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propheticbride · 2 months ago

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Bastards and Dragons I

𐙚 As you return to Kind's Landing to help defend your brother's claim to Driftmark, you find yourself entangling yourself in old resurfacing feelings.

𐙚 Aemond x Reader (tw: manipulation, incest)

It had been years since you had graced King’s Landing, staying in Dragonstone along with your other siblings, at your mother's behest. The memories of your childhood stung, the castle you had left behind simply just a memory of a different time.

You were not stupid. You knew why Vaemond was questioning Lucerys’s birthright to Driftmark. Everyone did. Although you loved Laenor, you felt a disconnect from him. He was a good father, and tried his hardest to make sure you and your brothers knew comfort and love. But deep down, it didn't feel right.

You hadn't been in Kings Landing for even a day, before you and your brothers found yourselves in the training yard, Jacaerys leading the tour.

"See? I told you this would still be here." he smiles at your youngest brother. "And you thought you could swing Criston’s morning star. And you almost took your own head off."

Lucerys looks around nervously, shrinking into his form.

"What's your problem?" Jacaerys shot Luke a look.

"Everyone’s staring at us." Luke sighs. "No one would question me being heir to Driftmark…if…if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong."

"It doesn't matter what they think." you remind him.

Crowds of noise begin to cheer, as you and your brothers turn around to see all the fuss.

You find yourself staring at the man with long silver hair moving between a man you did know, Criston Cole.

Suddenly, the silver haired man turned, and the image of young Aemond was quickly replaced by a dashing prince. Aemond stood tall in the courtyard, keeping his feet moving as he swung his sword against Cole. Fast and quick in his movements, eventually besting the much older knight.

The spectators all clapped, including you and your two brothers.

"Well done, my Prince." Criston nods at Aemond. "You’ll be winning tourneys in no time."

"I don’t give a shit about tourneys." Aemond's eyes find yours, not your brother's. "Nephews…and my darling niece. Have you come to train?"

You hadn't seen your uncle in so long, he had changed from the once quiet and bullied boy that you had known. You once exchanged words with him every so often when able, until your mother had moved you all so abruptly to Dragonstone, cutting off any connection you had formed with the prince.

His eyes focus on you, taking note of how curious you glanced back at him. You had changed. The soft meek girl who hid behind her mother’s skirts was now a beautiful woman, standing before him with an air of interest for him in her.

"It seems time has passed faster than I thought", he remarks with an undertone of mockery.

“I haven't seen you since...the incident at driftmark.” you smile at him, manners always first.

Aemond lets out a dry chuckle at your words, his eye narrowing. "Yes, the issue at Driftmark", he says with a bitter tone, "It seems like yesterday."

The memories of that night were never far from his mind. Every night you were gone, he had thought about how your screams alerted the guards, allowing them to pull apart the bastards that attacked him. You had cupped his face, sobbing as you took his gashed face in. Aemond had gripped your skirts so tight, almost feeling bad for bloodying your nightgown.

“Childhood must’ve been fond at times, no?” you ask, trying to search his eye.

"Fond? I suppose for some, it was...", he huffs, "But for me, you could say it was quite the opposite.”, he adds, his voice bitter as he glances at your brothers briefly before turning his gaze back to you.

You knew Aemond’s childhood hadn't been the best. Thanks to Jacaerys and Aegon’s cruel treatment of him. You remember warning Jacaerys that beaten dogs always bite back, completely sure that the incident at Driftmark was that: the dog finally biting back.

You look at Jacaerys then back to the prince, “But god you've grown so tall…I remember Aegon being the taller one.”

Aemond can't help but smile at that. It was true, he had grown considerably since he was younger, and he was now taller than Aegon. Giving him some power trip over the other man.

"Indeed, I have", he says with a smile. "I grew far more than my brother did".

“And what a fighter you have become.” Lucerys speaks up.

“Quite the fighter? And what do you know of Knights, boy?” Aemond questions the smaller one, who shrinks at his crueler tone used for him.

“Nothing. Lucerys knows nothing, but he is to learn, is he not? If he is going to be the heir to Driftmark.” you try to ease the tension you can feel building up.

Aemond laughs at the mention of Lucerys being the heir to Driftmark. "Yes, the little bastard shall be the Lord of Driftmark…” Aemond turns to look at your brother. "Though I wonder if he's truly worthy of such a title.”

“Aemond.” you say with a mixture of disgust and shock.

You weren't stupid, very obviously aware of you and your brother’s brown soft locks instead of the traditional silver hair Targaryen’s donned. But your mother had explained sometimes it wasn't the promised color, evident of Rhaenys’s brown hair.

Aemond merely smiles at your reaction.

"Oh, come now…” he says, his tone mocking. "Surely you know the truth. Lucerys is a bastard, and he has no right to claim Driftmark.”

“Then that makes me a bastard as well, does it not?” you are quick to defend your brother to his words.

The prince only glances at you before leaning close into your ear to whisper, "Yes, I suppose it does. But tell me, have you ever felt anything akin to jealousy knowing that you are to be nothing more than a mere bastard, while your younger brother will be lord of the tides? And your other one, heir to the iron throne? You could be so much more, if the opportunity would arise.”

✮⋆˙

“Mother?” you are quick to enter her chambers.

Rhaenyra looks up at you, at her feet Viserys and Aegon play. “Yes my love?”

“I ran into Aemond earlier, training with Cole..” you say, sitting beside her on the velvet chair.

“Oh you did, did you?” Rhaenyra’s face turns, not liking the idea of you with her brother. She quickly glances up at you, reading your face almost immediately. “What is it?”

“Mother, he called us bastards. For all of the training yard to see and hear."

“He did what?” she looks concerned.

“Mother, he said that Luke wouldn't inherit Driftmark, because he is a bastard. And that he's not worthy of it, like Jace isnt of the throne…” you sigh at your words. “That I would seek nothing, because I am a bastard.”

Your mother’s face softens a bit. She would never allow any harm to befall her children, she’d rather die. “Hey.” she soothes. “My sweet, do not listen to him, for he speaks lies. You are not a bastard, you are my daughter and you are everything. Do not ever forget that, hm?”

Tears form in your eyes. “I am not stupid mother. I see the way Queen Alicent looks at me, and has looked at all three of us for years. How the court sneers behind our backs for the color of our hair.”

Rhaenyra’s heart aches once again, as she reaches out, she tilts your chin up. “Do not listen to them, my love.” she speaks softly. Rhaenyra would not allow your innocence to be taken from you at such a young age. “You know the truth…you are my daughter, my beautiful girl. No one can argue that.”

“Is that why Vaemond is questioning Luke as heir?” you ask.

Your mother’s hand falls from your face and she sighs, “No my dearest. The truth of it is that he is a greedy and restless second son scorned.”

“Lots of theatrics for a second son.”

Rhaenyra gives you a small smile, “It’s the height of ambition, is it not? And foolishness.”

“Where is Daemon?” you ask as you glance around her empty chambers.

Rhaenyra pauses for a second, “Why?”

“You shouldn't be alone while we’re here.” you look back to her.

Your mother chuckles softly, cocking her head so slightly. “I’ll be fine, little one.” she assures. “I don’t need him watching me every second of the day.”

“I still don't like you being alone.” you frown, allowing her to pull you into her.

“And why is that hm?” she asks.

“Because I do not trust the queen. Not at all.” you declare.

“You too then, hm?” Rhaenyra laughs slightly. Of course you didn't. It had always worried your mother how much you truly did pick up on. “And why do you not trust her?”

“Because of how she treats us. Treats you.” you point to the scar on Rhaenyra's arm, left by Alicent years ago.

Rhaenyra pauses, recounting how you and your brothers had witnessed that moment. Alicent went mad, stupid enough to bring a knife to the heir of the throne, but to actually cut skin and cause the blood of the dragon to stain the floors, was another act entirely.

“I am so sorry you and your brothers had to witness that. You should have been in your chambers.” her voice is soft.

“Alicent should've died for that...you are the heir to the throne!” you shake your head, voice shaking slightly.

Rhaenyra’s eyes widen, her stomach turns from your words. She places her hands on your face, “Do not say such things.”

“Why not? Are you saying that grandfather allowing her to live was right? That she saw no punishment...no justice, was right?” you stand to your feet, almost upset at what you are hearing.

Rhaenyra stands as well, sighing as she shakes her head. “It does not matter if it was right or not.”

“Yes it does!”

“She-” your mother pauses and takes a deep breath. As if she was choosing her words carefully. “I do not want you thinking or bringing up anything from that night. I am your mother and you are my daughter, I do not wish to hear it come from your mouth. Do I make myself clear?”

“You're defending her.” your eyes widen at the realization. Your mother was defending the very woman who had bullied her for years, tormented you and your brothers with vile gossip and drove you all from your places in King’s Landing.

“I am not-” Rhaenyra huffs in frustration. “I am merely protecting you-”

“You are not protecting me from anything! Do you think when you took Harwin Strong into bed, you'd be protecting us?” you know the words will sting her, but at the moment you are too angry to care.

Rhaenyra looks at you, almost as if you were a stranger in the moment. “You-”

“Everyone knows mother, you can tell by how they stare at us.” your voice is quiet, defeated.

“Darling, look at me.” Rhaenyra demands. “There's my daughter. The one who's kind, smart and fierce. Words have never hurt you before, you shall not let them hurt you now.”

“You don't understand what it's like. When it’s all anyone can see! I am meant to be a Velaryon, yet I am barely that if that at all!” hot tears stream your face, your own frustration growing.

“I don't understand?” Rhaenyra’s voice breaks. “I wouldn't understand? What it’s like to be stared at, to be whispered about as I walk the halls? What do you think happened to me when you were born? Or the years before that?”

“It isn't the same!” you stress. “You are a Targaryen! You have the silver hair! I have the brown hair that shows proof of your-”

“Of my what?” your mother’s face falls.

“Everyone knows…that Harwin Strong is our father.”

Rhaenyra swallows, a look of hurt painting her face. “You should not focus on that. You should focus-”

“On myself, yes. The bastard of the great House Targaryen.” with your last words, you can't help but not stay for the argument that would ensue. You quickly leave her.

✮⋆˙

The door to his chambers stood before you. You knew his chambers by heart because before you were ripped away from King's Landing, they were once your chambers.

You inhale a breath, debating if doing it is really worth it. What answers could he have that your mother was not giving you. Honesty perhaps being one.

You knock slightly on his door. After some footsteps are heard, his door swings open to him standing there. As he takes your image in, his face turns into a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“Aemond. I did not wake you did I?” you ask softly.

“No, you did not.” he shakes his head. “I simply was reading.”

“Can I come in?” you give him a soft smile, hoping he takes note of your kindness.

“Very well.” Aemond stands back, opening his chamber doors to allow you in. “You may enter.”

You enter his chambers and remove your robes, leaving you in your nightdress.

Aemond raises his eyebrow as he closes his chamber door, taking in your form.

“I spoke to my mother earlier today.” you break the silence that hung between you two.

Aemond’s figure leans against one of the stone walls and simply stares at you. “Oh? What about?”

“I know Harwin Strong is my father, but she won't deny yet won’t say the truth plainly.” you look at the ground, refusing to make eye contact as you say the words.

Aemond’s only eye widens.

The rumor of Harwin being you and your brother’s true father was a nasty rumor that had circulated the court for years. Hanging shame on the crown princess, and her children as people whispered whenever they were present. A rumor he know his own mother had begun, backed by a simple ‘Just look at their hair, that is no true Targaryen nor Velaryon’

It was an open secret, nasty gossip. Never confirmed.

Not until now. You stood before him, confirming what your mother tried so hard to keep quiet.

He studies your face for a fleeting moment before speaking, “So it is true then? Harwin Strong is your father?”

You nod as tears begin flooding your face, “He is. Perhaps I always knew, but just wanted to deny it. But as I grow older I cannot. I've come to you because you know what it's like to...not belong where you are supposed to.”

Aemond watches as you wipe your tears, his expression turning soft as he pushes himself off the wall and walks towards you. He knew exactly what you meant. He had been an outsider for years, looking in as Aegon and your brothers relentlessly tortured him.

“I do not know what to do. I feel like I will not fit no matter where I am. Like a broken piece of a glass that cannot be put back.” you sob.

Aemond cups your face, bringing you to look directly at him. And in that moment the shy bastard he once knew flushed away as now all he could see was your gorgeous face, inches away from his.

When did these feelings exist? He felt butterflies as you searched his face.

“I know what it's like…to feel that way,” he admits. “It's an unbearable feeling that threatens to swallow you whole.”

You lean in, “I never hurt you, I couldn't. I knew my brothers were so cruel to you, along with Aegon...I felt so bad.”

“No, you never hurt me sweet girl.” he murmurs. “But you also never stopped them. You were the oldest of your brothers, you should've…”

“I'm sorry!” you cry. “Please do not be mad at me, I cannot have you against me as well.”

“I’m not mad at you.” he assures. “I could never be mad at you. It's just…sometimes your indifference pained me more than their cruelty.”

“I should've said something, told someone. Maybe if I had, you'd still have your eye.” you admit. Not sure you believe your words.

“Perhaps you should have.” Aemond smiles a little, the idea of your empathy towards him over taking the side of your brothers made him feel different towards you. Feelings he had tried so hard to ignore, pouring back in. He shakes his head, “No need to ponder on the painful past. What’s done is done I’m afraid, and we must live with the consequences of our actions.”

You stare at Aemond's lip, desire burning in your eyes, “Did you ever think of me? All of those years?”

Aemond nods at you, of course he thought of you. More than he'd care to admit. "Yes", he answers. “I thought of you. More often than I should have.”

“I thought of you too...would stare out from the balcony of my chambers towards the shores of King’s Landing...missing you.” your years have cleared up now, face inches from his. The tension is too much.

“You missed me?” he asks in disbelief.

“Yes uncle, I missed you.”

Aemond’s breath hitches at the use of the term, something you had called him playfully as children.

‘Yes uncle, coming uncle.’

Aemond’s restraint, all of it that he was holding back so desperately, shatters. He leans in, closing the gap and presses his lips against yours. You immediately react, holding his face just as he holds yours.

You pull back from the kiss, “what did you mean? Earlier you said I could benefit from a situation that would arise...what would you want with a bastard like me?”

Aemond’s expression changes, still caught up in the fact you willingly kissed him back. Something he only dreamed of when he was younger.

He let out a sigh, "Yes, bastard or not, I have desires. Desires that you, as a bastard, could fulfill for me.”

You weren't sure you liked his tone. “And what desires are that?”

He takes in your form again, and takes a deep breath. “Desires better shown than spoken about.”

You didn't know he had felt this way about you. Only a child’s crush that faded only so slightly when you were forced from your home.

“I cannot give you anything, but perhaps children with brown hair I’m afraid...I'm nothing.” you insist, shaking your head.

Aemond sighs dramatically, “Do not speak of yourself like that. You are much more than that whore’s bastard daughter. And as for children? I’ll give you beautiful silver haired boys to dote after.”

“You...you'd give me princes?”

He smiles at you, hands returning to your face. “Yes”, he says firmly. “I would. I'd give you princes and princesses. Legitimate sons and daughters.”

“But I am not your wife, they would be bastards.” you remind him.

His heart aches at the truth of your words, but you were right. You were not his wife. They would be bastards. But you didn't need to be married for them to be conceived.

“Make me your wife.” you whisper. “Take me the way Daemon has taken my mother.”

“The old Valyrian way is a blood oath…you would want that? I thought all princesses dreamed of fancy feasts and wedding ceremonies.” Aemond laughs a little.

“I'm not one for feasts...or for dramatic gatherings of strangers. I know your mother wouldn't allow it, nor would mine. Besides, once married, one of us would have to die for it to be void.”

Aemond’s eyes darken slightly. “Our mothers, at each other’s throats for us and our safety, yet not knowing where our hearts truly lie.”

“So you’ll have me?” you ask, desperate and vulnerable.

“Yes.” he nods. “I’ll have you…in every way.”

You kiss him, it's desperate and almost pathetic. Moaning against his mouth as you try to rid him of his clothes. He groans into the kiss as well, feeling your need for him. The need he's felt for you for years, desperate for this.

He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily. “You're eager aren't you.”

“I’ve needed you since we were younger, Uncle.” you nod.

“And i’ve wanted you.” he begins to shed you of your nightgown. “From the moment you first spoke to me when we were children. I knew you would be my wife, you had to.”

“Take me.” you beg.

“I’ll take you.” he says breathlessly. With one swift movement, he carries you to his sprawling bed.

“I love you, Uncle.” you manage out. The words are surprising, even to you.

Aemond lays you down against the soft blankets, “I love you as well sweet girl. More than I should…more than I intended.”

You kiss him again, reaching for the growing hard on you can visibly see through his pants.

He groans at your touch, growing weak in your hands. “Impatient aren't you?”

“Waited for so long...waited my whole life to be with you!” you tell him.

“I’m here now. I’m yours.” he promises.

He moans at your touch, getting lost in the pure lust of it. “Fuck.”

“Stop teasing me…haven't we both waited enough?” you cry. You wanted him now.

“You want me?” he smirks. “Perhaps I won't hold back.”

“Don't.” you insist.

“Oh you’ll have me. All of me.” he demands. He pins your wrists above your head, covering your body with his.

You both deepen the kiss as he begins to press and roll his body against yours, the small flame inside you flickering. Pure pleasure rattling you.

“You feel good,” he murmurs. “so good.”

He lifts your hips up, pinning you against him, rolling his hips harder. You moan wildly, and desperately. All of these feelings were so new to you, as you imagined they were new to Aemond too.

“Have you done this before?” you ask him.

