later that day by gifting you a book with a note inside.

Another less fond memory of your prince was the night of Lady Laena's funeral. The entire day had an aura of gloom, and you could tell the tension was tightening between your family and Aemond's. Rhaenyra and Alicent were clawing at each other's throats every time they were close and the rumour that your mother had birthed four bastards was certainly a rumour that the HighTowers were eager to entertain, just so that your mother was seen as an untrustworthily whore.

Yet you remained close to Aemond, usually strolling around the grounds of the castle together or watching him train to duel with his brother and Ser Criston. But that dreadful night something changed, that night he finally got one of the two things he always wanted; to claim a dragon. Vhagar, Laena's dragon was sleeping peacefully until Aemond woke her, and through his bravery and her compliance, He successfully bonded with her by commanding her to calm herself and serve him in High Valyrian.

He quickly got the hang of it and rides the dragon around High Tide before landing. Vhagar was the biggest dragon in Westeros and the most powerful of any dragons the Targaryen's had. Whilst his little flying escapade, Laena's daughters noticed his absence and could hear the familiar roar coming from their mother's dragon, so they rushed over to Jace and Luke to help them find who had stolen the dragon, which was meant for the eldest Velarylon girl, Rhaena.

You were resting against a cold stone wall, seemingly fazed, when your younger brothers and cousins rushed up to you and told you about your uncle. You suddenly recalled hearing the familiar noise of the dragon and Aemond had excused himself from you as he 'felt ill' earlier. You trailed behind the four as they went to inside the castle searching for Aemond. When they spotted the young prince, they all started arguing over who had a claim to the dragon. You stayed behind them, not entirely wanting to be there.

Without a second thought, Rhaena hit Aemond for an insult he had said to her about her mother, but the latter was stronger and threw her to the ground. Your brothers quickly joined in the fight. Jace pushed Aemond to the ground and he broke Luke's nose somehow. You felt conflicted, about who to defend; either your brothers or the boy you've liked for what seemingly felt like eons.

You tried to get in between Luke and Aemond to break them up. Aemond wasn't thinking straight and accidentally hit you with a rock he had in his hand, to use on Luke. As soon as he realised what he did he dropped the rock and started apologising profusely, but Jace thought it was the perfect time to get revenge on the prince for hurting his big sister and stealing their cousin's dragon, as he threw sand into the boy's eyes and Luke slashed the boy in the right eye, blinding him.

You quickly snapped out of your pain haze and quickly rushed over to the wailing boy, whose face was now covered in blood. You couldn't believe what your brothers had done. Everything became a blur after that moment, you remember blood soaking your light-coloured dress and guiding Aemond through the castle to his mother. Him clutching you tightly, still muttering apologies to you, your relatives spewing their disgust at you for aiding the prince.

The last time you and the prince spent time was the most memorable. It was the day your mother remarried to her uncle, Daemon. You, Jace, and Luke were told by your mother that you all would be leaving for dragonstone and to say your goodbyes, the handmaidens would pack your belongings but be ready to leave King's landing before noon. This sudden news upset you heavily as you would be separated from Aemond and your friends for God knows how long. You wandered around the castle soaking in each and every detail as if it were the last. You made your way to Aemond's chambers, worried about his reaction to your leaving.

The both of you got incredibly closer ever since that fight, seemingly you both were joined at the hip, always sharing longing glances that teetered on the border of platonic. Once you reached the door and knocked, the familiar face of your blonde prince greeted you, eagerly letting you inside his room. You picked at your cuticles, not wanting to share the news with Aemond. He noticed the disdain on your face, and spoke "What's wrong, Princess Y/N?" you sighed, "Mother wants me and my brothers to travel to dragon stone for some time, she told us to say our goodbyes and to be ready to leave at midday. I'm so sorry." His smile faulted, as he took in your words.

He felt almost ill, his beloved was leaving so abruptly, he didn't know what to say, as he knew he couldn't sway Rhaenyra. Without a thought, he closed the gap between you both, slowly pressing his lips to yours, in a tender kiss. He gripped the fabric of your dress, either in a plea to hold you even closer or to keep you with him even longer. You couldn't help but feel something hard pressing into your thigh, your cheeks were ablaze when you realised what that something was.

You broke the kiss, knowing you didn't have much time left. He must have realised and quickly retrieved something from one of his drawers. It was a small bracelet, decorated in emeralds, the Hightower colour. You couldn't help but smile a little as he slipped it around your wrist. You gave him one last peck before saying the last words you'd say to him for the next six years. "Please write to me, or maybe even visit, I won't forget you, I beg you to do the same, goodbye my prince." "I will my princess, don't doubt it. Goodbye y/n." You left his chambers, not realising his brother was waiting outside his door.

Aegon grabbed your arm tightly and whispered in your ear. "You're leaving? fuck sake, why can't Rhaenyra just send the twats you call brothers away, she really wants to torture me. " You tried wiggling out of his harsh grip, but he wouldn't let go, "You know, I get so fucking hard when you cross my mind, I can't stop thinking about you swollen with my seed, being my little whore and no one el-" Aegon's perverted wishes were quickly diminished as your younger brother called out your name from the entrance of the corridor. Aegon released your arm but said one last thing, "Goodbye my betrothed." You knew that was a sick joke, Aemond had already told you that Aegon and Helena were already betrothed. He just really wanted to fuck with you. You muttered a goodbye with gritted teeth and rushed towards your brother and out of the castle.

Six Years Later:

Your mother and Daemon had decided that it would be best to visit Kings Landing once again, for your ill grandsire and to reaffirm Jace as the heir to the driftwood throne. You wouldn't mind being back at King's landing once again, this time as an 18-year-old woman, you were soon destined to be betrothed to some lord or knight. Another reason would be to see familar faces, such as Helaena, both of you were close. The Velayron girls you missed as well, as they were always sweet to you.

The two men you were dreading to see were Aegon and Aemond. Aegon for the most obvious reasons, he is a fucking pervert. As for Aemond, he in a way broke your heart. He promised to write to you but never acted on that promise, you had written three letters to the prince but he never wrote back. All those years, not one fucking word to you.

At first, you were deeply hurt but you came to understand that you could not let such a foolish thing belittle you as you were to be heir to the iron throne once your mother became Queen, you could not be seen as weak. You begged your mother to let you ride dragon back to the castle but she insisted to take a carriage, to your disappointment. Later that morning you all set off.

When the sight of the familiar castle came into your vision, you became an internal puddle of emotions, relief for finally being back home, happiness for finally being able to reunite with old friends and uneasiness for seeing the boy you loved, a man. Once the carriage abruptly stopped, you all stepped out and you let out a sharp exhale as all the Targaryen decorations that you remembered had been replaced by religious symbols.

Your stepfather made a few comments about Queen Alicent and her father was behind that, humourous but wasn't appropriate. You all were greeted and You, Jace and Luke were allowed to wander the grounds for a while. You found yourself walking near where the duelling practice was taking place and heard the smooth familiar voice belonging to Aemond.

"Nephews, You've come to train?"

You couldn't help but sigh gently when you saw how attractive Aemond had become. His hair was twice as long (more to pull on), and he was more toned and adorned with a black eye patch from the accident between him and your brother. As you walked closer to Aemond and ser Criston, you took in how skilful Aemond had become with a sword.

You joined your brothers and when Aemond saw you for the first time in years he almost forgot what he was even doing. That's how mesmerizing you are to him. Once he managed to make the Knight yield he strode towards you three. Aemond hadn't seen you in six years and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, how your beautiful blonde hair framed your face, how your eyes were just as vibrant as they were and he couldn't help but let his eyes linger over your figure in your black & red dress, how he could get a glimpse of your cleavage as he towered over you.

"My niece, how I have missed you."

His tone was sultry and he gave your hand a quick kiss before giving your brothers a nasty look.

"Jace. Luke. Can you give me and your sister a moment alone?"

They raised their eyebrows but walked away leaving the both of you alone. He sighed before grabbing both of your hands into his.

"My dear y/n, Before you speak, listen to me. I never wanted to break that promise I made to you all those years ago. Alas, my mother had other thoughts, she forbade me from any contact with you."

"But-But why? I never did anything to offend her?"

He knew how you felt, his mother was a confusing bitch. Wanting to place Aegon, a drunk who regularly commits infidelity, as King on the iron throne. Instead, he believed he himself should have a claim to the throne. He was the one who studied history and philosophy. He was the one who trained with a sword. Oh, what he would truly do to be King and have you by his side as his Queen.

"Her reasoning seemed uncouth, as it was since you were the daughter of Rhaenyra and bare no resemblance to Ser Laenor. My mother decided that you would be unfit for me. But I couldn't go one day all those years without a thought of you trickling into my mind. Hm, you're still wearing that?"

You looked down at your wrist and couldn't help it as the blush rose to your cheeks at his words, it was the gift he left you on your last day spent together, he felt an odd sense of pride knowing you still cherished that simple bracelet. He pulled you into a tight embrace with your hands still in his grip. His large arms wrapped around you almost lovingly, and he rested his head upon yours. He murmured into your hair but before you could ask what he had said you both were interrupted by a sharp feminine voice.

"Aemond! come here. We need to talk"

And with that, Aemond sighed before releasing you to follow his cunt of a mother. You turned around to find Daemon smirking at you and laughing as he walked away, and you could tell that today would be interesting, to say the least.

Once the clock struck midday, most of everyone had made their way to the throne room to start their petitions for the heir to drift mark. Your grandsire was too sick to sit on the throne so Otto and Alicent were the ones listening. You followed your family and stood with your younger brothers. Once Vaemond, your technical uncle had proposed he be the heir to the driftwood throne which had made your entire family worry as you all knew that the Hightowers were going to do anything in their power to weaken your family. But you couldn't help but smile when you noticed how Aemond was looking at you from across the room.

When it was finally time for Rhaenyra to speak for your brother and as soon as she started the doors opened to the throne. You all turned and saw your grandfather, struggling to walk down the stairs to his place on the throne. Daemon helped his brother onto the iron throne before letting him speak. The king had reaffirmed your brother's place on the driftwood throne and you were extremely happy for him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him how happy you were for him. You couldn't see how Aemond balled his hands into tight fists of jealousy, he didn't enjoy seeing you touching any other males, nonetheless, the boy who took his eye when they were younger.

After that gruesome turn of events, you were expected to go to a family dinner, your family and the Hightowers together how could that possibly go wrong? That evening you had walked into the dining room, lit up by numerous glowing candles. You noticed how almost everyone had been seated and there was an empty chair beside Aemond. Once you sat down, you saw how he looked at you, abashedly adoringly. He leaned down and whispered in your ear.

"I can't wait for tonight, I have something special planned for you. I know you'll like it."

