#Aemond targaryen x male!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

simpingland · 1 year

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Aemond x male valyrian dragonrider reader? Other than the Targaryens and velaryons there was another valyrian family that survived the doom, but unlike the other two this family was already very powerful in old valyria, after the doom they rebuilt themselves in essos. As well as having the most dragons (and the biggest) out of the descendants of valyria.

Anyways sowrry for the extra lore I just made up lol, aemond and reader meet when the Targaryens (and velaryons) are visiting reader's to-be-kingdom to establish an alliance

Zālagon and Vhagar// Aemond Targaryen x Male!reader.

Summary: You are the heir of a powerful valyrian House in Pentos. But the only thing you wished for was to fly day and night with your dragon. Only the lonely Prince Aemond can make the future look promising. Part 2

A/n: hi, thank you for reaching, I absolutely looooved the idea. I struggled a bit cuz it's so good it deserved a better pacing. I hope you like what I came up with. Gif not mine.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※As much as you were begged to be punctual, you and your dragon were distracted by the beautiful mountains that surrounded you. It was already dark when you arrived, and the carriages were the first thing you saw, then you caught sight of the dragons. Only one of them was comparable to yours, a green dragon. They all roared as you passed by, but your dragon remained calm until you reached the place where the others of its kind were resting. You couldn't even get water over your body before you were pushed by one of the lords of the castle to hurry up. There was no one at the entrance, nor in the throne room, which meant that they were already at dinner, and that you would be embarrassing your father. In your riding clothes, smelling of dragon, and sweaty from the run to the castle, the guards announced you and opened the gates. Blonde (and other brown) heads turned to look at you, and only your mother stood up to greet you. Giving you a kiss and apologising on your behalf, you were able to observe the family closely. King Viserys, old but kindly, said it was all right to wait for you. His wife, russet-haired, young and beautiful, remained serious. The heiress, Rhaenyra, watched without mock attire, smiling, though more to herself than to you. Her husband Daemon barely gave you a glance, not looking pleased with the event. Jace and Luke were the only brown haired boys at the table. Not even their eyes had Valyrian features, but they were formal. Aegon was more intent on filling his wine cup when dinner had not even begun, and his sister-wife Helaena was whispering things only she could hear. And all of them were easily overshadowed by him, Aemond Targaryen. His gaze did not lose power even after he kept one eye covered, and it was fixed on you. There was no expression, but you couldn't take your eyes off him either, engrossed in his whole persona.

You were seated opposite your father, and Aemond stood some distance away. But that didn't stop him from captivating you, and the exchange of glances became frequent. Your father spoke and listened to the king. The only other participant in the conversation was Jace, and Rhaenyra listened as her husband whispered things to her pointedly. Queen Alicent was quietly scolding every gesture of Aegon, who flirted shamelessly with anyone who came near him. You could see how your father tried to engage you in conversation, but whenever he caught your eye, you found your mind elsewhere (mostly in the Prince) and never responded nimbly. You could feel your father scolding you with his eyes.

"Have you come from flying?" The King asked you suddenly.

Everyone looked at you, it was quite obvious, but you couldn't just point it out to the king, so you nodded and tried to concentrate on something other than that serious blond prince.

"Yes, Your Majesty... I fly almost every day."

"Even if it rains?"

"That's when I enjoy it most, actually." Your answer brought a smile to his face, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as Aemond settled into his seat, sipping from his cup as he looked at you.

"My, you are a boy of courage," Viserys rewarded you.

"Though a foolish one too," your father interrupted. "He has trouble telling day from night."

You flushed, and the atmosphere grew a little tense. No one likes to hear that hateful tone between father and son.

"When one rides such a magnificent creature, my lord, time loses all meaning." Aemond's voice drew everyone's attention away. His hand caressed his goblet, and as he looked at your father with an expression of superiority. "Your son does well to presume what have made you mighty all these years."

Then he looked back at you, and you saw his expression soften. You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face, full of gratitude, and in complete agreement with him. Though your idea of dragons was not one to brag, it was certainly a useful one. You listened to your father try to find the right words without sounding offended.

"True, Prince Aemond," your mother supported him gently. "My husband has not ridden for years, but I have always admired our son's flying abilities. I've heard that Princess Rhaenyra first rode a dragon at the age of eight..."

"That's right," said the King, smiling at his daughter.

You watched as the Prince disappeared back into the shadow of his elder sister, only you seemed to be in awe of him, and you could not help but interrupt.

"Prince Aemond is the rider of Vhagar, the last dragon of the conquest, Mother." And then you watched as everyone fell silent again. The Velaryon brothers seemed to tense, and Aegon looked amused.

"The only dragon comparable to ours...no offence..." you continued. "How old were you when you claimed her?"

"He stole her," Lucerys added. Looking at him you saw how he was frowning and his mother was asking him to be quiet. "Princess Rhaena was supposed to claim it but the Prince couldn't respect her mourning before he stole Vhagar."

"I'm not going to argue with a child," the Prince said, taking another sip from his cup.

"A child who will one day be lord of Driftmark and outrank you. A child who plucked out your eye."

That was enough to make him rise to his feet, shouting bastard, and immediately a fistfight broke out between uncle and nephew. Your mother tried to pull you away, while your father commanded the guards to stop them. It was chaos, and you could see blood pouring from Aemond's nose, though blood came from Lucerys' mouth as well. And that was the end of the meal, but not of the night. When you followed your intuition, you discovered what you were looking for. On the mountain where Vhagar rested, the Prince sat, his silver mane being caressed by the air. He heard you coming, but did not turn to look. He didn't even say anything when you approached his side. He still had blood on his face, and you regretted not taking something to wipe it off.

"No one answered my question," you said. You saw a hint of a smile on his thin lips.

"I was ten years old when I claimed Vhagar."

His voice was extraordinarily sweet and yet it still managed to keep your heart beating fast. You felt you had to measure your words, but the urge to keep talking to him overcame you.

"Impressive, really."

"Impressive? You are the one who has been surrounded by dragons since you were a child. Ours are ridiculous in comparison." He finally turned to look at you.

"I was a very cowardly child. It took me fourteen years to ride for the first time on the only dragon that didn't terrify me."

"Strange for an heir of your house."

"I know." You ducked your head. It wasn't the first time you'd been made to feel inferior, like you were a mess. And you couldn't see the regret in the Prince that he had made an ill-advised comment.

"What is the name of your dragon?" He tried to bring the subject back to dragons. And your gaze went immediately to the distant mountain where it rested.

"Zālagon" you replied with a shy smile. A valyrian name.

"'Burn'?" He smiled back. "It's a good name for a dragon. A bit obvious, no offence..."

You laughed at his imitation of your comment at dinner. His leg pressed against yours and you could see that he was comfortable. Vhagar moved in place, with roars that begged his master to fly.

"You should let her fly around Essos. She looks bored here."

"I'd get lost if I went alone," Aemond said, returning to a serious tone.

"Maybe..." you tried to sound convinced, "I could lead you."

You didn't expect him to agree, but you were glad to propose, and before you knew it, Zālagon took flight with Vhagar trailing behind. The moon was full, and the lights of the rich city were guiding you. Both dragons roared in greeting and you could see Aemond enjoying himself as much as his dragon. Myr would be a good stop, a nice place and not too far away. You were ahead of him, your dragon was as big as Vhagar but not as old, for your family had managed to maintain the glory of dragons better than the Targaryens. You decided to amuse yourself, asking Zālagon to fly around Vhagar, and this began a race of ups and downs that put you and Aemond backwards on your mounts. And when Myr appeared at your feet, you flew straight into its harbour, in a race that Aemond was not prepared to lose.

As soon as you got off your dragons, you watched as they played together, not too far apart, enjoying each other's company.

"Vhagar is so big that she can't socialise with the other dragons. She can't even fit in the Dragonpit," the Prince confessed to you.

"Westeros is no place for Valyrian blood. Or so my father always says."

"Is that why you have never gone there?"

"And because it is here that we have built wealth similar to what we had."

You began to stroll along the shore, cloaks shrouding your appearance, but you could make out much of the Prince's face.

"I have read much about your house, my lord. It must be an honour to be heir to it." He sounded sincere, and you found it hard to disagree, but you had no desire to lie to him either.

"My father is obsessed with making it even greater." You heard a soft laugh from Aemond.

"And that is exactly why our visit has been arranged, because my father fears him."

"True. Though you and Prince Lucerys haven't left much time to talk, have you?" You tried to sound as light as he had sounded but he quickly turned serious again.

"I regret my behaviour," he confessed.

"No, Your Majesty, no apology is necessary. In fact...I'm sorry I brought up the subject of Vhagar. I didn't know it would provoke a confrontation."

"No, you didn't. No one expects the little bastard to be an imbecile..." he sounded rabid, his fists clenched.

"You're a Targaryen through and through by the looks of it."

That made him stop in his tracks. Indeed, it made you incredibly nervous and you feared for your words.

"Have I offended you?" you asked.

You watched as he shook his head, looking you up and down. He was so handsome, with that sharp face, his crystal blue eye. You walked on, watching as your dragons continued to amuse themselves. There he told you the true origin of the fight, the dispute over the throne and his father's indifference to him when he lost his eye.

"I have always aspired to something more, something of my own ability. But I have always been pushed into someone's shadow. They never wanted to listen to me and all my problems have been reduced to nonsense. And in the shadow one feels terribly lonely".

He shouldn't have told you all that, but something in you had pushed him to confide in you the things that grieved him. And before you went further away, taking care that no one could see you, you sat down under a tree that covered you both. There you were able to remove your hoods and saw that Aemond still had an open nose wound. You tore a strip of cloth from your cloak before grabbing a bottle of alcohol that you always carried for the many wounds you got on your travels.

"If you let me, I can disinfect it for you," you offered. He said nothing, just nodded, a little apprehensive. "It will only sting a little."

He made hardly a movement, just clenched his jaw from time to time, but nothing more. Then you remembered his eye and it all made sense. He was more than used to healing wounds. Your hands caressed his face and you tried to hold back everything that provoked you.

"I'm sure," you told him, "that dragons don't get stolen. And that Vhagar chose you."

"What makes you think that?" He looked sideways at you, his face close to yours as you cleaned his wound.

"She is the best dragon Targaryens have left alive, and she is surrounded by creatures who share her blood but do not match her. I have not had the pleasure of knowing your siblings well, but something tells me that none of them have the courage to claim a dragon of conquest at the age of ten. I think she saw herself reflected in you. Just as you must have seen yourself reflected in her."

"I've always thought the same thing, but I know if I said it out loud everyone would make fun of me."

"I would tell you that it's not like that, but I usually say what I think and it's true that they end up making fun of me." That made him smile.

"I get the feeling you don't enjoy being a firstborn and heir." He fixed his gaze on you again, serious but sweet.

"Everyone knows I won't do well."

"And how is that supposed to be known?"

"Well, because I don't want to do it myself. I'm not a leader. I've spent days studying lessons that any other kid would understand on the first try. I get distracted by anything and the only thing that makes me happy is to be flying anywhere so long as I don't set foot in the castle. With Zālagon I don't feel so...lost."

Perhaps it was too much information, too, but since Aemond had trusted you, perhaps you should show him that you trusted him. As you pulled the cloth away from his face, finishing your work, you felt Aemond's hand caress your fingers before pulling them away from him He surprised you and you saw his pupil dilate. Your eyes travelled alone all over his face, stopping especially on his thin lips.

"I've wanted to kiss you ever since I saw you appear through the doors."

His confession ruffled every hair on your body, and you were unaware of how long it took for your words to come out. But you managed to say them.

"Then do so, like the conqueror you are, Prince Aemond."

Your whispering voice tantalised his lips and he could take no more. He lunged forward, capturing your mouth slowly but insistently, and you could see that he had really longed for it. And maybe you hadn't understood it until that moment but your body was asking you to continue with the same fervour, placing your hands on his neck as he stroked your hair. The kiss continued as soon as you parted and you felt his warmth again, and if he didn't come closer you came closer. His lips always received you, so soft, so precise.

When dawn broke, it was hard to leave the coast behind, but the flight was even more fun than the way there. What would you do now? Your desire to leave Essos grew, but you didn't know that Aemond's desire to leave Westeros was also growing. He kissed you before returning to the castle, and along the way you could feel his fingers brushing yours constantly. If you were lucky, your parents' dealings would keep you in touch, whatever they were. But you decided not to worry about that, deciding to enjoy the visit. You spent some time practising with your swords, where Aemond proved to be a superb swordsman. You showed him the castle's library, where hundreds of writings from the ancient city of Valyria were kept. And of course, he visited your room when night came again, and that was his favourite place.

"I wish I could go with you," you said to him late into the night, lying in your bed and him beside you.

"I wish I could stay here forever..." he whispered back to you.

"You'd be missed."

"No. Not really."

You wanted to contradict him, but you couldn't even start a sentence when he shut you up with one of the hundreds of kisses you'd shared over the course of a few hours.

At the farewell dinner three days later, you decided to sit next to him, even if it meant moving away from your father.

"It is a pity, King Viserys, that we have not dealt with an arrangement to your liking," your father remarked.

That took you by surprise, and it seemed to Aemond as well. You prayed that no one had noticed how outcast the two of you had been all that time. But Rhaenyra's crooked smile at you let you know that it had been notice.

"A pity Helaena is already married and my nieces engaged. Perhaps the next generation can bond." The King seemed positive.

You looked at Aemond, trying to enjoy what little of his face you had left to see. He looked tremendously disappointed. If anyone had enjoyed Essos, it was him. Under the table, you put your hand on his leg, drawing his attention. He turned to give you a sad look. You wouldn't let it end. If he didn't stay, you would leave.

"Father," you put in a firm voice, releasing Aemond. "Perhaps we could unite our houses in another way, without marriage."

"And how on earth would that be done?"

You didn't know. So you resorted to a list of pros that had been rattling around in your head all day.

