aemondavenue

[aemondavenue]

AEMOND TARGARYEN in House of the Dragon 1.08: “The Lord of the Tides”

[aemondavenue]

Ewan Mitchell in Salad Days (2019) - Oliver Huntington

#the eye contact he's maintaining in the 3rd gif #gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

[aemondavenue]

Crumbs Asks:

How would each Team Green character react to being rear ended while driving?

Note: This was very fun! Thank you! @ewanmitchellcrumbs

Aegon: “Do you know who I am!?” type reaction. Already has dings on his car from reckless driving and proceeds to blame all of those on this one accident. Calls Alicent and she automatically assumes it’s his fault … it usually is.

Aemond: Scarily calm. Leverages connections and status to make the situation even more of a nightmare than it is. 

Alicent: Usual procedure except she is visibly more anxious and shaken. 

Criston: On a good day, usual procedure. On a bad day.. good luck.

Helaena: How do I say? Best possible person to rear end. Extremely patient. Seamless exchange of information and insurance. Depending on the severity, y’all would get lunch after.

Otto: Exchange of insurance and information. Would maybe even call the police if needed. The worst part is being scolded like a child.

TARGTOWERS CARS: Aegon -> Aemond -> Helaena

i dont know about cars but these all seem expensive and scary to hit

#ask games #crumbs asks #helaena targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #asks #headcanons #otto hightower #alicent hightower #criston cole #aemond targaryen

[aemondavenue]

Get attacked!! ✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈✨ 🫶🤍

This is v sweet 🥺 thank you 🫶

#anon

[aemondavenue]

🫡

Crumbs Asks

I get a lot of asks, but I sent a few around fandom myself yesterday and I really enjoyed seeing people’s answers.

So, I wanna play a game of sorts!

Like or reblog this post and I will send you a HotD or Ewanverse related ask - the only stipulation is that you are not allowed to pass, you have to answer!

Disclaimer: this is a side blog, so all asks will come from my main @bouncehousedemons

[aemondavenue]

recirculating ✨

desolate {aemond targaryen x reader}

word count: 1.3k

parts: one | two

warnings: 18+. mentions of dub-con sex. toxic/unhealthy dynamics. angst. proceed with caution.

note: all grammar mistakes are my own. this ended up going differently than planned because i didn't want it to feel rushed. + part 2 is up!!!

Once a week, Aemond would bed you.

Ever since your wedding, now only a couple months ago, Aemond would come to your chambers when the hour was late and take you on your bed. Only to leave once the deed was done.

His orgasm would overtake him as if he hadn’t been chasing it in the first place. He had sex with you- no. He would fuck. This was somehow separated from you. This was his duty. His burden as your husband to plant you with his heirs. Your place as his wife was to take it and you did. This must be the truth of most marriage alliances, you thought. This was not the story that lied between the pages of the books on your bookshelf. This was your life. This was the order of things.

You didn’t know if you felt disappointed, you didn’t know if you were allowed to. You had married into a house more noble than your own. Every other perk of being married to a prince had fallen in your lap. People tending to you. Intricately tailored dresses. Glorious feasts. You could not have it all. You felt it was out of your place to complain.

One night you were called into Aemond’s chambers for the first time ever. He had never asked you to be brought to him, he had only ever come to you. You were getting ready for bed. You were dressed in your silk nightgown and your hair was released from the braids and pins from the day. 

“Aemond,” you called out to him as the door closed behind you.

“Wife,” he sat in his usual seat facing the fire, back turned to you.

You padded over to him.

“You sent for me?”

“I did.”

You shrug at him and your eyes find a letter in his hand.

“Do your eyes wonder, wife?”

You grimace, “I’m sorry?”

He reads off the paper, “My mother’s garden is far from lacking, still, I do miss the smell of roses.”

You furrow your brows at him and at the mention of your preferred scent.

“Now . . . have you been seeking the company of other men?” he looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Yes,” you lie. What were you doing?

His eyebrows raised, he let out a dry laugh, and looked into the flames of the fireplace, “Hm . . .”

He shakes his head and says, “Get out.”

“Do you want to know what me and this man would do in each other’s company?” What were you doing?

“Get out,” he was looking at you now.

“Depraved things,” you whispered, eyes locked on him, feet planted to the ground.

 “Get. Out.”

“And he would . . .,” you reached for the straps on your nightgown, the loose fit allowing the straps to come off your shoulders causing the silk to fall from your body to a pool at your feet, “touch me here-“ you channeled the best you knew from the novels tucked tightly into your shelves. You hand moved at a snail's pace towards your lower navel-

“That’s enough!” Aemond rose from his seat and took long strides towards you. He grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements. His eyes burned into yours, seemingly unphased by the sight of you completely bare before him. Blinded by his rage. 

You didn’t know what you were thinking. You weren’t. However, you knew you liked seeing him like this. 