You shivered as his warm breath trickled down your neck. You both shot back up once you heard Alicent cough loudly. You both noticed how Luke was staring almost disgustedly at the scene in front of him, but Aemond just smirked at him knowingly. In the middle of Alicunt saying grace, you felt a warm hand on your skirts. Your eyes flicked open to meet Aemond's closed ones, he seemed awfully proud of himself. What he wasn't expecting was to feel your hand gently brush against his growing erection. You watched how his breath hitched as his mother finished saying grace. As each family member conversed with one another you were trying not to concentrate on the hand trailing up your inner thigh to your arousal.

"So y/n have you been betrothed yet? I have just never seen you with a suitor yet."

Helaena's words broke you out of your haze, you stumbled around your words.

"Uh, not yet haven't. I feel as if men just are not so attracted to me."

You didn't notice Aemond's slight disappointment at your words, as you knew how much he adored you, inside and out.

"Well I'm sure you'll find someone soon, don't worry marriage isn't so appealing as it seems"

The subtle insult to Aegon made you laugh, a sound Aemond treasured. He truly enjoyed seeing you happy, he also wanted to see the noises of pleasure you'd make, squirming on his cock. He took his middle finger and trailed it over your underwear, just over your wet slit. You let out a quiet mewl but contained yourself quickly as you remembered where you were, you glared at Aemond but found him already looking at you. As food was brought out one plate by one, you took the opportunity to seek a small sliver of revenge. When a servant placed a whole roasted pig in front of the both of you, bad taste in your opinion. You popped open Aemond's pants and slipped your hand inside and into his undergarments to pull out his already leaking cock. You both were concealed by the meal in front of you and the large white tablecloth.

You lazily stroked his cock, every so often you'd spread the pre-cum gathered on his tip, making him grip your thigh hard in desperation. He honestly didn't think you'd do this to him, he only had imagined you doing such things to him in his more...personal fantasies. What he was planning to do under the table would have to wait but he'd repay you back generously. After some looming stares, your grandfather spoke for one last thing before he passed, to have one evening with his family with their grievances put aside. Your mother had commended Alicent on her loyalty to her father and her devotion to her husband and Alicent had returned her graciousness, saying she would make a fine queen. Everyone drank from their cup. You kept your pace while everyone seemed finally happy to be in each other's presence, everyone was smiling and laughing with one another, unknowingly witnessing you jerk off your uncle under the table.

Aemond knew he wasn't going to last long as you were so good for him. He loved how you were pleasuring him, and he honestly loved how no one even noticed the debauched action you both were doing. You stroked him one more time before he let out an extremely loud groan and he came, warm spurts all over your hand. You sighed internally and meet the disturbed faces of your family. They all knew what you had just done to Aemond and how Aemond fully enjoyed it. Without a second thought he put himself away, dragged you out of your chair and out of the room. The entire room was silent until Aegon laughed loudly and congratulated his brother earning multiple stares of disapproval.

You and Aemond ran out out of earshot and leant against the cold wall of a stairwell, breathless. You couldn't help but laugh about the situation you both put yourselves in, rightfully you both just scarred your entire family and knew the lectures you were bound to receive the next day. The first one to speak was Aemond, stumbling around, trying to figure what he would say until what he had spend all day planning popped into his head.

"Thank you my princess. I truly enjoyed that, shall I repay the favor?"

"What are you offering my prince?"

Aemond took your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. He met your soft gaze before leading you up the stairs into his chambers. When he opened the door, you saw a simple (choice of flower) on the edge of the bed next to a small wrapping of parchment paper. You wondered how in all of kings landing how he knew your favourite flower. He guided you towards the bed and sat down, you subconsciously played with the petals of the flower now in your lap. Aemond places the small wrapped into your hand,

"Open it, I know you'll like it."

You took Aemond's words and carefully unwrapped the gift. You couldn't believe it, it was a beautiful ring, gold with small emeralds engraved on the sides.

"My dear y/n, Will you take me? be my Queen?"

You nodded eagerly as you pressed your lips to his.

"Of course my King."

He pulled you into his lap, his hands wrapped around you deliciously. You couldn't help but moan as he slid his tongue into your mouth. He had a tight grip on your skirts, pulling you closer to the hardness in his pants. He broke the kiss to trial small bites over your neck, leaving a purple trail in his wake. He couldn't help himself but grind you down on his lap, trying to get as much friction as he could. You were more than happy to reprociate. He mumbled curses under his breath as he layed you down onto the soft sheets, taking in your debauched beauty. He slowly unzipped your dress, pulling it off completely, leaving you only in a pair of undergarments. He could feel his cock twitch just looking at you, and he was on his knees infront of you, and lazily stroked himself through his trousers, tempting himself.

He quickly made work of his vest and the white shirt underneath. He was about to get rid of his pants but before he could even reach the button, he felt your mouth against his bulge, his hips bucked against you at the warm feeling. He squeezed his eyes shut as you pulled out his cock once again and this time wrapped your mouth around his tip. He moaned in ecstasy at foreign feeling, he couldn't help but thrust into your mouth, trying to chase more. You braced both your hands onto his thighs as you took more of his dick. He absolutely loved you like this; you were so beautiful it hurt. You could tell by his stuttering hips that it wouldn't be long until he came, you gave him one more long lick up his shaft and pulled his weeping cock out of your mouth. You could see the slight disappointment on his face but you reassured him.

"I want you to cum in me."

He groaned when he heard those debauched words leave your pretty mouth. He couldn't wait to ruin you. You laid back down, and he laid himself above you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. He slowly rubbed the tip of his cock languidly over your glistening slit, teasingly.

You whimpered, already too stimulated for his teasing, "please"

"Please what? You need to use your words."

"Please. I need you to fuck me."

Without a second thought, he slowly pushed his hips forward, entering you, you let out a gasp at the feeling of absolute fullness. Aemond let out a shaky breath, finally getting to feel you after longing for you for years. Aemond begun to thrust his hips quickly, You arched your back, as lewd sounds erupted from your mouth and cunt as the pleasure increased.

Groans escaped Aemond as he could feel your cunt squeezing him so tight, his platinum locks framed your face as he continued his ministrations. You could feel the tip of his cock bumping your cervix with every thrust, he tantalizingly dragged his cock out and in, pressing deeper and Aemond let one of his hands wander to your clit, fumbling the bundle of nerves in delicate circles

Aemond ducked his head between your tits, licking the mounds and swirling around your bouncing nipples. They grew more sensitive. He pinched one nipple and took the other in his toothy mouth, nibbling and sucking at your flesh.

"Oh fuck Aem, I think I'm going to cum."

Aemond practically whimpered against you, a beautiful sound, he broke away from your chest,

"Cum on my cock, my Queen."

The combination of the abuse on your pussy and tits, that tight coil in your stomach finally fucking snapped and you gushed, all over Aemond's cock and naval. It didn't take a minute more for Aemond to fill you up with his seed, you felt the warm spurts of his cum inside you and couldn't describe the feeling you felt, was it adoration? Was it love? you couldn't tell as he slipped out of you, leaving your pussy clenching at nothing and he laid beside you. You rested your head on his chest and gazed up into his eye, he whispered lovingly;

"I cannot wait until we are married on Dragonstone and you swell with our children."

You let yourself fall asleep unaware of the arguments that you and Aemond will deal with in the morrow.

The end

This was a draft from last year but since Hotd season 2 will be released I knew I NEEDED to post this. Hope y'all like it.

#house of the dragon #i am down bad #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra my beloved #hotd #aemond one eye #daemon targeryan #hotd season 2

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danytar · 2 days

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–“ The Conquerors Reborn𖧧”

Pairing: King!Aegon!Targaryen X OC!Sisters!Wives’

Warnings: Incest level max, vulgarity,cursing,sex, breeding kink,expletives, fondle breasts,( f receiving ),+18,aegon is married to his two sisters, b&c didn't happened yet.

𝑨!𝑵: 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝑰 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒊𝒕 ♡.

“Enemies to the sea..enemies to the sky.. enemies to the north.. whatever stands in our way..we will defeat it”. daenerys replied throwing the black king's piece off the chessboard.

Aegon groaned with a dramatic moan as he lost the game, resting his head on the surface of the table. he looked up at her with a pouty face.

“ughhh.. you truly have no mercy for my feelings.. you destroyed me in chess again”.

“I wasn't talking about chess aeg”. She looks at him seriously and bends down to pick up the king from the ground again.

“I know what the fuck you're talking about, I'm not a fool”. The King sipped his wine, and looked at her with a tired look that weighed him down. She put the King on the chess board and looked at him seriously.

“Don't look at me like that dany”.

“Another quarrel?” Suddenly they are interrupted by a third, familiar voice entering the room, his head snapped to the side to look at her, a mix of surprise and relief flooding his senses.

“oh thank the gods, Viserra” he muttered, letting out a short sigh as he stared at his second wife with a small smile, Viserra approached Aegon's chair and wrapped her arms around him from behind the chair.

Aegon felt her arms wrap around him, his tense body almost instantly relaxes and melts into her embrace. he reached up to rest his hands over hers and interlocked their fingers, closing his eyes to fully enjoy her presence behind him.

“i honestly thought we were going to have an argument..”

“You are being hard on him, sister.” Viserra chuckles and looks at daenerys with a small smile, Daenerys couldn’t deny what Viserra said, and she let out a small sigh of defeat.

“.. he does deserve it though,” she muttered, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest. “… he’s being lazy.”

Aegon groaned at her comment, throwing his head back dramatically as he muttered under his breath.

“I am not being lazy.. i just.. don’t feel like doing anything today..”he knew that she was partially right, but it’s true that he just didn’t feel like doing anything for today.

“The war is knocking on our door, you know? ”dany sighs and looks at them.

“FUCK THE WAR Can I be happy for a moment?”. He growled and looked at Daenerys,she flinched at his sudden outburst and looked at him with a slightly surprised look.

“I am not saying you can’t be happy. But I think you need to start doing your duties and take things more seriously. The war is coming and you need to be ready to rule.”Her words were stern, and she couldn’t hide the slight disappointment in her eyes when she looked at him.

“Guys, guys, will you calm down? both of you? ”Viserra spears with a soft tone, both Aegon and Dany glanced at Viserra, a mix of irritation and frustration in their eyes.

“fine.” Aegon muttered with a low growl, leaning back and closing his eyes while throwing his head back.

Daenerys sighed softly, closing her eyes as she tried to compose herself, Viserra chuckles “Now.. Kiss each other and say you're sorry.”Aegon opened his eyes and immediately shook his head, while Daenerys rolled her eyes.

“absolutely not.” Dany muttered

“yeah we’ll be sorry without the kiss.” Aegon muttered as well,Viserra just sighed and gave them both a soft look “please? it’s going to make it more romantic.”

Daenerys and Aegon looked at each other again, and it seemed as their stubbornness and slight irritation faded away little by little as they stared into each other’s eyes. They both sighed in defeat and looked back towards Viserra.

“fine.” Aegon finally muttered, moving his chair closer to Dany after saying that and leaning closer to her to press his lips against hers.

