thedeathlysallows

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (11)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: And maybe it was ego's swinging

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Developing Stockholm Syndrome, Aemma is becoming an unreliable narrator. Simp!Aemond appears again (not that he really ever leaves lol). Smut, fingering, religion kink, not sub!Aemond but he does beg a bit, oral (f!receiving)

(We've reached the Alys Rivers arc and it'll probably take a few chapters to settle. Also, we've shifted to this song for the second half of the story.)

Tag list: @callsignwidow

"You know how much I love you," Aemond whispers in your ear as the candles flicker out, plunging your bedchamber into darkness. His arms wrap around your waist and hold you in a vice grip against the hard edges of his body. "Enough with the punishment."

You can't help but scoff. "Punishment? Tell me, my dear husband, how are you the one being punished when I'm the one expected to sit back and watch my family be hunted into extinction?"

"I've apologized countless times for Lucerys."

"Yes, of course you have. All of you have, save for Aegon and that scheming snake of a man you call grandfather. All everyone does is apologize to me."

"What more do you need? What will end this?"

"Give me your other eye."

"What?"

Aemond looks at you, disbelief coloring his sharp features. You stare back, unblinking. Moments pass by in silence as the two of you take each other in. You aren't sure what exactly triggers it, but your lower lip quivers and tears spring to your eyes.

"I don't mean it. Not really. I don't know why I said it..." You choke out a sob and bury your face in his chest. Aemond's hand immediately goes to your hair as he comforts you.

He knew you didn't mean- you would never be so vicious- but the comment was still jarring nonetheless. Aemond knew you would never mean such a thing, but there's still a slight tremor in his hand as he pets you gently. He's worked so hard to get to this point, to have you in his arms, and he feels like he can see the end of it all before it's barely even begun.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me." The tears won't stop no matter how hard you try.

A small flicker of hope flickers in Aemond's chest. "Could you be pregnant?"

"It hasn't been long enough."

"It's been two months at this point. We've both been performing our duties-"

"How clinical." You look up at him wryly, feeling uncertain of his reaction to your outburst. You really hadn't meant to say that to him. You were just so angry and then so desperately sad when you realized how hurtful you'd been.

Aemond smiles down at you indulgently, tilting your chin to press your lips to his. "Shall I be more romantic then?"

Your stomach churns violently in direct competition with the heat growing between your thighs. You love Aemond- at least you think you do- but you also love your mother and brothers. There's a part of you still lost to mourning. You've heard nothing from anyone, locked away inside your ivory tower in the Keep, only allowed news from Aemond's mouth directly. (Or Aegon's when he sends Aemond off some place or another, but even that's becoming less frequent as Aegon becomes more and more obsessed with being King.)

"You? Romantic? Maybe if the Conqueror himself returned." The joke comes easily. Joking with Aemond has always been easy. You can do that. You can tell jokes and make him smile because you like his smile, and because it's safer to distract him than fuck him.

You still keep your master plan in the back of your mind: let all of them think they've tamed you until you can find a way back to your mother's side. When you came up with your plan you didn't anticipate it would become harder and harder to pretend with each passing day. You didn't anticipate actually loving Aemond, nor did you anticipate Aemond's love for you being real.

It's terrifying to feel your grip slowly loosening.

Aemond's voice calls you back from your thoughts while he gently rolls you under him. "I can be romantic if that's what you need. I'll be anything you need. Just let me in."

"Aemond-"

"Please, don't fight me anymore. Stop pushing me away. I adore you, why can't you see that?" His fingers dig in to the fabric of your nightgown, pulling and tugging until it's over your head, discarded on the floor by the unlit fire place. Your skin feels like it's on fire as his gaze travels over your body, hands following each curve and dip.

"So pretty," he whispers adoringly.

"Don't. Please."

