#aemond targaryen x targaryen male reader

[ironboyxs]

Night of the Broken Dragons pt.2

honestly I wasn't expecting to write a second part to this story but it was so well received and someone commented that they would like a sequel, so here it is! p.s. I don't know how to write smut properly

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Warnings: Targcest and smut

part1 here

A few days after the night he spent with his uncle in King's Landing, Y/N was back in Dragonstone. He didn't know how to react to the last few days. All he could think about was Aemond and how he could see him again, but he knew that a visit to King's Landing was out of the question.

"Why are you so distracted, brother?" - Jace asked. The family was gathered for dinner

"Just thinking about…"

"About?" - Lucerys asked.

"Nothing, I was just distracted." - The boy said clearly lying, something he was never very good at.

Daemon and Rhaenyra looked at each other, they knew each of their children very well and knew that something was wrong with the boy. He wasn't usually so absent-minded, or miss his appointments as he had been in the last few days. Dinner continued despite the awkwardness, Y/N's siblings chatted while Daemon and Rhaenyra talked about politics, until the doors opened. It was one of the knights who protected the castle, he seemed embarrassed to enter so suddenly into something that should supposedly be familiar. -

"Forgive me, princess' - He said to Rhaenyra "But a raven came for young Prince Y/N and in it a note said it was urgent." - Y/N was surprised, who could be sending him urgent messages at this time of night?

"Let me see" Daemon said.

"Father, it's for me." Y/N had already lost his fear of calling Daemon father, at least in Dragonstone.

"Okay." Daemon rolled his eyes, "Give it to the boy."

The knight approached the prince and handed him the letter.

"Thank you," Y/N thanked him.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll read it in privacy." – He said, leaving the dinner table, leaving the whole family curious.

It was a letter from Aemond, obviously it would be a letter from Aemond, why hadn't he thought of that?

In a secluded corner of the castle, the young prince opened the letter that read:

“Nephew, I need to see you urgently. Please meet me in the Meadows near God’s Eye Lake. Nyke jāhor ao. (I need you).

The letter was short but to the point. Aemond needed him, and Y/N could no longer stand the distance since the last time they were together, when they had shared such great intimacy. The boy headed for the dragon pit.

“Get Aelithys ready. I’m going out.” He said, entering and speaking to the dragon masters. “But, my prince, it’s already late.” One of them said to the boy. “I know, but I need to resolve an urgent matter. I count on your discretion and not go running to tell my father or mother.” The prince looked at the masters seriously.

A few minutes later, the light pink and white dragon was ready to fly. Rhaenyra always said that Aelithys was the perfect dragon for Y/N, both with a delicate yet majestic appearance.

"Aelithys, soves!" – The prince commanded and the dragon flew. The prince's long blond hair, which at this point reached almost to his waist, was not tied up, so he could feel the wind shaking his locks, which made his escape even more exciting.

After a flight of about 20 minutes, he arrived at the place where Aemond had indicated in the letter. Even in the darkness, it was difficult not to notice Vhagar behind the mountain, the dragon was too huge to go unnoticed.

Y/N landed his dragon near Vhagar, knowing that the two could get along well, and went to look for Aemond. He did not have to walk far, because at the top of the nearest hill his uncle was sitting, watching the stars.

"Vēzos, vestās nykē?" (Uncle, did you send for me?)

Aemond was not startled by the boy's sudden presence. He simply stood up and as soon as he could he put his hands on Y/N and pulled him towards him, giving him a kiss. Y/N was surprised but could not deny that he had wanted this for a long time.

"Nyke ūndegon lēda ao, ñuha jorrāelagon." (I have missed you so much, my beloved)

Y/N blushed at Aemond's words.

"I missed you too." - He said, caressing the taller man's cheek. "But what was the urgency? Why did I need to come so quickly?"

Aemond's gaze became saddened, Y/N then realized that his uncle had been crying, something he never thought would happen after they were children.

"Aemond, what happened? - Y/N said with affection and love in his voice.

"Come with me first." - He pulled the younger man by the hand and led him to a small stone house that was on top of the hill.

"What place is this?" - Y/N asked suspiciously.

"I paid the owners of the house to make it comfortable and tidy, and I gave them an inn and enough money so that they wouldn't tell anyone about my stay here."

"You got a house just to find me?" - The younger man smiled.

"I would get a castle if I could" - Aemond looked intensely into his nephew's eyes. "Come in."

They entered a small stone house with rustic walls and a heavy wooden door. Inside, the warmth of the central fireplace enveloped them, with crackling flames illuminating the simple but cozy space. Fur rugs covered the stone floor, and a sturdy wooden table occupied the center, flanked by rough benches. On the wooden shelves, clay utensils and baskets of dried herbs completed the scene. In the corner, a bed covered with woolen blankets and furs promised rest, while the soft light of the candles and the low ceiling with exposed beams made the environment cozy and safe.

"It is a cozy place." - Y/N said to his uncle.

"I am glad you liked it, now please sit down." - Aemond pointed to the soft bed.

Y/N sat up and was eager to hear what his uncle had to tell him. What could be so serious and urgent to make him sad and call for him so urgently?

"My parents have found me a wife." – Aemond got straight to the point.

Upon hearing his beloved's painful confession, Y/N's face contorted in a mixture of sadness and despair. He knew that this moment would probably come one day, for one of them. Y/N's mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. Y/N felt his chest tighten, and he struggled to catch his breath. His heart, already broken by the impossibility of being together, now suffered an even deeper pain. He lowered his head, trying to hide the pain, and his hands tremble slightly, his mind clouded with the anguish of a future apart and the regret for a love that cannot blossom.

"But I don't want you to worry about that" - Aemond said seeing his nephew's despair and quickly placing his hands over his.

"I knew that one day this would happen Aemond, with me, or with you." - Maegor takes a deep breath - "We could never be together anyway "- The boy's gaze was of pure sadness.

"I refuse to marry any noble girl I've never seen in my life, I refuse to not be with someone other than you. And that's why I called you here." - Aemond gently takes Y/N's chin and makes him look at him "I have a plan."

"A plan?" - Y/N asks curiously.

"Your father has allies in Dorne, right? There we can be whoever we want. If we offer the ruler there the protection of our dragons, they will accept us with open arms."

"And risk a war against the Targaryens? Aemond, are you crazy? Run away?" - Y/N really wanted to believe that they could have a future together, but he didn't know if that was the right way.

"I won't be without you." - Aemond said in a decisive and possessive way. "I won't accept anyone by my side other than you."

Y/N was flattered by his uncle's words, he knew that the passion between them was intense and that it would burn with them as long as they were alive. They just might need a better plan.

"Let me talk to my parents before we try to run away somewhere?" - He said in a calm tone.

"Do you think your parents would accept us?" - Aemond asked skeptically.

"You'd be surprised at what they do for their children's happiness. Your mother can be… Persuaded. And your father, well, sorry to say but, he would do whatever his favorite daughter asked."

"I've gotten used to my father not being present in my life. I can't get used to missing you."

"So, let me talk to my parents and if nothing works, we'll run away, okay? Whether to Dorne or anywhere. I don't want to be away from you either, Aemond." – Y/N said with all the sincerity in his heart.

Aemond slowly approached, his gaze fixed on the other's face, a mixture of desire and passion in his eyes. He raised his hand and gently placed it on the back of his beloved's neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. His lips, initially half-open, approached the other's softly, until their lips finally touched, hesitantly, almost like a silent question. The moment the contact was made, something was awakened, and the kiss, which began timidly, soon intensified.

Their bodies instinctively moved closer, as if they were trying to merge into one. The hand on the back of his neck now squeezed more firmly, bringing him closer, while the other glided over his beloved's chest, feeling the accelerated rhythm of his breathing.

Their lips intertwined with more urgency, and the kiss became deeper, exploring and discovering, as if time had stopped. Their breathing mingled, while their mouths found a rhythmic and passionate dance, their bodies in perfect synchrony, locked in the moment. Aemond lays his nephew on the bed, kissing his neck, not caring if it would leave marks or not. He wants them to know that Y/N Targaryen already has an owner.

"Nyke jaelāt ao." (I want you) – He says with a growl in his nephew's ear.

"Nyke issa aōhon vēzos, jāhor nykē hae aōhon." (I am yours uncle, take me as yours).

Hearing these words come out of Y/N's mouth, Aemond lets out a growl and begins to undress the boy. Slowly taking off piece by piece of the complicated and beautiful clothing he was wearing. When Y/N was finally naked, Aemond looks at him like a dragon looks at its prey, wanting to devour him.

You are the most beautiful human being in all the seven kingdoms and beyond. – Aemond says, caressing the younger man's cheek. Y/N blushes at the compliment and seeks his uncle's mouth, wanting to taste more of the sweet nectar of his kiss. As they kiss, he helps Aemond remove his clothes, now both of them naked, once again in an intimacy that is only theirs, and that they only wanted to have with each other.

"There is some oil in the drawer next to the bed" - Aemond said to his nephew.

Maegor laughs, realizing that his uncle was expecting that to happen.

"Were you already preparing for this?"

"I wasn't going to find you and just give you a kiss" - He says, taking the oil and smearing it on his fingers. - "Relax, it's me, remember that I will always take care of you."

Aemond thrust himself inside Y/N, feeling the boy's warm insides tighten around him.

"Gods, you're still going to be my downfall" - He said, kissing his nephew's neck.

Y/N's breathing was labored, he had only done that once before, and with Aemond himself, but even so, his uncle was very big and his body needed time to adjust.

"May I move?" - Aemond asked gently.

Y/N nodded confirming that he could and Aemond began to move slowly, seeking more pleasure for his nephew than for himself.

"Is that okay?" - He said, still with his face buried in the younger's neck.

"You can go faster" - Y/N said breathlessly.

"Your request is my command, my prince" - Aemond chuckled.

The older man began to move faster, hitting a specific spot that he knew made Y/N roll his eyes. Y/N felt like he was in heaven, he never thought sex could be so good. He grabbed his uncle's hair and pulled him closer for a kiss.

"I won't last long" - Aemond said with a panting breath.

"Inside" - Y/N said.

That was all the older Targaryen needed to hear, he increased his pace which made the younger one roll his eyes in pleasure. The two screamed each other's names as they had their orgasms synchronized.

Aemond collapsed on top of Y/N, tired after sex.

"Nyke jorrāelagon ao." (I love you) - Aemond said.

Y/N's heart warmed when he heard his uncle's confession,

"Nyke jorrāelagon ao tolī" (I love you too).

"We'll work this out, we won't be separated" - Aemond told his nephew.

"No, we won't." - Y/N said kissing the scar on his uncle's eye. Zaldrīzoti jēdari lēda sīr.

Dragons belong together.

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴀ ʟ ᴡ ᴀ ʏ ꜱ ᴍ ɪ ɴ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: Dark Maegor I Targaryen x Fem Reader

Summary: You were always his. From the moment you were born. And it's going to stay that way, whatever you like it or not.

Warning: Targcest, Graphic depictions of violence, Non con, Maegor himself is a warning.

Notes: English is not my first language. Art belong to dalberadiata. Hope you enjoy!

Maegor kicked a rock with all the strength his young body could muster, the jagged stone skittering across the ground and disappearing into the brush. His chest heaved with frustration, his fists clenched at his sides, and his face contorted in a mask of anger.

But no matter how much he trained, no matter how hard he fought, his father’s gaze always passed over him. Like he wasn’t even there.

His foot slammed into another rock, as he ground his teeth in fury. He wanted to be king. He would be king. One day, they would all see—his father, his brother—all of them would see.

“Boo!”

A voice, sweet and sudden, pulled him from his thoughts. His body stiffened as he turned, already prepared to strike, but it was only her. His sister, always sneaking up on him, always playing her games. She popped out from behind a tree, her eyes sparkling with mischief, a playful grin on her lips.

“Did I scare you, Maegor?” she teased, laughing softly as she plopped herself down beside him on the grass without waiting for a response.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t smile. Of course, he wasn’t scared. His hands flexed at his sides, still shaking with the remnants of his anger. He wasn’t in the mood for her games. Not today.