"Prince Aemond has no official duties at King's Landing. He is far from the Throne and knows the politics of Essos and Pentos well. Perhaps far better than I... it would be a great help to have him around." Your father looked at you disapprovingly, but still said nothing. You were about to give up. "Besides, his dragon has befriended Zālagon..."

"His dragon..." he replied wryly, "of course."

He was going to say no, but King Viserys smiled at the idea.

"Aemond," he said, looking at him, "do you wish to stay here?"

They all waited for his answer, and for an exaggeratedly long second you feared you would make a fool of yourself and see him disappear.

"Yes, father. I would be honored."

Both fathers looked at each other, and when your father stood up, he raised his glass.

"To peace between Valyrians!" He proclaimed.

Everyone joined in the toast, but you found it hard to drink just from the joy that filled your whole body. You watched as Aemond smiled sheepishly before looking up at you. He nodded at you, grateful. For once, his father had done him a favour. That night he slept with you again, and the next night you slept in his room, and the night after that you slept in the mountains of Pentos. And so you travelled the world for decades, always together, flying. At your side, Aemond's intelligence had a place at the table, men followed his orders and it was at your side that he stayed through crises, battles and feasts. Your most loyal advisor and you were his most loyal companion in life.

Never again did any of you feel alone or lost.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #Aemond Targaryen x male!reader

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darleuxox · 2 years

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lions and dragons don’t mix. ☆ aemond targaryen x male!lannister!reader headcanons

key masterlist ✦ hotd masterlist ✦ intro

warnings: repression; jealousy; r gets sliced in the face lol

summary: aemond hates you more than anything. your insulting jests, stupidly perfect hair, and handsome smile made him want to vomit. perhaps hate and love aren’t so different after all.

word count:1,305

a/n: from the first episode in which ewan mitchell slayed in his performance as aemond targaryen, i knew one thing for certain. that man needs some dick.

☆ when his mother announced she’d appoint a knight to specifically guard him, aemond, to put it frankly, was insulted. as one of the best swordsmen in westeros he shouldn’t need someone to protect him. but his mother gave him that look, one that suggested that this wasn’t for his comfort by any means - but for hers.

☆ although he felt reluctant, aemond sure as hell wasn’t going to choose some inexperienced sort. the idea grew on him at the thought of at least having some backup if anything ever went awry. so when introduced to the knights available, he showed no mercy.

☆ “how about your uncle gwayne hightower?”

☆ aemond thought back to his childhood when gwayne threw him over his shoulders without warning and tossed him into the river.

☆ “no.”

☆ the search didn’t pick up anytime soon. with aemond’s high standards, it was seemingly impossible to find a knight he’d approve of. then it was your turn to be dissected.

☆ “ah, that’s y/n lannister. lord tyland lannisters’s little brother,” otto recalled, “he’s your age, i believe. but the boy’s been training for much longer than you. he’s well known for leading troops against the rebellion up in casterly rock when his brother jason grew ill.” aemond scoffed, something competitive brewing in his chest. “ser criston cole says he’s a prodigy.”

☆ “intriguing,”aemond gritted out, before abruptly hopping over the stone fence and startling those on the balcony.

☆ “what the hell are you doing? aemond!”

☆ aemond ignored his grandfather as he took a good look at you. it was strange seeing someone so wealthy in a position seemingly beneath him. but he supposed you could handle it, given your reputation and the way your eyes remained focused on him.

☆ “let’s see if you’re as good as my grandfather says, hm?” aemond told you, unsheathing his sword.

☆ strangely enough, you smiled kindly, drawing out your blade and bowing at aemond, “of course, my prince.”

☆ the fight ended with aemond storming out of the room with no knight. you were officially the most insufferable person he ever met.

☆ “too princely to land a hit, are you?” you’d laugh.

☆ “you parried the wrong way, my prince,” you said grinning wildly, “let me show you how it’s done.”

☆ at one point you even held him down, your arms securing a tight hold around his neck, “let’s just stop before you cut my head off. or i cut yours.” aemond had to fight back. he hated how you smelled of apples and grass. he despised the feeling of your warm hands being so strong yet gentle.

☆ aemond couldn’t sleep at all that night.

☆ tyland wasn’t pleased with you, to say the very least. your older brother was typically supportive and delighted to hear about your wins, until now. he agreed to let you come to kings landing to protect the prince, not humiliate him.

☆ “if aemond tells the king or queen about this, he could have you killed!” tyland hissed.

☆ “i’m sure people have beat him in the past and they’re still alive,” you chuckled, “calm down.”

☆ “that’s because they didn’t bully him, you nitwit!”

☆ in a perfect world, aemond would go to his father for these situations. and considering his father didn’t care for his second family - aemond went to ser criston cole.

☆ “my prince, i don’t mean to be out of step,” criston explained, “but wouldn’t your guard being able to beat you in a fight be a good thing?”

☆ “what are you on about?”

☆ “if ser y/n can keep up with you, he can sure as hell keep up with anyone standing in your way.”

☆ aemond had begrudgingly made his decision by sunrise. you would be appointed as his personal guard while training with him during his lessons with ser cole to help him improve his swordsmanship.

☆ as his guard you and aemond see a lot of each other, the good and the bad. you quickly become acquainted with the fact that aemond’s attitude is a facade, and aemond learns to get used to your presence.

☆ more often than not you have to hold aemond back from one of his infamous tantrums or fights. at the moment he resents you for it, but after cooling off he’s thankful you were there before he did something regretful.

☆ to put it simply, vhagar is a grumpy old bitch. one that aemond expected to tear you apart. instead, she lets you pet her humungous cheek like a dog. he can’t seem to name that pleasant feeling in his chest whenever he sees you act so sweetly.

☆ once you accidentally walked in on aemond without his eyepatch. within seconds he had a knife to your throat and had you pressed against the wall. you simply told him the sapphire looked beautiful.

☆ aemond appreciates how nice you are to helaena and their mother. you always keep an eye on them when he can’t.

☆ aemond spent a lot of his time with ser criston cole, and although he appreciated the knight’s mentorship, he treated him like glass in some ways. you on the other hand, weren’t afraid to treat aemond like anyone else.

☆ “it’s not your loss of an eye that scares people away aemond. it’s the crazed look you have in the remaining one.”

☆ “y/n. come on,” cole said, giving you a stern look.

☆ “don’t deny it, he’s looking at me with it right now.”

☆ “just stop- oh.” the older man was silent, scarcely holding back a grin.

☆ you on the other hand had gotten your sword out, polishing it a bit more before showing it to aemond. aemond looked at his reflection and he was clearly unsure of what to say. it would be fruitless to fight back if you were right.

☆ “don’t worry aemond, it’s all in good fun!” you said, noting his embarrassed look, turning to aemond and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, “that’s what being a knight is all about, jesting with comrades! you can make fun of me now if you’d like!”

☆ “you…” aemond struggled, looking down at his hands, “you’re…”

☆ “go on!”

☆ “you’re insufferable.” initially he wasn’t kidding around. but aemond was nervous, even more so when you were deathly silent, glaring daggers at him. aemond was ready for you to choke him until you burst out into laughter.

☆ “there we go!” you hollered, “and your hair looks like moldy wheat!”

☆ “you oaf - take that back!”

☆ “you walk like a donkey!”

☆ ser criston cole was very amused watching you two go back and forth. it was nice to see aemond making friends. but he was surprised that even when hearing a particularly bad joke from aemond (which was all of them), you’d laugh anyways.

☆ aemond realizes how he feels about you when he hears the possibility of you marrying a martell princess. when he should’ve been delighted for you he felt hurt and betrayed.

☆ one wouldn’t think it possible to ignore their own bodyguard, but aemond proved everyone wrong. he began to treat you like a ghost, and it stung horribly.

☆ but much to aemond’s chagrin, you were persistent. taking every opportunity you could to ask him what you did wrong. eventually, you had cornered him in a secluded hall, desperate for some answers after a particularly heated training session, which resulted in aemond leaving a nasty cut on your forearm.

☆ aemond wanted to kill you when you hugged him, but all he found himself able to do was melt in your embrace. he realized this was the feeling his mother told him about, unconditional love that left you soft and dizzy. the yearnful touch that would leave him begging for more. something he was supposed to feel for someone he’d eventually marry. in a moment of confusing bliss and heartache, he pulled your face into his and pressed a hard kiss onto your lips.

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dreamlandcreations · 1 year

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Imagine being Aegon's twin brother and being in love with Aemond

Imagine being Aegon's twin brother and being in love with Aemond and him returning your feelings.

You reluctantly take the throne but manage to make peace with Rhaenyra, accepting Baela to be your Queen and offering the title of Hand to Rhaenys, naming Daemon the commander of your army and letting your elder sister keep Dragonstone as the Princess.

All is going suspiciously well. Until Aemond's wife discovers your affair in the worst way possible. However, the gods are with you because Lady Baratheon slips on the steps as she runs from you and falls to her death.

It is a tragedy that you take as a sign. You refuse to continue the relationship, breaking Aemond's heart not just your own. But your little brother is nothing if not stubborn, he will never let you go.

#no warnings. read at your own risk #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x male!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #male!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

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Hi! May I request an Aemond x male reader fic in which, instead of killing Aemond's nephews/possible kids after Daemon avenges Lucerys, they kill the reader, who is Aemond's true and only love?

What about the plans we made?

Tw: male!reader’s off screen death, brief mentions of religion and homophobia.

Dragons were, always and forever, animals first and foremost. They had minds and natural instincts much like anything else that thinks and breaths. Though they may have bond with their Targaryen counterparts from birth, that didn’t automatically meant that they would ever truly forgo their free will to obey and bend to the whims of those lesser then them. Aemond got firsthand knowledge of this pivotal lesson in a visceral and brutal fashion. The deafening sound of rain, tearing of flesh between powerful jaws and his own desperate, horrified screams haunted him from the darkest depths of his mind; Forcing himself into a solemn silence that prolonged for the rest of the flight back to KingsLanding.

The allegiance with the Baratheon’s were secured but given that it was the last thing on Aemond’s mind, it only tasted sour considering the actions made soon after out of a long overdue need for justice on the boy who took his eye without consequence. Vengeful thoughts had consumed and plagued him ever since that day when his father, King Viserys the Peacful, proven himself an insolent judge; Especially towards his daughter Rhaenyra, who in Aemond’s mind was just as insolent as he was. The only person who was just as bloodthirsty for justice was his mother but her efforts were stopped by seemingly everyone. Proving to young Aemond that no one within that hall, expect his mother, would’ve cared if he had died within the altercation instead.

From then on Aemond swore to become his one judge, jury and executioner by educating himself in the way of the sword whilst studying up on philosophy and history on the side. It was also then that he met his first love. You were tucked cozily in a plush chair that was adjusted to sit closely alongside the windowed wall of the library, a thick, leather bound book placed upon your lap. Aemond has never felt this way towards someone of the same sex, according to the Faith of the Seven this attraction was seen as one of the more bigger ‘cardinal sins’ alongside marriage between siblings, cousins, uncles and so on. So when you finally looked up from your reading, presumably due to the fact that Aemond has been staring at you longer then a man should towards another man. The prince thought you’d look at him with disgust, instead you showed him a polite smile that had the edges of your eyes cutely creased.

Aemond felt as though he had been reverted back to that dragon less child that kept to himself and lingered closely to the back whenever his family has business with the other houses of Westeros. Perfecting to be left alone to his own devices but this time he didn’t want to be alone for he has done that quite enough for one lifetime. He’d rather be alone with you instead. Not long after your first encounter, feelings blossomed between the both of you and out of them came your secret nightly meetings within him chambers that concluded with you both sweetly kissing promises within the others lips; solidifying your love for one another. Now with his newly appointed title of Kinslayer, Aemond was afraid that he wasn’t going to be able to keep his promises to you; Nor be able to give you the live you’ve dreamed of always having. It’s his biggest regret and he would have to force himself to bear it until the day he died.

Back at KingsLanding you kept your eyes to the skies whilst keeping Heleana, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera and their baby brother, Maelor company. It had felt like a short while since Aemond’s departure for Storm’s End, but to you it felt like eons had passed without your Targaryen lover to keep you warm on the loneliest of nights. It was blatant for Heleana, who had since stopped embroidering bugs awhile ago, to see that you had grown skittish and almost impatient by your habit of incisively picking at your skin and constant paces to and fro. She too was worried about her brother but held enough faith in knowing that Aemond was more then capable of handling his own; However it seemed that your worries didn’t stem from the same branch as hers but more so one of that of a lover yearning for the other half of their heart to return intact.

“Y/n.” Heleana called out, yet you didn’t seem to hear her as you stopped your pacing and instead rested an arm against the brick wall beside the window, eyes still scouring the skies in hopes that a behemoth shadow would descended from the cloud line. “Y/n.” The princess tried again as she stood up from her chair to cross the room to you, holding onto your bicep until you turned to look at her. “Aemond will return but not to victory but to grief and sorrow.” Heleana whispered the second half under her breath as though she didn’t want you to hear the latter half of her wording. You gently held her by the shoulders, “what do you mean by ‘but not to victory but to grief and sorrow?’ ” Heleana averted her eyes from yours as she whispered the words once more under her breath, “Aemond will return but not to victory but to grief and sorrow.” You let your hands drop from her shoulders, knowing that you wouldn’t be getting your answer anytime soon and chose to go back to staring out of the window and to the skies once more. Your heart becoming heavier in your chest with every passing moment you didn’t see Vhagar the darker the sky got.

Unlike everyone else who heard and dismissed Helaena’s cryptic rambles, you took them with a grain of salt for as vague as her words might be, the context of what those words could entail were infinite. Was Aemond unsuccessful? Or was he able to secure the allegiance but something befell him soon after? The possibilities were endless and you tried not to go mad with deciphering it all when you already weren’t in the best states of mind. Something was coming for you, it lurked within the halls of the Red Keep like rats; Their intentions weren’t of the pure variety from what you could deduce from focusing on how your muscles became rigid and stiff, how the hair on the back of your neck and arms stood at attention alongside the goosebumps there.