Aemond's eye flickers up to yours. He still keeps the patch on, neither one of you fully ready to embrace the consequences of the past when the present is so precarious. You swallow thickly, unable to look away as his hand creeps up to your breast. His fingers toy with the soft buds there, teasing your nipples until you're almost sore. A soft whine escapes you and you see Aemond's face darken.

"Don't what?" He finally says. "Don't worship you as the goddess you are?"

Aemond bends his head to kiss just under your breasts, reveling in the feel of your soft stomach as he drags his lips lower. If you were burning before, you're positively on fire now, desperate for whatever Aemond will do next. He reaches your thighs with a moan, nipping at the delicate skin there.

"Let me die on your altar," he says. "I'll do it happily, over and over."

Your fingertips thread through his silky hair and you pull his face to your cunt. Aemond breathes out a small laugh that sends a puff of warm air over your sensitive pussy. He wastes no time, diving between your folds like a starving man. His tongue is absolutely sinful as he licks you, working a magic you never would've expected from him.

"Aemond, yes, right there." You moan out the words, knowing how much he loves the praise. And you're more than happy to give it as his long fingers enter you, pumping in time with each lick he gives your clit.

"Tell me you love me," Aemond demands while he keeps thrusting and curling his fingers inside your cunt. "Tell me you're mine."

You nod, his words not fully registering, but you repeat them anyway. "I'm y-yours... l-love you... so much."

"Mmm, such a good girl. You've always been so, so good, haven't you?" Aemond's fingers brush against that most sensitive spot inside you and you arch your back off the bed, screaming his name like a litany of prayers over and over.

"Look at you. Haven't even put my cock in you and your already coming." He pulls you into a lazy kiss, all tongue and teeth and you don't mind at all. "I've always believed you're the Maiden come to save me."

Aemond buries his face in your neck, nipping and biting, leaving marks you know the whole court will see. "Will you save me? Absolve my sins?"

You sigh, fingernails digging into his back as you hook your legs over his waist. "Aemond...please, please, please."

"Forgive me, Maiden." Aemond pants the words into your ear, his hips jerking when your warm cunt drags across his cock. "Forgive me so I can worship you properly, please."

You nod, desperate to feel him inside you. "I forgive you."

With a heady sigh he sinks into you, his cock stretching you out in the most exquisite way. You see stars behind your eye lids as he begins fucking you, pounding his cock deep inside your cunt. He's ruthless and desperate in his movements as he watches you come undone beneath him, the very image of Heaven.

"I love you," Aemond moans. "Ah, fuck, I love you..."

You whine desperately, completely at his mercy as he cums inside you and fills your cunt. You have the brief thought that maybe this time you are pregnant, but Aemond is there before you can pursue the thought further. He brushes the hair from your face and kisses your nose before laying down beside you and pulling you close.

"Aegon is sending me to Harrenhal in the morning. I asked to take you with me, but the Council convinced him it would be a mistake. I promise I'll return as soon as I'm able."

"Harrenhal..." You can see Harwin Strong's face in your mind's eye, so similar to that of your brothers'...

Aemond strokes your face worriedly. "Please don't lock yourself in this room while I'm gone."

But you can't promise anything.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you

[thedeathlysallows]

I have… so many opinions on ttpd and none of them end well for Taylor

#I like her music #but I am so done with her as a person #maybe even her music too at this point #at least her new stuff

[thedeathlysallows]

[thedeathlysallows]

me, if you even care

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (10)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon; Aegon Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: Red blood, white snow

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Aemond confesses Luke's fate. Aegon is a sneaky bastard. Sexual assault.

Tag List: @callsignwidow

"Be careful, my darling!" Laenor, your father, calls out in worry as you dash ahead of him. "Dragons can be dangerous."

"Not Vermithor! He isn't mean, he's just lonely and sad because no one understands him." You cross your arms and whirl around to face Laenor who simply sighs in the face of your five year old stubbornness.

"You look like your Aunt Laena when you do that."

"That's what grandfather says."

