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evagreen-stories · 4 months ago

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Mother’s madness | (Aemond x f!lowborn!reader) (3/?)

Summary: Aemond, troubled by his unfruitful marriage and the stress of the war, takes himself a bed slave when he seizes Harrenhal and gets more attached to her than he ever thought possible. Bringing her to the Red Keep after he needs to leave Harrenhal would not go as he hoped it would, especially after the birth of the babes he sired onto her.

Warnings: mentions of violence, light angst (kinda?), canon typical misogyny, canon typical behaviour, dark!aemond, abusive!aemond, forced relationship, forced impregnantion, canon typical classicism, mentions of assault, stockholm syndrom (kind of), non-canon storyline

Author's note: Short little chapter but at last, an update!

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

< part 2 masterlist

By the time Aemond had made all his reports, listened to the yappings of all the council members and sat through hours of further strategy planning, he wanted to rip out each strand of his hair.

It was hard for him to focus already, the worries over his precious bed slave and her madness over their, over his, sons had all but consumed every part of his mind, and yet, odd stares from his mother and grand maester Orwyle made him all the more restless.

Finally, the council meeting was concluded and the Lords left the room. Aemond would watch in silence as Criston helped the struggling king to his feet and down the stairs.

Aegon had been burned and injured gravely during the battle at Rooks Rest over a year ago where Meleys had ingulfed him and his dragon in dragonfire, but he was growing more and more capable these days and managed to attend the council meetings from time to time.

Still, Aemond remained the prince regent, but would sit opposite of the king’s seat at the foot of the long wooden table whenever his brother was in attendance.

From there, he watches as neither his mother nor Orwyle made any attempts to move from their seats, just as he didn’t.

Sitting in tense silence for several moments, Aemond eventually fixates on the elder man to his right. Glaring at him, his voice is little more than a growl, he asks,

“Care to explain to me what is going on with my mistress?”

Orwyle takes a moment to answer, shifting nervously in his seat and glancing to the dowager queen sitting opposite of him before turning his attention back to the prince regent.

“Your mistress, my prince, would appear to suffer from some sort of birth induced mania. It happens from time to time, unfortunately.” He states before carefully adding. “Mothers of such circumstance… they should be separated from the child. They are unable to care for the babes and may harm them during manic episodes.”

Aemond’s face hardens, his jaw clenching. “She is perfectly capable to care for my sons. I have gone to meet her already. I do not believe for a moment she suffers from true madness.”

“She does.” Alicent speaks up. “She would chase anyone out of her room, preferably with the nearest sharp object in hand. Your whore is incapable of caring for your sons.”

“That is a lie!” Aemond snaps his head to her. “What would you even know of this? She and what I do with her is none of your concern, I have told you so a hundred times already.”

“I am your mother. Mind your tongue when talking to me.” The red-haired woman hisses before continuing. “I am also the dowager queen and queen mother. With the queen still occupied in her grief, the Red Keep is my responsibility in your absence. That makes your whore and her spawn my responsibility as well. I needed to deal with the drama she caused. Had she not locked herself away I can assure you, this matter would have long been settled already.”

“Settled?” Aemond scoffs. “And what would that have looked like? Taken my sons from her? And then what?”

“Most certainly. And she must receive treatment-“

“Treatment? What would your great treatment entail?”

“Treatment varies from individual to individual. It remains to be seen what methods work best on her. Is that not right, grand maester?” Alicent urges Orwyle to speak up.

“…yes. Yes, your grace. It is difficult to predict which treatments will work best on her.” The man nods softly.

Aemond was well aware of how maesters would attempt to cure madness. Their methods would be torturous. His own methods of bringing her into full submission when he first claimed her would seem tame in comparison. His stomach turns at the thought of what they would have done to her in his abscence had she not kept her door locked at all times.

“You will do no such thing.” Aemond growls. “No one but me touches her. No one but me will make any decision on any treatments. She is not mad. The babes are healthy. There is no need to intervene.”

“Now they are. But they weren’t always. Your children should be supervised by maesters not by some deranged lowborn.” Alicent retorts.

Aemond furrows his brows, looking at his mother in disbelief. His y/n hadn’t said anything of the sorts. “Now? Now? What is that supposed to mean?”

After another nod from the dowager queen, Orwyle explains, “It… appears we might have miscalculated the day of conception. The babes came early, it seems. Weak, very small, frail. It borders on a miracle the boys live, my prince.”

Aemond stares at him dumbfounded. He held his sons just a few hours earlier, they seemed well. Plumb, full of life. Not just that, he himself had been there when they conceived. He was sure his seed took the very first night that he dragged her to his bed near a year ago. He had watched her belly swell even before he brought her here to the Red Keep.

It made no sense the babes were born sickly when not a single issue had been encountered before. Not even when she was going about her duties of tending to him with little struggle. Well, as long as she could sit down, lay on her side and not have to bend over, that is.

The maesters voice brings him out of his thoughts. “It is best the babes be closely supervised by maesters and raised by experienced nursemaids and wetnurses. Your… mistress should not have them. Mad or not, she will not be able to provide your sons with the care they need to survive.”

Aemond had always been a stubborn man. Perhaps it was his thick head that made him refuse the maesters urging, or perhaps it was his trust is his little bed slave that did so. She was a pure hearted woman, her heart soft. She had learned her new place in life quickly, she had not once betrayed him or given him any reason to doubt her.

She had nothing to gain from lying to him but everything to lose.

She was so convinced of the maesters wanting to steal their children, it could not be a mistake. She would not beg him for help and forgo all formalities with him unless she was truly afraid.

Aemond’s thoughts and emotions were in turmoil now, struggling to discern the truth between y/n’s words, the words of his mother and the grand maester, and the facts he knew to be true.

Staring off at the empty king’s chair in the distance, his voice is little more than a murmur when he asks, “What do you even care for? She’s nothing but a whore in your eyes. You see my sons as bastards only. Why do you care for what happens to them?”

Aemond freezes at his mother’s following shameless reply. He can’t believe she would just state something like this as if it was nothing unusual. It would seem little more than an odd phrasing of words to some but with his suspicions in mind, it's all the confirmation he needs.

“She is a whore, yes. She has seduced you so she can live in luxury far above her station. You’re just a foolish young man with no control of his urges. But… the fact remains that you have no heir. With only a daughter and no sons, they could be of good use to you had you done your wife the courtesy of putting them into her belly instead.”

His gaze cold as ice, he stares at her, never once looking away as he growls. “So it’s true what y/n says? That you plan to steal my sons from her and give them to Floris?”

Alicent seems taken aback, her surprised expression shortly finding Orwyle’s startled one before quickly moving back to her son. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y/n.” Aemond says firmly. “She says she has heard someone say it. That you tasked the maesters to take my sons from her and give them to Floris.”

Alicent remains quiet for a while before her own face hardens. Straightening her posture and keeping her hands clasped firmly in front of her on the table, she begins to lecture her son.