Daenerys closed her eyes, sighing softly before kissing him back. She couldn’t even deny herself that she missed his lips. The kiss started off light and gentle, but it gradually grew more heated as Aegon tried to deepen the kiss. His hand gently held onto her chin, his thumb gently caressing her jaw.

He pulled her closer to him, and he groaned quietly when she wrapped her arm around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair.

Viserra approaches them and puts one hand on aegon's shoulder and the other on her sister's shoulder “Don't forget me, you two!”.

they both pulled away from each other, slightly breathless and flushed. They looked at Viserra, who was now standing between them, with a small, slightly amused smile. Aegon chuckled softly and gently took her hand and entwined their fingers with his.

“how could we forget about you?”

He slowly pressed his lips to hers, Viserra smiled against the kiss and leaned into it, her fingers gently gripping his chin to keep him close to her.

His heartbeat began to increase in speed, and his breath hitched when her tongue gently pressed against his lower lip. He was slightly taken aback but quickly melted into the kiss, his tongue gently moving against hers.

Viserra broke the kiss for air and then leaned down to capture Daenerys' lips, Dany gasped softly as Viserra leaned down and captured her lips, her hand immediately moving to grab onto Viserra’s arm.

Her other hand moved to cradle the back of her head, her fingers tangling into Viserra’s hair. Dany’s entire body began to heat up again, her heartbeat echoing in her ears as their lips moved together.

Aegon’s laughter made both Viserra and Dany pull away from each other and look at him, both of them looking a bit flushed and slightly out of breath.

“what’s so funny?” Viserra teased, her eyes glinting with humor and affection at the same time, “He must be jealous ”. Daenerys replied to her sis. Aegon rolled his eyes with a groan, his cheeks turning slightly red.

“oh shut up. I am not jealous!” he muttered, his heart still racing from watching his wives kiss each other, “Let's see”. Daenerys take Viserra hand Towards the bed.

Viserra’s eyes widened slightly as she was pulled towards the bed, a slight look of surprise on her face that shifted into a smirk as she glanced at Dany. Her gaze then drifted towards Aegon, who was watching them almost hungrily.

“come on, Aegon” she said with a teasing lilt in her voice, holding her other hand out towards him.

His breathing became slightly heavier, his heartbeat drumming loudly in his ears as he watched them both. His eyes darkened by the second, and he swallowed hard before hesitantly reaching out to grab her hand.

His fingers wrapped around hers, and his other hand moved to rest on Dany’s hip as he pulled himself closer towards them.

"You two are whores you know that.?".he said and took off his green linen shirt.

Dany laughed softly, a smirk playing at her lips. She tilted her head slightly and looked at him, her eyes shining with lust and affection.

“well I thought you knew that already” she teased, her voice low and sultry. Viserra chuckled as she wrapped her arm around Dany’s waist as well, pulling her closer.

Aegon let out a groan as he watched them, his breath catching slightly in his chest at the sight of them both. He moved closer to her, leaning in and brushing their lips together in a kiss that held a fiery passion and desire behind it.

As both women worked on their respective tasks, Aegon’s breath started to become heavier and more labored. His eyes closed halfway as he felt Viserra’s fingers unbuttoning his shirt and Dany's fingers undoing his pants. His gaze darkened and his chest rose and fell with every breath he took in.

Viserra pressed kisses into his chest the more and more she unbuttoned his shirt, while Dany’s lips moved down to his abdomen, lightly trailing kisses along his warm skin.

Aegon let out a low groan when he felt their mouths against his skin. His entire body tingled with desire, both his hands gripped onto the bed sheet as he fought to keep himself steady. His breathing was quick, heavy pants and his heart was racing, pounding against his chest wildly.

They continued to kiss him, Viserra moved up to his neck and started biting and sucking softly. Dany's mouth moved lower to his hips, and he shivered as he felt her teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

He grabbed Daenerys' hair with his fist and guided her perfectly onto his cock, She didn't waste a moment and took him into her mouth. He opened his mouth and arched his head back, Viserra took advantage of his weakness and inserted her tongue into his mouth to muffle his moans.

Aegon lay in the embrace of his wives, their soft breaths tickling his skin. He felt a sense of contentment wash over him as they lay there, their bodies intertwined in a tangle of limbs and sheets.

His arms were wrapped around them, holding them tight against his body. His fingers gently caressed their skin, tracing gentle patterns on their backs and running through their tangled hair.

“Who is your favorite Queen,Aegon?” Viserra teased him then she raised her head to look at him, he groaned lowly as Viserra teased him. he took a moment to think before replying, his fingers tracing the skin on her hips. he gave his answer.

“… you both.. you are both my love.” he whispered in a low voice, his eyes burning with love when he finally responded.

"He is a liar. He loves me more than you." Daenerys harasses her sister and sucks his neck sweetly and softly, he groaned loudly when Dany started sucking on his neck, his head tilted back and his eyes closed as he tried to keep his breathing under control.

“Dany…” he groaned her name in response, his gaze drifting to Viserra.

“no no.. I love her just as much as I love you.. both of you are my queens.. my loves.. you both drive me insane.”

“Oh really? "Viserra She pinches his nipples and teases him, A loud groan escapes his lips when Viserra pinches his nipples, his eyes squeezed shut,, he groaned loudly, his body shifting slightly as he feels the pleasurable pain and sensations, his eyes widening slightly.

“Oh-”he groaned, a small growl escaping his throat, he watched her with darkened eyes.

“you are teasing me.. I am warning you..”

Dany smiled softly, continuing to kiss his neck while Viserra kept a mischievous smirk on her face. She pinched him again, harder this time, and he grunted softly as his body tensed slightly.

He gasped loudly again, and he shifted awkwardly. He gently grabbed her wrist. “Viserra…” he groaned again as she kept going with this teasing.

“Are you threatening my sister in front of me, you brat?” Daenerys chuckled and looked at him, He gave her a look, his brow furrowing slightly. His breathing was still unsteady as he responded to Dany’s question.

“No, I am not threatening her. I am just warning her.” He muttered, his body tensing once more when Viserra pinched him once again, a small pained groan escaped his lips.“Besides, I think I should remind you both how to respect your king”.

Dany chuckled, a teasing smile on her face as she looked at him. Viserra also chuckled. “and how are you going to remind us, my king?” She asked teasingly.

Aegon smiled in return, a dark gleam in his eyes. He suddenly grabbed Viserra’s wrist forcefully and pinned it beside her head. “by reminding you of who’s in control here” He growled lowly, leaning down to press more kisses on her neck and down to her chest.

♡ – 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @fragileheartbeats @darylandbethfanforever9 @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @khaleesihel @credulouskhaleesi @lovelykhaleesiii

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bl00dlight · 3 days

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@lady-phasma @lilyofthevalley-11

I think I've cracked the code.

So in the trailer we get this scene:

A few CLIPS right before we get...

I just wanna point out we KNOW for a FACT that the brothel where the madame works is called 'Cock Inn'....

And we KNOW in the first episode Aegon is going to take Aemond back to the brothel as 'celebration' for killing Luke:

I'm 80% sure these are apart of that sequence. It's similar lighting, and literally the scenes follow each other in the trailer? That can't be a coincidence? We know we are getting a brothel scene for certain now, where else in the show would women with sexy fans be?

That would explain why there is a mystery "targaryen" because we KNOW prostitutes in Westeros sometimes wear silver haired wigs for Targ men/men who want to fuck Targaryen women. It's confirmed in GOT & also... Mysaria herself says it to Daemon when he struggles getting it up.

I want to also point out

Same hairstyle as Helaena....

Same hairstyle as FLORIS FUCKING BARATHEON????

Idk who that other woman is? Potentially an Alicent reference? If so, yuck. Or maybe it's meant to be another Baratheon Daugher reference?

My hypothesis: Aegon is gonna take Aemond to Cock Inn to get him laid to "celebrate" the death of Luke. Aegon, being a cunt is going either A) going to bring out women Aemond has shown interest in?

B) The madame might bring out the silver haired girl because he is having the same problem as DAEMON?

Either way we can see homie feels ashamed about it....

OR Aegon could literally be giving Aemond a prostitute that looks like Helaena as a call back to when Aemond said "I would perform my duty, had mother only bothered us."

And Aegon is like... welp, now you can bud.

So uh, I feel like this is Helaemond confirmed. Or Helaemond alluded to. And I'm gonna remain delusional into thinking I'm right.

#hotd #targaryen #aemond targaryen #got #house of the dragon #rhaneyra targaryen #aemond one eye #daemon targaryen #helaemond #house of the dragon season 2 #spoilers

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 2 days

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WANNA WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR NECK. ( HOTD x Reader ) Pt 2.

pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen x Helaena's Lady-in-waiting! Reader prompt: After weeks of not speaking, Aegon realizes that he misses the banter between the two of you. word count: 1,000+ words

The argument between you and Aegon was now a fortnight ago. Neither one of you had talked to each other, not even when being in Court. It was just this thick tension that you both were trying to avoid acknowledging it. It was no surprise that the rest of the royal family took note of it. You two did not bicker anymore, or glare, or whisper insults. It was just tension in the air.

Aegon found it unbearable. You just acted as if he was not there. No snarky comments, no glares, no wrinkling up your nose or lips, not even curling your hands into fists at your side. It was just nothing. He oddly found himself hoping for a glare from you, maybe even a cutthroat insult. What was worse was that you did not even acknowledge him when others were around. You clung onto Helaena or Aemond, acting as if they were the only ones in front of you.

Could you not see him right there as well? Did you suddenly find yourself to be visually impaired like his twat of a younger brother? Or were you being cruel?Either way, he was determined to get something out of you. He did not care if it was a glare or if you cursed his entire bloodline. Anything was better than the silence. Literally anything.

Finding himself to be oddly nervous, he chugs the last of his chalice of arbor red, his throat burning from the strongness of the wine. Coughing for a moment, he musters up his courage, slowly walking over to you. He did not understand why he felt so nervous. It was just you, you Helaena’s Lady-in-waiting, the girl he tormented for months now on end. You, who made him look forward to whatever sly insults you could throw his way. It was just you, the girl he was really starting to miss. It was just you, the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Was he starting to feel things for you? No, no, this could not be happening.

Dryly swallowing the lump that brewed in his throat, he stands behind you, staring at the back of your head for a moment. Your hair was pinned back and decorated with little pearl clips, gifts from Helaena. He knew because he remembered how happy you had looked on your name day when you had been given them. No, no, no, stop it! Stop thinking of such things!

Realizing there was no way to back out of it now, he clears his throat loudly making his presence known to you. Feeling his heart pound in his chest, you slowly turn around to see him, the smile instantly dying on your lips. Tightening his grip on his chalice, you go to leave, not even sparing him a second glance or word.

“No, don’t go. Just…” He sighs, “Just listen to what I have to say. Then, you can curse me to the Wall and back. Please.”

“I…Okay.” You mumble, begrudgingly stopping.

