#King x princess

[r3dc4ndy]

I NEED HELP (again)

I JUST REMEMBERED ABT A STORY WHERE THE READER IS A PLUS SIZE PRINCESS READER AND IS KINDA INSECURE BUT HER FATHER'S KINGDOM WAS KINDA FAILING, AND EVEN THO HE DIDN'T WANT HE HAD TO MARRY OFF ALL HIS DAUGHTERS, AND THE READER WAS THE ONLY ONE LEFT(I THINK) BUT AN OUTLAW KING/LEADER WANTED HER HAND IN MARRIAGE AND THEY HAD TO MARRY THE OUTLAW.

MY MEMORY IS KINDA FUZZY BUT THIS IS ROUGHLY WHAT THE STORY WAS ABOUT I THINK. I MIGHT REMEMBER MORE DETAILS LATER.

PLEASE

HELP

ME

ISTG IF IT WAS DELETED I WILL GENUINELY CRY (NOT A JOKE)

[bluerosefox]

Siblings Behavior

It's shenanigans time guys

So have this DpxDc idea.

So, the Justice League and the Light (OR villains in general) have two newish members, they've both been around for about a year and they're from the same plane of existence (a place called the Infinite Realms according to those who dabble in the occult)

And the two seem to have some serious beef with each other.

Wisp and Wrath are basicly feral cats hissing and hekles raised when they spot the other and their fights normally ends in draws. They're evenly matched and sometimes the two even fight to the point they are out of steam and just fist fight.

Needless to say everyone believes they totally hate each other and might one day kill (or end?) One of them.

So everything gets turned upside down when suddenly both factions of heros and villains are suddenly summoned to the Infinite Realms.

In a throne room.

In front of the Infinite King (or most commonly known as the Ghost King)

A King who looks very, very much like Wisp and Wrath (like yeah the two do sometimes look alike, like when they grin with sharp teeth and their hair color, but one has blue skin and red eyes for crying out loud!)

He's staring at them, glowing green eyes that seemed to just... know.

"Welcome to the Infinite Realms. I am King Phantom." His voice echoing in the throne room and seemed to rattle them deeply, like a sudden chill in the early morning.

"I have summoned you all here for a single reason." He continued to say "Tell me..."

Here he paused, closed his eyes before leaning back on the chair then he smiled big and cheerfully asked.

"How are my kids doing in your world? Dan and Ellie aren't causing too much chaos in their wake are they? They tend to go a tiny bit overboard sometimes but what siblings don't when they rough house you know. Tell me everything."

[ladydreamfyyreee]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 & 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧.

𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 : ( @𝐚𝐲𝐨_𝐦𝐮𝐫𝟖𝟎𝟓𝟗 ) 𝐨𝐧 𝐗

[kettlefire]

Prepare for the unexpected. (DPxDC)

Everyone knew about the reign of Pariah Dark. Even those who did not dabble in those realms have heard the tale of the tyrant. A power-hungry man who ruled over the dead with an iron fist.

Following the rise of Pariah Dark, his realm had been effectively cut off from communication. Many mystics and magic users knew better than to open the door of nightmares that could arise if Pariah Dark's reach went further than his own realm.

Except, the universe had plans to bring the realm of the dead back into the cards.

A new opponent, one that had all of Earth's heroes scrambling for options. A being with powers of a god over weather, destruction was on the horizon. A world ending threat.

It's the only reason the Justice League was doing this. In a deep bunker, far from close civilization as a precaution, the heroes looked on with grim expressions.

The world was already being threatened. It would be destroyed regardless of what the league did. So it only made sense to make the last ditch effort. To summon someone strong enough to defeat the threat.

No one wanted to do it. No one wanted to be the one to pull the realm of the dead back to the living. The consequences were untold if this succeeded. If Pariah Dark was freed and defeated the threat, whose to say he won't want control?

That was a problem for later. For the aftermath. For now, the league could only watch on with bated breath as Constantine completely the summon ritual.

They watched on as the shadows in the room seemed to darken and grow. As the sigil sputtered to life with a glow that was growing increasingly brighter. A sudden gust of wind rushed through the room, the temperature began to drop with eaching ticking second.

And then it was all gone.

The room stood perfectly still. Just as it had been moments before. Nothing changed. No giant king standing before them, no sign that the ritual worked.

The room stood deadly still for another beat before the murmurs started. The team trying to make sense of the situation, figure out what went wrong.

Constantine swore up and down that this was the correct ritual, taking offense that they would even think the problem was on his end. It only made it better when it finally happened.

A loud sound ripped through the room, pulling everyone's attention back to the summoning circle. Just in time to see a tear appear in the space above the circle.

A thin tear that ran the length of eight feet. The fabric of the dimension seems to curl at the edges, pulling back to reveal a deep glowing swirl of greens. A dark gloved hand reached through, fingers curling around the edge of the tear, stretching it even further.

A portal. The ritual had worked, but there had been a delay. A delay that had every hero nerves on edge. Each team member tensed, weapons at the ready as they watched the being stretch the portal to the right size.

Then, a foot stepped out with a heavy thud. A dark boot that looked otherworldly despite its similarity to mortal clothing. A deep black that seemed never-ending. A second foot quickly followed before a full body emerged from the portal.

