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sonotpattismith · 26 days ago

Text

but daddy I love him her!

pairing: billionaire's son!gojo x farmer's daughter!reader word count: 10.7k content: angst, fluff, romeo and juliet retelling, hurt w/ comfort, implications of abuse, smut, 18+

gojo fan-art by @3-aem

The grating sound of fake laughter would be ingrained in your mind for the remainder of the week, you were sure of it. In the midst of your zoned out staring and eavesdropping (though even that was becoming mind-numbing at this point), the tray of hordeurves balanced in your hands began to tip ever so slightly. It only caught your attention when one of the caviar topped… whatever it was started sliding to the right. With a strangled gasp, you quickly righted your posture, your spine now stiff as a board.

You cast your gaze across the banquet hall of high profile, and thus high nose individuals, their glittering jewelery and lavish gowns nearly blinding you, and you assured that no one had seen your slip up. With a quiet sigh of relief, you mustered a polite smile for the goach woman before you, slipping off her glove to grab an appetizer from your tray.

God, you needed this job, but for the love of all that is holy, you didn’t expect it to be this agonizing. In truth, it could have been worse. You could have found a temp job that really had you breaking your back as you were used to, so perhaps putting up with some horribly privileged elites for the few hours of their… gala or fundraising event or whatever excuse they used to justify such lavish get-togethers, wasn’t as bad as you were making it out to be.

You didn’t get details of the event you’d be servicing until just an hour prior to its beginning when you were given a run down about the nature of the event as well as the importance of the clientele. Of course, you had already heard of the Gojo family long before your temporary manager explained them to you with sweat dripping anxiously down his forehead. They were the business tycoons of Tokyo, owning half the real estate that you’d likely ever stepped foot in in this city.

There was a slight unease in your stomach at the thought of being entrusted to work at an event so… high profile, but your subtle irritation for the gall of it all trumped that anxiety tenfold. Not only had you had a good understanding of who the family was due to good ole’ word of mouth, but it also didn’t help that they had been singlehandedly making your father’s life a living hell for the past few years.

Sure, they weren’t intentionally targeting the man, but as their franchises and real estate continued blossoming throughout the city, there were growing pressures for your father to sell his farmland with the intention of their company building more fucking skyscrapers filled with law firms or IV transfusion spas or whatever the hell it was that these rich people filled their pockets with. He had stayed resolute in his intention to keep the farm, but you knew the rising property taxes that came along with that Gojo family price tag popping up all around him was making it difficult for him to keep it afloat.

Which is precisely why you were currently pretending not to be creeped out by the middle-aged man leering at you from your peripheral— you really needed this money.

Clearing your throat, a wobbly smile graced your lips as you held out the tray to him in hopes that it was the caviar he was eyeing and not your… hordeurves. Perhaps that was the wrong move to make though, because he was taking one and staying with a look on his face that said he had an offer that you just wouldn’t be able to refuse.

“You do private events, sweetheart?”

You had half a mind to tell him that this was a private event, but the Rolex on his wrist told you that he had too much money to piss off.

“I-I’m contracted by the catering company, sir.” You explained with your eyes facing forward, gulping down the heartbeat that had manifested in your throat at the way he chuckled patronizingly and leaned against the wall you were standing by. “I work the events that they send me to.”

“Alright then, better question,” He grinned connivingly as he absentmindedly straightened the gold cufflinks at his wrists. “Can I contract you for a private event?”

Any hope of rebuttal got stuck in your throat, caught between your burning desire to defend yourself and the even greater need for this job to go well.

“I’m pretty sure your three ex-wives would agree that contracts aren’t really your strong suit, wouldn’t you say, Junto?”

Disguising your near instantaneous chortle as a cough, you quickly turned your head away from Junto and your knight in… Prada? Lord knows you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. The sleezeball scoffed, but it seemed he too felt the waves of dominating energy coming from the younger man that dared challenge him, because that scoff quickly turned into a strictly rehearsed laugh.

“You always did have a mouth on you, didn’t you, kid?” He gritted through his fake smile as he patted said kid on the back, who only offered a mocking aw, shucks in return. “You stay outta trouble, huh?”

The man promptly removed himself from the situation lest he be torn apart anymore by someone who appeared less than half his age. Biting at your bottom lip, you weren’t sure if it would be appropriate to acknowledge what you had just witnessed, so you opted to face forward, trying to ignore the scent of the woodsy cologne that just wafted an air far too expensive for you to even be breathing in. Despite your careful composure, you could feel his eyes on the side of your head.

“What a fuckin’ weirdo, amaright?” He broke the silence for you, a smug smile stretching across his lips when you failed to contain your laughter that time around.

“Oh my god, I thought he would catch fire standing so close to the candles with so much gel in his hair.” You whisper-shouted, absolutely reeling to get it off your chest after standing in silence for so long.

Your savior chortled next to you, hunching over himself ever-so-slightly as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his perfectly-tailored suit. Finally daring to look his way, you were almost knocked off your balance for the second time that night as you took in his striking, white hair and icy-blue eyes that seemed to twinkle supernaturally under the candlelight’s flicker. He looked to be your age, and you figured he was the son of one of these bigshots that was dragged here for the sake of networking.

“Maybe we should get him back over here then. We need something to liven this place up— a grease fire would do nicely.” He teased while straightening his posture once again to look out amongst the sea of people as you giggled along beside him.

“Thank you, by the way.” You expressed sincerely once your laughter had died down. “It was kind of an awkward position he was putting me in.”

The man only hummed, observing you with a mischievous glint in his other-worldly eyes that had you thinking the creep was onto something when he told him to stay out of trouble.

“Wanna know how you can thank me?” You felt a premature flush falling over your cheeks as he leaned down to be within your earshot. “Sneak me a piece of the cake that’s in the back, yeah?”

At once, the tension in your shoulders dissipated, and you smiled apologetically at him.

“I can’t cut the cake until the hosts give their speech.”

“Ah, see, therein lies my problem because that is assuming I would be staying for the entirety of this snoozefest.” He was promptly taking the tray from your arms and blindly handing it off to another unsuspecting worker who was passing by. “C’mon, I just want a little something sweet before I dip out of here. Please?”

Maybe it was the fact that you felt partially indebted to him, or maybe it was that irresistible pout he was directing your way, or, most likely, the fact that he was obscenely attractive. Whichever it was had you slipping into the kitchen where the lavish cake was waiting atop the counter, peeking around to assure the coast was clear before you grabbed a knife. With an unbelieving shake of your head, you turned it around so as to cut from the back and not make it so obvious.

Your heart was thumping wildly against your white-button down-clad chest as you promptly maneuvered it back to its proper positioning, grabbing a spoon before you made a beeline toward the hallway where he said he’d be waiting. Sure enough, there he was, just barely illuminated by the candle-lit lanterns hanging in the grand hallway as he leaned against the wall.

“Hah! You’re a total badass!” He cackled shortly as he pushed himself off the wall. Surveying the plate in your hand, his brows furrowed suddenly. “Just one?”

You shifted nervously on your feet, the corners of your lips twitching in uncertainty.

“You… wanted two?”

“No, where’s yours?” The question fell from his perfectly pink lips as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. With the reemergence of that incriminating pout, he presented the hand that had since been hiding behind his back. In it, was a bottle of champagne that looked like it cost more than what you were even getting paid for this stupid event. “Brought us some bubbly and everything— you know what, it’s fine. I can share just this once.”

At once, he was leading you by your free arm down the dim hallway until he reached an alcove that would be perfectly disguised to anyone looking straight down the hall.

“Wait, wait, I can’t be here—”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” You scoffed in bitter amusement at his oblivion as he sat crisscrossed against the wall. “Because I could lose my job, that’s why not.”

“Oh, please,” He waved you off as he nodded toward the spot beside him. Slowly, you begrudgingly took a seat next to him. “You’re not gonna lose your job.”

With a resignated sigh, you set the plate down on the floor before him.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Oh the—” He flinched back as he popped the top off the champagne, the abrupt rupture making you squeal. “—surest. What are you doing working this dick-measuring competition anyway?”

You tried not to get distracted by the way his lips settled eagerly around the cake-filled spoon, the smallest of moans leaving him in the process before he passed the plate to you.

“Need a new laptop for school.” You explained, though you knew it was only a fraction of the story, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t understand your financial struggles as he allowed drops of champagne to spill onto his freshly-pressed suit pants. Despite your better judgement, you took a bite from the cake as well. “Too many open coffee cups next to electronics got me too confident. So, I’m stuck as the Gojo family mule for the night.”

He huffed out a laugh through a mouthful of champagne. You two soon swapped, him taking the cake and you grabbing at the neck of the bottle. Leaning your head back against the wall, you tilted your head to look at him.

“You know, I heard this whole thing was actually a networking thing for their son.” You rambled, the slightest hint of alcohol clearly making you way too comfortable with this stranger. He only hummed beside you, the faintest of amused smiles on his handsome face. “Heard he’s a real disaster, too.”

“I heard he showed up an hour late.”

“Of course he did.” You snorted softly with a shake of your head. “If I had half the opportunities that dude had—”

“What would you do?”

You fell silent for a moment, smushing some icing around the delicate, china plate. In your peripheral, you saw the small, shiny triangle shaped logo at the base of his black tie, and it once again reminded you that even this man, as relatable as he might appear to you hiding from the party to stuff his face with cake and champagne, wouldn’t understand the petty issues of the working class.

“I wouldn’t be passing out caviar to a bunch of billionaires— that’s for sure.”

“Satoru!”

At once, the man was snatching the plate from your hand, juggling it along with the champagne bottle between his long fingers.

“That’d be my queue.” He quipped, glancing down at your name tag before testing how it sounded on his lips. You blinked owlishly at him, because you could have sworn that Satoru was the name of— “Sorry, you know me— real disaster.” He winked before swiping at the leftover icing at the edge of your parted lips and licking it from his thumb. “Try not to get propositioned while I’m gone!”

You watched with unreserved horror as he stumbled to his feet to race up the hall before anyone could come down to find you. In the quiet solitude of the secluded hallway, you could still just barely hear the host of the event introducing his son with some heartfelt speech about how proud he was of him that was most definitely written by someone else. A churning sense of mortification settled in your stomach as you looked up at the portrait on the wall behind you of the Gojos.

The Gojos and their son.

The Gojos and their white-haired, blue-eyed son.

Oh, you were so losing your job.

It seemed as though you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs no matter how hard you tried as you stood with the rest of the contracted wait staff for a final rundown of how service went overall that night.

Following Satoru’s abrupt departure, you begged a coworker to switch roles with you for the night— a change she was more than happy to oblige given she was on dishwashing duty, but you were just eager to be avoiding any possibile run-ins with the man you had just shit-talked right to his face. It was the only reason you made it through the night without vomiting, you were sure. Why had you opened your stupid mouth?

A call of your name pulled you from your self-depricating thoughts, and you lifted your head to meet the gaze of your manager. Through the blood rushing in your ears, his words sounded muffled to you as he handed you an envelope. Blinking a few times, you shook your head and called out to him just as he had moved onto the next worker.

“Sorry— what did you say this was for?”

“Long night, huh?” He chuckled at your supposed sluggishness. “One of the guests wanted to give you an additional tip. Guess you left an impression.”

You gulped, looking down at the envelope with the slightest of trembles in your fingers. It burned a hole in your pocket the entire drive home, and you were more so than usual frustrated at your run-down truck’s pathetic engine. It wasn’t until you had showered, cooled your nervous system even in the slightest, and gotten into your bed that you worked up the courage to open it. Flinching back as if it might explode in your face, you slowly tore it open.

“Holy shit.” You breathed out, clutching the envelope closer to you to inspect the stack of bills glaring back at you. Frantically thumbing through them— your head started to spin after you hit five-hundred. “He’s insane. Oh my god, he’s insane.”

Pulling out the wad of money, a small napkin you recognized as one you were offering the guests with the horderves fell onto your mattress. You snatched it up, frenzied eyes quickly skimming the sloppy penmanship.

Thanks again for the cake, and try to keep your coffee off of your new laptop.

— Satoru ‘Real Disaster’ Gojo

The money, along with the note, sat untouched at the bottom of your bag for nearly a week. It felt so unbelievably wrong to use it, but you weren’t exactly sure what to do with the thousand dollars you’d received in exchange for a slice of cake and an insult. So, it remained there as you pretended to forget its existence, continuing to work your actual job in the meantime as though you didn’t already now have more than enough for a new laptop.

It’s where you found yourself now, mindlessly reading over the notes from your previous class as you sat at the front desk of your campus library. Your days were typically slow like this, especially since it wasn’t anywhere near finals season, which is about the only time of semester you would see this place bustling with students. There were no complaints from you though, as you were able to study and get homework done so you’d be free to help your dad out around the farm when you were home.

The writer’s block you were suffering from was just on the cusp of escaping you as you finally began typing out an opening paragraph for the marketing paper you had been stuck on for nearly an hour. As if the universe was dead set on mocking your academic struggles, a student strolled up to your desk just as your fingers began moving across the keyboard on the library computer. With a barely disguised sigh of frustration, you looked up to offer your services, but your typical greeting died in your throat.

He looked different than when you had last seen him— out of his Prada suit and instead donning a university crewneck as he scrolled purposefully through his phone with furrowed brows of concentration. Satoru Gojo; maybe it wasn’t such a shock that he attended the same university as you, given it was what some would call a ‘prestigious’ university that you were only lucky enough to attend due to the scholarship you grinded your ass off to qualify for each semester.

There was a subtle hitch in your breath as he hummed triumphantly, zooming into something on his phone before leaning over the counter to show you. You hoped that perhaps he would have forgotten all about you, and you redirected your attention to the book he was showing you.

“Do you know if you carry this book? I ordered it for class, but it still hasn’t—”

You felt your stomach practically drop through your ass and onto the floor below you when he abruptly cut himself off. Daring to glance up from his phone, you found those intensely stunning eyes wide and trained on you. A slow smile spread across his lips, and the shock in his eyes morphed into that wicked mischievousness that seemed to come so naturally to him.

“Well that dinosaur certainly doesn’t look like a new laptop to me.” He quipped, clicking his phone shut to lean against the counter on his elbows. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“That’s because I didn’t buy a new laptop.” You explained with burning cheeks, reaching for the bag you had stored under the desk. Fishing around at the bottom of it, you procured the envelope that had been lingering in your possession for a week. You slid it over to him. “Nevermind the fact that I could have gotten three laptops with that kind of money.”

Gojo backed away from the envelope as though it might burn him to touch it, raising his hands defensively.

“So, I figured you could get a nice one. Sue me—”

“I’m not taking your money, Gojo.”

“Ouch— not the family name, princess! You wound me.” He clutched theatrically at his chest before letting his arms fall beside him with an aggravatingly charming smirk. Huffing out an indignant sigh, you moved to search the system for the book he had shown you.

“We’re not friendly enough for the first name basis, and we’re certainly not friendly enough that I’d accept this kind of money from you.” You emphasized with a few pointed clicks of your mouse before turning to face him once again. “That book is in the third row to your left.”

“Yeah?” He hummed, eyes assessing you pensively. The ever present smirk on his lips never faltered. “And what would you have done with it if you didn’t run into me?”

Pursing your lips, you narrowed your eyes at him in challenge, but it was one he was more than prepared to take on as he tilted his head mockingly.

“Who knows, I’m partial to animals— maybe a local shelter would have needed it more than me.”

“How very noble of you.”

“Well, you’re not the only one around here drawn to philanthropy.” Leaning in until he could feel your breath fanning against his nose, you smiled in feigned charm. “Of course, my efforts wouldn’t be contributing to a tax write-off, but giving is giving, right?”

But your biting accusations didn’t deter him, if anything, that fierce tongue of yours only intrigued him more after so long of everyone in his life blindly agreeing with him. You wondered if he could hear the way your heart was racing against your chest, because it was just your luck that the arrogant son of the family fucking your dad’s life over was breathtakingly handsome. He hummed softly, picking up the envelope from the counter to pat it teasingly onto your nose.

“And that’s what you thought I was doing? Charity work?”

“Well you certainly weren’t doing it because I left any sort of stellar impression.” The confidence in your tone faltered as you recalled that night, a flush falling over your cheeks. “I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

With a mockingly wistful sigh, he turned around, leaning back on his elbows against the counter as he tilted his head back to look at you.

“Well, I could hardly blame you. You don’t know me, after all.” His anticipatory tone told you that he was plotting something in that pretty, privileged head of his. “And that’s our problem, isn’t it? You don’t know me, I don’t know you— you said it yourself, princess. Can’t accept this kind of money from a stranger.”

You didn’t respond, not wanting to encourage whatever nonsense he was currently conjuring up. Standing from your desk, you walked around the counter and headed down toward the rows of books. Gojo was hot on your heels though, trailing behind you as he leaned down to use his ‘inside voice’.

“This is the part where you’re supposed to say, ‘Well what do you suggest then, Satoru?’.” His pitched impression of you almost made you smile, but, again, you didn’t want to egg him on. Instead, you headed down your intended row and began skimming the books as he leaned against the shelf. “Well, I’m so glad you asked, because I happen to be in need of a date for my lovely family’s… hah, whaddya’ know— charity gala this weekend.”

