#good dad criston cole

[dirtytransmasc]

Aegon is a shortie, Cole can and will always pick him up and cradle him to comfort his poor boy😭

he's just a little guy with a lot of big feelings and his dad loves him very much and hates to see him upset, so you know he'll always be there to hold him together. doesn't matter if Aegon is 5 or 10 or 15 or 20, he'll always be there for his boy.

Aegon was at peak cuddling age at like 13/14 in my mind. like he loved to be cuddled when he was little, but he wasn't as desperate and in need of it until he was older. so always asking for hugs or to be carried around when he was 5 aged into needing a good long cuddle everyday or his mental health would plummet. and as he got older cuddling just got more and more intense cause he'd sorta latch onto you and you couldn't move, if he wasn't watching something he was practically buried in your side completely, wrapped up in s blanket, insisting on being held onto all the while. sometimes he'd cry or get really quiet, and it soon became clear that this was just how he decompressed, that he had a hard time letting it all out on his own. (2 things to sorta give some insight on my HCs that make it even sadder: this kid was born touch starved and it never really went away even after Criston stepped up as his dad and Alicent healed from Viserys. All of the TargTower kids are some sort of neurodivergent, or at the very least, odd for lack of a better term. Aegon in the sense that he's very sensitive emotionally to things, almost reaching the threshold of "too" sensitive for his own good, but is disconnected from his feelings and can't process it on his own, so it tends to bottle up without clear "reason" or intent on Aegon's part. good thing his family loves him so much, cause he needs their help)

so Criston is so used to it at this point it's really become natural. if Aegon isn't around needing to be best hugged (with the little rocky motion, you can't forget the rocking) or straight up held, he's worried. plus, who would dare to not want their kids to want their love and affection forever? it's as good as it is for Aegon as it is for Criston.

[aeriondripflame]

aegon ii & criston cole / on fathers and sons

[feyhunter78]

Targaryen Inc (3/?)

Description: Helaena talks with her dad and unintentionally spies on Jacaerys' fight with his girlfriend.

Helaena scrolled through her email, marking the urgent ones when her father, Criston Cole, knocked on her door. She got up from her fuzzy pink desk chair and swung open the door, ushering him in.

“Dad! Have you come by for tea?” She asked, moving to the shelf where she kept all her mugs. Criston wasn’t her biological father, but he’d married her mother when Helaena was six, a few years after her biological father had died.

Her father looked around her office. “Did you redecorate again?”

Helaena smiled, “I just added some more plants.”

As Head of HR, her office was a safe space, and she aimed to make it as comfortable as possible for anyone who visited her.

 One wall she covered with floral wallpaper, and her desk was a warm brown color with a small rose gold lamp, her computer, and teardrop shaped terrarium with a tiny village inside sitting atop it. The terrarium had been a gift from Alyra, and Helaena smiled every time she looked at it. A large bookshelf sat behind her desk. She decorated said bookshelf, a gift from Aemond, with plants, small pieces of art and pictures of her family.

Criston took a seat on the plush pink couch that sat in front of her desk, with a fond smile. “You’re just like your grandma, a green thumb through and through.”

Helaena busied herself with making them tea while he continued speaking. “Your mother’s father is downstairs. Harwin and I are going to take care of it, but your mother wanted me to let everyone know to stay upstairs until he’s gone.”

Helaena swallowed hard. She remembered the screaming matches between her parents and her Grandfather Otto. He was paranoid, claiming that her Aunt Rhaenyra was going to try and squeeze them out of the company once Viserys retired. Her mother didn’t believe him, and told him so, causing Otto to turn his back on them.

“Do you think he’ll cause any trouble?” She set the mugs down a bit too hard, her hands shaking.

 Her father caught her hand, his grip warm and reassuring. “Helaena, nothing is going to happen, Harwin and I will escort Otto out, and then everything will be back to normal.”

Helaena gave him a weak smile. “If you say so.”

Her father wrapped her in a tight hug. “I know so.” He pulled back and kissed her forehead, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Helaena blinked back tears. He always saw right through her. Her biological father had been killed over a gambling dispute, and Helaena could still hear the sound of gunshots whenever she saw poker chips or smelled cigar smoke.

She hugged him once more, then let him go. “At least wear a bulletproof vest, you and Uncle Harwin, grandfather owns a lot of guns.”

He promised her they would and left, taking the mug she saved especially for him when he did.

She waited until he’d disappeared from view, then collapsed onto her couch, curling into a ball. She blew on her tea before taking a sip, relishing in the way it burned on its way down. Her father would be fine, her grandfather would be fine, everyone would be fine.

Panic struck her, and she stood abandoning her tea and made her way down the hall turning right past the conference room, heading for Jacaerys’ office. His warm eyes, and calming voice would soothe her nerves, then she could get back to work. She froze at the sound of raised voices, pressing herself against the door of the file room, careful not to be seen through Jacaerys’ office window.

“You do this every time, just admit it, you don’t care about me.” A shrill female voice accused.

“Sarah, I do care about you, but I’m busy. This is my job; I can’t just drop everything every time you need me.” The frustration was evident in his voice, and Helaena sympathized with him. Legal was always busy, whether it was dealing with Aegon, clients, or making sure The Aemma Fund was being managed properly.

“What a liar. I bet you’re cheating on me, and that’s why you never answer my calls.”

“You’re one to talk about cheating. Remember your friend, Dale?” Jacaerys fired back.

“You’re just jealous because he fucked me better than you did.” Sarah snapped, her voice loud enough to cause Rhaenyra to crack her office door and poke her head out.

Helaena gasped at Sarah’s words, and her hands came up to cover her mouth as her eyes widened. So, this was the infamous Sarah. Her office being next to Lucerys’ she heard him complain about his brother’s girlfriend quite often, but she resolved to give the woman the benefit of the doubt, seeing as Lucerys had never liked any of Jacaerys’ girlfriends.

When Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow at her, Helaena removed her hands and mouthed, “Jacaerys’ girlfriend.”

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and went back into her office.

Helaena wondered if she should beg her aunt to let her hide in her office until Sarah had left, but soon, she heard shuffling from Jacaerys’ office. She pulled the file room door open, pretending she’d just come from there when Sarah stormed out, not even looking at her.

Jacaerys was standing in his doorway, hair mused from running his hands through it, and she gave him a small smile. “Everything alright?”

He laughed bitterly. “It’s over with Sarah.”

She fought back the delighted expression that threatened to form, and schooled her features into one of sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that, do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head and held out a hand to her. She took it, and he pulled her into his office. “It’s not worth weighing you down with.” Their hands were still joined, his thumb gently rubbing circles into the back of her hand. “I’m sure you’re nervous about Otto being in the lobby.”

Her heart melted, he’d just fought with his girl—ex-girlfriend, and he was still thinking about how she might be feeling?

“I’m a little nervous, but I talked to my dad, and they’re going to be careful.” His father was going down there too, and while she doubted her grandfather would try anything, she couldn’t help but worry.

Jacaerys nodded. “They’ll be fine, they’re trained professionals.”

Both their fathers had served in the military, then worked in private security before their mothers signed on with Targaryen Inc. They often joked how funny it was they’d never crossed paths until that day.

“And my grandfather is an angry old man with too much time on his hands.”

Jacaerys laughed at that, his breathtaking smile returning. “Have you made your afternoon tea yet? I find myself craving some blueberry tea.”

“Not yet.” She lied, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Jacaerys rarely had time to join her for tea, but when he did, it was the best hour of her week.

“And then she accused me of cheating.” He said, an expression of hurt and disbelief on his ruggedly handsome face.

Helaena had already heard this accusation, but when he was here, sitting on her couch, knees brushing hers, she wouldn’t care if he tried to explain everything, he learned in law school to her.

“You would never.” She said, tone soft but earnest.

“Exactly, I could never break someone’s trust in that way.” He explained, taking a sip from the novelty mug he’d bought her that read, ‘hug dealer’ in big block letters. “And she’s the one who cheated on me.”

Helaena let out a scandalized gasp. “No, why?”

Jacaerys shrugged, his face tinting pink. “I don’t know, she wouldn’t tell me.”

Helaena bit her lip, of course she would never tell Jacaerys she heard his argument with Sarah, but a part of her wanted to reassure him there was no way this Dale could be better than him. At anything. Not that she’s slept with either man, but she just had a feeling Sarah had lied in an attempt to hurt Jacaerys.

Jacaerys’ thumb freed her bottom lip, and she felt her face heat up. “You’ll bruise your lip if you keep that up.” He warned, his chestnut brown eyes fixated on her, his thumb still resting on her lip.

Her eyes met his, and her breath caught in her throat at the intensity within them. “I’ll be more careful.” She whispered, not wanting him to retract his touch.

A knock on her door had them jumping apart and Jacaerys stood opening the door. Her father stood there, a confusion look on his face when he saw Jacaerys instead of her. “The ex-employee has been removed from the premises. Everyone is now free to visit the lobby if they wish.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She said, relief filling her veins. No one had been hurt.

Tag List: @nyctophilic0vitnir

@svtansdaddyx I know you didn't request to be tagged, but I still thought you might want to be notified that the new chapter is up!

(let me know if you'd rather I not tag you, or you want me to take this bit out, it won't hurt my feelings at all <3)

[dirtytransmasc]

Aegon being the absolute worry wart disaster parent will never not mean everything to me. he's just this ball of anxiety and hel's so in love with him but so (affectionately) sick of his shit.

My little thoughts on when the twins were born. A modern take, because I just can't stop thinking about them.

The start...

Helaena decided that, since she was quite young when she became pregnant with the twins, that she should have them at the hospital.

Alicent and Aegon both agreed that it would be a better idea, and they both helped her pack her bag for when she would go into labor.

Aegon snuck in a stress ball that is shaped like a lady bug for Helaena.

When her water broke, Helaena was very calm about it.

since it was the middle of the night, she woke Aegon up and told him to get the bag and start the car.

Aegon was freaking out and ended up waking up the whole house (They are, again, young. So, they still live at home) because he kept screaming '"The babies are coming!!"

Criston and Alicent came sprinting out of their rooms to see Aegon pulling on clothes that don't match and shoving on shoes. Helaena is folding a blanket and waiting for Aegon at the bottom of the stairs.

Criston offered to drive because Aegon looks completely out of it. So, Criston and Alicent sit in the front, while Aegon and Helaena sit in the middle of the car. Aegon keeps telling her to breath and Helaena just keeps saying "Aegon, if you tell me to breathe one more time I will push you out of the car."

The labors...

While Daeron, Aemond, and Criston are in the hallway pacing back and forth, Alicent and Aegon are holding onto Helaena's hands as she curses at Aegon.

"Never again! Do you hear me, Aegon!? Never!"

Aegon's hand is crushed at that point but he just keeps kissing her sweaty head and telling her she's doing great.

Alicent is pushing back Helaena's hair and telling her the same.

The twins were born healthy and in the early morning.

The aftermath...

While Aegon is holding onto Jaehaera, Helaena has Jaehaerys resting on her chest. They had brainstormed for hours trying to think of names, and with a little help from Daeron, those were the ones that they chose.

Daeron is jumping with excitement and is begging to hold the twins while Aemond is fighting the smile off of his face (he's failing).

Alicent and Criston are looking at all of them like the proud parents that they are. They all get to hold one of the twins (Alicent holds both of them because she has grandma rights)

When they are all finally allowed to go home, Helaena and Aegon tuck the twins between them in their bed and watch as their small little children breath in and out in their sleep. They both look amazed by them. Amazed that they made the humans that are just sleeping right in front of them.

Aegon looks up at Helaena, "You did it, Hel."

Helaena looks up at Aegon with a wide smile, "We're parents." Aegon nodded his head and leaned over to rub his nose on hers before kissing her nose lightly, "We're parents."

[bucknastysbabe]

Hi I got an ask about subby Criston and I’m here to fill it but I accidentally deleted the ask itself. So I hope you see this😭😭I kinda went cuckoo bonkers word to Wyn but anyways! Pookie bear cries and nuts like 40 times🧸🧸

Knock ‘em out - C.Cole

Rating: Explicit

WC: 3k

Tags: Boxer!Criston, Manager!Reader, Criss priss prob needed to be in an institution but now gets paid for beating ass, a little bit of manipulation from reader, marathon sex, overstimulation, sub space, soft domme, 🚨CRISTON BIG ASS PRAISE KINK🚨, he’s puppy your honor, Dom/sub, sub drop, aftercare, pnv!sex, multiple orgasms, intercrural sex, cumming in pants, lil bit of background story but mainly P O R N

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk @arcielee @sugarpoppss2 @lovelykhaleesiii @starogeorgina @moncherrii @bambitas @targaryenbarbie @fairysluna @thought--bubble @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @gemini-mama @valeskafics

Thanks @tumblin-theworldaway for helping my mind crank up heheheheeh

Criston knew he was off— something never wired right in his brain. Most people would interview him and see the rags-to-riches story. He came from trash, really, his dad was the janitor at the big boxing gym in the city. Coach Dondarrion told people they let Criston train for free as his father worked so tirelessly.

In reality, he couldn’t stop getting into fights at school. It was unchecked anger growing out of control. Criston’s mother and father begged Dondarrion to take him on and help channel that aggression. It likely saved his life. He was only 10 and beating kids’ faces in over slights— imagined or real. He was horribly possessive, jealous, and lost. Boxing seemed to put a lid on that.

Occasionally he’d have to be ripped off an opponent. Whispers of Criston Cole being a psycho were rampant. He was twenty-three when he got his current manager. She worked miracles. His everything— Criston loved the woman so much that sometimes it hurt his head, thoughts too intense to siphon through.

He’d known her from the Blackhaven gym, she was a daughter of Coach Swann and knew the realm of boxing pretty well. Coach Dondarrion brought her into the picture when Criston almost killed a man in the ring.

She didn’t bat an eye when Criston snarled and tried to intimidate her— only cocking her head and snorting like he was an unruly animal. He’ll never forget the words she said after. It was a shift for the boxer.

“Do that again and you won’t fight this week. I’m in charge now. You’re my prize pet. If you want to keep being a prize pet then you’ll listen to me,” she stated, manicured nail poking his chest.

The bigger man still had no clue what came over him, but her words were like a balm. This was what Criston needed— firm orders and guidance. He hoped at the time she could help him with all the mess in his head. Criston nodded and replied, “Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy. Let’s come up with some rules. You like rules don’t you?”

No unnecessary jabs, no yelling, work on riding the bike and going through footwork, and no cumming until he had won.

Those were the rules before a fight. Criston abided by them religiously. Even if he was like a caged animal towards the lead-up to the big event. He would feel himself grow more and more agitated— actively restraining from ripping his opponent's jaw off. Cole probably looked psycho, with dark eyes intense, jaw clenching. But his expression remained eerily placid. His manager liked that and said she could smell the fear off the other guy.

