#strong female oc

[moonstruck-poet]

His Brave Girl

Pairing - Tom Hiddleston x reader!

Summary - You are a NCA Investigator and have an ongoing case to rescue women and children that have been kept captive. The mission of course isn't as easy and can also prove to be life threatening. But with an incredibly supportive husband and a strong team, it doesn't seem all that impossible.

Warnings - blood, fighting, curse words, assault and harassment, mentions of death.

This was a light introduction to the story, things will surely get interesting soon. Hope you like it <33

The elevator dinged as the doors opened and you heaved a sigh before getting in and leaning your back against the wall, eyes closing briefly due to exhaustion.

"Does this thing get slower every day?" You muttered to yourself after getting off and pulled out the keys from your pocket while also holding the stack of papers in one hand.

You walked inside, placing the key in its usual place and dumping the sheets on the dining table with a loud thump.

"A new case then I take it?" Tom entered the living room, a small smile on his face on seeing you as he walked closer.

"Yeah," you couldn't help but smile yourself upon seeing his homely appearance. "Missed you today, love".

"Ditto darling," he whispered and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest and breathing out heavily. "God was it tiring today," his face turned down a fraction before you kissed that frown off, making his lips twitch.

"It's okay," you murmured in his ear and played with the strands of hair on his neck, "I'm so proud of you".

He merely tightened his hold, glad that you had understood him so easily. No wonder he had known you were the one from the minute your relationship bloomed.

"Is it okay if we go out for dinner? I wanna take a walk with you," he pulled back, hands still on your waist as he stared into your eyes.

"Of course, Tom. Let me just get freshened up and we'll leave immediately," you kissed his cheek to quickly go and wash.

After a quick but soothing warm shower, you decided to wear a simple pair of black skinny jeans and a beige button down. Tying your hair in a ponytail and putting your phone in your back pocket you were ready to leave.

"Let's go then," you switched off the lights, him smiling appreciatively at your simple outfit as you two walked out, locking the door and then entwining your hands.

"Why didn't you put on a jacket? It's cold," he said the minute you stepped out in the dark.

"It's fine, Tom," you replied and he took your tangled fingers, placing them in the front pocket of his coat making you laugh. "So what's the current mood? Chinese or Indian?"

"Indian," the two of you said simultaneously and grinned at each other.

"I think you're starting to rub off on me," he chuckled and squeezed your hand. "My spice tolerance is quite high now".

"That's a pro of marrying an Asian, and especially an Indian, my dear," you said happily, swinging your hands like a child.

You entered the cozy Indian restaurant and ordered some starters, wanting a quick bite before moving on to the main course.

"What's the recent case about then, love?" He questioned, adding quite an amount of the spicy green chutney to his dish making you smirk.

"Oh recently we got the news that about 30 females, both girls and women have been abducted right from the streets, probably for slavery. So we gotta track those motherfuckers and play tit for tat," you said and he noticed your jaw clench with anger.

While Tom's heart sank. He was used to hearing such cases every other day, especially since his own wife was a crime investigator but it hurt him every damn time.

"Don't worry," you took his hand in your own, rubbing circles on the back. "We're gonna rescue them, every single one of them".

"I know you will. But still it just hurts, to know that every three days, somewhere in this country a woman dies, all because of violence. How do people even think of committing such sins, such atrocities?! The humanity is dying and it feels like nobody even cares anymore".

You pressed your lips together sympathetically, agreeing with every statement of his and just being so glad that you had such a passionate husband.

"I'm gonna do my best, we're gonna catch all of them and make them suffer," you said firmly and he nodded.

"I'm there with you through every step of the way," he said softly making you simply stare at his beautiful face before smiling widely.

The rest of the dinner was quite peaceful, with only small talks made here and there as you both actually enjoyed the silence.

"Ice cream?" He asked immediately once you stepped out of the restaurant.

"Sure," you laughed at his excited face and wrapped an arm around his torso and him swiftly pulling you close by the shoulders and pressing a kiss on your head.

You two were chatting, about his work, about your work. The past week had been quite busy. What with you attending meetings about the recent case and him shooting endlessly for the Night Manager.

"I really can't wait to see you all decked up in a suit on the big screen," you grinned, all giddy inside while he let out a noise of surprise.

"But you've seen me in a suit numerous times, that too right in front of your own eyes," he raised an eyebrow.

"You don't know the magic you show on the screen, Hiddleston. It makes me go insane," you said, turning a little red making him chuckle as he too blushed.

A sudden shout interrupted his next comment and you two stopped, frowning at each other before finding the source.

"Oh shit," you muttered and his eyes widened at the scene in front of him. There was a man, forcing his way on a young lady who looked no more than 20 years of age.

"Come on sweetheart," the creep said, a sinister smirk on his face as he pressed his forehead against her's, making her thrash uncomfortably.

A furious rage built up inside of you as you saw random citizens watching the scene with interest and not bothering to move a muscle.

And immediately your footsteps quickened as you almost sprinted forwards with Tom hit on your heels.

"Hold this," you pressed your phone into his hand and before he could utter another word, you had pulled your sleeves to your elbows and ripped the man off of the girl.

"Get away from her, asshole," you said, your voice deep and cold and your husband felt himself freeze upon seeing you in action.

"Uh yeah? And who the fuck are you to tell me to get off?" He said coyly. "You're a fiesty one, yeah? I like those type," he said and stepped closer daringly.

Tom had never before felt such violence inside him but he held himself, knowing you had the situation under control. You wouldn't want him to get in trouble, whereas you, you had legal permission.

"And I like catching people like you," you retorted, smirking and within a few seconds you had pinned him on the ground, your knee pressed to his chest as you lounged on him casually.

"You done now? Cuz me and my husband would really like to get some ice cream," your eyes narrowed and he groaned when you pressed down hard.

"You okay?" Tom went to the terrified young lady while also maintaining a respectful distance, knowing she must be scared.

She couldn't fathom anything and was shaking violently while he watched helplessly, not wanting to cross any boundaries at all.

So he resorted to words, "You're safe now, don't worry at all. My wife-" he gestured towards you, halting midway after noticing the criminal's awfully bleeding nose and your deathly expression and grimacing slightly.

"Um are you alright? Did he hurt you anywhere?" He asked again gently once she had calmed down.

"N- No he didn't," she shook her head and fixed her rumpled clothing. "You- You were just in time, thank you so much".

"Hey no, there's nothing to thank about," he smiled and they noticed a police car coming closer.

"There comes your ride," you said and pulled the grunting man to his feet. Your face shining with sweat and slight blood coating your right cheek.

"Goodness love," Tom muttered, wincing at his terrible state but looking hella proud at the same time.

"Aaron," you greeted your friend cheerfully, "A new parcel for you mate. You're welcome," you added when he raised his eyebrows at the assaulter's bloody face.

"Let's get going then, bastard," Aaron gripped him tighter and offered you a full salute and you nodded.

"One last thing," you said and stepped back making the others stare warily except for the officer who didn't bat an eye as you delivered a perfect side kick, breaking the man's jaw.

Aaron laughed as he turned towards Tom who had adorned an expression of shock, "Be careful there, I wouldn't want to get on her bad side. This one can really pack a kick".

"Wouldn't dream of it," your husband chuckled lightly making you roll your eyes as the man was dragged inside the car and off they went.

You finally turned to look at the still shivering but composed girl, "You okay darling?"

She didn't say anything and fell into your arms, her being considerably shorter compared to your rather tall figure. "T- Thank you," tears flowed down her cheeks. "I was so sure I was going to die right there".

"Hey," you said and rubbed her back with your left hand that was not stained with blood. "You're safe now though aren't you? That's all that matters".

She backed off, still sobbing and wiped her tears, looking at you with such gratitude that you yourself could feel your throat burning.

"Do you live close by?" You asked and when she nodded you offered to drive her home, knowing her mental state was sensitive.

"Here's my official card, I'm a NCA Investigator so you're safe with me," she nodded and you were glad to do so, wanting her to feel as secure as possible.

"Come on," Tom guided her softly and opened the back door as she got in and he seated himself in the passenger seat.

It took about five minutes to reach her home and you parked the car in the driveway, both of you getting away and stopping after noticing that Sofia hadn't even opened her door.

"Hey," he knocked on her window and she jumped, snapping out of her thoughts and got off upon noticing that she was home.

He went ahead and ringed the bell and was greeted by a warm middle aged woman who smiled but her expression soon turned shaky after taking in the state of her daughter and she shouted for her husband.

"Oh my darling," the father gasped and took his girl in his arms and she started crying again, emotions flowing out uncontrollably.

The two of you watched in silence, your hearts breaking at the exchange and praying to god for keeping everyone suffering through such horrible experiences safe.

"How can we ever thank you," the old lady walked towards you and took your hand in hers, silent tears running down her cheeks. "You saved my daughter's life. How can I possibly repay-"

"No no don't say such things," Tom interrupted her, embracing the woman and you noticed tears staining his face too making your heart clench.

"But really, thank you, both of you," Sofia's father said and pulled Tom in a hug and shook your hand.

"She's safe, and that's all that matters," you said softly before handing them a card. "This is a helpline number that works 24/7, just give a missed call whenever you feel threatened, though god forbid something would happen again".

The woman stepped closer to you and cupped your cheeks motherly making you stutter, "And you, take care of yourself, look after you wife," she adressed Tom who nodded with a smile. "You're out there putting your life in danger for the sake of others, but be mindful of your own too".

"Y- Yeah, I will," you swallowed the emotions and gave them a professional salute and a low bow before taking their leave.

The walk to the car and then the drive home was passed in complete silence, both understanding that it was a need.

Tom only switched on the dim, yellow lights, bathing the room in a warm glow before turning to look at you properly.

"Love?" He asked softly, standing in front of you and placing his palm on your cheek. "You're okay, aren't you?" His eyes scanned yours, eyebrows drawing in closer in worry.

"Yes, I'm okay. I deal with this pretty much everyday, you know".

"You've hurt yourself," he looked at your badly bruised knuckles as he examined them.

"I handle such things everyday too".

"But that doesn't mean it hurts less," he said simply and you nodded. "Carrying a certain weight every single day does not mean that it's not heavy".

"You're right".

"Oh c'mere," he opened his arms amd you fell into them gratefully, inhaling his familiar scent and trying to take to focus your mind. "You said to me earlier that you were proud of me. But honestly, my work doesn't even come close to yours. It's me who's really damn proud to call this wonderful, strong and brave woman; my wife".

"Yeah?" You looked at him with glistening eyes, pressing your lips together.

"Yes. Not everybody can even fathom the work you're doing. I'm your husband for God's sake amd know all about what you do. And yet you saw it for yourself how terrified I was in that situation".

"You are amazing, the most brilliant woman I've met and goodness am I so, so proud of you, my love," he touched his lips to your forehead tenderly. "I already love you more than anything, but somehow you made me fall even harder".

"I love you too," you whispered and buried yourself right in his embrace.

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Taglist :-

@thedesibitch

@herdetectivetheorist

@chronicallybubbly

#fanfiction #tom hiddleston x wife reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston ff #tom hiddleston fanfiction #female oc #strong female oc #soldier oc #girl power #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston comfort #loki #night manager

[hongchenzhu]

In relation to my last post with Malleus

It's a very basic summary but an expanded timeline of WTF is happening, but also MC is a female and she is an OC that I made.

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Born as the heir to the only Grank Duke Noble family in Briar Valley is a scary thing. But to me, it’s nothing, as friends with the crown prince of the royal family we spent most of our childhood together.

This included my mother bringing me to the place whenever she has to go, taught by the famous Lilia Vanrouge both me and Malleus ended up being the best of friends. The queen of Briar Valley ended up putting an engagement between the two of us, and even after hundreds of years we still stayed connected by writing letters. I had followed my mother around learning the rope of the Grand Duke and Malleus had learned the calm and collected ways as the King.

As more years go by both of our focuses were more toward our role, Lilia ended up adopting a kid and took Sebek under his wing. I and Malleus spent most of our free time with them whether it was teaching them magic or weaponry. Even when one by one they went off to Night Raven College, me and Malleus would constantly send letters to each other talking about his classes and me dissing the Nobles of Briar Valley. Everything is going fine until Yuu showed up.

I remember the letter that Malleus sent to me, talking about a magicless human that comes from another world and managed to stay at NRC. One letter turned to two, three, four… less and less until he stopped sending it. I would always send my letters on time, I wrote about what we always wrote about continuing to winter break when they come home me and Malleus had a conversation.

It was a snowy day, the perfect day for a snowball fight. I was delivering some documents to the Queen when I crossed Malleus and his attendants. “Ophelia!” (yes a female, deal with it) “Greeting crown prince” I did a little bow, Malleus looked at me with stars in his eyes like he has so much to tell about me. “I have so much to tell you, come” Malleus took my hand and dragged me, him running in the front and me meeting his speed at the back. He still has that look in his eyes, of pure joy and excitement while I had a look of shock.

We stopped by an empty hallway when Malleus finally let go of my hand, that same look in his eyes “Ophelia, I had my first friend!”

Your first friend. But what about me? Am I not your friend, a person who stayed by your side when you were young? The person who shared out deepest secrets with? The person who ran away from classes with? “That's great, Crown Prince. But if there is nothing others then I should get back to the estate.”

“No, Ophelia, Yuu is” so Yuu is their name how fitting to their character. This situation repeated every single time when Malleus came across me.

After winter break, I decided to break off the engagement between me and Malleus. The Queen sees me as her own but out of respect she allowed it to happen, and I ended up spending more time within the dukedom. By the time Malleus graduated from Night Raven, I have fully inherited the title of Grand Duke from my mother. Soon Yuu join the royal family as the finance of Malleus, but most of the Nobles disapproved of Malleus's decision as a human a magicless one, not from this world as the next queen would be making the royal family. I didn’t care at all, unlike the other Noble’s selfish decision my decision is for the greater good of the people of Briar Valley.

The next time I meet Malleus is at a banquet that Malleus held to fully announce to the world his new fiance, the next prince consort/ queen etc. I didn’t want to come, but as the head of the family, it is my duty. Reluctantly I had my glass of wine and walked around the banquet but ended up at one of the many balconies, and bumped into Malleus (cliche… I know but that's the point) “Ophelia!” “Greetings, Crown Prince.” I did a curtsy and the two of us stood in silence, a comfortable silence like before. “Ophelia, what happened.” “What do you mean? Crown Prince.” “I mean the relationship between us, when did it get this bad.” A lace of hurt was in his voice “I don’t understand.” I turned my head at looked at him, “wasn’t it you who tared this relationship, you who neglected me, you who proudly stated that Yuu was your first friend.” With each word I spoke, I took one step closer to him he looked at me the corners of my eyes turned red, “Malleus, I tried so much to mend our relationship, I wrote so many letters telling you about my days, my family but you did not reply to a single one of them. You only talked about Yuu. Malleus you weren’t there when I need you, and I need you a lot but you neglected me and broke the string between us. So there is nothing else to say.” Malleus looked at me in such disparity, I walked back to the middle of the railing and leaned against it head tilted down with my glass of wine beside me. The full moonlight shined behind me “Malleus, during a time I need you, I need you so that you could listen to me.” I look up at him tears brimming my eyes “But you left me, in my own pain.” and turned around and left the banquet.

A few years later, Malleus is finally crowned King and Yuu is their queen/prince consort etc. During that time war broke out in the north, I took my army and went to defend the borders.

XXXX year XX month of XX day, Opheila Letum died on the battlefield as a sacrifice for Briari Valley.

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1002 words.

I like making my characters feel pain:)

I should write about Malleus's POV in the last convo

(there's more don't worry)

(I won't let my characters die like that)

#malleus draconia #twst #Twisted wonderland #Malleus x oc #angsty parts #Female OC #strong female OC #lilia vanrouge #silver vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #twst malleus #diasomnia #Yuu #some angst #angsty situation #Malleus angst #I like makeing my character feel pain

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: kissing, angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, humiliation, bullying, chauvinism ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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He had always felt that he lacked something. Part of him claimed that if a dragon had hatched from his egg, things would have been different, however, years later, he recognised that this was not entirely true.

Aegon had a gift for light-hearted conversation, an ironic humour that he lacked. He kept telling him to smile at last, to get his nose out of his books, that he was boring, perpetually serious and withdrawn. He preferred to spend time with Jace and Luke − they were louder and funnier than him, they understood him, they had dragons, they had what he was missing.

They didn't spare unpleasant comments even to their own sister, calling her a hamster, most likely referring to her rosy, firm cheeks and big eyes.

He could see that she was running away from them crying, but he wasn't going to comfort her. She was a girl, her world seemed to him as distant as Essos, completely incomprehensible to him, filled with beautiful gowns, embroidery and music.

The only thing they had in common was books.

They bumped into each other occasionally in the library, and although at first they simply pretended not to see one another, one day she dared to sit next to him as he looked through the family tree of their ancestors.

"What are you doing?" She asked, placing the large volume on the table in front of them with difficulty. He huffed as the dust that rose with her movement reached his nostrils, out of the corner of his eye he noticed that it was The Great History of Aegon the Conqueror.

He did not reply, turning the page of the book, not knowing why he should explain it to her.

He didn't believe her, didn't trust her, didn't want her.

She was a bastard, though she probably didn't know it herself, wallowing in riches like a princess even though she didn't deserve them.

He didn't want her pity, attention or anything else she could give him.

He didn't want to be her second choice, the place she ran to because her brothers were mean to her; he had his own, in his mind very adult, worries and he didn't want to listen to hers.

"Is this a book dedicated to our family history?" She asked softly, leaning out so that she could see what he was reading. She stood up coming closer to him and he pressed his lips together when he smelled her pleasant scent, some intense vanilla oil.

He felt a tightening and burbling in his stomach at the thought of the cake that smelled similar, which his mother had ordered to be baked for his Name Day a few months earlier.

"Ah, our family tree. Where are we?" She asked cheerfully, as if intrigued, and he sighed heavily, reluctantly flipping forward a few pages, tracing their line with his finger, showing her a place at the very end.

He swallowed loudly as he saw how Laenor Velaryon was written in the space where her father was inscribed, trying not to smile with mockery.

She leaned lower, looking at the area he had pointed at and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, her cheek right next to his.

He was surprised at how different they were, apart from the obvious fact that he was a man and she was a woman.

His eyelashes were almost white and translucent and hers were black, long, surrounding her shining eyes, making them seem even bigger to him. His skin was pale, thin as parchment when hers was flushed and full of life, her lips plump and moist, her nose shapely and straight, the contour of her face gentle as his jaw was outlined sharply.

And finally, his hair, the colour of Targaryen's, the white she lacked, her luscious black curls falling gently down her back was visible proof of who her father was.

Although he liked to mock her in spirit, he couldn't say she was ugly or repulsive.

"Would you marry Helaena if our King so commanded?" She asked curiously, glancing sideways at his seated figure. He lifted his gaze to her and sighed heavily, figuring that nothing would happen if he spoke to her for a while.

She was simply bored, just like him, and he didn't get the impression that she had come to entertain herself at his expense.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Yes. I would do my duty as a Prince and son of the King." He said lowly, solemnly, fiddling between his fingers with the page of the book he had just looked at, crossing his legs − even though he was still a child, he was trying to sound and look like a man.

She cocked her head, clearly genuinely intrigued by his statement, a wide smile on her face.

"Are you in love with her?" She asked as if it was obvious, as if she was encouraging him to reveal his little secret to her. He looked at her in disbelief, not knowing what to make of her question. He swallowed loudly, lowering his gaze, feeling his heart pounding fast.

What did it matter?

"Well…she's my sister. Of course I love her." He replied coolly, feeling strange with the words on his tongue, as if there was something inappropriate about them.

