#king maegor

[hisfavegirl]

Obsession's Edge - Maegor Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary : He was a man of war, a conqueror forged in battle and bloodshed. But tonight, as he stood before you, his eyes held something else—something more dangerous than rage. Expectation. You knew what he meant. Your fate had been decided long before this moment. You were to be the last. The final wife. The one who would give him what he desired most. A son. A legacy.

Word Count : 8k

Maegor Targaryen Masterlist.

House Of The Dragon Masterlist.

and also big thanks to @zaldritzosrose for let me using yours beautiful dividers 🫶🏻.

The scene unfolds in the dimly lit halls of the Red Keep, where tension clings to the air like a heavy shroud. You stand at the edge of the grand chamber, your hands clasped tightly in front of you as your eyes rest on the imposing figure of your brother, Maegor. His towering frame radiates power, and the infamous Blackfyre sword in his hand glints ominously in the flickering torchlight.

Once again, Maegor’s guards carry the lifeless body of his latest wife, his fifth attempt at securing a son and heir. The sight is as grim as it is familiar. The bloodstains on her pale dress speak of another failed birth, another sacrifice in Maegor’s unrelenting quest for a legacy.

Your stomach churns as you glance at your mother, Visenya, who stands by the hearth. She holds Maegor’s infant daughter—another girl—in her arms. Her face is a mask of cold indifference, her piercing gaze fixed on her son. The child wails softly, but Visenya pays her no mind, cradling the babe as if she were holding a mere object, not flesh and blood.

You take a hesitant step forward. “Brother,” you begin, your voice steady but cautious. “How much longer will this… madness continue? The gods—”

“The gods have cursed me!” Maegor growls, his voice echoing through the chamber. His knuckles whiten as he grips Blackfyre tighter. “They deny me a son, but I will not be denied. I am the blood of the dragon. I will have an heir.”

“And how many more must die for you to prove that?” you ask softly, though your words are like daggers. Your heart aches at the scene before you, but you know better than to openly defy him. Maegor’s wrath is as legendary as his strength.

His dark eyes meet yours, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something— frustration, desperation. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by the familiar coldness. “You speak of things you do not understand,” he snaps, his tone brooking no argument.

Visenya finally breaks her silence. “Enough,” she says, her voice calm but commanding. “This is not the time to quarrel. There is work to be done.”

You glance at your mother, noting the faint lines of weariness on her face. Even Visenya Targaryen, the indomitable matriarch, cannot entirely mask the strain of watching her son spiral further into darkness.

Maegor steps closer to you, his imposing presence casting a long shadow over your smaller frame. “Do not speak to me of curses or consequences,” he hisses. “You do not bear the weight of a throne, sister. You do not understand the price of power.”

Your throat tightens, but you hold your ground. “And you do not understand the price of the lives you destroy,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, silence stretches between you. The tension is palpable, the air thick with unspoken words. Then, without another word, Maegor turns on his heel and storms out of the chamber, the echo of his boots fading into the distance.

Visenya approaches you, the infant still cradled in her arms. Her expression softens slightly as she looks at you. “Do not provoke him,” she says quietly. “It will do no good.”

“And neither will enabling him,” you counter, though your tone lacks the fire of before.

She sighs, a rare sign of weariness. “We are Targaryens. We endure. We survive. That is what matters.”

As she walks away, the child’s cries growing fainter, you’re left alone in the chamber. The weight of your family’s legacy presses down on you, and you can’t help but wonder: How many more will suffer before the madness ends?

The corridors of the Red Keep were eerily silent as you made your way back to your chambers. The events of the night weighed heavily on your mind. You tried to banish the thoughts of your mother and Maegor, of the infant girl whose cries still echoed faintly in your ears. You didn’t want to think about what would become of the child—or what decisions your family might make under the cover of darkness.

Entering your chamber, you let out a soft sigh and closed the heavy wooden door behind you, shutting out the world beyond. The flickering light of the fireplace cast long shadows across the room, offering a small semblance of warmth in the cold, unforgiving keep.

You approached the dressing table and began to undo the clasps of your gown. Your hands moved mechanically, your mind still racing with questions you dared not voice. Was it truly the gods who cursed your brother, or was this all a punishment of his own making?

The silk of your gown slipped from your shoulders and pooled around your feet. You exchanged it for a simpler nightgown, one that offered comfort over extravagance. The soft fabric brushed against your skin as you pulled it over your head, and for a moment, you felt a sense of relief, however fleeting.

But before you could settle in, a quiet sound behind you made you freeze—a faint shuffling, as if someone was in the room. Your heart quickened, and you turned sharply, eyes scanning the dimly lit space. Then, you saw it: the hidden door in the far corner of your chamber, one you hadn’t even known existed until recently, creaked open.

From the shadows emerged Maegor, his imposing figure casting a long shadow on the stone floor. He stepped into the room with a purposeful stride, his expression unreadable, though his eyes were intense. He had shed his armor, but Blackfyre was still strapped to his side, a constant reminder of who he was.

“Brother,” you said cautiously, your voice low. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he closed the hidden door behind him, the soft click echoing in the quiet room. His gaze swept over you, taking in your disheveled appearance and the soft fabric of your nightgown.

“You shouldn’t leave yourself so unguarded,” he said finally, his tone matter-of-fact but carrying an edge.

You frowned. “I am in my own chambers. Do you expect an assassin to crawl out of the shadows?”

“In this keep?” he said with a dry chuckle. “You’d be a fool to think yourself safe, even here.”

His words sent a chill down your spine, but you tried not to show it. “Why are you here, Maegor? Did you come to discuss safety, or is there something else on your mind?”

He moved closer, his heavy boots barely making a sound against the stone floor. “Do you think me a monster?” he asked abruptly, his voice low but sharp.

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated, searching for the right words. “I think…” you began slowly, “that you’ve done monstrous things. But I also think the weight of the crown has hardened you more than it should.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked away, as if considering your words. Then he turned back to you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“I do what must be done,” he said firmly, though there was a flicker of something—doubt, perhaps—in his voice. “Do you think I enjoy this? Do you think I take pleasure in burying wife after wife, child after child?”

“I don’t know what you feel,” you admitted softly. “You don’t let anyone see that part of you.”

He stepped closer, his presence almost suffocating. “And what would it change if they did? Would it bring me a son? Would it silence the whispers of weakness?”

“No,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze. “But it might remind people that you’re still human. That you still bleed like the rest of us.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he studied you for a long moment. Then, without warning, he reached out and cupped your face in his hand. The gesture was almost tender, a stark contrast to the coldness you had come to associate with him.

“You’re different,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You see me, not just the crown. Not just the king.”

“Because I’m your sister,” you said quietly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “And because I know there’s still something good in you, no matter how deeply you’ve buried it.”

For a moment, it looked as though he might say something more. But instead, he released you and stepped back, the moment of vulnerability passing as quickly as it had come.

“Get some rest,” he said, his tone colder now, though there was a hint of softness beneath it. “Tomorrow will bring more battles, as it always does.”

You took a deep breath and turned toward Maegor before he could step back into the hidden passage.

“Stay,” you said softly, your voice breaking the silence.

He turned to look at you, his sharp features shadowed in the dim candlelight. “It’s late,” he replied curtly, his tone clipped. “You should rest. So should I.”

“I’m asking you to stay with me,” you said, stepping closer. Your voice was steady, though your heart was racing. “You’re my brother, Maegor. I don’t mind your company, and you need the rest just as much as I do.”

He hesitated, his piercing eyes narrowing slightly. “I am not in the habit of seeking comfort,” he said gruffly, though the way his hand lingered on the hilt of Blackfyre betrayed some inner conflict.

“You don’t have to seek it,” you replied gently, moving closer until you stood directly in front of him. “I’m offering it to you.”

For a long moment, he said nothing. The air between you was tense, and you could see the walls he kept around himself, the ones he refused to let anyone breach. But then, with a reluctant sigh, he nodded.

“Fine,” he muttered, as though he was doing you a favor. “But don’t think this will become a habit.”

You gave him a small, reassuring smile. “Of course not.”

As he stood there, unmoving, you reached for the heavy belt that secured Blackfyre at his hip. Your fingers brushed against his as you began to unfasten it, and for a moment, his hand lingered before he let you take over. Carefully, you slid the belt free and placed it on the small table near your bed.

“You don’t always have to carry it, you know,” you said, glancing back at him as you gestured to Blackfyre.

He let out a low, humorless chuckle. “I do,” he replied simply. “It’s who I am.”

“You’re more than that sword, Maegor,” you said, your tone soft but firm. “Even if you don’t believe it.”

You paused, your breath hitching as Maegor’s words hung in the air.

“Perhaps the reason my wives have failed me,” he said, his voice low and almost thoughtful, “is because they are not of the blood of the dragon. But you…”

He let the statement linger, and you turned your head to look at him. His piercing gaze met yours, unflinching, filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Maegor,” you said quietly, your voice trembling slightly. “You can’t mean that.”

“Why not?” he replied, his tone unwavering. He leaned closer, his hand sliding to your arm and pulling you gently into his embrace. “You are of the blood of Old Valyria, born to the same fire and blood that flows through my veins. If anyone could give me a son—a true heir—it would be you.”

Your mind raced, his words sinking in. You had always known that your mother, had plans for you—plans tied to your brother’s throne. She had often spoken of uniting the bloodlines to strengthen House Targaryen. But hearing Maegor speak of it so plainly, so deliberately, made your chest tighten.

“That’s why Mother promised me to you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

He nodded, his hand moving to gently cradle the side of your face. “She sees what I see,” he said, his voice softer now. “The strength in you. The fire.”

You tried to look away, but he held you there, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Do you think I want this, Maegor?” you asked, your tone laced with a mixture of uncertainty and defiance.

“I think,” he began, his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke, “that it is not about what we want, but what we must do—for the house, for the throne, and for the bloodline.”

You shivered as his words sank in, and though you wanted to push him away, his warmth was oddly comforting. He tightened his hold on you, his strength both intimidating and reassuring.

“You could give me what no one else has,” he whispered against your ear, his voice sending a chill down your spine. “A son. An heir. You could ensure the strength of our house for generations to come.”

“Maegor…” you started, but your words faltered as his hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer.

“Think about it,” he said, his tone still calm but laced with something darker, something possessive. “It is your destiny. You were meant for me.”

You felt your resolve waver, torn between the weight of his words and the emotions swirling within you. You had grown up knowing your place in the family, knowing what was expected of you. But this… this was more than you had ever anticipated.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted, your voice breaking slightly.

“You can,” he said firmly, his lips brushing against your forehead. “And you will. Together, we will be unstoppable.”

For a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his embrace, your mind a storm of doubt and confusion. Whether it was fate or folly, you couldn’t yet say. But in that moment, as his arms tightened around you and his whispers filled the silence, it felt as though you had no choice at all.

You stood frozen as Maegor’s words hung in the air, the mention of your mother, making your chest tighten. You did respect her—more than anyone. She was the guiding force of your life, her word as close to law as the Seven themselves. Refusing her was unthinkable. Maegor knew this, and the faint smirk on his face revealed he was fully aware of how deeply her influence bound you.

Maegor stepped closer, his fingers tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You will not refuse me,” he murmured, though there was no real question in his voice. “You would not dare defy mother’s wishes.” he murmured, his voice low and confident.

You glanced at him, lips parting as if to protest, but no words came out. He was right. You could already hear your mother’s voice in your head, her arguments laid out plainly, reminding you of duty and legacy.

Maegor stepped closer, his imposing frame towering over you. “You’ve always followed her commands,” he continued, his voice softening but losing none of its authority. “You’ve never failed her before. And this? This is what she wants.”

Your silence made him chuckle—a rare, low sound that startled you. He was so often stoic, cold even, but now there was something different in him. Something almost… warm.

He raised a hand, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You think too much,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Just let it happen.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours. It was not the demanding kiss you might have expected from him—it was slow, careful, and deliberate, as if he had been waiting for this moment for years. His hands cupped your face, holding you gently but firmly, ensuring you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to.

You froze, unsure of what to do. But as the kiss deepened, you felt yourself melting into it despite the swirl of thoughts in your mind. The warmth of his lips, the way his touch seemed to steady your trembling form—it was disarming.

When he finally pulled back, his violet eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of rejection. But you remained silent, your breath uneven, your cheeks flushed.

“You see,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against your jawline. “It feels… right. Doesn’t it?”

You swallowed hard, unable to deny the strange pull you felt toward him. He had always been a part of your life, a figure of strength and dominance. And now, as he stood before you, so certain and unyielding, it was as if the world itself had conspired to place you in his arms.

“What if I’m not enough?” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. “What if I fail you, too?”

His expression softened, his hands moving to your shoulders. “You won’t,” he said firmly. “You are of the blood of the dragon. My equal. My match. Together, we’ll do what no one else has.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine as his words sank in. There was no escaping this—no denying what your mother had already decided for you, what Maegor had clearly longed for.

As he leaned in again, his lips brushing against yours in a way that made your knees weak, you realized that this was no longer just about duty or tradition. This was about Maegor’s unwavering belief in you, his determination to claim you as his own. And for the first time, you wondered if perhaps you didn’t mind being claimed.

Maegor’s hands gripped your waist as he effortlessly lifted you, settling you onto his lap as if you weighed nothing. The strength in his touch was undeniable, and yet there was something careful about the way he held you, as though you were the most precious thing he’d ever claimed.

Your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in the thick, silver strands of his hair. He pulled you closer, his lips pressing firmly against yours, deepening the kiss with an intensity that left you breathless. His confidence was overwhelming, but it was also intoxicating, pulling you further into his orbit.

You hesitated for only a moment before giving in, letting yourself lean into the kiss. When your lips finally began to move against his, Maegor let out a low hum of approval. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies.

He pulled back just enough to breathe, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, his voice low and laced with amusement. “There she is,” he murmured, his smirk unmistakable. “I knew you wouldn’t resist me for long.”

Your breath hitched at his words, the weight of them sinking into your chest. He leaned in again, his lips ghosting over your jawline, trailing down to the curve of your neck. You gasped as his teeth grazed your skin, his tongue quickly soothing the spot he’d bitten.

