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i forced my bestie @riverwood201 to draw cregan

and she did such a good job i luv her sm ‹𝟹

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They called him 'Breakbones'

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So.... you're telling me that all these white haired guys, Daemon, Aegon, Aemond all have a pathological attachment to their moms?

The clear winner here is Jace.

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Loving this for Alicent, that she got undermined at the small council meeting with all men around her rallying for Aemond (except for the maester).

NOW she knows what Rhaenyra has felt all her life.

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house of the dragon 2.01 // 2.03

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I hope there is some part of Aemond that realises that his biggest bully was never Lucerys or Jacaerys. It was his own brother Aegon.

After the scene at the brothel, surely a part of Aemond must realise that Jace and Luke were little boys acting at the behest of their oldest uncle, Aegon, when it came to all the childhood teasing and bullying?

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“Poor Helaena…to lose a child like that”

“Poor Aegon…a father’s rage is justified”

Not hearing a whole lot of poor Rhaenyra who lost her father, her son, her throne and her unborn daughter in a short span of time.

According to TG stans, a child’s death is absolutely horrible (unless it’s Rhaenyra’s. If it’s Rhaenyra’s child, it’s fun, let’s celebrate).

I fail to see why Helaena’s grief is more important than Rhaenyra’s. She lost one son, said “bye bye world” and shut down (and I don’t see anyone pointing fingers at her and calling her useless in this war even though she was. She had a dragon she could use, but chose to remain locked up in her room and in depression).

Rhaenyra lost a whole lot more, and she had to stay on her feet and fight to take back what rightfully belongs to her.

Why is Jaehaerys’ death more tragic than Lucerys’?

Lucerys was murdered in cold blood, just like that boy of Helaena’s who’s barely relevant throughout the whole story.

Lucerys was a boy too.

Now there’s the question of who shed first blood.

The Greens did.

Actions call for reactions, and this is war.

Daemon wanted Aegon the Usurper to lose a son, just like the Greens forced Rhaenyra to suffer the loss of one of her own. He called for retribution. A life for a life. He could have arranged to have everyone in that tower killed that night. He could have demanded Aegon’s daughter, Jaehaera, be killed in exchange for the life of the daughter the Greens made him lose (Visenya). But he didn’t.

I’ve seen comments cheering on Aegon for wanting vengeance for his dead son, but apparently Rhaenyra is not allowed to demand retribution for the death of hers.

Misogyny runs high in the 21st century, doesn’t it? A woman who is not perfect is a monster, and a man with vices is just “misunderstood”.

And then you all have the nerve to point fingers at people who don’t care about the consequences of B&C. No, I don’t care that Aegon’s child is going to be murdered. Because I didn’t see that sympathy from stans when Lucerys was murdered. All I saw were jokes made at a child ripped apart by the biggest and most dangerous dragon alive because her rider is a twisted one-eyed psychopath.

The Blacks are entitled to vengeance.

Lucerys’ death is on Aemond’s head. And so is Jaehaerys’. He’s 100% responsible. If anyone is to blame for B&C, it’s Aemond the Kinslayer.

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House of the Dragon 2.01 x 2.02

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HOUSE OF THE DRAGON 02.02

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House of the Dragon 1.10 "The Black Queen" | 2.02 "Rhaenyra the Cruel"

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Luke is the Princess Diana of Westeros

FROM NOW ON I WANT LUKE BEING MENTION IN EVERY EPISODE...

Like keep hunting the narrative, boy

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Will you continue writing missing?

Yep

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This page is now OPEN for House of The Dragon fic requests/prompts

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TARGARYENS + Wearing Symbols Of Their Dragons  ⤷ The details on Daemon’s Captain of the Guard armor

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Solace (Aegon Targaryen x Reader x Aemond Targaryen)

While you are struggling at keeping your family together in the midst of the Dance of the Dragons, you find comfort in an unexpected person.

Warnings: Angst. Smut. Infidelity. Alcoholism.

The tips of your fingers idly traced the rim of your crystal goblet, your eyes fixed upon the moon that had risen high to crown the night sky. While the realm was plunged into the horrors of war, the stars twinkled merrily as far as your eyes could see.

The struggle for the control of the Seven Kingdoms between Rhaenyra and Aegon Targaryen had taken its toll on you as well. A quick glance into the mirrored glass was enough to confirm that you weren't the lively, bright girl who had married into the Targaryen family, your marriage to Prince Aemond Targaryen elevating the status of your father's house from nobility to royal adjacent.