Laenor scoops you up in his arms and carries you the rest of the way to Vermithor's favorite resting spot: a large valley on the south side of the island. It's the perfect resting spot for him really. The size is perfect for the grumpy old dragon to rest his wings when he grows tired of the sky or his volcano.

That's where you happened upon him the first time. He was toying with some poor sheep before devouring it whole, and you could only stand and watch in awe. When he turned his massive head to meet your eyes upon hearing your shocked gasp you knew right away Vermithor was yours.

Your parents tried to argue with you, of course. They told you he was too old and you too inexperienced.

"Papa?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think Vermithor and Vhagar are friends? Mother says they're close in age."

Laenor chuckles at your question and says, "perhaps. Would you like them to be friends?"

You think for a minute, tapping your finger against your chin. "Yes, actually. I think they'd be very good friends. Maybe they'll even fall in love one day?"

"Maybe, my darling." Laenor puts you down as the two of you reach the top of the valley and kneels before you. You can see Vermithor just below watching you with an unspoken joy. "But for now I'm afraid you must wake up."

You frown. This isn't how the memory goes. "What?"

"Wake up, Aemma." Laenor's voice shifts and fear grips your heart.

"Papa?"

"Aemma, wake up!"

You bolt straight up in bed, pushing away the hands gripping your shoulders. Your heart thuds in your chest and your skin feels sticky from sweating in the warm summer air circulating your bedroom. Tears continue rolling down your cheeks. Aemond looks down at you with concern. You've been doing nothing but sleeping and crying since the coronation, and he isn't sure how to help you.

"Oh," you finally manage to say. "You've returned. How was Lord Baratheon."

"As stubborn as you'd expect." Aemond sits beside you, taking your hand in his. "I saw Lucerys at Storm's End."

You visibly perk up, desperate to hear anything about your family. "How is he?"

There are few people in Aemond's life that can read his expressions and read them truly. His mother, Helaena, and you. He knows he can't lie to you about what happened, but what else can he possibly say? Not a soul yet knows what happened between him and Lucerys because he couldn't have word of it getting back to you before he could tell you himself.

"Aemond?"

He flinches at the feeling of your hand caressing his cheek. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve you. You're too kind, too beautiful, too utterly pure for this world. He knows there isn't a possibility of forgiveness, but he can't live without you.

So Aemond takes a steadying breath and says, "there was an incident."

"What do you mean?"

"We departed Storm's End at the same time, but our dragons seemed to be under the impression it was a chase. Arrax attacked first and Vhagar followed suit. I tried to stop it, but neither dragon would listen."

You blink, drawing your hand away from Aemond's face. "Aemond, what are you trying to tell me?"

"Lucerys and Arrax perished. I never meant for things to get out of hand-"

The blood leaves your face and you're left with an icy, lightheaded feeling. "It doesn't fucking matter what you meant! My brother is dead!"

"He wasn't supposed to die!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, did you try telling him that?" The venom in your voice is almost tangible and you hope it's enough to burn Aemond. "Get out."

"Aemma-"

"I said get out!"

Rather than fight you, Aemond retreats slowly. "I'll leave you to mourn in peace, wife."

Just as you hoped your words burnt Aemond, his burn you in return. "Don't call me that."

"You are my wife. I understand you're hurt, but that won't change the truth."

You choke back a sob, saying, "please, Aemond. Just go."

"As you wish. I'll return after I've met with the council."

You want to tell him not to bother, but the words won't come. Nothing comes except the irresistible beckoning of sleep. That's what you'll do. You'll go back to sleep and maybe this time Luke will be there along with your father.

But sleep won't come despite the heaviness of your eyelids.

You toss back and forth miserably for what could be minutes or hours, you don't know.

In the distance you can faintly hear the door open and close. Footsteps approach the bed, weight dips and shifts on the mattress, hands grab your waist and turn you over, you bury your face in his chest and breathe in the familiar scent of Aegon.

"I sent Aemond to keep an eye on the City Watch as they train," Aegon explains as he strokes your hair.