Not many people in the room have ever seen Pariah Dark, let alone know what to expect. Based on what Constantine and Zatara had said, this wasn't Pariah Dark.

A man had stepped out of the portal, standing at almost seven feet tall, and built like a brick house. One glance at the glowing white hair, deadly red eyes, and shard teeth was enough to know this being was not to be messed with.

But there was no giant show of armor or royal garbs. There is no large crown at the top of his head or jewelry from the infinite realms laced around his neck.

Instead, the man stood before them in combat boots, worn-in ripped jeans, a graphic t-shirt, and a spiked leather jacket. Despite his almost normal clothing choice, the man's jacket seemed to be a never-ending depth of the dark night sky. If one was to look closely enough, the cosmos could almost be made out in the sea of darkness.

None of that would have prepared them for when the man spoke. His tone sounded more bored than anything as he took a step forward.

"Oh, so now you need the help of the dead." The man had spoken, running a hand through his hair. When Batman took a step forward to speak, the man raised a hand. Immediately commanding silence in the single gesture. "I'm on babysitting duty and have yet to have a cup of coffee. I'll be right back."

Just like that, both the man and portal vanished into thin air. Leaving behind a group of stunned heroes. Not only was the man not Pariah Dark, but he was also supposedly babysitting.

"Did that just-"

The Flash had been the first voice to speak up, his eyes trained on where the man had once stood. Except he had barely made it through the first few words before the man was suddenly back.

The man that now had a child hanging off his shoulders and another teen being held up by his scruff. Unlike the man, these kids looked human.

Too human for Bruce's liking. The dark black hair and bright blue eyes had every heroes eyes flickering to Batman for just the briefest moment.

"This isn't fair! I'm not even the king. Why do I have to be here!" The teenager had been complaining the moment the man had reappeared. Arms crossed tight over his chest and seemingly used to being held dangling. "Besides, who brings kids to a show down! Wait til I tell mom about this."

"Aw, come on, Danny. This is gonna be fun!!" The younger girl seemed in much better spirits than the teen, Danny. She had climbed up the large man, sitting on his shoulders and resting her arms on the mess of glowing hair. "It's like take your kids to work day! Ooo, Dan! Can we fight too!?"

Unlike the two kids, the man looked purely exhausted and annoyed. The man, Dan, dropped Danny like a sack of potatoes as he took a long drink from the travel cup in his hand.

It didn't take a genius to recognize the look of an exhausted parent in Dan's expression. A look many of the league members were well acquainted to. A look that even had Batman grimacing with sympathy.

"Can it, little shits. You two were grounded, remember." Dan had growled at the kids before shifting his focus back on the team of heroes before them. His glowing eyes set in a deadly glare. "Pariah Dark isn't coming, and he never will. He's been dethroned and banished. We're the best you've got."

A summoning that started with a group of on edge and scared heroes looking for the ghost king, ended in a way no one expected.

No one was even sure if it made any sense. They weren't sure if they should feel hopeful or in despair.

Because truly, what was a ghostly man with two seemingly human children against a godlike foe with the control over the weather?

The unspoken question of power and ability seemed to vanish following Dan downing the metal travel cup of coffee, and crushing it in his fist.

He tossed it to the side, straighting up his posture as he looked over the heroes. Dan might not be a hero, but he's been playing family for too long.

An almost feral, bloodhungry grin spread across the man's face, sharp fangs on full display. The look made the man suddenly look even less human. He looked closer to a demon from the pits of hell rather than the exhausted parent he looked just a few seconds ago.

"Point me in the direction of this bastard. It's been too long since I let loose and had some fun."

[eraenaa]

Bound by Blood

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen Princess Reader Tag List

Synopsis: They can no longer hinder Aemond from taking whatever he wants, and you are the only one he desperately wants. 

Warnings: Non-Con, Targcest, ¿Harsher Aemond?, Mature, 18+, Oral Sex (f receiving), Fingering, P in V Sex, Jealousy, Possessive, Mentions of Death, Not Proofread

Word Count: 5,475

You bit your lip as you prevented a giggle from escaping your lips. You were merely walking down the halls of your home when you heard a peculiar sound that stirred your curiosity. The sound led you to the chambers of your brother, Aemond. You peeked through the ajar door, and your eyes widened at the scene; your brother stood in his chambers, without his tunic, whilst a lady stood before him, naked. She was peppering kisses on his bare chest whilst Aemond’s head was turned to the ceiling, his lone eye shut in what you presumed was pleasure. 

You could not help but let out a gasp left your lips as Aemond pushed the lady to kneel before him. Your hand covered your mouth as Aemond turned his gaze towards you. His lilac eye widened in surprise that mirrored yours. You gathered the skirts of your dress and bolted through the halls of the keep. You let out a bubbling laugh as you ran, hearing your brother’s footsteps following you as well as his voice calling your name. You found yourself seeking refuge behind the white, ashy trunk of the Weirwood tree, peeking from the trunk to see if your brother had followed you. You let out a yelp as you felt a firm hold on your waist and your body being pushed against the trunk of the ancient, sacred tree. 

