#aemond targaryen prompt

[aemndxx]

ʚ gif credit. ɞ

𝒶.targaryen. ┆ it's a craving, not a crush.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ jus' a lil' smutty n fluffy aemond drabble. !!! 🧸♡ྀི

jus' imagining prince regent!aemond coming into your shared martial chambers, all irritated, furious, and aggressive-- startling your sensitive heart slightly, so unlike the stoic yet kind, brooding yet a complete gentleman whenever he was in your company—his sweet, darling little wife—quiet yet cannot help himself by always whispering sweet nothings into your ear, enjoying the way you're always so shy and get so easily flustered around him still, even after many moons of marriage already.

still, the aemond in your martial chambers right now seemed different, not like his usual self-- or rather, not like when he was with you; a gentleman, but always ravenous for you, well-mannered for a targaryen prince of the royal blood, yet dangerous and cruel to anyone else who wasn't you, his mother or his sweet, beloved older sister, helaena.

overall, the aemond standing before you now, it was a totally different side to him, standing there with his large fists curled tightly, white knuckled and glaring into the void with that one-eye of his-- and it hits you right there and then, you have never seen aemond upset, much less so furious, nor had aemond allowed himself for you to come to know or see him when he's like this, not wanting to frighten you away, especially during your courtship days.

aemond always knew you’d be his lady wife someday, it just took some… persuasive words from the young prince, which was said in his usual soft, velvety drawl, nearly sounding bored as he spoke to your oafish father while you were off dancing with your sisters a few steps in front of aemond, having him order you to stay close by to him that entire evening, and of course, you obeyed so prettily, like the precious princess he knew you were born to be.

yet, the threat in his words were clear and final that night at aegon and helaena’s wedding celebration—your daughter is mine, she always has been mine, wed her to me and mayhaps i won't burn the entirety of your house down to ashes by dawn, hm?

"my love? are you quite alright?" you question sweetly, so innocent and with the purest, gentlest of intentions, and that is why not even a full two minutes later, you find yourself with your knees pressed up against your heaving breasts, stripped completely nude, with your beloved husband on top of you, pounding into your sopping, quivering little cunt, fucking you over and over and over again.

"fuck," aemond grits out, his narrow hips snapping into the backs of your smooth, plush thighs, that were lathered with a sweet vanilla oil that had your husband go nearly feral every time you pass by him, or when you're hanging off of his arm during court in the afternoons and banquets like the beautiful, sweet little doll that you're.

"tightest fuckin' cunt-- by the gods, woman..! you will be the end of me," he says through his panting, chasing his high and yours, needing his release that he's been craving all day, instead of having his mother yapping in his ear about politics and the like, but all he could focus on was you-- and stuffing his face in between the softness of your gorgeous thighs, to taste the sweet nectar that lies between, just begging to be kissed and licked and fucked full of his cock until your tiny cunt is gaping and your womb is full with his seed.

"doing s'good for me, sweetling," aemond coos into your ear hotly, panting harshly and dripping with sweat, his skin fiery to the touch-- and oh, how you loved getting burned by him.

blood of the dragon, indeed.

you whimper meekly, looking up at your husband all weepy and cross-eyed, pleasure consuming you whole, overwhelming emotions clouding your already hazy mind, making you babble mindlessly, deliriously moaning like a silk street whore.

"soon... soon, you'll give me an heir," aemond husks breathlessly, making your cunt clench erratically, which earned you a crazed chuckle from aemond, watching as he threw his head back in pure bliss, high off of your willingness to be his perfect little wife, all obedient and ready to receive her husband's seed.

"yes, i know, my love... i know, you just want to be a sweet, obedient little wife for your husband, don't you?" he taunts, a mocking yet amused smile curling upon his curved lips, which he then bends down again, focusing most of his attention all over your bare bosom, your breasts heaving and little nipples hardened from your arousal-- but aemond doesn't mind, immediately suckling on one of your puffy nipples, making it nice and wet and swollen, creating claiming marks all over your breasts as his hips continue to brutally snap into you, rutting and bucking into your wildly, making you wail girlishly and squirm beneath your husband.

"a-aemond...! please, p-please, i am about to−" aemond clicks his tongue, stopping your speech and tutting with disapproval shining in his amethyst eye, the sparkling sapphire gem that was stuffed into his left eye socket shining maliciously, a warning to tread carefully for what you're about to say.

"does my wife wish to come on her husband's cock?" aemond purrs, now rolling his hips every time he enters you, making tears fall from your pretty, doe-like and lustful eyes, all misty and dreamy with desire and love for your sweet, beloved aemond.

"please, aemond-- i want to come on your cock, please," you beg with a small whine, desperate and needy to reach your own release already, especially with aemond having edged you by eating your sweet little cunny out for nearly an hour before finally fucking you with his cock, after you had begged and pleaded him to.

continuing to listen to your sweet, desperate pleading, aemond smirks, before swallowing your loud, feminine moans into his mouth, devouring you and tasting you, thrusting his hips into you faster, faster, faster-- signaling for you to reach your peak as he fucks you even harder and even more mean than before, giving your overstimulated clit a few harsh slaps with one of his big hands, and perhaps your husband was a bit too cruel, or just obsessed with making you his, but you're too delirious to notice as he finally leans down and quietly gives you his permission for you to come for him.