His face riddles with guilt, and your heart drops slightly.

He nods, “I have.”

“Oh…”

“Aegon…made me. Said it would turn me into a man. It meant nothing.” he insists.

“You laid with a maiden?”

He shakes his head, “A whore.”

Your heart feels better at this. Whores were an easy outlet to the men of Aemond’s kind. You knew that. It meant nothing at the end of the day.

“I’m still…a maiden.” you tell him.

A bastard who was still a virgin.

“How intriguing. I would not have guessed-”

“You think I am a whore?” you scoff.

“No. I know you know better than that…but with your mother leading by example, one must wonder.” he corrects you.

“I wanted to save it…for someone special.” you admit silently.

His eye widened, “You saved it for me?”

Deep down he figured that in all those years, Rhaenyra had married you to your brother, Jace. And that by the time you returned you would have made Rhaenyra a grandmother. To his surprise, you weren't married to him, nor did you bear any of his children. It made him know that you simply were his.

“You did not marry Jace?” he asks.

You shake your head, “I love him, the way a sister loves a brother.”

“And me?” he stares at you.

“I do not love you the way a niece should love an uncle.” you take a sharp breath.

“And how do you love me then?” he lays his forehead against yours.

“The way a wife loves her husband.”

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond targaryen #hotd smut

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libraryoffandomsuniverse · 10 months ago

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Being Rhaenyra Targaryen's husband would include:

Masterlist

Okay this is my 3rd time uploading this, because tumblr was being a whiny bitch. This turned out much longer than I expected and I'm already planning on writing more in this au. I combined book and show canon, although I kept the Velaryons as black. I also renamed some of Rhaenyra's children and gave her 1 more.

This is not team green friendly or kind to Alicent. At all. Reader is a petty bitch who adores his wife and whose love language is murdering their enemies in various secret ways.

Warnings include murder, forced infertility (Viserys), Rhaenyra and Reader scheming for the throne.

You're the oldest son of Rhaenys Targaryen and Corlys Velaryon. Greatness is in your blood.

You're proud - how can you not be? You're the oldest son of the Sea Snake and The Queen Who Never Was, the heir to High Tide and the next Lord of Driftmark. You're the second rider of Silverwing, after Queen Alysanne. You are cunning and clever - everything your parents could wish for in a son. You have a lot to be proud of.

After fighting in the Stepstones and being knighted, you emerge as one of the chief candidates for Rhaenyra's hand.

The brothel incident still happens in this au and Rhaenyra still sleeps with Criston.

When your betrothal is announced, you both agree to do your duty. And although you aren't Daemon or Criston, you are still handsome and a warrior. Doing her duty will not be difficult for Rhaenyra.

You quickly fall in love, much to both your surprise. Rhaenyra falls first, your loyalty and ferocity in defending her sneaks past her defences.

You fall harder, her wit and hidden darkness, the type that matches yours, pulls you in. Her soul speaks to yours and feels familiar on some level.

By the time Jacaerys is born, you're incredibly happy and in love with each other.

Your darling boy is quickly followed by Lucerys, Baelon, Aegon, Gaemon and eventually (after a few years) your twin daughters Visenya and Aemma.

Your royal apartments are rarely quiet because of your children. They adore their mother's hugs, love to hang off your shoulders and follow you both around the Red Keep like little ducklings.

Being the best dressed couple in Westeros. Rhaenyra likes it when you match and often coordinates your outfits to do so. Sometimes it's matching her dress to your doublet, other times it's more subtle like you wearing ruby beads in your locs to match the precious stones in her bodice. It makes her feel like you're on a team and she knows you feel the same way, judging from the little smirk and raised eyebrow you give her when you see her and the maids going through your wardrobes.

You and Rhaenyra love to gossip together. It mainly happens in bed after you make love. She tells you the latest rumours her ladies in waiting told her and you reveal the scandals you heard from your manservant and squires.

You encourage her to be more visible to the common folk. You know that if she has their love, then any attempts to usurp her will fail. Your little family becomes regular fixtures in King's Landing as you explore the city and restart Queen Alysanne's charitable ventures. Rhaenyra starts heading sessions for women to raise any issues.

You know it's working when you hear people talking about the Realm's Delight and the Sea Dragon and praising your efforts in improving their lives.

The sight of you both racing your dragons high in the sky is a frequent occurrence. It started as a way to unwind after the small council meetings. As your family grew, your children joined in, strapped into yours or Rhaenyra's saddles. When they grew old enough and their dragons were big enough, they followed you on theirs.

Dividing your time between Dragonstone and the Red Keep, although visits to Driftmark are also regular events.

Laenor frequently pops in to visit and spoil your children.

Corlys and Viserys both compete to be the favourite grandparent, but you and Rhaenyra know that Rhaenys is the real favourite. For the sake of peace, you won't reveal it.

Despite Daemon and Laena staying in Pentos, you keep up a regular correspondence with them. You even arrange to meet in Driftmark with your children a few years into your marriage. Your children bond quickly, while the adults watch on and tell stories.

Being married to the heir to the Iron Throne isn't easy and there are many people who would see that Rhaenyra never becomes Queen.

As her consort, you consider it your duty to make the path easier for her.

Your first victim is Criston Cole. After murdering Joffrey Lonmouth, you expect him to get punished. The news of Queen Alicent accepting him as her sworn sword leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, particularly when you have to break the news to Laenor.

Along with your pride, one of your greatest attributes is how protective you are of your loved ones. Joffrey was Laenor's lover as well as one of your good friends.

It takes a little while to plan, but one day gossip erupts about Criston being found drunk in a brothel that's particularly debauched, even by the standards of King's Landing.

You seize your chance and tell your goodfather that perception is important, that such a knight like that cannot be allowed to guard the royal family, especially the Queen. Viserys ignores Alicent's protests and Criston is gelded and sent to the Wall.

Speaking of Viserys, you know that any sons he has will be pitted against your wife.

You also know that his health isn't very good.

You decide to help him by giving him a tonic that your mother swears by, along with some lotions and creams. "Two drops of this with your morning meal every day and you'll soon feel better, Your Grace," you persuade him. "And wouldn't it be wonderful if you could meet your future grandchildren?"

Your father told you once you could sell water to a fish, such was the power of your silver tongue.

Viserys' health does improve after taking the tonic and the lotions that are massaged into his skin fix most of his pains.

However you failed to mention that the tonic and lotion both have herbs which cause infertility if used over long periods of time. Your mother only uses the tonic, and does so sparingly.

Viserys and Alicent only have Aegon and Helaena as a result of your actions.

You and Rhaenyra work hard to charm lords and ladies to support your cause.

You go on progress across the realm, flattering and courting all the noble families you meet.

It quickly becomes known that to be one of Princess Rhaenyra's ladies in waiting is a boon for attaining a fortunate marriage. In turn, you surround yourself with ambitious lords and their sons who want to advance their own interests.

It's a delicate dance, but you were taught how to make alliances by your parents, plus your charisma and ability to speak to anyone makes you one of the most popular members of the royal family.

Any attempts Alicent makes to gain allies for her son are countered by you and she can't stand you.

She tried to make Rhaenyra bring Lucerys to her when he was born, but you shut that down. "I wasn't aware that the Queen was in such poor health that she couldn't come herself to meet the newest member of our family," you say with a mocking smile. "The King is already coming to meet his grandson and I'm sure he would wish for Her Grace to join him." The sour look on the Queen's face when she finally arrives, only to find Viserys holding your baby boy, is a sight you'll remember for weeks to come.

You're Rhaenyra's greatest weapon and she despises how popular you are. You weren't supposed to be this politically adept, your children weren't supposed to be that lovely and polite and Rhaenyra was not supposed to be the heir when Viserys already has a son.

She says so to Larys Strong, who decides to do something about it without telling her.

You survive the pathetic assassination attempt because of a loyal servant.

Rhaenyra finds out what happened and she is furious. When she finds out Larys did it? He's a dead man walking.

His body is found in a secluded corridor at the bottom of the stairs. It's fairly obvious that he slipped and fell in a tragic accident - the servants had only finished cleaning and polishing those stairs the day before.

You thank your wife for avenging you with a sapphire necklace and several rounds of insatiable sex that eventually results in your son Aegon being conceived.

Unfortunately Lyonel Strong takes this as his chance to resign as Hand and return to Harrenhall, something you and your wife are unhappy about. You will miss him and his unwavering loyalty and fairness.

You miss him even more when you find out Otto Hightower is returning to King's Landing to be Viserys' Hand again.

The return of her father emboldens the Queen, although you and Rhaenyra are more than a match for them, both during the Small Council meetings (which you are Master of Ships) and outside them.

Eventually though, you decide to take care of the problem, although your wife cautions you to be careful.

A year after becoming Hand again, Otto Hightower is dead. His health had been declining for some time, even before he returned to King's Landing, but the poison you'd had your spies slip into his furniture and clothing certainly made his end quicker.

You knew he had a food taster, so you had to be careful to make it appear natural. A quiet conversation with Daemon had pointed you in the right direction.

Although it appeared to be natural, you knew that Otto's last days were a living hell. A fitting end for such a man.

With his death, you recommended Viserys make Lyonel Strong Hand again or even name Rhaenyra to be the Hand, as preparation for her future role.

His decision to name Rhaenyra as Hand is one of the only good decisions he's made.

It gives her more experience in governing the realm, particularly when he starts to become more frail.

After several years of this, she is confident in her role. She will be a magnificent Queen and you're truly honoured to be her consort.

#not team green friendly #male reader imagines #black reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #hotd imagines #rhaenyra targaryen imagines #my writing

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 2 years ago

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Hey can I do a daemon x velaryon!reader where she is his wife instead of laena and he comes to genuine love her through the years more than anyone they decide to come back to kings landing for laena funeral and the reader start to notice how rhaenyra starts at daemon through the entire funeral. Reader go to talk with her kids ( maegor, rhaegar, and baelon) to introduce to their cousin and she notice that daemon has left and she can’t find rhaenyra. Reader brush off her worries because she trust daemon. Later through the accident with the kid she is in the hall when she sees daemon and rhaenyra walk through she notice rhaenyra looks a bit messed up like her hair and clothes and looks at daemon. Daemon can’t even look at the readers eyes because he knows she will figure out. After everyone goes to bed she want to ask the truth but finds out that’s her brother laenor has died, reader out of grief and sadness decide to stay at driftmark for few days with her parent and tells daemon she will meet him and the children at dragonstone. Daemon and rhaenyra marry each other at dragonstone and readers children literally fly out to driftmark all three of them and tell her what happened. Readers feels angry disgusted humiliated sadness , and she decide to stay at driftmark with her children and nieces and writes to daemon that if he comes and inch close to her or her children she will gladly feed him to her dragon( the cannibal), daemon still tries but her mother tells him to leave while he still can before she does something she won’t regret and how she regrets even letter her children marry daemon and rhaenyra. Couple years the kids has grown up her sons dragon are (greys ghost vervimathior and seasmoke her youngest claimed him after laenor death) and they go back to kings landing for luke positions and daemon sees her and immediately goes to talk with her ( he still loves her and want to work things out) rhaenyra doesn’t like this at all and follows him only for them to sees the reader talking to a little girl who is spit image of reader and daemon and daemon ask who the child is only to find out its their child (reader find out she was pregnant few days after founding out daemon and rhaenyra) daemon is angry that he misses his daughter birth but accept it since he deserve it. Rhaenyra ask for the girls name and reader smirks and says visenya

And some more angst please

Fire & Blood || D. Targaryen x Velaryon!reader

GIF by @redbelles DIVIDERS by @straywords

a/n: I absolutely love this thank u for the request!! p.s this is the longest piece of ff i’ve written 😭 also keep in mind some of the events from hotd don’t happen in this and the the timings are different! And for the sake of my tiktok acc i’m making Elys as fc for the reader to make it easier for me to make tiktoks abt this!

Your darling sister. She is dead. You broke down in your bedchambers as Daemon came up to you, engulfing you in a comforting hug as you continued sobbing. “Shh” Your husband ushered, trying to calm you down.

It absolutely broke Daemon’s heart seeing the person he loved most in his entire life so broken. He wiped the tears away as he planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Her funeral is to be held tomorrow, so rest my love” He whispers against your hair as you sniffle, moving your legs to your bed, Daemon soon following.

“She wanted to die a dragon rider’s death, not on her birthing bed” You quietly spoke, your back turned to Daemon, his hand laid rest on your hip drawing circles. “I know sweet girl” He replied. Your hand coming to his to squeeze it before moving closer to him.

She was gone. The emotions started rolling in as her casket submerged in the water. You sobbed as Daemon pulled you in to his chest, kissing your forehead.

You wrapped your arms around his torso as your three children clung to your dress. “Stay strong” He rubbed your back as you wipe your tears and face the front again.

Your heart broke seeing your nieces, Baela and Rhaena comforted by your mother. You also saw Rhaenyra and her two boys, Her eyes seemed to be fixated on the man beside you before she gives a small smile to you.

“Have you seen the children?” You walk up to Daemon, his eyes somewhere else. He doesn’t reply making you furrow your eyebrows. “Daemon.” You call out again, his eyes moving from the side to your eyes.

Your gaze follows where his eyes were and you lock eyes with Rhaenyra. Turning back around, Daemon looks down at his cup. “Do you know where our children are Daemon” You repeat, “They’re over there” He gently moves your shoulders towards the direction of the boys.

He wraps his arms around your waist and gives you a kiss, “I want to introduce them to their cousins,” You say, holding his hand on your shoulder as he smiles sweetly to you. “That’s a great idea.”

Walking up to your boys, Maegor, Rhaegar, and Baelon, you hug them all giving them kisses on their forheads. “My sweet boys, I want you to meet your cousins” You say to them as you lead them to Rhaena and Baela. You look around to find Daemon but he was no longer where he was.

“Auntie,” A voice calls out as you turn your head and spot Lucerys. Confused, you still give a smile and crouch to his level. “What is it Luke?” You question, “Have you seen my mother? She’s not here” At his words, you look around and he was right. Rhaenyra was nowhere to be found.

“Uh, I’m sure she is somewhere close by. Stay with me if you’d like” You kindly smile to the dark haired boy as he nods. You completely trusted Daemon. Though not the same could be said about Rhaenyra.

Your eyes take in the sight infront of you. Aemond infront of a maester as he stitched up his eye, Luke with a bloody nose and the disheveled appearance of your nieces who were in the arms of your mother Rhaenys.

You were accompanied by your three boys, Daemon was still nowhere to be found and you had been waiting in your bedchambers for him but he never returned.

The big doors suddenly open as Rhaenyra came into view. Her hair messy and her clothes untidy. What shocked you the most was Daemon who appeared behind her. He leaned against the door, his eyes looked around but they never met with yours.

You felt a string pull your heart, a pull of sadness. No, that wasn’t right. Daemon wouldn’t do that to you, or his children who he dearly loves.

You had no doubt of his loyalty. But you did remember how in the early years of your marriage that he was always cold to you. That was when you found out he was in love with his then 18 year old niece.

You were no stranger to the Targaryen’s customs in keeping their blood pure. But as the years went on and you produced heirs for Daemon and created a family, he no longer longed for Rhaenyra, but you instead.

A loud gasp escapes your lips as Alicent charges at Rhaenyra with a blade. Your eyes couldn’t help but notice how Daemon slightly moved, like he was contemplating in stepping in but stayed.

After the whole ordeal, Viserys ordered everyone back into their rooms. Your eyes tried to find Daemon but it was too crowded to see where he was. “Where’s father?” Your youngest, Baelon, questioned as you caress his cheek.

“I will find him, go with your brothers to your rooms” You say as they nod and leave. Before you could move further, you were pulled by the hand.

“Father-“ “Your brother is dead” You blink a few times, processing Corlys’ words. “I-“ You were shocked to say the least. How could this day get worse. Losing both your siblings in a span of a day. “H-how?” You stutter as you hug your father.

“We found him in the fireplace, a quarrel of some sort we believe” He says quietly. You knew he was trying his best to keep his composure. “Where’s mother?” You say looking up at him as he looks away.

“Your mother is not in great condition-“ “I will stay here,” You interrupt him, “for a few days atleast” You were both in shock and grief and wanted to stay in the comforts of your home with your parents.

Corlys gives a sad smile and nods his head, “Your mother would like that very much.” He says before a tear drops and he is once again in your embrace.

“The boys will go with you back to Dragonstone where I will meet you in a couple of days” You sadly smile, your hands locked with Daemon’s as he nods giving a quick peck on your lips.

Maegor, Rhaegar, and Baelon rush towards you engulfing you in a hug as Daemon watches. “Be good as always” You whisper to them as they nod and you watch as their boat leaves, Daemon on Caraxes as he soars in the sky.

After a few days at home in Driftmark, you had yet recieved any letters from your husband, Daemon. Usually he would write to you when you were apart but nothing had arrived.

“Princess, your sons are here” A handmaiden knocks on the door as you look towards your mother, you had not been expecting them. You hurriedly walk outside, Rhaenys close behind as your boys come running to you.

Worried and confused, you hug all three of them. “What is it? Where is your father?” You ask them as they exchange looks at one another. “Father married Rhaenyra!” Baelon lets out as your eyes widen.

“W-what?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Daemon, your loving husband marrying his niece Rhaenyra. No. “It is true mother, we watched father marry Rhaenyra” Your eldest, Maegor quietly said as tears started forming in your eyes.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of betrayal and disgust. How dare Rhaenyra marry your husband after your brother died not long ago. “They killed my son, your brother y/n, so that they could marry” Your mother said through gritted teeth. A few tears roll down your cheeks as you hug your boys. They were your everything.