“You dare spy on me?” Aemond questioned, now dressed in his tunic. You laughed at your brother, whose hold on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into the bodice of your dress, tickling you. “You were with a woman,” You stated and let out another laugh as he did not cease his torment. “You surprise me, brother. I was led to believe you were indifferent to such acts… of pleasure,” You mused as your laughs died down, but your beloved brother did not relinquish his hold nor the close proximity of your faces. Aemond hummed, breathing in your scent and savoring the mirth in your eyes that was caused at his expense. “You were not meant to see such a scene,” He said sternly and watched as you shrugged. Aemond swallowed thickly as his eye glimpsed downward and saw the light heaving of your chest, your skin aglow with the light of the afternoon sun. 

“Tell me, was the lady in your chambers a gift from Aegon?” You asked in curiosity. You often see ladies of pleasure secretly threading the halls of the keep, but they were usually meant for your eldest brother. “Our brother is bedridden,” Aemond stated, and you nodded. “Ah… so you have taken it upon yourself to continue on his traditions,” You teased and watched as your brother’s jaw tensed. You licked your lips and rested your hands on his shoulders. “She was no whore, she was a lady of house Redwine,” Your brother defended. Your brows shot up in surprise. “A noblewoman,” You say, and he curtly nods, brushing away your hair that was jostled by the wind. 

“Will you marry her then?” You asked innocently with a tilt of your head. Aemond scoffed and shook his head, his face contorting in disgust. “No,” He immediately responded. His heart growing soft at the confused pout on your lips. “I have no wish for a marriage… especially with someone so… plain,” Your brother explained, and you nodded. Aemond pulled you away from the trunk of the tree and linked your arms together, escorting you back to the castle. 

“Speaking of marriages… when is mine?” You inquired, and Aemond halted in his steps, his body tensing at your query. “Aegon was the one to see through the proposals, and seeing that he is now bedridden and the duties of the king have passed towards the prince regent, I ask you, brother, when will I be married?” You asked, your innocent eyes gazing up at your older brother, who tried hard to mask his rage at the thought of your marriage. “Never, if I can help it,” He stated seriously, but you took it as a jest. “Aemond,” You whined as your brother continued to walk. “The war is finished, and I am of age now.” You reasoned, but Aemond only shook his head. “We will discuss such matters in due time.” He said simply, but you protested. “It is due time! I am six and ten; mother was married when she was five and ten— Helaena even sooner!” You reasoned, already feeling as if you were ready for such responsibility. 

Aemond let out a grievous breath at your words. “Is it not my duty as princess to marry? To bind our house with another to strengthen our name?” You asked your brother the teachings of your septa as to what your duty was embedded in your mind. “Your duty, my dearest sister, is to be here with your family, with me,” Aemond said, and you frowned. “Brother, even grandfather believes it is time for me to marry!” You insisted, “Whatever reservations he had years before had changed. Remember? He was the one who insisted for me to stay when the small council wanted to ship me off to Dorne so we could have them as allies?” Aemond clenched his fists, restarting himself to point any anger towards you. 

“Why this insistence on marriage? Tell me, sister, has any of the lords caught your attention for you to act as such?” Aemond questioned, words laced and dripping with jealousy. He watched as your cheeks bloomed with color and your eyes widened, fear and dread swirling in his heart as your bodily reactions were answer enough. “N-no.” You said; Aemond rolled his eye and shook his head at your lie. His mind already imagining the way he shall kill and hurt the one who had caught your attention. “There is no one, Aemond… Not yet, at least.” You said as you realized your brother did not believe your words. “I only wish to perform my duty,” You added quietly, your eyes widening in plea. 

“And you are performing it now. Your duty is to be here, to support and be with your family.” He reasoned, swaying your mind to let go of such matter. You huffed as you saw in Aemond’s eye that he would not discuss the matter as of now, stomping away from your brother with pouted lips and irritation at his stubbornness.

“He does not wish for me to be married! He would turn me into a spinster!” You grumbled as you did your needlework in your mother’s chambers, your grandsire and older sister present as well. Your mother sighed at your words, her gaze turning to her father, their suspicions made years before now manifested and now presenting themselves quite obviously. Your grandfather sighed and patted the back of your head, your hair that mirrored your mother’s cascading behind your back. “I shall see to it that your brother sees reason,” He said; you turned your gaze upwards in hope. “In the meantime… why not acquaint yourself with some of the sons of the lords here in court… just so when your brother finally agrees to your marriage, we are prepared, and you will know the true manner of your future intended.” Your grandsire advised, and you nodded your head in agreement.

“Are the matters for the day settled then?” Aemond asked grievously. Overly tired from having to sit in the room of the small council and tend to the matters of the realm. He was counting down the hours until he could escape the room and see you, who had always had a way to make him forget about his problems and exhaustion. “Not quite,” Otto spoke. “There is still the matter of marriage for the princess,” He added, and Aemond began to seethe in his seat. 

He watched as the men around the table leaned in closer to his grandfather, hanging on every word he uttered about your marriage. The lords zealous at the idea, Aemond would wager that they would be presenting their sons to you, the renowned beauty of the realm. “This matter can be discussed another time; my sister is not yet of age,” Aemond gritted out. “The princess is six and ten. She is of age. And she as well has made known her wish to be married, my prince,” Otto replied, averting his gaze from the fiery glare of his grandson. 