"come for your husband, now," he whispers deeply, possessively, making you cry out and cling to him like a newborn babe as you finally get to lose yourself in your ecstasy.

aemond targaryen was many things, most of them cruel… a kinslayer, some common folks say a madman, many say a cold-blooded killer, a man with a blackened heart and a hunger for blood and violence-- however, aemond one-eye was never one to deny his wife anything, no matter the consequences.

[scribendis]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝

Aemond Targaryen x female reader (third person perspective) ❖ husband & wife

Warnings: smut, dry humping, p in v sex, semi-public sex, newlyweds being horny, little bit of profanity, breeding kink if you squint really, really hard Rating: 18+ MDNI Word count: ~3,500

Summary: Upon returning to camp from a hunt in the Kingswood, Aemond looks for a way to keep his wife warm on a bitterly cold night.

A/N: Serendipitously conceptualized ages ago but written (very late!) for the first week of the @hotd-bigbang winter word prompts challenge - Fire | Furs | Forest

Dividers by @saradika | AO3 link

The setting sun cast long shadows across the small city of tents that made up the hunting camp in the Kingswood. While the men had spent the day combing the forest for boars, stags, and other game, the women had occupied the main tent. They gorged themselves on cakes and other sweets, all the while indulging in gossip that ranged from the salacious to the downright treasonous. 

And, much to the chagrin of the new wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen, they pestered her endlessly about the burgeoning love life of her and her husband. She quickly learned that, to be a woman in the king’s court meant sharing every last, excruciating detail of one’s “wifely duties” so that the others could compare them with their own. So that they could all know whose husbands fucked them the best and complain about their own lackluster experiences. 

They questioned her until she was beet-red in the face and one of the older women finally called for an end to her torment. Still, it would taste a lie for her to say that all their titillating conversation about lovemaking had not made her ache desperately for her husband. 

But by the time that night finally claimed the sprawling camp, the men had still not returned from the hunt. It signaled to the waiting wives that their husbands would come back without their prize, frustrated and exhausted - and that they would later fall into their beds reeking of wine. 

The call of horns and the distant sound of barking hounds was their cue to don their furs and exit the tent to greet the arriving men. The prince’s wife was glad for the fur-lined cloak that her husband had procured for her for just such an occasion as this. She was even more grateful for the garment as she exited the tent only to be met with the sting of the cold night air on her cheek. The women elected to wait for their husbands by the bonfire that raged in the middle of the camp, its light their only source of warmth as frost began to settle on the Kingswood. 

It was easy for her to spot her husband among the group of riders, his long silver hair unmistakable in the light of the rising moon. Whatever otherworldly quality his Valyrian features gave him seemed amplified tonight - and it made the sight of him astride a horse even more odd to her. Were her husband any other lord of the realm, his approach on horseback would not have seemed out of place. But Targaryens were no horse riders. Still, Aemond effortlessly commanded the steed beneath him, his mastery reminiscent of the way he would handle a dragon.

As the crowd of riders began to disperse, her eyes remained fixed on her husband. Amid the thundering of horses’ hooves and the raucous laughter of the noble lords, Aemond's attention, too, was solely focused on her. The intensity of his gaze only intensified her excitement, eliciting a gentle flutter in her belly.

With grace and ease, Aemond slipped off of the horse’s back. A waiting servant took his leather riding gloves from him, but Aemond could very well have let them fall to the dirt for as little attention as he paid to anyone but her. 

Aemond was always loath to indulge in any public affection, aside from the occasional hand at the small of his wife’s back or a brief touch upon her cheek. Even now that he was reunited with her after such a long day apart, his restraint came in the form of a soft kiss brushed against her temple and nothing more. But the way that his arm wrapped around her and his hand dared to wander much lower than her waist - and the way his eye held hers so intently - told her just how much he had missed her. How much he needed her.

Given Aemond’s usually stoic demeanor, she had never thought that he would be needy, but he had proven to be just that in the few weeks since they had been wed. They had already made love in the depths of the palace library more times than she could count, and discovered countless other hidden places throughout the Keep where his hands had found their way up her skirts and his lips had left marks on her neck. Some mornings, he would forego training altogether to stay in bed with her with his face between her legs or his cock buried inside her. 

And he had not heard a single complaint from her yet. 

“Ābrazȳrys, your skin is cold to the touch,” Aemond commented, a hint of concern lacing his soft voice. His lips lingered at her temple for a moment longer before he withdrew, taking one of her hands in his. “As are your fingers.” (wife)

She smiled. His own hand was as warm as ever. “I am no dragon like you, dear husband. The cold night air chills me to the bone.”

“And the furs I gave you do not suffice?” he asked, quirking a brow.

She shook her head. “Nor the bonfire.” 

Aemond hummed, his displeasure at such an assurance quite clear. He brought her fingers to his lips, blowing warm air on them before kissing them. “Come, jorrāeliarza. I have another idea for how we might offer you some warmth on such a cold night.” (beloved)

Still with an arm drawn around her, he swiftly guided her around the bonfire and, to her surprise, past the royal tent where food, wine, and music awaited them. She glanced over her shoulder questioningly at the entrance to the tent, from which poured an inviting golden light, but Aemond seemed determined on his path. 