But she didn’t seem to notice. She never did. Instead, she sat beside him, her fingers absentmindedly plucking at the flowers that dotted the ground. She hummed softly, her hands busy weaving stems together as if there wasn’t a care in the world.

“I’ll be king one day,” he muttered, his voice low, angry. His fists tightened as he stared ahead, his vision still blurry with unshed tears. “You’ll see. I’ll be a great king. Someone important. Stronger than father. Stronger than anyone.”

She nodded, but he could tell she wasn’t listening. She never really listened when he talked about his plans. She was too busy with her flowers, too lost in her own world of pretty things and laughter. He frowned, watching as she twisted the stems in her delicate hands, her smile never faltering.

“What are you doing?” he snapped, his frustration bubbling up again.

She looked up at him then, her eyes wide, as if his anger didn’t bother her at all. Her smile only grew, and she held up the thing she had been working on. “Done!” she announced, her voice soft and sweet, like the sound of a gentle breeze. She leaned over and placed it on his head—a crown of flowers, woven with care, resting lopsided on his dark hair.

Maegor blinked, confused, his anger momentarily forgotten. He reached up to touch the crown, his brows furrowing as he tried to understand what she had done.

“What is this?”

She smiled at him, that same sweet, soft smile that always made something in his chest ache. “Even if you don’t become king, you’re still my king, Maegor.” Her voice was full of warmth, full of love. “Always.”

He stared at her, the confusion in his eyes deepening. She was always like this—so full of life, so bright. Too bright for someone like him. Too soft for a world as harsh as theirs. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond.

But now, when he looked at her, the only thing that remained was death.

Her body was cold in his arms, a shell of the girl she used to be. Her eyes, once full of light, now stared blankly ahead, her mouth silent as always. But that was alright. She didn’t need to speak. She didn’t need to smile.

He still loved her.

Even like this.

She was dressed in beautiful silk, her hair brushed and perfect, her lips still stained with the remnants of the last kiss he’d given her earlier. She looked like a doll. Fragile. Beautiful. Untouched. He dragged his hand down her neck, savoring the coldness of her skin, feeling the shiver of pleasure that ran through him.

But the silk? That was a pity. He was going to rip that apart anyway.

He pulled her into his lap, her body limp and pliant, her head lolling to the side as he pressed his lips to her neck. He bit down, hard, savoring the taste of her skin, his teeth sinking in deep enough to draw blood. His hand slid between her legs, fingers pushing against her cunt, trying to get her wet. She didn’t move, didn’t react, but he didn’t care. She would be ready for him. She had to be.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered into her skin, his voice dark and rough as he kissed along her neck, his bites growing harder, more savage. “You’ll give me a son. A true son. Something none of those useless cunts could do.” His fingers moved faster, harder, forcing her body to respond. “We’ll name him Aegon. After father. What do you think?”

He pulled back, his eyes gleaming as he looked at her face. Her tears were falling now, silent as always, sliding down her cheeks like the rain.

Oh, right. He had cut her tongue out.

He laughed then, a deep, guttural sound that echoed in the room. How could he have forgotten? She had screamed, hadn’t she? Begged him to stop, to leave her alone. She didn’t want to be his wife. She didn’t want him. But that hadn’t mattered. Not to him. He had made sure she couldn’t refuse him ever again.

He wiped her tears with his thumb, pushing it into her mouth as he did. “It’s alright,” he whispered, his voice soft, mocking. “I love you still. I like you more like this.”

Then he kissed her, hard and rough, his mouth devouring hers as his hand gripped her neck, holding her in place. She didn’t kiss back, didn’t move, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need her to.

He shoved himself inside her, his thrusts brutal, each one harder than the last. Her body didn’t fight him, didn’t resist. She took him in silence, her tears falling faster now, her eyes empty as they stared at the ceiling. But Maegor didn’t stop. He pounded into her, growling with each thrust, determined to make her his in every possible way.

“You're mine,” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous as he fucked her harder. “Always have been and always will be.”

She didn’t respond. She never did. But that was fine.

When he was done, when her body was limp and unconscious beneath him, he pulled out, only to push his seed back inside her, forcing it deeper, making sure she would carry it.

“You’ll be a mother,” he whispered, his hand pressing against her stomach, possessive. “The mother of my child.”

His.

Always his.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐌𝐲 𝐝♡ve 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 3

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

Warning: paranoia, abuse, mental illness.

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

PART 1, PART 2, PART 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No Aegon–”

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

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

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

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

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

"Aegon, that’s not—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her stomach dropped.

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

He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have.

Her entire body went cold.

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

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

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

Her heart nearly stopped.

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

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

No. No, no, no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[0silver0dreams0]

✦✧ Masterlist ✧✦

"Whispers of Devotion" | Storyline ✦ In a world torn apart by love, loyalty, and obsession, (Your Name) finds herself reborn as the youngest daughter of Queen Alicent and King Viserys Targaryen. Once a modern soul, she is now trapped in a fragile body, caught in the crossfire of a deadly rivalry between the Queen and Princess Rhaenyra. What begins as innocent affection from those around her soon twists into a dangerous obsession. With each passing year, (Your Name) feels the grip of those who claim to love her tightening around her throat. ✧

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

✧ >>Part II Despite her mother, Queen Consort Alicent's attempts to control her, (your name) felt a stronger attachment to Rhaenyra and her children, which created jealousy and tension within the family. Aemond's frustration at not having a dragon fueled his anger, which grew daily, especially after Laena's tragic death. This escalating conflict ultimately led to a tragedy.

✦ >>Part III | Coming Soon… Gradually, as time passes, the girl she once was begins to transform into a woman. Those around her take notice, and the actions of those in her life start to bear consequences. As tensions rise, rivalries deepen, and complex feelings begin to intertwine.

✧ Part IV | Coming Soon…

[bumblesimagines]

Blood of The Dragon

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Still reeling from the death of Lucerys Velaryon and the failed assassination attempt that resulted in the death of Jaehaerys, Aemond seeks out his closest kin.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Typical HOTD warnings, spoilers for S2, brief Targcest (Older Brother-Younger Brother), (Y/N) is the twin of Helaena, mentions of the deaths of children (Luke and Jaehaerys), blatant manipulation but Aemond is touch-starved so, potentially ooc Aemond im still figuring out how to write him, kinda short