“Maegor…” you whispered, unsure whether it was meant as a plea or a protest.

He chuckled against your neck, his hands roaming over the curve of your hips. “Say my name again,” he commanded softly, his tone sending shivers down your spine.

You hesitated, but when he nipped at your skin again, a quiet, breathless “Maegor” escaped your lips. He growled in approval, his grip on you tightening as he kissed his way back to your lips.

“You’re mine,” he said against your mouth, his tone firm and unyielding. “Do you understand that?”

You nodded, your mind spinning as his words and actions consumed you. His hands moved back to your waist, holding you steady as he pressed you closer to him.

“You’re the only one who can give me what I want,” he continued, his lips brushing against yours with every word. “A son. A true heir. And I’ll make sure of it.”

His words should have frightened you, but instead, they filled you with a strange sense of purpose—a feeling that you belonged here, with him. When his lips met yours again, you found yourself kissing him back with a fervor that matched his own, your hands tightening in his hair as the room around you seemed to fade away.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “You’ll see. This is where you were always meant to be—by my side, as my queen.”

And for the first time, you didn’t feel the urge to argue. Instead, you leaned into him, letting his words wash over you as you surrendered to the fire that burned between you.

Maegor’s hands were rough as they slid up your back, pulling your nightgown up and over your head in one swift motion. The cool air of the room brushed against your skin, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his touch. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, his lips curling into a smirk before he leaned in to claim your lips once more.

This time, his kiss was hungrier, more demanding, as if he was staking his claim all over again. You responded with equal fervor, your fingers threading through his hair and pulling lightly, earning a low growl from deep in his chest.

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured against your lips, his voice laced with warning and amusement.

You smirked in return, rolling your hips slightly against his lap. The way his body reacted to you—his sharp intake of breath, the way his grip on your hips tightened—only emboldened you further. “Maybe I like the flames,” you whispered, your tone teasing as you brushed your lips against his again.

His laughter was low and dangerous, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Careful,” he said, his voice a soft growl. “You keep pushing me, and I won’t be able to hold back.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to,” you replied, your tone filled with challenge.

That was all the permission he needed. With a swift motion, he shifted, pinning you beneath him on the bed. His hands framed your face as he kissed you deeply, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he said as he pulled back slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. “But don’t think I’ll stop once I start. You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

You gasped as his lips found your neck, trailing heated kisses along your skin. His hands explored your body with a mixture of gentleness and possession, leaving no doubt in your mind that he meant every word he said.

“Maegor…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you arched beneath him.

Hearing his name from your lips only seemed to spur him on. His lips curled into a smirk against your skin as he moved lower, his hands sliding to grip your hips. “Say it again,” he commanded softly, his voice filled with raw desire.

“Maegor,” you repeated, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He growled in satisfaction, his grip tightening as he began to guide your movements against him. The fire in his eyes was unmistakable as he watched your every reaction, his own control slipping with every passing moment.

“You wanted this,” he said, his tone low and dangerous as he leaned closer. “And now you’re going to take everything I give you.”

And as his words sank in, you realized there was no going back—not that you wanted to. You surrendered to him completely, letting him pull you deeper into the flames as the night stretched on.

Maegor’s eyes burned with intensity as he discarded his trousers, his movements deliberate and unhurried. You couldn’t help but smirk, shifting your hips slightly to tease him. The way his jaw tightened and his nostrils flared only encouraged you further, knowing you were testing the limits of his control.

“You think this is a game?” he asked, his voice low and rough as he stepped closer.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Why, brother, I have no idea what you mean.”

He growled, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’ll regret that,” he said, his tone a dangerous promise.

Before you could respond, his hands were on your hips, pulling you toward him with a force that made you gasp. In one swift, decisive motion, he buried himself within you, tearing a cry from your lips as pain and pleasure collided.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you struggled to adjust. “Maegor!” you cried out, your voice trembling.

He laughed softly, the sound dark and laced with satisfaction. “Does it hurt, little dragon?” he murmured, brushing his lips against your ear. “Good. You’ll remember this moment every time you think you can defy me.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as your body stretched to accommodate him, the sensation overwhelming and unfamiliar. “You’re… you’re too much,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He grab your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’ll take all of me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You were made for this—for me.”

You whimpered as he began to move, each thrust sending a new wave of sensation through your body. The initial pain began to fade, replaced by a heat that spread through your veins like wildfire.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice filled with both admiration and possession. “So beautiful, even when you’re trembling beneath me.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but you couldn’t deny the way they made your heart race. Despite his roughness, there was a strange sense of care in the way he touched you, as though he was staking his claim but also ensuring you wouldn’t break beneath him.

As the rhythm of his movements increased, your cries turned into soft moans, your body slowly surrendering to the intensity of the moment. “Maegor…” you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with need.

He smirked, leaning down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss. “That’s it,” he murmured against your mouth. “Say my name again.”

“Maegor,” you repeated, your voice louder this time, filled with both pain and pleasure.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he thrust deeper. “You’ll learn to love this,” he said, his tone both commanding and soothing. “And soon, you’ll crave it as much as I do.”

You could only nod, your body and mind completely consumed by him. In that moment, there was nothing else—just the two of you, bound together in a way that felt both terrifying and inevitable.

Maegor’s heavy, calloused hands pinned your wrists above your head, his grip firm but not painful. His towering form loomed over you, his silver hair falling into his face as he gazed down at you with a mixture of triumph and hunger. You had always been the one to tease, the one to provoke—but now, under him, you were at his mercy.

“You’ve always been so bold,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. “Always looking for my attention, always testing me.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words turned into a gasp as his hips moved, a sharp thrust that left you breathless. Your body arched instinctively, pressing closer to him as he continued his relentless pace.

“Look at you now,” he said, his tone laced with dark amusement. “So quiet. Has the little dragon finally met her match?”

Your cheeks burned at his teasing, but you couldn’t form a coherent reply. Every movement, every thrust, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making it impossible to think clearly.

“Maegor…” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling.

He smirked, leaning down until his face was just inches from yours. “Say it louder,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

“Maegor,” you repeated, your voice cracking as he drove deeper, his movements precise and unyielding.

“That’s better,” he said, his smirk widening. “You look beautiful like this, you know. Completely mine.”

You tried to squirm beneath him, your body desperate for some sort of release, but his strength kept you firmly in place. His hands tightened around your wrists as he held them above your head, his grip a reminder of just how powerless you were in his grasp.

“You’ve always thought you were in control,” he continued, his voice low and dangerous. “But here, like this, you belong to me.”

His words sent a thrill through you, even as you tried to deny the effect they had on you. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any real conviction.

Maegor chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “And yet, you can’t get enough of me.”

Before you could respond, he shifted his weight slightly, angling his hips in a way that had you crying out his name again. The sound only seemed to spur him on, his movements becoming rougher, more deliberate.

“You drive me mad,” he admitted, his voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths. “But I’ll make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

His free hand trailed down your side, his fingers brushing over your skin in a way that made you shiver. “Every inch of you,” he said, his voice filled with a dark promise. “Every sound you make, every breath you take—it’s all mine.”

You couldn’t argue with him, not when your body was betraying you so completely. Instead, you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations, letting Maegor claim you in every way he desired. And as his laughter echoed in your ears, you knew there would be no going back.

Maegor’s relentless pace left your mind spinning, every sharp thrust erasing any coherent thought from your head. The world around you blurred, and all that remained was the man above you—his weight, his heat, and the overwhelming power of his movements.

“Maegor…” you whimpered, your voice breaking as you clung to him, your nails digging into his broad shoulders.

“Say it louder,” he demanded, his tone a deep growl as his piercing gaze locked onto yours. His face was a mix of smug satisfaction and raw intensity, his silver hair damp with sweat as it clung to his forehead.

You cried out his name again, louder this time, unable to stop yourself as he buried himself deeper, the force of his thrusts stealing the breath from your lungs. Maegor grinned, his lips curling into a dark smirk as he watched you unravel beneath him.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice thick with pride and something darker. “Completely at my mercy. Does it drive you mad, little dragon? Knowing that no one else could ever ruin you like this?”

Your only response was a strangled moan as your body arched into his, seeking more of him despite the overwhelming intensity. Maegor leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he growled, “You’re mine, now and always. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and surrender.

“That’s right,” he purred, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His hands gripped your waist tightly, holding you in place as he drove into you with even more force, drawing another scream from your lips.

“You feel so perfect,” he said, his tone softening just slightly, though the fire in his eyes never dimmed. “Like you were made for me. Tell me, little dragon—do you feel it too? That you were meant to be mine?”

You nodded frantically, unable to find the words as waves of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling in his arms. Maegor chuckled darkly at your helplessness, his grip tightening on your hips as he pushed you closer to the edge.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck. “Lost in me, lost to me.”

As you cried out again, your body clinging to his in desperation, Maegor groaned, the sound low and primal as he felt your walls tighten around him. His pace faltered for just a moment before he drove into you one last time, his head falling to your shoulder as he growled your name.

The room was filled with the sounds of your labored breathing as the two of you came down from the heights of your passion. Maegor didn’t pull away immediately, instead leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, his touch surprisingly tender after the intensity of his movements.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, his voice soft but firm, as if sealing a promise. Maegor smirked, his confidence returning as he gazed down at you. “I’ve made my claim on you, little dragon. Don’t ever forget that.”

As you lay in his arms, your body still trembling from his touch, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of inevitability. You were his now, completely and utterly, and there was no going back.

Maegor’s strong hands gripped your waist tightly, holding you in place as he lifted you with ease and settled you on his lap. You gasped, your hands bracing against his broad shoulders for support, but before you could utter a word, his deep, commanding voice interrupted.

“If I am to have a son, little dragon,” he growled, his violet eyes dark and blazing with determination, “then I will not stop now.”

Your lips parted to protest, but the words never left your mouth. In one swift motion, Maegor thrust himself upward, pulling your hips down to meet him. The intensity of the movement made your head fall back as a loud cry escaped your lips. The sensation of him so deep, so overwhelming, was too much for your trembling body to process.

“Maegor!” you screamed, clutching onto his shoulders for dear life as he began to move, his pace relentless and unyielding.

“You can take it,” he said, his tone almost mocking, though there was an edge of possessiveness in his voice that sent shivers through you. “You were made for this—made for me.”

Your breathing came in short, desperate gasps as he guided your movements, his hands firmly holding your waist as he controlled the rhythm. The combination of his strength and the sheer intensity of his movements left you unable to do anything but follow his lead.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding. When you didn’t respond, too lost in the sensation, he reached up and tilted your chin toward him, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I said, look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his piercing violet stare. The raw hunger in his expression made your heart race even faster.

“There you are,” he murmured, his tone softening ever so slightly. “I want to see that pretty face of yours when I give you what we both know you want.”

You whimpered in response, your hands gripping his shoulders even tighter as he pulled you down onto him again, deeper than before. The new angle sent shockwaves through your body, and you couldn’t stop the loud moan that escaped your lips.

“To much?” he asked, his smirk returning as he studied your reaction. “Or is it exactly what you need?”

“Maegor…” you whispered, your voice trembling as you struggled to catch your breath.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice a low rumble as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear. “Say my name, little dragon. Say it so the gods themselves hear you.”

You obeyed, crying out his name over and over as he continued to guide your movements, his strength and determination leaving you completely at his mercy. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve as if claiming you all over again.

“You’re perfect,” he growled, his lips trailing down your neck. “Perfect for me. Perfect to bear my sons.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t hold back the way your body responded to him. Maegor chuckled darkly, clearly pleased by the effect he had on you.

As he quickened his pace, his movements became even more demanding, pushing you closer to the edge. Your cries grew louder, filling the room as he drove you higher and higher.

“Give it to me,” he commanded, his voice thick with need. “Give me everything.”

And with one final, powerful thrust, you shattered in his arms, your body trembling uncontrollably as waves of pleasure washed over you. Maegor followed shortly after, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself as deep as he could, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips.

As the two of you came down from the intensity of the moment, Maegor’s hold on you remained firm, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath.

“You’ll give me a son,” he murmured, his tone resolute. It wasn’t a question—it was a statement, one he believed with every fiber of his being.

You nodded weakly, still trembling in his arms as you leaned against his chest, too overwhelmed to respond with words. Maegor smirked, pressing a kiss to your temple as he tightened his embrace.

“This is only the beginning,” he promised, his voice filled with dark determination.

Maegor didn’t give you a moment to recover. His strength was overwhelming as he lifted you effortlessly, his hands gripping your thighs firmly, and carried you to the sturdy table in the center of the room. Before you could fully register what was happening, he placed you down with precision, positioning you exactly how he wanted.

“Did you think I was done with you, little dragon?” he asked, his voice a low, teasing growl.

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a sharp gasp as he buried himself inside you again in one swift, forceful motion. Your hands instinctively reached out, grasping the edges of the table for support as he set a punishing pace, his movements quick and unrelenting.

“Maegor!” you cried out, your voice echoing in the chamber, but your pleas only seemed to spur him on.

“Louder,” he demanded, his tone thick with authority. “Let everyone in the Keep know who you belong to.”

You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he leaned over you, his large frame completely dominating yours. The table creaked beneath the force of his movements, but you didn’t care. Your body burned, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, and yet you didn’t want him to stop.

Suddenly, Maegor’s hands gripped your waist, lifting you slightly before pushing you to lie flat against the table. Your gaze shifted, and that’s when you saw it—the large mirror across the room, perfectly angled to reflect the two of you.

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson as you took in the sight. Your disheveled hair, your trembling body, and Maegor’s powerful figure towering over you, his muscles flexing with every movement. His face was a mixture of focus and satisfaction, his violet eyes locking with yours in the mirror.

“Look at us,” he said, his voice rough yet filled with pride. “See what we are.”

You whimpered, overwhelmed by the rawness of the moment. Your arms reached out, wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer, hiding your face in his shoulder to escape the intensity of your own reflection.

