#I have to morrow tomorrow

[dontbotherwiththepronunciation]

☕️ OTP: Nameless ladies

(Yes, I am targeting you with this) ≖‿≖

Your emoji looks like Nanami smiling before realising she is adopted.

2.

Th€yne? Thram$ay? Gre¥$now? Nah man, let's Stan the true unproblematic hot Ironborn x thirsty Mainlander OTP:

Captain of the Myraham's daughter x Hagen's beautiful red haired daughter.

I want them to hook up. Let the captain of the Myraham's daughter live her erotic saltwife fantasy with the one (1) woman in Asha's crew that we know of, the one ironborn hot murderous pirate who would actually understand the struggle that is to act as a narrative prop for some authorial entity to showcase one of the Greyjoy's siblings lack of ideological integrity.

I have been marinating in my own theories with little to no contact with the fandom since 2016. I have a lot of weird non-sensical thoughts that might be overreaching in their significance but you know that already and the worst possible thing that could develop from posting this is that people will laugh at it.

I think that Kyra and Urri serve as similar narrative props for Theon & Aeron, I think Jeyne & Falia also serve as similar narrative props for Theon & Aeron and I also think that the Captain of the Myraham's Daughter & Hagen's beautiful red haired daughter serve as similar props for Theon & Asha.

In Theon's case the concept of the captain of the myraham's daughter has already been discussed countless times and in all honesty I don't have much to add to it. Yes, he does treat her rather disrespectfully, he does take advantage of her in a way, he doesn't really care for her physical pleasure, he is dismissive of her uneasiness and has a few unkind thoughts about her which made him so loathsome, but all in all I wouldn't call him abusive or violent. Just disappointing.

There is something unbelievably funny about how bad that sexual encounter goes though. The captain of the myraham's daughter is endearingly enthusiastic about the concept of thraldom and salt wives and even begs Theon to take her with him, something he denies her.

Why though? He has been romanticising the Old Way (Or what he thinks he understands about this idolised and romanticised view of the Old Way) the entire journey and if he truly considers himself to be one of the exemplary Ironborns who would take what they wanted with no qualms, why does he leave her there? She could have even served as an example of virility or status, a mark to say "I am Ironborn. I haven't forgotten our history and culture."

But no, he just leaves her there to the mercy of an angry father.

I know she has been read as a narrative vessel hundreds of times and she is one, but the message behind her presence varies depending on interpretation and, to me, this could be (among other things) a way of displaying Theon's subconscious lack of ideological compromise, which we see often through the text (his reaction to the raids on the stony shore, his disappointment at how commonly the other Ironborn treat him, Smiler, etc.)

To me Hagen's beautiful red haired daughter is also evidence for an ideological divide concerning Ironborn culture and tradition, but she is there to signify Asha's, not Theon's.

Ironborn culture is so interesting to me and I tend to think of it more fondly than I'm probably supposed to because of hundreds of reasons I've already told you about and one of those is that it allows women more liberties than most of Westeros but still chains them to a place of submission compared to men. A woman might be the captain of her own ship, which would make her a queen if going by Theon.

"If every captain was a king aboard his own ship, as was often said, it was small wonder they named the islands the land of ten thousand kings." (Theon | ACOK)

I think on the video games they could even become priestesses for the Drowned God, so if going by that as canon world-building (we shouldn't but it would be cool) they could also find a place in religious organisations. They can be stewards. The only two female stewards we have met in asoiaf are Iron Islanders (Manifesting for Noseless Jeyne to become Pyke or Harlaw's steward at the end of ADOS).

And yet...the most gender-non-conforming Ironborn woman we've met, asides from Asha...doesn't even get a name.

It seems curious to me how Hagen's beautiful red haired daughter is only known as that: "Hagen's daughter" and this coming from ASHA out of all characters who is actively struggling with her culture's sexism in order to get the seastone chair for herself.

Most Iroborn characters are referred to by mentioning some physical feature or disability accompanying their name, but in her case, instead of her name, we get her father's name used with a possessive apostrophe.

The main difference between Asha's character archetype and Hagen's beautiful red haired daughter's, is that one of them is lowborn and the other not, which could be a way of highlighting how class differences still exist among Ironborn, who consider themselves to be equals in their superiority of other races but still have a feudal hierarchy, but in all honesty the class issue is (in my opinion) overshadowed by how both characters identities are so depending on their fathers.

The text often remarks on Asha as someone who was "groomed" (the very use of that word in fanon text already has some unconscious troublesome connotation I don't agree with) into her personality by her father.

This girl forgets herself. Balon let her believe she was a man." "Balon’s sons are dead. All I see is Balon’s little daughter!" (Aeron | AFFC)

Never do they ever speak of her as "Asha" when it is about her wanting the crown; it's about Balon's daughter. (In a way it reminds me of the Northerner's going to save Arya and also not referring to her as such. They speak of "Ned's girl")

But anyway, I never really expected them to refer to Asha as Asha, but I would have hoped Asha would have been conscious enough of her struggles to recognise her fellow warrior woman as more than just her father's shadow.

Whenever people speculate on how Asha's interactions with other gender-non-conforming women (ex. Brienne, Arya) might look like, I just think of Hagen's beautiful red haired daughter. and wonder whether this comes from a place of class privilege or unconsciousness against the thing she is consciously fighting against.

I have no idea what Asha's endgame might look like and usually, I like seeing her as Theon's puppeteer, but if we have to witness her settling to be the unofficial ruler or perhaps not even a ruler at all, it would be sad to see her haunted by her father's shadow. It also makes me wonder whether she really ever had a chance at the Kingsmoot.

Whatever, another possibility I like to fantasise about is simply that Asha and Hagen's beautiful red haired daughter hooked up, dated, had a messy breakup and now Asha is trying to distance herself from her.

That's a funnier alternative. Would also add angst and maybe some comedic potential to the nameless ladies OTP.

Ship, ship, ship, I ship.

#for my birthday I wanted to commission someone to draw or write them as a 70s ertica or something #I can't even read eotica without being triggered but I think the sapphics deserve it. #I'm gonna make them on sims medieval #asoiaf #asha greyjoy #*shrek 2 voice*: they (the women this is about) don't even have tags #I love it when grrm pulls an All the Names on us #He learnt from Saramago and for that I respect him #theostrichsdaughter #has to read All the Names! #I have to reread All the Names again #I have to revisit the all the names/Theon Greyjoy/der verlorene analysis when I finish the term #no one would understand nor be interested in that but I'm used to that #Theon and der verlorene are 180° degree turns on the same angle #Asha is der verlorene while Theon is Arnold but also Theon is the actual Verlorene while Asha is the true Arnold their parents dreamed of #Alannys/Mutter Balon/Vater Theon-Asha/Der Verlorene-Arnold but inverted. #I have to finish translating der verlorene #I have to finish the term #I have to go to Europe #I have to morrow tomorrow #*cries* #god this fucking escalated #otp: they don't even have names #speaking

[fandoms-spamdom]

Hi (said with extreme anxiety)

#I don’t even have social anxiety is the thing so idk why I’m so nervous about this maybe it’s the grading aspect of it idk but anyways #if tomorrow my blog is me crying just ignore me I’ll be back to tip top fandom’s spamdom material in the morrow

[volfoss]

It's gonna be really bad if I get hooked into arena like I'm going to become a whole new breed of weird guy posting

#twist rambles #^ in the way of my habit of being like wow this character is so cool looking (they are like 30 pixels at most) #i have slept a few hours and being in the VERY last home stretch of the guide has made me really excited for it... did u guys know there are #2 kha/jit replacement mods that replace them with Garfield... i will be getting one of them altho i dont think ill play one bc man they look #so bad in arena... prob hi elf or lizard guy as i AM a little Argo lover... but hi elf seems to be a rly good race esp 4 the first 2 games #but itll be bad im sorry i think playing only ps1 games lately has done shit to me bc minus the kinda clunky ui... the first 2 games dont #look that bad... btw doing all of this bc i was so scared of playing morrow/wind (played Sky/rim first #so i figured if i start w the most difficult/biggest/hardest games itll seem like nothing by the time i get there. but yeah very excited for #it when im free of editing the guide and like... everything else w it... I'm excited to get it all modded tomorrow bc theres barely any mods #so it's not as overwhelming as DF is mod wise like... looking at mod recs for that game is terrifying. but anyways yeah:) if i do commit to #the bit im sorry. also tags extra censored so i dont get random ppl liking a personal post like last time lol

[clown-demon]

He's asleep at his desk, nodding off in the middle of working on his computer. He was mostly reading news on it, but was so tired he just dozed off.