“And this concerns me how?”

“What better way to get to know one another than spending a few hours pretending to like each other, huh?”

“You’re delusional, Gojo.” You shook your head with an incredulous smile. Finally spotting the book he had shown you, you pulled it from the shelf and shoved it toward his chest. “Not happening.”

“C’mon, it’s a win-win for both of us. I get a night without my parents on my ass introducing me to every poor girl they sink their claws into, and you can keep the money knowing it was a gift from a friend.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, a bemused smirk taking over your features as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Let me get this straight.” You began with a pop of your hip, leaning back on the shelf across from him. “Satoru Gojo is having to rent a girlfriend for the night. Is that what I’m hearing?”

“Weeell, if you put it that way, that would make you a—” He quickly shut his mouth upon seeing the icy glare you shot his way, daring him to finish that sentence. With a subtle fear hidden behind those striking eyes, he mustered a sweet smile. “—a fool to not take me up on such a kick-ass offer.”

“Nice save.” You muttered with a roll of your eyes, pushing off the wall to get back to work. He stepped forward though, placing his arms on either side of the shelves by your head and effectively trapping you in. That cologne that you remember driving you crazy all those nights ago was once again making your head spin, and you struggled to find the courage to look him in the eyes.

“Live a little— it’ll be fun. Think of it as… as prom!” His eyes widened to emphasize his point.

“I went to prom— could’ve gone without it.” You whispered with a challenging glare.

“That’s cause I wasn’t your date.” He shrugged obviously, and you were beginning to see how it was that Satoru Gojo always seemed to get his way. “I’ll even steal ya’ your own piece of cake this time.”

This had you turning your head to the side to hide your tickled smile, shaking your head as he laughed triumphantly at the sound.

“Atta girl! Now come on and put your number in my phone before I retract my offer.”

“Don’t push it, Gojo.”

“Right— yes, ma’am.”

The two of you didn’t message much in the days leading up to the event. When you did, it was mainly Satoru not-so-subtly checking in to assure that you hadn’t changed your mind. He let you know that he’d pick you up, but a ride was the last thing you were worried about as you surveyed your appearance in the mirror.

Formal events hadn’t ever exactly been your scene, given the more modest living conditions that you had grown up in. You could only pray that you weren’t embarrassing yourself as you smoothed your hands down your old prom dress that you had miraculously managed to squeeze yourself back into. It was the only formal dress you owned, the glittering stone details on the bodice contrasting nicely against the noir, silk fabric. While it looked nice enough, you were sure you’d have trouble breathing the rest of the night, already fantasizing about how exhilarating it’d be to take it off after everything was said and done.

With an anxious sigh, you leaned forward to carefully color in your lips. You gave yourself one last look over in the mirror before leaving your bedroom. A subtle cringe shook your frame as your heels clacked noisily against the wood floor. The last thing you wanted was to be questioned anymore by your father than you had already been when he saw you poking through your mom’s old jewelery box. You had played it off as a fundraising event your university was hosting, but you weren’t sure that he was entirely convinced.

There was a firm knock at the front door that had you rolling your eyes in exasperation, because you had told him to just text you when he got here. You were grateful that it seemed as though your dad was still out and not here to witness Satoru Gojo of all people picking his daughter up as a date. With a final huff of self-encouragement, you pulled the door open.

Now, he had had a line prepared about the hell of a place you got here, what with all the acres of land extending out the back of the property, but his lazy joke dissipated from his mind at the sight of you all done up for him. You looked so different than the last times that he’d seen you, and it wasn’t just that your eyes were shimmering with intricately placed shadows, or that your dress hugged your frame sinfully.

No, it was the light in your eyes that had previously been overshadowed by the weight of your responsibilities each time you’d seen him. Gone was that lingering exhaustion that dared taint your features, and in its place was a hopeful glimmer that knocked the wind from him as you directed it up at him with fluttering lashes.

He no longer felt like the young-adult he had grown to be, resembling more so a fumbling teenage boy picking up the homecoming date that was far out of his league. Anxiously, fiddling with the knot of his tie as if it was to blame for his sudden labored breathing, he chuckled half-heartedly.

“You clean up nice for someone who didn’t even want to come in the first place.” Gojo quipped as he bowed theatrically with an outstretched hand.

“Well I sure hope I look the part with how much I’m charging you.” The wink you sent him as you placed your hand in his nearly had him falling to his knees, and he wondered how he would survive the remainder of the night without embarrassing himself.

Nearly the entire drive was dedicated to him giving you the rundown of the event— who would be there, who he was pointedly trying to avoid, the sequence of events for the coming night. It all somehow snowballed into him babbling about the reality show worthy fueds and shambled love lives of the city's most elite names. You wanted to keep up, but Lord could this boy talk.

Even with all his rambling, nothing could have prepared you for the hundreds of scrutinizing eyes that fell upon you as soon as you entered on the arm of the hosts’ infamously single son. There were already a myriad of guests here, drinks in everyone’s hands and people on the dance floor.

“Why do I get the vibe that we’re disgustingly late?” You muttered through a polite smile, your hand curling tighter around Satoru’s bicep as you two continued making your way in.

“Pfft, if they want me to stay till it ends, I sure as hell ain’t coming right when it starts.” He retorted with a scoff before leaning down to your ear-shot. “Learn the ways of the disastrous prodigal son, princess.”

There wasn’t a chance in hell that he was ever going to let you live that one down.

“Ooo, and there are those people I was avoiding. Remember the ones with the twin daughters— come dance with me.” You could barely keep up with his rapid fire, and you wouldn’t have the chance to ask him to reiterate because he was moving toward the center of the room like a man on a mission, because he was one, the mission being to get through this thing unscathed.

“Wait, Gojo, I don’t know how to dance.” You whispered-shouted as you tried to desperately dig your heels into the ground, but he was stronger than you and a hell of a lot more determined.

“Just stand there and pretend to be in love with me— I’ll do the rest.” He winked, the arm you had yourself wrapped around swooping down to scoop you against him with an urging hand on the small of your back. “Hand on the shoulder— atta girl.”

Through your flustered blush, you glared indignantly at his patronizing. He tutted softly, his other hand dancing down the silken skin of your arm to grasp at yours.

“That look isn’t screaming ‘love sick’.” Gojo informed through an amused smile. Before you could manage to huff out a response, he had spun around to dip you dramatically, the abrupt motion emitting a delighted squeal from you, much to his satisfaction. “There it is— keep looking at me like that. Talk to me— really sell it.”

You weren’t sure how he did it— how his effortless charm managed to break through even the strongest of resentments you held toward that last name of his. It was all around you though, enveloping you in his orbit and blanketing you in a warmth you were sure was radiating right off your incandescent cheeks. As you stared at the flickers of indigo that seemed to speckle throughout his otherwise icy irises, you nearly forgot what you were supposed to be doing.

“Right, um…” Your eyes fluttered dramatically as you racked your mind for anything to say to him. The dimple in his right cheek that winked at you with each of his ravishing smirks made it difficult for you to stay on track. “Physics.”

“Physics?” He repeated with unconcealed mirth, and you nodded.

“The book you checked out the other day— it was a physics book.” He hummed affirmatively as if questioning where the hell you were going with this. Truthfully though, he was too lost in the flustered twitching of your plush lips to care if any of what you were saying actually made any real sense. From so close, he could see the sun-spots lining your nose and cheeks like the most breathtaking of constellations. “It just surprised me. It’s not a required class for business majors.”

“It’s not, and I—” He paused his explanation to twirl you under his arm, reveling in the enraptured smile that graced your face as he pulled you back in. “—am not a business major.”

“Oh? The prodigal son dares not follow in his father’s footsteps? How scandalous.” There was an airy giggle lingering in your tone that fell upon his ears like the most harmonious of symphonies. “And what, pray tell, is the alternative that has led his little lamb astray?”

Those curved lips of his parted to indulge your curiosity, but the announcement that dinner would be served momentarily had a groan slipping past them instead. Just as he moved to guide you to the respective table with a hand on the small of your back, you tugged at his sleeve.

“Wait, I have to pee.” You whispered, hoping the guests bustling around you didn’t hear it.

“Oh— yeah, there’s a bathroom to the right of the entrance.”

He was about to walk away, leave you to do your business when you clutched tighter at his sleeve. Looking down at you with furrowed brows, you stared up at him with wide, pleading eyes that said please don’t leave me.

You heard Gojo’s head bumping impatiently against the door of the restroom as you managed to wrangle the zipper of your dress down. There was an embarrassingly long attempt of trying to simply lift the gown up as would have been far easier, but it was proven difficult with the stubbornly form fitting fabric. Now though, as the joints in your shoulders flexed painfully in an attempt to zip it back up, you realized you had an even bigger dilemma.

Mortified beads of sweat began lining your forehead as you panted at your reflection in the mirror, your zipper still barely halfway up your back.

“Did you fall in or something?” You heard him call out from outside the door, only making your heart pound more mercilessly against your chest.

“I-I’m fine! I’ll be right out.” But your voice was trembling ever so slightly in the midst of your subtle panic, and it made him push off the door, leaning in closer with furrowed brows.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” You stammered breathlessly, but you were rapidly coming to the realization that you wouldn’t be getting out of this without some help. Fighting back tears of frustration, you leaned your forehead against the door. “I— I’m just kind of… stuck.”

“Stuck?” The doorknob jiggled with his attempt to get in. “Open the door.”

The already stuffy air of the restroom seemed to grow ten degrees warmer in tandem with your crippling embarrassment as you hyped yourself up. Holding up the front of your dress, you timidly cracked the door open. Gojo was quickly shoving his face in through the small opening, assessing the situation with an incredulous expression. He almost laughed, but it died in his throat upon seeing your panicked face.

“Okay, alright, calm down. Let me in.” You moved back as he slipped inside.

“I-I can’t get it back up.”

“You’re fine. Turn around and let me try.” Gojo steadied his hands on your shoulders as you turned your back to face him. A brief sigh of relief fell from your lips at the sound of the zipper rolling up, but it halted midway. He paused, blinking a few times before attempting to tug it up again. “Okay— um…”

“Oh my god.”

“No, no, it’s— it’s fine.” But the laughter he was previously suppressing began to boil over to the surface. It came out as a controlled choke in his attempt to push it down, but you still heard it.

“It’s not funny!”

“I’m not laughing!”

“You’re laughing at me!”

His teeth were sinking mercilessly into his bottom lip to avoid pissing you off anymore, but the wolfish grin on his face was making it increasingly difficult. Falling forward until his forehead laid against your shoulder, he shook his head with a boyish cackle.

“Ohhh, you’ve made this night so much more entertaining for me.” He sighed wistfully before pushing you forward to dramatically haul his foot onto the toilet seat as if to brace himself. “Alright, deeep breath for me, let’s go.”

In spite of your humiliation, you too couldn’t help but begin giggling nervously at the absurdity of the situation. Gulping in a deep breath, you straightened your posture as stiff as you could as a theatrical grunt bubbled in his chest with his firm tug. The blasted zipper finally slid up the remainder of your back, leaving you both hollering in relief.

“See?” Satoru was clutching onto your arms lest you double over with the force of your belly laughs. “You just needed a big, strong— ”

“Satoru?”

Both your heads shot up to look at the now open door, and the woman you recognized as his mother now stood at the entrance with a less than impressed expression on her stern face. You could have strangled him for not bothering to even close the door, let alone lock it.

Mortified wouldn’t be a strong enough word.

Your fingers dug anxiously into your thighs as you sat at the painstakingly quiet table, sat right across from the woman who had just witnessed her son wrangling you back into your dress in the event’s restroom. At the very least, it seemed Satoru wasn’t fairing any better, staring down at his place setting as he took an absentminded sip of his wine. You had never seen him so… serious before. Though you had only known him briefly, it felt like a completely different man sitting next to you.

“So, I assume you two met at university?” His father’s stoic voice was finally the one to break the tension that he wasn’t even sure the reason of in the first place.

Glancing up with a fluttering gaze, you found the man’s familiarly striking blue eyes directed at you.

“Um, yes. We attend the same university.” You thought it best to not specify that that wasn’t where you two met, already having made an ill impression on his mother as it was.

“Oh? And what are you studying?” His mother opened her mouth for the first time since redirecting the both of you to the table. You looked up as the wait staff set a salad in front of you, though you felt far too anxious to eat right now.

“My major is in business.” You informed, picking up your fork in an attempt to at least look like you weren’t internally short-circuiting. There was a soft nudge on your thigh as Satoru subtly bumped his knee against you to get your attention. Peering over, you noted with flushed cheeks that he was tapping at the smaller fork at your placement, praying his parents didn’t make a comment to embarrass you any further. Gulping harshly, you moved to correct your mistake.

“Business, huh?” His father’s face seemed to light up marginally at your answer, and he looked toward his son pointedly. “Perhaps you can talk some sense into Satoru then. He’s been so stubborn about this… what is it again?”

You watched from your peripheral as his hand clenched at his silverware in response to his father’s not-so-subtle jab.

“Quantum physics.” He responded bluntly, stabbing at the tomato on his plate a bit more aggressively than necessary.

It was becoming clear to you the reason for his abrupt switch in temperament. You had only spent all of ten minutes sat with his parents, and it was evident how they seemed to drain that spark that was usually so easily present in his eyes. His response made your lips part slightly in astonishment. It’s not that you thought he was stupid, but you certainly had never pegged him as the type disciplined enough for such a rigorous field.

“Quantum physics!” His dad held his hand out with a bitter laugh before looking back at you. “Now what do you suppose he is going to get out of studying quantum physics that will be more fruitful than if he stayed within the family business?”

You wanted to defend him, already preparing a curt but respectful response about how he’d get more out of studying something he was passionate about, but the older Gojo continued talking.

“Is that what you’re doing?” He asked you as he took a sip of his wine. “Studying to stay within a family business?”

The mention of your family spilling from the lips of the very man responsible for ninety percent of their struggles made your jaw clench. Perhaps it was the forlorn expression that had overtaken Satoru’s once lively face that gave you the courage to not simply brush it under the rug.

“Actually, I’m studying business in hopes of buying my father’s farm from him in the future.” You clarified with your lips set in a firm line. Beside you, Satoru’s head slowly turned to face you as it seemed he had come to the realization faster than his parents were.

“A farm?” His dad scoffed with an amused smile. “That’s nonsense. No sense in wasting your efforts on a farm. You should hope to do better than your parents did, don’t you think? I certainly hope the same for my son.”

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks, cluching at the napkin in your lap.

“Dad, that’s—”

“Better?” You laughed bitterly, cutting off whatever attempt Gojo was going to make to defend you. “Perhaps, sir, my father’s farm would be doing better if your company wasn’t driving him off his own land.”

It seemed that the man was finally putting two and two together, your last name falling from his lips in recognition.

“I see what this is about.” He shook his head with a patronizing smile, wiping at his mouth with the stark white napkin. “Sweetheart, this is just the way society progresses. City’s grow, and—”

“As does your bank account, I’m assuming.” You bit back with a raised brow. “What progresses society is people who actually give a shit about that society.”

“A farmer’s mouth too to match her father’s. Boy, son, do you know how to pick them.”

“Dad! ” Satoru growled out in warning as his silverware clattered down onto his plate, and you weren’t sure if the flush in his cheeks was from anger or humiliation.

“Don’t bother.” You abruptly stood from your seat, hoping desperately that you could hold your mortified tears back long enough to not break down in front of everyone. “I think I’ve had my fill of playing dress up for one night.”

As you stormed toward the exit, the bottom of your dress bundled up furiously in your hands, you could hear Satoru calling after you. You couldn’t bear to look back at him though, the tears falling in angry, stinging streams down your cheeks as the fresh air nipped at your face. His long legs seemed to carry him much faster than you anticipated though, and his hand was soon curling desperately around your arm.

“Please, I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

“No, but I did, okay?” You cried, swiping furiously at the mascara you were sure was staining your face right now. “I knew better, and I still let myself be— be humiliated. So, please just spare me the pity and let me go home, Gojo.”

“I’ll drive you—”

“Alone. I want to go home alone.”

His movements faltered, a hushed guilt striking his handsome face. The moonlight’s illumination seemed to bounce off his incandescent eyes as his gaze fluttered. With a solemn nod, he strode toward the sleek, black car parked just out front and knocked on the window. When it rolled down, a black-haired man peeked out in question as he adjusted the square frames on his nose.

“Take her home.” Satoru demanded simply before moving to open the back door for you. You kept your eyes focused on the ground as you ducked into the vehicle, but you could feel his solemn gaze burning a hole into the side of your head with every step. “I mean it— I’m sorry.”

After a pregnant pause with no response, he turned his head to the side, his Adam's apple bobbing with his strained gulp as he closed the door.

For the first time in what seemed like years, you went home and allowed yourself to cry in your father’s arms. Of course, this entailed your explanation of what had actually been going on that night, but you were too beside yourself to care anymore. In truth, you wished you could have told him how much you hated it, how you were counting the seconds until you could leave and forget about whatever idiotic agreement you’d made with Gojo. You couldn’t though, and that made your bitter tears that much worse.

