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[dragonismo]

HIII! I come from C.ai and first I wanted to say I absolutely love your bots, after the new episode of hotd, I’d loveee an Aegon bot of being his wife and taking care of him after the whole battle. I’d alsooo like to request a bot where his wife is pregnant, I’d love both equally, THANK YOUUU ❤️

Hi! I'm sorry it took me so long, but I finally posted the bots on my profile. I hope you like them!

AEGON TARGARYEN I You take care of him.

AEGON TARGARYEN I Fatherhood excites him.

[dragonismo]

Aemond targaryen prompt

Plot: Aemond, driven by a burning ambition to solidify his place in the war, seeks out Alys Rivers, hoping to secure a pact that will tip the scales in his favor. However, as the shadows of their encounter deepen, he begins to realize that the witch before him may not be the ally he anticipated—or perhaps, she is exactly who she is meant to be.

Credits and Considerations: The seed of this idea was planted by my fascination with the bot from @dragonismo, "The Prince and his witch" on Character ai. All credit for the initial structure of this story belongs to her, and I encourage everyone to explore and appreciate her work. I haven't read it Fire & Blood yet, so I apologize for any creative liberties taken, my imagination tends to run wild, especially on sleepless nights. English is not my first language, sorry :')

With all my heart,

Moon Dust.

The decrepit halls of Harrenhal, scarred by the passage of relentless time, were steeped in a palpable atmosphere of desolation, where silence was broken only by the insistent crackle of rain, striking mercilessly against the ruins of what had once been a feared and indomitable fortress. The sound of Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen’s leather boots echoed through the void, reverberating like a dark omen with every step. His every movement, firm and deliberate, exuded a grim elegance, like a shadow passing through the twilight.

Rumors, whispers laced with curses, danced on the lips of courtiers, carried by the cold winds that haunted the decaying fortress. They spoke of a witch who dwelled in that accursed place, a creature of darkness who, in exchange for infamous pacts, fulfilled the darkest desires of men. Aemond, with his icy gaze and mind sharp as a killer’s blade, did not easily succumb to folly, but the murmurs of "Alys Rivers" and her cunning had reached him in a moment of desperation, and even the pride of a dragon could bow to necessity. One does not win a war with honor; one wins with blood and fire.

As he entered the main hall, one of the few chambers still preserved in the rotten heart of Harrenhal, Aemond was enveloped by a heavy, unnerving aroma, a mix of burnt herbs and incense that seemed to poison the air. The prince wrinkled his nose but remained steadfast, his good eye scanning every shadowy corner of the room before he raised his voice, a command that sliced through the air like a blade.

"I’ve come to negotiate, witch."

For a moment, silence reigned once more, filled only with the wind's laments and the distant growl of Vhagar, the old dragon patiently waiting at the entrance, ever ready for battle. But the silence did not last. A feminine laugh, laden with malice and provocation, echoed through the corridors, mocking the prince’s proposition.

Aemond glimpsed a figure slinking through the shadows, too quick to be caught, but not quick enough to go unnoticed. He understood swiftly: he was being hunted, but not by an ordinary prey. What unfolded before him was a cruel game, orchestrated by a twisted mind. The image of Daemon Targaryen emerged first, but soon other familiar faces followed from the darkness: Helaena, with wide eyes and trembling lips, murmuring about an inevitable death; Aegon, consumed by flames; Alicent, gazing at Aemond as if he were a monster she herself had created; even the brothel keeper of the Silk Street had not been spared. The witch, cunning and relentless, toyed with his memories, with his deepest pains, forging illusions that assaulted his mind. But Aemond was a Targaryen, forged in fire and steel, and he would not be defeated by cheap tricks.

"Enough games, Alys," his voice thundered through the room as he advanced towards the hooded figure he had cornered, his gaze as sharp as a blade poised to deliver the final blow. With a swift motion, he spun her around to face him, but what he saw was not the witch.

Lucerys.

The illusion, quick and painful as a blade through his chest, dissolved before he could react, leaving only the empty hood at his feet.

"Not amusing, is it? Invading my home and demanding my services. I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m not Alys either." The voice, dripping with sarcasm, came from behind him. "She’s gone, but I’m here." When Aemond turned, he found himself facing the true witch, a figure who, despite her fragile appearance, exuded a dark and unshakeable power.

He stepped forward, his presence dominating the space between them. "You too grant men their deepest desires, don’t you? I’ve come here to test the limits of your power." His voice, cold and as sharp as winter, filled the room with an unquestionable authority.

