#Issa's masterlist

[roanniom]

Helloooo! New follower here and I was just wondering if you have a masterlist link :) I wanna catch up with your amazing workkk

Hello sweet anon! My masterlist is pinned to the top of my blog, but it got a community label put on it a while back so maybe that’s why you can’t see it? Either way you can find it here and I will also reblog the masterlist now.

Thanks for reading and please please do let me know what you think!!

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (9/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, kissing, mutual masturbation, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

"The day is beautiful." He whispered in her ear, placing a gentle, little kiss on her neck a moment later.

Her flesh was hot under his fingers, and he savoured the taste of her sweat on his lips – he sighed as he felt his hard manhood, already sore and all swollen with impatience, push hard against her buttocks.

She moaned quietly, tilting her head back, her mouth parted wide in a heavy breath, her hands clenched on his arm – his palm, sunk between her silky, smooth thighs was soaked from her wetness, her thirsty cunt pulsed greedily around nothing.

"– focus –" He commanded, feeling that her hips sought involuntary fulfilment, rolling back and forth in a joint rhythm with his long fingers.

The last few evenings had blended into one for him, turning later into nights full of her moans, the loud clicks of her moisture, her lips leaking with desire, her fingers clenched on his manhood.

Every time it came for him too naturally, too easily.

"– tubis – mmm – tubis issa gevie –" She mumbled, and he took his hand away, sighing heavily.

She squirmed, turning in his arms, looking up at him pleadingly, sitting down on top of him with her hands around his neck.

"– please –" She whispered, pressing her bare breasts against his tunic, combing her fingers through his long hair.

He didn't stop her when she pulled at the black ribbon at the back of his head, letting the front strands of his hair fall over his face.

"– right words, wrong order –" He said coolly, embracing her with one hand around her waist, the other clamping down on the plump skin of her bottom, the only part of her body hidden under the thin material of her nightgown, letting them rub against each other with the motions of their hips.

"– tubis gevie issa –" She breathed out, and after a moment his mouth was already on hers, hearing with relief that she had finally used the correct grammar and conjugation.

He thought with satisfaction that, indeed, she deserved a reward, as did he for being such a patient and good teacher, so he twisted himself along with her and threw himself onto the bed on which they had been sitting until now, pressing her body against the sheets.

They purred and panted loudly, letting their mouths devour each other in loud, sticky kisses full of their saliva and slick tongues, their hands wandering blindly over each other's bodies, wanting nothing more than to simply feel each other.

Something like a smile flashed across his face when he heard her nimble fingers undo the belt and buckles of his tunic, the motion of his arms helping her to pull it off him.

His hands followed her example, revealing her naked, graceful body, slipping her nightgown off her legs – he always stopped at that moment, at the sight of her exposed, bare flesh, her gaze full of joyful, hot anticipation, her glistening lips parted in a loud, deep breath.

She was always so eager, he thought with appreciation.

"– gevie –" He sighed, leaning lower to see that her teeth bit into her lower lip at that word, her thighs parted, allowing him to lie between them – his fingers untied the small knot binding the fabric of his breeches as his tongue ran from her stomach upwards, between her sweet breasts.

Beautiful.

Her fingers combed gently through his hair as his nose ran over to the side, with her quiet moan of pleasure closing his lips around her hard, puffy nipple. He murmured when, with her help, he managed to slide his breeches off his hips and raised himself up on his elbows, releasing her nipple with a quiet plop.

He pulled his linen shirt over his head feeling that his eye patch exposed his eye socket and scar – his heart pounded harder in panic, his lips parted in horror as he reached up and corrected it, but the damage was already done.

He saw in the shocked expression on her face that she had seen it.

"– daor –" She begged, propping herself up on her elbows, her eyebrows arched in pain at the sight of him trying to cover himself from her again. "– kostilus, lēkia – tubī daor –"

He looked at her with his mouth open in ragged breath, feeling that he had completely frozen, not knowing what to do, wanting it at the same time as being afraid.

Please, big brother.

Not today.

Looking at her flushed face, at her long eyelashes and sweet, full lips, he caught himself thinking that if he had pretended that she had always lived in the Red Keep, there would have been nothing inappropriate about their closeness, their caresses and the nights they spent together.

Her eyes, though darker and bigger, as much as her hair could be inherited from his mother after all, similarly soft and smooth, her gaze as warm and tender – her calmness and thoughtfulness was much like his father's, and only when he was by her side did he realize how much resentment lay within him that his King had devoted so little attention to his own son.

Their fictional relationship, created by him only to subdue her, was slowly becoming a truth of which he himself became a victim.

He swallowed hard as she raised herself up on her hands and sat in front of him, looking him straight in the eye, his lips pressed together into a thin line as her fingers rose to his face, slowly pulling his eye patch off his head.

He looked at her, feeling that his face was stony – he didn't want her to see anything that was happening inside his mind – he felt that she had no right to reject him, no right to mock him or laugh at him, no right to look at him with compassion, but he dreaded it anyway.

Humiliation.

She, however, seemed to sense his tension – as soon as she put his eye patch aside her hand lifted uncertainly back to his scarred cheek, and her fingertips ran over the pale, long line that adorned it, looking at him intrigued, her doe eyes large and warm, full of some kind of understanding.

"– kasta –" She whispered with a sweet, gentle smile devoid of anything but tenderness.

He felt a squeeze in his throat.

Blue.

His sapphire.

He sighed quietly as she threw her arms around his neck, as she moved closer and let his long, swollen erection push against her abdomen, her hard nipples pressed against the bare skin of his torso. Their fingers sank into each other's soft hair as they leaned towards each other, and their swollen lips met in a strangely quiet, uncertain, gentle kiss.

It was a sweet kiss, he thought, and each kiss that followed was just as lazy and soft – their lips clicked from their saliva each time they became one, her breath hot and full of desire.

As his hand slid down her waist, hers slid down his chest, seeking the same thing.

They sighed quietly and stopped, not pulling their mouths away from each other, simply breathing as their fingers found what they wanted – he closed his eyes as her smooth hand clenched gently on his thick, throbbing manhood, dripping with desire, while his hand slid between her thighs from the side of her buttocks, meeting her soaked, hot womanhood.

He pushed her onto the bed, holding her in his arms, and lay on his side with her, throwing her thigh over his waist – their bodies clung to each other in an embrace close and full of affection, their lips meeting in the need for intimacy and understanding.

Her dark, long curls were wonderfully soft and smooth under his fingers, his hands seeming to sink into her warm, bare skin, the scent of her sweat and oils filling his lungs like a morning breeze.

Her body was different from Madam's – her curves were more girlish, her breasts wonderfully plump and swollen, her hips soft and silken to the touch, her lips and womanhood just as moist and delicate, thirsty for his caresses.

He twisted and forced her to lie on her back, brushing her sweet lips with his, panting louder and louder as her smooth hand caressed his cock, all sore with desire.

The touch of her hand on this intimate part was never perverse and animalistic – no – she squeezed his hard length with slow, gentle strokes, turning a simple, primitive reflex into something almost tender, as if she thought his manhood was not something dirty, a source of sin and embarrassment, but something she respected.

It was only by being with her that he understood the difference between caressing and satisfying.

Madam was satisfying his needs.

His little sister was caressing his body, almost embarrassing him with how pleasurable it was.

He pulled away from her lips, thinking that although they were usually limited to touching each other with their hands, now, this night, when she finally saw all of him, he wanted to reward her for her devotion, for not asking questions, for not demanding, for not commanding, for letting him touch her every night even though he had no right to do so.

"– ah – what –" She muttered as he lifted himself up on his knees and gently took her thighs in his hands, shamelessly spreading them wider.

Her lips parted as he leaned over her, already knowing subconsciously what he was trying to do, her hips wanted to move back involuntarily, but he didn't let her, pushing her close again.

"– daor, hāedar – your brother longs to taste you –" He said and before any word left her throat, he leaned lower and let his face sink into her warm, leaking cunt – he heard her loud, surprised moan, her spine arching in ecstasy as his lips ran shyly over her soft folds.

"– lēkia –" She mewled, clasping her fingers in his white hair as the tip of his tongue began to fondle with her swollen slit, teasing it lazily, while his thumb found her little bud, trailing around it, making her hips begin to roll back and forth, rubbing against his face.

He himself began to rock his hips, rubbing his painfully hard cock against the bed beneath him, trying to find any source for an escape from his tension, thinking only of how wonderful she tasted and looked – his lips and tongue swept over her thirsty cunt while his gaze was fixed on her face, her mouth wide open and her eyes closed, her cheeks red with exertion, glistening with sweat.

"– so needy – soaking wet for her big brother –" He hummed contentedly and felt her whole body tremble, her eyes opening, meeting his gaze – she started to pant, spreading her thighs wider, pressing his head closer, as if she wanted him to simply melt into one with her body – his short nails dug into the soft skin of her buttocks as she cried out loudly, throwing her head back, feeling his slick tongue suddenly burst deep inside her, mercilessly hitting the same wonderful spot within her again and again.

"– ah – mghmmm – f-fuck, gods –" She babbled, writhing before him in pleasure, surprisingly innocent and vulnerable now as he devoured her cunt like there was no tomorrow, feeling her sweet wetness melt on his tongue.

The tip of his nose along with his thumb traveled around her pearl, feeling her entire womanhood begin to pulsate, his tongue hitting her fleshy walls just above her opening, feeling the tiny bud that made her quiver with pleasure.

"– Aemond – Aemond, Aemond, Aemond, Aemond –" She panted as if she was pronouncing the words of a prayer.

A shudder shook them both as she came with a girlish cry of pleasure, rocking her hips so that they rubbed against his face, her fingers clenched in his hair as if she was never going to let him go again, her breath heavy and uneven, her thighs quivering all over in his hands.

"– please – please, no more –" She begged, trying to push him away as the last waves of pleasure surged through her body, while he continued to lick what was flowing out of her, teasing her over-sensitive, weeping cunt anew.

"– nothing can go to waste – it's all mine –" He cooed, and she sighed, giving in, trying to endure his treatments with quiet moans on the edge of pain and pleasure.

"– me too – I want – I want to kiss you there, lēkia – let me –" She mumbled, looking up at him with eyes hazy with disbelief at how pleasurable the experience was.

His cock pulsed painfully hard, leaving him with no resistance.

"– mmm – come here –" He exhaled, laying down beside her on his back, tossing his hair away so that it didn't bother him, thinking with shame that it was a feminine gesture, not a masculine one.

She, however, seemed not to mind, for the eagerness with which she shifted over to him and lay between his thighs amazed and embarrassed even him.

He sighed, tilting his head back, unable to get a word out when her hand gently grasped the base of his cock in her fingers, while her lips ran over the pink, fat head of it.

"– guide me –" She hummed sweetly, making the whole act seem absurdly innocent to him, despite the fact that his erection was so swollen that he felt like he was about to just reach his peak on her face.

There was something tempting about it, but he couldn't deny himself the warmth of her lips.

"– tease it –" He whispered, running his thumb over the tip of his cock, smooth and slick from his own wetness – he threw his head back and closed his eyes, surprised when she leaned in immediately, running her sticky, warm tongue over that part of him.

"– fuck –" He exhaled, feeling his heart pounding like mad in his chest – this time it was his hands that clenched in her hair, holding her close as her lips roamed and brushed over the tip of his erection, her palm squeezing its root.

This is too much, he thought with desperation, I'm about to come.

"– put it in – open your mouth –" He breathed out, forcing her head to lean lower and let him simply slide his erection deep into her lips – they both moaned loudly – she from exertion, feeling the head of his cock hit her throat, and he from pleasure, her palate warm and moist, safe, welcoming him home.

"– suck –" He commanded, panting and groaning loudly, with ruthless, sharp thrusts slamming deep into her throat, her squeal telling him that she was unable to keep up.

"– ah – breathe through your nose – mmm – just a moment longer – fuck, fuck, oh, gods, swallow, swallowswallowswallow –" He mumbled out and moaned like a little boy, throwing his head back when he felt his seed spilling over her tongue – he forced himself between convulsions of his body to look at her and saw her face red from exertion and tears, her closed eyes, the curls of her dark hair stuck to her sweaty face, the base of his throbbing erection in her hand, a trickle of his release dripping from the corner of her mouth.

"– gods, you look perfect like this –" He gasped, feeling completely relaxed, filled with nothing but relief and that wonderful, pulsing, tingling sensation that was spreading in final waves through his loins.

His fingers loosened their grip and she pulled away, sliding his half-soft length out of her mouth with its loud splat against his lower abdomen, gasping for air loudly, panting heavily, all drenched in tears.

"– māzigon kesīr, hāedar (come here, little sister) – māzigon kesīr (come here) –" He said, extending his hand to her, and she immediately fell into his arms, laying between his thighs, her womb and breasts pressed against his naked body, while her face, as usual, found refuge in the hollow of his neck.

"– gōntan nyke ōdrikagon ao, zaldrītsos? (did I hurt you, little dragon?) –" He asked softly, placing a warm, loud kiss on her forehead, wiping with his thumb the remains of his seed from the corner of her mouth, feeling her whole body tremble in his embrace.

She shook her head.

"– n-no – just – it was so much –" She mumbled, and he sighed in relief, running his fingers down her bare spine.

"– I know, sweet girl – you've satisfied me – now it's time to rest –" He said and leaned towards her face, allowing their lips to meet in the wettest, most tender, softest kiss he'd ever experienced in his life.

He thought it would have been every man's dream to be kissed like that by a woman as they spread out comfortably, his hand covering their naked bodies with thick furs, letting her lie on top of him as she had so far.

He knew he should send her away, he knew everyone was already gossiping about them spending nights together in his chamber, but he couldn't do it.

He could not, after what they had done, stay in the cold bed or condemn her to the same fate.

Each time, she would fall asleep and wake up in his arms.

"– you fight better than ever, my Prince –" Criston Cole exhaled after another round of their sparring together. "– you're more focused and precise –"

He nodded, turning his face to the side, thinking with shame that it was because ever since she'd stayed in his bed, ever since he'd fallen asleep sunk into the warmth of her body, listening to her calm breathing, he'd experienced true rest at night and only been awakened by birdsong at dawn.

"– however, your mother is concerned about the nature of your relationship with your cousin –" Cole began uncertainly, but fell silent seeing the grimace of displeasure on his face.

He thought with frustration that the last thing he needed was lecturing.

"– if Queen Alicent wants to tell me something, she should do it in person –" He said coolly and nodded, taking the right position to attack, wanting to end the subject and move on to the next duel.

They both swung, and their blades collided in the air with a loud clink of steel.

"– your mother is worried about her future marriage – about her dignity –" Criston continued between blows, causing him to push against him with even more fury.

Her peaceful, sleeping face snuggled into his chest in the morning, her soft hand lying on his heart, the warmth and smell of her bare body, her sex, her hair, the sound of her calm breathing and birdsong outside the walls of the keep, his fingers running lazily down her spine, watching her with serenity.

I am her future, he thought furiously, but he didn't dare say it out loud.

They both stopped in mid-step when they heard the swish of an arrow, which, a moment later, hit straight on target – his cousin was standing on the other side of the courtyard, pointing her bow again towards the big straw shield, and once again she hit the centre.

After the incident with Floris, Aegon had assigned her a larger chamber and agreed that she could move around the fortress without guards, and he had not objected.

She spent most of her day in his company anyway: in his bed, in the heavens or, as now, practising at a similar time to him.

She never interrupted him or approached to speak to him, respecting his private space and the fact that he preferred what went on between them to stay behind the closed doors of his chamber.

However, this did not prevent him from admiring her graceful figure from afar and sinking into his own fantasies, from which his manhood swelled all over in his breeches.

"– my Prince – this is a dangerous game – the Queen and I just wish to spare you disappointment –" He said, and he only pressed his lips together without answering him.

He decided that it was beneath his dignity to discuss it with him.

"It occurs to me that Criston Cole has no love for me. I can see it in his look full of disapproval cast in my direction." She said lightly, massaging his back with her soft hands after their intense pleasure that same night, his muscles all tense and sore from the physical exertion.

He hummed under his breath, hearing her smile, lying on his stomach while she straddled him – he opened his eyelids lazily, feeling himself begin to slowly fall asleep.

He thought more and more about how her touch, her closeness, her scent had subconsciously calmed and relaxed him.

"He and my mother are trying to lecture me. As if I'm a fool who doesn't understand the consequences of his actions." He murmured resentfully, feeling tired and uncomfortable at the thought that they both still saw him as nothing more than a little child who refused to submit to their rules.

"They are the last people who should be instructing anyone in these matters." She said amused, and he froze, wondering why she had said that.

"What do you mean?" He asked curiously, thinking that perhaps Cole had a mistress he didn't know about.

He figured that he could use it against him if he wanted to moralise him again.

He turned onto his back when silence answered him, wanting to look at her – he blinked when he saw that she was pale, her eyes open wide in horror.

"What is it? What is that look?" He asked anxiously, feeling his heart thump harder in his chest.

She swallowed heavily and shook her head, her lips parted slightly in a deep breath.

"– it's just gossip – I shouldn't have said that –" She muttered, trying to smile and turn it into a joke.

His hand slid into her hair and his fingers clenched warningly in her soft curls.

"– hāedar –" He said coldly, letting her know that he was about to lose his patience and it would not be pleasant for either of them.

"– you shouldn't have heard it from me – gods, I was convinced you knew –" She mumbled, and he swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

"– speak –"

She looked at him pleadingly, her eyes filled with warmth and a plea for him not to make her do it – he longed to kiss her, longed to sink into her lips with the thought that this was surely nothing, her naked body at his fingertips.

"– Ser Criston – he broke his vows of chastity with a woman who is close to you – and whom you hold in the highest regard for obvious reasons –" She whispered in a trembling voice, looking at him in pain, her lips parted in a loud, heavy breath.

He felt his lips press together in a thin line as his heart froze in his chest for a moment, his eye red from burning tears of rage and humiliation, cold disappointment and bitterness running through his veins.

His mother.

His mother had no words of understanding for him, no time to embrace him, to squeeze his hand, to comfort him and soothe his suffering after he returned from Storm's End, but she had time to take care of herself and her delight in the arms of her sworn protector.

A man he treated as a friend, as a role model, whom he trusted, with whom he spent long evenings in discussion, believing they shared a bond.

And he, as soon as he left his chamber, headed for his mother's quarters and fucked her, lecturing him brazenly the next day about the nature of his relationship with his cousin.

He felt himself grow sick at the thought, his stomach squeezed into a knot as if he was about to vomit.

"Get out." He said coldly and let her go, feeling himself quivering all over, his chest rising and falling in rage and pain. "I want to be alone."

He only saw out of the corner of his eye that she nodded, her hands trembling with nerves as she put on her nightgown and robe, looking at him once more, as if she hoped he would change his decision.

He, however, simply sat and looked at his fingers, pleading in his mind that she should just leave.

When he heard her get off his bed and quietly head towards the door, opening and closing it behind her, he broke out into a silent cry, burying his head between his knees.

Alicent had humiliated him, abandoned him, forgotten him, but she had time for her lover, found opportunities to give him her warm gaze and tenderness, her closeness, leaving him, her son, alone.

He swallowed hard, choking on his tears, and lifted his face as if he suddenly realised what he had done, horrified by the silence around him.

"– hāedar? – come back – come back, sleep in my bed –" He called out towards the door, for some reason believing that she was still there, that she had not left him.

He sobbed when no sound answered him and hid his face in his hands, thinking that he didn't want to sleep alone, wondering in a reflex of despair whether to flee to the brothel again, ready to find shelter anywhere as long as he could feel the warmth of another body beside him.

He shuddered and sighed when he heard the door open again, her head peeking in.

She stood in the corridor.

She had not left him, his little sister.

Never.

He held out his hand to her and she closed the door behind her and ran to him, throwing herself into his arms.

It was the first time he had burst out crying in front of someone – the warmth of her body, her familiar arms, her familiar scent made him feel so wonderfully relieved that tears began to run down his face on their own.

He was panting heavily when, with greedy, impatient movements, he tore her robe and nightdress from her shoulders, exposing before him her sweet, plump breasts, between which at last he dared to press his face, like a child seeking refuge, sinking his fingers into the soft skin of her naked back.

He struggled to catch air in his lungs as her arms enveloped him tenderly, pressing him against her warm, smooth skin – her fingertips combed through his hair, allowing him to calm down.

"– I'm so sorry –" She whispered, and he simply closed his eyes, thinking that it wasn't her fault after all.

"– all my life she's been telling me about the value of virtue – of sacrifice – instilling in me a belief in principles and morals – and she's fucking her own guard –" He howled regretfully, the touch of her fingers, her hands trailing over his body bringing him relief.

"– I know –" She whispered, sinking down onto the soft cushions along with his body – his hand found her sweet breast, wanting to touch something warm and pleasant that would give him comfort.

He closed his eyes as she locked him in the tight embrace of her arms, and he curled up, lifting his knees almost under his chin, wanting her to be able to give shelter to his whole body, being a little boy again.

"– no matter what I do – no matter how hard I try, what I sacrifice – I'm not able to please her –" He confessed in shame, his voice shaking with sadness and regret, feeling tear after tear run down his cheek without the participation of his will.

Everything he held inside just flowed out of him.

He sighed quietly, feeling relieved when she simply leaned over and kissed the top of his head with a sweet tenderness, running her fingers through his long, white hair without saying a word.

He thought he deeply appreciated that she didn't do what Madam did – every time he was vulnerable in her embrace, Sylvi showered him with advice and guidance, trying to manipulate and direct him, as if he didn't understand that she wanted him to simply do what would be better for her.

However, she, his little sister, was silent, coexisting with him in his suffering, focusing only on giving him solace, on gentle and innocent gestures full of affection, from which a pleasant warmth melted inside his chest.

He thought, nestled in the soft embrace of her familiar, sweet arms, that what his mother was doing didn't matter.

Now he had someone all to himself.

His little dragon.

His hāedar.

"You could hide better with your weakness for our cousin. The servants no longer even whisper but openly speak of her walking into your chamber in the evenings and leaving it only after sunrise." Said Aegon, pacing around his room while he sat comfortably in one of the chairs, feeling absolutely nothing at his words.

You'd be surprised to hear what our mother is doing, he thought, but didn't dare to say it out loud.

He decided that it was better to keep this information to himself.

It might have been useful to him at some point in the future.

"It takes her a long time to learn. She is making progress, but she is very…mmm, eager to bring the language of our ancestors to perfection." He said with a wide, cold grin, cocking his head to the side.

He didn't feel like confessing to him.

Aegon raised his eyebrows and walked over to the empty chair on the other side of the table, sitting down in it with a heavy sigh, reaching, of course, for the wine jug.

"I thought you hated bastards. Do you desire to beget your own now, brother?" He asked, and he smiled even wider.

"A maiden will not bear a child. Anyway. That's not why I invited you here." He said, unfolding one of the maps he had prepared earlier, feeling his heart thump harder in his chest.

His hāedar had begged him endlessly to tell him of his and Criston's plan, and as the battle of Rook's Rest was about to take place and possibly determine the fate of the war, he decided that this once he would yield to her, knowing that her fears were justified.

Aegon could not think that he was plotting behind his back.

She longed to participate in this conversation with him, but he did not agree to it.

These were matters between them.

Between brothers.

"Criston Cole and our army are not heading towards Harrenhal." He said, and his brother laughed, as if he had heard some foolishness.

"And where the fuck do you think he's heading? To his home in Dorne?" He asked amused, taking a loud sip from his cup.

He licked his lower lip, trying to remain calm and not show his frustration.

"To Rook's Rest."

Aegon looked at him in disbelief and shook his head, as if hoping his younger brother would tell him he had not meant it.

"WHAT?" He hissed and stood up, placing his hands on his hips, circling around the table, as usual unable to sit still.

"Why? That wasn't the plan. We wanted to destroy Daemon and take back Harrenhal. What has changed? Why don't I know anything about it?"

"Now you know. Cole and I thought it best to cut Rhaenyra off from the land first. To block her ability to support Daemon in the future with her army other than by sea. We must plan a few steps ahead. Be patient, brother. That is all." He said, raising his hand over the map of the Seven Kingdoms, recalling the words his little sister had used when suggesting what he should say to him. "What we are doing is for you. It's not hard to throw an army and lose – this map is a chessboard, and we need to plan well for the whole game, not just the end. I ask you to trust us and agree to our attack."

Aegon blinked and furrowed his brow, as if something in his words troubled him.

"Yours?"

He swallowed hard, not taking his eyes off him, wondering how he should convey this to him.

He decided he would just be honest.

"We're planning an ambush. This whore will surely send dragons to Rook's Rest to help defend the fortress. Then me and Vhagar will step onto the battlefield and take the lives of both the beast and its rider, whoever it may be." He said, and his brother pressed his lips together and nodded.

"Very well. I will fly with you then."