Despite your rampant views on the lap of luxury these people draped themselves upon, it felt new and exciting to be at the front of it for the first time. As you desperately wracked your brain to explain your sudden change of heart, all clues pointed back to him, because it was exhilarating to waltz with him as though you had stumbled upon an ever gracious prince, and you could still feel the aching in your cheeks from the sheer force of the laughter he was able to pull from you even during perhaps one of the most embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions of your life.

You had come to the realization, and perhaps your father had as well, that it wasn’t the respect of the haughty company that had surrounded you two that night that made you feel so depraved as it was pulled from you— it was Satoru, and the way you couldn’t for the life of you find it in yourself to fault him for the impertinence of the masses, no matter how much easier it might have been if you did.

A tear escaped you for every memory of each smirk, each lingering touch and longing gaze— because it was the brash reminder of your glaring differences that stung worst of all. It was the realization that at your very core, you and Satoru were one in the same— in a desperate pursuit against the expectations set before you, yet forcefully pulled into the sickening orbit of their consequences nonetheless.

Satoru Gojo wasn’t at fault, you finally admitted to yourself as you stared up at your ceiling that night. You thought about the darkness that shrouded him with each insolent syllable that fell from his parent’s lips. You thought about how lonely it must feel in that grand house of his with no one around that didn’t have an agenda to push on him.

You thought about how many times he must have hidden in that little alcove in his vast hallway— not because he was the Gojo family’s disaster, but because however grating the silence his seclusion provided mustn’t have compared to the gruelling disquietude of belonging to family who had everything in the world except an ounce of care for their only son.

You had stopped crying for the shamed farmer’s daughter, and instead shed a tear for the forgotten prodigal son.

In the midst of star-lit dreams of dance floors barren of self-righteousness, you were pulled from your slumber by the distinct, sharp thuds against your window. It was proven difficult to pry your eyes open, given the countless streams that had stung them to sleep. Rubbing sluggishly at them in hopes of waking up enough to assess the situation, you slowly sat up in your bed. You paused for a moment, wondering if perhaps you had just been dreaming the offending noise, but it soon sounded once again.

Pulling yourself begrudgingly off your warmed sheets, you slowly made your way to the window, almost fearful of what you’d find as you peeked through the curtains.

“Oh my god.” You rasped out at the sight before you. Ripping your curtains aside, you wrangled your window open with a soft grunt. “What in god’s name are you doing, Gojo?”

He looked up at you as if surprised that you’d actually appeared, and the stunned expression made you wonder how many of the windows in your house he had assaulted before finally finding yours. His neatly tailored, sleek black suit still sat proudly on his frame as he huffed out a sigh.

“You were supposed to say ‘Romeo, oh Romeo—”

“Do you not remember what else Juliet tells Romeo in this scene?” You whispered furiously down at him, but he only blinked owlishly at you. “She tells him that he’s gonna get his ass beat if he gets caught. You’re not exactly my dad’s favorite person right now.”

“Then come down here.” He insisted pleadingly, holding up a bag for you to see. “I stole you a piece of cake.”

The two of you sat in the bed of your truck, shoulders slumped against one another as you passed a plate of cake back and forth. Neither of you were quite sure what to say, but you both knew it was comforting that the stars shining above you held nary an opinion about either of your paths. There was a blackening bruise lining his right undereye, the lid ever-so-slightly squinted shut. He didn’t mention anything about the way your eyes were still swollen from the tears you had shed, so you didn’t ask about his black eye or split knuckles.

“I’m sorry, Gojo.” It was the only thing you could think to say. Part of you was apologizing for the harsh manner in which you had prematurely critiqued him, the other part felt obligated to apologize for whatever had transpired between him and his father following your departure.

“Don’t call me that.” He shook his head, that tired expression haunting his face once again. “That’s not who I want to be— not right now.”

Gulping down the lump in your throat, you corrected yourself.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.”

It was silent for a few moments longer as you two finished your shared dessert. With a sigh, you leaned your head back to stare up at the myriad of stars shining down on you, and, from your peripheral, you saw Satoru do the same.

“There’s a theory in quantum physics that says objects don’t exist independently.” He began, his good eye working to count each star that caught his attention— willing them into existence. “In other words, if no one is around to see it, it just… doesn’t exist.”

Your lashes fluttered as you soaked in his words, the implications weighing down on your chest as you cast a sidelong glance his way, but he was too busy assuring that each star was observed, acknowledged and therefore real.

“I think it felt like that for me. Like the version of me I actually understood didn’t exist because no one was willing to acknowledge it.” He confessed, his head finally lolling to the side to observe you next. Each freckle and scar, each blink and trembling lip was confirmed under his watchful eye. “I don’t think anyone’s ever seen it.”

“I see it.” You reassured in a hushed whisper. A small smile finally curled at the corners of his mouth as he nodded softly.

“You see it.” He confirmed.

You hummed pensively, a modest smile of your own lighting your features ablaze.

“So if you closed your eyes right now— I would just cease to exist then?” You challenged his theory teasingly, wondering when the last time it was that he had gotten to speak about his passion to anyone who actually cared. Although he knew the partially philosophical theory ran much deeper than the laden explanation you were giving, he couldn’t help but indulge your challenge.

“Science is science, princess.” Satoru shrugged with a beguiled smirk.

“So, you’re saying— ” You leaned forward to tug on his already loosened tie until it came undone. The motion had a rushing heat swirling in his chest, taking note of the way the moonlight emphasized the mischievous glint hidden in your eyes. “If I tied this thing around your eyes— poof— I’m no longer here?”

“Well, a good scientist always tests his theories, of course.” He stammered breathlessly, his legs parting to accommodate your crawling between them. His lips parted as you slowly moved the tie over his fluttering eyes, your chests brushing together while you reached behind him to secure it around his head.

Moving away from him, you leaned back to observe your handiwork. Although blindfolded, you still tilted your head with a teasing smirk as though he’d be able to see it.

“Well?” You whispered, watching the way his chest heaved with anticipatory pants. “Am I still here?”

The aged truck creaked ever-so-slightly as Satoru shifted onto his knees, his hands reaching out blindly until they met your ankle. Using it as a guide, he carefully crawled forward, hands snaking up your body until he was hovering above you. The ends of the tie that hung from the back of his head brushed against your cheek as he leaned down closer to you.

“Not sure yet.” His hushed tone sent shivers down your spine, and you laid back to stare up at him.

Nimble fingers trailed up to search out your face, and a tickled smile fought its way onto his lips when he grazed your nose instead on his pursuit. Although it wasn’t his target, he still brushed a featherlight touch down the bridge of your nose before moving to cup your flushed cheeks.

“Your nose is still here, cheeks are still here.” Satoru murmured each checkpoint tenderly. Humming contentedly, he brushed a few lingering hairs behind your ears, thumbing against the delicate lobes in feigned assessment. “Hair, ears…”

His face was drawing closer with each confirmation, and soon the fingers that were still tucked behind your nape pulled your head up ever so slightly until his lips brushed against yours. It was barely a graze initially, a deliberate tease that he was quickly realizing he didn’t have the willpower to keep up, quickly abandoning it in favor of molding his mouth harmoniously against yours.

“Your lips,” He sighed wantonly against you, his voice almost falling into a soft whine. “Your lips are still here— thank god.”

You giggled against him, reaching up to run your fingernails down the short, velvety hairs of his neatly kept undercut. It made him shiver, a smirk curling into your frenzied kiss as he hummed appreciatively.

“Your hands.” Satoru continued as you pushed at his suit jacket, making him pull away from you for a moment as he shrugged it off. The very hands that he’d just confirmed the existence of didn’t pull him back down right away, instead surprising him as they worked quickly to unbutton his dress shirt, and it was soon joining his jacket in a discarded pile beside you. He clutched at your wrists maneuvering them to run your tender hands down his chest.

And so he disproved his own theory with the eager exploration of each heaven-sent inch of you, pulling your sweater over your head to confirm the way your breasts heaved against his chest, leaning down to brush his nose and lips across each one of good measure. You aided him with fumbling shuffles to pull down your sweatpants, his desolate moan nearly breaking the resolve of your patience as he carefully inched forward to lick a strip up your folds that glistened under the moonlight in a manner he wished he could see.

“All here, princess.” Satoru murmured near drunkenly, pressing a few sloppy kisses against your throbbing heat to elicit a few more of those bewitching whimpers from you before making his way back up to press his lips bruisingly against yours.

“And if you leave would I still be here?” You panted against his lips, reaching down to fumble with the buckle of his belt before pulling his bottoms down past the lean curve of his ass.

“I won’t leave— I’ll never leave.” He shook his head forlornly, glistening lips falling open as you grasped at his cock. Falling forward on his elbows, his clammy forehead pressed against yours.

“Swear it.” You gasped as his tip pushed blindly into you, your moans synchronizing in blissful tandem. Through his parted lips, you could still see the way his lips twitched up at your words.

“What shall I swear by?”

Your heels dug into the cool surface of the truck bed, driving your hips up, pushing him deeper into you as he ground down, the subtle impact sending his head reeling back up to face the stars.

“Not your parents, not your last name.” Your responses began to sound like mindless babbles, but he could swear he understood each syllable as he nodded desolately in raptured agreement. The blunt edges of your short nails dug into his nape to pull him closer to you, your lips brushing once again and sharing each exhale greedily into one another’s mouths. “By you, just you, Satoru.”

“I swear.” He gasped, his hips snapping up in a brutal pursuit of your mutual intoxication. Each of your saccharine moans sent tendrils of euphoric bliss twisting down his spine, and he clutched at your waist in an attempt to ground himself as he felt his own thrusts quickly losing their focus. “I swear— ah! I swear I’ll never leave, and you’ll— ” His rapturous moans cut rudely between his oath. “— and you’ll always be here.”

“I’ll always be here.” You confirmed, brows meshing up as you watched him fall apart with the reassurance of your promise. Reaching up, you pulled the tie down to fall around his neck, his eyes finding yours in an instant as though he would be able to pinpoint their warmth even blind, and he was sure he could— he was sure he could do anything as he spilled himself into you, riding out his high with slack-jawed, lanugid grinds.

“You’ll always be here.”

And it was true even as you two woke beside one another that next morning after you’d snuck him up to your room. The bruise around his eye had spread substantially, the injured lid now swelled completely shut, but he swore even with just one eye to behold you that you were just as stunning as you had been beneath the moon’s gracious light last night underneath of him. Sitting up on his hands, he allowed the sheets to fall down his chest as he observed the way you seemed to still shiver even under the protective layers of your sweater and thick bottoms.

Brushing the hair from your face, he leaned down to press his lips against your temple, each of his tender kisses pulling you farther and farther away from your slumber until you stirred beneath him. He smiled when you groaned in disapproval at his interruption of your coma-like state.

“Sorry, I just don’t want your dad to catch—”

But, much like the theory he rambled on about the night prior, his acknowledgment of the man seemed to will him right into existence with a careful knock on your door. You shot up into a sitting position, eyes wide and frantic as you moved to push against Satoru’s shoulders, attempting with fleeting hope to wrangle his large frame into the closet or perhaps under the bed.

No attempt would be fast enough though, not with your father’s burning desire to check on you following the state that you’d gone to sleep in the night prior, and the door creaked open.

“You doing okay, sweet—”

There in the cramped bed of his daughter was the very man you had cried against him for just mere hours ago— the son of the very family that had assured you’d never hope for your own aspirations in life, far too focused on fixing his that the Gojo’s had made their life mission to ruin. An unreadable mix of emotions swirled onto his stunned face in a way that had both of you holding your breath.

His lips parted, but he took note of the swelled, gruellingly dark bruise that surrounded his eye and branched out subtly onto the bridge of his nose. He watched the way the Satoru still clung to your hand, and how your fingers curled in uncertainty into the fabric of his open, button down shirt. He thought about how despite all that you had told him last night— you couldn’t find it in you to speak an ill word about him, only noting to your father how scared he’d looked at a dinner table with his own parents.

Your father’s tired shoulders slowly deflated as he sighed.

“Why don’t you two come down to get something to eat?” With that, he shut the door, leaving the two of you in stunned silence as his boots retreated down the stairs.

“Is that—” Satoru licked his lips anxiously, his good eye flickering frantically around the room before falling on you. “Is that code for something?

You could only silently shake your head, your gaze still fixed upon the door he’d just left through. Although your heart was still pounding relentlessly against your ribcage, it was beginning to settle with the assurance that your father was a far more merciful man than you had ever given him credit for.

The two of you slowly creeped downstairs after having gotten yourselves together, Satoru’s white hair still disheveled from your pillow as he hesitantly poked his head out to peer toward the kitchen. Your father’s back was facing him, working to flip what looked to be a pancake on the griddle before him, but he turned around upon hearing the creaks in the stairs.

You had to give him props, because even despite his nerves surrounding his life at the moment, he still stepped forward to bow to your father in greeting, a motion that had the smallest of smiles hinting at the man’s lips. With a hum, he turned back around to plate the pancake that had finished cooking.

“My daughter tells me you're a physicist, Gojo.” He commented, taking the plate of stacked pancakes to place them on the table.

It took him aback, as he wasn’t sure anyone had ever called him that before— ever even acknowledged the path he had chosen for himself. You watched with a soft gaze as his good eye fluttered rapidly while he blinked away the misty haze that seemed to involuntarily cloud it. With a growing smile, he nodded slowly, taking a seat in the chair your dad had pulled out for him.

“Trying to be, sir.” He explained breathlessly before looking up at you with a tender smile. “And it’s Satoru— just Satoru.”

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ewanmitchelll · 7 months ago

Text

Imagine you can fix him. No, really, you can.

Warnings: drama, angst and (explicit) smut; long post; some canon divergence…

***

You’ve been raised at court as part of Princess Helaena’s retinue. Due to your noble status, this isn’t different any other lady of your station might’ve expected.

You have grown close to the princess, and the two of you are very good friends—more like sisters, truthfully. Due to your similar nature, both of you found yourselves reading, sewing and dancing when possible.

But as you grew, you eventually found another companion to spend your time at court with. The second wayward son of King Viserys, Lord Aemond.

Here’s how all it began…

***

• (I) Broken infancy.

Right after the mess where the Queen confronted her stepdaughter about what had happened between Rhaenyra’s offspring and Aemond, you opt to go after him.

It’s dark. It’s late and you should be elsewhere, but you pay little mind to these rules. You find Aemond outdoors, sitting in the stairs as if he’s contemplating quietly the price paid for losing an eye.

You think you hear a sniff, but you’re not sure. You wait until silence is absolute before making yourself announced.

“L-Lord Prince.”

Aemond turns abruptly, completely out of guard. He hates the vulnerability, but before he can come out with a snark response, you step forward and say:

“I do not mean to intrude. But… may I offer you company?”

The boy looks at you with distrust.

“What are your business here, Lady Y/LN? You should be with my sister.”

“I was worried about you…”

“I don’t need your pity”, and saying so he spits out.

“You don’t”, you agree calmly even if you’re shaken inside. “But everyone needs a friend.”

There is a small pause where you anxiously wait for him to give you some space. Eventually he does since there’s no one around.

“Well. Helaena doesn’t like many people, but here you are, the only one she actually spends time with”, mumbles Aemond.

You smile before taking a seat by his side.

“It appears so.”

Neither of you speak for a while. You know Aemond is still getting used to your company, so you speak nothing.

“I’m sorry”, you tell him.

The prince casts a look at this y/c haired lady of the house y/c dressed in the manner of the Hightower. Despite the remaining distrust in his eyes, you know he reads you.

What a process to forge a bond, and yet here you are.

“For what? You did nothing wrong.”

“No. But I lament for the loss you went through.”

“Well…”, and here he inclines his head towards the great shadow flying over the dark skies. “It was worth the dragon I reclaimed.”

“Like every Targaryen before you.”

Something about you said seems to knock his defenses down. However this isn’t something Aemond is prepared to admit. Yet.

***

• (II) Darkness & Light.

Aemond keeps an eye on you as much as you keep an eye on him. You’ve grown to a handsome woman, wearing gowns that reinforce your curves even though nothing in your actions deem other than innocence.

You and Helaena are almost twins. Could be so had you been birthed by Queen Alicent. Perhaps this is why Aegon looks down on you as much as he does to his sister-wife.

But the wayward, gloomy Prince, who at times opts to find his path towards his… whore, cannot divert away of you.

In fact, he is rather surprised to see you gravitating towards him just as he leaves the room.

“Y/N”, Aemond whispers your name, hands behind his back, not turning his head to welcome you… and because he hopes you don’t spot a slight, timid smirk that forms on his lips due to your presence.

“My dear Aem. Going to practice with Ser Criston again?”

You purposely link your arm to his, nudging his side playfully to tease him the way you know he doesn’t like.

But the prince can’t get rid of you, can he?

“Like always.”

“May I watch it?”

“If you want to.”