You stood there and prayed to the old Gods and the new that whatever was coming didn’t come for Heleana or her children but come for you in their stead. For to you, Heleana never did anything wrong and neither have her children who were too young to understand the cruelties one must harbour within oneself in order to survive. You may have picked up the blade once or twice but it was always to defend but never attack even when provoked. Aemond was the more skilled swordsman out of the both of you and whenever you sparred it always ended with you on your back with him towering above with a smirk as his sword was poised at your throat. The more you thought of Aemond the more about him you began to miss more so then before. The way he discreetly held your hand, prepped kisses along your jaw and neck in the early mornings when he had to depart for training or how he would fly you on Vhagar to your frequent spot just off of KingsLanding, where laid a small plot of uninhabited land. You even missed the passion you felt within his kiss before he left for Storm’s End.

Whilst your thoughts ran rampant with memories and worries for your love, you didn’t the door to Heleana’s chambers open and it wasn’t until you heard the Princess’s horrified gasp that you were made aware of an unfortunate fact. Whatever you had been feeling moments prior had manage to take a physical from and was now in the room with you in the form of two men. One small and scrawny, the other brawny and hulking. Instinctively you stood in front of Heleana and the children, shielding them from the men and the knives that they carried. “Which one of you is y/n,” said the scrawny male, pointing his knife from you to the boys, as though he were picking meat from the market. “a debt is to be paid.” The brawnier man finished though his eyes lingered on you more so then they did on Heleana and the children.

The lump in your throat refused to subside not matter how much you tried to swallow it down, “the person your looking for is me,” you answered as confidently as you could as to not show fear in the face of danger. Without tearing your eyes away from the duo, you spoke to Haleana, “I want you to take the kids and get out of here.” She grasped your arm, eyes wide with worry at the implications of your and your assailants words. “What about you? You don’t have do this.” “I can’t.” You replied, knowing that if you were to try and leave the room with her and the kids then much worse would befall them then it would yourself if you stayed. You loved Heleana as a sister and you would rather die out of her line of sight then force her in staying here to watch you die at the hands of these men. “He’s right Princess, he can’t. Even if he did, one of your children would have to be forfeited with him in the debt.” The scrawny man cackled, not an ounce of remorse to be found in his words as he played with his knife as though it were a toy.

“Heleana, please, take the children and leave while you still can.” You pleaded. “What about Aemond? What about the plans you’ve made for when he returns?” Heleana whispered softly into your back, still gripping onto your shirt. You clenched your eyes shut as to prevent tears from cascading down your cheeks all the while hearing the sound of your heart gradually breaking fill your ears. ‘Aemond.’ Your heart weakly sang at the mention of his name, only to sober up quickly when the reality of never seeing your lover again alive silenced the desires of having him in your arms. In your moment of weakness you dared to look at Heleana one last time, taking in all her worried features and the way her violet eyes pleaded with you to not break her heart even more then it already had at that point.

“Tell Aemond that...” Your throat tightened and your eyes stung when you told her the next part, “tell him that I’ve never stopped loving him, even with my final breath, for to stop loving him is like dying to me and I don’t want him to think I died not loving him.” You swallowed thickly before continuing, “When all I ever done up until now was love him until it costed me my life and I do not regret it. Not even a little bit.” You concluded, giving Heleana a sad wobbly smile, tears lining your eyes as you gently jutted your head to the child’s who were clinging to her skirts, staring at you with sad and confused violet eyes that it pained you to look at them a second longer. “Take care of yourself Heleana and tell Aegon I’m sorry for leaving so soon.” Originally you had been Aegon’s friend but as time passed, you both drifted apart due to differences that needn’t be explained. You merely mention his name out of impulse and nothing more but you couldn’t help but to think that there was still a little bit of the Aegon you knew within him, lying dormant somewhere.

So as you watched as Heleana clutch her children tightly as she scurried them pass the two men, stopping only for a brief moment to look into your eyes once more, committing them to her memory, before exiting the chamber as the sound of their scuffling feet grew quieter and quieter the further away they got. “Now that the waterworks is finally over and done with,” the brawnier man said, closing the door, locking it for good measure before turning back to look at his scrawny partner who looked about as psychotic as one could get. “It’s time that you paid your debt. Lord Y/n.”

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olivefeuillu · 2 years

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Aemond X Male Knight / Kingsguard reader

Summary : Aemond and a male kingsguard reader having a passionate make out session.

Modification of the supper scene

Might write a part two

Already established relationships

Warning : cussing (?)

English is not my first language and It’s the first time I post more than a tiny imagine. Sorry if there’s any mistakes !

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The man in armor wore his white cloak with pride, being a royal bodyguard was always something he dreamt of being. A few months ago, he was promoted to the Kingsguards as he received the crown’s favor and recognition. He was given the honor to serve and protect the second born son, Aemond of house Targaryen.

During his months of service, he got close to the prince’s heart, very close. The knight didn’t only protect him, he also loved him. He gave him the love the prince never had in his own family.

Tonight was special, the royal family was celebrating unions between the house Velaryon and the house Targaryen. The kingsguard was far away from the big table full of food that was surrounded by the royal family. He watched the maids running with the plates of food, carefully. The guard listened to the conversations coming from all directions as he stood near Ser Criston Cole, until he saw a roasted pig on a platter being deposited in front of Aemond’s place.

“ Oh, oh,” he thought.

Lycerys sneered as he looked at Aemond. The prince stormed out of the room after he saw the smirk on his nephew’s face. If he could have fed his nephew’s eyes to his dragon, Vhagar, he would have done it. He didn’t want to make a scene in front of his mother. Revenge can wait. He can wait.

His guard followed him out of the room like he would normally do, but tonight his prince is furious.

“ This fucking bastard,” he clenched his jaw and took a deep breath to calm himself down. “ If he dares look at me again, I’ll-…”

“ My prince, I suggest you to not bring unnecessary drama to your family supper,” his knight softly smiled to help him calm down. “Do it for your king, your father. This is probably one of his last family reunions.”

“ I don’t give a shit. My father never did anything for me. He did nothing when this bastard took my-…” his eye hardened to this thought and his brows furrowed.

“ Then do it for your mother, for your sister,” he approached him and his armor made metallic sounds as the meters separating them disappeared, “ do it for me.”

“ For you ? mmh.”

“ Yes, for me,” he hoped this was enough to calm his lover’s nerves.

Aemond approached him, they were now closer, their chests were almost touching and the prince looked down to him. The knight was just a little shorter, but almost the same height.

“ What do I have in return,” he asked and took his hand in his.

“Whatever you want , my prince,” he looked at him for a little while.

The silence took place between the two men. They spoke with their gaze like they normally do around others, teasing each other without words. Aemond thought about everything he could do and decided to kiss him gently.

They began kissin in the empty hallway, a slow and soft kiss. The light coming from the torches were gently exposing their actions to the dark. Their lips were locking, the knight‘s hands placed themselves on the prince’s left cheek and neck to deepen their passionate moment.

“ My prince…” he kissed him back and Aemond pressed him between his body and the wall. He slowly lifted his head up and caressed the knight’s bottom lip with his thumb. The knight’s strong back was against the wall, Aemond’s lower body between his legs, their hands gripping whatever they could find like they never had enough of each other. The guard put his lips on the prince’s jaw and made a trail of kisses until he pecked his lips.

“ Aemond, I love you-”

Then the door suddenly opened. His sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, still pregnant, was standing in the hallway. The knight’s heart stopped beating as he gasped and pushed away the prince : “ It’s not what you think, your highness !”

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#aemond targaryen #male reader #aemond targaryen x male!reader #aemond x male reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond stannies #hotd x reader #house of the dragon

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lya-dustin · 1 year

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Seasons of my love

Bridgeton!Au! Loosely based on S.2 of Bridgeton where the Male!Reader is Anthony and Aemond is Kate Sharma basically.

It was supposed to be heterosexual, but that felt too basic, so have some gays in love this Sunday instead.

Gif by @gameofthronesdaily

Taglist: @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly

It was heard from the Lonely Light to Asshai by the Shadow that if a man wants to court the princess, he must win her brothers’ favor first. So far, no one has been able to secure Prince Aemond’s blessing.

After Helaena and Aegon petitioned their father to stop Ser Otto and the Queen to force them into marriage, court had been filled to the brim with eligible bachelors.

All simpering fools who have the ambition to rival that of his grandsire and none of the personality nor good nature of Laenor, the last man to marry a princess.

Laenor ---despite his degeneracy--- had been knighted in battle, able to charm birds off trees and, most importantly, a dragonrider.

Laenor had also not given a rat’s arse about what his wife did behind closed doors ---or in the stables as Aemond and Aegon discovered a lifetime ago.

This last part is of paramount importance due to what Aemond knows about his beloved sister.

Sweet Helaena should have been named Rhaena, he thinks as he tries to stop mother from hearing his sister calling Lady Elisa Piper her darling wife.

Helaena did not care if her husband loved her or lived that long and often could not discern between friend or foe, so it fell on Aemond to be the shield who protects her from the rakes and Androw Farmans in the lists.

Being her favorite brother and the only one who cares about her wellbeing, was not an easy job, but only he could do it.

Aegon just wanted her married so their dear mama could stop trying to annul his marriage to Cassandra Baratheon.

Daeron was too young and believed the choice should fall on whoever Helaena liked.

Only Rhaenyra backed this scheme of his, horribly enough.

The Princess of Dragonstone is known for having a good eye for men, Ser Criston had grumbled bitterly ---not that Aemond cared to ask for context about his acrimonious feelings towards his elder sister.

She and Daemon would host the suitors in Dragonstone ---she was in confinement due to the imminent birth of her sixth child--- and send him the list of those whose characters they considered good enough for Helaena along with more profuse apologies from her brood of Strong Boys.

The one-eyed prince found himself forgiving Lucerys after the forty-ninth letter written about his guilt and wished to offer his own eye in recompense.

“Perhaps, number nine and forty will win your approval.” Helaena had said as they met this man whom their sister gave a glowing recommendation.

He dressed well, was a knight and a lord.

Lord (Y/N) (L/N) was also handsome, charming and not a piece of dragonshit, or so Daemon had assured him in his letter.

Perfect for my sweet Helaena, Rhaenyra had added in hers.

“You said the same thing about numbers one to eight and forty, mandia.” Aemond said as he eyed you like a horse being brought forth by the horse coursers yesterday.

As usual, the suitor takes great consideration in wooing his sister and trying to establish a sense of friendship with Aemond.

Unlike the rest, however, you take in consideration his likes and dislikes instead of assuming he is into whatever Aegon or the other rakes are into.

You are well-read, amiable, religious but not a zealot and, most importantly, you get along with Helaena like a house on fire.

“They are perfect for each other, don’t you agree?” mother tried her best to get Aemond to like you.

Too perfect.

And while he has become fond of you, dangerously fond of you, Aemond knows he is setting himself, no, his sister for a sure disappointment.

So one night Aemond decides it is time for Aegon’s test.

A test that consists on getting you drunk, asking questions and leave you in a brothel while both brothers come to a verdict.

You don’t drink much, but eventually you are drunk enough to sing a rather scandalous version of Seasons of My Love with him.

One where instead of a maid it is boy.

Aemond finds himself drunk enough to kiss you.

A mistake the both of you blame on the wine.

After all, Aemond is a prince and you are courting his sister.

“I apologize for my behavior, my lord, it won’t happen again.” He had said pretending it was just that. “But I see no reason to deny you my blessings to marry my sister.”

The kiss mean nothing, the prince tells himself even after finding out from Helaena that you prefer men over women and finds her as beautiful as her brother.

It means nothing, Aemond repeats even after he begins to remember how sweet it was.

He claims he feels nothing for you except friendship and yet the wedding day comes and Aemond feels pained enough to try and numb it with wine.

He should not have these feelings for you, he can’t, it goes against nature and the gods of his mother.

But he wants you, wants you in a way he has not wanted a woman or man before.

Aemond makes a toast and cannot keep his eyes away from yours, thinking it unfair that all the qualities he loves about you are on you, a man.

Not just any man, the man married to his favorite sister.

A man he has to pretend is merely a friend for the rest of their lives because the moment Queen Alicent finds out, they are dead.

Later that night, you find him absent-mindedly strumming a lute.

It’s your wedding night, and yet the ones enjoying the bridal chamber are Helaena and her Elissa going by the looks of it.

“Do you take any requests, your highness?” you ask coming to sit beside him.

A dangerous proximity, one where he cannot trust himself to run should his desires and feelings for you get the best of him again.

“Only if its you.” The prince said trying to keep his cool.

“Rather enjoyed that Myrish song the other night. I had hopes to ask for an encore.” You say, hiding your meaning well enough.

“Hmm, what would your bride say?” Aemond knew Helaena had given him the freedom to do as he pleases, but Aemond needs to hear you say it.

“She sees no reason to deny me her blessings to pursue you.” You answer and take advantage of his surprise to return the kiss.

This time it isn’t called a mistake nor blamed on the wine.

This time Aemond dares to do more than just kiss you.

#aemond x male!reader #bridgerton!au #this is for the gays #aemond targaryen x male!reader #hotd reader insert

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simpinglandxxxfanfics · 2 years

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My one true King// Aemond Targaryen x male!oc

Alys Dayne is the secret love of Aemonds life, the only one he could trust with his feelings after coming back from Storm's Ends. Would he think of him as a monster? Would he destroy the boy's life?

He came back wet, her eye much more open than usually. When he reached for his mother, he couldn't look at her. He was entering the throne room, where Aegon was sitting on the throne, Otto by one side, Alicent by the other. Ser Arys Dayne was listening in the hall, waiting for Aemond to come back. He had gone to propose an alliance between houses, the young prince would marry one of the Baratheon daughters and assuring a loyalty to the new King Aegon. The Lord heard of the news by gossiping, so when Aemond was about to fly, he cronfronted him.