“Your lover’s head will be delivered on a spike to his family due morning. Do you understand me?” 

You look up at him, jaw clenched, smile bright on your face.

“And I myself will deal with you.” 

“Oh yeah? How so?” you tilt your head at him.

“What has gotten into you?!” he implored.

“I’m lying!”

He takes a step back from you, disgusted and obviously not buying it.

“I have lain with no other man, husband.” you shook your head.

He moves to pick up the letter, the paper crinkling in his fingers.

“On my mother, I haven't, you must believe me!”

He looks up at you then, eyelids heavy. He moves to throw the letter into the flames of the fire, watches as the parchment is engulfed by the flames, then turns to walk back to you. He grabs a firm hold of your jaw and pulls your face to look up at him. 

“On your mother?” he knew you held such sayings with high reverence.

“On my mother, on everything. I am not aware of why he remembers my scent” you say with a now shattered veneer.

“Why do you forget yourself?”

“I liked for a moment that the idea of someone else claiming me would make you upset. I liked the idea of you fighting for me. I liked seeing you angry and that it was because of my doing. It makes me feel-”

“What? Amused?” he furrows his brows at you.

“Wanted. Aemond, it makes me feel wanted. Men writing letters to me is more indicative of your character than of mine,” you moved your arms to cover your body now, somehow feeling more naked, “does it not bother you, not that they want me, but that they see a gap in our marriage wide enough to prod at?”

After a moment you wait for him to respond, but there’s silence and you shake your head. You bend down to grab the nightgown at your feet and pull the straps back over your shoulders. You take one more glance at him before walking to the door.

“Wait,” he reaches for your arm. You turn to him.

“Sleep in my bed with me tonight,” he says.

When you don’t answer, he sweeps you up from your feet and carries you bridal style to his bed. After setting you down, he slings his trousers and tunic to his chair and crawls in with you. He lays his head on the pillow next to yours, facing you. You lay flat on your back staring at the ceiling. You could feel his eye scanning your face.

You thought about how silly it would sound if you explained to your closest friend that after this amount of time into your marriage, though short, you were just now laying in your husband's bed. You also thought about how he only did this after being threatened with the idea of another man wanting you. How you were only worth fighting for because another man deemed you worthy of doing so. You began to cry. 

Aemond sat up and pulled you into his arms. He cradled you close to his chest as you sobbed. The only sound filling the room was your muffled weeps into his chest. He rocked you back and forth and pulled you tighter to him.

“I have wronged you,” he says.

You say nothing.

“I told myself that I was doing you a favor by distancing myself from you as we are not bound by love,” he said, “I created a sequence in my head: a marriage before the septon then a baby as consummation. My job as a second son, a pawn. My favor to you after our wedding was to make this process as stealthy as possible. My way of coping with that was to take the human aspect out of it. Remove the fluff. Make it impersonal. That was my mistake.”

“You don’t know how lonely it’s been,” you responded, voice quiet.

“I want to make it up to you,” he sounded desperate, “how do I make it up to you?”

“Time.”

“That’s all I need.”

“Effort.”

“Of course.”

“I would like you, for the time being, to make love to me instead of fuck me and it will be when I say,” you look at him.

“Okay,” he responds in a hushed tone, eyes darkening.

“Not now, another time,” you sigh, “but tonight you will hold me as we sleep and I hope not to wake up to an empty bed in the morning.”

He nods and lifts you to lay you back on your side of the bed again. You fall asleep with your back to his chest. This would be the new order of things.

#aemond targaryen

[aemondavenue]

does anyone have any aemond fic recs where the main character isn't the daughter of rhaenyra, alys rivers isn't demonized, and that are true to aemond's character? 🙏 can be on here or ao3

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction

[aemondavenue]

EVERY EWAN MITCHELL ROLE — Billy Washington in Trigger Point (2022)

#his eyes are so big and pretty for begging #who said that

[aemondavenue]

allure {aemond targaryen x siren!reader}

word count: 900

warnings: afab reader. toxic/unhealthy dynamics. chronic pain. angst. not much really.

note: all grammar mistakes are my own. i don't have much plans for this, but it has been sitting in my drafts for a while. tell me what you think.

You found him beautiful.

The way his silky white hair flows behind him with the wind as he stares out into the harsh pitch black waters. 

He frequented this spot on the beach during the night. He would pace before the shore and throw rocks into the water before retreating back from where he came.

You collected these rocks as gifts from him. You hoped one day you would muster up the courage to reveal yourself to him, as he has to you.

Your sisters would be furious.

“Just kill him already!” They would say, but you had no such desire.

One night his visit was especially late. His demeanor is unfamiliar. His usually confident stride was replaced with a near stumble over itself. His face contorts and a palm raised to his temple. Was he drunk? You squint your eyes to get a better look. 

No. He was in pain.