You were no longer the daughter of the Master of Coin of King Viserys' Small Council. Now, you were the daughter-in-law of King Viserys and Queen Alicent Hightower. The King himself had passed a decree on the day of your wedding to Prince Aemond, conferring the title of Princess upon you. What a joyous occasion it had been. Ten days of festivities, feasts and tourneys to celebrate the new royal couple, followed by a blissful period of a few years where you had been blessed with a son, Aenys, followed by a daughter, Alaenna. Inheriting their father's silvery-blonde mane and your eyes, the children were beloved by everyone. Aemond could scarcely let go of the children, never letting them out of his sight.

The King and Queen loved your children as much as you did.

You could remember how easily your children had bonded with the children of Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena. It was a riot of giggles and squeals whenever Jaehaerys, Jaehaera and Maelor played with your Aenys and Alaenna.

For a while, you had all been a happy family.

Then King Viserys passed away. And the war for the succession of the throne broke out.

Aegon was crowned as King, Helaena became his Queen, while on the other side of the sea, Princess Rhaenyra declared herself as the One True Queen, wearing the late King Viserys' crown at Dragonstone, her stronghold.

What followed was absolute terror.

After the death of Prince Lucerys at the hands of your husband and his dragon, the Blacks exacted their revenge upon your family with the murder of little Prince Jaehaerys.

The incident tore the family apart, with your sister-in-law sinking into grief, refusing to eat or bathe or even look at her remaining children. As much as Queen Mother Alicent and you attempted to try to reach out to Helaena, it was futile. The death of her son haunted her, night and day.

Just as Aemond was wracked with the guilt of Lucerys' death.

"It was an accident!" Your husband had told you once in the dead of the night. "I hadn't meant to kill him. I only wanted to scare him."

Despite trying your best to keep your marriage intact, you could feel your husband growing distant from you. You were occupied with helping the Hand and the Queen Mother rule the realm through King Aegon's council and giving Jaehaera and Maelor the same love you bestowed upon your own children, now that Helaena was fighting her own battles with despair.

Aemond chose to lead the Greens and the Houses sworn to Aegon's cause in the field with Daeron. While you tried to keep peace in King's Landing, your husband led armies against Queen Rhaenyra's faction.

It was during this time that you began to hear rumours. Whether it was from your handmaidens or from the Master of Whisperers himself, the information contained in the secret messages was consistent:

Prince Aemond Targaryen had taken a base-born witch to his bed at Harrenhal. A woman named Alys Rivers.

These rumours persisted and despite your best intentions, they crept under your skin, causing you to turn to the one thing that kept you somewhat sane.

It had started with just a cup of light, sweet wine to help you sleep easier. Gradually, as the days passed and your inability to sleep grew, you began to indulge yourself in stronger spirits. From Lyseni wines to Tyroshi brandy, you eventually found yourself consuming far too much Dornish strongwine.

Just something to dull the pain you felt in your heart every time you thought about your husband's adultery. About how you had been the ever dutiful wife, giving him love, respect and honour, surrendering your mind, body and soul to him. Accepting him unflinchingly, despite how scared the women in court were of his scarred face. Giving him two beautiful children.

All for him to spit in your face with the dark haired whore in his bed.

It angered you, filled your blood with a rage so immense that it was only surpassed by the sadness you felt at his betrayal.

Lips twisting into a pained smile, you poured yourself another cup of the strongwine.

Just as a quiet knock came on the door.

"Come," you responded, knowing full well who was most likely to visit you at this late hour of the night.

Eyes fixed upon the stars dotting the sky, you raised your cup to your lips, drinking down a healthy sip of the strongwine, relishing the pleasant flush it left in its wake as it went down your throat.

"Gods, in a few days you will be drinking more than I do in a day." Aegon Targaryen's jesting tone made your lips twitch in amusement and you turned away from the sky to watch him take a seat beside you, pouring himself a cup of wine as well.

The two of you drank in silence for a while, before Aegon quietly spoke a sentence that left you devastated completely.

"Alys Rivers is with child."

A simple string of words that felt like a blade had been pushed in between your ribs. Closing your eyes tightly— as if to shield yourself from the pain— you breathed deeply.

"Are you certain?" Your voice was quiet and resolutely calm.

"Yes. Larys Strong confirmed it."

Turning back to the view of King's Landing in the night, you tried to calm the thundering beats of your heart. Aemond Targaryen, your husband, had fathered a bastard. With Alys Rivers. Another bastard.

"Do you think he will cast me aside?"

Aegon looked at you, his lilac eyes showing outrage. "Of course not! You are his wife, the mother of his children. He… He's always been a twat but I don't think he's foolish enough to let you go."