Criston remained undefeated, she must be right he thought. Coach Dondarrion said Swann was a goddamn genius. She was perfect like that. He hated she wouldn’t go public with their relationship, Criston would wind himself up into an obsessive tizzy over it.

But when he won again, and again, she was there to take care of him. They’d get through the usual press, Criston would shower, and they’d ride back to the hotel together. The air was charged in the back seat. She’d slapped his wandering hands away the first couple of times.

Now he knew to stay put and she’d tend to his face or scratch his hair, careful of any knots and bruising. It felt so fucking good the first time she touched him, he had cum in his sweats before even reaching the hotel. Whining and writhing as she cooed and put ice on his black eye or taped a busted nose— he couldn’t remember exactly.

His manager had cooed in surprise when he seized up and gasped, wetting the inside of his briefs, “Oh, baby? You came? Needed that, didn’t you? Criston Cole, my prized pet, big bad man, didn’t know you liked being loved on. You deserve it, baby, I’m here for you, always.”

Her words had simultaneously embarrassed and made Criston want to kneel at her feet, awaiting her next command. He remained quiet, cheeks flushing heavily, worried internally his nose would start bleeding. Swann curled at his side and stroked his messy curls.

“Don’t be ashamed, you deserve to feel good. ‘Sides I know you have more to go, gotta be pretty full from going a week. You want me to take care of that, empty you out?”

Criston gritted his teeth and whined. He wanted it so bad. The demon in his head teased and prodded him, spitting lies. “She thinks you’re a weak little bitch, you really gonna spread your legs and bare your neck like a slut?” the voice said. He moaned softly, pained from the dissonance.

His manager whispered gently, a small hand rubbing soothing circles on his chest.

“Criston, baby, stop thinking so much, and let me do it for you.”

He melted into her warm embrace, the proposition flicking on a switch he didn’t know existed. She smiled as he slurred out a ‘yes’ and went lax under her palms. Criston didn’t know at the time— that submitting completely to another made his mind stop for a bit.

He was euphoric, eyes focused on her as they entered the hotel. She waved off any reporters and led him by the hand. Criston clung to her like a needy child in the elevator, his cock swelled up again. The manager let him rut a bit on her tight skirt and giggled at his desperation.

When they finally, finally gotten to the room— she stripped Criston down and made him cum until he cried, all the adrenaline sapped out of his body. He lost count of how many times her mouth and hand brought him to completion. He got to float in his head, tongue too thick and limbs too heavy to do anything but whine and be coddled.

Criston woke up later as a new man. He felt he could breathe. Then the games began as his record kept going up, Cole escalating to the fucking top. He didn’t know what to do with all the money except buy his family a house and Swann anything she desired.

He’d won again. Shaking his fist and snarling obscenities at Strong on the ground. He’d get another fuck-ton of money and go home happy. He’d picked up the belt and grinned, elated at his thirtieth win. On the top of the world.

Criston’s mind began to whirl as he stalked down the hallway. He briskly showered and answered a couple of questions to the press. She waited to the side, sinful red lips curled upwards. Swann was wearing the red bottoms he bought her, pretty legs shown off in her little dress and blazer.

When she nodded toward the exit he followed, agitated at the annoying reporter still asking questions. Criston didn’t want to upset her, so he kept his mouth shut and followed along, pulling his hoodie up. His balls fucking throbbed. He wanted to fuck his angel so bad, maybe she’d let him on a special occasion like this.

He got into the dark luxury vehicle, inhaling her sweet scent. Criston was close to getting feral, mouth watering at the possibilities. Still, he remained mute. Until she shifted, facing him in the dark, eyes full of affection. Criston couldn’t help the thin whine that burst from his chest at her attention.

“Look’it you. Took down Breakbones, got thirty wins, fucking hell baby,” she drew closer to him, “Criston Cole, you’re the real deal! You wanna fuck me, baby boy? I think you’ve earned it.”

“Pleaseplease, yes, fucking yes,” he pled.

A stagnant pause fell over the back of the car.

“Thank you,” he moaned, “Thank you.”

“Good boy, don’t forget your manners.”

She placed a warm hand high on his thigh, massaging the sore muscle. Her other palm caressed Criston’s patched-up cheek. She hummed “A kiss?” He nodded eagerly, vibrating in place, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. But Criston knew he had to be her good boy.

The woman softly pecked his lips, pulling back to watch Criston chase with a sad noise. She smiled and kissed him again, deeper this time. He eagerly opened his mouth for her, shivering as her nimble tongue playfully lapped at his own. Criston’s hands balled up in his sweats— no touching, no touching unless given permission.

Their lips wetly smacked in the dark car, her hand moving up to rub maddeningly at his straining cock. Criston cried out into her mouth, hips bucking helplessly. She laughed and nibbled on his shapely lower lip, hand squeezing his manhood.

“S’all mine isn’t it? My cock, just for me.”

He nodded in misery, his body wanted to let go, but it was a bit of a process to get Criston in the headspace he wanted. She knew how to get him there. Like her lips against his ear, tits pressed against his chest as she purred, “Easy love, relax, I’ve got you honey.”

“Mmm- gods, need it,” he gritted out, dark eyes lolling.

As her firm hand jerked him over the sweats, Criston’s manager nipped and kissed at his clean-shaven cheeks and neck. She whispered, “Sweet boy, I know you are s’hard, relax, relax, you’re gonna get to cum all night baby. As much as you want, just gotta let go okay?”

She praised and played with him some more, Criston began to pant hoarsely, thighs shaking as he neared the precipice. She tutted when the car stopped, “Get yourself together baby, we’re here now.” He blinked, a tear falling down his cheek, bewildered by the way she left him.

He was so fucking close! The boxer sulked and groaned at his denied orgasm, eyes watery from how intense his balls were throbbing now. He wiped his eyes and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up again, keeping his head low. He hoped the half-assed tucking of his hard-on worked.

They walked in sync to the elevators. He sulked, “M’so hard it hurts.” Criston’s girl pouted her lips, patting his cheek, “I know, I know sweet boy, but we can’t keep the driver waiting. Almost there, don’t be so needy.”

Criston wrapped his arms around her waist, tucking his face into her neck. He would be good, he wouldn’t hump or bite. He merely wanted to hold her for a second before the elevator dinged. Swann hummed and nuzzled back into his hair.

Onward they went, Criston’s mind growing fuzzier and fuzzier as his body thrummed with need. Upon entering the penthouse suite— her entire demeanor changed. She snapped, “Go get undressed and kneel for me by the bed.”

He nodded in little jerks, undressing and folding them neatly, just how his mistress liked. Criston shuddered as the cool air hit his cock, swallowing heavily as he knelt before the foot of the bed. His hands shook with need, his adrenaline still thrashing and pumping underneath the skin.

He was downright panting by the time she came out of the bathroom, naked as he was. Criston bit on his lip, eyes watering again. The angel laughed, “You sure are worked up tonight.” She padded behind Criston, winding a hand into his hair, eliciting another agonized noise from the boxer.

“You are so damn talented, the Warrior smiles on you. I’m proud.”

“Thank you, thank you ma'am,” he whispered.

“I’m going to get on the bed and you’re going to fuck all that energy and cum out okay?”

“Yes ma’am- ohmygods.”

Criston’s brows pulled together as she laid before him, legs crooked and spread, her cunt shining with slick. He growled, digging his nails into the skin of his thigh. She crooked her fingers playfully, “C’mon baby, you’re allowed to touch. Use me, my special pet earned it.”

He almost felt bad in the way he roughly had pulled her ass flush to his hips, the flesh smacking loudly. Criston had eagerly gotten on his knees in the center of the soft bed, slotting his swollen cock against her slick pussy. “F-fuck, fuck, gonna use you baby, ’m sorry,” he gritted out. She smiled and shrugged, moaning as he rutted against her a couple more times.

Criston’s dark eyes rolled up as he entered her velvet cunt, warm and sososo tight. He snarled as he snapped his hips into his baby. She was crying out and digging sharp nails into his shoulders. Cole knew he was lost in the feeling, rasping and groaning possessive, ugly things he would never say out loud.

But when legs were wrapped around his waist and she was mewling his name? Criston had lost his firm barriers. He rumbled into her ear between kisses and bites, “My godsdamn pussy, mine, you’re mine, I’ll f-fucking kill anyone who touches you, looks at you, gods I’ll do anything!”

He groaned, balls drawing up quicker than expected. She was crying out “Yes! yes! All yours!” Criston sucked in a wet breath at her neck, hips driving into her at a breakneck pace, hands bruising her pretty skin. He choked on his drool, unable to warn her— Criston’s orgasm was that intense.

She tightened around him when his cock flooded, absolutely flooded her pussy. Criston moaned and clenched his jaw, fucking through the oversensitivity. His girl dug her heels into his ass to spur him on. The boxer swallowed down a little mewl. Everything was still so swollen, he had to keep fucking, keep cumming.

“Mmm, yes! Don’t stop baby, oh Criston!”

“I-I am, fuuuck, g’nna fill you up again!"

He drove his hips upward, lifting her hips so that Criston could get at her g-spot. She raked a bloody mark across his back, gasping in delight. He rambled while thumbing desperately at her clit, “Yeah, yeah, feel s’good, cum on me baby, need to feel you, m’close again!”

Criston wasn’t sure if it was her gorgeous wail or her pussy gushing on his cock or both but he came again. She chose to mouth at his lips, shaky legs clenching around him, hand pulling the hair at the nape of his neck. Meanwhile, he whined Swann’s name, the quickness of his second orgasm turning Criston’s brain into jello.

The slick noises between them were loud and sloppy, he was stuttering and whining. She threw her pretty head back and moaned. Criston was finding words hard. He kept fucking and fucking. She felt too good and he had so much cum for her.

“That’s it, keep it up,” she grunted.

Criston slurred, “Ca-can’t stop, can’t, can't!”

He felt his eyes grow wet as his overstimulated cock was gripped and milked by her cunt. The angel, his angel, wrapped her arms around his sweaty neck, his hips forcing little 'uhs' out of her plush lips. Criston blabbered uselessly, words bordering on sobs now. It felt too good, the pain and pleasure were ecstasy to him. He bottomed out inside her, stopping to mewl long and high before returning to feverishly thrusting again.

“Oh, oh, angel- hurts- s’good ohmygods your pussy, gotta cum again, m’sorry m’so sorry!”

She nuzzled at his jaw, moaning, “It’s okay, doing so good for me, needy baby. You needed this, poor baby’s balls are so full.”

“S’full,” he agreed, mindless and shivering.

Criston’s thighs began to twitch as he felt another wave cresting. He practically wailed as the third peak licked up his spine— white hot and mean. She gasped, nails digging into his flanks, pussy pulsing around another load of Criston’s molten cum.

He was a mess, wordless and drooling. Criston began to move again, gaze unfocused and mouth agape. He whimpered, all overstimulated and still fucking frantic. Criston felt like he’d die if he didn’t stop, tears pouring down his flushed cheeks.

Her hands held his face now, her lips saying something. Criston slowly cocked his head, attempting to understand his manager’s words. She said it again, this time louder with a smack to his cheek. Criston stopped his movements, protesting with a weak noise.

“Babydoll, you gotta fuck my thighs, I'm starting to hurt. I’m going to turn over, okay precious? Got that?”

His lips trembled— Criston didn’t want to do that. He wanted her pussy. He slid out anyway, a torrent of white spend flooding out of her well-used entrance, seeping onto the bed. She marveled "Oh Criston, you still have anything left?" The woman hissed under her breath as she flipped onto her stomach. She tucked a pillow under her hips, giving him access to her thighs, slicked with their release.

Criston stared— unsure how to proceed. His cock was so flushed it purpled, aching horribly. He whined, frustrated with his stupidity, the man just wanted familiar tightness again. She sighed and reached back, ushering his knees and thighs to cage her legs in, forcing Criston forward.

He gasped in delight when his cock slid between her soft thighs, warm and wet. His depleted brain decided this would do. Criston’s thrusts were jerky and uncoordinated, he was growing too sensitive to go on much further. He kept at it, crying and sniffling like a babe.

“Awe baby, you’re hurting huh?”

“Mhm!” he replied, scrunching his face up tight. He had to cum one more time, he had to! Even if it was excruciating, the pleasure ramped up into nerves prickling all over his worn body. She watched him with lidded eyes, lips in a smirk. Criston exhaled again, throwing his head back to sob.

“Gotta- I gotta,” he mewled.

“I know sweetheart, so close, let it all out, you’ll feel so much better. You’re so pretty like this— all fucked out and still want more. Knocked your whore brain sideways. My cute slutty puppy, I love youuu.”

Criston folded under the praise, his body contracting once more, stomach cramping as he devolved into cries. His abused cock managed to dribble one little last bit. He couldn’t stop crying, falling back onto his haunches. Swann guided him down to shush and pet his hair. She murmured, "You're okay, all done now, I'm here, not going anywhere. Just breathe."

Criston’s muscles were all loose but the adrenaline had been sapped quickly. He was gutted— in a good way. Just couldn’t help the reaction, he knew it would happen after an intense romp like this. His baby curled into his heaving side, laying feathery kisses on his jaw, a relaxing hand at his diaphragm.

“That’s it, let it out, poor baby. Couldn’t help yourself hm?”

Criston nodded through the incessant tears, his shaky hand threading through her hair. He rasped, “I love you so much. You’re perfect.” He was growing more sleepy, settled by her kisses and glowing smile. He could float easy and enjoy the win, curled up with his lifesaver. Well, after she got him water and wiped down the mess. He realized with a smile— she had laid a towel underneath them.

She’d have to help him function tomorrow, Criston knew he’d be scrambled eggs, sore, and a bit grumpy. But that’s why they kept a suite for three days. After the kick off he would rest up and replenish. They would fuck sensually, cuddle, and watch a in some order of that fashion.

His addled mind conjured up a big diamond ring he’d buy for her.

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY TALKING ABOUT EPISODE 1 & 2 OF 'HOUSE OF THE DRAGON' S2 FOR DECIDER MAGAZINE.

DID TOM GLYNN-CARNEY INTEND TO MAKE AEGON SO HILARIOUS?

“Well, look, I find him quite manic.”

“And I think, rather than playing humor — which is always a terrible idea because it always ends up not being funny when you play humor — I want to sort of bring this sort of frantic energy of him and kind of the nonchalance of his approach to being king these days.”

“I think it’s important to find levity at the beginning of something. You know, we’ve got to give him somewhere to go. And I genuinely think he is quite funny.”

TALKING ABOUT THE DEATH OF JAEHAERYS AND HIS CHARACTER IN THE NEXT EPISODES.

“The loss of Jaehaerys is huge. It’s momentous and it’s one of those things that just stains. It affects you on an atomic level now. It’s something you don’t ever fully digest and make sense of and kind of shake off.”

“So, yeah, it informs a lot of his decisions going forward.”

“I always had it in my head that he was kind of rebuilding the person he would have wanted to be through him.”

“I think he saw in Jaehaerys a part of himself.”