"I love Jace too, but I'm not in love with him. There's a difference." She said with a kind of calmness and wisdom that surprised him; she stood beside him looking at him with a gentle expression on her face that consternated him.

Why were they even having this conversation?

Still, her words made him feel a tightness in his throat, a realisation that he understood what she meant, but didn't want to admit it.

The tenderness of falling in love, the poems and the late-night frolicking were the domain of women's imagination, which unfortunately then had to collide with the cruel reality. He was a man, however, and he had no intention of getting into these deep divagations of the weaker sex.

"Don't be naïve. Marriage is not meant to be a pleasure. It is meant to be a sacrifice for the good of the kingdom, to secure its needs." He said dryly, turning back to the page he had been reading earlier, frustrated for some reason by her remark.

She did not speak again, returning to her seat, sinking into reading the gigantic volume dedicated to Aegon the Conqueror.

Although he could have done it in his chamber, he had been coming to the library to read ever since and always met her in the same place. Although they didn't appoint themselves, they both had their assignments until midday and would turn up there to read immediately afterwards, sitting next to each other, exchanging thoughts in passing.

He was afraid that Aegon would see them one day, but fortunately he never ventured into the abyss of the library, few people went there and he felt reasonably safe.

Usually it was she who asked him questions and he was the one who answered her. He felt some sort of empowerment because of this, at last there was someone who appreciated his knowledge and rhetoric, who listened intently to his opinion.

"I would like to be like Rhaenys in the future." She said softly and he looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Rhaenys? What's interesting about her? Visenya could fight with a sword and she rode the largest dragon still alive in this world. If I had a choice, I would marry her." He said without thinking, recognising that it would be wonderful to have by his side a woman who could wield a sword perfectly, with a sharp tongue and temperament, who would be a born warrior like him.

He saw his niece raise an eyebrow in amusement, a sort of childlike joy on her face, her eyes shining.

"Aegon the Conqueror thought otherwise. Out of ten nights, nine he spent with Rhaenys." She said mockingly, as if immensely pleased that she could take the argument out of his hand. He pressed his lips together at her remark and shrugged his shoulders, returning to his reading.

He didn't care what men and women did at night − his mother had told him that he shouldn't bother with it for the time being, and he had decided that there was in fact no need to, until his father called on him one morning.

"− no −" He heard his mother's voice, leaning over the table where the tired King sat, looking at her as if half asleep. "− I do not agree, Viserys, it's not −"

She did not finish, hearing his footsteps and folded her arms in front of her, trying to calm herself, letting out a loud breath. His father nodded at him to come closer, which he did obediently, feeling his heart pounding hard.

His father had never yet called on him on any serious matter.

"I have just been discussing with your mother the importance of our family, of our kingdom remaining united. Although I have agreed that, according to tradition, your sister should marry your brother and not your nephew, I would like you to be the one to bring House Targaryen together anew, and that you should marry the daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor in the future." He said calmly, with each finished sentence tapping his fingers on the table top, as if to add some finality and certainty to his words that he was convinced this was the right thing to do.

"− this is ridiculous − Aemond should secure our kingdom with a marriage to the daughter of one of the lords who can benefit us −" His mother began impatiently, her husband sighed loudly, exhausted.

"And who should receive this honour? The Starks? The Arryns? The Baratheons? No choice would be good, for someone would always feel disadvantaged. Marriage within the family will not outrage anyone on the outside, and will only strengthen what has been strained." He said with conviction; the Queen swallowed hard, shaking her head, finally looking at him as if she was certain he abhorred the idea as much as she did.

"− Aemond, you don't have to agree −" She said in a trembling voice, and he swallowed hard, looking at the stone floor beneath his feet, feeling his heart pounding hard.

Bastard or not, the dragon's blood flowed in her, as it did in him. She didn't despise or mistreat him. She knew what duty and obligation meant.

He reasoned that although he would have preferred to have a female warrior by his side, in fact the idea of marrying her did not reject him. He preferred her to the daughter of some common lord.

In his own way, he even liked her.

He grunted, feeling proud to rise to the occasion and fulfil his father's desire.

"If it is my King's wish, I will marry her, for the sake of the kingdom and our family." He said lowly, looking him straight in the eyes, standing upright, his hands folded in front of him.

He felt a tightening in his throat as his father smiled at him sincerely, for the first and last time in his life.

"So it's decided."

He didn't know how the message had been conveyed to his betrothed, however he could see by the look on her face as she ran into the library, all red with emotion, that someone had made her aware of what had happened and he felt a twist in his stomach.

He was afraid she would make it clear to him that she didn't want him, that she abhorred him, that she had no intention of marrying a man who didn't have a dragon of his own.

As she approached him however her eyes sparkled, she laughed as if she didn't believe it.

"Is it true?" She asked breathing loudly and he swallowed hard, nodding his head, looking at her with wide eyes.

"I'm so happy." She giggled sweetly, warmly, covering her mouth with her hand, as if someone had just given her a wonderful surprise.

He felt some kind of heat in his chest, an affection towards her, a gratitude for her faithfulness, for her devotion, for the fact that she respected him.

He was shocked to think that she would make a good wife.

Aegon laughed at him, not understanding where his lack of objection came from, how he could think that good had happened.

"She doesn't even have an arse or tits." He sneered and he clenched his jaw, wrinkling his brow, looking at him over his shoulder.

"Shut your mouth. Don't speak about her this way." He growled, feeling that her good name was now his as well, and that he had to protect her.

Aegon snorted, shaking his head, patting him on the back piteously.

"My little brother fell in love with Lady Strong?" He asked, forcing himself into a sweet, mocking tone as if he were speaking to a small child, which angered him even more. He slammed his head against his forehead, and he swore in pain, staggering backwards, catching the table, which fell over with him.

"You fucking bastard!" He shouted throwing himself at him, and they began to pound each other with their fists, wrestling with each other on the floor, until, hearing the commotion, a servant girl rushed into his chamber, trying to separate them.

His future wife visited him in his chamber that day, concerned that he had not appeared in the library, raising her eyebrows in simultaneous concern and amusement as she saw him holding an ice cube to his red cheek, a large bruise under his eye.

"What's happened?" She asked as she was accustomed to, without any pleasantries, approaching him sitting in a chair that was, however, too big and his legs did not reach the ground. He just rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders without answering.

He had no intention of revealing what had caused the fight − he wasn't going to appear to her as a prince on a white horse who would worship and adore her, as in all those poems she had surely read.

"Does it hurt a lot?" She asked further, and he shook his head. She sighed heavily, taking a single lemon cake from the pocket of her bottom gown, placing it in front of him.

"I know the Queen only allows you to eat sweets after your weekly visit to the Great Sept, but I stole one for you anyway. As a consolation." She said proudly, and he nodded, lifting his gaze to her, involuntarily feeling grateful.

She cared for him without wanting anything in return.

Since they were betrothed, she hadn't asked him for solitary walks, gifts, confessions of love or anything else a lady of her status might desire from the man she was to marry.

"Thank you." He replied calmly, recognising that he could give her at least that much.

She looked around his chamber and he realised that she was in it for the first time in her life. He stood up, setting the ice sack down in the bowl, walking over to his bookshelf, a gift to him from his mother.

"If you wish, I can lend you some. Just pick which one." He said softly, coming to the conclusion that he wanted to be kind to her, that he wanted her to have no regrets about him becoming her husband, to be proud of it.

She looked at him gratefully and took out a book written by the ancient philosopher, Areon, dissecting human dignity and duty. Something about her choice pleased him, the thought that she wanted to understand him.

She pressed the book to her heart and looked at him, her eyes seemed even bigger to him than usual, her beautiful long eyelashes, hair and plump lips shone in the summer light of the day.

He felt a pleasant tickle in his lower abdomen watching her without saying a word.

"Can I kiss you?" She asked so quietly that for a moment he thought he had overheard himself; he felt his whole body tense up, his pupils dilate in disbelief, his breathing quicken, his fingers involuntarily rubbing against each other in a subconscious nervous reflex.

Oh gods.

Should they be doing this?

Was this the right thing to do?

She was supposed to be his wife. From what he understood, husbands and wives did this, as a kind of union and intimacy.

He swallowed loudly, looking at her lips, thinking they looked pleasantly warm and soft; a shiver went through him at the thought that he could feel them in a moment if he wanted to.

He nodded his head.

He watched her vigilantly, involuntarily breathing through his mouth as she stepped closer to him; he was taller than her and leaned in slightly, wanting to make her task easier.

She surprised him when she suddenly lifted up on her tiptoes and her lips pressed against his in a warm, innocent kiss − he felt like his heart had stopped for a moment, the scent of vanilla filled his lungs, her skin delightfully moist and soft.

It felt so pleasant.

She pulled away from him immediately, all red as he was, breathing hard, as if it took a lot of effort and courage from her too, her eyes looked at him dreamy, as if she was waiting for his reaction, but he was unable to get anything out.

"One more time." It came out of him like a weak whisper, like a plea through which he felt the shame overpowering him.

For the first time, someone wanted him.

She smiled before rising on her toes again, this time placing a hand on his shoulders for balance − she pressed her fleshy, moist lips to his for a longer time and sighed softly as he touched her cheek, wonderfully soft and warm. She pulled away from him and closed her eyes feeling him stroke her skin with his thumb, he pressed his forehead against hers, feeling butterflies in his stomach.

"Will you come to me at night?"

He had nightmares most of the time at night − usually dreams in which he saw anew the pig that his brother and nephews had introduced to him as his dragon, humiliating him as no one had ever done before. He found that her presence calmed him and that perhaps if she slept in the same bed, he would finally get some rest.

He didn't think about the fact that it might have been at least inappropriate in the eyes of others when under the cover of night she snuck into his chamber, slipping under the thick furs beside him, snuggling up to him. In his mind she was already his wife, and wives slept with their husbands − unless it was his parents.

They lay that night looking at each other with their foreheads pressed together, stroking each other's cheeks, their wordless, innocent confession of affection and need for closeness.

"We are going to have seven children." He stated after some thought, as if he had decided that such a number would satisfy him. He wanted his family to be strong and broad, and also seven were gods, so it had symbolic meaning as well.

She blinked, as if something troubled her in his words, furrowing her brow.

"My mother gets very tired during childbirth and then can't get up for a few days. With the rest, how do we do it?" She asked uncertainly and he shrugged his shoulders.

He had never delved into the ins and outs of the pleasures of the flesh too much − Aegon had said that rapprochements with women were very pleasurable and, as he understood, that was why he couldn't pull away from them, to him, however, what he had was enough.

"We'll find out everything when we're older. Do not fret." He said with certainty, stroking her soft, plump cheek with his thumb and she cheered up, he saw the sparkle in her gaze before her lips stole a soft, warm kiss from him again.

He smiled at the thought that he felt that in her eyes he was a man, the head of their future family.

There had been times when he had forgotten who she was, who her father was, her smile, her laugh, her eyes, the sweet kisses she bestowed on him when they were alone made him think it didn't matter anymore.

Years later, he could not believe how wrong he was.

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond kinslayer #prince aemond #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x strong #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond hotd #dark aemond #dark aemond targaryen #dark aemond smut #dark aemond angst #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fanart #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell smut #hotd smut #aemond fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fic

[snowprincesa1]

{seducing the prince }

Jacaerys x F!Lannister!Reader

Summary: Jacaerys knew he would have to marry for duty, he didn’t know his duty would be to you.

Trigger warnings:‼️Coitus and jacaerys a whipped man playing hard to get 😘😘😘😘

Special thanks to my babe/beta reader @luckytoucan 💗💗💗💗

Jacaerys always hated you. Hated how close you were to the Aegon and aemond in his childhood. How you always preferred their company over his. He tried so hard to make you notice him, to make you perhaps feel and inch of what he felt for you. Each time those dreams get shattered by the sound of your laugh with helaena and daeron over him. He didn’t fail to see how Aegon and aemond had indoctrinated you with hatred against him and his brothers. He had to hate you, hate your pride and pettiness, the snobby Lannister attitude you held. He saw you as one of the Queen’s party hoping for Aegon the elder to ascend the throne over his mother and him.

But sure enough that did not happen. Queen Rhaenyra ascended the throne and when jacaerys turned sixteen named his heir to the crown infront of all the lords and ladies of the court. He would forget you, forget how you looked walking through the gardens with his aunt, he would forget the way you danced, the way you haunted his very soul. Jacaerys felt himself grow mad with the constant thoughts of you blurring his mind turning it into a slurry. He needed to get away from you and the clasp you had of him. He needed you gone from his sight and away so he could just lose memory of you entirely. Over the years your cruel teasing did not weaken, often throwing him a flirty smile knowing damn well that nothing on this earth would ever get you to marry a bastard, crown prince or not, you took pleasure in complimenting as to how strong he had grown. Every ‘compliment’ you threw was an insult in disguise.

You can only imagine the shock he felt when his mother there queen Rhaenyra betrothed him to you years later, his stomach flipped upside down, in excitement? Fear? Annoyance? He looked over to you and there you were smiling at him as though you held the upper hand.

“You are not upset by this? Not even in the slightest?” He asked surprised as he grew more frustrated at the fact you seemed so alright with this.

“If i marry you I will be queen someday, surely you are just an addition that comes with the arrangement” you said sipping from your wine, amused by his reactions. Of course, he should have expected this from a Lannister, no matter how pretty they come you cannot change their nature. Always so smug, he wanted to make you feel the way he did. He was so helplessly in love with you but deemed your lannister self incapable of love, too smug to even care to feel a thing. Now as your betrothed he found himself at an advantage..

You on the other side always tried to to revert back to the past and change the way you behaved towards him. You quite literally tried to charm your way into his heart but all your actions seemed to be of no avail. He always shut down every smile with a polite nod, every kind word you said was met with his disdain, he quite literally at this point assumed your whole existence as a mockery towards him. You believed your betrothal would soften his heart up but instead it hardened it. The man could not seem to bear your presence, always growing agitated.

You attempted to win him over with gifts, with kisses which he averted from, with physical affection holding his hand and batting your pretty eyes at him, he showed no reaction to these. You often attempted to flirt with him in high valyrian which he had perfected, instead of appreciating your effort, he took the time to correct your pronunciation and grammatical errors.

You embroidered for him. You attempted to melt his heart by talking of the future where the two of you would have little children. Nothing worked, the most infuriating part was that with all the time you spent swaying him you felt yourself grow more fond of him yourself.

Whenever jacaerys sparred with Nettles, a supposed dragon seed brought to court because of her fierce skills in combat, you felt your heart feel the pang of anger and sadness. He seemed more fond of his uncles over you at this point and you felt absolutely helpless. You wanted to leave the past behind and win his affection. Perhaps that is not what fate wanted for the two of you. You walked away from the sparring ground and jacaerys noticed your absence in his mind.

The whole court was not blind to this tug of war game between the two of you, the jealousy that lingered between other possible lovers the two of you had. His brothers teased him incessantly over how he kept your embroidery in a special box in the cupboard and how he blew up if anyone attempted to touch what you gave him. Jacaerys loved the attempts you made towards him to make up for your past behaviour, he loved every moment of it. Every smile of yours would replay over and over in his mind once it was over. Thoughts of future children with you sent his blood rush to his nether regions, to see you carry his children.

He would often dress up far better than he usually did for sparring lessons in case you’d visit..or rather he’d dress down, discarding his sweaty shirt only if you were in the vicinity.

Nothing bothered Jacaerys more than seeing you with his uncles, at princess helaena’s name day party. His angered expression not was one he attempted to hide. you could feel his glare towards his uncle Daeron, a man of the same age as him. Daeron was mischievous and cheeky who also like everyone enjoyed annoying jacaerys as the two of them always saw each other as rivals even though they shared a wet nurse. Jacaerys could take it no longer dragging you away from dinner, his hand lingered on your arm, holding you firmly but not enough to hurt you.

“How many times must you repeat this song and dance?” He hissed pushing your back into the cold pillar “why can’t you leave me be?” He asked, his hands holding yours as you struggled in his hold, his hands had covered the entirety of your wrist as though it was nothing.

“Can you not see? How blind can you be?” You asked in an angry tone. His grasp did not leave your hands as he suddenly turned you around pressing you against the rough pillar wall pinning your hands to your lower back as you felt his figure croon over you. “Why do the gods have to make me put up with you” you felt his hot breath on your ear and the heat of his body radiating your own. You were glad he could not see your flustered face.

“I’ve only ever tried to get your attention” you voiced out, on hearing your voice he pressed you further into the bricks. You could hear him chuckle.

“So you throw yourself at my uncle?” jacaerys answered his grip tightening around your wrists. He felt conflicted a part of him died to believe your words, that you wanted his attention, the other ran his imagination wild seeing you with Daeron in uncompromising positions. “ah yes, they’re true born and i am..” he trailed off his hands abruptly let your wrist go. “And what do they tell you that it is a pity that your beauty is being wasted on me, a strong prince as you once said” his voice echoed in the empty corridors, he had lost all awareness of his surrounding.

“No! I did not say that! I have played very trick in the book, I have used every tactic anything to get you to like me and the only time you seem to ever even look at me is if I am with another. You think I like parading myself in this tight gown for no reason? Have you even seen my dress or have you been too caught up in your hobby of making me your enemy”

“Yes I have seen the way you look!” He answered angrily. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked at you.

“Then tell me how do I look!” You yelled back you felt tears if frustration bubble at the rims of your eyes, you looked away quickly would this how the entirety of the marriage would go? With you begging for him to notice you? You needed him to notice you at this point, want was no longer sufficient.

“Beautiful” jacaerys said the words he had held in his mouth for so long “So beautiful that if I take one glance it’ll never be enough, if I get one taste that too would not suffice, my greed, my lust is insatiable for you” you knew you had him then, he was yours and yours to keep. Your efforts weren’t in vain.

“You do not hate me then?” You asked surprised as his eyes watched you intently at your every move, what were you planning now..

“Oh make no mistake I do, I’ve always hated you. You’ve always played me as though I was a game. I am not my lady I would have remember that I am the crown prince of the seven kingdoms, my parentage does not matter because I am a Targaryen” he said he turned to leave one more.

You walked towards him and grabbed his face in yours, he admitted that he thought you beautiful and in your eyes that was a victory in itself, this was your chance to seduce your brunette prince as you closed the distance between your faces by planting a gentle kiss on his lips, in hopes it would sway his feelings about you. He gasped against your mouth feeling your lips press against his so perfectly. His hands instantly wrapped around your waist feeling the fabric of your gown crumbling it in his hands, “you shouldn’t hate me, sweet prince” you teased him, habits die hard. As his lips fought your own for dominance, his right hand reaching up to hold your face as he drank you in, the moment your lips parted for a gasp his hot tongue found its way into yours, your mouths in total sync, it was hard to keep your mind sharp now, just as he did you grace into your senses.

That’s how you found yourself with your dress ripped to shreds and your leg propped on his shoulders as he thrusted into you sharply, he made no attempt to stop any time soon, you gasped and moaned and claws at his chest anything to make you feel as though you had control over your betrothed. He drove you mad stopping just when you were about to peak, he denied you of cumming over and over leaving you teary eyed moaning as he brought you such pleasure and pain. If he denied you once more you felt as though you would collapse from the sheer need.

This was your punishment for everything you had ever done to him, every smirk, every mocking word, you felt yourself bend in ways you never thought possible. Jacaerys felt up the fat of your thighs as he leaned in the two of you in to fetch a passion filled kiss. You felt his heavy length press into your sensitive spot and he smirked on seeing you squirm under him as so, release was a mirage so close yet so far. “I should not let you cum, you do not deserve it” he said kissing the leg that sat on his shoulder.

“Tell me how I can win your forgiveness my prince” You moaned out feeling him hitting that one spot that made your head go hazy as you looked to at him with lust drunken eyes.