He looked at him dully, wondering if he was really such a fool.

"The King cannot die. You and Sunfyre will guard the Red Keep. Our cousin will accompany and support me." He said, and Aegon slammed his fist on the table, startling him and making him jump up in his seat.

"No. She is less experienced and she will protect our family in the Red Keep. I will fly by your side to fight like a man. I am the King and that is my final decision." He said, and he looked away, feeling his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

He thought that perhaps it would be better this way and closed his eyes.

Maybe this way his problems would solve themselves.

His brother had ordered a meeting of the Small Council later that afternoon, intending, as he understood it, to convey to the assembled members the change of plans and his decision.

He knew their mother would be furious.

They all turned their heads towards the door when their cousin walked in – he thought, looking at her, his little sister, at her warm gaze directed towards him, at her full, glistening lips, at her graceful, soft body hidden beneath her leather riding attire, that Aegon wanted to inform her that it was he who would be setting out at his side to fight.

"What is this important matter that could not wait any longer?" Their mother asked, looking at his brother with a weariness he knew well.

He wondered if she had prayed for Cole and his return before falling asleep, feeling discomfort and frustration in his chest at the thought.

Aegon nodded, ready to speak.

"I wish to relieve our subjects who live in hunger. This fucking blockade has gone on for too long and I have decided to take measures to remedy it. Greyjoys are tactically avoiding choosing sides in this conflict, and only their fleet could face the Velaryons. In such situations, things are usually resolved through marriage. Lord Greyjoy has two sons, Toron and Rodrick, who are looking for a suitable candidate to marry. My mother and I believe that our beautiful cousin and her dragon will meet all of their father's requirements."

Silence fell all around him; he had the feeling that his body, although frozen in stillness, inwardly fell into some kind of panic attack, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he felt like he was dying.

My mother and I believe that our beautiful cousin and her dragon will meet all of their father's requirements.

They wanted to marry her off.

They wanted to take her away from him.

He looked at her, at the woman who had brought him into the world, feeling deceived, betrayed, abandoned.

Alicent shook her head, her brown eyes big with sadness and regret, her lips parted slightly, as if she herself was suffering.

"You knew it would end like this. Your irresponsible behaviour forced us to take the right steps." She whispered, lowering her gaze to her fingers, with which she scratched the cuticles around her nails.

He thought that in that case his brother should marry her off too, since she was so eager to open her thighs before men, but he was unable to say such words about his own mother.

How would that testify to him?

He was her son.

Her behaviour, her sins would be a burden and a humiliation to him, Aegon, Helaena and Daeron.

He heard his hāedar at his side inhale sharply, as devastated as he was.

"– here is my home, my King – please –" She mumbled pleadingly, but his brother interrupted her.

"It would happen sooner or later. Better sooner, given the rumours that reach our ears about where you've been spending the last nights. My brother did not deny it, conversing with me today, that he is taking advantage of your…kindness. I want to put an end to this sinful practice."

"No." He heard his own voice, feeling rage, fury, despair, regret, anger, shame, fear.

No.

Not her.

"She is a Targaryen. 'Tis I, as your younger brother, who, by all rights, have precedence to her hand." He said coldly, feeling his nostrils flutter in a heavy, deep breath.

His mother twisted in her seat, looking at him in disbelief as his brother smiled piteously at his words, making a drop of cold sweat run down his neck.

"You can bed whomever you want, brother. But it is I, as King and her protector, who will decide who she marries, and sooner Vhagar will fit into the Dragon's Pit than I'll give you her hand." He exclaimed.

"Why?" He asked like a little boy, feeling that the tone of his voice, the way the word suddenly ripped from his throat was just pathetic.

It made him want to cry.

Aegon froze, looking at him in disbelief.

"Good gods. Since when can the Kingdom afford marriages out of the need of the heart? Your subjects are starving. This agreement can make us break the blockade. Are your desires more important than the sake of the Realm?" His brother asked and he heard her loud sobs – out of the corner of his eye he saw that she hid her face in her hands.

"My decision is final. I will have the crow sent to the Iron Islands with our generous offer later today. That is all." He said and slammed his palms on the table, rising and left the room, leaving them with his words.

"– no – please, don't let him do it, don't send me away, don't send me away, don't send me away –" She wept like a little child as soon as he walked into her chamber, throwing herself into his arms – he cuddled her into himself as if he longed to merge with her into one, feeling his heart in his throat.

Don't send me away.

"– shhh – shhh, sweet girl – I won't –" He whispered, placing loud, soft kisses on her temple and cheekbone, stroking her back and neck with his hands, trying to calm her, to soothe her, her body trembling in his embrace.

"– you're lying – you're going to sell me, you're going to abandon me like he did –" She wailed, choking on her own tears, falling into complete hysteria, her fingers clenched painfully tight on his back.

He grabbed her by the hair and tilted her head back, wanting her to look at him, doing it, however, so as not to cause her pain.

"What did I tell you? Back then, when we were lying under the stars. What did I promise in return for you taming a dragon?" He asked, and she swallowed hard, her pretty face all swollen from tears, her dark eyes big from the sadness and grief that squeezed her heart, her lips parted wide.

"– that my place will always be by your side – that you will protect me – that I will be your little sister –" She mumbled out with difficulty, breathing loudly through her mouth, looking at him pleadingly.

She closed her eyes and sighed as his thumbs brushed the moisture from her red, hot cheeks, his forehead pressed against hers exactly as it had been then.

That night.

"– and you are –" He hissed, clamping his fingers in her hair. "– you are fucking mine –"

[entitled-fangirl]

The middle of war. (P2)

Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: The reader is in recovery, and the two must manage life after the incident.

A/n: the High Valyrian is bad. Just... don't look at it

Part 1!

Masterlist

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Her recovery was long and painful, but she managed all the same. 

A few days in, Aemond had swore to take her to see Vhagar. 

The poor girl looked like a mess.

Due to her injury, she was unable to wear the tight corsets she was expected to, not that Aemond cared what she wore.

Hence why she was in a rather flowy dress that practically hung from her. 

He kept a hand on her at all times as they walked through the castle, not only to keep her balanced, but worried she could be taken again if he looked away. 

His anxiety didn't relax until they were with Vhagar. 

Y/n pulled herself away from Aemond and straight to Vhagar, so comfortable with the large beast that she held no fear for her. 

Vhagar's eyes focused on her, resting her head in the dirt to let the woman come near. 

She reached forward, hearing the dragon immediately purr with her touch. 

Aemond couldn't help the slightly amused smirk that came to his lips. Gods, she was a wonder. 

She gently cooed to the dragon as if it was a small puppy, "Pretty girl. I haven't seen you in days. It seems a lifetime."

"You spoil her," Aemond spoke up. 

She turned to him, "She deserves it."

He sighed and neared Vhagar, running his hands over one of her scales as well, "She is not mistreated, I assure you."

"You do owe her an apology," she pointed out. 

A low rumble comes from the dragon. 

Aemond grumbled and shook his head, "Shijetra issa (Forgive me)."

"That's not good enough," she said as she moved her entire body to lean on the dragon's cheek. "You have to mean it. You were so rude."

"I was saving your life!" He reasoned. 

"I do not care-"

"Do not say that." He growled suddenly.

She sighed, "I did not mean it that way. Ziry daoriot gūrogon naejot sagon yelled rȳ (She doesn't deserve to be yelled at)."

Aemond looked up at the saddle. A shudder goes through him when he sees her blood still stain the fabric. "She understands I am not angry with her."

"Does she?"

He huffed, forcing himself to take a deep breath, "Shijetra issa syt issa udra (Forgive me for my words)."

Y/n began to get distracted, her hands running down the large dragon as she began to move. 

He watched her cautiously as if ready to catch her at any moment. 

"You're lucky, you know," she finally said. 

His eye softened, "I know."

She turned to him, "I mean it. I… I would have done anything for a dragon. Especially a gentle giant like her."

Aemond felt his chest tighten. 

Her egg had never hatched. 

"Gevie tala (beautiful girl)," she muttered to Vhagar. Her hands reached out occasionally to fix a scale.

Vhagar purred under all the attention. 

"Kiz. Gevie (Yes, beautiful)." Aemond said as he looked at her.

…

"Brother?" Aemond asked as he stood from his chair in the library. 

Y/n turned to see Aegon standing in the doorway. 

He grinned, "Hello, brother." He quickly rounded everything and bee-lined to the girl, "How are you?"

Her brows furrowed, "'m… fine."

Aegon had never been cruel to her, no. Not the extent he had to Aemond, but he hadn't gone out of his way for her. 

Aegon nodded, "Excellent! That's wonderful news." He sat next to her on the sofa. "I must ask something of you. I need an opinion."

Aemond forced himself to sit back down slowly as he watched the interaction closely.

"Oh," she hummed. "I'm not sure I am of much assistance-"

"-Nonsense." He leans back, getting comfortable on the sofa. "You see, I'm getting Jaehaerys a dagger for his next nameday."

"That is hardly a question for me. Aemond could-"

"-Let me finish!" He said annoyed, "I am getting the handle wrapped. I cannot decide a color."

"That is where I help?" She asked. 

"Yes." He looked up in mock thought, "I'm stuck between green or…" his head lulled to look at her, "…black."

Aemond leaned forward annoyed, "Brother-"

Aegon held a finger up, "Ah. I did not ask you."

She bit the inside of her cheek. "I suppose you wish me to say green."

"I don't wish you to say anything but the color you believe best." He grinned. 

"Aegon," Aemond tried again. 

"I am your king!" Aegon yelled, "Do speak to me like one."

Silence filled the room.

"Green," she finally said. "Green would look just fine. Jaehaerys is a fortunate boy."

"He is," Aegon said as he studied her. "He'll be quite handsome, won't he?"

She tilted her head, "I suppose he will. Time will tell."

"And you're a pretty girl, aren't you?"

She could practically feel Aemond's shoulders move back, "I'm… I'm sorry?"

"Your king says you're pretty."

"Oh. T…Thank you, my king."

Aegon looks over to Aemond, seeing him practically seething. He grins before standing, "Green it shall be then!"

He begins to leave before pausing in the doorway, "Oh. And pretty girl?"

Y/n looks over to him, "Yes, my king?"

"You said green is a fine color. Wear it when we all sup tonight."

Aemond felt like tearing the king's throat out.

When the door shut behind Aegon, she asked her husband, "What did I do?"

"He's been acting strange since you left." He sneered. 

The door opened. "Prince. Princess. A letter."

Her eyes widened.

Aemond shot up before she could move, adamant about keeping her movement down to a minimum. "I shall take it."

The servant left quickly and Aemond unraveled the note as fast as he could, his eye roaming over the scribbled handwriting.

"Well?" She asked in hope. 

Aemond hummed and his head tilted as he read it again. 

She huffed and got up. 

Only then did his eye look over to her, "Hey."

A hand shot to her forehead and she stumbled.

He quickly moved to her, "No, no, no." His hand moved around her waist, "Sit back down. Sit down."

She sat down with a huff and Aemond sat next to her, "It's from your mother."

"Read it to me."

Aemond looked back down at it.

"The Prince and Princess, I am most overjoyed at the recovery of the princess. As precious as she has become on both sides, I did not imagine her being caught in the crossfire.   May the gods watch her no matter how the war may end. I do not bluff when I say your letter was most surprising. And as much as I despise doing so, I must thank you, Prince Aemond, for it being sent. I had lost much sleep in the days before in worry.  Please tell her I love her."

Aemond looked back up at his wife, "Please do not expect more letters like this."

She nodded with teary eyes, "I understand."

He reached up and brushed hair from her face, "You're too good."

"Hmm?"

He smiled lightly, "Too good. Too… optimistic. It's sickening at times."

She let out a light chuckle as she wiped her cheek, "I do not believe you."

"You're right." He leaned in and kissed her gently, "You could not sicken me even if you tried." He pulled away with a smirk, "Are you truly going to wear green tonight?"

She faked a grimace, "Now perhaps I'll be sick."

He let out an amused chuckle, "Such is life, my sweet." He sighed and leaned back on the sofa, "But don't worry. I'll rip it off you just the same."

............................................................

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 8

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, canon-typical violence, threats, yelling, plot

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: 1.8K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“Feet together, shoulders back, strong core, and breathe.” Your eyes are closed, finding a moment of peace as you lead your sons through your morning yoga routine.

“This is supposed to be a challenge?”

“That doesn’t sound like breathing Luke,” you laugh, opening your eyes to see the bored look on Luke and Joffrey’s faces. Jace, to his credit, was trying to concentrate. “Inhale as you reach to the sky,” you say as you bring your arms up, “and exhale as you go down.” Exhaling, you fold your body down, hands touching the floor. You lead them through a sun salutation before indulging them in some more complicated poses and sequences.

“Our next pose is Crow, just remember to breathe and find your center.” You demonstrate before walking them through the steps. Yoga was one of the few things about your old life that you refused to give up. Even if you weren’t the most active person before waking up here, yoga and meditation were a huge part of your daily routine. Within a week of being here, you found yourself slipping out of bed early to find a quiet balcony.

The boys had stumbled across your morning flow today, and insisted on giving it a try. It was rare that you shared pieces of your past life with anyone, but their enthusiasm was infectious.

“Ah-” Joffrey lost his balance, falling to the ground in a fit of giggles. 

“So close sweet boy,” you laugh. “Try it again, you almost had it-”

“Mom look, I’m doing it!” 

You gasp, “Luke, that’s it! Hold it, and bre-”

“Breathe! I know!” Luke’s arms are shaking with the effort to keep the position, but you’re impressed he managed to get it on the first try.

Jace leans over and nudges Luke. Luke topples over with a yelp. “Mom, Jace pushed me!”

You struggle to keep from laughing at the petty squabble. It felt so normal and domestic to see them arguing like siblings back home. “Jace, apologize to your brother.” 

Jace grins, “Sorry Luke. Maybe next time if you breathe better you might not fall.”

Joffrey stumbles over to drop into your lap. You stand, propping him on your hip. “On that note my loves, I will be taking Joffrey to the nursery.” You kiss Jace and Luke on the forehead. “You two go freshen up, I will see you both for breakfast.”

They both give you a hug before disappearing. You turn to leave the balcony and nearly run into someone. “That was quite the sight, issa jorrāelagon,” Rhaenyra says, holding out her hands to steady you and Joffrey. [my love]

“Issa Dāria,” you greet her with a kiss. “Were you spying on us?” [My Queen]

“Me, a spy? Never.” Nyra laughs. “I have people for that.” She ruffles Joffrey’s hair before offering her your arm. You slide your free hand into the crook of her elbow, careful to make sure you had a good grip on Joffrey. “Daemon and I are both aware of your little morning ritual.”

“Oh?”

“How do you think no servants disturb you?” Rhaenyra teases. “Daemon and I take turns watching from the stairwell and keeping the staff away.”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “How long have you both known?”

“Since the first time.” 

“Maybe next time you can join,” you say, bumping your shoulder into Nyra’s gently.

“And forfeit the opportunity to watch your as-”

“Child present!” you hiss, interrupting your wife. Nyra laughs, shaking her head. You both walk the rest of the way to the nursery in silence, listening to Joffrey recount his brave efforts to master the Crow Pose. You drop him at the nursery, asking the maids to help him freshen up while you and Rhaenyra check in on little Aegon and Viserys.

“My queen,” you both stand up as a knight rushes into the room with a bow. “My queen, there is something that requires your immediate attention.”

“Whatever is the matter that it cannot wait until the small council meeting?” Rhaenyra asked. 

“There is a woman demanding an audience.”

“I am holding court later today, she can seek an audience then.”

“She claims knowledge of Lady Y/N’s illness.” 

Your gaze snaps to Rhaenyra and you lock eyes. There is a silent understanding before Nyra answers. “Bring her to the small council chambers and send for Daemon.”

You ask the maids to inform the boys of your absence at breakfast and follow Nyra to the small council chambers. “Do you think she really has an answer?”

“I do not wish to raise any of our hopes,” Rhaenyra sighed. 

Nyra stands by the windows, arms crossed as she waits. You pace the chambers. This was highly unusual. Maesters had come from all corners of the realm to offer their ‘wisdom’ and ‘cures’ for your ailment. This was certainly the first time that someone had showed up to demand an audience with the queen herself. The smallfolk and nobles were not privy to your condition. The maesters were summoned under vague direction and sworn to secrecy.

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.” 

Rhaenyra’s kingsguard stand at attention as the doors open to reveal a woman dressed in white, led by Nyra’s knights. You furrow your brows, unable to get a good glimpse of the woman through her cloak. The woman bows deeply to Rhaenyra, then to you. “Your highness. Lady Y/n.”

“And who might you be?” Rhaenyra asks, suspicion lacing her voice.

The woman nods, pulling back the hood of her cloak to reveal a curtain of white hair and cloudy white eyes. She looked young, but there was something about her that felt ancient. “I am no one.” She responds. “I carry a message from the gods.”

Rhaenyra scoffs, “you must be joking. You enter my keep, demand an audience, refuse to identify yourself, and claim to be a messenger of the gods?”

“You need not my name, only hear my words.”

“Which gods bade you come here?”

“The same gods you swore your marital oaths before.” Despite her cloudy eyes, the woman seemed to stare into Nyra. 

“What message do you bring? What do you know of my illness?” You ask, desperate for an answer.

“The worlds-walker speaks?” she grins. 

“Y/n,” Nyra warns. 

“Just tell me your message.”

“Your answers lie in the godswood.” The woman reaches into her pocket, and the knights immediately reach for their swords. Rhaenyra raises her hand, silently ordering them to hold. The woman pulls a necklace from her pocket. 

“Where did you get that?” you ask, voice shaking. “That’s the necklace my gra-”

“Your grandmother gave you on your fifteenth name day,” the woman finishes. She steps forward, placing the chain in your hand, clasping her hands over yours. “You must return to your world, worlds-walker.”

“Watch your words witch,” Nyra says coldly, stepping between you and the woman.

“How do you know of my world?” You ignore Rhaenyra, stepping away to face the woman.

“We are all pieces of ourselves.”

“What does that even mean?” 

“Words alone will not satisfy you. Go to the godswood, worlds-walker.” 

The doors to the small council chambers fling open as Daemon storms in. The woman in white grins. “The dragons circle today.”

“They will do more than circle if you do not explain yourself,” Rhaenyra growls. “Stop speaking in riddles and tell us what awaits us in the godswood.”

“Answers.”

“Daemon.” Rhaenyra doesn’t have to say more than his name before Daemon holds a sword to the woman in white’s throat. “What is in the godswood.”

“Wait!” you put your hand over Daemon’s, trying to pull the sword from the woman’s throat. “What are you doing, she knows what happened to me.”

“The witch speaks in riddles and lies,” Rhaenyra hisses. “Worlds-walkers are a story for children.”

“And dragons are no more than a fairy tale in my world.” You plead. “Please, how did I get here? What is a worlds-walker?”

“Go to the godswood.” The woman in white closes her eyes and pulls her hood up. Everyone in the room gasps as the cloak hits the ground, empty. The woman in white had disappeared, leaving only her cloak behind.

Rhaenyra sighs, “first maesters, and now we are so desperate as to listen to the words of witches?”

“Search the castle for the witch,” Daemon orders the knights.

“My love, I am so sorry for giving you false hope,” Rhaenyra apologizes, pulling you into a side hug. 

You shrug off her hug. “Where is the godswood?”

Rhaenyra and Daemon exchange a glance. “You are not seriously listening to the ramblings of a mad witch?”

“Either take me to the godswood, or I will find it myself.” You clench your necklace tightly. “You still do not believe me? Rhaenyra, she knew who I was, who I really am.”

“You are not a worlds-walker, Y/n!” You flinch slightly as Rhaenyra raises her voice. Her eyes are wide, “My love, I-” Rhaenyra reaches out to grab your hand, but you pull away. She sighs, rubbing her temples. “If it will help us forget this morning, we will visit the godswood.”

“Lead the way.”

Daemon and Rhaenyra walk in front of you in utter silence. Two kingsguard follow the three of you from a distance. Daemon leads the way as you walk through unfamiliar corridors to a garden. The trees sway lightly in the wind, their red leaves dancing.

“This is it?” you ask. “This is the godswood?”

Rhaenyra nods, “we will take you to the heart tree and back. If you do not find your answers here, we will never speak of this again.”

You follow them into the trees. It is eerily quiet in the godswood. The wind makes no noise as it moves through the leaves and branches. No noise of birds chirping or singing. You shiver, hugging your arms to your body to chase away the chill. “Daemon, can I have your cloak?” You look up to see that Daemon and Nyra are gone.

“Daemon?!” You yell. “Rhaenyra?!” There is no response. You turn behind you. The kingsguard are gone as well. “This isn’t funny!”

The hair on your neck stands up, and you whip around to see the woman in white.

“Welcome worlds-walker.”

NOTE: Hey gang! Guess who is finally getting some plot (ya'll). Sorry for the late chapter, I had a Pride parade on Sunday. Please enjoy the SHAMELESS fluff and slice of life before I give you all a very stereotypical vague witch to facilitate the plot. Also, there are some ppl who I can’t tag, so if you’re listed on the tag list and not receiving notifications, please check that your settings are on “allow this blog to appear in search results” or message me if I messed up the spelling! ~ Lacie <3

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[jacaerysgf]

Deja vu Pt. 2

Summary: You have successfully secured your marriage with aemond. But what of his reaction? what of what your family will think? Secrets are spilled, feelings are all mixed up and you are thrown into the future that you now have no clue what will happen, what will happen will only be what you make of it.

w.c: 10k

c.w: spoilers for the future of hotd mentioned, a lot of feelings, father daemon, and some smut. not proofread

a.n: sorry this took forever pls let me know what you guys think!! <3

taglist: @venmondiese @a-mexican-waffle @alwaysholymilkshake @seabasscevans @darylandbethfanforever9 @chloe-skywalker @m-riaa (if i missed anyone im sorry)

part one part three masterlist - requests are open

It takes you awhile to stand up. You sort of just sit there for a while, unable to believe what has just happened.

He had touched you.

He had kissed you.

One of your hands shakily comes up and touches your bruised lips, allowing yourself to get some semblance. It had been real, if the slick that sticks to your thighs and the pulsing ache between your legs was not enough.

Your legs wobble as you try to stand, you actually end up falling back onto the bench before you successfully stand and slowly make your way back to your room. Your mind is a muck. You can’t think. Not right now. Hopefully not ever. You don't want to think about anything. Not about what had just happened. Not about the dinner that will occur later. Not about Him. Nothing at all.

You will nap before dinner, a part of you hoping you don't wake up. You finally manage to get there after an agonizing walk, not before stopping a maid and requesting a bath drawn for you. You can't stand the sticky feeling between your legs. When you enter the room you let out a sigh of relief. You just want to mentally escape from it all so you jump when you turn around and clutch your chest.

“kepa.”

You and daemon had a different relationship than his other children. Your three birth brothers had not taken to calling him father, not that daemon was not nice to them. He treated them well and made sure they grew up to be proper men, but it had felt awkward for them. Rhaenyra and daemon married so quickly after your “fathers” death and it just had made things awkward.

To his and especially your mother's surprise you had quickly taken to calling him father which he enjoyed. He ended up showering you with affections he would normally only save for his dragon. You had no issue with him, not feeling the awkwardness your brothers had, you had no clue why but it just had become a habit to calling him father. You tried to ignore the guilt you felt whenever you would look at rhaena, knowing of her now strained relationship with him yet you would always get to spend time with him.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he motions to the chair next to him and pats the cushion. You cannot deny him, he had made his way to your room and was sitting at your table. You sit down next to him, fiddling with your hands in your lap as you look anywhere but him. You have yet to speak to him since yesterday morning, making an effort to avoid him at all costs. You know he would question you, swiftly interrogated you.

“Kepa-” “Let me speak first.” You swiftly close your mouth and tense. He crosses his arms and leans back into his card, his gaze doesn't leave your face. “You will tell me why you have been acting so strangely.” “I have not-” “You will not lie to me girl.” You stay silent for a while, your world feels like it's closing in around you. You close your eyes tightly, hoping the world will open up and suck you in, that a bolt of lightning will come and strike you.

Suddenly a hand is places on your leg and your head shoots up, his face has changed into a softer one, only reserved for you. “Skoros iksos ziry ao issa zaldrīzes?” (what is it you my dragon?)

You look down at your lap and your whirlwind of emotions comes spilling out. You tell him everything. From lucerys death to blood and cheese to rooks rest and to your death. Your plans of what you are doing now, why you are trying to do this. Everything. Though you admittedly leave out some details like what had just occurred this afternoon... It feels good to finally tell someone whats been going through your head.

You don't know how long you had been talking but once you stop the room is dead silent. He says nothing for a while, putting his hand on his chin and he looks as of he’s in deep thought. You anxious watch his face, your hands pick and prodded at the fabric of your dress, pulling on loose threads. You must sound insane and he will tell you as such.