WFMF may take a bit to come out y'all! I'm waiting to get my hands on the book again so I can finally decide if/what I'll change from the show and what I'll keep.

~~~

Aemond scarcely paid the Small Council meeting any heed, his gaze shifting between staring at his brother's exhausted, dead-eyed expression and studying the golden coin pinched between his thumb and index finger. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the design etched into the coin and felt a strike of dread squeeze around his throat. The coin continuously served as a reminder of how close Daemon's vermin had been to stealing the air from his lungs, and how cruelly they'd taken his little nephew's head instead. 

Aegon looked ruined, his anger and grief coaxing him into sinking further and further into his cups until he could no longer comprehend the words fleeing his mouth. Aemond found it pathetic most days, for the 'rightful' heir to be a whiny drunk, but now he found it in himself to be sympathetic toward him. Aemond knew little of losing a child but the death of an innocent child he watched grow up still struck pain in his gut. He never expected their older half-sister to be so cruel. 

With the meeting ending swiftly after reaching nothing new or useful, Aemond retreated from the room in long strides that took him down the many halls of the Keep. His thoughts continued in circles, reminding him of young Luke and the horror that'd washed over him when he watched Vhagar snap her jaws around him and his dragon. The younger dragon had fallen to bloody bits from the sky and into the vast ocean below, washing up on a beach or so he'd heard. He hadn't desired such an outcome but he knew his words would fall on deaf ears when everyone whispered 'Kinslayer' behind his back. 

Before he knew it, his legs had taken him to his older sister's room and he entered with some hesistance, unsure of what he could possibly say or do that'd ease the pain of losing a child. He immediately spotted Helaena seated on the floor with her skirt spread around her and her hands occupied with finishing an embroidery. Her fingers moved automatically, muscle memory from all the times she'd spent doing needlework. Her pale eyes remained distant, however, and red from constant weeping. Aemond always knew Helaena to be the most sensitive out of all his children but he'd never seen her cry before. 

"Aemond," Helaena's twin, (Y/N), greeted him, his head tilted downwards from his spot on the couch as he brushed out the knots in Helaena's hair until her silver hair was smooth and detangled enough to braid. He set the brush aside and began braiding, a process he'd long become acquainted with when young Helaena refused to be touched by the maids. "Do you require something?"

"I wished to see how our sister was doing," Aemond replied and clasped his hands behind his back, grimacing when his words brought no reaction out of their sister. She'd always been a girl of little words but she never failed to at least offer acknowledgment with short words or glances. Helaena merely continued to thread her needle through the fabric.

"She is tired, Aemond. We all are." (Y/N) spoke, finishing the braid and letting it rest along Helaena's back. He leaned forward and pressed a fleeting kiss to the top of her head, his hands sliding down to cup her elbows and help her rise onto her swaying feet. Aemond made no move to offer his help, for he knew it'd be rejected whilst Helaena remained in such a state. 

Aemond lowered his gaze to the floor and stepped aside, his head bowed as (Y/N) led Helaena to her bed and helped tug the covers up to her waist. He offered quiet words of comfort before peeling himself from the edge of the bed and approaching Aemond, casting him a brief glance as the two stepped outside.

(Y/N) lingered until the doors to her bedchambers shut and the guards resumed their positions, his arms folding over his chest and face unreadable, as was typical of his brother. The twins had always been an unpredictable sort, no one ever truly deciphering what went through their minds. Aemond found it troubling at times, being unable to read him as he did Aegon, but he trusted him regardless. 

"Where was Cole, I wonder." (Y/N) simply said, his feet moving and voice devoid of everything but a flicker of annoyance that tugged Aemond's attention toward him. The one-eyed prince caught up with his older brother in quick strides, the direction they headed in being toward (Y/N)'s own chambers.

"He claimed to be abed." (Y/N)'s lips pressed into a line at his response. Aemond's brow twitched upward. "Cole is-"

"Cole is but a child surrounded by toys yet desires the prettiest one, one that belongs to another and should never be allowed into his foolish hands." His brother looked him directly in the eye when the doors to his chambers were opened for him, violet eyes as cold as ever. "He is pathetic."

Aemond swiped his tongue over his dry lips and followed his brother inside the room, his fingers tightening around his wrist. "Do you speak of Ser Criston... or me, dear brother?" He asked once the doors shut, leaving them in the silence of (Y/N)'s bedchambers, the air as chilly as the attitude of the older Targaryen. (Y/N) scoffed quietly and poured himself tea that'd no doubt gone tepid in his absence. "Have I not served our King faithfully enough?"

The prettily decorated teapot clattered against the wood of the table it'd sat upon, (Y/N)'s head raising to stare at Aemond. "Ao tymptan Jaes se vēttan aōla iā mittys." Aemond could hear the anger in his tone, barely contained but somehow pushed back to slowly drip through. "The boy you needlessly slaughtered was no Velaryon but he was our sister's child. Īlva ānogar. They killed Jaehaerys to avenge that child, Aemond. Helaena paid the consequences of your actions."

"Would you have preferred they kill me instead, then?" Aemond bristled.

"I would have preferred hearing of your success at Storm's End and how the princeling returned to Dragonstone without an alliance." (Y/N) snapped back, curling his fingers around his teacup and sipping from its contents. Aemond inhaled deeply, his jaw clenching and unclenching; teeth slowly grinding together and the tension in his shoulders easing into a sag. 

Aemond walked forward, his hand lifting to tug the eyepatch from his face and letting it fall onto the table as he took a seat. (Y/N) followed his movements with keen eyes and a deep frown, one of the few times his brother so outwardly showed his disapproval toward him. They stared at each other for a few quiet moments, the coin searing a hole through Aemond's pocket. 

"I only meant to frighten him. I did not wish such harm upon him; I did not want him dead or gravelly injured. I... feel sorry for how things occurred between him and I. I did not... I did not mean to bring pain upon Helaena or Aegon." Aemond leaned forward, broad hands pressing into the back of (Y/N)'s thighs to pull him closer gently whilst his forehead rested along his lower stomach. He exhaled softly when (Y/N) placed his palm upon the back of Aemond's head, fingers running through his hair. "I allowed foolish emotions to best me." 

"Foolish emotions you've stewed in for years, Aemond. You are man-grown and a prince... a third-born son who will never sit the throne." His nostrils flared with a sharp inhale of air and he leaned away, back pressing into the chair and lips pressing tightly together. (Y/N) watched him, palm pressing back the strands that went astray with his movements before he curled his fingers around Aemond's chin and forced him to keep his head tilted upwards. "I am the King's heir, now that they've killed our poor nephew, just as you killed the other. Aegon had potential, Aemond, whether you believe it or not." 

"He is a drunk-"

"Yes, but he pleased the smallfolk before sinking into his cups. They were happy and eager to accept him as their ruler. He will now ignore them, and with the ever-impulsive Cole at his side... it will not be long before we are ruined by one or the other, Aemond." (Y/N)'s thumb delicately stroked along his cheek, his eyes softening but the coldness tittering at the edges. Aemond leaned into his touch, his knitted brows easing as he soaked in the words of his brother.

"Aegon cannot rule, and neither can Cole," Aemond murmured, pressing himself further into (Y/N)'s hand when his brother gave a nod. "What is it you believe we must do?"

"Rook's Nest. Our sister will not be allowed to turn her cheek away when Cole and Uncle's army descends upon it, and neither will Aegon. He desires to prove himself, you've seen it. He'll try to in battle... and when he does, he must.. fall to injury. Vhagar knows the taste of war, and with you as her rider, Cole will have no choice but to ignore whatever it is you do. The Council will favor me over Mother as regent whilst Aegon recovers."

"And what will you do once you are named Prince Regent?" 

(Y/N)'s lips curled upward and he bent down, both hands cupping Aemond's face to press their lips together. The action caught him by surprise, but the twinge of longing for a loving hand shot through his veins. The teachings from the septas and maesters told him it was wrong, but Targaryens were no ordinary men; the blood of the dragon coursed through them. Aemond pushed into him, rising from his chair to encircle his arms around (Y/N)'s waist. (Y/N)'s grip tightened and he forced Aemond to lean back.

"You... will be named Hand." (Y/N) told him, and Aemond's shoulders straightened, his single violet eye gleaming. He'd always be meant for such a position, and as much as Cole had been a father to him, he was still the mere son of a steward; someone hardly meant for the position of Hand.

(Y/N)'s grip loosened into a gentle touch, coaxing Aemond to lean into it once more. "I will not risk the fall of this family, Aemond, not like this. Enough of our sacred blood has been spilled. I will do what our mother and brother and grandsire failed to do. If Rhaenyra has withheld as much as she has in search of peace, I will test how desperate she is to obtain it."

[slavicdelight]

The High Tower and the Dragon's Heir

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x male!Targ!reader

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

Warnings: none, following canon divergence

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

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

Thank you 😊

Young Aemond Targaryen crushing on his non identical twin brother

Tags : Targcest

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[gulnarsultan]

Could you do a fic where aemond is yandere for his Tyrell wife who is like a more innocent and naive Margery but is equally as sharped tongued but without thinking about it. And how she is view as the most beautiful woman in Westeros and all the lords that once wanted her hand in marriage still fond over her even after she married aemond, and it doesn’t help that she seems to only be able to have healthy strong sons. Like her and aemond already got like 6 boys and she prego with the next and surprise surprise it’s another boy!

Hello dear. I hope you like it.

》 Sapphire and Rose 《

Many Lords were jealous of Prince Aemond. Prince Aemond had the most beautiful and fertile woman in Westeros. Lady Tyrell had many nicknames. Rose of Highgarden, the most beautiful and intelligent woman in Westeros, the woman blessed with a fertile womb. These were just a few of the nicknames. When Lady Tyrell reached the age of marriage, many Lords began competing to marry her. However, no one thought that Prince Aemond would have this beauty. The wedding of Prince Aemond and Lady Tyrell was very lavish and expensive. Prince Aemond was a possessive, protective, obsessive and jealous husband. After their wedding, Lady Tyrell rarely left their shared room. In fact, she was a sweet and obedient wife to her husband. Their marriage was blessed with six truly healthy sons. All of the children had inherited the Targaryen genes of their father Aemond. Lady Tyrell had become pregnant for the seventh time and given birth to another baby boy. This baby, like his brothers before his, had inherited the Targaryen genes. The man who was most jealous of this situation was undoubtedly Lord Borros Baratheon. He had been among the men who had wanted to marry Lady Tyrell in the past. News of each new Prince was salt in Barros's wounds. The fact that he had only four daughters had crushed his honor and pride. And the fact that the one-eyed Prince had seven male heirs made Barros' blood boil with jealousy. Prince Aemond was very vain about his sweet wife and the children they had together. He was not shy about showing off his chest in front of everyone.

[lady-ashfade]

Please do a alicent hightower x rhaenrya targayren twin brother who she marries and become princess consort. Alicent want him to herself ,so she tries break relationship with the male oc and rhanearya.

Manipulation

Yandere!Alicent Hightower x Male!Reader

I made this last night very late, the sun rising. But I just now reread it and idk if you meant rhaenrya marrying the reader or Alicent. But I made this think Alicent married the reader because that’s what I did all the way through until I went back to edit it. I apologize but I still hope you like it!

Warnings: Yandere tactics, manipulation, obsession, stalking, one mention of something gory.

Readers very existence changed everything about what happened, there would be no war. Do to the reader being the first born son, raised along side rhaenrya he would be it’s rightful hair.

Aemma was proud to have birthed a son for Viserys and a beautiful daughter. She loved her children and always kept a close eye on them, them both being strong headed.

Viserys loved both of them equally. But most of his time was filled with teaching y/n how to be a man and one day a king. From the age of three he took y/n with him on hunts, a memory he cherishes deeply. Rhaenrya was with her mother and was the talk of all the ladies as they gushed over her Beauty.

This being said rhaenrya was raised to believe in her brother who she loved to death. He was her twin and the gods created them together to be in this world. So as time went on she did not resent her brother because she did not feel like she was being replaced for a male heir.

Alicent knew y/n for a short time while she was by the young princess side. Y/n loved to play with rhaenrya and in his free time spent most of it with her. Alicent, being her best friend, was there a lot. He was charming and even though he was younger she never failed to blush when he would comment her. He was a gentleman, his mother and father made sure of it. But y/n never really payed that much attention because he was talking with his sister.

A feeling started to fill her mind of wanting his attention to on her so she started to speak up more. She’d dropped somethings and the reader would help, or get close to him and say something. Her crush got deeper and within a year after realizing, she had fallen deeply in love with the prince. Her attitude started to change when he was around and become all about him. Butting in on conversations, grabbing his arms slightly.

Things took a change when the prince was sent to study in Pentos and around the world to become a better king. Alicent was heartbroken over this news and she cried for days. She never was the same again. After two years her obsession slowly faded but she always seemed to think of him when she got lost in thought. His laugh, the way he made her smile and feel.

Rhaenrya looked passed her obsession for a small crush and did not blame Alicent back then since they were children. Her brother was a handsome boy and she couldn’t blame alicent. Tho, she did like to tease her friend sometimes.

Alicent and Rhaenrya sat together while Alicent read to her. They laughed and tried to get by with rhaenryas consent bickering and pokes of fun. But the city rang of a dragons roar and a deep one at that, their eyes looked up and saw a black dragon with spikes fly above them and casted a shadow down.