#Gonna head to bed #My aim is to get up early morning and queue the rest of my replies for later #I have work tomorrow #I also may doodle up some more icons after I reply to my drafts #we'll see! #Nini see you all morrow~!

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 7, day 22, almost done! The rest of the alphabet and then the numerals I'll have to get via Cuff scan and memory monuments, and there's very little punctuation other than what I have here. So, yeah! Woo!

#the great artscapade of 2023 #forspoken #forspoken font #athia #athian #athian alphabet #athian font #athian font project #athian script #I have a surprise for y'all tomorrow :3 #assuming I remember #which I might #or I might not #but it involves every single blade of grass on the continent of Athia ;D #and also the gift and art of resuming long projects from where one left them off at #that enough hints? #photo dumps resume on the morrow!!! #WOOP WOOP!!!

[gingersqroot]

Who else will subconsciously just not even try to sleep despite (Indeed, seemingly because of) how very tired you are? Why do I do this to myself, it already takes me at least 1/2 hour just to muster enough to get out of bed on a good day, & if I'm lucky it'll take the same to actually fall asleep in the first place.

#why #why do i do this to myself #need sleep #I have a lot to do tomorrow & need to get up early for it #but I just don't #I know I'm gonna pay for it on the morrow

[tinkerotr]

my roommate paid 22,11$ for EGGS AND MILK

EGGS AND FUCKING MILK

granted there are two milks, BUT STILL

#inflation is an issue past needing a fix #i’m so frustrated and they’re trying to say that by 2025 most groceries are to only accept electronic payments #like how can you tell me that you keep raising the prices of shit when you’re basing economics on A NUMBER ON A SCREEN FROM THEN ON #do you seeeeee now #is it clear enough this is a war against marginalized communities #i can’t just decide to not get my meds this month! or to skip my birth control cause then i’ll have to be hospitalized and miss work #and that’s already happened mind you! i got a concussion and couldn’t work for shit and am still recovering from that both physically #and economically #how are people meant to plan their ambitions and goals when it’s a challenge to conceptualize the survival of tomorrow and morrow and morrow

[rainydayscribbling]

I just sucked out a post abuse scene out of my fingers and I‘m pretty proud of it. Would show you but it‘s in German and pretty late into a fic…

I‘ll post some of my writing soon, I promise

#writeblr #james halliday #yes #the fic is Moralliday #yes I do write in English and German #I hope to publish some Halliday crumbs for you tomorrow #have fun with the x Morrow pairing #hehe

[marshmellowtea]

i can’t. believe i’m saying this but i think i’m gonna go to bed soon so goodnight loves i’ll be here to harass you in the morning 💞

#i’m weirdly tired for how drunk and annoying i feel lol #so i think i’m gonna turn in i have plans to #morrow anyway so it’s probably for the best #love y’all see ya tomorrow <3 i’ll try to be more social then <3 #marshy speaks

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Blood of My Blood

Summary: Stuck between duty and passion, she is given no choice but to yield to the game Aemond wishes to play | Words: 4.1k~ | Warnings: a lot of talk of illegitimacy, hatefucking, dubcon, incest (character is implied to have strong features), p in v sex, baby trapping, forced marriage

Can be read as a stand-alone or as a part two for The Blood is Rare!

His fingers tightened around her arm, the pressure a mix of anger and possessiveness. He forcefully ushered her across the threshold of the chambers she once called home, back when she resided there alongside the Hightower children. The worn flagstones caused her feet to stumble, while her forearm throbbed with bruises from his grip. She shot him a glance filled with both hurt and fury.

“You cannot treat me like this,” she spat viciously. 

Aemond merely stepped back, his expression unyielding. "You are to be my wife. I'll treat you as I please."

Before she could reach the double doors, they slammed shut, brass fixtures rattling as Aemond hastened to secure her inside. Despite her feeble attempts to push back against the doors, her fists bruised from the effort, he locked her in without hesitation.

“They will come for me!” she screamed in protest, “unlock this, at once!”

Locked within the confines of the chamber, her heart pounded with a mixture of fear and defiance. She paced the room, her mind racing with thoughts of escape and retribution. Outside, the distant echoes of footsteps and murmured voices hinted at the presence of guards or servants, but she knew she couldn't rely on them for help.

King Viserys was dead. And Alicent Hightower planted her son on her mother’s throne.

As the hours dragged on, her frustration grew with each passing moment. She tried every possible means of escape, but the sturdy oak doors remained firmly shut, sealing her fate within the chamber. Her mind raced with thoughts of her family, of the kingdom thrown into turmoil by the sudden death of King Viserys. And now, with Aemond's revelation of his family's plan to anoint Aegon on the morrow, she realised the true extent of the danger she faced.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing outside her prison. The door creaked open, and Aemond stepped into the room, his expression unreadable. She studied his face, and saw he looked slightly withered and tired, covered with a mask of coldness.

"We have much to discuss," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "But first, you must understand the gravity of the situation."

She eyed him warily, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"Aegon will be crowned tomorrow," he explained, his tone solemn. "And my family has plans for us as well."

Her stomach churned with dread as she listened to his words. "What plans?"

"A marriage," he said simply, his gaze unwavering. "In the traditions of our ancestors, to solidify our alliance and secure our place in the new realm."

Her mind reeled at the thought of marrying the man who had imprisoned her against her will. But she knew that in the game of thrones, alliances were forged with marriages as much as with swords.

A tension-laden silence filled the chamber, thick with unspoken words and unyielding resolve. her heart pounded in her chest as she weighed her options, acutely aware of the consequences of her decision. The memory of their clandestine tryst, a moment of forbidden passion she dared not admit she had enjoyed, lingered in the recesses of her mind, adding an unexpected layer of complexity to the situation.

"I will not be your pawn," she said, her voice trembling with defiance. 

A flicker of anger flashed across Aemond's face, but it was quickly replaced by a cold mask of indifference.

"You have no choice," he said icily. "You will marry me, for the good of our families and the realm. Just as Daeron will wed a Baratheon girl, to secure-"

She shook her head stubbornly, her resolve hardening with each passing moment. "I will not be forced into a marriage I do not want."

Aemond's gaze narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "Do not be foolish, mandianna. You have a duty to your family, to the legacy of House Targaryen. You will marry me, and you will bear me heirs to secure our place in history."

But she refused to be swayed by his empty words. "I will not be your broodmare, and I will not be shackled to you for the rest of my days," she declared, her voice trembling with righteous indignation. "Not when you have already taken so much from me."

Aemond's expression darkened, his features contorted with anger. "Do not speak to me of what I have taken," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You gave yourself to me willingly, and now you will suffer the consequences."

She swallowed thickly, her pride blurring the edges of what she knew was the truth.

“He is no King of mine.”

A heavy silence settled over the chamber, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a shroud of defiance. Aemond's eye blazed with fury, his jaw clenched so tightly it seemed as if he might shatter his teeth with the force of his anger. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the tension between them palpable. The threat of declaring treason hung heavy.

Finally, Aemond broke the silence, his voice cold and menacing. "You dare to defy me," he hissed, his words dripping with contempt. "You would betray your own blood, your own family, for the sake of your misguided principles?"