“You have a lady wife, Aemond. A respectable, honorable lady wife of high birth. Princess Floris has given you a daughter already and served you faithfully.” She begins. “The only thing you still need is a legitimate son. With your wife’s recent stillbirth during your absence, it would be easy to arrange so. Give your whore’s sons to her. Or just one, even. You can pass him off as hers and have your-“

“ENOUGH!” Aemond roars, his fists slamming onto the table as he stands up, the chair loudly scraping across the floor. “I will not hear of this! How DARE you try and steal my sons from y/n!”

Alicent’s face remains resolute, her chin held up high in defiance, while Orwyle looks like he wants to vanish beneath the floor.

“I did what needed to be done. Stop coddling your whore, Aemond. Let her pay back for living on the crown’s cost and causing your lady wife distress. Let her produce the boys and you make them heirs, as the sons of you and Princess Floris.”

Mouth hanging open, Aemond can barely believe what his mother is saying. “If anyone has gone mad here, it is you, not her.” He says firmly. “I cannot believe you would betray me like this. Go against my orders, willing to harm my y/n.”

He glares down at his mother as he continues, “Floris will not have my sons. She does NOT deserve them. She has failed me. Failed as my wife, failed as a woman. My mistress has done within a year what that bitch of a wife could not manage in five. Y/n will keep my sons and all other children I will put into her belly and all of them will be made my heirs. Not as Floris’s children, but as y/n’s. I will legitimize them at once and have them declared as my heirs.”

“Have you lost your mind?!” Alicent is the one yelling now. “You cannot do that! Think of the shame that it would bring to your wife! Of how it will disrupt our ally with the Baratheon’s!”

“She is the one that brings shame to me!” Aemond shouts back, his face filled with pure rage and hatred. “It is her failing that has made me the laughingstock across the realm! Made me the maimed prince whose cock does not work! Now they will no longer laugh, now that I have my sons! Lord Borros praised me her fertility but delivered a woman unable to carry a child properly. It is his own doing our alliance has faltered. He will not speak against my y/n or our sons. He will accept them as my heirs. He will remain loyal to our side or I will personally fly south and turn Storm’s End into a second Harrenhal!”

With that, Aemond throws the nearest cups and parchments off the table before turning on his heel to make his way out the door, curses at his mother and wife flowing out his mouth as he does so.

In his rage, Aemond makes his way to the training yard, the urge to stab one of the dummies repeatedly or challenge one of the poor squires to a duel overwhelming him.

< part 2 masterlist

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 2 years ago

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Finally, Always, & Forever ~Dark!Miss Peregrine xFem Immortal!Reader

@athenodora-sulpicia-writer Request- Miss Peregrine; If you do can you write a one shot with the numbers, 2, 60 and 62 from your Mummy Masterlist all for a female reader/character? And if you write it about Miss Peregrine can you make it dark Miss P?

Hey @athenodora-sulpicia-writer !! Thanks for the request and your patience 😊 I had fun researching Miss P and now I’m happy to say that I can write for her! I got some inspiration from @valentineisrotting on this one 🙃 And I also found a Stela Cole song to go along with it! To me, Love Like Mine appeals to the dark and sacrificial nature of Miss P’s love in this plus the “I’m so good that I’ll make you wanna stay up” line😫 (and much more but that’s the main point). Hope you Enjoy 💋

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#2. “Be a good girl and tie yourself to the bed posts”

#60. “You broke the rules…”

#62. “I might do something I’ll regret…”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, little angst, little fluff, forbidden love (sort of but not really), kissing, eating out, fingering, punishment, overstimulation, gagging, mistress kink, praise kink, implied degrading kink, implied age gap (all legal), etc.

Enjoy (;

She’d told you to never visit. Not that she didn’t want you to… Hell, she longed for you to. No, because she was afraid they’d catch you.

See, you had what the scientists longed for… True Immortality. That was your peculiarity. You weren’t a simple child anymore, and if had gotten harder and harder to conceal with time. So out of preservation of both your lives, Alma had forbid you from coming to see her in her loops. It was letters only.

But once you’d heard of her loop nearly being damn near destroyed… You couldn’t help the urge to run into the arms of your lover to see if all was well.

You had heard from a friend that Miss Peregrine and her peculiar children had found a new home near New Zealand. So you travelled there and lo and behold, you found the rumored loop and house corresponding with it. You entered and walked through the front gate.

And next to the front door, talking to one of her children, stood the one and only, Alma Peregrine. You suddenly felt all childish again. You’d broken her only rule. But you didn’t care enough about that right now.

As you stood there from afar, mouth agape at your lover, Alma sensed something in the air had changed. You had started to walk up the front path to the house, when her gaze caught yours. A myriad of emotions washed over face.

Anger. Sadness. Pure joy. A little lust…?

As you walked up the house steps, Alma sent her child inside.

Before she could say anything, you began, “I know you told me… not to come… but…” you found yourself a stuttering mess, “but then I heard about you almost getting killed…?! And I just thought that I needed to know you were alright…”

Your gaze met hers as you hit your lips and blushed, unsure what she would do. Suddenly, it was like something broke inside the raven haired goddesses eyes. You gasped lightly as you were suddenly in her tight embrace.

“I was so worried for you…” she whispered.

Your eagerly returned her hug. Her lips peppering kisses all over your face and neck.

“Me? I was worried for you… Are you safe now…?” You whispered.

She nodded and pulled away slightly, growing more distant all of a sudden. Her gaze becoming darker.

“Love…?”

“Even though we’re safe now… You still broke the rules, my dear…”

Your breath hitched slightly. Light blush crept up your cheeks as you apprehensively nodded in recognition of your disobedience.

“I might do something I’ll regret…” She warily warned you.

Afterall, she hadn’t seen you in ages. And now she was getting a chance to lay hands on you once more. At her full Control. She wanted to check in with you first.

“I don’t care.” You whispered, “Use me. Fuck me. Edge me. I’m yours.”

At that, she smirked and nodded, her hand crept up your shoulder, as she brought her lips to the shell of your ear.

“Second floor, last door on the right…” she husked, “Be a good girl and tie yourself to the bed posts…”

Your breath hitched yet again.

“Yes mistress…” you whimpered, scurrying into the house and up the stairs.

You didn’t even register to explain your presence to her children, whom you passed along the way. Luckily, Alma had you covered on that front. As you stripped and dug around her closet for her signature black lace ties, Alma explained to her children a bit about you and your presence here.

When she came into her room, you were struggling in tying your second wrist to the bedposts. You’d already ties both your feet and your left wrist. The raven haired beauty chuckled lightly, and shutting the door, she came over to you.

“Let me help you, dear…” she purred, easily tying your wrist to the bedpost.

You and she both knew this was the nicest she was going to get tonight. After that, her tone and gaze went straight dark. The kind of darkness that made your thighs clench and your breath shallow… She then moved to the edge of the bed, taking in your entire form.

