#A King Gazing at the Sea

[pierppasolini]

Le roi qui contemplait la mer (2022) // dir. Jean-Sébastien Chauvin

[hellenhighwater]

This is on display for ArtPrize in Grand Rapids, MI! It's at the Atrium by Uccello's; please vote for it if you're able to visit! https://www.artprize.org/entries#59851

Icarus: The Sun, The Sky, The Sea.

[yuujispinkhair]

Boxer!Sukuna headcanons

Inspired by this lovely ask. Thank you so much for sending me that and making me lose my mind over Boxer!Sukuna.

Pairing: Boxer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, modern AU, smut, squirting. Mentions of boxing injuries, biting, blood. I know that boxers usually wear a groin protector, but I chose to ignore this for this AU because I wanted to write a sexy detail lol. Sukuna + Reader are in a relationship. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who always wants you by his side backstage until it's time for him to enter the arena. You are his good luck charm and the only one who is allowed to wrap the bandages around his hands before he slips into his gloves. Not that he needs any luck with the skills he has, but he loves seeing you press your sweet kisses on his boxing gloves and smile at him before you hug him tightly and tell him to please be careful.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gets a warm feeling in his heart when he sees how worried you always are. Much more nervous before his fights than he is. But he always reassures you, wrapping his muscular tattooed arms tightly around you and hugging you to his firm body while he tells you, "Don't worry, princess. You know I never lose."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who smiles while you help him get dressed before a fight, helping him slip into the white silk kimono he wears for his ring entrance show. He can clear his mind the best when he feels your gentle hands caressing over his broad back.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gives you his most charming smile before he grabs your chin and asks you for a good luck kiss, not just on his boxing gloves but also on his lips.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who always tells you he loves you before he leaves the backstage area. And hearing your "I love you, too" in return gives him another surge of motivation.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose ring-entrance show always makes the crowd go wild. The whole arena is bathed in blood-red light. A picture of an ancient shrine in a sea of blood gets projected onto the large screens. Dramatic classical music starts playing as a huge throne of skulls emerges from the fog, with Sukuna lounging casually on it, his head resting on the back of his hand. He's wearing the snow-white kimono and a crown on his pink hair, presenting himself as The King of Curses, which is his stage name.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose stage name fits him perfectly. One look at him and his powerful body and that dangerous and ambitious glint in his eyes, and everyone knows this guy is truly a King in the boxing ring.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gracefully walks towards the ring with an arrogant look on his tattooed face, only accompanied by his assistant Uraume, who walks a few steps behind him as if they are a loyal shrine servant who follows their master obediently. They take off Sukuna's kimono for him and bow respectfully while the crowd cheers loudly.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks intimidating but beautiful as he stands there with a posture like a God while the white silk slips off his broad shoulders and reveals all the firm muscles and the sexy tattoos on his tall, athletic body.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who drops his serious act the moment he climbs into the ring and instead smirks his most charming smirk and lifts a hand to casually wave at his fans, letting them celebrate him as if he already won.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose last glance before every match belongs to you, though. As much as he enjoys the attention and worship from his fans, he always loves your gaze on him the most. You are the one who grounds him before a fight, the one who gives him the strength and the right mindset to lead him to victory.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose maroon eyes look directly into yours while he kisses his boxing gloves, at the same spot where your lips left their kisses a few minutes ago backstage. And right before he turns around to face the referee and his opponent, he winks at you and mouths, "I'll win this fight for you, baby".

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who already mocks his opponent before the fight even starts. Smiling tauntingly at him and asking him if he is scared. "You know, you can still run, little boy."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks so sexy during his fights. All of his attacks are powerful and well-planned. He moves gracefully through the ring, like a big cat on the prowl, beautiful and deadly. Everyone can see that he isn't someone who just relies on his brute strength. Sukuna is intelligent, and he uses his mind to win his fights.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who is both hated and loved by the judges. They hate how cocky he is but admire his skills and respect him for how well-prepared he is for his matches.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who wins most of his fights with a knockout, laughing triumphantly when the referee counts down the seconds.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who only loses fights when he gets disqualified for committing a foul. Sometimes, he bites his opponents, drawing blood with his sharp teeth and laughing as he licks the blood off his lips. You know that this is also part of Sukuna's strategy. He is too controlled to let himself get carried away during a fight, but he loves the reputation those bloody attacks give him, basking in the fear he sees in his opponents' eyes when he whispers to them before a fight, "Did you see the guy I bit last month? Let's see how your blood tastes on my tongue."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who is brilliant at blocking punches but also cannot be stopped if he gets hit. You used to be worried sick when you saw him receiving blows to the head until Sukuna reassured you that he is allowing it on purpose. It's all for the show. And sometimes, because he craves the pain since, it will spur him on even more.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who laughs after every punch his opponent lands, smirking cat-like as he licks the blood off his cracked lip, and his wild maroon eyes glitter amusedly at the other guy: "Aww, was that all you can do, brat? Gimme more, come on! Punch me! Make me bleed for real, you coward!"

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks so sexy with his tattooed skin all sweaty, every muscle in his tall, strong body taut. His veins standing out, and his broad chest rising and sinking as he breathes deeply. The outline of his long, thick cock visible through his dark red boxing shorts, making you want him so much.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who wears a sexy smirk on his beautiful tattooed face when he gets declared winner. He looks deeply into your eyes when the referee yanks his hand into the air to signal his win. This first moment is always for you alone, mesmerizing maroon eyes silently telling you that Sukuna dedicates this win to you.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who then punches his fist into the air and does a little round in the ring to let the crowd celebrate him like the King that he is. He is a professional, giving his fans what they crave, even while he craves something very different at that moment after a match.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who expects you to wait for him in his private locker room backstage, naked and wet, with your legs spread, ready to get taken by him.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who takes you rough and hard. He needs to fuck you to come down again after being so pumped up during his fight. His tall, muscular body is still dripping with sweat, smelling so sexy, a mix of sweat and musk and his expensive cologne. His breath is loud and harsh in your ear, turning into low, hoarse groans as he pounds your cunt with his cock and his heavy balls, just like he pounded his opponent with his fists.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who rubs your swollen clit firmly and whispers dirty things in your ear, making sure you give him your everything and squirt all over him when you cum on his fat cock.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who coos at you and calls you his good girl, his love, as he chases his own orgasm, finally allowing himself to let go, fucking you with hard erratic thrusts, his face buried in your neck, moaning loudly until he captures your lips in a heated kiss when he shoots his hot cum into your cunt.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who cuddles you afterward, pressing himself tightly against you while he is still buried balls-deep inside you, resting his forehead against yours and thanking you for being his lucky charm and the one who gives him strength. He stays like that, pressing you down with his heavy body, kissing you tenderly until his breathing finally calms down and the sweat on his body begins to dry.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who picks you up and murmurs to you, "Hold on to me, princess," before he carries you to the shower, not letting go of you even for a second, needing his princess on his cock and in his arms.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who showers with you and lets you wash him, sighing when you massage shower gel into his taut muscles, caressing him, and cleaning him, easing the tension in his body.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who returns the favor and lets his large, calloused hands wander gently over your naked and soaped-up body while he kisses you nonstop. Who caresses another orgasm out of you while you stroke his long thick cock slowly, making him spill his seed all over your hand.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who isn't the famous boxer, The King of Curses, anymore, when he is here under the shower with you. Here he is just Sukuna, your fiancé, who is joking around with you, all playful again, grinning that sexy grin and kissing you so sweetly, whispering against your skin how much you mean to him, and asking you where you want to have a late dinner tonight.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who fucks you once more, this time against the shower wall with your legs wrapped tightly around his hips and your hands in his pink hair. But this time, it is slow, sensual lovemaking. Slow, deep thrusts and tender French kisses until you both find completion at the same time and moan into each other's mouth. The perfect finish for a successful match.

HE IS SO SEXY 😭😭 I didn't know I would write so much for Boxer!Sukuna, but I enjoyed it so much to think of his dramatic ring-entrance show and the way he boxes, etc. I hope you enjoyed it too!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x Female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Fluffy, Aemond finally makes a friend, characters will be aged up next chapter, reader is from a made-up house

AN: This is my first time writing for HOTD and I'm excited and terrified to share this story with you. I've had this idea in my head for so long and decided to finally get it out. Hope you enjoy xx

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

~~

He was used to playing for second best.

In his short life he became used to disinterested gazes, murmurs of his supposed cold heart and fits of rage, avoidant steps when he passed, the curse he possessed as the scarred second son. 

But never from her.

She looked at him as though he put the stars in the sky. She looked at him as if he was the reason the sky bloomed with breathtaking colors in the early morning.

He felt himself unworthy of her attention and affection, something she was aware of, and she would hold him and tell him all the love she gave him was very much deserved.

It was a sentiment he always had trouble not disputing instantly. 

She made his miserable heart full. 

Aemond couldn’t believe his luck himself for the sun that entered his world and brightened his life. 

He never believed he was worthy of her love. 

And she spent her entire life trying to prove him wrong.

~~

It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.

A day Aemond was dreading. 

It wasn’t often their family made trips away from King’s Landing. His father was King and most visitors made the effort to come to the Capitol and spare them the effort of a visit, but a sudden trip had their entire family uproot their usual routine and he found himself hating every moment of it. 

Being dragonless, he was left to endure the crashing waves of the sea that made his stomach turn. 

“This place is disgusting.��� Aegon said the moment they landed on solid ground. 

“Aegon.” His mother admonished with a steady glare. “The Ixtal Islands are a beautiful place and they’re home to one of the most powerful houses in the seven kingdoms. You would do well to show them some respect.”

“Not like they’ll offer me anything of importance.” He muttered bitterly. Rumors had spread of his mother and father’s desire to wed him to his sister Heleana, his future already planned for him.

His mood was immediately soured at the realization that none of the beauties he saw on the Island shore were his intended, but that wouldn’t stop him from having his fun. 

“Why are we even here?” Aegon whined immaturely, making his mother suppress yet another eye roll in response.

“The Lord of Ixtal is an old friend of your father.”

“I still don’t understand why that demands my presence here.” Aegon rolled his eyes.

“Our council is in need of a new Master of Coin and your father is considering his dear friend. We are here for negotiations and our family is nothing if not loyal. Your father, our King, needs us.” Alicent answered shortly. 

Aemond was excited to finally see the Island he had read so much about. He knew their history, their riches and goods they traded with the entirety of the realm. The Ixtal Islands were the most plentiful and prosperous house in the realm and he was in awe to see his readings come to life before him.

It was the socialization he dreaded. 

Nobles would look at Aegon with respect, respect he didn’t deserve even being the first born son of the King. Helaena would be regarded with reverence, a comparison to the Realm’s Delight. 

But he was nothing more than a second son, easily brushed over.

Daeron was still just a babe, too young to understand the slight they possessed not having been born first, but Aemond understood all too well. 

Their family was escorted into a grand throne room and Aemond was in awe of the intricate ornaments that decorated the hall and he briefly wondered why King’s Landing was where the most powerful man in the realm sat when this place existed.

His wide eyes eagerly took in every sight in front of him, admiring how the vast forest behind the castle casted a mystical green glow on the room from the giant window sitting behind the intricate gold throne. 

“Viserys!” A cheerful voice called and for the first time in a long time, Aemond heard his father laugh, a genuinely delighted sound as he embraced his friend.

Aegon shared a brief look with him, his shock at hearing his father's laughter clear in the way he furrowed his brows in bitterness.

“It’s been too long, my friend.” 

“Alicent, always a delight to see you, my dear.” 

Aemond noted the blush on his mother’s cheeks as the charming lord embraced her. He shifted on his feet as his siblings were introduced. He knew what came next, the flippant dismissal was familiar yet it stung each time. 

He looked up as the Lord shook hands with Aegon and gave Helaena a polite nod, her body language giving him the signal she wasn’t comfortable with anything else. 

As he stepped in front of Aemond, he suddenly felt two feet tall under the man’s gaze. Until he smiled. It was a gesture filled with warmth he hadn’t been expecting.

“Aemond, a strong name for a strong lad.” The lord clapped his shoulder and Aemond felt his body straighten, his confidence reappearing the second he realized he wasn’t going to be passed over yet again.

He looked up at the Lord with a smile, feeling more respected by the stranger in front of him than he ever had from his own father.

“You remember my wife,” The Lord gestured to a finely dressed woman who smiled and bowed to them courteously. 

“My son and-” The lord stopped abruptly, suddenly noticing the absence of the person who was supposed to be next in line and looked to his wife who was already wincing, having expected the abrupt drop in conversation due to their eldest daughter’s absence.

“My apologies, my daughter has lived here all her life yet still feels the need to explore.” The Lady of Ixtal explained, the lack of anger in her voice that gave way to begrudging acceptance made it obvious this was a common occurrence.

Viserys laughed and looked at his friend. 

“You could not possibly think your children would give you any trouble, would you?” He chided sarcastically to the Lord who could only laugh in delight at his beloved daughter’s antics. 

Aemond watched the interaction with wide eyes, intrigued by the sense of ease that surrounded everything. 

If they were in King’s Landing and he was late to an event, his mother would have his hyde.

Suddenly, the great doors slammed open and an armored knight was seen running into the room, his hand latched onto someone small who was giggling in delight.

“My Lord, My Lady, I am so sorry, she wanted-”

“It’s quite alright, Ser Jerrod. I know my daughter could not have made it easy for you.” The Lord dismissed the unnecessary apology and smiled down at his daughter who smiled somewhat sheepishly as she passed by to take her place in line. 

She smoothed her hands down the front of her silk dress and stood straighter, putting on the air of the perfect and primed daughter, as if they hadn’t all just seen her enter in a tizzy five minutes late.

Her mother looked down at her and leaned over her brother’s shoulder to pluck a leaf from her disheveled hair. Her eyes widened slightly, fearing retribution for her antics, but her mother only raised a teasing brow, silently admonishing her. 

The girl brushed her messy hair off her shoulder and finally moved her gaze to their guests, a smile coming to her face as she met the eyes of the silver haired boy in front of her.

Aemond was rooted to his spot, his expression one of perplexed confusion. The smile she sent him, the gesture which was so simple - and usually faked by most at court - was blinding. 

He was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t looked at the powerful presence that was the King or the Queen faithfully at his side. She hadn’t looked at Aegon, Daeron or even Helaena, the only girl close to her age in the room. 

She looked at him first. 

She smiled at him first.

It was a gesture that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, but to him, it meant everything, it lifted the veil of neglect he was so familiar with from his shoulders, leaving him to feel lighter than before.

He listened as the Lord introduced his daughter and he ran her name over and over in his head, feeling his cheeks heat, a blush easily coming to his face as she greeted everyone, but her stare came back to him, smiling shyly.

~~

“This place is beautiful.” Helaena spoke dreamily as she took in their surroundings. 

They were granted leave to look around while the servants prepared to set up the welcome feast. 

Aemond couldn't take his eyes off the white sand and the crystal blue water. He breathed deeply, relieved to smell nothing but fresh flowers and ocean water and not the filth that permeated King’s Landing.

“Father should take over this place.” Aegon mused, earning looks of disdain from his siblings, which he easily shrugged off. “What? It’s much better than our shithole of a home.” 

Aemond rolled his eyes at his brother’s crass nature and kept walking, praying Aegon would somehow get lost or at least get bored of his company and leave. 

The sound of a loud laugh caught all of their attention and they walked their way through the lavish gardens to find it. Aemond suddenly became nervous as he saw the children of the Lord and Lady of Ixtal. 

The oldest son was playing some sort of ball game with his younger brother. The youngest sibling was reading quietly with her Septa. But the eldest daughter was nowhere to be found. 

As they stepped forward, the youngest son straightened and nudged his brother to stop. Catching sight of the young Targaryen princes and princess they let the ball they were playing with drop to the ground as they bowed respectfully. 

“Hello.” Helaena spoke brightly and the two young boys were helpless against her sweet nature and they both smiled and greeted her warmly.

“Where’s the other one?” Aegon asked rudely, looking around for the pretty girl from earlier who was missing. 

Aemond grit his teeth, praying Aegon wouldn’t drive her away before he even had the chance to speak to her.

“She’s in her tree.”

“Her tree?” 

The oldest brother pointed to the enormous willow tree behind them. 

He called out to his sister, alerting her to the presence of the royal children and just seconds later, Aemond watched with a slowly growing smile as a lithe form began to descend the ancient tree. 

She was slightly out of breath as she jumped the last few feet to the ground, brushing her already tangled hair out of her face as she practically skipped towards them.

As if her Septa’s teachings and her mother’s scolding from that morning had finally caught up to her, the smile on her face fell slightly, remembering she was in the presence of royalty. She slowed her pace and curtsied slightly clumsily as she came before them. 

“It is lovely to see you all again. I hope you are enjoying Ixtal.”

Aemond felt his face heat with a deep blush at the sound of her voice, the slight accent he heard capturing him instantly and he wished nothing more than to take the book from her young sister’s hands and demand she read it to him just so he could continue to hear the beautiful sound of her voice. 

“Your home is lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Helaena spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. She moved towards the girl, the two of them engaging in easy conversation. 

Aegon began speaking with the two brothers, learning the rules to the ball game they were playing, the young boys instantly getting along. Which left Aemond to stand by himself. 

He shifted on his feet anxiously, contemplating if he should leave and find his mother. He’d at least have someone to talk to then. The pit in his stomach that grew as the familiar feeling of loneliness settled over him broke abruptly at the sound of the beautiful voice again.

“Would you like to sit?”

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment, he wondered if she had actually been speaking to him. His gaze found Helaena who was now kneeling to talk to the youngest of the children who was mesmerized by her lavish dress.

Which left the oldest daughter alone and her gaze on him. 

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and stepped forward slowly, his heart racing as he took a seat on the bench next to her. 

“What are you writing?” He asked after clearing his throat, wincing to himself at the nerves that lingered in his words. 

“Drawing actually.” She corrected. “And not very well by the looks of it.” She shifted closer to him to show him the sketches in her notebook, the scent of lavender invading every one of his senses as her shoulder brushed against his.

His eyes looked over the shaky drawings of flowers and the willow tree she had been sitting in just moments ago. 

“They’re beautiful.”

She smiled and the sight was enough to leave Aemond thankful that he was sitting. 

“Do you draw?”

“No, nowhere near as well as you.”

“You must be shit then because these are awful.”

Aemond choked on his breath at her words, his wide eyes looking over at her in shock. She had a carelessness to her that he thought he would’ve found arrogant, it was certainly how he felt about the other ladies at court who were so brazen before him. 

But he found he could only feel enamored by the girl beside him. 

A quiet laugh escaped him, his stomach flipping in ways he had never felt before. 

“They’re not so bad.” He spoke quietly, his nerves reverting him to his bashful nature. 

“You’re quite the flatterer, Aemond.”

No words came to him, he was left to stare back at her, completely taken aback by her easy nature and blinding smile. 

She continued to show him her other sketches, the conversation between them flowing easily, something that Aemond had never experienced. 

Later, as their guards escorted them away to prepare for the feast, Aemond’s ears rang with the sound of her laughter, leaving him to hope he would hear it again before he had to leave. 

He spent the night with a smile on his face, behaving more animatedly than he had in all his life. Alicent had looked at her second son with barely contained emotion, delighted to see him so at ease. 

She was so caught up in her emotions, she hadn’t even noticed how his eyes never strayed too far from the eldest daughter of Ixtal. 

~~

The mischievous island girl was known to walk around the halls of the castle at all hours. It had happened so often for so long the guards didn’t bother to stop her anymore and no one batted an eye when they saw her wandering. 

She made her way to her parents chamber hours after she had been put to bed. 

She couldn’t stop the thought in her head and she had to see it through. 

With a smile to the guard at her parent’s door, she strolled in as if it were her own chamber. Her parents looked startled for all of a second before they sighed in resignation. 

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Darling?”

“I was.” 

Her father huffed out a laugh. “So what brings you here, Troublemaker?”

She let out a breath, her shoulders straightening, as if portraying herself as proper would help her cause. 

“I want to go with you to King’s Landing.”

Her request did not go over as easily as she wished, she spent the next hour arguing with her parents, pleading her case. She may have overstated how much her decision to learn more about court, but her parents did not need to know her desire lay purely with her need to explore what the Capitol could offer. 

Her parents knew she loved to explore and the chance to see a new part of the realm was too tempting to not indulge her in. Her parents loved her more than anything, they loved and doted on all their children in ways that left Lords and Ladies from other houses to scoff and roll their eyes in disdain. 

They couldn’t say no to her. 

By the next morning, she stood at her father’s side as their ship sailed to King’s Landing, her arm linked through his, her head filled with the wonders of what this new place would have to offer. 

A smile grew on her lips as she pictured the shy boy who had complimented her drawings and her excitement began to grow. 

~~

She was more reserved than she had ever been as she sat beside the table of royals. King Viserys had planned an extravagant welcome feast for the Lord of Ixtal, his new Master of Coin and his daughter to welcome them to King’s Landing. 

She had never experienced so many Lords and Ladies approaching her before, giving her their hand to shake and curtsey before them in greeting. It felt as though she had never truly existed until she made it to the Capitol, where the matters of the court actually held weight and prospect.

Her father had regaled many a knight and Lord over the course of the night, leaving her by his side to sit quietly, the overlooked daughter. She knew the power her house held, she knew the reason most Lords gave their good fortune to her father was to ensure their trade routes would continue prosperously. She knew she was nothing more than fodder at her father’s side.

She picked at her food unhappily, contemplating her decision to venture so far from her home, so far from what was comfortable. Her eyes rose from her plate, surveying the large throne room before her, catching sight of her father in talks with a large group of Lords from around the realm. 

With a heavy sigh, knowing she couldn’t interrupt her father, her eyes moved to the head table where the Targaryen family sat. 

The head seat where the King sat was empty, he was busy at her father’s side. She let her eyes roam over the queen, taking in her quiet servitude and demure presence. Her gaze fell to the heir, Princess Rhaenyra sat with her husband Laenor Valaryon, her brows quickly rising at the sight of the brown haired children sat beside the silver-headed wedded pair. 

Her eyes fell to Queen Alicent’s children, a small smile growing as she caught the gaze of Princess Helaena, the quiet girl sparing her a wave to which she eagerly reciprocated. 

She was never one to fade into the background and she eagerly took the Princess’ gesture as a sign of goodwill, standing from her seat to make her way to the head table. 

Helaena beamed at the girl as she approached, oblivious to her elder brother’s lustful intrigue and her younger brother who sat up straighter as the girl approached. 

“Hello, my Lady, I hope King’s Landing is treating you well.” Helaena greeted the girl happily. 

“It is lovely, Princess. I am sincerely grateful to your father for allowing myself and my father to reside in your home.”

“We are delighted to have you.” Helaena assured her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment, her face turning bashful for a moment. “The ladies of the court will be gathering tomorrow, you should join.”

“I’d love to.” She responded eagerly, relieved to know her newfound solitude would not be long held. 

“You should join us for breakfast as well. I can show you my collection.” Helaena added excitedly. 

“By the Gods, Helaena.” Aegon groaned beside her. 

“Collection?” She asked, staunchly ignoring the prince sitting next to the blushing princess.

“My insects. I’ve collected quite a beautiful group of them. I’d love to show you.”

Helaena had a lovely innocence to her she was powerless against. 

“I’d be delighted to see them.” She told the princess sincerely, hoping she had found a friend in the eccentric girl. “I’ve also heard wonderful things about your library. I’m eager to read the works about Valryian history and the Targaryen dynasty. There are only rumors where I come from.”

Aemond sat forward in his seat, his eagerness to interject himself finally coming to a head.

“I can show you to the library.” Aemond offered, finally making his presence known. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take you from your duties.”

“You won’t.” He insisted, positive his face was blooming with a pink blush as her attention now lay on him. “There are many books that have not been translated, I would be happy to read them to you.”

He seemed to melt under her gaze that watched him curiously. 

“You would do that?”

“Of course.” He insisted.

“That would be wonderful.” 

He was thankful he was sitting because her smile would have knocked him off his feet. 

By the next morning, as soon as the sun rose, he was sitting in the library, anxiously anticipating her arrival. He didn’t have to wait long until the door creaked open and her eager eyes took in the vast shelves around her. 

She greeted him with happiness as if they were long time friends, causing his stomach to flutter in ways he had never felt before. 

“This is incredible.” She mused, eyeing the many books she had to indulge in.

They spent the afternoon together, her at his side as he read the Valryian texts of their history, stopping every few minutes to answer the many intrigued questions she had. 

Aemond was sure his face was on fire, he had never blushed so hard. No one had ever taken such an interest in him, no one had ever paid so much attention to him, no one had ever bothered to listen to him.

But here she was, this girl at his side, eager to know more, asking question after question, trusting him to give her the answer. As soon as he began to fear he had spoken too much, taken too much of her time she’d drawl out ‘tell me more’ or ‘what happened next’ and he was rooted to his seat, turning to the next page as he explained the history of the Targaryen dynasty to her eager ears. 

He had never felt so important. 

~~

King’s Landing proved to be just as wondrous as she dreamed it. Granted, it didn’t have the luxurious beaches or sprawling forests her home did, but she was just thrilled to be exploring a new corner of the world.

Aemond had quickly become her closest ally. He had taken to showing her every inch of the place he thought she would enjoy, dragging her along to the mazes of gardens, the weirwood tree, the luxurious Sept, but her favorite had to be the library. She had spent many late nights with Aemond at her side, perusing through the many ancient works of Valyrian history. 

It fascinated her, but she couldn’t deny she loved to hear Aemond’s voice as he read to her, enthralled with stories of Aegon the Conqueror and his two sister-wives, stories of ancient dragons and their riders, of wars long passed.

A week into their stay, as she broke her fast with her father, she was practically bouncing in her seat, shoveling her food into her mouth as quickly as she could, eager to get the meal over with so she could meet with Aemond and Helaena, the two of them quickly becoming her closest confidants.  

“Slow down, my love, you’re going to choke.” Her father warned with a chuckle at her enthusiasm. 

“Sorry.” She mumbled through the food in her mouth, causing her father to grimace at her very unlady-like behavior. 

“Your eagerness wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Targaryen, would it?” He asked slowly, his knowing smile teasing her clear affection for the young boy she was growing closer to each day. 

“Helaena and I are good friends.” She shrugged, effectively dodging her father’s prying. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, watching her thoughtfully. He had no idea where she had gained such a witty mouth, it certainly wasn’t from him or his sweet, quiet wife. 

She finished the rest of her breakfast at record speed and hopped out of her seat, pressing a quick kiss to her father’s cheek.

“I’ll see you at dinner!” She called out over her shoulder as she skipped to the door. 

“Be safe!” He called out, but she was already racing down the halls. He looked to the guard at the door pointedly who nodded and trailed after the rambunctious girl. 

She slowed her pace once she reached the courtyard, suddenly very aware of the many eyes that would be on her if she was caught sprinting through the halls. She spotted a head of silver hair by the gates and she beamed, throwing all care out the window as she began to jog towards him.

“Aemond!” She called out and watched as the boy turned to her, his own smile growing at the sight of her. 

“Took you long enough.” He jested playfully and reveled in the dramatic scowl she sent him. 

“I’m not late. You are just an insane man that voluntarily wakes with the sun.” 

It was so small, something so miniscule, but it still managed to make his heart race. Knowing she remembered a small detail about him, no matter if it was something that was so inconsequential, was something he couldn’t wrap his head around.