Aemond sat in his seat with great irritation as the matter of your marriage was discussed. Names of undeserving lords were thrown into the air and were being jotted down as future prospects for your hand that was already meant for another. Aemond sat stoically as the small council was dismissed, his body still wrapped in rage, and he feared if he moved, he would let it show and might just take a life with his bare hands. “The time has come, my prince. It is best to make your peace with it.” Otto spoke before exiting the room, looking towards his grandson, who had made his contempt on the matter quite obvious. 

After a long moment of calming himself down, Aemond finally stood and exited the room of the small council and found himself staying towards the tiltyard to train. However, the rage he tried to be rid of quickly returned as he saw you with a son of a lord. You leaning close towards the punny boy, a wide smile on your lips as you conversed with him. Ser Criston made hastened steps and stood before the prince, blocking his view of you who were acquainting herself with a son of a lord. “Ready to train, my prince?” The knight asked, hoping to distract Aemond as he, too, saw plainly the affection and fondness he had for you ever since childhood. A fondness that your mother and grandfather had tried hard to deny and keep tame. 

“I need a sparing partner,” Aemond gritted and unsheathed his sword, his eye clasped on the boy you kept chatting with. “Here I am,” The Knight said, his eye warily going towards you, who let out a laugh and moved to touch the arm of the lord before you, batting your lashes at him and presenting him with a smile from your pink lips. “My prince,” Ser Criston called, pushing upon Aemond, who stepped forward to charge toward the boy from house Lannister. “You cannot maim him,” Ser Criston reminded as he pushed the prince towards the other side of the tiltyard, Aemond’s lilac eye following you as you linked your arms with the young lord and sauntered off the tiltyard. 

“Aemond,” Ser Criston sighed, “She is your sister,” He reminded him of a fact that he knew all too well. “Exactly, she is my sister. And it is my duty to protect her from the dangers that come with undeserving men,” Aemond replied. “What danger? There is no danger at present, and I was here supervising her.” Aemond scoffed and walked off in search of you, but the knight followed him. “Supervision? Where was this supervision of yours when my sister was practically flushed against that lord? Flirting with him like a blushing whore,” Aemond spat and Ser Criston halted in his tracks as the bitter words left the prince’s lips. The knight’s brown eyes shifted between the prince and you, who stood by the hall and had heard the words spoken against you. 

You stared at your brother wide-eyed and brimming with tears as you heard the foul word he uttered against you. Aemond felt his heart pit as he realized that you had heard the untrue, bitter statement brought by jealousy that he had uttered. “Princess!” Ser Criston called as you ran through the halls once more, the knight looking back at the prince in disbelief for he had uttered such foul words. 

You ran to your mother for comfort, her readily taking you in her arm as you buried your tear-stained face in her neck. “Why, my child? What has happened?” The queen asked and ran her hands soothing through your hair that you had inherited from her. You did not speak and only continued to sniffle and let the tears pour out of your eyes. You hear the patter of hastened steps and the clink of armor, Ser Criston preventing your brother from entering your mother’s chambers where you sought comfort. “My love, what has happened?” Your mother asked once more, her gaze shifting between you and Ser Criston, who bared the room to prevent your brother from entering. 

You stayed quite still and let your mother assist you to a seat. You cast your gaze downward and continued to cry in silence, and your mother went to your family’s most trusted knight. “The prince saw as the princess was acquainting herself with one of the lords and… he had spoken offense.” Ser Criston whispered, his heart twisting as he watched you silently cry. “What offense?” The queen lowly questioned. “The prince, in his rage, had accidentally compared the princess’ likeness to a… whore,” Ser Criston’s hold on the hilt of his sword tightened as he heard you stifle a sob. 

“Oh my love, that is simply untrue. You know that it is untrue,” Your mother kneeled before you. You were always her most sensitive child; how could you not be when you were always showered with praises and sheltered from any cruelty of the world? Great lengths were taken to keep you innocent from the hardships of life, and though this matter of offense seemed small for others, it was not for you. Especially when you consider the fact at how much your brother frowned upon women who earned such titles, and for him to compare you to such— it was too much for your fragile self to bear. 

“Your brother was simply tired. He did not mean to say such words; he did not mean it.” Your mother said as she tried to comfort you. You were unconvinced; you recalled his words earlier and the animosity and irritation he had shown the past few days when you brought up your wish to be married. His reactions were not at all brought by tiredness. The day had come when your favored brother had started to resent you. Your tears only multiplied at the thought. 

“How could you say such a thing?” The queen hissed at her son, who stood idly outside her chambers. It was night, and your tears only ceased when sleep had overcome you. “I was overcome by rage,” Aemond reasoned, and his mother rolled her eyes. “But that does not mean you shall disparage your sister! What even is the reason for your rage? Why are you so against for her to know the lords that she shall marry?” The queen asked, and Aemond gritted his teeth. “You know why,” He whispered harshly, watching as the eyes of his mother widened with dread. “Aemond… we have discussed this,” The queen whispered. Pulling him into another room in her apartments and away from any prying ears. 