“We will be staying here from now on” You could tell your sons felt a sense of betrayal and hurt, as much as you did. They watched their own father marry their second cousin. Later that day, you decided to write a letter to Daemon. In the letter, you wrote that if he dared to come anywhere close to you or your children, you would not be afraid to feed him to your dragon, the Cannibal.

Not even a week later, the man had the nerve to show up at Driftmark. You had to ensure your dragon wasn’t anywhere close as he would have killed Daemon right there and then. You refused to go out and talk to him so your mother did.

You listened and watched from an open window, “I commend you for your bravery Daemon for showing up here. Though this will be your last time you ever set foot here at Driftmark or anywhere close to my daughter. I deeply regret letting my children marry you and Rhaenyra!” Rhaenys fumed as Daemon listened.

He continued to say nothing before nodding and turning around, making eye contact with you as you stare at him with no emotion. His eyes however, showed regret and sadness but you brushed it off.

6 years later…

You scoff at your mother’s words. “Luke is no true Velaryon and everyone knows that,” You stand up from your seat as Maegor looks at you. “My eldest, Maegor, is the rightful heir to the Driftmark throne, he is of my blood, true Velaryon blood”

As much as you liked the young boy, the matter of your son’s righteous title was on the line. You knew everyone would be on your side, apart from of course Rhaneyra. “Daemon would be an idiot to deny that his own flesh and blood is the heir to the Driftmark throne”

His name in your mouth was odd. You say his name with such disgust. “I would agree but he seems to be blinded by Rhaenyra now” Rhaenys gives a knowing look to her daughter.

You roll your eyes. Daemon had infact two sons with Rhaenyra and one still born daughter. Rumours had spread around saying that she gave birth to a half dragon.

“Viserys is dead, I hear Alicent and her father now rule before her son is crowned King. I dislike her truly, but she only has the right mind when it comes to birthrights” You smirk as your mother nods.

“We will travel to King’s Landing to take back what is rightfully yours Maegor” You place your hands on his shoulders as he nods at you.

“Prepare the dragons, we leave in the morrow.”

“My sweet girl!” You beam as you run up to your daughter, scooping her up in your arms. You had found out you were expecting a couple days after Daemon left Driftmark for good.

It saddened you at the same time as Daemon had always wished for a daughter and here she was, but he was in no position to be able to call her his daughter.

You gave your dragon, the Cannibal, pets as you had your daughter in front of you, gripping on the saddle. You take off and you smile at the sight beside you, Maegor on Vermithor, Rhaegar on Grey Ghost, and Baelon on Seasmoke, you late brothers’ dragon.

The sight was menacing and frightened everyone at Kings Landing. You smirk at the sight of all the dragon keepers scrambling around as you and your boys land your dragons.

“Touch any of them and my dragon will feed on you” You call out as Baelon snickers. “Ah, Princess, what a lovely delight to see you” Alicent acknowledges you and your children with a smile.

“Like wise, I am here to discuss my eldest Maegor’s birthright claim to Driftmark” You say as the Queen nods, “Of course, an audience is held today on that matter” “Thank you” You bow at her before you and your children walk into the Red Keep.

How dull the place was. It was cold and grey, definitely not fit for raising a family. You valued your years at Driftmark with your family. It was filled with nothing but happy memories after you completed your family. You often remembered how much Daemon disliked this place, saying that it was more of a prison than a castle.

“Who’s side are you on Daemon?” Rhaenyra shouts at him, Daemon was sat on a chair with his left hand massaging his temple. “I’m on no one’s side!” He yells frustratedly.

“But you know deep down Rhaenyra that your boy is no Velaryon, having him sit on the Driftmark throne is nothing but disrespectful and wrong. And you know that” He points at her.

Baffled at his husband’s words she spoke up, “It’s because he’s your son isn’t it?” She spat out. Daemon does nothing but groan and stand up.

His marriage with Rhaenyra was crumbling. At first it was perfect, an uncle who once longed for his niece was nothing but a memory. He was not happy as he used to be during his marriage with Rhaenyra, quite the opposite with you, he soon found out.

He remembers how he used to lust for Rhaenyra when she was all but a maiden, but now, she was a mother who birthed 5 children. She was different to what he wanted to believe.

He thought he could chase his younger days when Rhaenyra was in her late teens. But he was wrong. They were both dragons who clash all the time. He missed you. The simpler and happy days unlike the days he was going through in King’s Landing.

Constant fighting and being at each others throats. They both knew they were out of love for each other. “He is of Velaryon blood, is he not? His mother is a true blood making him heir” He retaliates, this argument going on for far too long.

“And you forget that Luke’s father is of true blood too!” Rhaenyra fires back, knowing her words were lies. This made Daemon laugh, “Lucerys is no son of Laenor, nor is Jacaerys or Joffrey. How long are you going to keep up this facade Rhaenyra?” The princess said nothing, she was infuriated with Daemon, as always.

You walk through the halls of the Red Keep with only your boys with you. The people who walked past awkwardly stare at you and your sons, some handmaidens of Rhaenyra most likely.

You wore a deep blue dress that cinched your waist and was a square neck exposing your collarbones. Your boys grew up into spitting images of Daemon, and so was your daughter.

The doors to the throne room opened infront of you as everyone turned their heads to your direction. You spot Alicent and her father infront of the Iron throne, her children to the left. Your mother had also arrived and brought along your nieces.

Your eyes then lock with Daemon’s for the first time in 6 years. You quickly look away from him and look at Rhaenyra who was throwing daggers your way. Maegor stares at Lucerys who shifts closer to his mother making him chuckle.

You stop in between the greens and blacks. Ever since you stepped into the room, Daemon’s eyes never left yours. You looked happy, and more alive than he felt. He then looks towards his three boy, all grown up and taller than you.

He adored them, they were his first children after all. “We gather today to discuss the rightful heir to the Driftmark Throne-“ Otto loudly says before interrupted Rhaenyra.

“Which is obviously Lucerys” She butted in making you look at her, “Speak when spoken to Princess,” Alicent calmly says making her look back to the front. “Princess y/n, state your case” Otto nodded to you.

All eyes were on you as you speak up, “If my son, Maegor was to cut his veins, pure Velaryon blood would spill out. If I was to cut Lucerys’, all but Velaryon blood would spill” You turn your head to Rhaenyra.

“Is that a threat Princess?” She sneered, holding her arm out infront of Luke as Daemon stood back without saying anything. “Would you like it to be? Your son is no Velaryon, everyone in this audience can agree. I will not have a fucking bastard sitting on my ancestral throne” You raise your voice, your body now facing hers.

“My brother would be ashamed of what is happening right now, he too knows that Maegor is the legitimate heir to the Driftmark throne. Not Lucerys.” You finish before turning back to the front, not before looking at Daemon who held a small smile.

“And to add to that, I have preposed a marriage between Maegor and Baela and Rhaegar and Rhaena” You smile towards your nieces as they smile back. Anger filled Rhaenyra. Ever since she saw your youthful looking face again, she couldn’t keep a scowl off her face.

Jealousy radiated off of her as she watched you walk down the stairs, you weren’t thickened in the waist unlike her even after birthing nearly the same amount of children, you didn’t have eyebags under your eyes and most of all, you seemed happy. Something she sought out from Daemon.

Rhaenyra also noticed the look Daemon gave her as she appeared, a look he hadn’t give her in a very long time. “Princess Rhaenyra, you may state your case”

And so she did, but it was filled with nothing but lies that she continued on. Everyone wore a bored expression as she defended her illegitimate son. A final ruling was put down, one that made Maegor heir to the Driftmark Throne.

After the crowds started filling out, Daemon had the urge to follow you and talk to you. He was no doubt still deeply in love with you. He thought marrying his niece would bring back the younger days he thoroughly enjoyed but no.

Instead, when he married her, only the days with you clouded his mind. Rhaenyra followed Daemon before they both stopped infront of an ajar door where their eyes widen in shock.

“Darling, come here” You crouched to meet her level as she wrapped her arms around your neck making soft giggles leave your mouth.

You were interrupted by the door opening. “Y/n…” Daemon started, his eyes on the little girl who looked too much like him. “What are you doing here” You questioned, placing your daughter back on the ground.

Before Daemon could speak up, Rhaenyra beat him to it, moving past him. “Who is she?” Rhaenyra questioned, you could have sworn you saw a glint of jealousy in her eyes as she looked at your daughter. “My daughter, Visenya” You proudly smirk.

You knew Rhaenyra had always wanted to name her daughter Visenya but the gods has other plans for her. “What a nice name” She shakily says before giving a tight lipped smile and rushing out of the room.

Your eyes then flicker towards Daemon who had an unreadable look on his face. “When did you find out” He questions calmly, closing the door.

“A couple days after you left Driftmark” You say in a monotone voice as Visenya busies herself with a toy. The two of you watch her as a small smile made itself on Daemon’s lips.

He hated himself so much. He hated how instead of being a faithful and loyal husband to the most beautiful soul, he decided to run after a childish dream.

“And you didn’t tell me? You didn’t think to inform your husband that you were pregnant with my child-“ “Don’t.” Your lips quiver as tears began to form. “You were not my husband. You were already married to Rhaenyra so why would I tell you?” You yell at him, your handmaiden quickly walking in to take Visenya.

“I know I made a stupid decision but she’s my child too! And you know how much I love our boys-“ He points to you, “You left them fucking traumatised! They had to watch their own father marry their second cousin. How fucked up is that?” Daemon stayed quiet at this.

You sigh before sitting down on the edge of your bed, “Does she even know who I am?” He quietly said, taking a seat beside you. “Of course not. She’s too young to understand and I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to tell her the truth” You look over to him.

He gulps but nods his head. “I understand” Daemon quietly says as you stand up. Smoothing out your dress, you start walking to the door. You give a final look towards Daemon, a single tear dropped before you quickly wipe it off and leave.

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #fanfiction #house targaryen #matt smith #hotd smut #daemon targaryen smut #game of thrones #laena velaryon #laenor velaryon

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lya-dustin · 4 months ago

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Kinslayer, Kingslayer, King

For @hoosbandewan

Aemond x Aegon’s wife! Laenor's daughter!reader(aka a black reader)

Cw: murder, fraticide, regicide, conspiracy, manipulation, infanticide(blood and cheese happened sorry), revenge, whatever murdering your husband is called. Some smut and knife play.

The reader came out rather evil and i love it

You play the dutiful wife all too well.

How could you not when you pretended to be the loyal daughter only to turn on the woman who birthed you for a crown?

Rhaenyra had deserved it, she killed your father to be with Daemon and then named your bastard brother heir over you, her only trueborn child and firstborn. Then there was what she allowed Daemon to do to your only child that night.

Aegon deserved it too, he never knew the woman he had and now he wouldn’t have you nor his crown either. Aegon who took everything for granted and then some more. He had taken you even if Aemond was the one you loved since you were children.

As far as you know, Aegon was the one who killed Rhaenys at Rook’s Rest.

Aemond will finally have what was owed to him.

“It looks better on you than it did, who would’ve thought Aegon’s head would be too small for such a burden.” You whisper as you light a candle to the Stranger.

Orwyle is too vigilant and good at his craft to allow the two of you the chance to finish the job, but nature will take its course soon enough. The moment he is dead, Aemond will seize the crown and you will be his in truth.

Once Aegon is dealt with and his mother put away to keep her from interfering with your glorious reign, you will rain fire and blood on your darling mother and her husband.

Jaehaerys had been killed by Daemon just as he once ordered the death of your father, Ser Laenor. Aemond wonders if Daemon knew the true parentage of the boy seeing he went after him in the first place. Perhaps the man did and that is why your sweet little son was beheaded in his sleep along with his nurse.

You want blood and to salt their wounds as they beg for mercy you will not give.

Aemond will give you another son, one who will not have Aegon named as his father, one that will be king after him. You have always wanted to name your son Aemon. A tribute to your grandmother, to your lineage, and most importantly a reminder that your claim was superior even to that of his dearly departed father.

Viserys and Aegon ruled because of the Great Council, but by tradition the throne should have passed to you had Rhaenys not been passed over for his father.

“Once your mourning period is over, we will be wed and crowned together. Grandsire should’ve have crowned you with him, those loyal to you would have come to our side and your mother left with no choice to surrender.” Aemond will keep this promise, he will not deny you what you are owed. Aegon had not cared about the insult to you, he never cared to respect you and keep his vows and always caved to their manipulative grandfather’s pressures.

Aemond was not weak like him, he rode the largest dragon, he was the true threat to your mother’s crumbling rule and his brother’s underserved crown.

His mother may hate him, but he had you. You who shared his drive and anger and loved him to his bones.

You forgave him for killing your brother, you understood it was an accident in his part, you will forgive him for killing Rhaenys to kill his brother.

“Six moons is too long, my love, I want to wed you now.” You kissed him with great passion, your loss had ignited a fire inside you so hot you no longer knew what to do with it. “I want a son; I need your seed to take once more. Daemon may have won the battle, but I will win this fucking war.”

“No, my darling, we will win this fucking war.” The Prince Regent does not deny you your desires and in the hour of the Wolf you threaten the handmaiden caring for Aegon that night to make his poppy milk strong enough to fell an elephant.

By morning you are a widow, by noon his mother is sent to Oldtown and by the end of the week the two of you are wedded and bedded.

You do not wear black or green, you wear red. Blood red and cut so low it was considered too scandalous for his pious mother. But no matter, those who speak against you will have to voice their complaints with your dragons, and your new husband was the most fearsome of the three.

The fear they have of the two of you keeps tongues from wagging, his mother looks horrified as you lick the dagger he feeds you the best of his plate like a brazen whore.

Alicent’s rule was over, yours had only just begun.

“A dragon cannot change it’s scales,” you use his own dagger to tease him, straddling him and riding him with a torturous pace.

“It is merely our nature.” The new king groans as the cold of the dagger trailing down his throat heightens his own pleasure. He wanted to take his time with you, but your wickedness knows no limits as you push him to the brink of madness.

Aemond is still lost in the haze of his climax, still sheathed inside you as he fills you with his seed, when his own dagger is stabbed into his black heart.

The last words he hears as he dies are, “Did you think I did not know who killed my grandmother, dear husband? Did you think I truly forgave you for killing my little brother and getting our baby boy murdered, sweet boy?

When i said I would win the war, i meant I, alone, would rule."

sequel: The Cruel

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #aemond targaryen x wife!reader #cw murder #ewan mitchell #hotd fanfic #aemond x black!reader

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yanderes-galore · 4 months ago

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I was surprised by how much I liked your platonic!Rhaenys Targaryen short, since I don't typically request platonic yanderes ☺️ Could we get a concept for platonic!Rhaenys, please?

🕊️ anon

Sure! I said Rhaenys Velaryon on the title to distinguish Rhaenys (Aegon I's wife) and Rhaenys (Corly's wife).

I'm so worried I butchered her character... so I'd appreciate feedback to write her better! For now, just put down little thoughts I had. I love her... just wish I knew how to write her.

Yandere! Platonic! Rhaenys Targaryen/Velaryon Concept

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Blood, Murder, Isolation, Death, Paranoia, Major canon character death mentioned, Fear of loss/death, Dubious companionship.

Rhaenys seems like she'd be fiercely protective of those she cares about.

More specifically... those she views as her children or something similar.

Related to her directly or not, Rhaenys is devoted.

She seems like she'd be a very attentive mother, aunt, grandmother, etc....

She is shown to care for her family.

She loves her husband, she loves her children, she loves her dragon.

Rhaenys would keep her obsession on Driftmark with her.

You could be related to her... or even a young servant she felt protective towards.

Rhaenys seems like one of the more moderately intimidating yanderes.

She isn't quite as kind and peaceful as Viserys, but she isn't hungry for violence like Daemon.

She's in the middle, often planning tactically to take on situations.

While she would be caring... she can be stern.

Rhaenys would love a Dragonrider obsession.

If you're not... even then I can still see Meleys being just as protective of you as her rider.

Rhaenys would keep her obsession in Driftmark, although... if the Dance started... she'd tolerate keeping you at Dragonstone with Rhaenyra.

Rhaenys feels she plays a big part in your life.

She'd be very caring whenever you're around.

I also imagine Rhaenys would want a say in your betrothal partners.

After all, she's quite the protective one.

Rhaenys can be just as fierce as her dragon, Meleys.

She's often calm, yet always planning how to keep you safe and happy.

She views herself as a guardian to you, after all.

You have your freedoms, yet Rhaenys expects you to stay where she is.

Be that Driftmark or Dragonstone, she wants you in sight.

If you aren't, not even Corlys can sway her from searching for you.

While you have your freedoms, Rhaenys knows how to give you your punishments too.

She'd never hurt you, but I can see her discipline you by isolating you in your chambers.

Y'know, like being grounded?

It's humiliating how she treats you like you know no better...

But it gets the message across in her eyes.

If you ran from her or left to join The Greens, Rhaenys will not hesitate to use Meleys to find you.

She will drag you back home kicking and screaming through dragoon fire if she has to.

You will not aid The Greens or run from her in any way.

Rhaenys likes to treat you as one of her children regardless of your relations.

She dislikes Daemon speaking with you, seeing him as a poor influence due to how impulsive he is.

She worries when Corlys suggests taking you on ships to learn the seas, wanting to keep you with her at Driftmark.

Even during the war, Rhaenys keeps a close eye on you.

She's careful with you, especially when she loses Laena and Laenor.

In fact, Rhaenys would just get worse when she loses her son and daughter.

Before then she was always protective yet loving towards you.

Yet when she loses her children?

The older woman clings to you... scared to lose you.