“Oh no, little dragon,” he murmured, chuckling darkly as he lifted your chin with one hand, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. “Don’t look away. Watch how perfectly you take me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t stop the way your body reacted, arching into him as he continued his relentless pace. His free hand traveled to your hip, gripping it tightly as he adjusted the angle, drawing out even louder cries from you.

“Maegor, please…” you whispered, though you weren’t sure what you were begging for.

“Please what?” he asked, his tone mocking yet filled with hunger. “Tell me what you want.”

“I-I can’t,” you stammered, your voice trembling as he pushed you further and further toward your limit.

“You can,” he countered, his lips brushing against your ear. “You will.”

Your body trembled beneath him, your mind clouded with nothing but him—his touch, his voice, his presence. The sight of the two of you in the mirror only added to the overwhelming sensation, and you felt yourself nearing the edge once again.

“Say it,” Maegor demanded, his voice a low growl as he drove you closer and closer to the brink.

“I’m yours,” you finally gasped, your voice breaking as the words spilled from your lips. “I’m yours, Maegor.”

A triumphant smirk spread across his face as he slammed into you one final time, sending you spiraling over the edge. Your cries filled the room, your body shaking uncontrollably as you clung to him, your nails digging into his skin.

Maegor followed moments later, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself as deep as possible, a guttural groan escaping his lips. His forehead pressed against yours as he caught his breath, his hands gently stroking your sides as you lay sprawled on the table beneath him.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “Always.”

You nodded weakly, your body too exhausted to respond with words. Maegor smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“And I’m not done with you yet,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye as he lifted you once more, carrying you back toward the bed.

Maegor showed no mercy as he pressed your trembling body into the mattress, his large hands gripping your hips tightly while his movements remained unrelenting. You were sprawled out beneath him, barely able to catch your breath as he continued his punishing pace.

"Maegor… please…" you whispered weakly, your voice muffled by the soft fabric of the bedding.

"Please, what?" he asked with a mocking laugh, his tone dark and teasing as he leaned over you. His weight pressed you further into the bed, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you want me to stop?"

You knew he didn’t expect a reply—he already knew the answer. The smirk on his face widened as he felt you unconsciously arch your back, your body betraying you as it sought more of him despite the overwhelming sensations.

"That's what I thought," he growled, one hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer, making his thrusts even deeper. "You’re mine, little dragon. You’ll take everything I give you."

You could only whimper in response, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as your mind spiraled into a haze of pleasure and exhaustion. Every inch of your body felt consumed by him—by his strength, his dominance, and the sheer heat of his touch.

When you tried to lift your head, Maegor’s hand came to rest on the back of it, guiding you to stay down. "No, stay just like this," he ordered, his voice softer now but still firm. "You look perfect beneath me."

"Maegor…" you whispered again, your voice breaking as you tried to form coherent words.

"Say it," he demanded, his tone sharp yet filled with desire. "Say you're mine."

"I’m yours," you gasped, the words tumbling out without hesitation.

His deep chuckle rumbled through the room, and he rewarded your surrender with a sharp thrust that made you cry out his name. "That’s right," he murmured, his voice filled with pride. "You’ll never belong to anyone else."

Despite your exhaustion, you couldn’t help but shiver at the possessiveness in his tone. He leaned down further, his lips brushing against the back of your neck as his pace quickened once again.

"Look at you," Maegor muttered, his voice filled with admiration as his hands slid over your trembling form. "So beautiful. So perfect. You were made for me, weren’t you?"

You couldn’t respond—your voice was lost to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. All you could do was grip the sheets tighter, your body giving in completely to his relentless claim.

When he finally reached his peak, his grip on your hips tightened, and he buried himself as deeply as possible to make sure that he's seed go deep in you, a guttural groan escaping his lips. The sheer intensity of the moment left you breathless, your body trembling as he collapsed beside you, his arm draped possessively over your waist.

"You’ll never escape me, little dragon," he murmured, his voice soft but laced with a promise. "Not now. Not ever."

You closed your eyes, your heart racing as you felt the warmth of his presence beside you. Despite everything, you couldn’t deny the way your body craved his touch, the way his words seemed to root themselves deep within your soul.

Maegor shifted his weight, rolling your trembling body to face him. His piercing gaze roamed over you—your flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, and quivering form. A smirk spread across his lips, a dark chuckle rumbling deep in his chest.

"Look at you," he said, his voice filled with both amusement and satisfaction. "Utterly spent, yet still so beautiful."

You tried to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you met his gaze. "Maegor…" you whispered, your voice barely audible, a mix of exhaustion and disbelief.

He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours with surprising tenderness. "You’re perfect like this," he murmured, his hand trailing down your side, sending shivers through your already sensitive body. "Made for me. And only me."

Just as you thought he would let you rest, he pulled back slightly, his smirk fading as his sharp eyes traveled lower. His expression darkened when he saw the evidence of his release dripping from your swollen cunt. A low growl escaped his throat, filled with frustration and possessiveness.

"No," he muttered, almost to himself. "I won’t have that."

Before you could process his words, he pressed you down firmly against the bed, his hands gripping your thighs to spread you open. You gasped, weakly reaching for him, but he didn’t give you a moment to protest.

"Maegor, wait—"

He didn’t. With a deliberate, forceful motion, he pushed his fingers inside you, his touch firm yet calculated. You cried out softly, your body jerking at the sudden intrusion.

"Be still," he ordered, his voice low but commanding. "I won’t have what’s mine dripping away so easily."

Your head fell back against the pillows, your body arching instinctively as he worked with a steady rhythm, pushing his release back into you. The sensation was overwhelming, sending a mix of pleasure and overstimulation coursing through your nerves.

"Maegor, I can’t…" you whimpered, your voice trailing off into a broken sob.

He leaned closer, his face hovering just above yours as his free hand cupped your cheek. "You can," he whispered, his tone surprisingly gentle despite the fire burning in his eyes. "And you will. You’ll take all of me, no matter how many times it takes."

Your breath hitched as his movements became slower, more deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours. "You’ll give me a son," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. "I’ll make sure of it."

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Maegor leaned in to kiss it away, his lips lingering on your skin. "Don’t cry, little dragon," he said softly, his voice almost tender. "This is what you were meant for. To carry my blood. To give me what no other could."

His words, though harsh, carried an undeniable weight. You felt the heat of his possessiveness searing into your very being, leaving you no room to escape his claim.

When he finally pulled back, satisfied, he gathered your trembling form into his arms, holding you close. His hand rested protectively over your stomach, and he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"You’ll see," he said quietly, his voice carrying an edge of certainty. "You’ll give me the legacy I deserve. And you’ll be the queen by my side when I do."

Exhausted and overwhelmed, you could only nod weakly, the gravity of his words settling deep within you as sleep began to overtake your tired body.

Tag List : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @callsignwidow @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry

[luv-lock]

⸻ ᴀ ʟ ᴡ ᴀ ʏ ꜱ ᴍ ɪ ɴ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: Dark Maegor I Targaryen x Fem Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is this?”

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

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

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

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

He still loved her.

Even like this.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, right. He had cut her tongue out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His.

Always his.

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

[cherryclitgirl]

The Gods III

Pairing: Maegor x reader

Notes: Mentions of child birth, child loss, murder, and brief use of y/n.

Before: She was just ten and five when she gave birth to Aegon. She was afraid of the thought of giving birth to a monstrosity . they way Alys did. Maegor would’ve not hesitated to kill her if she did . But was she was more afraid of was giving birth. She had never seen anything remotely close to it. Let alone experienced it.

She looked to her side to see her mother standing by the wall. Visenya had allowed her to be in the room, but not near her. Nonetheless her mother made sure to keep her eyes on her daughter.

She laid on the birthing bed gripping the sheets below. Her face covered with her damp silver hair. Sweat and tears mixing together into an unpleasant salty mixture. Her legs dripped with blood and sweat. She felt her entire body shudder into a throbbing pain. Her insides opening to push out a human, a human she had carried for months. Women died giving birth, mayhaps dying was better than facing Maegor. She felt something moving making it difficult to push. She bit the bottom of her lower lip letting out a loud groan. The tears from her eyes had dried out, the only thing stinging her eyes was sweat. The words of encouragement from the midwife did not help her, all she wanted was her mother. She stopped after a few pushes panting from exhaustion. Everything was blurry, the voices of those around her were incoherent. Her body was weak and filled with pain. Their voices began to drift away as she gritted her teeth tightly. How she managed to keep going was a mystery of its own. She heard his small cries. Still unable to see, she tried to speak but her words came out in mumbles.

“A boy!” Was all she heard around her. Everyone spoke at once with excitement, relieved that a healthy boy had been born. Whilst everyone was distracted by the new born babe Alyssa left the wall rushing to her daughter.

“You did well my dear” she softly brushing y/n’s hair off her face. She quickly looked for a rag to wipe her daughter’s sweat off. “So well” she chuckled sadly, tears swelling in her eyes. Her daughter smiled weakly ,the labor was yet to be done but it was clear that her daughter was exhausted. “Mother” y/n spoke quietly reaching for Alyssa’s hand. “My darling ” Alyssa soothed her gently cleaning the sweat of her daughter.

Alyssa looked up to see Visenya holding a small bundle wrapped in a cloth. She quickly stood up allowing her daughter to see her son. The maids helped her daughter sit up, placing pillow in her back to support her and provide comfort. “A healthy boy” Visenya said carefully placing her grandson on her arms. The boy had been carefully cleaned, his eyes wide awake staring into his mother’s with curiosity. She smiled down at her babe, her vision becoming less blurry. Holding him felt strange, her dizziness confusing her, almost forgotting that the small bundle was hers. Her own flesh and blood. For a moment she just stared and realization slowly crept in. She placed a small kiss on his head that made the babe flutter his eyes “Aegon” she spoke softly.

Everyone around her nodded with agreement, named after his grandsire they thought. They were far from wrong, she named him after her older brother. The only one aware of that was Alyssa, everyone saw a young girl holding her babe but Alyssa saw a child holding a child.

Her return to kings landing happened shortly after giving birth. She was in no condition to travel, however Maegor demanded to see his child. Visenya personally accompanied y/n back to the Red keep, making sure her and the babe were taken care of.

Aegon was fully awake, cooing softly as he nibbled on his small hand. His mother looked down at him and smile, her heart fluttering with happiness. He was the most precious thing she ever saw. “My darling boy” she whispered holding him close.

When she stepped out of the wheelhouse Maegor was not waiting for her but Ceryse. Ceryse wary expression made y/n uncomfortable. When Ceryse walked closer to the girl and her new born son, her heart clenched with jealousy and sadness. “He’s beautiful ” Ceryse’s lip twitch into a sad smile, she fought back tears her throat tightening and itching. She held Aegon in her arms, The boy was healthy, a pure Targaryen. Silver hair and purple eyes. The child was not hers. It was in her faith to crave always something that was given to another.

“Thank you, your grace” y/n said as she watched how Ceryse looked at Aegon. Her finger carefully caressing his small delicate face. “He awaits for you in the great hall” she said slowly tearing her gaze away from the boy. “You should rest, y/n, I shall take him” Ceryse said her grip on the small bundle slightly tightened.

“The mother of the child will take him” Visenya declared behind y/n. She was no fool, she would not allow Ceryse to present her grandson to Maegor. There was a brief silence between the three women before Ceryse slowly handed Aegon back to his mother.

The throne room was packed and eerie silent, not a single noble dared to make a sound. Every noble in the Red keep stood waiting for the arrival of the new born prince. Their eyes fixed on Maegor as his tall regal figure sat on the large iron throne. He wore his crown with pride, and bore an unreadable expression,Black fyre tightly clutched on his hand. He fixed his eyes on the door waiting and listing.

The doors slowly opened to reveal queen y/n holding a small babe wrapped in a black and red blanket with an embroidered dragon. Dowager queen Visenya stood proudly behind her guarding her with a smile on her face. Everyone in the hall turned their attention to the young queen, their eyes scanning her and fixed strongly on what was in her arms.

She slowly walked into throne room. Her steps measured and quiet, her heels clicking on the stone. She felt the stares of the court on her, lords of major houses had been summoned at once to pled their fidelity to the new born heir.

Maegor slowly rose from his seat, his tall figure over looking the crowded hall. His expression impassive as his young wife stopped at the bottom of the iron throne. He crept down to where she was, with a small curtsy she handed him his son. “Aegon Targaryen, your grace” she told him softly. Maegor hummed softly and took his son into his arms. The babe look unusually small in his arms. He moved the blanket away from Aegon’s face, his large thumb moving slightly over the wisps of hair. The true embodiment of a Valyrian. “Aegon” he repeated looking at his son “A name fit for a king” he declared loudly, the hall soon erupted into claps and voices filled with happiness and excitement.

Ceryse stood alone in the arched corridors, away from the crowd watching Maegor parade his son with pride. She felt Tyanna’s presence behind her sending an uncomfortable feeling down her neck. “Do keep trying Lady Ceryse” Tyanna maliciously whispered “Sooner or later your barren womb will produce an heir” she mocked.

Ceryse stiffen and glanced to her side “If you allow it ” she whispered to Tyanna. A mischievous smile appeared on her face as she looked at Ceryse’s dress “I let this one live, didn’t I” she said gently touching Ceryse’s dress “Though, it was more of your doing.” The green l fabric felt delicate under her finger tips. “Caring for the girl is admirable” she continued, Ceryse’s eye fell on Tyanna’s fingers. “So is leaving Maegor’s chamber early in the morrow” she snickered.

“It is my duty as his wife. ” Ceryse hissed quietly looking away from Tyanna. “His true wife”

“The beacon on the Hightower… it glows green when Oldtown calls it’s banners to war” Tyanna smirked her finger tips leaving the green dress.