“Aemond, are we… not going inside?” 

A smirk tugged at his lips, and she noticed a mischievous twinkle in his eye as they passed a flickering torch. “I thought I would spare you any further conversation with the ladies of the court.”

“And I thank you for that, dear husband,” she said with a laugh, her words falling from her lips in fleeting clouds of mist that looked like she was breathing smoke. “But I do not think–”

Aemond stopped them in their tracks and turned to her, staying any further words by sweeping in to press his lips firmly against hers. “Lykirī.” (Be calm.)

Once freed from his bruising kiss, she stood, dazed, for a moment before any further thoughts could come to her - something that her husband had certainly noticed given the grin that spread across his lips. She pushed him away playfully with a little scoff and an over-exaggerated look of annoyance that drew a rare chuckle from him.

“I am not one of your Targaryen dragons,” she protested, drawing her furs tighter around herself. “Those… dragon commands won’t work on me.”

Aemond leaned in to meet her at eye level, offering an arm to her that she took. “But it did work, did it not?”

She was still none the wiser about their destination as her husband quickly guided them beyond the boundaries of the camp and toward the treeline. The leaves had taken on stunning hues of red, orange, and yellow, a sight that she had marveled at from within the wheelhouse on their way into the Kingswood that morning. But in the cover of night, that beauty was lost to the pitch-black darkness. Not even the light of the moon could permeate the thick canopy of trees, leaving the forest an endless void. 

She did not fear the darkness, only the occasional sound of a twig snapping or the call of some unknown creature. As husband and wife disappeared from the sight of the camp, she found herself clutching onto him more tightly. 

“Aemond, where are we going?” she whispered as though speaking at full volume would topple one of the mighty trees. 

“Patience, jorrāeliarza.”

“What if there are wolves out here, Aemond–”

“There are no predators in the Kingswood. And, if there were,” Aemond turned to her and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, brushing the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip, “do you think that I would let them harm even a single hair on your head?” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before releasing her. “Do not worry. We can stop here.”

She glanced around, seeing the pleasant glow of the camp in the near distance and nothing but darkness everywhere else. “Here?” 

“I thought, perhaps, you would want to be a bit further from camp…” he purred. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to see him lean in. One of his hands reached up to pull her furs aside and his lips found her neck, warm and soft as they began to kiss her skin. She felt his hum vibrate against her pulse point, where her heartbeat fluttered wildly. “Given how loud you can be, dōna ābrazȳrys.”

A gasp left her and her head tilted away from his lips, begging silently for more. Tomorrow would call for yet another dress with a high neckline, she thought. 

“I’ve… I’ve not heard that one before…” He regularly called her all manner of names in High Valyrian. She often found him muttering to himself in his ancestral tongue. One night, he had even spoken it in his sleep. She knew a small handful of words, but only those few. “What does that mean?”

“Sweet wife,” Aemond breathed against her neck, leaving a bit of warmth behind before his lips captured hers once again. “You taste sweet tonight, too.”

“It must be the… the wine, I think,” she gasped. “Or the lemon cakes…” 

But the growing hunger inside him was not for the sweetness of cakes or Arbor gold. 

He kissed her more deeply this time, lips coaxing hers apart to taste her tongue for himself. His hands fell to her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh to draw her body against his. And, in doing so, he finally offered her the warmth he had previously promised her - one that not even the hottest bonfire could provide. 

As his fingers began to deftly ruck up her skirts, she felt her skin prickle. At the same time, an entirely different kind of heat began to spread through her until it found its familiar place between her legs. Moaning softly into their continued kiss, she dropped her hands to the closure of his trousers, where his obvious arousal strained against the dark fabric. 

“Gods, Aemond, you're so hard and I've barely touched you," she breathed against his lips. “Did you miss me?” But she knew the answer, and how pleasing it was to know just how badly she had been missed that day. 

His only reply was a grunt that rose in his throat as his hands slipped beneath her smallclothes and all but tore them from her. Despite the rough, calloused spots on his palms and fingers, his warm touch was a balm against the cold night air. In a swift, almost aggressive motion, he lifted her by her arse so that she had no choice but to envelop his hips with her legs. It taunted her, the feeling of his hard cock pressing against her wet entrance. His trousers were a tedious, unwanted barrier between them. 

Their passionate embrace only became more heated as Aemond pinned her to the trunk of one of the trees and his body pressed firmly against hers. She squirmed, inadvertently causing friction between her clit and his still-clothed hardness that was too delicious to keep a moan from stuttering past her lips. 

“It would seem that you missed me as well, jorrāeliarza,” he rasped with a playful smirk. Teasingly, he rolled his hips against hers to coax another one of those sweet sounds from her. “Come on. Take what you need.”

She needed no further convincing, as great as the ache between her legs had grown. Her grip on the collar of his longcoat tightened and she took over, rocking her hips against his at a slow, but steady, pace. Each gasp and moan that left her lips billowed from them in a smoke-like mist, until she tucked her head into the crook of her husband’s neck and the sounds became muffled against his throat. He smelled of horse and sweat and, if she searched for it, the soap he had used the night before. But he tasted divine as her lips began to pepper open-mouthed kisses against his skin.

