greenlyren12

[greenlyren12]

Hello!! I have an art account as well :)

lets go best frien

[greenlyren12]

Repairs - Crosshair x GN!Reader

word count: 2.2k

Summary: Set after Crosshair's rescue from the platform, reader is on a mission to help him heal.

A/N:

Hello, my plan for this is to be a 2 parter, so expect an update soon. My whole idea for this fic was to give crossy a friend and some comfort, we all need it after that episode. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, have a nice day/night :)

The Empire had clasped its ugly claws around your planet years ago. Your parents had witnessed it all, in the start – the Separatists and now Palpatine’s dictatorship. Being born into it, you knew nothing of the outside worlds. Dreaming seemed unallowed for you. All labor done on the planet was for feeding the fat bellies of imperials and fueling their death ships.

Choice was never an option, nor was peace, but it went down to two paths for everyone – arduous physical work or the medical field. Everyone from janitors to high ranking pilots was worked to death and by decision, it was your job to fix them up.

Working in rehabilitation was dispiriting, some of the sights you were a witness to, you’d never stop having nightmares about. It was plain and simple, everyone was a cog in their machine, therefore expandable. Taking care of all kinds of people helped you make peace with yourself a little. You had seen it all, from twi’leks with missing parts of their lekkus to humans who could not do anything by themselves anymore.

That was your everyday, drowning in patients in the hopes of achieving something good.

***

Today was nothing unusual, though you had a new patient coming. Sitting in a chair in front of the door, you waited for his arrival. With crossed legs and a perplexed look on your face, you read his records on your datapad. One finger tapping the metal handle of the chair, to say you were interested would be an understatement.

It was heartbreaking,

All empire documentation was devoid of any kind of emotion, so you had a knack for sensing the real situation. Usually, all clone cases made your heart twist in pain, but this in particular was tragic. The creation of the bred for war only soldiers was deplorable.

As you were reading about his brothers’ desertion, a dark figure entered. Looking up with heavy eyelids from the lack of sleep, your gaze met his. Your first thought was that he was beautiful, all clones were, but he was different. The man in front of you was lithe and tall, but there was something twisted inside of him. As if the air around him sizzled with tension. His shoulders fell heavy, though his copper eyes contrasted his gloomy nature. A dark gash painted the right side of his head and bellow, on his eye laid a crosshair tattoo.

He looked different from the kept records photos, his silver locks were missing and he looked sadder, if it were more possible.

Not wanting to keep him at the entrance, you stood up, carefully approaching him. The clone seemed perpetually on edge, so taking very careful steps, as if to not disturb him, you stood in front of him.

“Good morning, sir.” You happily chimed.

The man eyed you, head to toe, with a very angry look. The scowl he apparently always wore deepened and he said nothing. Awkward silence was let to drown the room. You gave him an unamused look, that was rude for no reason.

“Follow me.” Annoyance laced in your tone, you avoided his eye.

You led him to the countertop where you kept your track records, physical evaluations were always first. The work assigned to you would not be a lot, reading of what he went through on that platform, the mental rehabilitation would be a lot more taxing.

He moved like a feline, but also very rigid. Every move the clone made was deliberate and thought through, a soldier's preciseness always put you on edge.

“Put your arms up please.” You requested, as if you were the one being evaluated, his stare burned holes in your body.

The man in front of you put his arms up and looked dead in front, unmoving like a statue, like he was scared to show he was breathing.

Always keeping a check on his face, scared of seeing it contort with anger again, you carefully started examining his left hand.

“Do you sleep well, CT-9904?”

You hated referring to them by their numbers, but this was protocol and the clone had already stated his dislike of being here.

“Do you?” He said with all of the offense he could muster, eyebrows knitting, mouth turning downside.

Getting caught off guard by his insolence you stopped checking his arm and looked at him questioningly. The nerve of this guy. The answer to your question laid under his eyes, it was clear.

Who would be able to sleep after being left for dead?

You had seen enough faces to know, he was tormented. After all, this was standard procedure and making conversation made the patients feel better, apparently not this one.

Switching to his right arm and keeping your composure you asked him nicely.

“What is your name?” Offering him a sweet smile.

For the first time you saw a different emotion from anger on his face. Surprisement was clear on his features for a good second, then he put the mask back on. If he had to be frank with himself, no one had acknowledged his existence in so long, let alone ask him for his name.

“Crosshair.” The sniper, apparently, said with mouth forming a tight line, gazing curiously at you now.

Looking at his right eye you snorted.

“Bright one, aren���t you.” You said while shaking your head and then you felt a fracture on his palm.

The pressure should’ve made him flinch or at least wince but he was cold as a stone.

“You’re not on the battlefield anymore, I’m here to help you.” You said sadly while holding his index finger, searching for something in his eyes.

“I don’t need your help.” Crosshair venomously bit, never breaking eye contact.

You started to understand the game he was playing, and two could play that game.

“Your officer seems to think differently.”

“Look, there is clearly something wrong with your palm,” You said while writing down his injuries on your datapad.

“I know it hurts, I’m not going to twist it if you show any kind of emotion, if you don’t keep testing me that’s it.” You looked at him with a smile.

“Noted.” Crosshair said with the slightest tint of amusement.

Feeling proud of getting the littlest smile off him, you placed your datapad on the counter next to you.

“I have a proposition.” You requested after eyeing him carefully.

Crosshair grunted a hm and let you finish, while crossing his arms in front of him, cocking his hip. He was very alluring, if you forgot his off-putting demeanor.

“My schedule for today is to get you moving your body, but you seem very off on me helping you and If I don’t do my job, I will get in trouble. So why don’t you follow my lead and I’ll just watch from here, marksman? 

Crosshair weighed his options, thinking, he decided this was the best course.

“Okay.” The sniper grumbled.

You sat on a chair next to the counter, putting your head on your palm and intently observing him, even if he was a pain in the ass, his presence was a breath of fresh air.

You spent the next 30 minutes explaining exercises to him and, surprisingly, he followed every instruction.

Crosshair was stretching his shoulders now.

“Can I ask anything about your life?” You playfully asked him, already knowing the answer, cocking your head to the side waiting for an answer.

“No.” The clone almost cut you mid sentences as he bent down to his toes.

“When did you get the injury on your head?”

Crosshair shot you such a ferocious look you almost fell down your chair. Putting your hands in one another for some type of comfort you shot him a sorry look.

“I’m sorry for what happened.” You truthfully said to the dejected clone.

“I don’t need your pity.” He didn’t look you in the eye now.

“But I do pity you, and you do need someone’s pity, what happened to you was awful. I’m sure you did not deserve it, I’m sorry.” It was your job to comfort people but this was genuine.

For all of Crosshair’s silence, he was very easy to read. You think he understood you, and he graced you with a hm.

“Are you eating well?” You tried to lighten the mood.

“Have you seen the food in the mess?” Crosshair rhetorically asked you.

“Fair point, I can bring you something from home next time.”

***

Crosshair remained in your care for the next 3 months. You reread his file multiple times. Truthfully, you teared up while reading it the last time, you were sure he had no friends now. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself but you anticipated his visits and he was showing progress. He somehow became nice company, letting his guard down, he always knew what to say.

It was just a speculation on your part but he really did have no one. Crosshair was out of commission and he was useless to the Empire, he missed his brothers now more than ever. Everyday was the same lonely pit and he could not bear it anymore. After the second week he couldn’t sleep anymore, night terrors. Everyone avoided him, except for you. You seemed to have an interest in him for a reason he could not fathom, and you genuinely enjoyed spending time with him. So he frequented your office as much as he could, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do.

Over time he let you touch him, he felt like a boy again but it was beyond him, he was so alone.

“Can you show me how to do this?” Crosshair almost seductively requested.

He took you by surprise, he knew the exercise by heart, he wanted you to touch him. Over time you practiced manners together, if he wanted to be a functioning member of society he had to let the attitude go. That, of course, never happened, but he became softer and nicer. He started saying please and thank you, little did you know he only did it for you. He loved your gratification and you loved praising him, only you deserved that side of him in his eyes.

“Manners, sniper.” You joyfully said while approaching him.

“Please.” He genuinely asked.

“Are you finally going to let me do my job?”

“Happy, doc?” He smiled at you, a rare sight.

A totally professional setting could not be more intimate, Crosshair was extremely closed off and he let you inside his space, to guide him. You closed the space between each other and gingerly guided his arm up while pressing a palm on the small of his back. You felt every breath he took, slow and careful but his heart was pounding. His clear anxiousness got you nervous as well and you stumbled on his foot. Completely towering over you, he helped you regain your footing.

“You getting nervous?” He said with a devilish smile.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Cross.” You replied while putting a distance between the two of you.

“I know a liar when I see one, cyare.”

He started calling you that about two weeks ago. You had no idea what the nickname meant and he refused to grace you with an explanation, so you figured the worst.

“Don’t get on my bad side, lanky.” You teased him while going for your papers.

***

You dreaded today, it was Crosshair’s last appointed visit. Which meant he would not need you anymore, he wouldn’t be obliged to visit. It made something inside you twist in agony, you’d miss him. He would be assigned missions again and he would be busy.

He could die.