You say nothing in return. You aren't stupid. You aren't naive. You understand exactly why Aegon keeps sending Aemond on all these various errands and it makes your blood boil. He still sees you as a toy to fight over, to win. Even in the shadow of your brother's death all Aegon cares about is using your body.

As if in silent agreement with your thoughts, Aegon's hand slips beneath the thin cotton of your nightgown to cup your sex. His lips, once soft and inviting, feel harsh against your neck now. You wriggle against him, trying your best to force him off of you.

"I want you to leave," you tell him. "Get out of my chambers and bring Aemond back."

"You can't mean that, sweet girl." Aegon grinds his hard cock into your ass, nipping at your earlobe.

"I do."

Before you can fight him further, Aegon flips you over so you're pinned beneath him, his eyes burning with rage. He grabs your wrists and holds them above your head. You can feel the heat of his body through your gown and you hate yourself for the way it ignites a fire in your belly. Aegon is the reason for your current torment and yet you still find yourself craving him in some way.

"You don't mean that," he repeats. "Never say that again. Not you."

Aegon hates the blank look in your eyes. It's frightening, something he's never witnessed before. You've always loved him the most. Always.

"Tell me you don't mean it. Tell me!"

"I'll thank you to get off my wife, brother." Aemond's hand grips Aegon's collar firmly, leaving no option for Aegon except to listen.

You slowly sit up as Aegon's weight leaves you. The brothers glare at one another. You're unimpressed by their pissing match.

"I would like to write to my mother," you announce. "No, I will write to my mother."

"You can't," Aegon says without looking away from Aemond. "You'll have no contact with your traitor mother."

"What could I possibly tell her that would be so damning? I know nothing of your plans, all of you have made sure of that. Let me mourn with my family."

Both men are silent and you know the answer before Aegon says it.

"No."

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (9)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: And did you think I didn't see you?

Warnings: Canon typical Targaryen incest. Simp!Aemond. Brief mentions of violence. Aemma is getting pretty depressed and desperate tbh

Tag list: @callsignwidow (I’m so sorry I forgot originally. I promise it wasn’t intentional)

"What do you mean I'm not allowed to see my own grandmother?" You glare up at Criston Cole, the smug bastard. The joy of denying you and confining you to your room, as if you're some petulant child that wouldn't eat their vegetables rather than a princess and heir to the throne that you are, is all over his face.

"Princess Rhaenys is confined to her room as well. Neither of you are permitted to see your dragons either. Your lord husband has commanded you to prepare for the coronation." Cole bows stiffly before turning sharply on his heel and marching off, sword clanging at his side.

Your hand falls to your stomach as a wave of nausea washes over your body.

So, this is it.

You're well and truly a prisoner as your uncle seizes the Iron Throne.

You want to scream and rage and slit Aegon's miserable throat all at the same time. Most of all you want your mother. It should be her coronation you're commanded to prepare for... and it wouldn't need to be a command either. You'd do it happily. Dutifully.

But you won't do it now. Not for Aegon. Never for Aegon. You're finished allowing him to use you as it pleases him. He'll never lay a hand on you again, and neither will Aemond. How could you be expected to debase yourself in such a way? To give the brother of your mother's usurper children? No, you won't. If Aemond expects it he can take a mistress for all you care.

With your mind made up on the matter, your eyes flit over to the dress some maid or other had laid out on your bed before your kicked all of them out in your rage upon returning to the Keep. The material is long and flowy, meant to drape over your body in a way you'd find attractive if your weren't so upset. The color is the same deep green of House Hightower that you always see Alicent in.

You hate it with such an intense passion that you subconsciously find yourself reaching for the small dagger on Aemond's desk.

"Don't," comes the cool voice of your husband. His fingers wrap around your wrist and he pulls your back to his chest. His other hand splays across your stomach, warming your skin beneath his touch. "The dress is too pretty to ruin."