Even standing before her, imposing, Aemond kept his distance, for to touch her would be to lower himself—and foolish, given the unknown extent of her powers. His good eye, intense and penetrating, studied every detail of the woman before him, trying to unravel her intentions. She could easily be mistaken for a demure court lady, small as a rat, and he, a prince ravenous for power, had no qualms about crushing a few rats.

"It should be me on the throne," he murmured, as if the words were obvious and needed no further context, as though they were uttered by the gods themselves.

The witch’s response was a low laugh, a sound that crackled like a spark in the darkness. "And it will be, it can be permanent," she said, with a softness that pricked the soul. "But understand, war is not the ideal path, and to plot against the life of your king? A bit treacherous, don’t you think?"

Aemond leaned over her, his arms rigidly crossed behind his back, the tension in his body evident, his eyes burning with fierce determination. "I cannot stand by and watch my brother destroy our house’s legacy. He is not worthy. The throne is mine. What do you suggest, witch?"

For a moment, time seemed to stop. Only the sound of her nails scraping against the wooden table broke the silence. Then, the witch sighed, adjusting her silk dress with calculated indifference, as if the weight of the words she was about to speak could not touch her.

"Your brother is practically dead, a breath of wind would topple him. Your sister, the poor girl, lost to madness, unable to recover after the loss of her son. And then there’s only you, prince regent—or should I call you… my king?"

"My king." The words, dripping with venom and promise, ignited a flame of fury in Aemond’s eyes.

"And what do you gain from this, witch?" He stepped closer, rage pulsing in his veins, his eyes locked on hers, daring her to flinch.

"I am a simple woman," she said, her voice as soft as it was treacherous. "All I desire is safety, the assurance that my life will be preserved. And, of course, a slightly bolder request: I want a seat at the small council during your reign."

A seat at the small council. The demand, bold and provocative, inflamed Aemond’s mind, each word a strike against his honor. A woman, on the small council? His expression hardened, his hands fell heavily on the table, as if he could crush the affront before him.

"And what use would you have on the small council? Perhaps as my cupbearer during war councils," Aemond’s tone was pure derision, a challenge thrown at her feet.

"My price is low," she cut him off with a sour expression, her words laced with disdain that almost made him laugh. "I’m not asking for riches, titles, or lands. Just a seat at the table. I’m merely ensuring that the king I place on the throne remains there, and I doubt those weak, pathetic men could keep you there alone. Not when all they offer is flattery and incompetence. Let me remind you, I’m accomplishing in one afternoon what they haven’t managed in years. Pathetic."

Aemond’s eyes narrowed, darkening further as he scrutinized every detail of her face, searching for any sign of weakness, any hint of doubt.

"You are a witch. I know the power your magic carries," he said, his voice deep and laced with threat. "But you will never, ever, use that power against me. That means no deceiving me, no enchanting me, no forcing me to say, do, or feel anything I do not desire. My mind and my body are my own. The only power I grant you is the right to whisper advice in my ear—occasionally."

The woman waved her hands dismissively, showing little interest in the prince’s words, gesturing towards her well-organized desk, with only a few scrolls and quills that seemed untouched at that moment.

"Your body and mind will be yours, my words and counsel will be delivered solely to the king. But do not be mistaken. I will not hold my tongue if I see something wrong. I am not giving you the title of prince regent; I am making you the damn king. Still, I will have the decorum not to embarrass you in front of others. Now, now, how shall we seal this contract, hmm?" She blinked her large eyes with a glint of mischief at the prince, awaiting a reaction beyond his usual scowl.

[dragonismo]

WAIT SOME OF MY BOTS ARE NOT SHOWING ??? I've made them public like five times but they still don't show on the profile...

[dragonismo]

If Otto was smart:

[dragonismo]

Maybe I am too biased, you know. I mean, I don't like Rhaenyra as much as I like some characters on Team Green but like, girl, perhaps I was expecting a lot from her as well. Where are the war crimes that Team Black supporters were going to defend? Burnt bastards? She didn't kill the baby so... I admit I found her more interesting this season, but I still find her pretty boring too in comparison. Why can't woman be evil? 🥺 Give Aemond's rage to Rhaenyra, at least that way it would be justified.

[dragonismo]

SEASON 2 EP.8 SPOILERS AHEAD! Because I just watched the episode and I need to complain.

In season one, Alicent was told Rhaenyra would murder her children to secure her claim to the Iron Throne. Now, Rhaenyra admitted to her she would need to murder her children to secure her claim to the Iron Throne.