He hadn’t expected it to affect him the way it did.

~~~

She found herself with Helaena in the gardens, finding any bugs she could for the enigmatic

princess. Digging a jittery bug out of the dirt, her nose scrunched in distaste as the many legged creature crawled over her hand.

“What is this thing?”

Helaena peered over curiously and a wide smile beamed on her face.

“That’s a beetle.”

“They’re not poisonous, are they?”

The princess laughed in amusement at the widened eyes that met her gaze and she shook her head. “No, you’re safe.”

The girl nodded and, though still on edge, was less stressed as she held the bug in her hands. 

Helaena, preoccupied with her own bugs, stole frequent looks at the girl next to her, noting the unease in her eyes. She smiled lightly and leaned in close to her.

“You don’t have to do this with me. I know not everyone likes the things I like. I can do this by myself.”

The girl looked startled by her words, a frown growing on her usually bright features and she looked down at the bug in her hands again, her eyes shifting from a look of disgust to one of determination, as if she could force herself to not feel grossed out at their existence.

“I like being here with you.” She said softly. “I don’t really have anyone else here.”

Helaena frowned, the thought of her brother immediately coming to mind and the smile that would grace his usually sullen face every time he was with the Island girl. As if she had conjured him herself, she looked over her shoulder, noticing him coming their way.

“Hello, Brother.” She smiled, though it was futile as his attention was locked onto the beauty beside her.

“Hello.” He spoke, though his eyes never left his sister’s friend. “What are you doing?”

“Finding bugs. Would you like to join?”

Helaena, having expected a ‘no’, given it was always Aemond’s answer anytime she asked him for help digging through the gardens, was shocked as he took a seat among them and dug his hands in the dirt before them without question.

The Princess watched with barely contained delight as her brother and friend immediately started conversing as if she weren’t there, the comfortable ease between them thriving. 

Usually she would feel slighted by such an occurrence, but rather than feeling ignored, she was happy to see her brother, who was usually so serious, look completely unburdened. She worried about him, about how tightly wound he was, but since the Lord of Ixtal and his daughter had come to King’s Landing, she had noticed his demeanor change, as if he could finally take a deep breath and release the things that so often held him down.

Aemond looked at the dirt beneath his fingernails and mourned at what his night routine would be subjected to, but he found he didn’t care all that much. The stolen glances to the girl beside him had all sense of propriety out the window. 

“Do you do this every day, Princess?” She asked the Targaryen who shrugged shyly.

“Most days. I find I prefer the company of bugs over people.”

The bark of laughter that left her had both the siblings smiling, her joyful nature contagious. 

Aemond was transfixed, until he heard his name and he was forced out of his daydreams. He looked up at Aegon who was standing before them, judgment painting his features.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re digging for bugs, Brother.” Helaena answered innocently, her eyes thankfully locked onto the caterpillar on her finger so she didn’t see how her brother rolled his eyes in disdain.

Aemond glowered at his brother, his mood dampened, his protectiveness for his sister rising involuntarily whenever he was around. He hated seeing Helaena’s eyes dim with every one of his hurtful words.

The Island girl looked between the siblings, beginning to understand just how different they were to her and her own siblings. The more time she spent with Aegon, the more she disliked him. She looked back at Aemond and frowned, noticing the dower expression grow on her friend’s face, and she called his name. 

“Hmm?”

“What are these?” She asked, her dirt covered fingers trailing over the petals of the flowers in front of them, diverting his attention from Aegon.

“Marigolds.” He answered quickly, as if he wanted her to be impressed by his knowledge. “You don’t have these in Ixtal?”

“No. It’s a shame, they’re beautiful.”

Aemond bit his lip, his heart racing as she moved back to digging for bugs. He ignored the nerves that coursed through him and reached out to pluck the flower. 

“Here.”

She looked up and her eyes widened, her cheeks burning as he tucked the flower behind her ear, his shy smile mirroring hers, his hesitance clear, but his bravery clearer.

Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair. 

The noise caused them both to glare at the older Targaryen, their eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

“You two are pathetic.”

“It’s not our fault your pea sized brain cannot comprehend the idea of caring for someone other than yourself.” She snarked easily, making Aemond’s eyes widen as he nervously looked between her and his brother whose face twisted in anger.

Thankfully, his brother was smart enough to know not to start a fight with her and he stomped away, most likely in search of more wine.

“You shouldn’t do that.” Aemond mumbled, his worried eyes lingering on his brother’s figure as he stormed off.

“Do what?”

“Antagonize him.” 

“Someone needs to knock him off his high horse. Why can’t it be me?” She shrugged, perfectly content to be the antagonist in Aegon Targaryen’s life.

“Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why would anything happen to me?”

“Because… he’s… it’s Aegon.” He stressed, as if his brother’s existence was enough explanation.

“Yes, and he’s an absolute cock.”

Aemond’s eyes widened, not expecting the vulgar word to leave her lips. Helaena giggled and leaned into the girl at her side. His shoulders slumped and he allowed himself to laugh, amazed yet not surprised at her ability to evade him of his worries. 

~~

A body crashed into her as she turned the corner, almost knocking her off balance, but arms that quickly wrapped around her waist stopped her from falling to the floor. 

She recognized the boy immediately. 

“Aemond.” She greeted breathlessly with a smile. He pulled away from her instantly, taking a step back to create space between them, his head bowed downwards, avoiding her gaze. 

But she saw the tear streaks through the stains of ash on his cheeks. Her smile fell and she stepped towards him, her hands gently lifting his chin, though he vehemently refused and harshly pulled himself away from her. 

“What happened?” She asked, trying to keep the hurt from her voice at his avoidance, something she had never experienced from him.

“Nothing.”

“Aemond.” She admonished gently. She hated when he acted like this, so unlike the kind boy she knew. 

He kept his head down and she sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what happened.” 

Aemond huffed and side stepped around her to continue on his way to lock himself in his chambers and wallow, but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him back towards her. 

He spoke her name, the groaned pronunciation indicating he wasn’t in the mood. 

“I just want to go to my chambers.”

“Fine. We can go together.” She said simply and linked her arm through his as they began to walk.

Aemond let out a long breath, his annoyance flaring for a second, but the moment he looked over at her it faded away into nothing. He brought his arm that was linked with hers closer to his chest, as if needing her touch to soothe his nerves. 

He thought he wanted to be alone. After his mother had brushed off his tears and scolded him yet again for venturing through the dragon pit, he just wanted to wallow by himself, but with her arm in his, her steady presence at his side, he found he wanted nothing but to be with her.

Once they made it to his chambers, he reluctantly let go of her and practically slumped his way to sit on his bed, his head bowed down to his feet, his brother and nephews' latest prank ruminating in his head, causing shame and anger to cascade over every inch of him. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened now or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Aemond huffed at her words and began to fidget with his fingers, focusing on the sand that lingered on his skin rather than meeting her inquisitive gaze. 

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to him on the bed, brushing the sand from his hair. 

“Were you in the dragon pit again?”

He nodded wordlessly and she felt something inside her clench. She would never understand the hole in Aemond’s heart, how his lack of a dragon made him feel so worthless. 

“They said they found a dragon for me.” He mumbled, causing her to look over at him with concern, her stomach sinking at the hurt she heard in his voice, knowing his dreams hadn’t come true that afternoon. 

She knew it could only be a cruel prank at his expense. 

“They gave me a pig.”

Her shoulders slumped, her hand reaching out to grab his, intertwining their fingers with an ease as though she had done it a million times before. She had only held his hand a few times and it made Aemond blush bright red every time, even now as he wallowed. 

“I’m sorry. They shouldn’t be so cruel to you.”

“They’re right. It’s pathetic, a Targaryen without a dragon.”

“Aemond-”

“Maybe I’m not worthy and I’ll never get a dragon, maybe that’s why my egg never hatched. I don’t deserve it.”

“Stop it.” She spoke sternly, gripping onto both his hands in an effort to calm him down from his ranting. “You are every bit as good as any one of them, dragon or no dragon.”

Aemond sighed shakily and moved his gaze back down to his shoes, feeling as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“What if I never find one?” He asked quietly, as if afraid to speak the possibility out into existence. 

“You will. I know you will.” She assured him, though it did little to release him from his sadness. “There are plenty of Targaryens that didn’t claim dragons until later in life.”

Aemond gave her a plain look, to which she just smirked. Serves him right for teaching her about his family history. 

“Aemond, we’re young, we still have so much life to live. It’s not over because you don’t have a dragon yet. You have so much time to find what you’ve always wanted.”

The breath that escaped his lips left him feeling lighter, his hand finally gripping hers back, sending a bashful smile her way, hoping it was enough to convey how grateful he was for her. 

He didn’t think he could ever find the words to tell her. 

“You’d be with me, won’t you? For my first ride?”

“You would want me there?”

“Of course I would.” 

She smiled and he was powerless but to return his own. “Then I’ll be there.”

~~

Aemond’s glare was steady on his face, his eyes locked onto the Strong bastard that twirled her around. 

How dare he ask her to dance, how dare he touch her, how dare he make her smile.

His disdain for his nephews was clear, they certainly didn’t give him much reason to be cordial, but this was the last straw. Seeing Jacaerys’ hands on her made his blood boil. 

Those damned nephews of his had already stolen her away from his side that afternoon. He could only watch helplessly as she played around with the bastards and spoke politely to his half sister Rhaenyra. 

He almost resented how sweet his friend was. He loved her kind heart, he just hated when it extended to his elder half sister and her sons who he despised. 

He hated when Jacaerys and Lucerys stole her away from his side. It was happening more and more as they became closer. He felt like he was losing her, the more times she spent breaking her fast with his eldest sister and her brood, the more he dreaded every moment away from her. 

She was his only friend, the only one he felt truly understood him, or at least made the effort to. Losing her would mean losing the only shred of happiness he’d managed to find for himself. 

He averted his gaze from Jace and the Ixtal girl, the sight of both their bright smiles becoming too painful.

“They seem to get along well.” His father mused, prompting Aemond to torturously follow his gaze to the pair yet again. 

His heart began to race at the insinuation, at the knowing look in his father’s twinkling eyes. 

“Yes, he seems to be quite taken with her.” Rhaenyra noted with a loving smile. 

“They’d make a fine match.” His mother added. Aemond looked to his mother, betrayal in his gaze. His mother knew how much his friend meant to him, she knew someone so precious shouldn’t be shackled to a bastard. 

He refused to hear another word. His chair screeched loudly against the floor as he abruptly stood and made his way out of the room as if there were no air left for him to breathe. They couldn’t take her away from him, they couldn’t give her to that bastard. 

He raced to his chambers, hoping he was quick enough that no passing guards could see the tears forming in his eyes. 

By the next day, he found himself in the gardens, his eyes locked onto the open book in his lap as he read and re-read the same sentence over and over, his racing mind not allowing him to focus on the words in front of him. 

The dread he had been feeling since the night before had not dissipated in the slightest.

“Aemond!” 

His heart leapt within his chest at the sound of her voice. His hopeful eyes looked around the garden before landing on her and a feeling of lead settled within him, bringing him right back down to his dour mood as he noticed Jace and Lucerys beside her. 

She motioned for him to join but he just shook his head softly and moved his gaze back down to his book. 

He let out a long breath, trying his hardest to ignore the bitterness that grew in his heart, one that was all too familiar from before he met her. He startled slightly as a body slumped next to him. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her looking at him questioningly.

“Why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

She breathed deeply, as if disappointed by his obvious lie. “Why didn’t you join us?”

He shrugged, he couldn’t very well tell her the truth about how he despised his nephews and seeing her with them was like a dagger to the heart, how he feared losing her, his greatest friend. 

“I didn’t want to intrude.” He spoke softly. 

Her eyes narrowed at his words, her gaze moving to the two Velaryon boys who were talking quietly amongst each other, their curious eyes occasionally drifting to her and Aemond. 

She knew there was tension among them, the way they seemed to side with Aegon and play along in the cruel pranks he would play on Aemond always made her stomach twist. She suddenly felt guilty that she had never considered how it would make Aemond feel to be forced in their vicinity after how they treated him. 

She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him. 

“You could never intrude.”

Aemond looked over at her, but quickly averted his gaze, finding it just too much to look in her eyes while she sat so close to him. 

“You don’t have to stay with me. If you want to be with them, I won’t stop you.” He spoke quietly. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel smothered by him. 

“I’d rather be with you.”

Her answer left him using all of his willpower to keep himself from marching directly to his father and demanding a betrothal this instant. 

She chose him. 

No one had ever chosen him.

~~

She was bored out of her mind. With Aemond and Helaena gone to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral, she was left without her closest confidants, leaving her little to do in their absence. She wished she’d been granted leave to attend the funeral with them, but her father had never met Laena and had been tasked with extra duties while the King was gone, leaving her to stew in her loneliness.

She was curled up on the settee by her bed, her sketchbook in her lap as she scrawled out an attempt at drawing Dreamfyre, to horrible failure. 

A soft knock on her door made her lift her head and she sat up straighter when her father entered. The look on his face made her stomach twist, dread falling upon her like a crashing wave. 

She got to her feet quickly, feeling unsteady on her now weak legs.

“Darling, there was an… incident on Driftmark.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing. “What happened?”

“I wasn’t privy to all the details but all I know is that Aemond has been injured.” 

The breath was knocked out of her and at the first sign of her face crumbling into despair, her father crossed the room and held her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as the first sob broke free. 

“Is he alright?”

Her father let out a long breath at her hiccuped words, holding her tightly. He knew his daughter had certain affections for the young boy, but hearing her now made him realize just how deeply she cared for him. 

“The Maesters say he has lost an eye.” 

A shuddering breath escaped her and she suddenly felt faint. She had no idea how, what could have unfolded, who would dare to do something so barbaric to him. 

The next days were spent in agony. She barely left her chambers. Every time her father came to check in on her, he found her sitting by her window, her gaze locked onto the horizon, waiting eagerly for the Targaryen family’s arrival. 

On the third day of her lonely torment, she finally spotted it. Dragons on the horizon. She was on her feet in a second and racing down to the courtyard. She was out of breath and disheveled by the time she made it, but her pace only quickened when she saw Helaena with her mother. 

She called out to her friend and Helaena let out a breath of relief when she saw her, her arms opening for her as she approached. 

Helaena didn’t let many touch her, but she was one of the lucky few she allowed. 

“Are you alright? Where’s Aemond? Will he be ok?” She fired off questions, not even able to get a breath out through her frantic words. 

“It’s alright, my Darling. Aemond will be fine.” Alicent consoled her, placing her arm around the shaking girl’s shoulders.

“Where is he?”

“He’s been taken to the Maester’s solar. He’ll have to spend some time there while he heals.” 

“What happened?” She asked breathlessly.

“What I told him.” Helaena interjected calmly. “He gained a dragon, but he had to close an eye.” 

She looked at Helaena with shock. “He… he claimed a dragon?”

She couldn’t make sense of the despair, relief and joy she had felt all at once. Knowing Aemond and his endless plight to gain a dragon, she knew he would see it a worthy trade, but the thought of him injured, permanently maimed, made her want to crumble to the ground below her. 

After bidding goodbye to Alicent and Helaena, she made her way to the Maester’s wing of the Keep. She was denied entry, but she was determined to not let it stop her. Each day, at the crack of dawn, she’d drag herself out of bed and, before even breaking her fast, would make the trek to the Maester’s wing and ask to see Aemond.

She was refused each and every day, but it did little to deter her. She kept trying. 

It had been weeks since she had seen Aemond. Her heart was aching without the presence of her best friend, without the boy that made her smile like no other could. 

On the fifth day of the third week, as she made the familiar walk to his door, the guard stopped her, as usual, though his words were different.

“The Prince does not wish for any visitors.” 

She frowned. It always used to be the order of the Maesters or Alicent, claiming her son needed his rest, but now it was Aemond himself refusing her. 

She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but she knew she had felt her heart crack in a way she had never felt before. 

She walked away from the door with her head bowed in defeat.

The hurt she felt mirrored Aemond’s own. Refusing her made him ache, but the thought of her seeing him as he was and looking at him with disgust was unfathomable and he would delay that inevitable despair as long as he could. 

He sulked in his bed, the dour expression on his face one that had been constant for weeks. 

His mother was by his bedside as she had been for weeks. He couldn’t stand to see her wince or her teary eyes everytime she looked at his ghastly scar. 

She had been trying, in no subtle terms, to get him out of the room, even going as far to bring up his friend, the one he longed to see yet dreaded ever seeing the same look on his mother’s face on hers. 

“It’s been a few weeks. She’s been worrying herself sick.” His mother told him, making his already weak heart more fragile. 

He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair. 

“Aegon and Helaena will be heading out tomorrow to Ixtal. You should take Vhagar and join them.”

Aemond shifted uncomfortably. He knew his friend was leaving tomorrow, to visit home for her mother’s name day. They had all been invited, but with his father’s fading health and his mother’s refusal to ride on dragonback, it left just Aegon and Helaena to join the festivities. 

“Aemond.” His mother prompted again, the disappointment in her voice clear. 

“I don’t want to go.” He mumbled, one of the few sentences he’d managed over the past few weeks. 

His mother sighed in defeat and didn’t bring it up again for the rest of the night, leaving him to his solitude as he preferred. 

The next morning, Aemond lay in bed, the wound over his eye itching gratingly. He longed to claw at the wicked scar, to scream in anger, to enact his vengeance on that Strong bastard. The fury festered in him like the open wound on his face, red and flaming. 

The soft sound of his door opening and closing made him stir, assuming it was his mother yet again. As he lazily turned his head, dread settled in his stomach, his remaining eye widening in horror at the sight of her, the one he longed for yet resisted. 

She froze in her place at the door, her jaw falling slack, a shaking hand covering her mouth as a hitched breath escaped her at the sight of him. 

Aemond’s face twisted in agony. This was exactly what he wished to avoid. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked angrily, tears forming in his remaining eye. 

“I just wanted- I wanted… we’re leaving soon.” 

It was faint but he heard it. Fear. The stuttering of her words, the quiet, almost docile way she spoke that was so unlike her was like a hatchet to his heart. The look on her face was even worse. She could barely make eye contact with him.

“Get out.” He spoke lowly through gritted teeth.

“Aemond, I-”

“Get out! I don’t want you here!” He screamed at her, tears steadily falling down his cheeks. 

Her own tears began to fall, her face twisting with agony. He hated it. He didn’t want her pity, he didn’t want to see the disgust on her face that everyone would face him with for the rest of his life. 

“Leave me alone! I never want to see you again!” 

She let out a sob and turned on her heel, leaving the room with haste. 

Aemond slumped back in bed, placing his hands over his face, ignoring the way it made his eye ache, and he cried for what he had lost. 

Not just his eye, but his love, his happiness. His everything. 

~~

She stood on the balcony of the banquet hall, breathing in the fresh ocean air. She missed home. She had thought of this moment for weeks, had been eager and excited to finally visit, yet now that she was there, it was bittersweet. 

The sound of the waves weren’t as peaceful as she remembered. The food she ate wasn’t as delicious as she remembered. The music and the dancing wasn’t as exciting as she remembered. 

“Darling?”

She turned to see her mother approaching, concern written across her face as she moved to stand next to her daughter, her arm crossing over her shoulders, bringing her in close to her side. 

“Are you alright? I thought I’d see you dancing all night.”

“I’m fine.”

The Lady of Ixtal looked to her once vibrant daughter worriedly. She was far from the girl that had left all those months ago. From all the letters she had sent, it seemed her daughter was having the time of her life in King’s Landing. The girl she saw now wasn’t the one who had gleaned nothing but happiness.

“Was it not what you expected?”

She stiffened, the need to defend her friends and her new found home rising. “No, it’s- King’s Landing is lovely.”

Her mother sighed. She had gotten a short re-telling of the last few weeks in the Capitol from her husband and she was starting to put the pieces together. 

“I couldn’t help but notice your friend isn’t here.” 

She looked up at her mother, her wide doe-like eyes giving everything away. 

“Aemond?”

She felt her cheeks heat and she turned her attention back to the view before her, focusing on the waves of the ocean, mirroring her breathing with each crashing wave. 

“He’s not my friend anymore.” She spoke quietly through the lump that grew in her throat. 

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds as though he is going through an awful time, something no one, especially someone so young, should ever have to endure. People don’t exactly act rationally when they are hurt. It is easy to speak things that are untrue in that state.”

She stayed silent, taking in her mother’s words thoughtfully. It was easy enough to explain, but it didn’t lessen the hurt she felt. 

“You can stay here if you wish. The Gods know I would love to keep you in my arms, but I don’t think that is truly what you want.”

She let out a shaking breath, her mind a mess as she thought of her life in King’s Landing, of what she’d be leaving behind. But, if Aemond was being truthful and he didn’t want to see her or be her friend anymore, what would her life be like there?

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Her mother assured her. “Or else we’ll have a dragon landing on our shores demanding you come back.”

The smile on her mother’s face made the hurt inside her melt away slightly. Her conviction that Aemond would forgive her for her intrusion, that he would bring her back into his life and his arms made her hopeful. 

Her mother was never wrong and she prayed she wouldn’t start now. 

~~

She clutched onto Helaena’s waist as they flew on Dreamfyre back to King’s Landing. No matter how thrilling it was to ride a dragon, no matter that she felt as light as a feather, that she could touch the clouds and feel as though she was in a magical, untouchable realm, it felt wrong. 

Her first ride shouldn’t have belonged to Helaena, it shouldn’t have been with Dreamfyre. It wasn’t what she promised. 

As they dismounted, Helaena’s hand held hers and stayed, holding tightly as they made their way from the dragonpit to the Keep, as if knowing her friend needed the comfort. 

As they parted, Helaena promised she’d spend the day with her tomorrow, knowing she needed the distraction from Aemond.

She smiled, though it wasn’t as bright as usual, and with a wave, they parted. She stepped into her chambers and sighed heavily, mourning what her time in King’s Landing would hold. 

She moved to her bed, content to hide under the covers for the rest of the day, but she stopped, noticing a bundle of flowers on her desk. She frowned, she certainly hadn’t put them there before she left. 

She stepped closer, her fingers gently tracing along the soft petals. They were perfectly bloomed and freshly plucked, most likely just placed on her desk mere minutes before she arrived. 

It suddenly struck her. 

They were marigolds. 

She remembered the flower Aemond had tucked behind her ear, the ones he would bring her on occasion simply because he knew she was fond of them. 

Her heart began to race, her stomach flipping at the merest notion that it could’ve been from her best friend. She picked up the bundle, inhaling their fresh scent with a small smile. 

She noticed the slip of parchment below them, the simple words in familiar handwriting brought tears to her eyes. 

I am deeply, truly sorry.

I didn’t mean a word of what I said

Please forgive me

- Your Aemond

Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow. 

The words he had screamed at her that day hurt her deeply, yet the thought of not having Aemond by her side, not having him as her friend, was unfathomable.

She spent the remainder of the day in her chambers, picking sparsely at the food her father had sent to her, knowing she wanted her solitude. By the next morning, having thought of nothing but Aemond all night, she was determined to see the end of their rift.

She dressed quickly and stepped out of her chambers, determined to march her way straight to Aemond, but she was stopped by her guard.

“The Prince has requested your presence in the gardens.” 

The crease in her brow that signaled her determination smoothed out, leaving nothing but hopeful nervousness as she quickly made her way through the halls of the Keep. She ignored the looks of disdain from the ladies of the court as she raced past them, ignoring the whispers of her undignified behavior. 

They were the last things on her mind.

Her heart was racing within her chest as she approached the gardens. She walked the familiar path, one she had taken countless times, to get to their usual meeting spot. Her feet came to an abrupt stop as she turned the last corner and saw him sitting on their bench, the one they always congregated to over the months together. 

Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him. 

She called out to him softly, cursing herself for how her voice shook in hopeful anticipation. 

Aemond turned to face her and she was shocked to see the eyepatch across his face, covering the angry looking wound she had seen that morning in his chambers. 

Her heart ached at the sight of the red scar that peeked out from the patch. It looked painful and the reminder of what he had gone through, what his own nephew had inflicted on him made her want to cry. 

He spoke her name in greeting, giving her a small, weak smile. He winced slightly, the pull of his cheeks causing his scar to flair with pain. 

Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He seemed smaller, as if he sat hunched over, trying hard not to take up too much space in the world. 

“I’m sorry.” She blurted out before he could speak. He looked up at her incredulously, his stomach twisting at the despair he saw on her face. “I shouldn’t have just barged into your chambers. I knew you wanted privacy and I ignored your wishes and I’m sorry. I never meant-”

Aemond spoke her name breathlessly, stopping her rambling apology. He had never seen her so frantic before, it was unnerving to him, nothing at all like the lively girl he was used to. And it was his fault.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He told her softly. He looked down at his hands that fidgeted in his lap, shame overcoming him as he thought back to that day, when he had yelled at her so callously. He had replayed that moment over and over again in his head for days and it was torturous each time. 

He couldn’t get the sight of her tears out of his head. To know he was the cause was his greatest shame. 

“I’m sorry.” He spoke earnestly, looking her in the eyes intently, hoping she would believe him. “I never should have spoken to you that way. I’m so sorry I made you cry. I never will again, I promise.” 

She let out a long breath, his words stirring something inside her she couldn’t recognize.

He frowned deeply at her lack of reaction, shuffling over and patted the space next to him on the bench, motioning for her to take a seat beside him. 

She moved slowly, hesitantly taking her seat next to him. 

“I’ve never seen you that angry before.” She spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper as she recalled that dreadful day. 

Aemond sighed and bowed his head. 

“I…” He started but soon found he had no words, no excuses for how he had treated her. Nothing would ever make it ok, never to her. “I hated to see you look at me like that.” Was the only thing he could think to say.

“Like what?”

“Like you were horrified of me.”

“I was horrified.” She said and he felt his insides turn to stone, his throat tightening with emotion. “But not of you. Never of you.” She added quickly, causing him to look over at her, his eye wide and shining with unshed tears. 

“But-”

“Aemond, the thought of what happened to you, the thought of you in pain… it hurts me.” 

The vice around his heart lifted instantly. His mind was spinning with the insinuation of her words.

“You… you’re not-”

She reached out, taking his hand in hers, causing words to fail him.

“I could never be afraid of you. I could never feel disgusted by you, I could never think any less of you, or whatever other horrible thing you think I feel for you now. No scar will change how I care for you.”

The weight that had been suffocating him for weeks now seemed to lift just the slightest, allowing him to feel as though he could finally take a breath. 

He let out a shaking breath and tightened his hand in hers. She smiled softly and leaned in closer to his side, letting her head fall to his shoulder, letting him revel in her closeness.

He hated the stares he got from the ladies at court, he hated the winces, the horrified gasps as he passed them. He hated the worried looks he received, as if he was seconds away from collapsing like a weak mannered child. 

But none of it mattered. 

She still cared for him, she was still by his side, her hand in his.

Even the burning fury he held for his nephew seemed dim in the wake of the pure delight he felt in her presence.

“But, if you ever raise your voice to me like that again I will smack you.” 

Her threat, that held no anger in the slightest, made him laugh and duck his head against hers as his body shook with each breath of laughter. 

His first laugh since the incident. 

From then, they were closer than ever. One was seldom seen without the other at their side. 

The Ladies at court through the two of them were just about the most darling thing they had ever seen. Yet, not everyone was rooting for the threads of young love to flourish. 

Alicent watched her son in the training yard with a frown. Her second son, so dutiful and so smart, was becoming distracted. Her eyes never strayed from him as he neglected his own lessons to play around with his friend, watching with a scowl as the two of them laughed together, as if there was no care in the world.

The sight of the young girl in the training yard was enough to leave her appalled, but her son’s willingness to indulge in such unseemly behavior was worrying. 

“We cannot let this go any further.” Her father spoke from beside her. 

“I can’t very well tell him he cannot be her friend. It would devastate him.”

“Let them be friends, but make it clear that is all it will ever be. Aemond can’t get any ideas about marrying this girl.”

Alicent chewed on her lower lip anxiously. The thought of tearing her son away from such happiness turned her stomach, but the thought of him marrying a girl so unpredictable was just as unfortunate. 

“Would it really be so bad? We could gain leverage with her father.”

“Ixtal is a neutral house. They have never taken a stand in any war, that won’t change now. We cannot risk Aemond allying with a house that could not give us leverage for Aegon’s claim.” Otto hissed angrily. 

Alicent wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes falling back to her son, taking in the sight of his smile while she still could. She doubted it would be a common sight once he was forced away from the Island girl. 

But they all had a duty to perform.

~~

Her arm was looped through his as he guided her past the dragon pit. 

“Where are we going?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at the structure that housed the mighty Targaryen dragons they had just passed. 

“Vhagar doesn’t stay there. She doesn’t fit.” Aemond explained, a slightly smug smirk crossing his features as he subtly boasted about his newly claimed dragon.

Her smile twitched slightly, her nerves suddenly overtaking her. She’d been hesitant when Aemond offered to introduce her to his mount, but the reminder of the great beast’s sheer size had the beginnings of fear creeping through her veins. 

Noticing the subtle shift in her expression, Aemond tightened his grip on her arm. 

“I would never put you in danger.” He assured her. “Vhagar is bonded to me, she can feel what I feel for you and she would never hurt you.”

“If I could hear that directly from Vhagar I might be able to breathe properly.” 

Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly. 

Soon, they arrived at the crest of the hill, Vhagar’s enormous form coming into view. A shuddering breath escaped her when she came face to face with the historic dragon that fought in wars long before her time. 

She could barely comprehend such a beast of her size existed among them, that the sweet boy beside her commanded her or even willingly approached her. 

“Relax.” Aemond told her softly, moving out of her hold so his hand could take hers, intertwining their fingers. 

The pair of them stepped towards the sleeping giant. She watched, mystified, as Aemond spoke a few words of Valaryian, the dragon's eyes sleepily opening, her large head lifting towards them. 

She felt her body freeze, the blood in her veins running cold as the mighty dragon looked past her rider, her curious gaze landing on her. A low rumble shook the ground, Vhagar’s protest to the stranger before her. 

Aemond soothed his dragon, placing an affectionate hand on her snout as he spoke soft commands. 

She doubted a few measly words would suddenly convince Vhagar that she wasn’t a tasty snack, but she could only watch, her eyes widening as the dragon became disinterested by her presence, laying her head back down on the warm grass she had been slumbering on. 

Aemond looked over his shoulder at her prone form several feet back and smiled, motioning her to come closer. 

She shook her head adamantly, her feet frozen in place. 

He spoke her name, holding his hand out to her. 

She looked to his hand and then to his dragon and back again, contemplating the risk to her life. 

“Do you trust me?” Aemond asked and her tense shoulders sagged. She had no reason to doubt her best friend. With one look in his eye, she knew he would never let any harm come to her. 

She took slow steps forward, her fear not allowing her to move any quicker. 

She reached out and took Aemond’s hand in hers as soon as she was close enough, holding on tightly.

“It’s alright.” He assured her. 

He guided her hand toward Vhagar, watching the girl beside him closely, gaging every expression that crossed her face in a matter of seconds. From fear, to doubt, to disbelief and suddenly to awe. 

A shaky laugh left her lips as her hand softly rested on the rough scales of Vhagar’s side. Pure delight was etched across her face as she pet the mighty beast as if she were nothing more than a house cat. Aemond saw how excited she got when one of the many stray cats that roamed Flea Bottom ventured their way into the Keep. 

The excited smile she wore now as she pet his dragon was the same one he saw when she would cradle those strays. 

The thought made him laugh and he leaned in close to her, letting his head rest against hers. 

Seeing her now, fearless by his mount’s side, only confirmed what he already knew. 

She was meant to be with dragons. Meant to be with him. 

~~

I will hopefully have the next chapter out within the next couple of days! And yes, every chapter is going to be long, I have no control. Hope you liked it xx

[controld3vil]

the one

pairing: aegon ii targaryen x targ!reader

synopsis: thrown into madness, not one person can comfort the king of his thoughts. his sister wife left to deal with her grief. his mother for chooses not to heed his needs. his brother, gone in silver of the night. yet you, left forgotten stand in front of him, teary eyed.

notes: i gasped loud this episode!!

content warning: spoilers obvi for s2ep2, themes of grief and inferiority, targcest; if you are uncomfortable, please do not interact.

The death of Jaehearys exhausted you.

Nothing prepared you for the shock and emotional consequences. It felt as though a giant sea storm had swept away your emotions and feelings of sense. Because in a way, you felt numb and unable to comprehend what you were feeling. It was either too strong or your denial in it that made you feel out of it. In the confidence of your home, the grand kingdom of your father and his grandsire before, suddenly you feel apprehensive about where you resided and the castle itself. Who to trust and not as a moment noticed in your head as your mind spirals down a rabbit hole. 