Aemond knows silence is not your best trait, something that he, in fact, appreciates.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been out of my sight again”, you muse, eyeing him closely.

He avoids your gaze, aware of what you talk about. But why does he feel a hint of shame knock his pride?

“Hum”, it’s all he says.

You sigh heavily. By how you breathe heavily, Aemond knows you are about to lose your temper.

“Don’t “hum” at me, Aemond Targaryen. You’ve been whoring again, haven’t you?”

To your surprise, he stops abruptly, turning at you in such a way that makes you blush. Aemond reads you, him too baffled when discovering you might actually have feelings for him.

How else would you feel so possessive towards me, Y/Nickname?

Today, your hair is tied in two perfectly braids. They are long enough to fall over your waist, Aemond notices. Your eyes are livid, he can tell the amount of repressed feelings that are behind the colour that paints them—and he is intrigued to know what these are.

You are chewing your bottom lip, a sign of nervousness—he never took you for an insecure person.

Are you afraid of losing me?

And then there’s something about the gown, green like always, that makes him want to rip it. He can tell your breasts are tied… and he wants to release the pressure this gown is making on them. Suddenly, comes to his mind a scene where he is sucking your nipples, rubbing one with his thumb all the whilst using his tongue to play with the other.

Perhaps you’d like that, Y/N. To be treated well. Perhaps you’d be a better replacement than my whore.

Indecent thoughts that he cannot sweep off his mind, but that his mind plays a good effort to it because you are a good precious damsel who doesn’t serve to be part of his dark, sinful self.

And yet… what he sees in you is the light that blinds him. Another sight he cannot lose. So he does what’s best of him to do: push people away.

“How does this concern you, Lady Y/N? You’ve been a good friend, but you are nothing more to me.”

Words that shouldn’t have come out this way. But they do. When seeing the hurt in your eyes, Aemond knows the weight of his lies. Suddenly, he realizes he wishes he could be saved.

And you, as his savior, have been pushed away.

“I am not quitting on you”, you wear your prideful mask, which intrigues him. “Still going to watch your practice though. Besides, I was only asking… because of your mother.”

Aemond cannot amend the awkwardness, but his mind screams at him for not bothering in doing so.

“I know.”

So he turns his back on you. And to his consternation, you stay.

Whilst Aemond practices with his sword, you shut yourself in your world. Your eyes are carefully down whenever a courtier passes by—you detest to get the male attention, not when you wish for more on Aemond’s part.

But you little foolish thing, he doesn’t want you. The prince sees you as a friend, is all. An extension of Helaena.

You struggle with your tears as this thought occurs you, but perhaps this isn’t so bad, is it? Duty often sacrifices sentiments. Perhaps you should tell your sister, Queen to be, that you are ready to marry and then… stay away of him for good.

But the courage in this decision soon dissipates the moment you raise your eyes and find Aemond staring at you.

And you know you’ve been trapped.

***

• (III) Scars.

You are about to slip under your blankets when the door of your bedchambers are abruptly opened. You are frightened when hearing the sound due to your exposed state: your line nightgown poorly covers your nipples and you still have no time to throw robes to cover yourself when he stands before you.

Distressed, anguished. In who he really is. In one broken state you’ve only seen once.

You forget yourself when you run to hold Aemond Targaryen in your arms.

“My love”, you whisper, letting him sob. “My prince”.

You pull him to yourself, the only one Aemond trusts with his being. The only one he knows he can be himself, with his scars and open vices. He clings onto you, he digs his fingers onto your waist, letting him be guided to your bed before burying his head against your belly.

You can only imagine what had struck him like this. A feast of demons over his head, each fighting for his flesh. And yet you are here, battling against them.

When he finally stops sobbing, he looks up at him. You’ve never seen him so fragile, so famine for affection. And here you are. Providing what he needs.

“Tell me all”, you whisper.

“I do not want to. You’ll find a monster in me”, and yet he holds onto your hips, fearful you’d let go of him.

“You are not a monster, Aemond. You may have some vices, but you are a human being like anyone else”, you tell him gently. “Come here.”

Aemond obeys you, sitting in front of you.

“Let me tend you”, you whisper. “I’ll prepare your bath.”

“Y/Nickname…”, he holds your wrist firmly.

“I won’t leave you. I won’t abandon you”, you assure him. “Do you trust in me?”

Aemond nods his head.

“My boy, then let me bath you. Besides”, and here you dress your best smile. “You smell like old dragon.”

Finally something that pulls out a smile of him. As he sits there, you are quick to fetch servants to prepare him a good bath. When you go back at him, Aemond gives you that intense look which gives you shivers.

And wets you in between your legs too.

But this isn’t the moment nor the time.

“Come. It’s ready.”

You lean against the wall of the privy quarters as Aemond starts to undress. Even though he is damaged for what he’s done, he likes to feel the weight of your gaze on him. And he smirks when he stands nude before you.

“I don’t think you’ve seen me like this”, he muses.

You don’t look away when he says so. Aemond feels a heat growing inside him.

“No, I don’t. Not physically anyway”, you point out.

“Don’t look away”, he asks.

You dare to scan his body with your discreet gaze, eyeing his well build muscles, attentive to his scars and… his manhood, which is now erected. And quickly you look away, blushing, as he chuckles.

“You’ve never seen one up before, my lady?”, he asks, sliding into the tub.

You gently knee behind him and get to rub his back with a sponge.

“Do not take me to your whore, Aemond”, you snap at him.

The prince smiles at it. He lets you clean him before he dives into the water. When coming back to the surface, the prince is disappointed for not seeing you there.

A moment later, though, when he’s dressed in clean clothes, says Aemond with a subtle accusation tone:

“You left me there for one moment…”

“You surely can handle yourself as you finished you bath. I am only your friend, wasn’t that what you called me?”

Aemond sighs.

“Y/Nickname, I shouldn’t have said that.”

He comes at you and rests his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder. When you side look at him, you spot that old fragility rarely seen.

It’s what melts you down.

“Very well. Come here. Let me tend you”, and now back to your bed, you and him lace your fingers together, his head in between your breasts. “What did you do, Aemond?”

You stroke his hair with your loose hand, aware that he’d done something bad. But where others see him ruthless, you see a broken boy trying to find his worth in this misadjusted world.

“I…”, his embargoed voice has your attention.

“Yes?”, you lift his chin, now cupping his face; removing his eyepatch, you gently force him to look at you.

And here comes a tear.

“I killed him. But I didn’t mean to.”

“Who?”

But you know the answer.

“…Lucerys.”

Old wounds that never close… bleed endlessly. You sigh heavily, but rest your forehead against his.

“You shouldn’t have done that, my dear”, you speak softly.

“I understand.”

“But I won’t abandon you, you know that, do you?”, you hope to transmit him that, regardless of this sinful secret he shared with you, together you two are stronger.

“You are the only one who knows my weakness”, he buries his head against your neck, needy of you, weak and feeble. Fragile. “Do not dare to leave me.”

“You have always been sacred to me to be profaned now, Aemond”, you whisper.

He leans his body close to yours, transfixed by your irradiating beauty… and your unending loyalty.

The prince touches your face and you tilt your head, letting his slander fingers brush over your face and then going down to your neck. You partly wish that he goes below… a perception he sees evident in your eyes.

Aemond knows he’s as vulnerable as you. And yet his hand moves to your collarbone, unlacing your nightgown.

“So beautiful. You look as if I can be redeemed.”

“You can”, you lean closer, not minding how purposely your breasts slip out of the line. Your eyes remain locked with his all the whilst you take his face with your hands. “You can be redeemed.”

Aemond waits no further: his dragon fire awakes and he is about to burn you. You welcome his hungry lips thus, sighing in content as he crawls over your body, ripping impatiently your gown, promptly reclaiming you the same way he did Vhagar.

You subdue easily to him, letting him have his way to you. That his lips make his kiss ache every part of you gets a moan out of you, which in turn makes Aemond smirk.

You are mine and mine alone. I possess you, I take you as who you are, my lady Y/N.

Such are his thoughts, which you need naught to have the ability to read them; for they are readable in his tight grip of you, in how his tongue dominates yours along with his body.

Trapped under his dominance, you are found breathless and a puddle of mess when he parts the kiss to let slid his tongue over your jawline and neck, his fingers now pulling your hair gently, tangled in your curls.

Then he stops what he’s doing to contemplate your state under candlelight. And here he smirks.

“Divine you are, my lady. How can a man like me be worthy of a woman like you?”

You sensually lift your legs to pull him by his hips as you adjust your body so his can mould better in it. You like the lust in his eyes, one of the kind that doesn’t conceal his vices nor his virtues… one that shows his genuine feelings to you.

“You deserve all the love in the world, my dear Aemond. Let me heal you”, you stroke his cheeks, smiling gently.

“A flower soon to be deflowered by a rogue”, he sneers under his breath, but there’s no despise in his eyes, only the same old scars.

“I am your woman”, you tell him, and he’s surprised to find in you the same possessiveness there is in him. “I am not any flower, though.”

Aemond smirks. Whatever insecurities laid behind his good eye, now they are no more.

“You shall be more than that, darling”, he brushes his lips against yours, biting your bottom lip not long after. “My consort, mother of my heirs.”

As if to assure you he means every word, he not only kisses your neck and gets a few moans out of you, but leaves some bruises there. You’ve been marked.

Aemond, however, cannot take out of his thought the idea of corrupting you. Though it flings him with some guilt, the way your legs are wrapped around him, your bodies so perfectly moulded that leaves no doubt that it is hardly sinful what’s to be done.

You may spot some of it, so to assure him there’s no question of the legitimacy of the deed, you put yourself under him properly so he looks down at you… and yet your hand takes hold of his erect manhood.

“Y/N!”, he gasps in surprise.

You give him a malicious smirk at the same time there is nothing to encounter in your gaze that is not innocence itself. Inexperience you may be, but you have ears that long heard of maids doing so with their partners.

But to feel his cock responding well to your moves is a positive indicator that you are doing it well.

“My lady!”, he wants to stop you, but fuck it it’s so damn good. Aemond rolls his eye, almost falling over you. “You should not…”

“I want you”, you whisper in the back of his ear as you caress his face and hair with your free hand. “Carnally, emotionally, all that is between. I want my prince Aemond Targaryen the way he really is.”

It’s enough to wipe out any reasonable thought he may have in regarding preserving you of such naughtiness. Aemond lets out the repressed lust for you, his sentiments towards his lady—of the kind only his whore knew about—, and bloody seven hells… you know how to make him feel good!

All the whilst you enjoy feeling his precum getting your hand soaked, and twirling your thumb around the tip like he instructs you to—the very fact he’s the one teaching you also arouses him quite.

“Fuck”, and he growls against your skin, burying himself into your breasts, biting your nipples and sucking each ardently with the devotion of a lover.

So you too welcome a different sensation of bliss, a pleasure never before felt, hitting on your in waves of heat that get your body out of control. It does “worsen”, though, the moment he does to you what you do to him.

Aemond captures the surprise that flashes behind your eyes when he finds you soaked to the core. And then… not deeming to waste his seed, he takes your hands and pins over your head.

As his thighs are over yours, you see this handsome man towering over you. His well build muscles, his handsome manhood…

“Do you like the view, Princess?” Aemond asks gently, though the way he looks at you there’s nothing innocent or gentle.

And he sees how your body reacts. Which only arouses him further.

“Yes”, you are almost breathless. “Please, do not make me beg.”

Aemond chuckles low, hands wrapping around your neck.

“Oh, but aren’t you begging already, my love?”

And then he releases the pressure by inserting another finger in your womanhood.

“Mm. You like that, do you not?”, Aemond groans as you deliberately give yourself to him, a complete mess. He likes the view, to know he ruined you too.

And then he bends over… only to slowly insert his manhood into you.

“Oh Gods!”

Aemond side smirks at you.

“It’s going to be a long night, Princess Y/N.”

And to seal his promise, he pursuits your lips in a passionate kiss.

***

• (IV) The Great Escape.

As you stand quietly in the royal chambers, you detect grey clouds rumbling in the sky. You furrow your eyebrows at the sight, perceiving it as a bad omen.

It’s when Helaena comes at you, so suddenly and silently that you are almost startled by her presence.

“I see the boy”, she whispers at you, the only one who understands her. “He will conquer all.”

“Do you mean any of your brothers?”, you ask in the same tone.

Helaena smiles quietly, though in her eyes you detect a mix of apprehension and concern. You know she hesitates, so you hope to transmit calmness.

“Laena, do not fear. I shall keep your secret with me”, and you point to your heart.

She looks at your hands before giving a look at the horizon. You give her time. Then she turns her head and says:

“He shall not be king until other dies”, another pause. “You should not be here when Aegon becomes king.”

You are more than aware that Aegon is not really fond of you.

“Is war coming, dear Laena?”, you ask.

“No”, and here she smiles. “Not for you nor Aemond.”

You have the decency to blush. You’d think your secret encounters with Aemond remained a secret, but didn’t you underestimate your closest friend?

“I…”

“Do not apologize. You’ve brought him the light out of him.”

And in her own way of saying thanks, Helaena rests her head against your shoulder. So suddenly the announce of storm is dissipated… and your fears, likewise.

But before this light prevails, it is yet the time to cross the dark. Therefore, you are not entirely surprised to find Aemond vulnerable again. It’s late night and he comes for you in seek of solace. The one kind he’s been refused by his family.

Aemond slides through the half open door, already suspicious in not finding your privy chambers completely close. Hearing voices, a fang of jealousy threatens to bring out his worse when he comes to find out you and Helaena have been spending time together.

It is a relief, somewhat one that makes him smirk, to seeing you getting along with his family. Not that he cares about it, but…

He waits until Helaena is gone to surprise you. You are wearing a pink gown with details in pink and are just untying your braid, completely unaware of his silent presence.

Aemond is reclining against the wall, watching you remove the courtly garments that you wear daily, noticing in your distracted face different expressions he is used to see in you.

“You look exhausted”, his voice comes out as a single whisper right as you are caught off guard and almost crying out as a result. “What’s wrong?”

“Aemond!”, you yell. “Are you out of your mind? Always like a rat, aren’t you?”

He chuckles at your reaction, moving to where you stand so he can have you all to himself. You melt instantly in his arms, but then quickly recompose when noticing that vulnerability only you spot on.

“Wait. What happened?”

“You didn’t answer my question”.

You know it’s pointless to argue with him so you shrug your shoulders and say:

“Just tired, is all.”

You don’t think wise to tell that lately you’ve been having strange morning sickness, so you motion to fetch yourselves some wine before getting at him.

“Now your turn.”

Aemond doesn’t buy your lie, though. But taking the wine offered, he opts to keep that in his mind for a moment later.

“I’ve met the Strong boys.”

“Oh.”

And here comes the thunder…

“What do you mean by “oh”? I’ve been teased out and about, Y/N”, says a very moody Aemond. “Jacaerys and Joffrey think they can have their way out?”

And here he comes to burst in tears. That broken boy hasn’t been healed nor taken care of. You put your glass aside and move to embrace him. Like a needy child, he comes for support which you give him without second thoughts.

“What happened then?”

“A fight was only prevented because of my mother. She welcomed Rhaenyra and her bastards here.”

You let him burst out his anger, silent and pained, as you hold him. In moments like this is when he undress the rogue mask he often wore to public; -and it’s here his fragility is seen, which leads to a more intimate moment.

“You don’t feel at peace here.”

“No”, Aemond admits. “Not here not anywhere. But I aim to reclaim Harrenhal.”

A stranger shiver crosses your spine and even the prince feels it. He looks up at you, quizzically so.

“What was that?”

“Oh, the shiver? You felt it too?”, you try to make a joke about it. “So tight you felt it as if it were you, uh?”

But Aemond is serious.

“I am not joking, Y/N.”

“I had a bad feeling about this. You know the stories of Harrenhal.”

Now the silver haired man chuckles.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dragons could be a myth, and were treated as such before the Conquest by the Westerosi. And yet here they are”, you tell him firmly. “Stories contain a degree of truth. I did my homework.”

“I can tell.” And softening, he rises to cup your face and kiss your nose and lips. “I did not wish to distress you. But I cannot stay here any longer,Y/N.”

“Well…”, and you smile as you rest your forehead against his. “Let us runaway, Aemond. Together.”

“To where?”, Aemond isn’t sure about the idea, but this possibility does bring some relief to him.

“The Free Cities”, you decide. “You aren’t the first Targaryen who flees King’s Landing to locate somewhere there. Essos is one of those who traditionally welcomes these Valyrian kind.”

Aemond chuckles, pleasantly surprised by your wit.

“We need little convincing, don’t we?”

“It is what you need most, my beloved. Some peace of mind and spirit will do you well.”

So the plan is architected. And the promised consolation shall come.

Yet, night arises and with it, demons that come to dispute over royal flesh. Aemond is tormented by his nightmares. As he watches you sleep peacefully, he envies your serenity.

Part of him riots against the idea of being with you. Running away sounds coward-ish and the ilidic paradise is an idea fit for poets and story tellers.

Reclining against the wind, naked, he is vulnerable and to feel it only makes him feel irc about it.