"I have no need of it as I won't be attending this joke of a coronation. Aegon can choke on his wine."

You feel Aemond's lips twitch against your hair. "I'm sure His Majesty won't be happy to hear his favorite niece say such a thing."

"But his brother is?"

"Or perhaps his brother is simply relieved to find a chasm growing between his wife and the King."

"The chasm is big enough to swallow you as well, Aemond. Do you think I'll ever forgive any of you for this? Do you think I'll happily fall in your bed after this?"

Aemond's hold on your tightens. "Our bed. We are married after all."

"Yes, but for how much longer?"

"What does that mean?" His voice is icy. Dangerous even.

Aegon’s promise before he dragged you back to the Keep with him bounces around in your head. No one can stop me from taking you for my own.

"Nothing," you find yourself reassuring Aemond. "It's only... you're all starting a war. I don't understand how none of you see it. What will the first casualty be? Me? You?"

He turns you around to face him, his hand moving from your stomach to your cheek. "You're safe here."

"Am I? I'm confined to our room, unable to see my grandmother or Vermithor-"

"How old were you when you claimed Vermithor?"

You blink in confusion, uncertain of Aemond's sudden question. "Young. Too young perhaps."

"You were five." His violet eye seems to stare into your very soul as he speaks, laying your very essence bare before him. "It was impossibly brave of you. And idiotic."

"What's your point."

"You wanted Vermithor and you claimed him by any means necessary. That is why my grandfather deems you important enough to imprison. You truly are the blood of the dragon and he's terrified."

Your brow furrows as you take in Aemond's words. "I think you place too much importance on me."

"I could never. You're everything to me. I've waited for you for years and I won't let anyone take you from me now. You're safe with me, my love, this I promise." His gaze flicks down to your lips as he draws you closer, craning his head down.

Your earlier promises of never letting him touch you again fly from your mind as you melt into the softness of his hands. He holds you like he's unworthy of you, like you're something so unbelievably precious to him. He kisses you in the same way. Aemond's lips are gentle and loving as they move against yours. He rushes nothing and savors everything.

"Let me keep you safe," Aemond whispers against your mouth.

The desire pooling between your thighs almost drives you to distraction, but you muster enough focus to nod before wrapping your arms around his neck and stealing another kiss. Aemond reciprocates in kind, his cock throbbing in his trousers as you whimper and grind yourself against him.

Aegon had once told him pretty words could get him anywhere with a woman, but everything Aemond said to you he meant. They were more than pretty words. Every single bit of it was true. He loves you and he'll make you love him in turn no matter what.

"We need to get dressed," Aemond finally manages to say between kisses.

Your hand trails down between your bodies, resting on his hard cock. "And if I would rather get undressed, husband?"

Aemond has to resist the urge to bend you over his desk and fuck you senseless until that pretty little mouth of yours can only say his name. He wants it so badly he can practically feel your cunt around him, but you don't deserve to be fucked like some common whore. No, you deserve to be worshipped. Ravished.

"We don't have time." He hates the way your face falls when he says it, but it's true. There's no time for everything he wants to do to you. "Afterwards, I promise."

"You're making a lot of promises today." Your attempt at humor falls a bit flat as neither of you are in the mood for it. "Aemond, please, don't make me watch."

His thumb traces your cheekbone softly. "You're attendance is required; however, I'll see what I can do about reuniting you with Vermithor if you'll come."

You aren't stupid enough to believe you'd be left alone with your dragon, but it's a step in the right direction. Maybe... maybe this is how you should play their little game. Let them think you've been tamed and domesticated until you can earn enough of their trust that you can get back to your mother.

A plan starts to form in your head.

"Alright," you say to Aemond. "I'll attend."

Aemond kisses you briefly. "I'll wait for you just outside the door."

