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ladyempty · 1 year ago

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Yandere Maegor, Daemon and Aegon I reaction to Reader running away and marrying someone else and having children?? Please 😭😭

° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life. | ° | English is not my first language. |

Aegon I

Aegon Targaryen I is the definition of a conqueror, courageous, intelligent and ambitious, with a friendly and captivating personality, easily lovable and admirable, but with few close friends. A certain air of enigma surrounded his figure, making people try to unravel him, attracted like moths by his light of monarchical dignity.

The king was comfortable and accustomed to sycophants, women dragging themselves for crumbs, or simply a single night in his bed. He was unfamiliar with something denied to him. He had "conqueror" in his name for a reason that went far beyond the submission of the other lords.

So it came as a complete shock when he was so bluntly denied when he approached you at one of the numerous banquets hosted by the royal family. At first, Aegon couldn't even process it, the features remained the same with a gentle smile and analyzing eyes and no words uttered. Like a person who was suddenly punched and in the first few seconds didn't understand or simply didn't know how to react. He just narrowed his purple eyes and watched you leave in an elegant bow.

The first time he was seriously denied, you hadn't done it to pique his interest, but rather to preserve your own honor, not wanting to be just another king's case knowing that he would return to Rhaenys at the end of the day. He admired this. If his plans were to push him away, you were not successful, you only made a dangerous obsession settle in your being.

He began to pursue you subtly, with gallant and courteous gestures, he urgently wanted to erase the first impression you had of him. Forcing the Targaryen to reveal his personality beyond the superficial, rambling for countless hours about some common interest and constantly summoning his presence, whether to read to him while I work or simply enjoy his warm presence.

And when his barriers were still not lowered, the king had to resort to more drastic measures, asking for her hand in marriage and making it clear that he would not accept being denied.

You would be softer when you were a wife and had duties towards him. The conqueror thought wrongly. Never in a thousand lifetimes did he expect you to run away. As soon as he found out, Aegon simply went crazy, the image made up of himself falling down the moment he threatened to destroy the entire seven kingdoms again if he didn't get you back.

Stone by stone, leaf by leaf. Everything was meticulously investigated by the countless guards spreading even through the most forgotten places by the gods. The Targaryen king became somewhat paranoid and easily irritated by his disappearance, not even Rhaenys could calm him down or change his mind. It was two years of pure torment.

Ah... When he finally found you in a small house in pentos... Married and obviously pregnant... It was like the world was open beneath your feet again. A loving feeling of betrayal. How dare you? Did you think that pathetic man could love you more than him?! How stupid.

He coldly killed her husband and none of her tears and pleas could change his mind. His heart was partially darkened by his betrayal. He won't forget anytime soon, you'll have to regain his trust to have the slightest amount of freedom. Countless guards will follow you closely, if you are even allowed to leave your quarters.

And your son? Don't worry, Aegon will assume paternity of the child even if it comes with rumors about having deflowered you before the wedding. It didn't matter. He just wouldn't let you mother a bastard or have that other man as a part of your life. Aenys was his heir anyway.

Maegor, The Cruel

You were certainly a very unlucky person to have caught the attention of the Targaryen king who was called cruel. You probably met at an event organized by him to celebrate one of his conquests, reaffirming his power and sovereignty as king, or you were one of his wives' ladies-in-waiting.

Whether you were from a big house, small house or even a commoner. It didn't matter. You were his the moment the king laid eyes on your enchanting figure.

Maegor was a man of few feelings, he didn't truly love any of his wives, it was lust mixed with the rational thought of creating heirs. But you were different, there was something special that made Maegor feel a bubbling sensation in his chest, a pleasant and addictive warmth like he had never felt before. It was something unfamiliar, one that he felt slightly hesitant to demonstrate or how to handle. But he just knew he wanted you and he would have you. At any cost.

Maegor was far from the definition of courteous, he knew little about the gallant arts or gentle love. Therefore, he had little knowledge about the courtship, the little he knew was from his mother's advice, who only knew about these things from the poets who surrounded Rhaenys.

Either way, he is not discreet. He doesn't even make an effort to appear less intimidating than he is. His eyes are fixed on you no matter the moment, his intimidating and darkening presence looming over you like a shadow. Once he even gave him a white fur coat, an animal he himself killed. It was his way of showing his interest. Something raw and rustic, without words, just proves to be worthy of you.

Either way, he wouldn't wait long. The moment he gets tired of waiting and the itch that grows in him is not relieved, he will attack. Demanding her hand in marriage from her, leaving no room for disagreement. He didn't expect you to run away in the middle of the night... Stupid little bird. Did you think he wouldn't come after you?

The man flew into a rage the moment he found out, destroying everything and everyone in his path, no matter if they were his wives, servants or important masters. Everyone should pay for his blinding rage. He turned the seven kingdoms into hell looking for you. A thick layer of blood, smoke, ash and corpse covering every corner of the kingdom.

And when he found you... Ah, dumb little bird, did he think he could hide for another year? Never.

He killed her husband the moment he saw the man, not even bothering to give him a painful death to pay for his crimes. He was as furious as a bull at the sight of any trace of red. He never thought about seriously hurting you, but he would have to punish you in a certain way to put you in your place. But his angry thoughts strayed the moment he caught sight of her swollen belly with a child.

A baby, that could and should be his. It was someone else's... It was an unforgivable betrayal. He could never fully forgive you. He would never forget or leave you alone for even a second.

He wouldn't kill the child, he would keep you away until you gave birth and then pretend that the child belonged to his lady-in-waiting, even if it was his child behind closed doors. It was a good way to keep tabs on you. Do you love your child? So better obey, you don't want something bad to happen, right?

Do not worry, dear. If you want to be a mother and wife so much, who would Maegor be to deny you that? You would be two things very soon.

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon was never a man to love madly, he fell in love a few times. He rolled from bed to bed without a fixed commitment, just looking for momentary fun and vague pleasures. He indulged in his desires without shame. Bad luck for you to have been so captivating. He was hooked on you the moment their eyes met his.

Any slight affection he ever had for other women and men was forgotten. For you he felt love. Real love that went beyond lust. After all, he had never touched you intimately and he already had such overwhelming feelings.What was it if not love? You were his only thought.The first thought when waking up and the last when going to bed.

And Daemon had no intention of hiding his affection. His hands constantly find their way to your shoulders or start from your waist, a touch that lingers on a simple handshake and a look so intense that it would make anyone else tremble in fear.

As expected, rumors were created questioning his honor and how terrible the prince was. When his father went to confront him, Daemon just smiled mischievously and just said he would marry you. To everyone's great surprise, after all, the Targaryen had demonstrated his unhappiness during his first marriage.

But you weren't like that woman uglier than a sheep. You were perfect in every aspect and in the very definition of the word. Something to be admired every day.

It was a strong, stunning blow when you disappeared during the night, your maids only finding cold, wrinkled sheets when they went to wake you up that morning.

Where in the seven hell were you? He would find you... You couldn't run away.

He destroyed, killed, tortured and threatened. He spent days flying with Caraxes to every corner of the seven kingdoms just to find you. Unsuccessfully. A long year without having your favorite addiction... You.

He drowned himself in e wine while you were gone, nursing a bubbling rage and constantly exploding at everyone, scaring even Viserys, who thought he had seen the worst side of his brother.

But nothing lasts forever. He found you. He invaded your home in Essos without hesitation. He didn't kill your husband at first because his stunned mind simply refused to understand that you had betrayed him in such a disgusting way.

But the moment she saw the little newborn baby in her arms. He understood everything.The black sister ran through her pathetic husband without mercy, blood spatter staining his robes in small crimson droplets.The cold, darkened eyes like never before were directed at you.

For a moment you feared for the baby's life, placing the small bundle against your chest to protect it.

"Don't worry, I would never hurt our son." He smiles as he says each word slowly. He would legitimize that child as his and didn't care what he would say. A good way to keep you behaved and not tarnish his bloodline with bastards. Obviously he would love his own children more with you, but he wouldn't show it so openly. You're lucky the child looks so much like you…

#yandere x reader #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #Yandere Maegor Targaryen #maegor Targaryen x reader #aegon the conqueror #yandere daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryan #Aegon the conqueror x Reader

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just-some-user-hunny · 9 months ago

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The Cannibal bonded with a bastard targaryen reader ...

This is heavily inspired by @mangled-parasite writings on their yandere hotd stuff. I wanted to go more in depth about the relationship a bastard princess reader would have with the cannibal, because the dynamics could be so diverse and interesting. The cannibal is a really interesting dragon to me as well, he's not been tames nor shows any interest in it, so I always wonder what he'd be like with a rider!

(fem! Bastard princess reader X the cannibal)

. If you are bonded to him, he would be ruthlessly protective over you. He can feel every flicker of distress and discomfort from you, and he bares his teeth like a guard dog at whoever draws too close. Once he had decided that you were his, and he was yours, his fury when it comes to protecting you rivals hellfire. You will never have to feel fear again, nothing can even dream of touching you- lest they want to experience the nightmarish wrath of the Cannibal. It matters little to him if this threat is human, or dragon. In fact he almost welcomes it. He loves the rush of destroying whatever threatens you, the pride that fills him when he charres their remains and feasts upon them In front you- because look princess. Look how mighty he is, look how well he can fight and protect you. After his gory feast, he'll lower himself close to your little form for his praise- purring till your blood fizzles as he enjoys your pets and attention.

. Cannibal has never been a tame or passive dragon, but around you, he'll make an effort to behave. He'll stave away his urges to salivate when he captures glimpses of the smaller dragons, if it makes you happy. He'll heed your voice, your words, if only to amuse you and keep you content. However, he still has a temper- and although he may not engulf everything with wildfire, he will surely growl and roar to make people bend their knee in your presence. His bond to you is tightly knitted, so he can pick up those who are irking you or upsetting you. He shares your hatred for your father, often bearing his frightening jagged teeth at the pale man who can only endure the monstrosity of his daughter's dragon. It'll take only your word to engulf him in burning emerald flames, so for once, your father will hold his tongue.

. He is not an obedient dog, more like a feral alley cat who's taken a warming to you. There's not a force in heaven or hell that can convince him to confide anywhere near the dragon pits, not to mention his monstrous size cannot even imagine squeezing itself into that little ditch. He'll take to sleeping upon the beach, preferably away from vhager, if he wants to remain close to you. However he is known to fly off and disappear for days on end, returning when you least expect it. He is a wild dragon at heart.

. He may not melt into a big passive puppy, but he will surely let you know he likes the attention you give him. He'll croon with his snarling scarred grin, his eyes glinting as you speak to him and stay close. The attitude he has around you is stark like night and day- with others he glares ferociously and mean, but with you, he's bound by your heels.

When you approach him upon the sand of the tide, he'll lower his head to gaze upon you. he'll feel content as he looks you over, appearing docile and calm in your presence.

Your family find it terrifyingly odd whenever you approach him with so much casualty, and he simply looks at you so fondly. The dragon who has devoured oh so many wannabe dragon tamers is now treating you like a precious little treasure, and it's both awe-inspiring, and frightening. His striking emerald green eyes focus on you as you speak sweetly and softly to him, his purrs can be heard from the dragonstone gates.

. The cannibal is an ancient dragon with many years of experience, so to him, you are little more than a child in his eyes. His child.

If anything, he is more of a loving father to you than Daemon could ever be.

It's puzzling to him, at first. He has never possessed a single maternal bone in his body, having no objection to devouring unhatched eggs and even young hatched dragons to satiate his hunger- but perhaps he sees a part of him in you. That wildness to stray, the desperation to free yourself from the thorns of the targarians that dig deep into you. You may be a little gentle weepy thing, but the fact still stands. You want to be free. He can grant that.

As you claim him as a child, he'll watch you grow. Watch your face and hands become weary from the anxiety and ache of constantly being caged. You'll gradually become more and more beautiful, dripping in gems and jewellery and ornate gowns, but the sadness in your eyes hasn't changed since you were a tearful little child. He sees what they are doing- trying to keep you satiated with material desires, but he understands you deep down that nothing of that matters. You want to be anywhere else but here...