Jacaerys smirked “there’s nothing you can do” he grunted out letting moans of his escape as his eyes shut from the intensity of the pleasure, perhaps he was being too cruel to you..

“You are right I do not want your forgiveness, I want more— I need you to be mine” you whined out, the pure euphoria of having you in his arms, under him, needing him just like he prayed to the gods you would. His feelings perhaps were not entirely one sided.

“You already have me, do you not see?” He said truthfully holding your hand to his heart “it beats for you lioness” He whispered in your ear and you gasped from the sheer intimacy and lewdness of your hips moving into each other, the soft wet sounds emulating in the wide halls but now all you could focus was on the man before you, his fingers reached down to your nub rubbing a calloused finger over it, the right little circles along with the snapping of his hips made you throw your head back and moan in tears as you felt your release build up for the fourth time since jacaerys had edged you, your eyes filled with tears as you looked to your betrothed with pleasing eyes to let you cum.

Jacaerys could not find it in himself to deny you of your pleasure anymore as he felt you come hard with a shrill cry of his name. All over his tunic. He felt his own release build up seeing your fucked out look with a few more sloppy hard thrusts he gave you all his cum, strings of his seed trailed down your shaky legs. He swore this was the hardest he had orgasmed ever in his life, his breath lost as he plopped himself over you his head resting in the crook of your neck as you rolled his silky brown hair between your fingers.

“You mean it? You love me?” You asked feeling him hum on your neck placing soft kisses on it as the two of you sunk to your feet using the pillar as support as jacaerys peppered you with kisses.

“Lying has never been in my nature” he said “I have loved you since the moment you I laid my eyes on you, princess” he smiled pulling himself from your neck to gaze upon your afterglow, messy lip tint smeared all over your face from the bruising kisses he gave you. You gasped and playfully punched at his side. “Your little tactics to get me to love you were quite entertaining, I admit” he smirked kissing you once more” as the two of you embraced in the cold of the night you felt so warm with his arms over you.

“You’re telling me all my seduction tactics were never necessary?!” You asked bewildered at your betrothed, you saw jacaerys crack up laughing as though if your realisation was the funniest thing to him. He would have to make up for this he knew, he was always ready to turn the tables around and win your forgiveness with his own seduction tactics.

#jacaerys x reader #jacaerys Targaryen x reader #jacaerys strong x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x oc #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x y/n #jacaerys Targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys strong #house of the dragon #asoiaf #hotd #hotd fanfiction #jacaerys fanfic #jacaerys x female oc

[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon I - Ensnared.

Summary:

The Greens have repudiated the sucession and ursurped the Iron Throne. After encounting her uncle Aemond at Storms End, he kindaps Vaelys and takes her too Kings Landing - to be used as leverage against her mother.

Whilst the Greens delight in their good fortune, they fail to realise the depths of Aemond's growing feelings for Vaelys and how her presence will ultimately change the outcome of the Dance of Dragons.

Warning(s): Kidnapping, Language, Threats, Angst, Uncle/Niece Incest, Witnessed Consummation, Smut – Fingering, P in V.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 4280

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

“You’re lucky you didn’t kill her-how could you be so foolish” snapped Alicent.

"You only lost one eye-how could you be so blind?"

“Her dragon attacked Vhagar-“ reasoned Aemond.

“What does it matter? We have Rhaenyra’s eldest bastard in our clutches, she could prove useful,” said Aegon shrugging.

“Once Rhaenyra discovers that we have her daughter, neither she nor Daemon will rest until Vaelys is returned to them-for all we know they could descend from the skies on their dragons at any moment” urged Alicent picking nervously at her nails.

“I doubt it-None of their dragons are a match for Vhagar“ scoffed Aemond.

“Vhagar may indeed be the largest dragon in the world but even she cannot withstand a combined attack from the dragons they have-you would do well to remember that boy” said Otto sternly.

“What do you suggest?” asked Aemond through gritted teeth.

“We have the girl-we should use her to our advantage. Rhaenyra would not dare attack Kings Landing for fear of her daughters safety” explained Otto.

“Where is my niece currently?” asked Aegon.

“She was taken to the Black Cells Your Grace-“ replied Ser Criston.

“I want her brought here at once-” ordered Aegon, the crown of the conqueror slipping down his forehead.

A small group of guards shuffled out of the throne room and returned a little while later with a thoroughly drenched and bleeding Vaelys Targaryen, her wrists bound together in chains.

"Seven above-have mercy on us" muttered Alicent.

“Welcome back to Kings Landing-“ said Aegon smirking.

“I wish I could it’s nice to be back” replied Vaelys wiping her nose on her tattered sleeve.

The sound of the chains clinking echoed around the throne room.

“My deepest sympathies on the loss of your dragon” said Aegon smugly.

“You can shove your sympathy right up your arse” sneered Vaelys.

“I don’t think your language is very ladylike”.

“Like I care what you think-“ quipped Vaelys.

“I would see you bow before your King” demanded Aegon.

"King? I see no King" snarked Vaelys as she lifted her hand to her forehead and began to look around the throne room.

"I said BOW TO YOUR KING" balled Aegon.

“I bow before no King. All I see is a drunken, usurper CUNT” snarled Vaelys spitting on the floor.

“The bastard dares speak to me in such a manner” roared Aegon.

“I will speak however I please, you will not silence me you drunken wastrel-” quipped Vaelys.

“Mayhaps I should teach the bastard some respect-”.

“-I’m more Targaryen than you will ever be” snapped Vaelys.

“The bastard thinks herself more than a King” said Aegon.

“You look down your nose at me yet you’re nothing more than a half breed. Your dragons blood diluted with that of the Hightower, your nothing but a slithering green snake masquerading as a dragon”.

“Says the strong bastard” raged Aegon.

“I’m not some strong bastard who was lucky enough to favour my mother’s colouring, I am the daughter of the rogue prince himself, Daemon Targaryen” confessed Vaelys.

“WHAT?” exclaimed Alicent.

“Oh please-like you didn’t suspect such a thing” snarked Vaelys.

“How?” asked Alicent.

“On my mother’s wedding night to Ser Laenor-she lay with Daemon” replied Vaelys.

“So, you openly admit that your mother betrayed her marriage to Ser Laenor?” asked Otto.

“Can it be considered betrayal if he gave his permission?” retorted Vaelys.

“He-what?”

“Oh, come on-you know that Laenor only sought the attention of his squires, he couldn’t consummate the marriage, especially when he’d just witnessed the brutal and unnecessary murder of his beloved Joffrey at the hands of your own sworn protector-so of course Daemon was only too happy to volunteer his services” said Vaelys glaring at Ser Criston who narrowed his eyes at her.

“-And your mother was only too happy to accept” snapped Alicent.

“Surely your aware of first night rights-“

“-And what excuse can be conjured for existence of your brothers?” asked Alicent.

“-What do you intend to do with the girl Your Grace?” asked Otto, his patience wearing thin.

“We could always offer her to any of the noble lords who bend the knee and pledge their loyalty to me” mused Aegon, ignoring the look of horror plastered across the faces of his mother and grandsire.

Aemond took a deep breath and folded his arms behind his back, his gaze never leaving his brother.

“We could even leave her chained up in the throne room and they could take turns with her. How many cocks do you think she could she take before she breaks?” said Aegon.

“Your Grace-she is still a Princess of the realm” warned Otto.

“Wed her to me” offered Aemond.

“-And why would I allow such a thing to take place?” asked Aegon.

“I brought her here. She belongs to me-” replied Aemond.

“-And that’s enough of a reason?”

“If not, then mayhaps the prevention of her marriage to Cregan Stark is” said Aemond firmly.

“Stark?” asked Otto.

“Borros Baratheon inquired about her hand in marriage-he seemed interested in taking her to wife, boldly declaring that she would give him many sons, but she refused. It seems her bastard brother has flown to Winterfell and delivered terms in exchange for his support” said Aemond.

“We cannot allow such a match-if Stark honours his father’s oath and bends the knee the rest of the North will follow, we must intervene if we are too secure-“ urged Otto.

“-There isn’t a Stark alive that’s ever broken an oath-you’ve already lost the North and my grandmother was an Arryn, the Eyrie won’t turn against their kin-” said Vaelys smirking.

“-But we still have you” declared Aegon boldly.

“Your Grace-“ questioned Otto.

“-As you were saying brother-you believe that she belongs to you?” mused Aegon.

“There is a debt to be paid and I will take her as payment for the eye her bastard brother carved from my skull”.

“Her maiden head in exchange for your eye? Assuming of course that she is still a maid, after all she is the daughter of a whore” quipped Aegon smirking.

"The only whore I see is YOU" yelled Vaelys.

"Hold your tongue-or I will have it removed" snarled Aegon.

Vaelys was about to answer back, but then she caught Aemond's eye, and he discreetly shook his head.

Deciding it was better to keep quiet, Vaelys lowered her gaze to the floor.

“I will have her as my wife and I will take what is mine” said Aemond, his voice firm and unwavering.

“And when her maidens blood stains your cock. What then?” asked Aegon.

“She will still have her uses” replied Aemond firmly.

“Very well brother. You may take her to wife” said Aegon smirking at the look on Vaelys’ face.

“Your Grace, Aemond has already agreed to marry one of Borros Baratheon’s daughters, he pledged his support to you based on that promise” urged Alicent.

“Offer Daeron’s hand instead. I don’t really think it matters which Prince marries his daughter” replied Aegon shrugging.

“But Your Grace-“ said Alicent.

“-My brother’s debt will be paid” said Aegon firmly.

Just as Alicent was about to respond, her father shook his head and she sighed despondently, Aegon had clearly made his mind up and now her favoured son would be stuck with a bastard for a bride instead of someone more worthy of his station.

“If some of the lords who have declared for Rhaenyra see that her daughter is wed to Aemond, we may be able to sway them to our side��� said Otto thoughtfully.

“Exactly-now take your bastard Aemond and see that she is made presentable-you will wed on the morrow, mother will make the arrangements” ordered Aegon.

“Your Grace” muttered Alicent through gritted teeth.

“YOU-“ snapped Vaelys taking a step forward only to be stopped by Aemond.

“Ser Arryk-Escort my betrothed to her temporary chambers, ensure that she is bathed, and that cut is taken care of” said Aemond sternly.

“Yes, my Prince” replied Ser Arryk.

“You may also want to have the chains removed as well?” suggested Otto.

“Hmm” rasped Aemond.

“Cunt” snapped Vaelys.

“Careful niece-come tomorrow, my brother will have other uses for that mouth of yours” said Aegon smirking.

“Then he will find himself without his cock” replied Vaelys as Ser Arryk lead her out of the throne room.

After she had been thoroughly bathed, Vaelys was sat on a chair under the watchful eye of Ser Arryk waiting for Maester Orwyle to arrive.

“Do you not wish to enquire about the wellbeing of your brother?” asked Vaelys as she watched the maids busying themselves with tidying up.

“I’m sure my brother is fine” muttered Arryk solemnly, his eyes fixed upon the door.

“You know it amazes me how different twins can be. I mean there’s Erryk who is loyal, and then there’s you-“ said Vaelys.

“-My brother is a traitor” said Arryk.

“Your brother swore towards the rightful Queen-he is a man of honour, unlike some I could mention” said Vaelys, a soft knock at the door diverting her attention away from her guard.

“Prince Aemond” said Arryk bowing slightly.

“You can wait outside-“

Ser Arryk nodded his head slightly and then shuffled out of the room, only to come to a standstill just beyond the threshold of the door.

“He is to be your personal guard-he will remain stationed outside, so before you get any ideas, remember he’s there” said Aemond as he waved his hand, and a nervous looking maid placed a stool in front of Vaelys.

“What are you doing?”

“The cut needs stitching, I’ve stitched plenty of my own wounds before, or would you rather have the Maester do it, after all he did such a wonderful job on my eye” said Aemond.

“I thought it was Maester Selkin who stitched your eye?“ asked Vaelys.

“On Driftmark-but I’ve had other procedures since then” replied Aemond.

“Other procedures?”

“Removal of my eyelids” said Aemond as he threaded the needle and raised his hand to Vaelys who flinched away nervously.

“I-I-“ stuttered Vaelys.

“If I was going to hurt you, then I would have done it before I brought you to Kings Landing”.

“But you did hurt me-you killed my dragon” whispered Vaelys softly as she leaned forward an allowed Aemond to begin stitching the cut above her eye.

“I’m sorry about Archonei-” whispered Aemond.

“-Don’t say her name” snapped Vaelys.

“It was not my intent to kill her”.

“You chased after us on that old bitch dragon of yours, what did you think was going to happen?” quipped Vaelys, grimacing as Aemond pulled the thread through her skin.

“Vhagar was defending me after your dragon attacked her”.

“Archonei was frightened, she was much smaller than Vhagar, how would you feel having that thing chasing after you” said Vaelys.

“If you didn’t insult me in the first place then I wouldn’t have chased after you”.

“I heard you-shouting your commands, but she wouldn’t listen. Does your King know that you can’t control your dragon?” asked Vaelys flinching again as the needle pierced her skin.

“It was a momentary lapse in-“

“-Your mouldy rock is obviously getting senile in her old age” retorted Vaelys.

Aemond paused for a moment, debating with himself on whether or not he would engage Vaelys in the argument she was intent on starting, but after a few moments he decided against it.

“We are to marry on the morrow-I suggest you rest well” muttered Aemond as he tied the thread and snipped it.

“If you think that I’d willingly marry you dragon slayer, then your even stupider than you look”.

“The alternative is much worse-“ muttered Aemond raising from the stool.

Vaelys looked at Aemond and took a deep breath, she knew Aegon’s threat of offering her to any Lords who bent the knee was not an empty one and despite her anger towards Aemond for what he had done, he was clearly the lesser of two evils.

She would rather be his wife, than suffer the alternative. Her fathers words echoed in her mind ‘Seize your opportunity and do what you must in order to survive’.

“Fine. I will marry you” snapped Vaelys.

“Get some rest Princess. Tomorrow you will be my wife” replied Aemond as he turned on his heel and left the room.

Aemond was stood beside the high septon. He was elegantly dressed, his black tunic decorated with silver dragons and his Targaryen cloak tied loosely around his shoulders. His long hair tied back in its usual half up, half down style.

The horns signalled the beginning of the ceremony and begrudgingly Vaelys took Aegon’s arm.

“You look beautiful. Green suits you” said Aegon smugly.

“Eat shit-” muttered Vaelys.

“Thank you for escorting the bride Your Grace. If you would be so kind as to wait for the Princess to remove her maiden cloak” said the Septon.

Vaelys undid the ties of her maiden cloak and handed it to Aegon who nodded respectfully to the Septon and took his seat next to Alicent and Helaena.

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection” said the Septon loudly.

Aemond removed the cloak bearing the colours of house Targaryen and draped it around Vaelys’ shoulders.

Aemond then took Vaelys’ hand and smiled as the Septon tied their hands together by a ribbon.

“In the sight of the seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity. Now you may look upon one another and say these vows together” exclaimed the Septon.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his and he is mine from this day until the end of my days” said Vaelys, her lip wobbling slightly.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers and she is mine from this day until the end of my days” declared Aemond loudly.

“The vows have been spoken. You may kiss your bride”.

Aemond hesitated for a moment before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Vaelys’ lips.

“ñuhon” whispered Aemond as he pulled away (Mine).

The celebration after their wedding was in full swing, how Alicent had managed to pull this off in the limited time she had, Vaelys didn’t want to know.

King Aegon was sat at the head of the table, with a smiling Alicent and Otto by his side.

Vaelys sat next to Aemond near the head of the table, plastering on a smile as Lords and ladies loyal to Aegon came up to wish them well. Tyland Lannister, and one that seemed to linger, Jasper Wylde.

"Many good wishes too you Prince Aemond and Princess Vaelys. A match many shall pray for a fruitful outcome. I must admit Princess, the tales of your great beauty have not been exaggerated".

Vaelys shifted uncomfortably in her seat and Aemond scowled.

"Thank you," nodded Vaelys politely. 

All through the feast and dancing, Vaelys couldn’t help but think about her mother.

Did her mother know that she was in Kings Landing? Or had the broken pieces of Archonei been discovered and it was assumed that she had died alongside her dragon?

Her mother was still recovering from the pain and loss of her last pregnancy when she had agreed to let Vaelys fly to Storms End, how cruel would it be to let a mother already grieving for the loss of one daughter, believe her other was also dead.

“Valzȳrys” muttered Vaelys (Husband).

“Is everything ok?” asked Aemond.

“Issa muñā, does she know that I’m here?” (My mother).

“I don’t know-I’ll asked my grandsire” replied Aemond as he rose from his seat and made his way towards his grandsire who was in conversation with Larys Strong.

“Does Rhaenyra know that her daughter is here?” asked Aemond.

“The Princess has not yet been informed of-“ said Otto.

“-She’ll know when she receives the sheets stained with her daughter’s maiden’s blood” interrupted Aegon.

“Perhaps a letter would be sufficient-” mused Aemond.

“No-our whore sister will be sent proof that her daughter has been wedded and bedded. Speaking of which I must inform you brother that the consummation will need to be witnessed, given our older sisters past behaviours”.

“Your Grace-“ exclaimed Aemond.

“We cannot have Rhaenyra contesting the marriage-“ urged Larys.

“Lord Strong is right-“ said Otto.

As much as he could try an argue against it, Aemond knew couldn’t. Rhaenyra would indeed challenge the validity of her daughters marriage, and the witnesses were a preventative measure.

“I request the minimum number of witnesses and sheer curtains-“

“Arrangements will be made,” said Otto.

“Your no fun” muttered Aegon tipping a large gulp of wine.

“I do not wish for my wife to be displayed in such a manner” snapped Aemond.

“Careful brother-anyone would think that you care for the bastard” snarked Aegon.

“She is my wife-“ said Aemond.

“-And that little crush of yours has nothing to do with it?”

“I don’t know what your talking about” snarled Aemond.

“I saw that cuntstruck look on your face when our sister brought her brood of bastards to the Red Keep defending Jace’s claim to Driftmark-Couldn’t keep your eye off our niece, although I must say I don’t blame you. She has grown rather beautiful. Perhaps I’ll take a leaf out of our uncles book and insist on first night rights” said Aegon.

“You have no right” replied Aemond, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I am the King-I have every right, but what sort of brother would I be if I deprived you of the chance to deflower a maid-it’s not as if the last woman you bedded was one” laughed Aegon.

“Don’t ever mention that again” ordered Aemond as he turned on his heel and returned to Vaelys who was now huddled with Helaena.

“I couldn’t talk him out of it-” said Aemond.

“At least you tried” muttered Vaelys, her shoulders slumping.

“Come good sister-I shall escort you to your new chambers” whispered Helaena.

“I’ll distract Aegon and the others” muttered Aemond.

“I know it might not make sense, but it was necessary for Aemond to bring you here”.

“I’m sure it was-“ muttered Vaelys as she watched Aemond bump into his brother, causing the cup of wine he was holding to spill all over the floor.

“You will see in time, and don’t worry you will fly again,” said Helaena.

“I will?” asked Vaelys as she followed Helaena out of the throne room.

“A dragon across the sea, a bronze heart waiting to be free,” said Helaena.

“What?” exclaimed Vaelys.

“A dragon across the sea, a bronze heart waiting to be free,” repeated Helaena as she came to a stop in the middle of the corridor.

“These are not my chambers” mused Vaelys.

“No-there Aemonds. You are to share, it’s important” muttered Helaena as she pushed open the door, took Vaelys by the hand and pulled her inside.

“I’m scared” whimpered Vaelys.

“Aemond will take care of you-he’s not the monster you think he is,” said Helaena.

“He brought me here”.

“I was necessary-a dragon across the sea, a bronze heart waiting to be free. The dragons begin to dance, blood will be shed, begins when two are wed,” said Helaena.