Your nephew, a kin of your own, was dead. 

He was murdered in cold blood. In the sanctum of your home, in the privacy of the royal rooms. It was your fault you were not by Helaena’s side. Oh, your poor sister, the turmoil she must’ve endured in the small moments last with her son. A small piece of purity and semblance he brought into your little life and a beacon of what you strived for every day. Yet now, it has all turned to blood and dust. Used and tossed away like the sacs of bodies they would throw off dead soldiers in the aftermath of a tiring battle. 

There you sat with a half cup of wine, undrank. You dared not step out of the chambers of your comfort. Not for long, your presence would be reminded of the council. You insist on every meeting that your presence would bestow better acquisition. In most eyes, the men divert their gaze from you.

In contrast, your wretched mother opens her mouth agape with hardly any words being supported. Your grandsire contrasts, always with an excuse that you should be needed elsewhere other than the higher discussion. How benign of you, dear granddaughter. But you are unfit for a position at court.

Otto Hightower would never speak those words directly. But you know in your heart and his intuition, the words are nearly there. You don’t need an interpreter to translate what is said by the councilmen. Even if they are unaware, you understand all that is said. A tragic incident, Your Grace. The Kingsguard are doing their best to inspect all the members in the castle as we speak.

“I will have it! They will pay for this!”

The dried tears that swept down your cheeks felt sticky and annoyingly guilt-ridden of the events that had happened. You would not allow them to witness them. They were not worthy of your sadness. In grace, you hiked your dress over your feet to climb up to the doors. From where you were, you could discern the murmurs of Aegon and his hysterical yelling, absolutely mad with anger and rage. Respectfully so, the loss of his child was an unexpected and stressful one. 

When the chambers open, the rest of the councilmen stop for a moment. Before you begrudgingly make your way to the center. “Gentlemen,” You are at fault in giving away your tearful expression, the candlelight's of the chandeliers do your angelic features justice. And no noble would dare to speak upon its beauty and sorrow. All while, your lady in waiting, trails timidly behind you, head pointed down in respect. “Your Grace,” You address, and finally for a blind second, a glint of relief flashes on Aegon’s face. Finally, he must think, someone he trusts abides in the room.

“Princess,” The Hand levels his chin, leaving a steady foot of your unforeseen appearance. Beside him, your mother lays agape in both deary and fortification. 

The Queen stumbles on the syllables of your name, quietly. As if she was citing a wrongful plea of desperation. “Is- Is Helaena?” Of course, the last she saw you was in her bed chambers, coming in to console your sweet sister and her child. Alicent was running amuck, pulling on the fabric of her dress to prevent you from witnessing her privacies before. Luckily you didn't have to witness that. 

“She is with Ser Arryk and Jaeheara.” You breathed out, soft and mellow. You can tell by the exhale of your mother and grandsire's shoulders that deflating meant that their worries were at least accomplished. And a slight corner of your eye, your brother too relaxes in caution, aware of his wife and daughter’s whereabouts. 

“Good good,” Alicent frantically nods as if trying to reassure herself that her child and granddaughter were safe. Ser Arryk was a noble knight, one who betrayed his twin to stay beside the king’s side. That alone was enough to prove his loyalty and servitude. “Thank you, my daughter.” You swallow with a gaping hole in your throat. The whole room felt the compacting of the many eyes directed at you and the Queen Mother. 

“And what might be the reason for your intrusion on this council meeting, princess?” Otto’s voice somewhat triggers a fight or flight response in you. You’ve dealt with similar situations before, wanting to be included in the war business. However this was different, the council was discussing matters of potential betrayal and the killing of your kin. You suddenly felt targeted for the offense of interrupting something crucial and overriding. 

However, you know you should have a say in this matter. “Shouldn’t I be present when the death of my nephew has been informed to me merely hours ago?” There was a snap in your voice that many of them knew. Though some such as your mother and brother were accustomed to that sound more often. 

“Perhaps it is best if the princess were with the Queen to rest away comfort and grief,” Maester Orwyle suggests only to infuse your temper. 

In a quick turn, your lilac orbs strike an alarming resemblance to vexation and hostility. “Why?” Your tone was sharp and accusing just as it was. The Queen Regent could only watch and stare mutely at your grueling pettiness. Lord Tyland and Ser Criston Cole dare not to look at you but at the maester. While Aegon, all the more slightly frustrated at Maester Orwyle’s comments, stops and waits for your dreadful retaliation like a venomous viper. Otto couldn’t look more disappointed in you. 

“The death of your nephew is a tearful one, princess. And maybe you should stay within the quarters with the Queen for safety.” The maester does not falter in his reasoning, knowing how quick and ill-tempered you are similar to your brother was to retaliation. But his expression flickers in doubt shortly after you are seen to lay your palms on the edge of the end of the table. It’s hard wooden material, clenched tightly around your hands as you glance up at the councilman with fury in your eyes. 

“I am more capable than you think of me, Maester Orwyle. And I would be damned to sit in silence and pity for this horrendous murder!” You snarl, a frown forming at the edges of your lips. You were livid beyond this. Only when you want to be present in the decisions regarding your kin, did the council decline your way. It’s insulting. “My nephew should be avenged! To whoever ordered the murder!” 

“I wholeheartedly agree,” The Hand’s inclusion is an attempt to bring a truce between the others who felt your presence as much of a disturbance. “But we should not be hasty and leave every opportunity out in the open.” 

“This is my son we are talking about,” Aegon’s hand came down with a thump on the table. He’s since calmed down but you know there is still rage in his heart. The fuel of it burning and churning for the desire to find and kill whoever brought out the murder. “We must search the grounds for traitors, find anyone who leaves the Red Keep, and capture them immediately!”

“Of course, Your Grace but we should consider what this would be for Rhaenyra,” Alicent reminds the room when she scans everyone’s thoughts and faces. On the other hand, you stand uncomfortably, with the sense of your legs growing numb. 

“That bitch queen of bastards will pay!” The King screams, pointing with an accusative finger. “She is on her throne, laughing at me for this! For the death of my son, I want her dead!” It’s like a fire has been lit in your brother’s mind. It flashes and flickers rapidly as he manages to strike and spit out outrage of his growing vengeance on the Black Queen. However quick his temper simmers and rises.

The coming morning of Jaehaerys funeral drags his body to the Sept to be burnt in Targaryen tradition. More importantly, it is to sway the people’s opinion of Aegon’s claim and blame Rhaenyra for the tragic death. Spurs of propaganda flourish in the crowds as the chariot drags the casket of the fresh body, followed by the Queen and her Regent. What felt like discomfort and suffocation for Helaena only her no semblance through the entire morning. She is grieving and mourning in her own way. No one can understand the loss of a mother of her children. It is the tragedy she has felt for the first time and it stings her to her stomach. For most of the ride, Helaena could not breathe or look at the folk people, afraid of what they might do. She’d never left the Keep like this before, presented all fragile and glorious as the new Queen officially. 

Even so, she knows you are more suited for the role. Helaena has thought of it many times where you should’ve been wife to Aegon instead of her. She knows why her mother and grandsire chose her. It was because she was compliant and willing to do her duty as a lady wife. While you had no sense of duty. More or less, so did Aegon but at least she would elevate his image as King with her kind personality. 

“Helaena,” You spoke, interrupting her thoughts amid her sewing. Your sister pauses and then looks at the piece she has been working on. It was a picture of purple lily flowers, something you had mentioned wanting to see from the grounds of the Highgarden. She thinks of you and subconsciously starts to sew a new patch of thread. She’s sweet to you like that, and you forever cherished that side of her. And it's a shame her softened voice always now came with a stutter and droop of a sob. 

Helaena wakes up from her daze and greets you with a warm yet sombreros smile. “You are well?” The question itself leaves bitterness off of your tongue because you should be asking her that. You know Helaena isn’t one to openly express her emotions and thoughts proudly. As her sister, you honor that but also can become the maternal figure she needs within seconds. 

“I should be asking you the same,” You smile, looking smug and all. And your sister’s droopy eyes slowly lighten with glee. Her small frown turns upside down and suddenly you feel your heart fill with warmth and joy. “What has the Queen been sewing all this time?” 

“Purple lilies,” She gently shows you her work and focuses on your excitement. What she appreciates is your fascination with her skill with a thread and needle. You had no talent in it, much to your mother’s display. But you would gladly watch your sister sew for hours for the fun of it. “I remember you mentioning them a while ago. And I thought it would be pretty to make for you,” 

“How thoughtful of you,” You plead with your gentle eyes, resting a hand on her thigh. You looked like you were going to burst into tears out of happiness for her nonsensical act. You act differently around her and the children, sometimes Helaena thinks you have two personalities. One with her family minus Aegon and another with everyone else. You were mushy and caring, nothing like yourself hours earlier in the morrow in the councilroom. She had heard you burst into a meeting, enraged by them claiming you as a disturbance to their discussion. Like the stubborn person you were, she knew you would rather stay and argue with them for hours. And that you, for her boy. 

The Queen hums, delighted by your soothing presence in her slightly dimmed room. The room had been cleared of children's beds and toys. Now it lies barren with little to no furniture. The curtains did not change, they were arranged simply to allow some light into the chambers to let the children wake. But now, there would be none and it is left abandoned. 

“How is Jaeheara?” The whisper of your voice is the only thing she’s heard after minutes of silence. Helaena does not reply immediately, knowing her thoughts are too invasive and terrifying to think about. The black gown she still has on feels tight and makes her uncomfortable. She doesn't want to remember the funeral. It was too much for her to reminisce about despite being hours earlier. 

She makes another loop with bright purple stringing onto her needle. “She is well and is accompanied by a Kingsguard during her lessons,” She makes sure to include the Kingsguard, knowing you have been adamant about the protection and security around King’s Landing. As of late, it felt as though the castle did not feel like home anymore. It became somewhat of a hollow skeleton of a dungeon. With many escape routes and corridors, people would walk in and out without notice. It terrifies her and knowing you, you would rather be killed than have another child murdered. 

Her response pleases you however Helaena is aware of something else on your mind. She can feel it without looking at your face to know. It’s your inseparable bond as a sister that you sometimes were astounded by. Helaena calls it a bond and maybe she is right. Your eyes are focussed on somewhere else and it gives her a moment to look at you. Your brows furrowed with a subtle curve of a scowl makes her believe you were having negative thoughts. Were you feeling guilty about Jaehearys death?

“What’s wrong sister?” Despite her knowing the reason, Helaena wants you to admit your remorseful thoughts. The veil that covered her face was no longer present and she could face you without barriers. Her lilac eyes look at you, softening at you. 

“I can’t help but think I am guilty of Jaehearys death,” You sound vulnerable, no other person would witness this side of you. Because you shielded this side of you. Your display of weakness was only meant for people like Helaena, close to you, unjudging and caring in your coping. Yet sometimes you think of your sinful thoughts of guilt to be an act of punishment. You sometimes felt you were meant to feel this way for not being present with the Queen and her children when it happened. Why couldn’t you be a good sister and protect the ones you loved?

“You should not be,” Her small palm cradles the side of your jaw, making your stare connect with her. Helaena is quiet and gentle in her expression of words. What she says always has an impact. She is a woman of few words and it makes her speech inspirational. “I- For anything, it was my part as a mother, for letting my child be murdered in cold blood-”

“No of course not!” You were quick to retaliate to her pleas. She could not be responsible for such a horrific act taken against the crown. “Helaena, you did your best to protect your children.”

“Yet I was asked to choose,” The bottom of her lips quivered, and eventually hot tears filled her waterline. “And I had no other choice!”

“You were held at knifepoint,” You grasped the hand that held your jaw. Gently and slowly to make sure and emphasize her attention to you. “I would’ve bursted into the room and offered myself if I could’ve. But you did the best you did as a mother to protect your children.” You gave her another tight squeeze. 

“I had no other choice,” Her sobs slowly brewing. And the tears flowed and there was nothing you wanted to do other than comfort your dear sister. She was grieving like any mother. You would be present for her and give Helaena all of the world, to give away her sorrow. However, it is inevitable and you best offer her your condolences and feelings of heartbreak. Because you did love her children, Jaehearys and Jaeheara. The light and beacon of Helaena and Aegon's marriage. 

Helaena’s figure dwindled as she scrunched herself forward into a curling ball. The weight of her thoughts was too much. As a parent, she believed she failed the role she was meant to play. Her cries did not stop or steady in a rapid heartbeat. Any further, Helaena believes she would’ve acted impulsively if not for you, holding onto her shoulders. You were gentle against her tragic and frail body when you allowed her head and shoulders to rest against your chest. You’re silent in the comfort you gave. Because no words could pursue more than your actions. Being the more responsible and maternal figure, you became a weeping shoulder for Helaena to spout the rest of her worries and anguish. 

You wonder what Aegon and his sorrows are. 

Criston Cole was in a predicament. He failed as a Kingsguard to protect the royal family. And because of his absence, a dead prince was left at the doorstep of the king. He’s ashamed in silence because he could not make any reason for where he was during the intrusion of the castle. His affair with Alicent was more than a passionate one. It consoled him and eased for the upcoming days of Aegon’s coronation and Rhaenyra’s horrific deeds. The knight was stuck in a situation he wished would not bring to the public eye. No one can know of his relations with the Queen Regent. Not when times were suspenseful and dire as to who to trust in the castle. 

And so, after he challenges Ser Arryk to do the impossible and slay the Black Queen within her quarters of Dragonstone, he desires to focus on his plans with the king. The afternoon following the prince’s funeral, Ser Criston smoothes out the ends of his locks, recomposing his hysterical manner against the twin knight. Of, the accusations of treason against the king and the knight’s code. He should be honoring the Kingsguard words at the back of his sleeves by now. For all that has occurred to him, Criston wants to prove to the king he is capable of being essential. 

The summer breeze is faint and noticeable to those in the Red Keep. It’s open corridors and windows, it is the perfect spot for sunlight. The Kingsguard makes his way to Aegon’s chambers, where he plans to inform his schemes of sending Ser Arryk away to Dragonstone. In hopes, it would please His Majesty of the constant restless nights he has experienced. 

But he nearly misses you. It takes a second for Ser Criston to take a step back and look back at what you have been doing. You, the princess, looking out of place in the training area of the stables. Where knights and stable boys fight and practice their combat. It was a place you’re likely forbidden to be, however, it has never stopped you. The knight knows of your ambitions to fight like your brothers. You’re eager, more confident than your siblings to practice. He had suggested once to the Queen that she should allow you use of the sword. For self-defense and hobbies. 

You practically begged Alicent to hold a sword in your hands. Your cute chubby cheeks as a small child were something he remembered sometimes. You were so eager then. He could still see it occasionally when you ventured to the training area, staring at the knights practicing their moves and defenses. 

“Are you alright, princess?” Ser Criston appears behind you and you’re suddenly aware he must’ve been standing behind you for some time. He knows you come here to think and be reminded of the past. “The morrow has been rather bleak has it not?”

“Rather too bleak,” You groan, crossing your arms and rubbing your forehead in weariness. You’re aware the Kingsguard is not allowed to probe your troubles further but you rather indulge. “The day grows weary for the wavering support of the other Houses.” A quiet nod of endearment is seen from the knight as he reminisces about why they had exhibited the funeral exactly. To spread rumors and weaken the queen bastards' claim.

“It will help us in the long run, princess,” He steps forward as you turn to stare at his gentle Dornish features. Maybe in another lifetime, you would’ve fallen for him if he wasn’t a knight.

“Is that what the Queen Regent said?” A switch and it was like your tone turned to bitterness the moment you mentioned your mother. Ser Criston feels his heartache at your sentiments to the Queen. She was your mother and loved you very much. Something you can’t seem to appreciate whenever you open your mouth in front of the council. While she has complained and spouted worries of your deterring interactions, you’ve taken glory in the distance between you and your mother. Ser Criston hopes one day you will reprimand that relationship. 

“No,” 

“Tell me, why do you value her opinion so much?” He eyes at you shaking your head with a heavy scowl of disgust. Your hatred towards your mother ran cold and poisonous, under the depths of your hard-spoken shell of a heart. Maybe some part of you did care about the Queen. If there was, Criston had never been able to witness it, you’re too stubborn. And you know Alicent cherishes him deeply. 

“She has a kind heart,” The Dornish man cannot more than understand why you probe his opinion of your mother. Were you suspicious? He’s served your mother for nearly a decade and gained her trust as her right-hand protector. Yet where was he when an intruder entered the castle grounds and left Helaena traumatized and crying? 

You snarl a mocking laugh, “A kind heart?” You’re staring at the Queen’s protector with discontent and failure. “She plots and schemes to gain the people's trust over my brother’s claim. What more is she than the Hand’s right-hand puppet.” This is an alarming accusation because Ser Criston knows Alicent does not trust her father with her boys and daughters. You were an example of that. Whoever she plots with, he knows she takes into consideration who is affected the most. She was the Queen of course. Dainty and considerate of her subjects. 

“Another advantage we have over Rhaenyra, princess,” He reminds you of the whole reason why the council decided such a thing. It’s grueling yet would sway the people in their favor towards the crown than that false liar of a ruler across the land. “Understand that everything she and the council decide is to gain more allies,” 

“By simply lying to the public and creating more web of lies for us to be stuck in,” You probe and your lilac orbs glow in a dark tone. You could not stand the ploy they had used for Jaehaerys funeral. You think it was anything but honorable, to use your nephew as a cause and leeway to denounce your half-sister. Ser Criston gives you a look, only a parent would hold when their child does something to disappoint them. And even though he was not your father, he still felt utterly responsible and devoted to you as one. He has seen you grow from a child to a woman. He’s aware of your struggle in your place at court. He was there when you desperately wanted to hold a bow and arrow, practically crying to your mother on your knees. He was also there to comfort you when you accidentally drove your dragon into a terrible accident. Criston Cole felt some kind of platonic love over you, despite you never feeling the same way. ‘

Yet he couldn’t help but agree with you. “You’re right, princess. But it is the only way to convince the townsfolk of our cause. We need their support to win this coming war.” He sees your shoulders slumped, most likely growing tired of talking back and forth of their intention to false news. You hated how everyone agreed to it wholeheartedly. 

“We need more than the support of the townsfolk to win a war,” Your lips turn to a thin line, contemplating all the reasons why you had to be on the wrong side of justice. “We have dragons, that is how we win a war.” 

Nightfall was as unanticipated as it was wanted. The funeral and rumors from the council made it unbearable to walk past servants and nobles without being reminded of it. There were many times you wished to stop in front of the people and shout in their faces. There would be no denying it all. However, you were done with it. You were tired of receiving the same piece of news and rumors. It made you hereditarily furious and petty like a child. But no violence has been spilled. Instead, you could only clench your palms, aggressively and move on with a faint scowl. A puff or two would break your cover. 

Moreover, the servant girls and maids knew what made you tick. The type of gossip you hate to talk and listen about. Since you’ve lived in the castle for the entirety of your life span. So regardless of whether they spoke of today’s events or not, people knew you were not in a great mood. More or less you were agitated, imitating, and not to be consoled.

You made it your routine to visit Helaena before going to bed. When you were younger, you and your sister often paid visits to your mother and sometimes your father if present. Queen Alicent would soothe your worries and nightmares while Viserys sat in silence, unable to speak due to the pain. Yet now, that was before you and Helaena slept in the same room. She was Queen now and had a separate room with her children. It was you who made it customary to ease her worries at night and say goodnight to her children. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, her beautiful children. Even now, after everything had happened, you wanted to honor your promise to visit the new Queen. 

The granite tiles were cold. You could feel it despite wearing soft padded shoes. Your garments were loose and free from the restraints and pains you’d worn for the day. But somehow it made you feel anxious and oddly vulnerable out in the open. Of course, it was natural to feel this way after what happened. But everything, even the times you felt the most safe was now invaded by thoughts of fear and concern. You swallowed whatever security you had and moved along the balcony inside King’s Landing. The royal rooms were all the same, but you knew which belonged to whose. You knew which rooms were your mother’s, your sister’s, which had the best hiding spots, and which had the quickest way out of the city. 

Although whose room brought you the most curiosity was the one in front of you. In the distance, where you stood, a figure of green exits out of the room and disappears into the darkness. Your mother. Alicent did not seem to be in a rush to have exited Aegon’s chambers nor did she look content coming out of it. It looked as though she had mistaken his room for another. 

Hastily your paused movements began to quicken. As you tip-toed towards the doors of your king, you twist the knob and a soft creak makes you curse out of anonymity. The bed chamber was dimly lit and the fireplace illuminated a gorgeous orange dew that covered half the room in warmth. The drapes of the windows were slightly closed, making the silhouette of Aegon, hunched over more evident. He leans in a cushioned chair by the fire and you can see his unsecured locks, shape the sides of his face. 

You quickly realize your brother’s sobbing, saddening and heartbreaking. For all the things he was, Aegon did not deserve to lose a child. You understood very much as him that Alicent had planned his coronation for a long time. Yet now that it has happened, tragedies come down like dominoes in a panic. Lucerys has died on dragonback. And now Jaehearys was murdered in cold blood. Both are innocents from the result of this pretentious battle for power between Rhaenyra. It is when you shut the door behind you with a faint click, you make yourself known to the king. 

“Aegon,” It’s a whisper with no silence. Covering his face to shield his tears, Aegon does not dare to look at you. He looks ashamed and can only stare down, lost and in failure.  You understand his dismissal of your presence. No one should see their king as weak like this. Not even his closest kin and mother. Only that his mother has witnessed this scene a multitude of times over the years of watching over her son. Still, you were not the type to witness Aegon at such a low point like this. 

Nothing. You wanted nothing from him, seconds ago only curious about his profound discussion with your mother, who did not seem to speak to him at all. Something about that makes your heart churn at the Queen Regent. You walk slowly and only when you finally face him, his gaze is still on the floor, unable to lift his head to say anything. Go away! You’re making a fool out of yourself. 

Instead, you closed the gap that separated the two of you. You clasped his neck and held it firmly in a consoling manner. His weeping only grew louder the moment he felt your touch, so comforting and soft. His hands eventually wrap themselves around your waist and he rests the side of his head against your stomach.

Only you can soothe him like this. It’s discovered to be the most effective way for Aegon to calm down, your touch perhaps was the solution to it. It was never touched upon, this consolation you had with him, there were rare occasions when the prince had become too drunk to return to his quarters to have gone to yours instead. There were times when your brother wanted to hide and be away from your conniving mother and her insults. Sometimes he’d cry, drink, or rant about her inconsolable expectations of him. Because truly you are the closest to understanding that feeling. The feeling of being unwanted and as though you were not doing enough of your duty to care. Of course, you cared, you did everything for your family. Still, it could never be enough to put a smile on your mother’s face. And more evidently that of your grandsire. 

“I’m sorry,” You let out a dreary breath, rubbing Aegon’s hair. He sniffles, allowing his forehead against your stomach. He closes his eyes and lets out a sad laugh that turns into a cry. He’s lost so much in a matter of days. No one to comfort him, and his wife silently grieving in her own time. His mother forever abandoned her efforts. And his brother disappears with no explanation. Now here you were, the one he found relying on.

“I tried so hard,” He cries out, snot and tears making his speech muffled and disproportionate. “Yet everything has backhanded and slapped me in my face!” You feel a quiver on your lips when he speaks those words. Your heart burns and aches and maybe finally, you can put away your pride and be gentle. You reach behind where his hands are secured by your waist. Sliding them down to allow you to kneel to his level. With his red-shot eyes and puffy cheeks, Aegon looks like he wants to give up everything now and then. He’s never looked so weak and tiresome. 

“I know,” You shaped his face with your palms, sliding your thumbs over his cheeks. They are dried of momentary tears when he looks so desperate to cling onto anything to save him. “And as king, it is a heavy toll. Jaehearys will know you did everything you could to avenge his death.”

“It has gone to madness,” His lilac orbs staring at you with such intensity and possibly love. Torn and twisted, you know this is a wife’s duty to be her husband. Though under Helaena and Aegon’s relationship, they have never loved each other. They were husband and wife, yes but only under law. Helaena held no love but did genuinely care for his well-being. And you had shown more devotion towards his feelings than anyone had done within days. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“You can start by figuring who and who not to trust at court,” You exhale, heart beating like a bass drum when you feel his hands circle yours. “Know who your trusted allies are and destroy Rhaenyra’s support.” 

“Then I need you,” He leans forward, his silver locks tangled in between yours. His gaze was wild and desperate for any kind of refusal you might have. “I need you at court. By my side, you are as essential as any of us there.” It felt as though nothing in the world mattered next only the two of you at this moment. At this important moment, you felt a surge of adrenaline and an urge to comply with his heeds. Your eyes momentarily trail to his lips before discerning back to his eyes. 

“Because I have a dragon,”

“Because you are my blood, you are a strategist and the smartest woman I know in the Seven Kingdoms,” His dried tears make him even more angelic. Perhaps in another lifetime, you two would’ve married instead and dealt with it more easily. Your mother knew it. Your gransdire did too. Despite it all, they all disapproved of you for your lack of devotion to duty. What more can you offer than your service directly to the crown? To the council? It makes you grin in pride for his acknowledgment of you. 

“Of course, my king,” And with those words, he closes the gap between your lips. Sorrowful no way but profound in a new kind of serge to overcome the tragic delay. You were right in front of his eyes all along. You, the second-born princess of Alicent and Viserys' marriage. Quip with a sharp tongue and tactics for how long you’ve studied the art of it. You were no ordinary princess. You were a fighter, a warrior who well enough wanted bloodshed as much as him.

[radiance1]

There was a boy walking towards the invading army.

There was a civilian child walking towards the invading army from the infinite realms lead by their tyrannical ruler. The Justice League tried to stop force their way through, save the boy.

Instead of that, however, they were blocked by multiple ghosts, all hellbent on not leaving them alone. Superman tried to get close to the kid? Piles upon piles of ghosts knocked him back. Wonder Woman? The same thing happened.

The thing was, that wasn't even the ground army who did it. But the ones in the sky.

So the kid was walking towards an entire army by himself. One hellbent on taking over Earth and have no qualms about ending the short life of a human boy.

Instead of watching a child die, a life they failed to save. Something else happened.

The army parted for him.

Just as Moses parted the Red Sea, the same happened with the ghosts. They made a clear-cut line for him to walk straight towards their king with no obstacle, even clearing the way of anything that could pose as one.

Again, the Justice League tried to go down to drag the boy away, only to again be denied by the ghosts flying through the sky. Only to stop chasing as soon as they retreated a certain distance.

The ghosts stood still, and only moved as they got close, unlike their previous acts of causing havoc and mayhem. So, the Justice League, as much as they didn't want too, stood still and watched.

The boy stood at a stop before the king, painfully tiny in comparison to the massive ghostly tyrant standing before him with his arms crossed.

"Yo, dad." The boy said, and the Justice League froze in shock.

===

"Yo, dad." Danny lifted a hand up in greeting, before dropping that hand to rub at his neck. "Funny seeing you here, I guess."

"Phantom..." Pariah Dark's voice was soft yet booming and seemed to echo throughout the battlefield. "We meet once again on the field of battle, come to challenge me again, little one? Without your armor, no less?" Pariah tilted his head to the side slightly, questioning.

"Oh that? Yea that got destroyed ages ago," Danny shrugged, as if not having it didn't bother him at all. "Parents couldn't exactly, you know, finish it. Plus, they had other things to work on, so they just decided to scrap the thing altogether." He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged again. "So, yea..."

Pariah looked the boy over, his eyes hardening and he clicked his tongue at what he saw.

"You come here, not with armor," Pariah began, strength in his voice and a fire (literally) in his eyes. "Nor a weapon, or a shield, and no allies of any kind-"

"Well those guys are there" Danny pointed behind him, straight at the Justice League.

"-Walk up to a hostile force with no gauge of their strength." But Pariah just barreled on as if the Justice League were an afterthought. "And face their leader and do not expect to come to harm!?" The Ghost King scowled, and the Justice League tensed.

But just tilted his head slightly. "Well, are you going to harm me?" He asked.

Pariah Dark blinked, then whispered. "I could, child. I could kill you." He put a strong emphasis on the word kill.

"You could," Danny nodded. "But are you going to hurt me?"

The Ghost King remained silent, but his gaze intensified.

Danny shrugged, this time with a smile. "See? You wouldn't hurt me so it's fine. Ya big softie."

Pariah's scowl intensified. "I am not soft, child."

"Oh really?" Danny leaned forward and his smile took on a more playful edge. "Then what's you're reason for visiting Earth, hmmmm?"

"To wage war and fight against this world's mightiest heroes." The Ghost King answered quickly.

"Annnnnnnd?"

The king remained silent for a moment and Danny stepped forwards before he face planted onto concrete. "C'mon, dad. Tell me the other reason you came here." Danny crossed his arms, mimicking the Ghost King's pose.

They stared each other in the eyes for a moment, before Pariah looked off the side with green dusting his cheeks. "You have not visited in 50 years, son..." He whispered, but everyone heard it.

"Hah! Knew you missed me!" Danny said shamelessly with a satisfied and smug smile.

"And your father forced me out of the realms because I upset him." Small embers started igniting themselves on the tips of the king's hair.

Silence echoed over the battlefield, before Danny burst out laughing. Pariah Dark's hair fully exploded into green fire as he reached a hand to cover his face. "Of course, alongside the shameless and cheekiness, you get Clockwork's sense of humor as well..."

The Ghost King, at least this very moment, seemed more and more like a tired dad than some fearsome, tyrannical Ghost King.

[say-al0e]

Electric Touch

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!

Summary: Following your marriage to Prince Aemond, you did not imagine there would be a bedding ceremony. Nor did you imagine yourself falling so quickly for the one-eyed prince. But you quickly learned he was more than met the eye. | Ft. Anon request for "“What part of I want you and only you do you not understand?” + “Love makes you weak but, god, I’d rather be weak with you by my side than face a life without you.” Warnings: Bedding ceremony, PinV, guarded Aemond, Aegon is an asshole (briefly, then he's gone), one mention of death in childbirth (not graphic, very brief), allusion to Aemond's brothel trip. Anything I missed, let me know and I'll tag it. Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader (wife!Reader) Word Count: 5.1k Requests are Open | HotD Taglist

The fire blazing in Aemond’s eye was not what you expected. It was not fueled by desire, a lust for his new bride or the exciting conquest of claiming your maidenhead as you’d long been warned. It was not bright or joyous, a fire befitting the occasion of your wedding night. Instead, it was dark - angry, a wild blaze threatening to torch everything in its path with little regard for the consequences.

Though your new husband had been nothing but kind to you, polite and even occasionally charming, for the first time since stepping foot into King’s Landing, you finally understood why so many tended to avert their gaze lest they face Aemond’s ire. 

Before you stood Aemond One-Eye, a fierce dragon rider whose presence commanded attention, and you struggled to keep from withering beneath his gaze as you held his dark look with an even one of your own.

Around you, his apartments teemed with life. Drunken revelers laughed as they surged into the room and circled the pair of you, some of them shouting tawdry jokes while others lamented the loss of the right to the first night. Regardless of their mood, it seemed as if every man in the realm fought to be at your side in a room that once felt so spacious but now left you struggling to catch your breath as they began tugging at pieces of your clothing.

As many hands clumsily tugged at well-tied laces and the heavy fabric of your gown, a few highborn ladies - friends you’d made in the short time you’d been at Court - dutifully removed Aemond’s clothes with much less vigor than their husbands or brothers or cousins.

Aegon led the charge, grin on his lips and breath reeking of wine as he leaned in close. Aemond’s gaze faltered for only a moment, turning to his brother and flashing a warning even the drunkest of men could read very clearly, before it returned to you as Aegon pointedly ignored him. Your drunken good-brother chose, instead, to tip your chin with fingers sticky with wine and draw your gaze away from your husband.

“Do not worry, good-sister,” he began, voice loud, despite his performative attempt at a whisper. He spared Aemond a look, eyes glinting with a mirth that bordered on malice - before he returned his gaze to you. “I made sure my brother was well-educated in the art of pleasure but should you find yourself wanting, you need only say the word.”

By design, you were not given the chance to respond. The last of your garments was removed from your body and Aegon released his grip on your chin to grab your waist. 

The sea of revelers parted. Amidst a cacophony of cheers and jeers, a few murmurs as to how it was a shame your father had agreed to wed you to a man they saw as less than whole, Aegon and one of his friends carried you through the crowd and deposited you into Aemond’s bed.