Even more so when she thinks Rhaenyra killed Laenor.

Similar to Rhaenyra, I can see Rhaenys having some trust issues after the deaths of her children.

She doesn't betroth you because she's scared to lose you.

If you are female, she'd be scared to lose you in childbirth.

If you are male, she'd probably be scared to lose you in the war.

Either way, Rhaenys is a bit paranoid of losing you too.

Whenever you're with Rhaenyra, Rhaenys is close by.

However, despite the Laenor incident, she eventually knows she has to trust Rhaenyra with you for your safety.

Oh, if anyone did hurt you?

Gods forbid if you were killed?

Rhaenys promises Fire and Blood with Meleys for revenge.

Does it go against orders? For once, she doesn't care.

You mean too much to her.

If Rhaenys is platonic over you, I bet even Corlys is to a degree.

The two are quite a healthy power couple... Rhaenys would probably get him to help with your care in Driftmark.

Rhaenys would keep you out of the war for as long as she can.

She's seen children die, Rhaenyra's especially.

No one can convince her to send you out to fight.

Be that commanding a fleet or riding a dragon... Rhaenys will stay against it.

If you're a servant she doesn't have to worry about that.

Rhaenys may originally be wary of you meeting Meleys, but Meleys is aware of how much you matter to the queen who never was.

The large red dragon often greets you with a trill, gently caring for you with Rhaenys in sight.

This shared care Rhaenys has with her dragon is what allows Meleys to risk anything to protect you both.

Rhaenys doesn't flinch at the deaths of those who cross her.

Any who cross her or you are fed to Meleys.

She takes your well-being very seriously.

Rhaenys always gives you advice and life lessons, she's lived a long time after all.

She warns you to be cautious and to come to her for issues.

Rhaenys always wants to know where you go.

You aren't even sent anywhere to be a diplomat.

It may be selfish... but Rhaenys can't lose anymore of what she loves.

She'll do anything to keep you under her care, including lock you in Driftmark or Dragonstone until you learn it's for the best.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #yandere asoiaf #yandere rhaenys targaryen #yandere rhaenys velaryon

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endless-ineffabilities · 1 year ago

Text

Maroon (part three)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

You were standin' hollow-eyed in the hallway Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us

a/n: proposed ages of the characters in this series - Viserys (64), Daemon (55), Alicent (53), Rhaenyra (44), Aemond (26), Helaena (25), Daeron (22), Aegon (30), Lucerys (22), Jacaerys (25), Joffrey (15), Alys (35) ---- as much as I'd like to pretend this took 5 minutes... heh. The Math simply wasn't Mathing for a long while. Anywho, just thought I'd write this in since I've aged up the characters.

Also - with all the time I've spent on this fic, I've decided to ultimately restructure part three. So part four will cover the night of the Dragonstone ball, where it's all about to go down.

themes/warnings: angst!, mutual pining, jealous!Aemond, language, description of accident/injury, Aemond in his stalker era

word count: 8.7k

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Everything that occurs leading up to the Dragonstone ball - the outcome of the accident, Aemond struggling with his current state, and the reader left hoping for a love, that perhaps, never truly was.

Lucerys Velaryon has already garnered quite the reputation, at only 22 years old.

A darling of the masses, everyone loved the young heir to Driftmark, a great company built by his grandfather, the notorious shipping tycoon, Corlys Velaryon.

But having the name Velaryon is a double-edged sword for Luke.

It only increases his privilege and prestige, already being a Targaryen on his mother’s side. Luke is set for life; he has everything he could ever need at his disposal. As a young boy, he has always enjoyed cars. Tinkering with them under the guidance of his father Laenor, as well as his uncle Daemon. Luke got himself into kart racing at the age of 9. Illegal street racing, much to his mother’s disappointment, at the age of 14. And just recently, he has been competing in Formula 2 division racing.

From the outside, he is just like any other boy. Apart from the fact that his family is literally worth billions, that is.

But Luke has never been content. He has never been self-assured, borne out of the truth, one that everyone simply chooses not to mention, that Laenor Velaryon is not his true father. That he is a bastard, and therefore, not the rightful heir to Driftmark. He has always known this, despite his mother’s pleas otherwise. He knows this each time he hears the employees of Driftmark whisper amongst themselves after he passes by. Whenever he is invited to sit in the council meeting of the company, he feels his true status in how the shareholders disregard his opinions like he’s just some intern.

He grew up amidst the tension between himself and his brothers, and their young uncles, especially Aemond. When Aemond and Lucerys were growing up together, they simply did not learn to exist well around one another. Luke had bullied his young uncle long ago - an act of rebellion, of a boy growing up with resentment in his bones - when Aemond had been weak and scrawny as a child. Aemond retaliated in kind; but he finally matured and found some inner calm in his mid-twenties. A year or two before you met him.

Luke's uneasiness has only worsened, now that he is nearly set to take his place on Driftmark. Since his family hails from Valyria, everyone expects them to uphold the tradition of only passing down inheritance to rightful heirs. Never bastard children or outliers.

But what the hell. Luke has never been one to follow the rules. His very existence does not abide by them, so why should he?

The night of the accident, Luke had to sit in yet another board meeting for the company. This time, Aemond was there too. Only he was treated as he should, being a Targaryen. Like someone capable, someone worthy.

It should not have made any difference, really. Luke thought he was used to it all by now - the stares, the hushed whispers, the poorly masked scorn. They think Aegon or Aemond to be more competent. If the board had their way, it would not be Luke who would inherit Driftmark. Perhaps, his grandfather’s brother, Vaemond. Or hell, even his cousins Baela and Rhaena, though they never expressed any interest in the business.

Anyone but Luke.

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

As a child, Aemond Targaryen saw himself as some kind of a ghost. A spectre simply moving around his family, their company, their horde of sycophants. Not the first to be considered. Not the designated heir to anything. The second son of the owner and chief executive of Dragonstone, and his much younger, barely beloved second wife.

Once upon a time, his father Viserys had been well and truly happy.

He was married to the love of his life, Aemma, and they had a lovely daughter who was loved by all due to her charm and fiery nature.

When Aemma passed in childbirth, Viserys had been near inconsolable. But he could not remain so for very long. Soon enough, his board of trustees, his advisors, urged him to remarry. He did not have an heir yet after all, and as per tradition, he soon needed to have a son so that he might raise him to become the next CEO and owner of their business empire.

But Viserys decided to essentially bypass such tradition, for less than a year after his wife’s passing, he had publicly announced his only daughter as his successor. It did not matter what the board of trustees or the shareholders preferred. They may have considerable sway over the affairs of the company, but in the end, the word of Viserys prevails.

And so Aemond and his three siblings have been pushed to the periphery. Not that they ever stood a chance anyway. In the end, their father will always uphold his precious Rhaenyra over them. Their mother plays the part of a mere trophy wife, though she is a noble Hightower herself, having to feign contentment in spite of all the times she and her children are slighted.

Aemond thought himself calmer now, and matured. Painstakingly made every effort to be far from that weak boy who had no place anywhere. He is still unsure if he likes the person that he is, and perhaps he never has. But he morphed - or masked - this self-loathing into an unfailing desire to do better, to be better. He’s always wanted more. And he has learned to be strong for his mother, his sister. Himself.

And now, you. How unpredictable you had been, bursting into his life like the Dornish comet of ‘07. He knew early on that you liked him, sort of, with how your eyes would dart back and forth to his direction whenever he’s in the room.

It made him uneasy, at first, when his looks developed in such a way that garnered him plenty of attention. The spectre of the city turned ‘Prince of the city’, a strapping young man who can have anyone he wishes.

But, funnily enough, all those socialites, models, glorified urban princesses with millionaire parents, Aegon’s harem of traditionally near-perfect friends from Lys that he often offers - none of them ever stood a chance to you, his sister Helaena’s earnest, gentle, and quick-witted best friend.

Aemond would be lying if he said he fell for you immediately. It would be far from his nature to do such a thing. But he had, slowly, found himself enveloped in your light, and only feeling warm, only feeling home - only feeling like he could truly love himself - when you look at him with those soul-piercing eyes of yours. Maybe he isn’t so bad after all, if you can see him in the way you do. And he trusts your judgement; when you profess to want him in turn, then he must be worth more than he thinks.

But the night of the accident, his forsaken shadow seemed to envelop him like an old friend. One that he can never shake. His anger, his darkness. He had long buried the Aemond Targaryen who frequently got into fistfights. The Aemond who deliberately ordered the expulsion of certain people he simply did not like from the employ of their company. The Aemond who chose to openly mock the truth of his raven-haired cousins’ parentage.

That night, that Aemond resurfaced, and with dire consequences.

The night of the accident, four months before the Dragonstone ball

The storm had begun just before the board meeting ended. Heavy rain spattered against the Driftmark tower, with the night sky illuminated by streaks of lightning.

Aemond and Lucerys were coming to a head at the council table, and the other members were having to intervene at multiple points, just to mitigate the rising tension. The storm brewing inside the young men’s hearts could easily rival the one threatening to flood the streets.

Lucerys repeatedly interrupted Aemond’s suggestions, having grown tired of his own being cast aside by everyone else.

“Wait for your turn to speak, my Strong nephew.” Aemond smoothly countered when he did not get to finish addressing Vaemond Velaryon.

“I didn’t think what you were saying was particularly important, uncle.” Luke retaliated in kind.

“Hmm. Some things never change, it seems. You still don’t know your place.”

“My place will soon be the highest seat of Driftmark. And you will still be grandfather’s second son, a mere placeholder at Dragonstone.”

“Please, sirs,” the meeting director complained. “We must get on with more urgent matters.”

Aemond and Luke barely contribute for the remaining minutes, opting to glare and sneer at each other from across the table.

But their council tiffs would not end up being the most unpleasant occurrence for that night. As if the storm also cast its darkness over their reasoning, they soon found themselves racing towards Gods Eye.

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

It was meant to be a game. A show of bravado. Two young men, though in their depths still wounded boys, found themselves spewing offenses in an attempt to lower the other.

“You might inherit Driftmark, but everyone knows the truth, plain as day. You will always be a bastard.”

“Sure, but I am still more than you. What have you ever truly accomplished, uncle? Poor y/n, if she’s fallen for your tricks. Does she know who you truly are? She’s too bloody good for you.”

When Luke raised the challenge of racing to the edge of the cliff of Gods Eye, Aemond grasped at the opportunity to humiliate his nephew. To prove all of his claims to be wrong.

It might have been either one of them, or both, who deigned to edge their car close to the other’s, trying to veer it off course. Just a little nudge to make it spin out of the road.

But the turbulent weather was strong, causing mud and water to pool along the gravel. When the cars collided, Aemond’s took the brunt of the hit. Before he could even register the impact, his car was already spinning right towards the treeline.

Luke had veered off road, his car rotating upside down. His right leg suffered from multiple fractures, including a busted knee cap.

But Aemond…

His screams resounded despite the ceaseless pattering of rain, louder than even the roaring thunder overhead. A shard of glass had been wedged deep on one side of his face, splitting the flesh open.

So much blood had pooled into his one remaining eye, that he feared he went entirely blind. The memory of your face flashed across his mind, and he despaired at the thought of never being able to see you again.

Later in the operating room, when the full extent of his injuries was delineated to him, Aemond thought that perhaps, it is you who would never want to see him again.

Why would you, with what has now become of his appearance?

Two months before the Dragonstone ball

You’re finding it hard not to keep tabs on Aemond, still asking Helaena every now and then if he’s really alright. To which she always responds with some version of “He’s okay. He just needs some time.”

Time. That’s fine. You suppose that the accident must have shaken him up, enough to cause him to go into hiding and to avoid everyone.

Unfortunately… painfully, including you.

You find your mind drifting back to him every day - during your lectures, at work, at home, whenever you’re spending time with Helaena and you’re trying so hard to simply not just pester her about her brother.

You think back to those secret moments you shared in crowded rooms, up in their penthouse, whenever Aegon would throw a party. Back then, you did not know one another yet, not really. But he would sit on the couch adjacent to yours, shoot you a smile, and silently keep you company while you wait for Helaena to return. He did so because he could sense that you were anxious, and that loud gatherings aren’t really your thing, as he revealed to you when you were… dating. As short of a time as that might have been.

Gradually, you got to know him, in all those rare moments. His knowing, mischievous smiles. The subtitles nuances in his expression. His calculated manner of speaking.

You knew him, you had him, you lost him. Well, you do still know him - he is your friend, is he not? But it just as well could have been the end, the night of the accident. He has become a kind of spectre to you, leaving you yearning for what could have been.

Weekends offer some respite from the whole ordeal of having to miss him. Your job at the bookstore allows you to just sit in silence, entertain customers once in a while, and bury your nose in your book-of-the-week.

Once in a while, a friend even drops by. This time, Jace burst through the entryway, bell chiming in his wake, beaming with a brown takeaway bag in one hand.

“Hey, stranger,” you put down your novel, and leave your post on the counter to greet your dear friend with a tight hug. Jace takes note of the fact that your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, and his spirits sink. But he immediately gets to work on making you feel better.

“I’d say you’re going to love me for this, but you probably do already,” he says, presenting you with the paper bag.

“Don’t be so sure,” you jokingly say, narrowing your eyes at him, before peering inside, hit with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries.

You shrug, starting to dig in with no hesitation. “Actually, good of you to be sure.”

He laughs as you drop the bag on the counter, and rip it open to reveal all the goods. He takes his own coffee and leans closer to have a bite of the profiterole you eagerly wave in front of his face.

“Thanks,” you manage to puff out, with a mouthful of pastry.

“Anytime, sweet.” Jace swallows, giving you a once over. “How are you holding up?”

It’s hard to act all nonchalant when he gives me those puppy-dog eyes. Jace’s innate sincerity almost makes you want to just cave in and vent all about Aemond. “Nice of you to be concerned, but it’s not like I was the one who got into an accident.”

“I know, sassy, but I also know that you and Aemond were… you have seen him recently, no?” he asks, sounding certain of the answer to his question, which downright confuses you.

“No,” you shake your head. “Along with the rest of the city, I haven’t seen nor heard anything from him.”

“Really?” he remarks, incredulous.

“Come on, Jace,” you take a comforting sip of coffee, still warm. “You know this. He doesn’t want to see me.”

“Huh,” his head tilts back slightly as he mulls over your response. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“I could’ve sworn that was his car parked across the street. Right outside.” he says, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You freeze, but your eyes are drawn straight toward the shop windows.

“That’s not - ,” That’s not possible, you want to say. But your feet already drag you to the edge of the shop, with Jace in tow. “Which one is his?” you ask, knowing Aemond’s got quite a few cars, privileged boy that he is. Your voice comes out in a hushed tone, as if you don’t want Aemond himself to hear. Ridiculous, you chide yourself, it probably isn’t even him.

“That silver Jaguar idling on the curb,” Jace answers, and you see it. Slantwise on the opposite side of the road, stopped right before the bus stop across the bookshop.

“Are you sure?”What the hell could he be here for? You didn’t want to admit it, but you feel the hope right in your bones. You want him here, of course. You want him to come see you.

“Yes,” Jace easily replies. “There’s only one vehicle in the city with that personalized plate."

Before you can stop yourself, you take a tentative step outside, hand still on the shop door.. I’m sure he can see me, if he’s really there.

The windows of the Jaguar have the darkest tint, making it nearly impossible to see inside.

“That’s him,” Jace says from behind you. “He doesn’t let anyone else drive his cars. I even thought he was already inside the shop when I arrived.”

“Well shit,” you breathe, your heart racing in your chest. “What do I do?”

“What is he doing?”

“Fuck it.” You only manage to take a step forward on the sidewalk before the car roars to life, engine purring smoothly. Aemond maneuvers the car from its spot and leaves, driving right past you, a cloud of leaves and dust billowing all around.

“What the fuck?” Jace scoffs, thoughtfully waving his arm around to keep the dust from your face. “What is he on?”

“Aemond,” his name escapes your lips in a soft whisper. A silent plea that will never reach him, but you say it all the same. That it doesn’t matter to you, whatever state he is in after the accident. That even though he chose Alys over you, you can understand, or at least try to. He is still the same boy who captured your heart not so long ago.

But why did he just leave? What is he so scared of?

“Come on,” Jace says, holding the door open for you. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

When you go past the entryway, you turn on your heel and hang up the ‘On a break. Come back soon’ sign on the door. Sighing heavily, you shrug at Jace, “What a day, huh. You sure know how to bring drama with you.”

Jace only smiles, well-used to your banter, “How is this my fault?”

“I dunno,” you raise your hands, and walk back to the counter. You’re not sure how you feel at the moment - anxious, worried, disappointed? It’s all up in a haze since Aemond suspiciously drove off, and so, you can’t control the flood of dry sarcasm spilling out of you. Like some kind of coping mechanism. “You must have called Aemond here, so you two can drive my poor heart into a frenzy. Like I don’t already have a lot on my plate.”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Jace slowly nods, playing along. “Aemond hasn’t even spoken to me since everything went down. But I definitely sought him out today, and definitely forced him to watch you from out there in his car like some obsessed creep.”

“I knew it!”

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

Fifteen minutes into your impromptu break, the tone has lightened to some degree, and you sit at a corner table with Jace, sipping the remains of your coffee.

After a lot more banter, and catching up about Luke, Joff, and the rest of his family - those who can still tolerate your presence,that is - Jace finds you staring blankly at a bookshelf. “Hey,” he says, “I don’t think my uncle is hiding in between those books.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Anyway, enough about him, eh?” Jace offers, taking your hand from across the table. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

You squeeze his hand in return, staring back into his doe brown eyes, “Yeah?”