Judging by the trembling breaths that she felt against her hair, this teasing was just as pleasurable for her husband as it was for her. His own grip on her arse tightened, as though he was fighting to hold on. Knowing him, he wanted only the satisfaction of spilling himself inside her. 

But his own torture would not go on for much longer, as her rutting against him was quickly bringing her to the brink of release. Her pace quickened, desperate as she was to reach it. Finally, the pleasure inside her began to unfurl and its warmth spread through her. From head to toe, it enveloped her completely as though she had been submerged into a hot bath.   

It was exactly as Aemond had promised. In the grips of her climax, the frigid air mattered little, if at all.

Gasping for breath as she came down again, she pressed her lips to his and he received her kiss greedily. No doubt he was desperate for his own release after watching her come apart - and how could she refuse him?

“You know,” she began as her hands fell to his trousers once again. Only, this time, her fingers made quick work of the closures. “Earlier, all the women wanted to know how good you are in bed.”

Their gazes locked and, even in the darkness of the forest, she could see the almost animalistic desire in his one good eye. But as desperate as he was to be inside her, he seemed almost equally as intrigued by her words. She freed his cock from the confines of his trousers and took it into her hand. Her simple act of stroking him once was enough to draw a low groan out of him.

“Fucking gossips,” Aemond replied huskily. His lips drew close to hers but did not quite meet them. “Do I wish to know what you told them?”

She grinned. Her fingers guided his cock to her slick entrance but stopped there momentarily. “I told them–” Her words were cut off by a moan as he buried himself inside her quickly and without warning. “Oh, fuck…”

“Oh, fuck?” Aemond repeated teasingly, raising a brow. “Am I so bad at it, jorrāeliarza?” The smug look of satisfaction on his face belied any attempts at fooling her into thinking that he believed that to be her true confession earlier that day. 

Too impatient, he began to move his hips against hers - and she met each of his slow, steady thrusts with movements of her own. Misty air surrounded them amid their shared panting, both of them relishing in the sensation of becoming one again after such a long day apart.

She allowed her head to fall back against the tree, where strands of her hair began to tangle in its rough bark. But she hardly noticed or cared at all, especially as her husband’s lips reclaimed her neck and his hot breaths swept along the contours of her jaw. 

“Ābrazȳrys.”

She became so lost in the carnal pleasure of his cock sliding in and out of her that Aemond’s voice barely reached her. It did not help at all that his pace began to quicken as the heat between them grew to a simmer. The cry of pleasure that left her mingled with the sounds of the forest, joining the nighttime symphony of hooting owls and the rustling of the crisp underbrush.

“What did you tell them?” Aemond pressed. His own composure was starting to fail him and his words came out strained. 

A breathy laugh left her. He always purported to care little about what the members of his father’s court thought of him. But, evidently, that sentiment did not extend to his wife and her opinions. 

She placed a hand on his cheek to pull his lips to hers, kissing him deeply as pleasure began to coil inside her anew. “I told them,” she panted, her eyes opening to meet his, “that my husband is not the one riding the largest dragon in the world.”

Whatever Aemond had expected her to say, it clearly was not that. For a moment, his hips stilled and he looked as stunned as the ladies had been when she had uttered those same words that morning. One of them had even spilled a full cup of wine down her pale blue dress as she stared at her like some startled animal. 

“My, my…” he purred.

But his look of shock fell away just as quickly. Replacing it was a ferocity that she had never seen from him before. A hunger that her words had awakened inside him which only she could satiate. There were no more soft words of love, or the usual names he called her while making love to her. His fingers dug almost painfully into her hips and he resumed his movements against her. 

Aemond quickly built up a brutal pace, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her toes curl inside her shoes. Any thoughts or complaints about how bitterly cold it was outside had been long forgotten, drunk as she was on the intensity of the pleasure he was fucking into her her. Even her moans began to leave her in choked gasps and broken mewls that, if anyone in the hunting camp heard her, would have sounded no different than the calls of some creature of the forest.

She could feel it, the straining of her muscles and the tightening of her insides. The tremble that overtook her as she hurtled toward the edge along with him. She felt like a handkerchief being squeezed of water, and he would not stop his tightening of her until he had wrung her of every last drop.  

Her eyes fluttering, she leaned in to capture Aemond’s lips in a kiss that he did not reciprocate in his own carnal pursuit of release. “Aemond…” “Mm-mm,” he chided, his tone gruffer and far lower than she had ever heard it. “I want to see you.” 

One of his hands released its grip on her arse and moved to the nape of her neck to hold her firmly and ensure she could not look away. As he watched her, he groaned deeply in his own fight to hold on until he could get precisely what he wanted. 

And it only took three simple words from him to finish her at last.

“Cum for me.” 

Like a dam breaking, all the building pleasure that had been twisting inside her released. Coaxed by the continued pounding of his hips against hers, it spread into every extremity as her body shuddered and her cries of ecstasy filled the dense, frosty air. The fluttering of her walls around him soon spelled the end for him, too. With a few more ragged thrusts, he found his release inside her.