Ceryse remained quiet silently seething with frustration. She had worn the green dress out of spite, she disliked the color green,she disliked war. An impulsive decision she regretted. Unfortunately for her it would a war she would fight alone as it was clear, Maegor had gotten what he longed for. An heir. : End

Y/n held her precious babe in her arms, softly humming to him as her finger traced his small nose. He was growing fast, it was clear he would be strong like his father “You will be king one day” she told her son “but for now…you’re all mine” she smile kissing her son’s head.His small finger wrapping around hers tightly. He nibbled on it slightly cooing as he looked up, his beautiful purple eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Every time she kissed his cheek Aegon would laugh. Giggles that brought a smile to her face. The laughter would soon fade and replace itself with the sounds of her son’s muffled cries, filling her ears with dread. as her dream began to change her precious babe slowly faded away from her arms, a cruel reminder that he had been taken from her.

She hated the dream, it was the same recurring dream, that would soon turn into a nightmare. Every night and every day. She sat up on her bed wiping away the tears that formed in her sleep. She glanced at her daughter who slept peacefully, her darling girl. Her only daughter. She looked at Rheanor who slept on his bed clutching his toy dragon. He was two summers old yet bore a resemblance to Baelon. She had been allowed to named her four children She named Rhaenor and Rhaella after her sister Rhaena. She named Baelon after her husband’s dragon, although her first choice was to name him after her younger brother Viserys. Nonetheless Maegor did not protest, but did raise an eyebrow at the names of his two young children.

Even after the death of Aegon she kept her children close. Perhaps even closer than before. The paranoia she once felt still lingered, specially in the night. Guards were to now stand outside her door at all times. She had very few maids and no ladies in waiting except for Kiara. She had replaced the maids with only a few that were recommended Maester Benifer. Kiara being the main one of all of them. There was an unspoken agreement between the two, where ever she went ;Kiara followed.

- - - - - - - - -

She was the last to enter the small council meeting, unlike Tyanna who was always the first. Maegor was at the very head of the table, the hand of the king Lord Edwell Celtigar sat on his right . Her seat had been moved, from sitting next to lord Daemon Valeryon to sitting next to Maegor himself. “Where is Baelon” Maegor asked her when she sat down next to him. She watched as the new cup barrer began to fill their wine. Her stomach twisted as she looked at the young boy, picturing her poor brother Viserys. “The Library “ she replied looking back at him.

“Why?” Maegor questioned as he took a sip of his wine. “Because I send him there” she replied placing her hand over her cup, it was too early for wine. Maegor paused his drinking, the attention of the small council now focused on the two of them. Maegor had strictly instructed for Baelon to attend the small council meetings since he was named heir. A demand y/n found ridiculous since the boy was barely four.

“Fetch for the boy” Maegor ordered the cup barrer. As the cup barrer was about to put the flagon down the young queen spoke. “Stay” she opposed firmly. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room until Maegor spoke “I will not be defied!“ he snapped at his wife.

She bit the inside of her cheek fighting the urge to snap back “Neither will I” she said calmly. “If you wish for him to king then he must learn Valyrian” she added not tearing her eyes from him.

Maegor scoffed knowing his wife was right and waved his cup at the young squire “Fetch for more wine then”.

The small council members relaxed seeing the tension between the king and queen wash away. The first to speak was Queen Tyanna who served as mistress of whispers “Your grace, you will be pleased to know that Alyssa Velaryon has been taken refuge under Lord Rogar Baratheon “ she said eyeing Daemon.

The rest of the council turned to Daemon, y/n among them. He was her uncle, yet to her he felt more of stranger. Having only spoken few times, she wondered how he would reply. He was loyal to crown and she had been cautious enough to avoid asking him about her mother.

Maegor’s sharp gaze was on Daemon waiting for him to speak. It was clear that his pride had been hurt after hearing his sister’s whereabouts. He could not risk standing with his sister, it would put his house at risk.

“I was unaware of this your grace” Daemon clarified “I had send word to Driftmark, if a Raven from Alyssa arrived, I would be let known”

Tyanna scoffed taking a sip of her wine “Only a fool would expect a raven”. Daemon swallowed his pride but was tempted to reply to Tyanna’s comment.

“What about Princess Rhaena?” Maegor asked Tyanna. A smile appeared on her face as she looked at the queen. Y/n’s hand clenched under the table at the mention of the her sister. The look on Tyanna made her nails dig into her palm. Her attention was entirely on Tyanna. It had been years since she had last seen her sister. In the nights she would stand by window, silently pleading her sister to come back. “She has taken residence in Volantis” Tyanna smirked

“Mayhaps she has taken work in a pleasure garden as well ” The maester of coin Lord Alton Butterwell snickered. His comment provoked a laughter among the rest of the men in the small council. Only Ser Olyver Bracken the new appointment Lord commander of the kings guards kept a stale expression. Having served the royal family for many years, he had see the princess’s Rhaena and y/n in their early years. He found the comment to be humorless and insulting to both the Queen and her sister. The first thing most men thought of when they heard Volantis, was its famous pleasure houses. Lord Alton was among the men that paid large amounts of gold to sleep with the most famous whores. He was the type of men to fill his mouth with finest foods and the most expensive wines. He will never know the hardships of women and their need for survival. The insinuation that her sister had taken work as a whore made her blood boil. She knew her sister would never do such thing. Yet, the mere thought of her picturing her sister in a city filled men that prayed on young girls and women infuriated her.

Queen Y/n said nothing, she only stared at Lord Alton who indulged his wine whilst he laughed. Her nails digging into her palm so tightly it had began to bleed. His fat cheeks blushed from the laughter, his large chain around his neck suffocating his fat neck. He was disgusting. Her thoughts were filled with a desirable urge to see his face be smashed into the glass orb. One swift movement she thought. Only one movement it would take for him to stop laughing.

She had the absolute power to see it happen. Ser Olyver would follow her order, the guards would come into the room and drag Lord Alton way. She was unsure about Maegor’s reaction, would he be angry she took order and abused her position? Did Maegor wish for her to show the same cruelty as him?. In her years as one of the queens she never once commanded or ordered anyone. It was Tyanna and Ceryse that used that power. Had she not wasted her youthful years giving birth to children. Mayhaps she would’ve learned to be decent queen. A good queen. It was her fault she thought. That they had forgotten to fear her. She was the queen, her name added more importance to the tittle than anything else . She was a Targaryen, her sister was a Targaryen. To insult a Targaryen princess was an act of treason. So long as she is the queen, treason shall never go unpunished.

“Ser Olyver” She spoke as the laughter was dying down. Ser Olyver’s attention turned to her at once . “Bring me his head” she commanded.

The command took Ser Olyver by surprise, the once cheerful room fell into a deep silence. The faces of the members became appalled and confused. The command was unexpected, as they had never heard her utter such cruel words. After a long awkward silence Maegor spoke waving his hand for the cup barer “You heard your queen” he said as he drank his wine “She wants his head”. Without another word Maegor rose from his seat and with cup in hand he left the small council room.

Tyanna smirked at the girl before she too left the room. It was clear the meeting had been cut short, one by one the rest of the lords left the room. By the time every one had left it was just Lord Alton and Queen y/n and a few white cloaks.

“Your Grace” Lord Alton pleaded as he rose from his seat. He was quickly pushed back down by Ser Olyver “I-it was never my intention to insult you in any way-“ his voice trembling as he watched her walk to the flagon of wine. “It was merely a joke “ he excused , his fat face releasing a large amount of sweat. His eyes darting to the king’s guards and back to the queen. She held the flagon and walked to where he was. She ignored his pleading.The once prideful fat man was now at her mercy. She stood behind him and slowly dumped the entire thing on his head. He gasped as he drowned in the berry taste of grapes. The same way he drowned in his cups.

“Joke?” She said placing the flagon on the table “a mere joke?” She repeated her fingers drumming on the table.

“My apologies, M-my deepest apologies your grace” he begged. His expensive lavish clothes soaked , unleashing a strong smoky smell of a well aged wine.

“Call for Lord Tymond Lannister “ she told Ser Olyver. “He will be the new master of coin”. She left the room leaving the guards to deal with a screaming pig. Her first demand had been as cruel as her husband. The court would remember and so would be the people. The queen’s first action was to punish a man for insulting her sister. Some would call it unfair and cruel, others would say it was well deserved.

One thing was clear, the brothels in the street of silk had lost a value costumer. But the women working them had one less man to worry about. A woman was a woman, no matter her position.

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

The following days all the court could talk about was the incident in the small council. The story had changed in various ways. Some said that Lord Alton had insulted the queen . Other’s said the queens first command was a reaction to her madness after the death of her first born. But the version many clanged to was that queen y/n had gone mad in the hands of Maegor. Causing her to take such drastic measures. After years in his capacity she had developed the same habits as him. Some even went as far to say that had the queen been allowed to ride her dragon Skyfyre she would’ve already fled with her children.

The sad truth of it all, was the princess missed her Dragon dearly. She would stand by the window holding Rhaella in her arms while she watched her dragon. It was clear Skyfyre missed her rider deeply. She grew restless and would be seen soaring above the Redkeep. Maegor had forbidden her from riding her dragon. He didn’t trust her and even when did began to trust her, something told him that allowing her to ride her dragon would allow her to run away.

But for the first time Queen y/n did not feel trapped. She had a few friends and little to no allies at court. However she paid no attention it. She was never a pleaser of the court. Those she needed to befriend were distributed in the seven kingdoms. She had a close bond with House Lannister and House Redwyne. Even exchanged letters with the Lady of Winterfell Lysa Stark.

She had Rhaella in her arms while Rhaenor played with his wooden soldiers. Baelon sat quietly scribbling on a piece of Parchment. There were rare moments where the queen could be away from Maegor. His attention had solely focused on his oldest sons. There were a few occasions where he could stop in the room to see his two youngest. But he never step foot in the room.

Before: Maegor had cared for things, a something some considered rare. Among those things was his son, whom he adored. There was not a day that Aegon was not in his arms. Constantly showing him off at court, it was clear Maegor was proud of his boy. He insisted on bringing Aegon to the small council meetings.In his arms slept Aegon whilst the lords discussed the politics of the realm. Although it was clear Maegor’s attention was never focused on the meetings. Some nights Maegor crept into the room where Aegon and his mother slept, stealing his son away he would make his way to Balerion. He often sat on Balerion’s saddle simply holding his son. His cruel heart warming up every time he saw his son’s purple eyes. Aegon was loved, oh so loved

Maegor had been completely attached to Aegon. He had been vulnerable and let his guard down. He would not repeat the same mistake again. But one something was different. He came into the room unannounced. Taking in the view his eyes landed on his eldest son. Queen y/n did not bother to look up as she thought it would be like his other visits. Before she knew it Maegor had walked to where she was, his voice low and serious he asked “Might I?”. The question took her by surprise , he never held his sons, let alone his daughter. “Of course” she replied gently placing Rhaella in his arms. He carefully held his daughter, his big arms gently holding her. She was a quiet child, a peaceful child. He adjusted her small dress. She had her mother’s soft purple eyes. It was clear she would be the very image of queen y/n.

She nuzzled her small head into his chest while his hand caressed her back. Maegor knew his children were by loved by their mother. He admired her for it, she loved their children the way his mother loved him. He stayed like that for a while, the room’s atmosphere had shifted. Baelon played with his brother. His mother sitting near by. Maegor held his daughter in his arms whilst he watched his sons play. She was unsure why he had a change of heart. Why he had chosen this particular day. A passer by would’ve assumed they had a close bond. A father who loved his children and wife , spending the noon together as a family.

Sometimes our eyes deceive us. We see things that aren’t there. Simple illusions our brains create. But to Queen Tyanna the image was clear. It was real and well made. She stood outside the door watching king Maegor and y/n spend the evening with their children. They were completely unaware of her cloud lurking outside the threshold. She watched closely as the cruel king held his daughter. Her eyes had seen plenty of the queen, should the king know his young wife was getting rid of potential babes. He would never hold his daughter again.

- - - - - - - - - - -

“Queen Ceryse has requested to see you, your grace” Kiara bowed her head to her queen. The hour was quite late and the y/n was busy getting her children to bed. She looked up from Rheanor confused “Now?” She asked Kiara.

Kiara nodded “Yes your grace”. Y/n planted a kiss on Rhaenor and left his side. Ceryse’s call had been completely unexpected, she was already in her sleeping gown. If Ceryse had asked for her then it was urgent. Their relationship was nothing but civil. They weren’t bonded like sisters but being the oldest Ceryse did provide her with protection from Tyanna. Although their relationship had been strained over the past year, she held no grudges for her. She did not blame Ceryse nor Tyanna. But at times she did wonder if Ceryse had told truth. Had Ceryse purposely left her door unattended? She would never know.

Still the young princess instructed Kiara to remain with the children until she returned. Two guards stood outside her door their attention ever so vigilant. As she began to walk away one of the guards left his post, she looked back bewildered “The hour is late hour grace” the white cloak told her. “We are to keep you and the children safe” the other guard added.

She had completely forgotten about the rule Maegor had placed. “Of course” she nodded. The white cloak followed her keeping his distance but still close enough to protect her. The castle was silent and empty. It’s darks long halls illuminated by the torches on the wall. The shining moon above illuminated some parts of the now finished castle. Ironically if queen y/n had gone to her left she would’ve taken the same route she took the night her son was murdered.

The only who seemed to noticed was the white cloak who looked back before he continued his steps. He had heard the tale many times. Each version more twisted than the last. He tried to picture the young girl carrying two babes in her arms while she made sure her other son was safe. But to him the situation was too unsettling to picture it. As a believer of the faith he was among the many that felt pity for the girl.

She stopped outside Ceryse’s door “It won’t take long” she told the white cloak. She entered the room to see Ceryse sat on her bed. Her back against the bed frame. Her hand resting on her stomach. Her long blonde hair down to her shoulders. There no candles lit, the only light being the moonlight that shone through the window.

Ceryse smile slightly when she saw y/n “Sickness does put one in it’s weakest state” she joked. Y/n smiled a bit before she took a seat on the bed “It’s better than childbirth” she joked back

Ceryse chuckled and took her hand “Some of us would rather take that pain”. Y/n place her hand on overs here’s as well. Her gaze moved to the an opened window. The air tangling itself with the curtains. “Were you standing ?” She asked looking back at Ceryse.