“You keep saying that but-“ uttered Vaelys as the door swung open and Aemond walked in, closely followed by Aegon, Otto, Larys Strong, Tyland Lannister and Maester Orwyle.

“It’s time-“ declared Aegon brightly.

“Will you stay?” asked Vaelys.

“Yes” replied Helaena softly as she stood next to Aegon who huffed impatiently at Aemond who was stood silently observing Vaelys.

“Would you help me with the gown, husband?” asked Vaelys as she turned from him and swept her hair away from her back to reveal a great number of fiddly buttons and laces.

“Of course,” replied Aemond as he reached forward and began undoing his wife’s wedding gown.

Soon she was stood in nothing but a thin shift and Aemond felt his heart quicken in his chest at the sight of her nipples through the sheer fabric.

He was no maid, Aegon had seen to that when he’d dragged him to the street of silk on his thirteenth name day. But Vaelys was no paid whore, that would whisper sweet lies into his ear and make him feel dirty.

She was his wife, and he would treat her as such.

Aemond began pulling off his own clothes as Vaelys climbed into the bed. Her cheeks tinged pink as she glanced nervously at the witnesses who were silent.

“Focus on me. Not them” said Aemond as he finished undressing himself and climbed into the bed.

Vaelys nodded nervously as Otto moved forward and closed the sheer curtains, they didn’t provide much privacy, but it was better than nothing.

“I-I’m ready husband” whispered Vaelys as she pulled off her shift and discarded it on the floor.

Vaelys laid down and smiled shyly as Aemond gazed at her naked body.

“Gevie” whispered Aemond as he slowly reached out and ran his fingers over Vaelys’ breasts (Beautiful).

Goosebumps erupted over Vaelys’ skin as Aemonds hand began to move lower.

“I-I need to prepare you” whispered Aemond.

“P-prepare me?” whispered Vaelys.

“I don’t want to hurt you” replied Aemond.

Vaelys gasped when she felt Aemond’s fingers rubbing her folds.

“Aemond” exclaimed Vaelys as her husband slipped a finger inside her.

Aemond buried his face in his wife’s neck as he began peppering kisses along her smooth skin as he added another finger to prepare her as best, he could.

But in the back of his mind, he was still aware of the witnesses standing at the foot of the bed.

“Come on. Get on with it” groused Aegon.

Aemond removed his fingers and then laid between his wife’s open legs, supporting his weight on his left arm as he reached down and took his hard cock in his hand and placed the tip of it against his wife’s slick entrance.

Vaelys shut her eyes tight and took a deep breath as Aemond sheathed himself within her.

“Listen to her whimpering, who would have thought a whore’s daughter would be so cock shy” laughed Aegon.

“Don’t listen to them-I won’t let them see you” muttered Aemond softly.

Vaelys couldn’t stifle the whimper of pain as she felt Aemond’s cock press further into her.

“That’s it Aemond fuck her harder” exclaimed Aegon gleefully.

“Your doing so well-” muttered Aemond trying to control himself.

Vaelys’ cunny choked his cock so tight that he needed a few seconds to adjust, making him terribly aware that he was not going to last for too long.

Aemond’s cock twitched and throbbed with need, and he released a shuddered breath while Vaelys sighed in relief. 

“The pain will ease,” rasped Aemond, waiting for his wife to adjust.

After a few moments, Vaelys nodded slowly her hands grasping the white sheets tightly as Aemond pulled back and thrust forward again.

Aemond rested his head in the crook of Vaelys’ neck as he thrusts faster, his quiet moans muffled against her skin.

“Your perfect-“ whispered Aemond.

Feeling a spark of pleasure Vaelys let go of the sheets and slowly placed her hands on Aemond’s back, holding him close as his movements become more erratic.

Aemond pushed into the hilt for one last time and groaned loudly as his cock throbbed and he spilled his seed.

“A-Are you ok?”  Aemond as he gently pulled his softened cock from his wife.

Vaelys nodded, her fingers digging into the fabric of the bed.

Aemond pulled the bedcovers over Vaelys and then moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his eye drawn to the red ring of Vaera’s maidens blood that now stained his cock.

“Are you well Princess. Do you need me to examine you?” asked Maester Orwyle.

“No, I’m-“ muttered Vaelys.

“-The marriage has been consummated. Get out” snapped Aemond.

“The sheets brother” said Aegon.

Aemond slowly ran a hand over his face before he jumped off the bed, his eye moving to Vaelys who clutched the bedcovers too her chest and slowly lifted her body from the bed allowing him to pull the sheet from under her.

“There-“ snarled Aemond as he threw the sheet towards Aegon.

“I see she was a maid after all” quipped Aegon as he examined the blood stained sheet.

“This will do nicely, I’ll make sure to send it to our sister on the morrow, confirming that her precious heir has been wedded and bedded” Aegon as he quickly rolled up the bloodstained sheet.

“You’ve got what you wanted now get out” retorted Aemond.

There was a brief shuffling off feet, before the door to their chambers opened and closed, leaving the two of them alone.

“Are you ok?” asked Aemond as he climbed back into the bed.

“I’m fine” whispered Vaelys.

“We should get some sleep-it’s been a long day” said Aemond as he laid down,

“W-Will you hold me. Please?” asked Vaelys her voice small and barely audible, the tears running down her face.

Aemond slowly nodded and reached towards Vaelys pulling her trembling body against his.

It took far longer than Aemond would have liked for his wife’s trembling to cease, but eventually she fell asleep with her face pressed against his chest.

After discarding his eyepatch on the nightstand, Aemond gazed at Vaelys for seemed like hours.

He could still see the faint tracks of dried tears on her face, and with a shaking hand he reached out and gently stroked her cheek.

“I’m sorry” whispered Aemond as he pulled her closer and closed his eye.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond #aemond smut #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #hotd smut #aegon ii targaryen #otto hightower #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #larys strong

[burynr08]

Cassiopeia Black has a bit of a crush on her Potions professor.

Severus Snape x OC

#severus snape #professor snape #snape community #snape fandom #snape love #pro snape #snape fanfiction #severus x oc #strong female protagonist #teacher x student #snape content #pro severus snape #snape x oc #severus snape x reader #snape x y/n #snape x you #ai artwork #professor severus snape #prosnape #snape smut #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape smut #harry potter fanfiction #severus #potions master #strong female lead #severus snape art #severus snape fandom #snape fic #snape defense

[emilykaldwen]

Morning

@tremendouswolfsaladranch sent me a prompt for Aegon and Abby lazy married morning. I HAVE FINALLY DELIVERED.

Title: Morning Rating: Explicit (just some satisfying morning sex with an appetizer of eating your sexy wife out as she deserves) Pairing: Aegon x wife!OC (Abrogail Strong) Kinks: we got breeding kink! Word Count: 945

This takes place in the Maiden Verse! Unbeta'd cause I just woke up and we're here for just some morning sex.

Happy Sexy Sunday!

It’s barely light out, the morning light watery as the dark clouds roll in with another promise of rainy weather. The fire has been stoked, blazing warmer and brighter in the large grate, which explains why she hadn’t noticed that the nightshirt she wore, one of Aegon’s, was pushed up half over her breasts so the smooth expanse of her belly was exposed. Her husband’s silver head hovers over her lower stomach and she whimpers when his warm mouth presses gentle, sucking kisses against her skin. Her muscles spasm, a shiver tearing through her and her thighs fall open even more. His chuckle is warm, damp breath sending goosebumps blossoming along her skin with the heated blush.

“Behave,” he warns her, knuckles dragging through where she needs him most, the sound obscene with how aroused she is. He must have been coaxing her awake for Abby to feel this wet already. A yelp escapes her, and a moan follows when Aegon begins to nip his way lower, sharp teeth catching along the delicate skin and nosing into the thatch of red at the apex of her thighs.

“What happens if I don’t?” she sighs, one hand reaching down to sleepily card her fingers through his hair, the other reaching up to fondle her own breast. Aegon’s responding purr is deeper than what he should be allowed to make, those moments of beast bond thrumming through his frame as he fits his shoulders between her thighs. 

“As your lord husband, I’ll have to discipline you. Abrogail, I’m sure I’ve made that clear before.” She catches the look in his lilac eyes when he rests his chin upon her cunt, his face fuzzy with stubble that excites her. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re asking for it.”

She moans and shakes her head, biting at her lower lip as she pinches and toys with her right nipple, pretending it’s his thick fingers, his nail scraping along the sensitive bud. “Promise I’m not,” she assures. “I’ve been so very good.”

“Have you-” and Abby cries out, hips arching as Aegon’s tongue darts out to circle the sensitive bud of nerves just as two fingers slip inside, stretching her. Whatever else Aegon said was lost as the buzzing fills her, the sparkle of need and want thrumming through her veins. Fingers tighten in Aegon’s hair, and she feels and hears his moan vibrating through her as her fits his mouth and fucks her slowly, languid and lazy, as if they have all the time in the world.

She had promised him a lie in, and it seemed he’d taken it upon himself to make sure they had it. Fingers curl inside of her just as she curls her own into his hair, and he rubs at the spot that makes her cry and shake, that makes her toes curl against him and feel like her world is shattering around her. The rush of slick he pulls from her is a mess on the bed and over his face and Aegon’s sounds as he shoves his tongue into her to lick up the mess sends her shaking, mouth wet and body hot and writhing against the bed. He pushes her thighs further apart and blearily, Abby looks up at him, licking her lips as he rises.

“Im-impatient,” she manages out and her words are cut off at the feel of his cock pressing inside her. There’s no teasing, no dragging through her, dipping in and out until he has her begging. Aegon’s impatient, slipping inside of her with little resistance and she gasps at the feel of him, the stretch because even after all this time, he takes her by surprise, she’s never prepared for him. 

Her favorite, though, is when he crawls up her body, hips rolling into her, to blanket her. She whimpers, “I missed you,” and licks his mouth, licks the essence of her from the fair blonde stubble along his chin, giggles as he growls and claims her mouth as he claims the rest of her. Abby drifts in and out of understanding, she thinks she peaks again, arms wrapped around him as he buries his face into her neck, telling her his secrets, telling her he loves her, telling her how he’s going to fill her up, get her full, get a babe to catch this time. How he’ll never stop fucking her, even as her belly grows big, because the thought of it makes him want her even more.

She peaks a third time before he spills hot inside her, bodies fitted like they were made for each other, the sound of his name and the sound of hers swallowed in their kiss. Her husband is ridiculous, and self-important, he is selfish and not always attentive, but his love for her? His love, she never doubts, his care for her, she does not doubt. 

As Aegon’s weight rests on her, her legs wrapped around his hips, keeping her filled, keeping his seed inside so it’ll take, so it will finally take, Abby nuzzles into him and he chuckles softly against her neck.

“Good morning, husband,” she whispers against his damp cheek, sleepy and happy and warm and safe.

“Good morning, wife,” he returns, his voice shy, his cheeks flushed, and his lilac eyes bright and warm when she looks at him.

“You make me happy.” Her chest is warm, and his smile is so bright it might crack his face, like the way the sun cracked open and the dragons came.

Hopefully it’ll take this time. Hopefully their child will have a smile as bright as his. Her bright star.

#hotd fic #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #aegon ii fic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x oc #aegon x fem!oc #aegon x original character #aegon ii targaryen x original female character #aegon targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen x fem!oc #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #my fics #oc: abrogail strong #aegon x abby #otp: do not go far from me

[the-whispers-of-death]

Light Work

*The 141 & Ladder all chilling in the recreational room* Maintenance man who is trying to change a lightbulb: *struggling to carry a ladder* Ladder, getting up: Oh, here let me help you. *hooks her arm under one of the ladder rungs and lifts it with that one arm* Ladder, casually holding the ladder: Where do you want this? Maintenance man, enamored: Uh, just over there. *points to where the light fixture that needs to be fixed is* Ladder: *nods and carries the ladder to where it needs to go* Soap: So, she wasn't joking when she said she could lift a ladder with one hand. Ghost: Between her and Stone, I feel weak. Gaz: I've never wanted to befriend someone so much before I met Ladder. Price: Do you think she'd tell us how much she lifts at the gym?

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #task force 141 #task force 141 oc #call of duty oc #cod oc #task force 141 oc: ladder #call of duty oc: ladder #cod oc: ladder #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #desi!oc #desi oc #female!oc #female oc #cod original character #call of duty original character #she might be short but she is strong #Stone and Ladder being burly is my roman empire #:)

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Sarah and Simon’s wedding. Any hints on how it went for them?

...Well! 🫦 *draws breath*

First, they frolic around Florence all cute and happy before the ceremony. Simon takes her to galleries -> somehow the idea of this giant soldier listening to his enthusiastic, sparkly-eyed wife-to-be giving him a monologue about a painting like Birth of Venus��does things to me. He def. gets a hard-on from that, and Sarah gets all flustered when she notices. ("We're in a gallery, for god's sake" or "I should've known you can't behave yourself" while her eyes are just wide and shining from love)

As for the wedding: nothing too fancy, nothing too luxurious or overly elegant. Instead, crazy romantic – nothing is official and there will be no legal documents on any marriage taking place, but Simon would do his all to make the day memorable for the both of them. He loves to pamper and spoil Sarah, even if she gets shy about it (she loves it actually). So good food and a beautiful dress are a must, and the venue has to be something Sarah would love – something historical, from the romantic period, perhaps. Some old villa with lemon trees or magnolias, a wild garden that is overwhelming to the senses, nothing too pruned or symmetrical. They spend their wedding night there, too, sleep late in the morning and have a hedonistic 2-hour brunch in the garden.

I don't know if even Soap would be present because we're talking about a secret elopement here. Simon would have a hard time asking John to be his best man, and Sarah has yet to see him too many times, so it might be just the two of them + someone suitable to conduct the ceremony. After all, the marriage is mainly a powerful symbolic gesture from Simon that he is dedicated to Sarah and wants to grow old with her (I see them planting those apple trees in Simon's "hideout" later that summer: one for her and one for him).

But what would be even more monumental than the actual wedding is the honeymoon that follows.

Simon takes weeks, almost a month off his work to explore Italy and especially the seaside together. There is an overdose of art, culture, good food and wine. Sarah tries to teach Simon to appreciate a good Amarone or Valpolicella and he's just like I'd rather not but gives in like he always does (*sigh* "Let's try it then, dove"). There's lots of swimming and hikes in the woodlands and just all kinds of fun under the sun, and all around them, the nature is blooming. 

Sometimes they are too tired to even make love because they've been too busy going around yet another bend or a corner to see if there is a great view or a better restaurant or a hidden beach empty of people. But he brings her breakfast in bed, and it usually ends in slow, passionate sex before they venture out again. Or then there's the occasional quickie in the shower just before dinner. Her cheeks are still flushed when they rush to their reservation and the waiter brings the menus to the table (Simon only looks annoyingly content with himself). 

If one thing is sure, it's this: Simon gets actual dimples on his cheeks from that honeymoon, and Sarah teases him about it for the rest of their lives. 

Every time the weather turns cold and rainy in London, they remember their Italian summer and the gardens filled with foreign scents and their wedding night which was a little too hot to get some sleep, not to talk of making love (of course they still did and were all sweaty and spent afterward, poor things), they remember their walks on the beaches filled with beautiful sea shells and how they should go back there someday, but Simon says it would never be the same... so they decide they will explore a new country and a new place every year. A few weeks, almost a month off from work, no matter what, so they can go and have some adventures and a slice of peace and live their lives to the full. 💞

#the fluff is strong with this one #tooth rotting fluff #proceed with caution #simon ghost riley x female oc #happily ever after #spoilers #answered

[dollya-robinprotector]

If... If Lya boobs are so big, does that mean that Lyah has big boobs as well or a big co—

I'm so sorry I left your ask for too long in the box I was drawing this to answer but I kinda lost the file so.... uhmmmmm

I hope this is enough to answer your question!!

#he's big #everything #I want a strong huge and BIG boy to protect femRobin #so yeah his everything are all big #yeah #how I create my male OC is kinda like how male author write female character #dollya ask #dol pc

[simpingland]

The queen's horse with no name || Ser Harwin Strong x Targaryen!reader

◇◇◇◇◇◇◆◆◆◇◇◇◇◇◇◆◆◆◇◇◇◇◇

Request: I wanted to ask if you can make a Harwin Strong x Targaryen reader story but instead of being the second born daughter she's the first born and the heir to the throne and you can base it on that scene where Rhaenyra comes back all bloodied and stuff

Thank you

She hated the carriage, she absolutely hated it. She felt stupid on it, all the rumbling, the smell of being so surrounded of more horses, the darkness and how fucking slow it was. Her father, King Viserys hurried her to join, along with her younger sister Rhaenyra, the heavily pregnant Alicent and the damn baby Aegon. No, it was an absolute "no".

"Father, may I fly there?" asked Elaena.

"Fly there? Are you out of your mind, Ela? Get on the carriage right now" said Viserys.

"What about I ride my horse?"

The King looked at her with denial eyes. Her sister tried to help.

"Father, I think you should let her take the horse, or she will take the dragon without your consent and you know that" Rhaenyra looked at Elaena and her begging frown.

"Elaena, you can't control your horse enough to ride it alone"

"Well, there's about one hundred men following us, i wouldn't consider that "riding alone". Well, father, i do control my beautiful Kyrax, I'll change my clothes in a mo--" She was cut by Viserys.

"Alright, alright, ride your damn horse...you better behave, Elaena, this hunt is an opportunity for you" the King entered the carriage, and Rhaenyra smiled at her sister, but she didn't return it.

"Cheer up, my princess, no lord would dare to approach you once they see your horrible riding"

"Oh, you are such a funny girl, Rhaenyra..."said Ela, faking a smile. "The lords will found you so charming, you won't be able to find time for your dear Ser Cristan..."

"Well, the real winner of the hunt will be the one who gets Ser Jason Lannister's marriage proposal" answers Nyra.

Both girls laughed before going separate ways. Elaena ask for her horse to be prepared. The ostler couldn't hide his confused face (also a terrified face) as the request.

"I'm not that bad, alright?...It's not my first time..." she said to the poor boy. That was true, but the fact the Elaena didn't even named her horse spoke a lot about their bond. It was a beautiful one, all brown, the shade of cinnamon and strong as the King's horse. It was a proper horse for the future Queen, maybe she should give the animal more attention.

It was easy to catch the royal family's carriage, the horse picked up a very fast pace, maybe a exaggerating fast pace, Eleana pretended that she chose that, ignoring the worring glances of Ser Harrold. She dared to knock one of the windows and her sister wasted no time of showing her little silver head to see her older sister embarrassing herself.

"Have you tamed the beast already, Ela?"

"Of course...she was already tamed" the words left her mouth and the horse started to walk the opposite direction, creating a sudden distant between the Targaryens. Rhaenyra laughed.

"YEAH, I CAN SEE THAT" screamed Rhaenyra, the only way for her voice to reach her.

"THAT WAS MY WILLING...HE SMELLS AEGON'S SHIT"

Rhaenyra closed the window, laughing shamelessly to the future queen. Hope she's bored as seven hells, wished Ela. Every men accompanying the family kept an eye on the princess, she kept on losing control of her horse, sometimes she would gallop so fast that Ser Criston rode on her rescue, other times she would jog so slowly that it was Ser Harrold the one waiting for her. The road was starting to feel eternal and the beautiful braids of Elaena started to fall apart. Good thing it was Rhaenyra the one who know how to braid them back.

They finally arrived, at least the carriage did, because Elaena was still a few feet behind, trying to hurry the creature. She could hear the lords clapping at her baby brother, praising the incredible wonder of keeping him alive...or being born a man. To be fair, that accomplish couldn't be done by Elaena, she'll give him that. Meanwhile, she got her horse to run fast, maybe too fast. The bond was so inexistente that the princess started to ride in circles instead of stopping.