A few episodes ago, Rhaenyra claimed she would never condemn a mother to her same sorrow when the cold-blooded murder of Jaehaerys happened. Now, Rhaenyra condemns a mother to her same sorrow because she needs to kill Aegon, despite being assured he is malleable and might be willing to make peace due to his current condition.

A few episodes ago, Rhaenyra sought out Alicent because she was desperate to make peace, desperate to avoid spilling more blood. Alicent had no power to do such a thing. Aegon was mad because the Blacks murder his son, his councilmen listen to her no longer, and the war was raging. Alicent now has the power and is desperate to make peace. Aegon is broken, the council is weak, and Rhaenyra has now grown stronger. Rhaenyra says no.

In season one, Alicent cared about her children. She was willing to take justice into her own hands when Aemond was maimed because he was her son. A son who lost an eye for telling the truth. An injustice that went unpunished (and I'm not talking about putting out Lucerys's eye in retribution, let's be sensible. I'm talking about a lecture at least) by Rhaenyra.

Now, Alicent betrayed her sons. She betrayed him and went to the same woman who allowed such injustice to remain unpunished. An injustice which transformed his son into the ruthless, callous man he is now. An injustice that will mark him for his entire life.

Alicent started a war to protect her people because she cares about her loved ones. Now, more than one person might be beheaded for treason. Her brother, her lover, her sons, and her father could most certainly die because she decided to betray them.

In case you didn't understood:

A mother, who begun a war to protect her children, now allowed them to be killed because she misunderstood.

A queen who sought peace so as not to shed more blood now requires more blood to be shed so she can make peace.

A mother who lost a son claimed she doesn't want to condemn another mother to her same sorrow, but admits to a mother that she must kill her son to secure her own claim.

I might be wrong, but it doesn't makes a lot of sense to me. Was Otto right all this time? Perhaps. I would like to know what the hell happened in the book and if this has an ounce of canon or not because, like—damn.

I really liked Team Green in season one. Aegon is my favorite character because I believe him to be the most complex one, Aemond was easy for me to understand because I could relate to him in some ways, Alicent made sense, and Helaena is adorable. However, I feel like the Greens made no sense in season two. I don't understand what Aemond is doing and Alicent is acting against everything she built in the previous season.

If anyone read the book, please do tell me how much they messed this up because I've seen some of you complaining. ❤️

[dragonismo]

— of lies and empty promises.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Strong! Reader.

trope: something between star-crossed lovers and friends x enemies x lovers.

synopsis: while you enjoy a pleasant afternoon together, the differences between your families begin to make their way into your friendship, giving rise to moments of discontent between both of you.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: Both Aemond and reader are young. I believe there is no more warnings. Only Aemond is a tad bit possessive, jealous, and manipulative, but is purely innocent.

an: I've had this story saved in drafts since season 1 ended, but I've been neglecting it. Now, after seeing how hot handsome Aemond looks in the season 2 trailer, my fixation is back and so is my desire to publish this. This is something like a small introduction to what I have planned, so please, if you are interested, stay tuned for the next chapters!

You and Aemond were resting under the shade of the weirwood, with the sunlight filtering through its branches and red leaves. It was the most tranquil place in the Red Keep, ideal for doing nothing but enjoying a well-deserved rest after a day full of study and sword training, and as it was a rather warm summer afternoon, the mood was truly pleasant.

"I wish every day were this peaceful," you commented as you lay on the grass. "I would spend my entire life here if I knew no one would dare bother me. Can you imagine? Just lying in the sun, with no one behind rushing us to our lessons. And so, perhaps we could spend more time together."

"As far as I am aware, no one keeps you from my company," Aemond replied as he lay down next to you, palms flat on his stomach, legs crossed.

His comment made you frown: was he playing the fool, or was he really oblivious to certain glances? While shading your eyes from the sun with one hand, you tilted your face towards him before responding. "Oh, but they do, they sure do. I bet you know it is so."

"Oh, and by whom?" he inquired with a mischievous grin, one that vanished as soon as he heard the answer to his own question.

"The Queen."

Oh now that made him roll his eyes.

It was an immediate reaction, as Aemond was more than used to hearing you refer to his mother as if she were an impediment to your friendship, being that she never raised any objection despite her own opinions regarding Rhaenyra's children.

And how could she not have them? It was more than clear to him not only the truth hidden behind his mother's suspicions, but also how they were much more than mere prejudices towards the Princess.

"As I have told you countless times before," he said, not bothering to hide the subtle hint of frustration he felt at bringing up the issue again. "My mother holds no grudge against you."

"Then maybe her face hasn't caught on," you countered. "Or have you not seen how she scowls upon seeing me?"