“I am sorry for pushing you into the pond. Twas’ cruel, even for myself.” He apologies, a genuine look on his face.

“Wonderful, can I go now?” You huff, not even flinching at him.

Feeling his heart break just the slightest at your brush off, he had expected the cold shoulder, what he had done was cruel and he had crossed the line. He knew that. But, he did not expect you to just shut him out like that. Chewing on his bottom lip, he did not understand why he was so nervous around you at this moment. He was never nervous, always confident and maybe a little too arrogant at times. But, never a sweating fool. Gulping, he cowers slightly under your intense gaze, slowly shifting his weight from foot-to-foot anxiously.

“I..I, uh, was hoping for a bit more than that.” He mumbles, not really sure of what to say next.

“Well what do you wish for me to say, hm?” You snap, “Something as dull as, ‘Thank you, Aegon! I am pleased to hear some pathetic excuse for an apology!’, hm?”

“I, uh, no.” He whispers, cowering slightly at your anger.

“Then would you act as though you are entitled to my forgiveness?” You counter back, “I came to Court to serve my House and Princess Helaena. You’ve made my life miserable every day since.”

“I, what are⎯” He stutters, struggling to get his words out.

“You thought that fluttering your lashes at me and pouting would make me forgive you?” You shake your head, “No, I do not forgive you. What you did was just the final thing that made me realize there was no use in trying to be cordial. So leave me be.”

Cowering further as you unleash your anger upon him, he did not blame you for being so angry at him, and you had a point. He had been a downright cunt to you. But, had he truly tarnished and good with you? Were you truly not going to forgive him for this? Were you two just going to pass by each other like strangers? Chewing on his bottom lip hard, he musters up his courage, standing a little taller to hide his lack of confidence. There had to be something he could do to fix this.

“What can I do to rekindle things between us?” He asks, genuinely.

“I, uh, what did you just say?” You stutter, looking taken back by his question.

“I said, what can I do to rekindle things between us?” He asks, “If not for my own sake, then for Helaena and our reputations within the Court.”

“Do not jest with me⎯”

“No, no, I am serious, more so than I have ever been in my entire life.” He shakes his head, “I can have a good marriage arranged for you, one that will benefit your House, if that is what it takes to rekindle things between us.”

Tensing up as you just stare at him in silence, he feared that he may have gone too far, that he had truly said the wrong thing and this would lead to you blowing up on him like last time. Squirming under your intense blank stare, he struggles to speak up, praying that you would say or do something. Opening his mouth to speak, he couldn’t get anything out, his tongue feeling as if it was made of lead. Even if he could speak up, what would he say to you?

Softly pursing your lips together at his offer, you stare at him in silence, inspecting his face and body for a hint of a lie. Aegon could be cruel, he had proven so many times before. You could not be completely surprised if this was just an elaborate jest on your behalf. Letting out a gentle sigh as you find your voice to speak up, you nod your head softly, clasping your hands together.

“That is…oddly very kind of you, Aegon.” You add coldly, “If this is not a jest.”

“It is not, I promise.” He whispers, nodding.

“Your word holds no value to me, so do not swear upon it.” You brush him off, not impressed.

“Then, I swear upon my honor as a man and a Targaryen.” He tries again.

“Your words bring no one but yourself comfort. So do not spout them out to me.” You shake your head, “Besides, if you truly do wish to rekindle with me, you must work for it in time.”

Turning away from him without another word, you slowly walk away from him, going to return back to Helaena’s side. This was something that you had to think over. There was no chance that this was not some jest that he would drop whenever he got bored. Feeling his presence behind you, you glance over your shoulder, seeing him trail after you like a lost puppy.

Were you imagining that?

Raising a brow as he follows closely, you chew on your bottom lip, walking to the left to test your theory. Glancing back over your shoulder to look at him, he follows after you, walking to the left alongside you. Oh, no. He truly was following after you. Chewing on your bottom lip, you stop and face him, letting out a soft irritated sigh. Clearly you were not going to be left alone by him.

“You're a pest.” You huff, stopping yourself from blowing up at him.

“Too many I may be.” He mumbles, shrugging.

“Tis’ not a compliment, Aegon.” You attempt to wave him off, “Go find some poor servant girl to pester or some wine to drink.”

“No, I prefer you.” He argues, shaking his head.

Rolling your eyes hard at his response, you knew that this was his attempt to get you to speak once again, and sadly was working. Straightening out your back, you take a deep breath in, holding back the urge to strangle him for being a pest. Clasping your hands together, you fiddle with the ring on your finger to distract yourself.

“Aegon.” You try, attempting to get him to leave you be.

“Y/n.” He counters back, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips.

Nope. He was doing this on purpose. He was trying to get a reaction out of you.

“Stop it.” You state, your voice wavering slightly from irritation.

“Stop it.” He mocks, copying your voice.

You could not kill him. At least, not in public.

“Aegon, you are being a pest now.” You state, holding back your anger.

“Aegon, you are being a pest now.” He mocks, making his voice dramatically high pitched to mock yours.

----

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

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visenyaism · 2 days

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Do you think Aegon 4 was the epilogue of the dance or summerhall

in attempting to bludgeon his newborn brother to death with his dragon egg, a4gon thematically declares even as a toddler that he has no interest in either the political or symbolic trappings of power of the Targaryen dynasty, unlike either the participants in the dance or the people of the summerhall times, who want to retvrn to the dragon era. a4gon does not view power in a complicated way. It is a blunt instrument that he uses to get what he wants, namely whacking his stupid brother over the head. he really is just sat on the throne like damn isn’t it great that I do whatever I want and no one can stop me.

#asoiaf #a4gon most targphobic targaryen since vaegon

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asa-do-your-thing · 1 day

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Mine is the Vengeance

18+ MINORS DNI (Dark)Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader (/OC, hair colour is mentioned), mentioned Aegon x F!Reader 3.8k Warnings: DEAD DOVE I REPEAT DEAD DOVE, dubcon, noncon, blowjob, cunnilingus, P in V sex, smut duh, derogatory language, sexism, parent-child incest mentioned, as always no proofreading no nothing

Time had seemed to slow around you. Biting back tears, you flinched every time Queen Alicent Hightower took another section of your dark locks to braid them sweetly up onto your head, creating a beautiful updo. Two moons had passed since you’d been married, and it was common knowledge that Prince Aemond Targaryen had only ever touched you on your wedding night, refusing to interact with you more than he had to, only the two of you and Queen Alicent knowing why.

It was not your fault, you thought to yourself and sighed. You were not to be blamed. Though still, you had to be grateful that he stepped up the way he did. A true Prince, you thought with a tiny sneer.

“‘Tis alright, my dear, he can be peculiar about your… previous duties to King Aegon. It is now in your responsibility to give him a son, seeing as… the realm does not have a clear successor. To keep the peace, you’ll gift Prince Aemond a little son, so that Jaehaera can marry someone befitting her position,” Alicent whispered soothingly, yet the frigid coldness of her voice did not soothe you at all.

Ah yes, having to give your husband your body, because your rapist is burnt and broken beyond repair, so no heirs may follow. Wonderful. Wonderfully splendid news indeed. Though, with a resigned nod, you accepted the Queen Mother’s dubious advice and flinched as she pinned your veil into your braids.

“Now you look beautiful enough for him. Go now, child, and do what must me done. And oh, before I forget it - do give him one of the smiles that enraptured King Aegon so. You know, he told me that that was the reason why he… payed you such attention. He always used to ramble on abou your smile. Now go, child, go, and show Aemond how pretty you can be.”

With a lingering trace of hesitation, you rose from the stool, your royal dress rustling softly against the stone floor. The reflection on the grand mirror struck you; you were a vision of pure elegance and regality, every inch the consort of a prince. As you walked towards the door, Alicent's words rang in your ears, "...show Aemond how pretty you can be."

The long hallway leading to your marital chambers seemed like an endless path. It was as though each step echoeed back into the silence, reminding you of your duty and what had to happen for you to walk this shameful path. Aegon, drunk. Aegon, sobbing. Aegon calling you ‘Mother’ while he held you down onto the mattress. Aegon, who had screamed at you. Aegon, who after having received an earful by the Hand, Lord Otto Hightower, rashly betrothed you to Prince Aemond. Aegon, who caused all of your and Aemond’s misery. Though… it was your misery, first and foremost. Aemond never had to cry because Aegon had ripped him up because he was too frunk and eager. You clutched the delicate fabric of your gown, feeling knots in your stomach. Swallowing hard, you lifted your hand to knock on the door.

Prince Aemond sat his desk, engrossed in scrolls bearing news of the current situation across Westeros. Alliances, Troop movements and such things. He looked up as you enter, his violet eyes betraying surprise before he quickly masked it with hateful indifference. His gaze travelled over your form, taking in your carefully arranged hair and the gown that fell around you like a dark green waterfall.

"Are we receiving guests?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm in his cold voice. Your heart fluttered uneasily but summoning all the courage you had left, you flashed him a radiant smile - one that was reportedly fondly spoken about by King Aegon himself. Maybe… maybe he’d play along, just this once…

"No," you replied softly, moving closer to where he sat. "I just thought... perhaps..."

You trailed off, aware that your cheeks are red with embarrassment. He regarded you for a moment longer before sighing and setting aside his papers. He stood to his full height and stepped closer to you, glowering down from his not insignificant height.

“Did the Queen Mother send you?”

Clenching and unnclenching your fists, you nodded gently. “Yes, my Prince. I was to, well I still am to… fulfill my duty.”

The Prince looked down at you with a blank face, before disgust took over his fine, Targaryen features. Stepping ever closer to you, he held you by your wrists and looked you over, like cattle in the markets. “Hm. Wouldn’t it be the greatest way to show my dear brother, the King, that I despise what he had done by just not touching you? Hm? So that I’ll be the next in line? Hm. I doubt that the Queen Mother really wished for me to bed you. Maybe you are just such a harlot that you’ve decided that you neded to get your fill again, now that my darling brother is burnt and crippled?”

His words stung, every syllable colored with venom. Your eyes welled up, threatening to spill over with unshed tears. Your heart clenched as he let go of your wrist. You turned away from him, unable to bear the scorn etched on his face.

“No,” you whispered lost in the silence of the room. “I am not a harlot,” you affirmed more firmly, turning back to him, your chin held high even as your eyes betrayed an ocean of hurt. “You know I am not. You know exactly what the King has done. Does that truly make me a whore? And I came here because it is my duty. Whether you choose to fulfill yours or not is up to you.”

Aemond crossed his arms over his chest, appearing unmoved by your heartfelt plea. But you saw something flicker in his eyes, a spark of understanding perhaps? It was quickly extinguished by a cold hardness that made you shiver despite the warmth of the room.

“Your duty?” he echoed, his tone laced with mockery and bitterness. “What a pleased duty it must be for you – first my brother and now me?”

He began pacing around the room, looking more like a caged beast than a prince. You watched him quietly, feeling small and insignificant beneath his irate gaze.