“Seeing as Aemond isn’t taking you to the Dragonstone ball,” he pauses, gauging your reaction. He decides that it’s all good when you remain impassive, “How would you like to come with me instead? I did mean to ask you, you know, but dear uncle beat me to it.”

“Oh.” Your hand loosens around his a bit, as you take in his words. “Well, I mean I would love to but - ”

Jace adds quickly, as if he is already reading the thoughts whirring through your mind. “No pretenses about it, I assure you. I’m not expecting anything else. Just that you honour me by being my partner to the ball.”

“Mmm,” your shoulders relax, and you find yourself smiling at Jace’s heartfelt nature. One that immediately warmed you to him when you first met. “Partners, huh?”

His tongue makes a clicking sound in confirmation. “What do you say?”

“Jace,” you start, weighing the options in your mind. “I would go with you, of course - ”

“That settles it then.”

“- but I just… I don’t know, if… Aemond does not want to see me, maybe I shouldn’t just show up at the ball?”

Jace rolls his eyes, “He doesn’t own the bloody ball, you know. He can’t control whether you come or not.” He leans in, voice lowering like he’s sharing a devious ploy, “Besides, if he doesn’t want to see you, then why would he be loitering across the street simply to watch you through the shop windows? Let’s be real now, eh?”

Fair point. You reply, “Far be it from me to know what he’s up to.”

“So come to the ball with me and ask him yourself. I’ll even back you up. With my own pitchfork and everything.” The way his eyes blaze in excitement sparks something in you. Being around Jace is always fun, like you’re free to do anything - you could even cause any kind of trouble and he would only be cheering you on.

If only… if only you liked him the way you do a certain someone, then you might actually have a greater sense of calm. Your self-doubt might be assuaged, your days brighter.

But no. It is Aemond who fills your wandering thoughts. Aemond who haunts your sleepless nights. It was him who nearly made your heart stop that night on their rooftop, who laughed with you and held you close when you were a fumbling, wine-stained mess.

Perhaps unfortunately so… it is Aemond whom you love.

That realization makes you straighten in your seat, scaring some sense back into you. Fuck, what am I even thinking? It’s Jace right in front of me. Jace who is asking me to the ball.

“You got yourself a deal, mister,” you playfully hold your hand out for him to shake.

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

Later that night, the Targaryen penthouse in the Crownlands Tower is relatively quiet. Most of the family is away, save for Helaena, their housekeeper Talia…

… and Aemond, who sits in front of his desk, staring at the object atop it which is aglow under lamplight. His eye drifts to the metal surface of the lampshade itself, and he sees it. A scar stretched from his forehead to his cheekbone, with its edges tinged with maroon.

Revolting. It’ll take some time to heal, they all say. Well it’s been two long fucking months, and it doesn’t feel any better. Nothing feels right.

It isn’t fair, his mother wailed upon seeing him. None of this is. It was the rogue Lucerys’ fault, she insisted, for egging Aemond to go on a damned speed chase in the middle of fucking storm.

His father Viserys merely appraised him for a long moment, before mumbling something that sounded like, “I am sorry this happened, but you’ll be alright”. Then to his mother, “Lucerys is injured as well. This is what they’ve always done, as you know. Luke and Aemond don’t really get along but they’re grown now.”

He added with a warning gaze to Aemond, “They have to learn to be civil to one another. We are all family, after all.”

“Family,” Alicent spat the word like a curse. “Family should not be the cause of grievous harm.”

Aemond remembers the shrug that Viserys did. It is a gesture he has seen endlessly, it might even be the first thing he remembers of his father. All of his pains, and his achievements will always be met with a nonchalant gesture. Some father he is.

There’s only one thing that would make Aemond feel better in this moment, and even that, he cannot allow himself to have. He shall not present himself, this self, to you. He looks at his reflection and he hates what he sees. Perhaps he always has. But he also learned to love himself around you. How easy it can be, like second nature.

Maybe he was drawn to the fact that you are not from his world, with all its intrigue and playacting. How you choose not to perceive status as a tool, and how you can be kind to anyone. You, the girl who always keeps a book in her bag, even at parties, even if she most likely won’t have time to read it. Just in case, you had said, you never know. You, though very well-mannered, called one of Helaena’s so-called friends a “spoiled cunt”, when you heard her making nasty jokes at Helaena’s expense behind her back.

“Sorry you had to hear that,” you had said to Aemond in a grumbling tone, still quite irate, when you found out that he was just in the library adjacent to their living room. “They were just being so… so…”

“Fucking rude?” he finished your thought, his dimples showing in amusement when your eyes widened. “Don’t worry, doll. Maybe I would have done the same. Though that Beatrice would never say shit about Helaena in front of me, seeing as she tried to claw off my jacket once. Her fake nail got caught in the leather. Her attempt at seduction, I suppose.”

Your mouth fell open, then closed once more. You were at a loss. Your blood was just boiling at having to confront Beatrice, who has thankfully left the penthouse, and now Aemond is standing in front of you. Aemond, sharing some story, in good humour. About some girl trying to get with him, and failing. Later on, you will find yourself jumping in frustration in your living room, thinking how in the hell your mind must have short-circuited because you responded with, “It’s a good thing I keep my fingernails trimmed and plain then.”

It was Aemond's turn to stand there, lips parted in surprise at your sudden show of audacity. Where has this girl been hiding all this time? Or has she always been this way? Then your face morphs into one of shock, and you remain still, waiting for some other pin to drop. Something to distract Aemond so you can mumble some excuse and run away. Aemond observes the minute changes in your expression, like you’re struggling to get your bearings, and he finds it all endearing.

Suddenly, the door you had been leaning against is pried open, making you take a step closer to Aemond. An unruly, blonde mop of hair that can only belong to Aegon pokes itself inside, “What are you nerds doing in the damn library?”, then he turns on his heel letting the door slowly close on its hinges, “Never mind, I’m gonna get a drink!”

At the exact same time, you and Aemond burst out in a fit of laughter, the pure and melodic sound of it echoing throughout the room. The very first time that Aemond witnessed you laughing freely in front of him, and his thoughts would later drift back to this moment. To the way your eyes lit up, how your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip to keep from laughing harder, and how your dainty hand clasped his forearm, holding on to him for a while.

He did not know then, not yet at least, that he had started falling for you.

When your desire had become apparent, you did not attempt to cross a line. Correctly inferring that Aemond valued his solitude, you became content with admiring him from afar, treasuring every small interaction.

Everyone keeps remarking at how different he is around you, and maybe you do not realize the truth of their claims, because you had never seen him… like this. So broken. His mask of composure torn to shreds.

No longer the caring, attentive, and self-assured Aemond you claimed to desire.

“Aemond?” Helaena's voice drifts from his door, which is opened narrowly. She silently lets herself inside when he does not respond.

“Care for some dinner?” she asks, her gentle voice almost breaking through Aemond’s resolve. Perhaps it might have been able to, but not anymore.

“No, I’m not hungry.” Aemond answers, barely audible.

“Right.” Helaena doesn’t press further; she knows that nothing will shake her brother while he’s in such a state, so she tries to bring up something else. Something that might get his attention. “So, I, uh… y/n just called me.”

Helaena notices Aemond slightly tense up at the mention of your name. So that’s what it takes, she thinks.

“Aemond,” she steps closer, now standing beside his chair. “Why were you outside the bookstore where she works?”

Aemond shuts his eyes. Of course you had seen him. And he saw you, clear as day. Beautiful as ever. With bloody Jace right next to you, laughing while sharing some coffee he had brought.

“She misses you, you know,” Helaena says, and the words drive straight through Aemond’s heart. “I really think you just should speak to her.”

“Hmm.”

“What are you even afraid of?”

A long pause, as Helaena waits for a reply. Fidgeting with the edge of her sweater, she begins to say something more, when Aemond finally says, in a muffled, reluctant tone, “She deserves better.”

“Of course she does!” Helaena perches on the edge of Aemond’s desk, and his eye drifts over her for just a second, before looking down at the object again. “So call her and - ”

“Better than me.” Aemond clarifies, croaking the final word as if in pain.

“Oh, Aemond.” Helaena’s lifts an arm in an attempt to offer comfort, but Aemond instinctively flinches.

“No.” He breathes. “I can’t.”

Helaena nods in understanding, though her heart aches at the sight of her brother like this. She looks to the side, and sees the journal-seeming object sitting on his brother’s desk. The thing he seems to be staring at.

Helaena lets her fingers run over the smooth forest green cover, and she instantly recognizes it to be Valyrian leather. A rare commodity, so this must not be just any ordinary journal.

“May I?” she whispers, to which her brother shrugs in response.

She gently pries open the leather clasp, and she sees a dedication on the first page, in a swooping scrawl that can only be Aemond’s. Some special ink was used, staining the page with a deep shade of maroon. It reads in High Valyrian, their native language - Ñuha prūmia iksis aōhon.

“I meant to give that to her… before…”

My heart is yours.

“Aemond-” Helaena mutters, her mind stuck on the words, and she knows exactly who they are meant for.

Aemond abruptly rises from his seat, and puts on his black coat, “Just put that back where you found it.” Reaching for something else on his desk, he puts it on his face to conceal his deformity.

Before her brother reaches the door, Helaena manages to voice out, “Where are you going?”

“Away.”

Two weeks before the Dragonstone ball

The accident finally seems to have departed from the mainstream, turning into fodder for small talk as all sensational news pieces do.

Unsurprisingly, despite the tragic event, excitement abounds. The city is buzzing in anticipation. Everyone is already poring over the main list of attendees which has been made public online. You only glanced at it once to confirm that you are on the list as Jace’s partner, but something else catches your attention. You immediately close the tab in your browser after you read - Aemond Targaryen - and across from his name, as his designated partner - Alys Rivers.

“For fuck’s sake,” you sigh, biting your lip. You opt to open Youtube, but immediately your homepage reminds you of your recent activities. Not stalking, no. Just some curious research. Aemond has never been one to give interviews. That’s more in Aegon’s wheelhouse. Daeron especially, since he also works as a model, gracing the front cover of Vogue thrice already at only 22.

When Aegon graces the headlines, it’s most likely due to some disorderly conduct at a high-class party or a local dive bar. True to his brand, there is no in-between when it comes to Aegon. It’s either go big or go home. Which usually means he ends up drunk on the sidewalk, having to call Aemond to pick him up and give him a ride without letting their parents know.

But they always find out, of course. It’s hard to be discreet when you’re one of the most recognizable faces in the country.

As for Aemond, you’ve always found it hard to find even a single crumb of him from the internet. Save for a couple of sightings, including those of him and Alys Rivers, and clippings from the few times when he would speak in press conferences on behalf of Dragonstone. But even those were kept mostly private, and not freely available on Youtube.

As it happens, there have been some rumours of Aemond allegedly coming into blows with the Duke of Lannister and his entourage, after humiliating the man’s sister. Onlookers claimed that they saw the poor girl coming onto Aemond at some party in Pentos, flirting with him. Apparently, he was far from welcoming of her affections. There were some pictures of the fight, or at least, that’s what people say. You were not in the loop when the news spread, sitting through a lecture. Any trace of such pictures quickly vanished from the internet. The Targaryens are always on the lookout to protect their precious image, but they’ve never done anything so methodical when it comes to such occurrences, such as Aegon’s countless mishaps.

Aemond does have an Instagram profile. You asked him about it once, ages ago, even before your brief - what would you call it… Tryst? Dating period? Well, whatever it was, it’s all done for now.

“Was it your idea to have a profile anyway?” you asked him, after he had playfully teased you about stalking him. That was the only verified account of Aemond’s that you found, complete with the blue tick. His profile was empty, and the following list was at a whopping zero. Though of course, he had about 3.7 million followers, just waiting for the moment that he would choose to do anything on the site.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Aemond looked down and smiled, and you did not know it, but he found himself feeling warm due to the interest you were giving him. He’s confident about nearly everything, but when on the receiving end of attention from the woman he secretly longed for, he felt almost shy. “It was mostly due to the fact that I wanted to have one sole verified account online. I’ve heard talks of impersonators sending people messages and all that. Fucking annoying.”

“Ah, yeah.” You did not tell him, of course, but you knew of those fake accounts, having clicked on several slightly convincing ones to see if they were actually his. But none of them matched. You found yourself muttering, “He would never post that.”

“Didn’t hurt that I got to look through your pictures, too, love.” He smirked then, regaining his confidence.

You nearly melted into a puddle on the fancy designer-carpeted floors of their apartment, right then and there.

That doesn’t matter now. You sigh, slamming your laptop shut. Instead you choose to dramatically jump onto your bed and growl your frustrations out onto a pillow.

You roll over, amused at the whole thing. The digital alarm clock Helaena gave you reads 6:32 pm, it’s a Friday night, and you’re left with nothing to do. You’ve already finished the majority of your exams, and for the next month or two, you’re free to go on holiday and do whatever you wish.

But what? You finally decide to give Helaena a call, and reach for your phone on the nightstand. But right then, it lights up. ‘Hel’s Bells’ is calling you. An inside joke the two of you came up with about a week after you met.

“Speak of the devil,” you smile, and press accept. “Hel! I hope you’re just about as bored as I am.”

She laughs on the other end, “I don’t even have time to be bored. Mother has us doing all these preparations for the ball.”

“Do you need any help? I’m no expert at pomp and pageantry but I’ll do my best.” She had just stayed at your apartment a few nights ago for a sleepover, and you noticed that she was careful when mentioning anything about the ball. Trying not to stray into Aemond and Alys territory for your sake, you assumed.

“Sure, come over whenever you want. I don’t really have any idea what it’s all for, but hey, at least we get to put on fancy dresses and look pretty.”

“Oh, you always look pretty,” you say sincerely.

“Thank you, doll,” she says, before sighing dramatically. “Anyway, I actually called to tell you something. You’re going to come over to our place on Sunday night. We’re throwing a little party.”

“A party, huh.” Will Aemond be there, you wanted to ask, but held back.

You haven’t seen him for the last three months, after the fateful night of the accident. There was that incident when he parked outside the bookstore, but it was barely anything.

Word on the street is that the ‘Prince of the city’ had gone into hiding, as comical as that sounds to you. For what exactly? There has been speculation - perhaps he was left horribly disfigured from the accident, which is also why there isn’t any trace of the alleged pictures taken of him in Pentos. But Helaena immediately dissuaded that notion. My brother is not disfigured, she insisted when you brought it up, he’s simply recovering.

If Aemond wants to keep things to himself, then he has the right to do so. He would tell you if he wanted. Call you, send you a message. Anything.

“A party,” Helaena repeats. “It’ll be for our inner circle. Which includes you, of course. A little prequel to the ball, so everyone can catch up with each other.”

“Aegon’s idea?” you guessed with a wry smile.

“There might be a direct correlation there, yeah,” Helaena laughs. “Anyway, come over! Since you’re coming with Jace to the ball, then we have to plan everything for you, too! What colour dress do you want to wear? Well, there is a theme but we’ll work with that. Mum assigned a stylist and hairdresser for me, which means they’re for you too and - ”

“Hel, I don’t really need - ”

Then she says something that puts a stop to your protest. “Oh, Aemond won’t know what’ll hit him.”

“Huh.” The thought of seeing Aemond again gives you a surge of excitement. And nervousness. Your yearning for him reawakens, but it never truly left.

Having made her point, Helaena knows she’s got you hook, line and sinker. “I’ll expect you in the next hour.”

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

Sunday came rolling over soon enough, and the party at the Targaryen penthouse is well under way.

The ballroom on the 2nd floor is packed, filled with people whom you either don’t know or barely recognize. Of course, it wouldn’t be complete without some snooty heirs and heiresses who would openly regard you with what could be confusion or derision. Until a Targaryen or Velaryon would approach you and eagerly whisk you away in conversation.

“Who is she?” you hear someone say when Jace takes your hand and directs you to sit on the couch with him and Daeron. “Why is Jace so close to her? And what on earth is she wearing?”

Unfazed by it all, and already used to such comments, you smile sweetly in that girl’s direction and greet her with a friendly, “Hi, how are you doing?”, without giving her a chance to respond.

Jace watches the exchange proudly. As you sit down, he says, “Aegon invited her, I think. I don’t really know, I don’t like her much.”

“How come?” you jest. “You two have so much in common. Heirs to the kingdom and all that.” Your sarcasm again comes out of you in waves, trying to temper your nerves. You look around the room, though it is not the first time you’ve scanned through everything.

“I’d much prefer your company,” Jace easily says, then notices your divided attention. “He isn’t here.”

In a transparent attempt at surprise, you ask,“Who?”

Daeron overhears the exchange, after his friend stands up to get a drink. “Aemond’s not here, y/n. At least I haven’t seen him. Last I heard he was holed up in our holiday estate in Pentos.”

“Oh.” Your face visibly falls. You didn’t know what to expect, really. Of course Aemond would not just show up at this party after avoiding everyone for too long.

“He will be at the Dragonstone ball though,” Daeron pats your knee in sympathy. “He might be going through some shit, but mum would lynch him if he misses that event.”

Jace and Daeron continue to look at you, seeing if they need to offer more comfort, and you can’t stand it. “Alright, you two. Thanks for… I don’t know… but this is a party! We should just go and have fun. No need to be concerned about me and…” You choke up at his name, negating your false show of indifference.

“Okay,” Jace says, saving you from saying anything further. “How about I get you a drink, hmm?”

“Yeah,” you say, but something crosses your mind. You stand at the same time as Jace, grabbing his arm, “Actually, I’ll go get some air first.”

“Are you alright?” This time, Jace��s sincere gaze is not enough to distract you from that familiar gnawing ache.