You fought against the brimming tears in your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "I wonder how Helaena coped with your multiple bastards running through the Street of Silk."

A sigh came from the man beside you. "Helaena always knew that my marriage to her was one of duty. Not love. It was a plot hatched by my grandfather and my mother. Once the children were born and my mother was assured of my line of succession, my marriage was effectively over."

You looked at him, seeing the strain of the years, the war, in his eyes. "Having children with Helaena was an obligation because mother wanted our 'pure blood' sitting on the Iron Throne. The bastards I fathered on the whores on the Street of Silk were born out of passion."

"Is this why you began drinking so heavily?" you queried.

"I drink to endure the burden that has been on my shoulders ever since I was born. First, it was the burden of being the King's firstborn son. Second was the marriage arranged between Helaena and me. And now, I endure the strain of being the usurper of the Iron Throne," Aegon sighed, helping himself to more wine.

Closing your eyes once more, you leaned back against the armchair. "I wonder if I was Aemond's duty as well," you mused.

"Nonsense. He loves you. He loves the children. But, as I've already said before, he can be a twat," Aegon said and even though your eyes were closed, you could feel him wave a dismissive hand in the air. "Have you eaten anything?"

Eyes shooting open, you stared at Aegon. Having been very much used to the public facade of an obnoxious, uncaring man who never missed an opportunity to make an unsavoury quip at anyone, it was this Aegon, who was thoughtful and attentive enough to ask you if you'd eaten well or slept enough that always took you by surprise.

"What?" He grinned, raising his wine cup to take a sip. "I can't ask after the well-being of my sister-in-law?"

You smirked. "Is that all I am to you? Your sister-in-law?"

The silence that followed your questioning was ended by his hand reaching across the table and finding yours. "You know you're not. You know you're more than that," Aegon Targaryen said, lacing his fingers through yours. "If my mother had had the sense to marry Helaena off to Jacaerys and nip this war right in the bud, you would have been my wife. Mine. Not Aemond's," Aegon said, pulling you up from your seat towards him, rising to his own feet to stand behind you. "Mine."

His nimble fingers unlaced your robe, pushing it off your shoulders before helping you discard the silk shift you wore under it.

Undoing your hair to let it fall free down your back, you walked over to your bed, lying down on it. Waiting and watching as Aegon barred the door before undressing himself. You could see the hunger in his darkening violet eyes as they took in your unclothed body.

"If you had been my wife, right from the very beginning, I would have been so good to you," he said, crawling into your bed to pull you into a kiss. "My only children would be the ones that would come from your womb," he breathed against your lips, his free hand resting on your belly briefly before slipping lower. You broke away from his kiss to fall back against the pillows when his fingers slid into you.

"Fuck. Even after all this time I've been in your bed, how are you still so tight?"

His words brought a whine from your lips, just as his fingers curled inside you, coaxing a fresh gush of arousal from you. A while after the war began, the Greens took Harrenhal, and the rumours of your husband's adultery reached your ears. That is when you found yourself drinking with Aegon. The wine filled nights, however, turned into something more.

"Aegon," you moaned. It was like his touch thawed the ice Aemond had left in your heart with his infidelity. With each wicked curve of Aegon's fingers in you, you felt yourself melt.

"There she is," he smiled deviously, placing warm, open-mouthed kisses against your neck, never lingering on a spot long enough to mark your skin. Your trysts were always to be a secret. "There's my Princess."

Hips bucking to meet his plunging fingers, a flush crept into your cheeks as he kissed a path down your body, lips closing around your pebbled nipple. Hissing at the onslaught of his tongue laving repeatedly over the sensitive nub, you threaded your fingers into his hair, clipped just below his chin and curled. So different from Aemond's long and straight hair.

"Do you think they know?" Your voice trembled, barely audible over the wet squelch of his fingers against your velvety walls. "Do you think they know if this? Of us?"

Aegon growled, turning to attend to your other, neglected breast. "Arryk knows. He guards me round the clock, after all. Mother has her suspicions, but I don't care. I've finally found the peace I forever longed for in your arms. And above all, I'm the King. They'll have to obey me, no matter what."

"Please, Aegon," you begged so sweetly. "I need you inside me."

"Not just yet," he taunted, shifting lower still, a glint in his eyes seeing how obediently you spread your legs for him, his lips sucking at the soft skin of your inner thigh.

It was when he dove into your cunt that you cried out, so mesmerized by his tongue violating you without mercy. His plush lips formed a heated seal around his plundering tongue and through your blurred vision, you could see his jaw working as he drank from you.