"When were you going to tell me, my prince?". He had anger and sadness moving throw her blushed face. "When I find her in your bed? Or you may put her in the back of your Vhagar and fly together your way to King's Landing". The Targaryen couldn't speak at the moment, his throat was closed by the sadness so he just stared at the ground. In the silence of the lonely Dragonpit, Arys started to sob. They both knew that nothing could be done, that this day would come, but not so soon. To calm him, and to let him know about how much he still loved him, Aemond took Arys faces into his hands. But the boy refused. He pushed the prince and left, Aemond watched him disappear before riding to Storm's End. Having the princes marry meant for Arys to do the same, there was no need for him by his side according to the social laws of Westeros. He came to the Red Keep when he was one and ten, the King Viserys approved Otto's idea of bringing a boy on court that could train with a recently half blinded Aemond. The King suggested a Dayne, family known as the best fighters and swordsman, as well as loyal people. The house sent their second born, the one with the princes' age. At first, Aemond was an absolute dick. He found Arys character soft and weak, but he was better than him with weapons, much graceful and smooth. So he became jealous and a bigger dick to him. All that stopped by the resilience the Dayne boy showed everyday. He always greeted the princes nicely, he always offered his hand when Aemond fell, always tried to calm him when Aegon annoyed him. Little by little, they became friends. They shared their feelings after the training, when they were left alone by Ser Criston. And, as the years went by, they became much more than friends, but thats another story.

The prince did act weird after one meeting, but Alys could sense his stress and anxiety so he decided to be close to him but not insistent. Now he knows what it was and he felt stupid. They were only six and teen, and many seconds sons were allowed to wed much older, or even not obligated to wed. Well, Aemond being a prince could make his ascent to the throne possible but if the Greens avoided a war there would be no need for him to stay at court. Alys was also aware about his non-existence duties now that his brother had two baby boys back at home. But all those things were dreams, they were the things that were supposed to happen, if only the Gods were good...At the distance, Alys stared at his prince, he looked so genuinely upset that the anger in Alys became worry and he followed him to his chamber. Of course, Aemond could feel him behind, but they did what they always did, walk the same direction, one before the other, no exchange of looks until one of them arrived at the rooms. Alys saw him get into his own, he then went into his, but he entered one of the many secret halls of the Keep and he finally reached the secret door in Aemond's room. He knocked two times, like always.

Aemond hurried to open it, he need it to talk, but he didn't want to do it with Alys. He did trusted him with his life, and he didn't feel judge at all...but they have different ways to see life and the thing he did was the kind of thing that the Dayne boy founded worthy of punishment. He didn't want to lose him this way, he didn't want to see the disappointment of his beautiful eyes and say goodbye knowing he felt disgusted by the person Aemond had become. But... Seven Gods...he loved him so much he was dying to see him again. And there it was, behind the secret door that he opened at the moment.

Alys was there, his eyes staring at him with sadness and he entered slowly. A fire was lightening the room, buy Aemond was stil soaking wet. They didn't speak, but Alys started to put the prince clothes apart. The dragon kept staring at his lover with soft eyes, tears about to fall. The clothes were putted on the sofa nearest to the fire. He was naked, but this was another type of nudity for the couple. The hands didn't move from the prince's face and Alys stared at him until he confessed.

"I just started the war..."

"I bet thats not the truth". Alys tried to confort him.

"It is" he spilled. "I killed Luke". The hands felt off. "I was just trying to scare him...to scare him so much he ended up ripping off an eye just for me".

"Was it an accident then? I don't understand". Alys was, as Aemond feared, horrified.

"I saw him on Storm's End, and I threatened him...but I just wanted an eye..." Aemond never cried but he was having trouble with swallowing. "I became so angry, Alys...that fucking kid with his little dragon, all dress up and noble...He's a bastard and nobody fucking cares...".

"Aemond, what the fuck did you do?" Asked Alys, growing angry. He did agree with him, but the prince didn't act right that night at Driftmark and Luke was just a kid defending his brother.

"I chased him with Vhagar...and Luke tried to hurt her and she...she became..."

"Uncontrollable?" Alys always feared for that. Such an old dragon, a wild creature. Beasts are never to be trusted and Aemond never saw why he feared his flying habit so much.

"I tried to stop her...I beg for her to stop and before I realised...she ate the bastard alive...the wings and tales were the only thing that escaped her bite". Poor Luke, he was just a kid, a teenage...Alys met him the last time he came, a brave boy, a bit naive but at the events that followed Alys saw the reason why the Greens resented them so. Luke shamelessly laugh at Aemond after everything...that night they both spent it together, talking and Alys made an efford to convince him. "You told me to gave them my forgiveness. At the end of the day, Luke was just a kid, you said...and now he would never had the chance to grow up".

Knowing Aemond, he wasn't sad about his nephew...he was sad about being the one who did it. Because what he did meant something that was out of his reach, war was a King's business, and he could only dream of it. War was a terrifying scenario, where the people that he loved would be in incredible danger, and even the victory would demand losses. And he had people he loved as much as Rhaenyra loved Luke. They will come for him, not only her half sister, but Daemond too. He not only had a mother that he loved, but Helaena was his most adored sibling, with kids who still had a chance of becoming like her mom...and Alys Dayne...oh, if the gods take him away...he would never forgive himself. He, the only person he could be true to himself, how believed in him, his sweet and wise Alys looked at him with terror and he felt himself falling apart. Now it was him sobbing and Alys pulling him closer. He caressed his back, Aemonds face hide in the croock of his neck.

"War started the moment your brother was crowned, Aemond...and Luke...you need to learn to control yourself...you fill yourself with hate...".

"Are you going to hate me?" cut Aemond. He looked up again, eye red. "I brought war with me on this night".

"I could never hate you, Aemond...and I was willing to fight for my true king any other way, because you are my true king, and I love my one..."he kissed his forehead, "true..." he kissed his eyelid, "king..." he putted away his patch to kiss his esmerald, "Aemond Targaryen" and he softly kissed his lips.

"I love you, Alys Dayne...but you are not going to fight for me...you will with me" he promised.

"From this day, until my last day, dragon".

"From this day, until my last day, star".

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x male!oc #aemond targaryen x male reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x male!reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond one eye #aemond stannies #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #game of thones #game of thrones fanfiction #asoiaf

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0silver0dreams0 · 17 days

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Yandere House of the dragon x ModernReborn!Reader

Summarised: (your name) died in a horrific way, but she has been reborn in a new world, where the body she is trapped in is (your name) Targaryen, daughter of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen, who took her own life after the death of her dear sister Helaena, who was very close to her.

Warning: This story contains descriptions of sexual violence and vulgar language, a small change of ages of the characters to make more sense.

Author's note: English is not my first language, please let me know so I can correct them.

You just want to relax at least one second or two, maybe end that series or read that special book. Being at university was tough but it was even tougher having a job too in a bar, where if a man showed even a minor interest in you will go he would comein you direction, visibly drunk, smelly and disgusting putting money in your uniform and saying obscenities. Some would just go and leave you alone if you were lucky, but others would try to follow you or even try to touch you, but you always managed to get away and escape them. But is seems that this time, you didn't. Now you were pulled into a lonely alley, next to the trash, with an obviously drunk man, with ginger hair, horrible teeth and a foul smell he gave you a ten-dollar tip but now he was trying to take your clothes off. Fighting and fighting, that's the only thing you could do, and the worst of all you just DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. How to getting yourself out of this situation? He was stronger and bigger than you, he had already taken you underwear off under your skirt until he freed one hand to unzip his jeans, so you put your only free hand in his eye, pressing as hard you could and with rage.

"Ahh! bloody bitch!"

When he let you go, you ran as fast you could, but he grabbed your ankle, causing you to hit your head. You felt dizzy, numb, and you couldn't move your body. Plus your vision was lost; you could only see the little mark on the wall, a dragon with more than one head or at least you thought could see.

"Hey! Get up! I'm not playing! GET UP, BITCH!"

You just heard him, you wished, you really wished that you could get up, but you couldn't. You felt water around your head and neck, but you could see now, it was not water, it was blood, your blood. Now it was cold or at least it was for you, and it was catching you, cold, and colder you felt. that bastard haad gone already, leaving you there, alone, cold, and without underwear. Maybe is a good idea to take a nap, isn't it? Maybe in the morning everything will be better, just maybe.

When you wake up, you are in your crib, hungry, and alone, so you did the only thing you could: you cried.

"What is wrong now,dear?" A woman came up, your mother, "You are hungry, right?" your mother look at you with a soft smile, taking out her breast, she gently brushed your hair as you fed.

You are her little baby, her replica. She wasn’t going to use you like she did with your brothers; you would have freedom in this harsh world, she often thought about your future. But one thing was certain: you weren’t going anywhere from her side. Before she could think of anything else. She left you in your crib, your stomach already full. Even though her other sons wasn’t like you, she loved them. It’s just that you were like her—you have her hair, her nose, her cheeks, and even her smile. You only have your big purple eyes, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were another piece of her.

Even though she didn’t like to admit it, you were her favourite. And even if she never said it, it was obvious to everyone. She fed you herself; you didn’t have a wet nurse like your siblings. She knew that, apart from Rhaenyra, you were the second favourite of the king, her husband. And then there was your sister Helaena, always watching you with her curious eyes, who was only one year older than you. As for Aegon, well, he would always be Aegon—jealous of all the attention and love you received. Of course, he loved you, but why? Why did you receive so much attention and affection? He felt like he had to beg for even a little, as if he didn’t have a grain of love, as if he wasn’t special.

A while later that night, the doors opened, letting in your dear father, followed by someone behind him—your older sister, Rhaenyra. With a smile on his lips and without greeting anyone, not even his wife, he went straight to your crib.

"How is the little one? It seems she’s resting just fine," he said, touching your cheek lovingly. "Everything is fine; she just needs her space, Your Grace," Alicent responded, her voice tense. "She looks like you, but I can feel the dragon inside her," said Rhaenyra, gazing down at you beside her father. "Yes, but I really need the two of you to go. She’s already asleep, and I don’t want anyone disturbing her and—" before the Queen could finish, Rhaenyra interrupted. "We aren’t making any noise. Just five minutes won’t hurt, being by her side."

"Please, Alicent, she’s just a baby. She doesn’t need space; we can stay here with her," the King responded, a touch of obviousness in his voice. "As you command, Your Grace," Alicent replied.

The only thing Alicent could do in that moment was clench her fists behind her back and bite the inside of her cheek, merely watching as her husband and Rhaenyra hovered over your crib, oblivious to the tension and rage on her face. You stirred lightly in your sleep, unaware of the silent battle above you.

"You’ll see, my Queen, she’ll be like me—like a dragon, big and strong," Rhaenyra said softly, her voice filled with affection as she gazed at you.

Alicent’s eyes narrowed, her frustration growing with each word Rhaenyra spoke about you and herself. How dare she compare herself to my daughter? Alicent thought bitterly. And how dare they act as if they know what’s best for her? You were her child, and you would never be like Rhaenyra, bearing bastards and shaming the name and duty of your house.

"Yes, she’ll be strong. But now, let’s leave her to rest. It’s late, and we don’t want to wake her," the King said, turning to Alicent. "Thank you, my dear. You’ve done well."

Alicent bowed her head, the polite gesture hiding her fury. "Of course, Your Grace."

As they turned to leave, Alicent stood by your crib, just the two of you once more, her mind racing. She would protect you, no matter what. You were her baby.

The next morning Alicent was awaken by the maids, who prepare her for the day, when she came back in her room were you were before, your crib was empty. Scared call one of the maids

"Where's my daughter?!" She asked with anxiety and tension clear in his voice. "I'm not sure, my Queen. I'll find out right away."

While the maid was gone, Alicent’s anxiety grew. She rushed out of the room, determined to find her daughter. Who dared take her baby away from her protection?

She searched everywhere, her worry mounting with each passing moment. It wasn’t until she reached the garden that she finally saw you—her little baby girl—in the arms of Rhaenyra, walking through the garden with her illegitimate sons, as if nothing had happened,as if they had just stolen her baby.

"How dare you?!" Alicent's pace quickened as she moved to take you into her arms. Before she could reach you, Rhaenyra stepped aside, still carrying you, blocking Alicent’s path.

“We were just taking a walk. She looked so bored and alone in her room, so I thought it would be nice for her to get a little sun,” Rhaenyra explained, gently brushing the little bit of hair you had.

“She’s not yours to decide that! She is my dau—” Alicent began, but before she could continue, Viserys cut her off. “Alicent! Stop right now. She is my daughter too, and I think it’s a good idea that she spends time with her sister and nephews.”

Defedent Alicent just look the little smirk that Rhaenyra gave her. Rhaenyra triumphantly thanked her father, and walked away with you and her little toddlers.

How could she protect you when you had been taken from her side so easily? Why did no one listen to her about what she wanted for her baby? Why was everyone so ignorant?

While Rhaenyra was just happy, feeling she had won against Alicent for you, her little sister, she imagined everything would be better if you were her daughter, her little baby. But Alicent always seemed to step in the way. Soon, you and Rhaenyra would be inseparable. Perhaps you could marry one of her sons, and in that way, you would be with her forever. She envisioned herself as your mother, but ultimately, she would be your mother, no matter what—regardless of Alicent’s rants or even your brothers.

Pt. 2 >> (coming soon)

Author's note: (your name) doesn’t know what will happen to everyone or what will happen to her in the other world.

#yandere hotd #platonic yandere house of the dragon #yandere x reader #yandere house of the dragon #male yandere x reader #yandere house targaryen #yandere x darling #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys targaryen #hotd x reader #yandere aemond targaryen #yandere aegon x reader #yandere jacaerys velaryon #yandere alicent hightower #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #dark hotd #deamon targaryen

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br0kenangel · 6 days

Text

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐌𝐲 𝐝♡ve 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 3

Summary: after that night, no matter what you do, no matter what you say, no one believes you. You're done. You want to quit being his therapist but you still haven't seen the worst part...