“I believe you.”

Your mouth opens in shock. He taps his fingers on the table as he speaks, “Of course those fucking hightower cunts would do that. i should go slit their throats right now.”

You shake your head as you try not to think about how your stomach churns at the thought of aemond dying.

“That would be a terrible idea.”

“And you would rather lucerys die?”

“My plan will work kepa i am certain of it plus you would be hung for treason.”

“Is it truly treason if i have good reason? nobody likes them anyway i would be deemed a hero.”

“You do not like them kepa you do not speak for everyone.”

“Are you saying you like them? You like aemond?”

You don't know anymore.

These last couple months you had hated him. You despise him. Wished him dead every moment. But when you were kids you thought he was sweet. He never did anything truly wrong to you personally though you understand your siblings distain for him. You would always reprimand your brothers for following with aegon’s schemes and usually got them to apologize to him.

Maybe you had affections for him you kept locked up for a long long time. When you had come back to the keep for the first time you had thought he was handsome and tried not to think any deeper than that. It was easy when you were so distracted by your brothers trial and he had pissed you off when he called you all bastards during the dinner.

This reminds you of something you had forgotten. Did he still call you a bastard? Would he mumble it under his breath as you walk away from him?

You are probably the most clueless person in the whole keep.

“Does it matter if i do?”

“Were you with him just now?”

You nod, a confused look gracing you face as he laughs to himself. “What?”

“I could tell you like him very much.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“It is very obvious to tell when a lady has been fooling around with a man. You are lucky i am the only one who wished to see you this afternoon.”

You flush as his hand comes up and fiddles around with your hair. Was it truly that obvious? You had been sitting here this whole time and he knew?

“kepa-”

“i will not question you on your affairs. You are free to do as you wish,” He holds up his hand to stop you from speaking, “and i truly do not wish to think about that hightower cunt putting his hands on you. and hopefully it was just his hands.”

“Daemon!”

“So im just daemon now? im hurt.”

You lean back in your chair and a silence befalls you two once more. The door opens and you two turn your heads to the maid. “Your bath is ready princess.” You nod and wave her away, stating you wished to bath yourself this afternoon, because you would be embarrassed about how messy you must be but request someone sent in to help you get dressed. She nods and leaves swiftly.

You turn to daemon who stands and you follow suit. He grabs your arms and stares at you. “if you truly believe your plan will work i will advise you to try and put a wedge between himself and the rest of his family. He will choose them over you in a heartbeat. You must swiftly put in the effort and attempt to make him not trust them. However you see fit.”

He places a kiss on your forehead but before he can walk off you grab his arm, “You are not going to do anything stupid right?”

He merely smirks at you and that tells you all you need to know, letting go of his arm and not even bothering to watch him leave as you quickly make your way to the tub before undresses and submerging yourself to the steaming hot water.

You scrub and your scrub at any exposed skin you can reach hoping to scrub off whatever infectious potion he has laced into your skin. You can’t help but think about him, and attempt to ignore the way a heated pit forms in your stomach as you recall his words, his actions, what he had done to you.

You don’t know how to feel, you wish someone would come down and give you the answers you seek. Why did feelings have to be so complicated? You scrub until your skin turns red before throwing your head back against the tub and closing your eyes. He seemed rather eager to engage in your ‘affections’ you cant tell if it stems from him being able to tell you are trying to trick him or if he is genuine and wants you.

You had apparently fallen asleep and are woken to a maid shaking your shoulder concerned urging you out of the bath quickly as you had been in there far too long, your hands and feet had pruned. You look to the window and see the sun had set, were you truly in the tub for that long?

The maid holds the dress you had been wearing the last time you were at the dinner and an idea pops up into your head. “I wish to wear the newer dress.” She looks at you shocked, “Something big is happening tonight i should like to look my best.” You know this will cause the maids and the squires to talk and that's exactly what you want, you want them to be on edge this whole dinner, waiting for the bomb that will inevitably drop and by the look on the maids face as you grin happily you can tell this will be the talk of the keep halls.

You see the look of shock when you open your door on jacaerys face as he looks upon your outfit, “You,, look beautiful sister.” You smile and grab his arm, “and you look as proper as ever brother.” “Do not humor me.” “I am merely stating the truth.” You say with a laugh that has him glaring at you and pinching your arm causing you to yelp and slap his chest.

You soon enough walk into the dinning hall with lucerys and the dragon twins trailing behind you and immediately look to aemond who stands in front of aegon with a bored look. You freeze as you see him look at you and a light smirk befalls his face, you decide to be brave and keep your eyes on him as he stares for another long moment before he looks back. Aegon turns his head and looks at you with a tilt of his head before back to his brother and quickly back to you before turning once more and the two seemingly begun to be in a heated discussion.

You eyes however wonder off to otto who stands in a far, dark corner of the room a squire speaking into his ear before his eyes lock onto you and he looks worriedly back at otto before he bows and walks off. Otto looks over at you with what can only be interpreted as annoyance and curiosity, you merely wiggle your fingers at him in a little wave before you walk over to a seat. You choose to sit near lucerys in the hopes to keep his attention off of aemond though when you look at aemond as he sits you see that he does not look pleased.

You cannot worry about it now as viserys is brought in and alicent starts with a prayer. You look at aemond whos lost in prayer his hands folded neatly in front of him with his eye closed. He looks like a painting, like if someone had hand painted or a statue that someone had hand carved. It is rare to see a man as handsome as he is. Your eyes widen as he opens his eye to look at you before it closes again and you swiftly turn away from his direction to lucerys who is eyeing his plate but looks up at you and smiles.

Soon enough the food is brought and the on slot of speeches occur. It’s jarring to hear the same phrases and the same sentences heard over and over and over again. You merely continue to conversate with lucerys in the hopes aemond will not get irritated as he did last time. Something out of the ordinary does happen as viserys taps on his glass and everyone turns to look at him.

“In light of this beautiful day i would like to give one last final announcement.” You hold your breath and look to daemon who looks at you with a raised brow and a small chuckle. “I am so happy to know our families will join together once more with the engagement of my son aemond and rhaenyra's daughter y/n.” The table grows dead quiet. Even the staff in the room stops in their place at his words.

Alicent is the first to break it, “That is,,,” She struggles to finish her own sentence as she blinks rapidly, “So wonderful.” Rhaenyra straightens up in her seat and brushes her hand down the front of her dress letting out a confused sound before she speaks, “Yes, so wonderful, what brought on such a decision.”

“y/n had come to me and ask for permission herself.”

At this every head in the room turns in your direction, you let out an anxious laugh as you quickly wipe a drop of sweat that begins to run down your face and let a clearly forced smile grace your face.

Aegon quickly begins to laugh, almost falling out of seat as alicent leans forward to scold him. As daemon begins to chuckle rhaenyra places her hand on his arm, “Did you know about this?” He does not answer, continuing to merely shake his head as he takes another drink from his cup.

You look at the dragon twins and jacaerys who are staring at you with wide eyes while you feel lucerys place his hand on yours, “What is going on sister?” You shrug as you try your best to keep the smile on your face under their stares, “I do not know what you wish for me to say. You should remember what i said.” Jacaerys leans towards you his face furious, “But that should not mean you must marry the man!” His words are hushed yet angry but he seems to settle down a little as baela places a hand on his shoulder. You simply shake your head and do not dare to look at aemonds direction, instead choosing to fiddle around with the food on your plate.

You are so curious to know what he is thinking and you do not attempt to listen to their side of the table, instead as much as you hate it, focus on the scolding you are getting from your siblings and they do not seem to care you give them no response. Things around you finally begin to settle down as viserys is carried out the room and the room grows quiet again.

You grow more and more anxious as you watch helaena speak and know that in the past this is when the night began to fall apart. You rack your mind quickly as you try to decipher what to do. You still do not dare to look at aemond as if he would be any help. You do not bother to think before you act as you see jacaerys almost stand to go offer helaena a dance as you shoot up from you seat holding your cup as everyone stares at you. “I know everyone is sick of speeches but if i could give the last one.”

You relax as you see jacaerys settle into his seat and stare up at you as you take a deep shaky breath before you speak. “I would first and foremost like to acknowledge how wonderful it is to be here with everyone despite the unfortunate circumstances,” You let out a light laugh awkward laugh before continuing, “and i would mostly like to shout out my future husband.” You finally look at him.

He is as stoic as ever but he keeps his eye firm on you. You look for any sort of reaction from him but he merely continues to stare at you like you’re nothing and you lose your confidence, “um,,” You look to daemon who raises his eyebrows at you and his words from earlier come pummeling back into you.

He will choose them over you in a heartbeat. You must swiftly put in the effort and attempt to make him not trust them. However you see fit.

“Our union is a beautiful one, though my letters to you had gone unanswered, i am more than hopeful to make up for the lost time with a timeless bond we shall share. To us.” Your raise your glass to him as his eye widens and his head slowly turns to his mother and otto who look confused at your words and you sit down swiftly with a satisfied look.

Even if he does not like you, you believe letting him believe you had attempted to contact him the years you were apart and alicent or otto or both had hid it from him would be enough to atleast allow him to feel a bit of discomfort towards them, even though you knew it was not enough you would have to do more.

To your relief or maybe even your horror the night quickly closes after your speech and you are unsure of what to do now. This was uncharted territory. In the past you were quickly rushed to your room to pack up your stuff to leave but now you were saying a friendly goodnight to their side of the family and swiftly rushing out of the room before aemond or anyone for that matter could approach you.

You try your best to make it to your room, you can even see the door before you are suddenly scooped up and throw over his shoulder. “kepa put me down!”

“Your mother wishes to speak to you.” “I don’t want to.” you groan in defeat as you try to pull yourself off him but he keeps his arms firmly around you until you walk into a room and he places you down on the couch before taking a seat next to you.

You avoid eye contact with your mother who is pacing directly Infront of you. “I am very angry with you.” “I am sorry mother.” She runs his hands sown her face and stops pacing, standing straight at you with her arms crossed. “This is not something to take lightly you must consult me on these types of things.” “I’m sorry.”

You look down at your lap as you rethink over your decisions. Maybe you did not think this through. You should have talked to her atleast and now she has to deal with the stress of your rash decision. She sits down next to you and grabs your hands in hers. “Is this truly what you want?”

You don’t know anymore. Tonight went a lot better than you had expected. Well maybe it had only gone well because you had intervened when you did but maybe you did not need to marry him for this family to be salvaged. But you certainly cannot take it back now. Maybe you could, maybe they could convince viserys he had imagined the whole thing and you guys could go back to normal which meant the two of you would never speak.

Yet you cannot risk anything happening to your family.

“Yes it is mother.” She lets out a long breath and tightens her grip on you, “Then it is done.”

You let out a shaky breath as you put a grin on your face. You cannot tell how you feel but you are more curious about how he must feel about all this. He must be so confused and you hope he is at least pleased about it. Someone must be.

“Then we will return home in a few days and you can stay here-“

“no!”

You and daemon say at the same time, both of you sitting up in alarm and she leans back in shock looking between the two of you.

“what is with you two? is there something you aren’t telling me?”

the two of look at one another slowly before you turn back to rhaenyra.

“of course not.” “certainly not mother.”

She squints her eyes at the two of you, “are you sure?”

“definitely not.” “No no no.”

She moves on despite clearly not believing you guys. “Then we shall stay, if you so insist…”

you and daemon let a sigh of relief and she continues to look at you two confused. “I will let you two keep this secret you have for now but you will tell me the next time i ask you hear me?”

“yes mother.”

She leans over and cups your cheeks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “now me and your father have much to discuss. Head straight to bed.” You nod and turn to your father placing a kiss on his cheek causing him to smile and grab your face lightly before you stand and say goodnight leaving the room.

You cannot wait to get back to room so you can finally relax for the first time this whole evening, quickly flopping onto your bed and trying to sleep having no regard to change out of your dress merely wishing to escape to the dream world. Now you were walking into this blind, you have so much false confidence as you knew how the events would play out but now you are more than lost. In the past you had been packing up your stuff to hop on a carriage back to dragonstone but now you were staying in the keep. Betrothed.

You had not thought this far clearly. You would be married. It was your duty of course and your mother had begun talking about finding you a suitor but you always brushed it off believing it to be a problem for future you. But future you is here and now you will have to do as women do and marry, lay on the birthing bed to have children.

You will think about this tomorrow. as you fade off into dream land, a small part of you hopes to meet him there.

“Aemond you must see reason they clearly are trying to manipulate you. I shall talk to the king and make him-” “There is no need.”

“Aemond! I will not allow you to marry that girl, you know what she is a b-” “Do not say it.”

Alicent is desperate to get aemond to care about this the way she does but aemond seemed so far away, simply staring at the wall not sparing her a glance. This was not the son she knew, the son she raised and she did not like that.

“Aemond please-“ “Did she truly send me letters?” Alicents blinks, shocked at his question, frozen in confusion, when he scoffs at her appearance and goes to stand she snaps out of it and stands with him. “Obviously she did not aemond. She is lying! I cannot believe you are allowing her to get into your head like this!” Aemond says nothing as she grabs his forearms and looks into his eye. “They are lying to you aemond this is scheme to get you to fall into their trap, to lure you int a false sense of security, son please.”

The two stand in silence for a good moment. The only words exchanged is another please escaping alicents lips. Yet he says nothing at all merely ripping his arms from her grip and fleeing from her room leaving her to call after him. He did not turn back and she flops down on the couch in defeat. Her head in her hands, what was she to do?

You wake up to maids urging you out of bed, scolding you for having fallen asleep in your night clothes and swiftly rushing you to a bath. For a moment you had forgotten about the events of last night and you were at peace until as you were getting dressed another maid came into the room.

“The queen has requested to have tea with you princess.”

You certainly cannot refuse a request from the queen no matter how sick it made you. As you are led there you try to run though any scenario you could think of, would she try to talk you out of the engagement? Would she berate you for lying about sending aemond letters? What if she was actually happy about the betrothal? no certainly not. You remember her clear distain at the idea of halaena and Jacaerys getting married and you’re certain she feels no different about you. maybe you could try and convince her it would be beneficial. But you have no benefits to your name and in truth neither does aemond. Both set to inherit nothing. Your brothers to claim driftmark and dragonstone you truly have nothing to your name other than your blood.

There were no benefits to marrying you. Similar to aemond but he could have a much better life, marry into one of the great houses and become the head of the house. You have stripped him of that, even in the past he was set to marry into house baratheon, though you know he does not honor these arrangements, and had prospects a plenty. And you have stripped him of that. You should be happy he is stuck marrying you for he has lost the ability to inherit anything, yet you cant find yourself happy you only feel sorry for him.

You mentally prepared so hard that when you walked into the room you are unsure what to do when you see your mother and alicent sitting side by side chatting with smiles on their face with aemond sitting opposite of them, a free chair besides him. When they see you they rush you over to sit down next to them, aemond stand and pulls out the chair for you. You let out a hushed thank you as you smile at him and he hums with a faint of smirk on his face as he looks you over before sitting back down himself.

You are poured a cup before the commotion begins once more. “Now that you’ve arrived we should talk about the pressing matters.” You gulp and glance at aemond who blinks. The two ladies flow back into the discussion they were in before, a light argument with both of them showing their stubborness. “It is tradition she be married in the ways of the old gods and it is valriyan traidition. Im sure your son would also like to be married in the way all his ancestors had been.” “And my son also follows the faith of the seven and it would be incredible disrespectful to him should he not be married under the seven.”

“Why dont we just do both?” They turn to you and you merely shrug. “we could do a smaller more intimate ceremony with just family on dragonstone before we have a more formal wedding in the grand sept or whatever its called. Its respectful for both of us and everyone is happy,” you turn to aemond who is already looking at you, “Right?” He hums once more and nods, “Though it matters not to me where we marry it is a good idea nonetheless.”

The two women contemplate the idea before alicent begrudgingly agrees. “It is not an awful idea. but it would be hard to secure the grand sept.” This has your mother turning to her confused. “why ever not?” “Aemond is my second son, we only got the grand sept for aegon because-“ “The high septon shall listen to me when i ask. She is my first daughter and is to be treated as such.”

So the two ladies were in agreement and you let out a sigh of relief. Though you could feel alicents stare burning into you whenever she thought you could not notice but she was more than obvious. Youre more than grateful for the two other people in the room for only the gods know what she would be saying to you should the two of you be alone.

they get so lost in their conversation they barely even notice the two of you. You cant help but glance at aemond and he appears bored, fiddling around with a coin between his fingers. you ignore the fact that your thighs squeeze together while you eye his fingers for a moment too long. “im sorry.” you cant help but say in a hushed voice in his direction. He looks upon you shocked, glancing quickly to his mother but the two barely notice him before he looks back at you. “whatever for?”

“for dropping this on you so suddenly. I was wrong not to consult you before asking grandsire.” You do not know why you feel so sorry now. He is the man who killed your brother for gods sake but now youre sitting here feeling sorry for him? His eye is wide as he looks at you blinking as if he had not heard you right. He takes a few moments to compose himself before he coughs lightly into the fist of his hand. “You should not apologize. I am more than happy that you had asked him about it.” You tilt your head as your heart pounds in your chest, “He probably would have rejected me when i would have asked. My mother would certainly never do it in my stead.” “You planned on asking him?” Your words are strained yet still hushed.

He leans in closer to you and you freeze. “If i have not been obvious enough with my affections then allow me to make them clear to you now. I planned on marrying you whether our family agreed or not. If you do not believe me i am more than happy to show you how i feel like how i had done in the garden.”

You flush as he pulls away. a rush of emotions flow into you, you’re sure your soaked under your dress right now but you cant think about that right now as the two women turn to look at you guys. “I believe it is best we wait a few months to even think about these weddings,” “And i say its best we begin the prep immediately there is no reason to wait but maybe it is best we wait.”

You cannot let them push the wedding back too far. You would even prefer if this union was set in stone right here right now. You worry what will happen within the family should you wait too long to marry. Luckily for you aemond steps in, “I see no reason for delay, wouldnt you like for our father to be present for the ceremony? If we wait too long who knows what could happen.”

You are more than happy he stepped in instead of you though you doubt his reasons for wanting to push the wedding up are as pure as your reasoning is. Alicent, despite the flash of irritation that crosses her face a sad look graces it in its stead and she nods in agreement. “You are right. yet i doubt he would be able to travel to dragonstone in his condition.” “He could travel to the grand sept no? Im sure it would make him more than happy if he could be there.” Alicent looks at rhaenyra before she nods her head, “yes i suppose he could.” “then the matter is settle, we shall have a wedding in the grand sept and the celebrations here then travel to dragonstone where they shall be married and then they could even stay on dragonstone for a few days by themselves it could be a little trip for them.”

You blush at the idea of being in your childhood home with just aemond. Alone. As a married couple. You dare glance at him again and he has a pleased look on his face. his eye reaches yours and the smirk on his face grows at your embarrassed expression. You cannot believe this. “That sounds lovely.” Alicents words are strained but she makes no complaints, realizing it is a 3 vs 1 situation she only looks to rhaenyra. “And when would we be having these ceremonies?” “I see no reason why we cannot have it in two weeks time.” A lump suddenly grows in your throat and you cough into your elbow. ”Two weeks? That is ridiculous! Imagine what the people would think, they would think that…” Alicents words trail off as rhaenyra looks at her with a pointed look and she takes a deep breath. She does have a point as much as you hate to admit it. If you were to announce a sudden wedding the people would certain think the worst, probably that he had gotten you pregnant and you were forced to marry. You certainly cannot handle that. “What if we say we have been betrothed since childhood but are finally getting married now that aemond is older?” Alicent certainly tries her best not to glare at you though you dont let her know shes doing a terrible job yet your mother nods. “Thats perfect. Then its settled yes?”

Everyone at the table, though alicent is reluctant, nods their head in agreement and rhaenyra smiles. “Then me and the queen have a lot to discuss so you two are dismissed.” You go to stand with aemond and your mother turns to you, “Tomorrow i will call you down for the wedding planning.” You nod and bow at alicent with a pleased look as you leave, aemond trailing behind you.

You let out a breath of relief after the meeting. You did not know if viserys would live to the next two weeks you did not even know if he would live to tomorrow. But atleast you knew you would be in the keep when it happened. but whatever happens after that you’re sure your father has it figured out. You barely even notice aemond is walking beside you, your head almost spinning from relief. When you grip your head he turns to you, “Are you alright?” You nod but he seems insistent, grabbing your arm and leading you to sit down on one of the benches aligning the walls.

You lightly thank him while he kneels in front of you, pressing a hand in front of you forehead. “You dont feel warm.” He mumbles more so to himself, you close your eyes and press your head against his hand, the warmth of his hands feels nice against your skin. When you flutter your eyes open he has a smug look on his face so you full back and roll your eyes. Suddenly you realize how reminiscent of the garden the position you two are in now and flush, turning away from him.

He chuckles at your expression , “I did not know my lady was of such an indecent mind.” You glare at him, “And how does the prime and perfect prince know what i am thinking of?” A familiar look graces his eye and he leans in closer to you. you hold you breath as his smirk grows. “Because i am thinking the same thing. No i am thinking much much worse things.”

His words are hushed like they are forbiden they should be forbidden, for the way you shift in your seat and the pounding of your heart. He almost goes into kiss you before his eye widens and he stands. Footsteps.

“Aemond.” helaena looks upon you and smiles, “Good sister.” You smile back at her as best you can and let out a shaky breath, “Princess.” “Please we are to be sisters, you should refer to me as such.” You nod and let a real smile grace your face at her kindness. You have always liked helaena for she has always been kind unlike her brothers. Your eyes widen when you see she is holding jaehaerys, memories of hearing of his death flash in front of you and you try not to let your surprise show on your face. “As you wish good sister.” A big smile grows on her face at your words. “I have always wanted a sister, i am glad you shall be joining us here in the keep.”

You are not shocked to hear she does not consider rhaenyra her sister why would she? But it does rattle you back to earth and remind you why you are doing all this in the first place. For her. Your mother. to prevent a future that might kill her, that would kill you kill you all. You cannot afford to be blinded by pretty words and shove whatever feelings you had down. Standing up you run your hands along your skirt and put on your nicest face. “I am more than happy to be becoming your sister then. Do you have any plans this afternoon?” “I am to take jaehaerys to his lesson then i suppose i am free.” “Then let us chat this afternoon? just us girls.” You add in fear of aemond attempting to insert himself where you fear he will be. She nods eagerly, “Join me in taking him then.” You nod and politely bow to aemond, not missing the gleam in his eye before joining helaena and walking off. “Enjoy your afternoon.”

You do not turn back at his words but helaena does and sends him a smile. His words rattle you more than you would like to admit. You listen to helaena talk about whatever she wished to with a smile, you should not only focus on getting in good graces with aemond it should have always been a priority to focus on earning the good will of the others aswell. You will never gain otto or alicents but helaena and maybe even aegon you could certainly swing in your favor.

Your next few days follow a simply routine, you wake up, eat breakfast with your family, join helaena for stitching, avoid aemond as much as possible though it is easy with him keeping to his sword work and his books, wedding plan with your mother and alicent in the afternoon then eat dinner with the hightowers where you would make conversation with aegon when no one else would. It was simple yet you felt like you were walking on borrowed time each and everyday. You felt a sense of anxiety with every move you made, like someone was waiting for you to slip up, you were waiting every moment for the ball to drop, for viserys to die. Yet it did not happen. The wedding approached closer and closer the beginning of the festivities would begin tomorrow and he was still alive and well, as well as he can be.

You had finished breakfast and were walking to go see helaena but freeze as he stands in the hall, pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back. At the sounds of your footsteps he looks up at you and stands tall, staring at you. “My lady.” You bow your head, “My prince.” You walk forward towards him and he keeps his position, his eye trailing your every move. You have not spoken much to him, enough to keep civil and keep his attention but not enough for anything really to occur between the two of you, merely small chatter. You intend to keep it that way and move to walk past him, “Good day-” “I wish for you to join me today.” You freeze in your movement and keep you back to him.

You do not know what to do. It would be wrong to refuse him but you are nervous you may not be able to control yourself should you be alone with him. “Helaena is preoccupied this day, and, call me selfish but i wish to hear my future wife say more than five words to me today, if that is acceptable.” The tone in his voice tells you he has a wicked face on and he is content knowing he has called you out. You take a deep breath and turn around, “Of course my prince. I shall join you.”

“Call me Aemond,” He hums as he looks down at your outfit, “I would say put on your riding gear but i am sure you do not have any. This dress with do. Come.” He offers you his arm and you nervously take it, his words worrying you. “Where are we going?” When you to not grab his arm he laces his fingers with yours and begins to walk you two down the hall. “You are to be my wife you shall meet vhagar, she is eager to take a ride.”