Rhaenrya hops up with a huge smile and a laugh, “He’s back.” She shot up and ran off without another word. Alicent was panicking to grab all the stuff she had brought and follow the princess. As she ran her chest filled with butterflies and her mind flashing of images of the boy she remembers. He was still young but could he have grown a beard? How tall was he now? Would he remember her, or better yet, would he be kind to her? She felt sick but her feet ran faster to see her prince.

When they got outside to the dragon pits she placed the books on the ground and grabbed ahold of rhaenrya in excitement. They watch his dragon land and the ground shake below their feet. The beasts mouth opened and screamed at the top of its lungs, a faint male voice shouting. Y/n petted his dragon and spoke to it and laughed. Everyone saw their prince stepping off his dragon and he looked different. His pale skin and freshly cut silky white hair, his frame grown and more muscly toned.

“Quite the entrance brother. Always loved attention.” Rhaenrya pulled away from Alicent and walked towards her brother with a fake face. The boy turned with a smiled while taking off his gloves, “And you dear sister, being betrothed to Lord Strong? Quite a lovely tale.” He smirked as they stood a few steps away from each other.

Rhaenrya broke and leaped towards her brother and hugged him close, his arms wrapping around her and lifting her up. The two laughed in joy to be reunited together again after years. The hug lasted a few seconds before he placed her back on the ground but still holding onto each other. “We must see mother and father at once.” Rhaenrya smiled and tugged him backward with her.

“I’m sure they eagerly await your return.” A new voice pulled the twins apart and around. Y/n took a moment and his breath hitch’s as a bigger smile popped onto his face. Alicent Hightower, the girl who always was kindhearted and soft. It seems her beauty grew with age. She was once’s one of the most beautiful girl he has ever seen but now he is not sure she could be topped in rank.

“Alice Hightower?” He let go of rhaenrya and walked closer and the brunette bowed her head down in respected. “It seems you both grew into beautiful woman, how jealous the other ladies must be.” Her cheeks flushed and the pressure in her chest she felt all those years ago returned. But harder then before. Rhaenrya rolled her eyes at his comment and pulled his arm. “Mother will not like you taking long to see her. Neither father really.” Alicent watched his attention go back to rhaenrya and she felt anger.

Alicent from there got his attention anyway she could. Learning his schedule and always “Bumping” into him at times. Or how she’d dress in prettier dresses to show herself off. Y/n found his alone night walks to never be alone with the hands daughter following him everywhere.

Otto did the same thing he did to Viserys and pushed his daughter into y/n. But Alicent was already doing it by herself and had no problem. Slowly otto got into the kings mind of marrying the two.

“Any girl peak your interest my boy?” Viserys asked while they chatted in the kings chamber. “Have you already picked a woman for me?” His father only smiled and patted his back and took the figure from his sons hands and placed it back down. “You are the future king but my son, I want you to find a match like I did with your mother.” Y/n smiled and looked back down. “There is this one girl…” Viserys cheered and shook his sons shoulders more.

“Is it the Lady Alicent?” The boys head shot up and looked surprised to hear her name. “I see the way you look at her, or the way she looks at you.”

“She’s kind, will make a loving queen.”

Alicent was surprised when one day the reader asks her to take a walk with him in the garden without rhaenrya. But she didn’t hesitated to take his arms and walk with him. The reader was sweet when he asked her to marry him and had a fresh flowers picked just for her. He said she did not have to marry him if did not want but the thought didn’t even cross her mind.

After the betrothal she started to pull the reader away from everyone to keep him to herself. Especially rhaenrya. The thought of having to share her darling made her fingers dug into her skin at the thought. The reader was hers, only hers.

Alicent didn’t even want the reader be around his family at the wedding. Rhaenrya couldn’t even ask for a dance without Alicent pulling him on the dance floor by herself.

The castle saw less and less of him because if he wasn’t studying or with the king, then he was with Alicent. Aemma got to see her son if he had time but rhaenrya was out of the question. The dinner table was awkward with tension between the girls. If rhaenrya was around then Alicent would be right at the readers side.

Reader is so blind to see what’s happening. Alicent is good at playing the innocent girl so he suspects nothing of her manipulating tactics. She is his wife and he needs to care and love her, plus he is very busy with heir things so it is no one’s fault he doesn’t get to see his family anymore.

But does shit get worse she Alicent announces she is pregnant. You think her possessiveness is bad before then this is like hell. You study with in your chamber at the table while Alicent relaxes and reads. She wished for this child since you came back so she loved it dearly, even happy about it as she rubs her belly and whispers. “You are a gift of our love, he has given you to me.”

You love your wife dearly so you do anything you can to make this easy for her. Until the death of your mother happens. She was pregnant again, surprising everyone after years of no children being born. But sadly died in childhood birth along with your baby brother. Everything gets hard on you.

You sneak around to comfort your sister when Alicent thinks your out at the library, or your father when you can since you still see him a bit. Everything is hell and they all look for you but Alicent has you in her clutch.

I haven’t mentioned Daemon yet so here it is. Hates Alicent since he watched her flirt with you in the halls or at feast when you came back. Hates her so freaking much for stealing you away from your twin and even him, platonically. His anger gets more like rhaenrya when she kept you away from your family and took over your mind. Thinks she was a witch and put a spell on you, drugged you, or even threatened you if you did not love her. He constantly tries to get you away.

After months of mourning and your mental state being drained your body was restored by one second of seeing your son. He was so tiny and beautiful. He looked like you so much and you took him in your arms and cradled him. You cheered around the room that you had a son and praised your wife for her hard work. Making sure she had the best of medication and care after. Alicent loved that you focused on the babe while knowing it was a new way to keep you with her.

Aegon was his name, and he was raised by a loving father. Next, a daughter who you were very protective over with her strange like ways but loves her no less. Then your son aemond who couldn’t hatch a dragon egg but you held no grudge. You would tell him stories of how one day he will have a dragon and you will help him hunt it. Daeron your youngest who took mostly after you, his kindness and level head.

Your children grew to be just as protective of you as their mother and hated to let you go. Always kicking and screaming when you tried to leave and cry, they were slightly spoiled. But they followed you around like ducklings and the boys tried to act like you. Even watching you practice and copying your moves, walking even and everything about you. Rhaenrya had children and you wanted to be in their lives so you forced Alicent to have the children spend time with them. You missed your family and it was time to be together.

Oh, but did your kids hate rhaenryas kids- Well, Helaena and Daeron didn’t mind because she was sweet, and Daeron was off in old town. But Aemond and Aegon didn’t like their cousins every much. They hated when you gave them attention or trained them as well, so they’d trip the boys or do something to get your attention.

Rhaenrya tried to talk to Alicent about how she wished no harm to steal you away in hopes to calm her down. Maybe even hang out with you once and a while. But Alicent didn’t give up.

Not only did you have a yandere for a wife, but Yandere children as well who can manipulate you. You belonged to them and no one else.

Extra because why not:

The only way I see Rhaenrya trying to take back the throne is with Daemon in her ear. They see how Alicent has you in control and knows she could do anything. It wasn’t about you because if Alicent was never in the picture you would be a good king. But now Daemon thinks that Rhaenrya needs to have a claim to the throne as well.

Rhaenrya named her fourth child after the reader and Alicent gets pissed about it. Even asks/screams for her to change it because she had no right.

Aegon is different from the show and is more..Better? A loving parent can make all the difference so he turns out, kinda okay. Don’t get me wrong he’s still a dick but he’s better about it. But with the reader by his side actually trying to do good, Aegon wants to impress him and becomes a good man.

Aemond clings to y/n the most because he feels lesser then his siblings for the lack of a dragon which the reader never puts him down for. If the boys are teasing him all it takes is one word to dad and everything will be okay.

Helaena really loves her dad so much. He listens to her, reads to her or gets her bugs from around the world. Even asks her questions of what she is saying. Helaena feels a comfort in him unlike anyone else. She is a daddy’s girl for sure.

[arraxvelaryon]

DENIAL

rhaenyra targaryen x male!targaryen!reader

warnings: talk of death, targcest (but it is not acted upon???)

a/n: i apologise if this is bad. it’s the middle of the night and i’m bored (also english isn’t my first language) 🙏 also this is VERY short lol

“he killed lucerys.” the words felt odd to speak. he killed lucerys. he killed lucerys? he. killed. lucerys. no matter the amount of times the words were repeated in his head, he still could not believe them to be true. had aemond really killed his son? or was it just a nightmare that he very soon was going to wake up from?

“aemond killed lucerys?” he mumbled to himself as he paced around the dark bedchamber. he was gone. his little boy, whom he had taught to wield a sword and ride a horse, was gone. he felt every emotion, but at the same time, none.

“he killed him?” he asked his sister-wife, rhaenyra, who sat in one of the chairs in the room. he turned to look at her, searching for any odd sign that he might be dreaming. yet there was none. she looked as beautiful as usual. “tell me that this isn’t real, rhaenyra. tell me, please,” he begged, pathetically.

all the princess could do was look down at her folded hands in her lap, tears spilling from her eyes and landing on the skirt of her dress. she didn’t want to believe it herself, but now that she had seen the single wing that was left of arrax, she couldn’t deny the truth any longer.

“i saw his dragon,” she finally looked up at her husband. “he’s gone.” saying the words hurt more than anything she had ever experienced, yet she spoke them anyway. she spoke them to help her husband out of his denial-filled trance, but it didn’t seem to work.

“it could have been any dragon. there are several other dragons it could have been-“

“he’s gone, y/n.” she stood up, slowly moving towards the father of her children. “he’s not coming back.” her lip quivered, and so did his. she had never seen him cry before — at least, not really cry. sure, she had seen him get emotional, but never had his eyes ever shed a tear. sometimes, she had caught herself wondering if crying was even something he was able to do. but here he stood in front of her, tears filling his eyes, as the realization slowly drifted into his brain.

“i’ll kill him. i promise you, rhaenyra. i’ll kill aemond targaryen.”

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Could I request Aemond x a civilian reader that’s more or less been adopted into Rhaenyra’s family? Like she originally grew up on a farm of some sorts so she still has a lot to learn, a quick talker and often somethings blurting out things that she should think about before saying.

She’s with Jace and Luke when the family comes back for the lil “family reunion,” and ends up seeing Aemond for the first time during his training. She’s already been made aware of who he is, but she certainly isn’t expecting a hot blonde. Which prompts her to blurt out “you didn’t tell me your uncle was hot” during that tense little stare down. Everyone is mortified, but instead of being irrated, Aemond finds her boldness amusing, and her innocent oblivious quite cute. And having there own little dance alongside Hal and Jace during that rare moment of peace.

I just think Aemond deserves some love

The farm princess and the rough sapphire

Aemond x civilian reader warning : fluff, kiss, comfort, dysfunctional family, no use of Y/n Summary : In the entire Targaryen dynasty history, there has only been one record of an adoption from outside the family, a former civilian child now grown into the mockingly named Farm Princess finds herself with her adoptive sibling at the royal court and is not ashamed to admit her admiration and especially feelings for a certain one-eyed prince...where will this lead?

info : I'm so sorry that you had to wait so long dear anon i hope you like the story, it was really really fun to write and others too have fun reading and thank you for the request :)

ps : Aemond deserves every love and Jace+Hel were so cute

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The dnyaste of the dragonrider family of the house of targaren was no millennia old, starting with Daenerys the dreamer, the woman who would change a whole continent in the future with their reign and the dragons the family brought with her.

From the initial three conquerors, the battles began within their own family and continued for more or less a century after Ageon's conquest until the reign of King Viserys, the first of his name, and his second wife Alicent.

Slowly they began to fporm themselves there, but this was a matter for the future, whereas his daughter, the jewel of the realm, had problems of her own in love and at court. The former friendship long forgotten, her kind heart had found feelings and emotions in motherhood when she gave birth to her first son Jacaerys, only a few years younger than his uncle Aegon, her half-brother.

But shortly thereafter, as the princess established her own lineage, uprisings began outside King's Landing, uprisings of renegades of savages ravaging the inhabitants, matters the crown would settle with common soldiers, except that they were not common people.

Wild dragons ravaged the land, and village after village came to claim their people, ,,We want compensation! Someone must do something!" cried the crowds of commoners and for the first time in history, the king was stricken by his illness, Rhaenyra turned away from her former friend, now queen, and her stepmother, the Targayren princess and heiress to the throne won the hearts of all as she flew to the burning remains on her golden dragon Syrax and took from them the one survivor.

Her adopted daughter, the third princess of the realm after Helaena, the farm princess, was given the title of a girl of the same young age as her son, but a child who had had different beginnings.

A girl who had looked at her with wide eyes and had given orders to Syrax to give to the dragon and Rhaenyra couldn't help but laugh, ,,You are quite a dragon" she is said to have said when she had put the child on her dragon and had gnawed the streets of King's Landing.