“No, you discussed this,” Aemond spoke more loudly, fiery rage returning in his veins. “She is your sister. I… I cannot have another pair of my children married and offend the gods further!” The queen said frantic. Aemond shook his head. “You have known how I feel for her for years now… you knew perfectly well. You let Aegon and Helaena marry, but when it is me, you dare deprive me of the only one I want?” Aemond asked, voice almost heavy with emotion, anger, and sadness, but his anger loomed greater. “We cannot go against the laws of gods and men once more,” Alicent sighed, but Aemond shook his head. “That is where we differ, Mother. She and I are born Targaryens. We are dragons who do not succumb to rules such as yours.” Aemond spoke lowly, Alicent feeling fear for her son’s decisions. 

“My brother is clinging to life as we speak; the stranger shall arrive and take him any moment now. And seeing his heirs were taken by war, his seat and crown shall pass to me. And when I am king, not even you or Otto or even the kingdom can hinder me anymore, Mother.” Aemond swore. “She is mine. She has always been meant to be mine.” Aemond proclaimed and marched out of the apartments of his mother. 

You stood teary-eyed before a burning pyre, your eldest brother succumbing to his sickness and injuries. You turned your head towards your mother, who had her head cast down as tears were shed for her firstborn. You then turned to Helaena, who stood straight in her spot, whatever sadness she had greatly covered or overpowered by her numbness. Aemond breathed out as you had not even looked at him since the day he mistakenly uttered such a foul word against you. 

“Sister,” Aemond tried to call you and take hold of your arm, but you stepped towards your mother, and she wrapped her arms around you in comfort. “I’ll escort them back to the castle,” Daeron spoke as he returned from Old Town after the events of the war and only returned to Kingslanding to aid his older brother, who now held the title of king. Aemond gave a nod and turned his longing gaze to you. The death of Aegon was nothing unexpected, but still, it was still a death that had undone the stitches of the wound the war had left. Aemond felt a pang in his heart as you did not run to him for comfort as the news came. All Aemond wanted to do was wrap his arms around your frame, to seek comfort with you, who had always been his greatest solace. 

But you kept your distance from your brother. The closeness that you two had since childhood started to drift apart as you heard his conversation with your mother the night he offended you. 

It was not you were that unaware of his fondness towards you, but you took his affection in the manner of a brother showing love to his sister and nothing more. But ever since hearing that confession that was not meant to be heard by you, you recalled yours and Aemond’s relationship. Now noting that perhaps the glances shared were not so innocent, the touches may have lingered and had hidden agendas. That the words spoken had innuendos in them, but you were just too oblivious and naive to notice. 

You sat solemnly in your chambers, staring at the fire as your fingers twirled your hair. The matters of your marriage paused as the kingdom was in mourning for your brother. You were brought out of your thoughts as you hear Aemond call your name, him standing by the door of your chambers. You stood in shock, moving to take your robe to cover yourself, who was only dressed in your shift. Your eyes widened as Aemond hindered you, pulling you flush against his body, wrapping his arms around your frame, and burying his head in your neck. 

“I’m sorry,” He uttered against your skin. “Please, sister, forgive me. I cannot bear for us to be like this, please, my fire.” He confessed and pleaded, holding tighter onto you as you stood idly, your arms not wrapping themselves around Aemond just like times before. “Aemond,” You sighed and tried to push him away, but your small action made the pang in his heart twist further. “What must I do for us to return to the way it was? My fire, please. Do you wish for new dresses? Jewels? What do you want, tell me, and it shall be yours,” Aemond pleaded, moving his face from the crook of your neck and standing straight, his cold, callous hands cupping your soft cheeks. You shook your head at your brother’s attempt at bribery. “Nothing. I— we cannot return to the way it was before,” You said quietly. Aemond frowned at your words; he knew what he had uttered against you was foul, but such a measly insult cannot result in him losing you.

You breathed out a grievous breath, trying to push him away once more, but he kept rooted at his spot. “I have heard what you had told Mother,” You said, watching as Aemond’s confusion morphed into realization. “And?” He asked, voice serious, the softness it harbored as he pleaded for your forgiveness gone. “And what? Aemond, you cannot be serious. You and I are brother and sister. We cannot—“ Your words were interrupted. “Aegon and Helaena were brothers and sisters as well. So were the conqueror and his wives. This is the tradition of our house. I love you— I burn for you in the way of the dragon.” He proclaimed, his face threading nearer to yours. You tried to push him away as your noses brushed, as his scent was starting to intoxicate your senses. “Aemond, please, we cannot— they will never approve of this. The gods w—“

“Fuck the gods!” Aemond screamed blasphemy, your eyes widening at his words and how his other hand placed itself on your waist. “I am king, and no one shall question and get in between me and what I want.” Aemond seethed. “That is not a king; that is a tyrant.” You said, growing in fear of your brother. An emotion you never thought you would feel when it came to him. “Call it what you want, my fire, but I shall still have you,” Aemond swore, and you resisted him as he captured your lips. “Aemond… no… please, do not do this, we cannot do this.” You breathed out as you managed enough strength to push him away. Your cheeks flushed and lips swollen by his kiss.

“Deny me as you will, sister, but I know you better than you know yourself. You are mine. You had always and will forever be mine.” Aemond uttered and pulled you against him once more, no matter your protests. “I regret that it must come to this, but you must learn who you belong to— I must pluck those thoughts of reservation out of your pretty little head, my fire,” Aemond murmured against your skin, nipping the flesh of your neck and leaving his mark, undeterred by your pushes, which he felt were half-hearted. He smirked as he pried out a sweet moan from your lips. 