She met his gaze head-on, her chin lifted defiantly despite the tremble in her limbs. "I will not betray my mother," she declared, her voice steady despite the fear that gnawed at her insides. "You speak of blood after years of declaring me and my brothers alike your sole distaste.”

Aemond's nostrils flared with barely contained rage at her words, his eye narrowing into a slit as he took a step closer, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. "Do not presume to lecture me on matters of blood," he seethed, his voice a low growl that reverberated through the chamber. "You may share the blood of House Targaryen, but you lack the fire that defines our lineage."

“Careful, Uncle,” she whispered, her voice tinged with fury, “I am as much Targaryen as you.”

A flicker of doubt crossed Aemond's features, his gaze faltering for a moment before hardening once more into a mask of disdain. "You may share the name, but you lack the strength and resolve to wield it," he sneered, his words like a lash that cut through the air between them. "You are nothing but a weak, insignificant girl who fancies herself a dragon."

Her jaw tightened at Aemond's cutting words, her resolve hardening as she refused to let his insults diminish her spirit. "Strength is not defined by the size of one's flames, Uncle," she retorted, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.

Aemond's lip curled in a mixture of anger and begrudging admiration. Despite himself, he couldn't deny the fire that burned within her, the same fire that had characterised the Targaryen bloodline for generations. "You have spirit, I'll give you that," he conceded, his voice low and grudgingly impressed. "But spirit alone will not save you from the realities of this world."

She held his gaze, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts as she felt the tension between them crackle like lightning in the air. Despite their antagonistic exchange, there was an undeniable chemistry that simmered just beneath the surface, a primal attraction that neither of them could ignore.

As if sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Aemond took another step closer, his eye darkening with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. "You may defy me, niece," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "But deep down, you know that we are bound together by more than just blood and duty."

She felt her throat close up, her body betraying what she wanted him to believe about her. That she recoiled at the mere sight of him. That she could not bear to be within the same quarters. That she hated him.

And all of it was a lie.

She would not have given herself so freely to him in that darkened alcove if she truly loathed him. And yet her pride marred the truth.

“You will be my wife,” Aemond stated, his voice devoid of negotiation. It was a command, wrapped in the certainty of his position, a reflection of the harsh realities of their lineage and the role they played in the ongoing struggle for power.

Her reaction was a mix of defiance and disbelief. This was not the offer of a partner, but the demand of a prince used to being obeyed. Yet, even as the words hung in the air between them, she could not ignore the complex web of emotions that tied her to this man. There was no love in this arrangement, but there was something else—something harder to define.

“You speak of marriage as though it were another battle to be won. I am not spoils of war to be claimed.”

Aemond’s eye, ever so piercing, momentarily hardened, hinting at the turmoil beneath his princely facade. His hand flew out, gripping her jaw as he had done that steamy evening, clutching her skin in his long fingers - a warning.

“Come with me, willingly or not. It is your choice, niece.”

Her eyes locked onto his with a fierceness that could rival any dragon's gaze, attempting to sear his very soul with her stare. Yet, in defiance of the forceful hand upon her jaw, she wrenched herself free, her breathing heavy with indignation. The so-called choice he presented felt like a cruel jest, highlighting the absence of any real agency she possessed.

The machinations of the Greens had cornered her into this union with Aemond, rendering any thought of escape futile from the outset.

Their wedding was a somber affair, marked more by the exchange of solemn vows and cold, resentful looks than any semblance of joy or union. Throughout the ceremony, her thoughts wandered, detached from the grim proceedings. And when the final blessings were about to be pronounced, she turned abruptly, her last vestiges of defiance carrying her away to the solitude of her quarters.

The sense of betrayal that churned within her was overwhelming, a treachery not only to her mother's cause but to herself. The disappointment her family would feel loomed over her, a burden more oppressive than the iron crown could ever be.

Moreover, the realisation that this marriage was orchestrated merely to secure an heir, to bind her bloodline to Aemond's as a political safeguard against total war, was revolting.

Standing alone, she tried to steady her trembling hands by focusing on the wine cup she held, just as Aemond's footsteps halted behind her. She braced herself for an encounter she dreaded, yet his next words took her by surprise.

“I shall bid you goodnight,” he said simply.

She spun around, half-expecting to confront a man prepared to enforce his will regardless of her consent. Instead, she met his gaze and found something unexpected—a reflection of restraint and perhaps a hint of understanding.

In that moment, a complex array of emotions coursed through her, challenging her perceptions and forcing her to acknowledge the intricate layers of their predicament.

“I will not lay with you tonight. You do not wish it.”

Her guard, so meticulously maintained, began to falter at the honesty in his words. "And what of tomorrow?" she asked, a tinge of cynicism threading her question. "When the sun rises, will your sense of duty not dictate our interactions?”

"It likely will," he conceded, the corners of his mouth turning down in a grimace. "But tonight, you've had enough battles to face. I won't add to them."

The silence that fell between them was filled with a tentative understanding, a fragile thread connecting two individuals caught in the crossfire of political machinations and familial obligations.

Yet, she was acutely aware that Aemond was not a mere bystander in the unfolding of these events. And it would be a mistake for him to assume she would quietly acquiesce to their circumstances.

Throughout the following day, Aemond's absence hung over her like a shadow, his presence felt more in his lack than in actuality. The dread of uncertainty twisted in her stomach, her mind conjuring scenarios that left her restless and wide-eyed, staring at the chamber doors until the early hours. The knowledge of her new status as his wife did nothing to ease her apprehension. It only highlighted her vulnerability, the potential for him to assert his marital rights in a way that robbed her of any semblance of control.

Yet, despite her fears, Aemond remained absent, his intentions opaque, leaving her to grapple with the anxiety of anticipation alone. The silence of the night was broken only by the distant, powerful beats of Vhagar's wings, a sound that resonated with ominous foreboding. She watched from her window as the great dragon, with Aemond upon her back, vanished into the stormy clouds that brooded overhead.

When Aemond returned to their chambers, it was not the composed prince who entered but a man storming in, soaked to the bone, his demeanor radiating tight, barely controlled anger. The storm outside mirrored his internal tempest, the rain that clung to him a testament to the chaos that seemed to follow in his wake.

His sudden appearance in the dead of night, the way he moved with a predatory grace, charged the air with a palpable tension. She could see in his expression the fracture of a man who had lost control, his ego bruised by the events that had transpired, a dangerous edge to his anger that made her heart race.

In that moment, the dynamics of their relationship stood on a knife's edge, the events of the night poised to define the course of their future interactions. It was a test of wills, a confrontation between power and vulnerability, where the choices they made could either bridge the gap between them or widen it into an insurmountable chasm.

"Aemond," she began, her voice steady despite the fear that threatened to choke her words. "What has happened?"

He halted mid-pace, turning towards her. The flicker of the candles reflected off his wet face, casting shadows that made his expression all the more inscrutable. "The game has changed," he said through gritted teeth, his voice a low growl.

Her eyes traced his movements, every nerve alight.

“What game?” She dared to ask.

Aemond's gaze was steel, the kind that cut deeper than swords. "The game we're all pawns in—the game for the Iron Throne." His words were heavy, laden with a darkness that seemed to suck the warmth from the room. 

“Aemond, tell me plainly. What have you done.”

Her voice was terse, but it trembled.

There was a hardness in his gaze, a glint of something fierce and unyielding.

"Luke," he finally uttered, his tone laden with a severity that chilled her to the bone.

In that instant, clarity and horror crashed over her like a wave. Luke was gone, his life extinguished in the brutal game of thrones that spared no one, not even the innocent. A gnawing question arose within her: Had her mother been informed, or was she, too, left in the dark until now?