"WHOA! WHOA..." soother a male deep voice "pull the reins firmly but slowly, my princess, tell him to stop"

"I'VE ALREADY TOLD HIM TO STOP" yelled the princess, frustrated and blushing with anger.

"He feels your discomfort, he's confused" the men got closer to the horse and continued to calm the horse. Elaena didn't even look who he was, but give it a try to pull the reins tighter, and finally, the horse stopped. She took a moment to go down, breathing out her frustration. "Let me help you down, my princess".

She got down alone, without even responding, it was then when she finally looked at the men. Handsome, brunette, fur coat, half ponytail, big and wide.

"Thanks for offering help, Ser Harwin"

"Everything for the princess" he couldn't hide a smile, offering, as if he didn't ended up helping her.

She nodded back when Ser Harwin gave her the formal bow. He was known as "breakbones", a funny nickname for the first son of one of the most intelligent man on court. She had spoke little to him, well, she has barely interacted with him. Elaena didn't expected to be the kind of man who knew how to treat horses. He was the type of men that only needed to raise a bit his voice to make thing fall on his feets. But he had approach her, patiently smoothing her horse and smile at a rejection.

She entered the biggest camp, to his family, trying to ignore the man behind her, who obviously walked the same direction, where his father probably waited for him too. She didn't expected all eyes on her, stupid expectation know that she thinks about it more. Not only was she the future queen, she had made a fuss with her graceless entrance on the stupid horse, she was late and her hair made her look like she just woke up from a nightmare. Nothing was going on her way that day. Her father scolded her with his eyes, Rhaenyra didn't laugh, because she could see Ela on the verge of tears, and Alicent did her the favor of speaking loudly to the reuniting court, giving an early "thank you for coming" speech and made it more interesting by announcing the possible names of the future baby. So when Elaena walked to her family, less eyes followed her, Harwin's were one of the few.

"You and your pigheadness" said Viserys. It was a terrible word to make yourself look angry, but both girls knew he was really upset. "I hope you enjoyed the ride, at the very least"

She said nothing, she couldn't lie about it. Rhaenyra took her sister by the hand and discreetly took her out of the camp, sitting her to fix her braids.

"I'll confess to you, the carriage was exhausting. Aegon did in fact shitted himself the moment we got out of the Red Keep and it smelled like shit the entire road. Father couldn't stop talking about future suitors...And Alicent...everyday I find it harder to stand her" Rhaenyra finished her job, expecting to make her older sister laugh, but she only smiled sadly. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you, sister" said Ela, entering the camp again.

Viserys stopped his oldest softly. He was in the middle of a conversation with the Hand, Otto.

"Ela, how would you like to participate? On the hunt?" he said.

"I'm not sure why I must" she absolutly hated hunts.

"Because you are my daughter... The Princess. And you have duties" he hardened his look.

"As I am ceaselessly reminded" she hardened her voice.

"You wouldn't need to be reminded if you ever attended to them"

"No one's here for me" and she turned her back to her father.

The lords were having dull conversations, or disgusting conversations, Ela couldn't choose which one was a better option, so she got closer to the woman's chatting center.

"My Lord husband says that no King has even been able to tame the Stepstones for long. It's an inhospitable place suited only for savages" spoke Alicent. She just entered the circle when Joselyn Redwyne centerded the attention back to her, Rhaenyra by her side as well.

"Perhaps the Princess can give us some insight" said Redwyne

She chucked at the little discretion of the mature lady "Oh, I'm not sure how I could. I've never been to the Stepstones"

"Your dear uncle is the great mind behind this war...is he not?" Insisted the lady.

"I wouldn't know. I've not spoken to Daemon in years" Ela was beggining to lost her patience again.

"Since you supplanted him as heir" her dog started to eat her cake and even with that, Elaena could still feel the humiliation. "What about you, Princes Rhaenyra? It is known that you had a closer relationship with Prince Daemon"

That was a comment worthy of a trial, an insinuation and everyone could notice, by the venom tone she used to said the words. Before any of the girls could responde, Alicent put curtesy over violence.

"Daemon made his choices, Lady Ceira. The Princess was more suited to the role" and she then smiled to Elaena.

"He's made a mess and the King must put an end to it. Send fleets and men and clear out the Triarchy for good". Insisted the woman.

"But the crown is not at war" said the princess.

"The crown... is at war, Princess. Though your father refuses to admit it, we've been dragged into it by your uncle and The Sea Snake". Thats the thing about good manners, they don't work for long.

"And how have you served the realm of late, Lady Redwyne, by eating cake?" Responded Rhaenyra.

"The Royal discussions and relationships of a family who is not your own is none of your concern, Lady Redwyne. I hope that you keep your circle of "friends" away from rumors or misinformation, for your own good". Elaena left the camp, the entire chating group silence.

A bit of fresh air will do no wrong, and she was willing to enjoy it. She caught a glimpse of Ser Harwin, he caught her looking and, for the hundredth time on that day, she mentally curses herself. He was enjoying a beer, alone, while a few more men spoke beside him. He slowly got closer to her, but said nothing.

She couldn't bear it. It's not that it was awkward, it was just weird, to have a high born lord close to her stay silent. All her septas lessons on manners flashing her mind.

"May I help you, Ser?" She side-eyed him.

"Oh, no, no, princess. I just wanted to see what you find so fascinating, admiring the view" she know realized, that she stopped in that spot suddenly, like she has been nailed to the floor. He was acting as if he didn't noticed how fucking weird the princess was acting. But he had noticed and she noticed that he noticed her. "A beautiful creature...your horse" spoke Harwin. She must have guess, he was a bit of an asshole too.

"I can't even come up with a name for it" she spilled.

"Well, my princess, that is a primary thing for bonding"

"You have any suggestions, Ser?" She asked, sarcasm in her voice.

"Laps" he said, a smile on. "I named my first horse "Shitter" because he left shits at every corner we rode".

"Well, Ser Harwin, I'm not naming my horse after an annoying trait, I'm not twelve years old..." even tho I ride like like one... she thought.

"It was the suggestion that came into my mind. It worked for me..." said Harwin, he know that the princess was close to throwing a tantrum, and the last thing he wanted was causing it. Maybe, he wondered, I should shut up at this very moment. He wasn't good with words and he found it hard to express himself, you just can't go around spilling your raw thoughts to the future queen...but how was he supposed to tell her that she had the biggest balls on the Realm... He just can't greet her with "Well my princess, you have the damn guts every single time..." it wouldnt be proper (but why tho?). So he did what it was supposed to be done to show respect, he kept silent.

"I ride a dragon, you know?" She was now losing it. Harwin looked at her, and she turned to him. "All this fucking people, with their fucking carriages look at me because I can't control my fucking horse... and they dare to look at me as if a was a fool, a mediocre one even..."

"My princess, I'll have to dis--" Ser Harwin was rudely interrupted by a Lord, Jace fucking Lannister, no less.

"Princess Elaena, how stunning you look today" he greeted, exaggerating his bow. Ser Harwin didn't wish to leave the princess but he was about to when she included him in the conversation, a clear yell for help.

"Thank you, Ser...?" she looked at Harwin.

"This is Ser Jason, my princess, a Lannister" answered him "his twin is on the co--"

"Tyland, yes" he interrupted again, clearly irritated "he serves Your Grace at King's Landing...my twin".

"An identical one" said Ela.

"Well, yes...some think us identical..."

"The princess does thinks that to..." said Harwin, testing him.

"Well, you must be right, princess, but i keep my hair as the traditional style on Casterly Rock, long as the lions..."

"Very pretty and shiny, sure it must be soft too..." interrupted the princess, mocking the high Lord as well.

Jason unsuccessfully forced a laugh "indeed, princess. The water in Casterly Rock is clear as the sky on a spring morning, sweet as a kiss and it purifies the body as the gods themselves" Ela shoot a side look at Ser Harwin, he corresponded with a side smirk, doing their best not to laugh "a pity my brother came out of our mother after me...but he wasn't destined for ruling one of the biggest hou--"

"How can you be sure they didn't switch you when you were babies" interrupted the princess again. Jason Lannister could not believe the conversation but he couldn't tell the princess to cut the shit up.

"Yes, thats right, princess, as identical twins it was very easy for the septas to confuse you both at least once or twice... maybe you were the second son" continued Ser Harwin, the Lord was definitely infuriated but the princess was clearly on his side, nothing could be down in front of her. "The gods may have chose the rightful heir the first but parents are human and confusion is a very human trait".

"Well, princess, I believe myself the rightful heir because I'm naturally fit for my role. Tyland, a good man, is certainly the biggest bore on court and the most spinless--"

"I keep Ser Tyland a great appreciation" said Ela "an honorable man, one of the best at court. Dont you agree, Ser Harwin?"

"I certainly do, my princess. He has a talent to speak the truth when must needed it, always informed and a great adviser " followed Harwin.

Jace had giving up, "Well, princess, I'm sure he is great at serving the King, but I can assure you...a first born heir will be better to serve a queen outside the meeting room". There it was, a shameless and straight proposal.

"Good luck finding a queen willing to lower herself for a long, pretty and soft hair...she has a wonderful water to drown herself if needed" and with that, the princess left, not before nodding goodbye to both men. Only one of them was smiling while bowing. Ser Harwin couldn't hide it as he saw the princess storm out, walking away. He was about to follow her when his father called for him at a short distance. His father must have seen everything, and if not, sure did his brother Larys, who sure would tell Ser Lyonel. He know what he would say, if the princess says goodbye, she want you out of her way. He directed himself towards them, pitying princess Rhaenyra, who didn't see Ser Jason looking at her, willing to propose again.

Ser Harwin ate with his family, he kept silence, an idea wondering his mind. What's the ideal man for a queen? Not only a simple queen, a Targaryen, the ruling queen, with one of the most terrifying creatures on her side, her most loyal partner. Who is worthy of fathering her children? A man could only wish, surely his father would say that...but a man can also fight, and ser Harwin was a fighter for what he believed, for what he respected.

The princess entered the camp a while later. Her father, who sit on a chair with a bottomless glass of wine, called for her, quite loudly, people turning. Ela went to met him fast, not wanting to anger him more, she connected the dotts when she saw Ser Jason on the camp as well, dangerously close to his king.

"Father, I hope you respect my choice of staying here..."she spoke softly "im not even skilled enough for hun--"

"I though we have taught you some manners, Ela..." he was angry and you could hear that. "You have insulted one of the highest Lords in Westeros...a future queen..."

"What insult have I directed to him, father? I really want to know...only words of appreciation have been given to him by me" she said a bit more strongly.

"Don't act fool, Elaena. You have mocked ser Jace's proposals. A very good one, and you sure know it was"

"Is that what I am to you? A prize to proffer about to the great houses?"

"You're of age, Elanea. And Jason Lannister is an excellent match" he said, Rhaenyra came to his father's side.

"He's arrogant and self-serious." Said the youngest.

"Well, I thought you might have that in common" he scalded her. Rhaenyra lowered her head. "Since you came of age, Ela, I've been slowly drowning in a lake of parchment flung from every corner of the realm. Marriage proposals, all. And I have tried often to discuss it with you, but you've refused me at every turn"

"That is because I do not wish to get married".

"Even I do not exist above tradition and duty, Elaena! You have always known your fate. All this fooling around...What would your mother think of you? She, who sacrificed herself for her duty?"

Elaena was trying to hold the tears in her eyes when Otto announced that the hunt was about to begin. Everyone saw, everyone heard. It was now Jason who smirked while Harwin looked at the princess with worry.

The princess then ran away, with her horse and Rhaenyra following. It was to late for Viserys when he noticed the two horses missing, and Ser Criston was the one guard commanded to follow them. Ser Harwin tryed to clear his mind, focusing on the hunt. He was sure Elaena was going to be alright, even tho, he hoped to hunt down any danger that appeared before it could attack his princess.

When Rhaenyra finally cought his sister, she gave Criston the order of keeping distance, giving them both privacy. By the lake, Elaena got down of her horse and stared at the water. Rhaenyra didn't need to say a word to console her sister. Ela started to cry, heavy tears. She whined on her little sister's shoulder when Rhaenyra offered it to her. Both knew what was going on, Ela just needed to suffer it a little more loudly, she was granted a good cry too. They decided to stay away until the next morning, talking about unimportant things, forgetting for a bit about the crown.

"Father is right" said Ela, "mother wished for us to become mothers"

"I do believe we'll find ourselves involucrated with a little aegon of our own sooner or later, im afraid" joked Rhaenyra.

"Oh, Rhaenyra, at least you can joke about it"

"Don't you dare think father would allow me total freedom just because I'm a second born. All i have for me is every thing you refuse to have"

"Thats a terrible thought"

"Its the truth, Ela..." she smiled "Ser Jason told me he would be willing to build me a dragon pit in casterly rock...so if you marry a mediocre lord then the good ones will come for my hand"

Ela laughed "a Targaryen princess with influence on court but not directly on the throne and therefore not in direct danger or heavy work...sounds tempting". They both laughed, and Elaena remembered something "You think a Strong would be willing to take the shadow of a king consort?"

"I hope you don't mean Ser Lyonel..." chucked Rhaenyra "you would be the most popular on his list of wifes, that's for sure"

"No, you stupid...i mean...Ser Harwin" she looked at her sister, who give her a perverse smirk "I just asked myself how would be like to ride on the second best beast wondering Westeros, that's all"

They both exploited in a fist of laughts, never minding poor and confused Ser Criston, who was to invested in the gossiping to notice the wild boar storming close. The girls screamed when it came, unluckily, Ser Criston had been thrown away by the creature, and it ran to the girls. The closer one was Elaena and she only could push it away. It was Rhaenyra the one who crossed the animal with Ser Criston's sword. The board cried in agony and the sisters caught their breaths, tightening their hands. Suddenly, the animal started to move and scream again and this time it was Elaena who pushed Rhaenyra aside and stabbed the animal. She cried in frustration and pressed the knive so hard and so fast that the blood almost showered her completly. She thought of the looks of doubts, of the disappointment on her father's voice, on the battles waiting for her and her enemies laughing at her. She let go of her anger as she made sure the beast couldn't come back to harm her or her sister. She cried until it didn't move. Rhaenyra looked at her sister but let her relax alone, and instead attended poor Ser Cristan.

The morning came with a sun and a white stag on the road back. The Targaryen girls admired the beautiful creature and smiled thinking that it survived the royal hunt. The stag looked at Elaena and she felt her fate as queen strengthening. They let the stag go peacefully, continuing they walk to the camp.

Ser Harwin spent the morning skinning some of the rabbits that came from the hunting. A mediocre one, if you asked him. No white stag was found and the King had is mind elsewhere. He had hold the brown stag for the King, wishing to put an end to the endless afternoon. They give the animal a graceless death and Ser Harwin found himself doing whatever it took to mind his own business instead of searching for the princesses.

"What did you spoke about with the princess yesterday, brother?" Asked Larys sitting beside him.

"Nothing worth mentioning, Larys...we just admired the view of the forest"

"You must have found it astonishing...you have kept quiet ever since she left your side" of course Larys had noticed, he knew his brother like the back of his hand. "The King does listen to father's advise, Harwin, maybe you could present yourself, ask father to favor you".

"Father favors Leanor Velaryon. And I'm sure the King would like the match, they'll make pure valyrian kings"

"Well, the Velaryons are quite crossed with the King, asking for their heir to stand under the shadow of a queen could be taken as an insult, more after the King's marriage with Alicent" all the woman talk of Larys was being beneficial for once, he thought Harwin stopping his peeling. "Also, it's our Father, you are his son, and I'm also a proper heir for Harrenhal, a little slower but still valid. Father loves us, I'm afraid"

Harwin tried to pay no mind to his brother, he found the idea illusional, so he kept doing his work. Horses started to get closer to the the camps and people stopped to look at the arrivals of the three. Three horses, two princesses and the knight. Ser Criston walked behind, Rhaenyra walked fast, hair and clothes full of dirt, walking her horse aside. The princess Elaena's horse was carring a big, dead boar. Harwin looked for the princess herself, she was walking slowly, covered from hips to her head of blood, her beautiful face also stained. Her expression was a mixture of harshness, of triumph and greatness. She looked at Ser Harwin, who nodded at the princess, showing her his respect and admiration. He was astonished, as everyone else, but it was Harwin's smile that showed her that the respect was pure, was true, and it was her's.

She couldn't help but smile, she smiled back at him right before passing her father, the boar left in front of his table.

The hunt was done, it was time to go back home and the question appeared again in the air. Was the princess willing to get in the carriage. No, definitely not. Everybody went back to their bussines moments before biding the royal family a proper goodbye, it was Elaena the one who interrupted Ser Harwin.

"I have decided for a name for my horse, Ser Harwin" she spoke.

"I'm glad to hear that, my princess" turned Harwin "may I know it?"

"Laps...he's named Laps" she tried not to blush. "A very childish name, thats for sure, but appropriate for a rider like me".

"You, my princess, are a dragon raider... Kyrax is a name proper for a dragon...no shame in not mastering a horse when you can ride on the air"

She smiled at the mention of her beloved dragon, not many cared to remember the name. "Well, I guess it is special to see a dragon raider losing control of a stupid horse..."

"No, my princess, the thing is that, it is special to see the future dragon raider queen walk by".

They looked at eachother right in the eyes, glips of light on both, he looked down, she looked up. Quiet, nothing else to say. She looked at herself in the reflection of his eyes, the pupils expanded but even there she could tell they were green. He looked into the violet eyes his now princess. She standed there, smiling truthfully and lovingly before carising his hand. She turned then, heading to her horse. She looked back, wanting to catch a last glipse of Ser Harwin, he found his eyes still fixed on her, he bowed softly to her and she nodded, smiling with her eyes. A silly grin appearing the moment she gave her back.

He was going to stand by her side, no matter the shadow, the blood or the fire. She believed in her, he was fighting for her.

#harwin strong imagine #harwin x reader #harwin strong x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #ryan corr #ryan corr imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #harwin is a faminist #harwin strong x oc #house of the dragon x oc #harwin strong x original female character

[fereldanwench]

little 🍑y for shippy saturday | pose from @elfjpeg's tender pack ♡

⚠️ do not reupload or edit my shots without my permission ⚠️

#goro takemura #takemura goro #takemura x v #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077edit #cp2077 screenshots #cyberpunk 2077 photomode #cyberpunk 2077 v #cyberpunk 2077 oc #female v #fem v #c: goro takemura #oc: valerie v powell #ship: goro x valerie #g: cyberpunk 2077 #mine: edits #misc: queued #this is one of those sets that makes my bisexual ass go insane tbh #like idk who i'm more jealous of here #goro for having valerie's cute butt on his lap or valerie for holding on to those strong shoulders hngggg

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (16)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, dirty talk, breeding kink, description of wounds and trauma, remorse ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He remembered little of their journey back to King's Landing; it seemed to him that his conversation with Daemon, and before that with Aegon, had been a dream, and that it had all not really happened. Throughout the journey, he kept his cheek pressed against his wife's temple, feeling great relief but also fear.

He was sure she would run away.

He was sure she would let him down again, and some part of him wished she would.

Why?

When they reappeared in the Red Keep there were only a few hours left until dawn; he instructed his guards to convey to his brother as soon as he woke up, that he should call a meeting of the Small Council where he would be able to give a brief report of what had happened.

Afterwards, he and his wife both retired to his chamber, stripping out of their riding attire, speechless and exhausted. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, feeling a tightness in his throat, wondering why he felt tense, why he was not rejoicing.

He swallowed loudly as he realised that he had expected a betrayal on her part, because it would make things a lot easier for him.

He could then turn his back on her and her family once and for all, shed his illusions, become who he had been for eight years again.