The actor explained that Aegon wanted to give Jaehaerys the “love and attention” that perhaps his parents didn’t.

“He saw elements of himself in [Jaehaerys] and it was a kind of a new start for him in a way. And now it’s been snatched from him.”

Without Jaehaerys, Aegon leans into his worst impulses. Aegon accelerates war plans, hanging every ratcatcher in the Red Keep in the hopes of nailing the one who abetted Jaehaerys’s death and firing his cautious grandfather Ser Otto Hightower (Rhys Ifans) as Hand. Ser Criston Cole (Fabien Frankel) will now be Hand, ensuring more blood will be spilled.

Nevertheless, Tom Glynn-Carney’s descent into Aegon’s dark state of mind is never without a hint of humanity.

You understand that it’s grief propelling these choices. Grief for Jaehaerys, Aegon’s son and heir, grief for the “good” king Aegon could have been, and grief for the way his family has failed him.

TALKING ABOUT THE SCENE OF ALICENT FINDS AEGON CRYING BY THE FIRE. AND INSTEAD OF COMFORTING HER SON, ALICENT WORDLESSLY LEAVES HIM.

“There’s a great poem: ‘They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do.’ It goes on with it. But, yeah, it reminds me of that,” Glynn-Carney said, quoting Philip Larkin’s “This Be the Verse.”

It’s a poem that, like George R.R. Martin’s books, bemoans how, “Man hands on misery to man.”

Trauma begets more trauma, a theme House of the Dragon‘s interpersonal drama is excavating this season.

[mypearlsareclutched]

Because You Got Out of Hand

High By The Beach | Chapter Ten

Modern!Aemond x Original Female Character, Modern!Aegon II x Original Female Character

Perhaps it is nostalgia that makes her sees the bright side of Aemond once again. Perhaps it is her innate desire to feel loved. All that she knows for sure, is that the Targaryen's are a damn good fuck...

Can the Targaryens PLEASE just not have a familial dispute every five minutes, like goddamn. It's three in the morning GO TO SLEEP DAEMON! Also so sorry this has taken so long, life hit me x

Song inspiration | High By The Beach, Lana Del Rey

CW//TW: Sexual Content (MDNI, 18+), death, funerals, reunited at last, Targaryen daddy issues, love triangles, rhaenicent crumbs, so much angst, Daemon, Otto, smutty smut, oral sex (f receiving), missionary sex, manhandling, hair pulling, doggy style, Mila and her post nut clarity.

Word count | 5.6k

previous chapter // next chapter

Hours after the burial, Mila sits beside Baela on a wall outside of the mansion, the sky growing dark.

With a shaky breath, she lights a cigarette. The click of the lighter and flicker of the flame, and the feeling of the smoke in her lungs comforts the Stark as her mind goes into overdrive, trying to make sense of her feelings.

Baela watches her worriedly, playing with a strand of her hair as her eyes follow Mila's trembling hand. She moves to say something, when another person joins them.

Helaena scurries up to them, looking even more pale than she did before. Both Baela and Mila go to speak when Helaena beats them to it.

"Grandfather is going to read dad's will out now." She murmurs, crouching down to pick up a snail slithering down the pathway. She places it into a nearby bush, before standing again and looking between the two women.

"Yeah, I saw dad stalking off." Baela rolls her eyes, "I swear he grieved Viserys for about fifteen minutes before he started thinking about taking over Dragonrider."

Dragonrider, the illustrious investment company began by Viserys' grandfather, Jaehaerys. Viserys had taken it over years ago after he had passed away. When Viserys was still young and unmarried, he promised Daemon he would take over the company when Viserys grew tired of it. But that promise was never upheld. Because soon after, Viserys got married, and had a daughter. The company was no longer just his job, but his way of providing for his family, and making them proud.

Daemon never forgot about that promise, though. He famously feuded with his brother over it. Over his 'birthright'.

"Do Rhaena and I need to come to the reading?" Baela asks Helaena, a frown on her full lips.

"No. Immediate relatives only, Otto said." Helaena says with an apologetic tone.

"Oh, thank gods." Baela relaxes, rolling her shoulders, "As little time I have to spend around my father, the better."

"Word." Rhaena calls from beyond the wall, where she crouches as she texts someone. Cregan, most likely. Asking about Morning, most likelier.

Mila smiles down at her friend, before taking another drag of her cigarette as she looks back at Helaena. The blonde woman looks at her nervously, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"What's wrong, bug?" The Stark asks.

"Otto has asked you to join as well." Helaena murmurs, her already somber face dropping further.

Of course. Because I am apart of this sordid, godsdamned family.

Mila clenches her jaw, patting Baela's knee as she rises from the wall. Her friend gives her a worried look, opening her mouth to say something, before Mila shakes her head. Offering her the half-smoked cigarette, which Baela takes, Mila takes Helaena's hand and begins walking back to her doom.

Helaena leads her through the house, avoiding as many remaining mourners as she could. They ascend the stairs, walking further and further into the vast, castle-like home until they find a dark oak door.

Criston Cole stands outside of it, talking softly to Alicent. She stands still, picking at the skin around her nails as she stares off into the distance. The two of them jump when Mila and Helaena appear, standing taller and falling silent.

"Mum." Helaena says softly, nodding.

"Darling." Alicent clears her throat, sending a pained smile to her daughter before looking at Mila, "Mila."

"Is everything alright?" She asks her, rather absentmindedly, as her eyes move to the large doorway.

"Of course. We just have to get the legal stuff out of the way, and then we can all go home." Alicent states, wearing a smile that looks painted on. Helaena sighs, walking forwards towards the door, and Cole opens it for her. Inside, multiple voices could be heard arguing. Alicent grimaces, quickly following after her daughter with Mila in tow.

"Do you know why I've been asked to be here?" Mila asks Criston quietly as she passes him.

"Maybe he left you a paper weight." Cole shrugs, holding the door open for her.

Mila gives him a small smile, before crossing the threshold.

Inside, Daemon Targaryen lounges in a leather armchair behind an expensive desk, toying with the ring on his finger as he glares at his nephews. Aemond paces the room, his suit jacket off and his sleeves rolled up. He argues in a low voice with his uncle, who seems greatly amused by the situation.

Rhaenyra sits on one of the chairs opposite the desk, staring at the night sky outside as Alicent takes the seat next to her. The two women share a look, their expressions softer as their eyes meet. Daeron, Jace, Halaena and Aegon sit dotted around the back, all silent and looking greatly uncomfortable. Luke appears around the corner as Mila walks in, and he visibly relaxes when he sees her.

"Mila." He smiles, walking over into her open arms. She hugs him close, ruffling his dark curls affectionately.

Other heads in the room turn to her, noting her attendance to this meeting. No-one looks shocked, though perhaps anxious due to her difficult recent history with Viserys' second son. Rhaenyra offers her a comforting smile, Daeron nods at her, Jace widens his eyes in a silent plea to jump out of the window with him.

Aemond stares at her, lone eye softening as he turns and begins approaching her. Luke leaves her side, avoiding Aemonds line of sight as he stands at his mother's shoulder.

The one-eyed Targaryen walks towards Mila slowly, not unlike a hunter approaching a startled animal. A weight settles on her chest as his hands each up to caress her elbows.

With the attention of the room on her, she allows him to pull her into an embrace. His arms feel familiar as they wrap around her, his hands finding purchase on her waist, his chin on her shoulder. Mila leans into him, her own instincts betraying her as she allows herself to find comfort in the hold of her ex-boyfriend.

Over Aemond's shoulder, she meets Aegon's eyes. He stares at her, face expressionless. But his eyes hold a thousand thoughts, ask a million questions, try to hide an immeasurable amount of feelings.

Mila can only hope that he find solace in her own eyes.

A short laugh zips through the air, making Aemond stiffen against her. Mila's eyes turn to the Targaryen in the room she is least acquainted with.

"The She Wolf," Daemon states dramatically, smirking. His eyes roam over her, an eyebrow raising in intrigue, "I get it now."

"Come on. She's young enough to be your daughter, uncle." Daeron rolls his eyes, visibly cringing.

Daemon's smile is predatory, and Mila fights a shudder as she extracts herself from Aemond, walking further into the room. She finds a spot away from everyone, leaning against a bookshelf as she crosses her arms over herself.

"We're just waiting on my father." Alicent tells the room, trying to ease the tension as she smoothes out her skirt, "He's taken care of Viserys' legal business for over thirty years."

"Was that before or after he sold you off as his child bride?" Daemon asks with feigned interest.

"That's enough."

Mila is shocked when Rhaenyra speaks up, sending a sharp look to her uncle. The Stark knew little of Rhaenyra and Alicent's strained relationship. All she knew was that they were friends when they were young girls, and that friendship ended when Alicent married Viserys at nineteen, a bump barely concealed by her dress. But as Alicent looks at Rhaenyra now, a grateful and soft expression, Mila understands that their friendship meant a lot to both of them.

And if Mila knows Otto Hightower, then she knows he was the reason it ended.

"So we're waiting on the old man, huh?" Daemon sighs, lifting his feet to loudly drop them on the mahogany desk, crossing his ankles, "Let's all catch up then, hm? As family."

Everyone glares at him.

Jace clears his throat, turning his head to smile at Daeron at his left, "You're playing footy at uni, right?"

"Yeah! It's great, I'm in goal at the moment but-"

"Boring." Daemon fake yawns, "Let's discuss what will change when I take over Dragonrider."

"That'll be the day, huh? Pigs will fly, the hells will freeze over..." Aegon sighs, playing wistful.

"No one finds you funny, nephew of mine." Says Daemon as he rolls his eyes.

Aegon puts a hand to his chest, gasping in outrage. As he grins slightly, his eyes flicker over to Mila, and she gives him a small smile, as if telling him 'I find you funny.'

Neither see Aemond watching the two with a narrowed eye.

"Surely the company will go over to mum. Right?" Luke chimes in, seemingly innocently confused by Daemon's comments, "That's what grandfather always said."

"Sure. Maybe that was what he intended when Nyra was young and single and careerless. Now she's got other priorities."

"Did you just call me old?" Rhaenyra asks with a raised eyebrow. Daemon scoffs, waving a hand dismissively.

"People love MILFs." Mila winks at her, and Rhaenyra tuts at her with a humoured smile she tries to hide.

"Down girl." Jace grimaces, "I'm right here."

"So am I." Aemond says, and if he had shown that kind of possessiveness a month ago, Mila would have adored it. But now, Mila feels herself shrink slightly.

Aegon stares at his brother, pressing his tongue to his cheek as he bounces his leg, agitated.

"Well, at the end of the day, it would be Viserys' decision who would take over his company." Alicent sighs, touching her seven pointed star necklace, "May the seven rest his soul."

"Now that doesn't sound like daddy's perfect little girl, does it?" Daemon taunts, making Alicent send a glare his way. Rhaenyra subtly rests a hand on Alicent's arm, offering a small comfort.

Mila focuses on her hand, on the affection of it. It looks so natural, and it makes . They were destroyed by circumstance, perhaps like her and Aemond, perhaps like her and Aegon...

Those around her continue arguing, mainly Daemon, with the others voicing their opinions or merely telling him to shut up. Mila tuned most of it out, biting at the nail on her thumb. But the jist of the argument was not lost on her.

Neither Rhaenyra nor Aegon want to inherit the company, but both Daemon and Aemond do. Oh the curse of being the second born.

"We're getting nowhere!" Daemon groans, sending a spiteful glare to Alicent, "How long will your idiot father take to slowly walk here?"

As if summoned, Otto Hightower finally turns up, his face unreadable as he slinks into the room. He sneers at Daemon, sat at the desk.

"That desk costs more than your house, Mr Targaryen. Kindly remove your cheap shoes from it."

"Ooh, someone's time of the month is here." Snickers Daemon as he stands, presenting the chair with a flourish.

Otto ignores him, placing the envelope containing the will on the desk.

"Viserys Targaryen's will clearly states how he wanted his assets divided between his family." Otto states, sitting on the newly empty desk chair, "He owned three properties, two domestic and one for business. This mansion will be left to his wife, Alicent Hightower. Dragonstone is now solely owned by Rhaenyra Targaryen. The 'Dragonpit', as he calls his place of business, will go to whoever inherits his company. His funds will be equally distributed between his five children, with seperate accounts held in place for his grandsons."

"Oh, result." Aegon snickers, crossing his arms, "Now I can get a pony."

"Shut the fuck up, Aegon." Daemon sneers.

"In regards to his company, Dragonrider Investments, he has stated that his first born son, Aegon Targaryen, will take over as CEO of the company, effective immediately."

The room is deathly silent as everyone digests this information.

And then, all hell breaks loose.

Daemon stands from his chair with enough force to send it tipping backwards, his eyes enraged as he sneers at Otto, "You lie."

"I do not lie, Mr Targaryen. It is written right here."

"My brother would never leave his company to this half-wit!" Daemon yells, pointing to Aegon. He slams his hand against the table, "You fucking snake, you changed it, didn't you?!"

"A vile accusation, Mr Targaryen. It would be wise to refrain from making baseless allegations against me." Otto sneers.

"There's no way Viserys would have chosen Aegon over Rhaenyra. He chose her years ago and would never, under any circumstances, change his decision to his second born, lowlife of a son. The company belongs to Rhaenyra." Daemon states.

"You just want Rhaenyra to have it so you could manipulate her into giving it to you in favour of keeping her own business." Aemond rolls his eyes at his uncle, leaning over one of the chairs to grab the back of it, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

Aemond's voice is calm, but Mila can see the barely contained rage in his shoulders.

"If Dragonrider was left to me, I would not have chosen Daemon to take it over." Rhaenyra scoffs.

"Yeah, she has a whole son over here." Daeron nods to Jace

"Leave me out of this." Jace murmurs, holding up his hands defensively. He shares an exacerbated look with Mila, who shrugs at him as she gnaws on her thumb nail.

"I want to see the original will." Rhaenyra sighs, glaring at Otto.

"You didn't even want the company." Aemond bites, "You should be jumping for joy."

"All I want is for my father's last wishes to be respected. I do not believe he would have chosen Aegon."

"Because who would?" Daemon snickers, "Apart from the obvious."

The room goes quiet, and Mila looks up to find Daemon Targaryen's eyes on her. Aemond stiffens from beside her, rage radiating off of him, hotter than dragon fire. The others in the room look between the two Targaryen's, feeling the tension rise to a boiling point.

"What is it you are implying?" Mila finds herself asking, staring Daemon down.

"Oh, nothing." He smirks, "Just that you seem to have a type, She Wolf."

His tone catches Aegon's attention, who sits up in his chair. After looking bored throughout the hearing of his father's will, Daemon's sudden aggression towards Mila makes Aegon suddenly sober up. He looks ready to speak when Aemond beats him to the punch.