The realisation that Aemond, now her husband, had been responsible for her brother's death sent a shiver of fear down her spine. The man standing before her, cloaked in shadows and rain, was no longer just the prince she had been bound to in a marriage of convenience. He was a killer, capable of extinguishing a life—a life she had cherished. Luke's laughter, his teasing smile, the memories they shared, all extinguished in a moment's violence. And if Luke, then why not her? 

Aemond's demeanour shifted, perhaps sensing the change in her perception. "You fear me now," he stated, not a question but a flat acknowledgement.

She took a cautious step back, her mind racing. The man before her, powerful enough to command dragons and armies, had shown he did not shy away from kinslaying. "I believe I ought to" she countered, her voice a whisper of defiance.

He paused, and in that silence, the harsh reality of their situation seemed to settle around them like a cloak. As Aemond moved closer, intending to assert himself, she couldn't suppress the instinctual urge to retreat. The space between them, filled with the unsaid and the undone, seemed insurmountable.

She could not help the stark whimper that escaped her when his fingers formed a fist in her hair at the back of her head, pulling her unyielding face up to meet his, his angered breath spilling over her face.

“You believe I would harm you.”

How could she not? She thought. He had so often shown a calm, quiet anger. And unleashed it all within a short afternoon, with Luke's body somewhere at the bottom of the sea surrounding Storm’s End.

“You dare to question this when you have murdered my brother,” she spat back at him.

Jaw clenched, Aemond raised his other hand to his eye patch, quickly ripping it off to reveal to her what was beneath it. The angry red scar extended from his forehead to his cheek, jagged, clumsy. And where his eye would have been was raw, a bright sapphire sitting firmly within the socket, forboding.

Of course, she knew what Luke had done, but she had never seen him like this. Fear gripped at her skin, and a strange throbbing between her thighs at the way he looked over her like this. Thought she attempted to now show that on her face.

Her expression must have mirrored poor Luke's mere hours before, as her new husband gazed down at her, his demeanour terrifyingly calm.

“You defend your little bastard brother after how he has maimed me?”

“Aemond, please-” she pleaded, only moving away an inch before her husband tugged her back, tighter.

“Your brother was of no use to this realm. But you,” he spat, one hand tucking up her skirts and then meanly digging at her hips, “I need your sweet little cunt for my heirs, mandianna.”

She felt her mouth go dry, unable to say a thing. She whimpered again when he used his grip on her hair to turn her body around, keeping her back towards his chest, his fingers slipped along her jaw, as if to communicate that he could wrap them around her throat at any moment.

Aemond was sitting on a knife’s edge. And she dare not tilt him in any particular direction. Equally though, she dare not admit to herself that it was exciting in a most forbidden way.

“You are my wife,” he murmured quietly, sliding her small clothes down her thigh, flourishing with gooseflesh, “and who am I to deny her her duty?”

She suppressed a yelp when her hands lay flat on the table, her breasts pressed hard against the oak as she felt Aemond's rapidly growing harness at her backside where he was rucking up her skirts. 

Though she tried to wriggle free of him, one hand at the nape of her neck with undeniable strength was all it took to remind her how much smaller she was than him. How difficult it would be to resist. Does she just go through with it? Let her Uncle, her brother's murderer, take her like a common whore whenever he wishes?

She could envisage no escape, and as ashamed as she was to admit it to herself, she could do nothing but submit. At least there would be some pleasure.

She jolted as his slender fingers parted her folds with a click of her essence coated his digits, dragging his touch from her opening to her overly-sensitive bud.

“See how wet you become for me still,” he murmured, pressing his chest against her back, broad body caging her in, “though I am the greatest sinner in the realm, your body still begs for it, sweet niece. What does that make you?”

“Kepus, please-” 

“A traitor to your own kin?” He whispered, exhaling shakily when he nudged her legs apart an inch and slipped the fat head of his cock between her arousal-glistened folds, disappearing into her without effort.

Her lips parted, a quiet moan slipping past at being split onto his length. And though little time had passed since their first tryst, she still felt the sting and girth of him as if it were.

Aemond groaned deeply, at the feeling of her sucking him in so willingly, her walls greedily tightening around his length.

“Or loyal to your kinslaying husband?” He added huskily.

How was she to respond when the air was incessantly pushed right from her lungs at every snap of his hips? The table legs creaked against the floor and her breasts ached from being pressed down to the oak by the tight grip of his fingers around her nape.

She wanted to say that he was brutalising her, taking what he wanted with no care for her pleasure, but even that wouldn't be true. Aemond's rhythmic grunts came hot against her ear as he rutted into her, his hand kneading the flesh of her buttock in one hand, grasping tightly to allow himself deeper access to her.

She felt as if she was betraying herself, moaning the way she was. And Aemond certainly did not miss a thing.

“Stubborn little cunt - saying you don't want it but I can feel you begging for my seed -”

The mocking tone of his voice had her clench around him, humiliation clawing at her skin the more Aemond speared her onto his length in quick rhythmic movements. Her moisture coated his shaft, his pelvis painting the inside of her thighs with it in the heat of their passion. 

Aemond looked down between them, his fingers leaving red marks on her buttock the more he gripped. Both hands drifted either side, pulling at her supple flesh to watch the way her cunt took him, his lips parted in appreciation of how he disappeared into her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling so boneless that she did not attempt to wiggle away when he was no longer holding her down. Instead her fingers curled over the table for stability in a desperate plea to ground herself from the hot, tight feeling building every time his cock hit her fleshy, wet end.

And just when she was getting used to the feeling, Aemond pulled her hips back to him, elevating her hips and slamming into her at an angle which brushed against that deep, sweet place inside her. 

A tingly, warm sensation fluttered up her spine, “kepus-”

“-fucking say you want it-” he murmured between breaths, pulling her onto him quicker the close the became to completion.

She bit her lip, if anything, using the last bit of her power to not give him the satisfaction of thinking she did in fact want it. So she remained silent, which only made his thrusts more aggressive and assertive.

“-I’ll give you my seed, watch you grow fat with child - and just when you think it's over, I'll fuck another one into you-”

Her nails dug into the oak, scraping painfully, lips parted in a soundless scream as she felt that wave of warmth and bliss crest, unable to control the way she fluttered around him.

Aemond strained, words caught tightly in his throat as he spilled inside of her, pulling her hips flush to him as if to mold himself to her irreparably. She shamefully felt herself tremble, her release still sending dull shockwaves through her blood as Aemond remained seated firmly within her.

She thought of her family. And how they would come to hate her for what she had become, allowing the man who had killed her brother to take her like this. She surely thought they would no longer see her the same with Aemond's child in her belly and tied to him by marriage. 

Tears threatened at her eyes, two feelings at war with one another, shame and pleasure.

She whimpered when Aemond pulled his softening cock from her, a rush of warm spend spilling down her thigh in a way that only exacerbated her humiliation.

“You will write to your mother and tell her of your loyalties.”

Aemond spoke so coldly in between soft pants, it was as if he was hardly the man she had known a few moments ago. It has always been like this. But in a way, it is what made him exciting. Unpredictability was as much exhilarating as it was terrifying.

A notion she held to as she glanced at him, his good eye hooded and blown wide and black with lust and the sapphire glinting in the orange glow of the room as if bloodthirsty.

The game had to be played. And if this was the way Aemond wanted to do it, then so be it.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

#aemond smut #prince aemond #aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x fem!oc #aemond x niece #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen smut #prince aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #prince aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond angst #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond targaryen fic

[plant-cell-park]

i want to grab blazer by his bomber jacket and slam him to a wall

#compost bin contemplations #me at that scene was just fuckin: WHAT. WHAT HUH WHAT. #also how does the robot gagging even work 🤨💬 #anyway stray good #ill finish it tomorrow i have bidness morrow morning

[mrrharper]

The Rookie's Figuring It Out

Going back to my dorm room, just had a meeting with Mr. Bridges, and he-- wait, who's Mr. Bridges? Anyway, just came out of a meeting with Coach, went great bro, got all the details figured out. Now I can go back to my place and relax, that was an exhausting day.