The people loved her new princess and treated her not only with love but also with hope for better times...but all this was a long time ago seconds, days, months and years turned into another decade and after a long time the naughty child grew into a pretty but not quite noble young woman.

,,Who needs dragons when you have the people and a pitchfork?" she had once said as she watched her brothers tame Vermax and Arrax and Aegon and Helaena also got their dragons, her mother had Syrax and her uncle had Caraxes even the princess Rhaenys had Meylys and her adoptive father had Seasmoke only she didn't have a dragon but somehow she didn't want one either.

She didn't have dragon blood, she wasn't even a bastard child she was adopted through her body so she knew the blood flowed from farmers who had been there for generations and were in the service of the crown she was the highest of the people on the streets but a dragon no.

,,Remember brothers, one should never underestimate the population like the ravens and the grain" she had said to Jace and Luce who were training the komandos with their dragons in Valyrian which she understood but hardly cared about how? She realized that she loved her family above all and was grateful to them.

Rhaenyra had saved her life, but politically or even family-wise she was worthless, ,,You are my daughter, my flame, my pretty dragon, don't you dare think otherwise" her mother always instructed her and gave her small gifts in the form of dragon or flame embroidered clothes and as much as she wore them for her family she also accepted the simpler clothes or those on which grain, wagons and other simple things were embroidered.

But as much as this life was beautiful, it was different when they went back to the city that had been the greatest for her since she could remember, ,,King's Landing! A disgusting city but my home!" she exclaimed as she clung to Rhaenyra's back as she flew towards the city with her mother she usually rode with the heiress to the throne her mother wanted to make her feel like a dragon at least and she enjoyed this with cheers and thankful hugs.

,,There's our home," Rhaenyra murmured and had to smile slightly when they flew over the dragon pit a few months later and landed there, but this was also quickly resolved and before the Targayren could pay attention to her daughter, the young woman had already disappeared on a horse she had been given as compensation for a dragon.

,,I'm in the inner courtyard, mother, don't worry!" she had shouted before the black horse had left and Rhaenyra could only shake her head slightly and face her family while her daughter searched for her brothers Jace and Luce.

It took a few minutes to get from the dragon pit to the inner courtyard, but on the way she was recognized by some of the inhabitants, who greeted her and enjoyed a little of the city's interior. It was really good to see familiar simplicity again and not always just Dragonstone, the castle of "her" ancestors, at least the ancestors who made everything possible for her.

With a grateful thought to her loving mother, however, she reached the courtyard and stopped her horse which was taken from her by a stable boy, but looking around she soon saw the crowd gathered around someone and she caught sight of two dark heads of hair, ,,Dragon tamer brothers! I've missed you!" she shouted stormily.

She hurried to the weapons display where she embraced her brothers, they had all grown older since the days of toys and wooden swords, they each carried real steel and she also preferred to have at least one bread knife hidden in her pencil, an old habit.

,,How nice that you're here, dear sister," Jace said and Lucerys nodded in agreement, the girl was thrilled to have someone else here, an adopted princess and three bastard children was a daring combination but they had somehow managed to keep the rumors at bay so far.

Just as she was about to vent about Jace's hair, she heard the clapping and tense murmuring and turned to the crowd standing around the two fighting, ,,Say, who's fighting there? " she asked and pointed with her finger, which was immediately taken down by Jace who tried to make them all look good, ,,Ser Criston Cole from the Kingsguard and our uncle Aemond" Luce said, who must have been watching the situation closely while his older brother was still at arms.

,,Aemond, you say," she murmured to her thoughts, vaguely remembering the quiet boy with whom she had spoken and played from time to time until they chased each other with earthworms and other crawling things and Alicent the queen stopped them because a peasant daughter should not play with a prince, but she did not stop her from going up and watching with her brothers. And what she saw amazed her.

Gone was the little boy, a young man stood there with long straight Targaryen light hair, a dark eye patch that hid the injury he had received from his brother. Fine sharp features and a lean but muscular body she could frame where the fabric allowed.

He was a god in her eyes, ,,You didn't tell me your uncle was hot," she simply spoke her thoughts openly as Aemond twirled the sword around as she was commanded to do so but his gaze, the gaze of his violet eyes was clear on her and the smile seemed almost pleased and amused at the same time.

A few of the crowd snapped indignantly at such vulgarity while Jace made himself small and Luce tried to hide slightly under his coat. So much for not doing anything.

But this seemed to be just the beginning when they were invited to a family dinner a few hours after the "incident" in the courtyard. Everyone was supposed to be on their best behavior, a time of peace in what was probably the last few months for her adoptive grandfather, her king, whom she never called her grandfather even though he had always insisted on it.

Viserys always had a smile for her, no matter when she told him about simple farm things or excitedly about armor, he liked his adoptive princess and did not despise her, ,,I am glad to see my family, my whole family here, living and happy like this, an old man who cares a lot," he finished his speech and even if he seemed to be in pain, it was something that made her smile, she was glad that Viserys thought he appreciated it and she held out a goblet to her king for the symbolic toast, which Aegon answered with an almost mocking laugh.

The prince had probably already poured too much into the cup anyway, she smelled his alcoholic fumes at several hundred meters and her comment, ,,Maybe you should be in a barrel instead of just the cup" only seemed to have pissed him off more and he gave her a warning look and tried her other family members instead.

While she had initially chatted with Baela and Rhaena about fishing and ships, she had given Lucerys courage as they drank and Jace had teased her about his hairstyle, she barely noticed the looks from the Queen, the Hand and Aegon. Looks of distaste, looks of no acceptance, ,,A truly exceptional round, Lord Husband," the brown-haired woman muttered, earning a warning look from Rhaenyra, who was about to stand up for her daughter when Jace slammed on the table over Aegon's comment.

The circle seemed to fall silent and again they didn't quite know what was going to happen next, ,,A round of peasant blood," Aegon muttered into his goblet, rolling his eyes and looking a lot more like his mother.

However, only seconds later he choked on it as the said farm princess threw a piece of bread at him and he looked like he was about to walk over to her when Aemond stood in his way and pushed his brother aside to get closer to the princess. She gave Aegon one last scowl of surprise before looking to Aemond in wonder, ,,Would my dear princesses dance with me?" he asked, seeming to want to join his sister and her nephews who were dancing.

Accepting his offer with a nod, ,,I'd love to, Aemond," she smiled at him dnakably and let herself be pulled out onto the open floor, about to start something wilder when she suddenly felt his other hand on her hip, paused, looked at him a little uncertainly and leaned towards him, ,,I can't do the Targaryen dance" she whispered and heard him smirk a little, seeing that he was no longer wearing an eye cap the darkness of his sapphire eye fascinated her and only made him look even more beautiful ,,Don't worry let me be your leading chariot" he said with a nod and seemed at least relieved that she didn't find him ugly like other ladies-in-waiting at the castle.

Relaxing, he began to move slightly, his own steps a veritable dragon dance as she guided the fire that seemed to be the sword he gently wielded around her, her dress making the movements look more fluid. ,,The sapphire suits you, Aemond," she murmured softly, feeling the brief twitch of his hand, his eye glancing briefly to the ground and lingering briefly on her lips before he thanked her as he spun her around and the two of them attempted a little dragon dance of their own, somewhat like Jace and Helaena.

Aemond with his polite dragon dance and she with her wild twirls and wide arm movements as they all danced together at the village festivals it was funny and their laughter could be heard over and over again as they touched hands and completely ignored the looks of the others that went from fascination to pride until the piece was over.

They both found each other one last time and held each other as the music became a little quieter again and they looked at each other, Aemond bowed and placed a kiss on the back of her hand, a gesture that made her heart beat faster and she stifled a giggle.

Before she simply responded, ,,Thank you my rough sapphire," she whispered and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek before sitting back down and taking a large sip from her goblet to calm her nerves but at least she had behaved in her own way.

And who knows, maybe the farm princess would end up with a dragon after all, a rough dragon from Saphier who appreciated her wares and together they could form a kingdom of outsiders together in love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ʟ ᴏ ᴠ ᴇ ᴍ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: Dark Aegon I Targaryen x Fem Reader

Summary: Aegon spends his life desperately trying to win the love of his sister. And yet he's never enough.

Warning: Non-Con (rape), targcest, physical violence, murder, obsessive and delusional behavior, child loss/grief.

Notes: English is not my first language. Art belong to Denis Maznev. Hope you enjoy!

She was always there.

From his earliest memories, her face is etched in his mind like a cold, pale moon. She never smiled, never laughed. Never cried. Just looked. Always watching, always silent. Even as children, while Rhaenys played with him, she was a shadow in the background. A constant presence that gnawed at him, her cold eyes watching him with that empty gaze. It was as if nothing could move her, nothing could please her. But he tried. Gods, how he tried.

He was barely seven, still small but proud of the sword his father had given him. He had trained for hours, his arms aching, his legs sore, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to show her. He wanted her to see him—really see him—for once.

He had run to her, his little chest puffed out with pride, holding his wooden practice sword like it was Blackfyre itself. "Look! Look what I can do!" he had said, his voice bright with excitement. He swung the sword in wide arcs, spinning and thrusting as best as his small body could manage. "Did you see that? I’m going to be a great warrior! You’ll see!"

But she just stood there. Watching. Her face expressionless, her eyes cold, as if she hadn’t seen anything at all. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t even blink. It was like he wasn’t there, like his efforts were meaningless.

He had felt something tighten in his chest then, a feeling he didn’t understand. A hollow ache that made his hands shake as he gripped the sword tighter. He tried again, swinging harder, faster. "Are you watching?!" he had shouted, frustration leaking into his voice.

But she didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Didn’t say anything.

She never did.

And that’s how it always was. Every time he tried, every time he showed her something—his victories in the yard, his skills in battle—she just watched. Her cold eyes always on him but never giving him what he craved. Never giving him anything.

But then, that day came. The day that broke something inside him.

He remembers the sound first. The sound of her laughing. It was so foreign, so unexpected that he almost didn’t believe it at first. He had stopped in his tracks, heart racing, the sound of her laughter echoing in his ears like the sweetest music he’d ever heard. For a moment, just a moment, he thought it was meant for him. Finally, he thought, she was laughing. She was happy. Maybe, just maybe, he had done something to make her feel.

But then he saw it.

She wasn’t laughing with him. She wasn’t laughing for him.

She was laughing with a man. Some nobody. A fool. A good-for-nothing who could never even begin to understand her, let alone deserve her. And yet, there she was, her eyes shining, her lips curved into a smile—something Aegon had never seen in all his life. She was radiant, her laughter like music, but it wasn’t for him.

The rage came fast, burning through his veins like fire. How dare this man, this insignificant speck, be the one to bring her joy? How dare she smile for him, laugh for him, when she had never once given Aegon anything but that cold, dead stare? He could hardly see through the fury as he drew his sword, his heart pounding in his ears, and with one swift strike, he cut the man’s head clean off.

The blood sprayed across the floor as the man's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, useless. And Aegon, triumphant, stood there holding the severed head, his heart racing with the thought that maybe now—now—she would see how much he loved her.

He brought the head to her, a smile tugging at his lips, presenting it like a gift, like an offering to a goddess.

But then, for the first time, he saw her cry.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, silent, like everything else about her. She didn’t wail or scream, just wept, her cold, distant eyes filled with sorrow. But not for him. Never for him. The realization hit him like a dagger to the chest. She wasn’t crying for him. She was mourning the other man, that worthless fool.

Could she not see? Could she not understand what he had done? He had killed for her. For her. To prove his love. Why couldn’t she see that?

It was worse now. So much worse.

He stands in the room, their child’s room, staring at the small bed where their son had once slept. His heart is heavy, his chest tight with grief that he can’t seem to swallow. Tears burn in his eyes, but he doesn’t care. Their child is dead. Gone. And he can barely breathe from the weight of it.

But when he looks at her, she’s standing by the window, her back to him, staring out into the night as if nothing had happened. As if their son wasn’t lying cold and still in the crypts below.

She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t even move.

His son, their child, lay lifeless, and yet...she didn’t care. She couldn’t care. The realization gnawed at him, twisting in his chest like a knife. If it had been another man’s child, would she be mourning now? Would she cry for that child, like she had cried for that worthless fool?

"Do you...do you not care?" His voice cracks, the words barely a whisper. He feels like he’s choking on the silence. "He was our child. Our son." His hands tremble, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Why… why?"

She doesn’t answer. Of course, she doesn’t.

She never answers.

The hollow ache that had plagued him since childhood is back, sharper than ever. He stares at her, at her still, cold form, and something inside him snaps. He can feel it, like a tether breaking, a dam bursting inside his mind.