You nod, watching him leave before heading to your closet and selecting a different dress. This one is a deep red that clings to your body and ends in a long train. It's slightly difficult to get it on by yourself, but you somehow manage, meeting Aemond in the hallway. He observes you with a raised brow though says nothing about your choice of attire. Getting you to agree to come was tricky enough. He isn't about to demand you change clothes.

"Come," he says as he offers you his arm.

The two of you walk in silence to the dragon pit where you join the royal procession, standing on the dais in front of the smallfolk. Many whisper and point at you until Aegon enters and begins walking towards the Septon. Swords clang as he walks beneath, coughs and sniffles coming from the crowd. In the distance you think you can hear Vermithor's mournful cry echoing the hollow feeling in your heart. Aemond, for his part, seems to sense this as well and holds your hand in his.

Aegon's crowning passes in a blur. You hear little of it and completely ignore when he looks in your direction for some sort of sign you accept him. Unlike Alicent and Helaena, you don't curtsy. You don't even nod as Aemond does. You stare straight ahead into the crowd, a few faces staring straight back with pity.

As the crowd cheers Aegon's name you feel as though you'll pass out. That should be your mother wearing the conqueror's crown. All of this is so, so wrong-

Screams cut off your thoughts as debris scatters across the room. The dust settles and you see your grandmother astride Meleys. She meets your eyes and smiles sadly, mouthing the words be strong. You take several steps forward before Aemond wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back.

"Let me go," you cry out. "Let me go!"

Aemond shakes his head. "No. You let her go."

You wail and kick, fighting against him with everything you have, but it's no use. Aemond is much stronger than you and keeps you in place easily until Rhaenys flies off.

Without you.

You collapse against Aemond's chest and sob until he has to carry you out.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you

[thedeathlysallows]

I missed you

Aww, that’s sweet ❤️ I’ve missed y’all too. I’ve also missed being able to write more consistently for y’all

[thedeathlysallows]

Hiii!! I know that mm fic will have to wait, but if u want to, can u maybe write some one shots or drabbles anout felix?❤️❤️

Sure, I can give that a shot! If y’all have any ideas feel free to send them in!

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (8)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon; Aegon Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: When you lost control

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest

The king is dead.

The words ring through your mind repeatedly, a horrible reminder that everything is changing for better or worse.

"Aemond," you finally find your voice after what feels like (and likely is) hours. "Is it true? Is he..."

Aemond gives you a sad look and pulls you close against his chest. His lips press to the top of your head as he whispers his answer. "Yes."

You aren’t sure how to feel. You loved your grandfather, and he surely loved you, but you’re nervous for your mother. You’ve heard so many whispers throughout the Keep… whispers that spell disaster for your mother’s ascension to the throne. There are those that would see your mother dead before they see her as Queen, and you’ve got the sinking feeling your husband and his mother are at the head of that battle.

“The safest place for you is our bedchamber,” Aemond tells you, and your heart immediately drops to your stomach. “You must stay here.”

“And if I don’t?” You look up at Aemond, tilting your chin in defiance. “Besides, why should I? My mother will be Queen. She is Queen if Viserys is truly dead. Why should her heir hide away and not be seen?”

Aemond’s lips are set in a thin line. “It’s in your best interest to listen to your husband.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Do you know what my grandfather is currently doing?” Aemond grabs you by the wrist and pulls you close. The pupil of his good eye is blown wide, black swallowing violet until only a void is left. “He’s searching the grounds for Aegon. Why do you think he would do that?”

“Because his father is dead.”

“Aemma, you aren’t a stupid girl. You know why. My grandfather will not allow your mother to sit on the Iron Throne.”

You swallow the bile rising in your throat. You didn’t expect Aemond to lie to you, he would never do that, but you didn’t expect such blunt honesty either. And if Aegon has truly ran off… you take a deep breath to center yourself. Your marriage to Aemond is still so new and now you’re being tested in a way you never could’ve imagined.

“What will you do?” You finally find your voice as you gaze up at Aemond, his features sharper than usual in the early morning light.

“Mother has tasked me with finding Aegon before our grandfather’s men.”