“You broke the rules…” she repeated, this time with an sharp edge to her tone.

You gulped.

“I did, mistress.” You whimpered, squirming under your restraints.

She hummed in satisfaction of your recognition.

“I haven’t touched you in ages…” she wickedly purred, licking her lips.

Even after all this time, it wasn’t hard to remember that she liked verbal answers…

“No, you haven’t, mistress…” you breathily whimpered.

“Safe words?”

“Green for good, yellow for pause, red for stop, and three taps for stop if I can’t speak.”

The raven haired woman hummed in recognition and then began stripping in front of you without another word. You whimpered lightly at the sight of her body, adorning a jaw-dropping sleek, black lingerie set. Your little sounds did not go unnoticed by the other woman. She then climbed on the bed, crawling on top of you.

“You’ll have to be quiet. I won’t have the children hearing your leud sounds.” She warned, “I will gag you if you can’t keep those pretty lips closed.”

You nodded vigorously, pursing your lips together tightly.

~~~

You knew she would punish you for breaking her rules, but fuck…

Why did she have to be so fucking skilled at it…?!

Her tongue dipped into your precious cunt tasting the juices of yet another orgasm which she had pulled out of you. You were a shaking, stuttering mess, who was desperately trying to stay quiet. But your head fell back in pure bliss as her tongue slotted itself inside your core once more.

“Fuck yessssss…” you hissed, tugging on your restraints.

At this, Alma cocked her head up and removed her tongue fully from your heated center. You hit back the whimper which was bound to try and escape you. The raven haired goddess then got up without another word and grabbed your knickers, shoving them in your mouth and effectively gagging you.

~~~

The stamina of this woman, you couldn’t…

She’d been bringing you over the edge for hours, punishing you with the double edged sword of overstimulation. One particular lick to your sensitive and puffy clit, sent you spiraling and spasming. Your back arched and you screamed into your knickers in response.

“Yes, sweet girl, I know your mistresses tongue feels so good. But why are you crying, sweet thing…?” She taunted.

She wasn’t wrong… Your mascara was running down your face. All from the pure utter, overstimulating bliss the woman as bringing you.

“You asked for this when you decided to break the rules…” she wickedly purred, attaching her hot mouth to your clit and sucking harshly.

A desperate cry of painful pleasure left your throat.

“Is this too much for you…?” She taunted, attaching her mouth back quickly on your clit.

You nodded vigorously, pulling tightly against your ties, your body spasming at her touch. But she firmly held your thighs for her easy access.

“That’s odd… look at how your dripping on my tongue…” She chuckled wickedly.

You let out a particularly desperate whine, which was easily muffled by your make shift gag.

“But that’s ok, sweet thing…” She lustfully purred, “If you keep crying like that your mistress will let you cum in her mouth however many times you’d like…”

New tears of pleasure streamed down your face as she brought you to yet another climax, leaving your throat sore and your legs trembling.

“My pretty crybaby…” she cooed while cleaning you up only to go down on your dripping cunt once more.

~~~

Aftercare was a staple for Alma. So when she was done with you, she gently scooped your fragile form up and carried you to her bathtub. She ran the water and then promptly joined you, making sure to live on you and clean you up proper. Then, the two of you snuggled in the water for a while. You nuzzled into her form lovingly.

“Missed you so much…” you murmered into the crook of her neck.

“I missed you too…” Alma whispered, kissing your nose affectionately, “You don’t ever have to leave again, my Dear…”

“I’m yours. Always and Forever…” you murmured, drifting off into a light slumber in Alma’s arms.

~~~

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rtfics · 2 months ago

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"Baby, Mine" continues.

A year and four months ago I said I was stepping away from writing my AO3 fic, Baby, Mine.

I'm back to say I'm going to finish it.

Ever since Michael Keaton came back in the spotlight due to Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, which I love, I've been thinking about V.A. Vandevere and playing with the idea of completing Baby, Mine. But I assumed there was no one left who wanted to read it. A story really can't fully live unless it's read.

Well, thanks to several readers who left comments, I now know there are people who want me to continue. This surprised the hell out of me and made me tear up.

So on the days I'm not working on my professional fiction, when I need some fun and an escape, I'm going to write Baby, Mine. I've always known how it was going to end, so the outline is already done. There will be about 3, maybe 4 more chapters (guessing). When I'm ready to post the next chapter, I'll remove the author's notes chapters and replace them with the real chapters. So the new chapter will be Chapter 13.

This may take a while, since I'm busy. I have to ask for your continued patience!

I want to especially thank @liquidloz for compliments I don't feel I deserve but I thankfully accept. I'm finishing this fic particularly due to you, just so you know. Anyone who gets sick of my posting about this fic has to blame her. She also writes on AO3!

I particularly want to thank @victorianwestpiano, for being a die-hard Dumbo 2019 fan when everyone else disappeared. And she writes great fanfic! Check out her stories on AO3! (I think you'll like what I do with Holt ;-)

And I want to thank every single reader who took the time to read my fic, even though it's unfinished. I hope the story will end in a way that you feel was worth the wait.

Oh, I'm so happy to see these guys again. :-)

Baby, Mine on AO3.

#michael keaton #va vandevere #v.a. vandevere #dumbo 2019 #dumbo live action #tim burton #colin farrell #danny devito #eva green #fanficiton #fanfics #fanfiction on AO3

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yelenablshop · 6 months ago

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Someone just messaged me asking what I was doing

How do I explain this

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cherryxsapphic · 2 years ago

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It's 3 a.m. again, so let the Shenanigans begin!! 💖

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆ 𓆩♡𓆪 ⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

but imagine it's storming outside and you're trying to find safe place to stay after getting chased relentlessly by a hollow. Your whole entire outfit is absolutely soaked and damaged from running through the forest and the raging storm outside. Then as you finally calm down and begin walking you start to notice a specific cave and you're like hey nothing could go wrong if you went through the cave right so why not. (we love curious George) as you go through the cave there's a super bright light because you know it's the Sun! but anyways as you stroll along you find a magnificent Victorian house you then run up to it thinking that you finally found some shelter and who knows maybe someone that might live there could help you out.

Before you could even knock the door quickly opens, you're greeted by gorgeous woman with eyes that you could compare to a hawk (I'm so funny) you can't even get a single word out not only because she's beautiful but because she doesn't let you.

"Ah I've been expecting you."

She then pulls out her hand in what you thought was a handshake so you naively held out your hand and with a smile on your lips.

Unnoticed to you the woman simply smirked as she grabbed your hand you were yanked inside never to be seen again. 🥰

"You're mine now."