You almost argue you do have riding gear until you remember you do not have a dragon. You did not claim one until the war when you claimed a wild one. Your heart aches at the memory but it is only shoved down at the anxiety that trails its way up. “No certainly not. i will do no such thing.” He smiles at your reluctance and continues to urge you along outside of the keep and you walk along a path covered with trees.

“Do not fret i will not allow any harm to come to you. I simply wish to spend some time with you.” “and you wish to do that on a dragon? why can you not train for today yes? I will sit in the courtyard and watch you all day! there is to be a tourney tomorrow you know.” You do not wish to do this, growing more annoyed with every step you take. “Yes a tourney i am more than sure to win in your honor.” His chest is puffed and he looks straight ahead with the confidence of a true dragon.

You scoff, his overconfidence is something you allowed to slip past your mind. “You have never fought in a tourney aemond.” “so you believe i will lose? where has the kind women who sung my praises gone hmm?” Your eyes widen at his words. You have been a fool! allowing yourself to get too comfortable with him. “Forgive me aemond i-” He switfly cuts you off and is pleased at your nervous look. “No no please continue i am so eager to hear what you truly think of me.” You pause and rethink what you will do what you will say. You cannot afford to mess this up with time so fragile.

“Allow me to apologize, i have been denying myself from seeing you, for i fear what i will do should i.” This has him shocked and you smile as you gain the upperhand, he blinks before a smile graces his face pulling you closer to him his grip on your hand tightening. “I am glad we are one in the same.” You are certainly not one in the same but you are also certainly not lying. You do fear what you will do, how you will allow yourself to lose control. It frightened you how much he could do to you.

You freeze as you stand in front of vhagar, she leans to eye you down and you take a step back while aemond speaks to her. He grabs your hand and places it on her nose and she lets out a long breath. “She likes you.” You scoff and shake your head, “I bet she wants to eat me.” “She does not eat people.” Your mind reels back to lucerys and you sigh, gripping at your chest. “Dragons can do anything.” His brow is raised in question but does not dare to say anything. He allows you to get familiar with vhagar and you cannot find yourself to relax despite the fact she is making no clear moves to harm you and does not intent to. He watches you as you shake still in fear and he moves to grab you gently, turning you to him. “If you wish we turn back now we can, i will not force you.”

He once again gives you an out as he always does, whenever you try so hard to make him a bad guy in your head he always twists and turns the story where you end up feeling back for misleading him. You nod and attempt to stand tall and confidence. “I will go.” You will do what you have to, for your family, and it does not hurt that the genuine smiles that graces his face is gorgeous.

He assists you on her and moves to sit behind you, grabbing your hands and covering them with his as he grabs the handles. You already feel as though you are way to far up but when aemond calls for her to rise and fly you close your eyes as the winds hit your face. The only sounds you hear as the flapping of vhagars wings as you soar higher and higher. You do not dare open them despite the fact you have spent the last couple months dragon riding. You fear you will be reminded of your last moments in the sky before you had fallen off, your breath quickens and his head falls on your shoulder, his lips right next to your ears sending shivers down your spine when he speaks. “Open your eyes.”

You do and it is glorious. Riding around the areas of kings landing are much more gorgeous than war. When you look around you do not see smoke you do not hear the sounds of metal crashing and screams and shouts, what you see is beautiful waters and lands and what you hear is merely the rippling's of the wings and the sound of Aemond breathing. “Its wonderful.” He hum and presses a kiss against your neck, “there is nothing more wonderful than this.” You hope he means flying. You are sure he means flying. You gulp and keep your head straight, taking in the sight around you instead of focusing on him. “I get why you do this so often.” “It clears my mind, you should join me when i fly.” Certainly not. You will not yet you do not find yourself refusing. You say nothing as you continue staring out the scenery before you.

The two of you are silent for awhile simply taking in the sky until his hands leave the tops of yours and wrap around your waist instead. “What are you doing?” “I wish to thank you.” “whatever for?” “for wishing to marry me,” you freeze as you begin to sweat despite the cool air hitting you.

“I, am no more than a second son. A cripple. Yet you asked for my hand despite that. When i have nothing to my name other than the one you already share. So thank you.” Your heart shatters. You begin to feel an ache in your chest and you close your eyes and lean into him. You feel awful. Sick to your stomach. He does truly seem to care for you and that makes everything far worse. You cant help but think to yourself would it be so bad to love him? to allow yourself to truly be happy in your marriage and your future together? The man behind you is not the man who killed your brother at least not in this life. or maybe not yet.

Yet you cannot help but turn around to look at him, he pulls away and keeps a firm grip on your hips as he stares at you, a far away look in his eye. “I wish you would not thank me.” “Why not? You have done more for me than you know i merely wish to honor you the way you deserve.” You shake your head and let out a weak no, he must not continue for it hurts too much. “Please don’t,” “I will, i will until i can no longer breath, i will do anything for you.” He presses your foreheads together and you should swiftly pull away from him, turn away and keep yourself locked up tight but you allow him to despite what your head was saying because it is what your heart wished for. “I can offer you nothing.” You say in return as you hope its true, not just in titles in lands in anything but you pray you cannot return his feelings either. Yet he simple rubs his nose against yours and you let out a shuddering breath. “I do not care.”

Your hands find his face and he pulls away from you. You simply stare at him, your eye falling to his eyepatch which he is quick to notice and goes to pull it away from his face. You stop him, “You do not have to, if you do not wish.” He smiles and pulls it away from his face. You are gasp lightly at the glimmering sapphire in his eye. You run your hand under his eye and he leans into your hand. “it is beautiful. You are beautiful.” He shakes his head and presses his forehead against yours. “There is no one more beautiful than you.”

He kisses you. It is not similar to the past kiss you have shared. This kiss is simpler, one made of pure love. Like he is pouring himself into you and you drink every drop of it up. In this one moment nothing else matters. Not the past present or the future just you and aemond above the world. You ignore every worry, every voice in your head telling you this is wrong. Just the feeling of his lips on your and the grip of his hands on your hips. His lips leave yours and trail down the side of your jaw down your neck, licking and sucking at the skin he can reach. Your hands grip his shoulders and you are pulled even closer to him as you revel in the pleasure. His lips trail back up to reach yours once more as one of hands leaves your waist and trails under your dress.

You let out some heaving breaths as he pulls away from you. “Allow me to make my debts right. To give you what you are owed.” You do not even think before you nod, without a care in the world as he presses his lips against yours against he trails his fingers along your slit. Unlike last time he barely wastes anytime before two fingers enter your and you let out a long moan that aemond drinks up as his tongue finds its way in your mouth. You have never felt like this before, with the rushing winds and the feeling of his course fingers inside your walls, his thumb toying with your clit. Aemond pulls away from your lips and you drop your head into his shoulder as he continues his movements inside you.

“You feel so good my sweet, fuck i will never tire of this.” You feel in slip in a third finger causing you to hiss at the stretch. You can focus on nothing other than the way he’s making you feel, you had thought the garden was the best it would get but somehow this was even better, you feel that pit in your stomach grow and grow leading you to bite into the fabric covering his shoulder to silence your only growing moans. “I want to hear you my sweet,” And he certainly hears you, with your battered breaths and shaky moans right next to his ear you can feel himself harden against you. You almost wonder if you should help him but being so close to your release you only think of yourself.

“Aemond,,” “my sweet give me what i desire, cum.” His thumb against your clit quickens and you shake as you drip all over his fingers. They stay inside you for a moment, allowing you to settle in your release before he speaks to vhagar to have you land before he removes his fingers and you watch mesmerized as he takes each one in his hands, licking even at his palm to remove some that had dripped down. “Does it truly taste that good?” He hums with his eye closed as he pops the last finger from his mouth. “absolutely divine.”

You had not even notice you had been flying back to where you had taken off. He must have been steering with his free hand. He basically has to carry you off of vhagar as you legs do not seem to be working. You say nothing to one another until you are off the ground and you eye his hardness. “Do you not need any help with that?” That annoying smirk graces his face and he shakes his head. “I would not want a pretty little innocent girl like you to partake in such terrible terrible sins.” You roll your eyes at his words despite your shaky legs begin to walk away from him which he quickly catches up with you. The rest of your walk is in silence and he walks you back to your room and wishes you a good day until dinner before he leaves and you walk into your room before leaning against your door and letting out a shaky breath.

what were you going to do?

You quickly request a bath before stating that you will take a nap before dinner and sleep finds you quickly. Your dreams are filled of you and aemond, similar to how you had been this afternoon and you lose yourself in them. You had apparently been so lost when you open your eyes it is well past dinner and the sky is as dark as can be. You turn to the other side and hope that when you try to fall back asleep you can but a piece of paper on your bedside table as you sitting up.

meet me in the library.

No name attached to it and you think it could possible be aemond. but what could he want from you at an hour like this? certainly nothing good. You throw on a cloak and walk yourself to the library, with every step you take you grow more and more nervous. Yet when you enter the library and walk around the empty walls of books you let out a sigh of relief at the man you see. “kepa.” he turns to you, his face illuminated by the candle in front of him and he crosses his arms as he turns to face you a look you cannot read present on his face.

“What is that look for?” “You like him.” You flinch like he had yelled at you and you fiddle around with your cloak. “I do not.” Your father takes a few steps towards you and stares you down. his tone angrier but his words are still hushed “I have begged you to be careful.” You shrug and grow annoyed at his accusations, “I have father.” “You say you have yet i am staring at the face of a girl who is walking herself directly into a hightower trap.”

You let out a frustrated noise and throw your hands up as you take a couple steps back. You do not know why you are so annoyed by his words. Maybe it is because you feel he is undermining you and does not trust you. Or maybe its because you feel called out by him. You do not know what you feel or what you think about him anymore. Maybe you really are walking into some elaborate trick. Or maybe youre not. You have no clue anymore.

You snap. And you yell at him depsite the fact you do not mean to.

“I am doing exactly what i must do for our family. I do not like him i am not falling into some trick everything i am doing is for us! so screw him and if i have to pretend i love him for the rest of my life then i will because i am doing it for us!”

The two of you are silent as you stare each other down. You do not know what came over you but you merely wish to leave this conversation and for him to leave you alone. The sound of footsteps has you freezing in place. You turn your head and see him. He does not look at you, either of you in fact. Simply placing a book back on the shelf and grabbing another. “Aemond wait i-” He does not turn to you as you speak. You watch as he merely begins to walk away. You almost run after him, but you feel so stuck in your place. He heard that. He had to have. You cant even be bothered to care that everything you have worked so hard for might have just been crumbled when the only thing you can think about is how he must feel.

He laid his heart before you and you have done nothing but squash it like a bug. Maybe it was a trick maybe it wasn’t but you can’t help but fear it was. Maybe you should hope it wasnt for you cant imagine how hurt he would feel should he has been genuine. You should hope he is exactly how your father pictures him to be. The aemond you know of the future. The evil man who murdered your brother and calls your bastards at every breath. Though deep down you know he is not.

You cannot breath. The air escaping you as you stumble your way to the table and stare at the wood as your head spins. You sit down in one of the chairs as you look at your father with worried eyes. He runs his hand along his jaw and he shakes his head. He does not know what to do. And neither do you.

Your wedding festivities start tomorrow if there even is still to be a wedding at all now. He has the proof he needs to go to his mother and she would swiftly put a stop to this as she has been dying to do. Would you be kicked out of the keep? would all your efforts be in vain? Would he hate you? if he didnt before he must now. He must despise you. For tricking him and rightfully so. You are a monster. But a monster who had been in the right. Everything you are doing is for your family. But your heart aches for him as you press your head against the cold wood of the table.

“We are royally fucked.”

You cannot disagree with him.

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Markings

More of a thought than an imagine, but still.

This is the winner of my draft pole on the 20 feb. 2025. Good on y'all!

Masterlist

Dragon!Hybrid masterlist

As a reminder : I am a French speaker writing in English, any mistakes can be corrected, so long as it's not said with insultes. I also do NOT agree with my work being distributed, paid for or published on any other plateform than Tumblr. Thank you.

Men

Aegon: 

This bitch does not know how to be a dragonkin. His father never told him, his aunt doesn't like him and his siblings either. He actually thinks he has to fucking bite you, fight me on this. 

To be perfectly honest, you are not Aegon’s mate… officialy. He was forcibly mated to his sister, But dragons are resilient creatures, and the very first Aegon had two mates. Aegon will, however, bite you as soon as you’ve agreed to stay by his side. That’s what the book said to do with your mate. That’s what Aegon did with Helaena, so that’s what he did to you too. 

To say it was painfull is an understatement. You are not a dragonkin, therefore, you do not have the same protection against their bite as they do. So, when he bit you in a night of passion, not only did you cry like a baby, but you also caught a fever that dragged until the bite finally started healing (which took two good days), and various medical solutions since you refused the milk of the poppy. 

And since you are his best kept secret (somehow), your marking is not someplace everybody can see, much to his chagrin. It would be on one of your inner thighs. A place where only you, Aegon and a maester sworn to secrecy would be aware of it. You have his permission to leave hickies on him anytime you want, everywhere you want, too. 

"I'm so sorry, my love." Aegon whispered into your hair, one hand holding yours with a strength ht you didn't recognize him. He was watching over you like you could disappear at any moment, which, felt like was possible. You'd never felt this unwell in your life before.

A warmth had taken over you the second he'd decide to bite into your thighs the night prior, without consulting you on the matter, the passion you'd felt up until then was taken over by a burning, painful fire inside your veins.

You'd pushed him away with a cry, nearly falling from the bed, blood making it's way down your leg like lava flowing the earth.

"What have you done?" You had asked Aegon, who could only look at you with huge, panicked eyes, mumbling excuses before he left the room, leaving you in the dark to fight the start of what the master had called a fire fever.

Aemond:

I think Aemond is very traditional. Your marking would have been put on you during your wedding, with mesures taken so that your time healing would not be too harsh. It’s on the juncture of your neck and collarbone. 

Aemond did this when he was still fighting against himself, persuaded that people would try to hurt you to hurt him, and did not want to appear weak, etc. He wishes he would’ve waited before he’d mark you, so that the placement would have been more personal to the both of you. But what is done is done, and he can’t change it. 

Instead, he makes you wear the most beautiful piece of clothing in his colour he can find and have created especially for you. You also have a circlet design uniquely for you that he offered you once he got the broom out of his butt and started to truly court you. 

"Are you sure your father won't object to this?"

Your voice came from behind the room-divider as you were changing into Aemond's most recent impulse buy in your attention.

"Issa Qelos, my father is in no state to disagree, and my grandfather had given me his accord." Said the prince with his calm, soothing voice, a chuckle echoing through the room as he spoke.

You laughed. "I still think it's unnecessary, I already had an outfit for tonight's banquet."

Aemond hummed in response. You stepped away from the room diviser, changed into the magnificent golden and green outfit he had ordered to be made for you. Embroideries of your family's sigil decorating your sleeves in golden threads, and the one-eyed prince smirked, nodding approvingly as he walked closer to you.

"You'd already worn that outfit, and this one fits you better." He said, adjusting the neckline.

Daemon: 

Markings are so old-fashioned, and it’s not safe for you, and truly, it’s not something he wishes to put you through. Daemon abbors seeing you sick. Instead, he will have a blacksmith that specialize in fine metals (ie. valeryan steel) to have the form of his hand made as a necklace, embedded with a multitude of very small rubies and diamonds to decorate. 

It’s one of those necklaces you have to adjust once to close behind your neck, or to remove, but otherwise are immovable. Yes, Daemon thinks it’s hilarious that he’s given you his own hand as marking, but he would be very insulted if you chose not to wear it, ever. 

He offered it to you once he made his mind about you, wanting something that would prove his loyalty and love to you, but without altering your health. Now, has he told you what it really signified… probably not immediately. 

Daemon was lounging on a resting chair in his chambers when you entered the place. A loose linen shirt and some riding pants covering (if a term was to be used) your body. He let his eyes glide over your forms appreciatively. From your legs, well defined by the cut of your pants, to your forearms, as you'd rolled-up your sleeves, and your naked neck.

Daemon smile faded as his brain registered the colour of your skin, free of all jewelry. He frowned.

"Spent a good morning?" HIs questioning was dry, which you found weird, as he'd been happy to see you off in the morning, and had had no other plans other than sleep for this day. You turned to face him, eyebrows raised, eyes searching his face for a clue.

"Yes, very good. The farms have a good sheep stock for this winter." You told him still, choosing to change directly in front of him rather than moving all the way across the room.

"And you always ride without the necklace I've gifted you, for everyone to take?" He glowered, raising from his seat.

"I never wear jewelry when I ride, my lord. You know this."

Daemon huffed, his hand taking the necklace he'd gifted you not two months ago from the table in the middle of the room before walking closer to you. "This one, you will."

You rolled your eyes at his one, but opted not to contradict him for now. He busied himself with placing the reproduction of his hand around your neck.

Jacaerys: 

It was probably an accident. He didn’t mean to hurt you!! It’s not like he can fully control himself when you feel so good and when you make him feel this good also, how was he supposed to know his fingers had grown talons? He never wanted to hear the cry of sheer pain that pierced the sanctimonium of your rooms that night. He’s lucky they didn’t pierce through you completely, he could’ve killed you. 

The Maester and his mother were rushed to your chambers, one to heal you, the other to keep Jace from literally jumping from the window to bring you justice. He felt so bad, he cried uncontrollably with you in his mother’s arms. It took hours to calm him down, and they could not make him leave the room or his hysteria worsened. 

Now, you are marked with five strikes going from your shoulders to your sides, at about the middle of your ribs, and Jace always makes sure to kiss the marks apologetically when he sees them. You even joke about it now, but he never laughs at those. 

Jace will have a jewel made for you, so as to not mark you further, but also to claim you to those who wouldn’t know that you are his. A ring, or a circlet, or both, and it would take years to make, because it has to be perfect for you. 

"I didn't mean to, mother." He mumbled, wetting his mother's shoulder with his tears. Jace had resolved to hugging his mother close, even still in his simplest apparel, unable to do anything but sob in concert with you.

"I know, my love." Rhaenyra whispered into his ear, eyes locked with your form as the maester treated your wounds. You'd been lucky, he'd said. Rhaenyra didn't know if this would alleviate the tourment her son would be living with from now on.

You whimpered again, and Jace leaped from his mother's arms, face drowned by tears to kneel at your side, his hands caressing your face to keep the hair from falling before your eyes.

"I'm sorry Jewel, so sorry." He repeated like a mantra, and Rhaenyra could do nothing but to massage her son's shoulder while waiting for the maester to finish cleaning and dressing the wounds on your back.

Laenor: 

You wear his colours. You have the form of his teeth tattooed on your skin. You wear the jewels he had made for you. Litteraly all of your being screams : Laenor’s mate. People would be blind to not see it. 

Laenor is mostly drama-free. I would even see Rhaenyra offering you a little something so as not to make you feel left out. 

Yes, he had a tattoo artist come from Pentos to mark his teeth on you, only the best, of course. And he has the shape of your hand tattooed on one of his forearms, symbolically to say that he is yours too. 

"This is so strange."

Your eyes were glued to the new decoration adorning your very skin, the small burn of a healing wound pulsating through it every time clothes would brush against the design, but you didn't truly care.

"In a good way, I hope." Laenor teased, resting his chin on top of your head as you glanced up at his face in the mirror.

You smiled. "Of course."

Women: 

Baela:

The only mark you need is her colours. Everyone knows of her mate, everyone is too scared to do anything about it, too.

In all seriousness, you have handprints burnt on your hips. Fire magic is rare, especially whilst in human form, and it comes in uncrontrolable waves, generally with strong emotions. You don’t remember why you were fighting, nor when, exactly. All you remember is the feeling of nothingness in your belly as you lost your footing, her hands grabbing your hips to hold you back to her, and the burning. 

Her hands, you learned once you woke up, had passed through your clothes and the first epiderm of your skin, burning you to at least the second degree in a matter of seconds. Your family had requested you’d be sent back to them afterward, to heal, they’d said. 

It took months and months for you to convince your parents to send you back to Baela. And she was not faring well. Since then, no one is allowed to talk about it, your help is not allowed to look at the burns and she will do everything in her power to have you renown has her mate for any other reasons than you first started. 

You'd been travelling, with Baela. For the first time since your wedding you were back to your family's estate.

Your chambers were buzzing with servants eager to help you change and dressed for dinner, already helping you out of the first layers of your clothes before Baela intervened sharply. "That's enough, we'll manage just right, thank you. You can leave." Her tone left no place for interjections, and you lowered your gaze to the ground as the servants quietly exited the room. Not wanting to find the jugement in their eyes.

Baela sighed, before walking up to you and continuing our undressing.

"have I told you how ravishing you looked today?" She asked in a more calm, quiet voice. She'd lowered her posture to look into your eyes, a small smile curving her lips.

"Only twice." You teased, you own hands coming to undo her dress too. Baela hummed.

"Not enough, then. You look marvellous." The rest of your clothing fell to the ground. Your burned hips now visible to whomever could be spying.

"Aren't you charming." Your laughter was sure to be heard outside of the room, but you didn't care. Baela's hand took their place on your hips, covering the burns of her fingers perfectly.

"That's what I aim to be, my lovely rider." She said, rising your lips tenderly.

Helaena:

You have a little bug charm that you keep on you at all times. Being part of the Princess (then Queen) retinue as either a guard or a lady, it’s not strange, nor questionnable for you to have memorabilia of her on you. 

She was marked by Aegon at a young age, and her mark burned a scar on her neck that spreadto the back of her scalp, which is why she keeps her hair down most of the time. She doesn't want you to have something similar etched on your skin. 

She also wears the ribbons you’ve given her as a present on her at all times, either in her hair, on her clothing or as an accessory. 

"I have a present for you."

Helaena's airy voice caught your attention from the small baby you'd been rocking to help soothe. You turned your face in her direction, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Me, my lady? I'm honoured."

She smiled at you, cocking her head to the side, before looking back at one of her servants who held something within her hands. The servant walked closer to you and revealed a small box.

"You've shone loyalty to me for quite some time now, I thought fitting to offer you my gratitude." Explained Helaena softly as the servant opened the box, revealing a golden beetle with amethysts for wings to you. Your eyes widened.

"My lady, I- everything I've done was with your happiness in mind. I don't deserve such expensive gift..." Helaena could've been insulted at your refusal of her gift, but she smiled wider instead.

"Nonsense. It's only right for me to show my appreciation of your friendship." The servant bowed slightly, and placed the opened box next to you, before walking back.

You nodded, a small smile on your lips as you spoke. "Very well, thank you, my lady."

Rhaena: 

Did not mark you, will not mark you, and considers her wedding band and colours of her house to be enough of a marking. She sometimes leaves the odd hickies on your skins when she feels particularly angsty, but never in places people can see. 

This is not a matter for other people, after all, it’s something only the two of you share. 

Rhaenyra:

Much like Daemon, she’s offering you many accessories to mark you as hers. But for many different reasons : 

Either 

You were with Laenor and he’s now dead: She gives you a necklace that reminds one of the waves of the sea on the shore, aquamarines and sapphires ornating the golden piece beautifully, it’s a statement that promises you protection, love and comprehension. You might have been her late husband’s mate, but you can still be her lover. 

She takes you as a lover but doesn’t share you with Laenor or Daemon: You have a brooch of the three-headed dragon that is her house sigil, in a black metal that you did not recongnised, or care to ask more about. You are hers, only hers. and her gifts show that to everyone else's who look at you. 

She takes you as a lover and shares you with Daemon: To go with Daemon’s necklace, she’ll offert you a circlet that mimics her own, upping you to a status ofnear royalty as she does so, because she’s the true queen, and whilst she has her king, you are as much at the same level as they both are. Anyone who tries to undermine that will pay the price.

Taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

Current anon: 👑😵‍💫🥰🧑‍🍼😣

[muddyorbsblr]

ill-intentioned "compliments"

Drabbles Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: Loki steps in when a man subjects you to his tasteless opinion on your outfit

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 955 (issa blurb)

Warnings: creepy men being creepy; the tiniest dose of violence (let me know if I missed anything!)

Things to be aware of: a bit of mutual pining

"I haven't the slightest idea why we have even been tasked with this," Loki muttered, walking alongside you holding a paper with a list of errands for the two of you to run this weekend. Every other week, two names from the team were picked from a hat, and this week, your names popped up.

"Well Pepper said something about it helping the team seem more approachable, 'human', if the public sees us doing 'normal people' things. So getting groceries, getting the cars cleaned and gassed up, picking up pizza…little things."

He grumbled even worse; if he wasn't such a stickler for his princely stature, he'd probably be slouching and dragging his feet right about now. "I suppose it could be worse," he said softly. "I could have been partnered with less tolerable company."

"Why Mischief, are you saying you like having me around?" you quipped, playfully batting your eyes at the god. "High praise coming from you."

"Do not make me regret saying that, little mortal." He rolled his eyes at you, failing to hold back the twitching of the corner of his mouth and hide the amusement. As he often did when he was around you.