Ceryse sighed a small smile forming on her face “I stood to watch Skyfyre” she told y/n “it seems she’s restless and misses you”.

Y/n looked back at the window, it was clear she missed her dragon as well but she said nothing. “I was told what you did in the small council “ Ceryse smirked at girl.

Y/n looked back at Ceryse “It was necessary “ she said. There was a brief silence between the two of them. Ceryse looked at the girl, her youthfulness had not been tampered with. Her silver hair and purple eyes sparkled in the dim moonlight. Her eternal beauty was a reminder that Targaryens were closer to gods than men. She did not blame Maegor for marrying her, any man with a cock could only dream about marrying a Targaryen princess. Her words stuck a cord on Ceryse, she had never heard the young girl say such words. She was the youngest and most gentle out the three. At least that was what she believed.

“Do not let Maegor corrupt you, you are a good person. I believe your heart is pure and the love you hold for your children will serve as a shield” Ceryse whispered gently. Y/n kept quiet, even in her death bed Ceryse still saw her a naive weak minded girl.

“I wasted my years I was filled with hatred and jealousy” Ceryse voice was sincere and filled with regret. “I resented you..for being unaware of the feelings I heartily hid”. After all years of pretending Ceryse finally revealed her feelings towards the girl. “We reconciled in old town” she said. “I forgave him, I accepted Alys and promised to make the effort with Tyanna” Ceryse’s words were soft .It was clear she fought tears as she spoke “On the third day of the feast…. He rose up and held his cup…. the doors opened “ she spat with sadness “There you stood, a Targaryen princess barely ten and five”. Ceryse paused and wiped off her tears. She scoffed quietly and spoke again “He took as your wife in front of me…. And I hated you “ she said her words filled with sorrow and anger . “A child” she said letting out a humorless laugh “A child had taken my husband” her breathing hitched and angry tears swelled up in her eyes. “You fell pregnant faster than expect, I could’ve let you stay. Allowed Tyanna to get rid of the child” she confessed “But what used would’ve that done”.

“I tried getting pregnant, lots of times….it was useless” Ceryse swallowed “But you became pregnant without complications. Locked away squishing child after child. I resented you more and more ”.

“I prayed for the Stranger to take you. For death to wrap it’s s arms around you. So I could raise your children as my own…I believed I was owed that”

The curtains blew in the windows tangling themselves together as the air gushed in the room. “How grand it must have been.. to a mother”

“I prayed for the gods to hurt you” she confessed. “So they took Aegon” Her gaze finally met hers, Ceryse’s eyes were filled with remorse and tears. “Forgive me” she begged “p-please” her voice cracking and her tears cascading

Y/n face was blanked and pensive “I knew….” She said her voice soft . “ I always knew” she told Ceryse. Unlike Ceryse, she had not tears in her eyes.

“You knew?” Ceryse repeated her tone betraying her shock. She spend years secretly hating a child. A child who always knew and did not care.

“I didn’t want to be his queen “ Y/n said “I wanted to go home”. She knew Ceryse hated her, but she did not expect for her to hate so much. To wish death upon her. Ceryse wanted y/n’s children, she wanted y/n gone.

“He took our home, and he took my brother’s throne ….…he killed Aegon beneath the Gods eye and he called that mercy.” Y/n said. Ceryse was aware of the cruelty y/n had endured in the hands of Maegor. Someone the girl was still sane, at least in her eyes.

“I did not love him…I hated him…” Queen y/n spoke distantly. “Many times I wished to jump from one the towers. I could’ve done it..it would been fast.. a quick death in the hands of Maegor”

“But I had my children…they saved me” she said rising from Ceryse’s side.

“I love none but my children “ she said “On that font a mother has no choice “ her voice strangely low. She stood by Ceryse’s night stand where a flask of milk of the poppy rested. Ceryse had been taken it to sooth her illness that slowly ate her away. A sudden illness Maester Benifer had no cure for.

“For Aegon” she said coldly as she dropped the flask onto the cold stone floor. The liquid flowing away into the dirty cracks. Ceryse could only watch as the only thing that kept her alive was taken from her. The Queen had not forgiven her, in fact had she not confessed mayhaps she wouldn’t have blamed her for the death of her son.

Queen y/n left the Ceryse’s chamber without another word. She closed the door behind her knowing Ceryse would be dead come the morrow. Her cold body to be found by the maids. But tonight no one would come to aid her, no one would save Ceryse the way no one saved y/n.

A mother’s wrath is stronger than the wrath of the gods. For there was a debt to be paid, and only death could pay it.

[ashblooddragons]

Just As Bad As You Are

Request made by @athzhowakar

Summary: When a worderful lay with your husband leads to you giving him good news, but what if he pieces together your dark secret, the only thing you would ever keep from your dear older brother.

Word count: 1377

Warnings: smut, p in v, slight choking, mentions of miscarriges, mentions of poisioning, toxic relationship, Targcest, tell me if I missed anything

I moan as Maegor fucks me from behind, there isn’t a night he doesn’t take me. For why should he go to his others when they can’t give him children and I’ve already given him three?

“Maegor.” I moan out as he grabs my hair making me arch my back.

“I’m gonna put another babe in that belly of yours, you’ve been empty of my seed for too long.” he groans out as he grinds his hips just right, that he makes me see stars. 

I can’t help but laugh, for ever since the Maesters said I was fit for childbearing again there hasn’t been a morning or night that his seed wasn’t working its way inside me. “Do you truly think with how often you take me that I am not with child yet?” I say before another moan leaves my throat when his palm lands on my rear. 

“Every time I think I fuck that brat out of you, then it rears its head begging to be taught a lesson.” He says before pulling out and flipping me so I lay on my back only to slam back into me with more force and vigor than before. 

“What, no snarky remark, no comment on how I love when you’re a brat? He teases as he takes my right leg and puts over his shoulder so we both feel him go deeper. 

I can’t even speak, I just grip the hair on the back of his neck as he ruts into me. I know if any maid, courtier, or gods forbid one of his other fucking wives, walked by they would only hear the sound of skin hitting his and obscene moans. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” I beg as I feel my peak just along the horizon. 

“Go on, cum on my cock you little slut.” He demands as he reaches up to grip my throat choking me until he feels my cunt spasm around his cock as I milk him for all he’s worth.

“Fuck.” He groans out as his seed fills me before he lays against my chest.

We lay there as we both come down from our highs. Me rubbing his back tracing all his scars like constellations, and him kissing my neck and moving his hands up and down my thighs adn ribs. 

It’s these moments I feel the safest, not when I have two guards following me, or when I stand next to my darling golden Gaelithox. No, I feel the safest when I’m in the arms of the man I love, and who loves me.

“I wasn’t being a brat, the Maesters told me last night I’m with child again.” I whisper before playfully biting his ear.

His look is priceless when he leans back looking down at me as he uses his arms to hold himself up. “Do not jest.” He says with that tone that makes even men tremble, but not me.

I take his shocked state as a chance to take control and flip us so I’m on top. “I do not jest, my moon blood is two moons late.” I say as I pin his arms next to his head. We both know if he wanted to he could easily get out of my grip, but we also both know he doesn’t want to.

With those words I climb off his lap and take my robe and wrap it around me as I go to tell the guard that I am in need of a bath. As I wait I decide to brush my hair before my bath as it doesn’t need washed but it most definitely needs brushed after our escapades. 

I notice Maegor is lost in thought but assume it must be because of a council meeting, he pulls on his breaches as my Maids come in with hot water for my bath. I sigh in relief as I sink into the heat of the bath waving my Maids away. “Leave me.” 

I start to scrub my arms with pomegranate seeds not noticing Maegor taking a stool and sitting behind me. 

“You’ve never lost a babe.” His gruff voice fills my ears startling me as I turn to look up at him.

“No I haven’t?” I look at him confused, fighting the fear that fills my belly that he has figured it out. 

He only moves to take some pomegranate and my other arm starting to scrub the coarse seeds into my skin. I watch as his jaw tenses and releases and I know he knows when his eyes look into mine. 

“And yet all of my other wives have.” He says his eyes boring into mine but I will not show fear, I don’t regret what I did. “I thought Tyanna, though I suspect I was right with her. But there were many lost, too many she couldn’t have known about that left their mothers wombs too soon. My Council said you must have something to do with it, I didn’t want to believe them, but now I wonder if I should have.” He says gripping my arm to the point tears come to my eyes but I refuse to let them fall.

 “Do you want me to admit something? Perhaps make the accusation.” I hiss out as I grit my teeth. 

I watch as his nostrils flare in rage, I know he doesn’t want to accuse me, I’m his sweet little sister, but he also knows I won’t admit anything if he doesn’t accuse me first. 

“Did you force them to miscarry? Did you poison my other wives?” He demands with a scowl.

“Yes.” 

I watch as his face morphes into shock and rage. I know he must have been praying I would no, that I would deny these allegations until my last breath, but I won’t for I don’t regret what I did.

“Why?” He asks in a calm voice that I know is hiding a inferno of rage.

“Your my brother, we came from the same womb, and yet I had to share you with a barren Hightower, a whore from across the seas, and three more courtly whores. You didn’t even wed me properly, you took me at the same time as you did those two other bitches looking for any needy hound. I knew what I had to do, Mother didn’t teach me those dark ways for nothing, she knew just as I do now. That you are weak, you will take any lady or whore to your bed and call her wife, that all a man has to do is have his pretty daughter suck your cock and then he is a man to be jealous of. But I am not some Lady of court, nor am I a whore, I am a dragon and a dragon must find another of their kind or else their embers will cease to burn. So I poisoned your stupid little wives, and I made sure Tyanna didn’t touch my womb for I would be the only one to bear your children. I don’t regret it, I never would, but now you have decision to make.” I say breathless after I let all the darkness I had kept hidden from him for so long out of my heart and into the air so only us and the gods to hear and judge.

He only stares at me, tears brimming his eyes before he looks down, shaking his head. “And what decision is that?” He asks force breaking from sheer shock.

“Will you execute me, charge me for my crimes? Or will you keep this a secret that we take our graves letting no man judge me, only the gods.” I say reaching over the tub to take his hands in mine. 

I smile when I feel his hands squeeze mine and he looks back up at me and says. “Now what kind of older brother would I be to have my little sister hanged for something so trivial?” 

He then leans forward and kisses me fiercely picking me up as I wrap my legs around his waste. 

“I knew you would never betray me.” I say as he kisses down my stomach towards my core as he begins another round.

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner @athzhowakar @themoonlitquill @thelastemzy

[helaenarts]

“His reign began with blood and ended in blood as well”

King Maegor I Targaryen

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Death's Servant

vampire!maegor x fem!servant!reader

Summary: You are Maegor's personal servant who sees to most, if not all of his needs regardless of what he requires. 

Warnings: 18+ it’s maegor, blood, death(not mc), violence, a hint of humiliation, oral(m+f), p in v, period sex, overstim

Authors Note: this is a lot and self indulgent also ig i’m in some vampire mood so i’m sure i’ll write another soon 🤷🏼‍♀️ why would i write for one of the million ongoing mini series i have when i could write another random one shot 🤔

Word Count: 3k

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ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

There has been a large number of servants going missing from around the Keep and people are beginning to whisper. I have the privilege, or horror, of knowing what becomes of these people. It is known Maegor is a cruel man and King and rumors of him drinking the blood of his enemies aren’t too far off. In honesty, I’m the one who pours it into his chalice for him. 

Word around the castle is that Maegor had just returned from Dragonstone. It’s been said that he seems angry and upset and I start to make my way up to his chambers. As I reach the top of the steps I stop in my tracks. I hear a sudden scream and then it’s cut short. I push open Maegor's chamber doors with a sigh before I seal them behind me. 

“You’d be smart to knock next time.” his mouth is against my neck the second I step foot into his solar. 

“You must keep your meals quiet.” I hum walking past him looking at the poor male servant leaning over the edge of the tub. “What are you doing?” I tilt my head watching the man’s neck wound gush into his bath water. 

“Preparing a bath.” his breath fans across my neck. 

“Usually I do that for you.” I turn and look up at him. 

“I wanted to try something new.” he looks to the tub behind me.

“You may need more than just him.” I walk over to the steaming water and sigh at the mess. “What am I to fill your chalice with, my King?” I turn and find him towering behind me. 

“Go fetch me another.” he smirks and I sigh brushing past him. “Quickly.” he’s at the doors pushing them open for me. 

I close my eyes and exhale as the doors snap shut behind me. I question my sanity and self preservation everyday but I can’t bring myself to leave the Keep and out of his thrall. Wherever I go he’d be able to find me. Maegor is a paranoid man, if I were to leave he’d rip the realm apart just to kill me rather than have me and my knowledge go on. There’s not many who know of what he is besides his mother. 

I push these thoughts from my mind as I enter the servants quarters. Everyday they look at me as if I’m a miracle for still breathing after catering to Maegor. I start to collect some oils and soaps and approach two of the older men who make some of the other servant girls uncomfortable. I don’t necessarily like picking people to bring up to Maegor, it makes me feel like The Stranger made flesh. When he makes me find him his meals I try to pick people that most won’t miss. 

“Could you both help me bring some more hot water up, please?” their eyes travel up my body before they stand. They agree and I tell them to bring the buckets to the Kings chambers. I make my way back up the stairs and slip into Maegor's chambers. 

“This is not blood.” he pulls the basket from my hand. 

“No, it’s not.” I hum taking the basket back and he chuckles lowly. “It’s on its way up. Along with more bath water. So contain yourself until they finish their job.” I bring the oils and soaps to the tub. 

“It amazes me you never cease to keep an attitude with me.” his tongue darts across my pulse and my body stills. “Do you not fear death?” his hand wraps up my front and engulfs my chin and cheek turning it to the side. 

“Am I not death's servant bringing you your meals?” I hum letting my eyes shut. “Though, I think you should start sourcing your meals outside of the Keep.” his movements stop and he turns me to face him. 

“Why?” he looks at me curiously. 

“Because you won’t have any servants left if you keep draining them all.” I shake my head at the obvious fact. 

“I’ll still have you.” his low words stir something inside of me. 