. He is an old dragon, and has a temper to him. His hunger for flesh and fire has not made him weary, and although he is scarred and withered, he is still towering in all his obsideon scaled glory. Emerald flames engulfing the sky as you ride upon his back, soaring above the clouds as pride and glory consumes him. He always despises the idea of being 'claimed' and ridden like some show pony, but he finds himself enjoying the company of his little human experiencing the rush of gliding through the heavens. He can feel your thundering heart, the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as he dips and soars between terrific heights, and he can't help but grin a scarred and twisted smile, egged on by your delight of the views and freedom. Yes! This is freedom, my little princess. Let us not be chained by those targarians, this is what living is!

He certainly likes challenging you, obviously not to the point he puts you in any danger of course- but he'll dive at gut churning speeds to see what'll make you shriek. It's almost like He finds amusement out of it, perhaps getting a little kick out of challenging his rider. Once he has landed however with you safely back on the ground, he'll look at you with his gnarled smirk and expect just a little push from you. Don't take it to heart though, his princess. You'll get gently prodded and nudged by his snout to check on you to make sure you're alright. He is still protective over you, after all. His cruelty will not extend to your pain. Besides, you are more often than not riding him bareback, so he would never fly so recklessly that you'd get bucked off. Most of the time he's holding back, really.

. That is not to say that each time you climb upon his back that you will endure terror, because that is surely not the case. He loves flying with you, loves feeling your awe and wonder. It fills him with unbridled pride and ego. You can both feel freedom, and freedom is all he wants for himself and his rider alike.

. As his rider, you have a good chance of escaping the talons of your family. Who is to stop you? The mad prince, Daemon, and his blood wyrm? Cannibal could laugh at the mere thought of this deranged man challenging him with his little red pest. Even the one eyed prince and his ancient she-dragon, Vhagar, will be a welcomed challenge. When it comes to you, he'd do anything.

#yandere hotd #The cannibal #hotd cannibal #dragon cannibal #hotd x reader #yandere house of the dragon #yandere cannibal #hotd cannibal x reader #dragons #hotd dragons #dragon x reader #bastard!princess reader

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rottenfyre · 7 months ago

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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐌𝐲 𝐝♡ve 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 1

Summary: You never thought Aegon be like this. You though that he's probably like all the other rich kids who are only upset because daddy didn't given them money. But you couldn't have been more wrong...

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

PART 2, PART 3, PART 4

He hadn't said a word since entering the room, only slouched low in his chair, his bloodshot eyes tracing patterns in the ceiling like he was watching something she couldn’t see. His bleach-blonde hair was messy, like he hadn't bothered to run a comb through it in days, and the bags under his eyes suggested he hadn’t slept in even longer.

The silence was unnerving, and she hated it. The ticking clock in the corner of the room sounded like gunfire in the stillness. She cleared her throat and tried to start professionally. "Aegon," she began, her voice soft but steady, "how are you feeling today?"

He chuckled—a low, grating sound that didn’t reach his eyes. "How am I feeling?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Isn't that a bit cliché? Isn’t that what all therapists ask? I’m not here for small talk, sweetheart."

The way he said sweetheart made her skin crawl. It wasn’t the word itself but the way it slithered off his tongue, sharp and mocking. She shifted in her seat, trying to maintain her calm. "I’m just trying to understand where you’re at. You don't have to say anything you don’t want to."

He smirked, a twisted, unsettling expression that seemed more like a grimace. "Oh, I bet you want to understand me. You think you're gonna fix me? Is that it? Make me better, turn me into a functioning little cog in this shitty world?"

There was an edge to his voice, something dangerous beneath the surface. His eyes were unfocused, distant, as though she wasn’t even there. Y/N felt a chill settle in her chest, but she pushed forward, reminding herself that this was just another patient. A deeply troubled one, yes, but still just a man. She was trained for this.

"I’m not here to fix you, Aegon," she replied carefully. "I’m here to listen and help if I can."

His head snapped toward her so quickly she flinched. He caught it, of course, and his grin widened, predatory now. "You’re scared of me, aren’t you?" he said softly, like he was sharing a secret. "Good. You should be."

Aegon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at her with intensity that made her skin prickle. "You ever felt like nothing matters, doc? Like every fucking thing is just… pointless? No matter how much you drink, snort, or fuck, it never fills that hole inside you. It just… eats at you, every second of every day, until you can't take it anymore."

His voice was a low growl now, rough around the edges, filled with bitterness. "That's what it’s like in here." He tapped the side of his head, his gaze boring into her, daring her to look away. "Rotten. Empty. Dead. I tried to end it once, you know. Got close, too. But they wouldn’t even let me do that right. My family sent me to you instead. So now here I am, playing the part. But let’s be real—you can't fix this."

There was a rawness to his words that cut through her usual defenses. Y/N felt herself teetering on the edge of something she didn’t want to fall into. His pain was palpable, but it wasn’t the pain of someone who wanted to be saved.

"You don't have to believe in this process," she finally said, her voice tight. "But it’s important that you give it a chance."

Aegon tilted his head, studying her like she was some puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. His eyes were glassy, unfocused again, and his smile faltered, giving way to something deeper, more sinister. "You’re not like the others," he muttered, almost to himself. "Most of them are easy to read. But you… I can't quite tell if you’re really here to help or if you just like playing the part."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. There was something unnervingly perceptive about him. He wasn’t just a lost soul spiraling into self-destruction—he was calculating, watching her reactions, testing her boundaries. And it was working. She didn’t like how vulnerable she felt under his gaze.

Y/N straightened in her chair, trying to regain control of the conversation. "I’m here to help, Aegon. That’s my job."

He scoffed, leaning back again, dismissive. "Help," he repeated bitterly. "You wanna help? You can't even help yourself."

His words hit harder than she expected, striking at something deep inside her, and for a moment, she faltered. She wasn’t prepared for how sharp he was, how quickly he cut through her professional veneer. There was something primal in the way he spoke, in the way he moved, that felt less like therapy and more like a predator playing with his prey.

"You look tired," he continued, eyes narrowing. "Overworked. You got that hollow look in your eyes, too. Like me. How long before you break, huh? How long before you’re the one on the other side of this desk?"

Her breath hitched slightly, and Aegon’s smile grew wider, more triumphant. He leaned in close, his voice a low whisper that sent chills down her spine. "Maybe we’re not so different after all, doc. Maybe you’re just as fucked up as I am."

Y/N’s hand trembled, and she clenched it into a fist, trying to steady herself. She needed to end this session—now. But she couldn’t show weakness. Not to him. "Our time is almost up," she said, her voice firmer than she felt. "We’ll continue this next week."

She checked the clock. He was due in ten minutes.

Her hand brushed the edge of her desk, fingers drumming a quiet, nervous rhythm. She told herself it would be fine. She had control. This was her space, her field. But the knot in her stomach tightened with every second that passed.

A knock on the door broke the silence. Her heart leapt in her chest.

"Come in" she called, trying to keep her voice steady.

The door swung open, and there he was, leaning casually against the frame, eyes half-lidded like he couldn't be bothered to care about anything. Aegon strolled into the room with an easy arrogance, tossing himself into the chair like he owned the place. He wore the same leather jacket from last week, cigarette burns dotting its sleeve, his jeans ripped and filthy. His disheveled blonde hair caught the afternoon light, giving him an almost angelic glow, which was disturbingly ironic.

"Doc" he greeted, his voice slick and lazy. "Miss me?"

Y/N forced herself to meet his gaze. "Aegon," she said calmly, ignoring his provocations. "How are you feeling today?"

He chuckled, a low sound that rumbled through the room. "Oh, I'm fantastic. Just spent the last few hours getting plastered. Wanna guess how much vodka it takes before you stop feeling like your head is caving in?"

She hesitated. "Did you... did you drink before coming here?"

Aegon gave her a crooked smile, his eyes gleaming with something dark. "Nah, don't worry, sweetheart. I'm sober enough to remember your name. For now."

He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving hers. "But seriously, let's cut the bullshit. You're not here to ask me how I'm doing. You're here to dissect me, right? Get inside my head. See what makes the fucked-up bitch tick."

Y/N's throat tightened at the way he said bitch-dripping with disdain, self-hatred. His family, the Targaryens, were a wealthy, powerful lineage, tied up politics and scandal. She'd heard the rumors: how Aegon was the black sheep, a public embarrassment, the one they all whispered about behind closed doors. It wasn't hard to see why.

"I'm here to help," she said, trying to regain control of the session. "But that only works if you're willing to engage with the process."

His smirk widened. "You think l'm not engaging? l'm sitting right here, aren't I?" He paused, his gaze growing more intense. "Unless what you really want is for me to spill my guts to you. You want to know what makes me tick, doc? Fine. Let me tell you."

There was something unsettling about the way he shifted in his chair, like a predator getting comfortable before striking. His smile faded, replaced with a cold, hollow expression that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I hate everything," he began, his voice flat, detached. "I hate waking up. I hate breathing. I hate the sound of my own fucking voice. I hate this-" He gestured around the room, his fingers trembling slightly."一all this therapy bullshit. I hate my family. I hate the way they look at me like l'm some broken toy they can't fix."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But you know what I really hate? The fact that no matter what I do, nothing makes me feel alive. Drugs? Alcohol? Sex? It's just noise. All of it. And I'm so fucking tired of feeling empty."

His words hung in the air like smoke, choking the room. Y/N felt the urge to recoil, to put some distance between them, but she couldn't. There was something magnetic about him, a dark pull that made it hard to look away.

"You think I want to be here?" he continued, his eyes burning with intensity. "My family dragged me to this fucking place because I tried to put a bullet in my brain last month. They thought therapy would 'fix' me. But they don't get it. They never did."

He leaned back, letting out a bitter laugh. "But you know what's funny? Sitting here, looking at you, I almost want to believe it. l almost want to see if you can figure me out, doc. Maybe you'll crack the code."

His eyes bored into hers, and for a split second, Y/N swore she saw something vulnerable flicker behind the mask- something raw and desperate. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual cold sneer.

"You think you can handle that?" he asked softly. "Think you can fix someone who doesn't want to be fixed?"

Y/N's grip on her pen tightened. Her throat felt dry, her palms clammy. There was no easy answer to his question, no textbook response to the way he twisted everything around him into chaos. But she knew one thing-Aegon wasn't just here to be saved. He was here to test her, to see how far he could push before she cracked.

"l'm not here to fix you, Aegon,' she said, repeating her earlier sentiment. "But I am here to listen. To understand."

He snorted, shaking his head. "Listen to what? My sob story? Poor little rich boy, drinking and fucking his way through life, all because he's sad? You really think there's anything left to understand?"

Y/N met his gaze head-on, refusing to flinch. "I think there's more to you than what you're showing me."

Aegon went still, his smirk vanishing as his eyes locked onto hers. For a moment, it felt like the room shrank, the walls closing in, leaving just the two of them in an uncomfortable silence. He stared at her, unblinking, and she could feel the weight of his scrutiny, like he was peeling back layers she didn't even know existed.

"You really believe that?" he asked quietly, his voice soft for the first time since he walked in. "That there's something worth saving?"

Her chest tightened, but she nodded. "I do."

Aegon let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into fists. His eyes darted to the floor, and for a split second, he looked vulnerable, lost, like a boy drowning in a sea of emotions he couldn't control.

But then the mask was back. The smirk. The mocking tone. "Well, doc" he said, standing up suddenly, towering over her. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

He turned on his heel and strode toward the door, his movements confident and careless, as though he hadn't just let her glimpse the broken pieces hidden beneath the surface.

Just before he stepped out, he paused, glancing back at her. "I'll be seeing you again, doc. And maybe next time, we'll get to the fun stuff."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Y/N alone in the room with the heavy silence that always followed him. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, her heart pounding in her chest.

There was something deeply unsettling about Aegon一something that made her feel like she was in way over her head.