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆ 𓆩♡𓆪 ⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

Sadly it is not in fact 3 am anymore but I hope you enjoyed this!!💫💕💫

#alma peregrine #alma peregrine x reader #mphfpc #fanfic #angelique bouchard #dark shadows #vanessa ives #penny dreadful #colette marchant #dumbo 2019 #eva green #explorepage

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m4movies · 10 months ago

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Eva Green

#untitled #007 #noir #romanpolanski #pic of the day #classic #hitchcockmovies #feetfinder #cinema #eva green #300 movie #king leonidas #queen gorgo x reader #300 x reader #leonidas x reader #movie fanfic #300 rise of an empire #movie #frank miller

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jacobblack3751009 · 2 years ago

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Moonlit Promises

The night was alive with a gentle breeze as [Y/N], having adjusted to his existence as a vampire, planned a special date for his beloved witch, Angelique Bouchard. They stood at the edge of Widow's Hill, the moon casting a soft glow upon the crashing waves below.

As [Y/N] looked into Angelique's mesmerizing eyes, a mischievous smile played upon his lips. He reached out to take her hand, his touch sending sparks of electricity through their connection. It was a symbol of the love and affection they shared, a reminder that their lives were intertwined in a dance of fate.

"Shall we, my enchanting witch?" [Y/N] asked, a playful glint in his eyes. "A night of secrets, confessions, and promises awaits us."

Angelique's lips curved into a knowing smile as she accepted his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. "Lead the way, my charming vampire. I am eager to share our pasts and create a future together."

They strolled along the cliff's edge, their footsteps echoing against the crashing waves. The moonlight painted a path before them, guiding them towards an intimate spot where they could lay bare their souls.

Seated on a weathered bench, [Y/N] and Angelique gazed out at the vast expanse of the ocean. The wind whispered through their hair, carrying their words into the night. With every passing moment, their connection grew stronger, building a foundation of trust and understanding.

They spoke of their pasts, the broken pieces that had brought them together. [Y/N] shared the struggles he had faced as a mortal, the loneliness and despair that had consumed him. Angelique revealed the pain of rejection, the scars left by a world that had feared her unique abilities. They bared their souls, finding solace in the knowledge that they were not alone in their strife.

In the vulnerability of their confessions, a newfound appreciation blossomed. They had found each other amidst the chaos, two broken souls coming together to form a bond that defied expectations. It was a love story born out of the ashes of their pasts, a love that mended their wounded hearts.

As the night grew deeper, the moon cast a radiant glow upon their faces. [Y/N] reached out, his hand caressing Angelique's cheek. With a tender expression, he whispered, "In you, I found the missing piece of my existence, the light that guides me through the shadows. Our lives may have been screwed before, but together, we create a tapestry of love and resilience."

Angelique's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she leaned into his touch, her voice filled with sincerity. "With you, my dear vampire, I have discovered a love that mends the broken, a love that weaves hope into our shared destiny. Our pasts may have scarred us, but they have led us to this moment, where we can heal and grow together."

Under the moonlit sky, their lips met in a passionate kiss, sealing their promises and igniting a fire within their souls. In that embrace, time stood still, and the world around them faded away, leaving only their love and the eternal bond they had forged.

As they broke apart, their breaths mingling, they smiled at each other, knowing that their journey was just beginning. Hand in hand, they rose from the bench, their hearts intertwined as they continued their walk along Widow's Hill, under the watchful gaze of the moon.

With every step, their love deepened, a beacon of light illuminating the darkness. Together, as vampire and witch, they would face the challenges of their immortal lives, united in

a love that defied the odds.

And as they walked, the moon bathed them in its soft glow, a witness to their unwavering love, a testament to the endless possibilities that awaited them in the embrace of the night.

#eva green #angelique bouchard #dark shadows #fanfic #oneshot #angelique bouchard x male reader

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scrollf0x · 1 year ago

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!!Fanfic Alert!!

Cracks im Mädchen

Cracks (2009) & Madchen in uniform (1958) crossover fanfic

Summary:

Within the confines of a strict, all-girls English boarding school in circa 1910s, a clique students participate on the swim team not only to pass the time, but to be close to their swimming instructor, the enigmatic, yet charismatic, Miss G. While Miss G originally encourages their idolization and crack (crush) on her, the teachers attention is quickly focused on the arrival of an orphaned German aristocrat pupil, Fiamma Meinhardis. As the new girl rebuffs her classmates, further rejects Miss G's interest and grows closer to her reserved German Literature instructor Miss Elisabeth, her teammates begin to grow jealous of Miss G's fascination with Fiamma, and resent the latter's distain of their instructor and increasing fondness over Miss Elisabeth, accumulated in the inexplicable disappearance of the two professors, and Fiamma.

#cracks 2009 #madchen in uniform #ao3 fanfic #Student teacher relationship #Lili Palmer #eva green

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venussaidso · 6 months ago

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I just remembered that they share the same nakshatra lords on their top 3 placements (including a nakshatra and a double whammy) and now I can't stop thinking about them & their onscreen potential.

Eva Green has Punarvasu Sun while Krysten Ritter has Purva Bhadrapada Ascendant. Then Eva Green has Ashwini Moon and Magha Ascendant, while Krysten Ritter has Magha Moon and Mula Sun.

The idea of them in the same scene is quite mystifying because they're also so different. Their lunar mansions sets them far apart, proving the distance between Ashwini and Magha (and Punarvasu and Purva Bhadrapada). Eva Green is just the weirdest between the two to me, like the hardest to pin down.

Give them a Magha-themed plot and also have them as best friends with sapphic undertones to make a whole fandom pump out fanfics I'd be so down for that.

#random #astrology #vedic astrology

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itsawritblr · 9 months ago

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I can't believe it's been 5 years! Half a decade! Happy 5th anniversary, Dumbo! (This is a very good tribute, especially having done it on your cellphone!)

I too still love this movie, flaws and all. If only Tim Burton had made this a mini series! He'd have had the time and space to leave in all the good parts cut from the script (which are in the novelization).

This was the first time I ever saw Colin Farrell and Eva Green, and it was a great introduction. Michael Keaton was marvelous chewing up the scenery; he'd never done a character like this before, and he was great.

The production design and costumes deserved Oscar nominations. I'm very pissed that it didn't get any. Dreamland is an amazing creation of imagination. I wish it were real!

I miss my Ship (Villy: V.A. Vandevere x Milly Farrier age 18). I still want to finish my fanfic, but I have other things I need to write! Someday, perhaps . . .

Baby, Mine on AO3.

So, 5 years since this movie came out. And I still love it, even if I can't express it with words. ;)

I wish I could've done a better 5 year aniversary tribute but I dont have my laptop with me right now so just doing it with my cellphone.

Happy 5th year aniversary Dumbo 2019 and happy Good Friday to all of you!

#writblr #Dumbo 2019 #Dumbo live action #fanfiction #Michael Keaton #fanfic #Eva Green #Colin Farrell #Danny DeVito #Alan Arkin #Tim Burton #Disney #Disney live action #Ship #Dumbo

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evagreen-stories · 4 months ago

Text

Mother of the Realm | (Daemon x f!noble!reader) (part 1/?)

Summary: Left behind after the blacks take King's Landing, Aemond’s Lady-Wife finds herself striking a certain arrangement with the rogue prince to guarantee her and her children's safety, though strange occurrences should change the conditions of this arrangement drastically.