“And then?”

“I have no desire to see Aegon on the throne.”

Despite his words, something remains unsaid. He doesn’t want Aegon on the throne, but he doesn’t want your mother either. He won’t support her claim, therefore denying your claim as well.

Before tears can fall, you yank your wrist out of his grip. “Go then. Support a usurper over your wife.”

“It’s more than that and you know it.”

“No! I don’t know, Aemond! Viserys chose Rhaenyra as his heir. She is his oldest living child. I am my mother’s heir as her eldest child. What’s so complicated about that?”

“People will never accept a woman on the throne. Not only that, but your brothers are bastards and everyone knows. You have to be her heir because you are her only legitimate child. Unfortunately, not even that will save you if the people decide to rise up against your mother in favor of Aegon.”

“They would never! All the houses swore to recognize-“

“Words said by dead lords whose children don’t share their sentiment.” Aemond observes you quietly for a moment. “Don’t make me post guards at your door. I have no desire to make you a prisoner, but you’re forcing my hand. Stay out of this fight.”

Aemond presses his lips to yours, but you refuse to kiss him back, keeping your body rigid when he tries to hold you. You watch him go silently, rage simmering in your blood. When the two of you married, you had promised yourself to try. Try and make it work. Try to be a good wife to Aemond. How can you possibly do any of that now without betraying your family?

There’s only one option left for you: you need to find Aegon before anyone else. If anyone can convince him to not take the Iron Throne it’s you. He would do anything you asked of him.

Luckily, you know him better than anyone else. Even Aemond. They’ll search the brothels, the ale houses, but you know better. Aegon is smart enough not to hide in places he’ll be expected. That only leaves on place.

The Great Sept.

When you go to leave your room, you’re stopped immediately by the King’s Guard. True to his word, Aemond posted them outside of your shared chambers. They glare at you silently until you shut the door and retreat deeper into the room. There’s another way- a secret way your mother taught you should something like this happen. So you set to work, tapping against the wall until you find the door hidden by the fireplace.

You slowly make your way down the dark passage, sticking close to the damp stone wall. It won’t be far to the Great Sept once you make it out of the Keep. The difficult part will be not being spotted. You’ll stick to the shadows, though, and you’ll keep your hood up as far as you can without drawing suspicion.

You can do this.

You have to do this.

For your mother.

Fresh air finally washes over you as you reach the exit of the passage. You’re well outside of the Keep now, no guards to spot you as you sneak down the street. The Sept looms large and imposing in front of you. You’ve never been particularly religious, but you’ll praise any god you can if you’re the one to find Aegon first.

The Sept is still in the early morning as you step inside. Candles haven’t even been lit yet and the silence around you is suffocating.

“Aegon?” You try to make as little noise as possible, unwilling to alert anyone to your presence.

You hear a small cough come from underneath a table and kneel down. Aegon grins up at you, absolutely reeking of wine. You offer him your hand. He takes it willingly.

“Everyone is looking for you,” you tell him.

“And yet you found me first.” His expression grows dark. “I won’t do it. I don’t want the throne. Tell them to give it to Aemond… I’m not suited for it.”

When you don’t argue with him, Aegon lifts a brow in question. “Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?”

“Not exactly. I don’t want Aemond to be King and gods know I’ll only be Queen if my mother is dead.” You take Aegon’s hands in your own and hold them against your chest. “Aegon, we both know they’ll never stop trying to make you King. I need you to stop them. Do whatever it takes. Please.”

Aegon tilts his head, eyes drawn to your lips. “Run away with me. We can go to Braavos and write to your mother. She’ll understand and pardon us after she takes the Throne back.”

“Aegon, You’re married. What will happen to your children if we leave? You can’t protect them from Braavos.”

“No mention of your own marriage. Is there trouble for the newlyweds?” He steps forward and crowds you against the wall. “Say the word and I’ll take you away from all of it.”