Warning: paranoia, abuse, mental illness.

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

PART 1, PART 2, PART 4

It had been days since that night—days since the dead doves, the blood on the walls, the police visit to the Targaryen home. Days since Y/N last felt normal.

Now, the walls of her apartment seemed to close in on her. The curtains remained drawn, blocking out the light of day. The once-cozy space was now a prison, suffocating her with silence, except for the incessant scratching at the back of her mind. The feeling of being watched, of not being alone. Every creak, every whisper of wind against the windows made her jump.

She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t sleep. Her body felt weak, and her mind was clouded in a haze of paranoia. Her hair was greasy, her skin pale and blotchy. Dark circles framed her eyes—eyes that were wide with fear, darting around the room, always expecting him. Expecting Aegon to appear from the shadows. She had stopped showering, afraid that if she closed her eyes for even a second, he’d be there when she opened them. Her reflection in the mirror was foreign, ghostly, a stranger trapped in a body consumed by terror.

And her boyfriend…he was tired. More than tired. He was done.

"Y/N, for fuck's sake, you have to stop this," he snapped, his voice breaking the silence like glass shattering on the floor. He stood in the kitchen, staring at her with a mix of frustration and pity, while she sat at the edge of the couch, her legs pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them.

"You don’t believe me. You never believe me,” she muttered, her voice hoarse from days of crying, of pleading. "I saw him. It was him. I know it was him." Her eyes were wild, flicking toward the corners of the room as though Aegon might materialize from the shadows at any moment.

Jacob sighed, rubbing his temples. "Y/N, we've been over this a thousand times. The cops checked him out. There was nothing—nothing—to suggest he did anything. No evidence, no signs, nothing. He’s just some guy going through a rough time, and you're his therapist. You’ve taken this too far."

She flinched at his words, the sting of them sinking into her chest. "No…you don’t get it. You don’t see him like I do. He’s dangerous. I’m not safe. He knows where I live. He wants me." Her voice trembled as she spoke, each word a desperate plea for him to understand.

But he didn’t. He was tired of this, of her, of everything.

"You're obsessed, Y/N. Obsessed with this guy. You spend all your time thinking about him, talking about him, dreaming up this whole fucking scenario in your head like you're the main character of some horror movie. But this isn't a movie—this is real life, and you're making shit up!" His voice grew louder, angrier with every word, his patience long gone.

Y/N shook her head, her body trembling. "I'm not making it up. You have to believe me—please. I’m not crazy. I’m not—"

"Yes, you are!" He cut her off, his face twisted with frustration. "You’re fucking crazy, Y/N! Years of being a therapist have finally caught up with you. You’ve absorbed all the bullshit from your patients, and now you’re projecting it onto this guy. Aegon didn’t do anything to you—he’s just some poor bastard who had the misfortune of being assigned to you."

Her stomach lurched at his words. The pain of his accusation was worse than anything she’d felt before. It was like a knife twisting inside her, carving out the last remnants of hope she’d clung to. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think.

"I'm not crazy," she whispered, her voice broken, fragile. She didn’t even recognize herself anymore.

Jacob slammed his hand on the counter, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Then why are you acting like it? Why can’t you just let this go? You're ruining your life—our life—because you’re so fixated on this guy. You won’t eat, you won’t sleep, you’re a fucking mess, Y/N! I can't keep doing this! Every time I try to help you, you just spiral deeper into this delusion!"

Tears streamed down her face, but she barely felt them. "I’m not delusional," she repeated, but her voice cracked, betraying her.

"Yes, you are!" He shouted, stepping closer, his face red with anger. "You’re making this shit up because you’re obsessed with him. Admit it! You’re obsessed with Aegon. You’ve let him get into your head, and now you’re the one who’s losing it."

"No!" she cried, her voice raw. "I’m not obsessed with him! I don’t care about him like that! I’m scared—he’s going to hurt me! I know he is!"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Oh, give me a break. You’ve been so wrapped up in this guy, you probably want him to do something, just so you can play the victim. Just so you can have some sick thrill of being the center of his attention. It’s pathetic, Y/N."

His words felt like a slap in the face, each one tearing at her like claws. She stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to believe that this was happening—that he was saying these things to her. The one person who was supposed to protect her, to believe her, had turned against her.

"I can’t do this anymore," he said, his voice quieter now but still laced with anger. "I can’t keep pretending that you're okay, because you're not. You need help. Professional help. Maybe you should check yourself into a fucking psych ward, because right now, you’re acting like a fucking lunatic."

Her breath hitched in her throat. The room seemed to spin around her, her vision blurring with tears. "How can you say that?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "How can you say that to me?"

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly done with the conversation. "Because it's the truth. And deep down, you know it. You're spiraling, Y/N. And I’m not going to stand here and let you drag me down with you."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. She felt as though the world had collapsed around her, the last piece of her sanity slipping away.

"Fine," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you think I’m crazy…then just go. Leave me."

He stared at her for a long moment, the anger still simmering in his eyes. Then, without another word, he turned and stormed out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving Y/N alone in the dark.

And for the first time in days, the silence felt more dangerous than ever.

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, her eyes red and swollen from sleepless nights. She hadn’t heard from her boyfriend in days, and each missed call had sent her deeper into a pit of despair. But today was different. Today was the day she would finally face Aegon.

Her hands shook as she brushed her hair, her fingers trembling with every stroke. Her reflection looked haggard—dark circles under her eyes, skin pale and sickly. She barely recognized herself, but she needed to pull it together. She had to pull it together.

"He’s just a man," she whispered to herself, her voice shaky but determined. "Just a man… I’m in control. I have to be in control. I can’t let him win."

Her eyes flickered toward the closet. She needed to choose something to wear, something that made her feel strong, confident. Something that would hide how utterly broken she felt inside.

She reached for a black turtleneck, one of the few pieces of clothing that didn’t feel too vulnerable, too exposed. The fabric clung to her body in a way that was both comforting and suffocating, but she convinced herself it was armor. Something to shield her from the weight of Aegon’s gaze. She paired it with dark jeans and boots, feeling the weight of each step as she slipped them on.

"It’s just another session," she muttered, pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail. "I’m going to confront him. I’m going to tell him it’s over. He can’t do this to me anymore."

She stared at herself in the mirror, trying to find some semblance of the person she used to be. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink, her knuckles white from the pressure.

"You're not crazy," she told herself, her voice stronger this time. "He’s messing with you, but you can stop this. You can end this. Just get through today, and then you’re done. You’ll quit. You’ll never have to see him again."

Her heart raced at the thought of being in the same room with him again, but she forced herself to breathe.

"In and out," she whispered, taking a deep breath. "Just…in and out. You can do this. You have to do this."

She tried to picture how it would go. She’d walk into the room, sit across from him like she always did, but this time, she wouldn’t let him get to her. She wouldn’t let his twisted words sink into her skin like poison.

"I’m the therapist," she reminded herself, pacing back and forth now, her boots tapping against the hardwood floor. "I’m the one in control. He’s just a patient. He’s just…" She trailed off, the image of Aegon’s wide eyes and the way he had silently told her to shut up flashing in her mind.

She shook her head, trying to push the memory away. "No, no… Don’t think about that. You’re stronger than this. You’re not scared of him. You can quit. You can walk away."

But her hands wouldn’t stop trembling. She stared at them, willing them to be steady. "Breathe," she muttered, forcing another deep breath into her lungs. "Just breathe."

She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, the weight grounding her for a moment. "You’ve got this," she whispered one last time, trying to convince herself.

But as she headed for the door, the creeping sense of dread wrapped around her, cold and suffocating.

Y/N sat at her desk, staring at the door, the silence of the room pressing in on her. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, and the knot of anger in her chest only grew tighter. She gripped the edge of her desk, her fingers turning white. She was done with Aegon. Done with his games, his manipulations, his stalking. Today, she was ready to confront him—she was ready to make him understand that she wasn’t going to be his victim anymore.

The memory of the dead doves, the blood, still haunted her. Every night, she barely slept, feeling like his eyes were on her, even when she knew she was alone. And yet, despite all of it, he had gotten away with it. He had made her look crazy, gaslighted her in front of the police and her boyfriend, made her question her own reality. But not anymore. Today, she was taking control. Today, she would end it.

Her jaw clenched as she imagined him walking through the door, with that smug, twisted grin. Her mind raced with the confrontation she had been playing over and over in her head. She would scream at him, shout at him until he admitted what he had done. Until he finally stopped pretending to be some innocent victim.

The minutes dragged on, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the clock. And then, finally, the door creaked open.

Aegon stepped in, but something was different. He wasn’t the man she was used to seeing—there was no smirk, no defiance. He looked… broken. Shattered.

Her eyes widened in shock. His face was a mess of bruises, swollen and discolored, with dark bags hanging under his bloodshot eyes. His clothes were disheveled, stained with dirt and blood. He walked with a limp, his steps small and hesitant, like every movement hurt him. His hands were clasped tightly together in front of him, shaking as they fidgeted against each other. He kept his head down, glancing around the room like a trapped animal, flinching at every noise, every movement.

Y/N blinked, completely taken aback. This wasn’t the Aegon she knew—the arrogant, unhinged man who had stalked her, terrorized her. No, this was something else, something… disturbing. He looked like someone who had been run over, like life had chewed him up and spat him out, and now he stood there, fearful and fragile.

For a split second, she felt something almost like pity creep into her chest. But then she remembered who he was. What he had done. And the anger surged back to the forefront.

"What the hell happened to you?" she asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

He didn’t answer. He just stood there, eyes darting around, avoiding her gaze. His lips trembled, but no words came out.

She slammed her hands on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "Aegon!" she snapped. "What the fuck is wrong with you? What kind of game are you playing now?"

At the sound of her raised voice, Aegon jumped, visibly flinching. His body curled inward like he was trying to make himself smaller, his shoulders hunching as his knees gave way. He dropped to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth like a scared child.

Y/N’s anger faltered for a moment, replaced by confusion and a creeping sense of dread. "Aegon, what the hell is going on?" she asked again, but this time her voice was quieter, uncertain.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he started muttering under his breath, his voice shaky and broken. "What’s the matter?" he whispered, his words barely audible. "What’s the matter, Aegon?"

Her heart sank as she realized he wasn’t talking to her. He was talking to… himself? His voice trembled as he repeated the words, like a broken record. "What’s the matter, Aegon? No. I’m not gonna hurt you. Come here. Come on. What’s the matter?"

Y/N felt her stomach twist as the phrases spilled out of his mouth over and over again, each repetition more unsettling than the last. It wasn’t Aegon’s voice. It was someone else’s, echoing through his broken mind.

She watched in horror as he hugged his knees tighter, his entire body trembling. "I’m not gonna hurt you, Aegon. See? That wasn’t bad," he whispered, tears streaming down his bruised face. "That wasn’t bad. That wasn’t bad."

It hit her like a punch to the gut. This wasn’t some act, some manipulation. Aegon had been abused—horribly, painfully, to the point where his mind had fractured. And now, as he sat on the floor, shaking and crying, he was reliving it. Over and over again.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She had never seen him like this. She had never imagined this side of him—the scared, broken side. The side that had been hurt so deeply that he could only repeat the words of his abuser like a mantra.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her hands shaking as she stood there, unsure of what to do. Part of her still hated him—still wanted to scream at him, to blame him for everything. But another part of her… felt something else. Something terrifying and sad.

She knelt down beside him, her voice soft and hesitant. "Aegon…"

He didn’t respond, just kept rocking back and forth, his tears falling faster now.

"I’m not gonna hurt you," he whispered again, his voice trembling. "See? That wasn’t bad."

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. "Aegon," she said softly, "I’m not going to hurt you either. It’s okay."

He didn’t seem to hear her. He was too far gone, lost in whatever memory had taken over his mind. His eyes stared blankly at the floor, wide and terrified, as if he were seeing something she couldn’t.

She reached out slowly, carefully, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at the touch, his whole body recoiling, but she didn’t pull away.

"Aegon," she whispered again, trying to keep her voice steady. "It’s okay. You’re safe here."

But he wasn’t safe. Not really. Not with whatever had broken him, not with the darkness that clung to him like a shadow.

He rocked back and forth, mumbling, "Come here. Come on, what’s the matter, Aegon? No, no, no, I’m not gonna hurt you."

Y/N felt a chill run down her spine, her heart pounding in her chest. Whoever had done this to him—whoever had hurt him—had left a mark that ran deeper than anything she could understand.

For the first time, she realized she wasn’t dealing with just a stalker or a psychopath. Aegon was something much darker, much more broken than she had ever imagined.

She swallowed hard, trying to push the fear out of her voice. "Aegon," she said quietly, "It’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid."

But as his sobs grew louder, as he curled tighter into himself, Y/N knew that nothing she said could reach him.

The real Aegon—the one who had tormented her, who had done horrible things—was still there, somewhere. But so was this… this terrified boy, trapped in his own mind.

And she didn’t know which one scared her more.

Y/N swallowed down the terror rising in her throat, her hand trembling as she reached out to softly pet Aegon’s head. At first, he flinched, his body jerking away from her touch. But then, as if something clicked in his broken mind, he looked up at her—really looked—and his tear-streaked eyes seemed to recognize her for the first time. His lips trembled as he whispered her name, broken, like a child.

“Y/N…”

Before she could react, he clung to her, his body collapsing into her lap, his head pressed against her chest. He sobbed quietly, his whole body shaking, his hands clutching her as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded. She froze for a moment, completely caught off guard, but then instinct took over, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. His tears soaked through her clothes, and she could feel the tremors in his frail, battered form.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, stroking his hair, trying to calm him. “It’s okay, Aegon. You’re safe now.”