Warnings: dark!themes, dubcon/coercion, warcrimes, dark!daemon, age gap, time typical gender roles, lactation kink, breeding kink, p in v, throat fuck, canon typical behaviour, slight degradation, mentions of noncon/forced pr0stitution, mentions of violence, mention of arranged marriage

Non-Canon Storyline: : two years into the civil war, reader (young Lady of house Celtigar) married to Aemond, the war drags on for longer than in canon

Disclaimer: This Fic is written on the basis that most of what mushroom says is true! The story came to me in a fever dream and I felt like typing it out lol. This storyline is mixed of book / hearsay / imagination; I tried to write it all out in a way that makes sense and is easy to follow.

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

my masterlist series moodboard series masterlist

It's the dance of the dragons, the war has been going on for two years and has escalated to new dimensions of destruction and violence, with the blacks now having invaded and taken over Kings Landing and the Red Keep where you, the lady wife of Aemond Targaryen, live as well.

Married a year before the dance of dragons began, you have given him two sons already; a young boy of 26 months old, Rhaegar, and a babe of 11 months, Baelor, and are with your third; four months along, the maester’s presume.

Most green supporters were now locked in cells while you and your children were imprisoned in your chambers; a privilege you received as you are the only daughter of Lord Bartimos Celtigar, a loyal supporter of the blacks.

Who knows, had your father not been swayed by the sweet words and reassurances of queen Alicent, hadn’t fallen trap into accepting the marriage proposal to Aemond in an effort of hers to sway your house’s loyalty in favour of her side, perhaps then you would now be standing on the other side of this door as a free woman.

Instead, your own husband had kept you surveilled at all times ever since the war began, in fear you would run away and join the blacks, and had forbidden you from leaving the Red Keep ever since his return from Storm’s End where he had gone to secure a betrothal for his younger brother Daeron to one of the Baratheon girls; an endavour that would end with the death of Lucerys Velaryon and jump-start the most brutal civil war seen to date.

Followed by at least one kings guard as soon as you stepped out of your chambers, the presence of your husband and the freedom to roam the gardens and halls had made it easy to forget your new house rules on most days.

With the confinement you had found yourself in ever since the war began you had turned all your attention and efforts into becoming the best and most loving mother you could be. A desire perhaps fueled by the clear preference of your own mother towards your brothers.

You wanted to be better than that. You studied books and listened to old wives' tales ever since you had flowered, knowing it wouldn’t be long until you would be wed off to fulfil your duty as a proper lady-wife.

And fulfil your duty you would. Unlike most other nobles you had taken to not employing a wet nurse or nursemaids at all.

Being made prisoner in your own home freed up all your time to be able to do so. Your sons would sleep in your chambers and be on your lap all day long. Both had only ever drank your milk, knowing no other chest but their mother’s.

And yet, what had once been a cage with thin, golden bars and a nice view, had now turned into one of thick stone walls, the confinement of your chambers only being eased by the presence of your two young children.

The days were long alone, yet more peaceful for you than you had expected them to be. Even if your father had not come to see you once, you did speak to your trusted servants, listening to the tales they would tell you about just what was going on outside the very wooden door you would stare at daily.

And by the sevens, was it horrifying.

Rhaenyra, now dubbed ‘the cruel’ and ‘Maegor with teats’, had ordered the forceful taking of the two queen's Alicent and Helaena to a pleasure house, their services to be sold to whoever could afford it; at least those are the rumours that have been spread around the castle grounds.

Any woman would think this fate horrifying but even more so you: as wife of the prince regent at the court of the usurper you certainly were an easy target for the mad queen’s wrath. Worry of being made to share the same fate consumed you more with each day; a fear that would eventually make you request an audience with Rhaenyra.

Instead of her, you now find yourself with her husband the rogue prince – or now, the king consort – Daemon standing in front of you.

“I requested to speak to Rhaenyra.”

“Yes. And now you’ve got me. Speak before I change my mind.”

You stay silent for a few moments, pondering how to ask the question. "Is it true what they claim? About Alicent and Helaena, the pleasure house?"

"Oh it is true," Daemon said, walking slowly towards you as he spoke, his eyes roaming you from your head to your feet. He stopped a few feet before you and looked into your eyes, the smell of sweat and ash surrounding the dragon rider.

"Alicent is not a hostage nor a political ploy - she is a traitor, guilty of high treason, and will be treated as such. The usurper queen may say otherwise but we all know the truth."

“What about Helaena?” You say, almost pleading, Alicent and you had clashed often over the past two years, your differences in mothering and you not being devout to the faith being a frequent cause of argument; but Helaena – oh, sweet Helaena – is a different story.

Another victim of powerful scheming. You had to watch her suffer tremendously from the effects of blood & cheese, something that too shook you to the core. The son of your dear friend, slain so horrendously right in front of his mother and siblings.

"She had no choice in any of it, she is innocent."

"Helaena," Daemon said, scoffing at the mention of her name. Of all the greens, Helaena was the only one that he didn't really hate. "She may be innocent, but she knows what kind of people her mother and brother are and she remains loyal to them. What does that say of her?"

"Helaena never had a choice, neither did I. We are not like your wife Daemon; we did not have the blessing of having a king as our father that would let us do however we pleased. We were all forced into this." You protest, frustration now evident in your voice. "You have already killed her son. Beheaded him infront of her own eyes. Is that not enough?"

“We did not kill him; we simply avenged our own.” Daemon's scowl deepened as you spoke, though he had to admit you were right, at least somewhat. "Fine. It seems you are the only one who wants to plead for her safety. I will speak to the rightful queen, perhaps she won't be entirely opposed to your request of freeing Helaena.."

Daemon paused for a moment, gaze lowering to your bump, before speaking again. "Tell me. Who is the father of the child you are carrying?"

You look down your small bump at his words, laying a hand on it reflexively. "My husband, Aemond, of course. Why?"

Daemon took note of your movements as your hand went to your belly, a flicker of hatred in his eyes when you said Aemond's name. "Just making an observation. How old are you now? 20? And already three kids at your heels…”

"I will turn 19 soon. Yes, I’m carrying my third child. What of it?" you tilt your head slightly, taken aback by his change of topic and his increasingly intrusive questions.

"Three children, at nineteen." Daemon seemed almost impressed. He looked at your belly again.

"I don't know of what concern my husband and I's private matters are." Your voice betrays you, sounding way more hostile as you intended it to.

Daemon looked at you in a way that made you uncomfortable. He was eyeing your body up and down, and his silence made you feel his gaze prickling your skin. "Does your husband like seeing you pregnant?"

You stare at him silently, mouth agape at the shock of such an intimate question. "Yes..." You admit reluctantly.

A smirk broke through Daemon's frown, as a low chuckle came from his lips, eyes still lingering on your stomach. "He keeps you as his broodmare. You're clearly a fine one as well; babes not even out of the cradle before you’re with child again. I don't blame him."