The third session was different. The air in Y/N’s office felt heavier, thicker. She could sense it the moment Aegon walked in. His eyes, normally sharp with that mocking edge, were duller today. His movements more erratic. The usual arrogant saunter was replaced by something twitchy, unstable. He slouched into his chair, tapping his leg rapidly, the rhythm almost frantic.

His fingers moved to his mouth, picking at his nails, tearing at the skin until she saw faint streaks of red. He didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

“Good morning, Aegon,” Y/N began cautiously, watching him closely. “How are you today?”

He snorted but didn’t look at her, his eyes darting around the room like he was searching for something he’d never find. “How do you think I’m feeling?” he muttered, biting down hard on the side of his nail until it cracked and blood welled up.

Y/N felt her stomach twist, but she kept her voice steady. “It seems like you’re on edge today. Do you want to talk about it?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His leg tapped faster, his jaw tight. “Does it even fucking matter?” he muttered under his breath. His hands trembled slightly as he dug his nails into his palms, leaving angry red marks. "None of this shit matters. Not you, not me. It’s all just... noise."

She stayed silent, giving him space to speak, watching his body language as the tension in the room escalated. He was unraveling, fraying at the edges, and it was becoming harder to predict where he might break.

“I keep thinking about that night,” he said suddenly, his voice hollow. “That night I almost did it.”

He didn’t need to explain further; she knew what he meant. The night he tried to take his own life.

“I was this close, you know?” he continued, holding his fingers up to show just how narrow the gap was between life and death. “But then my fucking family showed up and ruined it. Dragged me out of my misery and threw me into this shitshow. Therapy, rehab, whatever else they think will fix me. But nothing’s going to fix me. I’m not broken. I’m just done.”

Y/N swallowed, choosing her words carefully. “Aegon, I know you’re in pain. But there are other ways to cope. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He snapped his gaze to hers, a sudden wildness flashing in his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you? None of this is about pain. It’s about being fucking empty. Do you know what that feels like? To be so hollow inside that no amount of drugs, booze, or people can fill it?”

She blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “I don’t,” she admitted, her voice softer than she intended. “But I’m here to understand. If you’ll let me.”

Aegon’s laughter was bitter, almost manic. “Understand? You think you can understand me? No one understands. Everyone thinks I’m some tragic fucking mess just because I have money and a pretty face, but that’s why they keep coming back, isn’t it? They don’t care if I’m broken. They care because I’m rich, because I’m still good-looking enough for them to pretend for a night that I’m something more.”

He paused, his leg still bouncing, eyes narrowed and locked on hers with unsettling intensity. “Even you. You sit there, all composed and professional, pretending to care. But deep down, I know you don’t. You’re just waiting for your paycheck like the rest of them.”

Y/N frowned. “That’s not true, Aegon. I’m here because I want to help.”

He leaned forward abruptly, his eyes wild and feverish. “You don’t get it, do you? None of this matters! You can’t help me, no one can, and I’m so fucking tired of everyone pretending that you can!”

The energy in the room shifted abruptly. His voice rose, turning sharp and angry, his breathing quickening. She could see him unraveling, could feel the way his entire demeanor was changing—darker, more dangerous.

“I’m not some fucking experiment!” he screamed, his voice cracking as he stood up from his chair so suddenly that it toppled over. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you? Sitting there with your calm face, acting like you’re not fucking scared of me. But I can see it, I can feel it—”

“Aegon, calm down,” Y/N said, her heart racing, hands instinctively tightening around the arms of her chair. “I’m not trying to control you.”

But her words seemed to push him further over the edge. His face twisted with rage, and before she could react, he lunged toward her, grabbing her by the shoulders, his grip almost painful.

“You think you know me?” he shouted, his face inches from hers, tears welling in his eyes. “You think you can fix me? You think you can save me from this hell?”

His grip tightened, shaking her, but before Y/N could register her own fear, something inside her snapped—an instinct she hadn’t known she had. Instead of pulling away, instead of screaming or trying to push him off, she reached out and pulled him into an embrace.

Aegon froze.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly despite the tremor in her own hands, despite the rapid pounding of her heart. “Aegon,” she whispered, her voice steady even though she felt anything but. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

For a moment, he stood there, tense and unresponsive. His body was rigid, his breathing erratic, and she could feel the anger vibrating through him, threatening to explode again. But then, slowly, something shifted. His hands, which had been gripping her shoulders so tightly, loosened. His body sagged against hers, like all the fight had drained out of him in one overwhelming rush.

“I’m not okay,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so fucked up, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Y/N tightened her arms around him, feeling his hot, uneven breath against her neck. “You don’t have to stop it alone.”

He let out a choked sob, his body trembling against hers as he broke down, the tears he had been holding back spilling over. He clung to her like a lifeline, his face buried in her shoulder, his breath hitching with each quiet, painful sob.

“I don’t want to be like this,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

Y/N held him, her own emotions swirling inside her, a mixture of fear, pity, and something else she couldn’t quite name. She stroked his back gently, trying to soothe the storm inside him. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you don’t.”

Aegon’s sobs quieted after a while, his grip on her softening but never letting go completely. He pressed his face into her shoulder, his breathing still uneven, but calmer now. The anger and violence had passed, leaving only the raw, vulnerable boy beneath.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours—Aegon clinging to her, and Y/N holding him as if her arms were the only thing tethering him to the world.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her. His eyes were red and swollen, his face streaked with tears, and for the first time since they met, she saw him without the mask.

Aegon was broken, but not in the way he pretended to be. Not just a reckless addict or a wealthy, self-destructive mess. He was something else, something much more fragile than she had imagined.

And that scared her more than anything.

He swallowed hard, his voice a quiet rasp. “W-why did you do that?”

Y/N met his gaze, unsure how to answer. She didn’t know why. It was instinct, something she hadn’t planned, something that felt both right and terribly dangerous at the same time.

“Because I wanted to,” she said softly.

Aegon stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers like he was trying to find something—some kind of answer, some kind of reassurance that she wouldn’t leave him like everyone else had.

Finally, he nodded, and without another word, he leaned back into her embrace, resting his head on her shoulder, his breathing evening out as they sat there, together in the quiet, broken pieces of their shared moment.

And for the first time, Y/N wasn’t sure if she was the one trying to save him—or if he was dragging her into the darkness with him.

The room was eerily silent when Aegon walked in this time. The familiar twitch in his leg was absent, the nervous energy that usually radiated off him replaced with something else—something that made Y/N’s skin prickle. His eyes were still as sharp as ever, but now they were focused. Too focused. He looked at her with an intensity that felt almost suffocating.

He sat down slowly, his movements no longer erratic but deliberate. He didn’t fidget, didn’t bite at his nails. Instead, he folded his hands neatly in his lap and leaned back in the chair, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Good morning, Aegon,” she greeted him cautiously, sensing the shift in his demeanor.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice smoother than she was used to. Calm, almost unnervingly so. He looked... composed. For the first time since they started these sessions, he didn’t seem like a bomb waiting to go off. But something about that felt even more dangerous.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze still locked on hers. “Better,” he said softly. “Much better, actually.”

Y/N hesitated. “That’s good to hear. Do you want to talk about what’s been helping?”

Aegon smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve found a new hobby,” he said, his voice almost too casual, like he was talking about something mundane. “Something to keep me... occupied.”

A ripple of unease washed over her. “What kind of hobby?”

Aegon nodded, his eyes gleaming with an odd sort of excitement. “I found this beautiful dove. Just… sitting there, all alone. She's perfect. White feathers, soft. You ever touch a dove before?”

“No,” Y/N said slowly, her stomach beginning to churn.

Aegon’s smile widened. “You should. They’re so fragile, you know? So delicate. It’s like… like holding something that could break if you squeeze too hard.” His fingers twitched, as if mimicking the act of squeezing. “I’ve been taking care of her. Watching her.”

Y/N nodded slowly, unsure where this was going but feeling an icy tendril of dread curl around her spine. “That sounds nice. Taking care of something can be a good way to—”

“I want to rip her wings off.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the casual cruelty in his tone sending a chill down her spine. Aegon’s expression hadn’t changed; he still wore that same unsettling smile.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

His eyes were bright now, shining with an eerie intensity. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. About how beautiful she is, but how much better it would be if she couldn’t fly away. If I could keep her with me, forever. If she couldn’t go anywhere else, just… mine.”

Y/N felt the bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down, keeping her voice steady. “Aegon, that’s—”

“Isn’t that what love is?” he interrupted, his eyes wide, his expression so sincere, so disturbingly genuine. “You love something so much that you can’t stand the thought of it leaving. So you do whatever you have to, to make sure it stays. Even if that means taking something away. Like wings.”

“Aegon, that’s not—”

“But it makes sense, doesn’t it?” he continued, his voice rising slightly with excitement, as if he had stumbled upon some great revelation. “Why should something so beautiful get to leave? Why should she get to fly away and leave me behind? She doesn’t need wings. She just needs me.”

Y/N felt the room closing in around her, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She had dealt with disturbed patients before, but this… this was different. Aegon wasn’t just unstable. He was dangerous. She could feel it in the air, in the way his gaze bore into her, in the way his words seemed to twist around her, suffocating her.

It had been two weeks since that conversation in her office, and Aegon had come to every session since. Something had shifted after that day—something subtle but unnerving.

The way he looked at her now, the way he lingered on her every movement, made Y/N feel more vulnerable than ever before.

“Morning, Aegon,” Y/N said, her voice steady but her pulse quickening slightly. She had grown used to reading him in subtle ways—the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers would twitch against his leg, and that obsessive stare. But today, it felt heavier.

“Morning sweetheart,” he replied smoothly, his voice quiet but deliberate.

Y/N tried to proceed with the session as usual, asking him questions, probing his thoughts, but his answers were vague, almost detached, as if he wasn’t really interested in discussing himself anymore. He wasn’t playing the part of the tragic, self-destructive mess. He was... different.

“You seem a little more composed today,” Y/N commented, keeping her tone neutral. “How are you feeling about everything? Still feeling as empty as before?”

Aegon’s lips twitched into a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Empty? No, not so much anymore.” His gaze was fixed on her in a way that made the room feel smaller. “I’ve been... paying attention to other things lately. Other people.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “Other people? What do you mean?”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes still glued to hers, but his body language more relaxed than usual. “You know, the people around me. The ones who matter. The ones who actually care.”

There was an implication in his words that sent a shiver down her spine. “And who do you think cares, Aegon?”

His smile widened, but it was the kind of smile that felt wrong, too intimate. “You do.”

Y/N blinked, trying to maintain her composure. She had to remind herself that she was the professional here, that this was her job, and she couldn’t let him get under her skin. But the way he was looking at her made it hard to breathe.

“I’m here to help you, yes,” she replied calmly. “That’s what therapy is about.”

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he were studying her. “That’s not what I mean.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it was enough to make her pulse quicken again. “You care about me... in a different way.”

Y/N felt her skin prickle with unease. She forced herself to remain professional, to push through the growing discomfort. “Aegon, we’ve talked about this before. My role is to help you as your therapist. Nothing more.”

His smile didn’t falter. “You keep saying that, but we both know there’s more to it. I can see the way you look at me now. You’re not scared anymore. What you said. How you held me. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You care.”

“I’m here to help,” she repeated firmly, though her voice wavered slightly.

Aegon didn’t say anything for a moment. He just watched her, his eyes tracking every movement, every flicker of emotion on her face. It was like he was dissecting her with his gaze, trying to pick her apart piece by piece.

Finally, he leaned forward slightly, his smile fading into something more serious. “You looked really good last night, by the way.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. “What?”

“In your pajamas,” he added, his voice casual, as if he were commenting on the weather. “The ones you wore when you made tea. Light blue, with the little lace trim. You really should wear those more often.”

For a moment, the world around her went silent. All she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. Aegon was staring at her, unblinking, his expression disturbingly calm, like he had just complimented her on her shoes or her hair.

Her mind raced. How did he know? There was no way he could have seen her last night. Her apartment was on the third floor, and she lived alone. She had made tea before bed, just like every night, but how could he possibly know that?