It’s when you notice the bed getting colder. As you turn around, you see you are alone once again. You almost panic at the idea of him leaving you, but this is wiped out of your mind when seeing the state he is.

“Aemond”, you don’t mind the clothes. “Come to bed”, you rest your chin over his shoulder. Suddenly you notice how tall he is.

He tries to avoid your gaze, but it is difficult to ignore you when you recline your body, so warmt, against his. In a stark contrast of fire and cold, he is like an ice berg to you.

“Please”, you ask him.

Aemond turns at you at last and acquiesces with your request. Silently he follows you, but he doesn’t sleep straight away.

“You are worthy of love”, you tell him, cuddling him. “You cannot ignore the wounds that hurt you.”

“I fear I am incapable of healing”, Aemond whispers, a tear rolling down his cheek. “How can you conceive the idea of us together, Y/N?”

“You can be saved.”

He snorts, eyes closing as he slowly drifts to sleep under your tenderness.

“Maybe I do not want to be saved.”

“To be saved or to be redeemed. Is there any difference? Sleep my life. The night may be long and full of terrors, but light always comes to win over it.”

You’d think Aemond had fallen asleep as you take the blankets and cover yourselves, but as you too lie down, your hear him say:

“I love you, Y/N.”

You smile warmly because this is the first time he admits it out loud. Wiping away your happy tears, you lean to kiss his forehead.

“I love you too, Aemond Targaryen.”

Indeed, funny as it is, you are now officially part of the House Targaryen. Daeron and Helaena had been the only witnesses of the ceremony that made you officially Lord Aemond’s wife.

“Welcome to our family”, greets Daeron. “Just hope one does not notice the mess we are.”

“Oh, nothing too different of my own family, my lord.”

“Lord?”, Daeron scoffs. “We are family now, sister. There is little need to use formalities.”

Aemond smiles quietly when spotting a blush turning your cheeks into crimson. And speaking of informalities, Helaena welcomes you in her own way. To a general surprise, she in fact hugs you close before saying:

“Never forget. A king will come soon. To conquer all. The line must carry on.”

And then she takes Daeron away, leaving you baffled.

“What did she say?”, asks Aemond, curious.

“I’m afraid this time I didn’t understand what she meant, husband.”

“Well”, he shrugs his shoulders. “Not many of us do. Ready, my lady?”

You smile warmly and the sight makes Aemond content. Sun is rising in the horizon when he helps you mount old Vhagar.

And when she is ready to fly, you cling tight in your husband like a monkey.

“Oh my Gods!”

He laughs away. Never before he laughed so unpreocuppied, so carelessly, so free.

You know it. You feel it too. For when you look at him, you could tell how successfully you fixed him. Didn’t you?

***

• (V) Essos.

You may think you are brave for riding Vhagar, but braver so for mounting your husband. Now that you have enough trust to do so, you come to find out that is a lot better than in your wildest dreams.

“Oh Gods!”, and like any other day you are louder,a sound the servants are already used by now. “Aemond!”

It’s been three months since you and Aemond settled in Essos, and ever since the city not only welcomed you two properly like the royalty both of you are, but is also becoming the stage to Aemond’s ambitions—to which you turned a blind side to.

“So good, my wife!”, Aemond groans, pleased like always to see your boobs bouncing and how synced his body and yours are in one single move.

But domineering he is, so in a matter of seconds you are under his power again, a “victim” of his intense thrusts. And as he seeds you, it’s only then he comes to notice the changes of your body. Your breasts are bigger, you are curvier and your appetites… are different too.

As he collapses against your side, Aemond holds you close to him, though. Stroking your hair and helping to straighten it after messing you good, he smiles.

“I cannot believe myself when I recall the enormous quantity of years that took for us to get married.”

“You are slower than I’d assumed to be, husband”, you tease him, earning a few tickles.

“Life here isn’t as bad as it seems, though”, Aemond contemplates after kissing your forehead. “I think we can rebuild our life here in the manner of Westeros.”

You know there are certain ambitions that do not die, no matter the efforts in healing scars. It’s a side of his character that you’ve always accepted. Then you are reminded of Helaena’s prophecy and somehow you made your peace with it.

“Indeed, I…”

Oh no. Not that nauseous morning again! In a matter of seconds you are running to your privy quarters and throw all that you’ve ingested earlier the day… out.

When Aemond rushes after you, though, he doesn’t take too long to realize that an heir is coming. At last.

“My dearest wife”, he kneels after you. “Let me help you. The way you help me.”

For the first time in years he sees your vulnerability, your fragility. You try to conceal it, but he doesn’t allow you to shy away.

“Y/N… Do not be stubborn”, he helps you clean. “There is nothing wrong with it. Do you not realize what does this mean?”

When you give him a quizzical look, the prince chuckles.

“I cannot believe that I am the one to tell you… but you are carrying our child, my love.”

News that would come to change your lives…. But others too.

***

• Epilogue.

Three years later.

You are giving birth again—the price you pay for delighting yourself by engaging in marital affairs with your handsome prince—when news come from King’s Landing.

Aemond is holding baby Rhaella in his arms all the whilst watching his son, Aegon, practice sword ship. He’s very prideful over his eldest son taking so much after him where brain matters are concerned—and abilities too—, but the sweet temper is something the boy takes after you.

“See, Rhae? Your brother is going to protect you just fine”, Aemond smiles before kissing his daughter’s head.

She giggles, a sight he adores to behold, but every smile dies when a messenger dressed in green comes in.

“My lord Prince”, this young lad greets Aemond, sounding somewhat nervous.

“Who is this? Sent by mother, I presume.”

The lad delivers him an old parchment. When opening it carefully, the prince frowns.

“What does this mean?”

“There is war in Westeros, Ser. And King Aegon has summoned you.”

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #house targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #team green #lord Aemond #aemond one eyed #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fic #prince aemond targaryen #Prince Aemond

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 years ago

Text

sapphire-hearted (part one)

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

The start to an angst-ridden little story, wherein the reader, Aemond's dearest friend (and clandestine love) learns of his apparent new paramour, Alys.

themes/warnings: angst, jealousy, fwb type situation, Aemond is kind of a clueless twat

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

edit(!): this oneshot seems to have taken a life of its own, like most of my fics, quite unexpectedly! I've changed the title from (sapphire) blue heart to sapphire-hearted, and part two will be out in a few hours! is out now!

"Why do you not look at me?" He gently pries your face towards him with his free hand, as you both lie naked on his sheets, his arm wrapped around you. "Have I done something wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing, Aem." You shake your head, letting his hand fall.

He takes one deep breath. He knows you like the back of his hand; he knows something isn't right.

"You're not fooling me, gevie." Beautiful, he calls you, as you sit up and bring your knees to your chest. You feel the cold air on your back, and then, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin.

Gevie. You wonder if he calls Alys the same. After their rumoured trysts. After she is seen leaving his bedchambers. Has she lain among these very sheets herself, where you are now?

You and Aemond were not together, no. You were not betrothed. Your House was too lowly to allow you to wed a Targaryen prince. But he had said he was yours. Just yours.

How has that changed so quickly?

"Speak to me," he pleads. He sits up behind you, kissing the back of your neck. "You know I have my methods of making you do so. Shall I employ them?" You can hear the amusement in his voice, the assuredness.

You thought you loved it more than anything, but now it feels like some cruel jest.

You turn to face him directly. "Is she better than me?"

He leans back, fully aware of who you mean. "Hmm," he purses his lips. "Jealousy does not become you, it seems."

"I'm glad you think me amusing." You bite back, looking away.

"This is amusing. How can you be jealous of her?"

You aren't sure what to make of that question. Is he mocking you, and the justification of your envy? Who are you to him anyway? Just a friend, no?

"Aemond. I thought... that we..."

"You know what we are. How we are. Isn't it enough?"

"Not if I have to share you with some witch!" you rise from his bed, and wrap your cloak around yourself. "I've turned down the finest suitors, simply because you wished me to. Simply because you were jealous. Don't you think you owe me the same courtesy?"

His voice is colder when he responds, "What do you think I am doing with Alys, hmm? Do you think I enjoy having her grace my bedchambers, and have her clawing at me?" He stands too, towering over your stature. "I have never wanted to bed anyone other than you. What I am doing with her... what I have to do with her... It is for the good of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Spare me, Aemond." You swat his hands away, when he reaches for your arms. "Don't..." He tries again, much quicker this time, and he holds your forearms tightly against his bare chest.

"She has magic." There is a wild look in his eye when he says this, and it makes you uneasy. "She sees things, Alys. She can predict what the enemy's next move is, where they'll be. What I am doing with her, lying with her, is but a small price to pay."

"What if you don't lie with her? You don't have to..."

"She asks me to."

"You don't have to. You're the prince! She answers to you, not the other way around."

"I refused, of course, in the beginning." He holds your face gently in his hands now, trying to make you understand. "That did no good. She gave me nothing. I could have her tortured. But this will only serve to distance her even more from our cause."

"So, to get what you want... to hear her incredible visions and benefit from her magical spells, you have to fuck her? Very astute of you, Aemond."

"Careful, my love." He tilts his head, trying to work through your anger.

You use your palms on his chest to push him away. He only stumbles a little, the faint sound of his low growl reaching your ears.

"You know what I'll do?" you threaten, your cloak falling back to the floor as you wave your arms dramatically. "The next dashing Lord that asks for my hand, I'll take. It could be Lord Manderly's son or... Lord Beesbury's eldest boy has made an offer, too. I'll wed him, whoever he is, why not? Even if I don't love him, it will only be a small price to pay," you sneer, mirroring his words from before. "It is what's expected of me, after all. It is for the good of my House."

Aemond's jaw clenches in his rage. "Then I shall have him captured and quartered to pieces in the dungeons before he can even get the chance to - "

"No," you shake your head at his nonsense. "No, you would not. You would not do something like that to me. How would that be fair? You and I, we'll never marry. As it stands, you'd sooner wed your witch than I."

"I would marry you in a heartbeat." He moves closer now, desperation creeping in his voice. His lips meet yours in a haste. Wet and demanding. When you turn your head, he only continues kissing the side of your face. Then he stops, pressing his forehead to your temple. "You know this, my love. You have to know this. Alys is nothing compared to you. Without her, I might lose the war. But without you... I lose myself."

You nearly cave in at that, as you always do when it comes to Aemond. But now, you remind yourself to stand your ground.

"Then prove it to me," you whisper, and a stray tear falls down your cheek. "Do as I ask. Stop being with her."

Seconds pass. Aemond's mind races at the possible outcomes. His heart aches at the sight of your sadness, but he feels compelled to think of other things too.

The war. Defeating the Blacks. Easily gaining the upper hand through dark magic.

At the end of it all - and if he does what he does, it should all end very soon - he will still have you. He's sure of it.

You will always come back to him. You will understand.

"I cannot," he says, his words striking through your heart.

You feel numb all over, but you force yourself to step away from him, and hurriedly put your dress back on.

"My love, please..." He watches helplessly as you tie the strings of your skirts, preparing to leave.

"My prince," you cursty, when you've managed to put yourself together. "I am not certain when, but you're invited to honour us with your presence at my coming marriage ceremony."

"I'd sooner command Vhagar to burn Westeros to ashes."

"You mean, you'd sooner bask in the pleasures that only your witch can offer?" you laugh mirthlessly. "Of course."

You start walking away, determinedly. Ice has flooded your veins and your heart, turning you cold and blue. But you press on. The pain will have to wait for later.

"You'll come back to me," he calls after you.

"Oh, I wouldn't hold my breath, if I were you."

You slam the door behind you.

Angst!!! We all need this sometimes. I swear it riles me up so good, I almost wonder if something's messed up with my romantic ideals ....

.... who are we kidding? Of course there is. Because I would marry our one-eyed Vhagar-riding war terrorist in a heartbeat.

taglist open for an upcoming part!

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen one shot #house of the dragon

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two-white-butterflies · 2 years ago

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my way, back home | aem. targaryen

Description: Aemond wants to build a big family with you. One that rivals his great-grandfather's. (the dance never happens)

Rating: Teen [fluff]

It was uncommon to see a wedding happen because of love. It was rare to see a wedding happen because of love and political advancement. You were lucky to have the latter.

It was a hot day in Kingslanding - like the many days before. Of course, your sons took it as a reason to go to Dragonstone - where the shores and the heat were more forgiving.

"At this rate we'll need to create a beach just for our children," Aemond mused, allowing the waves to kiss his ankles. "If there is enough coin in our coffers, maybe." you replied as he leaned down to peck your lips. "I always find a way," he hummed, sitting on the sand.

His hands trail down to your swollen belly. A babe of five moons, another price or princess for the realm to adore. "What do you think it'll be?" you inquired - staring deep into his eye. "A loved child," he replied - not caring for the gender. He was a relief to have in this world - a world where girls were viewed as liability.

You turned to the side - eyes narrowing to see the figure of your sons and their handmaidens properly. "Not too far, my darlings." you gently warn, seeing that the water was beginning to reach Rhaenar's shoulders. "Yes, mother." your youngest, Aenar, responded.

Aemond kept his hand on your stomach, rubbing slow circles while he watched his sons play in the waters. A small thought runs through his head - a plan and a vision of his life.

"You have been far too silent, my husband." you pointed out, using the cloth to dry your hair properly. "I have been thinking," he professed - taking a lazy sip of his dornish wine.

"Thinking about what?" you raised an eyebrow.

The sides of his lips turned upwards - slowly leaning towards a smile. He takes another sip of his wine, allowing the silence to permeate throughout the atmosphere. "I want more children with you," he stated and a playful laugh escapes your mouth.

"This one is yet to escape my womb, and you already plan to have a fifth?" your eyebrows bumped into each other. The pain of childbirth was great - but the joy of having a babe in your arms, it was greater. "And a sixth, a seventh and an eighth." he professed - already having a few names in mind for his heirs.

"Is this the wine speaking, or does the plan of replacing King Jaehaerys' records lay rampant in your head?" you accused, taking a step forward and sitting on his lap. His hands inch towards your belly again - seeing that it was it's perfect place. "I always intended it to be that way," he whispered - burying his face on your neck.

"But we won't be like them, you know that - right?" you frown, remembering his children's cruel fates. "We'll be better." you add with certainty. Your daughters will not be subjected to cruel matches - and your sons will be raised with vigor and love. Your daughters will know that their beauty increases their worth - and that it doesn't diminish their intellect. Your sons will know that they are not only meant to be princes and heirs - they can venture far.

"Yes," he answered, removing his hand from your belly - reaching for your jaw and merging your lips together.

@bellstwd @nyctophilic0vitnir @fan-goddess @mizfortuna @watercolorskyy

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beneathashadytree · 11 months ago

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SLOW MORNINGS - NANAMI KENTO X READER

Warnings : none I think, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : domestic fluff for daysss <3

Word count : 1.2K words

Additional notes : This was fully inspired by this gorgeous, gorgeous Nanami art I saw on X by @3-aem. I dedicate this piece to my bff Mona (she’s the best ever btw!!!) and to the man himself whom I miss an awful lot.

Tip jar!

Masterlist

Most weekdays, they’d wake up to a gentle kiss to their forehead, almost fleeting. With bleary eyes and still feeling quite groggy, they’d barely make out the figure of their husband, buttoning up his suit jacket as he made his way out of their bedroom. He’d glance back, and the corner of his lips would curl upward ever-so-slightly at seeing them lazily paw at the sheets to pull themself up.

With a quiet, “Good morning. I’ve made you breakfast,” Nanami would quickly set their heart pounding so early in the morning. It didn’t matter how late he was running (he almost never was, anyways, being such a man of routine), he’d always make sure to make enough breakfast for the two of them. It wasn’t anything too fancy by any means, but they were both content by the gesture itself more than anything.

When they’d first started living together, he’d been hesitant to wake them up every morning, but their insistence to see him off to work, and his desire to see them blink up at him so endearingly, won out in the end. And so that’s how their routine was born—out of a gentle love and the little habits that came with it and they built their lives upon.

When their body slowly dragged itself out of a deep slumber and they began to rub the sleep out of their eyes, it took them a bit to register the sun filtering through the slits between the airy bedroom curtains. They danced in the slight breeze, teasing pretty little shadows across the dresser and causing the mirror by the end of the bed to glint a little with each shift of the fabric.

Ah, it must be late morning.

With just a little more difficulty than usual (after all, they had to pay a hefty price for getting to sleep in), they began to shuffle out of bed and across the hall, where they could smell the bittersweetness of roasted coffee beans and fresh cream. It lingered in the air longer than it did on most days, and that was how they knew that their husband had—finally—the time to indulge in his morning cup.

It wasn’t a half-bad sight to wake up to, really. There he was, leaning against the couch’s armrest while his other arm balanced his slumped head, a slightly-weathered book in hand. It seemed that leisurely position was all he could do to stop himself from dozing off, the week’s exhaustion clearly leaving him barely able to stay awake regardless of how engrossed he was by what he was reading.