You swatted that thought out of your mind and entered the rehabilitation room. A little bit after that he entered as well. Both of you were clearly feeling down. You sat expectantly on your chair and waited for him to start his warm up but he stilled.

Offering you a palm Crosshair spoke to you.

“Want to do this together?” For the first time he was unsure of himself in front of you, but he craved you and your touch.

Your gaze widened and you smiled.

“I would love to.”

You spent the entire session glued to each other, helping him and guiding him. Being a part of his healing process, you joked around together and he graced you with a quiet laugh for the first time. You were truly happy for a while.

He was still the same bruised clone that entered your room 3 months ago but something had shifted in him. A different kind of glint sparkled in his brown eyes now. It made your heart ache, you didn’t want to lose him.

Being done with everything you let go of him but remained close, looking in his eyes you just stayed. Crosshair closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to your own, your breath hitched and you melted by his innocent touch. You caressed his bad arm and just stayed like this for a while. Pulling back, you gave him the sweetest smile you could, no words were exchanged and none were needed to.

You said your goodbyes.

“If anything hurts again, you come to me, you hear me, do not suffer in silence.”

He gave you a melancholic look and turned around to leave. Stalling on the entrance he looked back at you.

“I got burned after my brothers deserted.” Crosshair finally answered your question and left out the door.

[greenlyren12]

Waytelem

Neteyam x Reader

word count: 1k

Summary: Tradition with Neteyam

A/N:

"Individuals create a songcord that is used as a tactile representation of their own personal or family. Na'vi create their own song cords and expand on them continuously, adding a new item to the cord for any significant life event that occurs."

"Traditionally, once a Na'vi male has passed the tests on the path to manhood and has been accepted into the clan as an adult, he is not only allowed to make his bow from the wood of the Hometree, but he is also expected to choose his woman."

Two blue feet glued to the wooden branch below you, focused on keeping balance, you strolled ahead under the shadow of greenery. Rays of sunshine pooled beneath you, serenity chirping around, causing your ears to flutter. 

Stopping at almost every step, you lovingly caressed the manifestations of the Great Mother. From sensitive to the touch, peach colored mushrooms to hanging azure vines. Every breath you took was synchronized with the forest. 

Happiness was simple. 

As all things seemed in tune, a particularly annoying tail kept disturbing your peace. Finding the joy in tickling your nose and poking whichever eye it chose. Having enough of it, you swiftly seized it between your grasp and tugged on it.

“Neteyam, you säsrätx!”

The boy fastened his pace and collected his tail back with a toothy smile.

“Ikniyama is close, this should not even phase you.” The young na’vi snickered.

“That was your last breath, skxawng.” You evilly laughed and began to chase him, pinching the back of his legs whenever you could. 

Both of you quickly climbed up the trunk of a particularly large tree. Ascending to a naturally formed platform, secluded from the eye. Neteyam was first to sit down, carefully putting his bow and arrows beside him. 

You followed, going by his side, slapping his cheek with your tail. Proudly sitting down with your legs crossed, you expected a reaction - and none was received. Instead, he remained seated in front of you, a smug smile painting the lower half of his face. Not even looking at you, he busied himself with detaching his songcord from his waist cloths. 

You mirrored his actions, getting yours out.

“You know, this is unacceptable behavior from the future Olo’уektan.” An emotionless statement from you, which purpose was to get under his skin. 

Finally meeting your gaze, Neteyam laid his songcord on the ground.

“And this is the behavior expected from a child.” He said with a smile. 

The boy did not mean for it to hurt, but it did. By the clan’s way he was an adult, having completed the rite of passage. And you - half a year younger and still a kid. Being born again, it scared you. The uncertainty never left your weary shoulders. But it was close, you could do it. Conclude it and become a functioning member of the clan.

Neteyam’s soft nature immediately noted your silence. 

“You know I did not mean it.” The boy worryingly said while reaching out to caress your hand. 

Meeting his copper eyes, you let your face fall down.

“I will wait for you.”  He matter of factly reassured your downcast frame.

I will wait for you, he said, of its true meaning you pondered.

Would he wait for you? 

Both of your lives were intertwined from small children, you had always known him. Seeing him grow from Neteyam the Mighty Fisherman to Neteyam the Fierce Warrior. The youthful adoration was now a clumsy teenage love, but none of you dared to say a word. Ever since you could remember you had always done everything together. it was natural, you just always lingered by his side and he by yours. it was funny actually, right now was one of those moments. 

it was a tradition to weave your songcords together, if you had a closer look at them you would see they were almost identical. 

His last words had your cheeks become a deep shade of purple now, ears back, you squeezed his hand.

“Do not speak of such things, Nete.” Your tone low from embarrassment. 

His hand from yours went up to your nose to flick it so you could look him in the eye, missing your usual demeanor. 

“Whatever you wish, yawne.” The young na’vi went back to fiddling with his songcord. 

“Neteyam!”

You spent the next hour twining a fragment of an ikran’s tooth between the string. From when Neteyam claimed his own ikran and as it was your first time climbing the Hallelujah mountains. 

With Neteyam’s help you crushed it to smaller bits, so it could be easily woven into the cord. 

The time shared together was mostly spent in singing personal songs, only for your closest to hear. It served as an escape from the daily chores of life, hidden from parents and siblings. 

“I think i’m done.” Neteyam broke the silence first. 

You grabbed his hand and pulled for closer inspection, catching the boy by surprise. It was now your turn to make him nervous. 

A shy expression and a tight line forming on his mouth, he intently looked and waited for an answer.  

“It’s beautiful, Nete.” You flashed a toothy grin, fangs poking out. 

“Thank you.” His expression made your stomach turn, this boy would be the death of you. 

Neteyam retracted his palm and pulled out petals from a sun lily. His hand unsurely remained in front of him, scared to proceed. You curiously gazed at the boy, irises enlarging and tail nervously swatting. 

“Come closer.” He sweetly commanded, closing the space between you. 

For the first time ever, you silently obliged, standing on your four limbs, you waited. Something was different this time, the air was heavy, you dared not ruin it.

Neteyam carefully put the flower petals behind your ear, making your breath hitch. He pulled back, remaining a few inches from your face, noses almost touching. None of you moved, intently looking into the other’s eyes. You could see the light reflecting in his tawny orbs. 

He was beautiful.

The young na’vi slowly closed the space between your lips. The sweetness of the first kiss, gentle and loving. Scared of everything, both of you barely moved. You delicately pulled back, meeting his eyes and diving back in with a smile. This time more confident, Neteyam cupped your cheek, keeping you in place, growing eager by the second. You have no idea how long you had stayed like this.

And then you felt it. 

A tickling sensation on top of your heads, both of you pulled back, carefully looking up to inspect. 

A woodsprite gently hovered above you. 

He will wait for you.

Na'vi translation:

waytelem - songcord säsrätx - annoyance iknimaya - the rite of passage for young Na'vi skxawng - idiot olo’eyktan - clan leader yawne - beloved

[greenlyren12]

Treasure

Chapter IV

Find Chapter III here

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

warnings: mentons of violence

word count: 2.4k

Summary: The Prince's gift.02

A/N: As of now, this will be the conclusion to the story. Though if i have motivation in the future maybe i'll post some more of this au. Feedback is appreciated as always! <3

 

How much time had it past, you did not have a clue. For once, the clock had seemed to slow down, each hand etching into the wood below, refusing to tick again. As if the Seven had heard your most sacred wish, obligations trailed somewhere far behind. The sun sank into the horizon, crimson drowning the atmosphere. The Prince’s chambers beamed in oranges, contrasting the viridescent cushion you sat on. Hands clasped comfortably in your lap, you gazed down. The flush never leaving your face.

Aemond wanted you painted.

Forever ingrained in canvas, your spirit eternal. Even after decades, when he would be remembered as the Regal Prince who flew the largest dragon in the world, diamonds embedded in his eye and you, no one. It would still be you who was immortalized on the hemp, in his wish. With each attentive brush stroke, the older man painted you in full. From head to toe, melancholy in your look, wearing the shades of House Hightower, a dragon between your breasts. The artist trembled with each move, in all probability due to being fiercely instructed by Aemond. He had not met your gaze once, though you scarcely looked at him.

A deep sense of sadness gloomed inside of you still. Forced to look at the Prince, unmoving. As if you had grown roots into the ground below, your eyes never leaving his. Realization had dawned upon you. Without the presence of his intoxicating touch, with a clear mind, you pondered at the misery of a situation you had in front of you. Both of you had given up reason for pleasure. With no conversation, no words needed you latched to each other’s beings. You never asked him, never asked anything. Terrified of what you’d hear, of the feelings which seemed eternalized in your core. But the Prince was so sweet and you never wondered, what was his life now?

How did he turn into the cunning man he was today, for you knew the pain needed for such transformation. Feeling responsible for your abstinence in his life, your fingers twitched in pain. For not being there to caress his right cheek, the one with your favorite freckle. Which was now gone, as most of him was. His face was a mask now, accented with leather.

You imagined him small, fair and ivory in the tragic Castle.

Aemond was already of age, waiting to be betrothed. His hand was a crucial political chess piece, which would not be given easily. Even you knew this not to be true, you still wondered. Did he feel for you as deeply as you did? You knew it wouldn’t matter, you were a mere lamb in the dragon’s grasp, and the lamb was foolish.