After a long silence that felt like ages, Aemond stopped before the hearth, its flames casting ominous shadows on his face making him appear more dragon than man. He finally said in an eerily calm voice, “I will take you, then. Take you in every way known to man. You’ve been a whore once, so why not be a whore now? Give me my damned son and then you can go and fuck my corpse-like brother again for all I care.”

The words hit you like an ice-cold gust of wind in winter's heart. The world seemed to crumble around you as you grappled with the gravity of his words.

“My Prince, Prince Aemond,” you implored softly. But a single glare from him stopped your protest. “As you wish, my Prince.”

Silence between the two of you spread as the two of you stared at each other, not quite knowing what to do now.

“Take off your clothes, but be slow. With every piece of clothing that you lose you shall tell me what my brother had done to you. Tell me all about yourself and your wonderfully wretched body, my dearest Lady Wife,” he murmured and sank into a chair with a small smirk, pouring himself a cup of wine.

You felt like a deer caught in the glare of a predator, frozen and terrified. But this was your duty, as painful and degrading as it was. Each slow inhale and exhale felt like a shard of ice piercing your lungs as you reluctantly began to unlace your dress from the back. As the fabric loosened, you began to speak, each word echoing sharply in the silent room.

"His hands...he was rough with them," you started, trying to keep your voice steady. "He tore at my clothes with an eagerness that scared me."

The room was silent except for your voice and the soft rustling of fabric. The first layer of your dress fell to the ground, pooling around your feet. You could feel Aemond's gaze on you, cold and unyielding.

"He pinned me down in the council chambers...," you continued, paling slightly at the memory. "His breath stank of wine... he didn't even look at me... not really. I was two and ten, I’ve not even flowered then."

As you spoke, another layer fell away. You stood before him shivering slightly, feeling naked despite being partially clothed, your veil tickling you softly.

Your eyes met Aemond's gaze and for a moment, there was silence - a tense void filled with resentment, hatred – but also a seed of understanding that seemed to have sprouted from his icy demeanor.

“He didn't care about me... I was just an object to him,” you whispered, stepping out of your last dress, standing there like a doll, which some girl used to dress up, as you stood there in your shift, your hose and your luxurious headdress. “He always wanted me to tell him that I loved him. All while he was fucking me, scraping my face against stones, letting me bleed.”

Aemond’s eyes widened slightly at your statement while his jaw clenched tight. He downed the rest of his cup in ane go and sat onto the bed, motioning you to come forth.

“That sounds like you were not a whore at all… but your gasps and moans were heard all through the Red Keep. Why did I always have to listen to your moans, never your sobs? Why did I even have to see you bouncing on his cock, tits out as if you were on the street of silk?” He asked slowly and bent you over his knees, methodically rolling up your shift to bare your arse to him.

All the heat rose to your face in embarrassment and anger as you tried to lie down in a more comfortable position, or, preferrably, to wriggle out of his grip completely. All you got, in return, was a hard slap against your supple arsecheeks. “Aemond! My P-prince! What are you-?”, you yelped, but were cut off by another rough spank.

"That's 'Prince Aemond' to you," he said, his tone firm. "And you will speak to me respectfully or you won't speak at all."

You bit your lip, forcing back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes as your face burned with shame. But under his gaze, you found the strength to continue.

"My... my moans," you choked out, swallowing dryly. "They were not of pleasure but of pain. The King... He... He enjoyed making me cry out..."

Another slap made you gasp with surprise, your body jerking under the sudden pain, your headdress jangling at the sudden motion. You glared at him, your eyes aflame with anger and hurt. But he remained stoic, his face impassive as he stared back at you.

"You were there in the shadows, watching... listening," you said bitterly. "Did it bring you pleasure too? Hearing my cries? Seeing my discomfort? Pumped your fist while I bled?"

Aemond didn't respond but his grip tightened on your wrist and for a moment his face hardened.

"Am I expected to believe that?" he asked softly. "You expect me to believe that it wasn't consensual? That you weren't enjoying yourself? You looked so serene. Like the statue of the maiden in the sept…"

His words were like a knife in your heart and you jerked away from him only to be pulled back into place by a strong hand on your shoulder.

"Look at me, woman," he commanded, forcing your head up so your eyes met his. There was a strange look in his eyes now – not quite apologetic but no longer filled with rage either. “Tell me that you’ll look at me the same way and that you will not be complaining, chattering or crying. I want you to be as serene as you were back then.”

Bile rose in the back of your throat but you nodded slowly, getting up, but yelped as Aemond ripped your shift off your body, leaving you there in your bejewelled veil and your stockings. Not for long though - he pushed you down onto his bed with a force that knocked the wind out of your lungs.

“Tell me you want me too. Tell me that you’ll be as wanton for me as you were for him,” he whispered into your ear, his long silver hair brushing over your shivering, naked form. “Don’t deny it, I know you liked it, just as you’ll like this… But I’ll be gentle, I’ll treat you like a Lady…”, he mumbled on as he fumbled with his doublet.

Was he… was your sick, twisted husband truly trying to get himself to forget that you were her against your will? That you would never truly give yourself to him or his brother? You did not immediately reply and received another slap, this time against your mound, making you yelp. “I… uh… yes?”

"Good. That's a good girl," Aemond purred, his eyes flashing dangerously in the candlelight as he worked the buttons of his doublet. "Remember, you're here to please me. You're here to make me feel like the king my brother is."

His words stung, but you chose not to respond. Instead, you lay stiffly on the bed, your eyes fixed on an intricate pattern on the ceiling, trying desperately not to think about what was about to happen.

"What happened with my brother... It doesn't matter now," Aemond said softly, interrupting your thoughts. He dropped his doublet onto the floor and moved to unbuckle his pantaloons. His eyes ran down your exposed form greedily. "I will make sure that it is different. I will make sure you enjoy this."

His hands roamed over your body — fingertips barely skimming your skin, followed by gentle caresses and soft strokes that made you shiver despite yourself. He was true to his word: he was gentle — at least so far.

"Stop it," you whispered, your voice breaking as you pulled away from him and covered yourself with your arms. "Please."

Aemond's brows furrowed in confusion — or perhaps frustration — as he looked at you questioningly.

"I said I want... I want you too," you lied through gritted teeth, forcing a smile onto your face. You had to keep him appeased — keep him from hurting you any further. "But I want you... naked too. Show me how I should touch you."

Your plea seemed to surprise him as he quickly rid himself of the last articled of clothing. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, such a wanton little wife I have. Laying there with Jewels in her hair and a modest veil covering her hair… wanting to touch me. Alright then, Lady Wife, touch me,” he tutted and pushed you back up onto your knees, his finger pressing against your chin. “And do keep your wonderful smile while you try and take me with your mouth.”

You looked down at Aemond, the glow of the draping curtains casting shadows along his chiseled body. Forcing a shaky breath through your lips, you nodded and gently wrapped your hand around his hard cock. The contact made him hiss and you glanced up through your lashes to see him watching you intently, a peculiar look in his eyes.

"Well? Don't just sit there," he growled, his fingers tangling in your hair, playing with your veil. You swallowed hard against the knot in your throat before you lowered your head down onto him, his swollen, leaking tip staring at you teasingly as you wrapped your lips around him, quickly bobbing up and down along.

But Aemond had different ideas. He guided you at a leisurely pace, drawing out the experience as he muttered deeply under his breath. His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear that hadn't fallen yet.

"Slow down," he murmured. "I want to enjoy this." The way he spoke to you was as if he truly believed that this was what you wanted too. It was like he was coaxing you along, encouraging you like one might a timid horse.

You could feel the heat radiating off him as he pulsed subtly under your touch, his fingers relaxing their grip on your hair as if he was trying to fight against the pleasure coursing through him. His other hand fumbled for something on the side table - a small vial of sweet smelling oil - and tilted it into his palm.

"Open," he commanded softly. As much as you didn't want to obey him, fear of punishment had you complying immediately. He slowly poured the warm liquid into your mouth before pulling back slightly to watch it run down your chin and onto your heaving tits. It tasted nice, at least, you thought. At least he hadn’t hurt you too much. At least, you thought with an embarrassed blush creeping up your cheeks, it felt… okay. Not good, not great, but there had been a certain head between your thighs. MAybe it had just been the lewdness of the situation.

"That's a good girl," Aemond purred in your ear, his voice thick with lust as his cock twitched against your cheek. "Now, back to it."

You swallowed him deeper this time, taking him all the way down, your nose brushing against his pubes. He moaned approvingly, his grip on your hair tightening again as he started bucking his hips into your eager mouth in short, shallow thrusts. Your mind drifted away as you thought of anything but what was happening: the feel of sea breeze on your face, the smell of wildflowers blooming on the hills of your home, and the sound of your mother singing one of her lullabies.

Aemond's breathing became ragged and uneven above you. "I'm close," he panted, warning you just before hot, sticky seed shot into your mouth. You didn't stop until he told you to pull away, gasping for air as you wiped your face and chest with the edge of the bedspread. There was a tense silence between you both before he finally spoke up again.

"Get on all fours and spread yourself for me," he said simply. “I wish to taste you.”

As you were unpinning your veil, you felt Aemond’s big, sleek hands on your shoulders as he shook his head. “No, keep that on. I want to fuck my little doll - the doll Mother has dressed, the doll my brother has played with. But now you are mine. My pretty doll. Taking me so innocently…”, he rambled once more as he lowered himself between your trembling thighs.

Were men not supposed to be spent after their release? What was he doing to you?

You braced yourself as best as you could against the intrusion, trying not to whimper as he spread your lips apart. His tongue lapped at your clit, teasingly at first, then firmly, compelling you to arch your back and cry out in both pleasure and pain. His fingers plunged inside of you simultaneously, stretching you impossibly wide while his tongue continued its ministrations on your overly sensitive button.

"You like that, don't you?" he asked smugly, his voice full of satisfaction. "Tell me you like it."

"I... I-I," you couldn't help but moan as he pressed his face against your core harder, his tongue leaving a trail of fire along your sensitive folds.

"Say it," he growled against your thighs, his cock hardening once more against your thigh.

"I... I like it," you panted. "Oh.. oh Gods Aemond - I like it. Just like - mmph!”

His finger pushed into you to the hilt, curling and stroking inside until you were trembling on the edge of climax. "Say my name again, whore," he demanded low.

"Aemond," you gasped out, panting for breath. "I - I like it Aemond!"

He chuckled darkly against your core, his tongue flicking over your clit furiously as his fingers moved in and out of your wet channel. The waves of pleasure crashed over you like a tsunami, rendering you helpless underneath him until your back arched from the mattress and you cried out his name once more, clenching around his invading digits.

He pulled back just as quickly as he'd started, leaving you panting and drenched with sweat. "Good girl," he praised, wiping his mouth with the back of his forearm before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, forcing his tongue roughly into your mouth. As much as you hated to admit it, your body responded to him regardless of what your mind thought of him; juices slicked between your thighs as he ground against your core, hardeness poking your soft flesh.