"Why?" he growls, his voice low, trembling with fury. "Why can’t you love me? Is it really so hard?!" He steps toward her, fists clenched, his heart hammering in his chest. "I’ve done everything for you. Everything!"

His hands shake as he grabs her by the shoulders, spinning her around to face him. She looks at him with that same blank, emotionless expression, her eyes cold and distant, as if she’s not even here. As if she’s not even alive.

"I killed for you!" His voice is rising, desperate, wild. "I’ve fought for you, bled for you! I’ve done everything you could ever want, but you—" He pauses, his breath coming in harsh gasps as a dark, twisted thought coils in his mind. "Is this because of him? Because I killed that servant? Did you really think he could love you more than I do? That he deserved you? Him?"

His grip tightens, fingers digging into her flesh. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, the rage coursing through his veins. "I am the one who loves you. I’m the one who’s always loved you!"

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t react. Just stares at him with those empty, cold eyes.

The silence is unbearable. It breaks him.

With a roar, he grabs her dress, tearing at the fabric, ripping it apart in his hands. He’s rough, vicious, his fingers leaving bruises on her pale skin as he forces himself onto her.

She doesn’t fight back. Doesn’t scream. She just lies there, blank, her body cold and still beneath his. The more she doesn’t react, the harder he thrusts, the rougher he becomes, as if he can force her to feel something—anything. He can feel the blood, can see the bruises forming on her skin, but she just keeps staring at him, those empty eyes boring into him, cold and unfeeling.

But it didn’t matter.

She will love me. She will.

"You will love me," he growls, his voice low and savage, each thrust more brutal than the last. "You will love me. You’ll see. I’ll make you."

But she doesn’t change. She never changes.

Even as her body bleeds, even as he takes her in the most violent, twisted way, she just looks at him with that same cold, distant stare. As if he’s nothing. As if nothing will ever be enough.

Her eyes stayed cold.

Her eyes stayed empty.

And still, he kept going.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Serial Killer Aegon x Victim Reader

Summary: you just wanted to enjoy the night with your best friend and getting fucked. But what was waiting for you was much more scary than anything you had ever expected...

Warning: kidnapping, blood, abuse, unwanted touch, murder.

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

Original Gif by @lady-alicent ♡

The mirror gleamed back at Y/N as she carefully applied the finishing touches to her makeup, the sleek red dress clinging to her curves in all the right ways. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the silky strands catching the light of the vanity. Tonight, she was going to be unstoppable. On speaker, her best friend Emily's voice filled the room, excitement buzzing between them as they planned their night out.

"Girl, I swear, tonight's the night. I will get laid" Emily laughed, the sound infectious, pulling a giggle from Y/N.

"Are you sure, though? You've been talking about this for weeks. Are you finally going to get with Tom?" Y/N teased, brushing some highlighter across her cheekbones.

"Hell yeah! I'm gonna fuck his brains out!" Emily declared dramatically, causing both of them to erupt into laughter. "But what about you? Don't think I didn't see how Oliver was staring at you last time. That man is ready to risk it all."

Y/N smirked, lining her lips with a deep crimson. "Oh, Oliver won't know what hit him tonight" she winked at herself in the mirror, confident. "By the end of this party, he's going to be begging."

Emily cackled, making another inappropriate joke that had Y/N snorting, her mascara brush shaking slightly in her hand. "God, Emily, you're gonna make me mess up my makeup."

"I cant help it, you're gonna make himー"

Suddenly, Y/N froze mid-laugh. In the corner of her eye, she caught something ーa shadow shiftingby the window, just out of her line of sight. Her heart skipped, an eerie prickle crawling up her spine.

"What's wrong?" Emily's voice came through the phone, concern creeping into her playful tone.

Y/N blinked, her eyes darting around the room. Everything was still. Quiet. The only sound was Emily's distant voice on the phone. She let out a breath, forcing smile as if it could push away the unease settling in her gut. "Nothing, I just thought I saw something."

"Probably just your nerves. You've got Oliver on the brain too much!" Emily teased, bringing the conversation back to its lightheartedness.

"Yeah, you're right," Y/N muttered, trying to shake off the strange feeling. She continued applying her makeup, but every now and then, her gaze flicked back to the window. That uneasy chill hadn't left, a quiet whisper in her mind that something wasn't quite right. But it was probably nothing.

At least, that's what she told herself.

The night was pitch black, the only light coming from the dim glow of Y/N’s headlights as they cut through the lonely, desolate road. Trees stretched out on either side, their branches twisting together to form a canopy of shadows. The once lively conversation with Emily had died down to a nervous exchange of directions as Y/N found herself completely lost in the maze of unfamiliar back roads.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Y/N asked, her voice tight with frustration, gripping the wheel a little too hard. The GPS had stopped working a while ago, leaving her utterly reliant on Emily’s instructions.

“I swear, Y/N, it’s the right way! Just keep going straight, and you’ll see a sign soon, I promise,” Emily’s voice reassured her, though it did little to calm the rising anxiety bubbling in her chest.

Straight. That’s all she had to do. But the road seemed endless, stretching out in front of her like a void, each passing second growing thicker with unease. Y/N glanced around, her stomach flipping as the dark woods loomed over her. It felt like something was watching from the trees.

"Emily, I don’t see anything—" Y/N began, but her words were cut off in a scream as a figure suddenly appeared from the darkness, leaping in front of her car.

THUD.

The impact jolted her entire body forward, the screech of brakes cutting through the stillness as the car skidded to a halt. Y/N’s heart was racing, pounding so hard she could barely breathe. The world outside was silent again, but the deafening thud of the hit echoed in her ears, over and over.

“Y/N? Y/N! What the hell just happened?!” Emily’s voice was frantic, but Y/N barely heard her.

She stared ahead, wide-eyed, her hands trembling on the wheel. What just happened? Did I hit him? Did I just… kill someone?

Her throat was dry as she swallowed, trying to steady herself. "I… I think I hit someone. I’m not sure." Her voice was shaky, barely above a whisper.

“What?! Are you okay?! What happened?” Emily’s voice was nearly drowned out by the ringing in Y/N’s ears, her panic rising with every passing second. Y/N’s hands moved to unbuckle her seatbelt, her body feeling as if it was moving on autopilot. "I need to check. I’ll call you back."

“What? No, wait—” Y/N hung up, her mind spinning with terror as she opened the door and stepped out into the suffocating darkness. The wind was cool, but her skin prickled with cold sweat. The night was unnaturally quiet, save for the rapid beating of her heart in her ears.

Her eyes landed on the crumpled figure lying in the road just ahead, and her stomach lurched. She could barely see him in the dim light of her car’s headlights, his body twisted at an unnatural angle. Every instinct screamed for her to run, but her feet moved forward, her breath shallow.

She knelt beside the man, her hands trembling as she reached out. "Hey… Hey, are you okay?" Her voice cracked, almost pleading. She shook his shoulder gently, her breath catching in her throat. Please don’t be dead. Please, God, don’t be dead.

He didn’t respond, his body limp. Y/N’s heart plummeted. For a horrifying moment, she thought she’d killed him. I hit him, I really hit him. What if he’s dead? What if I—

But then she noticed it—his chest, rising and falling slowly. He was still breathing.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, a wave of relief crashing over her. "Oh, thank God…" she muttered, her hands moving to check for any sign of consciousness. "Hey, can you hear me? You’re gonna be okay, I’ll get you help. Just hang on."

Her voice was trembling as she stood, rushing back to the car to grab her phone. Her hands fumbled with the door handle, her pulse pounding in her ears. She had to call for help. Get him to the hospital.

But just as she reached into the car for her phone, something hard and solid slammed into the back of her head.

Pain exploded through her skull, white-hot and blinding. Her vision blurred instantly, the world spinning as her body crumpled to the ground. Her mind scrambled to make sense of what was happening, but all she could register was the unbearable, crushing pain.

She tried to blink away the darkness closing in around her, her breaths ragged and desperate, but the force of the blow had knocked her senses loose. Through the dizzy haze, she saw him—the man she had just hit, standing above her with a rock in his hand. The sickening realization crashed into her like a freight train.

It was a trap.

Her heart raced, adrenaline surging through her, but her limbs felt heavy, numb. She wanted to scream, to fight, but her vision was dimming, the pain dragging her under. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the man’s cold, emotionless face, looming over her as she slipped into the abyss.

Y/N's consciousness flickered like a dying flame, dragging her unwillingly from the void. The pain in her head was the first thing she registered-an unbearable, spliting agony that pulsed in time with her heartbeat, making her feel like her skull was about to crack open. She groaned, but the sound came out muffled, trapped behind something in her mouth. Panic started to set in as she realized she couldn't open her jaw; the taste of dirty fabric filled her mouth. A gag.

Disoriented, she blinked slowly, trying to make sense of where she was. Her vision was blurry, her surroundings a nauseating haze of darkness and shadow. Everything reeked. The stench hit her all at once- thick, putrid, suffocating. It was a mix of urine, sweat, blood, and something far more decayed. The smell clawed at the back of her throat, making her gag against the cloth. She fought back the urge to vomit, knowing it would only choke her.

Her body felt... wrong. Heavy. Aching. Every muscle was sore, every inch of her skin stung with a dull, throbbing pain. When she tried to move, she realized why: she was tied up. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, the coarse rope biting into her wrists and cutting off circulation. Her legs were bound too, her ankles tied together so tightly she could barely wiggle her toes.

Where the hell am I? The last thing she remembered was... the man. The man she had hit. Her heart jumped into her throat, the memory rushing back to her all at once一the impact, the body on the road, the moment of relief when she realized he was still breathing. And then... then he had attacked her. Everything went black after that. And now I'm here.

Her breath quickened as she took in her surroundings. The room was small, cramped, with walls so grimy she could barely tell their original color. Blood smeared the walls in splatters and streaks, both fresh and old, the sickening reminder of whatever horrors had taken place here before. There were stains on the floor, dark, sticky patches that made her skin crawl. And then she noticed the other things一flesh, torn and hanging like trophies from hooks. Bones, carelessly strewn on the floor, cracked and splintered. She wanted to scream, but the gag silenced her, the terror building in her chest until it felt like she might suffocate on it.

But she wasn't alone.

In the dim light, she saw them-other women. At least five of them, maybe more. All of them were bound like her, gagged, naked, their bodies bruised and filthy. Some of them were barely conscious, their heads lolling weakly, while others stared at her with wide, terrified eyes. There was something about their expressions that sent ice shooting down her spine-those hollow, desperate eyes, like animals resigned to their fate.

One of them, a woman with tear-streaked cheeks and a gag so tight it had rubbed her mouth raw, met Y/N's gaze. She shook her head slowly, almost imperceptibly, her eyes full of warning. It was as if she was trying to tell her something, something Y/N didn't yet understand. Don't move. Don't fight. Don't make a sound.

But Y/N wasn't like them. She couldn't just sit here and wait to die. Fear surged through her veins, but so did adrenaline. She had to get out. I have to get out.

Slowly, carefully, she began to squirm, trying to shift her weight without making too much noise. Every movement was agonyーher wrists felt like they were being sliced open by the ropes, and her muscles screamed in protest. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. If she stayed here, she was dead.

As she inched her way toward the door, the other women watched her, their eyes filling with fresh tears, their bodies trembling as they silently begged her stop. But she couldn't stop. She had to get free. She had to.

The closer she got to the door, the more hope flickered inside her-until she fell. Her hands slipped, and her body hit the floor with a dull thud. She landed in something wet and slimy, the smell assaulting her senses immediately. It was a disgusting mix of rotting food, excrement, and something else- something thick and foul that clung to her skin and made her gag. Her stomach churned violently, the bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down, focusing on the door just a few feet away.

But then the door creaked open.

The sound was slow, deliberate, and it filled the room like a death knell, Y/N froze, her heart hammering in her chest, her body tensing as the dim light from the hall spilled into the room.

He stepped inside.

The man. The same man she had hit with her car. He stood in the doorway, his silhouette tall and menacing, his face twisted into a sickening grin. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on Y/N, his expression darkened. Rage boiled just beneath the surface of his face, twisting his features into something monstrous.

"What do we have here?" he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

Before Y/N could even try to scramble away, he was on her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her up, dragging her across the filthy floor as she screamed against the gag. Pain shot through her scalp, white-hot and unbearable, but the terror that gripped her heart was even worse. He was going to kill her. He was going to kill her right now.

"You stupid, stupid girl" he hissed, his voice thick with venom as he dragged her back to where she'd been. "You thought you could just leave? You thought you could escape?" He threw her down onto the cold floor, kicking her hard in the stomach for good measure.

The breath was knocked from her lungs, and for a moment, everything went dark. She gasped for air, her body convulsing in pain, but she couldn't get enough oxygen. Her vision blurred, her mind spinning with fear and panic. This is it. I'm going to die.

"You should be thankful l'm not going to punish you further;" he spat, kneeling down beside her, his breath hot and rancid against her face. "You're new. I'm feeling generous today."