However life decided to twist itself, for him to be yours was unimaginable. You always knew that, yet it still stayed as a lump in your sore throat. It would fester there forever, you thought.

Your life was of no amount, your existence’s only purpose to be a tool. A clog in his machine.

It was your wish for this night to be stretched into infinity, for you did not know when you would have this luxury ever again. A tear formed in the bottom of your eye, silently falling to its death on your lap.

Aemond’s face perked up, so adept to the slightest change in your behavior. His fingers dug into the rests of the chair, what was the reason for your sadness? The Prince had studied you for hours, committing every curve, every crevice to memory.

The tragic sorrow that filled him, the guilt put daggers in his heart. He had trouble remembering your face after all those years. He remembered everything else, every touch and every braid. The kind words you did not spare him but gift, all of the history books you used to read to him. The ring of your laughter still sounded in his ears. You were the beacon which showed him the path, that he was human, deserving of respect. For that, you deserved everything that he so badly wanted to give you.

He lied in the dark a lot, at night remembering the day you separated at Driftmark. At first it was sorrow, then it was anger which was easier to process. How could you abandon him?

In his sleepless nights you flashed between dreams and memories, deformed by childhood innocence. The fear of not remembering you correctly, it gnawed at him. You were an all too perfect part of his youth, too good for his now darkened mind.

The thought of seeing you again seemed all too impossible with each passing day and faith had left him a long time ago.

Regardless you stood there now, in the flesh. Living and breathing, so reactive to every single one of his touches. As a harp you sang with every tug he pulled on your soul. He had you between his claws, repercussions be damned, you would not disappear again. For he could not bear it.

And he would put you on hemp for infinity, to forever have you in his hold. He would not forget again, he could not.

Now a tear glistened down your cheek, that was to be fixed immediately.

“Leave us.” Aemond put all his gathered sorrow into the command.

The painter almost jumped from his seat, whether it was from happiness or terror, or both, you did not know. He gathered his supplies as fast as he could, dropping a tube in the process. Aemond’s icy eye pierced through his being, if it was possible, fumes would come out of his nostrils. He left the canvas in the center of the room, unfinished.

The man hurriedly egressed the Prince’s apartments. 

You felt for him, for Aemond’s cruelty was unnecessary. The front he put up, you understood only to an extent.

It was the first time you avoided his look, which was now softened. Something tugged at his chest, mouth forming a tight line.

“Are you scared of me?” What was supposed to be an accusation seemed too blue. The insecurity clear behind his tone. Even with you, the instinct was to attack.

“No,” You met his eye.

“You just seem all too changed, Aemond.”

He remained seated, as did you. Distance was needed for a comprehensive conversation, a fact you both respected.

The hurt was clear on his face and silence followed.

“It is only natural, time has not been kind to both of us.” You comforted him.

“Rhaenyra is said to leave for Dragonstone soon.”

A knife in your throat, why had you not been informed? Why so soon, again? Your head grew heavier, how could you be made to leave, now, with him in front of you. A finger cracked in your lap. You were too tired of this. A soulless gaze, you stayed still.

“You will remain here.”

“And how exactly?” Anger poisoned your mind now, you had no right to be angry at him.

“I do not know, as of yet.” Defeat in his voice.

“You cannot leave me.” He said, as if to prove a point.

“Aemond, I could be killed for this.” A dangerous truth you whispered.

He elegantly stood from his chair, three long strides and he was in front of you, unbelievable hurt in his eyes. The Prince did not possess the strength to hide in front of you, not now.

You slowly got up from the cushions, inadvertently picking at your cuticles.

“You know I would never let that happen.” He got a hold of yours arms, squeezing you for reassurance.

You were not certain of what he was searching for in your gaze, but he was frantic.

“You won’t be able to protect me forever, Aemond.” You refused to meet his eye, it was unbearable to tell him the truth as it was.

“Look at me.” What would usually be a command was now a plea. His grasp on your arms got stronger. You made him feel a child again, helpless. Kicked into the corner without an escape. If it wasn’t you, he would’ve hated you.

“I won’t allow you to leave again.” Inability made him agitated. He was the all powerful Second Son, how could life refuse him in such a way.

“I am not a dragon to claim!” You yelled into his face, tears prickling into the corner of your eyes. A palm on his chest, you tried to push for the sake of space, to able to breathe.

“I have been tossed around all my life, I have no agency of my own being. You and your own kind have taken my existence from my own hands. You will not imprison me in your life as everyone else has. I will not be your whore until the end of my days. I cannot be your secret, I cannot allow myself that. All of the little effect I have left on my being, I will not allow you to drown it out. For all the love I bear for you, the Seven will never forgive me nor will I, but how could I leave you alone when we were so little?” You were unable to breathe now.

His usual wide eye was now half closed, looking at yours distressed face. Such misery, you had not seen on his features before.

Aemond embraced you, no distance was allowed, you pressed into his body as if you were going to become one, sobs choking you.

“Believe me, you have been in my prayers since we were mere children. It is my most sacred wish to be yours, but your love will kill me.” A faint whisper in his milk hair, you nuzzled further into his neck.

You were squeezed under his touch. A sound escaped him which you thought you would never hear.

A quiet sob escaped past Aemond Targaryen’s lips.

You heart sank and you tugged on his locks.

“Oh, my love.” You whispered against his ear, tears staining his neck.

He pulled away, gently caressing your check and pressing his forehead on your own. Nudging his nose against yours.

“Until my last breath, even if it means my life, you will not be harmed, even if you do not want it. I will never allow it. My heart is yours.”

Secret vows spoken beneath the all judging night sky, vows no one else would ever hear.

You looked him in the eye, saying all which you could not utter. A kiss you gifted him, with all your love you had for him, gratitude and awe. Cupping his right cheek, your thumb got dangerously close to the outline of his eyepatch. Instead of putting it away, he got a hold of your wrist, pushing it further into his burning flesh.

This was different to your previous kisses, it was sincere and raw. No teeth dragged across skin nor tongues fought. It was closest you would get to becoming one, almost. A reassuring palm steadied you on the back of your neck. The taste of salt was clear on your lips.

“You’re the flower I gifted to you all those years ago, I will preserve you until my last day. Between the pages if that is what you want, even if it means you’re not a part of my life.” He whispered into your lips, a sparkle of a tear fell down his cheek.

“Hold me, like you once did.” You thought such vulnerability was impossible for him.

A chocked chuckle escaped past your throat and you looked up at him, eyelashes glistening from the tears.

“You are no longer little Aemond.” The boy who used to look up to you, one head below was gone.

“But you will forever be my Aemond.”

Such a beautiful, rare, genuine smile beamed at you from above. You swore you could see stars in his eye.

Underestimating your own power, your hands quickly fell to his waist, gripping, you tried to pick him up. Miserably failing, you barely managed to lift his heels.

A carefree laugh filled the room, reminding you of your childhood days.

“What are you doing?” Clearly puzzled by your actions, he laughed, gripping your shoulders.

“You wanted to be held my Prince, did you not?” You humored him.  

In an instant, Aemond regained his footing and grabbed you below the knees and waist, carrying you to the armchair. He took his time, to smile and marvel at you. Even for one night, you would live like you wished to.

He placed you onto his lap and you pressed palms against his chest.

You intently looked at his covered eye.

Tugging at the golden clasp which held together his leather shirt you gazed at him with doe eyes.

“I want to see you.” You intently looked at the eyepatch.

“All of you.”

Aemond adverted your eyes, smile forming into a reluctant line.

You reached out to your favorite side of his face.

“I used to hold you here all that time ago,” you swiped below the rim of the leather, “do not deny me, please.”

Meeting your warm eyes, he slowly nodded.

You reached out with your other hand, biting your lower lip. Carefully pulling the fabric away, afraid of tugging on his beautiful hair. You pulled back to fully take him in.

He was mesmerizing.

Lips parted in wonder, eyes wide, you unabashedly stared.

He was oh so fair, facing away from you, his regal nose in all its beauty, the scar danced across his face, with deep shades of crimson. In the hollow of his eye socket laid the sky which slept above the blackwater at night. Deep cobalt, with white specks reflecting the candles in the room.

A sapphire for a treasure, you thought.  

He looked so young beneath you, closest to what you remembered of him. Fragments of shy smiles and gentle caresses.

“I missed you.” You finally broke the silence, which deafened him with each second passing.

His eyes snapped to you, his thumb gently brushed against your waist, unsure still.

You gently grabbed his face by the sides and sank down, giving him a wishful kiss above his bad eye.

“My Aemond.” You whispered.

Resting your head on the side of his face, taking his smell in, you sighed.

“I love you.” The Prince whispered, only for your ears to hear.

[greenlyren12]

Part 4 to the Mask you Wear has been posted to ao3 and will be later to tumblr! Under the same username

[greenlyren12]

A Gift

Chapter III

Find Chapter II here

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

warnings: smut, cunnilingus, mentions of rope play, allusion to voyeurism

word count: 3.1k

Summary: The Prince's gift.