It frightened him that now, when it was obvious that she had proved her loyalty to him, that she had chosen him at last, so many things remained unsaid, silenced, repressed.

He felt her uncertain gaze on him as she stayed in just her nightgown, heard his bed creak quietly under the weight of her body.

"My love?" He heard her soft voice and grunted, staying in only his breeches and linen shirt.

She twisted towards him as he lay down beside her on his back, placing his hands on his stomach, sighing heavily with exhaustion.

He shuddered when he felt her warm, soft hand on his – their fingers began to trail and rub against each other in the air, just like when she had come to him that first night after many years of separation.

"Speak to me, Aemond. Don't lock yourself in your mind." She said calmly; something in her words, in the fact that she sensed his anxiety made him swallow loudly, opening and closing his mouth several times, unable to get anything out. He finally shook his head, closing his eyes, deciding there was no point.

"Say it. Say all the things you've always wanted to say to me. Even if those words will only cause me pain. I want to know."

He opened his eyes, feeling his heart begin to pound like mad, a shiver ran along his spine.

"I will never understand how could you leave me then." He finally said in a voice filled with regret and venom – he felt her twist next to him restlessly, drawing in air loudly.

He didn't look at her, but he felt her hand tighten on his.

"That was never my intention."

"Then why?"

"My mother then told me to let you rest and calm down. That the guards wouldn't let me visit you anyway by order of the Queen."

"What a nonsense."

"I am speaking the truth. When I wanted to pay you a visit a few days later, Criston Cole sent me away."

He felt his heart stop at those words; his whole body tensed, his breath stuck in his throat as he finally looked at her with wide-eyed expression.

"What?"

He felt her thumb stroke his palm, her eyes looking at him pleadingly.

"I swear, five days after what happened, I came to pay you a visit. I came every day after that, but he always sent me away. He said you didn't want to see me." She mumbled, and he snorted in disbelief and amusement, shaking his head. He looked at her in shock, wanting to see anything in her face that could confirm that she was lying.

He swallowed hard, embittered, leaning the back of his head against the back of the bed.

"It doesn't matter. I needed you when it happened."

"I needed you too. When Criston Cole held my cheeks as your mother's guards poured moon tea down my throat. I wondered at the time if that's how you felt." She said with weariness, sadness and indifference from which he felt an unpleasant squeeze in his stomach; he felt his lips part involuntarily, a hot, overpowering wave of shame surge through his body.

They stared at each other for a moment in silence, just breathing, not moving or saying anything, her hand still on his, warmth and reassurance in her touch.

For the first time in eight years, they spoke honestly about what had happened.

"Why didn't you ever write me back?" She asked at last, her voice trembling slightly, as if the very thought of it made tears of regret rise in the corners of her eyes.

He clamped his eyelids shut, sighing heavily, this time it was his fingers that stroked her hand.

"I've tried. I tried so many times. But I was unable to fill the parchment because no words seemed to describe what I was feeling. I couldn't put my thoughts into sentences. Everything that came out from under my hand was the ramblings of a madman and ended up burning in the fire. Then it was too late. I didn't see the point." He said, not believing that these words had left his mouth; he glanced at her uncertainly out of the corner of his eye, a single, solitary tear ran down the side of her face.

"You didn't even let me explain myself. You didn't give me a chance despite the fact that I've never let you down before." She muttered, and he swallowed loudly, feeling an unbearable tightness in his throat.

"I know."

He took his hand from her grasp and put his arm around her – her body immediately clung to his, entwining with his like a vine, her face sunk into the hollow of his neck, his hand roaming lazily down her back while his lips placed warm, lingering kisses on the top of her head.

They fell asleep for the few hours separating them from dawn in their tight embrace, not like lovers, but like they used to when they were children, holding hands, their foreheads touching.

He felt how, as she awoke, her fingers stroked his cheek gently, her lips placed a warm, soft kiss on his, which he reciprocated with a low murmur of satisfaction, without even opening his eyes.

For the first time in eight years, he felt at peace.

For the first time in eight years, he felt relief.

His closest friend was by his side again.

They were both just dreaming of sleeping on when Criston Cole walked into his chamber announcing that the King had called an immediate meeting of the Small Council in accordance with his wishes.

He sighed heavily, rising slowly from his bed, ordering his servants to prepare a suitable tunic for him. He turned, looking at her over his shoulder, his broad hand stroking her bare calf with a soft, lazy gesture.

"Accompany me. Be by my side."

The sight of her walking behind him as the door of the chamber in which all those gathered sat opened before them did not satisfy his grandfather or his mother.

He pretended not to see their warning glances, instead ordering one of the servants standing nearby to place a second chair right next to his, where he took his seat, placing his sapphire ball in a niche in the stone table.

"Speak, brother." Aegon began without undue politeness or introduction. His mother, his grandfather and Criston Cole were all opposed to their idea, however Lord Lannister and the other houses supporting them were far more accepting of the news that perhaps the whole matter of succession would be resolved without a bloody, kingdom-destroying war.

"Our uncle is as brazen as I remember him to be, however, despite his misgivings, he has not declined our offer. He will certainly pass on our words to our sister. We must wait." He replied truthfully; his mother sighed heavily, burying her face in her hands.

"What if no son is born to you, Aemond? If it is officially the sons of Rheanyra and Daemon who become heirs, they will kill us all for treason." She said with impatience, grief and horror – he opened his mouth to reply, however his wife forestalled him.

"You may have killed the child in my womb who could have been the heir we so need now. We will never know, will we?" She sneered, and he felt an unpleasant shiver run down his back.

His hand clenched into a fist at the mere memory of what had happened and what she had done next. He looked at his wife's face out of the corner of his eye and swallowed hard, seeing in her expression strenght, determination and confidence.

Just what he needed.

Complete silence fell, his mother lowered her head, pressing her lips into a thin line.

"As I said, we have to wait. We have done what we could."

The fact that Aegon had agreed to try to come to an agreement over the succession did not mean that either of them were going to give up preparing for a possible war, so they spent the rest of the meeting discussing what they would do if that plan failed. The King then asked his wife to leave; she rose and left without a word, touching his shoulder with her hand beforehand.

Something had changed between them, he could feel it.

As he watched the door close behind her, he realised that after she had decided to come back with him instead of running away with Daemon, after what he had confessed to her the wall that had been piling up between them since the night he had tamed Vhagar had finally collapsed.

When he returned to his quarters he did not find her there, so he headed for her chamber, informing the guards that no one was to disturb them. As he stepped inside he noticed her figure sitting by the window, bent over the embroidery of the Arryn family crest; the sun was beaming down on her face, he could feel a pleasant summer breeze all around her.

She lifted her gaze to him and smiled in a way he knew, one he remembered well from when they were children; what touched him in that look, in that smile, was the confirmation that she felt the same as he did, that she knew that something had finally changed between them, had set in on the right track.

He approached her slowly, involuntarily extending his hand towards her cheek; he watched as she pressed her face into his skin rough from holding the sword and sighed quietly as her lips placed a soft, warm kiss on his palm.

Gods, how he loved her.

He took the cloth from her hand and set it aside, grabbing her waist and lifting her, seating her in front of him on the top of the old wooden table. She stared at him with her eyes wide open, surprised, her lips parted slightly in an accelerated breath, betraying her uncertainty and excitement; he took a step towards her, so that their faces were almost touching, cupping her cheek in his palms, so soft, so warm.

She smelled of vanilla.

He looked at her, at her bright, warm gaze, at her gentle face, which had so much of that childishness of many years ago in it, while being more mature, more girlish, more tempting; her dark lashes shone in the sunlight as she closed her eyelids feeling his thumb run slowly over her fleshy, moist lower lip.

She was his wife.

What he wanted had truly come true.

She stood before him again, his childhood friend, his lover.

"Rheanys." He whispered and she opened her eyes, looking at him in disbelief; he saw her cheeks flush, her body trembled all over with delight. She raised her hand and he moved away immediately, horrified when he realised she wanted to grab his black eye patch.

"No."

"You're my husband. That's enough." She said regretfully and tiredly, taking his face in her hands. He looked down at her, breathing heavily, his eyebrows arched in uncertainty, in shame, in fear.

"Don't spoil this beautiful day for me." He said at last in a low, hoarse voice. She pressed her lips together as if his words caused her pain, her fingers sliding down his jaw, dropping powerlessly.

"One step forward, two steps back." She said softly, and he swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in his throat at her words. He sighed loudly through his nose, licking his lower lip with his tongue, fighting with himself.

He didn't know what had happened, what had changed, what had brought him to reach up to his face, to grab his eye patch and pull it off with a sudden, aggressive movement, throwing it impatiently to the ground.

He saw her raise her shoulders high, frightened by his sudden gesture, her lips parted in disbelief, her pupils narrowed as she looked straight at him. He expected her to turn her face away at this sight, to betray herself with a stare full of disgust or fear, but instead her eyes turned red from the tears that had gathered in their corners.

"Come." She whispered, grabbing the material of his tunic with her hand, pulling him closer; he involuntarily took a few steps forward, shocked by her reaction, by her expression, as if what she had seen had moved her greatly, but not in the way he had expected. "Come here."

Her hand lifted higher, to his cheek – he closed his eyes, feeling his whole body freeze as her fingers ran gently over the line along which his scar ran.

"Oh, my dearest, you must have suffered so much. It must have caused you so much pain. For so many, so many months, you must have died every day. Forgive me." She mumbled out in a trembling, breaking voice, from which he pressed his lips together, himself touched for some reason, embittered and grateful at the same time, because for so long he had been waiting for that very look, that very touch and those words from her, just from her.

She kissed him in a way she had never done before – it was neither a child's kiss nor a lover's kiss; it was a caress full of warmth, moisture and care, a tenderness from which he involuntarily closed her in his arms, leaning lower to press himself tighter to her swollen lips.

Their mouths brushed each other lazily, slowly, unhurriedly, as if they had all the time in the world, their hands stroking each other's faces with gentle, calm movements, birdsong all around them, the loud conversations in the courtyard coming from behind the open window and the quiet, sticky clicks of their saliva.

He felt himself shudder each time his lips pressed against hers again, their arms holding them close together, his lungs filling with her scent.

Vanilla.

His manhood slowly began to swell and throb from those wonderfully this innocent caresses full of promise, something they hadn't done before but so desperately needed.

"Make love to me." He whispered into her mouth; she moaned softly, throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, forcing them to join together again in a hot, lazy kiss, which he did eagerly.

Only after a moment did their tongues come out to meet each other, their tips beginning to lick teasingly making them both breathe louder; his hands slid lower to her gown, lifting its material higher, exposing her wonderfully soft, bare thighs.

He let her take care of him, undoing the buckles of his tunic and the tying of his breeches as he kissed with emotion her forehead, her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, her temple.

She was his.

It seemed to him that they had gone back in time, to that day when she had kissed him for the first time.

As if what they were doing now was an extension of that moment.

"Do you think we would have persevered until marriage? With staying in chastity." He gasped, sighing quietly in relief when her skilled fingers finally released his desire-sore manhood, his arm drawing her closer as her thighs spread eagerly before him.

He heard her giggle softly, when he lifted his gaze to her he saw pure joy, warmth and love in her eyes, exactly as they had been then, that day.

"If you want, you can believe it, uncle." She replied tauntingly, just as she always did, just as in his fantasies; he snorted at the thought, sinking his hand into her warm womanhood, already leaking with desire. She tilted her head back, sighing with pleasure as his fingertips ran over her throbbing, moist slit.

"What do you imagine would happen?" He continued on, teasing her with the movements of his finger, which slid a little between her tight, wet muscles, pushing them apart, rubbing her rough bud hidden just above her opening. A soft, sweet moan came from her lips as she swallowed loudly, looking up at him from under half-closed eyelids.

"One night, when I would visit you in your chamber, we would begin to touch. Innocently at first, but eventually you would understand what it feels like to clamp your fingers on the soft breast of your beloved woman. You would understand what pleasure lies deep between my thighs." She cooed sweetly; he gasped loudly, embarrassed by how hard his cock pulsed at her words, which did not escape her attention.

"You'd say you wish to feel me just for a moment −" She whispered, with a gentle flick of her hand directing his swollen, hard length between her thighs; they both moaned quietly as he began to push against her and opened her wide on the thick head of his cock with a soft, firm thrust of his hips. "− but we would both know it was a simple lie, spoken only to make us feel less guilty."

A throaty, low groan escaped his lips at that thought; his hands clamped down on her buttocks covered by the material of her gown, with a deep thrust of his hips forcing her to let him inside her. She whimpered, panting heavily along with him, looking at him with her mouth wide open, as if she didn't recognise him.

She put her hand around the back of his neck, the other resting on the table top, trying to catch her balance as he began to root into her with slow, lazy thrusts, sliding out of her almost all the way, only to sink back between her warm, moist muscles a moment later.

"− Aemond −" She mewled, closing her eyes, responding involuntarily with the rocking of her hips to his treatments – it seemed to him that they were both in a state of some kind of ecstasy that nevertheless had more to do with what they had shared when they were children than now, when they were united by fire and blood.

"− and what would you do? − hm? − what would you do if I put it inside you and told you I wouldn't stop until I filled you? −" He breathed out, involuntarily quickening his pace; she moaned pleadingly at his shameless question, her fleshy, hot core clenched tightly around his erection, sucking it inside her, their bodies slapping against each other with loud smacks of skin against skin.

"− I would beg for your seed −" She mumbled out; his hand tightened on her hair at her words, his lips clinging to hers in a greedy, hot kiss full of their tongues and saliva, in a caress not filled with hatred and aggression but pure, hot desire.

"− so fucking beg −" He growled into her mouth between their quick, loud kisses, their lips with a sticky click clinging and pulling away from each other as their bodies found their own pace to pleasure, his thick cock pulsing with desire slamming into her so deep and fast that he seemed to run out of breath, her cheeks and lips all pink with exertion.

"− please, uncle − put your heir inside me −" She whimpered helplessly and that was enough for him – he pressed his forehead against hers, panting loudly, holding her close in a strong embrace in his arms, with a few sloppy, sticky thrusts prolonging the inevitable to finally spill deep inside her. He feel a powerful orgasm shake her body, her head tilted back with a sweet cry of pleasure.

"− yes − yes, oh, gods, uncle, fill me −" She mumbled, her hands drawing him back to her mouth, their lips devouring each other in fierce, moist kisses as the last drops of his spend filled her womb. They both rocked their hips for a while longer with loud clicks of her wetness, panting quietly as they tried to calm their breathing, their hands roaming over their bodies, their eyes closed, focused only on the relief they both felt.

"− this is how I always imagined us − you and me when we were married −" She whispered, and he sighed, understanding what she meant.

Though united by passionate affection, regret, distrust and grief dominated their every approach.

"− my wife begging for my seed is indeed an important part of my vision of a perfect marriage −" He sneered, noticing the amusement in her eyes when she understood that he was teasing her.

That he had returned to her, that she had won him back, that she was looking at the boy she had lost that night.

Her lips parted in disbelief when she noticed that the corner of his mouth lifted upwards, gently, not mockingly, not maliciously.

He smiled.

For the first time in so many years.

He stroked her cheek with his hand as her eyebrows arched in pain, as her eyes glazed over from the tears that ran down her face one by one onto his warm palm.

They kissed again, then again and again, warmly, tenderly, innocently, devotedly, with the affection he had dreamed of for so many years and he thought, hiding this realisation deep in his heart, that this was the happiest day of his life.

The day he got his best friend back.

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[alyshiba]

Lilagon hen zaldrizoti

Part One: Debts and stale oaths.

Read on Ao3

Summary: AU where Visenya, Rhaenyra's only daughter lives and is born as her eldest child. To all of Westeros she is seen as the only trueborn child of Ser Leanor and Rhaenyra, but in truth her father happens to be Deamon.

Author's note: Hello lovely readers! I have desappeared for a while.. life sometimes gets in the way. I have thought long and hard about this fic, and, as much as I love it, re-reading it made me cringe at some of the hearliest chapters.. so, as I have hinted in the last author's note, I have decided to rewrite everything until chapter 8. There will be some minor changes, for the better. I cannot possibily move on writing this without fixing the beginning, my brain doesn't allow me to.

Since I found transalting in Valyrian a mess (also becouse every translator gives different translation), for longest phrases I'll simply put them between asteriscs . So if you see anything that is being said formatted like this <<*dialogue*>> that's meant to be in high valyrian. So, if you are a new reader and you wish to know what happens next.. both here and on Ao3 you'll find all of the 12 chapters I've written so far. Here on Tumblr, once I'll have the rewritten chapter ready I'll delete the old one and post the new, both in the master list and in the index at the beginning of each part. On Ao3 each chapter will stay up until I've completely rewritten everything that needs to. If you have any suggestions, please feel free to comment them down below. I'd love to hear them and better my work!

Prequel | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

&lt;<Go home, pup, and tell the bitch your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not a dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes>> Said Borros Baratheon with a smug look on his face. 

The round hall of Storm’s End was packed with people, how many it was impossible to say. The gargantuan hall was too big and dimly lit to possibly ever count every single present. Worse still, all the nooks, pillars and columns offered the perfect hiding spot for all of those who were curious to just get a glimpse of the two Targaryens present.

The entire room fell silent for a long moment, as if holding its breath. The only sounds that could be heard were those of the raging storm outside. 

Everyone was too eager to hear how the young prince would respond to such insult thrown at his mother.

That, perhaps, was why no one paid any attention to the angry footsteps that were fast approaching.

Lucerys was about to open his mouth and speak, slightly trembling between the imposing figures of the Lord of Storm’s End and the uncle he didn’t expect to find there, but he was cut off before he could make any sound by a stronger, angrier, voice. &lt;<Then all of Westeros will know that Borros Baratheon, the Lord of Storm’s End, is an oath breaker and a man without honor>>.

She could see Borros stiffening in his seat, Luke’s back straightened recognizing his eldest sister’s voice. The young prince was bracing for impact: either her anger was directed at him, for the failure of that diplomatic mission, or at the Lord of Storm’s End. His head  shooting in her direction, a wave of dark curly hair falling in front of his eyes wide opened in shock. She passed him, and just quickly, taking care that no one saw, squeezed his hand in reassurance. 

Immediately she took notice of Aemond, almost hidden in the dark side of the room, not far from the stone throne at the center. She forced herself not to stare, nor think, at the silver-haired prince, and locked her gaze on the high lord in front of her, but she did not give him her entire focus. Never, that she left for Aemond alone.

A young page, drenched from head to toe, came running, halting just a few steps in front of her. He bent over for a moment with his hand on his knees catching his breath. It was a gesture of physical need, rather than a curtsy towards his liege, he was supposed to announce her presence. &lt;<The princess Visenya, of the houses Targaryen and Velaryon, my lord>> He said, between heavy breaths, <&lt;my prince>> he added, when he noticed Aemond staring in their direction. The young man was immediately dismissed with a wave of Borros’ hand, not to be seen again.

Visenya lifted her chin, and  took note of her prey: the man on the high seat. Borros was a middle aged man, heavier in shape, but still the hint of the warrior could be seen hidden under the heavy furs. Not that she really thought the man did any sort of physical fighting in the past years. His body was tense, like a rope.  He was clutching the throne’s handle so hard his knuckles became white, and she imagined the tips of his fingers would soon bleed, either from broken nails or from the scratch of skin on the rough stone. He was a proud man, like the crowned stag flappin on the banner atop his head. And the insult she threw at him had rendered him so enraged he could hardly think straight. Just as she had wanted him.