He let his knees hit the soft sand. You saw as he tried to steady his breath with little relief to the pain in his head. You wanted to help him. You wanted to make his pain go away. 

If you could just- He winces again. You have seen enough. Your eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

You had never sung your siren song around a man.

You knew its impact. You’d seen it from your sisters.

Maybe this time it could be used for good.

Make his pain go away. Distract him.

You start with a hum, but it’s too quiet for him to hear. Drowned out by the crashing waves.

You hum louder before properly projecting your voice.

Your singing voice has been described as smooth and angelic. To use it in such a way left a foreign taste in your mouth.

But he still couldn’t hear you. You swam closer, your tail pushing you forward from behind your shielding rock.

You projected your voice now. Your song sounded haunting in combination with the waves. It was a mixture of hums and your native tongue. 

The kind of song that lured men off the decks of ships to their brutal demise. The kind of song that could make entire fleets of seamen go crazy in search of its source. The kind of deceptive destruction your kind were known for and others warned about.

This was not your intention tonight, however.

Once your sound was in earshot of him his posture lifted slightly and his hand slowly left its grasp on his face. He began to make his way closer to the shore as if his body and mind no longer connected.

He was making his way closer to you.

You stuttered amidst your song, but kept going. This was your time. You two would meet as fate always intended. Your dreams as prophecies. You felt them to be true.

On his hands and knees, he crawled to you.

Your song beckoned him.

His strife replaced the sound of your voice.

This is working, you thought to yourself.

His hands reached the seam of the shore where the sand grew wet.

You didn’t have the intention of luring him to you, but still you couldn’t bring yourself to stop just yet.

His trousers were now soaked from the knee down. There was an unfamiliar gleam in his lone eye. His pupil was dilated. His mouth was agape. He looked helpless in a way you’d never seen.

Once you were finally in eye shot of him, his expression shifted from desperate to deep concern.

His eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head. 

He nearly gasps at the sight of you. He broke your trance.

“Do you plan to kill me, sea witch?”

You shook your head at him. Sea witch?

“Be gone then. Get off our shores,” his words were harsh, but his voice weak.

You don’t budge from your position, but you stop singing.

“I said! Be gon-“ he stumbles back in his tracks. The raising of his own voice beckoned his pain to return. He realizes that the halting of your song no longer shielded him from his agony.

You watched as his troubled gaze averted to the shoreline bubbling beneath him, seemingly in deep thought.

You opened your mouth to speak, but were interrupted.

“My prince!” you heard a male voice from beyond the shore.

“My prince! Are you hurt?!” you watched as the armored men approached him. 

Against your desires you swam away from the shore in fear that they would spot you. Aemond watched as your hair disappeared amidst the waves. He clenched his fist at the sight.

His men now approached him and one with a supportive hand on his back asked, “Are you alright? The hour is late, my prince.”

He hated for them to see him like this.

He couldn’t mind it for long as the realization of your absence dawned upon him.

“Did you see that?” his gaze was fixed on the crashing waves. Dark abyss for miles on end.

The guards looked at the waves and then amongst each other. Concern grew on their faces.

“Let us help you inside my Prince,” a dark haired man suggested with an outstretched hand to help him up.

Aemond felt himself be guided away from the shore. His mind trapped with the peculiar girl he watched be engulfed in the waves.

[aemondavenue]

#aemond targaryen

[aemondavenue]

every time we see Aemond he gotta remind us his waist is tiny

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #thoughts

[aemondavenue]

ewan mitchell in salad days

#ewan mitchell

[aemondavenue]

stop putting Aemond in your fic polls with other Ewan characters

he’s always gonna win

#sincerely #the least popular vote :( #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #thoughts

[aemondavenue]

I think Ewan's public persona being different from the way he is perceived in real life makes sense. We have heard what people have to say about him. Plenty say he's nice. The Last Kingdom boys describe him as shy or more accurately reserved. He's gentle and interesting according to Fabien Frankle. We've seen his usual demeanor in interviews. Soft spoken. Not a lot of eye contact. Part of the reason I found him interesting was because of how different he seems from his characters on screen. As an actor we have seen he expresses himself most when putting on a performance. Obviously it is uncomfortable to create a version of someone in your head and slowly have that dispelled once they start to unveil themselves more. To me it makes sense that having a sort of public persona (ie. the way his stylist has been dressing him, his demeanor on stage at CCXP) would be an easy way for him to honor Aemond and also mask himself during promo. He is still very private and we still don't know much about him personally. That is okay.

#ewan mitchell #thoughts

[aemondavenue]

this was cruel and calculated

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell

[aemondavenue]

the transition between osferth’s sexuality being played for laughs in the last kingdom to aemond being the most sexualized man in house of the dragon is so funny

#aemond targaryen #osferth #house of the dragon #the last kingdom #ewan mitchell

[aemondavenue]

Reblog if it's okay to invade your ask box

Always