It was only when you were settled amongst the furs and linens that they were all finally ushered out of the room.

If you were honest, it surprised you that Aemond allowed the bedding ceremony in the first place. The idea was put forth by his brother, a suggestion he’d barely blinked an eye at, but it was plain to see just how adversely the entire spectacle affected him as he approached the bed.

Aemond Targaryen, the very image of his house’s beauty and fire, stood before you with his face a mask of composure you had yet to see fully slip. There were cracks, glimpses into the churning abyss that lingered just beneath the calm surface, and you could see them beginning to spread as a jeer from the crowd echoed just beyond the steel and wood of the door.

There was a flash of hurt, a glimpse so brief you felt certain you’d imagined it, before he swallowed and his jaw tensed. He steeled himself, his resolve, and you could see the mask slip back into place.

“My prince,” you began, voice far quieter than you intended as you sat upright to meet his gaze. “I do not-“

A hum escaped your new husband as he stepped closer, pressing a knee into the soft surface beneath you and shaking his head slightly. “We will speak when there is no crowd standing guard just outside, waiting for evidence our marriage has been consummated. For now, we must fulfill our duty as husband and wife.”

There was an edge of finality in his tone, no room left for argument as he reached for you. Though his touch was not harsh, not as insistent or eager as the men who’d taken great joy in stripping you bare, it was firmer than you’d expected. In the weeks of your courtship, he’d lended an arm as you descended the steps in the garden or offered a hand as you climbed them - each touch soft, almost tentative, and as brief as could be considered proper. 

It was wistful, possibly even naive, to believe the softness of his touch was affection or that it would continue as he pressed you back into the pillows. Aemond was not an outwardly affectionate man, that much you knew to be true, nor was he used to being treated so tenderly. His life had been one lived in a gilded cage, acquiescing to everything expected of him with little argument and even less connection. Love would not come easy to him, nor would affection.

Only time would bring him comfort, trust in you and the ability to be vulnerable, so you made no argument as he settled himself over you. 

The dim candlelight made it difficult to see much - and you wondered how Aemond might react if you allowed yourself to savor the sight of him - but you took the brief chance you were offered to study him. Tall, lithe, muscular; he looked every bit the fearsome dragon rider and well-trained swordsman. Pale hair cascaded over his shoulders, a curtain that cast shadows over the sharp features of his face, but you could clearly see the intrigue in his eye as you lifted your hand to gently cradle his jaw.

Had you not been studying him so closely, so desperate to see some glimpse of warmth beneath the cool surface of your new husband, you might’ve missed his sharp inhale or the way his eye narrowed. Had you not been so enthralled by his appearance, you might’ve missed the way he swallowed or the split second he allowed himself to lean into your careful touch before the impassive mask returned.

Friends, some long married with babes while others had just wed, whispered and giggled when they shared what you could expect. Most of your friends lamented the act itself, thankful only that it often seemed to be over quickly,  as many of their husbands were older lords in need of young wives to produce heirs. It seemed that few cared much at all about their wives’ pleasure and you’d wondered throughout your courtship if Aemond - though young, a man of your own age - might prove similar.

Now that the time had come to find out, you still felt wholly uncertain.

For a long moment, Aemond simply studied you. The deep lilac of his eye traced your face, shadowed by his hair and framed by your own locks - now free from the style your handmaids worked so hard to perfect - and his lips parted. He seemed poised to speak, though before he could, the sound of fists pounding the wood of the door broke whatever spell existed in the solace of the room.

Loud jeers from a drunken crowd reminded you both of your purpose, the reason you had been stripped bare for half the kingdom to see, and Aemond was the first to act.

Though you hoped for little and expected even less, Aemond wanted nothing more than to prove everyone wrong. He wanted to prove that he could be a husband, an adequate lover, a man who had everything and more. You had no way of knowing his motivation, not then, but you could see the flame in his eye as his hand fell to your hip.

With the hand still cradling his jaw, you managed to hold him in place as you leaned up and pressed your mouth to his. Since speaking your vows earlier in the night, you’d managed to steal two chaste kisses from your new husband - one just after the ceremony, in the few seconds you had alone before the feast began; the other, tucked in a corner before you were whisked away for the bedding. He responded well to both, stepping just an inch closer and allowing his lips to linger for a long moment, and you were pleased to find that he responded just as well to this kiss.

The ladies at court often lamented their husbands’ lack of skill or desire to share a kiss. They all sighed and confessed that the men found no use for it, no fun in it. It made you wonder if Aemond was humoring you, allowing you the kiss that seemed almost tender in nature, in return for your maidenhead - for your hand, your house’s newly pledged loyalty - but you knew well enough that your new husband was not one to indulge in anything he did not want to.

Hope bloomed, then, just beneath your ribcage that he might, someday, even grow to enjoy it as much as you suddenly found that you did.

Calloused hands began to explore your skin, touch light for a fleeting moment - almost reverent, almost tentative - before it grew steadier, more certain. The tips of his fingers left a path of fire in their wake, his skin always running hotter than anyone you’d ever met, and you nearly expected to find a visible path seared over the expanse of your torso as his hands dipped to your thighs.

As of yet there had been little outward sign of affection from your husband - everything felt like a courtesy, the actions of a well-educated prince, chivalrous out of duty only - and you knew that it might be wishful thinking to believe the slow drag of your husband’s hand up your inner thigh was anything more than slight trepidation. But you swore you could see the anger that burned so bright only moments ago morph into something closer to lust, desire, need.

Aemond’s fingers pressed firm into the plush of your thighs as he parted them and you bit the inside of your cheek to smother your gasp as his sharp gaze finally raked over your bare skin.

For all the wandering eyes, the lustful gazes that burned into your skin as so many lords of the realm crowded into the small room, it struck you in that moment that Aemond waited until you were alone to truly look. He waited until you were pliant beneath him, until you’d sated your own curiosity about him, to allow himself a glance at anything other than your face.

And despite the insistent jeers of the crowd beyond the door, he seemed determined to take you as he wished.

“They are expecting to hear us,” he reminded you as his fingers drew closer to your center. “Do not deprive us all of your charming voice.”

A handful of compliments had been levied at you from your new husband - more in regard to your intelligence than your most beautiful gowns, though one had ended with him calling you beautiful - but you still felt your cheeks heat as his fingers grazed your slit.

The swipe of his fingers was almost clumsy, less self-assured than he always seemed to be, but the thought gave you some comfort. Neither of you could disappoint the other if you were on somewhat equal footing.

Aemond’s touch grew more insistent, more assured, from the moment his fingers grazed the small bundle of nerves that wrenched a gasp from your throat and had your nails pressing into the muscle of his shoulders. He focused there, thumb circling the now aching pearl, as his fingers gathered the increasing slick. The deep lilac of his eye had almost vanished, replaced nearly entirely by lust-blown black, but it remained on your face - watching intently with every noise that spilled from your lips.

As desperately as you wanted to close your eyes, to hide from the intensity in his gaze, you found yourself unable to look away from his face. The sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the barely there flush that set high upon his cheeks; he was beautiful, regal, and you couldn’t help yourself.

“Gevi,” you breathed, hoping the word sounded as effortless falling from your own lips as it did from his. Your thumb brushed his cheek, just beneath his scar, and you could see the flash of an emotion you could not recognize in his eye.

For a moment, he remained silent, fingers slowing to a barely there press, before he tipped his head. Your hand slipped, fell to his jaw, and you realized it was calculated - purposeful - even as his gaze softened. “My clever wife,” he hummed, matter-of-factly, as the corner of his mouth lifted in something akin to a smile. “Full of surprises.”

A response formed on the tip of your tongue, nowhere near as witty as you hoped for, but the press of Aemond’s fingers into your core stole your breath and all coherent thought. The sensation was odd, unlike any you’d ever experienced, and you could feel your brows furrow as your body attempted to make sense of what was happening. It was not as unpleasant as you expected, nor as pleasurable as you hoped for, but you imagined that both would come in time.

Despite his appearance, his brusque manner, Aemond was not harsh. His touch was no longer soft, no longer tentative, and you could still feel the weight of his hands on your thighs despite his touch having moved, but he seemed to take note of the way you winced when his fingers began to press a little too quickly - a little too hard - and adjusted accordingly.

Soon enough, you found a delicate rhythm - an insistent press of his fingers, an exploration unlike any you’d ever felt, as you used the grip on his jaw to pull him into another kiss.

This kiss was different, heavier. It was hungry, a clash of teeth and tongue and noses that made the backs of your eyes sting. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, a bite harsh enough to draw blood, and you inhaled sharply as he lapped at the copper staining your lips. 

The copper tang seemed to spur Aemond on, remind him of his duty and the audience waiting for it to be done. He moved with a renewed vigor, with a confidence you’d quickly come to associate with him. His fingers pressed deeper, searching, and he only seemed content when you broke the kiss to fill the room with a breathless moan of his name. 

Warmth spread over your skin, a combination of his body heat surrounding you and your own pleasure coursing through your veins. Every swipe of his fingers, every circle of his thumb over the aching bundle of nerves, made the edges of your vision white and the air harder to obtain.

It was then, as your stomach tied itself into knots and your nails sank into the toned skin of his back - his shoulders, his chest, his arms; wherever you could reach, desperate for some tether to reality - that he replaced his fingers with the filling warmth of his cock.

With every noise that fell from your lips, the noise outside the door grew louder. It felt as if the whole of the realm waited just beyond the wood, ears pressed to the door, and Aemond seemed acutely aware of your audience. Gone were the tentative touches, the firm but still careful brushes of his hands. After a few careful initial presses of his hips to yours, he began to sink into you in earnest.

A cry of his name rang through the room, fanning the flames of the fire outside, and your body seemed trapped in the path of the blaze.

Every word of gossip you’d heard from friends seemed true, impossibly, all at once. There was an ache between your thighs, a stinging pain that replaced the pleasant ache of desire, and a dull pinch at your hip as Aemond’s fingers pressed into your skin. The entire room was too hot, almost stifling, and the noise rang in your ears. The tawdry jokes and laughter in the hall, the rustle of linen, the lewd sound of Aemond’s cock pressing into your center, the keening of your moans, the huff of his breath; it was almost too much.

Each sensation that washed over you was distinct but beginning to muddle together.

Despite yourself, your best efforts to take the affection given to you by your husband and appreciate them, you found yourself hoping for something softer, something easier, something better. 

Aemond was lost in that moment, stuck somewhere in the back of his own mind, and you could only whisper his name in hopes that he might allow you a moment to catch your breath.

“Aemond, I - please.” The whispered plea, gasped into the night air and barely audible over the cheers still echoing in the hall, seemed to break his reverie. It returned him to the moment at hand - the pinch of your brows as the ache between your thighs plagued you, the curve of your mouth as you fought to keep your composure, the sting of your nails biting into his shoulder - and gave him pause. 

The snap of his hips faltered, slowed from the near manic thrusts to something more even, and you eased the grip on his shoulder as you inhaled eagerly.

That deep purple gaze swept across your face, searching for something you could not readily provide, before he squeezed your hip in what you chose to interpret as an apology. You accepted it, easily, and offered him a tentative smile as he continued pressing forward - still firm, still deep, only slower now.

Giggles from the past, old whispers that there was real pleasure to be found in bed, began to return to the forefront of your mind as Aemond’s new pace began to replace the pinch and ache between your thighs with that devastating warmth you’d only just experienced. Everything felt too hot, too bright, too much, and the thought must have been clearly written across your face as Aemond hummed.

“Take your pleasure,” he encouraged, voice low in your ear as he leaned in close. “Then, I shall have mine.”

Warmth continued to flood your veins. Fire lapped at your skin, consuming you entirely, and you took no notice of the noise that escaped your parted lips as you allowed Aemond to continue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The end was as beautiful as you’d heard, as blissful, and you could feel yourself melting into the plush of the bed as goosebumps erupted across your skin and your heart thundered in your chest. All that mattered in that moment was Aemond; the weight of him atop you, the warmth of his skin as he pressed himself impossibly closer, the low rasp of his voice as he all but whispered expletives. 

That pleasure was only heightened by the warmth that flooded you as Aemond stilled atop you, a curse on his lips and head thrown back.

It was a beautiful sight - something worthy of committing to memory, something so beautiful you only hoped to see it again and again. And you only hoped your new husband felt the same as he tipped his head to study you once more.

Aemond lingered only for a moment, his gaze softer than you’d seen directed at you, before he pulled away. Another squeeze to your waist was the only affection he spared before he stood and pulled the white line from his bed. He shifted you carefully - almost tenderly - to remove the fabric then strode across the expanse of the room to the door.

Without ceremony, he wrenched it open and tossed the stained fabric into the crowd.

A loud cheer echoed through the halls, drunken revelers delighting in the evidence of your consummation, but was quickly cut off with the slam of the heavy door.

The crowd grew quieter, noise drifting back in the direction of the hall still filled with older revelers - opting to spend their time discussing matters best saved for an in-person meeting - and you took the brief moment to catch your breath as Aemond did the same.

For just a moment, he lingered near the small table that held a pitcher and glasses, before filling them with wine and bringing them to bed. He handed you one, nodded his acknowledgement to your thanks, and settled back onto the plush fabric at your side.

Silence fell over the room then, a welcome but almost overwhelming lack of sound after hours surrounded by a cacophony of noise. For the first time since you woke that morning, you found that you could hear yourself think.

Every thought centered upon your new husband.

Aemond Targaryen was a mystery. Rumors about him swirled through the realm and whispers abounded at court. None seemed to be in agreement, however.

Some thought him to be fierce, a fearsome warrior who would make a fine knight should he find himself so inclined. Others insisted that Vhagar was his only asset and that he was nothing more than a loyal hound devoted to his family. Others still insisted that the only person Aemond could ever be loyal to was himself and his own interests.

There were whispers that he was cold, unfeeling. There were rumors that he had no interest in anything other than books, that living people meant little to him. But you were beginning to see the truth.

Try as he might to hide it, the nature of his soul that he buried so deeply, you were beginning to see him for who he truly was.

Aemond wanted the things he’d never been given. He sought reassurance, comfort, love. He wanted to be wanted - truly wanted, desired; not needed because he possessed the largest, oldest dragon. And though your match began as a political alliance, you hoped to prove that he was worthy of his desires as you shifted closer and reached for his hand.

“Aemond,” you began, voice quiet as you hoped desperately he would not push you away, even as he tensed. To your relief - and surprise - he did not. Instead, he simply glanced at your linked hands before turning his full attention to your face. “Believe what you wish, but I am glad that it is you I married. I do not want Aegon or any of the other lords lingering about the castle. I did not accept this betrothal without thought and I hope that you will believe me when I say there is no other I could want.”

Though it was slight, you could see the raise of his eyebrow. So, with a sigh, you placed your cup onto the table and grasped his hand with both of your own.

“When my father made it known that he intended to offer you my hand, I was given more attention at court than I ever wanted. I never cared much for it all, but suddenly, it seemed as if everyone wanted me to join them.” With a weary sigh, you began to trace nonsensical patterns over the back of his hand. “Everyone had a tale of Prince Aemond they wished to share. Some heard word from a brother or cousin, others whispered tales from their own trips to the Red Keep. I heard so many whispers about you that I began to lose track of who whispered what. I have always held whispers in little regard but it grew so frequent that I nearly worried I might meet a monster.”

The moment you paused, Aemond hummed thoughtfully. “Targaryen’s are said to be closer to gods than men. Perhaps monsters are included.”

“Perhaps,” you agreed, pausing your tracing to glance up at him from beneath your lashes. The deep lilac of his eye met yours and you felt your cheeks heat. “But you are no monster. You are just a man. I was given the chance to reject our union. One word, and I would’ve been spirited away to some lesser lord. But I chose to stay.”

“Why?”

It was a genuine question, accompanied by a look you recognized as being tinged with skepticism. In response, you smiled at him.

“Despite your flaws, real or imagined or embellished, I find myself drawn to you. You have the beauty and fire of your house. You are proud, but not a braggart, quiet but not without charm. You are a noted swordsman and a dragon rider, yet you take no pleasure in tourneys. You are young and capable, intelligent and thoughtful. Of all the qualities one could want in a husband, you possess most."

This earnest admission was met with yet another hum of acknowledgement from your husband, a thoughtful rumination as he allowed the compliment to linger for a moment. Only then, after seeming to savor your words, did he ask, “Which qualities do I lack, wife?”

Had you not grown so accustomed to studying every twitch of his brows, every curve of his mouth, you might’ve missed the hint of a smile he wore. It was a question asked in jest, teasing, and you allowed yourself a laugh.

“Time shall tell,” you assured him, returning his barely-there smile with a soft one of your own. “Though, I would never dare call you perfect, lest your head swell to the size of Vhagar’s.” Aemond allowed you a glimpse of a true smile then, fleeting, but you savored the sight just the same. It brought a strange warmth to your chest, wound the hope that bloomed beneath your ribcage into a tendril that squeezed your heart, and you offered his hand a gentle squeeze. “I understand why we were wed. But I have hope that even if we do not find love in one another, we shall find friendship at the least.”

“You would not ask for more?”

“Men’s battles are fought in fields, at sea, on dragon back,” you answered, carefully turning his hand in yours to trace his palm. “A woman’s battle is fought abed. If I were to die there, my only hope is that it would be for someone I cared for, someone who cared for me.”

That lilac eye studied your face once more, more intently, and you could see the weight of your words settling on his shoulders as he realized that he was no longer alone, nor did you have any misunderstandings as to what this life meant for you both. Though he was the spare, pushed down in the line of succession by his brother’s children, he was expected to have a family and in return for giving him heirs, all you asked of him was companionship.

“I believe you shall be a fierce warrior,” he declared, gaze dipping to your fingers gently sweeping across his heated skin.

“And I believe you are all I could have hoped for in a husband,” you confessed, hoping he might agree - that he might declare you to be all he could’ve hoped for in a wife.

And though he seemed unopposed to you, he instead asked, “Do you believe that truly?”

“I do,” you confirmed, pausing your tracing to meet his eye. “I’ve long been afraid of marriage, of becoming trapped with someone who cared little for me, but I am more afraid that growing to love you will be easier than I ever imagined.”

“Love makes you weak,” he all but whispered, though the words held little conviction and even less weight. They were the words of someone afraid, someone unused to love and affection, and you met them with a gentle smile.

“Perhaps it is a good thing we are married, then. I believe love makes you stronger. My father loved my mother and he fought like hell to return to her each and every battle he waged. Love provides motivation,” you offered, only to be met with another thoughtful hum. Rather than pressing, you shifted the conversation after a moment of silence. “Why did you allow the bedding ceremony?”

Aemond paused for a moment and seemed to consider his answer. “I had every intention of forgoing it,” he confessed, free hand tracing the lip of his glass. “Then, we met and it was selfish, I suppose. I have something most men in King’s Landing will covet - a comely wife from a noble house who has made me the sole object of her affection. Allowing the ceremony provided an opportunity to boast, to show that while they may look, you are mine. No other will know the pleasure of your company.”

The reasoning behind his allowance was understandable, even more so when you considered that he was the second son of a man who scarcely remembered his sons in the first place. It was not often he was given something others desired, not often he could be envied, and you could not begrudge him the opportunity he’d taken.

“I am yours,” you agreed, lifting his hand to place it over your heart. “While I believe love will make us stronger, I would not mind being seen as weak, just so long as you are by my side. Others may whisper or believe what they wish but know, lord husband, that I want you and you alone. I look forward to the future and hope the gods bless us with a long and happy marriage.”

“I shall leave faith to you,” he declared, though the words were softer than you believed he intended. “But I have little doubt that you will be left wanting.” Aemond turned, then, and removed the eyepatch covering his eye. The sapphire glimmered in the dim candlelight and you squeezed his hand to keep yourself from reaching out for him.

“Gevi,” you repeated, smiling upon the full face of your new husband.

Aemond’s mouth curved once more, a touch more noticeable, before he sighed and shifted to lie amongst the pillows. “Sleep, dear wife,” he encouraged, pulling you into the pillows at his side.

With the morning sun, your new life would begin. As tentative as you’d once been, you no longer felt any fear. There was far to travel, much to be gained in the way of your new husband’s trust, but you imagined he was right; neither of you would be left wanting, so long as you had the other.

_________________________________________________

Author's Note: It's my first time writing for Aemond (or anything GoT/HotD related) so I hope it's alright. I didn't want to go too soft but I also didn't want to go too mean/cold? I dunno. Let me know what you think! :)

[just-a-ghost00]

You through their eyes

This reading is written in first person / from the POV of the person you’re enquiring about. I tried to keep the text as neutral as possible so that anyone could relate to it. This can apply to any type of romantic connection, whether you are in contact with this person or not. It can be a past person or a future person.

Group 1 - Deer

Cards : 4 of wands, King of pentacles, 9 of pentacles, ace of wands, 2 of swords, 6 of swords

Right from the moment our eyes met, I knew. I knew that you had my heart wrapped around your finger. I knew that you were the one. As soon as I saw you, I felt the urge to ask for your hand. To claim you as my forever person. My ride or die. I knew that I wanted to have a home with you. That I wanted to build a legacy with you. I knew that you were the one. That you had it all. The good looks, the brains, the strength to keep up with me through thick and thin. I knew that I couldn’t get rid of you even if I wanted to. That no matter how hard I’d try I could never forget you nor get you out of my system. You were just engraved in me like a tattoo on my skin meant to remind me of my truth : that I was meant to be yours just as much as you were meant to be mine. That true love is real and is in the shape of you. I knew that I had to have you right away. And by God did I want you. I craved you more than I could ever fathom and it scared me. I never wanted anyone so bad. The reactions you birthed in me my love, were so sweet and addictive I feared I couldn’t hold myself back if I were to cross the line. I didn’t want you to hate me. It’s just visceral. The way you get me. The way you come under my skin and tease me. The way you look at me with those innocent eyes of yours. Those beautiful orbs that I drowned myself in. How your lips tremble at the vulnerability of your unexpressed emotions. How your tongue slips through your lips when you get nervous. How soft your tone is whenever you are around me. God, you make me crazy. Right from the start I was stuck in a dilemma. Fighting with my head and my heart, trying to figure out which way to go, what the hell to do to get to you without hurting nor scaring you. How to live on knowing that I couldn’t have you. Knowing that I would have to stay away from you. The moment our gazes embraced each other, you had my fate in your hands and my heart held hostage. And I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I tried to move on and shield both of us from the hurt this could provoke. But being away from you is nearly impossible. You’re as essential to me as the air I breathe. Every minute I am reminded of you. When I met you, I knew I had to do right by you or you wouldn’t let me in. It was obvious that you were well educated and mature enough to cut me off if I ever tried anything you deemed as wrong. It was obvious that you didn’t need me and were doing very well on your own. That you could have anything and anyone you wanted at the snap of your fingers. But I just couldn’t ignore you. Something about you called to me and made me want to pursue you like no other, no matter how you could have perceived me, no matter if people thought I was a fool. I wanted to take the risk and chase you because a part of me was convinced I would never get the chance to see you again if I didn’t.

Confirmation signs : Taurus, Aries, Gemini, rainbows, important bodies of water such as rivers and seas, long distance connections, feeling like you’re the yin to the other’s yang, number 14, Sagittarius, Jupiter, travels, sunsets and sunrises ��✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Group 2 Tree

Cards : ace of pentacles, tower, 10 of cups, 6 of cups, knight of cups, king of swords

You came into my life at the perfect timing. Like a breath of fresh air in the middle of a storm I didn’t realise I was stuck in until you arrived. And boy did you make some noise. You were like thunder. I was immediately electrified. You uprooted everything and anything I thought I knew. You completely changed the course of my life and to this days I still believe that is for the better. Ever since I met you I have never felt so happy and fulfilled. My life feels like a dream. You were so beautiful and pure it was impossible not to love you. You took my hand ever so gently, offered your help and guidance without expecting anything in return. You kept giving and giving, surrounding me with your warm and loving embrace I just felt so good. You are an angel, a miracle that I still can’t believe I met. I feel so lucky to have you by my side love. So happy. My love for you was already strong and kept growing as I got to know you. I was in awe with your soft demeanour, your tender touch, your caring approach and empathy for others. You were like royalty. So radiant and calm that for a mere second I thought I was in Heaven. Such a wonderful being like you surely cannot be real, I thought. But you are as real as the coin in my pocket and I was the one lucky enough to have you in my life. Can you believe that? To me you were like a life line. I didn’t know I was drowning until you took my hand and pulled me out of the mess I was in. I don’t know how you did it nor how you saw so clearly what I couldn’t but I am so grateful you did. Never once did you judge me nor hurt me. Never once did you question me nor doubt my essence. You kept supporting me and loving me even at my worst. When I couldn’t give you what you wanted you looked for it out on your own and patiently waited for me to catch up. When my heart was guarded and in pain, you cautiously weaved your way through the cracks of my armour and helped me heal. You soothed my fears and mended my wounds with such grace and humbleness that I fell in love harder than before. Your tender heart got the best of my reserved nature. The more time goes by and the more I think God sent you to lift me up. You are Heavensent. You are my other half the one I’ve been missing for so long. With you by my side I feel at peace, finally. I fell in love with your romantic side and your pure good willed heart. With your little dances whenever you’re happy and how you hum to our favorite songs to make yourself comfortable. How you bake in the kitchen with that little smile on your face, thinking I don’t see you. How you so effortlessly get me every time, even though I try my best to shut you out. You never give up on me though I am hard on you sometimes.

Confirmation signs : water signs especially Scorpio, letter K, meeting by the river, love at first sight, believing in soulmates, late night conversations, spiritual ramblings, water lilies and butterflies

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Group 3 - Daisies

Cards : The World, 7 of swords, 7 of cups, page of wands, 4 of wands, Death

You were so different than me that at first I felt like we were miles away from each other and had nothing in common. You seemed like the world was laying at your feet yet you wanted none of it. You seemed dangerous and so bad for my health and peace of mind. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. You were so mysterious, so intense that I had to dig further, dive deeper. You were so intriguing and in your presence it felt like the world was opening before me and my options were suddenly much better. I felt braver, more optimistic, successful. It felt like with you by my side I could conquer the world. You were so smooth, so supportive. So sensual and strong I felt so little next to you. There was a depth to you I couldn’t explain. An air of someone that was wiser than what they let on. Someone that had been through hell and rose out of it without a scratch. You were so precious and powerful. I had to have you. I thought my minds were playing tricks on me when you told me “I love you”. I didn’t think someone like you would want someone like me. I felt like a scam. However you didn’t seem to care. You kept moving on expecting for me to follow you and I did. You never once looked back because you knew. You knew I wouldn’t let you down. It’s like you could predict my every move and saw right through me. I was mesmerised by you. Bewitched. I felt like a clown but I couldn’t help but to love the feeling. You made me want to be more and expand in ways I never thought possible. You triggered a passion I didn’t know I possessed. Suddenly I was getting jealous imagining that someone else could have you and that made me furious. I would have done anything for you. I still would. God you make me crazy with how much I want you. I desired you so strongly I thought I was possessed. At some point I even thought you were manipulating me. I felt trapped and like I had no other option but to be yours. And then I gave in and realised there was no point in fighting this feeling. The more I fought and tried to repress my desire the harder I fell. You were so beau and I felt like a frog trying to hang out with a Queen. I felt so ridiculous. But in my heart I knew that I would spend the rest of my life with you, until my last breath. Because at the end of the day, that’s what I wanted and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I would chase you around the Earth if I had to if that meant being by your side. You are my muse.

Confirmation signs : fixed signs especially Scorpio, number 7, letter S, song All of me, cultural differences, beauty and the beast trope, red roses, ennemies to lovers trope

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

35 / 2.1k / shark merman Price and remora mermaid reader for mermay :)

...

Price isn’t stupid. He knows you’ve been following him since the early morning as he makes the rounds through his favorite reef. You’re stealthing poorly—just poorly enough that he knows you’re there, but you’re still small enough to dart into the reef every time he tries to get a good look at you.

He's been ignoring you and hoping you’ll take the hint to buzz off before he makes you buzz off.

You think you’re getting the hang of sneaking up on him when you turn a corner and lose him. And then he’s sneaking up on you.

You peek around the bright lumps of coral, wondering where he’s gone, when something blots out the sunlight above. You look up to see him—the long expanse of muscle and bulk on top and the smooth shark’s tail below—as he peers down at you.

You stiffen, pressing yourself to the sandy sea floor.

He scans you with his dark eyes to determine just what kind of creature has been following him. Not a threat, decides. Even as a mer. You’re too small. Too soft. You have no teeth to speak of. How laughable. And a tiny little thing, at that.

You straighten up, watching him circle you. You’d been looking for an opportunity just like this. That’s why you were tailing him. But now that his shrewd gaze is finally on you, you feel exposed.

He takes his time inspecting you. Then he swims a wide arc around you once more and lowers his clawed as if to touch you. You force yourself to stay still, your tail curled under you on the sand.

“You’ve been following me,” he says. It’s not a question.

“Yes.”

Price hooks one of his claws under your chin and pulls your head lightly upwards. You slowly rise as he tilts your chin up until you're suspended in the water in front of him.

"You should be scared of me,” he says.

You settle your own hands on his wrist in contentment. You look less like a meal being evaluated and more like a kitten being scratched under the chin. "Would you like me to be scared?"

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. He knows exactly what this is. You're a remora mer, which means you instinctively seek out and bond with bigger creatures. Even if that creature is an unfriendly shark mer. Surely you must know how dangerous it is to be within his reach?

"You're very big. You must be king of this reef,” you say.

He pauses as the praise washes over him. He knows how intimidating he is, and you should realize you're nothing but small, soft and fragile. But obviously your instincts for fawning and flattery are finely honed.

He can see the way your little self seems to be drawn to him. A remora mer, indeed. He's seen others like you, but they've always avoided him. He could just as easily kill you as he could accept your company.

There is something pitifully adorable about you. The way you tilt your head and expose your throat unwittingly is endearing. He knows it’s because your instincts are leading you to bond with him for the safety he provides. You're too willing.

"Do you lack the common sense to fear an apex predator?" he asks, voice low and amused.

"Yes," you respond obediently.

He can see the way your little body is pressing up to his hand, desperate to get closer. He moves his arm, gently guiding you closer to him. "Good," he rumbles softly before using two claws to stroke down the curve of your neck. "Very good. You're too small to survive my teeth, you know."

"Of course. Much too small. Your teeth are so big and sharp."

"And you're soft and weak. Soft as a piece of kelp, I bet." He gives the tip of your tail a flick, and his eyes glitter as you bob and shake out your tail fin at the touch. Fussy little creature. "You're not very good at what you're supposed to do, little mer."

You open up your eyes. "I'm not?"

"Following me for hours without even trying to ingratiate yourself to me," he growls. "You're supposed to busy yourself with my needs. Not..." He trails off as you tilt up into his touch, almost nuzzling his hand. He gives your forehead a light flick with his claw to make you pay attention. "Acting like some kind of pet."

You quickly smooth yourself down. "Of course. I know that." You dart closer, putting your small hands on his inner arm, his shoulder, his chest, inspecting him. Your fingers glide over him, brushing and scratching and plucking away bits of sea debris and dry skin. Grooming him. "I just thought you might want me to be scared of you first."

Oh. He’s enjoying this far more than he thought he would. For something so soft, you’re quite bold.

He presses on your hip to turn you slightly as you work, idly inspecting you in return. "Maybe later. Let’s see if you’re worth the effort first." He rests his chin on his other hand to watch you fuss over him. It's been a long time since he had any kind of attention on him. You dart around behind him and busy yourself with his hair next.

He leans into your touch when you start to untangle his hair. "You seem to enjoy this.”

“I do.”

“Good for you,” he drawls. "Are you good for anything else?"