“Will you not kill me too, my King?” I look up at him. 

“I plan to keep you with me forever.” he pulls me closer. “As long as you never betray me.” he searches my eyes. 

“I would never betray you Maegor.” I reach up cupping his face. 

“Your devotion is unmatched. I want-“ he cuts himself off as the male servants enter his chambers. He’s at the doors the next second, sealing the four of us inside. Once they step deeper into his chambers their feet stop as they take on the bathtub. “Go ahead and pour the water in.” Maegor looks at them with a feral smile. 

Water starts to slosh out the sides of the buckets as the servants approach the tub with quaking hands. The body is still draped over the tub as his neck is still slowly leaking. They dump the water in and turn with pale faces. Maegor steps forward and one of them drops their bucket. He starts to apologize but Maegor is sinking his teeth into his neck before slamming him over the tub to fill the tub with more. The other servant stands there frozen in shock. 

“It’s better if you stay still.” I hum walking over to him. Maegor watches as I have the servant sit on the lip of the tub. I hold my hand out and Maegor places his dagger into my palm. I slice the servant's arm and he looks at me in horror as I let his blood flow into an awaiting chalice. 

“I want to watch you kill him.” Maegor purrs from above me. 

“At least let me pour you a couple more cups.” I hold up the now full chalice to him. He nods at me sipping from his cup. As he pulls it away from his now red mouth he offers me a pink smile. The servant has gone into a state of shock which helps me fill more for Maegor. After I’ve filled three I look up at Maegor who’s licking his lips. “How do you want me to kill him?” I blink up at him. 

“Quickly and over the tub. I wish to bathe before the water freezes.” I scoff at his words and rise. I look down at the man before me and let out a sigh. I lift the blade and swipe it across his neck. I flare my nostrils as his blood sprays across my neck and shove the dagger back into Maegor's hand. I go to reach for a cloth and he pulls me over to him. His tongue darts across my neck and I squeak. 

“Maegor,” I gasp, holding on to his arms. He slowly lets his tongue collect the droplets sliding down my chest. He starts to untie my dress and my nails dig into his skin. “I thought you didn’t want your bath to get cold.” my voice breathy. 

“You should thank your King for cleaning you up.” he rasps against my skin as I feel his teeth press against my skin. Not hard enough to break through but enough to have me clinging against him. 

“Thank you, my King.” I scold myself for how much I allow him to affect me. He places one last kiss against my pulse before stepping back. He turns me around and ties my dress back up. “Such a generous King.” my tone teasing and his hand lands hard on my backside. 

“I’m getting quite tired of your mouth today.” I turn my head and scowl at him. He twists me around before shoving me down to my knees. I look up to him nibbling my lip with a smile knowing this was bound to happen. I reach up and start to unlace his trousers and he chuckles cupping my cheek. “Look how eager you are.” his hand twists and he pushes his thumb into my mouth. I wrap my lips around his thumb and let my tongue slide against the pad. 

I free him from his trousers and he pulls his thumb out and shoves himself in my mouth. He holds onto my hair as he roughly thrusts into my mouth. I moan around him as spit leaks out the side of my lips. He groans, digging his fingers into my scalp as he pulls my hair moving me against him. I let him use me for his pleasure and I’m no stranger to his harsh and heated touch. He pulls out and slides his tip around my lips and my tongue chases after him. He shoves himself back into my mouth and begins to hit the back of my throat. Tears start to fall down my face and he quickens his pace. He pulls back out with a loud groan and starts to fist himself. 

“Open your mouth.” he growls and I do as I’m told and let my tongue push out of my mouth. The hand that’s buried in my hair starts to tighten and I whine and his pleasure starts to fall across my mouth and face. It mixes with my tears and spit and his grip on my hair starts to loosen. “Go get me more hot water.” he breathes heavily, leaning down and looking me in the eyes. “As you are. Let everyone in the Keep see how much of a whore you are for your King.” he tugs me up to my feet and hauls me to his doors. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

I hold my cloak tighter to me and I quickly walk down the steps. I knew Maegor was paranoid but having these tunnels built is a new extreme even for him. I hold the candle out in front of me offering me the smallest amount of light. I’ve requested torches to be lined across the walls if he wants me to keep bringing him his meals. He tells me over and over that he’ll hire more men yet here I am and the only light is surrounding my body. 

I make my way down another set of stairs and the air starts to get cooler. I pull the hood up as I approach the familiar iron gates and get the key out of my pocket. I’ve convinced Maegor to start dining upon the dungeons and the servants have been relieved at the lack of their friends going missing. I grab a man from the closest cell and unlock the door. I grab him by the chain connecting his hands and begin hauling him out and back up the stairs. I pull him through the entrance in Maegor's chambers and close it behind me. 

“I love the torches you've installed in the tunnels.” I push the prisoner over to him. 

“I said-“ he stops and looks at me with a smile. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he licks his lips while walking over to me. 

“I’ve told you time and time again to get me fucking torches Maegor.” I don’t care about the bite in my voice and he chuckles stalking closer. 

“Not the torches.” he pushes my hair off my shoulder. “That you’re having your moon blood.” he ghosts his lips over my pulse. 

“I haven’t had the chance.” I push his chest and nod over to the man I brought up to him. 

“I want you.” he starts to pull up my dress. 

“I just hauled him up here in those dark tunnels.” I try to push his hands off of my skirts. “You will have him first.” I purse my lips. 

“The way you speak to me is maddening.” his eyes darken. I roll my eyes at him pulling him over to the man who’s shaking at Maegor's presence. He quickly sinks his teeth into the man who struggles in his grip. Maegor drinks at him greedily before I hear the snap of bone. The man crumbles to the floors and Maegor turns to me wiping his mouth on his arm. “Get on the bed.” his eyes lock on mine. 

“Promise to get me torches before the end of the week.” I stand my ground looking up at him. 

“I don’t care about your fucking torches.” he says through his teeth starting to walk me backwards to the bed. 

“Then I don’t care about getting you food.” I hum raising my chin and he starts to laugh. “Or making your baths. Or serving you. Or anything.” his hand slides to the back of my head tilting it up to look in his eyes. 

“I will get you your torches by the end of the day tomorrow. Now get on the fucking bed.” he clenches his jaw. I slowly sink down onto the bed and he grabs my hips, lifting me and pushing me further up. He rips my dress off of me and I prop myself up and glare at him. He pushes my legs apart groaning at the blood glistening between them. “Next month I want you in my chambers the second this comes. I want to spend the whole week between your thighs.” he buries his head between my legs and I shutter as his tongue lashes against me. 

“Maegor, my King,” I whine, shaking against his face. His fingers dig into my hips as he shoves his tongue into my core. I gasp gripping his hair as his tongue lashes against my sensitive bud. He wraps his arm around to allow his fingers to swirl against my bud and he trails his tongue back down to my core. His fingers push me over the edge and I burst across his tongue and he pulls my hips flush against his mouth. 

His tongue slams into me and wrecked whimpers spill from my mouth. Maegor continues to lap against me while I shake above him. My fingers dig into his arm as his fingers circle my bud faster. I feel my pleasure build rapidly and my breathing is a mix of gasps and pants. A cry falls from my mouth as his tongue speeds up. I try to buck my hips into his face and he chuckles into me before he begins to slowly grind me against his tongue. 

“Maegor,” I whimper. He stills me again and lets his tongue flick against my bud. I fall apart and he slowly licks me through every wave of pleasure. He lifts up and looks at me and I flush at his red mouth and chin. He leans back and pulls his tunic off and pushes his trousers down. He lines himself up and pushes fully into me. “Gods my King.” my eyes roll to the back of my head as he starts to slam into me. My fingers start to claw at his arms and he plucks them off and holds my hands above my head. 

“You always take my cock so fucking good.” he grunts as I arch up into him. He licks across my neck and I whine feeling his teeth graze against my skin. He sucks against my pulse and I clench around him. His fingers dig into my wrists as he loses himself in me. With every thrust a moan is torn from me. I come undone around him and he lets out a low groan. “Just begging for me to fill you up.” his hips start to hammer into me and my legs wrap around him. 

“Please, my King,” my voice cracks. His lips crash to mine and I still give a surprised squeak at the metallic taste. His mouth is rough and unyielding as he pushes his tongue into my mouth. He releases my hands and they cling to his shoulders as he repeatedly snaps his hips into mine. His fingers swirl against my bud and I scream as pleasure slams through me. He fills me with  one last hard thrust pushing me up the bed. He pulls out of me quickly and I feel our pleasure leaking out. I watch him staring between my thighs and I go to close them and his hands hold onto them. “Maegor,” my voice broken as I watch him lower his face between my thighs again

“You’ll be fine. You should be thanking me.” he smiles before softly licking against my sensitive bud. He flicks his tongue against me and I toss my head back into the pillows. I fist the sheets while he holds my legs open showering me with pleasure. 

“Please,” a breathless plea falls from my lips followed by waves of pleasure slamming through me. His lips incase my bud and I bring my hands to his hair to try and pull him away. “I can’t-I,” his fingers push into my core and I shutter. His fingers curl and my breath catches as my stomach tightens. His fingers are joined by his tongue as he brings his other hand to my center to swirl my bud. My thighs slam around his face now that they're able and he continues as I cry above him. My high crashes through my body and my thighs tremble around his head. He slowly pulls my legs back open and spreads featherlight kisses across the inside of my thighs. “No more.” I plead, grabbing his arm. 

“For now we’re going to rest.” he kisses up my body before collapsing next to me. He pulls me against his chest and slowly trails his fingers up and down my spine. “You’ll stay with me.” he hums holding me closely and I nod my head against his chest allowing my eyes to droop. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

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[sins-of-the-dragons]

Maegor Targaryen x Reader

Your husband gave you a proud approving look as you pour more wine into the cup of the king. Maegor and your husband have been "friends" for many years, from winning wars together to sharing women. Maegor's visit is for political reasons but that doesn't mean him and your husband can't have fun.

Maegor was practically undressing you with his eyes. The feast means very little to him. The dancers making sensual moves meant nothing compared to you. Ever since Maegor arrived, your husband has been telling him about you and Maegor's lust growing every time he sees you.

The feast was not even over when your husband sent you to your room. Your husband knows Maegor too well and is sure how to take care of him. After all he is the king, and the king deserves the best.

A little while later your husband and the king also left the feast, laughing about their wars and kills. Maegor didn't question it when your husband took him to your room. Maegor's eyes immediately got dark with lust as soon aa he saw you.

There you were on the bed, wearing a see through beautiful dress, loose hair, flowers on the bed of silk. "my king" You softly moaned. Your husband walking over and kissing you deeply, touching you as he made you look at Maegor.

Maegor approached. He expected nothing less from the wife of his best friend. You looked at him with admiration and desperation as he put his hand around your neck, mildly chocking you before pulling you in for a kiss. "Don't be too gentle with her," your husband laughed. "She is made for us."

Maegor smirked as he ripped away your dress and then the two just pounced on you. Hands and lips all over your body. You gasped loudly when you felt both of their fingers in you. Marks have already started to form on your body

Maegor didn't waste much time before he positioned himself between your legs. "Beg your king to fuck you," Your husband said from behind as he continue to touch you.

"Please my king, please...please fuck me," You desperately begged. Maegor's eyes grew darker and you let out a loud moan when he entered you. Your moans were heard by everyone outside as he increased his pace.

Soon you find yourself between the two once again. This time your husband taking you from behind, whispering praising words in your ears. It was all proving to be too much but the pleasure was on another level, and what kind of wife and loyal subject would you be if you give up

Your husband kissed you as they both pulled out "my beautiful wife". The relief only lasted for a short while before they claimed you again.

Once they both had their fun they let you rest, cum still inside you. You feeling exhausted but completely satisfied.

Your husband and Maegor didn't even bother covering themselves as they sat on the chairs watching you sleep, with wine in their hands.

"The reason I am really here is because of the future of my house," Maegor explained. "My son (Maegor ii) will need a worthy wife by his side when he comes of age, and your wife just gave birth to a girl a few months ago" Your husband smirked when he realized what Maegor was proposing. He has heard about the young prince, he is just like his father Maegor. And future king. "Let's join our houses"

[athzhowakar]

Queen of Hidden Evils (Chapter I)

✒️ Maegor × Toxic OC wife

✒️ Summary: Maegor needs to find a new wife since his existing wives have failed to provide him an heir. He sends a proposal to a lesser lordly house of the Crownlands, asking the hand of the Lord's widowed sister. Maegor has heard very little about that woman but what really matters for him is the fact that, she has a ten year old daughter and hence, her fertility is proven.

✒️ Trigger warning: Mature content

✒️ Next part: Chapter II

The Red Keep :

“And whom do you suggest this time, Grand Maester?” King Maegor said reluctantly. He was getting quite tired of marrying again and again but he made sure no one knew that.

“Your Grace, if it pleases you, I would suggest Lady Lucinda Rosby,” Grand Maester Benifer replied.

Stroking his beard, Maegor said, “Lucinda Rosby? I have never heard much about her.”

“She is a woman of proven fertility, Your Grace,” Grand Maester Benifer said. “She has a ten years old daughter.”

“She is a widow, I suppose. Her husband was the elder brother of the current Lord Stokeworth, who died in a hunting accident,” Maegor said, trying to recall the events.

“Ser Bennard Stokeworth was a brave man, Your Grace. He was fond of riding horses and hunting. Unfortunately, that took his life just two years after his marriage. He left behind a three month old daughter and a grieving young wife. Her Ladyship was only eight and ten when she was widowed. She has been a widow ever since,” Grand Maester said.

Maegor looked at him and remarked, “A quite devoted woman or perhaps quite picky.”

“What are the orders for me, Your Grace? Shall I send a raven to Lord Rosby or perhaps a messenger?” Grand Maester asked.

“Send a messenger, Grand Maester. Ravens are comparatively less impressive. Who knows? That picky lady of the Rosbys might find that raven ugly and drive it away without reading the message,” Maegor said with a tone which certainly did not reveal whether he was being sarcastic or serious.

The Grand Maester paid his respects and left the king's chamber.