"How dare you?" Aemond growls, stepping forwards towards his uncle, "Say what you wish to the rest of us, but think twice about what you accuse my girlfriend of doing-"

"I'm not accusing her of anything. Just stating the obvious. We all saw those pictures from Old Town, anyone with two eyes could see what was going on..." Daemon makes an exaggerated face, holding his hand up to his mouth as he looks at his nephew, "Oh, wait!"

"Watch your tongue, uncle." Aemond warns, voice icey, "Or you may lose it."

"Oh, be quiet, Aemond. The grownups are talking." Daemon says dismissively, "it's not like you were even in the running to inherit Dragonrider, anyway."

The room soon dissolves into chaos, with Daemon and Aemond standing chest to chest as they bicker and hurl insults at one another. Rhaenyra stands at Daemon's side, trying to prevent the two from throwing punches, while Otto tries to shout louder than the other's to control the situation.

Helaena holds her hands to her ears, sitting beside her mother, who looks pale and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Jace and Daeron sit side by side by the desk, watching the growing chaos with bored expressions, and Aegon sits as still as a statue away in the shadowy corners.

Mila holds her head, standing to the side next to Criston Cole, who looks about ready to quit his job. His eyes keep flicking towards Alicent, a protectiveness on his face that makes Mila like the bodyguard even more.

"Maybe you should take her away. She doesn't need to see this." Mila murmurs softly to him, her own concern for the older woman's stress evident. He gives her a firm nod, disappearing across the room to come to Alicent's side. Alicent grabs Helaena's hand as they leave, and Mila thinks about following them out.

Across the room, Mila spots Aegon rising from his chair, heading over to another door leading out. Without another glance, he quietly slips out and away from the chaos.

"Aegon, wait!"

Outside the Targaryen estate, Aegon turns around at the sound of Mila's voice. She crosses the cobblestone of the drive, face twisted with sympathy and desperation.

"I can't do this, Em." Aegon sighs, shaking his head. He runs a shaky hand over his face, his breathing erratic, "I can't be what they want me to be. And... I can't be what they expect. I'm not that guy anymore. The delinquent freak who would roll over and do what Otto told me to. I know my grandfather had a say in this. He must have... manipulated my father into making me the heir, or something. Otto thinks he can control me, so he would control Dragonrider."

He paces as he rambles, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. Mila watches him with a pained expression, unable to help him and forced to stand aside and watch as he struggles.

Lifting his head, Aegon looks at her with glassy eyes, "I can't be apart of this."

Mila reaches out for him, and she can see his eyes moving frantically from her hand to her face. With two swift strides, he reaches her.

"I..." He starts, his voice trailing off. He clenches his jaw, looking down at her lips before back at her eyes. Mila nods almost imperceptibly, reaching a hand up to brush against his sleeve.

Aegon's hands cup her cheeks, pulling her in for a swift, loving kiss. Mila melts into him, holding his elbows as he kisses her languidly, enjoying the feel of her against him. Their lips move in a sensual dance, mapping the other out until the feel is carved into their memories.

But all too quickly, his lips disappear. With a final look into her eyes, Aegon turns and walks away, disappearing into the night.

When Mila finally returns to the mansion, Criston Cole stands waiting in the foyer, releasing an annoyed sigh when she is the only one who returns.

"Is he gone?" He asks simply. She nods, trying to blink away the tears that spilled outside.

Criston eyes her, pulling out a handkerchief and giving it to her wordlessly. She wipes her eyes silently

"Makeup smudged?" She asks, trying to sound casual.

"Just say you're really upset about Viserys' death."

Mila chuckles, giving Cole his handkerchief back with a thank you, and he nods.

Turning the corner on the way back to the office, she watches as Daemon storms out of the double doors, throwing them open hard enough so send the doors colliding with the walls, their loud thuds. The other's rush after him, in various states of distress.

"Daemon, stop being so childish! Stop this!" Rhaenyra yells after him.

"Oh I'm sorry, am I being too loud?" He screams back at her, long hair wild around his head.

"Loud enough to wake the dead." Jace murmurs around his drink with a raise of his eyebrows. Rhaenyra smacks his arm, causing the younger man to flinch and jump back.

"Good! Let's get Viserys up here, he can put an end to this shitshow!"

Alicent walks down the hallway, eyebrows raised eye as she eyes Daemon warily, "What-"

"I'm going to disembowel your father." The scorned Targaryen sneers at her, making her press her lips together with a huff.

With that, Daemon struts off, likely to throw a further hissy fit elsewhere. Rhaenyra rolls her eyes, murmuring 'pathetic' before wandering back off into the office with Alicent following. Jace downs his drink, winking at Mila before he disappears down the hallway with Luke and Daeron on his heels. The muffled voices of Rhaenyra and Alicent can be heard through the dark wood of the office door.

A small grimace appears on Mila's face when she realises she is left alone in the hallway with Aemond. Her ex watches her, his face twisted in a barely contained scowl at the actions of his family, his eye narrowed in anger.

Before Mila can utter out an excuse to leave his presence, Aemond sighs through his nose, "I need a drink."

He turns on his heel, walking away in a flurry of blonde hair and dark fabric. When he doesn't hear her following, he stops and turns his head.

"Are you coming?"

"...Apparently." Mila sighs as she crosses her arms and follows after him.

Mila watches Aemond pour himself a drink from the families lavish bar, the rest of the room dark and quiet apart from the clink of ice and Mila's heel tapping against the wooden floor.

Not a word has been spoken, neither of them being the first to speak for fear of how the other will respond. Rain distantly patters against the large windows across the parlor, and thunder occasionally rumbles ominously.

"It's late." Aemond finally comments around the rim of his glass, "It would be best if you stay here tonight."

Mila raises an eyebrow, "Oh would it?"

"You can sleep in one of the spare rooms." He sighs, "If you wish."

"But you would prefer it if I slept in your bed? If I forgave everything you have done and move forward as if nothing happened?"

"Yes." Aemond says simply, putting down his glass, "All of that. That's exactly what I want. What I need, Mila. I need you."

"Aemond I don't want to talk about this." Mila shakes her head, trying to push his words out of her head.

"But we must." Aemond says, his voice pleading. His hand leaves his side and attempts to take hers, but Mila wraps her arms around herself and turns her back on him, tucking her chin as if she were protecting herself. Aemond sighs, walking around her to the glass doors. He opens them, ignoring the rain crashing down around him as he pulls out his pack of Marlboro reds and his lighter.

Mila joins his side, watching his strong profile as he puts a cigarette between his lips and lights it. Aemond offers her his pack wordlessly, and she takes one, letting him light it for her.

They stood in silence in the shelter of the doorway, the world outside stormy, the house behind them silent and dark. Their solemn faces are illuminated by the cherries of their cigarettes, smoke escaping their lips and floating up to join the dark clouds, ripped apart in the sky by the harsh winds. Mila watches the sky, feeling a few stray drops of rain caress her cheeks.

"Did you love me?" Aemond asks suddenly, looking down at the lighter between his fingers.

"What?" Mila asks, turning to look at him.

Aemond's head lifts, staring right into her eyes. His one eye is stormier than the heavens above them, his eyepatch a black hole on the left side of his face.

"Did you love me?" He repeats, his voice softer.

Looking into his eyes, she's reminded of the first time she realized she was in love with him. Three months after their first meeting, Otto had dragged their sorry asses to Tyland Lannister's birthday bash, and the Targaryen clan spent an evening in the lions den of Casterly Rock. After a surpise appearence by Jason, Mila had instinctively grabbed Aemond's hand and fled away from the celebrations. Out of breath and finding herself in the gardens with Aemond chuckling down a her antics, Mila looked up at the Targaryen man and came to a startling realisation.

She was in love with Aemond Targaryen.

In the present, Mila stares up at him, feeling Deja Vu as the gardens surround them and his eye watches her carefully. Words escape her, a shakyh breath released from her smoky lungs.

Aemond's hand cups her cheek, pulling her closer as he finally breathes out what she always wanted to hear.

"I love you." Aemond says.

She took a sharp breath, face scrunching as her heart lurches.

For months she waited to hear those words. She craved it. Finally, a traitorous voice says inside her head, as Aemond's lips press to hers.

Mila has no idea how she ended up here.

One minute, she kissed Aemond in the door leading out to the gardens of the Targaryen manor, in the early morning after his father's funeral, after he finally told her he loved her.

Now, an hour later, he had her naked laid out on his head, his head between her legs.

Fisting the sheets at the side of her head, Mila's back arched off the sheets, a sheen of sweat across her skin. Aemond prodded her with his tongue, delving it deep within her to drink her up. His large hands spread out over her hips and stomach, holding her down as she shuddered and shook, pleasure coursing through her.

"Fuck..." Mila moaned, dropping her head down as his lips surrounded her clit, sucking harshly to bring her closer and closer and closer to her impending orgasm.

Having discarded his eye patch, Aemond looks up at her with one pale blue eye and one glistening sapphire, the contrast harsh but eerily beautiful. Mila finds herself avoiding meeting his gaze, her eyes scrunching shut

"He can't have you." Aemond growls between her legs, "He won't have you. Not after everything."

His teeth grind down on her clit, and with a silent scream, Mila's legs shake around his head, falling over the edge.

Euphoria clouds her mind as she watches Aemond crawl over her, kissing along her neck up to her jaw, where he mumbles unintelligible words against her sweaty skin.

The head of his cock brushes against her, and she whines against his face, pleading. For him to stop? For him to keep going? She didn't know.

"My love." Aemond groans, sinking into her to the halt, "Mine."

A protest sits on Mila's tongue, but it disintegrates as Aemond begins fucking her quick and hard, slamming his hips forwards and backwards like a madman. He sets a punishing pace, forcing her to feel every beautiful inch of him.

Her hands desperately grip onto him, his shoulder and his forearm. His one eye watches her, a fierce passion within its depths, the sapphire almost shining within his barren socket.

Her body sings for him, moans escaping her lips as she begs him not to stop. For a moment, Mila can almost forget everything that's happened.

A headlight outside passes over Aemond's face, casting shadows that morph his face into that of his brothers.

Aegon's name sits on her tongue, almost escaping her as the vision of her ex-boyfriend's older brother brings her closer to her rapidly approaching peak.

Something crosses over Aemond's face as he watches Mila's eyes glaze over, almost as if he could read her mind.

Her flips her over, sharply re-entering her from behind. Mila gasps, bracing herself on her forearms, her body surging forward with every harsh pound of Aemond's hips.

He threads his fingers into her hair, tugging on her scalp whilst his other hand smooths down her back.

"Tell me how good it feels." He commands, delivering a sharp smack to her ass. Mila whines, pushing back into him, "Yeah, that feels good, doesn't it? Fucking cockslut."

Mila babbles out, collapsing from her elbows onto her face, biting down onto the pillow as Aemond's thrusts increase in speed, fucking into her hard enough to make her back arch impossibly low.

"Oh gods... Aemond, I'm-" Mila sobs, feeling her orgasm quickly approaching.

"Fucking do it. cum all over my cock, that’s my good girl. My beautiful girl."

With a muffled scream, Mila arches her back, her cunt fluttering as Aemond's brutal fucking sends her into oblivion.

"That's it, there you go." Aemond grits out, panting as he fucks her through her orgasm, his cock throbbing with his impending high. With a low groan, he pulls her ass flush to his hips, emptying himself deep inside her until his cum runs down from where they meet, staining the sheets below them.

Aemond pulls out, causing Mila to groan at the sudden emptiness. The Targaryen collapses beside her, taking shuddering breaths. Mila remains as she was, her hair in her face as she stays fucked out. His fingers move the hair from out of her face, leaning forward to kiss her lips gently.

The moonlight shone through the sheer curtains of Aemond's old room, casting the Targaryen and the Stark in a sheen of white light. Aemond's breath has evened out, his one eye fluttering in his sleep, the other open. The sapphire sparkles, taunting Mila as she watched his face.

It feels like her stomach is alive with confusion and dread.

Aemond told her he loves her. He finally said it.

Isn't this what she wanted? All those months at his side, hoping that what they had was real. Hoping Aemond cared about her as deeply as she did him. For months all Mila wanted was to hear him tell her he loved her. Shouldn't that be anough now?

No. It isn't.

Because he's not the man she loves. Not anymore. Mila knows who she loves now, and it is not the man lying next to her.

Looking over at Aemond as he slept, Mila felt her stomach twist.

She shouldn't be here.

After throwing on her clothes hastily, she found herself speed-walking through the darkened mansion as her mind ran wild with thoughts of varying degrees of panic.

I fucked Aemond. I fucked my ex.

I love Aegon Targaryen.

"Miss Stark."

Mila bristles as she recognises the voice, turning around to see Otto Hightower standing in the doorway. He looks her over, an eyebrow raising in interest at her disheveled appearance.

"Hm." He hums, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Save it." Mila rolls her eyes, turning on her heel as she heads towards the foyer.

"Going to see Aegon?" His question stops her in her tracks, an icy chill sliding down her spine. Looking over her shoulder, she meets Otto's snake like gaze, a self satisfied smirk on his lips, "Tell him we'll see him soon."

"Leave him alone." Mila snaps, storming over to the man who, for a second, looks afraid, "Don't you ever try to force him into this role you made for him. We both know Viserys did not want Aegon to take over the company. You did. Because you think you can control him."

"Please-"

"It was Aemond at first." Mila interrupts him, "But now you know you can't control Aemond. That was made clear by him fucking Alys Rivers and fucking my relationship with him very publically."

Now Otto looks taken back, his usual smirk dropping slightly.

Mila smirks, "What? You think I didn't know? That you orchestrated our whole relationship to make us both look good? That went well, didn't it?"

"Whatever Aemond told you-"

"Aemond didn't tell me shit." Mila laughs, "I knew from the fucking start. Inviting my brother and I to that gala, sending Aemond off to flirt with me via cigarettes, him asking me out not two days later. You had this all planned out. But Alys wasn't in the cards, was she?"

"...No. She was not."

Mila smiles, with no joy to be found in it, "Yeah. She really fucked things up for all of us, huh? Well, her and Aemond."

Otto sits down, watching her as she crosses her arms.

"If Aemond had sticked by your rules, would you have wanted him to take over?"

"Doesn't matter what I want, Viserys was the head of the company."

"And who made the decisions for him when he became paralyzed from the waist down due to his medication?"

Otto smirks, nodding, "Alright. I yield. Yes, Aemond would have taken it over."

"And now, it's Aegons turn to play grandson of the year."

"He will ." He nods, "Larys has said he is driving down to the Beachouse. Took one of Viserys' cars, no less. By the end of this week, he will be getting dragged by his shirt collar back here, to take over the company."

"To play figure head while you take over the company."

The Hightower just smirks at her, humor evident in his eyes as he regards her. "You know a lot more than I realized." Otto says softly, quirking his head, "How?"

"Because I sit down and I listen." Mila rolls her eyes, "Figured that shit out when I was sixteen. People talk when they're drunk, when they're high, and when they think that the person listening to them is of no importance. Makes us people of no importance very powerful when they're around the right people yapping."