“I am,” you smile placatingly. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

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

Aemond Targaryen, contrary to what everyone in the party believes, is no longer wasting his days in Pentos.

He had slipped back into the city earlier that night, and in the safety of their 7-floor penthouse. Right in time for the revelry. He has no intention of making an appearance, but when Helaena let it slip that you would be attending, he could not help himself.

The fact that you would be under the same roof was enough to get Aemond to scurry back home. While he might not be ready to show himself just yet, there are methods which allow him to see you. Watch you.

Helaena would probably smack him upside the head, if she found out. That not only had Aemond come back without telling her, but also that he is watching her friend through the CCTV cameras littered throughout the penthouse.

Perhaps it is unsavoury, and you might cross your arms and huff at him if you found out. Oh, what I would give to see that in person. But he’ll take what he can get. Do what he must. To still have you, still see you.

His left knuckle is taut, still bandaged and bruised from his recent activities. Luckily, the stitches on his face had not come loose and the medical treatment his mother is putting him through has done considerable wonders. What would you think, I wonder, if you saw me like this, my love.

His laptop is propped up on his desk, right next to the green journal he means to give you. On the screen, he watches as you trail Helaena for a while. As you sit alone, watching everything unfold. As Jace comes for you, and you sit together on a couch. Too close. Too comfortable for Aemond’s liking. Is something going on between you and my fucking Strong nephew?

When news reached him that you would be coming to the ball with Jace, Aemond had broken something. He can barely remember what it was, just the sound of it shattering against the wall. A wine bottle? A vase? A mirror? Whatever it was sent his company fleeing from their table, and Criston had rushed forward to make sure that he wasn’t harmed.

Aemond glares at the screen you walk after Jace and whisper something close to his ear.

Jace regards you for a long while. He better not…

But then you nod and smile, stepping away from him. Aemond finds himself breathing a sigh of relief, predictably, and he almost snorts at his own reaction.

You walk out of the ballroom, and Aemond has to switch between cameras to follow your path. You pause down the hallway, and lean next to the wall.

What are you doing, ñuha jorrāelagon?

Seemingly decided on something, you swing the door to the staircase, forgoing the elevator. The cameras on each landing track you as you continue to climb upward, panting slightly when you finally reach the entrance to the rooftop.

You take slow, sure steps toward the golden railing. For a moment, you just stand there, seemingly watching the city below.

I have to see you. I have to try. In a split decision, Aemond slinkers out of his room, the party below still unaware of his presence.

Then he heads up the flight of stairs as you had done, feeling more apprehensive with each step. What do I even say to you? Do you still want to see me? He finally reaches the final landing, and heart in his throat, he pries the door open as silently as possible.

You no longer stand at the railing. Instead, he spies you sitting on the plush seat the two of you shared on that one night. Facing away from the entrance, looking up at the stars.

Aemond knows that isn’t as it was before. He cannot simply approach you and watch as your eyes immediately welcome the sight of him. It’s not the same, and it is all his fault. He wonders if your heart might still race because of him, or will it have become cold, after all this time?

He draws closer, with each footstep uncertain. But your pull is stronger, taking precedence over all of his worries.

“I miss you,” is all he can bring himself to say, throwing caution to the wind. You freeze at the sound of his voice.

Then a shiver runs up his spine as it dawns on him - in his haste to see you, he left his eyepatch in his room below.

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

I must be dreaming. The hairs along your arms stand in your shock, and you keep both hands flat on the seat to keep you steady.

Is it… You start to turn back, but cease all movement when Aemond pleads, “Don’t. Please don’t turn around.”

“Aemond?” your voice is shaky, and you feel a tear threaten to escape. “They said… we all thought…”

“They do not know that I am back yet,” he answers. “Just you.”

“Oh.” Your head is still turned to the side, and you have to fight the urge to simply rise from your seat and face him. You exhale, trying to calm down. When that doesn’t work, you lean back against the seat, and force yourself to count the windows on the building down the road.

6… 7… 8…

But the sudden feeling of his hands on your shoulders makes you lose all train of thought.

“Did you miss me?” Aemond asks, standing right behind your seat now, his sweater grazing the back of your head.

Your mind is flooded with thoughts of all that happened between the two of you - the beginning, the brief affair, the end. Is it the end?

Answer him. “Did I miss you?” you bite your lip, and your brows scrunch in frustration. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Your expletive makes Aemond take a step back. “I-I’m sorry…”

“I’ve been so worried about you, Aemond!” Your hands bunch up into fists beside you. You did not realize you had all this pent up anger, with the past few months being spent pining. Longing. Yearning. Like some silly little fool. When he didn’t even make any effort to reach out to you, and the most you got from him was that episode outside the bookstore.

“Oh yeah, and what the hell were you doing outside my place of work?” you stand then, and lean against the railing in front of you, careful not to turn and catch a glimpse of him. “You wanted to speak to me? Well, why didn’t you just do that?” You can feel your erratic heartbeat pounding in your chest, and for a moment you become afraid that it might just stop altogether.

“I did want to speak to you. To see you.” Aemond sighs heavily. “I always want to see you, my darling. You’re all I’ve ever thought about since - ”

“Yeah, right. I bet you did.” You threw the offhand accusation over your shoulder.

“I did,” Aemond swears. “I miss you every day, I -”

His voice is softer than before, and kind of nervous. Your resolve is at risk of breaking, because… Why does Aemond sound… broken?

He finishes, “I just needed some time.”

There are so many more that you want to ask him - What really happened in that accident? Where have you been all this time? What is going on with you and Alys? Where do we truly stand?

But instead you mutter the one thing you are most certain of, “I miss you too.”

Aemond breathes a sigh of relief. He moves to stand behind you, and steps closer.

Closer. You don’t dare move a muscle, because you just might turn around and forget about his request. He moves closer, until his chest is pressed against you from behind. Closer, until his hands squeeze both of yours on the railing.

You feel Aemond rest his face on your shoulder, inhaling deeply. At this point, he is practically enveloping you. Each breath he takes warms your neck. His thumbs run over your knuckles, and he says, “Are you still angry at me?”

“Should I be?” You lean your head back to rest on his right shoulder. From the corner of your eye, he looks as he always has. Almost ethereal, with his silver-blonde Targaryen hair and sharp, defined features.

Aemond moves his head slightly toward the left, careful not to reveal the ruined side to you, when he feels your wandering gaze.

“Please don’t be angry with me,” he pleads. You hum in affirmation, and in a lower voice, he purrs, “Close your eyes, darling.”

You try to ask why, but then you feel his lips lightly press against the nook between your neck and your shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut on their own goddamn volition.

His mouth parts even more, before coming down once again and nipping at your skin. His arms wrap themselves around your waist, and his hold tightens until your entire body is flush against him.

Still, you haven’t seen all of him.

Your hand reaches up to touch him, and your fingertips graze the side of his face. When your thumb runs over a bit of what must be raised flesh, like some partially healed lesion, Aemond jumps away. At once, you feel the cool evening air hit you, the warmth of his embrace having gone.

“What is - ” you start to ask.

“It’s nothing.”

“Aemond…” you hesitate. What could possibly be so terrible, he won’t even allow me to look at him? “If anything happened to the way you look… it wouldn’t matter to me. You would still be the same boy that I lo - ” The words hitch in your throat, their sentiment heavier than anything you’ve ever said.

Everything is at a standstill. Aemond does not say a single word, but you know that he understood what you were trying to say. He must.

And how can I even gauge his reaction when I can’t even look at him?

“Aemond?”

Much to your surprise, his voice is already farther away when he responds with a hurried, “I’ll see you at the ball.”

You swiftly turn around in your disbelief. Did he just fucking leave?

The door to the penthouse shuts behind him, and you are left dumbfounded at his actions. The old Aemond would have never done that to you, but what do you know?

Perhaps my Aemond is truly gone.

The ball is coming up next!!! Reader may finally learn to let go of Aemond, or at least give him what he wants - a whole lot of space and time.

Also, reminder - Aemond's injury is still pretty fresh, considering the damage. So no, he hasn't stuck a sapphire in there yet. Imagine how little Aemond looked in episode 7, with angry stitches running down his face, but a bit more healed. His eye socket is still sewn shut, and it still causes him much pain, so go easy on our boy, y'all.

taglist still has some spots left! I've managed to continue it in the comments 🖤

and I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on this, and what you're hoping to read in the next part!!!

Series taglist: @caught-in-the-afterglow @aemondtargaryensrider @punggo66 @dollfaceyourfear @candypurplebutterfly @moonmaiden1996 @mxrgodsstuff @lolitaisreal @blue-serendipity @melsunshine @thejanecampaign @fxngsfxgxrty @padfooteyes @msmarvel-19 @tempo-rary-fix @lauraneedstochill @julczimozart @sarcasticfangirl @witchyvik @pyjama-shorts @bellaisasleep @zillahvathek @thincrusttheworks @krispold @yougotthatlove @raging-panda @fleetingly-artistic @throughgoeshamilton @polireader @katsav17 @minttea07 @kravitzwhore @meggiemay82 @hedonefox @daenysx @schniiipsel @namoreno @afro-hispwriter @aemondswifeisme @emcharra @malfoytargaryen @iiamthehybrid @fullmetalriotts @kellzlib @justsumtuffstuff @daydreamy-me @yentroucnagol @kezibear @queenofshinigamis @paprikaquinn

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell

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nebulaafterdark · 4 months ago

Text

The Rats (Pt. 5)

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Two days pass before Y/N is called to stand round her mother’s council table and discuss strategy for their return to King’s Landing.

“With Aemond and Helaena gone, they have no dragons. But they do have a formidable land army, it would be my great honor to return on dragon back and present your terms. Once they agree, I will send word here.” Aegon says.

“And if they won’t agree?” Daemon arches a brow.

“How we proceed from there will be left up to the Queen.”

“We’re supposed to trust you?” Daemon sneers, “this is your fault.”

“For the sake of the seven, Daemon.” Y/N throws up a hand, wincing as it pulls the scabbed flesh of her side. “After all he has done for my mother’s cause, can you not afford him the smallest bit of grace?”

“He still breathes our air, does he not?” Daemon drawls, “this is a concession made for you, daughter.”

“I shall go with him to King’s Landing then.” Y/N offers.

“No,” Rhaenyra says, immediately. “You are my heir, the risk is too great.”

“Then we offer our terms by raven,” Y/N insists. “After they agree, our fleet returns together. Aegon swears his allegiance, on bended knee and you ascend the throne as our rightful Queen.”

“Who’s to say Alicent will not ignore the fucking message?”

“Aegon is her King.” Y/N narrows her eyes at Daemon. “One does not ignore letters from their fucking King.”

————————————————————————

“Mother?” Dahlia tugs at her skirts.

Y/N blinks away the fog clouding her mind. “Yes, my love.”

“You look sad, or frightened.”

“Forgive me.” Y/N forces a smile, “I am expecting a message. You know how I dislike waiting.”

Dahlia nods, plopping into her mother’s lap, as her father plays happily with her siblings. “Do you think it has to happen?”

“What, my darling?” Y/N wraps both arms around her.

“That brothers and sisters must fight for the throne?”

“No one is fighting,” Y/N assures her.

“I saw what the bad men did to Aunt Helaena.” Dahlia whispers, “it was because of Uncle Lucerys…when he went to the heavens. Uncle Aemond sent him there, because Luce took his eye.”

“Who told you this?” Y/N demands. “Alicent?”

“Grandmother did not tell me a thing. No one ever does.”

“Because you are a child, and this burden is not a child’s to bear.”

“I hear things,” Dahlia tells her, “and I see them. Though I would rather hear them from you or father. At least you are kind about it.”

“Has someone been unkind to you?”

“Not to me, but to father, in front of me.” Dahlia leans into her mother, “and sometimes to you, in front of me.”

“I apologize, my darling.” Y/N kisses the back of her head, “our family history is…a unique tapestry, by no fault of yours. There are many people we love dearly who’ve been hurt and those who’ve hurt us.”

Dahlia says, “if that is what it means to sit the throne, I do not want to.”

“That is not what it means to sit the throne.” Y/N explains, “your great grandsire, Viserys reigned peacefully, all his years. But I will not force it upon you.”

Dahlia nods.

“You are my daughter first and my heir second. That is how I was raised, equal to my brothers in every way.” Y/N presses on, “I do not believe that brothers and sisters must fight. I think rather, it is a tragedy when they do.”

“So father and grandmother Rhaenyra are not at war?”

Y/N sighs, pointing to Aegon, blowing raspberries on Laenor’s belly. “Does your father appear to be at war?”

“No.” Dahlia shrugs, fighting back a grin.

“We needn’t fret then.”

Aegon the fourth begins to fuss, having been left to his own devices too long.

Dahlia climbs off her mother’s lap, tapping her youngest brother’s nose. “Shh.”

The babe grabs for her finger, holding it tightly in his grasp, as Dahlia coos at him.

————————————————————————-

“Is everything alright, my dearest love?” Aegon asks his wife, when they are finally alone in their quarters. “You were awfully quiet at supper.”

“Do you know what your daughter asked me?” Y/N turns to Aegon, as he strips down to his small clothes, for bed.

“Gods only know,” he laughs, “which daughter was it?”

“Dahlia.”

“Dahlia,” he repeats, fondly. “What did my girl ask you?”

“Whether or not brothers and sisters must fight for the throne.” Y/N informs him, “she also presumed that you’d be going to war against my mother.”

Aegon sighs, “and what did you tell her?”

“No, of course. But she’s overheard a great many things in her life. I’m not sure the simple answer will suffice.”

“The whispers round these halls are insidious.”

“It is every hall,” Y/N shakes her head. “She watched that man hold a knife to Helaena’s throat.”

Aegon abandons his sleep clothes on the chair to comfort his wife.

“I have failed her.” Y/N sprawls out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“You have not.” Aegon climbs in beside her, wrapping her carefully in his arms; mindful of her injury. “You are a wonderful mother, my love.”

“I’m meant to protect her.”

“You did.” Aegon insists, “you protected our children and my sister’s.”

Y/N nods against his chest, “why then do I feel so awful?”

“Awful mothers do not spend their nights lamenting imagined shortcomings.” Aegon presses his lips to the top of her head. “Our children know love and that they are worthy of it. I think it speaks volumes she was comfortable enough to raise this matter with you.”

“Do you truly believe that?” Y/N leans up on her elbow.

“I do.” Aegon meets her eyes.

She leans down, pressing her lips to his, before turning over to make herself comfortable with her back to his chest. “This is the longest we have not lied together, save for the weeks following the births of our babes.”

“I’ve no desire to cause you more pain.” Aegon murmurs, “but if you are feeling up to it…”

“I think it might help me find sleep.”

Aegon wastes no time reaching round her hip, hiking up her nightgown and slipping a hand beneath her small clothes, rubbing slow circles over her pearl until she is wet and wanting. “This is good fortune, you know?”

“Of course,” Y/N laughs, indulgently.

“Laugh all you want.” He groans, low in his throat. Shoving the pesky garment down past her knees and easing his cock into her from behind. “Your cunt has gifted me the greatest winning streak in all the realm.”

“And how is that, my love?” Y/N sighs as his fingers continue dancing along her pearl.

“Four wonderful children and years of happiness. Though I’d like to make it five.”

“Get to work then.” She reaches back, to bury a hand in his hair. “Ow,” she hisses, moving for her bandage, but Aegon’s hand is already there.

“Shhh, shh, shhh.” Aegon hushes her. “Be good for me, darling girl. Be still.”

“I can’t.”

“Try for me.” Aegon breathes, fucking her slow and deep, watching her sweet fingers curl around the pillow instead. “That’s the way,” Aegon praises, “lie there and take me.”

Y/N relaxes into the mattress.

“I love you.” He breathes, against her ear.

“I love you.” Again she begins reaching for him, only to be caught by his hand.

Aegon laces their fingers together. “Whilst your mother is Queen, we will spend many a day lazing about our chambers. Entertaining our children, creating more, watching them grow. We’re going to live happily together, the way we’ve dreamed it.”

————————————————————————-

Before first light they are called to an impromptu meeting of the small council.

“There’s been word from King’s Landing.”

“And?”

“Alicent has agreed to our terms,” Rhaenyra announces. “Her only request is an audience with the acting King and Queen before the declaration of allegiance.”

Aegon’s mouth is agape when Y/N turns to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“This is wonderful news.”

Daemon rolls his eyes.

“Indeed,” Rhaenyra beams at Y/N. “We will fly out within the hour. The four of us,” she motions to her daughter, half brother and husband, in turn.

“Oh happy day,” Daemon grumbles.

“The children will remain here, until the transition of power is complete. Then we return for them on dragon back.”

“Too easy.” Daemon rounds the table to Aegon. “Surely a trap, laid by your bitch mother.”

Y/N slaps her palm against the table, “you may not speak that way of my husband or his house. My daughter has overheard, the servants whisper in the halls.”

“Then see their tongues removed.” Daemon sneers.

“Enough.” Rhaenyra holds up a hand. “We are a family. Aegon is my father’s son, your brother’s child, my daughter’s husband. With grievances of his own, surely; yet here he stands.”

“We’re supposed to forgive all of it? Clouding my brother’s mind with milk of the poppy, usurping your throne, forcing you into such a state of distress that we lost our unborn child?” Daemon shakes his head, “and Lucerys?”

Rhaenyra blanches.

“You are innocent?” Y/N scoffs. “Tell my mother how I came to be here on Dragonstone. Tell her what my little girl saw the men you hired do.”

“I did not order them to harm children!”

“As my husband did not order the murder of my brother.” Y/N says, pointedly.