His hands caressed your trembling thighs, smoothing over your hips to find your waist, using his hold to keep you from squirming away.

The silvery mass of his curls almost glowed in the moonlight, his contented moan reverberating against your core when liquid heat seeped from you to his waiting mouth.

Pleasure built in you steadily, your breaths turning laboured, your voice breaking while you called his name.

He pulled away from you with a groan, full lips shining with copious amounts of your slick. "You have the King of the Seven Kingdoms kneeling between your legs, my Princess," he licked his lips. "To want another man is not worth your while."

Returning to his place, he began to sink his tongue shallowly into your opening, grinning against you at how your walls fluttered at the intrusion. Ecstasy bloomed like dragonfire through your blood, your hands clutching at his hair, trying to draw him closer, deeper.

"Oh, Gods, Aegon…"

He obeyed, burying his tongue completely in you, curling it inside you in a way that felt so filthy and so incredibly addictive. His nose nudged into the sensitive nub between your dripping folds as he ate at you. Teetering upon the very brink of oblivion, you so desperately wanted to give in. But you wanted more.

Wanted him.

"Aegon, please," you whimpered. "Fuck me…"

Mindless with want, you tugged at his hair, his shoulders, until he was at your lips. Cupping his jaw, you kissed him, the taste of his tongue a heady amalgamation of strongwine, him and you. Moaning into his mouth when the roaring pleasure simmered and ebbed away from the sudden withdrawal of his ministrations, your hand reached for his cock. He felt heavy and thick in your palm, throbbing with need.

You stroked him, spreading the pearly evidence of his desire over the tip with a deft thumb. His breath was hot against your cheek. "I'm sorry, I simply lose myself in how your body sings for me," he said, not sounding apologetic in the least.

Biting down on your lip, you guided him into you, the both of you moaning in unison when he sank all the way in.

"Gods be good," Aegon groaned into your neck. "You feel like heaven."

Rolling his hips into yours, he began an unhurried rhythm, the two of you savouring the act.

A daze swept over you, aided by the wine that still lingered on your tongue and the utterly captivating way in which he claimed you, his cock splitting you into two in the most delicious way possible.

After all of his experience, Aegon Targaryen knew how to please a woman and each time with him felt like he was proving to you his reputation.

He always, always, put your pleasure first. He took pride in the way you quivered in his arms, a smile tugging at his lips as he felt you constricting around him, pulling him deeper into you.

"I wonder how my brother would feel if he were to walk in through the door and find me fucking his beautiful wife," he breathed into your ear, his words more unholy than any profanity, sparking something inside you that made your back arch.

"Oh, there we are." His tone was mocking, his thrusts quickening at how tightly you clenched around him. "My Princess would like that, hm?"

The answering moan that you let out was unrecognisable to your own ears, you were that far gone, mind solely focused on the way his cock was battering against your walls. He reached the most sensitive places nestled deep in your walls, his words finding the darkest, most sacrilegious thoughts you had hidden even from yourself.

A hand cupped your jaw, pressing at your cheeks until your swollen lips puckered.

"Perhaps, I should fuck you well. Until my seed takes in your womb," he whispered. "Wouldn't you like that? If Aemond can fool around fathering bastards on a common whore, wouldn't you like to carry a King's babe?"

Letting out a whimper, you drew him closer, wrapping your legs around him to pull him in deeper. "It'd be our secret," you gasped, so close to the very edge.

"While Aemond the twat will believe that the child is his, in truth, the child and you will both be mine," Aegon whispered into your ear, causing you to seize around him, moaning as waves of euphoria coursed through you.

Aegon followed suit, giving in to the enticing clutches of your walls and spilling his seed deep inside your womb with a groan.

The two of you lay in comfortable silence, intertwined in each others arms: his fingers running through your tousled hair while you placed soft kisses against his shoulder. This was the only time during the day where you were able to find some solace in the madness around you.

"Don't send for moon tea on the morrow," you murmured.

Aegon looked at your, his violet eyes wide with surprise. "I only said that in the heat of the moment- You don't have to-"

"I want to. Atleast I want to try." You ran your fingertips across his cheekbones.

"You've given me comfort when I most needed it. If the Gods bless me with your child, I'd be happy to carry it."

His eyes seemed to glisten with tears as he looked at you. "Does that mean that you love me?"

You smiled freely —for the first time in a long time—pressing you forehead against his.

"You imbecile."

Authors note: What did you think of this? Should I expand it into multi chapter?