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I like having you around, too."

Your words took him aback. "Truly?"

"Of course." You pointed at the next item on your list, before motioning toward the top shelf. "You're the most tolerable tall person I could've been partnered with. Last time I got partnered with your brother I had to push around two carts on my own."

You had to look away while he reached up for the carton of pickle jars, resisting against every urge to ogle at the way his midnight black jeans stretched over his inhumanly perfectly shaped ass. "Well for what it's worth, darling, I would never let you do any of this on your own--"

"We-he-heeeelll, Agent Y/L/N," a voice drawled out, coming from a man who was no less than two decades your senior, eyes filled with such prurient thoughts that he didn't even bother to hide as he leered at you. The way he said your name, along with the way he looked at you, felt like you were being blanketed in slime.

Made you want nothing more than to kick his ass. Or even rack up a debt to the god you were partnered with and ask for his help.

"Don't you look mighty fine today, in that cute little skirt…" The unwelcome lecherous admirer was reaching his hand out toward you, letting out a yowl of pain when Loki stormed over, grabbed the man's wrist in his significantly larger hand, and squeezed.

"I think not," he said through gritted teeth. "You're undeserving to be sharing the same breath as her and you believe yourself entitled to a touch?"

"What? I was just paying her a compliment!" the man whined. "It's a free country, you fucking alien. What? I can't tell a woman she's pretty anymore? Is that what--"

"You know damn well you were doing more than that. You were putting her in a situation to give a clear message, that despite her stature and place in society, because you have deemed it so, she is still subject to your lecherous thoughts. You were going to touch her without her consent because you wished for her to know that you can, and whatever happens in the aftermath will not nullify how she was already subjected to being groped by your grimy unworthy hands." The god squeezed a touch tighter, a near sadistic smile stretched across his face when he began to hear bones creaking and threatening to crack.

"Fucking psycho you're breaking my hand!"

"Oh I haven't even begun to get psychotic," Loki spat out, squeezing just a touch harder and hearing the first fracture finally give in. He begun to speak lower, and you were too far away to decipher what he said next. "You know not the lengths I would go for her, you impotent, tiny, inconsequential insectile excuse for a man. Anyone who sullies her mood will have me to answer to, am I being clear?"

Another squeeze. More fractures. And the once supercilious man was reduced to a whimpering mess, pleading for mercy. "P-Please I'm sorry, just let me go I won't do it again."

"See to it that you don't." The god's eyes glowed a vibrant green for a moment, casting an enchantment that would replicate the sensation of his hand fracturing whenever he would so much as feel the urge to touch another unfortunate unwitting woman moving forward. When he was certain that the spell had taken, he released the lech's hand with a derisive sneer, not even bothering to watch him scamper away, choosing instead to turn and cross the few steps back to you.

"You know I could've kicked his ass no problem."

"I have no doubts, little mortal, but that would also mean you would have given him the satisfaction of touching him." He broke out into a smile when you scrunched up your face at his response, fighting against the urge to reach for your hand. Or tuck that stray lock of hair behind your ear.

Or kiss you.

"Thank you," you said softly as you both started walking toward the register. "The guys back at the Compound got it so wrong about you. You're not so bad." Loki's heart stumbled at your words, only to start pounding in his chest as you continued. "I'm starting to wonder if you're bad at all."

For the first time in ages, the god found himself unable to form words, a warmth blooming in both his gut and his chest. "Anytime, darling."

A/N: Made this for @glitchquake because we should be allowed to wear cute workout clothes without worry about creepy fckers that 100% deserve stabbies when they try to bust out their creep factor 😤

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[luminnara]

Unheavenly Creatures III | Feyd-Rautha x reader (NSFW)

Part One | Part Two |

MASTERLIST

Requests are open!

Tags: @austinswhitewolf @aeilani @maneater17 @serrendiipty @belovedbastardremus @the-dark-dreamer25 @cauliflowercounty @mamawiggers1980 @catsinacottage @targaryen-madness @juliskopf

Warnings: group sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mentions of cannibalism

Feyd-Rautha’s holy birthday lasted a full week. All of Giedi Prime celebrated their na-Baron, and for the nobility, that meant several long days of feasting, gladiatorial spectacles, and pro-House Harkonnen propaganda.

Within the walls of the palace, yet another banquet was being prepared, all of the extra chairs already placed at the long table in the dining hall. All of the important guests would be present for this last great feast before they began their journeys home in the coming days, and, upon Feyd-Rautha's request--demand, really--you and your fellow concubines were to be in attendance.

"Do we often receive these dinner summons?" you asked, facing yourself in a mirror as a servant ran a razor over your scalp. Though you had received two rounds of Harkonnen beauty treatments intended to halt hair growth entirely, you had woken up that morning with a soft layer of peach fuzz atop your head. After a fair amount of taunting from Feyd-Rautha, whose ego seemed to be running particularly rampant after so many days of celebration, an attendant from the Baron’s spa had come to take care of the problem, rubbing you in more Harkonnen chemicals while the others prepared themselves for the day.

“On occasion,” Yarina hissed, smoothing a beauty cream over her brow.

“I prefer feasting here, with Feyd,” Issa said, sounding annoyed. “There are always many eyes on us in the dining hall.”

“I enjoy watching the other Houses,” Yarina said. “Sometimes there is even a Bene Gesserit.”

You hummed in thought as the spa attendant finished with you, bowed, and backed out of the room as quickly and quietly as possible. She likely feared you; after all, Feyd’s concubines had been known to bite, especially when hungry. Only the day before you had watched as Yarina snapped her sharp teeth at the Baron’s mentat when he walked too close, and you had heard stories of Feyd-Rautha returning to his chambers to find that she and Issa had slaughtered a servant. Once, supposedly, they had even killed a would-be assassin they had sniffed out, though the remains were far too mutilated for anyone to determine the offender’s House or origins.

“Do you recall how I spoke of my former House allying with House Harkonnen?” You asked, turning to look at the others in their seats.

They both perked up at the question.

“They will be in attendance?” Yarina asked with a grin.

“I assume so,” you said. “Perhaps we will see them today.”

Issa twisted in her seat to better face you, the motion fluid and languid. “Perhaps Feyd will serve them to us on a platter.”

The two bared their teeth at each other in delight, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever grow to become so ravenous. When they weren’t concerned with Feyd-Rautha, their cravings always turned to food, and they sometimes acted as though they were starving. You knew that couldn’t be the case; they ate at least two full meals a day, oftentimes three, with snacks sprinkled in throughout. This week, thanks to all of the feasting, they were surely not actually hungry…but they spoke of it more frequently than ever, eyeing the fresh corpses the ba-Baron left in his wake and hissing whenever he told them no.

“I think it is likely we will be asked to sit and eat quietly,” you said, testing the waters with your statement. “Don’t you? There will be so many important guests.”

“Not important to me,” Issa turned back around as she continued her beauty rituals, seeming uninterested now.

You sat and watched the two of them and wondered what they may have been like before falling into Feyd-Rautha’s service. Had they been the daughters of Harkonnen nobility, living in the palace and watching the na-Baron in the arena every other week? Perhaps they had known him in their youth, or at least Yarina had. You recalled that she had been with him the longest, though you did not know by what margin she surpassed Issa. Had they been Harkonnen celebrities? Models, perhaps? Feyd preferred to remain in the palace, and so you had never spent much time venturing forth into the capital city. Perhaps their images had been all over Giedi Prime, advertising synthetic food products. Perhaps they had both been the daughters of families with spice fortunes, or perhaps they, like you, had once been in the employ of noblewomen, and had found their way into Feyd-Rautha’s lap.

Or, you thought with a shudder, perhaps they had come from the Bene Tleilax, and they were simply some of their tamer genetically modified products. You had glimpsed the creatures kept as pets by the Baron, strange, mutated things that scurried about on too many spider-legs yet understood human speech. If Vladimir could purchase such things, then perhaps Feyd had purchased modified Harkonnen women for his own collection…though, you knew Giedi Prime itself hosted scientists and beauticians capable of making the changes Yarina and Issa sported, because they had made them to you.

You found yourself favoring the model theory, though it left room for improvement. Feyd’s darlings had a lust for human flesh that you had yet to see in any other Harkonnen. Even Feyd-Rautha didn’t partake in the same way. He ingested blood, most often yours, and you had seen him eat the prepared organ here or there, but they all acted as if you needed to consume them. You wondered if there would be lungs at this final feast.

You enjoyed lung.

As the others finished in front of the mirror, you stood, moving to the rack of clothing reserved for you. You did not know who created the dresses you wore, only that they were likely highly respected and revered. You regularly received new ensembles, and they were always simple—black, industrial, synthetic garments that matched the others’. Shortly after Feyd -Rautha took you in, you had been measured by a tailor’s assistant, a box of clothing arriving in your chambers the following morning. You often dressed yourself, but for special occasions, servants cleaned and laid your dresses out for you, and you had become rather pampered after a week of this.

Now, you stood facing a black dress, its shiny material soft and rubbery to the touch. A fair portion of the bodice was a thin, flesh-toned mesh, making it appear that the black, synthetic material of the dress only covered two thin lines stretching from your waist and up over your breasts. The skirt was long and opaque, and simple black slippers sat on the floor beneath where it hung.

You reached for it and slipped it over your head, enjoying the feeling of the stretchy fabric on your bare skin. It was smooth and without any blemishes, just the way House Harkonnen liked their things to be. Looking at your reflection now, you felt streamlined, welcoming the way the dress hugged you, the garment clinging as if it had been painted on.

Issa and Yarina had been gifted matching gowns, and when they had both finished their beauty rituals, a servant helped them dress. You should have requested—demanded—the assistance as well, you realized, but old habits died hard, and there were some things you didn’t think would ever come second nature. You were still too used to being the one summoned to help with the stately garments of your former mistress, and you continuously had to remind yourself now that you were one of the highest-ranking women on all of Giedi Prime.

“How do I look?” Yarina asked, though it was a rhetorical question.

“Divine,” Issa hissed with a grin, showing her teeth in a way that was anything but heavenly.

Yarina returned it, then looked to you. You agreed with Issa, lips stretching into a too-wide smile, before the three of you devolved into a fit of unholy giggling, the servants wincing as your shrieking laughter pierced their eardrums.

“I do so enjoy these events,” Yarina sighed, making her way towards the doorway.

“Why is that?” You asked, following.

You walked out into the main room in which Feyd’s bed sat, passing it as you trailed behind her, Issa behind you. You all three retired to the lounge area, sitting on the smooth black couches as a servant poured three glasses of a dark, viscous drink.

“The guests are fascinating,” Yarina said as she waved a hand, dismissing all of the servants. “Issa doesn’t think so. But I do.”

They quickly fled the room, shoulders hunched as they stared down at their feet. You had seen more and more of them all week, a result of the na-Baron’s birthday festivities. They were being worked round the clock, you surmised, and they were probably able to thanks to the chemical stimulants the Harkonnens so loved.

“Before I came here, i attended many dinners that my mistress hosted for the other Great Houses,” you said. “Or, I suppose, I helped her prepare for them, and was occasionally allowed to sit in. I was never so important there as I am here.”

“You’re very important,” Issa hissed, the sound coming out gentler than normal. “To us.”

“And all of Giedi Prime,” Yarina ran the back of her knuckles over your arm.

“And Feyd,” Issa added.

“What about Feyd?” A rough voice asked as the door slid open.

Your heart jumped in elation as Feyd-Rautha strode into the room. He stopped in front of the sitting area, looking over the three of you with dark eyes. He did this often; you knew he would spend hours watching you if he could, and he sometimes did, memorizing every curve, taking note of what he liked best and what he wished to change. Some of it had surprised you, and in some ways, he was far less demanding than men on other planets, including the one you had come from. In other areas, though, he was very specific, and you sometimes wondered why. He had his tastes, you supposed, and he had the means to indulge, unlike many others. You were his precious toy, a doll to be played with and modified as he pleased.

“We’ve missed you,” Issa purred, standing.

You followed suit. You would have crawled to him if you had to, but it was never a race, nor was it a struggle. You moved at the same pace as the others, and when you reached him, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, just as he did theirs, though his hand found its way to your waist as he draped himself over you in what could have been considered an embrace.

“I’ve missed you as well, m’darlings,” he murmured as he kissed you once more before letting go and moving on to Yarina.

“Do you like our dresses?” You asked.

As he leaned back, you felt his eyes rake over you. Then, he smirked, and you found yourself wishing to feel his lips upon you once more.

“Beautiful.”

And you knew he meant it, because he always did.

-0-

A servant fetched you when it was time, though Feyd seemed determined to make all four of you fashionably late, as he was too busy holding your hips down as you straddled his face to be bothered with leaving in a timely manner. Eventually, however, he had had his fill, and you were trying to ignore the slickness between your thighs as you followed him out of the suite.

The corridors were abuzz with activity, Harkonnen aristocrats and visitors alike pausing to watch as you passed. You heard whispers and saw hands shielding mouths as if that would keep their words from reaching your ears, and even if it could, you already knew what they were saying. They’d been exchanging the same shocked, starstruck expressions the entire week, their eyes glued to you as if trying to memorize every pore, every flex, every muscle. You had mostly grown used to the scrutiny of the public eye on Giedi Prime, and your skin no longer crawled when the hungry gazes of the aristocracy raked over it. your newfound celebrity fit like a glove, it seemed.

The dining hall was nearly full when you finally reached it, most of the long table’s place setting s occupied. It was rare that you ate within these walls, Feyd often preferring to take his meals in his chambers rather than with his uncle; he had never given any explicit explanation as to why, but you had always imagined he preferred the peace and time away from the Baron.

The banquet hall’s longest table, reserved for these special feasts and meetings, played host to a variety of foods, some of which you did not recognize even after all of your time living amongst House Harkonnen. You did spy, however, a platter of kidneys near another of livers, two organs you had grown increasingly familiar with as of late. They both sat before three empty chairs positioned near one end of the long, metal table, and you recognized them to be places set for yourself and your companions.

“Your na-Baron, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” a voice announced as you followed Feyd further into the room.

The dinner guests all stood quickly while the slaves lining the walls stared at the floor. The air was tense, as it so often was within the Baron’s walls, though Baron Harkonnen himself appeared to be rather at ease; he did not deign to rise for his nephew, choosing instead to slouch in his chair and spread his arms wide in a celebratory gesture.

“Finally, you join us, nephew,” came his voice like wet stones grinding over each other.

Though you could not see Feyd-Rautha’s expression from your position behind him, you imagined the glower you knew to be there. He had been cross with his uncle all week, ever since the incident with the not-drugged Atreides slave in the arena. You could not blame him for his disdain—Vladimir Harkonnen’s gaze still made your skin crawl whenever you felt those beady eyes upon you.

Without a word, Feyd walked to the chair nearest the door, directly across the long table from the Baron, who sat at its head. You followed in line, making for the third and furthest open seat from his with the expectation that Issa and Yarina would occupy the two closer to the na-Baron, indicating their seniority. You were surprised when they both fluidly sidestepped past you, positioning you at Feyd’s right hand while they took the two further seats, conspiracy shimmering in their huge black eyes. There was no time to question them, however; the moment Feyd-Rautha reached forward and drank from his wine cup, the spell of silence was broken and the feasting began.

The Baron spoke to his nearby mentat about something too boring for you to care to attempt to listen in on, and soon, the guests began conversing amongst themselves, the huge banquet hall filled with the low, echoing murmur of their voices. As you looked around at them, you recognized the fashions of a few Great Houses and wondered if you had once played host to these very same people on your home planet. You recognized thinly-veiled mannerisms of unnerved yet fascinated tourists, some of them trying their best to avoid insulting the greatly-feared Feyd-Rautha at his own birthday feast. Their eyes had a tendency to wander, even this early into dinner, and you watched as a few of them glanced over to him while conversing with their fellows only to quickly look away once more.

You noticed how they all seemed to be avoiding looking at you, their eyes seeming to skip past your corner of the table on their way to and from the na-Baron. In your peripheral vision, you could see that Issa and Yarina had yet to move, their silverware and metal drinking cups untouched as they, too, surveyed the room. You briefly thought of the story of how they had sniffed out the assassin, and you wondered if they were attempting to do the same now. If they were, it put a damper on your plan to speak to them; you certainly wouldn’t want to interrupt their work if there truly was someone nefarious afoot. Or at least, someone more nefarious than the average Harkonnen nobility.

As you looked down the table, you spied several intriguing figures—A veiled woman stood out, her food disappearing behind her covering. You recognized her to be Bene Gesserit, a witch whom you could never hope to understand, if she was anything like the ones you had encountered in your previous home. While you could not see her face, you imagined that she was watching the room much in the same way you were, though you were certain her thoughts were far more secretive and far more conniving than your benign observations.

Nearer to the Baron, you spied Feyd’s older brother, Glossu Rabban, the Count of Lankiveil, the rainy planet Feyd-Rautha had been born on. You had often wondered if Feyd remembered his true home…though it was incredibly difficult to imagine him residing anywhere else, when he so perfectly matched Giedi Prime’s harshness.

Glossu seemed happy to be seated near to his uncle. You could hear him laughing loudly, tearing into his food as he soaked up the attention his brother’s guests were obliged to pay him. The former governor of Arrakis still harbored a bruised ego after control of the spice-planet had been plucked out of House Harkonnen’s grasp, and you found it a bit difficult to believe that you were supposed to be afraid of him. Everyone called him Beast Rabban, and perhaps you had simply spent too much time around his younger brother to buy into the nickname.

As your eyes traveled back down the opposite side of the table, you recognized the textiles of your home planet and let your gaze linger. Had you really once worn clothing like that? So many layers of warm, knit fabric that would smother you beneath Giedi Prime’s sun? You had grown so used to the fashion of House Harkonnen and the stretchy, rubbery material you so often wore now that the thought of being weighed down by such heavy clothing made your chest feel tight. The dark blues and greens of your former home looked strange to you now, and as your eyes trailed upwards to the faces of the nobles who wore them, you found that you nearly didn’t recognize them.

There they sat, the Lord and Lady, the heads of your former House. She wore her hair long, and as you studied it, you remembered how it felt to brush every night and every morning, for she would never stoop so low as to maintain it herself. He bore a naive, jovial expression, that of a man who thought himself surrounded by nothing less than friends, a man who believed he could buy anything and anyone though his House was far from the richest or most powerful. To his credit, the people nearest to him enjoyed his company, laughing and smiling at his words. What he lacked in true power he made up for in charisma.

“Is that them?” Yarina hissed below the sound of conversation.

“Yes,” you replied, finally tearing your eyes away from your former masters to survey the food in your immediate vicinity.

“Hmph.” She scoffed.

“Unimpressed?” You asked.

“Highly.”

You heard a snort of amusement to your left and glanced in its direction. Feyd-Rautha was slumped back in his chair, cup in one hand while the other supported his chin as he leaned his elbow on the chair’s arm.

“Unimpressed, indeed.” He murmured, then leaned in and passed his goblet to you. “You may need this more than I, darlin’.”

Conversation around your end of the table lulled as the dinner guests paused to watch the na-Baron’s gesture. They had all been keeping one eye on him, you surmised, speaking with their peers whilst nervously watching for any change in his behavior. His movement drew their attention and soon their gazes were fixed upon you, intense, judgmental curiosity burning into you as you steeled yourself and accepted the wine.

“Thank you, Feyd.” You said in your best Issa imitation.

Feyd offered a smirk and reached for you, his hand lingering beneath your chin as his thumb brushed your cheek while you drank. The wine—if it could even be called as such—was thick, and you recognized it to be a mixture of blood and an as yet unknown liquid that made its appearance in Harkonnen cuisine regularly. It contained spice, you knew; you could taste it, a hot, somewhat savory tinge that sent a tingle down your spine.

“Of course.” He squeezed the back of your neck for a moment, something he often did absentmindedly, and took the goblet back.

Still aware of the guests’ gazes, you turned your attention to your food. Plucking a kidney off a platter, you chewed it slowly, eyes remaining on the table as you listened to the conversation pick back up.

“From where did you acquire your concubines, na-Baron?” Someone asked.

You glanced up at Feyd to see him watching a man across from you. He seemed to be deciding whether he wanted to play nice or demand an execution take place, his jaw set as his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. It was his holy birthday, though, and nearly the end of the celebrations, and you watched as he chose the more peaceful, talkative route.

“My darlings find their way to me on their own.” He said.

“How so, na-Baron?”

“He purchases them!” Baron Vladimir interrupted from the other end of the table, laughing loudly in a way that was not entirely free of mocking.

All heads swiveled to face him, yours included. Yarina hissed quietly, a noise of distaste. If she were any nearer to the Baron, you’d have been afraid that he would have heard and immediately demanded she be disposed of…but there, so close to Feyd, she was safe. And so were you. 

Feyd-Rautha glared at his uncle, who continued.

“My nephew is a man who knows what he wants,” Vladimir said. “Nothing will deter him—and nothing is too good for my heir. That is why when he interrupts trade negotiations to demand a new plaything be included in the deal, I oblige.”

Feyd’s expression was purely sour, his cheeks hollowing as his jaw clenched. When he spoke, you heard the restraint in his voice. “And I am ever thankful, Uncle.”

The Baron gave a nod, clearly pleased with himself, and as conversation began anew your eyes drifted to the rulers of your former planet. They seemed unable to choose how they should feel—you spied smugness in their expressions alongside confusion and mild alarm. Were they suddenly worried now? Concerned for the well-being of the handmaiden they had sold without so much as a second thought? You watched as they shared an uncertain look with each other before they forced smiles onto their faces once more.

You heard a quiet hmph to your right and realized that Issa and Yarina had also been watching them, their nearly identical faces parallel to your own. Would your previous keepers even be able to tell you apart from them? Had it been so long and had you changed so much that they’d be unable to choose you from a lineup?

“You may pursue them later,” Feyd rasped, cutting into a piece of meat. “Eat now, darlings.”

Issa hummed, the sound more akin to a purr, and you obliged as well, plucking a rare lung off of a platter and chewing it thoughtfully. The conversation around you blended into dull, white noise, and as always, your focus was more on Feyd-Rautha than anywhere else.

He conversed with his guests and you occasionally felt his leg or foot brush against yours beneath the table, a reminder that he was there. You ate in silence, sometimes sharing a glance with Issa and Yarina when something stood out in the sea of voices. You could tell they were more interested in the Bene Gesserit than anyone else in attendance, their black eyes fixated on the woman they could not even see behind the veil. Why they cared so much, you did not know…so you left them to it and tried to enjoy your first large banquet on Giedi Prime.

After a final course of black, bloody desserts, dinner concluded. Feyd-Rautha left the room first and you followed closely behind, hot on his heels as he strode out into the corridor. The Baron was next to leave, surrounded by his guard, and you hovered behind Feyd as his uncle said a final happy birthday before floating away in the direction of his private spa.

Feyd-Rautha glared after him, fists clenched at his sides. “I should kill him.”

The bold statement alarmed you, but the others remained calm.

“He will not taste good,” Issa hissed, leaning her chin on his shoulder as her hands spread over his chest from behind. “So much meat, gone to waste…”

Feyd still stared at his uncle’s shadow as it retreated around a corner. “He does not deserve to be eaten.”

“Why do you wish to kill him, Feyd?” You asked, stepping out to face him and gazing at him with big, black eyes.

The na-Baron’s head snapped around to look at you, and there he saw you for what you were; his newest, freshest, most naive concubine, whose home planet was half a galaxy away and who had nothing but him and his other darlings now. Though you had settled in well and called Giedi Prime your home now, he was reminded that you were not truly Harkonnen, and you might never be.

“Do you wish to speak with your former owners?” He asked, changing the subject.

You frowned at the attempted diversion, but took the bait nonetheless and considered his question. Did you wish to see them? In the time you had spent away, you had changed considerably, not only physically but mentally as well. Harkonnen customs were less and less strange by the day, and your memories of your old home felt odd and dreamlike now. What would you gain from revisiting the people from that life? Did you desire closure? Or were you beginning to lean towards speaking with them because a part of you was still angry about their abandonment of you, and you wanted them to see what had become of the handmaiden they left behind on Giedi Prime?

“I do, Feyd.”

“…then we will call on them tonight.” He decided, taking your hand and pressing a kiss that was smooth as a sharpened blade to the back of it.

“How exciting,” Issa hissed as the four of you made your way to the na-Baron’s royal chambers.

“We have never had such an opportunity,” Yarina said, eyes alight with mischief.

“Did you see their faces at the feast?” Issa laughed, taking your hand and twisting your fingers together with hers. “They did not know how to feel, knowing what happened to you.”

“I will not accept their pity,” you growled. “I do not need it, when my life is so much better now.”

“Pity?” Yarina asked, taking your other hand in hers. “Why should they pity you?”

You mulled your next words over, unsure of what to say. Not wanting to offend them nor Feyd-Rautha, you spoke carefully. “Because of how they must see me, through their eyes.”