Y/N's body shook uncontrollably as she lay there, too weak and terrified to move. But then, just as quickly as the anger had come, his expression changed. The rage melted away, replaced by something far more sinister. His hand, still tangled in her hair, began to stroke her scalp gently, his voice softening as if he hadn't just brutalized her.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, his tone dripping with faux concern. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You just made me so... angry. it's your fault, you know? If you hadn't tried to leave.." His fingers trailed down her neck, his touch lingering on her skin as he murmured, "You're so beautiful. So.. perfect."

"Soft," he murmured, as though admiring the texture of fabric instead of skin. He leaned in closer, inhaling deeply as he buried his face in her hair, his breath warm and sickening against her skin. "You smell so good... You're going to make the perfect doll."

Y/N's mind spun with confusion and horror. Doll? What did that mean? She wanted to scream, to thrash and fight, but her body felt like it was frozen, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion. Her tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks as she trembled beneath his touch.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as his hand slid lower, caressing her naked body with possessive, almost reverent strokes. His fingers traced the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips. He was taking his time, savoring the touch, the control, the power. Y/N felt sick, her stomach twisting in knots as she lay there, helpless, her mind screaming for it to stop. But she couldn't Scream. She couldn't move.

"You're going to be perfect" he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "Just... perfect."

She wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and never exist again. But all she could do was lie there, paralyzed by fear and disgust, as he continued to touch her. His hands roamed over her body, his breath hot and heavy against her skin. Every touch felt like fire, burning into her flesh, marking her. She could feel his excitement, his anticipation, and it made her want to vomit.

Then, suddenly, he stood up.

“Not today" he said, smiling down at her with a look of twisted affection. "Today isn't your day."

Y/N's stomach lurched as she realized what he meant. Not her day. But soon. Her tears blurred her vision, her entire body shaking uncontrollably as she tried to scream through the gag. She couldn't stop the sob that broke through, muffled but desperate.

He laughed softly, brushing her hair out of her face with a gentleness that felt like a mockery of kindness. "Shhh" he cooed, "don't cry. You'll ruin your pretty face. And I love your face."

Before she knows it, the man turned his attention to one of the other women-a blonde who had been sitting silently in the corner, her eyes wide with terror. Without a word, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her to her feet with a sickening cruelty. The woman's body convulsed in terror, her eyes filling with tears as she let out a muffled scream behind her gag.

She struggled weakly, her limbs trembling, but it was no use. He dragged her toward the door, pulling her like a rag doll, her body limp with fear. She was looking at her. Like a lamb. Wide eyes. Begging for help. But Y/N couldn't do anything.

Y/N watched in horror as the door slammed shut behind them. The remaining women in the room sobbed softly, the sound of their crying mixing with Y/N's own frantic breaths.

Then the noise began.

The sound of metal on flesh, a sharp, wet thwack followed by a crunch that made Y/N's blood run cold. The woman's faint cries echoed through the walls, but they were quickly drowned out by the sickening sound of the ax splitting flesh and bone. The rhythm was steady, methodical, like someone chopping wood ーonly it wasn't wood. lt was human.

Y/N closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. All she could do was wait, knowing that soon... it would be her turn.

Should I make a part 2?

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

[0silver0dreams0]

"Whispers of Devotion"

Yandere House of the dragon x ModernReborn!Reader Pt. 2

Summarized: Despite her mother, Queen Consort Alicent's attempts to control her, (your name) felt a stronger attachment to Rhaenyra and her children, which created jealousy and tension within the family. Aemond's frustration at not having a dragon fueled his anger, which grew daily, especially after Laena's tragic death. This escalating conflict ultimately led to a tragedy.

Warning: mentions blood, eye of Aemond taken out, incest, vulgar languege and a little of angst.

<< Pt. 1

Sunlight streamed through the window, accompanied by the giggling voices of small children, curious at the sight of a little baby, only a year old, as they tried to make her speak. The two children were trying to get her to say their names, each hoping that she would utter even the faintest hint of recognition, perhaps even a small peek of one of their names.

"Come on, (your name), it's easy—Helaena, or Ena, please," the girl said slowly, hoping that speaking more clearly would help. "No, no, Aegon," the boy interjected, "(your name), Aegon is easier!" he insisted, eager for her to acknowledge him.

Their efforts were abruptly interrupted by the arrival of someone else.

"What are you two doing here?" the queen exclaimed, a hint of frustration in her voice. "We were just trying to get (your name) to say our names," Aegon replied, glancing nervously at his companion. "Sorry, Mother, we just wanted to spend time with (your name)." "Well, you both need to leave now. (Your name) is only a baby, and it's best if you go and play with Aemond or someone else. Poor girl," Alicent said, turning her attention to the baby.

Before the Queen could exit the room, the princess appeared. "My Queen, what are you doing with this precious girl?" Rhaenyra asked, much to Alicent’s displeasure, as she blocked her way. "Nothing much, I just took her for a brief stroll through the gardens." "Well, perhaps she could have a playdate with Jace. He’s eager to play with her, and maybe her brothers too." Alicent furrowed her brow, and before she could refuse the offer, Viserys entered the room. "I think that's a splendid idea," he said, dismissing the queen’s look of disapproval. "Then it’s settled, isn’t it, sweetheart?" Before the princess could take (your name) in her arms, Alicent objected, "Fine, I'll go with her," as she held (your name) close.

On the way to the rooms where Jacaerys were, there was a palpable tension. No one spoke, except for the little baby, who was utterly fascinated by her mother’s hair. When they entered the room, a little boy was playing alone. As soon as he noticed someone entering, he looked up.

“(your name)! She’s arrived!” The little boy exclaimed, rushing to Alicent. “Yes, she’s here, and she brought her brother's along too,” Rhaenyra said, her eyes sparkling with happiness at the boy’s excitement. “Can I hold her?” The boy asked, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. “No, she’s too small and delicate. I don’t want—” “Please, Alicent, it will be fine. She is a dragon, after all,” Rhaenyra interjected before Alicent could protest further, swiftly taking (your name) from her arms and into her own. “Just be careful. Hold her like this,” Rhaenyra instructed, placing the little girl into her son’s arms but keeping a bit of (your name)’s weight supported by her own. “See, it’s easy, isn’t it?” she asked, beaming at Jace. “Ye—” “No! What are you doing?! She’s mine! She’s my sister!” Aegon interrupted, protesting loudly.

Before anyone could react, the little boy seized the girl roughly, causing her to cry out from the jarring movement.

“Aegon! What are you doing?! Give me the child now!” Alicent scolded him angrily. “No! She’s mine—!” The boy’s protest was cut short by the sound of a slap, prompting Rhaenyra to swiftly take (your name) back into her arms, soothing the baby. “What were you thinking?! She could have been hurt because of your foolishness! What’s the matter with you?” “But it’s not fa—” Another slap was heard, “You will be punished, young man. You won’t see your sister, play, or even leave your room for a long time.” Alicent then took her son’s arm and led him out of the room, with Helaena following behind.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, it’s alright. I’m here, calm down, honey,” Rhaenyra cooed as she walked around the room, demonstrating to Jace how to hold (your name) properly. “Look, now it’s just the three of us. Do you like it?” she asked her older son. He simply nodded happily, his gaze fixed on (your name).

Just then, a maid entered the room.

“My Princess, it’s time for Prince Jacaerys’s lessons,” the maid announced. “Go on, sweetheart,” Rhaenyra encouraged. “Perhaps by the time your lessons are finished, (your name) will still be here.” With that, Jace hurried off with the maid.

Rhaenyra looked down at "her" daughter with a wistful smile. “My little girl, soon enough, you’ll be all mine. Your scheming mother won’t be around, and you’ll be with me all the time. Perhaps I can find a way to make that happen sooner.”

The rage and desperation grew with each passing year. You had become far too close to Rhaenyra for her liking. Even when she set boundaries, you wouldn’t listen. Even when she locked you in your chambers and punished you, you still wouldn’t listen. Even when she spoke ill of Rhaenyra and her bastards, calling them cruel by nature, or cursed your whore of a sister—claiming she cared nothing for duty or family—still, her precious child wouldn’t listen. Even if you were a little wary of them, you still preferred their company over hers or your brothers’. And, truth be told, she couldn’t entirely blame you. Aegon was Aegon, always deflecting blame for his own failings, jealous and cruel to anyone who didn’t fit his mould or threatened his swollen ego. Aemond and Helaena were peculiar in their own ways too, always lingering around her darling girl, bickering over who had your attention. Even Helaena, the strangest of all, wouldn’t leave your side. When you wished to rest, she would follow you to your chambers and sleep next to you, clutching you tightly, gifting you butterflies or little insects that you adored. Of course, she loved Helaena, but her oddities were sometimes too much. You were perfect—pure, intelligent, beautiful, kind—qualities neither Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, nor even Daeron possessed. And she was proud of you, proud of what you were.

But there were times when you angered her. She didn’t want to punish you, but you left her no choice. You wished to explore, to see the world, so she had to teach you that this was wrong, one way or another. You were supposed to be perfect. You are perfect, but sometimes you’re not, and that was unacceptable. That made her furious. Then she would punish you, reprimand you, give you more lessons than you could bear, or even lock you away in your chambers until you understood—you must be perfect. She believed she was only doing what was best for you, for your own good.

Even though you only wanted to be perfect, you longed to see the world, to go beyond King’s Landing, even if it was just to Dragonstone. But how could you do that to your mother? She only wanted what was best for you.

“(Your name)! What’s this?” Alicent stormed into the girl’s chambers. “It’s just a wooden sword, mother,” the girl answered, her face showing confusion. “You shouldn’t have this. This is not for a princess. What’s wrong with you, darling? You shouldn’t have this!” Alicent approached her, anger and bewilderment clouding her expression. “You’re grounded. You’re not to leave your room for the next two days. Maybe that will teach you how to behave.” “But, mother—” “NO MORE FIGHTING! I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF IT!”

(Your name) simply stared at the floor, defeated. Without a word of protest, she nodded. Alicent stormed out of the chamber, the sound of the door locking behind her echoing through the room.

Time passed, and when it was time for tea, no one came. That was normal when you were grounded—until Rhaenyra and Jacaerys entered your chambers, accompanied by maids carrying the tea.

“Hello, dear!” Rhaenyra greeted you warmly, with Jacaerys following behind her. “We heard your mother was being difficult. What if we have tea with you instead?” Rhaenyra moved to your side, taking your hand. “But she’ll be furious, Nyra. I don’t want to be grounded again,” you replied, worry evident in your voice. With a pitying look, Rhaenyra kissed your hand. “She won’t know we’re here.”

At that, a small smile appeared on your lips as you reached for the desserts Rhaenyra had thoughtfully brought—your favourites. Jacaerys stayed close, holding your hand as the three of you talked.

“How’s your dragon? I bet they’re incredible!” you asked excitedly.

“They’re amazing! Every lesson, we learn something new! But…” Jacaerys’ voice grew more irritated. “Aemond’s been hanging around again, and he doesn’t even have a dragon. He’s just there to annoy everyone.” “Well, he is Aemond,” you said with a laugh. “He’s just a bit too obsessed with dragons. Mother says he loves them more than anything else. But could you try to be nice to him? Please? He’s still my brother.”

After you spoke, you winced slightly as Jacaerys unintentionally squeezed your hand too tightly.

“Sorry, (your name), I didn’t mean to.” “It’s alright. It wasn’t on purpose,” you said with a smile.

Even though it was never openly discussed, everyone knew about Jacaerys’ quiet obsession with (your name) since you were a baby. He always wanted to be near you, and no matter how much Alicent tried to keep you isolated with endless lessons and punishments, they always found a way to see you. Even when Rhaenyra was busy with her own baby, she would sneak into your chambers, and somehow, they always got away with it. And you were happy for it. No matter how much Alicent, Aemond, or Helaena tried to intervene.

“A pig! They gave me a pig!” Aemond’s furious voice echoed through the corridors of the Red Keep. His footsteps were heavy with frustration as he stormed towards your mother’s chambers. Your heart sank; you knew this wasn’t going to end well.

You rushed down the hall, your small feet trying to keep up. Aemond had always been so determined to prove himself, and once again, he’d come back from the dragonpit humiliated. Jace, Luke, and Aegon had gone too far this time. You always tried to keep them from fighting, but this… this was bad. His shouting grew louder as you neared the room. When you entered, Aemond was pacing like a trapped animal, his face red with anger, and his silver hair messy. Your mother stood nearby, looking pale and worried. She had tried to calm him, but Aemond was beyond listening now.

“They mock me!” he shouted, his purple eyes blazing as he turned to you. “They gave me a pig, (your name). A pig with wings! Like I’m a joke!”

For a moment, you just stood there, unsure of what to say. You could see how much it hurt him. It wasn’t fair.

You walked up to him slowly, your small hand reaching out to touch his arm. “Aemond…” you said quietly, trying to sound brave. “They’re just being mean… but it’s not because of you. You’re going to get your dragon, I know it. And when you do, they won’t laugh anymore. You’ll be so much stronger than them.”

Aemond didn’t say anything at first, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white. “But when?” he muttered, his voice shaking. “When will it be my turn, (your name)? Everyone else has their dragons… and they treat me like I’m nothing.”

You could see the hurt in his eyes, the kind that words couldn’t fix. You took a deep breath and squeezed his arm gently. “I don’t know when, but it will happen. I promise. You’re not nothing, Aemond. You’re strong. You’re my big brother.”

His shoulders seemed to relax just a little, and he looked away, the fire in his eyes dimming. For a second, you thought he might feel better. But deep down, you didn’t know that his anger would only keep growing. Every joke, every cruel word was feeding a fire inside him that no one could see.