His sobs eventually began to quiet, his breathing slowing as she rocked him gently, her voice soft in his ear. “Shh… it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

For a long time, they stayed like that—her holding him, him clinging to her like a lifeline. The moments stretched into eternity, and Y/N could feel his grip slowly loosen as the storm inside him settled. He pulled away slightly, his eyes red and swollen from crying, but he refused to meet her gaze, his head turning away as he tried to wipe at the tears that continued to fall.

“Aegon…” she began softly, “What happened to you? Who did this?”

He didn’t answer. He just stared at the floor, his jaw tight, struggling to control the tears still running down his face.

“Aegon, please…” she pressed, her voice gentle but firm. “You have to tell me.”

For a moment, it seemed like he might respond, but then he muttered something, barely audible. “I… I hate it. When she… when my mother does horrible things to me.”

Y/N felt her breath catch. His mother? She had always known that Aegon’s relationship with his family was fraught, but this? There was something darker here, something that had broken him in ways she couldn’t fathom.

“But it’s okay,” Aegon continued, his voice shaking. “Because I love her. And that’s what matters, right?”

“No Aegon–”

"I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y/N," Aegon said suddenly, his voice softer now, almost childlike. "I was angry that night, but I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to hurt him. I didn’t like the way he looked at you. The way he touched you."

She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "Aegon…"

He turned to her then, his bloodshot eyes wide and full of sincerity. "You can hit me, you know. I won’t stop you. You were so angry, I could see it. You can hit me if it makes you feel better."

Y/N’s blood ran cold. "What? No, Aegon, I’m not—"

"You can," he repeated, almost eagerly. "It’s okay. You’re mad at me. You can hit me." He smiled then, a soft, unnerving smile that made her stomach churn. "I won’t even flinch. I promise."

"Aegon, that’s not—"

“You can beat me if it makes you feel better,” he continued, his voice unnervingly soft, as though he were offering her a gift. “It’s okay. I’ll let you do it. I deserve it, right?”

The pit in Y/N’s stomach twisted. His words, his tone—it was as if he was trying to convince himself, not her. Like he was rationalizing the abuse he had endured.

He turned his head just slightly, enough to glance at her from the corner of his eye. “You’re like me,” he whispered.

Her body tensed at his words. “What… what do you mean?”

He wiped at his face with trembling fingers, still not fully meeting her eyes. “Even though your boyfriend hurt you… you still think about him, don’t you?”

Y/N’s blood ran cold. She felt the fear creeping back in—the terror that had been gnawing at her ever since the day the dead doves appeared at her door. The stalker. The horror. It was all coming back.

Aegon finally looked up at her, his eyes glittering with something dark, something sinister. “You love him… don’t you?”

She opened her mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the air thick with a suffocating dread.

Aegon’s lips twisted into a smile—that smile. The one she had seen before, the one that sent chills down her spine.

“I hate him,” Aegon said softly, his voice dripping with venom. “I hate the way he treats you. The way he talks to you. Hurts you. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. She could feel her pulse quickening, her mind racing, trying to piece together what he was saying—what he was implying.

“Do you know,” Aegon asked, his tone disturbingly calm, “why he hasn’t answered your calls?”

Her stomach dropped.

She hadn’t heard from her boyfriend in days. He had stormed out after their last argument, refusing to answer her desperate calls or texts. She had been terrified, worried sick about him—about what he was thinking, about whether he’d come back. But now, sitting here, listening to Aegon, that fear morphed into something far worse.

He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have.

Her entire body went cold.

“What… what do you mean?” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

Aegon’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with something inhuman, something evil. He didn’t answer directly—he didn’t have to. The look in his eyes told her everything.

He leaned back, his voice light and playful now, like they were discussing a joke. “Did you open the gift I left for you?”

Her heart nearly stopped.

Gift? What gift? She hadn’t seen anything—hadn’t thought about it. But then, the morning came flooding back to her. The moment she had left the house, her mind too wrapped up in her terror and paranoia to notice anything out of place.

Her blood ran cold as her mind raced with horrible possibilities. The gift. What if it wasn’t just some harmless object? What if it was—

No. No, no, no.

She stood up so fast that she almost tripped, her eyes wide with panic. Aegon was laughing now—a soft, eerie laugh that filled the room, the sound making her skin crawl.

“Oh, Y/N,” he cooed, his voice mocking. “You really should check your door more carefully in the mornings.”

Her mind was spinning, her heart racing. She had to get out. She had to leave. She couldn’t stay here—not with him, not with his laughter ringing in her ears, the sick grin spreading across his bruised face.

She grabbed her keys from the desk, her hands shaking so badly she nearly dropped them. Aegon was still sitting there, watching her with that horrifying smile, his eyes gleaming with delight.

“You’ll thank me later,” he called after her as she bolted for the door.

Her mind was screaming, her heart pounding in her chest as she tore through the office, slamming the door behind her. His laughter echoed in her ears, following her down the hallway, filling her with a terror so deep she could barely breathe.

And as she ran, the only thought in her mind was the horrifying possibility of what she would find when she opened that gift.

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

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lady-ashfade · 10 months

Text

£ Hypothetically if I were to already be working on some hotd fics, even though I just put up a poll.

#yandere alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #yandere Alicent hightower x reader #yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #yandere house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon #yandere aemond targaryen #Aemond targaryen x male!reader #‘Fades-poll

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simpingland · 1 year

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I LOVED EVERY BIT OF IT!!!! Literally giggling and kicking my feet reading your work 😭

I loveeeee how you write reader sm I love how you could see how much reader is struggling with not living up to people's standards, and how much it hurt him to think aemond doesn't think he's powerful/strong enough to survive battle 💔

Also I think it's about time I get a sign off... how about 🐉 a dragon since it's kind of my thing now

So HAPPY SO HAPPY SO HAPPYYYYYYYY YOU LIKED IT!!!! Thank you for trusting me, reach me whenever you want, love🩷🩷🩷

#house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x male!reader

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slavicdelight · 9 months

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The High Tower and the Dragon's Heir

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x male!Targ!reader

Summary: Lady Alicent Hightower was the closest friend of Princess Rhaenyra, yet she couldn't help but fall for her older brother, Y/N.

Warnings: none, following canon divergence

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Alicent Hightower gracefully strolled the corridors of the illustrious Red Keep, her morning lessons with her inseparable companion, Princess Rhaenyra, having just concluded. The echoes of footsteps accompanied her every stride as she made her way towards the luncheon appointment with her father, Ser Otto Hightower, the King's Hand. The castle bursted with vibrant activity—servants hurriedly carried out their duties, knights stood in vigilant postures, and nobles engaged in animated conversations, exchanging the latest court gossip.

As she ascended a majestic staircase, the voice of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Westerling, reached her ears. With a soft smile, Alicent reciprocated the courteous greeting. The anticipation of her father's chambers lingered in the air as she approached, each step echoing with the weight of her familial responsibilities.

However, the routine of her morning took an unexpected turn when, just before she reached the sanctum of her father, a sudden force collided with her, threatening to send her sprawling. A gasp escaped her lips, but before the cold stone floor could meet her, strong and reassuring hands prevented her from falling. These hands belonged to none other than Y/N Targaryen, the eldest son of the reigning monarch, King Viserys.

In that fleeting moment of unexpected encounter, the bustling ambiance of the Red Keep faded into the background. Alicent found herself lost in his gaze. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, and as Y/N steadied her with an effortless strength, Alicent's heart quickened, realizing that even in the most predictable corridors, destiny had an uncanny way of intertwining lives in an unexpected matter.

"Oh my, Lady Alicent. I'm so sorry; I didn't notice you," the young Prince expressed with a charming smile, nearly as enchanting as the prince himself. His gaze held a hypnotic quality that left Alicent momentarily flustered. Deep down, she possessed an immense fondness for him, but the fear of rejection and the potential repercussions from his younger sister stopped her from ever expressing them.

"No, my Prince. It was I who should've been more careful," Alicent nervously replied, her voice betraying a subtle hint of admiration. The unspoken tension between them lingered in the air. Her father's disapproval of the prince added a layer of complexity to the situation. Otto Hightower believed him to be the same as his uncle, Prince Daemon, hence the mutual hostility.

"Were you heading to your father, perhaps?" the prince inquired, his curiosity evident. Alicent hesitated, aware of the strained relationship between her father, Ser Otto Hightower, and the prince. Otto's opinions about Y/N's fitness for becoming king often clashed with the prince's aspirations.

"Yes, my prince," Alicent replied cautiously, choosing her words with care. The prince graciously took a step back, allowing her to continue her journey towards her father's chambers.

"Then do not let me stop you," he said with a small, understanding smile, his gaze lingering for a moment before gracefully descending the stairs, resuming his own path through the corridors of the Red Keep. That brief encounter, had left Lady Alicent soft in her knees.

Entering the Hand's chambers, Alicent immediately noticed her father seated at the table, a large variety of dishes laid out. She greeted him respectfully and took her place on the opposite side. "Alicent," he acknowledged with a nod, his eyes shining with a mix of sternness and affection. "How was your morning?" he inquired, motioning her to being eating.

"It was fine. I studied with the Princess the whole morning after breaking fast with her and Queen Aemma," Alicent replied, offering a light summary of her activities. The mention of encountering Prince Y/N on her way to her father's chambers prompted a subtle change in his demeanor. His brow lifted, and a stern look accompanied his response. "Prince Y/N is not a good influence. I advise you to avoid him," he coldly said, his voice carrying a weight of disapproval as Alicent cast her gaze downward. "Very well, father," she agreed, and the remainder of their lunch unfolded in a heavy silence.

As Alicent's thoughts drifted back to the violet-eyed prince, she couldn't comprehend her father's disdain for him. In her eyes, he was gallant and the epitome of a perfect prince. The unspoken tension between father and daughter lingered, leaving Alicent with a sense of conflict between her loyalty to her father and a growing curiosity about Y/N.

A fortnight later, the joyous occasion of a tournament took place in order to celebrate the King's anticipated new heir gripped the Red Keep. Nobles from far and wide were invited, marking the event as a grand affair. Queen Aemma, began her labours early in the morning, enduring the suffering alone, as King Viserys presided over the jousting festivities. Prince Daemon, displaying exceptional skills, unseated Alicent's brother Gwayne from his horse.

Victorious, the Prince then diverted his attention towards the stands where Alicent sat. With a charming smile, he asked for her favor, stating, "Lady Alicent, I'm sure your favor would ensure my victory today." Casting a fleeting glance at her father, Alicent handed Daemon her favor. Unbeknownst to her, a certain prince of the crown observed the exchange with a glare and a clenched jaw.

The joy of the tournament swiftly gave way to a somber hush when a messenger arrived bearing the tragic news of Queen Aemma's death. The atmosphere within the Red Keep became grim, mournful mood reigned for weeks. The funeral, held on a distant hill, marked a solemn occasion where the lifeless forms of the Queen and the young Prince lay upon the pyre, awaiting the embrace of dragonfire from Syrax and Shadowspine, the loyal companions of the Queen's surviving children.

Following the ceremony, Alicent found herself once again in her father's chambers, the weight of grief hanging heavily in the air. "How is Rhaenyra?" her father inquired, slight concern etched across his face. Alicent, her fingers idly picking at her fingers, replied, "She just lost her mother." The sorrow that lingered in her words mirrored the collective grief that shrouded the entire Keep.

Not being one to hide his ambitions, her father suggested, "Perhaps you would like to offer the King some comfort. Losing a wife is a terrible thing. He would surely rejoice in a visit." Alicent reluctantly agreed to undertake this solemn task, driven by her desire to please her father. As she turned to leave, she overheard her father's additional instruction, his voice low and laden with subtle implication—indicating that she should dress herself in one of her late mother's gowns.

Rather than heading to the King's chambers as initially intended, Alicent found herself standing before the doors that guarded Prince Y/N's residence. A guard announced her presence, and she entered, greeted by a scene of disarray. The room resembled the aftermath of a storm—furniture upended, decorations scattered in chaotic way. Amidst the disorder, she discovered her prince, seated on the floor, his back against the bed stand, his once-silky hair now tangled, and his eyes holding a haunted look. The scent of alcohol lingered in the air.

Taking a seat beside the prince, Alicent met his gaze, prompting him to question her presence with a strained voice, revealing the results of earlier screams. "I came here to see how you're holding up, my Prince," she replied calmly, her eyes scanning the wreckage around them. He only scoffed in response.

Drawing on her own experiences, Alicent shared, "When my own mother died, people looked at me with pity. I didn't want it. All I wanted was to hear they were sorry." Her empathetic words hung in the air, and she continued, "I'm so sorry for your loss, my Prince," concluding her condolences with a soft look, her eyes reflecting genuine compassion. Y/N stared at her in silence, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, as he began to unveil the weight of his heartache.

"My father's quest for a second son is to blame for this tragedy. He never considered me worthy of the throne," he confessed, his voice full of bitterness and sorrow. "He wished for another son, a better son. One he could put on the throne after himself. I was never enough. Rhaenyra wasn't enough. He killed my mother for a new heir. And now, my brother is also dead," he uttered.

Alicent's heart ached for him, the immensity of his suffering echoing through the confessions. Despite already bearing the responsibilities of being the Heir, this added layer of tragedy made the burden almost unbearable. In her earnest attempt to offer solace, she stood by both Y/N and Princess Rhaenyra, a pillar of support during these dark times.

As Y/N was officially declared Heir before the realm, Alicent stood steadfastly by his side, witnessing the unfolding of destiny. She remained present during the uncomfortable prospect of their father's remarriage, understanding the siblings hesitation. The more time they spent together, the threads of friendship between Alicent and Y/N began to intertwine with the delicate threads of love.

When the time came for the Prince to choose a wife, he declared his intent to marry Lady Alicent, much to Rhaenyra's dismay. While Viserys rejoiced in the prospect, Otto, though reluctantly, agreed to the union. Though not a fervent supporter of the Prince, Otto recognized the strategic significance—marrying his daughter to the future king ensured the placement of his bloodline on the throne.