Though Nanami wore nothing remarkable—just his favorite t-shirt and pants, a little crumpled from the position he sat in—he somehow still managed to look like the picture of elegance. Perhaps it was the doing of the thin-framed glasses perched on his nose; something they’d long egged him on to get prescribed, after having caught him squinting at small-lettered fonts one too many times.

All half-consciousness considered, he seemed to be pretty immersed in what he was reading, and the slow turn of a page despite them having walked in meant that he hadn’t even noticed their presence. A small amused smile came on their face, and they pattered up to him, the cold of the floorboards a little sobering.

“I don’t know how you manage to do it.” Their voice sounded a little scratchy, but that was fine. A slight flicker of his hazel eyes was the only indication that he’d been startled by them, before his face melted into an expression of contentment. His freckles stretched across his fair skin, and with each wrinkle that marked a year of growth, they think they fell in love a little deeper.

They suspected that part of the reason why they found the sight of him so mesmerizing was the knowledge that they get to see him grow old beside them. A fanciful thought, admittedly, but no less true.

“Do what?” Nanami softly asked, shifting his position and setting his legs down on the floor. He didn’t even have to do more than just leave his arms open a little for them to take the invitation and crawl into his lap.

As soon as they settled with their back against the armrest, his free hand began to absentmindedly stroke at their calf, while the other set the book down (a Victorian classic he was currently enamored with, though he regretfully had little time for) in place of the cast aside—and fully drained—coffee cup. Every single object he touched, he seemed to breathe a little life into.

Sometimes, it felt like that was the case with the entire house. Sometimes, it even felt like he did that to themself too.

“Not sleep in on weekends. How you still wake up at a decent hour is beyond me.” They shook their head in mild disbelief, reaching out to push back a strand of blond hair that fell in front of his face. He looked so much more at ease like this; hair just tucked back and not styled to perfection as it usually was. Hell; even his features had softened and the sharp lines and edges of his face had dulled into the familiar warmth they liked to feel underneath their fingertips.

He hummed, partially to voice agreement and partially as he reveled in their touch grazing his cheek. “Force of habit.” It was only when he began to lean in with eyes brimming with affection that they had to put a finger to his lips, causing him to grunt.

“Haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

Nanami huffed out a half-laugh, gently pushing their finger down. “Doesn’t really matter,” he mumbled against their lips, before stealing a short but no less sweet kiss. Still, he gave into their wishes, choosing a chaste peck over the slow, all-consuming kisses he liked to indulge them in. He could never say no to whatever they wished.

A quick glance at the empty table brought another thing to their attention. “You haven’t had breakfast yet?”

“No. I thought I’d wait and cook breakfast with you.” His deft strokes against the skin of their leg were almost as distracting as his silken voice. “We haven’t done that in a while.”

“Surely you haven’t missed the mess I end up making,” they said, arching an eyebrow at him, to which he chuckled.

“Not the clean-up part, no,” he agrees, a smile dancing across his lips. “But messy as your methods might be, it’s more efficient that way.”

“And more fun.” They began to begrudgingly slide off his lap, knowing that they would have to get up sooner or later for food before they could laze around for the rest of the day.

“And more fun,” their husband agreed, fondness lacing his softly-spoken words as crow’s feet appeared by his eyes. Like it was merely second nature to him, a large palm rested against the small of their back as they walked to the kitchen, marking the start of a slow, laidback day at home. “Eggs benedict and fruits?”

“Hmm… I’m feeling more like an omelette and sausages today, honestly…”

Taglist : @blondeboyfriend @mrsgiovanna @sherlockscumslut @the-foreigner @thispersoniscrazy @em-3456 @angry-and-yandere @avvsfs

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royallisgold · 2 years ago

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Gold as an Investment

Before jumping on the gold bandwagon, let us first put a damper on the enthusiasm around gold and examine some reasons why investing in gold poses some fundamental issues.

The main problem with gold is that, unlike other commodities such as oil or wheat, it does not get used up or consumed. Once gold is mined, it stays in the world. A barrel of oil, on the other hand, is turned into gas and other products that are expended in your car's gas tank or an airplane's jet engines. Grains are consumed in the food we and our animals eat. Gold, on the other hand, is turned into jewelry, used in art, stored in ingots locked away in vaults, and put to a variety of other uses. Regardless of gold's final destination, its chemical composition is such that the precious metal cannot be used up—it is permanent.

Because of this, the supply-demand argument that can be made for commodities such as oil and grains doesn't hold so well for gold. In other words, the supply will only go up over time, even if demand for the metal dries up.

History Overcomes the Supply Problem

Like no other commodity, gold has held the fascination of human societies since the beginning of recorded time. Empires and kingdoms were built and destroyed over gold and mercantilism. As societies developed, gold was universally accepted as a satisfactory form of payment. In short, history has given gold a power surpassing that of any other commodity on the planet, and that power has never really disappeared.

The U.S. monetary system was based on a gold standard until the 1970s.

Proponents of this standard argue that such a monetary system effectively controls the expansion of credit and enforces discipline on lending standards because the amount of credit created is linked to a physical supply of gold. It's hard to argue with that line of thinking after nearly three decades of a credit explosion in the U.S. led to the financial meltdown in the fall of 2008.

From a fundamental perspective, gold is generally viewed as a favorable hedge against inflation. Gold functions as a good store of value against a declining currency.

Investing in Gold

The easiest way to gain exposure to gold is through the stock market, via which you can invest in the shares of gold-mining companies. Investing in gold bullion won't offer the leverage you would get from investing in gold-mining stocks. As the price of gold goes up, miners' higher profit margins can boost earnings exponentially. Suppose a mining company has a profit margin of $200 when the price of gold is $1,000. If the price rises 10%, to $1,100 an ounce, the operating margin of the gold miner goes up to $300—a 50% increase.

Of course, there are other issues to consider with gold-mining stocks, namely political risk (because many operate in developing nations) and the difficulty of maintaining gold production levels.

The most common way to invest in physical gold is through an exchange-traded fund (ETF) like the SPDR Gold Shares (GLD), which simply holds gold.

When investing in ETFs, pay attention to net asset value (NAV), as the purchase price can at times exceed NAV by a wide margin, especially when the markets are optimistic.

A list of gold-mining companies includes Barrick Gold Corp. (ABX.TO), Newmont Corp. (NEM), and Agnico Eagle Mines Ltd. (AEM), among others. Passive investors who want great exposure to the gold miners may consider the VanEck Vectors Gold Miners ETF (GDX), which includes investments in all the major miners.

Alternative Investment Considerations

While gold is a good bet on inflation, it's certainly not the only one. Commodities in general benefit from inflation because they have pricing power. The key consideration when investing in commodity-based businesses is to go for low-cost producers. More conservative investors would also do well to consider inflation-protected securities like Treasury Inflation-Protected Securities, or TIPS. The one thing you don't want is to be sitting idle—in cash, thinking you're doing well—while inflation is eroding the value of your dollar.

Gold Price Performance

The price of gold depends on a complex array of factors. Because gold is priced in dollars, the value of the U.S. currency can have a significant impact on the performance of the precious metal. A strong dollar makes gold more expensive for buyers in other countries, potentially leading to lower gold prices. On the other hand, a weaker dollar makes gold more affordable for international purchasers and may bring increased prices. Since gold is seen as a hedge against inflation, the decline in value of fiat currencies and the market's expectations surrounding inflation can also affect gold prices.

These factors seem to be evident in the yellow metal's recent price history. Throughout most of 2022, despite soaring levels of inflation, gold prices actually dipped, likely driven lower by sustained strength in the dollar against other currencies. More recently, with inflation remaining stubbornly persistent despite the Federal Reserve's attempts to bring it under control, gold prices have recovered to more than $1,875 per ounce in January 2023, from around $1,656 per ounce in September 2022.

What's to Come

You can't ignore the effect of human psychology when it comes to investing in gold. The precious metal has always been a go-to investment during times of fear and uncertainty, which tend to go hand in hand with economic recessions and depressions.

In the articles that follow, we examine how and why gold gets its fundamental value, how it's used as a form of money, and which factors subsequently influence its price on the market—from miners to speculators to central banks. We will look at the fundamentals of trading gold and what types of securities or instruments are commonly used to gain exposure to gold investments. We'll look at using gold both as a long-term component of a diversified portfolio and as a short-term day trading asset. We'll look at the benefits of gold but also examine the risks and pitfalls and see if it lives up to the "gold standard."

What Makes Gold Valuable?

Aside from its literal shine and the symbolic relationship with wealth that has lasted throughout human civilization, gold plays an important role as a store of value and a medium of exchange. Unlike other commodities, gold does not get used up or consumed, imbuing the precious metal with a sense of everlasting value. Gold serves as a hedge against the declining value of currencies through inflation, which leads many investors to consider gold an alternative asset and a way of safeguarding their wealth.

What Is the Gold Standard?

Under the gold standard, the value of a currency is pegged to the value of gold. The Bretton Woods Agreement, which formed the framework for global currency markets starting at the end of World War II, established that the U.S. dollar was convertible to gold at a fixed rate of $35 per ounce, with other world currencies valued in relation to the dollar.

President Nixon ended the convertibility of the dollar to gold in 1971, signaling the end of the gold standard.

How Can I Invest in Gold?

There is a wide variety of options for investors who want exposure to gold. It's possible to invest directly in gold bullion, although the costs of storing and insuring physical gold can be significant. Investors also can turn to exchange-traded funds (ETFs) that hold the precious metal or purchase shares of mining companies whose stock prices are correlated to gold's price performance.

The Bottom Line

Gold has held a special place in the human imagination since the beginning of recorded time. From an investment perspective, gold is attractive because of its potential to remain strong in difficult financial environments and to hedge against inflationary declines in the value of fiat currencies.

Although the U.S. dollar and other world currencies are no longer pegged to gold—as was the case when many countries operated under the gold standard—the precious metal continues to play an important role in the global economy.

ARTICLE SOURCES

PART OF

Investing in Gold

Investing in Gold1 of 30

Why Gold Matters: Everything You Need to Know2 of 30

Why Has Gold Always Been Valuable?3 of 30

What Drives the Price of Gold?4 of 30

What Moves Gold Prices?5 of 30

Gold Standard: Definition, How It Works, and Example6 of 30

Gold: The Other Currency7 of 30

How to Invest in Gold: An Investor’s Guide8 of 30

Gold Bug9 of 30

8 Good Reasons to Own Gold10 of 30

4 Ways to Buy Gold11 of 30

Does It Still Pay to Invest in Gold?12 of 30

The Best Ways To Invest In Gold Without Holding It13 of 30

How to Buy Gold Bars14 of 30

The Best Strategy for Gold Investors15 of 30

The Most Affordable Way to Buy Gold: Physical Gold or ETFs?16 of 30

The Better Inflation Hedge: Gold or Treasuries?17 of 30

Has Gold Been a Good Investment Over the Long Term?18 of 30

Trading the Gold-Silver Ratio19 of 30

How to Trade Gold in 4 Steps20 of 30

Gold Option21 of 30

How To Buy Gold Options22 of 30

Using Technical Analysis in Gold Miner ETFs23 of 30

Day-Trading Gold ETFs: Top Tips24 of 30

Gold ETFs vs. Gold Futures: What's the Difference?25 of 30

Should You Get a Gold IRA?26 of 30

How to Buy Gold With Your 401(k)27 of 30

Gold IRA Definition28 of 30

When and Why Do Gold Prices Plummet?29 of 30

The Effect of Fed Funds Rate Hikes on Gold30 of 30

Business man trader investor analyst using mobile phone app and laptop

INVESTING

How to Invest in Commodities

Pile of Gold Bars

GOLD

Does It Still Pay to Invest in Gold?

Gold Bars

STOCKS & BOND NEWS

Top Gold Stocks for Q2 2023

GOLD

The Better Inflation Hedge: Gold or Treasuries?

GOLD

The Best Ways To Invest In Gold Without Holding It

Gold bars are placed on United States banknote

INVESTING

How to Invest in Gold and Silver

Related Terms

Gold IRA Definition

A gold IRA is a retirement investment vehicle used by individuals who hold gold bullion, coins, or other approved precious metals. more

Troy Ounce: Definition, History, and Conversion Table

A troy ounce is a unit of measurement for precious metal weight that dates to the Middle Ages. One troy ounce is equal to 31.10 grams. more

Gold Bug

A “gold bug” is somebody who is especially bullish on gold. more

Dollar Bear

A dollar bear is an investor who is pessimistic, or "bearish," about the prospects of the U.S. dollar (USD). They are the opposite of a dollar bull. more

Gold Standard: Definition, How It Works, and Example

The gold standard is a system in which a country's government allows its currency to be freely converted into fixed amounts of gold. more

Precious Metals: Definition, How to Invest, and Example

Precious metals are rare metals that have a high economic value, such as gold, silver, and platinum.

Invest with us today with Royallis Gold.

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ajpandey1 · 2 years ago

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Amazon Web Service & Adobe Experience Manager:- A Journey together (Part-1)

In the world of digital marketing today, providing a quick, secure, and seamless experience is crucial. A quicker time to market might be a differentiation, and it is crucial to reach a larger audience across all devices. Businesses are relying on cloud-based solutions to increase corporate agility, seize new opportunities, and cut costs.

Managing your marketing content and assets is simple with AEM. There are many advantages to using AWS to run AEM, including improved business agility, better flexibility, and lower expenses.

AEM & AWS a Gift for you:-

We knows about AEM as market leader in the Digital marketing but AWS is having answer for almost all the Architectural concerns like global capacity, security, reliability, fault tolerance, programmability, and usability.

So now AEM become more powerful with the power of AWS and gaining more popularity than the on-premises infrastructure.

Limitless Capacity

This combination gives full freedom to scale all AEM environments speedily in cost effective manner, addition is now more easy, In peak traffic volume where requests are very huge or unknown then AEM instance need more power or scaling . Here friend AWS come in to picture for rescue as the on-demand feature allows to scale all workloads. In holiday season, sporting events and sale events like thanks giving etc. AWS is holding hand of AEM and say

"Hey don't worry I am here for you, i will not left you alone in these peak scenario"

When AEM require upgrade but worried about other things like downtime backup etc then also AWS as friend come and support greatly with its cloud capability. It streamlines upgrades and deployments of AEM.

Now it become easy task with AWS. Parallel environment is cake walk now, so migration and testing is much easier without thinking of the infrastructure difficulties.

Performance testing from the QA is much easier without disturbing production. It can be done in AEM production-like environment. Performing the actual production upgrade itself can then be as simple as the change of a domain name system (DNS) entry.

Sky is no limit for AEM with AWS features and Capabilities :

As a market leader AEM is used by customers as the foundation of their digital marketing platform. AWS and AEM can provide a lot of third part integration opportunity such as blogs, and providing additional tools for supporting mobile delivery, analytics, and big data management.

A new feature can be generated with AWS & AEM combination.Many services like Amazon Simple Notification Service (Amazon SNS), Amazon Simple Queue Service (Amazon SQS), and AWS Lambda, AEM functionality easily integrated with third-party APIs in a decoupled manner. AWS can provide a clean, manageable, and auditable approach to decoupled integration with back-end systems such as CRM and e-commerce systems.

24*7 Global Availability of AEM with Buddy AWS

A more Agile and Innovative requirement can fulfill by cloud transition. How innovation and how much Agile, in previous on-premise environment for any innovation need new infrastructure and more capital expenditure (Capex). Here again the golden combination of AWS and AEM will make things easier and agile. The AWS Cloud model gives you the agility to quickly spin up new instances on AWS, and the ability to try out new services without investing in large and upfront costs. One of the feature of AWS pay-for-what-you-use pricing model is become savior in these activities.

AWS Global Infrastructure available across 24 geographic regions around the globe, so enabling customers to deploy on a global footprint quickly and easily.

Major Security concerns handled with High-Compliance

Security is the major concern about any AEM website. AWS gifts these control and confidence for secure environment. AWS ensure that you will gain the control and confidence with safety and flexibility in secure cloud computing environment . AWS, provides way to improve ability to meet core security and compliance requirements with a comprehensive set of services and features. Compliance certifications and attestations are assessed by a third-party, independent auditor.

Running AEM on AWS provides customers with the benefits of leveraging the compliance and security capabilities of AWS, along with the ability to monitor and audit access to AEM using AWS Security, Identity and Compliance services.

Continue in part-2.......

#aem #Cloud #AWS #WCM #Adobe #PaaS #IaaS #Security #Infrastructure Arch #Scalability #Compliance

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yonderh2 · 2 months ago

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Top 10 Benefits of Setting up Green Hydrogen Plants in India

As the planet transitions to cleaner fuel, green hydrogen has appeared as a game-changing answer for sustainable growth. This inventive fuel source offers vast possibilities in India to decrease carbon emissions, improve energy security, and push monetary gain. With the government's impulse toward a hydrogen economy, advancing green hydrogen companies in India is key to attaining national and global sustainability objectives.

Let's dig into the top 10 advantages of setting up green hydrogen plants in India and how they contribute to a greener tomorrow.

Decreasing Carbon Emissions

Renewable energy sources like solar and wind power help produce Green hydrogen, ensuring zero carbon emissions. By substituting fossil fuels in industries and transport, green hydrogen significantly decreases greenhouse gases, aligning with India's adherence to net-zero emissions by 2070.