A/N: My apologies, this was supposed to be twice the length. Unfortunately, due my schedule, posting the chapter in it's original scope would've taken me a week. So take this as a 3.1, 3.2 will pick up right from where we left off.

The day until late afternoon was spent in you chambers. Golden sun rays painted the floor, you lied on your bed. Head beneath your silk pillows, a habit you unconsciously picked up over the years. An attempt to close out the outside world. Darkness enveloping your mind and all form of sound muffled, a quiet death.

Aemond had your consciousness between his treacly grasp. The feeling of his feverish touch on your flesh ingrained in the depths of your mind. He had escorted you to your chambers in the midst of the night, hair disheveled and cheeks rosy. A kiss as a promise at the entrance of your room, he excused himself, fading into the darkness of the halls.

You had not heard from anyone the whole day, the guilt of being useless chocking you up. As the years went by, your human ego grew – the want to be needed, of value. That desire was stemmed out from the root in every corner of your life. Even not by some nefarious will, it was made sure you well knew you were inconsequential. A mere extension of the Royal’s want, put on this soil to serve.

It was foolish of you to think this way, treacherous even. If your cavernous introspections were put under light, the repercussions would be grave. Yet with your youth abandoning you, it became harder to bury the thoughts deep inside.

What you wished for was of insignificance, your lord Father was not from a Great House and you were an insubstantial lady. it was the way things were, for you to await commands and oblige them. To refuse life’s pleasures and pledge yourself to duty. Nonetheless the thought never retired from your mind – was it so bad to want to be desired? To not reside in the shadows of your lords, be seen for who you were.

Your line of thought was ceased by a faint knock on the wooden door.

“Come in.” You stated uncovering your face below the pillows. If it weren’t for your status, annoyance would be laced in your tone.

A maid cracked open the door, timidly revealing half of her face. Her stare drenched in fear.

“The Prince expects a visit from you, my lady.”

A heartbeat stronger than the previous ones, you put all your power into concealing your emerging smile. No one could suspect of your unholy doings behind closed doors, even though Aemond seemed to think otherwise.

“Thank you.”

The maid excused herself and left.

Your fingers bunched the sheets beneath you, not being able to hide your happiness.

He was your Sun.

Traversing through the so known aisles of the Red Keep, you neared his room. A pep in your step, you could not contain yourself. Index finger knocking on the mahogany surface, you anticipated an answer.

Almost promptly, the wooden surface in front of you opened, an angelic sight welcoming you.

All the traces of malice he so proudly wore in public were gone. Adoration dancing in his light gaze, eyebrows relaxed and an endearing smile spread across his beautiful face. The sun shining behind his lean posture shaped a frame of light which reflected on his silver hair. Glow dazzling upon his features, the Prince made you weak.

You were unsure of how to proceed, which was unfamiliar to the both of you. It was you who used to hold and take care of him. Staying in your place unmoving, you marveled at the sight in front of you.

“You’re staring, my lady.” He humored in attempt to ease you, offering his hand.

You took his palm into your own and the Prince seized the opportunity. Gently lowering his head, attaching his soft lips to the knuckles of your elegant hands, one eye never leaving yours. He drew in a breath, as if to savor your flowery smell.

A giddy chuckle leaving your lips, you pushed him with a hand on his chest inside the room. Never leaving the hold of your palm, Aemond circled around, back hitting the now closed door. The Prince glued yourself to him. A now open smiled revealing his sharp canine teeth stared back at you, a sight which should’ve scared you. But In fact, it thrilled you.

His one eye jumping from your left to the other, he was a dangerous beast. One precise move and you were dead. Yet he held you so tenderly, as a fly in a spider’s web you were stuck. Stuck on his sweet touch and attentive care.

“Don’t play with fire” they said.

But who were you to deny its warmth, the one you’ve been denied your whole life. The Prince was a weakness, tailored to every single one of your insecurities. Though he never tugged on them, moreover it was his intent to get rid of them.

Your palm found its place on the right half of his face, thumb experimentally swiping at the end of his eye patch, following the lead of his scar downwards.

Shyness leaving you, wanting to show him it was still you who resided deep within. Getting on your tippy toes you enveloped your beloved into a sweet kiss.

Aemond clung to your hips, fingers digging into your tender flesh, pulling closer. As if reading an open book, understanding you, he let you take the lead.

Starting as a gentle embrace to show endearment, you grew hungrier. Pulling the Prince deeper into your hold, teasingly tugging at his lower lip. A depraved groan echoing in his chest, Aemond obliged. Fingers travelling to your more erogenous zones, further deepening the kiss.

Breaking the kiss for air, he planted his forehead against your own for support.

“I have a gift for you.” He promiscuously declared.

“You and your presents, my Aemond..” you giggled, remembering all of his offerings you received when you were younger.

 “..I missed them.” You truthfully replied.

“Follow me.” A wicked smirk on his face.

Your palm in his own, the Prince guided you to his bed. There lied a neatly folded piece of clothing, green of colour.

“It is yours.” Squeezing your palm, sweetness in his tone. A smile beaming down at you.

Words were past you, not needed to understand each other. Embracing him in one of your childhood hugs, he lowered to be at your level. Feeling his heart thump against your chest, you let a sigh against his ear.

“Thank you, my love.”

The hairs on his neck stood up, you were his poison. A man of few words, leaving chaste kisses on the side of your neck, he whispered.

“Taunting dragons is a reckless idea, my dear.” Callousness spilling from his words.

“Put it on.” He commanded. His, new to you, brashness now directed at you. It stirred something inside of you, where self-preservation should’ve called.

Detangling yourself from the man beside you, lowering down to unravel the piece of clothing. Feeling his burning stare on you, you knew he felt doubt. It was always that way with Aemond, insecurity was put out with impudence. The always lingering taste of rejection in his mouth, he cowered before the Gods hoping you would never leave him.

Neither of you brought it up, being two sides of the same coin, scared of sounding smothering. But the great pain of loss in your life that the other had left behind. It sat there, turning sour. The fear of abandonment would never take it’s leave.

Though he could not hide it anymore, the possessive side of him. You belonged to him, it was the only way he saw things. The first person to make him feel a man, you were attached to him for eternity. He would claw at you if needed, you could not leave, not again.

Staring at the back of your head, confidence dispersing with each second passing. He awaited an answer, did you approve of it?

Turning slowly, such sadness in your expression, you held the dress close to your heart.

“It is stunning.” A melancholic smile spread across your features.

It was a velvet gown. Of his colors. Forest green with an embroidered golden cleavage, the sleeves flared down to the ground. It was tight from the chest until the start of the thighs. A golden dragon sewed on the center, between where the breasts lied. It was revealing, you were never allowed to wear such things.

He was a clever one.

“I’m glad it suits your tastes.” An honest grin on his face, returning your previous proximity. Hand on your hip and the other below your breast, a daring move.

“Do you require help with getting into it.” More of a demand than of a question, you liked his assertiveness so you fed into it.

“What would I do without you my Prince? Of course.” A sly smirk looking back at him.

Aemond led you to the center of the room, where a big mirror was situated. It was beautiful, as everything in his room was. It had a golden frame with dragons dancing across it. He stayed behind you, chest covered with leather against your back.

You saw him in the reflection, hunger in his eye. He somehow darkened, something overtaking him.

“Your beauty belongs to me. Look at yourself.”

A hand travelling across your front, nestling on your stomach. Slow, deliberate motions against your already sensitive neck, he kissed. Sloppily this time, marking his territory.

The sun still resided in the sky, illuminating his intimidating posture in gold. You were drunk on him. A quiet moan left you and your lids fluttered.

“If anyone dares to look upon you, an eye would be the price.”

His control should’ve scared you, made you turn back and never return. It instead turned you on even more, you could never abandon your Aemond, you were forever etched in one in another. A sickening love which left you both gasping and needing more, every time. Satisfaction was not an option, if you could choose, your demise would be by his hands.

“Whatever you desire, my Prince.” You petted his hand which laid above your belly.

You knew what the placement meant and you wished for it.

Aemond slowly started unlacing the back of your dress, placing feverish kisses on every inch of newly exposed skin.

“Let me hear you, please.” The Prince pleaded.

You let your desire be known, sinful sounds flying away from you. Music to his ears, the Prince got more eager by the second. 

Now with your dress on the ground, he carefully removed your chemise.

Fully naked, his eye had grown wide behind you, marveling at the site in front him. Nervousness started to choke you, as if your beings were in complete tune he quickly noticed. Gently grasping both of your hands, putting them behind your back.

“The ability to look at you in this form, is a privilege I would not let anybody else possess.” Aemond whispered in your ear.

“God created your beauty only for my eyes to see.”

You turned to liquid in his hold, just one of his touches where you most needed him and you would be undone. A certain heat pooled in the low of your stomach. This was new to you, you never lied. The touch of a man was foreign, never desiring anyone in the past.

And Aemond seemed to be made for you, to tug to each of your strings and make you lose yourself in his abyss.

Kisses slowly trailed down your body, tending to ever single part. Feeling the heat radiating off him, he was completely pressed against you. The power imbalance of him being fully clothed and you bare, for him to take care however he pleased, it spurred you on. Sounds of pleasure encouraging him, he marked you all over.