&lt;<And worse still>> She continued, moving two steps closer to the object of her own anger, <<may I remind you that we are kin by blood? My grandmother, the princess Rhaenys is your cousin, no?>> Visenya felt now how Borros was already tasting the bitter accusation on the tip of his tongue. No one, in the huge round hall of Storm’s End had yet dared make a sound, <<what would her uncle, the late Lord Boremund think, of his son waging war on his own flesh and blood?>> His face was slowly, but surely, turning all shades of red by now, <<is that what you wish? To forever brand your house as Kinslayers? Men without honor? Is that what the men of the Stormlands wish to become?>>

Visenya had given up on winning House Baratheon over to their side the moment she landed in the yard. Parts of her had known ever since her mother decided to send Luke, just like her father had known. Still Rhaenyra was hopeful, and naive, that this man would abide by the vows of his father.

Yet even if the high lord was a better man, there was something that they could just not grant him: a marriage. The princess allowed her gaze to wander the room for a moment, three girls stood on one side of Borros, his daughters. One behind Aemond. Who wouldn’t wish for their blood to mix in the royal family?

Borros had no love for Rhaenyra, and had taken his decision long before even Luke stepped foot in these halls, but, if she played her game the right way, she could persuade his lords to mutiny. And now she was indeed winning. 

She could see, clear as day, the seed of doubt in the eyes of the lords around Borros, the fear, not for her, or for her parents, not yet, but the fear for what the gods might bring them should they follow that man into war. That was her only chance.

&lt;<Do not mistake the Queen’s offer for weakness, my Lord>> Visenya willed her voice to become gentler, softer, more diplomatic, <<my mother, unlike the Hightowers,>> and yourself, was what she didn’t say, <<does not wish to plunge the realm into war, or else I wouldn’t be here to talk>> she moved her gaze towards her uncle then, the only true danger in that room, or outside of it, <<but if her hand is forced, then I will have no other choice than to fly Balerion the dread to war once more.>> Aemond hadn’t moved a step from his position. He was standing at ease, his hands locked behind his back, a sardonic smile gracing his features, as if he was enjoying the scene.

Everyone else straightened at her words. 

It was now widely accepted that at least one battle was going to be fought over Viserys’s succession. Or else the negotiation would take place among the royal family, yet no one had dared voice what, deep down, they feared: a Targaryen civil war would never be fought on land with an army. It would be fought on dragonback. And everything else might as well burn down by the time they were finished.

&lt;<My sweet niece>> Aemond purred. His voice sent a chill down her spine, Visenya wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating Aemon’s abilities only because of the lack of one eye. She remembered seeing him best Ser Criston Cole with ease in the training yard not even a moon ago. So her hand, as useless as a gesture it was, went instinctively on the hilt of the dagger her father had given her upon parting from Dragonstone. He was, after all, the only reason she was in Storm’s End to begin with. Upon flying home, she had felt Balerion sensing the presence of Vhagar. And in that specific moment she realized she had no other choice: there wasn’t a scenario where poor Luke was going to make it back to Dragonstone unharmed, not if Aemond were in sight. Not after what had been done to her uncle, which still angered him to no end, apparently.

&lt;<I fear your time here is wasted. Lord Baratheon has already declared his support for Aegon, and surely, he cannot take back his world>> She looked between her uncle and the man still mute on the throne, whose muscles were still all contracted in rage. Aemond’s offer had been indeed an offer of marriage, as she had thought. 

Visenya decided to take in his figure for a moment: he was tall, lean, and his leather clothes -riding gear, perhaps- were clean and dry, where hers were drenched by the storm outside, and her boots were covered in the mud that now flooded the yard. Her hair were equally as wet, and fell in loose waves attached to her face, neck and leathers, his looked like a straight soft curtain of silver silk. Aemond had been here for at least a day. A day he could have used to devise whatever plan to ensure his brother’s ass would sit on the throne at least a while longer. Because it was obvious to anyone that messengers would go on about every corner of the realm to ensure the support of the major houses.

She felt the grip of anxiety taking a hold of her stomach: what if he had anticipated them being here? After all, when not on Balerion’s back she wasn’t that big of a threat, definitely not to a warrior with his skills.

&lt;<He offered his hand in marriage to the eldest daughter of Borros>> Whispered Luke in confirmation. His tone still betrayed his fear, and broke her attention by the dark pit that her mind had become. She willed herself not to be hostage of her fears <&lt;worry not>> she whispered back, looking him in the eyes, <&lt;you should leave>> she said. Luke didn’t listen. 

Aemond’s hatred for her brothers was well known, especially for Luke, the one responsible for his, probably still very painful, injury. She noticed the way he eyes Lucerys every now and then, how he was completely trained on her brother’s every move, like a predator waiting to strike. 

&lt;<Oh>> She said, willing all of her nerves to calm down. Visenya lifted her upper lip, in a childish expression, <<then I shall order Balerion to burn the keep to the ground, and end this treason before it starts>> Aemond smirked, it was clear that he did not believe that she was actually thinking about it. Visenya was considering it as an option though. Yes, Rhaenyra wouldn’t be happy, on the contrary, she would be furious if she did, in fact, start this war. Yet Visenya couldn’t help but remembering her father’s words “you cannot allow this treachery to take root” Daemon had angrily said in the privacy of their chambers, is anger amplified ten folds  after the news of the stillbirth, “they have murdered Viserys, our daughter, any faithful Lord we had in the capital. They had signed their own death sentence. Or ours, if we do not act”. In stark contrast with his wife, Daemon would rejoice greatly if his beloved daughter started a war. And, at times, she felt much more like her father’s child rather than her mother’s.

She understood both sides though: Daemon was like the dragon, fiery, proud and untamable. Rahenyra was like that too, but she was a woman: considered unfit to rule only for the missing cock between her legs, she had grown to be wiser, calmer, prone to choose diplomacy over fire and blood. For she couldn’t afford becoming also the one who started this war, even though right now, battle seemed inevitable, Visenya could hear it, what everyone would start to whisper then Maegor the cruel come again, Maegor with tits. Yet she could see the truth in Daemon’s words, if left unchecked the Hightowers will eventually eat away any support her mother has now. Seven hells, they were already doing that. &lt;<Princess Visenya..>> Spoke Borros at last, uncertain of his own words.

The threat of Balerion seemed to have awakened him from his rage. He looked calmer now, paler. All redness faded from his face, his hands were not clutching the throne with the same strength, and, as she had imagined, she could see dried blood on the tips of fingers, where his nails had broken. He was old enough to have lived in the last year of the Old King’s reign, old enough to be at the great council in Harrenhall. Meaning that he had seen first hand the blasted ruin Balerion had made of the greatest keep that ever existed in Westeros. He saw what her dragon was capable of doing.

&lt;<I must assume that my uncle has promised you a wedding>> She said, playing ignorant. The high lord slowly nodded, turning his head towards his daughter. It was confirmation enough. She too looked again in that direction, only to find Aemond’s surprised expression. He knew what she was about to say, he probably thought that she would not actually go through with it.

&lt;<Yet he is not free to offer his hand in marriage>> She said with gritted teeth. Visenya reasoned that she could, indeed, walk out of the Round Halls, climb atop Balerion and order him to burn the keep to the ground. It was what Daemon would do. Rhaenyra, however, would try to be diplomatic. In one swift stroke Visenya could avoid the war for a while longer, in either case she would take the second largest dragon in the world out of the picture. But there could be a twisted, dark pleasure in turning Aemond against his family, just like Alicent and Otto had done.

&lt;<What do you mean?>> interrupted Borros, with an irritated tone. His daughter, Cassandra, if she recalled correctly, instinctively moved closer to him.

&lt;<In his wisdom, and with the hope it would bring unity back to our house, the late King Viserys, in his very last act as King, declared my betrothal to Aemond. His eldest unwed son, to me, the lawful heir to my mother’s throne>> The stormlord pursed his lip, he had been used and played, in the end, truly like a dog that had been commanded at need, yet not by Rhaenyra, but by the Greens. His pride wouldn’t allow him to let this go easily, or, at least she hoped so, <<does she speak the truth?>> he asked Aemond, rage once again gracing his features. Borros instinctively gripped the handles of the throne again, only to let go almost immediately. Probably because of the stinging pain of broker nails and ruined fingertips.

Visenya wasn’t happy to bring this up. In truth, amidst the sorrow for the loss of a grandsire, and the rage for the ease with which Otto and Alicent Hightower had usurped the throne, she had been relieved the day her grandmother had brought news from King’s Landing, for it meant that her betrothal to Aemond had no more reasons to be.

Yet now it seemed the only reasonable thing that would end this mess without bloodshed. She hoped that, at least, between a devastating war fought with dragons, rather than armies, and the prospect of Aemond eventually ruling the kingdoms by her side, the Hightowers would choose the latter. Even though she knew that a similar match had been bitterly refused by the queen dowager once.

She hoped that this one time she chose to be like her mother, the aftermath wouldn’t come to bite in the arse later.

&lt;<We do not need your armies, Lord Borros, for I’m sure you have been thought what had happen the last time Balerion had been sent to war against other dragons>> She looked at Aemond while speaking, the one she would be sent to kill should war break out, or the husband she would have to wed, <<we came to offer you peace, under the one true Queen of Westeros>>.

There was a long pause before anyone spoke out loud, many lords, or advisors, she didn’t care to know, spoke in hushed tones to Lord Baratheon, likely weighing their options. At last a guard came, from outside, given the pools of rainwater he left at every step, surely to confirm the presence of her dark monster within the castle walls. As if she could have appeared out of nowhere in any other way.

&lt;<Out, all of you>> Screamed at last the Stormlord, <<as I already said, the Stormlanders are not dogs to be whistled up at need>> Visenya guessed that this was the best result she would ask for. Borros would’n support Rhaenyra, but he wouldn’t either give his support to Aegon.

Once more she pushed Luke back, with more urgency now. 

As long as they were under Baratheon's roof, she knew Aemond couldn’t really harm him, or at least she hoped so. But once they were out it was another story entirely. Arrax, after all, could easily fit in either Balerion or Vhagar’s mouths.

Finally Lucerys understood the message, and turned on his heels, followed suit by some of the guards that were stationed at their side. He quietly bowed to Borros, a gesture of respect that had Visenya raise a brow, and started to walk outside.

&lt;&lt;Wait>> Called the velvet voice of Aemond. It sent a cold chill down her spine, <<my Lord Strong>> -don’t turn- Visenya angrily thought, -keep walking- yet of course her brother had to stop and turn her head.

&lt;<Did you two really think that you fly about the realm, trying to steal my brother’s throne without consequences?>> Visenya’s hand gripped the dagger she had hidden, praying that dark, hateful Aemond wouldn’t consider harming a woman. Not that she was afraid of her life, she had quit feeling any sense of self preservation the night she had claimed Balerion, no, she just knew that if Aemond went for Luke and ignored her, she could have an opening to push her blade right in his black heart.

&lt;<Is it truly stealing though, when you are merely taking back what is yours by right?>> She said, stepping in the middle of the fight against all common sense. It took one look towards her brother to realize how terrified he was of Aemond. And that sent her mind spiraling again: if she wasn’t fast enough? <<Do you think yourself so inadequate, incapable, of ruling to spit like that on the prospect of sitting the Iron Throne by my side?>> She saw then the anger in his one eye, Visenya had definitely hit a sore spot. 

In one swift, graceful movement Aemond stepped closer to hte siblings, grabbed his own dagger and removed his eyepatch. Revealing his ruined eye. The scar, still looking red and fresh despite the years passed, covered half of his handsome face, the eyelids of his missing eye had been cut open, she noted, and instead of an eyeball, or a dark hole, a glowing sapphire was nestled in his orb.

She would have considered it bald, even beautiful, were it not for the murderous gaze on the remaining eye.

What possessed her to move she didn’t know, Visenya heard Luke stating that &lt;<they came as messengers, not warriors>>, and for as much as she loved her brother, it sounded too like a pathetic and fearful attempt at a quick escape. So maybe she acted because, despite the fact that Luke was trained with the sword and she wasn’t, she felt like he wouldn’t be able to cause harm to anyone. She quickly found herself inches from Aemond’s face. Her dagger pressed on the soft skin of his cheekbone, right under his good eye. Visenya was sure that, to protect her loved ones, she could turn into a cold killer. She was, after all, Daemon’s daughter.

Visenya willed herself to set her gaze on Aemond’s remaining eye, and banned all fears and all sense of doubts from her mind, &lt;<I may have sworn not to fight>> she whispered, which was a lie. She had sworn to behave, her mother not thinking she could ever pick up a blade and use it. How naive of her. <<But I will defend myself, and my brother>> her tone was cold and angry, and her words were underlined by the added pressure she put on the blade. Aemond didn’t move, his breath appeared calm, and even, yet he didn’t dare move a muscle. Not when she threatened to blind him forever, <<Balerion made no such promises, and if my wellbeing is threatened…>> she had no need to complete the sentence. For how terrifying and huge Vhagar was, the Black Dread was ten fold. And he craved the fight. Everyone knew that.

The words, or her tone, she couldn’t say, awakened her uncle from his trance. Visenya registered the hushed footsteps of Luke, taking the bait and leaving while Aemond was distracted, just like she had told him to. &lt;<Seems like your strong brother doesn’t share your courage, princess>> Aemond mocked when he noticed his missing nephew. They were so close now that she could feel his breath caressing her skin. He slowly allowed his hand to fall, and sheathed his dagger with a blatant gesture, to be sure that she could see it. After a long moment she decided to imitate him, and she didn’t miss the relieved huff that escaped Aemond’s lips. <<It is good to see that you can be made to see reason, uncle>> Visenya said not breaking the stare, and not moving a muscle, <<it would be a great inconvenience for me having to carry you around completely blind, should we truly become husband and wife>> he smiled, that sardonic, infuriating smile that she couldn’t understand the meaning of, he looked both furious and turned on. Visenya couldn’t decide what scared her the most.

&lt;<I am sure>> He said, his voice like velvet, never betraying any emotions, <<your offer comes with terms, niece>> Visenya took a moment to think. She hadn’t thought this through when she spoke the words in front of Borros Baratheon, she hadn’t thought Aemond might actually consider the scenario, and that is why he asked. Or maybe, he liked the idea of himself sitting on the Iron Throne in place of the brother she knew relentlessly bullied him in their youth, alongside her own brothers. Or maybe he understood that he wouldn’t win the Stormlands today, and was merely buying time.

&lt;<Your brother will bend the knee to the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms>> Visenya said in her most stern and cold tone, <<my mother is willing to welcome back her siblings, and Helaena’s children, back into her heart, for she is sure>> she decided to put emphasis into the words that Visenya heard her mother speak to the messenger she had sent to King’s Landing, <<that you have been misguided by the greed of one man. Any lord and knight who will swear fealty to their Queen will be pardoned. Our marriage will seal the deal, and in time, when I will ascend the throne, we shall rule together, like the Old king and his good Queen Alisanne>> She thought her demands would be met with a grin, or laughter. Either way she expected Aemond to dismiss them, just like Otto Hightower had dismissed any of her mother's terms on the bridge of Dragonstone.

Yet Aemond seemed to be considering it, &lt;<I swear that there shall not be any treachery, on my own blood, or on any gods you choose to believe in>> it felt like the right thing to say. She couldn't know whether her uncle was a pious man, but her mother obviously was, considering how she had redecorated the Red Keep, so maybe swearing her intentions to their gods they so much loved might make the offer a little more considerable. Still, Visenya made a mental note that all of those hideous godly decorations would be the first things to disappear once they took back her mother’s throne.

&lt;<I shall bring your terms to the king>> Visenya rolled her eyes, and decided to switch to High Valiryan so that they were the only ones who would understand, was Aemond truly so thick? What game was he playing? <<*I remember the way he treated you, and I’m sure you do as well. Do you really think he would hand you over the throne?*>> Aemond opened and closed his mouth. He didn’t know how to respond, or rather, he did but he didn’t wish to speak the words, no to her of all people. Her uncle’s silence showed that this was a weak spot, and finding that out emboldened her. so Visenya stepped even closer to him, and rested her hand on his muscular bicep, <<*It is us that are offering you absolute power, not your brother, not your grandsire, not you mother. Rhaenyra is, and I. Remember that when your family will refuse the terms we offered and chose war and death rather than seeing the more capable brother on the Iron Throne*>> Visenya knew she had hit a bare nerve when she noticed how strongly he was biting his lower lip. Aemond did want the throne, now she could see it, in the way the light in his eye changed, and in the way he was forcing himself not to speak. He thought himself better than Aegon, probably better than Rhaenyra too. He thought himself Jahaerys born again, probably. <<*That is why it is to you, that I was instructed to offer our terms, and no one else*>> A lie. But she couldn’t help herself from trying, not when Visenya knew he was truly beginning to consider the terms. She couldn’t let the opportunity slip.

Visenya at last removed her hand from his harm and offered it to him, he immediately took it  and kissed her knuckles. &lt;<Do not make me wait long for a response. Uncle>> She purred. He nodded, a quick, elegant gesture, and proceeded to leave the round hall of Storm’s End. When Aemond was far away enough, she let out the big breath she had held up until now. Apparently, they all survived.

The rain outside was pouring so strongly it was hard so anything past one’s nose, and the winds were so strong that on two occasions, on the short trek where her dragon was waiting, she thought it would send her tumbling on the muddy ground. 

How people chose to willingly live in such a place, was beyond her comprehension.

When she made it to where Balerion was waiting, a short walk that took twice, if not trice, as much time as it should have, she found the now familiar tall figure of Aemond standing still before him. She was about to shoot a snarky remark at him, when she realized the reason why he stood where he stood.

Balerion was blocking his way to Vhagar.

She was familiar with the old she-dragon: it had been her aunt’s for a long time. She remembered admiring them fly together in the skies above Dragonstone and Driftmark, she remembered standing nose up, somewhere on one of the two islands, and remaining absolutely speechless at how big Vhagar was, how huge, compared to all of the other dragons she had known.

Now, even in her vast, scary form, she looked almost tiny, in comparison to her black monster.

He was doing that on purpose, she could sense it. Balerion was not scared of Vhagar. In truth, he was not scared of anything, and how could he, when he was the largest living creature in the world? He could kill Aemond right then and there, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Even Vhagar would only be able to stand and watch. From the low rumbling that was coming from the she-dragon it was evident that she understood this as well, and she hated it.

&lt;<Tell you dragon to move, princess>> Said Aemond, when she got close enough for him to sense her presence.

She could let him do it, Visenya realized, she could let Balerion kill Aemond, and nothing would happen. The dragon was known for acting out of his own accord, no one has been able to bend his will ever since the death of the conqueror. That’s why it has been forbidden to try and bond to him ever since the death of his last rider, princess Aerea. So, no one would blame her if Balerion killed Aemond, who could testify that she gave the order?

&lt;<He rarely does what’s ordered to him>> She responded, still uncertain, <<unless i order him to kill. Then he grows obedient like a hound all of a sudden>> Visenya had never killed someone who had a name. She had been to stepstones recently, with her father and Lord Corlys, to crush the triarchy for the second, and hopefully final, time. She couldn’t avoid it, being the rider of the largest dragon in the world. Yet the men she had ordered to kill were nothing more than nameless ants, they were not her uncle, whom for good or worse she had known her whole life.

She couldn’t bring herself to do it. Balerion huffed, bored. Visenya decided to turn once last time towards her uncle, right before starting to climb atop Balerion, &lt;<the next time I see you, uncle, could be on our wedding day. Or on a battlefield. Either way, good luck on what’s to come>>.

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[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon VI - Wrecked.

Summary:

The dragons dance and a Regent is crowned, but betrayal and tragedy soon follow.

Warning(s): Angst, Fear, Threats, Language, Uncle/Niece Incest, Slight Smut, Dragon Battle, Injury.

* OTHER WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT *

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: - 3873

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

T.W - Poisoning.