“Aegon,” she began, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. “What... what do you mean?”

He just smiled, that same disturbing smile that never quite reached his eyes. “I just think you looked nice, that’s all.”

The room felt like it was closing in on her, her skin crawling with the weight of his words. Her mind reeled, her heart hammering in her chest. How did he know what I was wearing last night?

Her breath came in shallow gasps, the panic rising in her throat as she tried to process the implications. Had he been watching her? Was he following her outside of their sessions? The thought sent a wave of nausea through her.

“Aegon,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What are you talking about?”

But before he could answer, the soft chime of the clock signaled the end of their session. Aegon stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. He stretched, glancing at her with that same unsettling smile, and then made his way to the door.

“I guess we’ll have to pick this up next time,” he said casually, as if they had been discussing nothing more than the weather.

He paused at the door, turning back to look at her one last time, his eyes lingering on her with that same unnerving intensity. “See you soon, Y/N.”

And then he was gone, leaving Y/N alone in the room, her heart racing, her mind spinning with fear and uncertainty.

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a long moment, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The air felt thick, suffocating, as the weight of his words sank in.

He was watching me.

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

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0silver0dreams0 · 3 days ago

Text

"Whispers of Devotion"

Pt. IV

Yandere House of the dragon x ModernReborn!Reader

Summarized: As tensions escalate, (your name) finds herself caught between conflicting emotions and the manipulative forces around her. The arrival of Jacaerys and Aegon only deepens the complexity of her relationships, leaving her at a crossroads as secrets unravel.

Warning: Emotional manipulation, jealousy and possessiveness, conflict and tension, obsessive behaviour and emotional distress.

<< Pt. 3 — masterlist — Pt. 5 >> (Coming Soon)

The morning air in King’s Landing felt heavier than usual, thick with unspoken tension that settled over the Red Keep like an impending storm. You had barely touched your breakfast, though you felt the weight of your mother’s gaze on you with each passing moment. She had been distant since yesterday, you know that she will show her disapproval manifesting in subtle yet undeniable ways. The sharpness of her tone, the way she scrutinized your every movement—it was suffocating.

“Eat,” she instructed, her voice devoid of warmth as she took a sip of her cup. “You have a full day ahead of you.”

You picked up your spoon, but your appetite was nonexistent. Alicent exhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around the handle of her cup. “You have been neglecting your lessons,” she said coolly. “That ends today.”

Your stomach twisted. She had noticed. You had thought you were being careful, slipping away when you were certain no one was watching, but Alicent was always watching, your mother is always watching. Still, she did not push further—not yet, you know that now you will be punish again.

Across the table, Aemond sat with an eerie stillness, one hand curled around his cup, the other resting on the hilt of his sword. His eye was fixed on you, unwavering, unreadable. The way he watched you made your skin crawl, as if he know something forbidden and he were trying to decipher every hidden thought you held.

“Are you unwell, sister?” His voice was deceptively calm, yet there was an underlying current of something more—some rage or anger trying to be hidden.

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, forcing yourself to take a bite. The food tasted like ash in your mouth, he was suspecting something.

Alicent’s gaze flickered between the two of you before she sighed, setting her cup down with a quiet clink. “Aemond, you will escort your sister to her lessons, now on. Ensure she does not… wander.”

Your stomach dropped.

Aemond’s lips curled slightly—not a smile, but something close. “Of course, Mother.”

The rest of breakfast passed in stifling silence. When it was finally over, Aemond rose from his seat and extended a hand toward you. You hesitated, but under Alicent’s watchful eye, refusing was not an option. Reluctantly, you placed your hand in his, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

The moment you were alone in the corridors, Aemond’s grip tightened ever so slightly. Not painful, but firm. Possessive.

“You’ve been weird lately,” he murmured as you walked. “Your attitude has been strange, as if you were worried about something.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, your voice carefully measured.

His thumb brushed against the inside of your wrist, almost absentmindedly, but the touch made your breath hitch. “Don’t lie to me.”

You swallowed, glancing away. “I wouldn’t.”

Aemond hummed, his grip finally loosening as he guided you toward the training yard. You exhaled slowly, relieved by the distance, only to realize he had not truly let you go—his presence loomed over you, a silent promise that he was watching. That he knew more than he was letting on.

You felt caged.

The feeling only worsened as the morning passed. Aemond was everywhere, an ever-present shadow at your side. His presence left you feeling intoxicated, not in the way Alaric did, with his soft whispers and stolen touches, but in a way that made your head pound. You needed space. You needed air.

And then, when you comeback of pray with you mother, you could feel the tension could not get any worse.

“Princess Rhaenyra has arrived with her family,” a voice announced.

Aemond stiffened beside you. Alicent, who had been standing nearby, inhaled sharply.

For the first time in years, Rhaenyra was here.

Your heartbeat roared in your ears, you don’t want that feeling comeback again, the feeling that Jacaerys made in you, you don’t know what it is, but you hate it.

Your mother turned to you, her expression unreadable, but there was something in her eyes—an unspoken warning, a command.

Your stomach twisted, shit just when you could walk in the gardens and have a little time for yourself, you know that you would have to conform with just go to the library and be in your chambers.

You were about to face the fact that you would have to sneak just for you to go to the gardens and have a walk.

When Rhaenyra and her family try to go towards you, you mother told you to go to your chamber and stay there, and for you to get ready for a trial.

The trial over the inheritance of House Velaryon dragged on for what felt like an eternity, with accusations and counterarguments thrown like daggers in the throne room. You stand there with an objection, you could feel everyone whispers, the tension looks and the unswerving feeling that everything would just get worse. The air was thick with tension, yet in the midst of it all, you had found a moment of fleeting warmth—a shared smile with Alaric.

Is smile just make things better, you know and he knows that after this, your mother and brothers will be busy with the “guests” and then, you could see each other in that special place of the two. Just that brief smile, makes you feel so much better.

It had been brief, special and barely noticeable to most, but not to Jacaerys.

Jacaerys, who saw that smile, just make him feel like as if you were a treasure slipping from his grasp, as if you were having an affair, betraying him. The moment your lips had curved, however slightly, his stomach twisted with something dark and jealousy. It was not just anger—it was possessiveness, rage, an aching need to claim what he believed know was his. The mere thought of someone else pulling a smile from you, someone who was not him, filled him with quiet rage.

He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to school his expression, but his mind was already spiraling. He needed to know what is happening between you and that knight. He needed to be sure that it was just is imagination. And so, when the trial ended and the crowd began to disperse, Jacaerys remained alert, waiting, for you to slip off of that room.

Then he saw it—you sneaking away, disappearing down one of the many corridors of the Keep. Alone.

His heart pounded. He followed you, carefully and quiet, just to be sure that you weren’t having an affair.

The gardens were quiet, hidden away from the prying eyes of court, and you and Alaric know that, as Jacaerys. Its just can’t possibly be what he is thinking, he has to be wrong, and when Jacaerys felt as if he had walked into lie, a scene he was never meant to witness and that was just his brain playing tricks on him.

There you were, standing close to Alaric, too close. His fingers brushed against yours, his voice low, intimate. Jacaerys’ nails dug into his palms as he watched Alaric lean in, whispering something that made your breath hitch and then laugh. And when things couldn’t get worse, when he couldn’t get even anger, then—

The bastard kissed your hand.

Jacaerys saw red.

It was too much. Too much to bear. He turned on his heel before he did something reckless, his blood boiling with every step he took away from that cursed sight. He needed to release this anger, to lash out, to make someone else feel the torment clawing at his chest.

And who better than Aemond to be honest?

Aemond stood in the training yard, sharpening the blade of his longsword, when Jacaerys approached. He did not acknowledge him at first, but Jacaerys had no intention of being ignored.

“You seem awfully calm, Aemond,” Jacaerys remarked, his tone laced with something cruel, something mocking.

Aemond’s eye flickered to him, unimpressed. “And?”

Jacaerys feigned a thoughtful hum, pacing idly. “I suppose I simply admire how unbothered you are. If I had a sister as precious as yours, I’d keep a closer watch on her.”

Aemond stilled.

Jacaerys smirked, reveling in the tension that thickened between them. “After all, she’s quite… sought after, isn’t she? And if you let me say, that knight is really devoted to her.”

The sharpening of Aemond’s sword ceased, the blade gleaming under the afternoon sun. Slowly, he rose to his feet, his expression unreadable, yet the air around him felt charged, dangerous.

Jacaerys tilted his head, taunting. “Or perhaps you truly don’t mind sharing.”

Aemond’s jaw tightened.

Jacaerys only smiled wider, masking his own torment behind the satisfaction of striking a nerve. If he had to suffer, he would make sure Aemond suffered too. It didn’t make him feel less anger but, he knows that if he do something on the matter (your name) will hate him, and he will never had a chance with her.

“Gods, I wish I could see my mother angry with my father, complaining about what happened and what Daemond did,” (your name) was lying down on the tree, with Alarics head in her lap. “I mean it was horrible and then in front of everyone, but Veamod must have thought a little, what did he thought would happen, that he would get away with it because my mother supports her.”

“Maybe he wasn’t thinking with his head” Alaric responds, joking about the situation, making you laugh a little “The gods will punish us for laughing, stop” Alaric looks up at you“What? It’s the truth” at that you just sight.

“Maybe a should go, it’s already the after noon, I should be in the library instead of being in the gardens” you said

"All right, I wish I could stay with you a bit longer," Alaric says with a sigh as he rises from the ground.

"So do I, but if my mother finds out I’m here, she’ll kill me," you reply, standing up and heading towards the library.

Just as you're about to leave, Alaric stops you.

"Princess, do take care on your way," he says. And before you can respond, he kisses you—slow and romantic. You feel his hands find your waist, and just as you're about to pull him closer, he pulls away, lifting your hand gently to his lips.

"Until tomorrow, my lady," he whispers, placing a soft kiss on your hand before walking away.

The afternoon sun filtered softly through the trees, casting long shadows across the Red Keep’s gardens as you walked aimlessly, trying to shake the heavy thoughts that had been clouding your mind since the moment you’d left the garden. Alaric’s kiss on your hand still lingered in your memory, though you knew better than to entertain such feelings. Still, your heart beat with the echo of something you couldn’t quite place. Being with him had been lovely, sweet even—but part of you had quietly hoped for something more, something far less innocent. The tenderness was beginning to bore you, and a growing restlessness twisted inside your chest. You needed space—quiet, something to ground you again.

You turned towards the library, hoping the comforting stillness of the shelves would offer some respite. The vast, echoing silence of the room wrapped around you like a familiar embrace, and for a while, you let the hours slip away in the pages of dusty tomes, the world outside forgotten.

But the peace didn’t last long.

You felt his presence before you saw him. Jacaerys Velaryon. He stood in the doorway, watching you, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. There was a softness in his gaze, an intensity that seemed to draw you in, though you couldn’t quite understand why. The way he looked at you felt different—like you were something precious, something worth holding onto.

"Busy as always, I see," Jacaerys said, his voice warm, inviting. He took a few steps forward, his eyes flicking over the book in your hands. "Perhaps a break is in order?"

You glanced up at him, momentarily caught off guard by his approach. "A break?" you repeated, your tone guarded, though your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

He nodded, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made you feel both seen and exposed. "Sometimes," he said, "we forget to take a moment for ourselves. The world moves so fast around here." He paused, as though choosing his words carefully. "But you deserve more than that."

You furrowed your brow, not sure what he was getting at, but you couldn’t deny the quiet pull in your chest. "More than what?"

"More than this life," Jacaerys said, stepping closer, though he kept his distance just enough to avoid making you feel trapped. "I’ve been watching you for a long time. I see the way you carry yourself, the way you think. You don’t belong in the shadows, hiding away from everyone."

His words were almost too soft, too intimate, and it made your stomach flutter with something you couldn’t name. You tried to ignore it, to brush it off, but there was a quiet sincerity in his voice that made it hard to do so.

"I’m fine," you said quickly, hoping to deflect his attention. "I just... needed some time alone."