Dark bruises painted the plane of your body, from your neck to the low of your stomach. He was now ingrained in your flesh, for everyone to see who you belonged to.

Crouching down, he got a hold behind your thighs, fingers digging dark marks below your butt. Feeling a hot breath on your sex you twisted beneath his touch. This was deliberate cruelty, the way predators played with their prey before killing them.

“Aemond, I beg.” Unholy prayers you uttered.

A devilish smirk painted his features, he never looked you in the eyes. Letting out a dark guttural chuckle. Unwillingly, you bucked his hips at him. A whine escaping past your lips.

“Patience is a virtue, my lady.” He whispered, so you could feel his breath against your tender parts.

Not being able to take it anymore, you got a hold of his silver head and pushed yourself against him. Feeling his lips now against your folds, your head fell backwards.

A satisfied groan left the dragon below you. With force he now repositioned both of you, making you sit on his face. One leg above his shoulder, you anchored yourself to him. An experimental lap against your folds, he nudged his nose against your clit. Never ending grunts from Aemond made you vibrate in pleasure.

He returned to your clit, giving it a sweet kiss before carefully tugging on it. Aemond was set on making you come undone just with his mouth. You unabashedly grinded against his hard face, trying to fuel your release. The space in his room was filled with your blissful noises, the only way he wanted it.

He attentively sucked on your pearl and gently bit from time to time. Your hands making a mess of his beautiful locks, juices dripping on his face.

“Aemond, I’m close.” A lustful statement.

Never leaving your heat, he loudly hummed against your clit as to encourage you. His eye never leaving yours, you could feel him in your bones. Shaking, you let go on top of his face, a loud moan gracing his ears.

The Prince’s face left your cunt but still hovered close, a smirk across his face, he licked his lips. Your arousal glistening on his angelic face. He appeared divine, as if his rightful place on this earth was between your legs.

The evidence of your euphoria stained the inside of your thighs and he climbed up your body with an intense hold. Towering over you once again,

“I reckon you enjoyed yourself.” His impure comment’s intent to shame you into submission.   

Though two could play this game, fervor existed within you as well.

Tender fingers pulling him in a sweet embrace by the collar, planting a lustful kiss on his mouth. Tasting yourself on his tongue, your palm moved to his rigid jaw, which clenched beneath your touch. Aemond’s air of confidence quickly began to disperse, unable to deny your forceful grip on his being.

Boldness engulfing your mind, you sucked on his lower lip and pushed your thigh between his legs. Feeling his aroused presence on the surface of your limb, you moaned into his mouth.

Too much for the Prince, he got a hold of your face and pulled back, panting.

“You’re not the only one allowed to play.” Annoyance hid behind your bite, face smushed beneath the touch of thumb on the hollow of your cheek.

“Is it your wish to be physically restrained?” A rhetorical question which got a lustful moan out of you.

Aemond placed a honey kiss on the corner of your mouth, caressing your neck.

“We have business to attend to, love.” He walked to the bed, leaving you wet with all kinds of substances all over your body in the middle of the room, shock clear on your face.

“Business?” His unpredictability started to make you uneasy,

“I said I had a present for you, did I not?” He walked back up to you slowly, taking your glistening frame in all its glory. He licked his lips.

“Up.”

You were beyond perplexed right now.

Holding your hands upright, the Prince carefully put the green gown down your body. Doing his best to touch you wherever possible. His hands lied on the small of your back, he dipped his head down to the crook of your neck, committing your scent to memory.

He turned you around so he could lace your dress, such tender touches contrasted his imposing presence.

“I’m yours to break, my Prince” Confidence in your voice, frankly tired of his gentleness.

As is something finally broke inside the beast, Aemond forcefully tugged on the lace, making your body thud against his.

Pushing your hair aside with his aquiline nose, biting on your earlobe and teasingly responding.

“Whatever you desire, my Princess.” A strong feeling ached your whole being, the complexity his address to you held. His wish for you to be his equal, to be joint below the gaze of the Gods and the faith, for you to bear his children. A wishful reality which could only exist in your shared dreams.

Aemond finished lacing your dress and placed a sweet peck to your cheek.

“Come in” The Prince called.

Puzzle in your gaze, he would not stop tripping you in every step.

An elderly man entered the room, white scruff dazzled on his chin. Fright written all over his gaze, he held what you figured were art supplies. The man had difficulty walking and limped inside the room. You dared not move, unaware of the dragon’s plans.

Had he heard everything? It seemed Aemond’s intention was for everyone to be aware of your entanglement.

“The lady will remain where she is, you may sit in front of her.” Aemond hissed as he sat on his chair, tail swinging in front of his legs as a lizard. His stare was stone cold, mouth a tight line, he calculated every move in the room.

Unaware of how to proceed, you sat on a stool which was situated next to the mirror behind you.

You were the focal point of the room, all attention drawn to you. Staying placed on top of a few pillows, slick and spit between your legs, marks all over your body, creeping up to your jaw. Sunshine illuminating one side of you.

Aemond wondered at you, with crossed legs and hands sprawled on the arm rests, he tested you. For a lack of a better word, fucking you with his eyes.

The older gentleman had spread his stand and paints out, with a shaking hand afraid to look you in the eye, imaginably by Aemond’s command.

“Shall we begin?” Your dragon snarled.

[greenlyren12]

A Gift

A hand travelling across your front, nestling on your stomach. Slow, deliberate motions against your already sensitive neck, he kissed. Sloppily this time, marking his territory.

The sun still resided in the sky, illuminating his intimidating posture in gold. You were drunk on him. A quiet moan left you and your lids fluttered.

“If anyone dares to look upon you, an eye would be the price.”

His control should’ve scared you, made you turn back and never return. It instead turned you on even more, you could never abandon your Aemond, you were forever etched in one in another. A sickening love which left you both gasping and needing more, every time. Satisfaction was not an option, if you could choose, your demise would be by his hands.

“Whatever you desire, my Prince.” You petted his hand which laid above your belly.

A snippet of tomorrow's chapter, which will be the longest of the bunch.

---

Chapter III is now up! Find it here.

[greenlyren12]

The Mask You Wear

Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Childhood friendship lost to time, will you still recognise the person you once knew behind the facade?

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

[greenlyren12]

The Mask You Wear

Chapter II

Find Chapter I here

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

warnings: smut, fingering, thigh riding, physical violence

word count: 3.1k

Summary: What type of feelings will your returning to King's landing bring out in you?

=================================

Where your Princess went you followed close behind, the strings of allegiance clinging to the flesh of your palms. 

Dragonstone had turned you into resilient woman, your fingertips as calloused as your character was. As if the waves had pummeled at your being instead at the shore cliffs. The romanticism of girlhood had departed from your soul years ago. Living transformed into existing, every month becoming grayer than the previous one.

Face swept by dragon fire and turned to cold stone. Experiences hardly moved you nowadays, violence bled into every corner of your lusterless life. You did what was expected of you, perform your duties and nothing more. Heart locked deep within, allowing no one the proximity of your intimacy.

Everything you cherished seemed to always slip from your grasp, so you cherished no more. Princess Rhaenyra the anchor of your existence. Her children you once cared for as if they were your own siblings, were now pushed away. As the oldest from the bunch, Jacaerys respected your wishes, whereas Luke had the difficulty to understand.

At first the stoicism you had ingrained in yourself by force wasn’t easy, but what was? Your once fond memories of your real family, little Aemond, had now faded. Little bits you remembered, pained you too greatly to be relived again.

Now standing behind your Princess, mind blank, you listened. As she was Informing her beloved children on the departure for King’s Landing, you felt a bolt in your heart.

You stilled, vigilant. Face an impenetrable wall but at your core you shook. The despised sorrow of feeling small filled your heart. As if immune to decision, you were flaunted around on a minute’s notice. Feeling like you were 13 again, fingers trembling, you stood silent.

Life had begun to feel normal again after years of endurance. Dragonstone was your home, now once again, you had to take your leave. The holes that the Red Keep had left in you, had been patched up with such precise care. A fortress now lied around your heart.  

You thought of how different things would be. Had it been years ago, you would’ve cowered in fear. Yet you remained quiet.

Aemond crossed your mind numerous times but you shoved it away. There were no possible reality in which you would allow yourself such feelings, after so many years. Only if you’d known that denying their existence was futile.

Anger poisoned your mind, caused by great fear of rejection. Could you face your Aemond?

==============================================================

The sail to the capital was troublesome. With each mile the weather seemed to worsen, grim clouds above your weary head. Situated on the bow of the ship, palms tied behind your back, you stared.  Children laughter echoed in your ears, longing in your eyes. The rhythmic waves, which rumbled below your feet, brought your thought to fond memories.

“How could I try to forget?”  Rang in your head.

A tear escaped your cold eyes and joined the mass of water below, forgotten.

The fear of what he was now seeped into your bones. Would he remember?

Doubt and salt made you sick, removing your gaze from the Castle in the horizon you faltered.

=================================

Being in your Princess’ chambers after such long time had the taste of nostalgia on your tongue. In contrast to Dragonstone’s cold colors, the Castle bristled with orange hues. Warm lights from lit candles, you took care of Rhaenyra’s moonlight locks.