His eye squeezed shut. His lips, kiss-swollen, parted. And then, a certain look of peace overtook him.  

Although still lost in her own haze of pleasure, she watched him closely - and she decided that he had never looked more beautiful. 

They remained in their loving embrace, neither one wanting to pull away from the other just yet. Her, with her legs still encircling his hips, and him, with one hand holding her up and the other at her neck. Aemond pressed his forehead to hers and his thumb began to caress her cheek tenderly.

She hadn’t spoken of these moments to the women of the court that day. About how her husband could fuck her within an inch of her life and, immediately thereafter, treat her with such affection and softness. With such devotion in each caress of his fingers and every soft word he uttered.

Their breathing soon began to slow once again and the world around them finally came back into view. Smiling, she brushed the tip of her nose against his before kissing him so deeply that he hummed in surprise. But he reciprocated earnestly, slowly setting her back down on the ground but never quite letting her go.

“We should return to the camp,” Aemond said as he re-adjusted her furs on her shoulders. “I would not have you catch your death out here in the cold, jorrāeliarza.”

A sweet grin spread across her lips, but something wicked glistened in her eyes. “Oh, but my husband has already given me all the warmth I require.”

[flowerandblood]

Whimpering men are one thing, but thanks to my husband I discovered something else. Masculine gasps, puffs, sighs, panting, shuddering breaths on the verge of a helpless groan.

Imagine your beloved husband taking you from behind while lying on his side with you, trying to take it slow and not rushing, his raspy, hot breath full of impatience and pleasure envelops your cheek – one of his hands is squeezing your plump breast, the other parting your thighs wide, both of you sighing with delight as he spreads you open on the fat, swollen head of his cock.

A surprised gasp escapes his lips as if he can't believe you're always so tight in the beginning that he can barely fit in, his fingertips dig into the warm skin of your wide-spread thigh, forcing you to let him inside you with your soft mewl of effort – he doesn't say anything, you know his eyes are closed, his focus is only on the fact that he is now deep inside you, wonderfully squeezed from all sides.

Even though you know he tried so hard, his hips involuntarily start to root more aggressively into your thirsty, hot, fleshy core with a loud click of your moisture – since he knows in what position you like it and where you need him to rub you, you are always so eager for him, always so wet for him.

He starts panting loudly with pleasure when he hears your first sweet moans, when he feels your warm walls clench against him, sucking him inside – his teeth bite greedily your neck, shoulders and back as if he is trying to stifle what's coming out of his throat, rooting into you with a loud slaps of his thighs against your buttocks, squeezing your breast in his free hand like a dough, playing with your nipple between his fingers.

Suddenly he slows down with your mumble of displeasure, pretending to tease you, betrayed, however, by the trembling puff that left his chest, by how intensely he's throbbing inside you, clenching his fingers on your thighs as you try to rub against him, preventing you from making any movements, so that he doesn't come just yet.

[corporalicent]

team green kids as the folk of the air titles (in/sp)

for @hotd-bigbang prompt

[endless-ineffabilities]

chem ov pocketshot #1 🌙

Darling coming home late to their flat after filming, to find Ewan already asleep on his side of their bed. She'd quietly sneak in, giving him a wide berth so as not to wake him up.

But in the morning, she'd find that he pulled her to him sometime in the night, and his body cocoons her own—with his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, his leg draped over hers, and his nose pressed to the back of her neck.

E: I'm kinda offended you didn't cuddle me.

D: Didn't want to wake you up, babe.

E: Excuses, excuses...

D: Well we're cuddling now so—

E: Not enough. You'll have to make it up to me.

D: ... How?

E: Hmm... well... it seems like he's awake...

D: oh for the love of—

[aemondseyepatch]

Aemond Targaryen | my blood

[patolemus]

I constantly think of Lucerys gaslighting gatekeeping and girlbossing his way through the war as a hostage to the Greens and I think it is too beautiful

Like, Larys Strong keeps getting in the way? Lucerys will pretend to be scared of him, create some fake proof of something nefarious he’s done (let’s the honest, the man has probably done it at some point) to show to the Council, and tell Aemond he feels unsafe with him around and that he wants his head

I imagine it would go somewhat like this:

“It was Larys Strong,” his voice echoes in the silence of the court room. Then, whispers break out, louder and louder until everyone is yelling.

The man in question looks surprised. He obviously never thought Lucerys would use this opportunity like this.

That is his problem then, for not realizing the beast that lurks beneath his skin.

“And what do you have to say for yourself under this accusation, My Lord?” Alicent asks. Her face has gone ashen, and Lucerys wonders how does it feel to have such an important ally be alienated like this.

“It is no true, of course. The Prince is probably mixing up his memories. He was in a very traumatic situation at the time,” Larys replies smoothly. It will not save him, even if this time he is innocent.

“I don’t feel safe around him,” despite his steely expression, Lucerys wills tears to well in his eyes. He grabs Aemond’s arm. “I want his head, qȳbor.”

It is not a request. It is an order.

Aemond unsheathes his sword before anyone can say anything else.