2. Enhancing Energy Security

Scaling up domestic green hydrogen production can mitigate India's dependency on imported oil and gas. A robust green hydrogen plant network reduces reliance on international energy markets, ensuring the country's stable and secure energy future.

3. Powering Industrial Decarbonization

Industries that require absorption, such as steel, cement, and chemicals, can transition to cleaner functions by utilizing green hydrogen as a fuel and feedstock. This approach decreases their environmental impression and aligns with international sustainability benchmarks.

4. Promoting Renewable Energy Integration

Green hydrogen production relies on renewable energy sources, providing an avenue to store surplus energy generated by solar and wind farms. Green hydrogen companies in India support grid stability and optimize renewable energy usage.

5. Advancing Technological Innovation

Setting up green hydrogen plants fosters innovation in energy technologies. Companies like Yonder, with expertise in electrolyser power conversion solutions, play a crucial role in developing efficient and scalable hydrogen production systems. These advancements position India as a global leader in clean energy technology.

6. Driving Economic Growth and Job Creation

Establishing green hydrogen plants stimulates economic activity, creating manufacturing, installation, maintenance, and research jobs. This growth supports local communities and drives India's transition to a green economy.

7. Supporting Global Climate Goals

India's emphasis on green hydrogen aligns with global environmental deals like the Paris Accord. India contributes to international measures to lower carbon emissions and battle climate change by embracing hydrogen-based solutions.

8. Decarbonizing Transportation

Green hydrogen is a good alternative to fossil fuels in heavy transportation, including trucks, buses, and trains. Hydrogen-powered fuel cells guarantee extended ranges and immediate refueling, making them perfect for decarbonizing logistics.

9. Strengthening Industrial Resilience

Green hydrogen plants promote energy diversification, reducing vulnerabilities to energy price fluctuations and geopolitical risks. A locally produced hydrogen supply bolsters industrial resilience and ensures uninterrupted operations.

10. Extending Exports and International Partnerships

As the international market for green hydrogen increases, India can become a prominent exporter of this clean fuel. Establishing green hydrogen plants opens doors to international collaborations and trade, enhancing India's position in the global energy market.

Yonder: Driving Innovation in Green Hydrogen

At the forefront of India's green hydrogen revolution, Yonder leverages its legacy expertise as part of the Ador Group to deliver cutting-edge solutions for hydrogen generation.

What Sets Yonder Apart?

Advanced Power Conversion Units: Yonder's solutions integrate Alkaline, PEM, SOEC, and AEM electrolysers with renewable power sources, ensuring maximum efficiency and reliability.

Energy Optimization: From thyristor and diode-based rectifiers to modern IGBT and SiC-based converters, Yonder emphasizes low power consumption and minimal harmonic distortion.

In-House Transformer Expertise: Yonder's end-to-end power conversion capabilities meet the evolving demands of hydrogen production.

Summing Up

Setting up green hydrogen plants in India is not merely an environmental endeavor; it's a transformative action toward a sustainable, energy-secure future. By lowering emissions, encouraging innovation, and helping economic growth, green hydrogen is poised to revolutionize the energy terrain.

With companies like Yonderdriving innovation, India is well-positioned to lead the global hydrogen economy. Whether it's powering industries or supporting renewable energy integration, the benefits of green hydrogen are undeniable.

Ready to transform your energy future? Explore Yonder's innovative solutions and join the green hydrogen revolution today! Contact us at [email protected].

About the Author: Yonder, a division of the Ador Group, has been a leader in Power Electronics since 1908. Specializing in advanced Power Conversion Units for hydrogen generation, we integrate Alkaline, PEM, SOEC, and AEM electrolysers to ensure high efficiency and minimal power consumption. Headquartered in Mumbai with state-of-the-art facilities in Pune, Yonder is committed to global decarbonization. Our 500-MW manufacturing facility for hydrogen power sources is poised to deliver cutting-edge solutions that thrive in unique and demanding deployment contexts.

#GreenHydrogen #SustainableEnergy #HydrogenEconomy #CleanEnergySolutions

#greenhydrogen #sustainable energy #hydrogen production

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chemanalystdata · 5 months ago

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Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM) Rubber prices is a key material in the industrial and automotive sectors due to its superior performance characteristics, such as high resistance to heat, oxidation, and chemicals. The prices of AEM rubber have been subject to fluctuations influenced by various factors including raw material costs, supply chain dynamics, and market demand. As an advanced synthetic rubber, AEM offers exceptional durability and is increasingly being utilized in applications where standard rubber types may fail to meet performance requirements. This has contributed to a growing interest in the material, thereby impacting its market price.

The price of AEM rubber is primarily driven by the cost of its raw materials, namely ethylene and acrylic acid. Fluctuations in the prices of these raw materials can significantly affect the overall cost of AEM rubber. For instance, changes in the availability of ethylene due to disruptions in the petrochemical industry or shifts in production capacities can lead to variations in AEM rubber prices. Additionally, the cost of acrylic acid, which is used to impart specific properties to the elastomer, can also contribute to price changes. Market trends in the petrochemical sector, therefore, play a crucial role in determining AEM rubber prices.

Get Real Time Prices for Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM) Rubber: https://www.chemanalyst.com/Pricing-data/ethylene-acrylic-elastomer-1211

Supply and demand dynamics also play a critical role in shaping AEM rubber prices. The increasing adoption of AEM rubber in high-performance applications, such as in automotive seals, gaskets, and hoses, has led to a rise in demand. This heightened demand, coupled with production constraints or delays, can drive up prices. Conversely, an oversupply of AEM rubber or a decrease in demand due to shifts in industry practices or economic downturns can result in lower prices. Manufacturers and suppliers must navigate these market forces to set competitive prices while maintaining profitability.

Global economic conditions have a significant impact on AEM rubber prices. Economic growth or recession can influence industrial activity and, consequently, the demand for AEM rubber. In times of economic expansion, increased industrial production and infrastructure development can drive up the demand for high-performance materials like AEM rubber, leading to higher prices. Conversely, economic slowdowns can reduce industrial activity and demand, causing prices to drop. Additionally, fluctuations in currency exchange rates can affect the cost of importing raw materials and exporting finished products, further influencing AEM rubber prices.

Technological advancements and innovations in production processes can also impact AEM rubber pricing. As manufacturers develop more efficient production techniques or alternative formulations, the cost of producing AEM rubber may decrease. These advancements can lead to more competitive pricing in the market. Conversely, the introduction of new, high-cost technologies or materials may increase production costs and, subsequently, the price of AEM rubber. Staying abreast of technological trends and adapting to new production methods is essential for companies to manage costs and pricing effectively.

Environmental regulations and sustainability considerations are increasingly influencing AEM rubber prices. The push for more sustainable and environmentally friendly production processes can lead to higher costs for compliance and implementation of green technologies. These additional costs may be passed on to consumers in the form of higher prices for AEM rubber products. On the other hand, companies that successfully integrate sustainable practices and achieve regulatory compliance may benefit from a competitive edge in the market, potentially influencing pricing strategies.

Market competition among AEM rubber producers can also affect pricing. A competitive market environment can lead to price wars, where manufacturers may lower prices to gain market share or respond to competitors' pricing strategies. This competition can drive innovation and efficiency but may also compress profit margins. Conversely, a less competitive market with fewer players may allow for more stable or higher prices. Companies must carefully balance competitive pricing with maintaining quality and profitability.

In summary, the pricing of Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM) rubber is influenced by a complex interplay of factors including raw material costs, supply and demand dynamics, global economic conditions, technological advancements, environmental regulations, and market competition. Each of these elements can contribute to fluctuations in AEM rubber prices, making it essential for industry stakeholders to stay informed and adapt to changing market conditions. As AEM rubber continues to play a vital role in various high-performance applications, understanding these factors is crucial for managing costs and making strategic decisions in the market.

Get Real Time Prices for Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM) Rubber: https://www.chemanalyst.com/Pricing-data/ethylene-acrylic-elastomer-1211

ChemAnalyst

GmbH - S-01, 2.floor, Subbelrather Straße,

15a Cologne, 50823, Germany

Call: +49-221-6505-8833

Email: [email protected]

Website: https://www.chemanalyst.com

#Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM)#Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM) Price #Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM) Prices

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namansharma0950 · 19 days ago

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エチレンアクリルエラストマー Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer（AEM）の価格動向：詳細なチャート、市場分析、将来の見通し

エチレンアクリルエラストマー (Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM) は、アクリルゴムまたは ACM (アクリルコポリマー) とも呼ばれ、耐熱性、耐油性、耐候性に優れていることで知られる合成ゴムの一種です。このため、特に自動車産業などの厳しい用途で重宝されています。自動車製造、耐熱性および耐油性を必要とする産業用途、その他の関連分野に携わる企業にとって、Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM の価格に影響を与える要因を理解することは非常に重要です。

エチレンアクリルエラストマー (Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM) の世界的な需要

Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM の世界的な需要は、主に次の用途によって推進されています。

自動車産業: これは最大の用途です。Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM は、高温や自動車用液体 (エンジンオイル、トランスミッションオイルなど) にさらされるシール、ガスケット、ホース、その他の部品に使用されます。高温のオイルに対する耐性が求められる用途では特に重要です。工業用途: 耐熱性と耐油性が重要なさまざまな工業用途で使用されます。これには以下が含まれます: 工業機械のホースとシールガスケットと O リング振動減衰その他の用途: その他の特殊な用途で少量使用されます。エチレンアクリルエラストマー (Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM) の種類

Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM にはさまざまな種類があり、モノマー組成と結果として生じる特性が異なり、価格に影響します:

エチレンとメチルアクリレートのコポリマー (EMA): 最も一般的なタイプです。エチレン、メチルアクリレート、および硬化部位モノマーのターポリマー: これらは硬化特性が向上し、多くの場合、高温性能が向上します。硬化部位モノマーは変化する可能性があり、特定の特性に影響します。エチレンアクリルエラストマー (Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM) の価格に影響を与える要因

リアルタイムでエチレンアクリルエラストマー (Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM) 価格: https://www.analystjapan.com/Pricing-data/ethylene-acrylic-elastomer-aem-145

Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM の価格には、いくつかの複雑な要因が影響します。

原材料コスト (エチレン、メチルアクリレート、硬化部位モノマー): Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM 製造の主な原材料は、エチレン、メチルアクリレート、および三元共重合体の場合は硬化部位モノマーです。これらの原材料の価格変動は、Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM の価格に直接的かつ重大な影響を及ぼします。

原油および天然ガス価格 (メチルアクリレートのエチレンおよびプロピレン/アクリロニトリルへの間接的な影響): エチレンは原油および天然ガスから生成されます。メチルアクリレートは通常、プロピレン (これも原油/天然ガスから生成) とアクリロニトリルから生成されます。したがって、原油および天然ガス価格の変動は、Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM の価格に間接的に影響します。アクリロニトリル価格（メチルアクリレートへの間接的影響）：アクリロニトリルはメチルアクリレート生産の主要原料であるため、アクリロニトリル価格の変動は Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM 価格に間接的に影響する可能性があります。エネルギーコスト（特に重合およびその他の化学処理）：Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM の生産には、大量のエネルギー入力を必要とする複雑な重合およびその他の化学処理が含まれます。エネルギーコスト、特に電気と天然ガスは、Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM の価格設定に影響します。製造コスト（重合および処理）：モノマーの重合および必要な処理手順（配合、仕上げなど）に関連するコストは、Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM の価格設定に影響します。需給動向：世界的な経済状況と自動車およびその他の関連セクターの活動は、Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM の需要に影響します。自動車生産（特に高温耐油性を必要とする用途）などの特定の業界動向も、Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM の需要に大きな影響を与える可能性があります。供給は、原材料の入手可能性、Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM 生産能力（比較的特殊）、工場のメンテナンス、および計画外の停止によって影響を受ける可能性があります。輸出入動向と貿易政策: 貿易政策、関税、輸出入割当は、特に輸入に依存している地域では、Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM の価格に大きな影響を与える可能性があります。為替レート: Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM とその原材料は国際的に取引されるため、為替レートの変動はさまざまな国の輸入価格と輸出価格に影響を与える可能性があります。地政学的要因: 石油およびガスの生産地域やその他の原材料の生産地域における政情不安、国際紛争、貿易紛争、制裁などの地政学的イベントは、サプライチェーンを混乱させ、Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM の価格に影響を与える可能性があります。地域的要因: 供給と需要、生産能力、エネルギーコスト、規制の地域差により、地域価格の変動が生じる可能性があります。 Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM のグレードと特性: Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM にはさまざまなグレードがあり、モノマー比、分子量、その他の特性が異なり、特定の用途に合わせて調整されています。これらの差異は価格に影響を与える可能性があります。三元共重合体は共重合体よりも高価であることが多いです。現在の市場動向と価格見通し

Ethylene Acrylic Elastomer (AEM 市場は、世界経済の成長、主要な最終用途セクター (特に自動車産業) の動向、原材料価格の変動、エラストマー配合の技術的進歩の影響を受けます。

ANALYST JAPAN

Call +1 (332) 258- 6602 1-2-3 Manpukuji, Asao-ku, Kawasaki 215-0004 Japan

Website: https://www.analystjapan.com

Email: [email protected]

#エチレンアクリルエラストマーの価格 #エチレンアクリルエラストマーのニュース #エチレンアクリルエラストマーの動向 #日本におけるエチレンアクリルエラストマー

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altdigitaltechnologies · 3 months ago

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AEM for Small Businesses: Worth the Expense?

In today's economy, every business wants its website to be professional and seamless while delivering a premium customer experience. For small businesses, this really is especially important in coming out as distinctive online in the absence of a commensurate price tag attached. AEM is identified as among the most adopted tools in the management of websites and digital experiences. But is AEM worth the investment for a small business?

In this blog, we will walk through the basics of AEM, explore its benefits for small businesses, and help you decide if it is the right choice.

What is Adobe Experience Manager (AEM)?

Adobe Experience Manager is a type of content management system that helps businesses produce, manage, and enrich their website and digital content. AEM goes beyond creating web pages but also supports the management of content for numerous channels from websites to mobile apps to social media.

Here you will come across some features that create consistent experiences, personalization of content, and lots of saving in time on the update of your content, through which your business will seem to be more professional and work smoothly.

Why Consider AEM for Your Small Business?

While you are in a small business, surely you'll raise a doubt whether AEM is really worth putting. Let's have a peek at some of the principal benefits through which AEM can turn out helpful to you-

Better Customer Experience

AEM is designed to help you build engaging and user-friendly websites. Its flexible design options make it easier to create a website that looks professional and easy to navigate, which keeps customers on your site longer.

Content Personalization

Small businesses can personalize content related to various types of customers with the AEM personalization tool. It may want to inform people looking for recommendations of a certain product that particular suggestions will be provided by AEM that might enhance the opportunity of a sale.

Multichannel Management

AEM helps manage content across multiple platforms. You can manage website content, mobile app updates, and even social media posts from a single dashboard. This saves time and can help maintain branding.

Time-Saving Automation

AEM also offers automation capabilities that can save small businesses time and resources. It can automate repetitive tasks, such as updating multiple pages at once or sending out content notifications.

Scalable Solution

AEM is a scalable solution in that it can help to grow its business. Small businesses hoping to grow to get the desired features to support those expectations, be it robust storage of their data, growing with rising amounts of digital tools and higher website traffic.

Advantages and Disadvantages for Small Business from AEM

A few things small business owners ought to consider on AEM though:

High Initial Cost

AEM is well-known for its premium pricing, and thus it may not fit the budget of every small business. For smaller budgets, a lighter CMS would be more suitable.

Complex Setup

AEM is known to have a little bit of a learning curve. Sometimes it requires technical expertise to set up and manage properly. If a business doesn't have an IT team, it may need some external support, which costs more.

Maintenance and Updates

AEM requires regular maintenance and updates. Even though Adobe supports AEM, the smaller company will have to spend extra money on technical assistance.

Alternatives of AEM for Small Business

In case AEM is slightly too expensive for a small business, several very manageable CMS that are very economical as well are given below:

WordPress: WordPress is most famous due to its ease of handling and the fact that it contains the maximum number of options related to plugins.

Wix: This is a perfect website builder based on drag-and-drop features, suitable for smaller businesses.

Squarespace: Best for image-intensive sites that require minimal technical work.

Each of these options offers advantages and is more scalable and affordable for small businesses.

Is AEM Worth It for Small Businesses?

For a small business that intensely focuses on the internet and growth, AEM will be a very helpful tool. Powerful content management, along with personalization options, provides a perfect method of enhancing customer experience while content management is made efficient, but one has to balance the pros with high initial costs and probable need for technical support.

Conclusion

If you are a small business and considering AEM, assess your budget, technical capabilities, and long-term digital goals. AEM could be a powerful investment for your business if it's ready for a high-performance CMS with growth potential.

Are you ready to take your digital experience to the next level? Have Alt Digital Technologies help implement AEM services or find the right CMS solution for business. Call us today to find out how we can build a free consultation that is a good fit for both your business needs and budget!