Carefully putting each strand over the other, you exhaled. This task had become your favorite over the years, it helped you calm down your nerves. Being in such close proximity to the Princess gave you a piece of mind, though conversation always came to an end, due to your concentration. You enjoyed the quiet which you rarely had.

Now determination fueled your being, to not think about him. Putting all the care into fitting the Princess into her inky coloured dress.

Avoiding all eye contact, you attentively put a necklace around your Princess’ neck. Timidness was unlike you and she noticed.

“What’s the matter?” Giving you a crooked smile, Rhaenyra tenderly stroked your shoulder.  

“Nothing, my Princess.” Returning a forced one, eyes gluing to the ground below you once again.

Your Princess pushed no more, knowing you would not be honest.

=================================

Following behind your family, Rhaenyra and Daemon leading, you looked around the halls. The walls seemed to judge the change in you, they remained the same, unmoved.

With back straightened you entered the room last, King Viserys catching your eye first. Your King was rotting from the inside out, mask hiding the left side of his decaying face. He was brought in already in his chair, which was placed in the middle of the table.

Turning your head away to find your position, back facing the Royal family, you could feel it.

Taking your place by the wall, ready to assist your Princess, hands glued to your back, you gazed straight ahead.

He was clear in the corner of your eye. While everyone was busy with sitting on their places you found the bravery to look at him.

What was supposed to be a quick glance turned into a longing stare, your throat acting as a cage to your breath.

Your Prince sat right there, this was no little Aemond.

A man full grown, elongated face and sculpted jaw. Hair now twice the length it used to be, the strands which framed his handsome face kept in a knot behind. Eye concealed by a contrasting patch, lips formed a beckoning smile.

Violet eye already boring back at you, greed in his gaze. Jaw clenching, your Prince would not move. As if a sculpture carved out by the Gods themselves, he remained still, face illuminated by candles.

You felt naked, not in a dishonorable way for a lady of your position, but bare. Clean, as you came from your Mother’s womb. No walls and no shells remained unpenetrated by Aemond’s unwavering intent. Years spent to protect yourself, to constructing endless soul barricading layers. In spite of that, he now held you in the small of his palm, little and sincere.

The connection was too intense for you, especially during responsibility, so you broke the seal first.

Hard eyes set ahead of you, a shivering exhale left your lips. Seeing him in the edge of your eye, the devil had a smirk plastered across his enchanting features. He had bewitched you, in a trance you felt his pull to you.

He had grown a substantial amount, probably two heads above you. His childish clumsiness had transformed into an elegance that draped around his lean posture. The intensity you remember him containing deep inside was now plastered for all of Westeros to see. The hideous cut that used to slash trough the half of his face, now served as a menacing warning.

He was divine. A being closer to God, as the common folk said.

The next hour was spent in silent suffering, sweat breaking out on your forehead. It was clear your assistance would not be needed tonight, nevertheless your presence was obligated.

His Grace, the King moved you to tears with his speech. Peace was enjoyed for a few more blissful hours. Your heart fluttered at the sight in front of you. Tranquility quietly sat upon in the air, laughter accompanying it. The family you thought was shattered forever, seemed to succeed in being orderly.

Until a certain silver head decided to charge the air with tension. Jacaerys managed to put out Aegon’s assertions while Aemond’s one eye was on the mission to set your face on fire. But you dared not glance back, afraid of the repercussions.

Four servants entered the room with a roasted pig, decorated with goods served on a platter, and placed it in front of Aemond.

You knew it before it even began.

You felt the sweat between your limp fingers when they twitched with stress.

Luke laughed in the Prince’s direction and you shamed him in your mind for his lack of tact. You found it difficult to understand what humor the situation possessed. Giving the brunette boy a venomous look for disrespecting his uncle.

A hard slam on the wooden table made you jump in your place. Aemond was the focal point of attention. His hair swung forward, falling over the leather on his chest. Hunched over, fist firmly ingrained in the mahogany surface, eye clouded by malevolence. A predator seeking pray, Luke was a fool for tugging on his insecurities.

As if you were a rabbit in front of him, ready for him to swallow whole you froze in place.

“Final toast.” Aemond spat out.

It was the first time he honored the room with his voice. You shivered, velvet enlaced with callousness.

Though you could never possibly admit, you were proud of his speech. The kid you once knew, who came crying to you, was now grown and ready to defend. Never breaking the imposing image, cruel and precise he apparently managed to hit the right nerve in Jace.

The brunette hit first and Aemond’s reaction made something twist inside of you. Unwavering, piercing stare and a mocking laugh was all he graced Jacaerys with. As if to ridicule Rhaenyra’s oldest even more, he hit him off balance and made him fall.

If it weren’t for the years of practice you would not have been able to stifle your laugh. Yet Aemond had caught the glimpse in your eye, remembering it from all that time ago. He knew you from the inside out.

Daemon put the end to the conflict before it had escalated even more and Aemond took his leave.

=================================

After attending to the Princess’ nightly necessities, you were dismissed to your own chambers.

 Slowly crossing the Castle aisles, you took in everything around you. Comparing your memories to reality. A rare fondness set deep in you, allowing the ghost of a smile appear on your lips.

Until you heard the faint steps of someone behind you. Not too close but near enough for it to be intentional. You knew exactly who it was. Only one person in the Red Keep possessed that threatening intensity.

As if preying on you, he toyed. You could almost feel his wicked smile on the back of your neck.

You would enjoy yourself as well. Quickening your pace a bit, you strode in the dimly lit corridors.

“Hm.” A quiet, guttural sound was stated behind your back.

Something sick stirred your insides, shivers followed close. The amount of steps increasing behind you.

You wouldn’t dare turn your head, partially scared of what your eyes would see.

It excited you.

Stopping in front of your room’s doors you remained that way. A shadow following close behind, now right behind you.

A sigh escaped past your lips and in the drowning quietness it sounded as loud as bells.

Unsurely, you gradually turned on your hill to face your perpetrator.

A sinful smile plastered on his face followed by a half lidded probing eye welcomed you. The Prince studied you, trying to decipher the new persona you had put on.

“You’ve changed.” Silk out of his mouth.

“And you haven’t? My Prince.” A mischievous grin across your face.

“Don’t do that.” The man almost whined, gaze never leaving your lips. As if you pulled him by some otherworldly force, he came closer and had difficulty with constraint. A finger ghosted over your wrist.

“Careful, Aemond.” His name, honey leaking off your tongue for him.

He didn’t entertain you with an answer, just proceeded to intensify his already burning stare.

Granting his wish, you grasped him by the sleeve and pulled him inside your chambers. Now in the privacy provided by closed doors, only for the Gods to judge you, Aemond closed the space between you even more.

Not wanting to break, he allowed himself to put his hands below your elbows, gently holding you in place. Noses dancing in synchrony, inhaling each other, eye contact unbreakable, he spoke between the vulnerability of the two of you.

“Has there been anyone?” A firm whisper you swallowed.

“Only you.” Exhaling.

“It will always be you.”

A grunt from his chest escaped his throat. His palm climbed upward and spasmed on your skin when he registered your response.

“Please,” Desperation spilling from his gaze, which never left your mouth.

The softness you knew him by could be seen on his face now, a stark comparison to his escapades in the dining hall. The prince nudged your nose with his and marveled at you with fondness. As if you were a bird in his hard embrace, about to fly away any second.

The desire to trifle with him grew by the second. Cupping the side of his face, you positioned his lips by your cheek and you quietly said.

“Kiss me, Aemond”

The Prince planted his lips below your cheekbone with such sentiment you melted into his touch. Meeting his eye with a half lidded, lustful look you took a moment to take his beauty in.

“Kiss me.” Aemond almost childishly insisted. His hands gripped at your sleeves with whatever control remained in him.

You grabbed both sides of his face and planted a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. Your Prince granted you with a vexed look. You were getting to him.

All kind of courtesy had been thrown out the window now, his palm travelled up your arm and found its designated place. With a firm hold on your jaw, he angled your face upwards and enveloped your lips in a kiss. With his other arm he pressed your bodies even more, two fingers between your chin, he pulled away to look you dead in the eyes.

As if the start had been set or maybe it was the way you clung to him, he devoured you. Palm traversing to the base of your neck, forbidding distance. It was hungry, full of need. Teeth clunked and hands roamed. You found the back of his head and grabbed a fistful of silky hair, resulting in a moan from the man before you.

As if not by your own control you grinded against the leather of his pants. Lips never leaving yours, he clutched you by the hips and fixed you upon his thigh. Your moan was used as an entrance to go deeper into your mouth. Feeling a bite on your lip, you turned to liquid in his embrace. Pulling away for air, you gasped in each other’s faces, foreheads pressed together. You could not contain your adoration just for yourself anymore.

“You’re beautiful.” You muttered against his disheveled appearance.

Aemond growled and grabbed you below your ass, hands kneading at the flesh, mouth attacking below your ear. He started moving towards the cushions by your bed. Already drunk on his touch, every move made you squirm and whimper, which excited the beast who held you even more.

Your Prince gently placed you on top of a bunch of pillows. Continuing his attack on the front of your neck, sloppily marking you as his. Palm found the base of your breast and experimentally squeezed, followed by wanton moan from your mouth which rang in the air. Studying your reactions and committing everything to mind, every crevice and reaction. You were his treasure to explore.