Otto watches her for a moment, the smallest of smiles on his lips. Taking this as her sign to leave, Mila rolls her eyes and turns on her heel, her head held high.

"I underestimated you." Otto calls after her, making her stop in her tracks, "She Wolf."

With a huff, Mila keeps walking.

Laena Targaryen was having a quiet night in, glass of wine in hand as she sat on her balcony on Driftmark.

Her daughters are on the mainland, and also both women in their early twenties, giving her nothing to worry about for the evening. Since she retired from modelling last year, she found many of her evenings were spent like this. Sitting in the sun,

Rhaenys walks out onto the patio, handing her the landline phone with an amused smirk. With a raised eyebrow, Laena takes it, blowing a kiss to her mother before she talks to whoever is on the phone.

"Hello?" Laena greets, taking a sip from her glass

"Can I borrow your car?" Mila stark asks.

AN// BEACH HOUSE, BEACH HOUSE, BEACH HOUSE.

I am my own worst enemy. My fingers had a mind of their own when they started writing that Aemond smut smh. I needed to give more to the Aemond girlies (me included), but don't worry there is still plenty more coming with bbg Aegon <3

Lula x

[visenyaism]

what do you think would have happened if the eye incident was the other way around? if aemond had taken luke's eye instead how would have viserys (and rhaenyra) reacted?

see that’s a tricky one because on the one hand cutting the eye of the favored son of rhaenyra the only child viserys cares about and also calling luke a bastard is absolutely a “get executed” level offense for anyone that isn’t 1) a prince 2) a child 3) the rider of vhagar. it’s not going to look good for the king to have his own like ten year-old son executed, but the usual outlets for problematic sons in westeros (the wall, fostering, the faith, the citadel, essos) aren’t available either because you absolutely have to keep an eye on Vhagar. You cannot send the ten year old with the biggest baddest WMD in all the realm into someone else’s custody.

i think if rhaenyra asks for aemond’s eye she’s absolutely getting the go-ahead from her dad. also because rhaenyra’s bruiser is daemon who unlike criston cole is not hesitating to de-eye a child because he has that prince impunity. as for the bastard rumors the hightowers probably lose an insane amount of favor at court for that, otto’s getting fired, and the kids maybe get split up from alicent if they can’t deflect off her starting the bastard allegations. ​

[sidraofthewildflowers]

The Story of Alicent and Criston

~ Alicent Hightower and Criston Cole were both students at NYU. Alicent had a passion for design and was majoring in architecture, while Criston, known for his ability to remember even the most obscure historical trivia, was pursuing a degree in history.

~ The two of them met in their freshman year in a communications course where they had the world’s worst professor. Alicent wasn’t completely sold on a friendship with Criston at first, but his sense of humor grew on her. They bonded over their shared hatred of their teacher, their passion for their areas of study, and the fact that they were both English students attending school in the states.

~ After realizing they were both failing the class, they formed a two person study group, and constantly helped each other out in class. Fortunately, after many all nighters they both ended up passing and they never had to take another class with that professor again.

~ As time went on, they’d often be found studying/procrastinating together at one of the coffee shops on campus, where they agreed the coffee was terrible but never stopped going.

~ Criston had an annoying roommate during his freshman year and so he would spend most of his time at Alicent’s (and her strange but kind roommate’s) apartment.

~ Without thinking about it, the two of them began doing everyday tasks together like grocery shopping, cleaning their apartments, and studying (even though by junior year they didn’t share any classes anymore).

~ Criston smoked since before Alicent met him, and refused to quit even when she’d nag him and tell him how terrible it was for him! She smoked on and off throughout college though (mostly during stressful periods).

~ Their roommates, were convinced they were in love, and teased them constantly. They always denied having feelings for one another and both of them dated other people on and off through college.

~ In their senior year, Criston began dating a girl named Rhaenyra, and Alicent was introduced by her father to a man named Viserys, which caused some rifts in their friendship.

~ Upon graduating, Criston was offered a job in the states, which he took, while Alicent returned home to be closer to her dad. Though they told each other they’d keep in touch it became more and more difficult, especially after Alicent told Criston that Viserys proposed and that she was expecting her first child.

.

.

.

~ 10 long years have gone by and Criston has moved back to London. He missed his family and he, luckily, found a teaching position at Oxford as a History professor. He’s excited to be back, to be home.

~ After a messy divorce, Alicent feels like she is finally free to live the life she’s always wanted. She can finally peruse a job within her field of study. Even if she’s constantly busy with her four children. They never seem to stop growing and they always have something for school due the next day. Aegon, her eldest, is 8. Helaena, her only girl, is 6. Aemond is 4 and Daeron had just turned 2 years old.

~ There was nothing she tried harder to do than to get herself and her children far away from her ex-husband. She needed to keep them safe, to let them live a normal life. It also helps that she was able to get a good amount of money from the divorce. Enough to buy a home in the city and get the uniforms her two eldest children need for school.

~ One day, after picking up the kids from school, she and her herd of children could be found shopping for groceries. Aegon was begging for a certain dinner, Helaena and Aemond wanted to buy a toy, and Daeron was busy chewing on his blanket. It was chaos, but the best kind. The one she loved.

~ She was listening to Aegon tell her about his day at school when her cart crashed into another’s. What she didn’t expect that day, was to look up and see her best friend, Criston Cole, standing there after 10 years of thinking she would never see him again.

~ The world seemed to stop when she saw him, and with the way that Criston was standing still, it was the same for him. The only thing that brought her back down to earth was Aegon pulling on her sleeve. “Mummy? Mummy?”

~ And so the next hour was spent with Criston helping her shop as they caught up with each other. She introduced him to the kids and while Daeron liked him, the others looked skeptical. He told her about his breakup with Rhaenyra, how hard he took it. She told him about her divorce and what she was doing now. He told her that he was back for good and that he had a teaching job at Oxford.

~ When he noticed just how many bags of groceries she had, he helped her bring all of them back to her house. Her house is only a short walk away and the both of them kept an eye on the kids whenever they crossed a street.

~ And so life went on. Criston was over all the time, he would take the kids out for fun activists. Alicent would take the kids to visit him at work. Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond became attached to Criston as time went on.

~ Alicent found an architecture job and before she knew it, she was finally letting her feelings for Criston come to light. After years of keeping quite, one night after the kids had gone to sleep, she told him that she had always loved him. And, luckily, he had said the same.

~ It was only a year or two after that when Criston moved in, and it wasn’t long before he was proposing. They were at Aegon’s soccer practice and Daeron was asleep between them. Criston turned to Alicent and said “Ali… would you wanna marry me?”. It didn’t take much convincing for her to say yes.

~ The wedding was a small one, full of friends and family members. The kids had fun on the dance floor and Alicent and Criston took as many pictures as they could.

~ The life that they had always wanted was finally theirs, after so many years, it was theirs.

.

.

With LOTS of writing help from @fatherforgivethem 🤍🤍🤍🤓

[humanpurposes]

Initial thoughts on Season 2 Episode 1

I understand there's a big cast, there are more locations, we're introducing new characters, but the scenes really need room to breathe and just exist within the story. There was so much jumping around, compared to 1.1 which was a lot more focused in terms of storytelling, but then we've got a lot more going on here.

The visuals are gorgeous, there are some really good interactions, but overall I'm somewhat underwhelmed.

I loved starting off in the North, the raven flying to Winterfell while Goodbye Brother played genuinely made me tear up. And for what little time we got with Cregan Stark I liked his conversation with Jace. Look at these two kiddos taking their responsibilities head on!!

Rhaenys ate Daemon up hehe. Daemon's still a loser.

So you could give me Criston "muff muncher" Cole but not a single line of dialogue from between Baela and Jace :/ I love the idea of Alicole being canon, but I expected their relationship to be a bit more subtle, a bit more tentative rather than having two sex scenes shoved in our faces with no explicit buildup from season 1.

I love Aegon trying to be a dad and how he looks at Jaehaerys in the small council. I like that he's more willing to take on the role as King, and whether he is looking for validation or if he's being strategic, it's interesting that he points out the importance of keeping the small folk happy, because he's absolutely right.

The disconnect between Aegon and Helaena breaks my heart. It's the point Tom and Phia made about them being parents, siblings and spouses, and they still can't find common ground. What gets me as well is that they're both trying to be good parents. They clearly love their children despite the terrible example of parenting they've had growing up, and the fact that they themselves are so young.

Otto's done with everyone lmao.

I wishhh we got more of the immediate fallout of Storm's End on the Greens' side. I wanted to see Aemond get berated, I wanted more panic from their side when they realise they're heading for war and the danger that will put them in.

Rhaenyra's limited screentime was really effective for me. Her finding Arrax's wing, her reuniting and grieving with Jace, the funeral, Emma plays those silent moments so well.

Blood and Cheese... I'm trying not to judge this too harshly because to be fair, I did have an idea in my head of what this scene was going to look like. I thought there would be more hysterics, and then it all happens so... simply. Phia did an incredible job with what she was given, and I do find it convincing that Helaena would shut down a little bit, that she'd go into this state of shock and want the situation to be over with as little fuss as possible. That's the thing with trauma as well, it's not always melodramatics and screaming and crying, sometimes it is just as simple as, "this awful thing is happening."

I wish there had been more buildup for this as Helaena's moment. As @ai-megurine said, this scene should have been told from Helaena's POV, her sharing a moment with both of her children not knowing these are Jaehaerys' final moments. I appreciate they tried to create a bit of an emotional connection between him and the audience with him in the small council chamber, this really could have set us up for a really gut-wrenching moment. That being said, sound will always get me, hearing the sawing was horrific, and the muffled crying killed me.

Is it a bit of a cop out that the assassins were the ones who decided to kill Jaehaerys and not Aemond? Daemon's the one going "a son for a son," so in a way it feels like a "will no one rid me of this troublesome priest" moment. They were technically following orders. I like this illusion of control when it comes to violence. Rhaenyra is as cautious as she can be in 1.10 because she knows things will get out of hand if she acts on her grief. It makes perfect sense that she wants Aemond dead, but then she's made the order for bloodshed and she can't fully control what happens next. Just like Aemond may not have intended for Luke to die the way he did, but he acted on impulse with terrible consequences.

[dirtytransmasc]

I want to amend this post, I need multiple things from Criston next season (and season 3, cause why not?) or I will be rioting (in no particular order, with various levels of angst/delulu-ness):

Calling all three of his boys "son" and similarly Helaena "daughter", that or his "sweet girl/boy" both would be preferable.

kissing his kids heads/foreheads. some instances could be; kissing Aegon's forehead as he carries him away from Rook's Rest. kissing Aemond's hair as he holds him outside of Aegon's chambers, his boy thinking he killed his brother. kissing Hel's temple when he visits his grandbabies (Hel angst coming later, savor this while you can).

Criston taking a private knee to Aegon, swearing to him like he had his mother, promising a duty that goes beyond what is expected of him.

comforting Helaena as she is plagued by dreams and prophecies.

playing with his grand kids.

sitting at Aegon's bedside while he heals.

Dad jokes.

bear hugging Daeron when he returns from Oldtown, lifting him all the way off the ground.

the dad "one armed hug shared in moments of fondness and laughter" thing, with Daeron.

Daeron and Criston sharing similar quirks and habits (not necessarily a conscious act by either party, but I still need it)

helping care for Aegon, being one of the few faces that keeps him some semblance of calm after everything, helping change bandages or sponge him clean. just soft moments of pained vulnerability and softness between a dad and his grievously injured eldest son.

praying for his children.

more... handsy... with Alicent, for lack of a better word. just soft comforting touches, like you would expect partners to share with each other. her family has been maimed, murdered, and/or sent to both battle and madness, let him comfort his (platonic) wife goddammit. let them hug actually, that's what I need, I need him to hug her.

sitting with Helaena and Jaehaera after B&C, trying to comfort them the best he can. Helaena going in and out of tears, sometimes she recognizes him, sometimes she doesn't. sometimes she is heartbroken beyond words, others she is angry. no matter what, he is there to protect her. give me a scene of him holding her as well, she needs it, she deserves a hug.

threatening Larys, especially if he pulls a stunt against Alicent like I think he might, knowing he can't kill him, that he's to much of an asset than they can risk going with out, but still hating him for what he does to his Queen. (see this post to understand what I mean by stunt)

embracing Aemond and Daeron, doing the forehead touch thing, each time they go separate ways, knowing any battle could be their last.

his last words being him begging Alicent and his kids to forgive him, apologizing for failing to protect them, for leaving them.

if we do get Afterlife scenes out of this hellish show, give me a scene of him reuniting with his grandkids, kids, and eventually his (platonic) wife. I'm begging.

putting aside a knife of his own to be given to Jaehaera if and when he passes, as a final means to protect her, even from the grave.

let him be emotional, in passing, when he's alone, let him shed a tear or two. I want to see the stress ooze from this man. I want to watch as the pain and death that follows his family breaks him down.

a clear difference between how he advises Aegon in front of the court and how advises him in private. risking a daggar in the throat on account of his son's blind rage and grief to protect his image amongst the court, but sharing a similar blood lust when it comes to avenging his daughter and grandchildren.

at least one shot of him standing with one of his kids' dragons.

just give me Criston being a good dad and (platonic) husband.

[aphroditelovesu]

yan!mom rhaenrya + yan!dad laenor + yan!dad criston = bby reader in a conflict.

IMAGINE IF BABY READER HAS A THREE-HEADED DRAGON, OBVIOUSLY HIS PARENTS (RHAENYRA, LAENOR AND CRISTON) ARE PROUD OF THEIR BABY.

but you should also think about yan!grandfather viserys and yan!grandmother alicent (who knows that baby reader is criston's son).

No but like, the whole family dynamic (which, let's face it, was never really good) would just get worse after this family became yandere for you. No, follow along, Criston is a hypocrite, he's constantly trash-talking Rhaenyra and her bastards (not you) but he doesn't even try to hide how much he adores you. How much he is in love with his bby.

Criston wants to be involved in your life, he demands it, he demands to be a present to you, and Rhaenyra won't let him near you, which really pisses him off. He is your father, your real father, so he has every right to take an active part in your life. You would be quite protected and pampered by him, Criston has nothing to offer, being a royal guard he can't have things but he still goes out of his way to make you happy. Unknown to your mother, he takes you on walks outside the castle and is constantly hovering around and watching you.

If you're observant enough, you can see the look of jealousy and hatred directed at Laenor. He hates him, really, as much as he hates Rhaenyra, he hates how much time he spends with you, how he always seems to hog your attention. If Criston gets the chance, he'll beat him to death.

Rhaenyra doesn't want Criston around you, she won't accept it and will possibly encourage you to stay away, which leaves you torn, you like Criston (in this case, you don't know he's your real father) and he always treated you very well, so you didn't understand why your mother wanted you away from him. You are her precious child, it is a fact that Rhaenyra loves all her children, but it is no secret that you are her (as well as your father's) favorite. She doesn't want you to be poisoned against her, Rhaenyra is well aware of Criston's feelings for her and she fears he will try to poison you against her. She can not let that happen.