You hated it. You loved it. You hated him. You loved him. You -

"Now let's see how tight that cunt really is," he growled against your ear before roughly rolling you onto your stomach, spreading your legs apart and plunging his length inside with one smooth motion, placing your veil over your hair in a way his mother used to do in the sept.

You could do naught but squeal and moan, trying your hardest to push him out with your cunny while tears formed in your eyes. Did he not promise to be gentle? But if you were to complain, what would he do then? What was he doing now? Your mind raced incessantly. Would he also want to call you Mother? Suckle on your teats after he was spent? Or was he different to Aegon? Aegon would’ve finished minutes ago, you thought nervously. Why was Aemond toying with you like that?

He pulled back, almost fully before slamming in again, mercilessly repeating the motion until you were begging for mercy. "Aegon was right," he grunted as he pounded into you, grunting with each thrust. "You are tighter than a maiden!"

The mention of his brother's name sent daggers through your heart and spurred you onwards. Your walls clenched and unclenched around him, desperately trying to force him out.

"Yes," he moaned, interpreting your actions as pleasure instead of pain. “That's it my pretty doll, squeeze me tighter... tighter! Show your husband how good you can treat him!”

With a final grunt, he released his seed inside you, collapsing on top of your trembling frame. "You're mine now, doll," he panted, spent but still hard inside of you. "Mine and only mine. Put on a cloak and go show yourself to Aegon in his sickbed. Show him my dripping seed. Tell him that you’re mine." A few seconds passed before he pulled himself out of you and turned away. “I’ll see you in a month, if your blood has come again. If not, well… Fare well, until you can hand me my heir. Good night.”

#asas fics #fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond smut #dark aemond smut #aegon #king aegon #prince aegon targaryen #dark aemond x reader #aemond x reader

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babyblue711 · 3 days

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Loyalty

Aemond Targaryen (HOTD) x Alys Rivers - Part 1 Summary: Alys reflects on her time at Harrenhal under the reign of the Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen. Words: 2.6K

Chapter Warnings: NSFW, Dubcon, Sexual Content 18+, Smut, War Things, Typical Westeros Misogyny A/N: I fully realize not everyone is an Alys fan and that is perfectly fine. Perhaps once the show airs, I'll change my opinion too. But, as of right now, this is fanfiction and, therefore, my fantasy. I personally tried to humanize Alys, which I hope you all will see. As always, I love reading your thoughts, comments, and reblogs! 😘 And - No tag list since I don't know who will be in to Alysmond. 💙 Beta read by the Queen herself: @arcielee 💙 Beautiful banner gif by the one and only: @myfandomprompts

The prince was insatiable at times.

Sometimes he was gentle, sometimes rough. Though she never knew what she was going to get, the news from the battlefront and the state of affairs of the kingdom often foretold the sort of night she could expect from the Prince Regent.

With the weight of the green faction firmly resting on his shoulders, periodically he would be consumed by raw desire; he was fueled by passion, fueled by rage, fueled by an innate need to dominate and control, as certainty was a rare commodity given the unpredictable nature of war. On those nights, his touch was borderline cruel, harsh and demanding, and she would brace herself, anticipating the forcefulness with which he would claim her, feeling a mixture of pleasure and pain as their bodies collided. She didn’t know how to tell him ‘no’. She didn’t think she could. She needed him just as much as he needed her… or so she was leading him to believe.

But at other times, he would approach her with a soft touch, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns along her skin, his words filled with warmth, just like the first night they spent together. Those were the nights when she had felt cherished and safe, enveloped in his affection and care. She couldn’t ever remember a time where any man of higher standing had ever worshiped her in such a tender way.

Presently confined within the ominous black walls of Harrenhal, tonight she is suffering the prince’s wrath. The recent tidings are dire: Kings Landing has fallen into the hands of the enemy, igniting the red hot rage of the dragon. She knows Aemond feels solely responsible for this significant blow to their cause, for leaving his family unprotected as he seeks out his greatest foe, terrified of what is happening to those he has left behind. Tonight, he uses their intimacy as a conduit for his pent-up emotions, unleashing his fury upon her in a desperate attempt to find temporary respite from the anarchy gripping the Seven Kingdoms and the chaos of his own soul.

In the dimly lit chamber, the air is heavy with tension and the scent of burning candles. Pinned to the bed underneath him, his long fingered hand is wrapped firmly around her throat as he thrusts powerfully, hips snapping into her with a brutal force, a look of utter madness in his lone purple eye. His grip tightens on her throat as his unhinged gaze flicks from her bouncing breasts up to her face.

“Why couldn’t you have told me about this before?” he demands with a harsh growl that echoes off the stone walls, his fingers digging into the delicate skin of her throat so that she can barely breathe, let alone articulate an answer. She chokes slightly, wrapping a dainty hand around his wrist, begging with her eyes for him to soften his grip, which mercifully he does so she can speak.

“My prince,” she gasps as he continues to rut into her, “My visions do not work on command…” She attempts to explain but anger clouds his face and his grip tightens once more on her throat, cutting off any further speech. The Prince Regent does not want to hear her excuses. His desperation and anger is evident in every movement, in every harsh word, in every mark he leaves upon her body. She clenches her jaw and tries not to whimper as his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her neck and breasts, afraid weakness will spur him on further; mentally, she tries to disassociate from what is currently happening to her. She is fully aware that he sees her as a means to an end, a tool to gain an advantage in the chaos of war; she purposefully has supplanted herself in this position, just as he is her mechanism for survival in return.

She knows deep down that she cannot fulfill his demands; her gifted visions do not bend to her whim or will, and she cannot control what they show her. To admit this to him would mean certain death, and so she bears the pain of his grip, the forcefulness of his thrusts, and the weight of his expectations, all while concealing the truth that she cannot deliver what he seeks.

With a guttural groan, his hips stutter as he spills deep inside of her, his fearsome eye closed in some semblance of bliss as he reaches his peak. Without acknowledging any need for her pleasure, he tucks himself back in his pants and departs the room in silence, his rage barely satiated.

Alys lays upon the bed, her chest rising and falling to catch the breath withheld from her while caught in Aemond’s iron grip. She shifts slightly into a more comfortable position, feeling the slickness between her thighs and, despite his brutality, she quietly hopes for a silver-haired babe, further securing her own position and a testament to her worth.

She wonders if Aemond does not think she is capable of having children and, therefore, is much less cautious where he spills his seed. Her moon’s blood is late, but that is not unusual for her, though she still thinks it is too early to tell if they have been successful yet. She rests a hand on her lower belly, willing her womb to quicken, something that hasn’t happened in years.

Exhaustion tugs at the corners of her eyes as she rests, waiting for her soreness and aches to lessen so she may get a few hours sleep. Sighing deeply, she stares into the dying flames of the fire in the hearth and reflects on the last few months of being caught up in this accursed Targaryen civil war. Life with Aemond is, at least, a little better than when Daemon ruled these halls. The Rogue Prince had been a formidable presence, his sharp eyes saw through her facade of obedience from the moment he landed astride his fiery red dragon. She had never underestimated him, knowing that he would not be easy prey to be fooled by her own ambitions.

But when Aemond descended from the heavens upon his colossal, ancient dragon, Alys suspected the young Prince Regent to be a lot more volatile, and thus, a little more vulnerable than his formidable uncle. Aemond was desperate to prove himself in the ongoing war, his ego inflated by the fact that he commanded the largest dragon in existence. His mere presence struck fear into the hearts of warriors, who readily bowed before him as he issued commands with an air of undeniable authority. Yet, beneath his bravado, Alys discerned a deep-seated fear—that of failing his family and being perceived as a disappointment.

Recognizing these traits, she decided to try to leverage this to her advantage. She harbored no ill will toward the prince; in fact, she had developed a fondness for the young man during his stay at the fortress. But she knew that sentimentality had no place in the games of power and politics that defined their lives; the world was cruel, especially to lowborn women, and no one in her position would turn down such an opportunity to wield the influence that came with being entwined with a Targaryen Prince.

It still took considerable effort to gain Aemond's trust, considering his sharp intellect and initial tendency to see her as nothing more than a lowborn woman with limited utility. However, upon learning that she had some experience with the healing arts, he tasked her with tending to the injuries of his soldiers, which she executed without fail.

It was one fateful night that the prince called upon her for help with his own affliction - the vicious scar that marred the left side of his beautiful face. She concocted a poultice aimed at soothing the damaged nerves around his missing eye that was causing him some discomfort that particular night. Witnessing the visible relief on his face once she had applied it, and taking advantage of being alone with the prince for the first time, she seized the opportunity to subtly offer strategic information, mainly concerning Daemon's previous tenure at Harrenhal. Aware of Aemond's desperation for any advantage in the ongoing war, especially for any knowledge that had to do with his uncle, Aemond clung to anything she could tell him about Daemon and his war strategy. She was aware of just enough information to be deemed useful and what she wasn’t aware of, she may have elaborated just a bit, as the prince would never know. This gesture swiftly elevated her status in his eyes, securing her a place in his inner circle sooner than she had even anticipated.

But it wasn’t only Aemond she had to charm; she also understood the importance of gaining favor with Ser Criston Cole, the Hand of the King and Aemond's second in command. Although she suspected that Ser Criston could occasionally see through her intentions, she had a knack for manipulating him too.

Late one evening, and after a few too many cups of wine, she prophesied his future, whispering words that she knew would resonate with him as they gazed into the flames of the fire. Men in positions of power and influence loved to be told exactly what they wanted to hear and Ser Criston was no exception. Soon, both he and Aemond would come to depend on her clairvoyance much more than either should, but war often strove men to desperate measures and she delicately played this hand when she had no other choice.

Another aspect she did not expect to contest came a few weeks after Aemond and his army came to stay at Harrenhal. It was Aemond who turned their relationship into something more physical; whether it was brought on by boredom or loneliness, she’ll likely never know, but she certainly had not anticipated becoming the Prince Regent’s bedmate. She remembered the night well, the way his fingertips grazed her wrist lightly as she poured him more wine. The intense look of his eye was…different that night, a primal look of longing coupled with a smoldering desire. The bulge in his pants was obvious and it was clear what was intended from her that night.

Worried to displease the prince by refusing him, she settled on her knees in front of him as he sat by the fire. She held his gaze as she slowly unlaced his breeches, pulling his thick, veiny cock from the confines of his trousers, and began pleasuring him with her mouth. Wetness had formed between her own thighs as she sucked him with abandon, enjoying the way his sharp face contorted with the gratification she was giving him. When he shot his seed down her throat, she expected that to be the end of it… until he asked her to show him how to pleasure her in return.