“We cannot hope for a better future if we cannot be better ourselves.” Aegon looks to his uncle. “I am not asking for forgiveness, nor your kinship. I am asking for peace in the space between us, and I swear to you, it will be a significant amount of space.”

They are dismissed then, to don their riding gear before meeting Rhaenyra and Daemon near the dragon pit.

“Good morrow, my girl.” Y/N greets her dragon, passing a hand over her scales.

Sunfyre butts his nose against Aegon’s chest, smiling as he does.

“Hello, there.” Aegon grins, patting his snout. “We’re off to King’s Landing, shortly.”

Stormborn waits her turn to be greeted by Aegon, enjoying her rider’s affection as she does. When Aegon does come to her, he is met with a content hum.

“There we are, sweetling.” Aegon pets her bowed head.

“Good morrow, Sunfrye.” Y/N steps over to the golden dragon.

He does not sing for her, the way he always does, glaring as he leans into her hand.

“You’re still angry with me, aren’t you?” Y/N sighs.

The golden dragon huffs.

Aegon chuckles. “Now, now, Sunfyre. Infuriating as she is, we love her.”

Sunfyre blinks at Y/N, expectantly.

“Forgive me, my friend. I do not intend to take Stormborn from you again. That is why we fly together this day.” Y/N says, leaning her forehead against him.

Sunfyre begins crooning.

They will tell stories someday of a Queen and King Consort, so deeply in love their dragons could not bear to be parted; and how their marriage, born of duty, saved the mighty house Targaryen.

Taglist: @callsignwidow @fallout-girl219 @syraxnyra @vickynephilim @jeondeluxe111 @geeksareunique @arya-brooke @7minutes-tomidnight @ninastyless @aleemendoza2425-blog @livingdead-reilly @whenmypartysover @darlingisntit @nayaniasworld @uniquecroissant @spacexdrago @kaysav608 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @wolflover384 @jaydemon99 @minttea07 @lightdragonrayne @baybaybear1 @oh-you-mean-me @niyahnotnia @holymusicalmothman @lxdyred @godofstory @cloud-toast @jankityjankjank @lenadoerrer

#house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x you #hotd smut #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen smut #aegon smut #aegon ii #aegon imagine

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year ago

Text

i'm a m*therfucking starboy | d. targaryen

Description: You meet the elusive Prince of Dragonstone, and he fucking hates your guts. [semi-enemies to lovers] Pairing: Daemon Targaryen/Supermodel!Reader Rating: 16+ [suggestive themes]

Models were fucking angels descended on earth - women who continued walking earth knowing that they looked amazing. Daemon swore that he'd never date models - his friends would make fun of him, and his reputation would be decimated. He swore that he wouldn't even look at a model twice - that was until, he saw you.

He knows who you are - he's seen your pictures everywhere. Heck, your face was plastered on the perfume that he bought for Aemma last year. He continues sipping his coffee - watching while you walked confidently inside the coffee shop. You weren't on the damn runway, but it seemed like you were. He has a keen eye on fabrics - but now that he was staring at you, he wanted that pink dress on his bedroom floor.

He stands up, walking towards you on the counter. "Which one do you like, the blueberry or the chocolate one?" he whispered - leaning slowly towards your body, but still giving you personal space. You turned to look at him - annoyed that someone was talking to you after your long ass flight. "I like chocolate - but I'd love it more if you stepped away." you tried to answer as politely as you could muster, but it was no use - he already felt your energy telling him to fuck off.

"Alright, alright." he repeated, taking a step backward and cursing himself. Daemon Targaryen reaffirmed his opinion. He'd never date models or even talk to them.

GalaxyButterflies: Late night. San Fran. 💗🕊

3 comments 981,345 likes

bellahadid: 💙

comments have been restricted.

targaryenroyalfamilyupdates: HRH Prince Daemon of Dragonstone was spotted outside of a club in San Francisco without security.

99 comments 12,390 likes

possitai: WHY DID HE DYE HIS HAIR? WE GAINED PICTURES, BUT LOST A BLONDIE 😭💔 - machintamarden: Probably because of the security issues the Targaryen family faced last 2020, everyone kept bothering people who had silver hair 🤷🏻‍♀️

Of course he saw you again - you were sipping lazily on the drink at your hand, scrolling mindlessly through social media like all the kids did nowadays. A scowl found its way on his face - reminded of the altercation between you. Daemon didn't want to be a petty asshole - but your denial bruised his pride. You and your friends quickly made their way towards his table. A smile paints his lips - it was time for revenge. "It's nice seeing you again," your friend smiled at Laenor.

"It's been too long, I swear to god." Laenor exaggerated, pressing a soft kiss on both of your cheeks. You smiled softly at the man - quickly settling your bag on their table, and squeezing yourselves beside them. "Last time we saw each other, you were still married to Princess Rhaenyra - how is she?" your friend asked, and all of their chatter began to drown away from Daemon's ears.

He turns to look at you - and you were staring at him. Eyes trailing up and down his body, presumably checking him out. "I'm (your name)," you smiled - joy not reaching your eyes. You offered your hand for his to shake, but he ignores you - and looks the other way. A small huff exits your mouth, before turning your attention to another thing.

It was a good thing that you lived in a democratic republic - no need for these snobby royals. "Forgive him darling, he's a little drunk from all the vodka we drank." Laenor apologized, glaring at his ex-uncle-in-law. Laenor wanted to be friends with people in Hollywood - and Daemon was shooing away his models. "It's alright," you smile uncomfortably, shifting around your seat.

It was the fifth round of drinks, and everyone began loosening up. To Daemon's surprise, you were a lightweight - already shifting around after your third glass of alcohol. You leaned your head on his shoulder, melting his thick wall of ice. "Lightweight," he scoffed, pushing your head down so that it would be resting on the chair. "It's a gift, actually - so I don't have to pay too much money to get drunk." you slurred - eyes softly flickering and closing.

"Sweetheart, we're drinking water and you're still getting drunk." he teased, taking a shot of vodka - which tasted like water at this point. A grunt escapes from your mouth, but nothing else - you were too tired and tipsy. At this point, you weren't sure if it was the vodka that made you sleepy - or the lack of actual sleep. "Not everyone is a drunkard," you managed to whisper, before getting knocked unconscious.

targaryenroyalfamilyupdates: Prince Daemon Targaryen, HRH Laenor Velaryon, Y/N L/N and Bella Hadid leaving Bar IX.

43 comments 21,394 likes

y/nismommy: Princess Y/N L/N (let me dream)

watercoloredeyes: Who let Prince Daemon drive?💀

Every time he sees you - it doesn't seem like a coincidence. His eyes trail towards your body - walking down the runway. He doesn't know why he was invited to a fashion show, he wasn't exactly a fashion icon - but he's not complaining, if it means seeing you. He was annoyed with you - but he couldn't deny your sex appeal.

You continue walking down the ramp - stopping in front, and flashing him a wink. His eyes widen - taken off guard by the sudden action. He could pretend to hate you, but hate is love persevering.

Your hands play with the bracelet on your wrist.

"It should be a sin to look as good as you," the string of words exit your mouth - turning him into a crimson hue. He was stoic and mean, but under the pressure of a pretty girl - he was as good as putty. "I've heard that a lot of times," he pretended to be unbothered. A soft smile finds its way on your lips - melting all his armor. "I like it when you play hard to get," you continued - staring deep into his purple irises. You wanted him to breed you - fuck you and love you.

"I'm not playing hard to get, darling. I just don't want to be taken." he snapped, crossing his arms - trying to avoid your siren stare.

"Why are you so mean to me?" you pouted.

"I don't have to be nice to you, baby." he scoffed.

Your hands trail to his chest - up until you were cupping his cheek. "It confuses me when you bully me - and call me baby at the same time." you whisper, bridging the gap between you. It's been a while since the both of you had a good fucking - too busy with work and royal duties. It's time for carnal desire to rule.

His hands reach for your waist - pulling you closer and providing you a small kiss. He was igniting a fire within you - one that couldn't be put out with a simple kiss.

HRH PRINCE DAEMON OF DRAGONSTONE MARRIES MODEL, Y/N L/N IN A PRIVATE CEREMONY.

This morning Prince Daemon, the youngest son of late Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa, married infamous supermodel Y/N L/N, in a private ceremony that only featured their close relatives and friends. The ones that are confirmed to be in attendance are Princess Beatrice of York, Catherine, Princess of Wales, Bella Hadid and Isha Ambani. Y/N L/N is currently trending in twitter for deleting all of her social media accounts. Her agency IMG Models confirm her retirement. The Dragonstone Castle is yet to announce the former model's titles.

targaryenroyalfamilyupdates: First Picture: HRH Prince Daemon. Second Picture: Queen Rhaenys (left) and Lady Y/N (right) in East Dragonstone.

23,567 comments 123,567 likes

y/nfanbase: Our queen married a prince, but we lost her 😭

bananacakes: it's been a year daddy

grinchlover: I love how the Queen is like 🙂 & Y/N is like 😎

liverspread13: THIS IS MY REPUTATION ERA

wemissyouy/n: so i'll watch your life in pictures like i used to watch you sleep 😭 Y/N L/N as Last Kiss.

134 comments 139 likes

LADY Y/N L/N SAYS THAT 'ROYAL LIFE' IS A PRIVILEGE

The 29 year old model was interviewed outside her family home in San Francisco. When she was asked about letting go of her modeling career, she affirmed that it was a privilege and a blessing for her. "It opened my eyes to the reality of the situation - that a lot of people are struggling in all the other parts of the world. As part of the royal family, I think it mobilized me to act on those and help as much as I could."

Her husband, HRH Prince Daemon, is third-in-line to the throne following Prince Laenor leaving the royal line of succession and Princess Laena's untimely death in '08. Prince Daemon overlooks the estate/island of Dragonstone, which is the capital of the country. Lady Y/N L/N is estimated to be worth $50 Million. Her title is set to change after HRH Prince Viserys ascends to the throne.

HRH PRINCE DAEMON AND DUCHESS Y/N L/N OF DRAGONSTONE WELCOMES THEIR FIRST CHILD.

taglist: @watercolorskyy

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tamayakii · 7 months ago

Text

The Devil watches.

Warnings: Not connected to any episodes of HOTD, but is set after Daemon & Laena marry after Rhaenrya & Laenor do. My timing may be off by a tad, Pairings: No Pairings, it's pretty much Darling on her own. notes: I chose the flowers with purpose, anyone who can guess will get a cookie. Also thank you to my friends for being my beta-readers. Also part two IS in the works!

The Belladonna swayed in the wind, dancing with the butterfly weeds. They were a beautiful sight. A change from the rainy scenery on Dragonstone, it rained like hell on the island. The colder season was here. Your family wrapped themselves in furs and thick leather.

The Velaryons and Targaryens frequently met on Dragonstone because of the marriages between Rhaenrya and Laenor, as well as Daemon and Laena, with Dragonstone and Driftmark being sister islands.

At a slow pace, you traversed the halls of the stone castle, the one that had held many of Targaryen's heirs and ancestors. Since your entrance into the royal family, you dug yourself into research- you wanted them to know you truly did not look down at this chance of a better life.

You learned the history of Old Valyria with your father, Viserys. He believed himself a dreamer, you found, like Daenys the Dreamer- perhaps the reason the Targaryens survived the destruction of Valyria.

With Aemma, you learned of Rhaena Targaryen, Queen of the East and West. Daughter of Alyssa Velaryon and sister to Queen Alysanne, sister-wife to the King Jaehaerys the First. Aemma wanted you to know about her mother, Daella Targaryen.

And you knew, you discovered her meek nature, her fear of gardens, bees, and cats. You acquired all knowledge that could be learned, all knowledge that the Maesters wrote. Even once at a dinner, you asked Ser Corlys what he thought of Daella, who was 3 and 10 at the time of their meeting.

They quickly escorted you to your chambers, with Rhaenrya following closely behind you. It seemed you had upset Aemma and changed the mood of the dinner. Queen Aemma miscarried that night, something that you would place blame on yourself.

Outside, the wind blew through the paneless windows of the halls. The salty taste of the sea sat upon your lips. The thoughts of your late-queen mother made your eyes water, the pain of her death still ever present in your soul. Your veil billowed behind you as the wind blew harder, pulling your fur robes tighter as you descended the staircase. These were the nights when you felt the need to be under the shrouded night, humming the Mother's Hymn, as the darkness seemed endless and the stars never shined. The castle was as silent as ever. Besides nature's song, everyone tucked into their warm beds. Protected by the guards that you’ve come to know as background ambience.

“Gentle mother..” You sang under your breath, letting your fingers feel every grout of the walls that followed the staircase, “font of mercy…” you dragged your voice out as you reached the bottom of the tower, pushing the thick oak doors open.

“Save our sons..” Closing your eyes as you felt the wind caress your face like Mother herself as you sang her hymn, “from war…” stepping into the courtyard, you looked up at the looming castle of Dragonmont.

“We pray.” Your feet step slowly across the gravel, mimicking a dance you once saw. Slowly, you step from the left before taking a long graceful one to the right. “Stay the swords,” you dance yourself through the protective gates of Dragonstone, skipping from one step to the next.

“And stay the arrows.” Your voice trails off as you walk onto the shore, the waves lapping at the sand. You stopped to admire the dark sea, your veil waving in its wind with force. It was as if the sea’s wind washed away your sins.

“Let them know a be-” A large gust of air comes from above, nearly knocking you on your arse. It punches the air out of your lungs. Gasping for air as you looked to the heavens above, but nothing was there except the night sky.

“Better day..” whispering, eyes wide as you stare into the abyss night. You rack your brain for answers. Perhaps it was Ceraxes. If left alone for too long, the blood wyrm was known for its lonely flights. The thought comforted you.

Looking down the long rocky beach, you begin your trek again with caution. You listen to any sound in the night but all there is howling of the wind, trying to comfort yourself with a sigh; you sing once more,

“Gentle mother..” you pause, waiting for an interruption that never comes. “Strength of women,” pulling your robe against you tighter as you round a tight bend in the beach, skipping over rocks to dodge the waves licking your feet.

The sound of rocks tumbling catches your attention, watching as small rocks fall down the cliff side. Looking up to find that the rocks seemed moved on their own, not a lively shape to be seen up top.

‘The wind, perhaps.’ you think to yourself before moving onward.

“Help our daughters through this fray.” You lost yourself in thought as you walked. The Mothers Hymn was of comfort to you. Aemma sang it every time she tucked you in, unable to ignore your pleas to sing it just once more.

The first night you sang the Mother's Hymn without Aemma was after her funeral, Rhaenrya would not sleep, her grief too much for her to bear on her own. You hummed as you brushed the girl's hair with your fingers, whispering the lyrics.

It took an hour until she fell asleep- your voice raw from repeating the Hymn with no breaks.

A cove sat in your path, the sandy path too thin for you to walk, the water becoming more shallow as it flowed into a cave. Finding yourself upon a high rock, enjoying the sea breeze, you were ignorant to the eyes that stared from the cavern.

“Soothe the wrath and tame the fury,” You wondered about Laena’s adventure to Vhagar, the woman had her eyes set upon the dragon since she learned of its history and location. Vhagar, the last of the conquerors' dragons, was a mighty green beast, but her song was as beautiful as a gentle maiden.

“Teach us all a kinder way.”

The air gets warmer, almost too warm. You start to wonder as you pant about the change of weather. Turning around and looking into the cavern's mouth; you realize why.

A dragon, as dark as the night and as sharp as a blade. Its horns curled around its face, green eyes glowing in the dark. It begins to climb out of the cave, its body seeming never ending. It towers over you with his horrifying size.

Fear gripped your frail heart. You were going to die.

Smoke billows out of the beast's nostrils. Its chest glows with the heat of a thousand fires. Flames tickle your legs as you throw yourself off the rock, gasping as the freezing water below you flee for your life, forgetting the sharp rocks and barnacles tearing at your hands.

Thunderous booms follow you, a song that told you your fate, but the song was not comforting. It was dreadful. It screeched and wavered unceremoniously, and that was the song you would die to.

There was no escape. The breath of the fearsome dragon was hot on your back. Did the beast enjoy this? It could end this chase with one snap of its giant teeth, but it did not.

A light at the end of the tunnel appeared.

A crack within the cliff side, just big enough to hold you.

Tripping over your feet as you dash for it, shoving your body between the jagged stones, it hurts. The sharp edges tore at the front and back of your dress, crying as it dug into your skin. What were you to do?

The dragon paces back and forth, a cry that sounds too much like a chortle leaves its throat. It was laughing.. It was laughing at you.

“Gentle Mother” You sang with fear, trying to comfort yourself, a bit of solace as you sat at death's door. “Font of mercy” voice wavering as you sobbed, you wanted your mother. You wanted Aemma.

“Save our sons from war, we pray- oh gods!!” you sobbed against the stone, begging the gods- all of them, the old and new, for Mercy,.

The dragon had stopped, listening to your voice.

“Stay the swords and stay the arrows-” you realize the dragon has stopped. You look at the opening and see its green eyes watching you as it slowly lays its large body against the sand. Its lips curled once you stopped singing,

“Let them know a better day..”

It snorted, laying its head down. Perhaps it once heard the Mothers Hymn, or maybe it was the own Mother's hand coming down to save you.

“Gentle Mother, strength of women..” Slowly, you begin to sidestep out of the crack. “Help our daughters through this fray.” you can feel its hot breath once more. Fear makes you stop, but memory reminds you of your family.

“Will I have a dragon, Papa?” Viserys held you tight on his lap, the book open wide on your thighs. The man hums with thought before he smiles, kissing your temple.