As I enter the dormitory building my phone buzzes. I take it and see I got a text from Jamie asking about... wait, what study group is he-- damn, some nerd got his numbers mixed up, I ain't joining no lame study group, no way bruh.

I enter my room and as I put my things away I feel my body aching. But i can't really say why, cause I didn't really-- dude, my muscles are, like, burning bro. Coach dragged me through a nightmare of a workout earlier, ya know, to see if I am worth putting on the roster.

i jump on the couch, now's the time to play some madden bruh, huhuhuhuh... dude, what are those books laying on the table? Intro to anthro... antrop... pology... that is, wait, I... I know, that's like-- huhuh bruh, that's some nerd shit here dude. dunno how it got here but i know where it'll go dude - straight into the trash, where it belongs bro.

bruh, where's my ps4 bro, dude? how am i s'possed to crush random losers on the internet when i don't have that fuckin' console-- dude, gotta prep some food for tomorrow, gotta get that protein huhuhuh, or Coach will get mad-- Coach says to eat enough calories and get enough protein. Coach's word is law. Coach is always right.

so i'm lookin' at my schedule, yeah? and we gotta practice 'morrow for like 4 hours or so, but here i have, in my calendar or whatever, and there's some college shit like dude, like classes and shit, like damn, i gotta tell Coach that i have some conflict in my schedule-- huhuhuhuh damn bro, got some fuckin' class in muh schedule during practice. fuck, what pussy goes to "ancient history 101" like, what a fuckin' idiot dude

wait bro, wait... so im a football bro, yeah, right, but i play college football, and college means, uhhh... like, what was that shit dude, damn... a major, right... college means havin' a major bro, and my major's something like... bruh, its like... oh wait-- huhuhuh dude, who gives a shit about some nerd shit bro, am here to play ball and bro out BRUH!

i 'ave Coach takin' care of all that boring ass shit dude, yeah, he's takin' care of all that smart bullshit and im just workin' out and tacklin' dudes bro. fuck yeah, dude, that's right bruh. im a fuckin' football dawg, born to play and to crush every goddamn dude who stands in my way bro, not to care 'bout any of that lame pussy shit bro. ya wanna go get those guns pumped, bro?

#jock #jock tf #nerd to jock tf #jock development #personality change

[wineauntie]

do you have a blurb of evie meeting quinn's parents? I don't see it on your masterlist but don't want to have missed it if you've written it. Thanks!

I won’t lie, I planned a fic about it, and then completely abandoned it…so here’s that!

this is a continuation of “meet the brothers” but can be read as a standalone!

word count: 1.3k

universe masterlist

"They're going to love you, y'know,"

You jolted in surprise from where you were shuffling around the kitchen nervously, your eyes landing on Luke, who scratched his head awkwardly. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, as you settled against the counter.

"I mean, Quinn loves you and Evie, he won't stop talking about you guys," Luke continued, "Mom is already obsessed with Evie since Quinn showed her photos of him teaching her to play hockey."

"I love him too," you softly supplied, your fingers fidgeting with the cuffs of your sleeves. "I just...I want them to like us. It sounds pathetic, but I really really love Quinn and Evie does too, if your parents don't like us...I don't know what would happen."

Luke nodded understandingly, a sympathetic smile gracing his lips. "I get it. But trust me, Mom and Dad are easy to get along with." He added, "They're just excited to meet the people Quinn cares about so much."

His reassurance eased some of the tension coiling in your stomach, but the nerves still lingered. You couldn't help but worry about making a good impression. After all, meeting your partner's parents was a big step in any relationship…especially if you’d already had a child before entering the relationship.

"Luke's right," Jack chimed in from the doorway. "Besides, anyone who can put up with Quinn deserves a medal in my mind."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at Jack's comment, grateful for the lighthearted distraction and as the minutes ticked by, the anticipation of Quinn's return with his parents grew stronger and almost unbearable.

Finally, the sound of the front door opening broke the silence, and you straightened up, your heart pounding in your chest. Quinn stepped inside, his face beaming as he ushered his parents into the apartment.

You tentatively stepped towards the hallway to watch as Quinn helped his parents with their bags. Your shaking hands were hidden by your sleeves, a small smile plastered across your face.

"Mom, Dad, this is y/n," Quinn introduced you, his hand finding its way to the small of your back. "y/n/n, this is my mom and dad."

"Hi," you waved but before you could say anything more, Ellen rushed forward and engulfed you in a hug.

"We've heard so much about you!" Ellen smiled, pulling away, "You're even prettier in person" Heat rose to your cheeks as you ducked your head bashfully. "Quinn has talked so much about you!"

"Way to bait me out, Mom," Quinn rolled his eyes, his hand interlocking with yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You let your trembling hand clutch his as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.

You went to speak again but you were cut off by the sound of the rapid patter of bare feet against the wooden flooring of the apartment. Evie came hurtling around the corner, and straight into your arms which had outstretched to catch her.

“Mama! Winnie!” Evie giggled, hopping into your arms, her eyes focused solely on you as her hands clutched the teddy bear Luke and Jack had gifted her. “Giant and Jack go park morrow?”

You chuckled at your girl, understanding her broken words, a sense of pride filling you at her growing vocabulary.

“I’m sure Luke and Jack would love to go to the park with you tomorrow, but Evie, darling, you’re meant to be in bed,” you spoke slowly, your eyes filled with love for your daughter as her eyebrows scrunched.

“Winnie, leave and come home!” Evie batted her lashes innocently, her hands stretched out to Quinn. The man in question, stood with his body swivelled towards you and Evie, his eyes sparkling with care as he reached for Evie.

You carefully handed Evie over to Quinn, watching as the girl instinctively curled into him. You heard sighs of awe coming from Quinn’s parents, and you seemed to not be the only one to notice them. Evie’s head tilted towards the two unfamiliar people standing by the door, her eyes wide and cautious as she looked at you before looking up at Quinn.

“Win…who that?” Evie tried to whisper, her voice carrying over to Ellen and Jim, but before Quinn could explain, his mom stepped forward.

“I’m Quinn’s mom,” Ellen smiled gently, her blue eyes scanning the little girl. She pointed behind her to her husband before she spoke again. “And that’s his dad.”

“Winnie mom and dad?” Evie scrunched up her nose as she looked between Ellen, Jim and Quinn.

“Yeah, Bug,” Quinn hummed, holding her closer to his chest. “This is my mom and dad, and they’re here just to meet you and your mom.”

Evie made an ‘o’ shape with her mouth, her head bobbing up and down in an understanding nod. She straightened in Quinn’s hold, her small arm stretched toward Ellen, her hand flexing.

Ellen chuckled heartily, taking Evie’s hand in her own and shaking it, before squeezing it gently. Evie giggled at the grasp, her eyes lighting up in glee. Ellen seemed enraptured by her small smile, her eyes flickering the Quinn and you with adoration laced across her face.

You watched the scene unfold before you with a mix of relief and warmth. Evie, who was usually reserved around strangers, seemed to be taking to Quinn's parents surprisingly well. The tension that had gripped you earlier slowly began to melt away, replaced by an odd sense of belonging.

Quinn's dad, Jim, stepped forward, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched the interaction between his wife and Evie, who were giggling back and forth. "You've got quite the charmer there, Quinn," he remarked with a grin, his voice deeper than you thought, his gruffness more gentle.

Quinn nodded, his gaze flickering between his daughter and his parents, a proud smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, she's something else, isn't she?" he spoke softly as Evie nestled further into his chest, a yawn wracking through her little body. "I think this little one needs to go to bed," 

"Of course," Ellen practically gushed.

"See Winnie Mom and Dad morrow?" Evie's eyes were wide and questioning as she and Quinn looked at you. 

You exchanged a glance with Quinn, a silent understanding passing between you. Despite the late hour, Evie's excitement at meeting Quinn's parents had been noticeable, and you didn't want to disappoint her. With a gentle smile, you nodded in agreement.