She could perfectly recall the earnest look in his eye as she stared at him with bewilderment; it was highly unusual for a man to be concerned with a woman’s pleasure, let alone a high-born royal like himself. After a moment’s hesitation, she willingly agreed to his request and they spent the night exploring each other’s bodies; she taught the prince about the bundle of nerves located above her entrance and the special spot buried deep inside her cunt. He was an excellent student, mastering her body quicker than she thought possible. His expression was hungry with intensity when he watched her unravel underneath him as she succumbed to his touch, and she knew this gave him a different sense of power over her body. She encouraged this, fully committing to being the prince’s loyal servant in all things, further gaining his trust and, in return, his protection.

She lost count how many times she came that night during their passionate lovemaking, and her hopes ignited further when he shot his seed deep into her cunt. Since then, he had called upon her almost every night to visit his bed, torturing her deliciously as her velvet walls clenched around him repeatedly, milking him dry as her cries of ecstasy filled his room. Afterwards, she would pray to the gods to bless her with his child.

However, she was beginning to wonder if she had played her part just a little too well. Unfortunately, the prince, gaining confidence in their arrangement, had started to abuse his position of power, more often than not just using her body as a vessel for only his pleasure. Her disappointment was palpable; he had shown so much promise and she thought she could teach him to be different, that he would continue to treat her with respect.

But such wishes were not to be, as dark thoughts of the first time she had suffered the prince’s wrath resurfaced. On that fateful night, after a particularly fearsome thunderstorm culminating with bad news of the war beyond Harrenhal, Aemond and Vhagar had descended from the storm-stricken sky in a fury, his dragon’s wings clapping louder than the thunder itself. As was customary, she was summoned to his chambers. Lightning flashed as she entered his dimly lit room, illuminating his countenance —a hauntingly beautiful sight. But as she caught sight of his murderous expression, dread filled her gut and she knew she was about to face the consequences for whatever misfortune had transpired.

Afterwards, he seemed to emerge from a trance, apologizing to her as he gazed upon the red marks from his fingers on her neck, the bite marks on her breasts, the bruises that littered her body. She was dumbstruck once more, never had a man shown remorse for hurting her before. As their tryst continued, their passionate lovemaking became rougher and more animalistic, her own pleasure forgotten at times as he used her body as a means to his own end, but she made the best of it, knowing that to bear his child would outweigh her suffering and reward her tenfold.

Back in the room, these memories of Aemond lulled her to sleep as she curled in his bed, warm and comfortable from the smolder in the hearth. The reprieve was short lived as she was roughly shaken awake, startling at his harsh touch.

“Wake up,” Aemond says gruffly. “We’re leaving.” He refuses to answer any of her questions, throwing clothes at her and telling her to get dressed in a hurry. She has no choice but to obey, noticing he has given her breeches to pull on as well as several warm layers, including riding boots and soft leather gloves.

The moon shines brightly in the nighttime sky as Aemond takes her by the hand, leading her outside the gates of Harrenhal where the immense form of Vhagar looms in the distance. Alys pulls back on Aemond’s arm, terrified, slowing her pace, her unusual attire dawning on her as it is obvious that the prince means for her to fly on Vhagar. The energy that emanates from the massive dragon is unlike anything she has ever felt before. This was an intelligent being that could not be tricked by pretty words or prophetic visions that danced in the flames, for she was fire incarnate herself.

Feeling her tug on his arm, Aemond whirls to face her, impatient, furious. Vhagar rumbles like thunder from behind him, disturbed by her rider’s erratic energy, but makes no effort to move as she waits for him to mount her.

“Aemond…” Alys starts to sputter, “I - I don’t think she’ll let me ride...?” Terror clutches at her throat as she tries to stress to him the dire warning in the pit of her stomach, but he only smirks, taking hold of her chin with his thumb and forefinger, his breath fanning her face.

“Vhagar does as I command,” he says confidently as if this could assuage her fear, “but I am going to need your help with something else.”

Part 2 - WIP

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #ewan nation #alysmond #alys rivers #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x alys rivers #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #house of the dragon hbo

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moris-auri · 1 day

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Pull me close, wrap me in your aching arms

Aemond Targaryen x Baela Targaryen

A/n: spoilers for Fire & Blood, part of the Heaven is not fit (to house a love like you and I) verse

wc: 1588

“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.” ― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

"Your Grace."

The scratching of a quill faded as Baela Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, lifted her head as the sound of a throat being cleared cut through the air like a sword, shattering the stillness. She regarded the maidservant shrewdly from behind a desk of richly stained wood, her gaze moving over the familiar red and off white uniform of the servant standing before her, feeling a sense of half indignant irritation rising up inside her.

"What is it?" she asked, the tone of her voice taking on an impatient edge when the maid did not speak right away. "Hmm?'

"L- Lord Corlys sent me." The girl kept her head lowered as she spoke, throat bobbing as she swallowed, the words coming out in a half stammered rush. "He asks if you've seen His Grace recently."

Baela frowned at that, the crease between her brows deepening, her gaze growing sharper as she looked at the servant. "Is my husband not in the throne room or the Council chamber? The Library? The training yard?" she demanded, naming each place off the top of her head, a trickle of worry filling her with each shake of the maid's head.

"No, Your Grace."

She felt her worry shift with each word, turning into sharp as glass shards that gnawed at her ribcage like a wild beast, all but lodging in her chest. She forced it back, shoving her fear down into the dark, shadowed part of her. She could not panic. She would not. Even if that part of her knew how unlike him it was to do something like this; to vanish, all but melting into the shadows like a wraith in such a way to worry his entire Council, her grandfather included.

"Tell Lord Corlys I have not, and that I will find him myself," she said as she glanced up at the maid again, her voice stern.

The tips of the maid's ears went pink as she nodded her head, the rapid up and down motion not unlike a bird's. "Yes, my Queen."

Baela's gaze lowered again, catching the low sound of the maid's shoes on the floor as she left. Her worry grew, festering like a plague inside her despite her effort to suppress it. She pressed her fingers to her lips, the blunt edge of her nails digging into her upper lip. "Oh Aemond…" she could not help but murmur half to herself as her gaze slid to where she had set her crown to the side, the inlaid gems sending a near rainbow of color dancing over the stones, pearls and rubies and sapphire and emeralds set in gold.

She'd never forget the day Aemond had gifted it to her, his promise a month before bearing its fruition on a pillow of deep red, his words running a loop in her head. "I'd have you dripping in jewels," he'd panted roughly as he'd shifted his grasp of her waist, his chin resting on her stomach, glistening in the low light, the pupil of his eye eclipsed by black. "Rubies and sapphires and pearls, crafted just for you."

It had been hours since the maid had come and gone, and there had still been no trace of her husband. The sun had long since set now, the sky beyond the windows dark, lit and illuminated by the faint, distant specks of torchlight lining the streets.

She could feel the weight of her grandfather's stare all but burrowing into her from where he sat across the small table from her. "You haven't found him." His tone was flat as he spoke, his words more a statement than anything else.

Her fingertips drummed against the table's edge, hovering mere inches away from the half empty wine glass. "I said I would, Grandfather. And I will." She grumbled as she exhaled a breath, resisting the urge to snap at him, the serious tone to it making her hackles rise.

"That was hours before," he cut in, the tone of his laden with the unease he could not quite hide. "Look harder."

Her gaze lifted again at the sound of his voice. "Do you think I've just sat around twisting my thumbs? Aemond is my husband." She ground out, jaw clenched, feeling fury heat her cheeks as she glowered at him. "I have searched almost every inch of this place, grandfather, and will continue to do so," she added, voice raising slightly. "And need I remind you that you do not know him like I do. He will return when he wants."

Her grandfather's gaze was skeptical, his expression remaining unchanged, yet he did not say anything else besides make a gruff sound that was little more than a rumble in his chest, his gaze sliding away from her as he lifted his own cup to his lips.

Her mood only soured more as another day passed, the glow of morning turning slowly to nightfall as the hours flew by, one after the other. "Your Grace-" a low voice came from beyond the door, this one deeper than the girl the day before.

"What is it this time?"

"His Grace-"

She stiffened, rising quickly to her feet and moving towards the chamber door, leveling a flat look the servant's way as soon as the door closed behind her. "Where is he?"

The sound of her shoes was the only other noise in the dark as she moved down corridor after corridor, the broad back of the servant a pitch dark shadow in front of her. "You may go," she said to him distractedly, gaze locked on where Aemond stood with his arms behind his back as he stared up at the newly constructed tapestry bearing the silver-gold and auburn haired likenesses of his siblings and Alicent Hightower.

"There you are," she exhaled as soon as the servant had vanished back the way they'd come, leaving them in near complete darkness, save for the lone, weakly sputtering torch a distance away.

Of all the places she had searched, this corridor had to be the last place she would've thought of. This wing of the keep that had once been the chambers of his mother and his sister. It had been months since Alicent Hightower's death at the clawed hands of the outbreak of winter fever that had found its way into the Keep, taking her and others who called this place home, yet the memory of her all but clung to the pinkish stones.

He had all but withdrawn into himself the days after, throwing himself into ruling the Kingdom with an almost fevered intensity as an effort of hiding his pain behind an expression so blank and carefully set it left even her at a loss.

"You fool," she chastised as she drew closer on near silent feet, filled with no small amount of relief, and rage to a lesser extent. "What were you thinking? Disappearing like that. You had the near entirety of the Keep searching for you. Myself included."

Seconds ticked by, the low hum he made in the back of his throat the only indication he had heard her. She sighed again, carding the fingers of one hand through her hair as she stared at his back. "Something troubles you." The unspoken tell me lingered on the tip of her tongue. She would not beg him though, trusting him enough to know he would tell her when he was ready to.

"My siblings," he murmured half under his breath, "I never even got to mourn them. One second they were here, alive and breathing one moment…" he stopped, the already tense line of his shoulders tightening more, "...then dead the next."

"Aemond…" Her skirts brushed the heels of his boots as she stepped closer, winding her arms around him as she rested her forehead between his shoulder blades. His hands rose, settling atop hers, the feeling of the calluses on his palms rasping against her knuckles making her shiver. "Do you fear it?" she asked, holding her breath as she waited for him to respond. "Death. The Stranger. What waits for us beyond this life."

He hummed again, mulling over her words. "I don't."

He turned around then, his hands lifting to either side of her face. "For why should I fear it when I know you'd be waiting for me? And I for you?" he said, looking down at her, the assuredness in his voice stealing the breath from her lungs. "I'd find you in every lifetime," he continued, lips twitching briefly. "I'd know you in every life." The cadence of his voice was softer now, barely above a whisper as he stared down at her. "I am tethered to you now. As you are to me. Not even death would change that."

Baela could only stare at him, taken aback as a cacophony of things flooded her, threatening to blind her and swallow her whole- a hunger as rich as honey, affection as bright as sunlight, desire as heated as Vhagar’s flames licking at her skin.

"Hen lantoti ānogar, va sȳndroti vāedroma." He breathed, "Or have you forgotten, ñuha jorrāelagon?"

Blood of two, joined as one.

"Never."

He grinned, the not quite smile cutting across his mouth sharply.