The union of Alicent and Y/N was immortalized in what became known as the White Wedding. It was a testament to the pure and evident love that bound the newlyweds. The ceremony resonated with the harmonious union of two souls, their vows exchanged amidst the sacred walls of the Sept.

Shorty after their nuptials, the arrival of Aegon Targaryen marked a new chapter in the royal family. The beautiful boy, with the coloring of his father and the distinctive facial structure of his mother, embodied the perfect mix of the royal couple. Aegon, the newest Prince, became a living testament to the love that flourished within the Targaryen lineage.

As Alicent carried the weight of their second child, King Viserys sought to hold a celebratory hunt on his grandson Aegon's second name day. The relationships within the Targaryen family began to mend, albeit slowly, and the noticeable favoritism towards Rhaenyra, perhaps due to her resemblance to her late mother, didn't escape Y/N's notice. Despite the slight discomfort, he chose to focus on his growing family, diverting his attention away from the nuances of favoritism and concentrating on the joyous moments that bound them together.

The grand hunt orchestrated by King Viserys brought a sense of delight to Otto Hightower, who relished the opportunity for both entertainment and strategic alliances. The men, engaged in the pursuit of a White Hart—a symbolic creature representing royalty—set out with purpose, leaving the women to find solace within the safety of the camp.

As Alicent sat beside her husband, Y/N, who held their young son Aegon in his lap, an unexpected intrusion disrupted the peace inside the tent. Rhaenyra, the spirited Princess, burst in with determination, her grievances clear. Viserys, in his pursuit to secure her a suitable match, had orchestrated a connection with Jason Lannister, much to Rhaenyra's vocal displeasure. The fiery Princess asserted her autonomy, rejecting the notion of being treated as a prize to be sold to the highest bidder.

The repercussions of this confrontation left Alicent aware of the strain in her once-unbreakable bond with Rhaenyra. The princess, fueled by a desire to ascend to the throne, resented the twist of fate that seemingly diverted Y/N's affections toward Alicent, who had become the new Princess consort.

In the next years, Rhaenyra's fate took a turn as she was forced into a marriage with her cousin, Ser Laenor Velaryon, because of previous liaison with her uncle Daemon in a pleasure house that added further complexity to the situation. The marriage, arranged against her will, led to the birth of bastards, whom she attempted to pass as legitimate—a move not lost on the eyes of the court.

Despite Viserys's blindness, the court recognized the discrepancy in the children's Valyrian features. Whispers spread, hinting at a connection with Ser Harwing Strong, the Commander of the Gold Cloaks, who served closely under the Princess.

These choices made by Rhaenyra made Alicent bitter. The apparent disregard for duty exhibited by Rhaenyra, coupled with the ability to evade consequences, fueled Alicent's resentment. Yet, in the face of this, the legitimacy of the children born to Y/N and Alicent remained unquestionable. The unmistakable resemblance of each child to their father nullified any potential doubts that might have arisen.

As their children matured, distinct personalities emerged, painting a portrait of the Targaryen legacy. Aegon, the mischievous firstborn, delighted in playing pranks and causing mayhem within the castle. Despite occasional mischief, his loyalty to the family prevailed, a testament to the intricate balance of his character.

Helaena, their only daughter, embodied sweetness and warmth. Though closed off to many, she harbored a great heart, often murmuring riddles that, while dismissed by most, held significance to her parents who recognized her as a dreamer with visions of her own.

Aemond, a mirror image of his father, shared not only physical similarities but also akin personalities. The only distinction lay in Aemond's shyness. His passion for history forged a special bond with King Viserys, who favored the small Prince. Their shared love for learning brought them together in frequent discussions about the boy's recent discoveries.

The youngest, Daeron, charmed all who crossed his path, earning the title of the most popular son among their subjects. His charm and charisma propelled him to Oldtown, serving his mother's uncle as a cupbearer and squire.

Amidst the dynamic growth of their children, Y/N and Alicent's love stood resilient. Any hopes Rhaenyra harbored of a falling out between the couple were in vain; their bond, an indestructible force, continued to strengthen.

The visible strain within the ruling family had spilled beyond the walls of the Red Keep, earning them the titles of "blacks" and "reds" among the common folk and nobility alike. Y/N, recognizing the fractures within his family, attempted reconciliation with his younger sister, but Rhaenyra remained consumed by anger towards him for marrying another and harbored resentment for Alicent, his wife for being said woman. The rift seemed irreparable.

Despite the familial tensions, Y/N maintained a close involvement in the training of his sons, personally overseeing their progress with the assistance of Ser Criston Cole, who had shifted his allegiance from Rhaenyra to the royal family. Aegon and Aemond exhibited remarkable progress, overshadowing their cousins.

During a training session, as Ser Criston instructed the young princes, Y/N was reluctantly pulled away by the demands of his duties as the Heir. King Viserys, observing from the terrace, keenly followed the lesson. The knight, calling upon Aegon, challenged him to a sparring match and taunted, "Let's see if you can touch me. You and your brother." The confident Prince, Aegon, responded with a cocky assurance, "I've won my first bound, Ser Criston. My opponent sues for mercy."

Undeterred, Ser Criston introduced a new challenge, pitting both Aegon and Aemond against him. The two princes advanced, swords in hand, but the seasoned knight skillfully blocked each of their attacks, showcasing his experience and expertise. The training ground became a battleground of skills, the clash of steel echoing the intricate dynamics of power, loyalty, and the indomitable spirit of the Targaryen lineage.

The training ground, alive with the clang of swords and the shuffling of feet, fell into a momentary silence as Ser Harwin approached, offering instructions to the brown-haired princes. His voice redirected Ser Criston's attention toward the younger boys. "It seems like the younger boys could use your attention, Ser," Harwin remarked as he walked closer. A subtle tension hung in the air as Criston questioned, "Are you questioning my method of instruction?"

In response, Criston motioned for Aegon to face Jaecerys, declaring it an "eldest son against eldest son" spar. The white-haired Prince's age and strength became evident as he overpowered the younger Jaecerys. However, as Aegon advanced, he found himself roughly seized by the shoulder and pulled away by Ser Harwin. Aegon, outraged by the intervention, protested loudly, resulting in a reprimand from the King.

Tensions flared further when Criston began questioning the Commander of the Gold Cloaks's interest in the princes' training, suggesting affections that a man might harbor for his children. The insinuation proved too much for Ser Harwin, who snapped and attacked Criston. The incident led to Ser Harwin's banishment from King's Landing, and a few days later, he perished within the walls of Harrenhal along with his father.

More sorrowful news followed swiftly. A raven brought the grim information of Lady Laena Velaryon's death, casting a pall over King's Landing. The weight of Laena's death cast a somber shadow over Y/N, who had considered her another sister growing up. The entire family traveled to Driftmark to pay their respects, attending a funeral marred by Lord Vaemond's continuous accusations directed at Princess Rhaenyra and her bastard sons. Prince Daemon's laughter, strategically employed to deflect attention, added a layer of tension to the already heart-wrenching day.

Once the children retired for the night, Alicent found a moment to speak with her husband. In the quiet confines of their chamber, she gently inquired, "Are you alright, my love?" Y/N, standing by a window overlooking the view of Driftmark, confessed, "She was one of my closest friends, and she died alone. Without her family or friends, because Daemon denied her return. She didn't deserve such a fate."

Alicent, though not as intimately acquainted with Lady Laena, offered words of solace, acknowledging her bravery and kindness. Y/N, appreciating his wife's comforting presence, sighed and turned to look at her. "I'm sure you're right, darling," he said, caressing her face. In that moment, they found solace in each other's embrace, a comforting respite from the sorrow that permeated their hearts.

With a shared understanding, Y/N guided Alicent to bed, where they surrendered to the embrace of sleep, seeking refuge from the weariness that accompanied the emotional journey. Their intertwined forms, nestled in peaceful repose, reflected the enduring strength of their bond in the face of life's inevitable trials.

The tranquility that enveloped Y/N and Alicent was shattered abruptly when a maid, panic-stricken, banged on their door, delivering news of a grave accident involving their son. Swiftly dressing into presentable robes, they rushed towards the hall where their children were present. The sight that awaited them was horrifying—Aemond, their beloved son, was a bloody mess, missing an eye. Alicent's anguished scream pierced the air as she ran towards her injured child.

Demanding answers, Y/N interrogated the Knights, learning that the Prince had been mauled in a brawl with his cousins. The King, arriving on the scene, angrily questioned the guards for allowing such an incident. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys soon joined, but Y/N's attention shifted to the absence of Princess Rhaenyra. When she finally appeared, followed by Prince Daemon, their disheveled appearance hinted at a liaison that further fueled Y/N's anger. How could they disrespect Lady Laena's memory like this?

Amid the chaos, Rhaenyra declared the incident a "regrettable accident," but Alicent argued it was a planned attack. Rhaenyra defended her sons, claiming they were being attacked with vile insults against their legitimacy "Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned on where he heard such slanders". Y/N's anger flared; his sister intended to torture his gravely wounded son over a truth that was evident.

Rhaenyra's attempt to extract information from Prince Aemond, who had heard the alleged slanders, only heightened tensions. Y/N, protective of his son, forbade any harm to befell Aemond. As the King sought apologies and forgiveness, Alicent snapped, demanding justice and ordering the eye of Lucerys Velaryon to conduct it. Chaos ensued as Alicent, fueled by rage, advanced towards Rhaenyra with a knife. Y/N noticed his uncle making way to two women to undoubtedly aid Rhaenyra, which he couldn't let happen and stopped him before Daemon could reach her.

The struggle between Alicent and Rhaenyra unfolded, the room becoming a battleground of emotions and grievances. In the midst of the chaos, Aemond, now with one eye, offered comfort to his mother, stating "Don't mourn me mother. I might've lost an eye but I gained a dragon". Y/N joined the embrace, and as his father declared the matter over, the fractured family clung to the remnants of peace amidst the aftermath of pain and turmoil.

As the years unfolded, the Targaryen family found solace and unity in each other's company. Every meal became a cherished time for discussion, laughter, and shared moments, further strengthening the familial bonds that had weathered storms and emerged resilient.

Aegon and Helaena's marriage flourished, blessed with their two beautiful children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Aegon transformed into a caring and attentive husband, shedding his earlier tendencies to become the perfect Prince fit to one day ascend the throne. Aemond, despite the challenges posed by his limited vision, emerged as a formidable warrior under his father's tutelage. Determined not to be hindered by his condition, he trained with unparalleled dedication, surpassing many in skill and prowess.

Y/N and Alicent, beaming with pride, reveled in the achievements of their children. However, their joy was tempered by the somber responsibility that befell them. With King Viserys succumbing to sickness, he lay bedridden, casting a long shadow over the realm. The inevitable reality loomed—the time was approaching when a new monarch would ascend the throne.

Amidst the bittersweet echoes of Viserys's declining health, the Targaryen family stood united, ready to face the challenges that awaited them. The transition of power loomed on the horizon, and the legacy of House Targaryen stood at the threshold of a new chapter in the annals of Westeros.

The arrival of a raven bearing Ser Vaemond Velaryon's challenging petition for the Driftwood Throne thrust the Red Keep into a state of heightened anxiety. The assertion that Rhaenyra, Daemon, and their children would return to the heart of the realm brought a cloud of unease over the castle, especially given the recent mysterious death of Laenor Velaryon.

In the midst of the commotion, Alicent navigated through the corridors toward the King's chamber, where she knew Rhaenyra and Daemon would be discussing the pressing matter of King Viserys's condition. Upon entering, she greeted them with courtesy, acknowledging the lapse of time since their last encounter. Daemon responded with a nonchalant hum, while Rhaenyra inquired about the authority overseeing the trial of her son.

A new voice cut through the tension as Y/N entered, a smirk playing on his lips. He revealed himself as the authority presiding over the trial, promising a fair judgment even as he acknowledged the accusations thrown at his wife. The room held its breath, and Alicent, standing beside her husband, added, "We have pressing matters to attend to, but please, make yourself at home." With that, the married couple walked away, leaving the guests to navigate the looming trial and the shadows of familial discord that cast their pall over the Red Keep.

The throne room buzzed with tension as the petitions unfolded, each speaker presenting their case before Y/N, who sat on the throne in his father's stead. The weight of judgment rested heavily on his shoulders. Lord Vaemond Velaryon was the first to address the court, delivering a lengthy discourse on bloodlines and the survival of House Velaryon.

However, the proceedings took an unexpected turn when, during Rhaenyra's turn to present her defense, the door opened, and in walked King Viserys. Ready to defend his favorite child, the ailing monarch cast a shadow over the proceedings. The air thickened with anticipation as the confrontation unfolded.

In a swift and brutal turn of events, Vaemond found himself condemned for openly declaring the princess's sons as bastards. The throne room, once filled with the echoes of legal arguments, now bore witness to the irrevocable consequences of familial discord and political maneuvering. As the lifeblood of House Velaryon spilled in pursuit of power and legitimacy, the court faced the stark reality that the struggle for succession and survival could exact a heavy toll on those entangled in the webs of Westerosi politics.

The atmosphere in the dining hall was thick with tension, mirroring the strained relationships within the Targaryen family. Viserys, lying in his seat of honor, served as the symbolic divide between two estranged siblings, Rhaenyra and Y/N, as the air was charged with unspoken grievances.

Jace and Luke, Baela and Rhaena, each engaged in their own conversations, while Aegon and Helaena shared a tender moment, the Prince gently rubbing his wife's hand. Aemond and Daemon, ever vigilant, sat observing, their tension a reflection of the underlying conflicts.

As King Viserys was carried in, the room stood in a display of respect. The king began his speech, adressing his family. “It’s good to see you all together. My heart aches when I see the faces dearest to me so full of envy and drifting apart form each other. House of the Dragon must be united, so let us forget all and stay strong. If not for the realm, the for this old man, who loves you all dearly.“ But the damage had been done, and the fractures within the family ran too deep to be easily mended.