"Of course, Bug," you said softly, reaching out to ruffle her hair affectionately. "We'll see them tomorrow."

Evie's face lit up with joy, her tiredness momentarily forgotten as she snuggled closer to Quinn. "Yay! Winnie see Mom and Dad morrow!" she exclaimed tiredly, her words muffled against his chest.

Ellen and Jim exchanged amused glances, their fondness for their granddaughter evident in their eyes. "We'll look forward to it, sweetheart," Ellen said warmly, her hand reaching out to stroke Evie's cheek gently.

Nodding at Quinn, you and his parents watched, as he carried her towards her bedroom, the excitement of the evening finally catching up to her as she yawned sleepily. After tucking her into bed and sharing a few whispered words of love, you and Quinn quietly made your way back to the living room, where his parents were waiting.

As you settled onto the couch with Quinn by your side, a comfortable silence enveloped the room. Ellen and Jim seemed at ease in your presence, their initial nervousness replaced by genuine warmth and acceptance. It was a reassuring feeling, knowing that your relationship with Quinn's parents was off to a good start.

"Thank you for coming," you began sincerely, breaking the silence as your hands wrung together. "It means a lot."

Ellen smiled, reaching out to squeeze your hand affectionately. "It was our pleasure, dear," she replied kindly. "We've been looking forward to meeting you and Evie for quite some time."

Jim nodded in agreement, his expression serious yet kind. "Quinn talks about you both all the time," he admitted gruffly. "And it's clear to see why."

You felt a surge of warmth at his words, a sense of validation washing over you. Despite your initial fears and insecurities, it seemed that Quinn's parents genuinely cared about you and Evie. It was a comforting thought, knowing that you had their support and acceptance.

#wineauntie #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #nhl x reader #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes #family is family universe #quinn hughes x single mom!reader

[l0ve-bug-m1les]

Miles Morales x Male reader

When the reader has dyslexia and has trouble with spelling certain words or just forget how to spell the most simplest words ever gets insecure about their learning disability and then falls into a depressive episode (which is just them distancing themselves from other (Miles) for weeks)

First off please let me know if i got some things wrong. I myself don’t have dyslexia, so please correct me on anything. And I hope you’re okay if you’re feeling this way. Sending love and Miles Morales your way! <33 But seriously if you need to talk I’m here, okay? I hope you enjoy!

————

Distence Distance

Miles Morales x Male!Reader

Summary: When it has once again been made apparent spelling isn’t your strong suit, your mind spirals out of your own control.

Warnings: Swearing

Your brow furrowed. Is it tom—orrow? Or tom—morrow? This shouldn’t be this hard. It’s a word. A simple word. But despite your best efforts, you can’t get it. Defeated, you lean over and quietly tap your finger Miles’ arm. He knows about your dyslexia, and helps you whenever things get a little tough. He’s never made fun of you, and has never acted like he was annoyed with you asking him how to spell things. This is quite a common occurrence, but recently, nothing seems to click. It can go from constantly spelling a word wrong, to forgetting how to spell completely. Miles tells you all the time to not worry about it, but what does he know! He doesn’t ask his boyfriend how to spell tomorrow every night!

"Hm? Oh, what’s up?” He looks at you, finishing whatever word he was writing. Your finger drags over to the roadblock on your paper as you mumble a small “Is this right?” Miles takes a look at your paper for a moment before softly shaking his head. “Ah, no, there’s only one m,” your shoulders slump, “but—uh—everything else was right!” His hands wave a little bit, trying to cheer you up. His eyes dart over you, searching for a reaction. A breath escapes your lips as you quietly thank him.

———

A few weeks later, Miles is proofreading your science paper. He’s got a red pen, and is occasionally writing his thoughts or correcting something. That’s to be expected, essays are about trial and error so of course it’s not gonna be perfect on the first try. What you don’t expect, is to find the pages covered with spelling corrections. You can’t even keep up with how many there are on the first page. As you look through, all you can see is what you got wrong. “Replace the i with an e”, “Erosion has one r”, “Con-VEC-tion, there’s a c”, “Don’t forget the—“. You quietly stop reading and get up to grab your things. Your thoughts are cloudy, even as Miles pulls you into a warm embrace to hopefully soothe your anguish. It doesn’t help.

“I gotta go,” you push away, “see you tomorrow..” Your feet lazily carry you out of his dorm room. Miles doesn’t protest. He knows sometimes being practically slapped with how much your disability affects you, doesn’t do you well. So he lets you go, knowing he’d see you tomorrow.

He couldn’t be anymore wrong.

———

Well he wasn’t entirely wrong. He did see you, but you had no intention to see him. Every glance he threw your way went unnoticed. Every time he tried to speak, your headphones went in. He saw your smile wasn’t there, and your usual glow was gone. All of these things worried Miles but he didn’t know what to do. His thoughts were focused around you for the whole day, and how he could help. In the end, he decided it’d be best if he just texted you. Maybe you just didn’t want to speak in person because of yesterday.

Yeah, that’s it. He’ll text you, comfort you, come over to your dorm, and cuddle and comfort you some more. A foolproof plan! Now all that’s left is to get through today.

———

You don’t respond to the first text.

You don’t respond to the second text.

You don’t respond to the third text.

You don’t read any of them. And he knows your read receipts are on.

Miles is frantic now. Where could you have gone? He knows you’d tell him if you were gonna be busy, and he knows he’d catch any signs of you thinking about….No. He wouldn’t let himself think about it. Maybe you just needed some space. It’s normal for a relationship, especially one as new as this. He decided to give it a day or two.

You’d come around eventually.

———

You didn’t come around.

It had been two weeks and Miles still hasn’t heard from you. You were still coming to school, but you arrived before everyone else, and somehow managed to get out before everyone left. If he tried to call you, it’d cut off immediately. If he texted you, it would stay on delivered—read if he was lucky—and if he tried to get into your room, you wouldn’t open the door. Even if your roommate was there, he’d always say: “Oh, [name]? Yeah he’s not here. Sorry.” Then the door would shut. Every day Miles tried. And every day Miles failed.

He’d spend his nights racking his brain for any clue, and reason for you to go a-wall like this. It’s not like you. Whenever something’s troubling you, he’d be the first to hear about it. For the millionth time, he tries to call your phone. And for the millionth time, you pick up. Just like he thought—

Wait what.

Miles sits up and hears quiet sobs on the other end. “H-hello? [Name]? Please answer me.” After a quiet moment you speak up. “Mhm?” Your voice is weak on the other end, but nonetheless, it’s your voice. Miles jumps out of his bed, already putting on a jacket and shoes. “Are you still in the dorms? Where are you?” He opens the window, waving to Ganke who’s woken up. “Please, love.”

“The park. The one we always go to.” Your voice is hoarse and hiccups are breaking through. “Alright. I’ll be there. Wait for me, okay?” He hops out the window and swings through the streets, keeping you on the line. At this point in time, Miles is a great swinger and has almost perfected the art. But tonight, he’s going faster than he’s ever gone before. Faster than his common sense would normally let him go. Even when making an escape, he’s careful to watch his speed just in case. Not tonight though. This is you. He’d risk everything for you.

In a matter of minutes, he’s at the park already looking for you. “[Name]? I’m here,” his eyes dart in every direction, “where exactly are you?” He jogs over to a nearby tree, catching a glimpse of a light from a phone screen. You’re silent for a few more moments as you can tell he’s the cause of those footsteps coming in your direction. So you just keep scrolling on your phone. Miles catches up to you, and before a word can be said, he’s fallen to the ground and pulled you into a hug. Possibly the tightest he’s ever hugged someone. And that’s the crack that sends the dam crumbling.

You break down and sob into his shoulder, clawing the fabric at his sides. The world no longer exists and it’s just you and him. You and the person who cares about you. You and the person who came for you. Miles’ grip tightens around your shoulders as stray tears escape his own eyes. “What happened? Why were you gone for so long?” He asks.