Maegor stood up a while later and arrived at Queen Rhaena's chamber.

“Beloved Niece!” Maegor exclaimed.

“Not at all beloved Uncle!” Rhaena responded back with an equally enthusiastic tone to mock him.

Maegor grabbed her waist as she tried to wriggle away. He whispered into her ears, “Don't you think that you are being too insolent, my dear wife?”

Rhaena mocked him by saying, “How do you expect me to talk to a kinslayer and usurper?”

“We could have been the most powerful king and queen the seven kingdoms have ever seen. You could have been a good wife to me and given me a son or a daughter or both. And yet, you choose to provoke me, mock me and dig your own grave,” Maegor said tightening his grip on her waist.

Rhaena replied, “I do not want any of that.”

“What do you want then?” Maegor almost screamed.

Rhaena said, “Nothing from you.”

Maegor let go of her. Rhaena took a deep breath and saw her uncle approaching her. She was scared as her uncle was unpredictable and crueler than anyone she had known.

“Do you think that you would have a better life without me?” Maegor asked. “You resent me for sending away your whores whom you call companions. But do you think that oaf of your brother would have allowed that? That fool tried to fight against me atop a dragon which wasn't even half the size of my dragon. You think that he could have kept you happier? You wish for me to die, don't you? You do not wish to give me a child. Isn't that why you have been secretly taking moon tea and poisoning your womb? I know everything. But I stayed silent because I love you and because you are my blood.”

“That is all a lie. You do not love me. You do not love anyone but yourself,” Rhaena said, spitefully.

Maegor replied angrily, “Foolish woman! Do you know what will happen to you if I die today? I made you the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms but if I die today, you will no longer be the queen. You will not be the Dowager Queen either, for you have given me no child which I can call mine. If I die, your brother Jaehaerys will be the king and perhaps your sister Alysanne will be the queen or whichever daughter of lickspittle your mother chooses. You will have nothing. No one will care for your opinions anymore and no one will respect you the way they do now. My own mother forged the Seven Kingdoms along with my father, with fire and blood. And yet, when your father was the king, she had no choice but to see her kingdom almost perish into nothing. What have you done compared to her? Your fate will be much worse.”

“Is that why you came here? To remind me of how great you are and how lucky I am to be alive and have you as my husband?” Rhaena asked him with tears in her eyes.

“Oh no, certainly not,” Maegor said. “I came here to tell you that I have decided to take another wife. I have already sent the proposal.”

“And who is that unlucky woman?” Rhaena asked.

“Lady Lucinda of House Rosby,” Maegor replied.

Rhaena burst into laughter on hearing the name.

Confused, Maegor asked her, “What happened? What is the matter?”

“If you hadn't killed that Pentosi witch, she would have certainly told you how her husband died. You do not know that, do you?” Rhaena said, laughing.

Maegor said, “He died in a hunting accident.”

Rhaena laughed again and said, “Things people say to keep their honour. One of my previous companions was Samantha Stokeworth, the younger sister of her husband, Ser Bennard Stokeworth. She told me something that you do not know.”

“And what is that?” Maegor asked.

“Apparently, her husband had a lowborn paramour. Lady Lucinda had that wench killed, and her head and entrails served to her husband when he was about to break fast on the morrow, while on his hunting trip. Ser Bennard was horrified when he saw his paramour's severed head wrapped in her entrails, and died of shock in his tent,” Rhaena said with an evil smile on her face. “I wish you luck, Uncle. I am sure she is the perfect wife for you.”

Rosby Castle :

Lady Prunella Stokeworth, a maid of ten, was the only Stokeworth living in the Rosby Castle. Lady Rosby used to think that it might be more proper if she lived in the Stokeworth Castle with her people but as the girl grew older, that thought vanished. The girl though comely, did not even possess a quarter of the beauty that her mother and Lady Rosby's goodsister, Lucinda Rosby did. However, Prunella seemed lovely enough to Lady Rosby. As a matter of fact, she had even convinced Lady Lucinda to get Prunella betrothed to her son.

It was another evening when Lady Rosby was having a chat with Prunella in her chamber.

“Aunt, is it true that the king wishes to marry my mother?” Prunella asked Lady Rosby.

Lady Rosby said, “It is true, little one. A messenger arrived this morning with a letter from His Grace. If we agree, he intends to wed her two moons later.”

“Will Uncle agree to this?” Prunella asked.

“Oh my sweet summer child, it is not really a proposal. It is an order and your uncle cannot defy it. However, we have to convince your mother as well,” Lady Rosby replied.

Just then, Lady Lucinda entered the chamber. She had just returned from the Castle Sept.

“May I join?” Lucinda asked.

“Sure. Let me pour you a cup of wine,” Lady Rosby said.

Prunella asked her mother, “Mother, have you heard about the proposal that came from the king?”

“I have,” Lucinda replied without a visible expression on her face.

“Are you going to reject the proposal?” Prunella asked.

Lucinda chuckled and said, “Foolish girl! Why would I refuse to become the queen?”

..

..

..

..

To be continued

[coineagan]

King Maegor I Targaryen

Son of King Aegon I Targaryen & Queen Visenya Targaryen.

Half-brother of King Aenys I Targaryen.

Husband of Queen Ceryse Hightower, Queen Alys Harroway, Queen Tyanna of the Tower, Queen Elinor Costayne, Queen Rhaena Targaryen & Queen Jeyne Westerling.

He had no children.

Reigned as King from 42 - 48 AC.

Dragonrider of Balerion.

[hisfavegirl]

Maegor Targaryen Masterlist.

One Shot.

Obsession's Edge - Maegor Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Pairing : Maegor Targaryen x Sister!Reader. Summary : He was a man of war, a conqueror forged in battle and bloodshed. But tonight, as he stood before you, his eyes held something else—something more dangerous than rage. Expectation. You knew what he meant. Your fate had been decided long before this moment. You were to be the last. The final wife. The one who would give him what he desired most. A son. A legacy.

[sugutoad]

INTRODUCTION TO THE MY HEART MY RUIN AU by @coffeebooksrain18

Rhaella Targaryen is the daughter of Aeny and the heart of Maegor. When the fire kindles in Maegor’s heart, she is the only one to calm it down too. But she is a dragon and the fire sparks in her heart too. She is the daughter of the dragons and the day she was held in Maegor’s arm, they became one another’s heart and ruin.

Lily Waters and Aemon Targaryen were doomed by the Gods the day they met one another. The night before his marriage to Jocelyn Baratheon, Aemon wanted one night for himself before locking his soul in the cage of duty. Little did he know that night he would meet Lily Water — a whore and a bastard — yet, somehow she would change his world, but not his ending.

After the death of his wife, Baelon Targaryen knows it is his duty to marry again. And while his heart still lays with Alyssa, he marries his youngest sister, Aelora, only out of duty. But they do say that love is the death of duty.

After the death of his first wife, Daemon Targaryen is put in the same position as his father had been years ago. But unlike him, Daemon always knows what he wants. And now, he wanted his half-sister, Visanna Targaryen as his for she is half his soul and heart.

[cherryclitgirl]

The Gods II

Pairings : Maegor x reader

Warnings : abortions, child loss, young pregnancy

Notes: brief mention of y/n

The days following the Death of king Maegor’s oldest son and heir where filled with sorrow. The two men responsible for the cold murder were caught fleeing Kingslanding with Aegon’s head on a sack. Maegor’s wrath was inevitable, putting multiple members of the faith to the blade, torturing the head of the kings guard for failing to protect his son. He tortured the two men to death, but it was still not enough. No one dared to step in his way. Adding fuel to the fire, the queen mother Visenya died of a sudden illness. Allowing dowager queen Alyssa and her two young children Jaehaerys and Alysanne to flee from Dragonstone, in return Maegor tortured Viserys to death.

He did everything but comfort his wife. The young girl was consumed with grief, she refused to eat or sleep since the death of her son. She grew paranoid of the shadows, believing the gods would come for her remaining children. When they slept, she didn’t. She would sit in bed clutching Aegon’s toy dragon, when she closed her eyes she could still hear the sound of her son’s muffled cries. The sound of the flesh cutting under the blade, her poor babe. Ripped off her arms so easily. The death of her brother Viserys only made her grieving worse. She began to neglect her motherly duties, as well as her children.

Baelon being the second oldest did not understand why he could not find Aegon. Rhaenor would cry for hours for no apparent reason in the arms of his wet nurse. The new born Rhaella having grown accustomed of being breast fed by her mother would not accept the milk from her wet nurse.

Queen Ceryse having be shut off by Maegor and the young girl, tried multiple times to speak with her. But the young girl refused to speak with anyone. That was until she managed to sneak into her room with the wet nurse who begged the young girl to feed Rhaella.

She saw the young girl standing by the large window holding Aegon’s funeral shroud. The burning of the body had yet to be done, as no one dared to intervene the grieving of the young queen and the cruel king.

Queen Ceryse did not know what to say, how to start. She stood watching the young girl for a moment. She didn’t have the courage to tell the poor girl that it was she who went to Maegor. Despite trying her best to deny it. It pained her when Maegor married his niece. It pained her even more when girl fell pregnant quickly. Seeing the girl bear four healthy children was a stab in the heart for Ceryse. Sending her away with Visenya was the least she could do. It gave her time to be with Maegor and pray that she would fall pregnant. But now her actions, her greed, her jealousy had consequences. “ The gods punished us, they punish me” she thought as she snuffled and wiped her tears away.

She didn’t have the heart to tell the poor girl she had completely forgotten to tell the guards to stand by the door. “It was never my intention to cause harm to you or your children “ Ceryse sniffed softly. The young girl had been condemned to punishment far beyond her understanding. Ceryse gulped and continued talking “I had every intention on telling the guards, protecting the sanctity of you and your children was my first priority”. Not matter what what Ceryse said, she knew it would never be enough. The girl was not at fault. She was innocent.

The young queen slowly looked back, “What they did-“ she said wanting to hold the poor young girl. “It doesn’t align with my personal beliefs of the faith “ she spoke hoping to sooth the girl. The young girls eyes fell on Ceryse’s necklace.

Ceryse clutched her necklace, she regretted wearing seven pointed star necklace, after all was the faith militant that killed Aegon. The young queen said nothing, but beneath those hurt and red eyes, was just a girl, who lost both of her of her brother, her son, and whose mother and sister were nowhere to be found.

Ceryse slowly walked to the girl “What you saw that night” she sighed softly trying to reach and hold the girl “when you came into Maegor’s room-“ The young girl gently shoved Aegon’s funeral shroud into her arms. “This is for my boy” she said walking past Ceryse.

Meagor insisted that both his son Aegon, and his mother Visenya were burned at Dragonstone at the same time. Many lords of minors and great houses traveled to the Dragonstone, although very few were present during the burning of the bodies.

Baelon stood by his mother watching the body of his brother burn away into ashes. His mother held his hand tightly. Baelon felt his mother’s grief, his heart clenched watching her cry. He’s only response, was too cry was as well. Baelon the bitter the history books would call him.

- - - - - - -

Alyssa had fled to Storms end with Jaehaerys and Alyssane.They were promised to be housed and welcomed by Lord Rogar shortly after fleeing . Rhaena had fled with her daughters shortly after the death of her husband Aegon. Alyssa had yet to receive word from her and her whereabouts. Her second daughter was but a walking corpse of sorrow and grief trapped in the hands of Maegor. Viserys had been tortured to death by Maegor. Her grandchild murdered in cold blood.

It was what they did to her sweet girl that pained Alyssa. Her poor daughter a victim of a crime she did not commit. She watched when Maegor took her to marry. She was there when her girl of ten and five gave birth to her first child, only to return months later pregnant again and again. She watched and could not save her.

She could only pray that Jaehaerys would take the throne. Save his sister and her children. Allow them to be free from Maegor’s grasp.

Alyssa exited the wheelhouse she had managed to pay for. The guards of house Baratheon stood with their Lord Rogar. She looked up as the rain began to fall on her face. A sight of freedom, a bitter sweet freedom. Unfortunately her daughter could not experience it. Oh her precious y/n, how much she adored the rain. She would’ve enjoyed dragging Aegon and Rhaena into the courtyard to play in the falling rain.

Before Alyssa could take step another step towards Rogar she fell to her knees. The hard rain fell on her;mixing with the salty tears that rolled down her cold cheeks. She could only remember times where her six children were together. Sitting at the long table together as Aenys wished for it to be. They were contented. A happy family, a good family. Maegor took that from her.

She cursed his name, desperate and angry she cried, her nails clenching into her palms. She wished for nothing more than to run, get her daughter and grandchildren and give them the freedom they deserved.

- - - - - - - - - -

In 45 AC shortly after the construction of the red keep and a year after the death of three year old of Aegon. Baelon Targaryen at just four summers old was officially named heir of the iron throne and prince of Dragonstone. A large tittle for a small boy who did not understand the it’s great significance. Soon after the announcement Maegor took his wife to her chambers. Her arm wrapped around his they walked past Ceryse. Her relationship with the girl had become strained and unpleasant.

“Baelon will marry Rhaella” Maegor firmly told as he left his wife’s bed. Y/n sat up from the bed lifting the sheets up to her bare chest. Her long silver hair covered her shoulders, weakly guarding her naked body “She’s barely one ” she muttered.

Maegor looked back at her “Let her be promised to him from a young age” he replied coldly. “I have let you name our children, let you pampered them with love, so they grow weak and feeble. He spat moving closer to the bed. He sat down close to her “You have no say on the matters “ he said firmly.

“Why keep me here then” she asked him. Slowly she was regaining the strength that was once taken from her. Although she still mourned the death of her son, the constant overlooking of those who surrounded her made her regain what she once lost. Her desire to fight. Not for Maegor, not for the crown. But the her children.