Jacaerys smiled gently, his eyes never leaving you. "We all need time alone. But sometimes, it’s good to share those moments with someone who understands."

You hesitated, his gaze so steady and knowing that you almost wanted to look away. "And what makes you think you understand me?" you asked, half teasing, half unsure.

"Because," he said, stepping closer yet again, his presence growing more tangible, "I see the way you hide your heart, how you protect it from the world. I know what it’s like to be under pressure, to constantly be living for others, especially when you’re not allowed to just... breathe. It’s a heavy thing to carry, and I can tell it weighs on you."

The words hit you like a blow to the chest. You felt your pulse quicken, your throat tightening, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. The way he saw through you, so effortlessly, filled you with an overwhelming mix of anger and something else—something softer that you couldn’t shake. You didn’t want to acknowledge the pressure your mother put on you, didn’t want to admit how suffocating it felt, and certainly didn’t want him to know.

"Stop," you snapped, your voice sharp, a defensive edge creeping in. "You don’t know anything about me."

Jacaerys held his hands up in mock surrender, but the look in his eyes didn’t change. "I only know what I see, (your name). You don’t have to hide it. You don’t have to keep pretending everything is fine when it’s not. I’m not here to judge you, I’m here because I want to be someone who understands."

Your heart beat in your ears, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "I don’t need you to understand," you said through gritted teeth, fighting the rising heat of emotion in your chest. "I don’t need anyone."

Jacaerys’ smile faltered, though he quickly recovered. "Perhaps you don’t need anyone. But you deserve someone who doesn’t try to change you, someone who can see you for who you really are, without the masks. Without the walls."

The raw honesty in his words stirred something deep within you. You felt your chest tighten with a mixture of anger, guilt, and confusion. The last thing you wanted was for him to see how much his words hurt. You hated how he was able to unravel you so easily, even when you tried to push him away.

"You don’t know what it’s like," you muttered, your voice softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping in.

Jacaerys took another step forward, his gaze never leaving you. "I think I might, more than you realize. And if you’ll let me, I’ll be here for you. Not to change anything, but just to listen. To be the one who doesn’t judge, and doesn’t expect anything but your truth."

The warmth of his words wrapped around you, and though every part of you screamed to push him away, another part—the part you didn’t want to acknowledge—longed for his closeness. You hated the way he made you feel, but at the same time, you couldn't ignore the pull, the strange mix of emotions that made your heart beat a little faster every time he spoke.

But you couldn't let it happen. Not like this.

"I don’t need you," you repeated, though you weren’t sure you believed it.

Jacaerys smiled, a soft, understanding expression that only made you feel more conflicted. "I know," he said, his voice gentle. "But I’ll still be here, whenever you need me."

And with that, he turned, leaving you standing alone in the library once more, your thoughts swirling, your heart a tangled mess of confusion, anger, and something far deeper than you were willing to admit.

The sky had begun its descent into twilight, the orange and violet hues bleeding into the horizon as Aemond stormed through the corridors of the Red Keep. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, his jaw clenched as his singular eye burned with unspoken rage. He had seen enough. The stolen glances, the briefest of touches, the way Alaric had dared to look at (your name) as if he had a right. As if he were anything more than a mere knight.

He found Alaric near the training yard, leaning idly against a stone pillar. The moment their gazes met, the air between them thickened, the tension almost suffocating. Alaric straightened, his expression unreadable, but Aemond did not give him the chance to speak.

“What is it that you think you are to her?” Aemond’s voice was low, almost deceptively calm, yet the fury within it was unmistakable.

Alaric’s brows furrowed slightly. “I don’t know what you mean, my prince.”

The lie barely left his lips before Aemond lunged. His hand shot forward, grabbing the knight by the collar and slamming him against the cold stone wall. The impact reverberated through the corridor, but Alaric did not cry out—he merely stared at Aemond, his jaw tightening as he struggled to remain composed.

“Do not play the fool with me,” Aemond hissed, his grip tightening as his eye burned into Alaric’s. “I have seen the way you look at her. The way you speak to her.”

Alaric met his glare head-on, his breathing controlled despite the pressure against his throat. “She is a princess,” he said evenly. “I afford her the same respect as any—”

Aemond cut him off by pressing him harder against the wall. “Do not insult my intelligence.” His voice dipped into something colder, more dangerous. “You are nothing. A mere knight, easily replaced. If I so wished, I could have you removed from the Keep by dawn, and no one would dare question it.”

Alaric remained silent, his expression unreadable, but Aemond could see the slight tension in his jaw, the faintest flicker of defiance in his eyes. It only served to fuel his fury.

“You will stay away from her,” Aemond continued, his tone a quiet promise of violence. “You have no right to speak to her, to look at her, to even think of her. She is my sister. Not yours. Not anyone’s.”

The words hung heavily between them before Aemond finally released his grip, stepping back with a sharp breath. Alaric did not move, did not speak. He merely watched as Aemond turned on his heel and strode away, his anger far from abated.

He needed more. He needed confirmation.

Without hesitation, he made his way to (your name)’s chambers.

The corridors were quieter now, the castle settling into the lull of the evening. When he reached her door, he did not hesitate to push it open. (Your name) was on her bed, seemingly lost in thought, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the fabric of her sleeve. At the intrusion, she looked up, her eyes widening slightly.

“Aemond?” she asked, shifting slightly, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows across her face.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with deliberate care. “Tell me,” he said, his voice softer than it had been with Alaric, yet laced with something unspoken. “Is there something I should know?”

(Your name) frowned slightly. “I don’t understand.”

Aemond moved toward her, his eye studying every flicker of her expression. He sat on the edge of her bed, the proximity intimate yet not overstepping. “You’ve been distant,” he murmured. “Sneaking away. Keeping secrets.”

“There are no secrets,” she said quickly, but Aemond caught the way her fingers twitched, the way her gaze shifted for just a fraction of a second before meeting his again. It was enough.

He exhaled sharply, though he kept his expression composed. “You should be careful,” he said, his voice lowering. “Of whom you trust.”

(Your name) hesitated. “I don’t—”

“You are a princess,” Aemond interrupted smoothly, his tone gentle but firm. “People will seek to take advantage of that. To get close to you for their own gain.”

Her lips parted slightly, but she found herself unable to form a response. There was something unsettling about the way he spoke, the way he looked at her—not with anger, not with direct accusation, but with an unwavering, possessive certainty. As if he already knew the answer to his unspoken question, yet was allowing her to pretend otherwise.

For now.

Aemond reached out, the movement slow, calculated. His fingers brushed against hers briefly before he stood, his presence lingering even as he turned toward the door.

“Sleep well, sister.” His voice was quiet, almost tender, but as he stepped out into the dimly lit hall, his expression darkened once more.

The suspicion had taken root, and you know that your brother was not one to ignore such things.

The library was quiet—almost sacred in its stillness—as you pushed open the heavy doors, your footsteps muffled against the stone floor. Alaric was already there when you arrived. He stood by the tall windows at the far end of the library, sunlight carving soft gold into his features. His arms were crossed, posture relaxed, but his eyes lit up the moment they found you—like they always did.

You paused for a breath, brushing invisible dust off your skirts before approaching. The air was thick with old parchment and the faint scent of leather bindings. You’d already eaten, sat through your morning lessons, and for once, had managed to slip away without your mother—or Aemond—shadowing your every step. This was your moment of freedom, your secret hour.

And it used to feel like a thrill.

Alaric turned toward you with that boyish, confident smile he wore so well. “There you are,” he murmured, crossing the room to meet you halfway. “I thought you’d changed your mind.”

“You know I wouldn’t,” you said, lips curving faintly.

He reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips with exaggerated reverence. “Forgive me. I forget how committed you are to our scandal.”

You laughed softly, and for a moment, it did feel nice. Familiar. Easy. He leaned in, still holding your hand, but you pulled it back gently and moved to sit at the reading table instead. He followed, lowering himself beside you, elbow resting on the wood, head tilted with quiet admiration.

“I was worried,” he said, voice lower now. “Thought Aemond might’ve chained you to your mother’s skirts.”

You gave a tired little sigh, closing the book you'd brought. “He’s been watching me. Closely. I think he suspects something.”

Alaric’s brow furrowed. “Let him. He may have an eye, but he doesn’t have you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Gods, you sound like a fool from a minstrel’s song.”

“Maybe I am,” he grinned. “But if the song is about you, then I’ll gladly play the part.”

You stared at him, unimpressed. His grin only widened, pleased with himself.

Then he leaned closer, the heat of his breath brushing your cheek. “You’re the only thing that makes this place bearable. Every time you walk into a room, I forget where I am. I—”

You didn’t want to hear the rest.

You leaned in abruptly, aiming to kiss him—to shut him up the way you always did when his words started to feel more like rehearsed lines than true feelings. But this time, before your lips could meet his, he stopped you.

His hand came up, gently pressing two fingers under your chin to keep your face just inches away.

“Wait,” he said softly, almost laughing. “I want to talk to you first.”

You blinked, a flicker of annoyance tightening in your chest. “Talk?” you echoed, your tone flat.

“Yes.” His expression shifted, lips twitching with nerves. “About us. About Aemond. About how we keep doing this and what it even means anymore.”

You looked at him, and something inside you stilled.

At first, being with him had made everything brighter. The secrecy, the danger, the stolen glances across the hall. He had felt like your escape from everything—your mother’s expectations, Aemond’s possessiveness, the suffocating castle walls.

But lately?

Lately, every whispered word sounded the same. Every touch, every smile, every poetic line… predictable. Routine.

You pulled back slowly, pretending to study the spines of the books behind him just to avoid his gaze. “No more talking,” you said, not unkindly—but not tender, either.

He frowned. “(Your name)…”

You didn’t want to explain. Maybe you didn’t even know how. The truth was, you were confused. At first, being with him had thrilled you, like fire licking under your skin. But now, the adrenaline had faded. The passion that once burned bright now felt like flickering embers.

And you didn’t understand why.

You’d never been in a real relationship before. Was this normal? Did all couples feel this shift from euphoria to silence?

Or was it just you?

Maybe you were broken. Or maybe you were just starting to realise something worse: You were getting bored of Alaric.

And that scared you.

Because if even this—this secret, forbidden romance—wasn’t enough to make you feel alive…

Alaric sat there for a moment, his gaze softening as he watched you carefully. He’d noticed, of course—how the spark in your eyes had dulled over the past few weeks, how the enthusiasm that once met his every touch seemed to fade like the twilight.

He couldn’t ignore it. Not anymore.

But, as always, he chose not to dwell on it. He’d always been good at pretending, at convincing himself that things were just a phase, something that would pass. Perhaps you were tired, or perhaps it was the tension with your family that was wearing you thin. He would give you time, like he always did.

"You're quiet today," he remarked, trying to sound casual, though the undercurrent of concern was evident. He tilted his head slightly, a gentle smile curving his lips as he reached for your hand again, hoping to catch your attention, hoping to draw you back into the game.

But you didn’t meet him halfway this time. Instead, you stared ahead, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the table. It was as though you were a million miles away, and Alaric’s smile faltered ever so slightly.

He took a breath, suppressing the gnawing feeling in his chest. He wouldn’t ask you about it—he wouldn’t push. Not yet.

The silence stretched between you, thick and almost suffocating, before he leaned in again, close enough that his breath stirred your hair. "You know," he began softly, his voice low and intimate, "we could leave all this behind. Just you and me, no one else. No games, no spying, just... us."

You turned your head slowly to meet his gaze. There was something in his eyes—something earnest, but it didn’t stir the same fluttering excitement it once had. His words, once so sweet and thrilling, now felt like a dull echo.

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “And where would we go?” you asked, your voice quiet.

"Anywhere," he said without hesitation. "Anywhere you want. We could disappear, (your name). Just leave all this behind and start anew."

You stared at him, unsure of how to answer. The idea of running away, of leaving everything behind, used to fill you with a thrilling sense of possibility. But now?

Now, it felt like a fantasy. A dream that had lost its lustre.