"He is my husband. It's his right to have children with his wife." You say defensively; repeating the words you have been taught all your life.

"It is indeed." Daemon said, taking a step closer to you, invading your personal space. He took a deep breath through his nose, taking in your scent. This close, he could see his own reflection in your eyes. "His right, and your duty. You must be a good wife to please him so thoroughly."

You stare at him silently again, before shrugging timidly. "He doesn't complain." You don't want to risk saying too much, so you continue with the question you had been planning to ask all this while.

"Rhaenyra... What is she planning to do with me? With my children? I heard she has rewards out for Maelor…"

"She has no intention of killing you or your children. Though you may still be stripped of your title as princess." Daemon paused a moment before continuing. "As for Maelor... There is a bounty on his head, yes. He is the only remaining son of the usurper. Since he is so young she will let him live; but only under her influence."

He raises his hand to tug a strand of hair behind your ear. "She contemplated selling you to the pleasure house as well, you know? But since you're gravid and played no instrumental part in their schemes, I could persuade her not to do so."

You look at him wide-eyed, feeling a pit form in your stomach, as if your worst fears had been confirmed. "What- a-are you jesting?"

Daemon took note of your reaction. He was still close, he could see the outline of a dimple in your cheek and smell the sweet scent of your milk surrounding you; a smell still clinging to your body as you had just finished feeding your youngest before he entered the room.

"Indeed. Rhaenyra is not like other women. Much less merciful and the men that surround her even less so." He said, still smirking. His hand had found its way to your waist now, his fingers running along your side. "But a good word from me and I could persuade her not to do so. You should thank me."

You stare at him, your hand moving to hold onto his arm, ready to push him away. You study his face, recognising an unsettling darkness in them. "You wouldn’t do this just because. What is it you want from me?"

"Hmm..." Daemon took another deep breath, your scent was really strong with this one. Different notes were in your scent as well. He wondered if those were remnant of your perfume you had applied in the morning or perhaps an oil youve applied to your hair.

He let out a sigh as he tried to keep it from affecting him. He lowered his head towards yours and spoke slowly, every word a whisper. "No, you're right. I wouldn't do it just because. But for you, I could make some exceptions. You've always had my attention, you know that? The pretty little thing that you are, wed to my maimed nephew."

"What are you saying?" You try to sound brave but the quiver in your voice betrays you.

Daemon chuckled as he noticed your nervousness. He could tell from your shaking body that you were afraid. He put a hand under your chin, moving your head to look into his eyes. He spoke slowly and quietly.

"Let me have you and I shall guarantee your and your children's safety."

You stare at him bewildered, stunned silent for several long moments. "Are you mad? I will not betray my husband!"

Daemon chuckled, amused by your naivety and innocence. "Oh my sweet lady... Do you have any idea what you're in now? You're in war, taken hostage by your enemy. Your husband will be happy so long you don't die. I cannot sire a babe on you anyway, so there is nothing to worry about." Daemon smirked, looking at your stomach, and your body, that sweet aroma that surrounded you, drawing him closer and closer.

"Give yourself to me and I shall guarantee yours and your children’s wellbeing.” He doubles down.

You stare at him, trembling slightly in fear and anger, your voice growing quieter the more you struggle to contain your emotions. "You can't be serious. If... If my husband won't have my head for this, then your wife will."

He raised an eyebrow as you spoke, a smirk gracing his face. He was still holding onto you, close enough to kiss you if he wanted to. His gaze was fixed on your lips as well, and your scent was just so... Irresistible to him.

"Rhaenyra won't care. In our marriage we are free to seek pleasure wherever we like as long as our loyalties don’t falter. The things I can do to you, you will enjoy them alright..." His voice became low and quiet again as he spoke the last words, the hand that previously rested on your waist now slithering around your back and ascending lower and lower with each passing moment.

You stare at him in disbelief, fear and anger boiling inside you. Just when you want to protest yet again, the loud sounds of something collapsing startle you, your head snapping to look around Daemon's wide frame with urgency.

Your eyes settle onto Rhaegar. The wooden tower he was building had collapsed, an inconvenience the toddler quickly moves on from by starting to build it anew. Baelor sits not far from him, abandoning his own toy to crawl over and investigate his brothers doings.

The anger you had been feeling subsides immediately, replaced by worry and an urge to cry as you worry for whatever their fate will be as this war continues.

You don't want this.

You do not want to let him touch you, but it might be the only way to protect your children from harm, especially considering how cruel rhaenyra has proven herself to be. Your stare is focused on your oldest still, watching as his tiny hands wrap around each block and meticulously place one onto the other.

So innocent, so fragile.

"What about them?" Your voice as soft as a whisper.

Daemon didn't take his eyes away from yours. His gaze burning into you as he studies every expression you make. Your scent, your warmth, almost driving him crazy. "They will be taken care of. I told you I wouldn't let them come to harm." He said as he ran a hand through your hair, the curls of your hair wrapping around his fingers. "Don't worry, sweet girl, all will be well. If you agree to my terms, that is."

He can watch your jaw clenching and eyes gloss over before hearing the ever so soft word he has been waiting for leaving your lips. "Fine."

Servants had been sent by Daemon to take your children to bathe them and play with them. You did not miss the sympathetic look they gave you. Perhaps being able to tell what will happen to you purely based on his instructions to not return until he tells them to.

You’re standing at a window looking out at the city taking note of the sun lowering on the horizon, dressed in nothing but a simple silk robe, when the door opens and Daemon walks in without knocking.

He steps inside, wearing the same clothes from before; sword and dagger still at his side. He comes closer and takes in your appearance, pleased at the sight. He approaches you with a calm step until your bodies are mere inches apart, bringing his hand up to caress your arm.

"You’re trembling," Daemon spoke, his voice smooth and dark. His eyes were examining you again, taking in your appearance. You had changed from the last time he saw you, you looked more womanly now.

A mother to two already, with a third growing inside, the outline of your small bump visible through the loose fabric. His movements were precise and confident. You could tell he was trying hard to contain himself.

For now.

Your gaze follows the movements of his hand as it runs up and down your arm. You can feel his large calloused hand and cold skin through the thin fabric of your robe. It’s a stark contrast to your soft and warm skin, unmarked and unblemished from living sheltered all your life.

In a small voice, barely more than a whisper, you ask, “Can we just get this over with?”

Daemon nods, taking note of your trembling once more before he turns and walks over to a nearby table, taking off his sword and dagger and placing them onto it. His head tilted as he looked at you from where he is standing.

"You were quick to give into me so easily. Were you that desperate? Does your husband not satisfy you?" He said with a smirk, beginning to undo his tunic.

You tighten your jaw, upset at his words that, to you, sound accusatory of promiscuity - a sin for a highborn lady. A married one especially.

“Desperate to keep my children safe, yes. My husband always kept me well satisfied.”