“Your body betrays you, my fire. You can lie, refuse, and deny what you feel for me, but your body tells me the truth of it.” Aemond hummed, his fingers finding the hem of your shift, and started to hike it upwards. His calloused fingers brushed against your milky skin that he had never had the pleasure to touch before. 

You gasped as Aemond shifted his head toward your bosom. His eye gazed upwards as you watched his every move. You bit your lip as he took the string of your shift in his teeth and pulled at it, loosening the sheer cover you had on. Aemond hummed in contentment as you finally wrapped your arms around him once more, pulling him closer as his mouth enclosed your bosom, his tongue flicking the taut bud and resulting in a whimper escaping your lips. “Aemond… we… don’t,” You resisted further, your mind conjuring the reaction that will be caused by your damnable actions with your brother. 

“Do you truly mean that, sister? Do you truly wish for me to stop?” Aemond hummed, feeling you tremble as his hand caressed the soft skin of the inside of your thigh, his touch inching higher to your heat. Instead of an answer, you could only whimper as Aemond cupped your dripping heat, his answer given by your body. “Of course you don’t. Not when you’re dripping in want for me,” Aemond moved his slender fingers to rub your cunt, earning a moan from you, your sweet voice echoing through the room and he could only hope that it would reach down the halls in order for all to hear how you belonged to Aemond.

You whimpered as Aemond stole away his hand from pleasuring you. He pecked your lips, and you looked up at him through hooded eyes. “Do you wish for more?” Aemond asked, bringing his fingers that were slick with your essence to his lips, a groan slipping from his throat as he tasted you. You did not answer his question, “If you wish for more, my fire, just say it. Tell me you want more. Tell me that you are mine. Submit to me, sweet sister,” Aemond urged, “Be my wife… my queen, just as it ought to be,” Aemond insisted, leaning closer to you. He lifted your gaze that was planted on the floor, looking deeply into your eyes, and saw pure, unbridled want in them. 

Aemond sighed in contentment and smirked as you went to the tips of your toes and met your lips with his. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him to you. Aemond lifted you off your feet and made you wrap your legs around him as he led you both to your feathered bed, never parting your lips, kissing you like a man starved because he was. All he had ever wanted was you. It was plain to him that even in childhood, when he thought of love, all he thought about was you. When his eye was taken, he did not fear seeing the world impaired; he was frightened at the possibility of no longer seeing you. When the war had begun, he had not wanted the throne; all he wanted was for you to be safe and sound. When Daemon had lunged at him atop his dragon, when Aemond thought his life would be taken, his last thought was of you. It had always been and will always be you. 

When Aemond laid you down, he gazed at you with this overwhelming thought that all he ever wanted would be his. That you will finally be hit, that you shall be bound to him, a dragon tethered to another by fire and blood. “You’re mine,” Aemond stated as his fingers moved to fully remove your cover. “I—I am yours,” You stated, and Aemond felt an urge to weep in happiness. He took your lips into his once more, trailing his kisses downward, placing wet, open-mouth kisses upon your skin.

You whimpered as Aemond paused by your heat, uncertain what he shall do. An odd, almost animalistic sound left your lips as you feel his mouth upon your sex. “Aemond… wha—“ Your words faded as a moan took over your thoughts as Aemond flicked his tongue upon the pearl of your cunt. Greedily sucking and licking at you, devouring you to the point that the world began to be incoherent. You knew you were moaning, verbalizing the pleasure he gave, but you could not even hear the noises you let out, but Aemond did. He smirked against your cunt as his arms hooked at your thighs and his hands held yours, his ears ringing with your moans and the way you called out his name. 

A groan left your lips as Aemond inserted his finger in you; his heaving breathing reached your ears as he could not believe how you clenched upon the digit. 

Aemond marveled as he watched his finger disappear in and out of you, already impatient that it would soon be replaced by his cock, but he had to ready you first, he could not be so cruel to subject you to such pain just because of his wants. “Oh gods,” You moaned as your eyes rolled back, and a twisting in your core that was unfamiliar started to take you. “Aemond,” You called, apprehension in your tone as you did not know where this feeling let. You propped yourself by your elbows and gazed upon him through dazed eyes as he inserted another finger and his lips were latched upon your cunt. “Are you to come, my fire? Are you to come by my fingers and lips?” Aemond hummed and used his thumb to rub the swollen pearl. 

A whimper left your lips, and soon it was followed by your loud moans that were caused by your orgasm. Aemond held down your frame as you spasmed before him, your body shaking by the pleasure he had caused.  Aemond moved his frame atop yours, capturing your lips, and you sighed as you tasted your essence on his tongue. 

“You’re mine, sweet sis,” Aemond hummed as he aligned himself at your entrance. “I’m yours, brother… always yours,” You moaned as he glided the tip of his cock against your fold. Aemond groaned at your words, feeling he could come by just your words. Aemond’s breathing shortened as his cock penetrated you, he wiped and kissed the salty tears that spilled from your eyes as your maidenhead was taken. “Aemond… I— I can’t,” You cried as you could not bare the pain, “Just a bit more, my fire, and you’ll feel the pleasure that only I could give you,” Aemond hissed as you clenched around his length painfully but pleasurably so. 