Alaric's smile remained, though there was a hint of worry in his eyes. “What do you say?”

You wanted to give him an answer. You wanted to feel that rush again—the one that had once made your heart race when you were with him. But you were tired of pretending, tired of this game.

Instead, you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms across your chest as you glanced away. “I don’t know, Alaric. I really don’t.”

He didn’t push. He didn’t ask for more. He simply nodded, though his eyes remained on you a little longer than usual, as though searching for something—something he was afraid he might not find.

The moment lingered. You were both trapped in it, suspended between the past and whatever this was now. Neither of you spoke for a while, and in the heavy silence, it felt like everything was shifting, but neither of you was sure how to move with it.

Alaric paused, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he noticed the distant look in your eyes. “I’ll wait for you, (your name). As long as it takes. You’ll come around. I know you will.”

For a moment, you almost wanted to believe him. You almost wanted to let yourself be swept away by the conviction in his voice, the promise of escape. But you couldn’t. Not now. Not when everything had started to feel so... shallow.

You looked at him, not meeting his gaze, and in a flat tone, you asked, “And how exactly are we supposed to leave? With what money, Alaric?”

His smile remained, though the glint in his eyes shifted, as if he’d been waiting for this question. “We’ll take whatever we need. A few jewels here and there. Your family has more than enough.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of your jewels—the ones that had always held such significance. You knew exactly what he meant. He wasn’t just talking about Targaryen treasures, but the jewels of House Hightower too. The gems that were as much a part of your family's influence as your own.

“No,” you snapped before you could stop yourself. “Not the jewels. You can’t seriously expect me to steal from my own family. They’re worth more than you realise.”

Alaric’s expression shifted just slightly, a small frown pulling at his lips. “It’s not stealing,” he said softly, almost too calmly. “It’s survival. We’d be taking what’s ours to begin with.”

You stared at him, your chest tight. “It’s not ours,” you bit out, the words sharp and cold. “Those jewels belong to my family, to House Targaryen and Hightower... You can’t just—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head, frustration building inside you.

His voice was soft but persistent. “You know we could use them. They’ve been in your family for years, passed down through generations. The Hightowers would never miss a few, and your family… well, it’s time for you to make your own choices, (your name).”

You shook your head, backing away from him. “No. This is wrong.”

Alaric reached for your hand again, but you pulled it away, standing up abruptly. “You’ve crossed a line, Alaric,” you said, your voice colder than you intended. “You can’t ask me to do this. Not for your... fantasies.”

He stood as well, taking a step toward you, his eyes filled with that unrelenting determination. “It’s not a fantasy, (your name). It’s real. This could be our future, but only if you stop holding on to the past.”

You stared at him, emotions swirling inside you, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “I don’t care about the future,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not when it means giving up everything I’ve known.”

There was a long pause, and Alaric’s eyes flickered with something close to regret, but he didn’t say anything. You could see the conflict in his expression—like he wanted to reach out, to explain, to make you understand. But you were already too far gone.

Finally, after a long silence, he spoke again. “I’ll wait for you, (your name). I’ll wait as long as it takes. But don’t shut me out.”

You turned, ready to leave, when the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor. The door to the library creaked open, and there, standing in the doorway, was Aemond.

He froze the moment he saw you, his sharp gaze flicking between you and Alaric. His lips pressed into a thin line, and the room fell into a tense silence.

Alaric didn’t move, but his posture subtly shifted, a quiet awareness settling between the three of you.

Aemond’s voice was low, but there was no mistaking the authority in it. “What’s going on here?”

You felt your heart race, and for a brief moment, you considered telling him the truth, but you knew it wouldn’t end well. You didn’t want Aemond to know. Not yet. Not when things were still fragile and confused.

Before you could answer, Aemond’s eyes turned icy. He didn’t wait for a response. In a flash, he crossed the room, his hand seizing your arm with a firm, possessive grip. His fingers dug into your skin, and you winced, surprised by the force, but his anger was unmistakable.

Without a word, Aemond began to drag you towards the door, his steps hard and fast, making it clear that he was beyond furious. You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. There was no escape now.

"Let go of me!" you hissed, but his face remained unreadable, his expression cold and calculating.

He didn’t respond, only pulled you out of the library and down the corridor, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the tense silence. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his body taut with frustration.

"Tell me," Aemond’s voice was harsh, demanding, and he gave you another sharp tug, forcing you to walk faster. "What the hell is going on between you and him?"

You felt your stomach tighten. You didn’t want to lie, but you couldn’t tell him the truth—not when everything was so messy.

"I told you, it’s nothing," you said quickly, avoiding his eyes as you struggled against his hold. "There’s nothing going on, Aemond. You’re overreacting."

Aemond stopped abruptly, his grip tightening around your arm until you were forced to face him. His eyes were sharp, like a predator closing in on its prey. "Don’t lie to me," he snapped, his voice low and dangerous. "I can see it in your eyes. What’s really going on between you two?"

You could feel the pressure building inside you, the lie ready to slip from your lips, but Aemond wasn’t letting you off so easily. He stepped closer, his voice barely a whisper. "Tell me the truth."

You swallowed hard, your mind racing for a way to escape the conversation, but there was no way out. The lie bubbled to the surface, almost involuntarily.

"He’s just a friend," you said quickly, your tone far firmer than you felt. "Only a friend, Aemond."

Aemond’s eyes narrowed even further, still not satisfied with your response. He stepped closer again, his grip now possessive, not just angry. "You expect me to believe that?"

You hesitated, biting your lip, the words feeling heavy in your throat. "Yes. He’s my friend," you repeated, this time with a little more certainty, though the knot in your stomach was growing tighter.

Aemond shook his head, but the suspicion in his eyes didn’t fade. "A friend?" He sneered. "I’ve watched you two, (your name). There’s something more between you. I know it."

You felt your chest tighten, the weight of the conversation bearing down on you. Aemond’s grip remained tight on your arm, pulling you closer to him. "Why can’t you just tell me the truth?"

For a moment, you met his gaze, the truth threatening to spill out, but then you remembered everything you’d been hiding.

You couldn’t give in to him.

"I can’t talk to you the way I talk to Alaric," you said, your voice quieter but firm. "He’s my friend. The only one who’s ever been there for me. The only one who truly listens. I can’t talk to you like that."

Aemond’s jaw clenched at your words. "So, that’s it then? He’s your only true friend?" His voice was dangerously calm, but you could feel the storm brewing beneath the surface.

You nodded, your chest tight with a mix of emotions. "Yes. He’s my friend, Aemond. And that’s all."

Aemond stood there for a moment, his gaze boring into yours. His grip softened for a second, but you could feel his anger rising again, his suspicions not at all quelled.

He stepped back with a sigh, his expression unreadable for a moment. "I don’t like this, (your name). I can see the truth beneath your words, even if you won’t say it."

You felt a flicker of guilt, but you refused to let it show. You couldn’t afford to show weakness—not now, not in front of him.

Aemond didn’t speak for a moment, his eyes lingering on you. Then, with a sharp motion, he pulled you along again, his grip still firm but colder now. "We’re leaving."

You didn’t argue. You couldn’t. Aemond didn’t wait for any more words. He dragged you down the hall, the weight of his presence suffocating, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

Aemond didn’t stop as he marched down the hall, his grip on your arm firm and unyielding, dragging you behind him with a force that was unmistakably possessive. Every step he took made it clear he didn’t care for how you felt about it. He wasn’t being gentle, wasn’t even looking at you—just dragging you as if you were an object he could claim, like a sister. He had made his intentions clear before. You didn’t belong to anyone.

You tried to pull your arm from his grip again, but he only tightened it further, his face set in a cold, unrelenting expression. "Stop resisting," Aemond muttered, his voice ice-cold, the bitterness dripping from every word.

The moment you reached the intersection of the corridor, a voice broke through the silence. It was Daemond’s, sharp and full of reproach.

“Aemond!” Daemond called out, his tone heavy with disapproval. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Rhaenyra appeared beside him, her gaze already flicking between you and Aemond, her brows furrowing at the sight of her brother dragging you down the hall like this. She didn’t speak immediately, but her stance was protective, and her eyes weren’t kind.

Aemond didn’t even glance at them as he continued walking, his grip still unyielding. “I’m taking her where she belongs,” he muttered dismissively, not bothering to hide his irritation. “She’s my sister. You don’t need to involve yourselves.”

Daemond stepped forward, his eyes narrowing in anger. “Your sister?” he repeated with a snarl. “You’re treating her like some prize, Aemond. Let her go.”

You flinched slightly at the words, but still, you stayed silent. You wanted to say something, anything, but the tension in the air made it impossible to know what. It was like everything had shifted in the last few moments. Aemond’s hold felt suffocating.

Rhaenyra, usually so composed, stepped closer as well, her expression tense. “Aemond, this isn’t right. Let her go.”

Aemond stopped in his tracks then, his eyes flashing with irritation. He turned, narrowing his gaze at Daemond and Rhaenyra. “I’m not letting her go, Rhaenyra,” he snapped, the venom in his tone unmistakable. “She’s my sister, and I’ll make sure she knows her place.”

Daemond didn’t back down. “Not like this. You can’t force her to do what you want.”

Rhaenyra, who had been silent until now, spoke up with a note of concern, but still with that same underlying firmness. “Aemond, let her go. You can’t just drag her around like this.”

For a brief moment, Aemond hesitated. His gaze flickered, and for the first time, there was a hint of something close to doubt in his eyes. But just as quickly, he shook it off and released his grip on your arm with a growl of frustration. He turned sharply, not meeting anyone’s gaze, his back stiff and tense.

As Aemond walked away, Daemond moved in closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright?”

You nodded stiffly, the feeling of his touch somewhat comforting, though the lingering tension in your chest didn’t ease. “I’m fine.”

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her expression softening as she looked at you. “(Your name), we need to talk. Aemond—”

You cut her off before she could finish. “No. Leave me alone,” you said firmly, not bothering to hide the irritation in your voice. You needed space. You needed silence. You didn’t want to talk to any of them.

But Rhaenyra didn’t take the hint. She stepped even closer, her gaze intense, trying to read your expression. “We can’t just ignore what’s happening between you and Aemond. I’m worried about you.”

You clenched your fists, feeling the anger rise within you. “I don’t need you to worry about me,” you snapped, your voice sharp.

Rhaenyra’s eyes softened, but she pressed on, her voice more insistent now. “I know you’re upset, but this… what’s going on with Alaric—”

At the mention of his name, something inside you snapped. You turned to face her fully, your eyes narrowing with a flash of anger. “Don’t mention him!” you shouted, your voice louder than intended. The sudden outburst made Rhaenyra step back in surprise, but you didn’t care. You were done with pretending you were okay.

Rhaenyra blinked, taken aback by your reaction, but she pressed on. “(Your name), I just want to understand—”

“I said leave me alone!” you snapped again, cutting her off completely. “I don’t owe you any explanations. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about him or any of you.”

For a moment, the hallway was dead silent, save for the sound of your heavy breathing. Daemond and Rhaenyra exchanged a look, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst, but neither of them pushed you further.

Daemond's expression softened, her voice much quieter this time. “We just want to help, (your name),” he said, his tone almost pleading.

But you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t pretend that you were part of their world, couldn’t pretend that everything was fine.

“I don’t need help,” you muttered under your breath, turning away from them, your heart pounding in your chest. "Just leave me alone."

As Rhaenyra and Daemond called after you, their voices full of concern and reproach, you didn’t stop. You didn’t even turn your head. Every word they spoke fell on deaf ears as you walked faster, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the hall. The anger that burned in you was too much to ignore. You needed to get away from them, away from everything.

Rhaenyra’s voice called out one last time, but you didn’t react. You couldn’t. The thought of speaking to her, of explaining anything to her, was unbearable.

“(Your name), please,” Rhaenyra’s voice softened as she reached out, but you were already too far down the corridor.

Ignoring her, you quickened your pace, the sharp click of your shoes against the stone floor the only sound you could focus on. Your chest was tight, a storm of emotions swirling inside you. You didn’t want their pity. You didn’t need their concern.