"I'm good for lots of things." You move from his hair down to his tail, trying not to stare.

"Oh?" He reaches up and idly drags the back of his knuckles down your spine and over the fin there. He smirks as your fin flattens with the touch. "Like what?"

"Anything you can think of."

"Anything?" He gives a low rumble in his throat at your words. "Don't go promising favors you can't fulfill, little remora."

"Okay," you chime.

He grabs ahold of your tail fins. "And don't agree with every single thing I say, either. That makes you far too easy to manipulate."

"Yes, sir!"

He rolls his eyes. You really are a pushover. It's like you want him to be cruel to you. He lets go of your tail but twirls his fingers in the tip of your tailfins. "Is it your instincts that are making you so deferential? Or are you just a coward?"

You pretend to think about this for a moment. Then you respond, pleasantly, "Which do you prefer?"

"Mm, so you do have a brain."

"Me? No, surely that can't be. Not a thought in my head, sir. Promise."

He eyes you like a disobedient puppy. You're putting on this fairly convincing act, being a mindless, servile little thing, and it's confusing his instincts to know you're doing a fair bit of manipulation yourself to win his protection.

"Might prefer you a bit more brainless, actually," he says. He nudges the underside of your chin with his knuckle this time instead of his claw, noting how you drop what you were doing to follow the gesture as he guides you out in front of him again. "You're willing to do anything I ask, then? No questions?"

"Yes, sir.” You rest your much smaller body against his forearm again. “Anything.”

He looks down at how you submit willingly to his hand, taking in the sight of your small body pressed up against it. He feels something primal coil in his gut at the display. You let yourself fall under his control so easily. "What if I told you to open your mouth like a goldfish?" He brings his thumb up to your lip. "Would you?"

You open your mouth.

Interesting. He taps your lower lip with the tip of his thumb. "Wide," he murmurs. "Open up wide for me."

You open wider.

"Now bite."

You bite down around the tip of his thumb.

His lips twitch up into a smile at the feeling of you nibbling at him, the little scrape of your teeth. "Good. Harder."

You reposition your grip and chomp down in earnest this time. He grunts. Your teeth are smaller than his, but they're still sharp.

"There you go. Not bad for such a small mouth." He pulls it away, half-expecting you to start hollowing your cheeks on his thumb if he dawdles too long. "Have you ever had to deal with bigger fish?"

"Of course," you chirp. Like it's no big deal.

Price snorts. It's hard to imagine something like you doing anything but darting behind the nearest rock at the first sign of danger. “How many have you killed?"

"None."

"Right, I'm sure you ask them nicely to leave you alone," he says. "And do they listen?”

"Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't."

"And when they don't, what do you do? Do you fight back? Do you give up?"

"Well..." You wring your hands briefly. "You're going to handle it now, right? So what does it matter?"

"It matters to me." For some reason, the thought of you trying to fight back against a larger fish makes him restless. "You still need to know how to defend yourself."

You frown. "You're not going to do it for me?"

He scoffs, but you're starting to make him feel something close to concern for you. He doesn't know why the thought of you being defenseless irks him so. "Are you really that helpless? Are you really so soft that you just want me to fight all your battles for you?"

"I mean, you're a shark."

He huffs irritably at that, his annoyance with you outweighed by his annoyance with himself for feeling concerned over you. "Do you think I'm going to do everything for you just because I'm bigger and stronger?"

You smile at him, pleased.

Ah. He's the fool suddenly. He grabs you around the waist with just one of his big hands and brings you close, his voice lowering in warning. "Stop smiling, little fish."

"Okay," you chime.

"I told you to stop sounding so bloody agreeable. You make me want to bite you." He lifts you up in front of him to get a clearer look at your face. Your eyes are too wide, your smile is too sweet, your body is too flimsy. It's all infuriating to him. He’s been roaming the ocean a long time and he's grown comfortably hard and cold. You’re not changing that. "You have no self-preservation instincts at all, do you? You're just going to get yourself killed one day."

You settle into his hand comfortably. "Maybe so. Can I get you anything else, boss?"

You're hopeless, he decides. With how sweet and docile you are, he feels something clawing at the inside of his chest the longer he holds you.

Instead of answering you, he fits you against his chest, into the crook of his arm. There. Better. He can keep you closer this way without having to look at your silly doe eyes.

“Not now,” he says finally. “Maybe later.”

You lean into the position, tucking into the side of his chest like you're making yourself at home. "Okay, boss."

He can’t decide if he likes you calling him that or not. He can feel the way you nestle against him, settling in comfortably and making no effort to resist. You really are too easy to control. Just a little pull and you're molded against his side. He feels you start to smooth down some of his chest scales without even thinking. Grooming him. Nice and clean. Little busybody.

He's not used to being pampered, but feeling the tension start to bleed from his muscles under your touch… maybe it’s not so bad. He glances down at you, wondering how you're able to look so contented tucked up against him. His chest rumbles as you scratch near his throat. He lets his muscles relax under your hand.

You're an annoying little thing--too innocent, too naive, too sweet, and he conveniently forgets how capable you are of convincing him of that to win him over--but it's been too damn long since he's allowed himself to be comforted.

Maybe it would be alright to let you stay with him for a little while.

...

more Price / more mer au / masterlist tag

[serpentface]

The titular white calf of The White Calf and his adoptive mother.

The calf has no name, both in that he is a wild creature and in that he is destined for sacrifice. He is ceremonially referred to as Mitlamache, the face of God he will represent at the time of his death. He is also known as 'the white calf, 'the wild ox calf', 'the calf', 'that calf', 'the cow', 'stupid cow', 'bastard cow', 'little shit', 'cute little guy', and so on.

As an albino aurochs, he is not only an ideal sacrificial beast to the Lunar Face of God, but himself a perfect representation of the form that God took to lift the foundation of the world from the waters, inseminate the primordial sea, and to bring about creation with the offering of Itself (only a lot smaller). He is set to become the most important offering in the rite to restore God to Its lands and bring back the rains.

He was spotted as a newborn and later captured from a herd of wild aurochs in the dry grasslands on the eastern outskirts of the city-state of Wardin. He was then successfully grafted to a mother cow from the king's herd, whose own calf was killed by feral dogs (the white calf wears its pelt here, in the process of getting his adoptive mother to accept him as her own via recognition of the scent).

His mother is a notably beautiful but otherwise typical cow of southern Wardi stock, being short-coated with a heavy dewlap, a fatty hump, and lyrate horns. Her halter is decorated with a full seven set of pelatoche charms (one of which has little cowbells), as means of spiritual protection and putting potential thieves under the gaze of God. Her temperament is strong and hardy but gentle and trusting of people, and she is an experienced and (mostly) successful mother, making her an ideal guide and guardian for the calf as it is marched across country. Her name is Dandelion.

Both cattle travel with a small herd (including a couple of lesser backups, in case the calf doesn't make it) alongside the mass pilgrimage, with their physical protection and spiritual wellbeing assigned to the Galenii monks Tigran Otto and Palo Apollynon, the Odonii priestess Couya Haidamane, and the soldier Etsushir as his personal bodyguard. As two of the most important individuals in the pilgrimage, these cattle are better protected (and far better fed) than the majority of the people that accompany them.

[ellastone-olsen]

Could I request something Rhaenyra x Stark!reader smut with them being feral codependent soulmates? I love that trope. They would totally be unhinged and in love wives together plus the fire and ice parallels 😭 Like after Laenor “dies”, Rhaenyra’s goes looking for a new spouse and runs into Stark!reader and it’s just love/obsession at first sight?

MY QUEEN IS CRUEL

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!Stark!reader

Summary: your family comes from Winterfell to the capital at the invitation of the Targaryen family. Princess Rhaenyra announced that she would choose a new spouse. Your brother was a contender from the House of Stark, but it seems to the princess that another contender from the rulers of the north is more interesting.

Warnings: NSFW 18+, soulmates dynamic, mentions of blood and alcohol, innocent reader, virginity loss, oral, fingering

Word count: 3.1k

AN: omg my first House of the Dragon fic, I hope I translated some titles and names correctly. Thanks for the request, it took me so long to write this, but I love Rhaenyra so much 💕

Rhaenys's bitter, heartbreaking cry is heard in the silence of the room. The woman looks at the burnt body that just a few minutes ago was her son. “Who allowed this?! Why wasn’t anyone around?!” Corlys embraces his wife in rage and grief. That day, sadness became the main companion of the grieving parents.

No one knows that on the shore, the one who is now considered dead is running towards the boat. Laenor Velaryon sails away to disappear forever from this life in which he was imprisoned. Rhaenyra gave him a chance at happiness and Laenor will not forget this.

Rhaenyra Targaryen is officially recognized as a widow. It is expected that rumors about the death of the princess's husband began to spread like a plague, from servants to other servants, and those to their families, from there the plague was transmitted to all seven kingdoms. Some believed in the official story, others, like the grieving mother, blamed the Targaryen family for everything, they said that the princess ordered the murder, that she was tired of her husband. But for Rhaenyra it was enough to know that this was absurdity and slander.

“So what are you going to do next?” Daemon approached unnoticed. Rhaenyra didn’t look at him, her gaze was directed far out to sea. "I think I'm looking for a new spouse." Damon thought the hint was crystal clear. He thought that she still wanted him, wanted to finish what they started that night all those years ago. “Rhaenyra...” He was interrupted, “No uncle, leave it alone. Kiss me and let me go. If you do not...” A ringing silence hung between them. The phrase did not need to be continued; he already understood it.

King's Landing was filled with lords, princes and princesses from all over Westeros. The royal family invited all the noble houses, announcing that the heir to the iron throne would thus choose a new life partner.

“I don’t understand why you took me with you.” Your carriage was approaching to the King's Landing. Your parents were, as always, calm and cool, as befits the Starks, the rulers of the north. Your younger brother looked around the windows excitedly, clearly excited about his first trip outside of Winterfell. “Your mother and I think that you also need to see the capital.” Your father, as always, spoke directly and to the point. You smiled bitterly. “Only we’re here to try to marry Rob to this pompous princess.” You didn’t hide your bias towards this whole thing, which was more like an auction. “Y/N just try to say something like that about the princess in public and you will disgrace the entire House of Starks.”

For the rest of the trip you rode in silence, only occasionally fiddling with the hilt of the sword hidden in a sheath under your heavy black coat. Perhaps you had a little curiosity about the princess. What does the one who will take the iron throne look like, against whom there was so much outrage just because she was a woman. You thought that she must be strong and stubborn just like her ancestors. The same as the previously lived Visenya about whom you once read.

The carriage stopped.

“Do I have to wear this? How will I take my sword with me?” Your mother stood in the chambers that had kindly been allocated to you and watched as a maid helped you lace up a black dress with antique long sleeves. “You don't need the sword today, honey. This is a royal ball and you are not a knight in service." You looked in the mirror, and even though dresses weren't something you wore often, it didn't look bad at all for your taste. Still, the velvet in tandem with the large fur coat that you took from Winterfell looked harmonious.

“But what if something goes wrong and I’m left without a weapon?” You insisted. After so many years of training, the sword became an extension of you, and going out without it was akin to death. "The Royal Guard will protect us all." Your mother tried to be gentle and calm your worries. The woman came up behind you and put her hands on your shoulders. “For just one evening, be a princess and not a rude warrior. For me." You covered her hands. "Okay, just for you."

All arriving guests entered the huge hall in turn, after which they were seated at long tables, which were bursting with an abundance of dishes kindly offered by the royal family. “The Starks of Winterfell,” the man shouted and your family entered the hall. You followed your parents straight to the table in the center, at which the Targaryen couple was already sitting with the king and that famous Princess Rhaenyra at their head. Finally, you were close enough that you could see a woman with dazzling white hair and sharp purple eyes. Your breath caught somewhere in the depths and you couldn’t look away. It seems at this moment the ice and skepticism inside you broke, burst into a thousand pieces. You had to lower your head according to the rules of etiquette, but you couldn’t tear yourself away from contemplation. And when she finally looked at you, when your eyes met, you realized that you had problems. “Your Grace, this is our son Rob and eldest daughter Y/N.” Your father, as the head of the family, introduced his children and added, “I hope that Rob can claim the place of your husband Princess Rhaenyra.”

At these words, you remembered why you were here and a little jealousy pricked somewhere in your chest. You were almost jealous of your brother. But who are you to be jealous, because you just met. This is all becoming too strange, but so tempting. You sat down and the evening began.

Wines of different varieties continually filled the glasses of rich gentlemen, everyone laughed, joked and discussed who the heiress would choose as her husband. The Lannisters were sitting next to you and you could hear snatches of greasy jokes about how their eldest son could have Rhaenyra in all poses. Anger boiled inside you, how could this bastard say such things about this woman. “And they also say that her sons are bastards, and she is a whore.” The loud laughter of the Lannisters infuriated you even more. “Then your house is no better for having sworn allegiance to a whore.” You thought you said it quietly, but they apparently heard you.

“I didn’t hear what the pup from Winterfell was barking just now?” Everyone who was at your table fell silent and the whole room also paid attention to this. “I said what I meant.” The man was already deeply drunk and clearly in the mood for a fight. He stood up and you stood up next, you were the same height. “If you are so brave, then say out loud what you think of the princess.” Rhaenyra's purple eyes watched your quarrel carefully, it would be a lie to say that she did not look at you all evening, knowing that all the men in this room would be denied. She definitely liked your spark and wanted to see what happened next.

“I said that her sons are bastards, and she is a whore.” The man said the last word slowly, syllable by syllable, everyone present was in suspense. King Viserys took out his favorite blade. "I'll cut out your filthy tongue." As soon as he finished the phrase, a knife, prudently hidden under a fur coat, appeared in your hand and pinned Lannister’s palm to the table. He tried to get it. “There are a lot of vital veins in this part of the arm; if you try to pull it out, you will bleed to death.” The white cloaks immediately drew their swords and stood ready. Rhaenyra's entire being was hypnotized in delight by your actions and words, at that moment she chose her spouse. The entire Lannister family stood up and was ready to tear you apart.

"Get them out." For the first time that evening, Rhaenyra's voice broke the silence of the event. The bastard's face lit up with a smile. “My princess, thank you...” But before he could finish speaking, the guards twisted his hands, pulling the knife out of his palm, causing the man to let out a bitter scream. The entire Lannister family was disgracedly eliminated from the feast; there was silence for several more minutes, only whispers were heard from different sides.

"What are you doing." Your father pulled you by the arm, urging you to sit down, and glared at you with eyes full of rage. “Your mother asked you not to take weapons with you.” “She asked not to take the sword, dear father.” Rhaenyra stood up. “Today, to our great regret, unpleasant and unacceptable events occurred for the royal court.” She paused, her gaze returning to you and a smile gracing her lips. “But let’s not let these events overshadow our holiday, let’s raise our glasses and have a feast.” The crowd cheered and raised their glasses as they praised Princess Rhaenyra's wisdom and resilience. The celebration continued until late at night, you drank several glasses of wine after the incident and by the end you were decently drunk.

All evening you kept looking at Rhaenyra, your head was filled with thoughts about how beautiful and wise she is, about how wrong you were, how you regret that you didn’t want to go to the capital. But then these euphoric thoughts were darkened by the fact of her imminent marriage to one of the men of these noble houses and perhaps even to your brother.

You headed to your chambers, every now and then passing by local servants. Your legs dragged you heavily, your mind only thought about taking a warm bath and washing away inappropriate thoughts about the heiress. The heavy door opened with a slight creak, letting you into the semi-darkness of the room. You thought that you asked the servants to extinguish all the candles, but for some reason they were burning. Your gaze caught on an unfamiliar figure standing with his back to you, and the knife that had recently been in the Lannister’s bastard was again in your hand, waiting to defend yourself from intruders.

"You're a little warrior aren't you?" A velvety voice broke the silence and the stranger turned to face you. You immediately lowered the knife. “Your Grace, forgive me, I didn’t know it was you.” You immediately bent your knee in front of her. You were absolutely at a loss and the whole situation was a little confusing, why was the princess, the heir to the throne, waiting for you in your chambers in the middle of the night? “No need for formalities, please stand up.”

She walked through your chambers looking at some of your personal belongings until she found the sword. “Oh, this is your main weapon, as I understand it, you don’t to swing a knife every time of course ...” she bent down to take a closer look at the sparkling silver blade. “Such a beautiful thing, to match the owner.” Her compliment made your already red cheeks flush. “Did you want to talk about what happened, Your Grace?” you desperately wanted to change the topic.

“Did your mother ever tell you the legend of soulmates?” You were dumbfounded by her question. “Your Grace, I don’t quite understand...” She continued to walk around the room. “Don’t they really tell such stories in the north?” Her tone sounded fakely upset. “They say I know one.” “Then tell me too.”

You didn’t understand anything, Rhaenyra Targaryen came to you at night to listen to fairy tales for children? Perhaps something was put in the wine and now you were hallucinating, but it seemed like everything looked real. The woman lit the fireplace and, unbecoming for a future queen, sat down on the soft fur in front of the fire. She looked up at you, inviting you to sit next to her, you obeyed. The crackling of logs, the heat of the fire and the soft floral perfume of Rhaenyra lulled to sleep.

“My mother... told me when I was a child that there was a belief...” you cleaned the throat. “That every person has their own soulmate, but not everyone is able to find it, it’s like a person who was created by the seven gods just for you.” Rhaenyra began to unravel her tight braid; her head began to hurt unpleasantly from her hairstyle. You watched out of the corner of your eye as her snow-white strands gradually fell onto her shoulders. “And how do you understand who exactly your person is?” She encouraged you to continue. “I don’t remember exactly, but they said that when you see him or her, you will immediately understand, just the first glance or the first meeting and…boom.” "Boom?" She asked again, not quite understanding your strange wording. "Yes." You were looking at the burning logs when Rhaenyra's hand covered yours. She has already unbraided her hair. “Do you want to brush them?” Something strange was clearly happening. But who are you to refuse, you nodded and took the wooden comb brought from Winterfell from the nightstand. Hands carefully took strands of silver hair and combed them, as if they would break from the wrong movement.

“Do you believe in this legends?” You thought for a second. “I’m not sure, or rather I didn’t believe it before, but now these fairy tales don’t seem so stupid to me.” You put comb down, combing all hair perfectly. “I don’t understand why these questions are asked, Your Grace.” Your head was a complete mess due to the mixture of alcohol and adrenaline caused by the woman next to you. “Please call me Rhaenyra.” She turned to face you. “You understand everything, little warrior, don’t lie to me.” The woman moved closer and closer until she placed one hand on your shoulder. "Your Grace...Rhaenira." She leaned in so close that her lips were almost touching yours. "I want you." You looked into bright purple eyes, which shone yellow in the firelight. “Tell me the wolf of Winterfell, do you want me?” Her perfume smelled so delicious, her soft skin, white as her hair, that the dress did not hide, begged to be touched, “I...yes please, I want you.”

Rhaenyra's lips touched yours, sharing the sweetness of the recently drunk wine. One of the woman's hands grabbed the collar of your velvet dress and began to pull it down your shoulders to free your soft breasts. She carefully laid you on your back, on the soft fur, holding the back of your head. Her lips moved to her neck, then to her shoulder and then wrapped around her pink nipple. The action caused you to place your hand on her head, stroking her silver hair. The princess's hands lifted the skirt of the dress to the waist and stroked the skin of your soft thighs. "Cute little thing." She giggled and touched your lips again. The kiss was untidy, but full of tenderness and desire. Rhaenyra relieved you of underwear, her fingers slipped inside without a barrier, you were completely wet, just for her, but then she remembered. “Is this your first time?” She stopped any action, waiting in horror for an answer. "Yes, my grace." Rhaenyra buried her nose in the crook of your neck and began to kiss you, whispering, “I’m sorry, I should have asked earlier.” Your hand rested on hers that was still between your legs. “Please continue, I want this more than anything.”

And she continued, gently pounding and curling her fingers to hit that sensitive spot inside that made you see stars and whine like a pup. "Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra, oh please my grace." Your hand touched the sensitive bud for additional stimulation. “Oh fuck, fuck...I'm gonna...” “Cum for me, cum for your queen.” Her movements became faster and clearer until you came, squeezing around her long fingers, biting your hand so as not to scream from the new sensations that she was giving you. She pulled out and showed you her hand, which sparkled in the firelight from your release, and then licked every last drop, causing your eyes to darken.

When you came to your senses, you stood up, only to strip completely and push Rhaenyra towards the bed, urging you to sit on it. "Please let me return the favor." You knelt in front of her, lifting the skirt of her dress up to expose her stockinged legs. Your lips kissed every centimeter of skin, no one worshiped it like you. When your mouth reaches her pussy, you notice that her arousal has left a wet mark on the bed linen. The tongue draws a line along the entire length, collecting her arousal, and the woman moans, lowering her hand to stroke your cheek. “My little savior, tell me, would you have killed him if I had not intervened?” You kiss her palm. "Yes my grace." And you hug her sensitive bud with your lips, simultaneously pushing three fingers inside, immediately picking up a fast pace. "Oh Gods!" She moans and screams without being embarrassed to be heard, the way you stretch her drives the woman crazy. “Fuck, that’s it!” and “Yeah right there, that’s my good girl.” You fuck her, trying to please your queen as best as possible and feel how she clench around your fingers. “Fuck fuck Y/N!” She cums, for a long time, and you fuck her through orgasm until she whines from overstimulation, asking her to stop.

You move onto the bed and lie on top of her again, kissing her. “I didn’t believe in soulmates until I saw you.” She hugs you, covering your naked body. You lie there, again inhaling the aroma of her perfume and not believing in the reality of what happened. “I would like to believe that it’s true,” she replies and you think.

“Have you already chosen someone to be your spouse?” You say this quietly, in a whisper. It was at this moment that you remembered why your family came here in the first place and how you may have acted meanly towards your brother. She laughs and you don't understand. "Yes, I chose you."

You lift your head sharply, looking into those purple eyes to see if she's deceiving you. “But...what if people are against it, what will you do?”

She thought about it, she knew that there would be dissatisfied people. “Then I will personally give Syrax the command to burn to the ground anyone who questions my choice.”

[pierppasolini]

Le roi qui contemplait la mer (2022) // dir. Jean-Sébastien Chauvin

[baldval]

VALENTINE'S DAY W HAZBIN!₊˚⊹♡

characters: vox, charlie, valentino, lucifer, adam, lute, alastor

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, slightly suggestive content if you're reading adam.

VOX:

𖹭 the place is absolutely decorated when you get up in the morning.

𖹭 i'm talking heart balloons, flowers, and rose petals all across the floor.

𖹭 when you come into the living room, he's still in his jammies and sitting on the couch.

𖹭 you loved when he looked like that, so carefree, a contrast from his usual self.

𖹭 "Vox, what's all this?" you ask smiling

𖹭 "it's all for you, obviously."

𖹭 he stands up and walks towards you, he lifts you up and spins you around.

𖹭 you place your hands on his chest as he gently lowers you back to the floor.

𖹭 "you deserve the entire world," he whispers.

𖹭 he plants a kiss on your lips and you instantly blush.

𖹭 with a foolish smile, he wishes you a happy Valentine's Day.

𖹭 you give him lots of kisses, leaving marks all across the screen.

𖹭 you say, "I have something for you."

𖹭 "you do?"

𖹭 "duh" you chuckle

𖹭 you were aware that Vox had his eye on this watch.

𖹭 it had this gorgeous crimsom strap that matched his tie. 𖹭 when he notices it, all he does is look at you. 𖹭 love obscuring his vision 𖹭 he's amazed that you're his. 𖹭 and he feels quite fortunate. 𖹭 he carefully places the watch on the counter. 𖹭 then gives you a kiss so intense you almost feel like you're actually in heaven.

CHARLIE:

𖹭 when you walk in to your room, there are roses on your desk.

𖹭 with an enormous chocolate box of course

𖹭 and a, quite long, love letter

𖹭 the fact that she can't wait to just see you and be able to actually hold you

𖹭 you're grinning broadly to yourself.

𖹭 and you joyfully shove chocolate after chocolate into your lips.

𖹭 she doesn't meet you in the lobby, like you thought she would.

𖹭 she appears at your room.

𖹭 "hi, babe," she exclaims, excited.

𖹭 she approaches and greets you with a kiss.

𖹭 "thank you so much for everything. you say to her, "I have something for you too, you know."

𖹭 she is unable to remove her lips from yours.

𖹭 you take something out of a desk drawer as you pull her into your lap. 𖹭 you pry it open, and she lets out a half-gasp.

𖹭 you were able to get her a unique, gorgeous necklace. 𖹭 at the center is a quite shiny heart. 𖹭 you help her put it on, and the chain fits neatly around her clavicle. 𖹭 she has what is probably the biggest smile you've ever seen. 𖹭 from now on you notice, she never, ever removes the necklace.

VALENTINO:

𖹭 extravagant king.

𖹭 his name is literally Valentine so of course he'll take the day off for you.

𖹭 you and him are hand in hand on a pier.

𖹭 he's obviously wearing his best clothes, and of course you are too.

𖹭 before you know it, it's just the two of you on a small yacht.

𖹭 and the necessary employees, but they're not the main focus.

𖹭 he lavishes you with presents

𖹭 chocolate, that perfect piece of jewelry, and a tiny plush animal that he says reminded you of him

𖹭 you share a meal on the balcony while chatting and having fun.

𖹭 all while playing footsie beneath the table.

𖹭 he seems to be focusing solely on you when you talk to him.

𖹭 because he really is, staring at you with adoration.

𖹭 with your backs against each other, you sit in the living room.

𖹭 your head resting on his shoulder while his fingers comb through your hair

𖹭 he breathes steadily and deeply.

𖹭 "i wouldn't really mind if this was all we did for the rest of our lives," he says

𖹭 you plant a kiss on his shoulder while gazing out to sea.

𖹭 "that wouldn't bother me either,"

𖹭 in some way, he draws you even nearer to him.

𖹭 he kisses your face all over

𖹭 "well that's great. since you're everything to me."

LUCIFER:

𖹭 truly a hopeless romantic

𖹭 his pissing in his underwear while waiting for you.

𖹭 you open the door and say hello to him.

𖹭 the ceiling and walls are illuminated by candlelight, creating a dim atmosphere.

𖹭 there are rose petals all over the path that leads to the living room.

𖹭 you walk slowly towards him.

𖹭 he's kinda just standing there.

𖹭 and it's pretty obvious he's nervous.

𖹭 he grabs hold of your hands and draws you in.

𖹭 "hey," he says, his voice cracking right away.

𖹭 "i missed you," you say

𖹭 he murmurs back, "yeah, I missed you too, so much."

𖹭 for a small instant, he remains silent.

𖹭 but he goes on after that.

"i love you so much, and i know we've talked about how we both want to get married. and, i'll be honest, i can't imagine my life without you, and i'm just so... so in love with you, and I'm sorry, I'm rambling, it's just-" he stops suddenly, taking a deep breath.

𖹭 as he drops to one knee, his hands follow your hips and sides. 𖹭 he takes out a tiny velvet box from inside his coat. 𖹭 you have mentioned getting married before. 𖹭 and you are well aware that he is pretty much your soulmate. 𖹭 and it's Valentine's Day, so of course, he's popping the question. 𖹭 and you naturally answer: "yes". 𖹭 he stands up rapidly, your lips colliding with his. 𖹭 he tightens his grasp around the small of your back. 𖹭 he will always hold onto you.

ADAM:

𖹭 the sun began to set on valentine's day.

𖹭 adam, as charming as they come, is dressed to impress.

𖹭 he strutted alongside you as you walked towards a bench.

𖹭 the bench had this incredible view of the sea.

𖹭 adam sat down right beside you, your thighs touching.

𖹭 the times where adam was in silence were not many, yet always impactful.

𖹭 you stared at the sun as he stared at you.

𖹭 his eyes were fixated on your face, analysing your features.

𖹭 "why are you looking at me like that?" you're blushing.

𖹭 "i got something for you." he avoids your gaze now.

𖹭 clearly, adam is not used to vulnerability.

𖹭 and there was something about him being with you that just made him feel seen.

𖹭 he takes out a small box.

𖹭 "it's nothing really" he says as you open it.

𖹭 inside there's a mixtape.

𖹭 you read the names of the songs, not recognising any.

𖹭 "are these yours?" he nods.

𖹭 "the last one is named after you, actually"

𖹭 you look at him, eyes wide open, surprised at his gesture.

𖹭 with a sly smile and a playful roll of your eyes, you leaned in to steal a kiss, your heart fluttering with excitement.

𖹭 "who knew the first guy to ever exist would be such a romantic?" you teased, unable to hide the fondness in your voice.

𖹭 "you should play the mixtape as we fuc-"

𖹭 "of course you had to ruin it" you chuckle as he smirks.

𖹭 he wraps his arm around your shoulder and you lay your head on his chest.

LUTE:

𖹭 she gives you several quick kisses to wake you up.

𖹭 "hey, sleepyhead. i need you up.

𖹭 you blink away the sleepiness, as she continues to plant lips on your cheeks and jaw.

𖹭 "come on, babe, we have a reservation," she whines.

𖹭 "a reservation, huh?"

𖹭 "yes, please get up right now."

𖹭 she puts on a sharp dress shirt and matching dress pants.

𖹭 she gives you a bouquet of your favorite flower as you meet her at the door.

𖹭 she takes one of the flowers, clips it, and tucks it behind your ear.

𖹭 you then walk to a close cafe, arm in arm.

𖹭 it isn't really that fancy but it is beautiful.

𖹭 the place is filled with tulips and it smells like what you figured spring would smell like.

𖹭 in a quiet space, a table is already prepared for the two of you.

𖹭 you two laugh while eating breakfast.

𖹭 you two could chat for hours on end and never get bored.

ALASTOR:

𖹭 he's just getting started with all of this relationship stuff.

𖹭 he had no one to share valentine's with before to this year.

𖹭 thus, he is anxious and perplexed.

𖹭 but of course he will do everything in his power to hide it, keeping his smile to appear calm.

𖹭 after work, he brings a bouquet home with him.

𖹭 they are your favourite colour and flower.

𖹭 because of course he knows every single thing that you love.

𖹭 and he brings cake instead of chocolate.

𖹭 "aw, Alastor." you blush

𖹭 "well, i didn't find any chocolate boxes shaped like hearts, but i did find a cake shaped like a heart."

𖹭 you chuckle

𖹭 but it doesn't truly bother you

𖹭 quietly, he says, "i made sure to get your favorite flavor, and i swear there's no human parts in this"

𖹭 "it may not be much, but it is what I could find,"

𖹭 you interrupted him with a kiss.

𖹭 "Alastor" you say his name and his eyes flutter.

𖹭 "i don't think you could ever guess how happy you make me"

𖹭 he feels like his heart is trying to burst out of his chest. 𖹭 he draws you into a close embrace. 𖹭 you spend the evening eating cake and snuggling on the couch.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

The Wishing Well

Yandere Kraken x Fem Reader

TW: Tentacles, teratophillia, monster fucking, etc

When you were a child, you were often told about a wishing well deep within a sea cave. A well that would grant you any wish your heart desired so long as you made a deal of equal standing with the magical creature that resided in it. Yet most of your fellow villagers said the price was always worth more than what you desired… and the forest was extremely dangerous.

There was a tale about a king who had wished for more riches, yet he returned from the well with no hands so he could no longer hold the gold he had so foolishly sought out.

There was another tale of a woman who went to the well to wish for a child, yet she returned from the well with a round stomach. The villagers all said her baby was a monster.

You were told only one good story about the well. A story of a man who had went to the well to wish for his wife’s health to improve. A hopeless romantic, your peers called him. A man who successfully made a wish and had his wife healed from her incurable disease… yet he never returned from that well. The villagers all assumed the worse, that he sacrificed his own life for his lover…

These stories terrified you as child so you never really thought about the well. At least not until you reached adulthood, anyways. When your village was being threatened by orcs from foreign lands. Your village would perish if they didn’t surrender all of their women to the invaders.

Your villages population was mostly elderly people so there were only ten options of women to send off and you were one of them. You didn’t want to be the whore of an invader, you wanted to marry your lover, Valo… a handsome young man who lived by the seaside on his own. He was a bit eccentric, but you could see yourself with him.

There was only one way to save yourself and your village. And that would be to use the well.

And so you journeyed deep into the frozen sea cave on your quest to liberate your land. Your hopes high despite the small bit of dread that pooled into your stomach. The price shouldn’t be too bad… no. It didn’t matter what the price was. Because you’d rather die than lose your dignity.

Your journey took over three hours, but you finally stood in front of the old well. It was so much larger than the stories had described… and it seemed bottomless from how pitch black the water was.

“H-hello? I’m here to make a wish.” You yelped when a masked face popped up from the well. The man’s muscular upper torso leaned on the edge of the well to stare at you.

“A wish?” The man’s voice was raspy, almost as if he hadn’t spoken in eons. “I haven’t received a wish yet… okay. I’ll grant your wish if I like it.”

What did this man mean by that? Was he the creature of the well? You tried to see what was behind the man’s upper torso yet it was impossible to get around this man.

“No need to be shy. I want to hear what your wish is. You’re the first human I have seen.” Oh? But this well has been here for generations… perhaps the creature within it changed every so often?

“I’m here to save my village from invaders.” You gasped when he grabbed your jaw to tilt your head towards him.

“How noble… I don’t believe that’s all you want though. You’re hesitant.” The man chuckled at your flushed cheeks. “Are you afraid of me?”

You cast your gaze to the floor which made the man burst into laughter. “Goodness! How fun! Please be honest or else you had made this journey for naught.”

“The other girls and I will be sacrificed to the invaders to be… to be their wives or slaves.” Your voice is so soft yet it echoed throughout the icy cave. “Please help my village! I don’t want to be with someone I don’t love-“

You felt your heart stop when the man’s masked face was now only a few inches from yours. His violet eyes studied your form in interest before he sat up. “You’re not lying and I find you quite pretty.”

The man snapped his fingers and a contract appeared from thin air, the words written on it were in an olden tongue you couldn’t grasp. “I will grant your wish but you must sign this contract. I don’t want you to butt out of our end of the deal.”

“Deal?” You’re puzzled by the man who laughed at your gobsmacked expression.

“Duh. Wishes aren’t for free otherwise more people would come to me.” The man nodded his head at her.

“But what is it that you want from me?” You asked the man who merely gave you a smirk.