#aem services #adobe cx

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ewanmitchelll · 6 months ago

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Imagine you are Aemond and Helaena’s daughter.

Warnings: none; fluff all the way; alternative universe where… uh, Rhaenyra and Aegon are actually married and there is no civil war.

***

• Stage One: To Be a Toddler.

You are actually a merry child. One so vivid and full of joy, prompted to mischief. Unusually early, you like to go after your father. In one of these days, you are brought to Vhagar.

“Always restless, my dear Y/N”, says he when lifting you up and holding you on his arms. Aemond smiles in his own way at you, his lingering good eye admiring your chubby faces and wondering how could he have made a child so pure. When you smile back, he melts down completely. “One wonders why.”

“Vhagar”, you say lazily, still smiling.

Aemond chuckles quietly. He ruffles your long silver hair, lingering in his touch on your cheek and pinching it lightly.

“Vhagar, really? You really liked that old hag, didn’t you?”

The one eyed prince does not think there is a more adorable sound than when you burst into childish giggles.

“I love Vhagar. Daddy, she’s so big and… and…”, you grown, hating to forget the word you’ve learned recently.

Seeing how much you aim to please him, Aemond is patient.

“It’s a word uncle Aegon taught me!”, you try to justify yourself.

Aemond’s smile is quickly wiped out of his face. He furrows his eyebrows.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You need not to beg, papa. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

The prince chuckles, but you can tell he’s worried by the look on his face.

“Come now, what did dear uncle Aegon teach you, Y/N?”

“Weeeeell…”

“Y/N…”

You know you should not test longer. Aemond really hopes there is nothing to be anxious about, though.

“He said Vhagar is gross!”, you quickly put both of your chubby hands over your mouth and your eyes go wide. There’s a mix of amusement, mischief and concern altogether as you wait for some snap.

But Aemond is rarely snippy with you. The prince laughs quietly instead, his shoulders relaxing.

“If she is gross, why do you like her?”

Suddenly the prince remembers Helaena, when she loved bugs and other… bugs at a young age. The memory makes him smile fondly.

“Because she is legendary”, you explain as-a-matter-of-factly. “Besides, gross is not necessarily a bad thing. Can we fly now daddy? Pleeeeeease?”

He’s starstruck by your precocious wit. As he agrees to do what you requested, he remembers nostalgically how you came to this world.

***

Helaena always followed Aemond when they were younglings. Somehow the taste for books and studies set the two of them even closer. Before Aemond lost an eye, he came to discover that his dear sister had visions of some kind.

“It is a trait that comes from our ancestors. Magic comes with a price”, she told him then.

“What can I do to relief your burden, Helaena?”

It was when she touched his hand for the very first time. Aemond could recollect how right it felt when their fingers intertwined, hands awkwardly moulded. Sentiments that escaped the common scope looked obvious.

“Your friendship is sufficient, my dear Aem.”

But in due time it proved to be insufficient. Helaena was welcomed in Aemond’s chambers when she had nightmares. These consolations led to discoveries… which resulted in an early pregnancy.

Helaena was no more than six and ten summers; Aemond, five and ten, when you were conceived. Quickly, they married.

And just as quickly they moved to Summerhall.

***

When Aemond takes you to fly Vhagar, the one eyed prince notices you’ve been quiet. He takes a quick look wondering if you’ve fallen asleep, but he’s surprised by how attentive you are.

Y/N has inherited some of me, I see it now. Laena likes to say Y/N has her beauty, but my iron.

As he smiles at the recollection, Aemond asks you:

“What is my dear daughter thinking of?”

“I want to reclaim my dragon, daddy.”

Aemond sighs. Again, he is remembered of Helaena’s vision.

It came actually two months after you were born. His wife was struggling to sleep and this was a sign she was disturbed by something.

“What is it, my love? What is troubling you?”

“I cannot be sure what it is”, she sounded anguished as she took his hand and Aemond tried to remain calm. Helaena had to take her time when visions shook her. “Y/N carries the spirit of our house. She will not be like any other. I cannot be sure what it is. But she must be let to follow her path and reclaim a dragon herself.”

“I assumed she’d sleep with an egg”, it was all Aemond could tell.

“No.”

“You make it sound bad.”

“I do not wish to make her a queen, Aemond. Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.”

“A queen?”

But seeing Helaena would say nothing more, Aemond calmed his restlessness and held her close. He knew she needed him by her side, not any of his inquiries.

“We will do the best we can do to raise our little princess. I promise you.”

She looked up at him and smiled.

“I love you, Aemond Targaryen. I could have not chosen a better man to be the father of my children.”

And that was also the day she conceived their second child, a boy nine moons later born, named Maegor.

Back to the moment, Aemond clears his throat and says:

“All in due time, daughter. You must bear patience. Methinks Vhagar would be jealous if she knew you want a dragon for yourself.”

It’s enough to take your mind off the matter. And as if to confirm Aemond’s remark, the old dragon turns her head and gives you a look. You swear she buffed too.

“Oh no, Vhagar! Don’t be jealous! I love you and you’ll always be my favourite!”

That strangely seemed to calm the old hag and Aemond looks pleased it all ended well.

Helaena is welcoming her sister Rhaenyra and her family when she spots you running around the castle with six year old Jacaerys. The oldest son of Aegon and his wife is the heir to King Viserys’s throne after Aegon’s own rise to the throne. He is a handsome and very smart young man who seems to have taken a like of you.

“You stare at them”, muses Aemond, who silently puts himself beside his wife. He knows when these visions come and go. But not only that, he is acutely aware how welcoming the whole family party—which will soon be joined by the king and the queen—can be too much for her. “Is there something I should worry about?”

“No”, Helaena gives Aemond a small, but confident smile. She touches his arm discreetly, not too firm nor too weak. It’s a good vision, he understands. “He will make her happy.”

Aemond doesn’t like the idea of seeing you married too soon. Noticing this, she chuckles.

“My husband, you do not expect me to believe that Y/N is going to be a toddler for all her life, do you?”

He sighs, but does not answer. His good eye holds back a shadow of sadness as he sees you running after the curly haired Jacaerys.

***

• Stage Two: To Be A Child.

You have just recently celebrated your ninth name day. Aemond is keeping an eye on you as you are at the beach with a small group of friends, all of whom are your cousins: Jacaerys, Lucerys, Visenya and Baela. They are all talking about dragons.

A topic that, Aemond knows, can be somewhat sensitive to you—and this gives him some shivers. He remembers how his own cousins, Rhaegar and Baelor, sons of Lord Daemon and Lady Laena, mocked him because he didn’t reclaim any dragon. It costed him an eye. And he prayed nothing the same would occur to you.

Aemond is trying not to look very anxious when it’s Helaena who comes for his aid. She had excused from her sister’s adorable company to join her husband’s abrupt exile under the excuse of watching over the children.

But she knows what really troubles him.

“She is not like you. And they are not like them.”

Aemond limits to side eye at his wife.

“Is she…?”

“No.”

“But then…”

Helaena sighs.

“She is your daughter, she has some stubborn traits that you are to blame for”, she smiles. “Give them a chance. They are the next generation.”

“You let her too loose”.

“And you hold her too tight. This is not the way. Believe me, my dear. She will be fine.”

A third child came and suddenly your family is one of three. After Maekar, a boy named Jaehaerys has joined Summerhall.

“You must give me a companion, mama”, you pout. Today you are having an embroidery lesson with her. “It is not very fair when Maegor has a companion and I don’t.”

Helaena gives you a loving glance.

“Our family is growing big indeed.” And then she looks fondly at your father.

When you follow her gaze, you smile to yourself. You do sigh over at how devoted Helaena and Aemond are to each other.

This afternoon, Aemond is spending some time with his boys. Maegor being the oldest is trying to show off his best traits to his father, who doesn’t hesitate in appreciating his efforts.

Since it is raining outside, the family gathering is occurring just as fine until Maegor comes to tease you.

“Did you know, dear sister, that my dragon egg has hatched?”

Aemond is rocking baby Jaehaerys when he notices Maegor is not around.

“What about it?”, you pretend to find sewing interesting.

“It’s beautiful, really. It has blue scales.” And then the inevitable happens. “Soon it will grow and I’ll fly with it next to Vhagar. You’ll be left behind and no one will remember you.”

“SHUT UP, YOU STUPID FOOL!”

And to a general surprise, you stand up and slap his face hard. Aemond quickly comes at you, partially shocked—and secretly amused, since he’s been watching the scene from afar—but you escape everyone’s possible snort in tears.

“Maegor”, Helaena sighs as she tends her crying boy. “You shouldn’t have teased your sister.”

Aemond and his wife exchange looks. It’s very fitting that he, after reluctantly giving away his baby to a maid, goes to you.

Unsurprisingly, you are found pacing towards the yard. But something stops you from going out, despite the riot that so violently came upon your chest: it is the sound of those steps you are so familiar with.

“Now now dear Y/Nickname. What has come to fall upon my little princess?”

You run to your father, who is on his knees expecting you to do so. Whenever you felt distressed by something, this was how he welcomed you. Indeed it is a safe haven for you and Aemond knows it.

He sees so much in you and part of him blames himself for sharing this old wound with you.

This shouldn’t be it, Y/N. You’ll never know how I lament this to be it.

“Sing me that song, please.”

Aemond smiles at you. It’s a secret he shares with you. Whilst indeed Daeron is the one more apt to this function, once upon a time Aemond discovered that, thanks to you, singing old poems calmed your fears.

Whatever it takes to make my princess safe.

Choosing a song named Ode to Visenya, here father and daughter forget that time is passing and with it, all that childhood means… at the same time that he proves to be a better father than his own ever were where his infancy was concerned.

After a moment, you two are outdoors, at the yard, watching rain fall.

“You shouldn’t have slapped your brother, Y/N.”

You swear Aemond is smiling, but you don’t take your chances to bet on it.

“I cannot say I regret standing up for me. If I do not do so, then who will?”

So much like her father. Aemond looks at you, a hint of pride in his good eye making you smile and lean against him.

“Regardless, child. You are a princess, you must know when it is time to wage wars.”

“Does this mean I can be taught sword lessons when I grow up?”

Aemond looks at you for a moment. He should ask his wife first, but how can he deny you anything? His first child, his only daughter.

“Will you behave?”

“Yes, I promise! I promise I shall not slap the thwart…”

“He’s still your brother, Y/N”, Aemond scowls at you.

“Sorry. But I promise, yes.”

“Then I will teach you myself.”

Aemond swears he’s never seen such a bright face before. The light in your eyes almost makes this iron prince get to tears.

“I love you, daddy.” You say as you hug him tight.

….

“I love you too, my dear girl.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you are coming to tell me you are teaching our only girl to practice with sword”, says Helaena in such a casual tone that Aemond believes there should be an accusation where in truth there is none.

“And are you?”

With the children asleep, the two are settling their own nest. Aemond is thankful for this moment, where privacy is finally unbroken.

“She is a princess, Aemond”, Helaena gives her husband an amused glance, as if she knows things he doesn’t. “Mother would be horrified if she knew.”

“Thankfully, she is too occupied with her business in King’s Landing to be meddling in how we raise our children”, says Aemond, still somewhat resented that his mother is as absent now as she was before.

Helaena comes by his side and gently touches his face, making him look at her. As she does so, the princess removes his eyepatch and leans to kiss his forehead.

“She loves us in her own way”, then she melts in his embrace.

Aemond presses a kiss over her forehead, holding her tight. They stay like this for a while until the prince asks:

“What will be of our dear Y/N?”

Helaena looks up at him with amusement glinting in her lilac gaze. She smiles when she points it out:

“Y/N is really your favourite, isn’t she? Please be careful about it, or our sons will be jealous. Well, her future is not something that will get us preoccupied.”

That night, Aemond Targaryen slept a lot better.

You are visiting your aunt Rhaenyra and your uncle at Dragonstone again when you are told that there is a red dragon located at the dragon’s pit.

“Really?”, you ask Jacaerys. “How’d you know?”

“Father says that the old dragons like it there better. It’s like home for them, which makes sense considering their history.”

“Hum”, you say.

“You’re not considering going there, are you? No one has tamed Vermithor for decades since King Jaehaerys died”, Jacaerys gives you a concerned look.

But you do not give away your bold side just yet. You smile and dismiss his concerns by assuring him that you won’t do such a thing. In the meantime you two are speaking, here we follow to the adults conversation.

Sitting in the higher table are Rhaenyra and her husband, as well as Aemond and Helaena. They are expecting to welcome King Viserys and Queen Helaena with their youngest son Daeron in the next day.

“I have news to share”, says a mischievous Rhaenyra after a while.

“I’ve noticed you haven’t drank your wine, dear sister”, Helaena giggles quietly. “One wonders why.”

“Good Gods”, Aemond raises his eyebrows at Aegon. “Who knew this would come too far?”

“You ruined the news like always, Aemond”, says Aegon, amused. “But in truth.. aye, few would say an arranging as this would blossom to something good and provide to be a right decision.”

“Talk about it. How many children came of it?”, Aemond could not help himself, chuckling as he is elbowed by his wife.

“Aemond”, she snaps at him. “Don’t be mean.”

“Hardly mean, sister”, interferes Rhaenyra amused. “The children are good. And speaking of them…”

“Jacaerys is very fond of Y/N”, muses Aegon. “We’d think he and Visenya were pairing well, but Visenya prefers Lucerys whilst Baela has rather been good friends with Maegor.”

Aemond notices how Helaena suddenly appears more pompous. This time he’s the one who quietens. Marriage is not his expertise field and as he notices the group of children playing, he cannot foresee them married. Or maybe he’s just being protective.

Indeed as it seems, Maegor and Baela are getting along just fine: the former reads and the latter listens. A sight that actually leaves a good impression on Aemond, who had his own doubts about Maegor’s interest in studies.

He keeps an eye at the maid who’s holding baby Jaehaerys before noticing you, Visenya, Jacaerys and Lucerys discussing… dragons. Again. This time Aemond narrows his eyes, waiting for some strange burst or abrupt humor swift. He side smirks to himself at your composed self, but in fact the prince detects some familiar determination that honestly…. He isn’t sure if he wants to find out the reason behind it.

“Aemond”, Helaena summons him impatiently. “The children are doing good, thank you. May you be more considerate in this matter? What do you think?”

Murmuring an apology, Aemond doesn’t shy away of what he’s asked of. But Helaena knows the difficulty in doing so. However, the princess is certain that a merry path is underway. All they must do now is sow the seeds.

In the meantime their future is planned, you are found playing with your cousins.

“I have a dream of flying with Silverwing to Winterfell”, says Jaehaerys. “Much like our forefathers did.”

“You’ve claimed Silverwing?”, you cannot help admiring. “How bold!”

“I was not allowed to mount Vermithor for a strange reason. But alas Silverwing is such a good girl”, Jaehaerys smiles warmly.

“Silverwing was matched to Vermithor”, Visenya meddled, somewhat maliciously.

You cast her cousin a long gaze, but opt to remain quiet. Seeing you don’t buy the bait, or at least it is what Visenya assumes, topics are changed. But little they know what you are to do this evening.

“Y/N looks restless”, Aemond muses as he lies next to Helaena.

The princess is mute for a moment. She turns to face her husband.

“It is her moment, Aemond.”

“She is claiming her dragon”, but the prince doesn’t take it well. It’s up to Helaena to tell him what she has seen your future so far.

“Look, there is something you must know about Y/N…”

You walk barefoot the moment your feet reach the sand. Under moonlight you opt to trace your steps to Vermithor cave through an unknown—or rather an unusual—path that few are familiar with.

It’s risky. You know. Part of you wonders if this is right, but if Jacaerys has claimed Silverwing… You blush. Pairing the dragons together has only been done once and it was done so by your great-grandparents Jaehaerys I & Alysanne.

But you want to prove your parents that you are not delicate as they see you. In the end… you want to be seen as bold as your cousins, as Targaryen as any of them.

Here you are. Holding a torch to light your way, you enter unprotected through it. The great red-ish winged being opens its eyes and stares at you, distrusted.

A loud groan echoes through the cave, and the sound may as well be mistaken to an earthquake. But you do not quake in fear, despite looking paralyzed as the large old dragon comes at you as if you are ready to be burnt.

It’s when death comes so close that you lift your chin and tell Vermithor:

“I am my father’s daughter and I will claim you, Vermithor.”

The dragon spits fire as if to defy you. You escape barely of losing your life, but you proceed—even if your body shakes and your conscience questions your audacity.

“LIKYRI, VERMITHOR! DOHAERAS!”

A little girl. Nine moons and counting. Giving such a command to a dragon almost as old as time. It could end very bad.

But it does not. Vermithor doesn’t spit fire. It bows towards you.

And you smile proudly.

“Like my father. We are in this together, Vermithor.”

As poets later say, like father like daughter.

And this is not the ending, it is just the beginning.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #Helaena Targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x Helaena Targaryen #Helaemond #aemond fluff #Aemond fluff fic #Aemond fic #house targaryen #Jacaerys Velaryon x Y/N Targaryen #ewan mitchell

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