Rhaenyra's toast, seemingly a gesture of reconciliation, momentarily shifted the mood. Alicent responded gracefully, highlighting the common ground between them as mothers, but the facade of harmony was shattered by a seemingly innocent gesture—a pig brought before Prince Aemond, triggering memories of the Pink Dread incident.

Aemond's explosive reaction disrupted the fragile peace. The room fell into an uneasy silence as he stood, expressing a "final tribute" to the health of his nephews, ending the speech with an insult towards the boys calling them "Strong". Chaos erupted as the young princes clashed, and the adults scrambled to intervene. The disastrous dinner culminated in Princess Rhaenyra's decision to retreat to Dragonstone, leaving behind a shattered illusion of family unity. The scars of the past ran too deep, and the once-grand gesture of a family dinner had unraveled into a painful reminder of the irreparable divisions within House Targaryen.

The dimly lit corridors echoed with quiet footsteps as Y/N made his way to his father's chamber. Upon entering, a solemn atmosphere enveloped the room, and Y/N approached King Viserys. As he assisted the ailing monarch in preparing for sleep, Viserys muttered incoherent phrases, and amidst the confusion, Y/N discerned a recurring theme—Aegon's prophecy.

In the hushed moments of their interaction, the weight of impending succession hung in the air. Viserys, in his final moments, seemed to impart a significant task to his son, urging him to fulfill the prophecy. The murmurings faded as the night unfolded, and King Viserys the Peaceful drew his last breath.

As dawn approached, the realm awaited the news of a new leader who would step forward to succeed the late monarch. The corridors, once traversed by Y/N in anticipation, now held the echoes of transition and the uncertainty that accompanied the changing tides of leadership within House Targaryen.

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A/N: This one is slightly longer, but I couldn't help but give Alicent and her kids the husband and father they deserved. We all could agree that Viserys absolutely sucked in these roles. Thank you for all the support and it would mean the world to me if you checked out my other works ♡

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delusionalwritingsofagay · 2 months

Note

Hi could I get some young aemond crushing on his non identical twin brother headcanons.

Thank you 😊

Young Aemond Targaryen crushing on his non identical twin brother

Tags : Targcest

You and Aemond were made for each other, you were one soul in two bodies made by the gods, why else would they have made you twins or at least that what aemond believed.

In his eyes his twin was truly perfect and aemond was convinced that they would marry when they got older.

He didn't like the thought of you or him marrying somebody else but each other.

Aemond was incredibly protective and possessive over you to the point where Aegon would make fun of him for it along with everything else he made fun of him for.

He would constantly try and impress you during training with ser Criston when you were both there.

He barely left your side most days, not that you ever minded, You would study high Valyrian and history together or he would come and ride your dragon with you since he did not have one.

Since you were his comfort/safe space He always came to you or Alicent for comfort after Aegon and the strong bastards made fun of him.

He both enjoyed the fact that you were affectionate with him and hated at the same time. He enjoyed/loved it since you were his entire world and he wanted your attention and affection however he hated it at the same time because it sometimes flustered him or made his heart race.

you had a habit of grabbing his hand and holding it when you were dragging him places to show him whatever weird or interesting thing you had found or when you were nervous you would hold his hand or link your pinkies together subtly for comfort which made him flustered but also incredibly smug that you felt comforted by holding his hand.

He would do anything for you, you only had to ask. If you asked him to sneak into the red keep kitchens with you in the middle of the night to sneak a few honey cakes, he would do it without hesitation.

#x male reader #x male!reader #house of the dragon x male reader #house of dragon x male reader #house of dragons #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x male reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #ewan mitchell #hotd aemond #hotd season 2 #hotd

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bumblesimagines · 3 months

Text

One More Hour

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: He/Him/His

Summary: As a child, Jace learns the hard way not to mess with his young uncle, Aemond. However, as growing man, he can't help the newfound curiosity.

CW/TW: Targcest/incest (Jace and reader are uncle-nephew), typical Got and HOTD warnings, Jace might feel OOC, takes place in s1, unknown age gap but Jace is like 18/19 and (Y/N) in his early to mid twenties, kinda cheating? (Jace and Baela).

AAHEEEM.

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Jace could do nothing more than stare at his plate with his fists resting over his thighs, one ear listening to the annoying whispering from his uncle while the other desperately tried focusing on the conversations floating around the room. The tension had lessened significantly since everyone first settled down at the dining table for the first time in many years but it did little to prevent Aegon from being a bother. It certainly didn't help that across the table sat his other uncle, (Y/N), who watched the two of them with immense amusement.

He'd changed since Jace last saw him. No longer a child on the verge of teenagehood but a man-grown talented in sword fighting and the art of making ladies swoon. His silver locks looked vibrant in the warm candlelight and each time Jace glanced upward, his grew captivated with the twinkle of his violet eyes. (Y/N) appeared poised, relaxed and content, with a cup of wine in his hand that he occasionally sipped from as dinner continued. His eyes flickered between observing Jace and checking on his twin, Helaena.

Jace still vividly remembered the only proper interaction he'd ever had with (Y/N), for the Targaryen often kept to the library or hung around his twin whilst she worked on her embroideries or played with bugs. The two never strayed too far from one another, so much so that it'd surprised Jace when he'd heard the news of Helaena and Aegon's wedding.

It'd been a warm day full of joy and wonder as Jace and Luke had welcomed their newest baby brother into the family, a sleepy little newborn by the name of Joffery. Of course, despite the wonderful addition to their family, Jace and Luke had plotted with Aegon to prank their uncle, Aemond, whose dragon egg had refused to hatch in the cradle. It was a subject of teasing for them all, harmless and playful in Jace's opinion, but it seemed like not all believed a clumsily put together wings on a pig and offering it over to Aemond had been a fun prank.

Roughly fifteen minutes had passed and the boys all continued giggling and laughing about it, recounting the look on Aemond's face between snickers, when the door was pushed open and in walked (Y/N) with Helaena trailing behind, her hands cupped and cradling a spider. She barely batted an eye at them, even when (Y/N) strolled up to his older brother and slammed his knee into his groin, only muttering quietly to herself about things the boys couldn't quite understand.

Jace's amusement in Aegon's pain as he toppled over with a low groan was short-lived, as (Y/N)'s hand curled into a fist and swiftly connected with Jace's jaw. He'd landed the hit well and hard enough for Jace to topple onto the floor as well, crying out in pain as he held a hand to his slowly bruising jaw. Little Luke had attempted to jump to his brother's defense but his smaller frame was easily pushed onto the floor and angry tears sprang into his eyes.

In the end, Rhaenyra and Alicent had argued over who was in the wrong whilst King Viserys lectured them on fighting outside of training.

But Jace thought of the interaction often, thought of how cool (Y/N) had looked bringing his brother to his knees so easily. Even though his jaw tingled each time the two made eye contact, Jace couldn't help the awe that bubbled in his chest. (Y/N) appeared fully in his element, only observing and providing little input throughout dinner. Regal and with looks that spoke for themselves, such as the one he sent Aegon that forced the older boy back into his chair with a scowl. Otto smiled approvingly. The favorite of his grandchildren, Jace assumed.

Dinner, however, ended with an outburst covered up to be a speech from Aemond with thinly veiled insults. Their parentage had always been a sore topic for the Velaryon boys and his temper got the best of Jace, prompting him to lash out and cause a stirrup that forced the night to end with all the children instructed to head to their respective bedchambers.

Jace, of course, fumed all the way to his and Luke's temporary shared bedchambers, although he couldn't find a wink of sleep in his simmering anger and humiliation. Luke had already nearly been brought to tears when their blood had been put to question for courtiers to see by Vaemond Velaryon, they hardly needed a repeat. So, when sleep proved to be a hopeless desire, Jace slipped out into the halls and reacquainted himself with them until he noticed his uncle leaning against the railing of one of the balconies.

"Uncle," Jace greeted him quietly, the chill of the cool night air bringing goosebumps to his skin. (Y/N) spared him a glance, his attention more captivated by the sky. When Jace squinted through the dark and clouds above, he noticed the silhouettes of two dragons flying together, almost playing from the soft rumbles and half-hearted nips. "Dreamfyre and Grey Ghost get along well, it seems."

"Sometimes I wonder if they're bonded, as Helaena and I are." (Y/N) responded, his voice gentle and soothing to the ear. His eyes tracked the two dragons until they disappeared well above the clouds, finally diverting his attention to his nephew. Jace swallowed under his keen gaze. "The hour is late, Jacaerys, yet you are up."

"So are you."

"You've seen my reasons." (Y/N) nodded toward the sky. "What are yours, little prince?"

The heat that enveloped his face surprised Jace. "I... I could not sleep." He answered, and hoped the darkness around them hid his reddened skin from the Targaryen. Not many brought such a reaction to him. Sure, there were pretty ladies at court who caught his eye, his newly betrothed among them, but such intense heat...

"Aemond only meant to anger you and you gave him precisely what he wanted. He wishes to get even for what happened in our youth now that he's capable of protecting himself." The rings adorning his fingers glimmered in the moonlight, drawing Jace's gaze to them before it flickered back to his face.

"We were children." Jace insisted.

"But not toddlers incapable of knowing right from wrong." (Y/N) lifted his brows and Jace fell silent, cheeks puffing out slightly when he scoffed quietly. The Targaryen reached out toward him, fingertips grasping his jaw and running along it until they reached the exact spot his knuckles had met years prior. He grinned. "I taught you a lesson because of it, didn't I, sweet nephew?"

Jace shivered, unable to tell if the goosebumps were still from the cold or his touch. The cool metals of his rings pressed against Jace's warm skin, the designs engraved in them leaving marks when his hold tightened. His instincts screamed at him to pull away, to create distance between himself and (Y/N), for the gleam in his violet eyes only spelled trouble. Jace remained still, however, unable to break away from the trance.

"Velaryon seed is strong," (Y/N) murmured, his hand moving to touch the brown strands Jace had inherited from his real father, from Harwin Strong. He'd accepted it long ago. He was no fool. If Laenor Velaryon had truly been his father, he and his brothers would share the signature Targaryen look; those beautiful silver locks. "You are no Velaryon, Jace. But your mother's blood makes you a Targaryen."

"I was raised Velaryon." Jace nearly growled despite the feelings swirling inside him. "My father, Laenor, cared for us-"

"Fuss all you want, Jace. We all know the truth." (Y/N) clicked his tongue and drew closer, hand slipping back to grab his jaws again and hold them, fingertips sinking into his skin with an iron grip that'd likely leave questionable bruises. His lips curled upward in some twisted mix of delight and curiosity. "You may not be Velaryon but you are pretty. I'm sure Father would've insisted you and I wed if you'd been born a lady." He leaned in close enough for their noses to bump and whispered lowly, "You would've been swollen with a babe by now if that'd been the case."

Jace gaped at him, heat spreading through his body like dragonfire and making his breeches abruptly feel far too tight. His brows knitted together and his hands flew up to slam against (Y/N)'s chest. His uncle willingly released him and stepped back with a short laugh that echoed through the hall. "What makes you think I would've wished for that?" He bristled despite the redness on his cheeks and aching in his stomach.

"Look at yourself, darling nephew," (Y/N) cooed, invading Jace's personal space again and forcing him against the railing, the roughness of the stone pressing against Jace's palms when he clung onto it. A strangled gasp escaped the brunette when (Y/N)'s hands grasped the underside of his thighs and lifted them, pressing Jace against him. Jace failed to swallow the whimper in his throat when (Y/N) moved his hips against him. Fear invaded his veins at the realization (Y/N) could easily push him over the edge and into an untimely death but it mixed deliciously with everything else.

"You-"

"What is it, Jace? You look so red." (Y/N) snickered. He truly was the brother of Aemond and Aegon. "Imagine what sweet Baela would think if she saw you like this. I'm sure she'd be horrified and humiliated by her future husband."

"Fuck you." Jace spat, the grooves and bumps in the railing digging into the skin of his hand. (Y/N) quirked a brow and released Jace's thighs, making him stumble as he regained his footing and released a heavy exhale of relief. His uncle clasped his hands behind his back and chuckled again.

"If that's how you feel, nephew, then I'll bid you goodnight. Safe travels." (Y/N)'s smile morphed into one that could be mistaken for genuine and kind before he turned and headed down the hall to his bedchambers. Jace stared after him, feeling breathless and angry and so annoyingly aroused.

Digging his teeth into his lip, he peeled himself from the railing and followed the older prince to his bedchambers, his annoyance growing at the way (Y/N) ignored his presence yet allowed him inside his bedchambers. The door slid to a close behind him and Jace's heart fluttered at the smirk (Y/N) sent him over his shoulder. Jace lunged forward, bawling up the collar of his shirt in his hands and tugging him closer, their lips slamming together and teeth almost clacking.

(Y/N)'s bit Jace's lip hard enough to draw a trickle of blood and leaned back. "Behave." He huffed at him. Jace smirked, the blood smearing on his teeth.

"I don't think so."

It'd been a near hour later when sleep finally crawled up his spine and threatened to lull him into a deep slumber. His lips felt swollen and tinted red from blood; the skin across his body was littered with suckled bruises and teeth marks; his jaw and hips ached with a burn Jace had never felt before; his throat felt hoarse and in desperate need of rest. Thoroughly exhausted and with the events at dinner temporarily erased from his mind, just as he wanted.

(Y/N) remained laying on top of him with his chest pressed to Jace's back and made no move to release Jace from his tight hold. Jace hardly minded despite the aching and the part of him that whined for milk of the poppy to soothe him. His cheek nuzzled against the spit and sweat-drenched pillow, hardly paying attention to anything other than the feeling of (Y/N) on and in him.

"What a shame." (Y/N) purred teasingly, his breath tickling Jace's ear. "I thought it'd take a little more to break you."

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