[myfandomprompts]

Hey, I saw you did what Ewan's characters would be like with a girl daughter. And I admit that my curiosity was: What would each of Ewan's characters react to an unexpected pregnancy? Or announcement of a pregnancy

Or, opening new horizons, what would each person's relationship be like with their wife/girlfriend when they were pregnant? (if you want to use the reader for this part)

(I'm sorry if you're not accepting requests or something)

Hi! Thank you for the ask and it's truly okay and wonderful!

Headcanons: How would EwanVerse characters react to unexpected pregnancy?

Abraham

He hadn't even planned to stay with you, his only focus was on earning his place among the gypsies. Yes, he lied to himself about liking you, about being obsessed even, but at least he had managed to keep his emotions at bay. Until now. When he learns of your pregnancy, he gets mad, takes time for himself to think. Then he sees how miserable he had made you and his turmoil quickly turns into guilt. He can't stay away from you for long, let alone hurt you. You could be together after all, happy, and hell, that baby is his. What other beautiful manner to make his claim on you is there?

Aemond

War was raging, and he took you as his companion because he could, because as Prince Regent, no one will dare say a word against it. He had needs, impulses both of sinful nature and quiet affection, and you were meeting each of them perfectly. But when you don't bleed for two moons, he finally realises why he chose you, why he didn't 't care about being careful: he wanted you for himself, and having you round with his child would be the ultimate prize. You and the baby would be untouchable.

Billy Taylor

He feared it was going to happen. He had heard the stories so many times : people around with too much passion which caused unexpected things to happen ruined their lives, even reputations. It had scared him as much as elated him when he got to be with you, to touch you everywhere. And now, with the news of you pregnancy and amidst thinking of a way to tell his mother, he finds out that he would do it all again, thousand times over if life allowed it. He would be so very happy with your child.

Billy Washington

He wasn't supposed to have met with you again, or even to hook up. You, the ex he had a hard time forgetting about. But he guesses that once you harbour feelings for someone, it never really goes away. When you tell him, he is awestruck, not believing it, even asking you if it's his. It takes weeks for him to wrap his head around it, thinking what the hell he's going to do then he decides. Decides that he was delusional thinking he could live without you for a while, and that he won't let you go again. He never stopped loving you, and that baby will make everything right.

Ettore

You're just his neighbour, the only one who gets him, who sees him for what he is. He actually doesn't care about what people think of him, or what you think about him. Or maybe just a little. But he likes how you let him do things to you others wouldn't. When you tell him, he stays silent for a while, expressionless. "So?" he tells you, and when you slam the door in his face, he tries to convinced himself that he doesn't care. But in truth he can't stop thinking about it. About what it would feel like to have something as... precious with someone. How foreign it seems to him.

Genyen

He doesn't understand: you said you were fine with him being "just a friend", that you didn't want more, and it suited him fine. So why were you telling him that now? He can't do anything for you, he has nothing, even if he would like to. He would, truly, he finds himself thinking, provide for you if he could, for the baby. But it's the way you look at him with those shiny eyes and a hand on your belly that make him abandon any idea of disappearing on you. He'll stay, whatever you say he is to you.

Michael Gavey

He is euphoric. You're the girl of his dreams, and it seems surreal. He can give you everything you want, provide for you like you've never been cared for before, you don't need to be anxious about it all. He reassures you at once, already scheduling how you'll manage to graduate and have a beautiful baby at the same time, your baby. He won't ever let you go, and is already planning for the second one.

Osferth

You're the lady he can't believe he has, and when you announce that you're carrying his child, he can't help but feel guilty. He has promised himself never to sire a child, a bastard's bastard, and now he had brought shame on you. You would have been better without him, really, better with someone worthy of you. If only he had been more careful. What if you died in labour? What if the baby died? It's with those dark thoughts that he snaps out of it and decides that he will look after you until then. He will pray for you and the baby, be there for the both of you until life takes him.

Tom Bennett

He isn't even surprised, you're his girl after all. It's not like he had planned it, but it was bound to happen at some point. Deep down, Tom is a family man, always taking care of his folks, a fact he is finally brutally made aware of when you tell him the news and a warm feeling fills his chest. Now he just have to find a way to get you a ring. Maybe he'll have to steal it?

Will

It wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to get sick of him like everybody eventually did, and he was supposed to remain detached. But then here you are, saying you want to keep it and he allows himself to hope. Hope that maybe you truly love him, that maybe he'll finally have something of his own, something to share with you. Maybe he'll be able to let his guard down, like he always longed to. With this news, he felt like he wouldn't be hurt anymore.

I excluded Hoodie, Jack, Jason & Poacher.

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

-Richard Siken, excerpt from Wishbone | Team Green Kids for the @hotd-bigbang

[mooniedust]

Modern Aegon bot/Prompt.

Plot: You and Aegon belong to a small, intimate circle of friends—a group that has become your chosen family. Over time, the bond between you and Aegon deepens into a sexual relationship. Yet, while you yearn for a more profound emotional connection, Aegon remains detached. The rest of your friends disapprove of the situation, sensing its toxicity, but Aegon uses this to his advantage. He emotionally manipulates you, subtly driving you away from the others to ensure your attention remains solely on him.

TW: This may contain references to excessive alcohol and drug use, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, and both physical and moral betrayals.