“I’ll tell you once your little invader issue is resolved. Until then, you’re free to go about your life.” You bit your lip but ultimately signed, the man quickly snatched up the contract as his body spun in circles in the pitch black water of the well. “I’m thrilled! It’s been so long since I’ve had company…”

The man turned to her with a grin. “You said you’ll only be with someone you love, right?”

“Yes?” The man nodded his head and snapped his fingers, the contract disappeared into thin air.

“Then it’s settled. I will collect you when the time is right.” The man then waved you away as you made your long journey home. The man was now absolutely giddy. Was this how his mother felt when she met his father all those centuries ago? He was so happy that you were indeed the one.

You did go about your life and was surprised to hear how a kraken destroyed the invaders’ ships. It was a terrifying site to see the dismembered bodies and ship wreckage on the frozen shores of your home… yet it was satisfying. Everyone was safe, just as promised.

There was no longer the threat of foreign invaders… which meant you were able to spend more time with your lover. The violet haired man beamed at you when he invited you to walk on the icy beach with him.

“Once winter is over, why don’t we get married?” Valo blushed when you took his hand in yours. “The sea is always bursting with life in the summer…”

“I’d love to.” The two of you giggled in bliss. Yet you couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that the man from the well would call upon you soon to pay off your end of the deal…

After that day with Valo, you were plagued with nightmares of a creature from the deep. A violet kraken that wrapped its tentacles around your small body and plunged you into the depths of the dark ocean. The tendrils would squeeze you in ways that were salacious. The violet appendages would shove their way down your throat and into your poor hole. It was such a terrifying nightmare, one that always felt so real.

You’d often wake up with sore arms, legs, and sometimes sore nether regions from these dreams. Perhaps you should spend more time with Valo? Your lover always made you feel more comfortable…

And it was now summer! The two of you were going to get married soon, anyways. It wouldn’t hurt to see Valo…

And so you went to your lover’s home on the shore. Your fellow villagers quirked a brow at you. They never knew why you went to the beach so often with a smile on your face since you always came back empty handed.

No one had lived on that shore for centuries after the fisherman disappeared to save his wife at the well in the sea cave.

“Valo?” You approach the violet haired man who gives you a bright smile. His violet eyes eerily shine under the moonlight as his body remained half submerged in the sea.

“My dear, it’s time to pay off your debt.” You freeze when you hear the familiar voice of the man from the well leave Valo’s throat. “You said you’d only be with someone you love, so it’s time for you to pay your dues.”

You scream when violet tentacles shoot out from the murky water and wrap around you. What? But… how? These were the tentacles from your nightmares. The violet tendrils that wrapped themselves skeins your pliable body when you were in dream world… the tendrils that fucked you.

“V-Valo?!”

“I’m sure you’ll love our new home… it isn’t often a kraken finds their mate.”

[scarlet-star-witch]

You were my man and I your girl

Aemond Taragryen x female reader

Summary: Facing the news of her impending betrothal, she makes a final, desperate act of rebellion. Though when she discovers she is to marry her dear uncle, the man she has longed for since childhood, she realizes she may have ruined their marriage before it even began

Word count: 17.5 K (I need help)

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff, Aegon being kind of a good brother, men having the audacity, jealous Aemond, reader is Rhaenyra's daughter, but no mention of who her father is

~~

“What?”

Rhaenerya winced and bowed her head at the sharp tone. She knew her daughter would not take the news lightly, but she had hoped she could understand the delicate nature of their situation. 

“Darling, I know I told you-”

“Are you alright with this?” She interrupted, turning to Daemon who was sitting stone-faced, hating the news as much as she was. 

He opened his mouth, most likely to spew insults about her soon to be betrothed, but Rhaenrya’s sharp glare quickly quieted him and she turned desperately to her raging daughter. 

“My love, please understand-”

“What is there to understand?” Her daughter continued, her eyes wide, searing with betrayal. “You told me I would have a choice, that I would never be used as some political pawn for power.”

“We are on the verge of a succession war. We all have a duty to perform and as my heir you have your own to fulfill.”

The mention of the fight for succession, the hint as to who exactly she would be marrying did not register in her mind or it would have calmed the burning fire inside her. All she could make out in the maelstrom in her mind was that she was to be married and it was not her choice. 

She remembered, just moons ago, when Jason Lannister had offered his hand. The thought of being forced into the bed of a man decades older than her, power hungry and desperate to take the titles she could give him, made her feel sick to her stomach. 

“I can’t believe you would do this to me.” She told her mother, her voice sounding weaker, knowing she was facing a losing battle. 

Rhaenerya’s face fell, her daughter’s words cutting her deeply, causing an aching pain to bloom in her chest. 

“Please, if you would just listen, you might change-”

“I might change my mind and accept the fact that I’m to be sold like a mare?” She argued and quickly turned on her heel, storming out of the room. 

Rhaenerya pinched the bridge of her nose as she exhaled loudly, her frustration clear. Daemon tapped his fingers against his thigh, his gaze remaining on the empty doorway.

“That went as well as I expected.” He spoke dryly, his expression softening slightly when he saw the tiredness in his wife’s eyes. “She’ll get over it. She’ll eventually stop arguing long enough for you to explain.”

“She’s always been stubborn, but she has never raged like this before. She’s been spending too much time with you.” 

Daemon scoffed, though he couldn’t exactly deny the claim. 

“If she had only let me finish, she would have been happy with the news. She used to be so close to Aemond, I know she’s always cared for him. She barely spoke to me when we left King’s Landing, she was so mad that I had separated them.”

“I still say she can do better than that one-eyed cunt.” 

“Daemon.” Rhaenerya hissed, fighting the urge to smack him upside the head. “It is already done. The King has accepted the betrothal and their union will finally mend the divide between our families.”

~~

Her breathing was labored as she raced through the halls, unsure of where she was heading. Outside, she heard Vermithor’s loud roar, her dragon sensing his bonded rider’s discomfort and anger. She had a fleeting thought of racing to her beloved dragon and flying across the sea, hiding away from her duties for the rest of her days.

The thought was quick to dissolve. She knew Daemon would catch her before she could get Vermithor off the grounds of Dragonstone. 

So that left her to stew in her anger at being forced to marry a man she didn’t love and probably would never love and her hurt that her mother had broken the promise she had told her years ago as a child, that she would never be used a political pawn, that her hand in marriage would never be forced.

She briefly thought of a young boy with silver hair and quickly pushed the thought away when the ache of longing overtook her. 

The thought of the old, greedy, disrespectful lord she was soon to marry made her want to throw up. This was never what she pictured for herself. 

Defeated, she trudged back to her room, her head down, a picture of broken girlhood too many women in this realm knew all too well. 

“Princess, are you alright?” 

She perked up, her eyes meeting the caring gaze of her guard, Ser Darick, standing vigil at her door. 

A twisted idea unfurled inside her, a half-hearted plan of rebellion sparked by the flames of anger that burned brightly. 

She smiled, the gesture bringing one to his own lips. She had always found him handsome, many late nights had been spent with Baela and Rhaena giggling amongst each other about his broad shoulders and silken hair. 

She had no deeper desires for him, that place in her heart was firmly held by the sweet boy she left behind years ago, but it didn’t stop her from noticing the way her guard looked at her. She knew he desired her and the anger inside of her left her wanting for one thing she could control, one thing the man who would soon own her would never have. 

“I’m afraid I need your help with something in my chambers.” She spoke sweetly. Ser Darick nodded eagerly and he followed her inside. 

She closed the door behind them, causing him to turn back to look at her, his brows furrowed in confusion as he noticed the pristine state of her chambers. 

“Princess-?”

“I see how you look at me, Ser Darick.” She stated bluntly, vindicated from the way his eyes widened and averted from her gaze. “There’s not many things in my life that I get to choose and I’d like you to help me make one last choice before my freedom is taken from me.”

“I don’t understand.” 

She untied the laces of her dress, allowing it to fall from her shoulders, leaving her in a sheer slip. The man before her choked on his breath, the hunger in his eyes making her heart race, she knew he wanted her. She stepped towards him, her hands running over the expanse of his chest. 

“We shouldn’t. I swore an oath-”

“To protect me.” She finished his sentence. “I think this is exactly the protection I need.” She smiled cheekily. 

She pulled the shift over her head, leaving her body bare to him and she knew the second he gave in as his eyes took in every inch of her body. He dropped his hand from the hilt of the sword on his hip and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him as he crashed his lips to hers. 

She smiled in between kisses, feeling like she had her power back as she undid the pieces of armor from his body. 

She steadily ignored the guilt that crept through her mind, guilt for defying her mother and her duty. Moans fell from her lips as her guard took her hard and fast, his hunger for her clear in the way he held her tightly, in the way he refused to part his lips from any inch of her body. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, letting the image before her melt into one of the silver haired, one-eyed man she longed for. A shiver wracked her body, her toes curling at the images she conjured in her mind.

She bit her lip, stopping herself from letting the wrong name fall from her lips as she reached her peak. As the man above her shuddered to his end, her name bellowed in the quiet room, she thought of how Aemond would sound saying her name in rapture. 

As Ser Darick panted against her lips, his body collapsing against hers, she let herself indulge in the passionate touch of another and mourned for what she believed her future would hold. 

~~

Aemond was sitting stiffly in the same spot he had been for the last ten minutes, since his mother had told him the news. 

He couldn’t make sense of the emotions whirling within him. Relief was the first one he could pinpoint, but it quickly turned to guilt, soon to remorse, and then to the sham of disdain he had tried so hard to feel for her since the night he had lost his eye. 

Though no matter how hard he had tried to hate her like he hated the rest of her family, he found he could never conjure any for her. She never ridiculed him the way Aegon and her bastard brothers had, she was never a part of the cruel jokes and pranks they pulled on him. They were both young Targaryen’s without dragons and had found solace in their shared longing. Despite her own perceived shortcoming, she never wavered in the comfort she bestowed upon him. 

She spent many nights holding his hand, reassuring him he was worthy of a dragon when the teasing became too much for him to handle. She stuck up for him like no one else ever had. She even looked down upon her own brothers, scolding them for their immature teasing and jokes at his expense. 

 He remembered the worst night of his life, as his family splintered with the loss of his eye and the insults he had hurled at the Strong bastards.

But he always remembered how she had tearfully screamed at her own brother for what was done to him. He remembered when hours later, she snuck into his room, hugged him tightly and told him how proud she was that he had claimed Vhagar. 

He remembered how just a year later he had heard the news she had laid claim to the wild dragon, Vermithor. He wanted so badly to saddle his own dragon and make his way to her, to tell her how proud he was of her the same way she had praised him. 

But his mother had never had allowed it 

He could never hate her. She was never just another one of Rhaenyra’s bastard children and as much as he tried to tell himself to remain neutral, he couldn’t help but feel relieved at the news of his mother’s reluctant acceptance of their betrothal, one he had longed for but never had hope of ever coming to fruition. 

“Aemond?”

His mother’s voice broke him from his thoughts and he turned his attention towards her, attempting to remain stoic so he would not reveal his true feelings about the news. 

“Tell me if this is truly what you want. If not, I will tell Rhaenyra the betrothal is off.” 

Panic grew at the thought of his mother, or even his scheming grandfather, taking this away from him before he even got the chance to revel in it. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair.

“It’s alright, Mother. I will perform my duty.” 

Alicent smiled and reached over to place her hand over his. She adored her son and his strong sense of duty that was certainly lost to his older brother. Despite his attempts to remain stone-faced, Alicent knew her son too well, she knew what he truly longed for. 

She remembered how close he had been with Rhaenyra’s eldest child and she knew how devastated he had been when she had left for Dragonstone. Aemond had refused even meeting possible suitors for years and she could see his desire to shut her down as she mentioned the betrothal.

Until she had mentioned the Princess’ name.

It had shut him up quickly and he had stayed quiet, taking in the news with a contemplative expression that was all too familiar on her stoic boy’s face. 

But it was the slightest twitch of his lips upwards and the way he seemed to exhale in relief, every inch of his body losing its rigidity that told Alicent this was the right decision. Despite her ire for Rhaenerya and her children, the thought of an impending war was not something she wanted and it would clearly make her son happy, an emotion she did not often see him indulge in. 

She smiled and squeezed his hand. 

“They will arrive in a few day’s time. We will start preparations for the wedding as soon as possible.” 

With her parting words, Aemond was left to remain sitting, leaning on his elbow as his hand covered his mouth, trying to make sense of the emotions he was feeling that were so foreign to him. He wasn’t used to getting what he wanted. 

It didn’t seem real. 

~~

By the next morning, with an awkward passing smile to Ser Darick, she was headed towards the dining hall, her pace slow, as if she could delay greeting her family. She felt as though there was now an enormous target on her back, letting everyone she passed know what she had done the previous night. 

“Darling,”

She startled, placing a hand over her chest and plastering on a smile as she greeted her mother stiffly.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mother. I just… didn’t sleep well last night.”

Rhaenyra frowned and linked her arm through her daughter’s. “I know last night was difficult, but I think you’ll come around to it.”

She tensed, picturing the cruel, power hungry lord she’d be chained to for the rest of her life.

“Mother-”

“If you had let me finish, you would have heard that I have betrothed you to Aemond.”

She abruptly stopped in her tracks, almost causing her mother to trip over her own feet. Rhaenyra looked back at her daughter, expecting to see pure joy cross her features but she was confused to see the anguish in her expression.

She stepped towards her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her hand caressing down the length of her hair.

“Darling, what’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy with the news, I know how much you care for him.”

The lump in her throat grew so tight, she worried she’d choke to death before she could voice her mistake. The guilt that had already been lingering beneath her skin grew tenfold, threatening to knock her right off her feet.

“But… the Queen… she’d never agree.”

“She did.” Rhaenyra confirmed, still perplexed by her daughter’s reaction. “The King made his decree, something even she cannot dictate. With you as my heir, Aemond will be King Consort. I guess she realizes that was as good a consolation as she would get.”

It was real. She was to marry Aemond, the man she had longed for for years. She hadn’t even been reunited with him and she had already betrayed him. 

“Mother-” She paused, taking in a ragged breath, her hand holding tightly to her mother’s arm for stability. “I… I did something stupid.”

Rhaenrya’s face twisted into an expression of concern and she quickly ushered her daughter through the halls into the privacy of her chambers. She sat on her bed, her hand held tightly to her daughter’s as she tearfully explained what she had done the night before.

The first emotion to rise was a dangerous protective anger. 

Rhaenyra sprang to her feet, her hands clenched into fists and she grinded her teeth. 

“If that man did anything to pressure you-”

“Mother, stop. He didn’t do anything I didn’t ask him to do.” Her daughter assured her, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment at having to explain her indiscretion. 

Her words caused her mother to sigh and begin to pace. 

“Aemond can never- Alicent can never know about this.” 

“What?”

“This betrothal is tenuous, it took months for Alicent to give in, it took months for the decree to even make it to my father. The first sign of a crack, she’ll tear it apart, her and that lecherous father of hers.” Rhaenrya ranted.

Guilt burned through her veins, the thought that her stupid decision could ruin her family made her feel sick. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking. I just… the thought of being married to some old man-”

“Oh my love.” Rhaenyra took a seat next to her daughter, taking her hands in her, pressing a kiss to her shaking knuckles. “Do not blame yourself.”

“This was the path to peace and I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Rhaenyra spoke sternly, as if speaking it into existence with her mere words. She gave her daughter a weak smile, her actions all too familiar to her.  “You know I was about your age when I had the same idea of a rebellion against duty.”

Her daughter looked at her curiously, but Rhaenyra’s heavy sigh was indicative that she didn’t want to spare too many details of that fateful night when Daemon had taken her to a brothel that led her to bring Ser Criston to her bed. 

She shouldn’t have been surprised that her dragon of a daughter had rebelled just as similarly as she had all those years ago.  

A half-hearted plan began to form, one based on tenuous lies, but it was all she had. 

“We’ll switch rotations, you’ll never have to see Ser Darick again. We’ll go to King’s Landing, you will marry Aemond and they will all be none the wiser about what happened last night.”

“Will you tell Daemon?” She asked fearfully.

Rhaenyra let out an amused huff of laughter. “Not unless you want your guard tortured and torn limb from limb.”

Sensing her daughter’s lingering anxiety, she placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“No one will ever know.”

A shuddering breath escaped her. She prayed to the Seven her mother’s words were true. 

~~

Aemond stood tensely in the courtyard with his family, his hands firmly planted behind his back, the picture of royal stoicism. He just hoped no one could see how his fingers fidgeted behind his back, his nerves getting the better of him.

It had been six long years since he had seen her, since that last visit she had paid him where she had mourned his injury with him and kissed his cheek, a moment that left him wondering if he would live with a blush on his cheeks for the rest of his life.

An elbow to his side forced him out of his daze and he turned to see Aegon’s smug smirk as he gestured with his head at the oncoming carriage. 

“Creaming your pants yet?”

Aemond sneered at his brother, his jaw clenching as he turned himself to face straight ahead, steadily ignoring the amused smirk sent his way at his expense. 

His heart began to race as the carriage door opened, anticipation heavy on his shoulders. With every face he saw that wasn’t hers his impatience began to rise, holding back a glare to her brothers who exited first. 

He didn’t pay attention as his mother and Rhaenyra greeted each other awkwardly. He didn’t spare his nephews a second look. All he saw was her. He perked up the moment his gaze found her, his lips parting unknowingly, no longer holding strongly to the passive facade he had forced all day.

She had grown into a beautiful woman in the past six years. He had pictured this moment for so long and none of his late night fantasies could ever compare to the woman before him. 

He cleared his throat, straightening his posture as she stepped towards him. For years he had tried so hard to push down the feelings of longing that arose at the thought of her. For so long he had forced himself to believe she was nothing more than an enemy, a bastard girl that deserved nothing. 

But as she stood in front of him now, grown and more beautiful than he could have ever conceived, he realized it was all a farce. Every hateful thought he had forced into his head about her was nothing more than a lie. 

“Prince Aemond.” She greeted with a small curtsey, the small smile curling on her lips capturing his eye effortlessly. 

After a few seconds, he suddenly realized he hadn’t spoken a word, a brief flash of panic racing through him at the embarrassment that he had been merely staring at her like a fool.

“Princess.” He responded slightly bashfully as he bowed his head. 

The air surrounding them was awkward, both with so many things to say that had been left unsaid for years, complicated feelings that went unresolved for so long. 

But they were to be married in a mere week's time. The family drama that cut through their childhood bond did not need to be addressed, they had no choice but to accept the inevitable. 

He would be her husband no matter if he came to terms with the delusion he had forced for years. He would be her husband no matter if he had unlearned everything his mother and grandsire had instilled in him for years. 

~~

A welcome feast had been thrown in their honor. The table of royals had been a sight of strain as the ailing King gave his remarks to the room, welcoming his dear eldest daughter back to King’s Landing, lamenting the union of their divided family through the marriage of his first granddaughter and his second son. 

The stifling tension among their family remained throughout the celebration. With the secret weighing heavily on her, she felt as though she couldn’t even spare a glance at her betrothed without choking on the intense guilt she couldn’t shake. 

As the heir of the heir and a coveted Targaryen Princess, her mother’s only daughter, she was practically forced to remain on the dancefloor all night, indulging in the many noble Lords and their sons that offered their hand. 

“Mind if I cut in?”

She almost audibly sighed in relief at the sound of her brother’s voice, taking the place of the obnoxious boy who had accosted her for three dances. Since the feast began, she’d been approached by more Lords than she could count. 

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly as he began to dance with her.

“I’m fine.”

“You say the word and I’ll take you back to Dragonstone.”

“Jace.” She scolded, giving him a pointed look. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you, Sister.” He defended. “You’re about to marry the man that tormented us as children.”

She frowned, her eyes drifting to Aemond who sat at the head table, eyeing the dancing couples with disinterest. The sight of his eye patch was like a punch to the gut, the memory of what had happened that night was enough to bring tears to her eyes. 

“If I remember correctly, it was you, Lucerys and Aegon that tormented him as children.”

“He called us bastards.”

“And he lost an eye.” She reminded him tersely. “I’d say that more than evens the odds.”

Jace sighed heavily, the conversation weighing heavily on him. He wasn’t proud of his actions that night or how he had treated his uncle as children, but the guilt wasn’t enough to allow him to feel happy for this union. 

“He’s different now.” Her brother mumbled. “He seems… angry.”

“Can you blame him?” 

Jace sighed again to which she sent him a pointed look. It was as if it pained him to admit his guilt, to admit that their uncle wasn’t the villainous enemy he had built up in his head. He looked at his sister thoughtfully, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“Is this truly what you want?”

“What I want doesn't matter, Jace.”

“It does. Especially if you are to be married to a man that would make you miserable.” 

She remained quiet, contemplating his words with confliction. Misery was never a feeling that followed the thought of her uncle. She knew their marriage could be great, that they could foster a beautiful love, but only if he let it and only if he never discovered her betrayal. 

As the song ended and Jace moved from her side to spare a dance with an impatient Baela, she floundered for a moment, eyeing her brother and his betrothed for a moment, their delighted smiles, the clear fondness they held for each other stirring envy within her. 

She wondered if her own marriage would bear the same smiles. 

She looked around, dread settling inside her as her gaze passed over the many other noble sons that wanted their chance to dance with her. It was the last thing she wanted. 

With a heavy breath, she pushed her way through the throng of dancing couples and slunk out onto the balcony, hoping no one had noticed her swift exit and moved to follow. It had been years since she’d been in King’s Landing, it seemed the novelty of her family had not waned. 

It was as if everyone wanted a piece of her. She loathed it. 

Only a minute later, she heard footsteps approaching and she grit her teeth, her peace seeming to be taken from her as quickly as she had gained it. She turned her head and her eyes widened at the sight of Aemond stepping out onto the balcony. 

He startled slightly when he noticed her and smiled, a gesture that was weak and awkward, though it managed to bring an equally weak smile to her own lips.

“I didn’t mean to impose.” He began, sounding slightly stilted. 

“You aren’t.” She assured him. “I can leave if you wish to be alone.”

He eyed her for a long moment, as if surprised by her request, but he just shook his head and approached her slowly so he was standing at her side. 

“This is where I seem to find myself during these events, when I need to get away. I presume you are out here for the same reason.”

“Yes, I fear my feet have grown too tired to indulge in another dance.” She replied, hoping her words didn’t sound as dour to him as they did to her own ears.

Aemond seemed to grimace, the reminder of the many lords who had taken her hand for a dance stirring something within him he didn’t quite recognize. He didn’t care for it. 

“I probably shouldn’t have left, I just…”

“Needed a minute.” Aemond supplied as she trailed off. She nodded bashfully, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly hyper aware of her appearance as she realized this was the first time she had been alone with Aemond in years.

They were no longer childhood friends, they were betrothed. It was enough to drive her nerves to a boiling point where she could no longer meet his eye.

He stepped closer to her so he was leaning against the railing next to her, mirroring her position, an act that signaled ease.

“I had an interesting conversation with your brother.”

Her eyes widened. That was the last thing she had been expecting him to say. She was surprised Lucerys even listened to her request, that he had even attempted to approach the man he had scarred.

“I have a feeling that was your doing.”

She turned her head to meet his gaze and every fear she had that she had crossed the line faded in an instant as she saw the gratitude in his expression. 

“You have no obligation to forgive him.”

Aemond huffed out a laugh and bowed his head slightly. “Those were the exact words your brother said as well.”

She inwardly cursed her brother. He wasn’t supposed to say word for word what she had asked of him. 

“I just wished to solve the rift in our family. We can’t very well expect a happy marriage if we spend our time hating each other.”

“I never hated you.” Aemond responded quickly, his brows now furrowed as he moved in closer to her. “I may have.. complicated feelings for your brothers, but I… I never felt any of that towards you.”

She felt her breath hitch, her throat feeling tighter, as if she suddenly forgot to breathe with him so close to her. 

“Are you truly content with marrying a bastard?” 

Aemond flinched, her words so unexpected, he involuntarily took a step back, asif his instincts were telling him to run far from this conversation and never look back. He spoke her name softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ve whispered about our parentage our entire childhood. Am I to believe the sentiment now means nothing to you?” Her voice was cutting, but not with anger. She just sounded disappointed and somehow, Aemound found it so much worse.

“I never called you- it was never…” He stammered for a moment before sighing heavily, his teeth gritting as he looked out onto the horizon, desperately trying to find the words he needed to tell her she was never a part of the ire he held for her brothers. 

She watched him, a deep part of her feeling satisfaction to see him flounder as he was. She held much affection for Aemond, especially in their childhood, but his affliction for calling her brothers ‘Strong’ was always a source of hurt and caused many petty arguments between them before they had been separated.

“It was never about you.” He admitted quietly.

“They are my brothers, Aemond. I am not absolved from what you say about them.”

“But you are.” 

Her breath was stolen from her at the gravity of his words, at the sincerity she heard from him. She eyed him cautiously for a long moment, trying to gauge just what she felt for the man before her now, no longer the shy and sweet boy she had once known. 

She longed for him, but she wasn’t sure if the person she desperately desired even existed any more. 

But with how he looked at her, how hard he seemed to be trying to appease her, left her feeling defenseless against her own fears. 

“Why did you never write to me?” She asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, as though she regretted even posing the question. 

An expression crossed his face that she couldn’t recognize. He looked tortured, as if the mention of the part he played in their loss of friendship all those years ago brought him pain. The letters he received from her that were left unanswered had grated on him for years. 

Years ago, he had even written a letter to her to apologize for his silence, but his mother had caught him, tore the letter to shreds and warned him not to reach out to Rhaenyra’s bastard daughter, that he would only get hurt again if he dared to reconnect with them. 

“I never wished to ignore you.” He spoke softly. “It was just, after what had happened on Driftmark, my mother-”

“I understand.” She interrupted. The state of their family wasn’t the fault of themselves alone, their mothers had a complicated relationship they could barely comprehend. It was no fault of their own that they listened to the vitriol their mothers spoke in their years of hurt. 

“I never wanted to ignore you.” He repeated, as if he was desperate for her to believe him. 

The years of hurt that had cut her heart deeper and deeper with every unanswered letter she had sent slowly began to heal as she looked into his eye and saw the reverence with which he gazed at her. 

“I am willing to put the years behind me. If we are to be married, I don’t want there to be animosity between us.”

“There isn’t, at least on my part.” He assured her, looking to her hopefully, almost holding his breath for her next words.

“There is none on mine either.”

He nodded, the relief coursing through him feeling like the antidote to the years of guilt and sadness that surrounded his thoughts of her. His gaze met hers and the small smile, more genuine than the one she had greeted him with, caused his own to grow, a gesture that was no longer forced, but now one of hopeful excitement. 

The prospect of marriage no longer seemed so daunting.

~~

In the days leading up to the wedding, they didn’t see much of each other. 

She felt more lonely in the place she used to call home than she had expected. While she had her family, it was clear they were all on edge about the upcoming wedding and hadn’t exactly settled being in the Keep where the Hightower influence reigned supreme. 

She found herself taking Vermithor out daily to escape the tension among her family. 

The only peace she found was amongst the clouds, where the air was thinner, stealing the breath from her lungs. It was as if the reminder that there were things more dangerous than her own family was a comfort to her situation.

Suddenly, the earth shattering roar of a great beast sounded behind her, startling her. She turned quickly, her eyes widening as she saw the enormous figure of Vhagar taking to the skies, her gargantuan form heading towards her.

She watched the creature in awe, the great war dragon, centuries older than her, gliding through the skies like a beautiful relic. 

“It’s alright.” She soothed the dragon below her who grumbled at the unexpected presence of another. 

She kept her head turned, her eyes trailing the hulking figure that grew closer. A small smile curled on her lips as she spotted the silver hair of her betrothed atop his mighty dragon. 

As Vhagar approached, their eyes met, shared smiles passing between them. She gripped onto the reins in her hands and directed Vermithor forward, her large dragon diving towards the water below them. 

A trilled call from behind made her smile, knowing Vhagar was following suit. She looked over her shoulder, a warmth building within her as she saw Aemond guiding his dragon to follow her every move. 

The two of them didn’t share any words as they flew together in solidarity. She laughed as Vermithor let out a grumble of content. Her dragon suddenly titled, moving in closer to the dragon at his side, almost bumping the dragon beside them. 

She froze momentarily, gripping onto the reins tighter, preparing for an adverse reaction from the surly war dragon, but she could only watch in disbelief, her lips parting in awe as Vhagar crooned, a sound she had never heard from a dragon before, and bumped her head against Vermithor’s, a gesture that seemed almost affectionate.

She laughed, the warmth within her chest that had been stirring, now in full bloom. She turned to Aemond who watched the dragons with a small, amused smile. His head turned, their eyes meeting and as though a force greater than anything they had ever felt before, they couldn’t look away. 

As he looked at her, that lone blue eye encroached by a softness that was so familiar to her, she felt as though she was once again face to face with that boy she had loved all those years ago.

~~

Their wedding was a beautiful affair. 

No one would know it was a union between a fractured family. Though, it seemed as though their wedding was already stitching their broken family back together. Or it may have something to do with the amount of wine consumed. She noticed Helaena smiling happily as she danced with Jace. Aegon was drunkenly laughing with Luke who was smiling awkwardly, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else as Rhaena laughed on in his playful torment. 

Daemon sat next to his brother King, his smile soft as they spoke together intently. Her mother sat with Queen Alicent, the two of them deep in conversation, their hands finding each other as they descended into bouts of laughter like they were nothing more than two young girls again.

The sight made her happy. She knew her mother missed her old friend dearly and it looked as though Alicent had missed their friendship just as deeply. 

“Are you ready?” 

She turned on her heel to find Aemond, her husband, standing before her anxiously, his face a mask of anxious anticipation as he held his hand out to her. 

She swallowed and nodded stiffly, taking his hand as nerves as heavy as lead built within her. It was time for the bedding. Every happy thought in her head was gone in an instant as she suddenly could focus on nothing but the secret she kept from him. 

As he guided her out of the hall, her eyes met her mother, her face now serious, giving her a slow, knowing nod, reminding her to stay silent, to perform her duty and act as an untouched maiden. 

They walked in silence, the tension between them growing. 

They had been in a daze practically the entire day, their smiles shy yet glowing as they spoke their vows in the Sept, as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife. 

Their true first kiss had been years ago when they were merely eight years old. She had kissed him after he had yet another unsuccessful bout in the dragon pit and had stolen a chaste kiss as she brushed the dirt from his cheeks. 

She had never seen him turn so red before. 

They were a long way from those innocent children they had been.

“Are you alright?” He asked, startling her out of her long lost thoughts. She looked at him and was surprisingly relieved to see he looked just as nervous as she was sure she looked. 

“I am.” She assured him with an awkward smile. “Are you?”

“Yes.” He answered quickly, too quickly to portray any calmness about their current predicament. 

Their hearts were racing as they stepped inside their new marital chambers. She immediately moved to the vanity, working on removing the many pins from her hair that had been pinching her all night.

She sighed dramatically as the pressure on her skull was relieved and the sound of an amused hum, an almost sounding laugh, caught her attention. She looked over her shoulder to see Aemond watching her thoughtfully. 

The sight of him, the small upturn of his lips, the desire in his eye, should have stirred her own, but all she could feel was all consuming nerves. 

Tonight she’d have to lie to him. 

“You look beautiful.” 

His words startled her, her eyes widening slightly, not having expected the compliment. She smiled bashfully, trucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously as her gaze fell to the floor between them.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t told you that yet tonight. I haven’t told you since you’ve been back.” 

She was surprised by how forward he was, his words so sincere yet so different from the man she knew stood before her. 

It seemed she wasn’t the only one who longed for this marriage to be one of peace, to heal the wounds that had been so deeply ingrained in their family for so long. 

He approached her slowly, the look in his eye one she had never seen before. Desire. He reached out, his hand moving to her jaw, his touch light as he held her as if he were afraid she would flee. 

Her hands almost shook as she laid them across his strong chest, beginning to slowly undo the intricate buckles that covered him. 

He let her undo each one, the sound of his own heavy breath betraying his nerves. Once his chest laid bare before her did he finally pull her in close to him, his gaze locked on hers as he leaned in close before finally kissing her. 