Finally, you reached the main door and pushed it open, slipping out into the cool night air. You didn’t look back, and you didn’t care if they followed. You were done with their questions.

Later in the night, you stood in the shadowed courtyard where you and Alaric often met, your heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and frustration. It had been a while since you’d seen him, and the thought of speaking to him, of finding some semblance of normalcy in the chaos of the day, was a relief.

You waited, pacing slightly, glancing at the empty spaces around you. The moonlight cast a pale glow over the stone, and everything felt still, quiet.

Minutes passed.

You checked the time, then looked up at the sky. Where was he? Had something happened? The weight of disappointment pressed down on your chest, but you pushed it aside. He would come. He had to.

Just as you were about to turn and leave, you heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. You quickly turned, hopeful, but instead of Alaric, it was Jacaerys who emerged from the shadows.

He paused when he saw you, his expression unreadable. “(Your name),” he said softly, but his tone held a certain caution.

Your stomach dropped. “What are you doing here, Jacaerys?”

He took a step forward, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress. “I was looking for you,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of concern. “Aemond told me you were out here alone. Are you all right?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, though the frustration was clear in your voice. “You expect me to believe that?”

He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “No,” he said quietly, his gaze narrowing. “But it’s worth a try, isn't it?”

You didn’t want to explain, not now, not to him. But before you could speak, he took another step toward you. “Why didn’t you meet with Alaric?” he asked, his voice softer now, but the suspicion was still there.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. “Alaric? What-- Who are you talking about?”

“You know who,” Jacaerys replied quickly, his voice holding a hint of frustration. “I just... want to know why. Why didn’t you meet him?”

You glared at him, wanting to brush past the question, wanting to get away, but you knew you couldn’t avoid him now. Not when he was standing there, blocking the way.

“I don’t owe you any explanations, Jacaerys,” you said, your voice more forceful than intended. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

But before you could move, Jacaerys stepped forward, catching you by the waist. His grip was firm, pulling you back when you tried to move away. You looked up at him, irritated. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Talking to you,” he replied, his voice quieter now, but still determined. “Why aren’t you with Alaric? Why the sudden distance?”

Your heart hammered in your chest. “He didn’t come,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper, the weight of your words making everything feel heavier. “He didn’t show up. I don’t know why.”

Jacaerys’ expression shifted, his jaw tightening. “You think he really cares for you?” he asked, a note of bitterness in his voice. “You’re just a distraction to him, (your name). That’s all you’ll ever be. He’ll leave you once he gets what he wants, and then you’ll be alone again. Is that what you want?”

You recoiled slightly, the sting of his words hitting harder than you expected. “You don’t know anything about him,” you snapped back, trying to pull away from him again. “You have no idea what’s going on.”

He tightened his hold on you, his voice lower now, sharper. “You’re fooling yourself if you think Alaric’s any different from the rest of them. You’re just another game to him. And once it’s over, he’ll drop you.”

“That’s not true,” you argued, the anger rising in your chest. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

Jacaerys’ eyes flared with frustration. “I’m just trying to protect you, (your name),” he said, his tone almost desperate. “Can’t you see that? You deserve better than him, and I don’t want to watch you fall for someone who’s only going to hurt you.”

The words rang in your ears, but you pushed them away. “I don’t need you to protect me, Jacaerys,” you shot back, finally managing to break free from his grip. “And I don’t need your opinions on my life.”

The silence that followed was thick, both of you standing there, breathing heavily. Then, without warning, Jacaerys closed the space between you again, his hands firm in your waist. This kiss was different—heated, almost angry, as if he was trying to prove something. You didn’t pull away this time; instead, you kissed him back, your hands going against his cheeks.

His hands were firm on your waist, pulling you closer, while your hands instinctively cupped his cheeks, the intensity of the kiss building between you. It was full of frustration, desperation, and a mix of emotions neither of you could control. And then both opposing hands going to places where they shouldn't go, forbidden places that you wouldn't even be allowed to go. But just as quickly as it started, it was broken—by the sound of footsteps behind you.

You turned, your heart sinking when you saw Aegon standing there, his expression a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

Aegon’s lips curled into a smirk as he crossed his arms. “Well, well, looks like someone’s found a new hobby,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re in trouble, (your name). Big trouble.”

You froze, the weight of his words hitting you like a punch to the stomach. Before you could react, Aegon chuckled to himself and turned away, walking off without a second glance.

You rushed after him, desperation in your voice. “Aegon, please—don’t say anything. Please.”

Jacaerys stepped forward, attempting to stop you, but you pushed past him, heading straight for Aegon. You couldn’t let him get away. You needed him to stay quiet.

You rushed after him, desperation in your voice. “Aegon, please—don’t say anything. Please.”

Aegon just threw a glance over his shoulder, his smirk widening. “You’re already in enough trouble, (your name). And you know it.”

You stood there, stunned, watching him disappear into the shadows, your mind racing. Shit, now you are completely fucked.

Pt. 5 >> (Coming Soon)

Author’s note: Hello, how are you all doing first of all? Now, I’m here with a long chapter, to be honest. I hope you liked it, and please let me know how you feel about everything, whether you like it or not, so I can know what you think about how things are going. Take care, bye!

Taglist: @ursinaw @dakota-rain666 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @pookiedragonfire @jjggdfvvy @maryldrsstuff @1soultaken @ceramic-raven @eissaaaa @moodyblueberrytree @xadaboo @labryel @zoeyburton @hopingtoclearmedschool

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yandereunsolved · 8 months ago

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Parental figure reader accidentally collecting all of the pathetic meow meow yandere nobles—

Yandere Aemond: "It is good to speak with you again. I-I... uhm... would you like to brush and braid my hair again? I-I only ask because you were so fond of doing it the first time." awkwardly holding a brush in his hand and looking at you like a child eagerly waiting for the approval of their guardian.

Yandere Aegon: "Apologies, brother. As the king, I request that they join me in the garden so that we may go over... plans." Just wants to cuddle them and needs a coverup.

Yandere Lucerys: "They promised to teach me how to tie different sailor knots! You even said that we could go explore the harbor, some beaches, and other stuff!"

Yandere Helaena: "Our bugs? You said you would help me catalog all of my new bugs in our special notebook. There is no possible way for the ink to meet the page and create words otherwise. You are the keeper of the parchment. The one who can hold a quill with far more skill than I."

Yandere Jacaerys sitting in the chair next to reader having been possessively by their side the entire day. "If it so pleases them, they should stay here with me. They have had such an exhausting week, and the morrow will be even busier for them."

Yandere Baela and Rhaena are allowed to cling onto reader because Jacaerys doesn't want to seem jealous of them in front of you.

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luv-lock · 5 months ago

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⸻ ʟ ᴏ ᴠ ᴇ ᴍ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: Dark Aegon I Targaryen x Fem Reader

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

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

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

She was always there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She never did.

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

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

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

But then he saw it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was worse now. So much worse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She never answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The silence is unbearable. It breaks him.

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

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

But it didn’t matter.

She will love me. She will.

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

But she doesn’t change. She never changes.

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

Her eyes stayed cold.

Her eyes stayed empty.

And still, he kept going.

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gulnarsultan · 3 months ago

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Yandere mother-in-law Alysanne Targaryen and yandere husband Baelon I Targaryen.

~ There are several scenarios for you to meet the Targaryen family. However, your social status and financial situation do not matter to them. Maybe you were sent to be the lady-in-waiting of the Queen or the Princesses. You came for a tournament, ceremony, travel, business or duty. Queen Alysanne or Prince Baelon is the first person to see and meet you.

~ They will convince your family to bring you to the Palace. Most likely, the Queen will allow you to be her lady-in-waiting. Mother and son are a team in terms of their tendencies. The Queen ensures that you do not leave the Palace. Prince Baelon keeps all men away from you and scares your suitors. Neither of them hesitates to get their hands dirty to get rid of rivals.

~ They do not like it when you go to visit your family. When your family visits, your addressing your mother makes your Queen jealous. Sometimes they make sure that the letters your family sends and the letters you send to them do not arrive. This makes you feel like your family does not care about you.

~ They both spoil you a lot. They give you very expensive gifts on your birthday and holidays. They do not stop giving gifts on other normal days. There will be more gifts, especially in the colors that symbolize the Targaryen house.

~ The Queen loves spending mother-daughter time with you. She has made it a rule to comb and braid your hair. She never stops sewing clothes and ordering jewelry for you.

~ Prince Baelon will want to train with you if possible. Even though the Queen does not want it, Prince Baelon will try to take you on dragon tours. Prince Baelon loves to watch and cheer him on while he trains. The idea of another man approaching you makes Prince Baelon's blood boil. When it comes to you, only his older brother Prince Aemon is his trust.

~ Prince Baelon wants to marry you without wasting any time. However, this does not mean that he will not court you properly. He will do his best to win your heart during the courtship process.

~ Your wedding with the Prince will be very lavish. They spare no expense. It will be the most important day and the most unforgettable wedding in history. You are the bride with the most beautiful wedding dress and the most expensive jewelry in Westeros. There will be no bed ceremony. Perhaps only the Queen will witness your bed ceremony.

~ They will ask you to get pregnant soon after you get married. The Queen does not want you and her son's mixed babies running around. Baelon wants to have children as proof of your love. Moreover, they believe that children will be great reasons for you to stay.

~ They are both overprotective of you and the baby when you are pregnant. They make sure that the best maesters take care of you. During pregnancy, they both love to feel the baby's movement by placing their hands on your belly. The Queen will be by your side when you give birth. She will hold your hand and caress your hair until the birth is over.

~ Every child you give birth will be loved by them very much. The gender of the baby you give birth does not matter to them at all. The only thing that matters to them is that you and the baby are healthy. The dragon egg for each child is carefully selected by the Queen or Prince.

~ Even after you become the Prince's wife, they will not stop showering you with gifts. This behavior is also common to the Queen. They love to see you adorned in the colors of the Targaryen house and in jewelry. You can only go out of the palace with your husband or a large number of guards. They will never punish you physically or verbally. The punishments are isolation and guilt.

#yandere game of thrones #yandere got #yandere asoiaf #yandere house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon x reader #yandere hotd #yandere baelon targaryen #yandere baelon targaryen x reader #baelon the brave #baelon targaryen #baelon targaryen x reader #yandere alysanne targaryen #yandere alysanne targaryen x reader

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yandere-romanticaa · 7 months ago

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𝐚𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬!🍰

Just a little collection of ideas that I decided to write down as I sit alone in a cafe, enjoying a slice of delicious cheesecake. These probably won't go anywhere but I still had the desire to share them.

various! yandere x gn! reader.

YANDERE KINICH ! - Genshin Impact.

You've been in a relationship with Kinich for a few months now. By all accounts, he is the sweetest boyfriend - kind, caring, attentive and not to mention sweet.

It doesn't matter that his grip is a little bit too tight when he hugs you, it doesn't matter that you hardly talk to anyone other than him anymore... Kinich can take care of you just fine.

He can prove it.

MORE YANDERE KINICH ! - nsfw ~

After months and months of being struck by Cupid's arrow, Kinich finally decides to make a move and claim you as his own in more ways than one.

Taking a walk with him alone on a moonless night should have been relaxing but never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined that Kinich would pin you to the ground, his chest heaving with anxiety and want as he swallows your wailing and crying with a barrage of kisses.

To be frank, he has no idea what he is doing. But he decides to be selfish and listen to his more carnal instincts for once. Besides, how can he stop now right where he has you? All cute and helpless beneath him, begging him for mercy...

AEMOND TARGARYEN ! - House of the Dragon.

Your father is a merchant who recently struck gold and has become one of the most respected men in the capital. The royal family is having a gathering in the Red Keep and your family received an invitation.

When the moon is high, the candles shine bright and the music reaches a crescendo, will you take Prince Aemond's hand to dance?

Stepping right into the jaw of a man eating dragon was never a part of your plan but Aemond doesn't mind.

He was always fond of a little hunt.