Maegor looked at the girl for a moment, his hand twitching to reach over and tighten itself around her neck. He liked her better when she did not question him. But something had changed in her, he knew it , he felt it. It had taken him off guard when she first rode him. He still remembered her hands on his large bare chest. The way she looked when she moaned. She was not just riding him to please him, she was doing it to please herself. Something in their marriage that had never happened. She was no longer callow and afraid , she took him for her own pleasure. For every night that he spend with Tyanna or Ceryse he would spend ten nights with y/n. Ultimately, he stopped visiting them. Solely focusing on his young wife. She would take him good. facing him , on her back, on her knees, his cock down her throat, the things that made him proud.

He didn’t answer her question. The silence between them felt long and unease. He pulled the silky sheets further up her bare chest.

He stood up and began butting up his breeches “You have been faithful, despite the circumstances you remain at my side, that’s why I keep you here”. He reached for Blackfyre and held up to her, the sharp end pointed at her. “I assume even when I’m gone you will carry me in your thoughts”. Unfortunately he was right. Despite her being deathly afraid of him and after years in his cruel grasp.She developed fidelity and compassion for him. Strongly believing he would protect her. Maegor knew this, he used to his advantages. Fueling his wife with lies and deceptions. Believing she had no one else to turned to , knowing she would do anything for her children. Maegor believed she will do anything to have Baelon on the throne. He offered her a seat in the small council to serve as his advisor. This did not go over lightly with Tyanna, but to her misfortune, Maegor did not care. He wanted her close, manipulate her as he always wished. Maegor left her chambers leaving her covered with the sheets of their aftermath, alone in the large empty room. Despite her enjoying their intimate moments the constant act of enjoying his company felt foreign to her. But it was necessary for her survival. Although the developed feelings of safety and compassion for him were strong. Something inside her opposed them.

The morning shortly after he left her trusted maid drew her a bath, and carefully cleaned and washed her. The warm water kissed her skin as the sponge glided down her arms and on her back. Her maids soft fingers caressed her scalp with gentleness, soothing away her turbulence. Kiara was her most trusted maid.She was gentle and attentive, appointed by grand maester Benifer himself. Kiara was fiercely loyal to her queen .

“Does my queen wish for a moment alone?” Kiara asked her as she brushed the last of her hair. The queen looked at her maid through the mirror and nodded “please “ she said softly. Kiara nodded, she made sure her queen had everything she needed before bowing and leaving.

She was to await someone, who always came after a night with Maegor. Moments late the door of the chamber opened, y/n looked to see Grand Maester Benifer standing by the door holding a something covered with a small cloth. He looked back the door as it shut and made sure no one was looking as he unveiled a small round cup with a lid. “Good morrow your grace”. He bowed his head at her and slowly walked to where she was. His wary expression was noticevale as he placed the cup on the table. “Good morrow grand maester” she said watching him place the cup on the table. The tea’s vapor dancing on top of the cup. “As requested “. He watched her slowly take the cup and smell it before she drank it slowly. She never enjoyed the taste of the sour taste, it burned her throat as she drank it, pausing here and there.

“If I may your grace” he spoke solemnly “ This happens to be the third one you’ve taken” he said in a hush voiced. “If the king find outs.. this is treason, killing potential heirs-“ Maester Benifer was cut off by the y/n who placed down the cup. “I’m aware…grand maester, but the king has three healthy heirs” despite her justification, the act was still immoral and distasteful to some. “ But his desires are not mine…this is my choice, my right “ she said firmly.

Grand maester Benifer nodded and looked down “What you do for your children your grace… it’s admirable…your labour will not unheeded go ” he promised her. He covered the cup with the cloth again. He had brewed the tea for her, and advised her when to take it. He was well aware of the risk that came with aiding the queen, but he would take that risk and more.

Unfortunately for him, and for the young queen it was not Maegor’s wrath they ought to be afraid of. For the gods tend to not be satisfied with only one son.

[ashblooddragons]

My Heart, My Ruin (Chapter 3/?)

(Sorry! I know it's a day late but yesterday was my family's Thanksgiving so I didn't have time to write sadly. but I got this chapter out today so hopefully it is alright lol)

32 ac Dragonstone 

Rhaella's pov

Me and Rhaena stand side by side as we watch two dragons feast upon horses, pigs, and what seems to be a squid but I can't be sure. We've both been desperate for a dragon, we both have been feeling a pull at our souls for far too long to ignore.

“How do we do this? Especially while wearing such unfit clothes?” Rhaena asks, turning to look at me and our outfits. 

I'm wearing a light blue dress with silver embroidered flowers and dragons along the sleeves, neckline, and hem of my dress. And of course, the necklace Uncle Maegor gave me for my nameday all those years ago.

And she is wearing a lovely dark navy dress with silver embroidery of dragons and stars along the sleeves, neckline and hem of her dress. 

Mama gave them to us only a week prior as a set stating. “You two are so close, you may as well match every once and a while.” 

And to be fair she's not wrong, we both have many ‘friends’, mostly ladies whose fathers wish to get a in with the royal family. But no matter how much gossip, walks in the gardens, or some other mundane activity they bring me or Rhaena's way, we would both pick to play and explore with each other. She truly is my best friend in this whole world. 

“I mean we don't have to fly on them, we just have to claim them, the flying part is more of a special thing to add on. Plus yours isn't nearly large enough to be saddled and ridden yet.” I say pointing to the blue dragon Rhaena had had her eyes on, it is no larger than a horse it would take at least two more years before she could fly upon the beast. 

“Yeah I know that, but you want Meraxes, she is the size of mountains. She could swallow you, me, and my little dragon to be in one fell swoop! So we need a plan, at least for your future dragon.” She says pointing towards Meraxes.

I think for a moment trying to figure out how we can achieve our goal and not be jerky for the dragons this afternoon. I then notice the distance between the dragons, because of Meraxes size compared to the wild blue dragon, it made me believe they were closer than they actually are. 

“There is no need, you go to your dragon, and I'll go to mine.” I say confidently starting to wake down the hill we were watching the two dragons from. That is until Rhaena pulls me back looking scared 

“What if I forget the words? What if you forget the words? What if we both do and we're both fried? What if even though we do everything right they still don't choose us?” She rambles off in such quick succession it is near impossible to understand what she is saying.

“Calm down, Rhaena,” I say gripping her shoulders, making her look me in the eyes trying to calm her down. “Where is my fearless little sister? Surely my little sister will face a dragon. I mean you are the one who pranks grandsire and great aunt Visenya, if you can prank them I think…no, I know you can claim a dragon.” I say which seems to calm her. 

I know I got through to her when I see that fire and mischievous look come back to her eyes replacing the cold and fearfulness that used to be there.

“Alright, let's do this.” Rhaena says before practically running down the halls towards her gorgeous blue dragon. 

Looking at the dragon from this viewing point and not the far distance I usually do, I can see why it has caught Rhaena's attention. It is a beautiful baby blue with silver accents and white spikes and membrane. When its scales are caught in the light of the sun it makes a breathtaking shimmer that appears as if the stars are made by this dragon, and this dragon alone.

My attention is quickly turned though by the colossal that is known as Meraxes by her growl that seems to either shake the ground, terrifies me to the point my knees are knocking together, or both…most likely both. 

I feel as if my very soul is vibrating when looking at the white and gold beast, her scales appear to shift between white and deep silver depending where the light catches them, but her spikes, horns and membrane are gold just like the molten gold of her eyes. She is a gorgeous dragon, one I know will be mine.

I walk closer to her taking slow and calm steps trying not to startle her. The thought rises a giggle from me, for why would this beast large enough to be mistaken as a mountain be frightened by me a little girl of only ten? 

I'm now right in front of Meraxes feeling the warmth of her breath against me, I'm so close with each breath she takes my hair is either pushed into my face or blown past my shoulders. I thought I would feel panic when I came this close to her, but instead I feel a wonderful calmness, a warm and kind feeling, the feeling of being whole. 

I feel her nuzzle against my chest, she is obviously trying to be gentle but when you’re the size she is well it’s quite hard to be gentle. I finally decide to reach out when she starts to purr against my chest. I feel the warmth of her scales, they are smooth with only a bump here or there from her war days. 

I can’t fight the smile that comes to my face at the very thought that I have a dragon. 

I'm startled out of my musing when I hear a cheerful squeal. I quickly turn and see Rhaena doing a happy dance which consists of her jumping and fist-bumping the air. 

“I GOT A DRAGON!” She screams excitedly as her blue beast watches, and I swear is dancing in joy with her if the sway and tail swishes are any indicator.

I start walking towards Rhaena when she starts running over to me and Meraxes. Though I think the dragon wouldn't hurt my little sister, as she probably feels the bond I have with Rhaena, I would rather be safe than sorry. 

Rhaena stops and gives me that mischievous grin of hers before saying cheekily. “So is it fair to assume you tamed that mountain you call a dragon, or am I to wait a bit longer for the flames to leave her maw?” 

I can't help but roll my eyes and giggle, for Rhaena truly is just a cheeky thing always ready with a joke. 

“Yes, I succeeded as well, though I don't know if I want to take her for a fly yet.” I say looking behind me to watch as Meraxes eyes Rhaena curiously.

When I turn back I find Rhaena pouting with her infamous puppy dog eyes. I already know what she's going to ask me before she even asks it.

“Please! Oh please can we fly back to the castle?” 

I sigh looking back at Meraxes trying to decide if I'll give in or not. When I turn back I find I can't give one, for Rhaena knows I know the commands for she and I both take the same classes with the Dragonkeepers. 

Finally, with a groan I nod and start walking towards Meraxes. I know I made the right choice when I hear Rhaena's happy chatter as she talks to her dragon about how she will need to follow us.

I stop and look at the ropes wondering how intact they are after all these years without use and being worn down by the weather upon Dragonstone. But with one touch I can feel their intact and could hold both me and Rhaena easily.

“You go first, I'll be right behind you in case you slip.” I say moving to the side so she can climb up.

She only nods before starting her climb with me quickly following behind her. I feel the burn of the ropes as I pull myself up, it feels as if no time passed from the time my feet were on the ground and I was sitting upon the saddle. 

I try and catch my breath before turning to Rhaena to ask if she is secure. When she nods excitedly wrapping her arms around me I quickly turn around commanding Meraxes to take to the skies.

“Sōvegon!” 

Me and Rhaena scream in delight as Meraxes runs towards the cliff edge before leaping off and extending her wings. When we're in the sky I feel this immediate calmness that comes through me. 

“Look, mine is following us! She listened!” Rhaena says excitedly as she points to her dragon trying its best to keep up with us. 

I smile, nodding, and look forward again, noticing we’re almost to the castle. I search for a spot large enough for Meraxes to land, it takes a bit of time but I find one close enough to the castle that we won’t have to walk far. I barely make out the shapes of Father, Mother, Grandsire and Uncle Maegor as we land. 

They all start running towards us as we slid down Meraxes extended wing. Mother is the first to reach us grabbing both of us by the shoulders and checking for injuries.

“Are you alright? Neither of you are hurt?” She asks before kissing our brows and hugging us close. 

“We’re alright Mother, we both claimed dragons.” I say hugging her back and taking in her scent of oranges and cinnamon. 

“Yes, we can see that, Darlings.” Father says from behind Mother marveling at the sheer size and beauty of Meraxes before turning to Rhaena’s dragon. “Though I do believe that one is wild.” 

Rhaena giggles running over to Father with a smile that could outshine the very sun. “I’m gonna call her Dreamfyre because her scales look like stars when the sun catches them.” 

I’m soon distracted when Mother walks over to the now curious Aegon stopping him from rushing towards the dragons. I turn to search for the one face I was hoping to see after claiming a dragon and it doesn’t take me long to find him as he is already moving towards me. 

“You claimed Meraxes, you have a dragon.” He says with a smile, but for some reason, it seems pinched, forced like he isn’t truly happy. 

Instead of trying to find out why he is upset I decide to answer. “Yes, isn’t she lovely, Kepus?” 

He only hums looking anywhere but me. This confuses me, he has always said I’d claim a dragon one day, that he would be so proud of me when I do, but he doesn’t seem proud he seems angry. 

I get no time to inquire about this strange behavior as his wife comes walking out asking questions about dragons and such. I feel the same ugly feeling I always do when she is with Kepus, the one I never get rid of no matter how hard I try. So instead I turn to pet Meraxes along her jaw missing the way my uncle turns to me with a proud smile that finally showed once he pushed through his jealousy.

Series Masterlist

Special thanks to @sugutoad For making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @sachaa-ff @classicsimpforaaronwarner @mmogurl

[lucien-calore]

need more people drawing maegor targaryen like the big boy he is

[coffeebooksrain18]

Also Rhaena had WEEKS to claim Vhagar and didn't, she had a couple days on Driftmark before the funeral to claim Vhagar. So them saying "Aemonds disrespected!" Makes no sense when you take that into account. Also Maegor couldn't claim Balerion until Aegon died, and he also didn't wait very long after her father's funeral to claim said dragon.

People need to understand that Dragons pick their riders, they chose, their is jo steeling or forcing it. You claim or you die.

This doesn't make sense because if you know targaryen dragon lore, then you would know that dragon will only be unclaimed if the rider has passed. Both Aemond and Maegor had to wait for the rider to pass so they could claim a dragon. The difference is that Aemond was so desperate to have a dragon. His eyes weren't set on Vhagar until she became unclaimed, and this was his only chance to get her and because she chose him. It was more likely that he was meant to have her. Maegor already had his eyes set on Balerion because, at the time, Balerion was the biggest dragon. But knowing that Balerion was claimed by his father, Aegon. Maegor had to wait until Aegon passed away.

This person said that Aemond claimed Vhagar was disrespectful to Laena since it was her funeral. But nobody wants to talk about Daemon. Her husband slept with his niece on the same day. Aemond didn't have a relationship with Laena. He didn't know her that well. Maegor wasn't raised by his father. But he still respected him as a king to an extent as a father, which is probably why he chose to wait until it was the right time to claim Balerion.

The reason why Maegor has more respect is because he was raised by a targaryen mother who valued the blood of old Vhalayria. Aemond was raised by a mother who had no experience with dragons, and her religion is the religion that Maegor has no respect for. Because it's not the religion he is going to follow.

You can argue about Aemond, all you want. But it doesn't change the fact that Vhagar still chose him as her rider.