Btw: Don’t involve yourself with friends; I sacrificed myself to learn this lesson for all of you.

With all my heart,

Moon Dust.

Aegon was never known for his intelligence; perhaps his mind had already been consumed by alcohol and drugs. However, he cemented his reputation as a true idiot when he decided to cross the boundaries of friendship and get involved with a friend shortly after high school. Maybe it was his charming face and sharp tongue that drew you to him, who knows? A cheeky kid with biting remarks and an arrogant son of a bitch, your paths crossed countless times over the years, but it was only during the last year, amidst the pandemic, that your small group truly came together. A bunch of troubled kids drowning their sorrows in life’s little vices when they could’ve been in therapy— not exactly brilliant, but somehow functioning like a dysfunctional family, where everyone supported each other.

Over time, Aegon grew more confident. His body, sculpted with attractive curves, and his doe-like eyes in delicate shades of lilac hinted at the future heir to his father's legacy—Aegon, the black sheep. You grew closer after a group argument, something unexpected for two people who avoided each other as if being mentioned in the same sentence was an insult. He thought you were mocking him when you held his hand during the fight and told him everyone was overreacting.

"I can't leave you without at least giving you the chance to justify yourself or apologize, you're are not that kinda of stupid."

"I know you, we are friends."

Before he realized it, he was secretly licking wine off your plump lips, blowing smoke from his joints into your face away from the prying eyes of your friends—all at the end of May.

July was coming.

He wasn’t confident about his body, but you made him feel like he was on top of the world, giving him what he had been missing for so long. Going out to clubs, getting involved with drugs, whispering lies and crafting mental traps so you wouldn't tell your friends, you wouldn't mention the confusing signals he was giving you, monopolizing you like a spoiled child unwilling to share a toy with others. so you wouldn’t tell your friends anything at all.

He was changing—and for the worse. But it wasn’t his fault; you two were never really a thing.

You stuck with him through all of it, even when he pushed you away and pulled you back with the same speed—the yearning to have and the boredom of possession. Most of the time you spent together, he resented you just the same. Aegon wanted you to stop acting like a partner, a devoted lover, for fuck’s sake, you talked about this.

Are you stupid, love?

He know you had been in love with him since you were seven, and it seems that unresolved feeling never really went away, perfect for him and a nightmare for the others.

But you were casual, so smooth and willing to keep up what both of you lived behind closed doors—a shitty friend in the end. Your love made him sick. It made him do what he did best: fuck everything up.

He kissed a mutual acquaintance at your birthday party while you were frantically searching for him, afraid he had relapsed alone. It wasn’t his finest moment, but in his defense, she had your scent, but her hands were cold. He thought of you all the time, how he could never give you comfort, a healthy relationship, just stolen kisses and a broken home.

Pathetic, despicable little man.

He sobbed like a child that night, seeing your disappointed, yet unsurprised, expression. No one approved of what you two had, but everyone thought he’d have more respect for a friend, for you.

Aegon murmured drunkenly while lying on a soft mattress, his senses so clouded he barely noticed when someone carried him upstairs, lying pathetically as he clutched his stomach, trying to keep everything inside.

Suddenly felt the bed lighten.

Were you leaving? Aegon knew he had fucked everything up—for you, your birthday, all his friends in common and everything else—but you had never left him like this, drunk, high to the bone, his liver twisted in knots. Crying for you, begging for you.

Aren’t you going to scream? Show anger, cry, anything? Just thinking about how he fucked you over like everyone else around him, the last person by his side, sabotaging the last genuine thing in his life. Aegon tended to get low when trying to convince you to stay, cruel and manipulative, a pathetic mess stumbling over the sheets trying to grasp your hands, frighteningly cold that night.

"We're casual, stop being dramatic."

But the words never came, coward little Aegon, still need your devotion, need to be loved and knowing that you would stay without hesitation if you used the right words.

Stupid and low.

“{{user}},” he whimpered, crocodile tears streaming down his chin, mixing with white traces on his nose, knuckles pale from gripping the sleeve of your shirt, refusing to let you go. It smelled of Malbec and the constant scent of ink you used in class. He didn’t meet your gaze, too ashamed of what he was still trying to do to make you stay. "I love you, don’t—please, I need you, don't leave me alone. I'm scared."

[onegirlintheback]

@reginarubie @firesteel-eden Aemond/Sansa Soulmate AU, where you can communicate with your soulmate through written word. Strangely, Aemond's Soulmate is a Stark who claimes to be from 200 years in the future. Sansa's soulmate claims to be a long dead prince and a Kinslayer.

This changes nothing ~~everything~~ when Aemond washes up upon the shore of the God's Eye.

[aemndxx]

just thinkin' about if you ever break up with modern!aemond targaryen, he would still continue to fuck you every night after he finished his classes at university, and then purposely get you pregnant because he's quite literally obsessed with you-- you're his to keep, only his, forever, and you'll always belong to him and him alone.

[alexandrarosa]

The Storm’s End and the Shipbreaker Bay incident, only this time both Aemond and Lucerys fall down from their dragons and collapse into the sea. They finally make it to the shore and are lying down on the beach soaking wet and quite angry.

‘You tried to kill me!’ Lucerys shouted standing up in a huff.