Laena was dead. She had faced complications during childbirth and, in the end, took matters into her own hands. She went to Vhagar and burned herself alive. You hadn’t seen her or your uncle Daemon since then; in fact, you had only seen him twice: once on your sixth name day, and now. You could feel how deeply this loss had shaken Rhaenyra; she wasn’t herself. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, you felt a heaviness too. Baela and Rhaena were there, their sorrow so clear it was almost suffocating, and Laenor seemed utterly lost.

You didn’t know what to do. You always tried to help everyone, but even now, you couldn’t see a way to make things better. The air was thick with grief, yet it felt distant—like a heavy fog that clouded every interaction but kept everyone apart. You walked slowly, the weight of your steps echoing on the stone floors of Driftmark. The silence seemed to carry the presence of Laena’s death in every corner of the hall. It was strange, surreal even, to be here at a time like this, when everything felt like it could unravel at any moment.

Daemon’s reaction puzzled you. His laughter during the ceremony had sent an eerie chill down your spine. Maybe it was his way of coping, or perhaps there was something darker within him. But that was Daemon—unpredictable and always impossible to fully understand, playing by his own rules.

You approached Baela and Rhaena, their small forms huddled together near the edge where the sea raged below. Their faces were pale, eyes red from crying, but they were silent now—their grief too deep for words. They looked so fragile, and it made your heart ache for them.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind. “I know I can’t make anything better, but I’m here if you ever need me.”

Baela gave a small nod, biting her lip, while Rhaena gripped her sister’s hand as if it were her lifeline. Their sorrow was overwhelming, but they remained silent, offering only a brief glance in your direction. You knew it was all they could manage right now. Still, you gave them a small, comforting smile, hoping it might bring them even the tiniest bit of comfort.

Your gaze shifted toward Daemon, who stood off to the side, staring blankly at the horizon. He seemed unfazed by the storm raging around him—the physical one or the emotional one. You couldn’t tell if he even cared or if this was just another chapter in his chaotic life—another loss in a sea of turmoil. Even at your age, you had heard the stories whispered about him: his first wife, the things he had done. But then, his gaze flickered toward you, and for a brief moment, your eyes met. Something passed between you—an understanding, maybe. No words were exchanged, but you smiled at him softly before turning away.

You moved toward Helaena, hoping her presence might offer some solace—or perhaps just a distraction. She stood alone, her eyes focused on a bug crawling on the ground, lost in her own world as always. There was something calming about being near her, a quietness that made the weight of the day seem a little less oppressive.

“Hey,” you said softly, stepping beside her. She looked up at you, her eyes filled with a strange sort of wonder you couldn’t quite place.

You both stood there in silence for a while, just existing together. It felt easier that way, less forced. The grief that surrounded you seemed lighter when you were near her. Still, everything felt heavy, and the urge to escape—to be anywhere but here—grew stronger. The sea crashed violently below, the wind howled in the distance, and yet you stayed, tethered to the weight of your family, the expectations, the sorrow, and the unspoken pain that filled the air. For now, all you could do was stand and wait for the storm to pass.

Dreams filled your mind, peaceful and free from nightmares, until you heard voices and footsteps outside the room you were in. Curiosity quickly overtook caution, and despite knowing your mother would be furious, you decided to have a look around. Peeking out, you saw two heads of brown hair and two white ones—it was Baela, Rhaena, Jace, and Luke. But why were they outside at this hour? You hesitated, feeling a little nervous, but decided to follow them.

From one of the windows, you caught sight of him, Aemond. And Vhagar. He’d done it. He had claimed a dragon. You ran, trying to catch up with the others, but in your haste, you lost them for a moment. Unbeknownst to you, a knight had started following you, trying to usher you back to bed. But you were determined.

Then, you found them—and they were fighting. Aemond was holding a rock. Why? Why did he have a rock? What was happening? You were confused, your heart racing.

“Stop! What are you doing?!” you shouted, your voice desperate as you tried to understand the chaos in front of you.

Aemond turned to look at you, his face a mixture of anger and pain, but before he could respond, dust was thrown into his eyes.

And then it happened—the dagger slashed across his face, slicing through his eye.

“No! What have you done?!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, rushing towards Aemond, trying to help him, panic rising in your chest.

"Let me see, Prince, let me see," the knight said, appearing beside you as he tried to assist your brother, his voice urgent.

You were scared, your hands trembling as you reached out to Aemond, but there was nothing you could do. His eye was gone.

You were still trembling when the knight led you back into the hall where everyone had gathered. The air was thick with tension, and the weight of what had just happened made it hard to breathe. Your mother, Alicent, was standing over Aemond, her face twisted in a mixture of shock, grief, and fury. She had seen the wound, seen the blood pouring from her son's ruined eye. Aemond sat there, the maesters fussing over him, trying to stop the bleeding, but he remained calm—too calm. His face was eerily blank, as though he had already accepted his fate. But you hadn’t. You were still shaking, the image of the dagger slicing through his eye burned into your mind. And yet, the horror of it all was drowned out by the fear rising inside you. You feared her. You feared Rhaenyra.

Alicent's voice rang out, sharp and unwavering, as she demanded justice. "An eye for an eye," she declared, her voice filled with a cold rage you hadn’t seen in her before. "They have maimed my son! They must pay for this!"

You tried to shrink back, standing near the edge of the room, trying to stay out of sight, but Aemond wouldn't let you, holding your hand more tightly and looking at you with his now only eye. You didn’t want to be part of this, but there was no escaping it. The words your mother had whispered so many times before now echoed in your head, louder than ever. 'Rhaenyra is dangerous.' 'Her sons are a threat to you and your siblings. They will stop at nothing.'

And as much as you didn’t want to believe it, after what had just happened, you felt that maybe your mother had been right all along. Rhaenyra stood across the room, tense and defensive, her eyes flashing with worry for Jace and Luke. Sometimes she tried to look into your eyes, but you always looked away.

You didn’t understand. She had always been so kind to you, and you had always liked her. You could even say that you wished she were your mother instead of Alicent. And Jace and Luke had always played with you, promising they would be kinder to your brother. But now, with Aemond’s blood staining the floor, you saw something different in her—a danger that you hadn’t seen before; their promises were all fake.

“I demand justice,” Alicent said again, stepping forward, her eyes locked on Rhaenyra. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched, unable to tear your eyes away.

King Viserys stood between them, his face pale with exhaustion and grief. He tried to calm the storm, but you could feel the fury radiating from your mother.

“I will have one of her sons’ eyes!” she cried, her voice trembling with emotion. She was wild with rage, desperate for justice. You had never seen her like this before, and it terrified you.

Viserys shouted for calm, trying to bring order to the chaos, but it was no use. Alicent was already reaching for the dagger at his side.

You gasped, your small hands covering your mouth as you watched in horror, taking your hand away from Aemond’s hand. Your mother, the woman who had always taught you to be measured and composed, was now lunging for Rhaenyra with a blade in hand. You wanted to scream, but the words caught in your throat. You were frozen in place, too scared to move. The clash was swift and brutal. Rhaenyra caught Alicent’s wrist before the blade could strike, and the two women stood there, locked in a furious struggle.

“You’ve gone too far, Alicent,” Rhaenyra hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

For the first time, you saw the true divide between them. And you realised, in that moment, that this wasn’t just a fight over Aemond’s eye. It was about power, about the throne, and in that moment, you didn't know that it was also about you.

“You see now, do you?” Alicent’s voice wavered, her eyes burning with a mix of heartbreak and rage as she looked at Rhaenyra. “Everyone can see now what you truly are.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stood there, too young to fully understand the depth of the betrayal, but old enough to know that nothing would ever be the same. You thought of all the times you had laughed with Jace and Luke, how you had always felt safe around Rhaenyra. But now, doubt gnawed at you. Maybe your mother was right; Rhaenyra was truly dangerous. You now saw that you were a threat to her throne, just as much as your brothers and sister were.

Aemond’s voice cut through the chaos, calm and cold, chilling the room. “It was a fair exchange,” he said, his one remaining eye burning with defiance. “I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Even Alicent froze, her dagger still clutched in her hand, as everyone turned to look at Aemond. His words were final, like the closing of a chapter.

And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that now everything had changed, that you no longer saw Rhaenyra as you once had. Now you despised her, despised Jacaerys, and despised Lucerys.

You didn’t trust them now.

Pt. 3>> (Coming Soon)

Author's Note: Hi everyone! I apologize for the delay in updates; as a full-time college student, I have a lot of assignments to juggle. I promise I’ll try to be quicker with my posts from now on. I’ve also added a poll to my profile where you can vote on whether (your name) will have a dragon, and if so, which one. If you don’t want to participate, that’s completely fine! Thank you for your understanding and for reading!

Tag list: @ursinaw @dakota-rain666 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @pookiedragonfire @jjggdfvvy @maryldrsstuff @1soultaken

[bumblesimagines]

One More Hour

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: He/Him/His

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

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

AAHEEEM.

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So are you." 

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

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

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

"We were children." Jace insisted. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You-"

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't think so."

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

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

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

[weird-addiction]

Could you write something for aemond? let it be a smut and the reader be your twin brother too :)

Fire in our Veins

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Male!Older!Twin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Targcest, Twincest, 18+ Themes, mostly no dialogue, sub!aemond, dom!reader, overstimulation, creampie, soft to rough

The faith called them abominations, but do they care? No. Despite the two of them being raised by a mother who was so devout to the faith, they were still every bit Targaryen. 

The blood of the dragon runs thick, and through them, they yearned for each other more than anyone else. Even more than Daemon and Rhaenyra. Twin flames that were meant to burn together. 

Since their youth, they have always experimented with each other under the sheets in the hours of the wolf. Concealing their voices, they could not afford for others to find out. 

“Gods, brother…” Aemond whispered out, his voice was strained from being forced to keep the volume down. 

“Shh, this was your idea!” Y/n kissed down his twin’s chest, almost in a comforting way. 

Aemond’s eye patch was off as his sapphire eye was on full display. Both of their clothes were on the floor forgotten, they just wanted the contact of each other’s skin.

The covers were moved to the end of the bed so had more space. Aemond had his arms around his twin, scratching the other’s back with his nails; bound to leave new marks. 

“Alright enough.” Y/n spoke suddenly as he stopped with the foreplay. 

He pulled Aemond by his ankles closer to him, putting one leg over his shoulder. The younger whined ever so slightly to let him know that he was getting impatient for him. Y/n rolled his eyes as he leaned down to kiss him. 

Aemond moaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Y/n’s neck tangling into his silver hair. When they pulled away, a string of saliva still connected them together. 

Reaching down with one hand, Y/n stroked himself a few times as he admired his twin in the moonlight that came through the glass windows. 

Lining himself up as he thrusts himself inside, it was still as tight and warm as the first time. Aemond threw his head back as his eye rolled back just for a moment before coming back. 

The younger nodded as to give the older the signal to start moving, which he did; the pleasure came with that. The motion of going in and out along with the warmness that Aemond’s insides brought were always enough for both of them to feel good. 

The younger moved one of his arms down to his own hard on, but his hand was slapped away, his gesture did not go unnoticed it seemed. Y/n shook his head at him, taking his hand and putting it back around his neck. His pace had started to pick up, the sound of skin slapping went around the room but not loud enough to through the stones. 

“W-wait-” Aemond could not even finish his sentence as his release washed over him in an instant, the shocks of pleasure overtook his body as his muscles twitched and his hips bucked upwards. His breathing became heavy as he tried to retain his normal breathing pattern. 

The elder stopped his movements and only grinded slowly to let his twin ready out his climax, but he was not done. He placed a hand on Aemond’s chest to keep him flat on the bed. Grabbing both of his legs now, he picked up his movements once more, this time more rough than the last. Aemond had no time to process as he was driven into overstimulation so quickly, gripping the sheets beneath him to have something to ground himself. 

Now he was just chasing after his own climax, the desperation of wanting to finish took over and he was feral. Losing all self restraint and control, like a dragon off its chain. His twin could only moan as he practically pounded into him, hitting Aemond’s prostate with every thrust. 

Gripping the sheets himself, he drove back in one last time before reaching his own release. Not bothering to pull out, he collapsed onto Aemond’s chest, trying to catch his own breath. 

He could feel that his twin was playing with his hair, which always calmed him down. 

“Are you alright?” Y/n asked as he moved his head to look up at the one eyed prince.

“Yes…” Aemond made a noise as he got himself in a more comfortable position. 

“Good. You can at least walk normally tomorrow.” Aemond could hear the smile in his words, in which he responded with his own.