Mouth travelling south, leaving sinful trails behind, Aemond paused and looked at you.

“Where did my nickname disappear, love?” He slyly remarked. Hands travelling below to bunch your skirts up.

“You think yourself little, my Prince?” You played his game.

Receiving a bite below your breast as an answer. Your hands clung to his hair, pulling and loving.

While Aemond took to tend to your other breast, twirling your nipple between slender fingers, he found himself under your chemise, pressing two digits against your core.

A lecherous moan fell from your mouth, lids closing.

“One would think you were excited to see me, my lady.” He huffed while bumping his knuckle against your clit.

“You’re already so excited.” Promiscuousness laced in his tone.

You were a tangled mess, huffing and breathing heavily, hands taped to his body, desperately trying to find friction.

“Please, Aemond.” You pleaded.

The Prince was close to receiving what he so desired.

“It is impolite to not use your words, my lady.”

You grabbed him by the collar around his neck and whispered into his mouth.

“Touch me, my Prince, it is unknown to you for how long I have desired this.” Kissing him hard as to prove your point.

It was all he needed.

“You will have to excuse me for the rudeness later, love” He plainly stated then proceeded to rip your dress open. Mouth latching to your already red nipples and giving it all the love it deserves.

He moved your undergarments aside and pressed a thumb to your pearl. All the moans and pleads which left your mouth spur him on more. Palm dug into your side, while he inserted a finger into you.

“I missed you so much” True sadness in his tone.

Finger pumped in and from your heat.

“And why is it you looked at me only once during dinner?”

His tongue travelled to the sensitive spot below your ear, sucking hard. Adding a second digit he continued massaging your clit.

No coherent thoughts were left inside your mind so an answer he did not receive. Feeling you clamp around his fingers, he pulled them out. A gasp of protest escaped you but you were quickly shut down. The digits which glistened with your arousal were now inside his mouth, savoring them.

“Sit up.” He commanded and you obliged your Prince.

He made you sit on his lap. Firm grasp on your hips held you down. His length prominent against your heat, you moved against him. Receiving a hiss, you perked up against Aemond even more.

“I want to watch you come undone on top of me,” Placing a hand on your chin making you look him in the eye. “..and for you to look me in the eye”

Anchoring on his slender shoulders, you started grinding against his thigh. Your mewls fusing with his grunts, he kissed you sloppily. It didn’t take you long to come close, so you latched off his mouth, cupped his cheek.

“I need you, my Aemond.” You puffed, out of breath.

You reached your peak and collapsed on top of him. Trying to catch your breath, you stroked silver strands which fell over his chest. Feeling whole again, as if life had color again.

“You will always have me.” Your Prince longfully expressed.

==============================================================

Taglist: @dudfahsn @jeyramarie @stillinracooncity @rapoficeandfire @poohxlove @bobamai1

[greenlyren12]

The Mask You Wear

Chapter I

Find Chapter II here

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

word count: 2.7k

Summary: Childhood friendship lost to time, will you still recognise the person you once knew behind the facade?

A/N: Hello,

This is Chapter I with more to come. I haven't exactly planned out how many there will be yet, but I'll see how this does and then decide. Sorry if there are any mistakes, english is not my mother tongue. This story is also posted on ao3, uner the same username.

Feedback and comments are greatly appreciated, I hope you enjoy :)

GR.

You were lingering behind your Princess who was vigorously striding across the corridors. As her utmost devoted lady-in-waiting, you were everlastingly situated by her side. Following behind her step, ready to see to whatever errand she had to attend to.

Princess Rhaenyra had always loved you as if you were one of her own. Having entered court at the tender age of 13, her Majesty promptly put you under her wing.

 Your duties were to tend to your Princess’ needs, whether it was to serve meals, clothe her or assist with baths. Your devout service belonged to her.

Thus, your Princess’ family became your own, yet it was a certain silver headed Prince who owned a piece of your heart.

It was rare you were able to see him due to your duties, but your encounters would remain with you long after their end.

Now he was scurrying through the Castle aisles, passing by you and your Princess. Pale face painted by tears, again. Your heart gnawed at you for seeing him this way, expression woeful.

It was no scarce occurrence for his cousins and brother to torment him. He was a frail boy in a cruel world and you were a little girl in his wicked Castle.

You had spent many moons ogling at the boy in pure, childish curiosity, as he would too.

The way you found each other was bittersweet. He was frightened of seeking refuge but you were more than willing to provide it. Prince Aemond was a year older than you, nonetheless you loomed a head above him.

-

The first time you spoke to each other was in these same corridors. Your Prince was hastily traversing the halls, attempting to conceal his distress. Even at the young age of 10 you had noted on his sad nature.

It was your responsibility to attend to your Royalty, however this was something else. It was your emotions which drove you, not duty.

“My Prince,” you swiftly breathed out.

Aemond stopped in his tracks.

“Could I perhaps be of any help?” you let it hang in the air.

The Prince unsurely turned around to face you. He held no desire for you to see him the way he was but he was no coward. His eyes were puffy, hair unruly. You gazed down at him.

“if it is in your capabilities to stop my cousins from being nasty, then in all your power you should do so. However, I don’t think it is, my lady.” he had a bite to his tongue.

You wouldn’t admit defeat so easily. The game he was played was well known to you. Shoving people away in the fear of being a burden. It was the same strategy you used.

“I think it is well in my capabilities to be your friend, my Prince.” A sweet smile formed on your face.

Shock was visible on the Prince’s face but quickly buried deep within. None except for his mother, would battle his bitterness with amiability. It sent a ripple through his body. Seeing his finger twitch, your two eyes bore into his violet orbs.

Aemond was unsure of how to proceed, focusing on the floor beneath his shoes, he let the silence envelop you both.

This was not encouraged, alas you couldn’t be less concerned in the moment. It was instinct calling, two small children seeking shelter in one another.

Your arm closed the gap between the two of you and hung in the air.

The Prince’s lilac gaze darted from your hand to your face. Uncertainty entangled between his fingers he grasped your palm.

Looking back down, shyly he replied.

“I would like that, my lady.”

-

The same wave of sorrow washed over you now, seeing his back to you. White hair locks dancing behind him, always in a hurry, in a hurry to hide himself. You would search for him later in the lush gardens of the Red Keep, where you recently had began to meet. After you had fulfilled your duties to your Princess.

================================================

You were seated in a secluded corner hidden by unkempt greenery, a book in your lap. A history book to be exact. The prince’s responsibilities never trailed off far behind him. it was your obligation to assist Aemond in any means possible. Moreover, if you were caught together you would have an excuse - studying.

The sound of faint steps neared and a head of white hair followed.

You flashed a smile at the Prince and he shared one if his own. Scooting over, you made space for Aemond to settle next to you.

“The afternoon is delightful, isn’t it my Prince?” you said grinning.

The time spent with your friend was the only enjoyment you got from life. You were able to be children together, to laugh and cry, free from impending responsibilities.

“It is splendid, my lady.” the boy beamed.

“What happened earlier today, little Aemond?”

It was the nickname you had for the Prince, despite his age you still towered over him. A name of those likes would usually make him feel insecure. However, you bore no ill will towards the boy, so he paid no mind.

“They said I would never have a dragon, they gave me a pig!” Aemond cried.

Averting his eyes, shame fell over him. You couldn’t bear it anymore.

Hands clasping around the boy’s face, you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you.

“You are Prince Aemond Targaryen, of House of the Dragon, face kissed by fire..” your thumb swiped over one of his freckles below his right eye, “..you will be a dragon rider.”

He had amusement written all over his features. Unexpectedly, for the both of you, the boy nuzzled his head into your shoulder. Your palms travelled down to his back and tugged at his green robe.

“..Thank you.” the Prince muttered, sound muffled by your hair. You felt a tear fall.

“Good things come to those who wait, my little Aemond.” you reassured him.

Both of you stayed in each other’s embrace for a while. Your maroon dress clashing against his viridescent attire.

Pulling back, Aemond hastily pecked where your cheekbone started and he now had the bravery to hold your gaze. A quiet giggle left your mouth in response.

“Should we get back to your studies, my Prince?” you asked while unfastening the belt over the book.

================================================

 You were busy, meticulously braiding Princess Rhaenyra’s white hair when there was a knock on the door. A maid hurriedly opened the chamber’s entrance and bowed.

Prince Aemond hesitantly entered the room and held something in his frail grasp, fingers fidgeting with it. You were taken aback by his courage, staring in awe.

The Prince’s mouth opened, then formed a tight line and finally gained the bravery to ask.

“Could I please give something to the lady, my Princess?” His stare sheepishly requested at Rhaenyra.

The woman gazed at the nervousness of both of you and let out a quiet laugh. Her locks starting to fall away from your fingers.

“My Prince-“

“Go, my dear.” Rhaenyra gave you a comforting look and a smile.

You stared at her, wide eyed.

“Thank you!” you squeezed around her neck and burrowed your face in her hair. The Princess let out a sweet chuckle and tried to embrace you back as much as her position allowed her to.