Anyway, there's no way your mom would let your dad try to steal you away from her. You are hers precious bby, hernmost loved and protected child, there is no way in the world that she would allow you to be stolen from her. Rhaenyra would personally kill Criston if he attempted a bold move.

Laenor would be the calmer one in the situation, he is well aware that you are not in fact his child, although you might look a lot like him, he knows, even more so because of Criston who, whenever the opportunity presents itself, he will let quite clear that you are his child. It really bothers Laenor, you see, he really is in love (platonically) with you, he cares and loves you more than his other children. He can't explain why, but there's something about you that attracts him, you're so perfect, aren't you? He, like your mother, doesn't want Criston near you, he's become overprotective and a little possessive of you, he even sees personal competition. It doesn't help that he already has old grudges against Cole and knowing he wants to take care of you only makes him angrier, he won't allow it. Laenor wants to be your most beloved parent, he wants to be your favorite and he will be.

In a way, he's the one who takes up most of his time. He demands to have you by his side at all times, and there's nothing Criston can do about that. Well, at least in public.

If you have a three-headed dragon, these three would go crazy. Feelings of pride and worry would be very common. Rhaenyra and Laenor will be very proud of you, you're really their perfect child, all about you proves this and having you riding such a powerful dragon leaves them almost tears. Criston will be happy and proud but crazy of concern. He is very afraid of you to get hurt, or your dragon hurt you, and if you fall during the flight? He feels the dread and fear filling him when you ride in your dragon. It takes everything that exists in it not to try to stop you.

Overall, these three would fight about you and you will be pulled by side, but the three will join when a threat to you. No matter how much they hate themselves, you are the priority and they for a moment can leave the hatred aside to protect you. Just for you.

Viserys as yan!grandfather would be the kind of grandfather who spoils you a lot, he just adores you. It's no secret who his favorite grandchild is. He would take up a lot of your time as he gets older and will always need you by his side, his beloved grandchild. He's well aware of the rumors swirling around you that you're a bastard, but he's made it clear to everyone that no one should ever question your heritage. You are his grandchild, whoever your father is, you are his blood and he loves you too much to allow unpleasant rumors about you.

Alicent will have opinions contrary to you. While she makes her feelings for Rhaenyra and the other bastards very clear, she likes and appreciates you. At first, she didn't quite know what to think, you're a bastard, child of her sworn protector, so she was torn. But after getting to know you better, she finally understood the reason for so many fights. You were so… special, she didn't know why, but she couldn't hate or despise you. Alicent treated you well, she took care of you when she had the chance and would be a yan!grandmother possessive of your attention and, because she is the Queen, she almost always comes out with the upper hand in a situation. And since she and Criston are very close, he would be more likely to spend time with you. She would be nice to you and she was really warming up to you.

Not only would you have three yandere and possessive parents, but now two grandparents who want your attention at all times. What a situation, right?

The situation would be even more complicated if Alicent wanted you to marry one of her children to keep you close to her. And, well, your yandere parents won't accept that.

~ Lady L

[flowerandblood]

Review from the Vatican

House of the Dragon Season 2 Episode 1

AGHHHH!!!!! I LOVED IT. I LOVED ITTTTT. I don't care what others think, I had tears in my eyes throughout the entire episode! I couldn't imagine a better season opener, really. It was fantastic first episode, better than the one from season one in my opinion.

Below are my spoiler thoughts and my husband's impressions – beware, comments section is not spoiler free.

Alicent x Criston???? Honestly, that's the only spoiler I got, but it was still worth it, lol! Their relationship is very interesting! I like the idea that Alicent kind of get what she always envied Rhaenyra. Scene in the Sept with her burning candles made me very emotional. And her trying to justify Aemond and Aegon? Her sending apologize letter to Rhaenyra? Heartbreaking!

Aegon trying to be a dad who cares and a good king in his weird, boorish way? Helaena saying that she is afraid and his response, that there's nothing to afraid of – then when she says that she is afraid of rats he looks around the chamber as if thinking that there are really rats there. When he nor the servants sees none he is going back into joking mood, not knowing what to do with her words. I love, loooove that we get a scene between them!

Helaena giving away her boy not knowing what to do? Helaena running away with her daughter? Helaena in complete shock, entering her mother's chamber, not even caring what is going on there?

I really like the change that they wanted them to kill Aemond, not Helaena's children. It has a lot, lot more sense for the plot for me (I know that some Team Green people will complain that they make them "look better" – I'm not any team and for me it just look more logical that you want son for a son that actually KILLED YOUR BABY.

Rhaenyra finding Luke's body and grieving? Jace talking to Cregan on the wall? Aemond being Aemond?

AMAZING

As to the Aemond: Aegon calling him a hound, but like, in some tender way, like: my brother will fucking destroy our enemies and protect our family. I love the feeling that Aemond deep down, as Otto said, want to PROVE himself, because he FUCKED UP so much.

And him teasing Criston Cole? My fucking God that was hilarious.

I loved Alicent × Otto conversation a lot too.

My husband really enjoyed the entire episode. Overall, I'm proud of him for understanding what was going on so well and we both laughed during the scene in the Throne Room with Aegon and Otto. He was surprised that Helaena gave up her son so easily and didn't really believe she did it: in my opinion, she just knew that if she didn't do it, they would kill her and her daughter too.

The next episode looks completely crazy. We'll see what happens in the brothel, aghhhh.

FUCKING JUSTICE FOR THE DOG. 🤬🤬🤬🤬

If you want, write about your thoughts, but please take into account that I will simply delete and block messages/comments that insult other fans or me. I invite you to a joyful and pleasant discussion!!!!!

[anxiousnerdwritings]

What about Yandad!Criston with his and Rhae’s bby?

You thought the custody battle between Daemon and Rhea was messy, just you wait. Sir Criston Cole is definitely the type of dad to use his child as a way to get at Rhaenyra, any way he possibly can. I see this all going down after the two had their falling out, fairly quickly after marrying Laenor, Rhaenyra realizes she’s pregnant and there’s really only one person who could be the father at that time, but she sure as hell isn’t going to tell Criston jack shit now that he’s turned against her. I can see her heavily contemplating telling him but just seeing the absolute disdain in his eyes when he looks at her is more than enough to let her know that it would be better off for her and their child if he didn’t know. Only the gods know what kind of can of worms that will open up.

When Criston does realize that he has fathered Rhaenyra’s first child, there’s a lot of feelings going on within him. At first, he’s disgusted upon the sight of what is the embodiment of his dishonor and the breaking of his sworn oath, but with some time and Alicent in his ear, Criston comes to see his child with Rhaenyra as a blessing in disguise for what would surely be Rhaenyra’s inevitable downfall.

Now, I’m torn between whether Criston would try to be a father to his child, and a good father at that, or if he’s too far gone with his hate for Rhaenyra that he’ll be completely blinded by his own bitterness to see his child as anything other than a part of their mother. I can absolutely garuntee though that Alicent will have a very prominent role in this ‘custody battle’ and in the child’s life while they reside at King’s Landing.

It’s also safe to say that Rhaenyra would no doubt be thrown into becoming a yan!mom, especially for her child with Criston. She wouldn’t trust him one bit with their child, whether he knew the child was his or not. And she certainly wouldn’t trust Alicent’s intentions with her child either.

[bucknastysbabe]

now, catholic school priest criston and aemonds twin. Criston is from a catholic family, wanted to be a priest since he was a little boy, going to the sunday mass with his mothet was like the highlight of his week, went into the seminary very young, never had a girlfriend, he is a good man alright. then aemonds twin, whos not catholic, not even christian, her dad doesnt even go to church but alicent is very catholic and she wanted her kids to go to catholic school. but shes a menace, a straight up gremlin, like aegon but a girl and not a loser (srry aegon ily). And criston is sure the devil sent her to tempt him and shes like but what if it was god the one who sent me for you??? And specially for you??? Like, as a treat?! 🤗

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6k of filth and catholic guilt

Tags: 90’s catholic school setting, Criston had the Crisis, mutual masturbation, confession booth shenanigans, age difference, manipulation, teacher/student relationship, sexual tension, Targtower reader, Criston’s woe is me internal monologue, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, pnv!sex, Jesus saw that Crispy, DESPERATION, priest kink, #imahorridcatholic

A/N: I made that priest edit and I’m proud also listened to talk by hozier for the entire last part. I’m a gremlin and made her her daeron’s twin.

Taglist: @fairysluna @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @arcielee @bambitas

Criston knew his purpose since the day he could recall. Nothing pleased him more than sitting in mass with his mother, going through Sunday school, getting ready to become an official Catholic. Confirmation was the one of the happiest days of his life.

Vocation became the forefront of Criston’s mind in school. He probably annoyed the hell out of Father Dondarrion, pestering the priest with questions upon questions about seminary. In the mean time, he was the best altar boy a Cole could be. A-team altar boy! Strong fumbled the bells every time, it repulsed Criston.

He did other school things such as tennis, won a state championship in that, got some offers for a spot on a college team. Then in the other season he played second base for the baseball team, won a state championship in that and received multiple offers to college teams. No, Criston had his mind made up. He could lead others to victory— through Christ’s love of course. He had to admit his father was quite pissed about the baseball team but he’d be okay. Criston had a little brother, he was athletic.

The young man had even tried dating, just to see if God called for Criston to instead populate the world and lead a family. Not tend to the flock of sheep. There was a plethora of girls but he fell for a devil.

Her name was Rhaenyra Targaryen and she left him in a puddle of tears. The rich girl couldn’t respect staying chaste until marriage. He was ready to give her a ring. The priest sniffed recalling her harsh words, “You, like, won’t even dry hump me? What’s the point?” At the time the young man was miffed, broken, distraught. Criston held a hand over his heart as he whispered tearily, “You want me to be your whore?”

Mind you, he was a foolish 17 year old. The man was tested with her, but he learned from the experience. Criston was obviously meant to be a priest. He prayed and prayed for God to reveal his path. The answer came in Father Dondarrion giving Criston a letter from the Archbishop himself, inviting the young man to join seminary.

Criston took his first vows at the tender age of 18. He spent the next seven years learning and perfecting his bond with God, ready to guide his brothers and sisters in Christ. He’d smile and wave off comments at his home parish, often elder women asking why such a handsome young man would devote his life to chastity.

He rarely thought much of it. Jerking off was a boring thing, simply a biological process Cole needed to take care of. He took no shame nor pleasure in it, not truly thinking of anything at all. It would lessen as he aged but currently Criston was twenty-five and a ‘hot blooded’ young man.

He got his first job as a teacher in a Catholic school. At the beginning, Father Criston Cole found a passion for teaching while on a mission trip. He was ecstatic for the job. A year later he was significantly less overzealous. Add some years later Criston found himself, well, bored. Agitated. Discontent if you will.

Lord knows he had to calm himself for these wayward children. After a long day the man would pour some scotch and wonder why the rich ones were the worst behaved. Especially the damn Targaryens— he thought he could escape from that name.

Rhaenyra’s father had remarried and they had five children. Rhaenyra had five herself, different fathers came the whispers. The two youngest apparently looked like her. Criston smirked into his glass, God was watching and protecting him even as a foolish kid. She left the church anyways, but the children were polite and well-behaved in class.

Alicent Hightower-Targaryen’s children were a handful. Aegon made Criston sick to his stomach, the idiot either drunk or high in class, flipping up skirts of poor girls. If the priest thought about the eldest too long he’d grow a headache. He chose not to dwell on the fact that the family generously paid for Aegon to graduate— like a twisted version of simony.

Then along came sweet Helaena, she made good marks but often had to be drawn back to attention, and he tried to stifle the bullying drawn to her strange nature. Aemond was another headache, in a good way. He seemed to fit the vocational lifestyle and bonded with Criston over it. Criston truly enjoyed discussing hot topics in the church with the smart lad.

Aemond just needed to let his anger go and let God in, Criston had to do the same, his temper could be stormy. Then Aemond graduated and went off to study the sciences. Criston frankly thought he was done. He forgot. The twins were seniors and signed into his year-long Papal History elective.

He was now 32, and God really had sent him a test this time. In the form of good-natured Daeron’s wily sister. He had to send her to the Headmaster’s office the first day! The pale-haired girl was wearing an…indecent…skirt. One to catch long shapely legs.

He huffed and downed the rest of his scotch. He knelt before his icon of Christ and prayed. ‘Please my loving lord, I am afraid you shall test me, but give me the strength to pass through this.’ He felt strange. This girl was trouble. Criston wiped his face and grabbed his scotch again, one more would do for the night. He hissed, “FuckingfuckfucksticksFUCK!” Eyes widening he apologized to the empty room, “Forgive me my lord, that was uncouth.”

It was November 1997. Father Cole thought about making a request to a parish to be their full-time priest. He suited up for the lovely worship of Mass, mood sour. Deacon Erryk was next to him, almost out of his seminary studies. Erryk hummed, “How’s the class this year?”

“A pain in my side. I have another Aegon Targaryen in the form of his youngest sister. She seeks to make me miserable.”

The man stifled a laugh and prodded, “Damn. Aegon was bad, he was in my class with you. My condolences Criston, pray that Mary will bless the girl with some sense.”

Criston grumbled, “Indeed.” He felt old. Erryk was about to be a priest now.

Mass went off good as gold, the younger altar boys falling into place easily. He could always see the believers and non-believers based on their actions. Some wouldn’t even stand when he entered the room, the cross bearer ignored too. If Criston could start throwing Holy Water he would, ingrates.

In the front row, Daeron and his sister sat. Criston tried not to grimace as he sat down in his chair. They’d have mass every Friday at the school. Confession on Tuesdays. Criston would teach a RCIA class next semester for those outside of the school at night.

She was staring at him, wearing another little dress with her button-up underneath the skinny straps. He could see her smokey eyeshadow and glossed lips, moving around a piece of gum. Daeron held himself in reverence, hands clasped. Criston turned away, he would not give the evil little blonde any satisfaction!

He shivered when she knelt and took the body of Christ, tongue lapping against his fingers with a licentious look. The priest almost yelped, moving onto the next. He was shaken for the rest of the ceremony. Maybe he should call for advice— no, no, they would think Cole some sort of deviant pedophile. That was a problem enough and she was merely being a temptress. ‘Son of a fucking BIIIIIIITCH’, he thought angrily. Then did the sign of the cross.

The beleaguered priest sat at his desk during his planning period, grading papers. The headphones on his head played some songs— his only vice. He loved ‘radical’ music. So Criston kept that little secret to himself. He liked to belt rock ballads. Only by himself in the rectory.

How embarrassing. A grown man of the cloth.

The door opening had Criston jerking his head up, hand flicking off his walkman. He raised a brow when it was the little Targaryen and her mother, livid by her expression and wild red hair. She shoved the girl in a seat and crossed her arms.