It felt like an eternity before the pain subsided, and you started to let out small moans of pleasure. Aemond hurried his head in your neck and nipped at your skin, his thrusts slow and cautious as he was still measuring how much of him you could take. “More, Aemond… please, more,” You moaned quietly, and Aemond’s hand ventured to your folds and grew circled upon your pearl as his pace quickened and you clung to him, your nails scratching his shoulders, presenting him with stinging pleasure. 

“Oh… it’s good, it’s so good, Aemond,” You called and your king took one of your tit into his mouth, nipping at the bud of your ample bosom, feeling as you clenched tighter around him. “Are you to come again, my fire? Will you come for me again?” Aemond hummed as he watched your eyes roll back once more, and the words slipping from your lips grew incoherent. Aemond gave a long, deep thrust, and your legs wrapped around his waist as you came undone. Aemond soon followed and filled you with his seed as your name slipped his lips in a cry of pleasure. “You’re forever mine, my fire. My sister, my wife, my queen,” Aemond affirmed and kissed your lips once more as you started to slip into slumber brought by exhaustion. 

Aemond gazed down at you as he rested his bareback by the headboard of your feathered bed, and you slept soundly by his side, your body covered by a thin sheet, your breath fanning his skin. Aemond heard the faint knock of the door, and before he could deny entry to whoever dared to disturb your peace, your mother entered. He watched with satisfaction as her brown eyes widened in scandal as she realized what had transpired between you and Aemond. 

“Best not to cause a scene, Mother, my sweet sister needs her rest,” Aemond whispered as he ran his hand through your silky hair. A smirk rose to his lips as realization shone in his mother’s eyes that there was nothing that could be done anymore, by the eyes of the gods and man, you were Aemond’s, fully. The blood on your sheet and his seed in your cunt was enough evidence that you were his. Your mother could only leave the chambers, pale in shock as whatever actions she had made to take you from Aemond had failed. 

You stirred and hummed as you heard the door shut loudly, and Aemond was quick to hush and lull you back to sleep. “Go back to sleep, my fire,” Aemond whispered and soothingly ran his hand through your hair and he felt his lips twitch into a smile as you did as he said and went closer to him, draping your arm atop his body and pulling him closer to you. 

The day after next, when your soreness had faded, you rode atop Aemond’s dragon as he flew the both of you to Dragonstone, your own dragon following Vhagar as they both were present to you and Aemond’s union. A Valyrian wedding commenced on the shores with your dragons as witnesses. Aemond peered down at you with a beaming smile, leaning in to kiss your lips and taste the copper of your blood. “My wife, my queen,” Aemond murmured in sheer joy. “My husband, my king,” You whispered with a smile on your lips and kissed the man you will forever be bound to. A wedding that no man nor god could contest for the two of you were dragons who did not answer or bend to any other’s will.

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

So after the Infinite Realms revealed their exsistence (because the GIW were getting out of hand) the world government demanded that a part of the GZ settlers on earth for easy communication.

King Phantom agrees and the Realms gets a small previously unclaimed island. (The world doesn’t know that Phantok is half ghost half 16 yo. The royal family is Jazz and Dan and a mysterious Princess. Sam and Tucker are royal consorts.) the GIW are still active but considered terrorists.

King Phantom talks about a princess, who is in line for the throne after him (Jazz isn’t dead yet and Dan destroyed a timeline. So Dani is the only choice)

Dani, before all the AEA fiasco happened last, had been adoupted by the Waynes. They don’t know she’s ghost royalty. They think she doesn’t know about their vigilantism (Dani’s like 14)

One day, during a live event, the GIW bust in and tries to kidnap Dani. They somehow figured out that she’s princess and are trying to harm her in various ways.

Dani is a princess, so she has ghost bodyguards. The bodyguards take care of the Agents and Dani has to quickly explain things

I just think it would be real funny

This post is inspired by the post when Damian is a legal prince but I can’t find. If someone’s gives me the link I’ll link it :))

EDIT: The post has been found

[nalyniavadelletargaryen]

*Aegon putting the twins to sleep for once*

Jaehaera & Jaehaerys: Can we keep the candles lit, father?

Aegon II, tucking them in: And provide the monsters with a beacon to find you? Use your heads my little dragons.

Jaehaera & Jaehaerys, permanently terrified:….

Aegon II, internally: I am such a wonderful father!..

[kingzombear]

Princess "Steal Ur Bitch" Loolilalu CUCKS local jester [NOT CLICKBAIT]

another screenshot redraw lol

[thebubblesareevil]

Only the best Kings wear pink! Pt 2

Part 1 part 3

The day things changed was just like any other. The Keep was decked out with pink decorations and different activities though-out the castle, including but not limited to: tea in the garden, manicure stations, parent playgrounds (note spa), bowification stations, the glitter corner, the archery range, Queen Dorothea’s dragon tower…etc

Everything was ready for their monthly guests when, rather unexpectedly, he heard a knock at the door.

His guests had long forgone knocking (the parents could rarely get to the door before the children charged in). He managed to get to the door, waving off a busy maid carrying a delicious looking cake, where her was greeted by the teary eyed face of a young girl.