Quickly running off, you clutched Aemond’s hand and excused both of you out of the room. Now next to the door, staring at him with a gleaming smile, you were giddy.

In the darkness the halls of the Red Keep provided, he handed you something accompanied by a crooked smile. You got the item and turned it around, curiosity overtaking you.

“A book, my Prince? I could get one from the library.” You humored him.

Aemond’s face turned red and he hurried out a response

“Open it.” Hands clasped behind his back.

You unfolded the book and on the first page laid a herbarium of Clematis. The flower you most cherished in the gardens. Under the dried plant was the title of the book. Your favorite story, the one your mother always used to read to you when you were little.

Feeling tears prickling in your eyes, your let your head fall down.

Aemond’s expression quickly turned painful and in an attempt to understand what had turned sour he approached you.

Interrupting him, “I can’t express my gratitude, my Prince.” Followed by a bow.

The fact that you had to hide behind courtesies in the Castle hurt the boy, nonetheless he gave you a shy grin.

“But why, my Prince?” Genuine confusion in your tone.

Aemond shrugged, the smile never leaving his face, he honestly had no idea why he had done it either.

“As a thank you for being my friend.” He truthfully replied.

 The only love he had felt in his entire life was conditional, the always impending fear of being rejected. It was the prince’s wish to make you content, so you wouldn’t leave.

A devilish smirk crossed your face and you bit.

“I don’t require presents as payment for my friendship..little Aemond.” You whispered.

“Regardless, I am beyond thankful for your kindness, my Prince, I shall cherish this present forever.” You said conjuring up the kindest smile you could muster.

“You are always welcome, my lady.” The Prince said, bowing back to you.

================================================

The Royal family had went away to Driftmark to pay their respects to House Velaryon and to attend Laena Velaryon’s funeral. Hence your current location at the stormy island.

The air was stagnant, imminent doom loomed over the rocky shores. The sea shared the tenor of the island’s inhabitants. The atmosphere in the halls was charged with tension. Poisonous remarks kept being exchanged by family members. It seemed they were drifting apart more and more with each passing day.

The black and red in your wardrobe increased while your meetings with Aemond lessened.

It was the first time you had seen the Prince in many fortnites. His gaze ran away from your own every time you tried to smile at him. Regardless, whenever you turned your head away from him, you felt the intent of dejection sit upon your small shoulders. Two holes set ablaze in the flesh on the back of your neck.

His usual demeanor had darkened, if it were more possible.

The whole event left you feeling uneasy, the agony of losing a member of the family. Your Princess Rhaenyra looked distraught throughout the entirety of the day and the weather reflected the sentiment of your family. Dark clouds menacingly resided in the sky.

You spent most of the day alone. Everyone had greater things to take care of so you simply washed away in the eve.

You lied in bed, pondering in the dark.

“Was this the way things would be now?” You thought.

Seeing your family get lost in hatred. You were lonely, the friend you had in Aemond now seemed to be lost. Queen Alicent had advised her children against interacting with you, Jace and Luke. The corner in your heart which you had tucked away for him was now gone, a gaping hole left behind.

Starting to slip into a restless slumber you were awoken by a gut-wrenching scream.

You pulled over a dress in the quickest way your limbs allowed you to, while your feet scurried down the steps of the Castle fast as they could.

The altercation was occurring in the mass Hall.

The scene you witnessed left your mouth agape, poignant taste seeping out of it.

Queen Alicent stormed over your Princess, palms digging into her flesh. Rage in her eyes, and poison from her mouth. Staring downwards, you saw the blood which drizzled down Rhaenyra’s forearm onto the ground. Acting as physical evidence that this vicious act of violence was actually happening.

Where your eyes trailed next was a sight which you’d never forget.

Your little Aemond, sat upon a chair twice his size. A nasty gash splitting the diagonal of his fair face, impaling into his right eye. His glare, melancholic as always, drowned into the ground yet a proud smirk was stretched across his features.

You had never seen the boy in such light.

Everything became too much for you to bear. Focusing on the center of the room you stayed, trembling.

The following hours fused into an orange scene of screams and brutality. You stayed out your mind, as best as possible. If asked now, you couldn’t recall what exactly had happened.

When you seemed to regain control of your consciousness, you were laying in your chambers again. Breathes uneven, you were trying to regain composure.

The silence in your dark room seemed to have a presence of its own. It pushed onto your chest, the tears catching In your throat.

Even the moon hid itself tonight, with no light streaks flowing into your chambers.

The feeling of loneliness drowned you. You missed your Mother and your Father, and your little sister. Life itself had became one great chore, with all happiness ripped away from it.

With no Aemond in it.

A soft knock interrupted your train of thought.

If you possessed the privilege of choice, you weren’t sure if you would have opened the door.

Sitting on the bed, you tried to make yourself seem presentable. Flatting out the curves in your sleeping gown and putting your hair back, your little feet left the comfort of your bed and stepped on the cold stone ground. Tippy-toeing you got to the door and peeked it open.

One violet eye welcomed you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, opening the door wider you bowed.

“My Prince.”

“..Could I come in?” Aemond timidly asked.

Your stare bore a hole into his face, weighing your options, realizing you had only one – to obey your Prince.

Moving away from the entrance you let the boy come in.

Both of you stood still, darkness engulfing you, two eyes against one.

“I’m sorry.” He sorrowfully stated.

“Have I done something to offend you in the past, my Prince?” Your face dissolved into an expression he could not bear to look at.

As if passing the olive branch, Aemond closed the space between you two and embraced you. A yelp escaped your lips and you clung to him.

“My mother would not allow it.” He tugged at your back.

Of that much you were aware, nevertheless doubt had still poisoned your mind. Your insecurities had gotten the hold of you, maybe you were not enough.

“Who dared, my Prince?” You asked against his moonlight hair.

Pulling you back with hands never abandoning your shoulders, he held you in place.

“It does not matter, I may have lost an eye but I gained a dragon.” Aemond stated, trying to convince himself.

Numerous emotions danced across your face. He could see the smile forming on your face and the knot between your eyebrows in the dark.

“I told you, little Aemond” you whispered.

Pulling on his hand, both of you took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“How are you here, my Prince?” Confusion written all over your face.

“I am not.” A troublesome grin on his face.

The boy had seemingly become a master of escaping his chambers unnoticed. A talent he acquired early into his childhood.

“It is Vhagar.” Aemond excitedly shared with you.

A gasp escaped your lips.

“I told you!” You whispered a scream, with your hands fisting at your sides and a proud look on your face.

Fearful of causing him any pain, you stayed away from his face and clutched both of his hands in your own and shook with happiness. Your gaze never darting to his bad eye once.

It did not go unnoticed.

“Am I hard to look at?” Your name slipping out of his mouth in a mournful tone.

Where you would usually cup his right cheek you now gently stroked a piece of silver hair.  

“You are flawless, little Aemond.” A genuine smile reassuring him.

You had now began to braid a section of his white hair and the Prince leaned into your touch.

Aemond took it as an invitation to speak freely. While you tended to your Prince’s hair, he filled you in on what you had missed in his life.

Only the Gods knew this would be the last time you saw the Prince for years to come.

[greenlyren12]

I’m aware aemond targaryen is going to commit atrocities but have you considered he’s my babygirl

[greenlyren12]

Are you looking forward to S2? If so, what do you hope to see?!! ☺️

Hello, thank you for the question! ♥

Words can not describe my excitement. My fingers were tired from scrolling on twitter, waiting for updates from the bad batch panel at swcl. I basically lost my shit when the trailer dropped.

About what i want to see, i'm definitely biased, but I want more Crosshair. I have this bad feeling that he is going to get sidelined again but I really hope that's not the case. I want to see the conflict in him and his reasonings. How does he feel after leaving his family by choice? ALSO this isn't specifically about season 2 but if he does get redeemed (which I think we can all smell from a mile away) I really really hope they don't kill him off (this want partly stems from the need to keep my sanity intact) because that's such a cheap way out. He needs to right his wrongs, get the trust of his brothers and sister back. After Reva I do have hope, I think this is the way.

I WANT MORE ECHO! My little sweetheart has such an interesting back story, his character deserves more fleshing out. I want to see him mourn his brothers, think about Rex and his past. Also more Omega and Echo scenes, they make my life better.

The same goes for Tech but I'm almost certain we're getting it since we're getting dad Tech this fall.

For everything else I wish they'd keep the same, season 1 had great world building and guest characters. I personally don't mind "filler" episodes, I even enjoy them. Stories need slowing down to have an impact.

Overall, I'm sure we're getting an amazing season 2, compared to the other shows tbb has got an amazing starter season.

GR

[greenlyren12]

now THIS is podracing

(a lil painting inspired by @lesbianahsokatano‘s fic from the Legacies Entwined zine, thank you for the ahsoka visits tatooine brainrot 💖)

BONUS:

[greenlyren12]

will i ever stop drawing them in this exact pose from this exact angle? no, no i don't think so 🤡

[greenlyren12]

im still working on figuring how everything works here but if you have any tbb requests please feel free to ask! Im new to this and kinda nervous so if you wanna see something particular id be glad to write it :)

[greenlyren12]

He got a hundred times hotter when his life fell apart

[greenlyren12]

day one of trying not to think about fucking that old man