Vaelys awoke to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, her senses slowly returning from the depths of sleep. As she stirred, her first instinct was to check on her newborn daughter, Sovia. But as her eyes scanned the room, panic began to rise within her like a storm.

Sovia wasn't in her cot.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she bolted upright, scanning the room frantically. "Sovia?" she called out, her voice trembling with fear.

And then she saw Aegon, stood by the window, holding Sovia in his arms. Vaelys felt a surge of unease grip her heart. She didn't trust Aegon, not completely. There was something about him, an aura of darkness that seemed to cloak his every action.

"What are you doing?" Vaelys demanded, her voice sharp with anxiety.

Aegon turned to face her, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I just wanted to meet my niece," he said smoothly, his tone seemingly innocent.

But Vaelys wasn't fooled. She could sense the underlying currents of deceit in his words. She rose from the bed, her movements quick and purposeful.

"Give her back," she demanded, her voice firm and resolute. She extended her arms towards Sovia, her maternal instinct kicking into overdrive.

Aegon hesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. But then, with a shrug, he handed Sovia back to Vaelys, his smile never faltering.

As Vaelys cradled her daughter close, a wave of relief washed over her. She cast a wary glance at Aegon.

Vaelys felt a shiver run down her spine as Aegon invaded her personal space, his gaze lingering on her body in a way that made her skin crawl. She could feel his eyes tracing every curve, every contour, with a hunger that sent alarm bells ringing in her mind.

Uncomfortable and unnerved, Vaelys took a step back, instinctively creating distance between them. She could feel her heart racing, a sense of unease settling heavily in the pit of her stomach.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. She tried to maintain her composure, but the predatory gleam in Aegon's eyes unnerved her.

Aegon's lips curled into a sly smile, his gaze unwavering as he continued to appraise her with unsettling intensity. "Just admiring the view," he replied casually, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

“Stay away from me".

Aegon's smile faltered slightly at her words, his expression shifting from amusement to something darker, something that sent a chill down Vaelys' spine.

Suddenly the door opened and Vaelys breathed a sigh of relief as she caught sight of Aemond.

"Leave, Aegon. Now" commanded Aemond, his voice firm.

Aegon's lips curled into a disdainful smirk, his eyes glinting with mockery as he regarded his brother. "Ah, brother," he sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Congratulations on the birth of the babe, shame it’s not a son, maybe on the next go you’ll get it right”.

Aemond felt the sting of Aegon's words like a slap to the face, but he refused to let his brother's taunts rattle him. Instead, he focused on Vaelys, his concern for her well-being outweighing any anger he felt towards Aegon.

"Vaelys, are you alright?" asked Aemond, his voice softer now as he approached her.

Vaelys nodded, her eyes flickering with gratitude as she leaned into Aemond's reassuring touch.

With a steely glare, Aemond turned back to Aegon. "Leave," he repeated, his voice laced with authority. "And don't you dare speak of my daughter in such a manner again."

Aegon's smirk faltered for a moment, a glimmer of surprise flashing across his face at Aemond's unwavering resolve. But he quickly composed himself, his expression twisting back into one of derision as he turned and stalked out of the room.

As Aemond wrapped his arm protectively around his wife and daughter.

Vaelys turned to Aemond, her eyes still wide with residual fear from Aegon's presence.

"How did you know Aegon was here?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly with uncertainty.

Aemond sighed, his expression softening as he reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from Vaelys' face.

"Ceci saw Aegon," he explained quietly, his tone tinged with relief. "She came to find me immediately."

Vaelys nodded, a sense of gratitude washing over her. "Thank the gods for Ceci," she murmured, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.

As the tension in the room gradually dissipated, the door creaked open, and Ceci stepped inside. Her gentle presence seemed to bring a sense of calm with it, and Vaelys' eyes lit up with gratitude as she caught sight of her maid.

"Ceci," Vaelys exclaimed softly, her voice filled with relief. "Thank you"

Ceci's smile widened at Vaelys' words, her eyes shining with warmth. "Of course, Princess," she replied, her tone gentle.

Vaelys nodded, her heart swelling with appreciation for Ceci's unwavering support. "I don't know what I would do without you," she admitted, her voice sincere.

Ceci's smile softened even further at Vaelys' words. "You don't have to worry, Princess" she reassured her. "I'll always be here to help you through whatever comes your way."

Six Months Later -

Vaelys took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she prepared to broach the topic with Aemond. She found him in their chambers, poring over a map spread out on the table. Clearing her throat softly to get his attention, she approached him with hesitant steps.

"Aemond, may I speak with you for a moment?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Aemond looked up from the map, concern immediately flickering in his eyes as he noticed the apprehension on Vaelys' face. "Of course, my love. What is it?" he replied, setting aside the parchment, and giving her his full attention.

Vaelys took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before speaking.

"I'm with child again," Vaelys confessed, her words hanging in the air between them.

Aemond's initial surprise softened into a warm smile. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles. "That's wonderful news, Vaelys," he said, his voice filled with genuine happiness. "Another blessing to our family."

But he could see the worry still lingering in her eyes, and he squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I understand your concerns, my dear. Our first daughter is still so young, but we will manage”.

Aemond pulled Vaelys into his embrace and held her close as he whispered words of comfort and reassurance.

Vaelys felt a wave of relief wash over her at Aemond's words, a sense of reassurance flooding her heart. She leaned into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his love enveloping her.

As much as Aemond wished to remain sequestered away with his wife and daughter too celebrate their good news.

The war between the Greens and the Blacks still raged.

Something had to change, Daemon still held Harrenhal and Rhaenyra remained on Dragonstone.

Aegon had grown tired of his grandsire’s inaction and removed him from his position as Hand of the King and temporarily promoted Ser Criston Cole instead.

The former Kings guard offered a more aggressive strategy.

Admittedly Aemond was reluctant to leave Vaelys and Sovia, but he knew that he couldn’t exactly refuse, he rode the largest dragon in the world, and he was expected to defend his King.

The night before he was due to leave, Aemond spent time holding his daughter in his arms, savouring her presence, as he pressed gentle kisses to her messy mop of silver curls.

After Sovia was taken to the nursery for the night, Aemond took his wife to bed.

“Tell me you want me-“ growled Aemond as he ran the head of his cock through her wet folds.

“I want you” exclaimed Vaelys.

“Tell me you need me” whispered Aemond as he sheathed himself inside her.

“I need you-“

“Tell me you love me” muttered Aemond withdrawing and then thrusting forward.

“I love you –“ gasped Vaelys.

Aemond fucked Vaelys many times that night, finally passing out in a haze of exhausted satisfaction.

After he fell asleep with his splayed across her stomach, Vaelys clung to her husband, she was fearful of what Aemond was about to face. Allies that readily went to battle in support of their Queen, or her mother herself on the back of her dragon Syrax. The image of Aemond and her mother facing off against one another on dragon back made Vaelys want to be sick. Her heart and her head were in a constant battle as she knew that one day, she would be forced to choose between Aemond and her mother.

The next morning, Vaelys bid a tearful farewell to Aemond before he made his way to Vhagar and took to the skies alongside Aegon and his dragon Sunfyre.

First they reached Rosby and Stokeworth, whose lords were Blacks but had been captured in King's Landing during the initial coup, and agreed to bend the knee in order to spare their own lives. Having secured their submission, Aegon's host passed bloodlessly through both castles and even added their strength to his own.

During the sack of Duskendale Lord Gunthor Darklyn was beheaded for treason. Most of his household knights submitted to King Aegon, although a few decided to follow Gunthor in death.

Then they marched to Rooks Rest, where a trap was set for the Blacks.

Lord Staunton closed the gates of Rook's Rest, but he was unable to prevent Criston from burning his fields or killing his smallfolk and livestock. He asked for assistance from Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen by sending a raven to Dragonstone.

Nine days later, Rhaenys Targaryen and her dragon, Meleys, arrived along with Baela and her dragon Moondancer to aid Lord Staunton.

With a thunderous roar, Vhagar and Meleys surged towards each other, claws outstretched and jaws agape. The clash of their bodies echoed across the battlefield as they grappled and tore at each other with tooth and claw, their roars drowning out the sounds of battle below.

Meanwhile, Aegon atop the golden Sunfyre, engaged in a deadly dance with Baela and her dragon, Moondancer. The two dragons twisted and turned through the air, their riders locked in a deadly game of wits and skill.

Sunfyre's golden scales gleamed in the sunlight as he unleashed torrents of searing flame upon his foe, while Moondancer danced and weaved with an elegance unlike any dragon before her.

Meanwhile, Aemond couldn't shake the sense of reluctance that gnawed at his conscience.

"Rhaenys," he called out, his voice lost amidst the roar of dragons and the clash of steel below. But she didn't hear him, or perhaps chose not to acknowledge his words.

Their dragons clashed in a whirlwind of fury, talons slashing and jaws snapping, each seeking to gain the upper hand. Aemond fought with all his skill and might, but with every blow he struck, he found himself holding back, unwilling to unleash the full extent of Vhagar's wrath.

As the clash between Vhagar and Meleys raged on, Aemond's gaze momentarily shifted towards another part of the chaotic battlefield. There, he witnessed Aegon and Sunfyre, gaining the upper hand against Baela and Moondancer.

He saw the peril that Baela faced, her dragon Moondancer faltering under Sunfyre's relentless assault. Despite the fact that they were on opposite sides, Aemond couldn’t bare the thought of his wife’s agony if something were to happen to Baela.

With a decisive gesture, Aemond directed Vhagar's colossal form towards Aegon and Sunfyre, his mind racing with the urgency of his actions. As Vhagar surged forward, Aemond's expression was resolute, his eyes burning with a fierce determination.

"Forgive me, brother," he muttered under his breath, knowing full well the consequences of his actions.

With a thunderous roar, Vhagar and Sunfyre collided in a spectacular clash of titans, their massive forms entwined in a deadly embrace. Aemond gritted his teeth against the impact, the force threatening to tear him from his saddle. But in that moment, his only thought was to save Baela from certain doom.

The collision sent shockwaves rippling through the air, with Aemond fighting to maintain control of Vhagar’s huge bulk as the ancient she dragon pushed Moondancer out of the way, forcing the much younger dragon to make an awkward hasty landing.

Baela stared in wide-eyed astonishment, her mind struggling to comprehend what had just occurred, Aemond had saved her. The same man who had kidnapped and defiled her sister had come to her aid in her moment of need.

Slowly, the reality of the situation began to sink in, and Baela's gaze turned towards Aemond, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deceit or ulterior motive. Yet she found none.

With a nod of reluctant gratitude, Baela turned her attention back to her grandmother at Meleys who was circling above.

The impact had left him dazed, momentarily disoriented amidst the chaos of battle.

But even in his dazed state, Sunfyre remained a formidable force to be reckoned with. With a defiant roar, he shook off the effects of the collision, his wings beating with renewed vigour as he turned to face his next adversary.

Rhaenys and Meleys, loomed before them, their eyes burning with a fierce determination. Aegon gritted his teeth, steeling himself for the inevitable clash as Sunfyre surged forward to meet them.

The clash of dragons was swift and savage, a whirlwind of claws, teeth, and searing flame. Sunfyre and Meleys clashed in a deadly dance, their massive forms twisting and turning through the air as they sought to gain the upper hand.

Aegon fought with all his skill and cunning, directing Sunfyre's every move with unwavering resolve. Yet even as they battled fiercely, a sense of futility gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. He knew that in the end, only one of them would emerge victorious.

Then, in a blinding flash of searing flame and splitting flesh, the unthinkable happened. Sunfyre and Meleys, locked in a deadly embrace, spiralled downward towards the earth below, their roars of defiance silenced forever in the jaws of death.

As Sunfyre and Meleys plummeted towards the earth, Aegon’s world became a blur of searing pain and deafening chaos. The ground rushed up to meet them with terrifying speed, each moment stretching into an eternity of agony.

The impact was catastrophic. The ground shook with the force of their collision, sending up a cloud of dust and debris as dragon and rider crashed into the ground. Aegon's screams were lost amidst the roar of the flames and the sounds of breaking earth.

When the dust finally settled, Aegon lay amidst the wreckage, his body broken and battered by the violence of their fall. His armour was scorched and twisted; his flesh seared by the blistering heat of dragon fire. Burns marred his skin, agony coursing through every fibre of his being.

Aegon's leg throbbed with a fiery intensity, shattered bone protruding through torn flesh. His ribs screamed in protest with every ragged breath. His arm hung limp at his side, broken and useless, as he struggled to make sense of the devastation that surrounded him.

As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded into the distance, Aemond surveyed the aftermath of the catastrophic clash. The ground was littered with the broken remnants men and the bodies of Sunfyre and Meleys.

Yet his eye was soon drawn to another sight, there, amidst the shattered remnants of Sunfyre and Meleys, lay his brother, Aegon, broken and bloodied by the violence of their fall.

Aemond's heart clenched with a mixture of bitterness and resignation as he beheld the sight of his fallen brother.

For a fleeting moment, Aemond wavered on the precipice of indecision. The bitterness that had simmered between them threatened to consume him, a silent voice whispering in his ear to leave his brother to suffer in his agony.

But as he stood there, his gaze locked upon his injured brother, a wave of unexpected compassion surged within him. Despite their differences, despite the wounds that had torn them apart, Aegon was still his brother.

With a heavy heart, Aemond dismounted from Vhagar's back and approached his fallen brother, his footsteps heavy with the weight of his decision. He stood over Aegon's broken form; his expression unreadable as he beheld the extent of his injuries.

"Aegon," he said, his voice a low, rumbling growl.

Aegon's eyes flickered open, pain etched upon his face as he gazed up at his brother. "Help me, Aemond," he pleaded, his voice raw with agony. "Please, I beg of you”.

"Very well," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I will help you. But know this, Aegon. This changes nothing between us."

Even as Aemond surveyed his brother's injuries, his gaze drifted towards another figure amidst the wreckage. Baela stood nearby, her eyes filled with concern as she looked upon her grandmother, Rhaenys, who lay injured and helpless upon the ground.

Aemond watched as Baela knelt beside Rhaenys, her hands gentle as she tended to her wounds, her dragon Moondancer hovering nearby.

"Baela," he called out, his voice carrying across the battlefield, "You need to act swiftly. Get Rhaenys onto the back of Moondancer and fly away as fast as you can."

Baela turned towards Aemond, her expression a mixture of surprise and apprehension as she took in his words. "Vaelys-Is she ok?”

Aemond nodded his head, his gaze unwavering as he smiled, "She is well” he replied. "But you need to leave as Cole will be here any minute now and I cannot guarantee your safety if he find’s you here."

Baela's eyes widened with realization as she understood the gravity of the situation. Without another word, she turned towards Moondancer and Rhaenys, determination flashing in her eyes as she moved to assist her grandmother.

As Baela helped Rhaenys onto Moondancer's back, Aemond approached them, his voice low yet resolute. "Fly swiftly, Baela," he urged. "For the sake of my wife, I cannot let any harm come to you”.

Baela nodded, her grip firm on Moondancer's reins as she prepared to take flight. "Thank you and tell my sister that I miss her”.

With a final nod, Aemond stepped back, watching as Moondancer spread her wings and soared into the sky, carrying Baela and Rhaenys to safety. As they disappeared into the distance, Aemond turned his attention to the approaching sound of horses.

After they returned to Kings Landing, the Maester’s assessed Aegon’s injuries, and it was decided that he was far too injured to properly serve the realm as its King.

So, the decision was made to crown Aemond as regent until Aegon recovered.

Vaelys stood with Sovia cradled in her arms as she watched Criston place the conquerors crown on Aemond’s head.

As he sat on the Iron Throne, the Lords present lowered themselves to one knee and pledged their support to Aemond Targaryen Prince Regent of the Seven Kingdoms.

Immediately after he was crowned, Aemond began to make plans to seize Harrenhal.

“Without Daemon, Rhaenyra’s supporters will desert her” urged Aemond.

“Your Grace, forget Harrenhal. We should attack Dragonstone immediately, no doubt word of Aegon’s injuries will have reached Rhaenyra’s ear. We need to act now.” said Otto.

“No-Harrenhal is the priority” replied Aemond dismissively.

Otto and some of the other council members exchanged concerned glances, at Aemond’s refusal to attack Dragonstone.

“You are allowing your feelings for that girl to cloud your judgement”.

“That girl is my wife, and I will not have you speak against her” snapped Aemond.

“Your mother warned you about getting too close boy” said Otto sternly.

“So, I should keep the mother of my child at arm’s length and never allow myself to love her”.

“Love?” questioned Alicent.

“Love is a weakness. It makes people vulnerable,” said Otto.

“I’m not some puppet you can manipulate for your own gain, I will not authorize an attack on Dragonstone unless it’s necessary. Do you understand?” exclaimed Aemond.

“Yes, Your Grace” replied Otto.

“Good-now what is our standing after the losses at Rooks Rest?” asked Aemond, ignroing the sour look on his grandsire's face, or the worried glance his mother shared with Lord Strong.

Inside a dimly lit chamber, Larys Strong and Alicent sit across from each other at a polished wooden table, the only illumination coming from a few flickering candles. Larys is composed, his gaze sharp and calculating. Alicent, equally poised, wears a subtle frown of concern.

“Your Grace I must express my apprehension regarding Vaelys' growing influence over Prince Aemond”.

“Vaelys is my son’s wife” replied Alicent.

“Indeed, but one cannot help but notice the extent of her sway over the prince. It's-concerning”

“You imply that Vaelys might lead Aemond astray?” asked Alicent frowning.

“I merely suggest that an unchecked influence can sometimes cloud judgment. Aemond is young, impressionable. He needs guidance from those who have the family's best interests at heart”.

“-And you believe that Vaelys might not have such interests in mind?”

“I speak only of probabilities, Your Grace. We cannot afford to take chances with the future of House Targaryen”.

“No, indeed we cannot” muttered Alicent a thoughtful expression crossing over her face.

Silence lingers in the room as the weight of their conversation hangs between them. Larys watches Alicent closely, detecting a flicker of uncertainty in her demeanour.

Perhaps it is time to-address this matter, discreetly, of course” offered Larys.

“-And how would you propose we address it? asked Alicent.

“ With utmost discretion, Your Grace. We must ensure the stability of your house, no matter the cost, Aemond will come to understand in time, that sometimes sacrifices must be made. That the needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few”.

Alicent's expression remains inscrutable for a moment before she inclines her head in a subtle nod. Larys interprets the gesture as consent, and a faint, satisfied smile plays at the corners of his lips.

With an unspoken understanding between them, Larys and Alicent conclude their meeting, each with their own plans set in motion.

Later that night after dining with Aemond, Vaelys insisted on braiding her husbands hair after he’d bathed, she knew that he had been under a lot of strain since being crowned regent and this simple, yet affectionate gesture was enough to sooth his mind.

As she approached the vanity, she winced clutching her stomach as a searing pain radiated through her body, her features twisting into a grimace of agony.

Her once steady breaths now came in ragged gasps, the air feeling like shards of glass as she struggled to fill her lungs.

Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, a testament to the fever that swept over her like a relentless wildfire.

Every movement was a colossal effort, her muscles protesting against a relentless assault from within.

A wave of dizziness crashed over Vaelys, causing her to sway on unsteady legs, her fingers clutching the wood of the table for support.

Nausea churned in the pit of her stomach, threatening to expel whatever remained inside.

“I-I don’t feel so-“ exclaimed Vaelys as she collapsed to the ground.

She couldn’t think of anything except the pain, gods it was like her insides were being twisted upon themselves, she felt a warm wetness between her legs and began sobbing.

“A-Aemond” cried Vaelys grasping mindlessly for her husband.

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[burynr08]

Blood Ties and Betrayal: Book Four - Chapter 9

The Fourth Dragon

Severus Snape x OC

Also available on ff.net, Wattpad, Quotev, and Webnovel

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