The harpies seemed genuinely confused, looking at each other with tilted heads.

“They must see me as a slave,” you continued.

“Are there no concubines on their planet?” Issa asked. “Do they not know what it means to be one?”

“No, they…they are married and I do not remember any concubines there,” you said, now thoroughly confused by their confusion.

“…oh, pet,” Feyd-Rautha twisted his head back to look at you, pausing in his journey back to his rooms. “…you truly do not understand, do you?”

“What? What do I not understand?” You asked, looking between him and the others.

“Call yourself what you will,” he said, raising a hand to cup the side of your neck in a possessive way, “concubine. Pet. Darling. But you are mine, whatever you are. You bear no crown, but any heir you give me would be legitimate. You belong to a Great House with wealth and power far beyond that of your old masters’, and now, in the eyes of House Harkonnen and the Imperium, you are far more important than them.”

“I…am?” You asked.

“Of course,” Yarina laid a hand on your shoulder.

“It is nost pity they will feel towards you,” Issa said. “It is fear.”

-0-

Feyd-Rautha gave the Lord and Lady of your home planet precisely ten Giedi Prime minutes to prepare themselves before the four of you arrived at their guest room. You could imagine them scrambling, forever obsessed with their image and always wanting to impress the greater Houses. At this time of night, the Lady would have already been changing into her robes for sleeping, and once upon a time, you would have been the one dressing her for this seemingly impromptu visit. Tonight, you were assisted by your own servant, who dressed you in another smooth black dress that clung to you like a second skin.

As your arrival was announced by one of the guards at the door, it slid open to reveal plain living chambers. You recalled the rooms in the guest wing from your brief time staying in your own, when what had been intended as a brief visit to Giedi Prime became a permanent move. The walls were bare, the furniture sparse, and the suite’s inhabitants looked sorely out of place amongst the brushed steel and industrial trimmings.

They appeared flustered, dressed in heavy, opulent evening wear. It would be strange to host anyone so late in the day, and downright shocking to receive the na-Baron himself, someone who could—and should—have demanded they come to him and not the other way round. Yet there stood Feyd-Rautha with his entourage, hands folded neatly behind his back, knives sheathed at his sides. You stood behind his right shoulder, facing the people you once served, looking at them through different eyes. They seemed so strange to you now, so foreign; you could barely remember how it felt to braid hair like theirs, or handle the textiles they wore. You had grown used to the Harkonnen customs that surrounded you, and the ways of your own birth house had become entirely alien.

“Na-Baron, this is quite a surprise!” The Lord said nervously as he rose from his seat.

“The feast was positively divine,” the Lady added, standing as well.

“To what do we owe such an honor?”

Feyd-Rautha simply watched them for a long moment, looking on as they quickly grew uncomfortable beneath his scrutinizing gaze.

“We are not here to speak about the feast.” He finally said.

“O-oh?” The Lord stammered. “Please, how may we be of assistance, na-Baron?”

“You recall the pet I obtained from you.” Feyd said bluntly.

“The handmaiden?” The Lady asked, glancing away from him to look at his companions. “Yes, of course.”

“It was an honor to supply a servant to the esteemed na-Baron of House Harkonnen,” the Lord added. “Would you like more? We have several with us—“

“No.” Feyd-Rautha interrupted with a glare. “I have no need for more.”

You felt your heart swell with a smug pride.

“I came to show what’s been done with your former slave,” he said.

“Oh, no, na-Baron, we of our House do not keep slaves—“

“Shh,” the Lady hissed sharply, silencing her husband as Feyd-Rautha stepped aside to reveal his darlings in full.

You stood between the others, watching from your place in line as the Lord and Lady looked at each other uneasily. When their eyes turned to you, there almost seemed to be a spark of recognition there…but when they saw Issa and Yarina, it faded, and you realized they had no clue which one was you.

“Surely she is not here with us,” the Lord said, glancing to the na-Baron.

“Harkonnen beauty treatments,” Feyd said, grinning and revealing his black teeth. “And my own strict regimen.”

“And how have you been…enjoying her?” The Lady asked.

“Ask her yourself.”

Her eyes passed over you twice. “Is that you, my dear?”

Issa hissed.

The Lady looked even more uncomfortable, and it was then that you chose to take pity on her and stepped forward.

“I must admit, I am a bit disappointed,” you said, facing her evenly. “We used to spend so much time together, after all.”

“There you are!” She exclaimed, placing a hand over her chest in melodramatic relief. “Tell me, how do you fare? It has been so difficult finding a new handmaiden of your caliber. Good help can be so tricky, you understand.”

She looked to the na-Baron as if he could relate. He offered nothing but a slight grimace in return.

“When I was informed that I was to stay on Giedi Prime, I thought the world was ending.” You admitted. “Everything I had ever known was suddenly so far away, completely out of my grasp…and I was left in the care of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, a man whose reputation precedes him throughout the galaxy.”

“It was just business, you understand,” the Lord said.

“Business?” You asked, looking to him with your black, unblinking eyes.

“Well…yes,” he shifted uncomfortably.

“Darling, we would never have given you up for anything less than your worth,” the Lady said.

You wanted to recoil, but you held firm, your voice even when you spoke. “Only the na-Baron may call me that.”

“I beg your pardon?” She scoffed.

Issa and Yarina hissed quietly.

“Feyd-Rautha is the only one permitted to call me that.” You repeated.

“Call you what?”

“Darlin’…are you certain you do not want them dead?” Feyd interjected, one of his knives suddenly unsheathed.

The Lord and Lady both suddenly paled.

“Th-there’s no need for that!” The Lord stammered quickly. “My wife meant no harm, na-Baron—“

“Do not apologize to me.” Feyd-Rautha growled. “Apologize to her.”

The Lady looked as if she would rather drink the black sludge in the Harkonnen spa. “Na-Baron, she is a handmaiden—“

“I am a concubine,” you said sternly, mustering as much confidence as you could in that moment. “And you are a guest in my home.” You stepped forward to face her more evenly, staring at her. In the past, she had always seemed larger than life, and though you knew much more of her personal life than most on her planet, she has always been glamorous and untouchable. Now, you saw that she was simply a woman—much in the same way that your lovely Feyd was simply a man.

“Remind them to fear you,” you heard Yarina hiss quietly from behind you.

“I’m hungry…” Issa whined.

“Patience,” Feyd-Rautha muttered.

“I am the reason we are here now,” you said to the Lady. “It was my choice to come to this room and face you.”

“Why, then?” She asked, holding her chin high as she looked down her nose at you.

“So that you might see what became of the servant girl you left behind.”

“Am i to feel ashamed, then?” She asked. “We did what we felt was right.”

“You sold me.”

“Tell me, then, are you not happy here?”

“I am.” You admitted. “And I do not doubt you have lost no sleep over me. I suppose I chose to come here to see you again…to look you in the eye as an equal and ask myself why I ever thought you were my superior.”

Her face twisted then as she tried to hold herself back. Had you spoken to her in such a way while in her service, you no doubt would have received a lashing—but now, with Feyd-Rautha and two ravenous harpies mere steps away, she didn’t dare touch you.

“You were the final thing connecting me to my old life,” you said. “A part of me wanted to find out if I would miss it. If seeing you again would provoke some sort of longing inside me. But…I am very pleased to find that I feel nothing of the kind.”

“Then what is next, Lady Harkonnen?” She asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I will have your tongue served on a platter if you do not learn to hold it.” 

She blinked in shock.

“I once thought you to be some great and noble creature,” you wrinkled your nose. “But you are only a person. How silly i once was, to have ever feared you, when you should be the one who fears me.”

You turned your back on her then, returning to Feyd-Rautha. He stood with the others, testing his blade’s sharpness with his own fingertips out of boredom.

“Finished?” He asked.

“We are done here,” you replied.

“Do you feel better?”

“I do.”

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, smearing dark blood over your skin. “Let us leave.”

You felt your former mistress watching you as you fell in behind him and exited the room, and you could imagine her anger and confusion. You had no doubt given her too much to dwell on for the night, but your own heart felt a bit lighter now, and any doubts you may have had that Giedi Prime was truly your home had been thoroughly snuffed out.

“I wanted to taste them,” Issa hissed.

“Exotic food is so difficult to come by…” Yarina sighed, taking your arm in hers.

“Harder to kill leaders of the Great Houses,” Feyd glanced over his shoulder. “There are more questions asked.”

“Killing them would not have solved anything,” you said.

“It would have solved my hunger.” Issa said.

“We will find you fresh lungs,” Feyd grinned. “A snack, before bed.”

You saw her return the grin, her sharp, black teeth glistening in the low light of the corridor. When she looked to you excitedly, you found her joy to be infectious, and smiled back at her.

-0-

“Feyd?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Will you join me in the bath?”

He looked to where the others were sleeping in his bed, a tangle of limbs, both covered in bite marks the same as you. “You do not wish to sleep?”

“Not yet,” you said, standing before him.

He offered you as sympathetic a look as he was capable of and stood, placing a hand on the back of your neck as he steered you to his personal spa room.

The door slid open to reveal the steamy bath, always prepared and heated so that it may be used at any hour. There were no Harkonnen slaves lingering near the walls, leaving the two of you alone together for the first time that day. While Issa and Yarina slept peacefully, you slipped into the oily black pool, aided by Feyd, who joined you not long after.

He sat against the wall and pulled you into his lap, sighing and closing his eyes as he relaxed. “Something troubles you.”

You turned, resting your cheek on his chest as you gazed up at him. “I have been…curious about something you said this evening.”

He cracked an eye open to look at you. “Tell me.”

“Do you desire an heir?”

“I must secure my legacy,” he answered simply.

“Then why have you not yet?”

Both eyes were open now as you looked at you. “What do you mean, pet?”

“If you want an heir, why do you not have one?” You asked.

“They cannot conceive.”

His words were plain, and yet they struck you.

“Issa and Yarina?”

He nodded once. “Many of those on Giedi Prime are not fertile. They are no exception.”

“Oh…”

“Do not pity them. They have little interest in the entire ordeal.”

“Then how does House Harkonnen reproduce, if fertility is such a problem?”

“Treatments,” he shrugged slightly. “Many infants are too weak to live. We do not have large families. Only the strongest can survive on this planet.”

“Like you?”

“Yes.” He said smugly. “And my heirs.”

“So you do want them.”

“Will you give them to me?”

You pushed back against his chest to stare at him. “Me?”

“Yes.” He said as if it were obvious. “Who else?”

“A wife, perhaps?”

“I do not want one.”

“What if you must marry for politics?”

“Then she will be a lonely wife. You three are all I want.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled you back against his chest. “You will give me an heir. In time.

“Yes, Feyd,” you sighed, pleased with your new distinction amongst your companions. “I will.”

“You know I care for you.”

“Yes.”

“I would kill for you.”

“I have seen you do it.”

“Not only for fresh food,” he said. “For any reason. I would have killed your former owners. I wanted to.”

“I thought you said it was more complicated?” You teased.

“It is. But I would have done it.”

You smiled as you melted against him. “I know you would have, Feyd. And one day, perhaps I will kill for you.”

He smirked. “I have no doubt you will, darling. Now…relax with me.”

He leaned his head back once more and sighed, and you closed your eyes, content within the warmth of the oil and blood.

[gladiatorcunt]

summary: (dark lite) heir!jacaerys x afab servant!reader

cw: sweat/jace being a weirdo about it, dubcon, frottage, implied virginity loss, intentional use of minimal valyrian & i used a translator so don’t come for me, implications of jace intending to marry reader with or without their consent/reader thinking this is just sex but 💀, he didn’t say it but he would kill his family to make you queen, power imbalance (sorry y’all i just like it), wrote this at a vibrator’s pace (/j) so there are zero thoughts behind it

wc: 888 (✨🕯️)

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not translate, repost, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

“I am not certain about this, Jace…” You mumble, tugging at his sleeve so he’ll stop running towards his chambers. “I have to perform my duties in the kitchen, there is hardly time for this.”

Jacaerys Velaryon disarms you with a charming smile, too genuine and heartfelt to not return.

“No one will notice if I arrive at dinner a tad later than usual, there is no need to worry.”

The door is swiftly opened and shut in the blink of an eye. You find yourself gathered up in the prince’s arms and the swat to your bottom urges you to wrap your legs around his waist.

King’s Landing’s sweltering sun beats down on you from the window. Minuscule beads of sweat have already accumulated at your brow. Jacaerys hunches over you to lap them up as if he were a thirsty mutt, you can only wrinkle your nose in aversion.

“Perhaps we should allow ourselves time to get to know each other before we do this, my prince.” You attempt to convince him, upholding your mother’s belief that intimacy is to be between married folks only. It does not mean you shudder in repulsion at the thought of Jacaerys making love to you. Only that your shame will always best your lust in battle.

“Yet I feel as if I have already known you for a lifetime, issa rūklon (my flower).” He whispers, brushing a hand against the blossom he had tucked behind your ear. The pronunciation is not as confident as someone like his mother’s.

Innocent walks in the gardens with a prince were only a gateway to depravity, you suppose.

You breath hitches when his lips ghost along your collarbone. You would do well to remember that Jaceaery has the potential to be as much of a dragon as the rest of his strange kin.

Your trembling hands clutch at the prince’s bare shoulders. His clothes tossed aside with little care, all of his attention on you. To push him away or bring him closer… you are wracked with indecision.

“Shh, be calm. You are the safest you have ever been, in my arms and in my bed.” The constant repetition of possessiveness is heightened by the glint of gold in Jacaerys’s irises.

“Lift your hips for me, ābrazyrys (wife).” Your brow furrows at the unfamiliar pet name, but you pay it no mind.

Your flimsy dress glides down your body, the cheap strings tying it together are in tatters.

Jacaerys offers you no respite and instead brings both of your wrists together in one hand, pinning them to the bed over your head.

“I am still a maiden, my prince, I have never even kissed a man before.” You nervously say.

His adoring smile widens, “I know, it is the same reason I decline offers to visit the brothels. Our firsts were meant to be shared with each other.”

The soft glow of candlelight illuminates Jacaerys hovering over you, allowing the sexual tension to build. Your grip on his shoulders slackens and you weave your calloused fingers into his brown hair.

If only you knew how much it reminded Jacaerys of his mother’s wedding to Daemon, the looks they exchanged as they tied their souls together.

“We have all the time in the world.” He reassures you, despite the fact that it was obviously not true. “I’ll be gentle”.

You gasp as he cups your cheek with his free hand and gently drops his body weight onto you.

He seizes your lips in a bruising kiss that you would have previously thought him incapable of. The roughness of his tongue entangling with yours drives you to tighten your hold on his hair and pull it. Jacaerys moans at the infliction of pain and rubs his naked flesh against you. The friction of the slow movements are suddenly frustrating, you feel the oddest desire for him to move faster.

You whine in unison with him when you separate from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. He licks it away with a flick of his tongue as he eyes bore into yours.

“Does that feel good, ābrazyrys (wife)? Your cunt is becoming wetter by the second.” He laughs, not cruelly, and continues grinding against your body.

“Yes…. my prince…. it feels …. so, mmm- amazing.” You struggle to reply, he was not even inside you and yet here you were bearing a striking resemblance to an animal in heat.

The sweat that your bodies produce makes the rutting sloppy, you have to frequently regain your hold on Jacaerys. His cock glides over your cunt and you throw your head back on the pillows. Something wet and sticky is smearing all over your belly every time he ruts against you.

This goes on until your body tenses up, your eyes widen and it is as if your gut clenches. Foolishly, you tug at his hair again but he just mouths ‘Yes!’ with his eyes screwed shut tightly as he keeps grinding. Your cunt pulses and a mix of white and clear fluid erupts from it and drips down to greet Jacaerys’s balls. His pace stutters then he glances down at the sight.

“Gods…. you served me a great deal. It is surely delicious, but I do hope that you are ready for me to return the favor.”

[inotaku-talkz]

CAN U PRETTY PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP DO OART THREE OF GRUNGE AND EMO WITH TUKAMA AND CHOSO PLEASE!!

A/N: I have no plans on ending this :) also next chapter will be a insider look of Choso :))

Grunge and Emo! (Insider Look: Takuma’s part)

warnings: SMUTT, ANGSTTY also fluff :)

banner creds to @cafekitsune

taglist: @naammiii @emberneedstherapy @nanami-slutt @bitchkay @takumasimp @shineyhoneytears @issa-thot-process @littlemissfix-itfic

words: 1895 (DAMN!!)

Grunge and Emo! Masterlist linked here!

“Is everyone ready?” Nanami adjusted his rearview mirror.

“Choso is finishing a call, and then we’re ready,” Takuma said while closing the trunk. 

It was summer break, and Nanami and his husband, Haibara invited you and Choso to join their annual summer trip to Malaysia.

You immediately said yes, but Choso was hesitant at first. He didn’t want to leave his younger brother, Yuji, behind, but his stepfather, Jin, managed to convince him to go.

You headed inside to get Nanami’s husband. “Mr. Haibara. We’re ready to go no—“

Something made you stop in your tracks. It was a picture. A picture of a young boy, no older than 4, struggling to hold a baseball bat correctly. Behind him was a blonde man, with a small smile holding a ball.

You grabbed a hold of the picture. Running your fingers along the frame. You turn it around, noticing the note on the back.

‘Takuma’s first Little League game — 2001’

“I remember that day so clearly.” Haibara chuckles softly as you set the picture down.

“We had Takuma for a little over a year around then.” He strokes his chin while a soft smile forms on his face.

“I know that Takuma said he was with you guys since he was young but I never imagined as young as three years old…what happened…?” You look up at the older man.

“It’s a long story, and we don’t have much time to explain it all.” Haibara saw the disappointment on your face.

“I’ll explain on the plane, alright?” You smiled at the promise.

“Let’s see. We have a whole row of three in the middle and two seats towards the back.” Haibara checks the seating tickets.

“I think [your name] should sit with you, Dad, and Pops.” Takuma suggests, a slight flush on his face. Choso had a very subtle smirk on his face.

Yep, they were planning to fuck. 

“Take a video for me.” you whispered in Choso’s ear. 

“I was planning to anyways.” He whispered back.

“Is that fine with you, [your name]?” Nanami looked at you, holding out a ticket. 

You nod and take the ticket. Nanami and Haibara reminded you of your dad. Your mom and dad divorced and the courts decided to leave in your dad’s custody. He would be serious at times when it came to homework and curfew but he was also fun-loving. Letting you put make-up on him after he returned home from work.

You miss him.

Soon, the plane began the boarding process. Haibara offers you the window seat and you gladly accept. He sat in the middle and Nanami sat in the seat closest to the aisle.

You wave as Takuma and Choso head to the back.

You were zoning out on the movie playing on the screen. Nanami fell asleep, leaning against his husband’s shoulder. You felt a tap on your shoulder.

It was Haibara. “Ready for a story?” He had a somber look on his face.

You nodded as you turned off the screen, you gave him your full undivided attention.

Flashback hee hee!

It wasn’t a typical stormy night. It was a normal summer day. Two officers parked outside of a standard suburban home.

Rumors and investigations point to this house being home to the source of horrible, felonious crimes imaginable.

“Remember. The priority is the kid.” The brown-haired officer signals to the blond officer.

“We enter when he confirms the deal.”

Just as the brown-haired officer finished talking, the signal sounded.

Time to move in.

They moved towards the door and knocked softly. A woman’s voice gets closer to the door then the door creaks open.

The blonde officer kicks the door wide open. The woman falls back as the brown-haired officer pinned her head and body down.

“Baby! It’s a set-up! Get the brat and run!”

The man rushed down the hall, only for the inside agent with black hair to force him against the wall.

The blonde officer follows the path of the father who tried to run towards the kid’s room. He slowly opened the door, stopping when he heard the small pitter-patter of a scared child.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help.” The blonde doesn’t make an effort to overstep. 

“That’s what mommy says about the others. They won’t hurt me but they always do.” The child’s voice sounded broken, devoid of any real sense of innocence.

“I’m not with your mommy, okay?” He set his gun down on the floor. “Tell me your name.”

“Takuma.” The boy spoke softly, sliding out from underneath the bed.

The blonde officer puts a hand over his heart. “My name is Nanami Kento and I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again. Not on my watch.”

The boy approached Nanami, he wrapped his arms around his neck. Nanami lifted the boy into his arms.

“No one will hurt you. Ever again.” Nanami stroked the top of the boy’s head.

He made it back to the living room. The mother had been taken to the police car, while the father was being questioned by the black-haired agent, Geto.

Nanami looked over toward his partner, the brown-haired Haibara.

“Yu. Your cheek.” Nanami crouched to get a closer look at Haibara’s cheek. Haibara smiled. “Trust me! I’ve been through worse.”

He held out his hand to the child in Nanami’s arms. “Hey, tough guy. What’s your name?” Yu had this easy smile that made it easy to be comfortable around him.

“It’s Takuma.” The child spoke softly.

“Don’t worry, Takuma. We’ll take good care of you.”

“So what happened after that?” You felt your nails dig into the arm of the seat. 

“We took him to get a check-up from our trusted friend, Shoko. Let’s just say, she found multiple…bodily fluids that shouldn’t be in a three-year-old.” Haibara had a stony, disgusted look on his face. 

You wanted to tear Takuma’s biological parents apart.

In exchange for drugs, they let their three-year-old son be abused and used. Some people are truly fucked up.

“Does Takuma know?”

“We told him the truth when he turned thirteen. He’s been wanting to meet them, and they have been wanting to meet him as well.” Haibara carried a sad tone in his voice.

“Kento doesn’t want Takuma meeting them, so he told Takuma that his parents aren't around anymore.”

You open your mouth to ask some more questions until a chime interrupts your train of thought.

It was messages from Choso. 3 video attachments.

Damn, he actually sent them.

“Why don’t you get some rest, dear?” He smiled, patting you softly on the head.

“Night, Mr. Yu.” 

“Goodnight, [Your name].”

Malaysia was a dream come true. Full of tourist destinations and shops for days. You, Takuma, and Choso spent all day visiting every square inch of Malaysia. 

Haibara gave you three his card and told you three to go crazy. You and Choso mostly spent your own money, but Takuma obviously went crazy on Haibara's card.

Currently you, Takuma, and Choso are hanging out inside of a nightclub. It was Takuma’s idea.

“Nothing beats a nightclub in Malaysia.” Those were his exact words. Which he was right, the club was wild and packed to the brim. 

Apparently, Nanami was an old colleague of the club owner so you three got VIP treatment.

You dance around the VIP booth, your Clover Club cocktail hanging loosely from your fingers. 

“Kuma, Cho! Come dance with me!” You grab ahead of Takuma’s hand, and he smiles, slotting himself behind you. He moves his body against yours, both of you putting on an erotic, hot for Choso who is still on the couch. Choso hits a button that shuts the curtains, creating a suffocating yet intoxicating buzz in the air. 

Takuma’s hands grind your hips back against his growing hard-on. Choso motions Takuma to bring both of you closer. Takuma positions you to stand between Choso’s manspreading legs.

Choso lifts your little, black tank top, he squeezes your soft flesh around your tummy and hips. He undoes the belt holding up your skirt, bringing your panties down along with it. 

Takuma slides the strap of your tank top off, sliding it down until it bunches at your waist and your precious tits are exposed to the cold, biting air conditioning of the club’s VIP room.

“No bra? You were expecting this, weren’t you baby?” Choso places a kiss inches shy of your bud.

“Oh—! Cho, no teasing, please!” You try to direct his head lower but Takuma pins your hands behind your back and takes your right nipple into his mouth.

His teeth graze the sensitive flesh of your nipple, causing you to whimper and buck into Choso’s hot mouth.

Choso slurps at your cunt, juices coating the corners of his lips. 

“Who fucks you good, huh? Who?” Takuma pinches your left nipple and lightly slaps your right.

“You—! You and Cho do! Fuck me so good—!” You moan out, riding Choso’s face. Twitching every time his nose bumps into your pearl.

Choso leans back, pulling his cock free from his shorts, Takuma helps you into Choso’s lap. Grabbing Choso’s length and easing you down. 

“Mhm, fuck me Cho! Please, need your—dick so much!” Choso ignores your begging, his hands spread your asscheeks out and wide.

“Wait, huh? What are you do—“ The feeling of Takuma’s tip rimming your untouched hole sent a tingle through your body. 

Choso whispers in your ear. “You’re strong, baby. You can take him.”

Takuma eases into you, but this is met with so much resistance. 

“Damn, babe. No one ever fucked you in the ass? I’m a lucky guy.” Takuma curses as he slowly carves a path to your g-spot. 

Choso watches as you struggle to take him inside of you as well. Takuma’s thrusts grew harsher, causing you to bounce against Choso’s cock and grind your clit down against his base. You moaned out, lost with every jab to your cervix. 