Criston stood up and greeted the frankly scary woman, “Miss Hightowergaryen, oh, Hightower-Targaryen yes!” He peeked at teary red eyes, deadpanning, “And you.” The senior scoffed, “Good to see you too Father.” He ignored her quip and cautiously asked, “What seems to be the problem?” Alicent raved, “She’s going off the wrong path, just like Aegon. Guess where Aegon is, tell Father Cole please!” She gave her daughter a sharp look.

The girl mumbled something before getting a pinch to her arm. She croaked, “He’s in rehab! Rehab! Alright there mom!” The younger curled in and hid under her blonde hair, streaked with some sort of red dye.

He frowned but couldn’t say he was quite surprised. Criston offered, “My apologies, may he find the light of His way soon. Occasionally some rejoin the church or convert after getting clean and sober. Is there an issue with my student Miss?”

Alicent sighed, calming a bit and taking a deep breath. She looked up, doe eyes wide and pleading. The mother asked, “Can we go into your private office for a second Father?” She stopped and hissed, “Don’t you move an inch!”

A roll of violet eyes was the answer, pouting lips turning further downward.

Criston perched on his desk and tried to soothe the woman, “Alicent, relax my old friend, what can I do for you?” He offered a look of sympathy, watching her pace and run a hand wildly through her hair. The woman stopped in place and whimpered, “She’s so lost, I can’t screw up another one of my babies. I need you to keep an eye on her, pray and guide, something…Something so I know I tried.”

She looked very tired, taking a sharp breath in to chew at her nails. Alicent rambled, “She was so good, her and Daeron were so good. Then she turned sixteen and something happened, I don’t know what, and it’s gotten worse. She hates Sunday mass, like Aegon and Rhaenyra. I don’t want to lose her forever to whatever this is, straying off the path.”

He nodded contemplatively, hand on his chin, thinking. Alicent was in a state of chronic stress, even back when they were all in school. She married Rhaenyra’s father so young, nineteen to be exact. He felt a need to protect the woman of God, just trying her best to lead her children to heaven since Viserys did not seem to be in the picture.

He swore, “I’ll do my best, you have my word Alicent. God bless you, let me bless you.” He prayed over her and the tenseness seemed to leave her shoulders. Alicent smiled softly and thanked Criston, the pair of them exiting the office.

Her daughter remained seated, looking more miserable by the second. She gazed up with curious eyes, mouth still set in a pout. Alicent beamed, “Father Criston will be keeping an eye on you and reporting to me, okay? You will behave and try to learn that the path of the righteous is never easy.”

She raised a brow, “So I’m going to have my priest follow me around? That’s uncool.”

Alicent stiffened and remarked, “No. You’ll come to him when in trouble. You’ll be spending lunch with him too so you don’t go off and smoke like a vagrant. We will go sign it in with the headmaster now. Get up.”

Criston had to hold his jaw closed. He definitely did not know what he was signing up for. Hail Mary, full of grace rambled off in his head. This would be a tumultuous year for sure— inked and sealed onto paper. God bless him.

“I guess we’ll be the best of friends now,” she snarled tearily.

Criston placed a hand on her shoulder and hummed, “God works in mysterious ways Targaryen.” Internally he was climbing a mountain and shouting at the heavens like some Bible prophet. He was feeling very Job-like at the moment.

First of all, he truly didn’t expect the girl to sit in his classroom during lunch. Criston raised a brow when she entered, slammed down her lunch and plopped down. She cocked her head and smiled, “Afternoon father.”

“Afternoon,” he replied, turning his gaze back upon the scripture he was annotating. Cole wanted to comment on her sudden chopping of that beautiful white-blonde hair, or the fact she smelled of minty cigarettes. She wasn’t supposed to be smoking.

It remained quiet until she blurted, “Do you smoke?”

Yes, in fact he did. But she didn’t need to know that. Criston murmured, “No I do not.” To which she lobbed back, “Is it not a sin to lie? I saw you in the parking lot! Also you smell like marlboros sometimes.” Her face turned bright red— like she had no control over her yapping.

Criston peeled off his glasses and sat back in his chair to level the girl with a stern look. He flatly stated, “Yes, good point, it was a sin for me to lie. Although as your teacher and priest I would not have you pick up bad habits,” he took a moment before asking, “How do I smell of cigarettes in class? Are you sniffing me?”

She stammered, “N-no! No! It’s just when you pass by, I don’t know, stop!”

Criston shook his head in concern, “Please do not sniff me in class, that’s, that’s strange.”

“I don’t sniff you! Quit saying that! Okay, enough of smoke talk! Hi how are you doing Father Cole?,” she animatedly gestured, eyes wild and cheeks pink.

He couldn’t help but snicker at her mad gestures. Snickers turned into genuine laughter, Criston slapping his desk a bit. A different hand slapping down on his desk made the man look up, donning a grin at her grumpy face. The littlest dragon hissed, “Ha-ha very funny. I asked you a question. Small talk, since I’m stuck here with you for lunch.”

Criston shrugged and replied, “Ask a better question, I don’t know how I’m doing half of the time. Especially having to babysit a legal adult.”

Her pout was endearing, the girl biting into her sandwich in an aggressive manner. She chewed and swallowed before blurting, “Is it true my half-sister dumped you in highschool?” Criston squawked in surprise, heaven on earth, how would she even get the knowledge? Rubbing the bridge of his nose he sighed.

“Yes, she dumped me. Didn’t want to stay chaste until marriage. That was a little personal don’t you think Miss Targaryen?”

She seemed to contemplate his words, sounding out her thoughts, “Now you’re a priest and she has like 2 baby daddies and a gay hubby. Cool. Love my family.” Her laugh was a sharp giggle, almost sarcastic in nature. Nothing like the torture of Aegon’s nonsensical shrieks.

Criston smiled a bit at the information, leaning back in his chair. He sucked on his teeth and asked her, “Why’d you cut off all your hair?” She narrowed her eyes and smiled, “I was wondering if you would make a comment, quote some scripture that shorter hair is for lesbians and therefore I’m going to hell.” The older man gaped and stared, almost choking at her blunt words.

“No- what? You’ve got some sort of an imagination!,” he sipped on a water bottle, offended she would assume he was that mean, “I think it fits you nicely, glad whatever dye you put in was lost in the chop.” He shook his head, muttering about lesbian scripture. She giggled again, content with flustering the priest.

Criston tried to hold off a headache as she yapped about school. He snorted a bit when she marked some of the students on the dot. Soon the bell rang and she packed up her lunch, swinging her backpack on. Stopping at the door she asked, “So what’s your poison of choice? I like the fancy camel ones.”

He stared blankly before deadpanning, “Marlboro reds, now begone Targaryen.”

Her endearing giggle echoed as she left, the door swinging shut. Criston sat back in his chair and sighed— she had spunk. He quite appreciated it. Maybe she was a gift to spice up his growing distaste of where his life was at.

His dark eyes widened. He’s got to be too young for a midlife crisis? Now he really wanted a cigarette.

Father Criston Cole was indeed having a mid-life crisis. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, fitting his clerical collar on. Peering closer he inspected his face. He was still relatively young looking, hair not showing any grays. Practicing a smile he immediately dropped the grin. Crows feet. Great.

The priest shivered at the slight wrinkles. Why did he care? He didn’t have anyone to impress. A cheeky smile and icy eyeshadow, choppy blonde hair flitted through his mind. Goodness gracious he was her teacher, her priest, went to school with the girl’s parent. A spiritual guide!

This was bad. The damn girl had him wrapped around her ringed pinky. Bringing her little gifts, letting the blonde stay after school to chit chat. One time he let her cry on his shoulder, upset about rumors swirling. Criston heard a lot in the classroom.

Slut, whore, burnout, bitch.

He didn’t want to know what the little dragon got up to in her spare time but his knuckles did whiten at the thought of her not treating her body as a temple. Letting stupid boys have their way. Not like he could help. He was a priest and the farthest he’d ever gotten was smooching Rhaenyra and grabbing her tit before freaking out.

He needed to pray. Pray away these sinful thoughts. Guilt wracked his chest. He couldn’t turn the girl away either— he made a promise to Alicent. On a better note, her grades and attendance had improved. Ali called him once to thank the priest for helping her daughter. Although the girl still was apprehensive about faith. He didn’t push the subject; she didn’t bring it up. Maybe sometime soon.

Brushing back his curls, Criston sprayed cologne on his dark garb. He bought it on a self-indulgent whim. Maybe to cover the cigarette smoke, truly to entice a certain favorite student. Instead he was pestered by other girls bringing treats and batting their eyes at him. The man of the cloth could care less about the others. He was hopelessly haunted by his agnostic, rebellious student.

The man prayed some, did a Hail Mary before smoking a cigarette or five with his coffee. He was jittery at school now, worried that somehow a teacher or the elder nun would run and declare him a sinful wretch. Locking himself in the office until class time seemed like a good option.

He tried to grade some papers, mind drifting off to the increasingly heavy burden on his shoulders. Something needed to give— he was afraid what that might be. Deacon Arryk gave the homily that morning mass since Criston was out of sorts. Trying to not stare when she knelt and took the body of Christ. Playfully flicking his fingers with that tongue and saying ‘amen’.

Thank the Trinity and the saints he was covered head to toe in thick vestments. Hiding his cock just brought to mind Criston’s change in habit. Jerking off wasn’t a mindless activity anymore. He imagined plump lips and her raspy voice, teasing him, so delightfully mean. Then he’d flip her around and- he usually came with a pathetic noise by that point in the fantasy.

He pressed his fingers into his temples, groaning aloud. Doomed. Eternal hell. Purgatory sentence maximum if he got lucky. The second bell of the day woke the man from his racing mind. Criston straightened up and popped some gum in. Mary take pity on his soul. Satan himself was testing Criston. Although he couldn’t help but think she was anything but demonic.

The next day the tired priest had to attend confession for two hours. Usually it wasn’t a laborious affair; most of the kids who attended were the devout sort and only had some venial sins. Daeron Targaryen was a regular attendee, his twin was not.

He thought he was done for the day, sighing in relief. The two hours were up. Until the curtain swished and someone entered. The brunette thought to groan and hit his head on the wood. Fuck him— sorry, forgiveness please Lord for the profanity.

Criston’s eyes widened when he heard a familiar voice. That lilting, teasing, raspy voice that was the specter of the nightmares and fantasies. He could faintly see the outline of her, that damn silvery blonde hair.

“Uhhh, bless me father for I have sinned. It’s been, uh, one year since my last confession?” She made the sign of the cross, bracelets jingling. Criston could snort— blondie was obviously reading off a note card. She remained quiet afterward.

He prodded, “Go on child.”

She huffed, “I’ve lied, slandered, gossiped about others. I’m inattentive in mass. I don’t respect my parents. I’ve been ungrateful, taking the lords body out of a state of grace. Obviously I’m egotistical, depraved of thoughts, I’m selfish.”

Father Cole swallowed.

She laughed blithely, “I could probably keep going except for mortal sins? I steal, sneak, deceive, suffer from jealousy and envy. Bad bad envy. Always want what I can’t have, y’know?”

He wanted to ask her to clarify…but had a feeling.

The twin’s voice lowered to a purr, “I think you’re waiting for the grand finale. I’m lustful, wanton, perform unnatural acts of sex. Inordinate affection, especially for men who are sworn to another. I defile myself to the thought of him.”

Criston gripped his black slacks roughly, cock swelling so fast he was pretty sure his vision had spots in it. He discreetly tried to readjust himself, swallowing back a whine. The man was no better than a horny boy— denying the pleasures of the flesh for so long.

“I’m a fornicator. Not lately. I can’t stop touching myself to the thought of him.”

The priest hadn’t stopped rubbing himself, biting on his bottom lip to shut up as she rambled on. Oh, it felt so goddamn good he was panting. Meanwhile from the other side he could hear her shifting, voice growing breathier as she talked.

“I think about him touching me, kissing me, those pretty lips and dark eyes only for me. I fucking hate when other girls talk to him— I slashed one’s t-tires.”

“No swearing,” Criston grunted.

“Sorry, where was I? I came so hard the other day wondering what his cock would feel like inside of me. I don’t know if y- he would last long but I’d keep riding, oh mmh!,” her breath hitched and he could hear slick noises from beyond the screen. She was touching herself in the booth. Touching herself. In the booth.

He leaned back, head thumping against the wood, practically humping his hand. Criston whined through his nose, mouth hanging open. The man was a goddamn mess, pleading, “You’d ride him huh? Until he got ready again?”

“Mhmmm, yeah, I’d put his pretty cock in my mouth until I felt him get hard. Hah, what do you think he would do to me?”

Oh holy spirits, he had no clue? Everything? He’d do anything? He drew on his fantasies and the dirty mag a boy brought to class once. Criston went home and asked forgiveness for seeing the woman…doing that.

His voice was much more desperate than he expected, tan cheeks turning a shade of darker red. Criston rambled, “I, oh heavens, he would do whatever she asked, maybe, maybe, put his mouth on her.”

He must have said the right thing, her breath quickened and he could see the outline of her arm moving faster. Emboldened, Cole practically whined, “He’d lick and suck at her until she was crying and grabbing his hair, ohfuckinghellfires!” Criston’s cock throbbed and twitched as he cursed and shoved a hand down his slacks.

“Yeah? Yeah? He’d eat me out? Suck on my clit, slip some f-fingers inside? I’d want it so bad,” she whimpered shakily. The priest panted and popped the button so he could fist himself easier, moaning shamelessly, scrunching his eyes closed.

The blonde’s voice was muffled, “Mmm- I’d take such good care of him, he could e-eat me out but I’d ride his cock until he couldn’t cum anymore, F-father please!” Criston could hear her squeal and his dark hair fell into his face as he curled inward. He babbled uselessly, rubbing himself as spurt after spurt of seed wetted his briefs.

There was a heavy feeling in the confession booth. The pair panted, sitting in silence. Shame poured over Criston like a bucket of ice. He quickly rearranged himself to not look like someone who just had the most intense orgasm of his life. The priest wanted to talk, truly, but he had no words.

So he bolted, ignoring her calls of his name. Criston kept moving, heading toward the rectory, he’d have to call out. Everything was spinning and he needed to just, just, he didn’t know. The stickiness in his pants was worsening the horrid feeling of being a pervert, he should’ve just sent her away. He will end this immediately tomorrow, for both of their souls if he hasn’t doomed them.

She didn’t appear for lunch. Did appear for class, eyes blazing into Criston’s head. Daeron even coughed and shoved her. She was glaring, not writing a damn thing as he lectured about the battle of Lepanto. The priest’s palms began to sweat. He wished the clock would go quicker.

“I’ll get a ride home, don’t worry about me Dare,” she said after the bell rung, students packing up their bags. Daeron raised an eyebrow but shrugged, moving on. One girl attempted to approach Criston with some papers in hand.

The dragon hissed something and shoulder checked the girl— Criston reluctantly scolding the blonde. Like it mattered, the other girl hightailed it out of his classroom. Pale eyes landed upon his own dark orbs, a strange look on her face.