“I was tired of being stupid,” you manage to get out, “tired of being a burden.”

“A burden?!” Miles pulls away and cups your cheeks. “Now who told you that?”

“Don’t you understand, Miles?!” You shout. “I’m probably the dumbest person on this planet!!” He starts to object but you cut him off, “And don’t give me that “Oh but it makes you, you!” Bullshit.” You stand up and begin to pace around. “You can’t possibly wanna deal with me!” Your breath quickens and tears are still falling. “Couldn’t-couldn’t possibly wanna actually spend your life dealing with some who can’t spell for shit. Who’s always asking if he spelled—fucking i don’t know—Wednesday right.” You finally stop and stand in one place, hugging yourself tight. “I fucking hate it.”

Miles makes his way to you and pulls you into another hug. He doesn’t try to convince you otherwise because this isn’t the time. It’s time for you to let it all out, and for him to listen for as long as you need him to. He’s got you back and that’s all he needed. And right now you don’t know, but you needed him just as much if not more.

You two stay in the park and talk for what feels like hours. After two weeks of radio silence you’ve got a lot to say, and best believe your boyfriend is gonna take note of all of it.

🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸 🌸~~🌸

A/n: OMG HOLY SHIT WHY DID THIS TAKE SO LONG OMG. @babyqueen17 HERE YOU GO IT’S DONE!!!

#male reader #miles morales #miles morales x male reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv x male reader #dyslexia #comfort #OMG THANK YOU FOR BEING SO PATIENT—

[youraverageaemondsimp]

DÉPAYSEMENT // vi.

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

warnings: none! but keep in mind this is a 18+ fic. Mdni, reader and aemond bonding more and more slay, things might escalate in the next chapter hehehehehe. not proofread!!

<- prev // next ->

masterlist.

Aemond had visited you once again that night, he talked about what went on in the small council, how they have been spies in the city but cannot locate them. He laid on your lap on the bed as he told you all these things, you caressing his hair, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment.

“I'm planning not to take Aegon, to avoid him being hurt.” he says while sighing contently as you play with his hair strand, “But he insists on coming, saying it is his duty as king.” he sighs once again, but this time in frustration.

“Maybe take him with you, but just protect him, since you'll know what will happen.” you suggest, looking down at him, he stares at you, watching the way your hair curtains your face as you look at him, he hums, “Do you think I am capable..?” he asks weakly.

“You are more than capable Aemond.” you smile at him, he props himself off your lap and onto his elbow and you tilt your head as he stares at your face, eyes flickering to your lips before he sits up straight, making you look at him.

He leans on your shoulder, closing his eyes and basking in the warmth and comfort you provided.

He could never really wrap his finger around it, the way he felt immediately comforted when he was with you, he could be raging, mad with anger or hurt with sadness, yet as soon as you invite him into your arms, all of those emotions fade and he feels light again.

He feels the same as he felt when he first claimed vhagar, when she took him to the skies, when he travelled in the skies, the pale moonlight shining ever so brightly as the wind hit him, he felt so much joy and relief, as if his worries have been washed away.

You had changed him, he thought.

If he had told himself a few moons ago, that a lady would arrive and change his life completely, making him fall deeply in love with her, he would've laughed in his own face.

But here you are.

He felt his heart clench at the bitter realisation that he would be marrying someone else. He felt like screaming, helpless, he was torn.

You gazed upon him ever so gently, the lit candles illuminating the contours of your face and your eyes shining bright with light, you looked so ethereal in that moment, he thought.

And when he realised that he can't marry Floris Baratheon, allies be damned.

He cannot do that, while you're right here in front of him, he knows the moment Floris and he get married, all these moments will end, you had allowed yourself to be close with him in this way because he was yet to be married, but you only ever allowed light kisses, never going further than that, not even allowing him to kiss your lips.

And he knew, that they would all stop.

He would go insane.

He decided he will break off the betrothal after he comes back from Rook's Rest, he cannot bear losing you.

“I am to leave on the morrow.” he says and you look at him confused, “I thought you would be leaving day after tomorrow?” you ask, “Yeah,” him using that word made you smile a little, “But the rebellions are getting worse, so I have to act as soon as possible.” he closes his eye.

“I'll pray for your safe return.” you say with a smile, pushing a strand of stray hair away from his face before leaning to kiss his scar.

He grunted, grabbing you by the back of your neck before shoving his lips against yours, in a small kiss before he pulls back, “I-” he breathes the words stuck in his throat.

“I will take my leave now, nūha rūklon (my flower)” he says and gets up, you just nod, your lips feeling tingly, you fought the urge to pull him into a deeper kiss. You watch him open the chamber doors and leave, your heart twinging at the fact that he cannot spend the night here with you.

Not because anyone would say anything but you both wouldn't have self control.

You sigh, laying down the bed and drifting off to sleep.

It was a fine day, you were taking a walk in the garden again since you loved the scenery and the gardens, Aemond had departed early morning, the loud roar of vhagar waking you up, you rushed to your window to see him fly off, sunfyre next to him, and prayed that everything would be alright, and also for his safe return.

Your feet led you to where the godswood was located, but you were surprised to find someone already standing there, looking at the leaves, it was Alicent Hightower. She had not noticed your presence, too busy gazing at the tree, almost in a trance.

You didn't know what to do, so you turned to leave, however the rustling of your feet caught her attention and she turned to look at you, “Your grace.” you bowed, remembering to greet properly.

She nodded at you, and you stood straight once again, awkward silence befalling between you both, “You are Aemond's lover I believe? It is my first time seeing you.” she begans and you nod awkwardly, “Uh, yes your grace.” you confirm with words, she nods once again.

“I've never seen him like that.” she says and you are confused, “Aemond, whenever a topic about you arises, I've never seen his gaze soften like that.” she explains, “At least, not since he was a child, before the incident.” she recalls with a slight troubled expression on her face.

“At first, I thought you were just his spoil, that every he takes to bed, to satiate his appetite, but- it seems you are more than that to him.” she continues talking, wincing when she has to talk about indecent topics like that.

“I spotted him leaving your chambers last night, and his expression- looked so content, I've never see him that relaxed, he always used to look as if though he was at a war with himself.” she sighs and walks towards you.

“I do not know what you have done, but, he looks happy, and I'm willing to tolerate anything if I can see him like that again.” she says, looking directly at your face, “You love your son a lot.” you say and she nods, “And yet people call you a bad mom.” you blurt out and she looks at you confused, “Oh uhm, nothing, these are just baseless rumours I've heard somewhere, likely sabotaging your reputation.” you explain, hoping not to offend her.

“And what exactly are those?” she raises an eye brow and you swallow, “That you do not love your children at all— but! I now know that they are not true, you have always wanted the best for them, putting yourself in situations to ensure they're happy, even tolerating my presence, regardless of how dishonorable it is, you are a good mother.” you speak out and you watch as tears well up in her eyes.

“Uh! I'm sorry- your grace! If my words have offended you!” you apologize quickly and she shakes her head, before blinking her tears away, “No- it's just that- I've never been told those type of words before.” and for the first time you see her genuinely smile, “thank you, for your kind words.” you felt your heart break when she said that no one had ever told her reassuring words.

“It was difficult, being so young and given a huge responsibility, but I still tried my best, doing what I can, I am aware some paint me out to be a bad mother, and frankly, maybe sometimes I am, but it's not like I'm not trying.” she looks down, a single tear drop falling from her cheek, “I've done nothing but what was expected of me, I sacrificed, performed my duty, and yet sometimes it still isn't enough.”

“I am proud of you, my queen, you have always done your best.” you give her a warm smile, you knew those words were offensive and that someone of your status shouldn't be saying those to a dowager queen, and she knew that too, but in that moment it didn't matter, all her life she had done everything but was never once appreciated.