"Believe me, you are not the source of her complaints. Mother spends more time grumbling about your brothers than about you, and rightfully so. They are fiends. You are not to deny it."

But to you it didn't seem such a far-fetched idea. You were about to argue once more, but then suddenly refrained from voicing your own opinion on the matter. You knew Aemond's position; how he preferred to turn a deaf ear and therefore often dismissed the matter. After all, what could the Queen do? She was not going to succeed in separating you both when the King was more than delighted with your bond.

Moreover; was it really worth arguing? It would do nothing but sour things between you two, something you feared greatly, for you held Aemond in high regard.

"Do as you wish," you replied. You did not want to interrupt the peaceful mood with reminders of the many quarrels that prevailed in your family, and so as usual, you decided to remain silent and put the whole matter aside. Still, your discontent showed on your face. "I was only expressing my desire to spend each day as I do now. I wish my only duty was to lie here and take a nap."

Aemond chuckled. "I fail to see where I fit in."

"I m afraid you are too irritating to be a part of it."

"Well, that is rather unkind of you. And selfish, I would say, as I want to be included anyhow," Aemond retorted stubbornly.

As he sat now with his hands on his knees, he looked at you with a determination unbecoming of someone his age, for not even men sounded as certain when they chose their greatest pursuits. But in Aemond's eyes, at nothing but ten years old, there wasn't a hint of doubt when he said, "Every time I imagine where I wish to be, you are by my side. Even in my dreams I relish in your company. I believe it is only fair that I am part of your ambitions and yearnings too, would you not think so? I would like it that way."

"But I never asked for such a thing," you replied. "Why am I to even consider it? I want my dreams to be my own, and not shared with anyone else. Dreams are one's own thing after all. So I wonder, why share them with me?"

"Because I love you, of course," Aemond answered you without further regard. "And if you love me as much, you must include me in yours, for not to do so means our friendship is not as important to you as it is to me," he added that last bit with a hint of playfulness.

You then turned to look at him. "Not as important?"

How confusing. It should bother you to hear him claim such a thing, for after all, were you not the one who had always defended him from the ill-treatment of your brothers? Were you not the one who had shown him unconditional affection despite the growing differences between your family? Were you not the one who, even in these moments, and as hard as it was not to, had never been upset with him? For even when you were accused of loving him less or branded as egotistical, you worried that those concerns were far more than harmless banter.

"Of course I love you as much. I would say more, even."

Aemond's smile widened, as he had expected such an answer. "And yet, it is I who always has you in mind. Who loves whom the most, then?"

"Me," you wanted to say. But was love not too big a concept for such young people?

You were taken aback. Not because the answer would be disheartening, and certainly not because you doubted the extent of your affection for him, quite the opposite: for one as young as yourself, the dephts of your feelings frightened him.

Then, instead of answering his question, you sat up, wiped the dust from your hands on your robes, and with sudden curiosity asked, "And what is that dream of yours, pray tell? I reckon it is no more mind-boggling than mine, where I gorge myself in lemon tarts as I ride the Black Dread."

Aemond snickered at your comment, but his words sounded a bit too serious to be a jest when he uttered them. "Well of course it is simpler. It is just about…"

"Your highness," a voice interrupted him.

A handmaiden approached from the opening, looking somewhere between hurried and delighted, something that intrigued you as much as it annoyed Aemond, who hoped this interruption would be brief so he could resume his comment. After a bow, however, he found her words rather daunting.

"Your mother sends for you, your highness. She wishes to introduce you to a new brother," the woman announced, which caught your attention so much it made you forget all about your previous conversation with him.

"My mother, you said?" you beamed before you pushed yourself up from the ground in no time, dusted off your clothes and bade Aemond farewell with such haste he could barely make out an "excuse me" as you and the handmaiden walked away.

He watched you as you ran ahead of her, clearly excited to meet what awaited you in your mother's chambers. As for him, he remained seated under the tree for a few seconds longer, a hint of jealousy souring his smile as his brow furrowed.

What a pleasant afternoon you were having so far. And yet again, your siblings always seemed to interrupt you both, even if they were not doing so directly. Will he ever be free of the burden of kinship?

How you could choose your brothers was beyond him. Was he not the one who often amused you? He had always considered himself closer to you than Jacaerys and Lucerys, but what was it about those bastards that always pulled you away from him nonetheless? And now there was a third!

Were his concerns correct then? Did he love you more than you loved him? But no, the very idea seemed so absurd it brought a scornful laugh from him.

You would never dare choose them over him!

"Damn them," he exclaimed before standing up as well. There was no use in staying here now that he was alone.