GENERAL FEIXIAO ! - Honkai Star Rail.

Being part Borisin, Feixiao has a hard time controlling her urges when it comes to a lot of things. But whenever she catches a glimpse of you, she comes running faster than the wind. She's such a powerful and imposing woman, however could you turn her company away...?

Entertaining as she may be, the dangerous red glimmer in her eye sends a shiver down your spine. Whenever you seem to step out of line, General Feixiao is swift with dealing with anything that troubles her.

Oh the horror when she snaps one evening... She holds you tight in her arms, sharp fangs sinking deeper and deeper into your neck as she swears to keep you by her side forever...

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year ago

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Yan!Parents Daemon/Rhaenyra Targaryen Headcanons (Platonic)

❝ 🐉 — lady l: Are these headcanons good? I don't know, but I hope you like it!! Forgive me for any mistakes ;) 🩵🤍

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, overprotection, mention of death and murder, unhealthy platonic relationships and messy writing.

❝🐉pairing: platonic yandere!daemyra x gender neutral!reader.

Rhaenyra and Daemon were looking forward to the arrival of their first child. Daemon already had two daughters and Rhaenyra her three precious boys, but they were very eager for the first fruit of their marriage to be born.

The day Rhaenyra gave birth to you was one of the happiest memories of her life. The pain of childbirth was excruciating, but when she could hold you in her arms, it was all worth it.

Daemon actually sobbed when he held you for the first time. You were so small, so innocent and so perfect. He swore to himself that he would do anything to be good to you. You would be loved and adored forever.

They are both extremely overprotective and possessive over you. You are their child, you belong to them, so you should not associate with anyone they do not approve of.

Any friends you may have will be investigated by Daemon and if he finds anything that displeases him, that friend will disappear from your life. He is not objective, if that person's great-grandfather was an bastard, for example, that means they will never be good to you. And you deserve only the best.

Rhaenyra not only agrees with this, but encourages her uncle-husband's actions. You are her baby, the most precious person in her life and she only wants the best for you. She will give you the best, she knows what is good for you. After all, mom always knows best, right?

Your older siblings would also have developed their own obsession with you, encouraged by their parents. It didn't take long for the Velaryon brothers and Daemon's daughters to become completely attached to you.

You were not only your parents' obsession, but also your siblings, meaning you can bet no harm would be done to you. You were spoiled and protected, the apple of everyone's eye in Dragonstone.

Whatever you want, you will have. Rhaenyra and Daemon are completely soft when it comes to disciplining you, just one puppy look and they will forget everything. You are their child, you could do no wrong in their eyes.

Everyone is instructed to spoil and protect you, the servants, the guards and your brothers will do so willingly too.

Daemon is very possessive, he feels entitled to you because you are his child. He will kill anyone who looks, says, or even breathes wrong at you. There's no way he's going to let anything happen to you.

Rhaenyra is more controlled, but she is still a dragon and you should never mess with a dragon's offspring. She loses all her senses, her reason when something happens to you. Even if it's a paper cut, she will go into a frenzy of rage.

Any love interests or suitors will also be dealt with quickly. They won't allow you to get married, no one will ever be good enough for you.

If something were to happen to you, gods be good, for the true fury of the Targaryens would be revealed. They will burn, kill and destroy everything in their path for you. All that matters is you, the war will be forgotten by you.

And when it was just ashes and the smell of blood and death was in the air, they would be satisfied. Daemon and Rhaenyra will go to extremes for you. You are their baby and no one, absolutely no one, can change that.

Daemon and Rhaenyra will not lose anyone else, not their child. And when the war for the Iron Throne begins, you would be locked in and protected the entire time. Your parents love you and would do anything, but they don't know boundaries or privacy. It doesn't matter, after all, they are your parents.

#hotd #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #asoiaf #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #yandere asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yan!mom Rhaenyra targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen #yan!dad daemon targaryen #headcanons #yandere headcanons #x reader #yandere platonic #platonic yandere #yandere daemyra #yan!parents daemyra

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missglaskin · 1 year ago

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Yandere Aegon's Conquest (platonic) headcanons

AKA Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys as your yan!parents + Aenys and Maegor as your yan!Brothers

Characters: Aegon the conqueror, Visenya Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen, Maegor & Aenys Targaryen, Orys Baratheon

Note: Adopted and female!reader, toxic relationships, some interpreted romance/incest, Fire and Blood spoilers

You may have joined the Targaryen family through any of them. Brought to King's Landing as an offer, a hostage from Dorne. Whatever the reason was, you have now become the obsession of three dragon riders.

Naturally, there was some opposition at first. It's enough to keep a whole kingdom together; with lords either bending the knee willingly or by force, having the faith tolerate their marriages, and now they bring a child into the fold who didn't seem to bear much resemblance.

Yet despite widespread opposition, there was utter silence when it became evident what would happen if someone were to comment on your legitimacy. It's frightening to face Aegon's wrath, but he and his sisters combined; downright terrifying.

They tended to differentiate when it came to ways of parenting. You would have likely been overindulged if it weren't for Visenya, who adopted a stricter role in place of Rhaenys and Aegon. On the other hand, it's Aegon who adopts the role of the meditator, keeping the peace whenever his wives come to disputes.

Orys is the only one Aegon truly trusts along with his sisters and despite Rhaenys and Visenya sharing Aegon's trust, they're not exactly thrilled about sharing you with anyone else. It’s noticed how quickly Orys steps into the role of an uncle, adding more fuel to the gossip (being Aegon’s brother). Like everyone else, he's just as protective and is more than willing to personally handle anyone who dares to cross you. But also similar to Aegon, beyond being protective, he's pretty laid-back. During your younger years, he'd times have you seated on his lap or playfully throw you up in the air.

As mentioned, Visenya is fiercely protective and sometimes may come off as a bit harsh, but her intentions are solely for your well-being. Her kingsguards are not only ordered to protect the king but are specifically trained to protect their little princess. She’s involved in your education, ensuring that you embrace your ‘Valyrian’ heritage.

Each day she’ll have you rehearse your words, recount the history of your family house, and fulfill all your supposed duties. It’s Aegon and Rhaenys who urge Visenya to give you a break from time to time (not just because they want to spend time with you). Visenya also insists on training you despite her brother and sister’s wishes. Rhaenys thinks your gentle hands shouldn’t touch a blade with Aegon claiming you’re protected enough.

While they might disagree on many things, both Aegon and Rhaenys agree with Visenya's idea of giving you your own dragon egg. Given as a gift on your nameday. And even if the dragon hatches and you may never ride it, they are sure to let it recognize you as their owner; to let it be yours and yours only. Besides it’s further proof to the rest of the kingdom that you’re indeed one of them.

Like Visenya, Rhaenys is very much involved in your life and rarely lets you out of her sighs. She’s much smothering and the most affectionate out of her siblings, known to watch you with great fondness and expect to be praised for even the smallest accomplishments.

Rhaenys takes charge of your wardrobe, dressing you in the colors of House Targaryen and embellishing you with all sorts of jewelry. The many songs she has ensured to be dedicated, praising your elegance and beauty that they are believed to have passed down generations.

That’s not to say Aegon isn’t involved, he is but tends to be overshadowed by his sisters; finding himself stuck in the middle of their disagreements. Despite this, he makes his stance known and will use all types of excuses to steal you away. Aegon goes as far as making you his cupbearer, though while the council members are hesitant to take you away from the king's side. Only Orys dares to have you come and fill his cup.

They often find themselves in childish arguments on who you should ride with. Aegon occasionally claims victory, it helps Baelrion is the largest. In fact, whenever any of the siblings go for a flight, they are likely to bring you along. During their shared flights, they would showcase all sorts of tricks like getting close to the water or letting their dragons spit fire in the open air just to witness the excited look on your face.

Aegon spoils you (rotten) and is ready to fulfill almost all your whims and desires. While he’ll gladly gift you with jewelry and gowns like Rhaenys, Aegon is more inclined to make grand gestures like contracting statues and naming things in your honor. If you were to ask, he'd happily construct a bathhouse, a vast garden, you just need to ask.

Aegon is surprisingly someone you find it easy to turn to whenever you get in trouble, along with Uncle Orys. He's perfectly fine with you doing your own thing, playing away while he watches from a distance.

Despite their occasional arguments, at the end of the day, they are united through their care for you. You mean everything to them, and though each may express it differently, they all just want to see you happy and safe.

Adding Maegor and Aenys into the mix just makes everything more chaotic. While it's not much of a hidden secret that Rhaenys and Visenya favor you, they attempt to keep it subtle. Aegon isn't very adept at hiding it, and there have been discussions where he expresses the desire for you to be his heir instead. However, by the Westerosi tradition, Aenys is the expected heir.

Aenys and Maegor are particularly attached to you, even when their parents clearly seem to favor you. Being a bit older than Aenys, Rhaenys actively encouraged the bond between you two. She always insisted your small self to hold him and it became well-known among the castle servants that baby Aenys would cry until you came at his side.

The death of Rhaenys threw everything into chaos. Visenya and Aegon, if possible, became even more protective, god forbid if Dorne were to make an attempt (or try to bring you back). You became the outlet for their grief, with Aegon demanding your presence more than ever. Aenys clung to you for comfort, a child who doesn’t seem to fully understand where his mother went.

A year or two passed before Maegor was born, and he was already different from the start. Aenys, always smaller than the other kids, remained easily carried by your child self even as he grew. You'd lift him up on your back as he squealed with delight, but Visenya would scold you; your back could get hurt and Aenys is heir, he must be expected to behave like one.

Maegor, on the other hand, was bigger than most kids, with round and full cheeks that you couldn't resist poking and pulling. Similar to Aenys, he constantly demanded your attention, but unlike Aenys who cried, Maegor caused tantrums, pushing other kids you interacted with and throwing things until he got the attention he sought.

A rivalry started between the brothers, and more often than not, you found yourself in the middle of it, but it was mostly one-sided with Maegor often starting the conflicts. Moreover, Aegon directed most of his attention toward Aenys with kingdom duties and all, leaving you mostly with Maegor and Visenya.

Unlike Rhaenys, who didn't have the time to mold her son, Visenya did. She made sure that her son knows that it’s his duty to protect and care for you, deeming Aenys as weak in her eyes. Maegor learned to value you above all else. Sparring was no longer necessary, as according to Maegor he’ll be the one to protect you from now. In one incident, Maegor attacked a noble boy who had jokingly insulted you. Aegon and Visenya never punished him, with the excuse that Aegon didn't want to cause a scene.

Aenys, much like his mother, is naturally affectionate. Openly embracing you in front of the entire court or hold your hand as you walk together. Such displays of affectionate were a never-ending lecture from Visenya and Aegon and all it did was fuel Maegor’s jealousy.

As all three of you came of age, there was a flood of suitors vying for your hand in marriage. Aegon would use any excuse to deter them, but deep down, he secretly wished to wed you to Aenys but he knows Visenya might insist on Maegor instead, further fueling the rivalry between the brothers. The reactions of your brothers toward your suitors only intensifies, with Maegor eagerly challenging anyone who seeks your hand and Aenys wearing a mask of happiness for you while secretly desiring to have you all to himself.

It becomes even messier if the brothers are wed to other women. Alyssa and Ceryse, in particular, feel the pressure to be on your good side, knowing that a gesture from you could sway their husbands in your favor. Despite being married to them, the wives can't shake the feeling of being the "other women". The awkwardness is heightened by Aenys, who insists on you being close to his children, going so far as to let you be one of the first to hold baby Rhaena.

The family was struck with a moment of grief upon Aegon's death, leaving Visenya as the sole parent. With Aegon, and even Orys, no longer present, Visenya had the freedom to enforce her regulations and expectations without interruption. Maegor, being a wild card, proved difficult to control. Despite Aenys' perceived weakness, he stepped into Aegon's place, not directly opposing Visenya and Maegor but making it clear that you were a line not to be crossed. Your place is to be with him and his family, by his side in council.

Aegon's death set off a chain reaction, fueling the underlying war within the family that had already been brewing.

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