The damn she was so desperately holding back broke and she sobbed, you didn't know what to do and frankly you were pushing your limits and stepping out of line, but you wanted to comfort her, so you took in her hand in yours and rubbed small circles in a soothing manner, and she relaxed at that.

A few moments pass and she collects herself, “I apologize, you had to witness this.” she says and you let go of her hands, “No your grace, I am sorry if I had said anything offensive.” you say back but she just smiles at you, “Nonsense, you didn't say anything offensive darling.” she says.

“Your grace—” Ser Cole interrupts and looks at you both shocked, “your father is requesting your presence, to discuss the matters of the realm since King Aegon has left for battle.” he finishes, and alicent nods, “It was pleasant being in your company, I guess I can finally understand why my son.” she let's out a small laugh.

“I shall take my leave, I would love to meet you again soon.” she says and you nod, you watch her back as she leaves, wondering what just happened.

You quickly leave the place as well after her and make your way to your chambers, that's when you bump into someone, you wince and step back to find Floris.

She gives you a glare, “Focus on your surroundings when you move, whore.” she mutters and you fight the urge to slap her, she pushes past you and you stumble.

Not wanting to spoil your mood, you quickly go inside your chambers to find someone already in there, “Hello Lady! I've been ordered by Prince Aemond to take your measurements, I entered the room when I got no response, and was about to search for you.” the old lady smiled at you, and you smiled back.

“Sorry, I went out for a walk.” you apologize, “No need to apologize my lady.” she smiles and gestures you to stand in front of her.

She quickly takes your measurements and notes them down on a small parchment paper.

“All done! The dresses will be done in a week's time, do you have any color preferences my lady?” she asks you and you shake your head no.

“Very well, I shall take my leave now.” and she leaves and closes the door after her. You sit there, feeling excited at the thought of gowns that are tailored specifically for you.

Just then you hear a knock, you tell the person to come in and they do, “Greetings my Lady, I am Septa Mylla, I was told by prince aemond to have you taught etiquette.” she smiles kindly and you nod, “Oh yes please! I am, I am not used to it.” you smile at her back.

And soon, your lessons began.

Etiquette was much harder than you thought, you first started off by learning how to greet, what to say as a conversation staring to someone who belongs to the higher status, how to greet based on their titles.

Learning wasn't the issue, putting it into practice was, the septa had told you how important the basics are, and once you are done with them, you would soon be co-learning with helaena on sewing, and other duties that make a lady, you didn't understand why the princess needed classes even to this age, but understood that it might be because that is her only comfort zone.

The week long wait was over, your new dresses arrived and new jewelry, you noticed how most of them were emeralds and sapphires, and only a few being rubies, ‘projection’ is what you thought when you saw them.

The dresses were the same situation as the jewels, mostly green and blue and some black, you noticed how they all looked simple but also elegant at the same time, they were perfect.

You asked the help of the maids to get dressed in them, finally being able to stop wearing this loose off fitting dresses.

You sat down, corrected your posture, back straight, shoulders back, and head lifted, with small hands placed delicately in your lap, and looked at yourself in the mirror, you were shocked at how beautiful you looked, like a princess, a proper lady.

The maids braided each of the strands on the side of your side before pulling them back and joining them, a ribbon tied firmly to keep it all together, they had then given you the jewelry to choose from, and you did.

You gasped when you looked into the mirror again, it didn't look like you at all, you were shocked at your own appearance.

But then your back gave up and you slumped into your natural position.

Yeah, years of sitting hunched over a desk, preparing for exams, writing, doing your work, will not suddenly be fixed in a week's time, but you would try your best.

Suddenly you heard a loud roar from outside and you ran to your window to see two dragons making their way back, and you knew that aemond and aegon had returned, you hoped nothing bad happened to them.

You returned to your seat and waited, but then you heard hurried footsteps outside of your door, you opened it and saw few servants rushing here and there, all in panicked state.

“Whats wrong?” you asked, stopping a servant in front of you, brows furrowed as you felt a pit in your stomach.

“King Aegon has been injured.”

———

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#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond x fem!reader #YAAS;Dépaysement #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond the kinslayer #aemond fic #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic

[fan-fantasies]

Pray for Forgiveness

A/N: this could be read as a part two of Do You Jest or as a stand alone piece. It’s really just porn without much plot 😬

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader

Warnings: slight dub-con because Aemond does a little convincing, fingering, breeding kink, “just the tip”, p in v, surprise creampie

Part One

“Aemond… Aemond you must leave before someone catches us,” you whined from beneath your betrothed.

“Everyone is asleep, my love. No one will catch us,” he reassured you.

His hands continued to roam your body underneath your night dress. This was not the first time you had found yourself in this predicament with Aemond since you alerted him to your engagement. It was as if he had gone feral knowing you were to be solely his. You both pushed your limits without completely tarnishing your virtue.

“You must return to your chambers and we can continue this tomorrow once we are man and wife,” you sighed, his teeth grazing the pulse in your throat.

“I’ve told you time and time again, you already are my wife in my mind,” he chuckled.

His hips were grinding against yours and your resolve was crumbling.

“Aem…I need…”

“What, my love? Tell me what you need,” he said, his hand already inching toward your center.

“Do not tease,” you cried.

“I told you, you have no idea what teasing is,” he chuckled darkly.

“Touch me, love. I need you to touch me here,” you said as you took his hand and guided it over your bare cunt.

“I could just wait until tomorrow,” he said, grazing his fingers over your slick folds. “Surely, if I must wait then so should you.”

You tried to move your hips to get more friction but he wouldn’t allow it. He just smirked at you as you struggled.

“Perhaps…perhaps we can do a little more. Just a bit!” You hurried.

“Is that so?”

“I want to feel you, my love.”

“Feel me how?” He asked, trying his best not to ravage you completely.

“If you’re going to tease me, tease me with your cock.”

Aemond was taken back by your bold words, but he quickly released himself from his pants. He slid his cock between your folds, sending a jolt through your body every time he slid over your clit.

“I cannot wait to worship your body properly every night,” he grunted. “You will make such a sweet little wife for me. I will fill you time and time again until you are full with my heir.”

“Please,” you whimpered quietly.

“Do you like that? You want me to fill you with my seed until you swell with our child?” His eye widened as you nodded and it took all his resolve not to sink his cock into you.

“I need more,” you whined.

His pace quickened and the head of his cock caught on your entrance with each pass. It would be so easy to just…

He sunk the head between your folds, barely breaking past your barrier. You let out a gasp and bucked your hips.

“Aemond…we can’t! Not yet,” you sighed.

“You feel so warm around me, my love. I can tell you were made for me by the gods,” he grunted. His fingers found your clit and rubbed circles, sending sparks flying throughout your body.

“I’m so close!” You warned. Your walls began to flutter around him as your orgasm washed over you. Aemond lost all resolve when he felt you come undone around him and plunged himself into you completely, his seed flooding your depths as your name fell from his lips.

“I could not help myself,” he said as he stilled inside you.

“We will pray for forgiveness,” you said as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“If that is the case, I suppose we should sin some more to make it worth it,” he chuckled. He pulled out of you slightly before fucking his seed back into you.

“Aemond!” You squealed, your walls too sensitive from your first orgasm.

“I plan on keeping you full of me until we are wed in the morrow,” he said.

Aemond was a man true to his word, fucking you over and over until the sun broke the horizon and he snuck from your chambers back to his own.

The two of you were wed before the day was over, happily in front of your families and the kingdom. Aemond couldn’t help but smirk as he watched the way your steps wobbled as you walked down the aisle.

He had prayed for forgiveness before the ceremony, as did you, and he could not wait to finally take you as his wife and no longer have reason to ask for forgiveness as he ravaged your body night after night.

#Aemond x reader smut #Aemond x reader #Aemond Targaryen smut #Aemond Targaryen #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell smut