"Hmm..." Daemon huffed. His body language shifted a little. He seemed more agitated and tense, not liking that you brought up Aemond's name, much less so that you praised him. He walked back towards you now, closing the distance slowly and taking a good look at you.

His eyes kept darting to your stomach as you spoke of your husband. With every movement you make you entice him even more. “I don't know what he does to you to satisfy you, but I assure you I can do it better."

You roll your eyes at his words; he had always been cocky.

"He and I are very compatible in that regard. Now, can you just do what you need to do? I'd prefer to get this over with soon." It was the truth. Aemond’s and your intimate life was very well. Three children in three years of marriage served as proof of that.

Daemon's blood was running hot at this point.

"Compatibilities. I see..." Daemon said, his words filled with mockery. "Well, there's nothing I'd prefer more right now than to be inside of you, so I guess we're compatible as well." He approaches you quickly, now dressed in nothing but his breeches, eagerly tugging at the belt holding your robe closed, watching as it falls open and reveals your bare body underneath.

He took a sharp breath as he took in your figure, almost letting out a moan of desire at the sight of your body, his gaze roaming your body eagerly.

“Gods, you’re stunning.” His gaze settles on your breasts, swollen from all the milk inside them. “I heard you don’t employ a wet nurse. Why is that?”

You stare ahead blankly, trying not to make any sound or expression when you can feel his hand rest on the curve of your waist. “I don’t believe its good for the mother-child bond. That mothers should nurse their own children, or they will bond with the wet nurse instead.”

Daemon smirks at your response, thumb caressing over your delicate skin as he now looks at your face. “Is that so? Does your husband enjoy watching you breastfeed?” He asks with a low chuckle before pulling you in, his hardened length in his pants now pressing against your belly as He holds you close with both arms wrapped around your waist. “Or does he enjoy tasting your milk himself? Do not lie to me, woman. You won’t like the consequences if you do.”

Your hands rest on his chest, you’re fighting the urge to push him away with every fiber of your being, your head hanging low as you do not dare to look at him directly. You take note of his skin; scars and healed burns covering his muscular form. The body of a battle-hardened warrior.

Reluctantly you admit, “Both…”.

“Oh… you’re even more of a little whore than I thought, aren’t you?” he whispers into your ear. “What an eager to serve little thing you are. You’ll make a good little toy for me after all.” One arm wrapped still around your waist the other moves to your front, his large hand stroking over that small bump of yours.

“Almost makes me sad you’re with child already. I’d have loved to pound my own into you.”

Your head snaps up at him now, huffing in offense you exclaim, “Daemon!”

He simply smirks, amused by your objection. Leaning in close he whispers into your ear, his hot breath burning on your skin. “You may be carrying my nephew’s child now but there is always a next time. A few more months and I could still make you mine.”

He turns around with you in his arms, leading you backwards towards the bed until you feel the mattress on the back of your legs. A small push of his makes you sit down on it. Knowing your duty, you take it upon yourself to scoot fully onto the mattress.

He watches with a smile on his lips as you do so, happy with your compliance before reaching down and spreading your legs open for him to look after he noticed you keeping them shut.

He takes a good look at the treasure between them, groaning out when his manhood twitches at the sight of it. He stands up straight again, taking off the breeches that held him contained until now as his intense stare moves up your body once more.

You feel so vulnerable and exposed for him, completely bare and spread wide open for him to examine as the intensity of his gaze only intensifies. He does not look like a man now. With his pupils blown wide he resembles more a predator ready to pounce its prey than anything else.

His gaze fixed on your cunt, as if in a daze, he reaches out tentatively, his rough fingertips grazing along the sensitive flesh for painfully long moments.

Tracing along the form of your fleshy lips again and again, your breathing is but nervous gasping as one shiver after the other runs over your skin.

Suddenly the sensation fades as he climbs between your legs, one hand on your thigh to keep you spread open for him as he starts pushing himself into you without any more preparation, blissfully surprised to find your cunt wet and welcoming for him.

He can’t hold back a low groan as he pushes himself all the way into you, leaning forward and lying fully on top of you. His face is mere inches from yours as he slowly starts to move his hips, deeply penetrating you at a slow pace while he studies your every expression.

Grunting, your hands move to hold onto his sides as his knees dip into the mattress on either side of you. You clench your jaw tightly, trying to stop any sounds from escaping your lips while you struggle to accommodate him.

Aemond was more than enough to satisfy you, but Daemon was a whole lot more man than him – in all regards.

He knows this, too. Its easy for him to tell by the way your nails dig into his skin as you struggle to get used to him.

“How come you’re so eager, sweet thing? Do you enjoy a man taking charge of you?” A wicked grin on his face his movements become more powerful, your body rocking back and forth with the force of it.

You want to say no, to deny every second of it and not give him the satisfaction of watching you enjoy his touch, but when he starts to hit an all too familiar spot inside of you, you crumble immediately. Not being able to hold back your moans anymore you can barely manage to answer him with a weak “…yes”.

“No wonder my nephew wouldn’t stop breeding you. You’re the perfect little plaything.” He pushes his body into yours, pushing you into the mattress while he whispers into your ear. “Don’t worry, sweet girl. I will violate you properly and make sure you enjoy every second of it.”

With that, his thrusts quickly grow rougher, starting to pound you with such force the entire bed rocks with it, all while watching every expression on your face.

His breathing heavy and rasp he soon shifts his attention down to your breasts, that are bobbing up and down with each forceful clashing of his hips into your. He tried to control himself, he really did, but he just cant anymore.

A hand cupping your breast he leans in, taking the sensitive nub on it between his lips. Just a few soft movements of his tongue over it and he can already taste it. Feeling the warm and sweet liquid dripple onto his tongue makes him humm contently as he starts indulging himself in the sweetness of you. His hips grind into you deeply but at much more humane pace than before.

Your eyes shut in pleasure, your own hands moving by themselves as they embrace him, moving into his hair and caressing his back. This is what Aemond liked, your dear husband.

Oh, if you would ever see him again…

Daemon is surprised, you embracing him was the last thing he expected, even less so you pulling him in more, but he loved every second of it.

He would swear he is in heaven. The warm embrace of his cock while the sweetness of your milk covers his tongue driving him crazy. It could have been hours of him doing this or mere seconds, all he knows is he finds himself spilling his seed into you way sooner than he wanted to, his relentless thrusting an expression of his frustration as his loud moans fill the room, shameless and utterly unafraid of how much the guards outside your door will hear of this.

His slow and deep grinding into your cunt continues as he stays suckling on your breasts, his spend soon clinging to both of your hips and pulling long white strings whenever he pulls away only to push back in with even more force. His antics only cease when he is sure he has drank all of what you can give, both your breasts feeling comfortably light while a throbbing sensation in your cunt would stay with you until the next day, you're sure.

He collapses onto you, still deeply buried inside, squishing your breasts under his weight while his heavy breaths right in your ear send shivers down your spine. Your arms travel by themselves again, wrapping around him and holding him close. Just how Aemond has always demanded you hold him.