“Office,” she said. Cole wasn’t in the position to deny. He tossed and turned all night, fighting whether to say fuck it and hang up the cassock or dismiss her and never speak of it again. When she was in his presence it leaned toward the former.

Criston walked in first, closing the blinds while she followed him. The man’s head jerked up when he heard the sound of the door locking. Little Miss Targaryen was wearing a particularly form fitting version of the school uniform, tits pushed up under the white button-down. Suddenly Criston was swallowing drool.

She snapped, “Sit down.”

He grabbed her shoulders and shook the senior a bit, leaning down to growl, “Do you even know what the hell you’re getting into? This could ruin us both! You aren’t going to order me around, I’m the damn adult here, I swore to your mother!” He sounded desperate, weary.

She sneered up at him, unphased, “Sit down or I’ll leave and pretend this never occurred. I know you want it, you want me,” she yanked at his white collar, “Mommy doesn’t have to know, Father.”

Why Criston was like a dog at a damn eighteen year old’s commands? He wasn’t quite sure. His tongue was glued down anyways, only huffing as he perched on the chair. She padded closer, smelling of vanilla and some other perfume. He bit off a whine when she sat on his desk, thighs spreading, giving the priest a view of her lacy skimp of underwear.

“Fucking hell baby,” he pled, hands aching to touch.

“What? You sure were enjoying yourself yesterday.”

He moaned, “We shouldn’t— this could cost us our souls. The deceiver is manipulating us, a test. I lost my wits yesterday.” Criston’s fingertips dug into his leaner thighs, eyes flicking between her pretty smirk and the peak of baby pink panties. The girl hummed sadly, faux pout setting his heart to aching something fierce.

“What if it isn’t the devil? What if I’m just a gift, for you, just for you Father,” she leaned in to his face, “Think outside your little imposed box. Don’t you feel this?” She snatched one of his hands, pressing it upon her beating heart, her soft breast.

He looked guiltily to the side. Criston whispered, “If you were a gift then why is are my feelings so wanton and lustful?”

Purple eyes rolled. She hiked the skirt up, exposing pale thighs and her cute underwear. Criston whimpered under his breath, hand still on her breast, squeezing. The girl moaned, “Chaste love, no, I think he sent me just for you, maybe you had the wrong calling?” Criston threw caution to the wind— the festering in his head grew, rotting away his senses.

He’d already fucked up. Her points were making more sense by the second. Why not enjoy life before he spent the afterlife in torment? He peered at his favorite and rasped, “Show me what to do, putting my mouth on you. Can I touch you?” The brunette internally cringed at his whiny tone. She smiled victoriously, breath delightfully hitching, manicured hands unbuttoning her top.

Criston grabbed ahold of those pretty thighs, marveling at how smooth they were as he pulled them forward until her ass was the only thing perched on his desk. She squeaked and grabbed onto his dark hair, cheeks going blotchy with pink spots. The priest figured he’d have a little instinct, something long denied festering along with his sinful thoughts.

Right now he was face to face with her cunt and Criston had lost his bravado, brown eyes peering up at her. She smirked knowing she had the upper hand again. The Targaryen laughed, “Alright, panties off first Father. Do you even know female anatomy?”

He blushed darkly, ignoring the comment and yanking down those pretty panties. They matched her bra, her breasts spilling out of the push-up with heavy breath. He stuffed the lace underwear selfishly in his pocket. Criston gritted his jaw, cock pressing painfully hard against the fly of his pants. She was glistening, swollen, something he could only conjure up and still get it wrong.

“The clit is the nub at the top,” she breathed.

Criston searched her eyes with his own, abashed at the lack of knowledge before delving his face between silky thighs. He moaned pitifully, embracing the natural scent, her hand in his curls. The man lapped at her sopping hole, excitedly delving his tongue inside, already obsessed with the sweet nectar.

“Fffuck,” she whined, thighs tensing around his neck. Criston’s nose bumped against her clitoris, reminding him of the ‘magic spot’ he’d heard girls giggle about between class changes. He licked his way upward, moaning, ignoring his own need. Pink lips sealed around her button, tentatively suckling.

The blonde jerked and mewled, “Criston, Criston, yes Father!”

He flicked his tongue against the button, big hands keeping those strong thighs from closing. She was trying to scoot away from his onslaught on her, whining and shivering. Criston pulled back to rumble, “All that talk and you’re running from my tongue now little girl?”

“M’gonna fucking cum,” she half-sobbed.

The priest wasn’t going to give up. He kept his attentions on that bundle, even slipping two fingers inside her pussy, exploring until she keened again. More and more slick covered his chin and fingers, utterly lost in this divine feeling. The blonde’s legs were shaking now, breath coming in short sobs. She babbled something, one hand white knuckling the desk, the other knotted into Criston’s hair.

He wished he could have saved her shrill cry of his name as Criston pushed the younger woman over that edge. She gushed and spasmed, finally pushing him away to settle down. Her makeup was smudged, hair a fucking mess. Cole thought she never looked prettier.

He was goddamn insane over her and he knew it. The devil long had his claws gripped into the priest. The man just lied and ignored until he couldn’t. Criston grabbed her and placed her on his thighs, cock pulsing, him reaching down to relieve pressure.

The blonde wrapped her arms round his neck, pretty pink nipples exposed now, the push-up doing nothing to help. She plastered herself to his body, lips mouthing across his neck, murmuring, “You learn quick, s’good.” Criston rubbed at her back, slipping a hand down to her a handful of her cute ass.

She pulled back, pale eyes roving Criston’s face. He stared in a daze as she spoke in a sultry, raspy tone, “You’re so hard, wanna fuck you, lemme fuck you Father.” He couldn’t help but moan long and low at her desperate plea. His cock was fit to burst, straining his briefs now.

“I want it, I want it,” he gasped.

In a flurry of movement he yanked off the collar, it would sicken him to have it on. She pulled at the buttons, pausing to unhook her bra, Criston shoving down his pants and underwear. She moaned, placing hands on his chest and sliding down trim stomach until a little hand grabbed his ruddy cock.

He made a strangled noise, eyes rolling up in his head. No wonder people did this— sin was utterly sweet. Criston panted her name, about to guide her hips onto him. He paused, brows furrowing. The deceiver himself spoke through her voice, “I’m on birth control, doesn’t matter.”

That’s all he needed to hear, roughly lifting her to guide his cock into that slick pussy. Criston made a gutted noise as she slipped onto him. Warm, wet, so goddamn snug and gently ridged. He whined, straight up whined, “Don’t move, don’t move, baby baby oh— haaah!”

She purred and pressed soft tits against Criston, their shallow breathing intermingling. The female whispered softly, petting his shoulders and arms, “S’okay, breathe, relax.”

Criston shook from head to toe, exhaling sharply, pitiful noises escaping a raw throat. He pressed his swollen lips to her forehead, forcing rapid breathing to a calmer state. Still, still, the brunettes balls throbbed and twitched.

He was gonna fuck her dammit. He’d gotten this damn far, his darkest desire to fuck and fill her up after more than two pumps would kill Cole. She teased, hands back on his chest, playing with his medals, “You can do it Father, you’re not so twitchy.”

He shook his head silently, focusing on the task at hand. Father Criston Cole could never deny his sweet little dragon. She’d started squirming and whining on his lap, slick soaking his loins. He took a tentative thrust upwards, lashes fluttering.

The dam broke loose.

Criston fucked and groped, lips messily smacking against her pretty plump pout. She rode him in earnest, meeting him thrust for thrust. The chair squeaked, they moaned, grunted, cried out, a feral quality to the sacred act. He was soaking in the slaps of skin, her hitches of breath, chanting his name like a damn litany.

Criston grabbed onto her hips, planting his feet on the floor, biting his lip and scrunching eyes tight. He was moaning and moaning, drool slipping out between searing kisses. His balls were drawing tight— pounding with the need of his release.

He shoved her upwards onto the desk, thrusting brutally as she cried in ecstasy. Criston pled, “M’gonna cum, c-can’t stop, oh fuck.” She cried, “Yesyesyes don’t you dare stop, m’close!” The older man felt his balls slapping against her ass, eyes rolling up again.

His orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks, Cole mouthing at perky tits, moaning as his release soaked her pussy. It was like he was floating. She bit down on her hand to muffle a wail, arching into him, cunt convulsing and wetting him further.

But Criston couldn’t stop. He kept fucking through the oversensitive pain, sounding like he was in agony as he pounded into her. Their mixed releases made everything slide easier, his turgid cock not softening. He babbled, “Not done, another baby, take it for me, take me please.”

The blonde’s only response was clinging to his tan body, nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapped tight around his waist. She sobbed harder, “Do it do it— oh my God!” Criston whined her name through his nose, drunk off the feeling, not even aware of the blasphemy.

The office grew hot, noises of flesh and high sounds filling the small space. He couldn’t shut the fuck up either, rambling, “Wet baby, can’t help myself, gotta do it, fuck it all! M’still full up, gotta stuff you baby, how can I hngh not?” He reached down between them to circle haphazardly at her abused clit, the pretty thing writhing on his dick.

Another peak was approaching, he was already leaking, ready to empty another load deep inside her eager pussy. She tightened around him as he pinched her clit, crying real tears now, his name on her tongue like a broken record. Criston wetly cried into her fragrant neck, shoving himself deep inside to give her that last load.

He made a noise, she made a noise, everything growing foggy and distant.

Next thing he recalled was his demon, angel, twisted boon cuddled in his lap, tits still out. They were a sticky mess and he hoarsely asked, “How, ugh, long?”

“A couple of minutes. You went a little dumb there and I had to get your limp ass back into this chair,” she pressed her head into his chest, Criston naturally setting his chin on her head. His hands were slowly moving up and down her flanks. He still felt a bit dumb, dazed from the intense situation.

“You,” he swallowed, “Are a gift…I believe.”

She smiled softly, pecking his lips. The Targaryen mumbled, “We need to get ourselves together, I need a ride home.” Criston nodded, clinging tighter to her frame. He stammered, “O-okay, discuss this another time?”

“Sure, but after I show you what a blow job feels like.”

He didn’t object. The collar sat out of his sight, anything he once cherished gone from his mind. She took that place. He was irrevocably, obsessively infatuated. “I’ll have to leave my position after this year,” he murmured. She looked at him, a concerned look on dainty features.

“I think I’ll be around, will you?”

He remained silent, answer obvious in the air. He’d get down on his knees again and beg to never lose this gem. Fucked up from the get-go. For once, Criston Cole didn’t care. He kissed her instead.

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Moar haterism. 🔪 #25

#25 Common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing:

Thank you Branwen for indulging me. I have the perfect one for this because it's stupid and dumb and it drives me absolutely crazy every time someone brings it up. Am I actually going to bat for the show, for once? Yes I am!

If you visit the HotD subreddit at all, you'll see a thread every couple weeks or so bitching about the so-called "plothole" that was created when Criston was not punished for killing Joffrey Lonmouth, and every single time it will have hundreds of people in the comments going on about how it made so much more sense in the book because it was a tourney, and how it's so unrealistic that Viserys/Rhaenyra/Corlys/Laenor/Rhaenys did not demand Criston's head for killing poor Joffrey, the sworn sword of Laenor (sworn sword is always emphasized, like this is a big fucking deal). So let's break this down, and figure out who exactly is putting their neck out for the Knight of Kisses.

First of all, House Lonmouth are some second or third tier Stormlands nobodies (I looked up House Lonmouth before I called them nobodies and look at their coat of arms. lmao.)

Deeply unserious. Anyway. The most notable Lonmouths are notable for being friends of Laenor and Rhaegar. So yeah. This is a coattail rider house, not big movers and shakers. I'm sure mom and dad Lonmouth are not happy about their son getting his face bashed in at a betrothal ceremony, but it was a kingsguard who did the bashing, and they're just a nobody house from the Stormlands. The queen sends a purse for funeral expenses along with the body and says sorry for your loss. Are they going to travel to King's Landing and press the issue, pick a fight with the queen, and accuse a Kingsguard of treachery? A kingsguard who has after all taken a holy oath to defend the king, and who claims your son was threatening the princess? Probably not. You have a good cry and try to put it behind you.

That leaves Rhaenyra, Laenor, Viserys, and Corlys. So let's examine them, one by one.

Rhaenyra feels bad for Laenor. He's really upset, and she's shocked that Cole did such a thing, but she is also kind of nervous. Cole has a secret about her that could get both her and Cole killed, and if Cole is facing execution for murder, he might just let that secret out. After all, if there's going to be an investigation, Cole will be questioned. She's also eyeing the queen a bit suspiciously. And why is Alicent all of a sudden sticking her neck out for Cole? Could he have told her? It's a bit suspicious, she's keeping her mouth shut.

Laenor? He's heartbroken! He loved Joffrey! They were about to have the perfect setup, and then Cole ruined it. But... his dad is glaring at him with his, "you better not fuck this up face," and he's always been a bit spineless when it comes to standing up to old pops. And he knows Joffrey must have said something to Cole to set him off, which means Cole probably knows. If he accuses Cole, will dad back him up? He doesn't have any leverage on his own, he's just the heir, not the actual Lord of the Tides.

And Corlys? Corlys wants to slip Cole a purse as a thankyou. He was so worried that his son was going to flaunt his lover at court and cause a scandal. He was already having nightmares about the whispering people would do, especially if Rhaenyra failed to produce an heir. He doesn't know why Cole killed Joffrey, but he can hazard a guess. He's glad Alicent wants to sweep the whole thing under the rug. Rhaenys feels bad for her son, but she agrees with Corlys. And really, it was foolish to bring Joffrey to this event. What was Laenor thinking?

And finally, Viserys? Alicent told him she wanted to spare Cole, and clearly there's something more to the story, but he's not really all that interested in digging into it. He feels sorry for the family, so when Alicent asks if she can send them a purse for the funeral expenses, he agrees. He's heard rumors about Laenor's preferences, and and he certainly doesn't want this to be a big deal. Is Laenor going to make it a big deal? Cole was Rhaenyra's sworn sword too. Fishy. In fact, better move up the wedding so that this incident doesn't blow up into something bigger to derail the match. He needs this match to go through. Also, we all know that cops can get away with killing people for much less reason, and that's in our world with a supposedly impartial third party justice system. Westeros doesn't have that. There's no DA, no state to bring charges, no independent trial by jury. If you want justice, you have to seek it and no one is seeking justice for poor Joffrey.

And for people who say that this needed to be spelled out? What do you want, exactly, a scene in which Corlys looks into the camera and goes, "sure glad my kid's lover is dead and not around to fuel the gossip." Lord. Just use context clues. Alicent covered it up and no one followed up because Joffrey was a nobody from the Stormlands, Laenor was gay, and Cole knew all their secrets. It was in everyone's interest to sweep it under the rug, and so they did. You can prefer the book version, but this is not a plothole, it's not something that needs to be explained, it's FINE.