#my fics #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x baela #baela targaryen #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd aemond #aemond #hotd baela #prince aemond #aemond one eye

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bonniebird · 16 hours

Text

Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Requested by Anon

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Request: Anonymous asked: "Why settle for a Duke when you can have a Prince?" reader is friends with Daemon Targaryen and she is being set up with a duke because her parents don't like Daemon.

The invitation for your family to join the royal house arrived less than a day after a rumour that the rogue prince had returned home. It was because of the rumour your father had tried terribly to find an excuse to turn down the offer.

Unfortunately for him, your entire family arrived three days after the request. “(Y/N)!” Your father hissed as you wandered off in the gardens. You turned to your father and the dreadfully boring young man who had been failing to hold a conversation with you.

“Father!” You said back in the same tone and waited for him to say something. The man stood nervously and looked at your father who sighed. Then he made an oddly stiff face that looked as if he were trying to hold in a sneeze.

“(Y/N).” The familiar voice caused you to turn and you smiled as you met Daemon’s gaze.

“Prince Daemon!” The young man said and bowed. You raised an eyebrow and did nothing more than offer Daemon the back of your hand to kiss. He smiled and did just that, holding onto your hand for a moment longer than he needed.

“My brother has a new garden made up of plants Corlys and I brought back from our respective journeys. Perhaps you would like to see them.” Daemon offered. He had already extended his arm for you to take as your father started to object.

“Father. You could not possibly expect me to snub the king’s own brother.” You scolded and let Daemon lead you away as the prince chuckled to himself.

“Who was the nervous boy?” Daemon asked. You sighed and leaned your weight onto your elbow, against the crook of his arm, arms twined together as you walked at a slow pace.

“Some duke or something. Father is trying to use me to marry his way up in the world.” You said with a sigh. Daemon scoffed and shook his head.

"Why settle for a Duke when you can have a Prince?" He gestured to himself and you laughed.

“You are not arrogant enough to think he would not find some way to have you killed on your wedding night?” You joked quietly and he snickered slightly.

“Fortunately for me, I do not think he would be able to pull something like that off successfully.” he grinned when you gasped and rested a hand over your chest.

“My prince. Such scathing judgement of my father! Though perhaps… truthful.” You both laughed again and began talking about everything and anything you could think of. You paced the Keep together winding a path until your feet ached and you insisted on sitting somewhere.

“My lady. Your father has asked that you join… I mean… I… would like you to join me…” The duke, having found you once you and Daemon had become stationary, stuttered and stumbled over his words. You tried your best to look kind and encouraging though with Daemon failing to hide his amusement beside you it was harder than you wanted it to be. “Your company for the evening.” He finally got out. Daemon’s laugh finally escaped him and the poor boy looked as if he would happily leap down Caraxes’ throat.

“You wish to have a fine lady of Westeros keep you company for the night?” Daemon asked. His tone was accusatory though you, and perhaps his brother, could tell easily that he was joking. The young duke gasped and shook his head.

“He jests my lord.” You said. This relieved the poor creature's nerves. He had, simply put become, a trembling wreck before you.

“(Y/N) is dining with the king this evening.” Daemon said before either of you could say anything more. You turned to Daemon who glanced at you and gave the duke a chance to retreat which he must have taken in a hurry as, when you looked at him, he had gone.

“Cruel beast.” You said affectionately and smacked at Daemon’s arm. He chuckled and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence for a while before deciding to walk around the keep again.

Daemon tags:

@decadentrebelkitten @samhainrain @moonmaidwn1996 @gillybear17 @ravennoore14 @the-caravello-post @killing-gremlin @aegonandaemondtargaryenslut18 @lchufflepuffcorn @lightqueen16 @savagemickey03 @evattude @kaitieskidmore1 @the-troubled-raven @taemyra @tronnily

#daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen x reader #bonniebird

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 2 days

Text

The Silver Dragon (7)

Cold Fire

Having been worse than ignored by Daemon at the funeral, Arianwyn finally comes face to face with her father.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: none

Author's Note: daddy's home...

Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

The first time Arianwyn called someone ‘papa,’ it was not Prince Daemon Targaryen.

King Viserys had come to the nursery to see her dragon. He’d made a habit of doing so about once per week. Arianwyn and Aemond loved when he came, for they would get to sit on his big, soft lap and listen to him tell stories.

Aemond fell asleep halfway through the first story. It was about a beautiful Valyrian princess who lived her life confined in a tower, who only escaped when a handsome Valyrian prince fell in love with her without even seeing her and rescued her on his great dragon. That story was a particular favorite of hers.

She snuggled closer to the king, holding her dragon – who was also asleep – in her arms. “Read another one, papa?”

The king frowned, his face crinkling. “Oh, little Aria, I’m not your papa.”

How could that be? Aegon and Aemond called him ‘father,’ and Helaena called him ‘papa.’ Why was it different for her? “Why not?”

“Because someone else is your father,” the king said. “Your father is my brother – he is your papa. I am your uncle, your kepa.”

She considered for a moment. Aunt was her aunt, not her mother, and Aunt was married to the king. She supposed it made sense. “Where is my papa?”

“He is…” the king, Uncle, looked away from her, out the window to the sea. “He is far away.”

“When is he coming back?”

“I don’t know, my sweet.” He looked sad. Very sad.

Arianwyn did not want him to be sad. If he was sad, he wouldn’t read to her more. “Which story is your favorite, Uncle Kepa?”

He laughed, but she didn’t know why. But he began reading again, so it was fine.

That evening, once Aegon and Helaena had returned from wherever they went during the day, Arianwyn explained what she had learned to Helaena and Aemond. But Aegon laughed at her when she mentioned her father and how she couldn’t wait for him to come back.

“Why would he come back?” he asked.

It seemed like a silly question to her. “To see me.”

Aegon shook his head. “He doesn’t want to or need to. He has a new family across the sea – two new daughters. Besides, he’s had more than ten years to see you. If he wanted to, he would have done it already.”

Aemond started to yell at him and threw a stuffed velvet rabbit at him. But Arianwyn said nothing.

What Aegon said felt like the truth. She could feel it in her chest like the weight of half a dozen books. Her father stayed across the sea because she did not want to see her – he did not want to be her father.

She never called anyone ‘papa’ again.

The main dining room at High Tide was as lavish as the rest of the castle. A great table, some twenty feet long, ran through the center of the room. From the uneven grain and sun-bleached color of the wood itself, it was clear to all who laid eyes on it that it had been constructed of driftwood – Lord Corlys was many things, but subtle he was not. The twenty-two chairs set around the table were made of the same wood, backboards reaching up in points shaped by the sea.

Prince Daemon Targaryen sat on one of these chairs – at the head of the table – slouching with disinterest as he picked at the wood of the armrest with his fingernails. He did not look up when the queen entered the room, his daughter trailing sheepishly behind her.

Arianwyn thought her heart would burst out of her chest for how fast it beat. She could no more decipher her own churning feelings than the expression on her father’s face. She curtsied, just as her Septa had instructed. But she said nothing.

Neither did Daemon.

After long moments of silence, the queen spoke. “My Prince, may I introduce the Lady Arianwyn.” She fixed him with her most withering glare. “Your daughter.”

“Yes, I can see that,” the Prince drawled, at last looking at the girl. He scanned his violet eyes over her like she were livestock to be appraised. “She has her mother’s piggy little nose.”

Arianwyn clenched her fist to prevent her hand from flying to her face, resisting the instinct to cover the apparently offensive feature. A fire ignited in her heart, setting her blood boiling.

The queen herself had to bite her tongue to hold back a curt reply. Instead, she smoothed the front of her dress and spoke again. “I am pleased to say that she is a fine, accomplished young lady. She has excelled in her studies, and the Dragonkeepers report she is equally talented as a dragonrider.”

Daemon grinned as if he had been told a foul joke. “I’d heard the egg hatched. Let me guess, a bronze she-dragon?”

Forcing out a shaking breath, Arianwyn shook her head.

Her father pursed his lips, “Pity. You could have called it after your mother. Few enemies would stand a chance against the Bronze Bitch.”

“How dare you?” Arianwyn spat, her oath of silence and indifference entirely abandoned. “How dare you insult my mother?”

Alicent placed a hand on her niece’s elbow to calm the girl’s rage. But Arianwyn ripped her arm away, stalking around the massive table to advance on her father. “You’ve never cared about me for a single moment of my entire life. And now, after ten years, you finally ask to see me only so you can insult me and continue to defame the woman you tortured in life?” She reached the end of the table, fire blazing in her grey eyes as she stared down at Daemon. “What kind of cowardly monster are you?”

Sighing, Daemon pulled himself from his chair. He was so much taller than her, even when he leaned to brace his hands on either side of the driftwood table. “I did not ask to see you.”

Something cracked in Arianwyn’s chest at those words, as the last shred of a primal, desperate hope for reconciliation with her father – a hope she did not know she still held – died. Tears finally spilled from her eyes, and she whirled around toward Alicent.

The queen’s heart broke when she saw the utter devastation on the girl’s face – knowing she had been its architect. “I am so sorry, Aria,” she breathed. “I thought… A child should know her father.”

Before either woman could say anything more, Daemon strolled casually around the opposite end of the table, a self-satisfied smile across his lips. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies, but there are people in this castle I should like to meet.”

Neither Alicent nor Arianwyn moved a muscle until the door had thudded shut behind him. Then and only then did Arianwyn fall to her knees, letting out a cry that would shatter the frozen heart of an ice dragon.

Arianwyn cried for hours, despite Alicent and Brynna’s attempts to soothe her. But there was no calming her fury. It continued to grow, burning brighter and hotter than even the black fire of Balerion, a ferocity that could only come from a shattered Targaryen heart.

She had told herself that she did not care what Daemon thought of her, that she had lived her life happily enough without him, and even that she hated him after what he had done to Rhea. Yet, true as those feelings were, there remained a piece of her soul that yearned for the love and approval of her only remaining parent. To have that piece destroyed, even when it was suppressed for so long, was a wound from which most would never recover.

But Arianwyn was not just any girl. She was the blood of Old Valyria and the daughter of Runestone. She would endure.

When her throat was raw from screaming and her eyes at last dry of tears, she let the fire that burned in her soul cool. It was not quenched – nor would it be for many years to come. Instead, the sprawling red blaze in her chest joined together in a single flame of crackling silvery blue. This fire burned not with heat, but a cold that made the icy fields beyond the Wall look like a scorching Dornish desert.

Fire burned in the soul of every Targaryen born – but precious few had ever burned cold.

Alicent offered to have dinner brought up to Arianwyn, but she refused. She would not hide in a tower like a damsel from a story. She would walk once more into that dining room with her head held high and look upon her father with her mother’s grey eyes. She would show him just how like Rhea she was – that even bent and cracked, she would not break.

#aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond imagine #prince aemond #aemond x oc #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd aemond #aemond fic #hotd fanfic #aemond xf!oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #the silver dragon

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