“You’re a very good fuck… really good.” Daemon growls right into your ear.

A few moments later, he rolls off of you onto his back, laying next to you and catching his breath while studying your side profile.

This quiet moment gives you the first chance to gain back your senses, a wave of guilt washing over you as the sensation of another mans spend spilling out of you and running down your skin onto the mattress makes you realise the severity of what had just happened. Eyes fluttering, trying to ignore the burning sensation in them, you say, “I think… I think you should leave now.”

Had you have looked at him, you would have noticed his smiling face turn to stone in an instant.

This was the worst thing you could have said.

To command the dragon to leave your bed. He could not leave that be.

“Stay quiet. You have no say in this.” His voice is stern now and he rolls onto his side, leaning over your body and staring daggers into your skull, his hand grabbing your chin harshly and making you look at him. “If I want to abuse your pretty little cunt all night I will do so. And you will take it.”

“Don’t... don’t you have somewhere to be?” Your voice is shaky, your fear heightened by the anger you can see burn in his eyes. A desperate attempt of yours to sound considerate for his valuable time is only pouring more oil into the fire.

“Don’t try to tell me what to do. I have all the time in the world to play with you.” His fingers twitch slightly, as if holding back the urge to choke you. “Stop acting like a baby. You know the way of our world. You know when a woman is better off just taking a cock and shutting up.”

“Damn it, I need a break.” He sighs, it sounds almost like a growl as he tries to control his anger. He lets go of you, shoving you away slightly, as he gets up of the bed and takes a few deep breaths. “You got me all riled up, whore.”

You sit up in the bed, hugging your legs as you look at him. His large frame, the burn scars all over his back, his temper flaring and the sheer power he holds over your fate make you fear for the consequences.

You didn’t mean to upset his highness.

“Don’t call me a whore…” It slips out quietly under your breath, yet he hears it anyway. You weren’t used to such language. Despite his acts, Aemond would never say a foul word to you.

Oh, Aemond…

“Shut up, whore!” Daemons raised voice take you out of your thoughts. He barks, closing in on you rapidly and pulling your head back with a tight grip on your hair. “Would I send you to the pleasure house being called a whore would be the least of your problems! Show me some gratitude!”

Daemon‘s anger takes over, mixed with his still pressing need in his cock, he drags you off the bed and pushes you to your knees in front of it, the bedframe pressing into your back uncomfortably.

“Perhaps I was too nice to you.” He growls, hand still in your hair as he makes you look up at him, ignoring all your pleas and apologies.

“Let me show you your new place in life. Open wide.” He commands, his other hand having a firm grasp on his cock as he traces the form of your lips with it.

For the first time ever since his first visiy earlier today, genuine fear overcomes you. Not daring to oppose him, you open your mouth as commanded, gagging immediately as he shoves himself into your mouth.

Aemond enjoyed the mouth pleasures as well yet had been far gentler than he was. Your hands move to Daemons thighs on their own, trying to push him back just a little, but when his second hand too moves to your head and holds it in place, all hope for ease is lost.

Tears start burning in your eyes in an instant once the thick head of his cock hits the back of your mouth, even more so when you can feel it push in deeper, forcefully flattening your tongue underneath as he made his way into your throat.

The room fills with his sounds of pleasure, guttural moans and growls, your desperate gagging and struggle drowned out by the volume of his.

The bed behind you and his hands in your hair make any escape impossible and you thank the gods when after what feels like an eternity he finally pulls out of your throat, a string of saliva connecting him to you as you gasp desperately for air.

“Fuck, that’s it,” his voice is deep and raw with lust, “That’s a good girl, finally.”

The praise does little to make any of it easier as he thrust himself back into your mouth and down your throat before you even had a chance to wipe your now freely flowing tears.

Daemon soon loses himself in his depravities, the fleshy pouch on his stones slapping harshly against your chin with each thrust. Your face a mess of tears and spit you’re unable to do much more than dig your nails into his thighs and take all he wants to give.

By the time he shoves himself all the way down your throat, his hips flush with your face as he tightly holds your head in place and spills what else he had left in him into you, you’ve near lost all grasp on reality.

Your back and knees aching near as much as your jaw, you can finally breathe in relief once he separates himself from you once and for all, leaving you collapsing forward with heavy breaths as he stumbles backwards a few steps, groaning in satisfaction as he studies your pitiful state.

“This is where you belong from now on,” he says after a while, “On your knees for me, whenever I want. Do you understand this now, whore?”

On your hands and knees, still breathing heavily and coughing occasionally, you take a few moments to find your voice again. Avoiding his gaze, you mumble, “…yes.”

“That is no way to talk to your king,” he objects, “Speak properly, whore. You’re a princess, you know how to.”

Defeated, you make no more attempts to be willful. Looking up at him, you answer, “I understand now, my king.”

A wicked smile on his face he approaches you, petting your head a few times. “That’s a good princess. Now clean yourself up. You would not want your spawn to see you like this.”

Leisurely walking back to where his clothes lay discarded, he starts dressing himself as if this all had been nothing out of the ordinary.

Adding “I will be back for more once I feel like it.”, he grabs his swords and disappears out of the door just as swiftly as when he had arrived, shutting it with a loud thud.

You were still on the floor, your back now resting against the bed as you spread out your aching legs in front of you, hoping for relief in this much more comfortable position.

A thousand thoughts run through your head yet not a single one stays long enough to grasp.

With no idea just how much time has passed it is the sound of commotion in the halls outside tour door that draws you out of your blank stare. It was late in the day now and the sky barely lit. It was suppertime for most, and undoubtedly, the maids would soon return with your sons and serve your own meals.

You had hardly managed to throw your nightrobe back on, wipe away the remnants of him with the nearest piece of cloth and open the windows, hoping to ease the smell of sex in the air, before the knocks echo through the room.

Just as predicted, here were your sons, in the same carefree mood they always were. Happy to see their mother and now ready for a meal. Supper was served not long after.

While you had received only stew and bread before, the table was now set with the first mouth-watering meal ever since you’ve been made prisoner. While you sit there, little Baelor on your lap and Rhaegar on a high chair next to you, you watch them intently.

The way each of them indulges in their meals, digging into the food with their bare hands and making a mess that no doubt would require a second bath before bed, your heart aches and you struggle to hold back the tears.

They are so innocent, completely oblivious to the death and suffering surrounding them. Their helplessness stands out to you. Unable to even feed themselves without help, they very much depend on you.

As you go on about the evening, taking the time and enjoying the presence of your two loved ones, by the time you lull the little ones to sleep, you’ve made your decision.

You will do all it takes to keep them safe. All it takes to keep them from harm.

And if that means submitting to Daemon’s every vice without complaint, then so be it.

Authors note: This story is currently halted as I focus on my Aemond and OC works for a while but will eventually continue. Follow me for updates or comment to be put on the taglist for this fic in the future!

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