“A girl as brave as you? Of course you shall have a dragon., I will make sure of it if I must.” His hands rub your sides with love. The thought of him forcing the gods to give you a dragon made you more happy.

Looking up at him with a toothy grin, “Thank you, Papa!!” The rest of the night you discussed dragons. Viserys suggested that once Dreamfyre laid a new hatch, he would give you a dragon egg, but each egg he gave you failed to hatch.

“Soothe the wrath and tame the fury,”

The dragon chirps softly, a weird noise coming from such a devilish beast.

“Teach us all a kinder way…” The Hymn ends and soothes the dragon., "Do you like that? It's my favorite... is it yours too?" with cautious steps, you finally emerge out of the rocks. The dragon huffs, and the clouds split and the moon shines upon you two.

If you tamed this dragon… perhaps you would feel more Targaryen, maybe you could fly in the skies with Rhaenrya and Daemon.

The dragon sniffs you as you step closer. Your hands touch the scales of its snout and it rips its head back with a grunt. It was still a wild dragon. You almost laughed at yourself. It had tricked you. You were no Targaryen, and it would kill you.

Awaiting the flames hotter than the hells to blanket your body, you waited for the never ending pain with your eyes closed, but it never came. When the wind picked up again, you found yourself opening your eyes once more.

There it was, spreading its wings and taking off with a mighty roar. You watched as the dragon flew further into the mountains,

You had walked along the devil's hand and came unscathed.

With the speed of a hare, you picked your soaked and ripped dress up and ran. Feet ripping up the sand, leaving spits of rocks behind you. Desperate to reach the safety of your chambers within the safety of the castle.

You reached the castle gates, heaving for air, but it did not stop you. Brushing past the confused guards as you blazingly push the doors open to the side tower and running up the stairs,

Your mind came back to the wild dragon, the way it had multiple sets of horns, but its biggest curled in towards his face like a ram. Its eyes were more green than the richest jade, scales so deep black that it could rival Balerion’s skull that resides under the Red Keep.

Shoving your body against your chamber doors, they slam shut. You wheeze for air, the pain pinching your throat as you try to breathe normally. You should’ve been dead ten times over. Slowly, you walk to your bed, shaking as you collapse.

The silk sheets are warm against your slick skin, fingers stretching as they tremble from the cold. Your eyes fall heavy, the distant roar of a dragon seems ever faint as you slip into a deep slumber.

That night, you dream of dragons. It is you who is the dragon. You see flashes of broken eggs and the bodies of baby dragons ripped apart, oddly; you feel no remorse for the creatures but only satiated hunger.

You see the rough choppy waters of the Narrow Sea below as you fly through the dark nights, ships cross in many numbers- You destroy them, roaring with a laugh but you hunger for your own brethren, for the taste and feel of fire and talons.

No longer a dragon, you’re a human once more. A baby within a cradle, your mother Aemma above you, or was she Aemma? Her long white hair and purple eyes entranced you, but as you studied her further; It was not Aemma, but another woman.

Her eyelids were gently dusted with a purple hue, and her lips were glossed to match the same shade of purple. She seemed tired, but she still smiled. Above her was a painted tapestry of dragons, but among the many, only one caught your attention. There it was. The beast swirled and its jaws were wide open with a flurry of green fire escaping its mouth.

The eyes seem so alive and penetrating, as if they're boring into your very being. The green-eyed devil had been watching you for a long time.

Your dreams end before you can look at the woman once more, but you hear her voice,

“Gentle Mother, font of mercy…”

Let me know what you guys think!! Reblogs over likes!!!

#hotd x reader #yandere hotd x reader #yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #their angel au #angel of the red keep #Rhaenrya Targaryen x reader #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere viserys targaryen #yandere aemma arryn

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marthawrites · 1 year ago

Note

Congrats Martha!! 🎉🎉

Could I request Rhaenyra x reader with the prompt “Spread your legs for me, I want to see all of you” pretty please?

Thank you 😍

Absolutely, Fae my darling! I hope I brought your prompt to life and gave it justice! 💖

Honeyed Promises

Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 2.8k+

About: While visiting your great uncle, Lyman Beesbury, at King's Landing, you weren't expecting secondhand stress to affect your lord husband so. Princess Rhaenyra takes notice and is happy to steal moments away with you.

Includes: Unhappy political marriage, mentions of verbal fighting, and smut. Featuring reader's first sexual experience with a woman, oral sex, vaginal fingering, and scissoring

Note: Hello lovely reader ❤️ This is my very first time writing a wlw fic - ahh! It's a complete honor to do it as a request for Fae! Story takes place during Rhaenyra's marriage to Laenor. It is implied she hasn't had children yet. Reader is nondescript. As always, I hope you enjoy this story!

Cross posted on ao3 too!

Little had changed since your last visit to King’s Landing when you were a young girl. The Red Keep, in all its sprawling glory, loomed just as large as you remembered. A rarity, you were beginning to understand – for things you thought grand as a child were all but normal to you, now. The Keep was a being of its own, however. Almost a living, breathing, sentient thing. For an outsider its walls seemed to morph into the dark; changing, shifting… holding onto its secrets like the dragons its Kings bonded with.

You weren’t a stranger to politics. But, you were a stranger to the volume of aristocrats which surrounded the Targaryen dynasty. Lyman Beesbury, your great uncle, served as master of coin on King Viserys’ small council, and before him, King Jaehaerys, and was as deep into politics as a man of a smaller House could be.

A great honor.

Uncle Beesbury extended an invasion to his nephew, your lord husband, to attend a royal affair at the capital. He gladly accepted. Using it for not only an excuse to get out of Honeyholt for a while, but also to catch up with family, the long journey felt worth it.

Your marriage had yet to bear fruit. Little love bloomed between you and your husband. It was a marriage of duty rather than love, and it showed it more ways than you two cared to admit. If only you could swell with his child to put an end to all the talk of furthering the bloodline.

Each passing day at King’s Landing showed you a different side to your husband. Whatever he and his uncle conversed about in private soured his mood, and his harsh tongue somehow grew harsher towards you. No matter how you tried to soften him with gentle touches, tender words, and initiating marital affections, he was unsatisfied and dour.

“Your lord husband seems quite the ray of sunshine, my lady,” princess Rhaenyra whispered to you one night during dinner. Her voice lilted with sarcasm and her violet eyes dazzled with amusement when she met your gaze. She held it with confidence. With a softness. Knowing.

“Is it that obvious, princess?” You asked with some of her same amusement. “He was so excited to come here. I thought he’d be happier than…,” you waved your hand in a sweeping gesture, adding, “this.”

She smiled softly. “Have you had the chance to explore? There are many wonderful things here to distract you from tetchy husbands,” she said and tipped her goblet towards you, sipping to hide her smirk.

“Perhaps on the morrow I will,” you said, heat and butterflies filling your blood at her tone and implication. Could the princess be… flirting? Your heart quickened a tick. Surely you’re mistaken. Your bedtime stories of suave knights must be getting to you.

“I’ll gladly show you around. I too could use a distraction from the small council.”

She didn’t touch you, but the way her gaze lingered from your neck, up to your lips, and down to the exposed swath of your chest, made gooseflesh pebble your skin as if she had.

Nearly a week went by and unfortunately Rhaenyra had yet to keep true to her word. You couldn’t blame her, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. Each day passed with a sting. The only thing that made it better was the conversations you were able to steal at dinner. The lingering looks, the briefest of touches, Rhaenyra reaching to brush away dust from your gowns… you thought your heart might truly leap from your throat when she wetted the corner of her napkin with her mouth to clean a drop of sauce from your chest.

And, all the while, she sat by her husband, Laenor Velaryon, and you sat by your lord husband; the men either uncaring or none the wiser to the simmering attraction and tension between you and the princess.

The following day, after a particularly curt argument in hissed voices, you stomped away from your lord husband and left him in one of the numerous corridors. You didn’t stop your angry pace until you were standing in the gardens. Unchaperoned, unguarded, and completely alone. Just how you wanted to be. Heavy gray clouds began to gather over the castle. It didn’t deter you from wanting to make the most out of the remaining blue sky.

Your mood lightened by the minute. Flowers, shrubs, and trees bloomed everywhere. Heady scents filled your nose and it made you yearn for home. King’s Landing was lovely. But, to you, there truly was no place like home.

Akin to your married name, you quietly followed a trail of honeybees until you found their hive. Deep and hidden in the gardens, you wanted nothing more than to simply stay there for the remainder of the day. Perhaps even the rest of your stay. Honeybees were busy and gentle creatures. As long as you didn’t disturb them or their hive, the working girls were unbothered by your presence.

Finally, with one final whisper of goodbye to the bees, you left the secret spot and began to make your way back to the Keep. Raindrops started to fall and you knew a full on downpour wasn’t far behind.

Then, right there in your path, stood Rhaenyra. Her head was tipped back, her eyes were closed, and her palms were open up towards the sky as if in prayer. You felt like you were interrupting something sacred. Excitement jumped to your throat and before you could stop yourself, you asked, “princess…?”

She turned to look at you with partially lidded eyes. “What ever are you doing out here right now?” She asked with genuine confusion.

“I needed a breath of air. My husband, he…”

Before you could finish she held a hand up and offered a small shake of her head. “Needn’t worry to explain, then,” she said, appearing to come back to herself. “If the storm didn’t brew out of nowhere, and if I knew I’d run into you, I’d insist on taking you astride Syrax with me,” she said as she stepped into your space, eyes bright and dark alike. She freely reached for your hands and grabbed both of them. “There’s nothing quite as thrilling as dragon flying.”

This is more thrill than I’ve felt in a long time, you wanted to say. You wondered if the words flashed across your face. Briefly flustered, you smiled. “I, uhm… thank you, truly, princess. But I much prefer the ground.”

“That’s because you’ve never tried being in the sky,” she said, voice soft, so soft, as she leaned into you. “You cannot deny something so quickly if you haven’t tried it…”

Desire, excitement, and wonder filled her pretty eyes. Violet, and silver, and always donned in the loveliest gowns, you understood how the rumors of Targaryens being closer to Gods than men traveled all over the Seven Kingdoms. She was close enough that you felt her breath tickle your face. Smelled the oils of her skin. Something electric pulsed between your almost pressing bodies. “This is the closest I’ve been to a dragon and I am positively thrilled,” you whispered in reply, gently squeezing her hands.

“Sweet girl…,” she cooed as she tilted her head and pressed a delicate kiss to your waiting lips. Whatever pulsed between you before thrummed to life like a wardrum, now. You returned her kiss and that’s all she needed. Both her hands cupped your face as she deepened the affection, savoring the smoothness of your lips. Your tongue.

Just then the sky opened and emptied warm rain on the city. Within moments you were both soaked. Shock led to laughter as you both ran to find cover. Rain water dripped from your nose as you looked at Rhaenyra with renewed delight. “It came out of nowhere!” You said once in the dry safety of the Red Keep’s walls.

“Which part?” Asked the princess, mischievousness alighting all her features. She pulled you along, now, looking over her shoulder and daring you to keep pace with her.

Challenge accepted.

Arm in arm, you kept pace with Rhaenyra and paid little mind to any onlookers who might be giving you curious glances. She was light and quick on her feet and you were beginning to have a hard time keeping up with her. Still, the light air of playfulness danced around both of you.

An ornate door was guarded by a single man and the princess was quick to say, “you may be relieved from your post for now, ser.” He offered a bow before turning to leave. She opened the door and latched it once you were both inside. Locking it, she turned to face you with a smirk that had you giddy.

“What of your husband, princess? And mine?” Despite it only being the two of you in her private bedchamber, you whispered.

“Laenor and I have… we have found common ground with a pact, you see. He would be happy that I found joy and thrill in chasing you. No one will know of our kiss. That, I promise,” she said, mirroring your tone, as she traced the backs of her fingers along your jaw. Your neck. Whispering them over your collarbone. “As for your husband? Well… I haven’t even seen him kiss your cheek since you’ve been here. Such a shame.”

Your heart was doing flips in your belly. Your lord husband never made you feel like this. Not even on your wedding night. “Th-this–,” you started, uncharacteristically stammering, “–I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve only ever been with my husband.” Heat warmed your cheeks and you hoped she didn’t see it.

“That’s okay,” she purred. “Let me show you, my lady.” Her eyes searched yours. As soon as consent passed between you, she began to help you out of your wet gown. You helped her out of hers, too, and before too long you stood in front of each other in only your chemises; thin material doing little to hide your bodies.

Now on her bed, your curious fingers trembled over her skin as you explored her body. Your lips shuddered atop her flesh as you grazed tentative kisses along her. Your breath caught in your throat when she did all the same, and more, to you. She was so soft, and so warm, and so unlike anything you’d experienced before. Her hands on any and every part of your body had you melting further into her mattress. “Can you.. Can I…,” you said dreamily. “Can I feel your skin on mine?”

Grinning like a cat, Rhaenyra pulled your chemise over your head. She tugged hers off too. Leaning down, she balanced her weight atop you as she crashed her mouth to yours in the neediest hungriest kiss you’d ever experienced. Your breasts squished together, and your bellies, too, and it was the single most exciting thing you’d ever felt. “Can I finish taking all your clothes off?” She asked, half breathless, one hand snaking down to the ribbons of your smallclothes.

“Yes,” you panted. “Please,” you begged.

Having neither the will nor the want to keep you waiting, she obliged. She tugged the ribbons open before sliding the final garment down your legs. Kneeling on the edge of the bed she looked from the center of your body to your face, violet eyes dark with desire. “Spread your legs for me. I want to see all of you.”

A wave of shyness washed over you. Now, you were praying doubly that she didn’t see the blush of your face. Your legs parted with hesitation; butterflies roared from your scalp to your toes. It shouldn’t be embarrassing. It shouldn’t make you timid. But the intimacy, the lewdness, made your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

Rhaenyra watched all the while. Despite the clawing arousal in the pit of her own belly she let you go at your own pace and made no move to hasten or startle you. “Men often don’t appreciate the true beauty of a woman,” she said, low and gentle. “But I am no man and you are beautiful. Be a good girl and open them further. It will be worth it, I promise.”

Her words struck a chord in you. Before you fully realized what you were doing, your legs spilled open to expose the fullness of your eager cunt. It glistened with your arousal. The pink at your very center begged to be touched. To be spread. To welcome whatever Rhaenyra might bless you with. “Will you also take yours off?”

“Soon,” she answered all too quickly, already leaning forward between your parted thighs. “But first I want to kiss this pretty cunny.” And she did. She kissed the tender flesh at the inside of your thighs, your mound, your budded pearl. Her smooth mouth kissed again and again until you were squirming beneath her, and it was then, and only then, that she traced her warm tongue up your slit.

Your breathy gasps turned into a choking mewl at the sensation of her tongue. “Gods…!” You looked down at her and burned even hotter at the sight. “Please don’t stop, princess. Please don’t stop.”

Rhaenyra licked and lapped again and again, making no move to stop even as you shuddered beneath her. You were too warm, too lovely, and too responsive for her to even consider stopping. When she eventually ceased her licking, she instead sucked on your clit until she felt your entire cunt convulse and throb. Your sounds of pleasure were everything she imagined and more. As soon as you relaxed from your first peak she slid two fingers into your empty cunny. Working her tongue and digits in tandem, she gave you another climax. The natural tang of your body gave way to the sweetness of orgasm, and with that taste on her tongue she finally crashed her mouth to yours once again.

You whimpered into the affection, smiling and purring like a spoiled cat. “You’ve got a magical mouth, princess,” you said dreamily.

“How do you like your taste?” She asked, kissing you again, slower, deeper.

“Like I want more,” you said. “Let me taste you. You can guide me along. Show me how to make you feel good like you just did me.”

She giggled into your neck. “I know a way to make both of us feel good at the same time. Do you trust me?”

You nodded, the darkness of your eyes glittering with desire.

Rhaenyra discarded her smallclothes and positioned herself between your legs. “Relax and let me show you how to hold your legs, yes?” She spread yours a little wider while moving one of her own beneath your leg. She spread her other one wider and hooked it over your waist.

It was an odd position, one you’d never been in before, but one that immediately sent your blood soaring. She rolled her hips once. Once. And that’s all it took for you to feel the slickness of her cunt slide against your own. If you thought her mouth was magical it was only because you hadn’t yet felt her cunny against yours. You gasped sharply. “More,” you croaked, eyes black with lust.

“Move your pelvis with me,” she said thickly, lust darkening her features just as much as yours.

You happily obeyed. Your pleasure was her pleasure, and hers, yours, as you both rolled and ground your hips and pelvis in a delightfully obscene rhythm. Moans and whimpers were accented by the slick echoes of your centers. Your breasts started to bounce with the effort; both of your hands pressing and digging into any soft flesh it could find. You felt drunk. High. Buzzed on the saccharine scents of her skin and your combined arousal.

The shared pace grew firmer, quicker, sloppier. Sweat sheened your bodies. You both chased your high on the other’s cunt. You tumbled into orgasm first, white hot fire exploding out from your belly to every nerve of your body. Rhaenyra quickly followed.

You both rode it out slowly. Intensely. Savoring every second that passed between you.

When your limbs finally managed to untangle, she collapsed beside you and smiled. After a few moments of breath catching, she asked, “which was your favorite, my lady?” Her words breathless, her tone playful.

You hummed in thought. “I don’t quite know… I think I’ll need a reminder again, just to be sure.”

“I think we can arrange that,” she said with a laugh.

“Can we do this again?”

“As many times as we can sneak away together, I am happy to explore with you.”

You laid together for as long as you could, until the golden hour summoned you to the day’s final meal where you both said next to your husbands; relaxed and sated.

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