“We can’t. We have to stay and you have to fight. I’ll stand by your side as your brother’s wife, but we can’t leave this mess for my mother to clean up alone. We have to help her.”

Something changes in his expression. His face tenses up and his eyes darken as he listens to your words. “And if I don’t? If I decide to take the Throne from Rhaenyra, will you still stand by my side? What if I stay the selfish bastard I’ve always been?”

“What would you gain from doing that?”

“You.”

That one little word sits heavy in your soul. “Aegon…”

He shushes you, kissing you sloppily. His lips are warm and demanding while one of his hands drifts down to hike your thigh up his waist.

“The only fucking thing I’ve ever wanted is you, and you’re the only thing I can’t have. But if I’m King? No one can stop me from taking you for my own.”

“You can’t.”

“I could. Who would stop me?”

“I would.”

Aegon trails his lips against your neck before biting down hard. “Would you? I don’t think so. Aemond wouldn’t stop me either. He doesn’t have the fucking courage. You’ll be mine one way or another. I’m letting you decide how.”

You let out a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t leave.”

“Then a king I’ll be.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you

[thedeathlysallows]

Hey sorry to bother you I would just like to know when you are going to share the new chapter of your house of dragon fan fiction. Take care of yourself

I’ve got chapter 7 written, I just haven’t had a chance to post it yet. I’ll get to that today ���

[thedeathlysallows]

I really like the floral nick names in mm!! Cant wait for the next chapter!❤️

Ah, I just saw this! I’m so sorry. Thank you ☺️ I love floral nicknames in stories. They’re so cute

[thedeathlysallows]

Heyyy, will u update mm soon?❤️❤️

I do have plans to update, but I’m not sure how soon. For mm I need my computer, and it’s currently out of commission until I can get a new desk or we situate my husband’s office better. I have a lot of notes and more in depth world building for mm compared to, let’s say, my HotD fanfic I’m also writing. I can do that one on my phone, but for mm I need those notes lol

Sorry for the long winded answer 😅

[thedeathlysallows]

I’m… already not feeling Eurovision this year and it’s kinda bumming me out. Maybe I’ll check out the highlights after it’s all said and done but idk if I’ll actually bother to keep up with it this year

[thedeathlysallows]

How is there not more Downton Abbey fanfic? I’m dying over here 😭

[thedeathlysallows]

Coming Soon

A Stephen Bonnet fanfic

            Grace rolls her eyes at her brother’s lame attempt to impress Captain Bonnet. Roger is not a man made for hard labor and there’s absolutely no way in hell Bonnet will do anything but laugh at them.

            “Roger, stop it,” she hisses between clenched teeth. “You’ll break your back and then how will we get to North Carolina?”

            “What other choice do we have, Grace?”

            Bonnet watches the exchange, green eyes glittering with amusement and something darker, hungrier as his eyes sweep over Grace. “And what can ye do for me, darlin’?”

            Grace frowns. “I can cook.”

            “I have a cook already.”

            “I’m probably better.” Grace tilts her chin and crosses her arms, daring him to deny her a second time.

            Bonnet laughs at her audacity. “Aye, probably. So ye can cook, but can ye keep a Captain’s bed warm?”

            The blood rushes from her face in an instant, leaving a cold feeling all over her body. “I… what are ye… excuse me?!”

            Roger dumps the heavy bag back on the dock and takes a step towards Bonnet. “I’ll thank ye kindly not to speak to me sister like that… Captain.”

            Bonnet hums. “If she wants on my ship she’ll be learning her place sooner rather than later.”

#stephen bonnet #stephen bonnet fanfic #outlander fanfic

[thedeathlysallows]

Do any of y’all watch Outlander? My obsession with Stephen Bonnet is back and I’m itching to write. Love a sexy pirate bastard

[thedeathlysallows]

should I keep with the floral theme Felix and Roseanna started in mm and have Caius give Anne a floral nickname? Demetri and Kit as well?