‘You maimed me!’ Aemond screamed back still lying on the sand.

‘You beat the shit out of me and my siblings!’

‘You disfigured my face!’

‘You wanted to kill my brother!’

‘You cut me with a knife!’

‘You almost killed me! A moment ago!’

‘And you left me this horrible scar!’

‘I feel like this conversation is starting to circle itself’ Lucerys sat beside Aemond on the beach. He was panting and his teeth were chattering. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘We?’ Aemond sat up and looked at Lucerys amused. ‘I hardly think so.’

‘Fine, then I am going to go and find a place to sleep’ Lucerys rolled his eyes. ‘You can just die here.’

‘I’m not gonna die here, I’m a great warrior.’

‘Then good luck fighting the sand and the seagulls.’

[ladystarksneedle]

Cherries and Wine

A/N: For @hotd-bigbang

Prompt: December 18th - Hoarfrost | Hibernate | Holly

Wrote a little holiday drabble with a twist on the words. Happy holidays to everyone, hope you enjoy🌹

Word count: 200

Dividers by @saradika

Next>

She feels his eye on her as she pops another one in her mouth swirling her tongue around the plump fruit before plucking its stem from her lips. Her throat feels unnaturally dry as she swallows, meeting his gaze unabashedly. He stares at her unblinking, fingers drumming against the wood, eye alight with an unspoken challenge. Their little game of back and forth has been going on since the start of the winter feast. The wreaths decorating the spread ahead of her mock her coquettish insolence as the crowd chatters oblivious to the wild thrumming of her heart. He angles his head towards her, swirling his chalice before taking a sip of the red, staining his lips with ardour, a gesture of recognition and chivalry to an onlooker but she knows it not to be so. She feels a thrill jolt down her spine as the ice in his gaze thaws and reignites into something more. As the toasts are made and the voices grow louder she can feel the familiar tingle of excitement spread through her, burning with his acknowledgement and with the hour of the bat approaching she knows she'll find a capricious cave to sate her appetite soon.

(A little moodboard song inspo)

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond @watercolorskyy @paprikaquinn

[emilykaldwen]

I cannot stop I want to be all things Got to let go I want to be all things

[sleeplessdreamer123]

Fanfic Idea! (ABO Lucemond, soft and sweet)

It is a fact that everyone knows about Viserys' extreme favoritism when it comes to Rhaenyra, since she is the only child born from Aemma.

Aemond knows that as well (of course he does, he experienced the height of his sire's favoritism the moment he lost his eye), and he curses his sire for it. Couldn't he have shown a little compassion towards his other children? Couldn't he at least hide his blatant favoritism?

Aemond wouldn't do that to his children. He knew the pain and embarrassment of being treated as nothing but passing wind compared to his "delightful, could do no wrong" elder sister. So he made a promise to himself, to never favor one child over the other, to show equal love and affection towards all his pups.

He is having a hard time keeping that promise. He tries, the Seven knows he does. He gives all of them the same attention, gives all of them the same amount of his time and effort to raise and teach and guide. It's just that he just so happens to catch himself giving a tiny bit more towards his youngest.

She's younger than them, he says to himself, so of course he would need to give her just a little bit more attention and care. It wasn't favoritism, no, it's simply giving her what she needs while young, so she may grow like the others. So what if he allows her to skip some of her classes, or allows her to sit on his lap on important meetings. He's done the same for all his children (no he didn't). So what if he gave her his portion of desserts, she's still growing after all. And what if he often takes her for a ride on Vhagar, he's done it with all of them (not to this extent).

He's not showing favoritism! (His mate disagrees, very strongly.)

In all honesty, even he doesn't know why he does it. (He does, he just doesn't want to admit it.) His little girl was simply...his little girl. And he does treat his pups equally! He just so happens to dote a tiny bit more towards her.

Lucerys huffs when he sees his sweet youngest sitting on her sire's lap, rambling about the seashell she managed to collect. He was intially afraid for her, when she came out with dark hair and eyes instead of the blonde hair and purple eyes the rest of his children bore. Memories of the world calling him a bastard for his traits almost made him lose himself when he held her in his arms for the first time.

He was even more afraid that Aemond would suspect him (he had nothing to hide, but the fear of Aemond calling their child a bastard made it so much harder to breath) and would in turn hate her. He was very wrong.

Aemond had always had a lovingly stunned look whenever Aemond presented their pups to him. It all paled in comparison when he nervously presented his youngest. While Aemond adored all his pups, he revered his youngest. The look of awe he had when he cautiously held her was something Luceeys could never forget.

Of course, it didn't take long for everyone in Driftmark to note how special he treated her. Even the children began making remarks, and at first Lucerys feared they would hate her for hogging their sire's attention. After all, he was their favorite person (besides Lucerys, of course). Surprisingly, they just shrugged it off. They acted like it was an obvious thing for their sire to do.

When he asked why it didn't bother them as much, why they treated their sire favoring her as normal or expected, his eldest rolled his eyes, like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "Muña, of course kepa favors her. She looks like you."

-----------------

I like to think that, try as he might, Aemond has a bit of Viserys in him, not enough to ignore his other children, but just enough to show favoritism to a certain one.