He was soft, though as she responded to his kiss, he met her with fervor, portraying every ounce of pent up desire he’d unknowingly held for her for so long. He kissed her as if she were the very air he breathed. 

Her mind was a mess of thoughts, swirling with desire and agony as she desperately wished his lips had been the first she kissed so passionately, that his touch that tightened on her waist as he undid the laces on her gown, were the first hands to touch her so intimately. 

She couldn’t break herself from the thoughts as they moved to the bed. She couldn’t stop the heavy feeling of regret that tainted every one of his touches and fervent kisses. 

Her chest heaved, her guilt portraying as nerves for a perceived first bedding. Aemond ran his hands up the length of her thighs, his touch, which should have caused butterflies to fly rampant within her, only reminded her of the man who had touched her previously. 

He kissed her softly as he settled himself atop her. 

“I’m sorry… this- it might hurt you.”

The claw of guilt inside her turned into a fist that clenched tightly and she squeezed her eyes shut. 

“It’s alright.” She breathed out.

He kissed her again though the gesture, filled with so much affection, did little to soothe her as he intended to. 

She kept her eyes on the ceiling, the guilt keeping her from looking at her husband, from seeing the eagerness in his gaze as he took her for the first time.

He eased inside of her slowly, the sound of his breath stuttering catching her attention, almost enough to incite her own arousal if her mind wasn’t tainted with worry, of suddenly being found out and ruined before she even got to enjoy her marriage.

With hatred for herself burning hotly within her she mimicked a sound of discomfort as he settled inside her. 

“Are you alright?” He asked slightly breathlessly, his gaze looking down at her in concern. 

She nodded stiffly, her throat tight as she met his eye. She soon wondered if the guilt would stop her breathing before he could even finish. 

She tried her best to forget about the glaring guilt, she tried not to think about her night with Ser Darick, of the man who touched her before that shouldn’t have. She should’ve been in ecstasy to finally be laying with the man she had dreamed of for years, but as he moved inside her, she couldn’t help but wince, her lack of arousal keeping her from enjoying what she had desired for so long. 

It at least helped with her charade of the innocent maiden who feared the marriage bed. 

She watched her husband with barely contained emotion as his eye closed in pleasure, his lips parted with heavy breaths, the sound of his quiet moans had her wishing she could go back in time and never invite that Knight into her bed. 

As she watched him find his pleasure, as he stuttered out her name in delight, she knew she could never hurt him. She could never reveal her secret for she could never cause him pain. 

Above her, Aemond stiffened, his hips losing momentum, his grip on her hips tightening as he lost himself to his pleasure, a loud grunt falling from his lips as he reached his peak. 

She exhaled loudly, an empty feeling settling within her, the guilt and anger at herself melding into self-loathing despair. 

“I hurt you.” He breathed out, sounding pained as his hand cradled her cheek, his thumb wiping away the tear she hadn’t realized had fallen. 

“I’m ok.” She assured her, though with how stilted her voice sounded, she knew he didn’t believe her. 

He pulled out of her slowly and moved to lay next to her, his worried gaze never leaving hers. He moved his hand to rest at the back of her neck, gently urging her forward so his forehead could rest against hers. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered and she felt her eyes sting with more tears, his affection stirring the loathing that lashed her like a whip.

She shook her head and leaned into him, grasping onto his hand, holding tightly. 

“I wish we could have had this earlier.” She whispered, the only admittance she could allow herself. 

Aemond smiled softly and kissed her again, his touch gentle and careful, as if he worried about hurting her more. 

“So do I.” 

He held her as she struggled to sort out of her emotions, unaware of the torment within her. 

~~

By the next morning, she woke from a tumultuous sleep to find herself alone in bed. 

Her heart began to race as she propped herself up, dread coursing within her veins as she suddenly feared the worst. That, somehow in the night, Aemond had figured out the truth and left in a rage, leaving her behind before she could even enjoy what they could’ve had. 

“Good morning.”

The sound of his voice broke her out of her dark thoughts and she turned abruptly to see her new husband strolling in through the open balcony doors. He smiled lightly, looking slightly bashful to see her in such a vulnerable state, as if he hadn’t laid with her just hours before. 

“The maids brought breakfast.” 

She nodded and moved to peel the covers off her, hiding her wince at the flare of discomfort at the back of her thigh from where she had given herself a small cut after her husband had fallen asleep, using the small wound to stain the sheets with her blood that would not fall between her tainted legs. 

She stood from the bed, oblivious to how Aemond’s eye followed the length of her body with intrigue as she reached for her robe. They shared small smiles, the air of awkwardness lingering as they stepped out onto the balcony together. 

She immediately moved to pour herself a cup of tea, taking a much needed sip of the hot drink, praying it would soothe her frayed nerves. As Aemond took a seat next to her, she poured a second cup, adding a spoonful of honey before sliding it over to him. 

His gaze remained on her, as if in awe, as she took another sip. 

Feeling his eye on her, she turned, her brows raising in question at the beseeched expression on his face. 

“Is everything alright?” She asked slowly and he nodded, clearing his throat, leaning his elbow on his knee as his curled fist covered his lips, covering the smile that began to grow. 

“You remembered how I take my tea in the morning.” He spoke softly. 

She felt her stomach twist, this time for reasons completely different from the regret that had been staunchly drowning her since the night before. 

“Of course I did.” She said quietly with a shrug. “I wouldn’t forget anything about you.”

Her words, the knowledge that she had thought of him just as he had thought of her, had longed for him just as he had longed for her all those years they were separated, had a warmth spreading through him he had never felt before. 

Any trepidation he had about the marriage, any qualms he had about Rhaenyra taking her place on the throne, of his nephews back in King’s Landing, shattered in an instant. Everything else seemed so inconsequential to him now that he married her, now that he got to call her his wife. 

He reached out, slightly hesitantly, his heart racing as he placed his hand over hers. 

Their eyes met and it was as if an understanding passed between them, a final puzzle piece falling into place. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

She nodded quickly and smiled as he leaned in. Their lips met in a gentle, unhurried kiss that was filled with quiet affection, the meeting of a new husband and wife who had just come to an understanding, who had put away years of complicated feelings and settled to live as the pair of childhood companions that felt nothing but love for each other.

As he kissed her, she forced herself to move past the pain in the back of her thigh. Under his assured yet gentle touch, she forced her guilt and regret to the depths of her mind, desperate to find peace with him. 

~~

Over the next couple of months, their marriage flourished in ways neither one of them had expected. Their time spent together had seemed to heal every slight from their childhood, leaving the both of them feeling lighter, no longer shrouded in the guise of hatred. 

It would take time for Aemond to come around to her brothers, but he was finding it easier to let go of the fury that used to permeate every thought of them. They were by no means friends, but it was at least becoming easier to simply look at them, to exist among them. 

One morning, as Rhaenyra and Alicent took their morning tea together in the gardens, they caught sight of the newly married couple, arm in arm, barely an inch of space between them. 

“They are quite the match.” Alicent remarked with a smile as she looked at her son, the easy expression on his face a far cry from the scowl that had become all too familiar from her second son. 

“They are.” Rhaenyra agreed, relief flowing through her as she heard her daughter’s laugh from across the yard, watching as she leaned into her husband. 

She was more than thankful her dear daughter’s secret remained. 

“I am sorry I took so long to agree to their union.” Alicent admitted almost shyly. “To see my Aemond as he is now, so carefree, so… unburdened with her. I regret that my hesitation caused him to suffer for longer than he needed to.”

Rhaenyra frowned and reached out, taking her friend’s hand, curling her fingers around her own. 

“There is nothing to forgive. They are happy now… we are happy now. That is what matters.”

Alicent smiled, her eyes filled with emotion she hadn’t let herself reveal for so long. She squeezed Rhaenyra’s hand in silent comfort. 

“I have heard the maids gossiping. It sounds as though it will not be long until there is a new babe to care for.” 

Rhaenyra’s jaw dropped, a scandalized laugh escaping her as she looked at her friend, usually so demure, in disbelief. 

“Oh gods, do not let them know they are being gossiped about.” 

Alicent giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. 

“I would never. I do not think my son would ever return to court if that were the case.”

“They are late to every dinner. Surely they know it is not much of a secret what they are doing.” Rhaenyra commented, descending them both into laughter once more.

While the both of them laughed as though they were young girls again, the two of them couldn’t help but feel as though an enormous weight had been lifted from their shoulders, allowing them to breathe easier. 

The union between their children gave them what they needed, what they were desperately hoping for. The fact that their children were just as happy with each other was everything they needed to heal themselves. 

They soon lost sight of their children and, judging by the gossip they heard from the maids, they thought they preferred not knowing exactly what they were getting up to.  

It was for the better because the second Aemond had enough of the desire raging through his body, he had dragged his wife back to their chambers, only a mere hour after they had left it for the morning. 

He couldn’t get enough of her. 

He could barely get through his day without succumbing to his fire that burned hotly for her. Their walk in the garden, their duties for the rest of the day were long forgotten as he took her roughly atop her vanity, the wooden legs shaking beneath their passionate affair.

“Aemond!” She called out, her hands tightening at the back of his head where she had fistfulls of his hair. He groaned and quickened his pace, thrusting into her with the ferocity of an animal. 

Over their time together, she had been able to relax around him, thinking less and less of that horrible night with her guard that could have ruined everything. She allowed herself to fall into him, to let herself think of nothing but him, and she couldn’t have been more thankful.

He took her daily, their union fiercely passionate, the two of them quickly becoming insatiable for each other. 

“Fuck, darling, you are perfect.” Aemond growled, his hips never faltering in their harsh rhythm as he took her roughly. 

The way he took her now and had been for weeks was a far cry from the tepid and shy man she had seen on their wedding night. 

Cries fell from her lips as she desperately held him, her only tether in the haze of pleasure he now could so easily spiral her to. 

“Don’t stop.” She begged breathlessly, her head falling back to her shoulders, her eyes shut tightly as he fucked her so hard it was all she could do to hold and enjoy the ride. 

“Never, my love, I'll never stop.” He promised her, the desperation in his voice clear. He panted heavily as his hips moved with precision, eager to reach that spot he knew ruined her completely. 

He longed to see her unravel, he longed to hear her scream for him. It had quickly become the greatest thing he had ever been fortunate enough to witness and his greatest accomplishment. 

His grip on her hips tightened, his awed gaze fluttering over her form, eager to take in every inch of her. 

Her toes curled, a high pitched moan sounding as her body tensed, as she felt herself creeping up on the crest of blinding pleasure. 

“That’s it love, cum for me. Do it for me, I need it.” He rambled, his voice rough, causing shivers to race down her spine. 

Her nails dug into his shoulders and his answering grunt of pleasure undid her completely. She screamed his name, her hips jolting against his as she reached her peak. Aemond held her tightly, his arms moving around her back to hold him to her as his hips stuttered, becoming frantic in his final moments.

“Fuck… fuck!” He yelled as he felt her tighten around him.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, planting sloppy kisses along the delicate slope before he felt the curling of hazy pleasure unfurl within him. 

His eye squeezed shut, his jaw fell slack as a breathless moan escaped him as he came. Small cries left him, his hips continuing to move, losing their intensity as he spilled inside her. 

Their shared heavy breaths echoed throughout the room as neither one of them moved an inch. He continued to hold her tightly, wrapped around her completely. He shivered against her as she began to caress the length of his back, her soft hands moving up and down gently, causing him to sigh in delight. 

After a few long moments, as they caught their breath, he pulled away, nudging his nose against hers, smirking lightly at the sight of her so thoroughly spent. He kissed her assuredly, his tongue tangling with hers, his touch still firm, as if he were still desperate for her. 

They parted with the need for air, soft smiles shared between the two, almost bashful, as if they hadn’t just fucked debauchedly as though they were in a brothel. He pulled out of her and began to clean the mess between her thighs, delighting in the way she’d twitch against his touches, thoroughly overstimulated from his hands. 

“Do you remember when you put jam in my hair?” He asked suddenly, causing her to look down at him with a raised brow in disbelief. 

“You are thinking about that now?”

The childhood memory was not forgotten but she certainly hadn’t been thinking of it after he had ravished her.

“With how you were just pulling on it, I’m beginning to think you have some kind of vendetta against my hair.” He remarked with a smirk as he pulled his breeches back up and grabbed his discarded doublet that she’d torn off him. 

She laughed and shook her head, her eyes trailing his every move, pouting almost reflexively as he dressed himself, covering up that beautiful body from her eager gaze. 

“It is beautiful. Perhaps I am trying to sabotage you out of jealousy.” She smiled coyly.

“Jealousy?” He echoed in disbelief. “Darling, you are the most stunning woman in the realm, you have little to be jealous of.”

She felt her cheeks heat as she half-heartedly rolled her eyes. Since they had become more comfortable with each other, his compliments had been never ending, never failing to make her swoon each and every time. 

“So, same time tomorrow?” She joked, to which he snorted and looked over at her, nothing but adoration in his eye. 

He stepped toward her again, pulling the fallen sleeve of her dress back in place.

“Oh, darling, I will have you again tonight, surely.” He drawled, reveling in the way she seemed to shiver against him, already eagerly anticipating the night and agonizing over the hours between. 

He kissed her again and leaned his forehead against hers, as if he needed a moment longer with her before parting from her side. 

“I will find you once I am finished.” He assured her. 

As he left her to continue with his duties for the day he had steadily been ignoring, she finished cleaning herself up and fixing her disheveled hair. 

Her smile remained as she righted her dress, her legs trembling slightly as she made slow steps across their chambers. She just knew Baela would be dragging their salacious actions out of her the second she saw her. 

The giddy feeling within her crumbled into dust the moment she opened the door and came face to face with the one person she was content to never see again.

Her face fell, a look of horror overtaking her features.

“Ser Darick.” 

Her voice shook as she greeted him, which seemed to only deepen his smug grin. 

“Princess.” He bowed dutifully. “It has been too long.”

The sarcasm that laced his words cut her deeply and she averted her gaze, her heart racing wildly. The memories of that fateful night, the guilt that she had been able to push into the depths of her mind resurfaced with the force of a punch, almost enough to knock her off her feet.

She didn’t spare the man another look as she took off down the hall, her face crumbling into a deep frown as frustrated tears filled her eyes.

He would ruin everything.

~~

Her hand was clutched to her mother’s, her retelling of the day striking a need for her motherly touch. 

“I will take care of it.”

“How?”

“I will find a way.”

She remained silent, her face twisted with fear and disgust.

“What if he knows?”

“He doesn’t.”

“You cannot know that. Why would he be reassigned to me? Surely this is some plot to ruin me.” She rambled, her worried mind not allowing her to think straight. 

“The guards are spread thin here. We needed more help so guards from Dragonstone were requested here, but I… I had no idea he would be assigned to you.”

She sighed heavily, her mother’s words doing little to reassure her.

“I can’t keep lying to him.”

“Darling-”

“I love him and I can’t stand the fact that our marriage is built on a lie.”

Rhaenyra clenched her jaw, her teeth pulling her bottom lip tightly. Before she could even attempt to soothe her daughter the door opened and Daemon stepped into their shared chambers. 

Both women tensed, sitting up straighter in their seats at his unexpected arrival. 

His eyes flitted between both women curiously, immediately sensing the tension in the room.

“Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine, my love.”

His wife’s words did little to soothe the awkward energy in the room.

“What are you two discussing?”

“Guard rotations.” 

Daemon looked at his step-daughter with narrowed eyes, the topic one he had not expected. His instincts were telling him something was wrong, that he was being lied to. 

“Is someone not to your liking?”

“Ser Darick has been assigned as her guard and we hoped we could find someone else for her.”

“Why?”

“No specific reason-” Rhaenyra attempted to diffuse the situation, but he had seen right through it, he knew something was amiss.

“I don’t understand. Ser Darick was your guard for years, he was loyally by your side, he watched over you, he cared for-”

Daemon’s sentence stopped abruptly, as if he had suddenly realized the double meaning in his words. His eyes narrowed, the angry fire burning within him so hotly she had to turn away from his gaze. He looked to his wife, as if needing confirmation to the thought burning in his brain.

When Rhaenyra sighed disappointedly, her gaze moving away from his, he felt as though he had the answer to the horrible explanation he had conjured.

Within a second he unsheathed his sword, causing his daughter to flinch and Rhaenyra to get to her feet. 

“Daemon-”

“Where is he?”

“You need to calm down-”

“I will strike every limb from his body and string him-”

“Please stop!” She yelled, stopping her father’s detailed description of the torture he would inflict on the man he believed to have committed an egregious crime.

“You cannot seriously be protecting the man that took advantage of you. He touched you, he raped you! He should be fed to our dragons!”

“He didn’t rape me!” 

Daemon remained quiet, taking in her words slowly. His face twisted, an expression of confusion soon morphing into dread and she shifted in her seat under his intense glare.

“You didn’t.” He spat. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“Daemon, please.”

“You let that guard into your bed?”

She leaned her elbows on her knees, her head falling into her hands as she breathed heavily, embarrassment washing over her like a tidal wave that threatened to drown her. She would surely welcome it. 

“It was a mistake.” Rhaenyra chimed in, trying to ease the fury in her husband. 

“Of course it was a fucking mistake.” Daemon bellowed. “How could you be so simple minded?”

She raised her head, staring plainly at the man before her. She’d heard about his tales before he had married her mother, the Prince of Flea Bottom, the many times he had been banished by the King and he had the audacity to shame her about who she bedded.

“Your hypocrisy is astounding.” 

“Don’t be cute.” Daemon scolded. He tightened his grip on his sword, his anger still burning. “I’m still going to kill him.”

“You are going to do no such thing. Rumors will spread if a guard mysteriously winds up murdered. We will solve this quietly and reassign him so he will never lay his eyes on you again and you will never tell a soul about what happened that night.” Rhaenyra countered, her eyes locked onto her daughter sternly.

She could only nod, the guilt she’d steadily buried in the face of her happiness, in the bliss she’d found with Aemond, now clawing its way forward, threatening to tear her apart piece by piece.

~~

“There you are.” Aemond greeted her with a smile, bending down to press a kiss to the top of her head. Their chambers had been empty when he returned from training and he knew the first place to look for her was Helaena’s chambers. 

Her heart skipped as she saw him, her mind racing, screaming at her to blurt out her secret, to spill everything that was weighing heavily on her, darkening her soul, but she found no words could escape her. 

She smiled stiffly, forcefully pushing past the overwhelming regret and sadness that threatened to choke her. 

“Are you finished with your training?”

He nodded as he took a seat next to her, his soft smile directed to the children who played at his feet. 

“I am and I suddenly found myself in desperate need of my wife’s company.” 

“Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, but we were just about to leave.”

“Leave? Where are you going?”

“We are going to the markets in Flea Bottom.” Helaena answered happily, oblivious to the way her brother’s expression darkened at her words. 

Aemond looked to her desperately, as if pleading with her to tell him his sister was mistaken, that she wasn’t going to roam the dangerous streets of Flea Bottom. 

She sighed, taking his hand in hers.

“She wishes to find gifts for the twins’ name day.” She spoke softly so the children would not hear. 

“Send servants.”

“She wants to pick them out herself.”

Aemond exhaled loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. He startled when his wife stood from the couch and he reached out for her hand, but she was already walking away. 

“Come with us brother.” Helaena offered, oblivious to the torment unfurling in her protective sibling. “We will be taking guards, but we will be more protected with you at our side.” 

She smiled widely and linked her arm through Helaena’s, looking to her faithful husband.

“Well, you heard her.”

Aemond let out a long sigh, the thought of his beloved and his dear sister venturing down the dangerous streets of King’s Landing loathsome, but with one look at his wife’s stare, he was powerless to refuse her wishes. 

“Just for a short visit.”

The wide smile she gave in return was all he needed to stop himself from refusing the offer. 

He followed behind the two women, their group of guards walking behind him faithfully as they made their way into the city. 

Aemond kept his eyes fleeting between his sweet sister and his beloved wife as they perused each vendor they passed. He admired his wife as her face lit up at the sight of a beautiful trinket that had caught her eye. He admired the way she smiled at each vendor, politely asking them questions, dignifying their compliments about her beauty and kindness. 

She was truly a marvel, the most beautiful sight to behold. 

“Aemond, look, isn’t this beautiful?” Helaena called out to him, breaking him from his trance as she held up a butterfly figurine. “I think Jaehaera will find this absolutely divine, she’s always admiring the butterflies in the garden.”

“She will love it.” He assured her with a small smile, following her as the ever protective brother he was as they ventured to the next vendor, caught up with another bout of glasswork she had found. 

He felt as though he had only taken his eyes off his wife for a minute when the yelling started. A fight had broken out between two vendors and the crowd around them had responded to the sudden surge of violence with equal measure.

His arm immediately went around Helaena who cowered and covered her ears as the crowd yelled and became insufferably loud. He briefly made eye contact with a man in the crowd, the lowborn recognizing the pair of royals before him and, as most disparities of power result, decided to direct his anger towards them. 

Aemond guided Helaena into the capable hands of her guard as he unsheathed his sword menacingly, warning the crowd not to try their luck with the famed one-eyed dragon prince. 

The crowd soon became raucous, screaming, shouting and pushing at anyone they could get their hands onto. 

Aemond quickly spotted his sister being scurried away from the action, though his stomach dropped when he could not spot his wife. 

He yelled her name, the sound lost in the chaos of the riotous crowd. He pushed people out of the way carelessly, elbowing his way back to where he had last seen her. His heart dropped at the sight of her absence. He became more desperate, his voice sounding weak as he stood atop a vendor’s booth, trying to catch a glimpse of her.

The longer he did not see her, the more fear encased every inch of him.

~~

A muffled scream left her as a sturdy hand latched over her mouth, a strong arm wrapped around her waist as she was carried away from the action of the riots ensuing in the streets of King’s Landing. 

She hadn’t seen Helaena or Aemond. As soon as the fighting started she had been dragged away, seemingly against her will. She had thought it was a member of the King’s Guard but as the hand stayed steadily over her mouth and the painful arm carrying her through the streets of Flea Bottom refused to recede, she became more and more fearful of who had latched onto her.

The grip on her slackened and she quickly pushed her way out of the grip, her expression a mask of derision as she faced who had manhandled her so roughly. Her face fell, an icy feeling of dread spreading through her veins as she met the gaze of Ser Darick. 

He sneered and gripped her arm again, pulling her into his side. 

“Stop struggling, Princess, we don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.” He warned, though it sounded more like a threat as he pulled her along with him back to the Red Keep.

She remained still, allowing him to drag her forward, her face passive as they made their way through the halls of the Keep. She felt equal parts relief and dread as he forced her into her chambers. 

He slammed the door shut behind them, his face dark with anger, his hand still sturdily gripping her arm.

“You have brought me back, now leave.” She ordered harshly as she wrenched her arm out of his grip.

“Not until we talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about.” 

“You invited me into your bed, let me fuck you and then ignored me. I deserve to know why.” He argued angrily. Her face twisted with derision, at the reminder of that night she had acted so carelessly.

“I am truly sorry for how I treated you, it was wrong of me to take such liberties. But the night we had was simply a night of desperation. I am married now. I love my husband and you need to move on.” 

He scoffed, looking at her with nothing but derision.

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What?”

“That night. It didn’t mean nothing to you. It couldn’t have.” 

He stepped towards her, forcing her to take frantic steps backwards, but he was quicker. He gripped onto her shoulders, his touch strong and harsh. 

“Let go of me.” She hissed through gritted teeth, her heart racing, the beginnings of dread seeping through her, chilling the blood that ran through her veins. 

“I know you felt something that night. No one could fake that passion. I know you feel something for me. I know you have for years.” 

Her eyes widened, staring back at the man completely dumbfounded as she squirmed under his hands.

“You have gone mad.”

“I gave you pleasure that night, Princess. I made you cum under me. I made you moan for me.” He spoke earnestly, making her wince and shake her head, desperately trying to pry his hands off her.

“It meant nothing.”

“Of course it did!” 

“Get off!” She yelled as she pushed at his chest, causing him to stumble a few paces back. 

The door suddenly slammed open, her breathless and worried husband storming into their chambers. He seemed to deflate in relief when he saw her, every ounce of fear dissipating in a second, though when he noticed the guard in their chambers, his expression twisted into confusion.

“Are you hurt?” He asked worriedly, stepping towards her hurriedly, assuming she had been injured in the fight and that was the reason the guard was in the room with her alone. 

“No, I’m fine.” She assured him, her voice quivering. 

He grabbed her trembling hands in his, looking over her in concern briefly before his untrusting eye turned towards the guard who couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

The anger in his gaze did not go unnoticed by Aemond who stiffened, his hand reaching for the sword at his hip instinctively. 

The guard smiled sardonically to his wife, the sight setting the blood in his veins on fire. 

“Princess.” He bowed and turned on his heel, leaving the room. The fact that he did not address Aemond only angered him further. 

“Who was that?” Aemond questioned the second the door closed behind him. 

“He was my guard at Dragonstone.” She answered monotonously, her chest aching in fear as her waking nightmare unfurled before her.

“Did he hurt you?” Aemond’s anger flared as he looked at her questioningly, his gaze searching her frantically for any indication that her guard had stepped out of place. 

“No, he didn’t hurt me.” She spoke quietly, omitting mentioning the bruises she was sure would be blooming on her arm from his harsh grip.

He stared at her quizzically, knowing deep within him that something was wrong. The look on her face, one of muted horror, was striking and the fact that she couldn’t meet his eye had worry stirring within him so strongly his hand twitched towards his sword once again, ready to strike down the mysterious guard at her command. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I-”

“Yes, you’ve said that, but I do not believe you.” He interrupted, fighting between his confusion and his worry as she flinched at his harsh tone. He wanted to reach out to her, but something held him back, something he didn’t quite understand. 

She wrapped her arms around herself as she turned away from him. He called her name slowly, his critical eye never leaving her. 

“Who is he?”

“He is no one.”

His heart raced and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach as a multitude of answers swirled through his mind, none of them bringing any kind of peace.

“Do you love him?” He asked abruptly, jumping to the worst conclusion he could have possibly conjured.

“No, of course not!” She yelled, perturbed by the mere question. 

“Then why does he look at you as if you have a history?”

“I swear to you, Aemond, he is nothing to me.”

“So nothing has happened between you two?”

She remained quiet, her mind racing with a million different answers to the question, most lies, but only one truth, the one that spoke the loudest.

Her silence rang loud in the room and Aemond’s face shifted instantly, first to shock, then disbelief, then betrayal, and finally to fury. 

“You… you and him…” He startled slowly, trying to find the words to explain the blinding anger that overtook him so greatly it soon became hard to breathe.

The images that his mind created, visions of her tangled in the sheets with that man, her soft touch on his body, her sweet moans he relished given to him. 

“Aemond-”

“You fucked him?”

“Please-”

“Answer me. Did you fuck him?”

Her breath caught in her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears. Her world was crashing down around her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. 

“Yes.” She breathed out weakly.

A bitter laugh left him, a sound filled with so much anger it made her wince, tears beginning to burn in her eyes. 

“Aemond, please, I can explain-” She began as she approached him, reaching out for his hand, but he yanked his arm away from her, staring back at her with such vitriol it was as if a dagger had been lodged in her chest.

“Explain what? That you have been lying to me this entire time? That I married a whore?” 

Her eyes widened, his words striking her harshly. She had seen him angry before, she had seen him vindictive before, but it had never been directed at her, he had never spoken to her with such hatred, as if he were eager to hurt her. 

“It was before our marriage. I have never even looked at another man since I knew you were to be my husband.”

He shook his head, his chest heaving, an ache settling deep within him. Jealousy tore through him roughly, all he could think of was her tangled passionately with another man, and it made him see red. 

She reached for him again and he shut her down with a vicious scowl. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

She breathed heavily, her own anger beginning to rise at his stubborn refusal to listen to her. She knew if he ever found out it would cause a rift, but she had thought after the time they had spent together, that what they shared would be too special to let a mistake from the past rupture the beautiful love they had carved for themselves.

“Are you serious?” She snapped, her patience wearing thin the longer he directed his fury towards her. 

She thought of Daemon’s reaction, of Aemond’s disgusted scowl, and it made her seethe. If she had been a man no one would be batting an eye and she wanted to scream at how entirely unfair life was simply because of what lay between her legs.

“I had one night and I am penalized but you can do whatever you want with your body and I am just supposed to accept it. As if you haven’t followed Aegon to the brothels.”

“I am not my brother!” He yelled fiercely, his overt anger making her flinch. 

She stayed quiet, her anger receding as quick as it had come, leaving her with nothing but guilt. She knew she had crossed a line. 

Anybody could see how different the Targaryen brothers were, how much more accustomed to duty and honor Aemond was, how he refused to defile himself and shame his family as Aegon continued to do. 

It was deadly silent between them, neither one of them with anything productive or relatively polite to say to the other. 

With a clenched jaw, Aemond stormed out of the room without sparing her a look. 

His breath left him in uneven pants as he stormed down the hall, unaware of where he was headed. 

Images of her, his sweet wife, his beloved, wrapped up in another man’s arms replayed in his head torturously. He felt his eye sting with emotion he desperately attempted to hold at bay. 

He loved his wife, but this was agony. 

He loved her, but she had lied to him. 

He didn’t know what to make sense of the situation. He didn’t even know what to make sense of what he was feeling. 

He was at a loss as to what his marriage held. 

The only thing he could make out in the whirlwind of thoughts was pain. 

~~

He avoided her for the rest of the day and the next, choosing to sleep in his old chambers instead of returning to her. 

He couldn’t bear to face her, not after what he had yelled at her so callously, not after he had called her a whore, not after he had spent hours picturing her with that guard. 

It was agonizing to think of. 

He avoided dinner, giving flimsy excuses to the maids that dared to approach him. 

He sat out on the balcony of his old chambers, gazing out sightlessly into the night before him. The sound of his chamber doors opening had him rolling his eye, looking over his shoulder at the intruder with a scowl.

Aegon gave him an annoyed look. 

“You know you have mother worried sick? She sent me to find you, you twat.”

Aemond remained quiet as he turned to look back out onto the horizon. 

“What are you doing out here?” Aegon asked as he took a seat at his side, causing him to sigh loudly, not bothering to hide his disdain for his presence. “I figured you would be busy fucking your wife. You seem to do little else lately.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he steadily refused to meet his brother’s eyes.

“What? Has your paradise been ruined already?” Aegon joked, though when he received no reaction from Aemond, not even anger, he knew something was truly wrong. “What happened?” He asked, sounding more sincere than even he expected.

Aemond remained quiet for a long moment, dreading to say the words aloud, as if it made them more real than they already were. 

“She had a dalliance with a guard.”

“She has been unfaithful?”

“It was before she came back to King’s Landing, before the wedding.” He mumbled.

Aegon was quiet for a few seconds as he took in his brother’s words and eventually shrugged nonchalantly. 

“So?” 

Aemond glared coldly at his brother, the flippant response sparking his fury once more. 

“Finding out your wife let another man into her bed isn’t exactly comforting news.”

“It happened before she was your wife and, judging by how infatuated she seems with you, I’m willing to bet it happened before she knew you were the one she was to marry.” 

Aemond sighed loudly, no matter the circumstances, no matter whatever explanation he could think of, it did nothing to quell the green eyed beast that took over him. He had grown to deeply love his wife, the girl he had latched onto in childhood, the only one who seemed to root for him. 

The thought of her in the clutches of lust with anyone that wasn’t him was enough to incite his anger. 

He had never had a passionate, loving embrace. He certainly didn’t count what he endured on his thirteenth nameday, the moment that brought him nothing but shame. To think that she could so easily bring someone into her bed, have someone touch her lovingly, bring her pleasure, just as he could to her, stirred a fury in him he could barely comprehend.

“So, she betrayed you, what happens next?” Aegon asked, a smarmy smirk growing on his lips, striking Aemond’s anger before he could even speak of the depravities that mingled in his mind. “How about I take you down to the Silk Street and you can get back at her.”

In the blink of an eye, Aemond was on his feet, his face drawn tightly with fury, his angry glare locked onto his brother who laughed raucously at his reaction.

“Easy!” He yelled, shoving his brother’s hands off of him that gripped his shirt, ready to throttle him. “Gods, you have no sense of humor.”

“You know you don’t have to be here.” Aemond growled, sending his brother a final fierce scowl that silently threatened him of saying anything untoward about his marriage, before settling himself back in his seat. 

Aegon watched his brother carefully, noting the agony within him and he sighed.

“Look, you clearly care about her. She is your wife and you two have been able to build a bond which is more than many can say.”