“Cho—! Kuma—! Ahh gonna cum—!” You claw at Choso’s chest, leaving red scratch marks on his usual pasty grey skin. 

“Fucking hell, Takuma—she’s so fucking tight because of you—!” Choso grabs Takuma by the hair and smashes lips together.

Takuma whimpers as Choso’s long tongue invades his mouth. The kiss gets him all riled up, propelling his hips to plap against your ass harder, faster.

“Such a good fucking boy, fucking our girl so good.” He responds with a slight stutter in his movements.

“C—cummingggggg—!” You screamed out, rivaling the blasting music of the club’s DJ. 

You tremor as you squirt all over Choso’s pelvis. Seeing you cum this hard, harder than ever before causes him to cum prematurely like it was his first time seeing boobs again.

Your boys set you to the side. Laying you comfortably on a soft, cushy mountain of pillows. They fix up your clothing, pulling up your tank top and sliding up your skirt. Takuma’s sweater was additionally to cover your bare legs. Your head propped up by Choso’s thigh. 

“You didn’t cum yet, did you?” Takuma slides down on his knees. 

“Nah, gonna take care of it for me?” Choso cards his fingers through your hair.

Takuma gave his signature smile before leaning forward to kiss the tip.

“I’d never waste the opportunity to take care of you.”

[vhagarys]

masterlist ⚚

𓆩𓆪 AEMOND TARGARYEN

the slayer of bastards

issa ānogar

— part 2

mother of dragons

sired

— part 2

: short fics

final tribute

his throne

harrenhal

forgive me

𓆰 AEGON TARGARYEN

the slayer of bastards

issa ānogar

— part 2

the conquerer

sired

— part 2

𖤍 HELAENA TARGARYEN

issa ānogar

— part 2

the conquerer

thunderstorms and lightning

༗ RHAENYRA TARGARYEN

storm’s end

fic recs ⚚

— god is a woman by @kckt88

— dark cherry by @desireangel

— a vow of blood by @zeciex

— til death do us part by @asumofwords

— a kitten among dragons by @thekinslayed

— blood and vows by @novaursa

— concentrate by @sarahscribbles

— under the prince’s gaze by @theenchantresx

— the cannibal prince by @tomriddleslovergirl

— cloudless moon, summer night by @sylasthegrim

— servus dei by @aestheticpebbles

— mine by @aeralux

— is it broken? by @aemondapologistfrfr

— melt an igloo by @venmondiese

— pomegranate seed by @silverdragonfly

[flowerandblood]

Sacrifices (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x little sister • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, virginity loss, oral sex, smut, fluff, sexual tension, obsession ]

[ description: Finally, after months of waiting, his beloved, younger sister becomes his wife. The task that awaits him as an older brother is not to cause her pain during the beautiful act in which they will finally become one. ]

Part 4 (the last) of the Appearances, it can be read as standalone story.

My other works: Masterlist

_____

"Don't be afraid, hāedar (little sister)."

This was easier said than done.

The day of their nuptials, although it was the fulfilment of their dreams and hopes, was also a time full of terror and humiliation for them.

Aegon made sure to speak his thoughts aloud about how his younger brother would not be able to please his sister and that it was him she should give her wedding night to.

"With one eye, he won't even know where to put it." Aegon sneered, taking a deep sip from his cup. Their mother gave him a quick, rebuking glance.

"Aegon. That is enough."

The humiliation he felt burned his loins like fire, however, what really frightened him was her pale face, her hands clenched on her beautiful green dress, the field flowers pinned into her hair.

She looked so beautiful and innocent that he was afraid to touch her, barely brushing her tiny, delicate hands as they danced.

He hated courtly courtesy, and the steps he had to take to the rhythm of the music seemed forced and clumsy, yet he was doing it for her, just for her.

Although it was their wedding day, she was sad and tired.

To his joy, with the help of his mother, he managed to dissuade his brother and his friends from participating in their intimate act. When the chamber door closed behind them, they were left alone.

He was relieved when her body clung to his: it was not a gesture of desire, but of fear and uncertainty, as if she had been waiting for hours and could not do it because it would be indecent behaviour.

Embracing her husband.

She was his wife.

"Lēkia (big brother)." She muttered, sinking into his linen white shirt, her body covered only by her nightgown.

His arms involuntarily embraced her petite figure, sinking her face into his chest, her scent, her closeness making him feel a pleasant warmth in his stomach.

"I'm here. No one's going to hurt you." He whispered, his full lips placing a loud, soft kiss on the top of her head.

Gods, how he loved her.

Her, only her.

Love was a weakness and he knew it, and she was the only person he wanted and needed to be vulnerable in front of.

"Are you afraid?" She asked involuntarily, looking up at him with her big, dark eyes that she had inherited from their mother.

His broad hand rose to her plump cheek and stroked her skin with his thumb, looking at her with his lips parted, feeling a squeeze in his heart.

What should he answer?

What if she thought he was weak, that Aegon was right?

That he wouldn't be able to please her?

"What do you mean?" He muttered, looking into the depths of her dark, shining eyes.

"Have you ever lain with a woman? Before our betrothal. You can tell me, I'll understand." She whispered in a trembling voice, and he swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

He didn't know if it was a good idea to tell her, but he didn't want to begin their marriage with a lie.

"I did, issa dōna rūklon (my sweet flower). Once. It was Aegon's idea, not mine. On my thirteenth Name Day." He choked out with difficulty, feeling shame and fear at the thought that she might have rejected him, found him disgusting, unworthy of her affection.

She nodded, to his surprise looking as if she felt relieved, her trembling hand found his, their fingers intertwined in a soft, tender embrace.

"You promised me that from this day to the end of your days you would be mine alone." She whispered, and he nodded, feeling his erection swell and pulse in his breeches at her words, reminding him of the vow they had made to each other in the Great Sept.

"Yes, sweet sister. I am yours and you are mine." He sighed, leaning over her, in some natural, simple reflex, letting their lips cling to each other in a soft, warm kiss.

They both purred with contentment, carefully grasping each other's cheeks in their hands, stroking the skin of their faces with their fingers, letting their wet, rough tongues lick tentatively with the quiet click of their saliva.

"– ah – mmm –" She hummed as one of his arms hugged her waist, forcing her body to slam against his, his impatient cock pushing against her belly.

"– can you feel it, hāedar? –" He exhaled, looking down between their bodies, watching the bulge under the material of his breeches pressing against her body. "– can you feel what you're doing to me? – how much I crave to feel you? –"

She looked at him with a hazy, dreamy, hot gaze from which he felt a squeeze in his lower abdomen, her glistening, puffy lips parted wide.

"– I want it, brother – make it feel good –" She whispered, and he needed no more encouragement. She squealed in surprise, throwing her arms around his shoulders as he lifted her up, holding her beneath her buttocks, walking with her towards their large marital bed now standing in his chamber.

"– easy, little one – easy –" He murmured with a smile, touched by her innocent, involuntary behaviour, in the candlelight seeing how much her cheeks had blushed with emotion.

"– will it hurt, Aemond? – mum said it would –" She muttered as he laid her down on the soft, clean bedding, apparently revealing to him at last the reason for her sadness and anxiety all day.

He sighed heavily, climbing onto the bed, reading dozens of books before their wedding just to make sure he did everything he could to spare her suffering.

"– there's a thin wall inside you that I'm going to have to break – during this moment, you'll be able to feel discomfort and sting, but when it's behind us, I swear you'll feel nothing but pleasure –" He whispered in a trembling voice, spreading her thighs in front of him, letting the material of her nightgown expose her bare thighs.

She blinked, looking at him in disbelief, surprised, apparently, by his extensive knowledge on the subject, and breathed out quietly, as if trying to relax.

"– we'll start with what's familiar to you – we need to make you wet and willing for your brother – hm? –" He murmured, cocking his head, trailing his hands from her knees to her thighs. She nodded quickly, wriggling impatiently, clearly now more excited than frightened, shivering on her skin in the places where he ran his palms.

A sweet sigh of surprise left her lips as he drew her closer to him and leaned in, sinking his face into her heat: her folds were pink and swollen, soft and tender as silk. His sister smelled of bath, of fragrant oils and herself, of her own sweat – he murmured at the thought, the tip of his tongue running over her small, swollen bud, making her fingers clench in his hair, her head thrown back.

"– lēkia –" She mewled, rolling her hips back and forth, impatient, wanting more and harder. He, however, decided to take his time and explore her womanhood, the space around her pearl, her tight slit, which he teased with slow, lazy flicks of his tongue.

He felt the taste of her moisture on his tongue and grinned under his breath as he listened to her moans, feeling her body writhing before him in convulsions, his fingers digging warningly into the plush structure of her thigh.

"– lay still –" He hissed, finally forcing his tongue between her fleshy, hot walls, licking and rubbing the small spot just above her opening, teasing her bud with his nose, all swollen from his caresses.

"– Aemond – Aemond, Aemond, Aemond –" She sobbed in front of him, chasing her peak, but he knew he couldn't let her come.

Not yet.

He stopped his treatments and raised himself up on his elbows, looking at her with satisfaction, wiping his face with his hand. Her long, dark hair was spread around her head, her lips parted wide in a heavy breath, her gaze hot and full of desire.

"– I want more – husband –" She mumbled, and he sighed and nodded, sliding the material of his breeches lower, releasing his hard, long manhood, dripping from his precum.

Husband.

"– show me your breasts, sweet wife –" He commanded, and she drew in a loud breath and quickly slid the material of her nightgown off her shoulders, revealing her bare chest to him.

Something about her appearance, about how different she was from Madam, aroused him even more – her plump breasts with their sweet, hard nipples were more girlish, more innocent, more lovely.

His.

His hand squeezed his swollen cock at the base with sure, quick jerks as he leaned in, sinking and clamping his mouth on her little nipple, beginning to suck involuntarily as if he were a baby.

He had never heard her let out a similar moan before, so helpless and loud, her hands immediately pressed his face closer to her breast as if she wanted to melt into one with him.

"– b-brother – what are you – ah –" She mewled and shuddered as he directed the thick head of his cock against her leaking, hot slit and began to slowly push.

She gasped, throwing her head back, clearly not having known a similar sensation in her entire life – he opened her with difficulty and was met with resistance, her moan of discomfort telling him that this was the moment.

He released her breast and lifted himself up on his arm higher, to her face, wanting to look into her eyes, his nose pressed against her cheek.

"– I need to push harder now – this might hurt a little – spread your thighs wider – yes, just like that – ready? –" He asked and she nodded, her eyes big with desire and terror.

He cradled her head to the hollow of his neck, slid out a little and with one sure thrust hit something deep inside her, from which she cried out loudly and squealed in pain, her fingers tightening on the material of his shirt.

Fuck, he hadn't made it.

He had to do it again, harder.

"– just one more time – one more time and it will be over –" He whispered in a trembling voice, her walls almost painfully tight against his cock, clenching in panic.

He grasped her buttocks in his hands, pulling them apart with her whine of discomfort, and with one violent thrust he finally broke deeper into her warm interior. He felt her burst into sobs, her legs quivering all over in his embrace, her fingers clenched painfully hard against his skin.

"– stop – don't move – don't move –" She mumbled pleadingly, and he froze motionless, panting heavily, feeling the sting in his heart, for some reason feeling like crying himself. His lips placed warm, tender kisses on her temple and cheek, his broad hand simply stroking her hair, wanting to reassure her.

"– I know, I'm so sorry – I know I promised it would be easier – but the worst is behind us –" He promised, and she swallowed heavily, feeling how hard his erection pulsed inside her.

"– it still hurts –" She confessed, and he nodded.

"– we'll wait until it stops – we'll just embrace and kiss until the discomfort passes – hm? –" He asked in a shaky voice, afraid that she would reject him now, tell him to stop, that she didn't want to see him, that she would never let him touch her again.

She, however, nodded and looked at him with a trusting and affectionate gaze from which his lips, swollen with desire, melted with hers into one. They kissed loudly and unashamedly, their tongues dancing with each other deep in their throats, fighting for dominance, their hands stroking their hair and bodies.

Indeed, he felt her walls stop pressing so hard against him, her breathing calmed, tears of fear stopped flowing down her face. Tentatively, he slid deeper into her, and she only sighed, combing through his hair, without however uttering a word.

"– may I? –" He asked in a quivering voice, feeling his cock about to explode with desire. She looked up at him, her lips parted sweetly, her face all red from emotion and tears.

"– yes – just – be gentle – She mumbled, and he pressed his forehead against hers, with a low groan slowly and firmly sliding all the way into her. He looked at her face, at her eyelashes glistening from her tears, at her sweet red lips, and thought he had to do this to her.

"– sister –" He exhaled and began to pound into her, shyly and shallowly at first, thinking only of how tight, warm, wet she was, that he was just taking her maidenhood and her, what was rightfully his from the day she was born.

"– brother –" She muttered, throwing her head back, clearly feeling the opposite of discomfort at the moment.

"– 'm going to accelerate now –" He whispered, gripping her hips in his hands, imposing a sharp, fast rhythm on her, slamming into her the way he'd always dreamed of doing, the loud slaps of their skin building his way to fulfilment.

She moaned loudly, throwing her legs over his back, her hands on his neck pressed him closer, wanting to unite with him, to become one as they were always meant to be. They kissed passionately and deeply, then again and again as her hips began to rock, seeking a shared rhythm with him, her sweet little cunt began to squeeze him, soaking him all over.

"– ñuhon (mine) –" He exhaled between the aggressive, sticky, slick dance of their teeth and tongues, their bodies entwined in an aggressive, close embrace like a vine.

"– aōhon (yours) – iksan aōhon, lēkia (I'm yours, big brother), oh fuck, fuck, fuck! –" She cursed far too sweetly and innocently, throwing her head back in euphoria, going before his eyes through the kind of release she had never before experienced in his presence, the great wet spot under their buttocks making him lick his lips lustfully.

"– that's right – I intend to fulfil my duty to you as a husband every day, ābrazȳrys (wife) – ah – fuck, yes –" He sighed, feeling a tightening in his stones, only to feel a wonderful, stunning relief a moment later and finally fill her with his seed, as he had always been destined to do.

"– gods –" He exhaled, falling on top of her, their hands clenched on their bodies, refusing to let go, their breaths hitched and heavy, full of fulfilment.

"– I want to see you bare, valzȳrys (husband) –" She mumbled out in shame, and he hummed, for some reason pleased with her request.

At the thought that he hadn't discouraged her from their intimacy, that she wanted it as much as he did.

As he pulled off his shirt and breeches she slipped off the material of her nightgown, remaining unashamedly naked before him, sweet, beautiful, his.

His little sister.

He drew her to him, placing tender, loud kisses full of affection on her bare skin, her nimble fingers pulling at the ribbon material at the back of his head, releasing the front strands of his hair.

He looked at her and smiled, thinking with pride that he was her husband and she was his wife, that every night from that day until his death she would spend at his side, in his bed, bearing his children, his inheritance.

They clung to each other like little children, sinking into each other's embrace, stroking each other's naked bodies, kissing the skin of each other's sweaty faces, red with emotion, knowing that no one would ever separate them again.

Before the face of men and gods, they were one.

[superprincesspea]

Courted By the Dragon - Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Chapter 1 - Spring

Chapter 2 - A Court of Sharks and Dances

Chapter 3 - Secret Admirer

Chapter 4 - Solitude

Chapter 5 - Cyvasse

Chapter 6 - Total Annihilation

Chapter 7 - Crumbs

Chapter 8 - Dance of the Dragon

Chapter 9 - Favour

Chapter 10- Gallantry and Bravery

Chapter 11 - Remedy

Chapter 12 - Storm Chaser

Chapter 13 - Issa Jorrāelagon

Chapter 14 - Secrets and Sapphires

Chapter 15 - Forfeit

Chapter 16 - Uncle

Chapter 17 - Green

Chapter 18 - Vhagar

Chapter 19 - Criminals

Chapter 20 - Coming Soon

Aesthetic 1

Also available on AO3

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 7

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, FILTH, SMUT, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), praise, degradation, slight d/s vibes, spanking, thigh riding, bondage, ropes, Slight!Brat!Reader, Dom!Rhaenyra, Dom!Daemon, Daemon has a rope collection bc I said so

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: 2.1K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“If you didn’t make such lovely noises, I would gag you for that comment, issa jorrāelagon?” Daemon hums humorlessly. [my love]

“Daemon please,” you beg, pulling uselessly against the soft hemp ropes. Daemon had waited for you to finish your bath before ordering you to kneel on bed. He tied a silk blindfold around your head, cutting off your sight before tying you up. You could barely pick out his deft steps as he flitted around the room to find the softer rope in his collection. The ropes wound around your torso, and although you couldn’t see them, you could feel the grounding pressure from each intricate knot. Your arms were only bound at the wrist, giving Daemon the freedom to move you around and tie them where he wished. Right now, he had the rope rigged to the ceiling above the bed, forcing you higher on your knees with your arms stretched above your head.

“Be patient,” he orders with a swat to your thigh. 

You moan at the sting, head dropping back. “Daemon, please just touch me-”

“And why would I do that?” Daemon teases. “I said you were to wait patiently for Rhaenyra. This performance does not seem patient to me.”

“But, it’s not fai-”

“How about I give you something to keep that needy cunt busy?” 

You hear him move on the bed and feel the bed dip as he sits in front of you, sliding a thigh between yours. A groan of frustration escapes you as you realize that the ropes holding your arms up are keeping you from seating yourself fully on his thigh. “Daemon, baby, love, zaldrīzes, prince, please-” [dragon]

Daemon has mercy on you, loosening the rope holding your arms up. He leans in, nipping at your ear. “Go on, give me a show. Rub that needy cunt on my thigh.” The words barely leave his mouth before you grind down onto the hard, corded muscle of his thigh. You moan at the friction against your clit, and start a steady rhythm. Daemon’s hands rest at your hips, guiding them as he occasionally flexes his thigh up to add to the friction. 

“Gods, you’re making such a mess,” he purrs. “You just cannot help but cause trouble at every turn.” You whine, a blush lighting up your cheeks. The slide against Daemon’s bare thigh is smooth from the slick coating him. “I should make you clean the filthy mess you made.” He slides a hand down from your hip to swipe some of your slick. 

Daemon slides his coated fingers into your mouth. “Suck.” You slide your tongue across his fingers, eagerly following his direction. “That’s my filthy girl,” Daemon praises. 

You nibble at the tips of his fingers, and he pulls them out slowly. Daemon replaces his fingers with his thumb, holding your mouth open. Your hips still and brow furrows in confusion until Daemon spits in your mouth. “Don’t swallow yet,” he murmurs, rubbing at your tongue with the pad of his thumb. “Did I say to stop?” Daemon growls. “Keep those hips moving until I tell you to stop.”

“Yes my prince,” you garble out through his thumb. 

“You’re so beautiful like this issa jorrāelagon. Tied up and chasing whatever I give you like a desperate bitch in heat.” Daemon’s thumb pulls your jaw down again to spit into your mouth once more. “I’m giving you what you begged for. Use your words, what do you say?” [my love]

“Thank you.” You attempt to form the words, but you can feel a mixture of drool and Daemon’s spit dripping down your chin. 

Daemon moves to swipe it up with his thumb, popping it back into your mouth. “Swallow.” He leans down to kiss you after you swallow. You’re panting into his mouth, hips speeding up. “Are you close?” he asks.

You nod.

“Good,” Daemon purrs. “Stop.”

“Bu-” your hips stutter, but don’t stop. 

Daemon’s hands grip your hips, halting your movements before laying a spank on your ass. “I said stop.”

“She does have the hardest time listening, but she’s so beautiful when she writhes like that and begs for release.”

“Nyra,” you gasp as you hear your wife from across the room. How long had she been there? “Nyra please, Daemon is being unfair.”

“Oh, really?” Rhaenyra hums. “From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re quite enjoying yourself.”

“But Daemon didn’t let me cu-”

“What did she do to deserve this?” Nyra asks, and you can hear the conspiratorial tone of her voice.

“Nothing!”

“Keeping secrets.” You and Daemon answer at the same time.

“I was not asking you,” Nyra says as she spanks your thigh. “But please share what secrets you have been hiding.”

You whine, refusing to answer. Rhaenyra takes the bait, gripping your hair and pulling your head back roughly. “Either tell me now, or I will have Daemon spank that pretty ass red until you wish you had told me.”

“Nyra-”

“That’s not my name right now.”

Your eyes roll back. “My queen, please.”

“Now, jorrāelagon,” Daemon purred. “That’s not true.” His thigh grinds up into your cunt. “Why don’t you tell Rhaenyra the truth. Exactly like we practice.”

“Shi-shijetra issa, issa dāria.” Your voice shakes and you pull at the ropes circling your wrists in an effort to concentrate. [Forgive me, my queen.] 

“Say it,” Daemon says, hands sliding up your chest to pinch and tug at your nipples.

“Ny-nyke should emagon ivestretan ao.” You stutter out. [I should have told you.] 

“You’re forgetting something.”

“Don’t make me say it,” you whine. “It’s embarrassing.” 

Daemon answers you with a sharper pinch at your nipple, and your choke out a moan.

“Nyke aōhon, issa dāria.” [I’m yours, my queen.]

“And? What else, my desperate little rene?” [slut]

“Kostilus gaomagon issa. Nyke jorrāelagon ao naejot fuck issa needy orvorta.” [Please use me. I need you to fuck my needy cunt.]

Rhaenyra is silent, her grip on your hair drops and you feel her untie the blindfold. It drops from your face, and you find yourself staring up at her. “Fuck,” she breathes out, cupping your face. “Issa jorrāelagon, skoros emagon nyke gaomagon naejot gūrogon ao?” [My love, what have I done to deserve you?] She kisses you deeply, pulling back to plant kisses across your cheeks, placing a final one on your nose. 

“But Daemon is right,” Nyra says with a wink. “I think you’ve earned a punishment for keeping this from us.” She stand up straight, turning to address Daemon. “I think our naughty little love should start by cleaning up her mess, don’t you?”

Daemon grins wickedly, reaching up to untie your hands with a quick motion. Nyra catches your wrists, tying them behind your back with the silk blindfold. She pulls you back a bit as Daemon shifts away. With one hand at your bound wrists and the other knotted in your hair, Rhaenyra pushes you down until you’re level with Daemon’s thigh.

“Lick it up,” Daemon growls. “Clean your mess off my thigh and I might reconsider your punishment.” 

You lap at the slick coating Daemon’s thigh, letting Nyra’s grip guide your motions. She pulls you back as you try to kiss up Daemon’s inner thigh to his cock. “Are you really so desperate for cock that you cannot finish a simple task?” Nyra tugs at your hair.

“My queen-” you whine. 

“Finish.”

Whining, you redouble your efforts licking your slick from Daemon as they both whisper filthy praise. “You can stop now, jorrāelagon.” [love]

Rhaenyra pulls you back up to your knees, “you did such a good job for us. But you can take more, can’t you? How many strikes do you think you deserve?”

“Ten?” 

Daemon snorts a laugh, flipping you on all fours, facing away from him. “Twenty it is.” 

“Bu-”

“Hush,” Rhaenyra chides. “You’re going to take twenty strikes and count them out for us. If you miss one or forget to thank Daemon for each hit, we will restart the count.”

You let out a yelp as Daemon lands the first spank on your right ass cheek. He rubs at the stinging skin. The tinge of pain has your core dripping, and you arch back into his palm, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?” He teases.

“One, thank you Daemon.”

“That’s not the proper way to address the prince consort. I know that you know better.” Nyra purrs. 

“I’m sorry,” you squeak out. “Thank you my prince.”

“I’ll forgive you this time,” Daemon responds with another swat. This strike lands on the opposite cheek, but it is harder than the first. You squirm away from the hit, but Daemon reaches a hand to grab your bound wrists and push your chest down to the bed. The sheets feel rough as they rub against your sensitive nipples. 

“Two, thank you my prince.”

“What a good girl,” Daemon purrs, moving his hand to rub at your cunt. “You’re a dripping mess. This is supposed to be a punishment.” His hand pulls back to deliver three hard swats on the same cheek.

You jump, but Daemon’s other hand has you locked in place. Your breathing is heaving, and you pant as you try to regain your composure.

“What number, jorrāelagon?” Rhaenyra asks. “I don’t hear you thanking your prince.”

“Five, thank you my prince.” 

A gasp falls from your lips as Daemon again moves to rub your slick folds, this time sliding two fingers into you. “I might just leave you like this after we finish. Helpless, needy, wet, and begging for someone to fuck this desperate cunt.”

Your hips move back of their own according, trying to fuck back onto his fingers. Daemon pulls them out quickly, spanking your ass and thigh with two swift smacks.

“Ah!” you yelp. “Six-Seven! Seven, thank you my prince.” 

“Our desperate slut cannot seem to sit still and take her punishment,” Daemon teases. “Why don’t you give her something to focus on?” His fingers slide back into your cunt, fucking into and rubbing at your walls. You moan, not noticing Rhaenyra slide the dress from her shoulders before she sits, thighs spread in front of you. Daemon pulls you up by your arms, and your shoulders ache slightly. “Put that mouth to use,” Daemon orders. “You’re going to be a good girl, and make your queen cum.”

“I need my hands, my prince” you whine. 

“You have a tongue. Use it.” Daemon growls.

You begin lapping at Rhaenyra’s cunt in earnest, her gasps and moans encouraging you. Daemon lands another three hard slaps on your ass, all on the same cheek. You gasp into Rhaenyra’s cunt, your noises muffled. Daemon’s grip on your hands pulls you back up long enough for you to choke out the count and thank him.

“Fuck, that’s it jorrāelagon,” Rhaneyra moans as you suckle at her clit. You flick your tongue across the bud before sucking it again with earnest. You lick and suck your way down, fucking into her with your tongue, nose bumping at her clit with each thrust. [love]

You’re so focused on trying to make Rhaenyra come that you don’t notice the next few spanks. A hand pulls you away from her, and you whine at the loss of contact. “My poor little slut,” Daemon purrs. “Trying her best, but just can’t manage to do one simple task.”

“Looks like we are going to need to restart the count,” Nyra sighs. “And she was so close to being done.”

“Wait, that’s not fair,” you protest.

“Really, what number are we on?” Daemon asks.

You try to remember how many spanks Daemon had landed, but you truly hadn’t been paying attention. “Fourteen?”

Daemon laughs cruelly, spanking your sore ass. “Now we are at one. What do you say?”

“One, thank you my prince.”

NOTE: One thing about Daemon and Rhaenyra? They’re always gonna find a reason. One thing about Y/N, she shamelessly loves being manhandled. Is it really bratting if Y/N almost immediately gives in? Probably not, but in her defense they’re both kinda intimidating. Anyway, another chapter will be up later this week. Also, there are some ppl who I can’t tag, so if you’re listed and the tag list and not receiving notifications, please check that your settings are on “allow this blog to appear in search results” or message me if I messed up the spelling! ~ Lacie <3

Taglist: @syraxnyra , @avalyaaa , @angeliccss , @clocksonthewall79 , @sia2raw , @forma-lina , @lorarri , @imoonkiss , @ba6ysworld , @abaker74 , @aniisbavk1, @different-tale-student , @cruelladevil4,  @ronswhoree, @Lbl252003, @18dmlk, @beca2468 , @hnm-mika , @brocomegetyobitch, @pendejalian , @xoxoluvs-world, @lexasaurs634 , @jaydemon99 , @lovelyy-moonlight , @lavender2ari, @katiemars, @waitaminuteashh , @Judgementdayfan1, @shadyloveobject, @winterrnight , @malfoycassimalfoy , @Gracielacie, @serenitytomothings,

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[povsshortstorys]

G!p Rhaenyra Targaryen x pregnant!reader

I will protect you

Info - when family feud and blood is spilled will it ever really heal

Masterlist

I could do a part 2 if you’ll want :)




The candles flicked around the bedchambers, the sound of wind and grunts and loving whispers filling the space.

It started with simple spooning and quickly turned into something more, with you on your side and Rhaenyra thrusting in and out of you.

her hand falls to your chin; she pulls your head back onto her side, her soft, gentle lips

Meeting your neck and jaw “rhea…” You moan out.

Your wife knows when you moan her name and you're going to cum; she doubles her efforts, her tongue dragging across your jaw slightly.

Your free hand grabs the sheet and squeezes your knuckles. Turing white, “Come with me.” Her voice is like velvet in your ears; it pushes you over the edge.

Your body tightens; Rhaenyra's rhythm doesn’t change, doesn’t falter. She moans in Valyrian; it is muffled due to her mouth being on your neck.

She cums first, her teeth pressing on your neck as she does. She keeps pumping in and out as you squeeze around her, following behind, cumming.

You’ve never felt so relaxed. Every time you and your wife have sex, it’s the after you like the feeling, the closeness, the comfort, everything leaving your mind, the simplicity of just you and her.

“Don’t pull out,” you huff out. You feel Rhaenyra's lips kiss the back of your neck; her hand falls into your stomach, resting on the side of your baby bump.

“I love you.” Rhaenyra's voice vibrates down your back. “Issa zaldrīzes” (my dragon) before Rhaenyra could reply with something sweet, cheesy even, there was a knock at the chamber door.

“Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Y/N, the king has called for you,” the knight says, not daring to open the door.

“Is it important?” Rhaenyra calls out that neither of you want to move, and you definitely don’t have the energy to do so.

“It involves the children.” Something snapped in the both of you. The mood shifted; no longer a soft, thoughtless, peaceful feeling, it was now a place of panic.

“Okay, we’re coming,” you shout, your voice full of panic. Rhaenyra pulls out; she’s on her feet first. You try and move quickly, but the baby bump is slowing you down. “Hello”, you say on the edge of the bed.

“You can stay here; I’ll handle it.” Rhaenyra says, Seeing how pregnant you are, you're about 6 months pregnant.

“No, Jayce and Luke need us both.” Rhaenyra knows she can’t convince you, so she reaches and pulls you up. When you're standing, she grabs 2 nightgowns.

She helps you get yours on while you tie yours up. She gets her on and ties it. “I’m sure it’s nothing too bad,” Rhaenyra says, seeing your panicked eyes.

You move towards the door and open it. You walk out first, following behind the knight, and Rhaenyra follows you.

You reach back for her hand; she takes your hand. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” you keep saying, but you have a crashing feeling in your chest; you know something awful has happened.

——

“Jayce, Luke,” you called out, pushing the door open in the red sceptre. Everyone in the castle all gathered round, but you didn’t even notice you wanted your children.

You see Luke holding his nose, and Jayce stood next to him. Rhaenyra rushes over to Jayce, checking over a cut on his face.

You bent down in front of Luke. “Let me see, baby.” You say moving his little hands off his nose; it’s broken, definitely broken.

You kiss his head before standing back up. “What happened?” Rhaenyra commanded To know she stood in front of her family protecting them while standing behind her bit you could still be seen

The room corrupted. Everyone shouting and screaming, trying to herd; Viserys held onto his cane. Confusion and frustration filled his body. “Enough! All of you silence.” His voice took control of the room.

His eyes meant his daughter, then to his grandchildren, then to his sons. One day, while blood covered his face and a stitching covered his eye, “I want to know what happened now!” Viserys says

Jace stepped forwards. His voice stumbled at first. “Aemond insulted us. He insulted our mothers,” he said, more confidence, more strength filling his voice.

“He called us bastards because we don’t have fathers.”

Yours and Rhaenyra's relationship was rare; it was not uncommon, but Rhaenyra being in line to be queen added a different pressure.

Viserys turns to Aemond, looking at him, looking for something in his face. You pull your children close. “Aemond, why would you say such a thing?”

Aemond's eyes filled with hate. “Because it’s true. Look, they are being raised by two women. It’s wrong, mo…” He bit his tongue, near revealing who filled his head with such hatred.

“Alicent…” is all you spoke. Your voice is soft. Your sister had betrayed you, someone you trusted more than most, someone you looked up to.

Alicent's face dropped. She saw pain in your face; your eye swelled with tears. Alicent's mask slipped, but only for a second.

You lifted your head. Alicent's voice was stuck in her throat. Rhaenyra turned to look at you; she could see you were hurt.

“If you can’t admit what you said, Lady Alicent, at least have the decency to control your children.” Rhaenyra said, You stood in front of your family. You didn’t defend Alicent like you normally do; you just stood.

The tension between everyone in that room could be seen and felt; it was horrible – it was dark even.

Viserys took in a deep, shaky breath. His dying body shook, but he fought through; he needed to be strong now.

“Enough.” His eyes went around the room looking at each person. “This has gone too far. I will have order.” Viserys voices stuff of dominance and charge.

No matter what he said, everyone in that room knew the foundation that had been cracking for years that held them together just fell apart.

“This fighting must stop.” He announces no room for argument or question: “We are one. We are family. We are blood.”

You watched your sister's face fill with rage. “No, that is not enough!” Alicent cried out, taking control, her voice full of rage and hate.

“Aemond had been permanently disfigured; our son, Prince Lucerys, brought a knife. He wished to kill Viserys!”

Viserys was done with this; he wished to go back to bed. He was tired of trying to make everyone happy. “Alicent…” Viserys tried, but he cut off.

“No, you must do something; he took my son’s eye. There must be justice, consequences, something.” Her voice took over the tension in the room.

Viserys sighed. His body went rigid. “What would you have me do?” He said, looking at Alicent, his wife, “They are children!” His voice was full of rage.

Alicent looked over at Luke, who was pale as he held onto you; her eyes were locked on his. “I want one of her sons eyes, as my son lost an eye.”

You pulled them both even closer, moving them behind you as Rhaenyra moved closer to you, building a wall between her children and Alicent.

“This is madness.” Rhaenyra shook her head in disbelief. “You’re speaking of mutilating my children.” You move the boys behind you, knowing you would die before anyone came near them.

Alicent's eyes search the room they landed on, Ser Criston Cole. “Ser Criston Cole being me the eye of Lucerys Targaryen,” Alicent's voice full of desperation and anger.

Cole meant Alicent's eyes: “Your grace, I am sworn to protect you.” The truth is he is confident; on one hand, he has been told to do something on the other hand, it would lead to his death if he did, “but not like this”. He made his choice.

“Case this insanity” Viserys's cane crashed with the floor under his feet, making his words boom across the room: “This ends now. I will not…”

Rhaenyra turns her back away from everyone back to her family, her hand coming to rest on your stomach, unaware of what is happening behind her back.

Alicent rushes towards your family. Rhaenyra, back with a dagger in hand, rage filling her face, you push past them all and grab Alicent, holding her arms.

You struggle to hold the knife away, but you have to. Adrenaline rushes over you. “Y/N, Rhaenyra calls out.

“Stop this, sister!” You hiss out. Your voice is shaky; you tried. Everyone froze; no one moves, and no one spoke.

“Let me go!” Alicent desperately shouts at you, but you hold her. “You did this! You took everything from me; you turned them against me.” Alicent said, pushing forward slightly, but you held your ground.

“Stop this madness!” Your eyes, once understanding, now turning to rage. “You can’t stand the fact she chose me. She loves me, and we’re happy.” Alicent has always been jealous of you and rhaenyra the closest you both had, even when you were young.

“Your crown is slipping, sister, and now everyone sees who you truly are.” With that, Alicent struggles against you and frees herself, not without the dagger dragging down your arm.

You fall back into your wife; she holds you, “y/n”. Rhaenyra's eyes fall to the blood dripping down your fingers onto the floor.

Rhaenyra's hand moves to cover the cut. It was long, about 5-6 inches blood oozing from it.

“Alicent, cease this madness; step away!” Otto's voice cut through the room. Alicent drops the dagger; it clangs against the floor as Alicent moves without realising.

Rhaenyra doesn’t even look up; her eyes stay on you; everyone else fades into the background. “Are you okay?” Rhaenyra asks.

“We’re okay, I promise,” you say, always referring to the baby, “I’ve got you.” Rhaenyra says kissing you was a kiss of comfort more than anything.

The room was tense. Everyone's eyes were on the both of you, watching, waiting for something, but nothing did. Rhaenyra didn’t even look up; she just led you out of the room, the boys following behind you both.

——

You sat in the bedchamber; Rhaenyra watched closely as the maesters stitched up your arm.

“I’ll kill her.” Rhaenyra says plainly it was always easy for her to say before you could say anything to the maesters, “It’s a clean cut; it will heal, but you willr, I’m afraid.”

He finishes his stitching and stands up. “Thank you,” you say, giving him a smile. He nods his head and leaves, leaving you alone with your family.

“Boys, come here,” you say, turning to face them.

“Come here,” you say with a smile. Both boys walk over to you; they stand in front of you, heads down, upset with themselves.

“My sweet boys, this isn’t your fault.” Neither of the children look up at you or Rhaenyra, eyes still glued to the floor.

“Do you understand you mustn’t blame yourselves?” They look up, and you then, Rhaenyra, both their mothers have soft, gentle eyes, not disappointed eyes. They wouldn’t have their mothers.

“Help me up,” you say, reaching back and tapping Rhaenyra’s hand that’s resting on the top of your chair.

She uses that hand to always push you up. You use your uninjured arm to push yourself using the arm of the chair.

“I love you both,” you say, pulling your children in for a hug. You feel their arms around you well as far as they can go with your belly in the way.

“Now hug your mother and go to bed. No more trouble.” Jace and Luke let go of you and grab their mother.

Rhaenyra hugs Jace and Luke, giving them a kiss on the head. They both leave and go to bed, leaving you and your wife alone.

“You need to watch what you say,” you say, glancing at Rhaenyra before making your way over to the bed, trying even more than you were earlier.

“I meant it.” Rhaenyra says, sighing, you lift up the cover of the blanket. “Rhae, the maester was there; he could say something. You could be hanged for threatening the queen.” You lie down, hissing as the stitching on your hand hits the blanket.

Rhaenyra walks over to and sits in the middle of the bed so she is closer to you. “I will kill anything or anyone that hurts you.”

You know Rhaenyra is fiercely protective of you and the boys; she would start wars for her family. It’s one of the many things you love about her.

“I love you, Issa zaldrīzes” (my dragon), you say, moving even closer to her. Rhaenyra smiles at the closeness and watches you fall asleep.

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Hi! I’ve been loving your Dragon!Hybrid headcanons!

I was wondering if I please could request headcanons on how each Dragon!Hybrid would react if their partner got injured? I don’t mind the gender specified!

Thank you!

Hiya Anon!

I'm glad you like it. I hope this headcanon will entertain as much as the rest. It was very interesting to write how everyone would react differently, as each has different challenges.

If you ever want to request something again, you can identify yourself as the 😵‍💫 emoji!

Injuries

Masterlist

Dragon!Hybrid Masterlist

Aegon:

“What’s happened?” 

Aegon was out of breath and walking briskly to you. There seems to be a mild panic in his voice; it's a bit higher than usual. You don’t know how he learned you’d gotten yourself into the care of the maester, but he’s here now… 

You shake your head as the maester explains how the cut on your forehead was superficial; he ‘tsk,’ rolling his eyes and dismissing the man before he can finish his sentence. 

Whilst his help is quick to leave the room, the maester takes his time leaving, and recommends a thousand things for you to do before finally closing the door behind him, leaving you alone with Aegon. 

The scale adorning his neck now extends to his jaw, his eyes more lizard-y than human. He asks again. “What’s.  happened?” This time, panic left its place to anger. It’s your turn to roll your eyes. 

“Nothing, truly.” 

Was your annoyance justified? Yes. Was it wise to use a tone on Aegon at the current time? Probably not. You watched as a stream of smoke left his mouth, eyes shining and talons sharpening at the tip of his fingers. “Issa prumia…” It sounded both like a threat and a caress. Somehow, that made you shiver; you didn’t know what kind of emotion that reaction came from.

It was not often that Aegon’s temper escaped him; the sight of blood must truly have disturbed him for him to let Sunfyre take control of the situation. You sighed a little, both to control the shake in your limbs and to regain (even just a little bit) some patience, which you were lacking awfully. 

“I peeled an apple with a blunt knife.” You let out, softly. The heat of embarrassment flamed through your veins as the words got past your lips. 

When all Aegon (Sunfyre?) did was raise an eyebrow, not adding anything, you sighed again. Must you truly embarrass yourself further? 

He just stayed silent, eyes locked on you, sometimes going to the bandage on your forehead. Shoulders sinking, you capitulated.

“I guess I made to hard a movement whilst peeling the fruit, and I cut myself with the knife.” You explained further, eyes stubbornly kept over Aegon’s head, on the wall. 

Aegon huffed, voice rougher than usual. “You guess?” He chided. 

“It wasn’t my intention.” You bite back before taking a breath. All of this wasn’t worth a dragon’s anger. “I won’t do it ag—“

Before you could finish your sentence, Aegon was climbing over your knees, opening your arms from the hug you had self-imposed on your body to tuck himself beneath your chin. A soft, acute purring escaping him. 

“So you're fine. I’ll have someone cut your fruit from now on. Hold me now. I’ve missed you.” He orders.

Brat. 

Aemond: 

You, hurt? Good joke. No, but seriously, it won’t ever happen because he’ll bust that person’s face before they can even think about hurting you. He’ll destroy the walls, the stairs, and eradicate the bees for you. 

And if (when) he can’t, he’ll panic. 

“What are you doing?” Comes the snarling question from your lover, the previously locked door nearly taken out of its joints as he opened it. You look up from your kneeling position on the ground. 

“Cutting through the wood.” You answer truthfully, showing him the knife you were using before he’d rudely taken away said door. The world was fuzzy on the edge of your sight, and you wanted fresh air; that wasn't too much to ask, was it? 

“May I ask why?” Aemond’s tone is not less venomous than when he first spoke, but you’ve dealt with him before. Honesty is your best way out of his wrath. 

“I was bored, and I’m feeling a lot better.” 

Aemond grunts, not convinced by your words (maybe because of the paleness you exhibited or the numerous escape maneuvers you’d pulled throughout the week.) He helped you to stand, even going as far as to pat the dirt out of your clothes before leading you back again to the plush chair near the fire (drats!). 

“A fever and a cold don’t just go away within three days, Qelos.” He chided you coldly, puffing out the cushion of the chair before helping you sit down. 

“Maybe it was a small fever? A baby cold?” you tried to convince him again. Humour was your best ally in conditions such as this. It was lies. A cold? Please. The only cold you’ve caught was by being exposed to a botched poisoning (a bad fish) and were forced to ludicrous experiments by the maester to make your illness go quicker (sleeping three nights in a hammock for fresh air in winter.)

Rewarding your tries to humour, however, Aemond’s face lost its edge; a small smile curved his lips, if only for a moment. 

“I promise to make up for your lack of entertainment, Qelos. Shall I call for music and refreshments?” He teased, covering your legs with a blanket, and kneeling next to you. His good eye had lost the coldness it usually shined with. 

Baela: 

Poor baby, you’re hurt? Don’t worry; Baela will take care of you. She’s not one to panic, or, at least, to let it show too much. 

“How does it feel?” She’d ask, for the thousandth time (or so it seemed) in the last hour, looking at the bump on your forehead. 

She was holding a small bag of ice over it and knew as much as you did that your condition had not changed since you’d ungracefully fallen flat on your face and came back up on your feet with a disoriented spring to your movements. Yet you answered all the same. 

“It’s cold, but it seems like my heart has gone back to my chest, as my brain isn’t beating as hard now.”

She hummed softly as the only answer, running her finger through your hair. Baela let her gaze run over your face, lost in her own mind now. You were making it seem as if you hadn’t seen her scramble out of her dragon form when you fell from your seat on her back, and she didn’t comment on the unseemly manner in which you’d fallen. Both parties were happy that way. (Ego : bruised, forehead : bumped, knees scraped, but on equal ground.)

Daemon: 

To Daemon, it depends. Did it draw blood? Did you do this to yourself? If you didn’t bleed, walk it off. If someone did this to you?? Blood or not, there’s gonna be hell to pay! 

It wasn’t a big deal. Seriously. Some drunk lord was talking smack and waving his knife around, a bit too close to your face. It might have been covert threats; you weren’t really listening. You’d gotten cut. Next thing you know, Daemon is cradling your face in his hands, examining the cut under all it’s angles (it literally just has one!!!), a scowl very present on his face. 

You try to whisper comforting words to him. “It’s okay; I’m okay. It’s not deep.” But it seems to only anger him more. A deep, cavernous sound echos in the chamber, shaking you to your core, and making the usually warm atmosphere (colder by the sudden shift of Daemon’s mood) freezing now. 

The lord was scrambling, apologies spurting out of his mouth faster than he could breathe; the man was already half up when Daemon spoke. His gaze was still locked on the bleeding cut on your cheek. 

“Making such a pretty thing bleed. Tis a distasteful hobby.” He said, growled, at the man. The lord only agreed, probably hoping that it would help his cause. 

“It’s nothing.” You tried to soothe your lover again, but Daemon’s gaze snapped to your eyes, his hands once gently cradling your face now becoming more tense, squishing your cheeks a tad to silence you. Not your battle to fight anymore. 

Caraxes’ fire burnt in his eyes. 

Helaena: 

She’ll soothe you to the best of her abilities, but she’s not a maester and thus is no good at healing, except to press something over the blood. That she knows. She might be a bit panicked due to her lack of knowledge. 

“I’m fine, my lady.” You laugh quietly, moving your head away from Helaena’s grip. 

She was holding her carefully embroidered project to your bloody nose. “How can you be? You’re bleeding!” She told you in a small, huffy voice that she kept for the sleeping children near yourselves. 

“This tends to happen when someone opens a door on your nose.” You teased softly, taking her hands in yours to steady her movements. 

“I didn’t know you were behind it!” She claims (again) exasperation dripping into her tone, eyes wide. You chuckled, letting one of her hands go to push back a strand of her hair from her face. 

“I never said you were to blame, my lady.” You kissed the hand remaining in your, a smirk plastered on your lips, the taste of iron prominent on your tongue. 

“Come, let’s get you properly cleaned up; you’ve bled all over your clothes.”

Jacaerys: 

As Jace rarely spends time away from you (or has you alone), you don’t often get hurt by accident. Or, if someone hurts you with the intention to do it, that’s another story, and Jace will search for retribution (wait— that’s probably more Vermax, but who knows…) 

Head held low, sitting like a child being sermoned as Jace paces around your shared chambers quietly. The maester had only just left, and you had dreaded that situation in which you were now trusted. Objectively, due to the wings that were nervously (angrily) fluttering behind Jace at every step, you knew that he was probably having a heated conversation with Vermax. 

Your injury was not bad, per se. It wasn’t good either, and your arm would be in a sling for months to come, but you hadn’t been in any mortal danger. Sure, young Joffrey and little Aegon were playing roughly, but it wasn’t that dramatic!

“Jace…” You spoke softly, deciding to address the elephant in the room quicker so the tension would melt. 

“You could’ve hurt yourself worst. How could you think it was a good idea to let the toss you around?” He spat, his eyes burning with a worried fire inside of them. His tone was strained—not entirely Jace, but not wholly Vermax either. 

“It’s healthy for young boys to play fighting!” You defended calmly, raising from your seat to approach your lover, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“I should like you to remain whole instead.” He scoffed, wrapping his arms around your middle to bring you closer to his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, minding not to place your broken arm in way of more hurt. His body is warmer than usual; the wave of emotions is probably the cause for it. 

“I promise to you that I’ll be more careful and mindful,” you added when Jace’s brows furrowed, “of my non-dragon self.” 

A churtle escaped the man’s throat, and his arms tightened around you. “Don’t joke around; I’m mad at you.” He huffed, making you smile. 

Laenor:

Laenor is more diplomatic than most. He finds that some injuries are good for the built of characters, and so he is not too alarmed when you come back with scraped knees and such. He will spend some time tending to you and comforting you, too. But in no way, shape, or form will it be something that gives him anxiety. 

“Are you hurt?” Laenor called down the mat of the (rather large) fishing boat he’d brought you for a small trip as another angry wave crashed on the bow and over the deck. Staggering, you held on to whatever was nearer (and stable enough to help you keep your footing). 

“No!” Somehow, your voice went over the sound of the angry sea and angrier skies to meet Laenor’s ears, and with a solanel nod, he dropped to the deck. 

“Good.”

 

Rhaenyra: 

Another one who’ll be very zen about the whole ordeal. People get hurt; it’s life. People get attacked; it’s also life. Oh, what’s that? They got fired? They found them dead?? How sad.

“What is it, Beloved?” She called out to you, her nose buried in an important report. She heard the door of the room open and close, the usual smell of your bathing oils giving you up to her sense of smell. 

“There’s a new kitchen boy.” 

Your answer was short, to the point, accusatory, even, but it didn’t seem to matter to Rhaenyra, as she simply gazed up at you for a second, diving back down into her report afterward. 

She took a deep breath, placing the paper down and taking another one, looking utterly unbothered. The golden, shimmering scales on her forearms mired against the walls, lit up by the candles on her desk, but it didn’t bring the smile it usually did. Instead, you crossed your arms against your chest, awaiting an answer. 

“Rotation within the staff happens, my heart; it’s hardly something I can control.” 

You scoffed a little. “So, it’s not about yesterday’s incident, then?” Rhaenyra looked back at you, eyebrow raised, either quizzically or mockingly; you couldn’t decipher which. 

“Whatever do you mean?”

Your eyes narrowed, and you walked closer to her desk, leaning against it to close the distance between both of you further. “The spilled tea? Your threats have been heard loud and clear. Was it not your doing?” You accused her in a cold tone that an untrained ear could mistake for calmness. Rhaenyra only smiled. 

“I know not what you speak of, darling.” 

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