Aemond looked at him, surprised by his honest words, surprised that he wasn’t slurring as he spoke. 

“Are you willing to give that up for a mistake she made before you loved each other?”

He looked taken aback at the question. The mere thought of letting her go was unfathomable. The thought was so horrible it turned his stomach more than his jealousy ever could. 

“I cannot stop picturing her with him.” He admitted quietly, almost shamefully. 

Aegon sighed, while he didn’t have anyone he loved as Aemond loved his wife, he had to admit, it didn't sound easy to picture the woman you loved in the arms of another man.

“So, let’s say you give up, what then? She marries someone else and warms their bed instead?” 

Aemond grit his teeth and sent a wicked glare to his brother who held his hands up in surrender. 

“Just think about it, brother. Get over it or let her go.” Aegon stated bluntly before parting from his side, leaving him to bury his head in his hands, a long slow breath falling past his lips. 

He didn’t want to let her go, he didn’t want to end what they had, he didn’t want to lose her. 

He breathed deeply again, forcing the green-eyed monster within him to retreat, to let him think clearly for once. 

He pictured her face, her teary eyes as she stared at him in disbelief as he threw horrible insults her way. He winced, his eye squeezing shut, as if the memory itself hurt him physically. 

He had to make this right. 

~~

He stepped into their shared chambers, his body rigid with nervous anticipation. He startled slightly as the sight of her was suddenly blocked, Baela having immediately got to her feet at the sight of him, standing in front of her half-sister protectively. 

“What do you think you’re doing here?” 

Aemond rolled his eye, sending a glare to the stubborn woman. 

“These are my chambers.” 

“Are they now? They haven’t seemed to be yours the past few days.” Baela responded sarcastically, forcing him to hold back a wince at the reminder of how he’d left his wife alone and worried for days on end in his fit of anger and jealousy.

He looked past Baela to find her looking back at him worriedly, wondering if this was the moment he left for good. The sight pained him deeply and he sighed heavily.

“I came here to talk.” He spoke softly, looking past her human shield, trying to appeal to his kind wife. 

“I think you’ve said plenty.” 

“Baela, it’s ok.” She said softly, hoping to stop her half-sister before she ended up in a physical fight with her husband. With how angry Baela had been on her behalf she knew it was certainly a possibility. 

Baela looked back at her questioningly, to which she nodded, silently assuring her she would be ok. 

With a sour expression, Baela left her side, her glare darkening as she passed the one eyed prince.

“If I see any more tears fall from her eyes, not even Vhagar will save you from me.” She threatened before stepping out of their chambers. 

Aemond let out a long breath. The sight of his wife upset cut him deeply, he knew he would let Baela inflict whatever pain she wanted on him if he hurt her any more. 

He looked at her, subtly wincing as he noticed she was looking away, refusing to meet his gaze. He moved forward slowly, never taking his eye off her as he approached. He sat on the opposite couch, making sure to leave space between them.

He didn’t think she’d be comfortable with anything else and he didn’t think he deserved to be so close to her, not after what he had said to her just days ago. 

“I’m sorry for what I said. I was angry and I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve my words.” He started quietly. 

She remained quiet, her gaze yet to meet his. The longer she didn’t look at him, the quicker his heart raced.

“I want to understand. I know you have no feelings for this man, but… it may kill me, but I want to know what happened between you two.”

“Why would that change things?” She asked stiffly.

“What?”

“You know I have no love for this man, you know I only care for you. So what more do you need to know?”

Aemond swallowed against the lump that grew in his throat. Aegon’s words came back to him, that her dalliance could have happened before she even knew they were to be married. 

“I need to know that I wasn’t the cause of this.”

She turned to him fully, her brows furrowed as she looked at him in bewilderment. She was sure a piece of her heart had shattered. He thought she had chosen to jump into bed with a guard because the news of her marriage to him was so horrible she was desperate to seek comfort. 

She let out a shaking breath and smoothed down the skirt of her dress. 

“Do you remember Lady Eleanor?”

Aemond looked confused for a moment at the sudden turn in conversation, but took a moment to think deeply before nodding. 

“She was your friend when we were children.” He answered softly. “I remember I could scarcely find any time with you without her presence.”

She smiled at the onslaught of memories that rushed through her mind, all hazed in the happiness of childhood innocence, though she was quick to be reminded of the grief that rose at the mere thought of her old friend. 

“She was married off to a Tully Lord. The man was older than her father. His past three wives all died mysteriously, no one dared to question why.” She explained stiffly. “I could tell from her letters that she wasn’t happy.”

Aemond watched her, frowning slightly at the dull tone of her voice, of the tortured look in her eyes, as if she was recounting something too painful to ever speak of again. He sat up straighter, longing to reach out to her, but he held back, suddenly reminding himself of the rift between them. 

“She birthed him a daughter, just as his previous wives had. The next day they found her body by the river.” She spoke quietly, her voice growing hoarse with emotion. “They could barely recognize her, she was black and blue, every bone broken by his hands.”

Aemond shifted in his seat, an unsettled feeling growing within him. He remembered the annoying little girl who followed his niece around and now felt nothing but horror at the memory of her. 

“Her husband faced no punishment. No one dared to question why yet another young girl was dead. I don’t even know what happened to the babe, if she-” She stopped abruptly, unable to finish the thought. 

Her vision blurred with tears which only began to steadily slip down her cheeks as she felt his hand take hers, their fingers intertwining. 

“His name was in consideration for my hand in marriage.” She admitted, finally bringing her gaze to reach her husband’s, immediately noticing the dread that shrouded him.

Despite the fact that they were married and had been for months, the mere prospect of her being forced into marriage with a man so barbaric left him feeling sick. 

She let out a shaking breath, pulling her hand from his as she wiped her tears furiously, forcing her expression into a mask of indifference, refusing to show him her weakness. 

“I’m sure that changes nothing for you, but I figured you should know.” She spoke hoarsely. “My night with Ser Darick meant nothing. I had no idea you were my betrothed. I thought I’d have one more night for myself before I was forced to be a silent, battered wife who would wind up dead in a matter of months.”

Aemond exhaled shakily, his gaze watching her curiously. Her sadness cut him deeply and while he could never understand the fear she felt, the fear almost every woman in the realm faced at the prospect of marriage, he couldn’t help but ache for her, for what she feared. 

The thought of her so scared, resigning herself to be abused, forced into a marriage with a man that would treat her horribly, had his hands clenching into fists, forcing back the desire to draw blood from men that weren’t even present.

“I’m sorry.” She choked out, her teary eyes finally meeting his, causing the lump in his throat to swell.

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“No, I do. I betrayed you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I acted as nothing more than a lowly street whore.” 

Aemond clenched his jaw, a flash of pain striking him deeply. His previous words he had thrown at her in anger caught up to him, hurting him as if they had been directed at himself. The guilt that overcame him was overpowering, enough to knock him off kilter, enough to haunt him for the rest of his life.

“I didn’t mean it.” He told her, his voice weak, portraying his pain.

“You said it.” 

His chest ached yet again at the sadness in her voice, her teary eyed gaze hurting him like a sword to the heart. 

“I was angry and I didn’t mean a word of what I said. I let my jealousy rule me.” He explained to her, reaching out to take her hand in his again. “But you mean more to me than my anger, you mean more to me than a single mistake.”

Her eyes narrowed, derision crossing her features, as if she didn’t believe him, as if his forgiveness was too good to be true. As she shook her head, he felt his heart crack yet again. 

“You’ve forced yourself to feel nothing but derision for me for years, I’m sure you can do it again.” She spoke tersely, her eyes betraying her hurt as they brimmed with tears. “I’ll tell my mother we wish for an annulment.”

“Stop.” He demanded angrily, looking at her with barely contained hurt.

“I’m sure your mother will be thrilled.”

“Love, please-”

“You can be married to a pure maiden within the next moon.”

“Stop!” He yelled, finally cutting off her frantic rambles. She looked at him with wide, tearful eyes, the sight causing his chest to hurt in ways he couldn’t even fathom. 

He breathed heavily for a moment, allowing his anger to fade. 

“I won’t let you end this. I care about you too much to let you go.” 

Her heart jumped at his words, her emotions beginning to stir once again. She let out a trembling breath, a glaringly bitter thought in her head she couldn’t move past from.

“Please, do not hate me for asking…” She started quietly, swallowing thickly as she looked to him hesitantly “Do you forgive me because you wish for power? Because you will one day be consort, because your heir will sit the throne?”

Aemond tensed, his gaze full of bewilderment. He had to admit, maybe in the beginning, the prospect of being consort enticed him, but now, it wasn’t even a thought in his head.

It hadn’t been since the moment she stepped out of that carriage and their eyes met for the first time in years. 

“I forgive you because I love you.” Aemond answered, as if it was the most simple explanation he could have given. 

Her breath caught in her throat, completely taken aback by his admission, one he gave freely, the genuine look in his eye making her crumble within. 

“You love me?” She choked out and he smiled sadly, the sight of her reluctance to believe it causing the ache in his chest to throb once more. He moved to sit closer to her, taking her hand in his.

“I have loved you for a long time. Much longer than I would like to admit.” He spoke with a soft laugh. “The things you did for me in our childhood…” He paused, taking in a deep breath. “Sometimes it felt like you were the only one who cared.”

She frowned, her hand holding his tightly, her heart aching to hear him so vulnerable.

“I could never turn my back on you. I could never let you walk away from our marriage, not for anything.” 

He was more than surprised when her lips descended on his with a fierce kiss, one that was filled with hunger, longing, and relief. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, responding to her kiss with equal fervor, moaning against her as her hands winded through his hair, the gesture so intimate, so familiar to their last months together. 

They pulled away, breathing heavily. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She whispered, sounding pained, as if she would have to repent for his forgiveness for the rest of her life. 

He shook his head and held her tighter. He leaned his forehead against hers, swallowing thickly against the small ounce of doubt that creeped within him.

“He truly means nothing to you?”

She seemed pained by his question, her expression twisting as she placed her hand against his cheek as she looked at him with reverence. 

“He is nothing to me. I have not had a single thought of him since I’ve loved you.” 

He perked up, his wide eye searching hers, as if looking for any sign of dishonesty. But he found none. 

He wouldn’t, for she loved him just as he loved her. 

He crashed his lips to hers, his hands holding her tightly as he pulled her onto his lap, eager to place his touch upon her and equally as eager for her greedy hands to bestow their pleasure upon him. 

He preened under her gentle caresses, her hardened tugs at his hair, her eager hips that grinded against his. He longed for everything she was willing to give him. 

He could feel the jealousy that had blinded him, that green-eyed monster that threatened to ruin it all, fade to nothing while he was in her arms. 

He would not let a single mistake tear apart what they had, what had been growing since their childhood. 

He loved her and she loved him. 

It was all he needed.

~~

They mended back together with ease. With Ser Darick transferred, no longer a glaring reminder of her indiscretion, they were able to put the incident past them. 

Her brothers questioned what had happened, why there seemed to be a rift in her marriage then, as quickly as it had come, disappeared as she and her husband soon proved themselves as a united front, more infatuated with each other than ever. 

She didn’t give them any answers. She only assured them she was happy, that Aemond treated her well and that their marriage was a success. 

They were back to the blissful, wonderstruck and obsessed couple they had been before her secret had been revealed. 

Until the dinner for the King’s nameday. 

Her arm was locked with her husband’s as they stepped into the dining hall, their smiles mirroring each other as they spoke quietly. 

Aemond suddenly stopped in his tracks, his body becoming stiff as stone. She looked up at him, her smile falling at the sight of the murderous rage in his eye. 

She followed his gaze and paled instantly, her stomach twisting with fear as she found Ser Darick’s smirking face staring back at her. She swallowed against the lump that grew in her throat and held tighter to Aemond’s arm. 

“Let’s sit.” She spoke quietly, having to basically drag him along with her to take their seats at the table. 

Aemond’s glare remained on the man as he took his seat, his eye cold and unflinching. His wife had told him about that day the guard confronted her, explaining his strange possessiveness, the harsh way he held her. 

He wanted to kill the guard the second he saw the bruises on her arms, but she held onto him tightly, begging him not to leave her alone, begging him to drop the matter completely. 

She so desperately wanted to forget the entire thing and she knew if Aemond killed him, it would invite questions she dreaded to answer. 

The fury he felt at the sight of her bruises, at how scared she had been because of that guard, hadn’t left him. He had kissed every mark on her body, though it did little to soothe the storm inside of him, the desire to draw blood from the man that dared to hurt her. 

His fingers tapped erratically atop the table, his deadly scowl never wavering from the man who smugly smirked back at him, inciting his rage. 

Her hand covered his, startling him out of his haze of anger. He looked over at her and she gave him a weak smile, her eyes pleading with him to not act on his anger. There was a look of regret in her gaze, as her guilt returned tenfold, as if she were the one angering him. 

The sight tore his anger away in an instant and he intertwined their fingers, squeezing her hand comfortingly, silently assuring her, promising her he wasn’t upset with her, that her guilt was for naught. 

“I love you.” She mouthed to him, wanting to remind him in the face of her dreaded mistake and he smiled, mouthing the words back to her. 

The days they had spent together over the past weeks were enough to heal him of the fierce jealousy that had wracked him at the news of her night with her guard. She had spent night after night worshiping him, bestowing pleasure upon him that left his mind spinning, proving to him over and over again that he was the only one she wanted, he was the only one she had eyes for, and he was the only one she would pleasure so intently. 

Their thoughts of that damned guard were gone swiftly as the King was carried into the room, the sight of his decaying and weak body stealing their attention completely. 

King Viserys smiled, a sad yet relieved looking gesture as he looked at the table full of his family, smiling faces around him, easy conversation flowing, no sight of derision or hatred he had seen just months ago that had broken his heart. 

He raised his cup of wine with a shaking hand. 

“A toast to my family.” He began with a hoarse voice. “To my daughter, Rhaenyra, who will make a fine Queen. And to my dear grandchild.”

She perked up at the sound of her name, seemingly growing bashful under the King’s eye. 

“My beautiful darling and my dear son. May your union be fruitful and prosper with a love the realm has not yet seen.” Viserys toasted them with a warm smile. “My dear you will make a wonderful Queen after your mother. You will be a fair, peaceful ruler and a wonderful mother when the time comes.”

A bitter scoff echoed through the room, causing everyone to tense, their gazes searching over the faces of those present to find the culprit. 

Her throat went dry, embarrassment washing over her as she noticed Ser Darick rolling his eyes. Beside her, Aemond stiffened, the murderous glare glinting in his eye once again. He gripped the arms of the chair he sat on, mere seconds away from getting to his feet to beat the guard into oblivion. 

“Is there a problem, Ser?” The King questioned, looking at the guard incredulously. 

Ser Darick didn’t even seem intimidated to have the attention of the most powerful man in Westeros. He seemed to preen under all their gazes, straightening his shoulders as if he were of importance. 

“Apologies for my interruption, Your Grace.” The guard began, his sickly sweet smile never wavering as his eyes landed back on the culprit of his anger, the shaken girl who seemed to shrink under his harsh gaze. 

Aemond clenched his jaw, his hand twitching, desperate to reach for the dagger at his hip.

“You are kind to dole out praises to a whore.” 

Chaos erupted in a matter of seconds. Viserys’ face darkened and he struggled to get to his feet, his voice hoarse as he called for his guards to seize Ser Darick. 

Daemon sprung to his feet, kicking his chair out of the way, his expression dark and full of hatred as he approached the dead man walking, swiftly pulling the sword from his hip. 

But it was Aemond that acted quickest. 

He ignored his wife’s warning as he got to his feet with agile precision, his steps heavy as he marched his way toward the guard. He pulled the dagger from his belt, his teeth grit as he stared the man down with nothing but pure hatred. 

With a swift kick to Ser Darick's hand, Aemond disarmed him before he could pull his sword. Aemond gripped the front of his armor, dragging him forward harshly and swiftly plunged his dagger into the man’s neck without hesitation. 

Gasps and screams sounded behind him at the violent display, but he paid no mind to it. 

He watched with satisfaction as the man’s eyes went dull, the life leaving him slowly as he bled out, finally erasing the smug smile from his face. 

He eased his grip, letting him drop to the floor. 

He turned, coming face to face with Daemon, who had his sword drawn and at the ready. His uncle eyed the dead guard at their feet, with slight disdain for the mere fact that he hadn’t been the one to end his life, before slowly raising his gaze to him, staring at him for a long moment before nodding, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. 

Aemond nodded back, a dark and twisted respect blooming between them in that moment. 

He turned, ignoring the chaos that continued as his family watched on in horror and confusion, a mix of questions, admonishments him for his brashness, praises for his actions, but he heard none of it.

He stepped towards his trembling wife and quickly guided her into his arms, holding her tightly. 

Her eyes were wide, shocked by the violent display, though she couldn’t deny the immediate relief that coursed through her. 

“Thank you.” She whispered shakily.

Aemond pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his arms tightening around her, his silent promise to always protect her. 

~~

Hope you enjoy and sorry it's so long, I can't stop myself xx

[shaisuki]

❝ I TAKE IT BACK, IT'S THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT.ᐟ ❞

FEATURING. ISAGI YOICHI, BACHIRA MEGURU, NAGI SEISHIRO, NIKO IKKI

NOTES. based on a requests from my previous blog. yandere blue lock boys reacting to their chubby s/o being happy despite being rejected by them and shit happened

CONTENT WARNINGS. implied noncon + dubcon + dark themes + yandere characters + obsessive themes + possessiveness + multiple orgasms + creampies + mating press + dacryphilia + nipple play + breeding kink + kidnapping.

SYNOPSIS. ahhh. soccer players and their indomitable egos. such a pain they can't even apologize to the love of their life after taking them away. their desired significant others whom they love to spoil so much to cover the wrongdoings. it's all good and forgotten when they make you cum over and over again.

ISAGI YOICHI

“i hate you. did you know that.” you say to him out of the blue while you both laid in the king-sized bed located in the bedroom of his mansion. isagi perks up at your confession. sitting up while his big blue eyes gaze at your plush form. the dark silk night gown in the color of his eyes sensually covers your body. showing the bits of your body. the gown riding up exposing your creamy and big thighs. pressed together while you place your foot in his chest.

“i didn't know that, princess. care to tell me why?” you almost roll your eyes at his faux tone. sweet is yoichi to the eyes of mama and papa isagi but he's far from that to you. long are the days gone where sweet and adorable yo-chan is the apple of the eyes. calculating and can be a real jerk sometimes but treats you like the goddess you are. spoiled and pampered you are to the athlete. “you took me away from family and friends after you rejected me.” the striker raises a brow at you. a smile gracing in his lips at the memory.

it was a victory party after winning another match and the team decided to celebrate in a bar. there he spots a familiar face and body. dancing through the neon lights and the loud music. your plump body gracefully moving in the rhythm oblivious to the pair of blue eyes staring right at you. his eyes burning with rage and jealousy seeing you grinding with a guy that approached you. why wouldn't he? you were freshly rejected by him at your confession and now you're flirting, well grinding with a stranger you didn't know.

how fast can you move on and isagi started to regret it. he should have been the one to confess to you and maybe you can reject him but he won't allow it so he did what he can. took you away from that crowd. he was taught to get what he desired and you were the one who took his heart the same day and the very night he have seen you dancing with a stranger so he did what he thinks is right.

“isagi?” his name smoothly rolls from your tongue and isagi bites back a smile. it looks like you still didn't forget him. “oh hey. pretty fast you can move on after being rejected.” he commented and you scoffed at him. his gaze locked to your glossy lips and meeting your eyes filled with annoyance. “yep. can't stay sad after that. too many fish in the sea to stay on one.” you quipped at him and it ticked isagi to hear you say that.

“oh really?” a wolfish grin is painted on his face after hearing you say that. grabbing your wrist after almost leaving him making you yelp at the tight grip he holds you. “really.” you replied to him with much heat and his eyes seem to like glow despite the dizzying neon lights. pulling your wrist from his grip. isagi shakes his head at you. “you don't get to accept my rejection that fast, princess.” isagi challenges at you and you won't back out just because he's now mr. hotshot who rejected you. “make me.” and that was the last words you utter after him taking you outside and that was also the last time you've seen your friends. he took that as a challenge.

now, three years later. you're married to isagi yoichi, a pro-athlete with money overflowing flowing from his club. living with you in a multimillion dollar mansion he have brought to keep you secured and away from the predatory gaze of other men who wants the wife of isagi yoichi. mrs. isagi is untouchable and is believe to be the most spoiled wife out of wives of a pro-athlete at all time. that's what the media dubbed you as.

“aww—shit.” isagi groans as his pelvis slams to the back of your thighs. his cock being buried deeper inside your hole weeping with juices while his palms pressed in the sides of your waist. “i remember. can't help it, princess. it's either i'm going to make you mine or murder that motherfucker.” you badly want to tell isagi's parents how rough their son is to you. you can only squeal while being impaled by his huge cock.

“yoichi—ahhh” your toes curl. back arching as isagi continues to piston his length deep inside you. rapidly moving his hips. shaping your hole with the girth of his cock. “i know you hated me but it's better than to see in the arms of a another man that is me. that's why i always spoil you.”

“i-i don't need your money, yoichi.” you moaned out. your legs folded and almost touching your chest. your stomach are also in the same fate. your belly rolls stacked together. jiggling at the harsh impact of your husband's thrusts to your pussy that continued to gush with juices. squelching at the combined friction of isagi's cock repeatedly assaulting your abused pussy.

a whine ripped from your throat as your orgasm hits you. sending shock after shock of waves rippling throughout your body. isagi leans down to kiss the skin between the valley of your breasts before taking a nipple in his mouth. latching like a baby while his eyes never leaves your face morphing into a form of pleasure he's seen many times.

groaning he fills you up with his cum deep inside you. “too bad, princess. you're married to me. maybe, i'll breed this fat pussy of yours. get you pregnant. big and swollen for me.”

“you want that? of course, you'll want that. body perfect to give me babies.” isagi chuckles. you can't even make a coherent sentence from the way you babbled. drunk on his cock and he'll really do it. get you pregnant so you won't think about those things and you'll only think to care for his baby.

“you're squeezing me—hah, shit!” isagi curses out loud. dumping his load again to you and by the time he was done. he admires the piece of work he have made. his chubby wife, spread wide on his bed, cum leaking between your legs and you're filled to the brim.

BACHIRA MEGURU

bachira have this appetite that can't be quelled and he's more like a predator setting his eyes on a unsuspecting prey and then he's ready to sink his fangs through the flesh of his victim.

he was simply satiated when he first met you. no hunger in those honey-golden eyes of his nor the playful glint. it would be the last you're meeting him. bachira would have applauded you for your guts to confess to him out of all the players when girls and women alike avoided him. simply for being eccentric. he didn't mind it and when he's presented like this, you and your pretty eyes shimmering with anticipation for his answer, he wants to accept but that would be boring so a rejection followed through. he kind of feel of bad. sort of.

there wasn't an admiration nor desire he feels for you and besides you will move on and that's when he regrets it.

it was like you were reborn overnight. you confessed to him dressed like a church girl with lace and ribbons in a summer dress and here you are, a wild thing. dancing in the middle of a dance floor. in a tight top that spills the chub of your stomach, tits jiggling through the fabric, hair loose. your skirt too short that with the length you will be flashing everyone with your ass to see. you didn't even see him staring right at you. he should have gone for the kill, instead he was standing in the corner. a grin in his face and the glint in his eyes. something dangerous. something playful. he didn't pounced on you right away. where will be the thrill of it if he can't play.

"fuck-ahh" you moaned out your hand gripping the brown and yellow strands of his haiar. his face into one of a glee. licking his lips frrom the harsh thrusts of his hips to your plump ass. colliding with such impact as the same as his cock pound your hole.

you hold the sink like it was your lifeline. gripping it tightly to avoid yourself from falling in the club bathroom's floor while bachira scrambled your insides.

"f-fuck you—bachira." god. you were having difficulty from how you spoke with him fucking you so good. "i'm already doing it—fuck. you feel so good. you're milking me dry." he pantsou. holding the plumpness of your stomach that his nails dig and will leave bruises.

it's embarrassing how the sounds coming from your mouth are spilling continously. the sounds you didn't know you were capable of. it also didn't help that he's fucking you in the women's bathroom just because it was unoccupied in the moment and the fucker didn't even lock it. knowing that any given moment there will someone who'll walk in and see you both fucking like animals in heat. he's a freak. his tastes including fucking you publicly. you doubt that someone will dare to enter inside considering you were loudly moaning how good he feels inside you.

bachira meguru is a exhibitionist. you can see from the way he grins. having his reflection in the mirror and the way his eyes glint behind you.

"god, bachira. do you even like me?" you asked him. toes clenching. catching your breath cause every time he buries his dick deeper to you, the air in your lungs gets knocked out. the onslaught relentless.

"i won't be fucking you if i don't." he rasps out, his hands moving to squeeze the flesh of your round stomach to feel it move while his other hand is holding a tit to fondle. pinching your nipple that your back arches more from the stimulation. you only realized that he's deeply pressed against to you when you feel his lean body. his hot breath tickling your ears.

"sshh. don't speak." he said and that's what you did even you can still resist him and when you tumbled to your pleasure. bachira following through. you were utterly helpless and that's the time bachira came to terms with his newfound feelings.

NAGI SEISHIRO

"i'm not interested."

you already anticipated that answer amd you were prepared for it. you have been warned about it. nagi seishiro won't commit and put himself in a strenous relationship. a confession to nagi won't ened well. he's lazy. he can't even spare a glance to you even if you were a video game but you're not. nodding, you left shortly. accepting the face that nagi won't look at you the way you wanted him to be.

"cheers!" your girlfriends shouted despite the loud booming music of the club. the glass clinking to each other drowning in the sound of the other patrons who are also doing the same. you were glad for your girlfriends to drag you out after your confession instead of letting you rot in your place. "there's no need to be sad about that, girl. many fish to pick." extending her arm, hand holding a drink to show you the sea of bodies moving in the middle of the dancefloor. encouraging you to let go and forget about what happened. taking a gulp from your drink. it gave you the courage to be bold. the rejection might be good to you. realizing that if nagi accepted you, you will be stuck in a loveless and effortless relationship to a man who finds everthing a drag. nagi can't even lift a finger to take care of himself how would it be different to you. that was a bullet you dodged there.

and that was a joke. you took that back and you find yourself again to him. trapped in the gray-colored eyes of his. large irises are bigger from they way he usually looks at you. you believed it was even a enthusiasm in those eyes of his right now looking at you.

"nagi?" you call to him mere seconds after accidentally bumping to him. you didn't expect that he would be a club out of all places and you see his teammates behind him. he was probably got dragged out the same way as your girlfriends did to you. you paid him no mind and began to make way back at your girlfriends. before you could turn around you were stopped by a large hand holding your round shoulder. his hand cold against the warmth of the exposed skin of your shoulder.

you shot a look at him. holding his wrist to remove his hand from your shoulder. that when you're abou tto reach the success of unlatching his hold to you. he placed his other hand. placing them firmly to your shoulder and that's when you lost it.

"n-nagi! l—" you weren't given the chance to continue to speak when a pair of lips connected to your own. everything around you to spin and you blame the alcohol for it. you shaked your head to clear your thoughts and put them in order. you were stunned. confused for a bit before turning into one of an anger. "let go of me, nagi!" you fumed. punching his chest with closed fists which had put no damage on him and again but his quick reflexes catch the incoming punch you were about to throw again. he holds your wrist before planting a another kiss on you. "mmmph!" is the sound you made after that and you were speechless. intoxicated with nagi's kisses to your lips.

the color of your irises meets gray-ones when you opened them. nagi have taken you home with him and your back hits the softness of the mattress of his bed. if he wasn't too impatient and annoyed with your clothes obstructing your body from him, it should still be on one piece but the desperation and need left you naked and bare for him. nagi was also in a rush. clumsily removing his shirt. showing the muscles he gained from being a pro-soccer player. nagi almost dwarfs you and wasted no time sinking his cock to your hole.

a pained gasp coming from you upon his large cock entered you. nagi didn't even bother to stretch you and only rubbed your slit to get it wet and then without a second thought plunging his cock deep inside you. the pain only lasted for a second before the pleasure took over.

"so soft." nagi huffs. burying his face between your breasts. nuzzling at the skin and placing sloppy kisses on them. letting out a hum of satisfaction and growls while his hips move in a manner that left you to see white and becoming a moaning mess underneath him. you can't move. the reason being crushed by nagi's weight confident that you can take him with your plump stature and that you can only wrapped your chunky legs behind him. just above his buttocks.

it was too much of a hassle.

you weren't even worth of the effort and when he sees you dancing without a care, he got drawn. it was like a unknown force pulling him to get close to you. the desire to be near you. when he forced you to be with him. all he can see is the roundness of your face. brows furrowing in annoyance and your lips in a pout. moving and saying something about him not wanting you and toying with your feelings. that's the reason he can't date anyone. they would be too much for him and he would be too nonchalant to care about it. any kinds of intimacy is he can't give to someone but to you he can try. and that way is to fuck senselessly that you won't bother to find someone who is not him. nagi would simply make you his. something he owned. something he would treasure and keep.

he simly can't get of your softness. he feels you over and over with his hands. caressing and squeezing every flesh he can touch.

that when he's already pumped you full of his cum. he finds it surprsing that he can still go on and that's when nagi starts to slowly put efforts in things if he wanted to keep you and it was worth it. he can even take you from the people you used to love and your eyes will only be for him.

NIKO IKKI

he got twisted so much with the media that he doesn't even see the real beauty of yours after he rejected you. consumed by the beauty standards and imagines himself with someone who's the same as the characters in his anime. the same slender, busty girls that would come up to him and comfort him that he's the best unlike you the very opposite of them.

niko regretted it until the very end why he rejected and seeing you so happy without him. that's why he reasoned and made efforts to win you back and you were stubborn as you were pretty and you left him no choice but to take you.

you find him crying at top of you. apologizing that he have to do this and niko's pretty teal eyes are glossed with tears. you didn't know that his eyes were the prettiest shade of teal until he reveals it to you and from your position you can see his eyes not covered by his hair. it's the first time you have seen and it was so fucked up to wake up at his bed.

you know what to do at situations like this. struggling will trigger him to keep you locked up and coddling him will just keep you attached to him but was that the point of your confession to him? you wanted niko and the rejection doesn't take good in your tongue. it's a embarrassment and he's on yours again. wanting you. you still have some pride left on yourself to throw back yourself at niko who have thrown you away.

he look so pathetic above you. crying his eyes out. tears dripping and plopping down in your skin. “oh, niko.” you reached out to him. pulling him to yours and letting him cry out to your body. you cooed and hums at him softly. threading your fingers over the strands of his ink-colored fluffy hair. “i'm sorry.” you hear mutter to your skin. “it's okay.” your voice soft and you were surprised at the tenderness of your voice at him when you're supposedly to be angry at him. grabbing his cheek that is pressed to your stomach and making him look at you.

“it's fine. 's fine, niko.” you repeatedly say to him and niko melts at your voice. soothing his broken heart when he rejected you and you're being this good at him.

leaning down to meet his face, you pressed a small kiss to his lips. a little longer than you would have liked before pulling and watch niko's surprised face and then he grabs your face for him to kiss and then again and again until you two were both moaning from each other's feeling of lips.

“niko, you're being t-too rough.” you stutter. holding his shoulders to steady yourself while you bounced on his dick. eyes fluttering from the sensation of his cock repeatedly rubbing against your velvety walls making you clench around him.

the man below doesn't say anything. only a grunt all is he can muster. taking control over your body. holding your plump waist while he thrusts his cock upwards. assaulting your fat cunt with such desperation. afraid that you'll disappear on him. your back arches, making you throw your head back when his cock nudged a special spot deep inside you. noticing the change, niko continued to hit that and turned you into one of a uncontrollable moaning mess. your body taking autopilot in bouncing on his cock.

he takes a nipple to his mouth. your breasts bouncing in front of him and moaned at the taste of tit in his mouth. sucking on it and rolling his tongue around it. almost biting it.

“niko! fuck! i'm going to cum!” you cried out. it was too good. too good that you can't take it anymore. niko sped up his thrusts cause he's close too and it's being painfully good not to bust inside you cause he's been dreaming of it. he made sure that his cock is buried deep inside you before releasing his load. spilling his cum deep inside you. warming your insides with the thick goodness he have that triggers you also to cum. releasing the clear liquid, spraying it on niko's lap which he didn't mind.

“you're going to be with me?” he asks. niko's stare intensifying at you. “yeah.” you say before crashing your lips into his.