That in itself was odd, Danny made a point of no tears in the keep.

There was also the fact that she was very much alive.

Danny immediately kneeled in front of the little girl.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your tears, but are you here for the princess tea party?” He asked gently.

The little girl sniffled. “Tea party?”

Danny nodded. “All the little princesses of my Kingdom are invited.”

“But I’m not a princess.” She cried a bit more. Danny gave her a thoughtful hum.

“You certainly look like a princess to me.” Danny stated. “Are you lost little princess?”

She nodded, rubbing the tears from her eyes.

“Tell you what, why don’t you join us for our tea party and then I’ll personally escort you back to your castle, what do you say?”

The little girl sniffled, pondering for a moment before nodding.

“Wonderful!” Danny grinned. “And may I learn the name of the such an adorable princess?”

The little girl giggled “Lian! Lian Harper!”

“A lovely name for a lovely princess!” Danny grinned. “C’mon, I’m sure Lilac can get you your very own princess dress while we wait for the others.

——-

Lian fit in perfectly with the other children. Some of the parents seemed a bit skeptical, though they quickly accepted it after a brief explanation from the King.

Some parents went straight for the spa while others headed towards the suggestion room. (It really cut down on audiences when issues could be resolved with a letter)

All too soon the day ended and skulker reported to Danny with Lian’s home address.

Danny found her in the garden napping among the blossoms.

Danny smiled, gently nudging the girl awake.

“Lian? It’s time to go home now.”

“Hmmm?” Lian sluggishly raise her arms to be picked up by the King. Danny chuckled.

“Of course.” He gently picked, cradling her in his arms.

Silently he opened a portal into Lian’s bedroom carefully tucking her into bed.

Not even a moment after he vanished did a frantic babysitter rushed into the room, nearly sobbing in relief when she found the little girl.

(She was never playing hide and seek with the little ninja again)

——-

For the next few months the pattern continued. Though somehow no one ever seemed to notice when the girl vanished each month.

She had fully indoctrinated herself among the little ghosts of the tea party, every month the boys would challenge her to an archery bout and lose each time reluctantly conceding to getting the makeup done with each loss. (Edgar was quite fond of rainbow unicorn sparkle nails)

She was never late nor was she ever early (this led to many suspicions that Danny didn’t care enough to confirm). More than anything, after the 2nd time of her wandering into his Keep, Danny made a point of giving her a ghost whistle to call cujo if she ever got lost or needed him.

So he was understandably concerned when he was summoned by his (favorite) little princess by magic of all things.

He of course answered to summons (what if she was in dAnGeR???!?!?)

He stepped out of the portal at his full size, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling of the warehouse he found himself in.

Danny frowned, looking around he didn’t see Lian until he looked down at the crying little princess at his feet. Danny immediately shrunk down, completely ignoring the heroes fighting the cloaked (cultist? Fanatics? Victims of his wrath? That last one felt right) soon to be victims of his wrath.

Once he was at more manageable size he picked up Lian and swiftly removed her bindings.

“What’s wrong princess? If you wanted to see me all you needed to do was call.” He asked gently combing her hair with his claws, ignoring the red headed archer shouts.

“The mean men said they were gonna hurt Daddy and uncle Jay Jay, and all their friends!” She sniffled looking up at Danny giving him a clear view of the line of blood on her neck where his (very) soon to be victims nicked her.

“Shh, shh, don’t you worry princess. Why don’t you go hang out in the keep and help Spectre paint Banshees nail, hmm? I’m sure Fright would love it if you could braid his hair again too.” Lian pressed her wet face into Danny’s chest as she nodded.

He reached out, opening a small portal to gently place the little princess in his daughter’s room with a quick explanation.

He temporarily ignored the red heads screams and allowed the flurry of arrows and gunfire to pass through him.

He had other things to deal with right now.

“Now who do I have the pleasure of destroying today?”

One of the cloaked soon to be victims was clearly an imbecile as he stepped forward and began to shout.

“We offer you these two sacrifices in addition to the girl, that you might grant us the power to defeat our enemies, o mighty King of the Infinite Realms!”

Danny took a moment to count. “How strange, see I counted 15 victims and 2 spectators. You must need to get your glasses checked” Danny nodded to himself, allowing his for to stretch and his power to fill the room.

“But, I don’t have-“

Danny struck hard and fast. They would never see the light of day again.

After he was done disposing of the trash, he turned his attention to the heroes. Each of which had a weapon trained on his head, unfortunately human weapons didn’t work on him so they wouldn’t be much help.

“You son of a bitch! Give her back!!!” The red head shouted, his hands shaking.

“The rest of our team will be here any minute! Surrender now return the girl and we won’t have to fight you!” Helmet head shouted. Something felt off about that one, almost…familiar. Danny squinted and made a (probably stupid decision)

“Hmmm, nope” he snapped his fingers and two portals appeared underfoot of the two heroes.

[dark-moonlust]

Orc King x Elf Princess PART 1: The union

Pairing: Orc monster x elf princess reader

Summary: the elven and orc kingdoms are at odds and in a desperate attempt to keep the peace, the elder rulers decide to marry you, an elf princess to the King of the Orcs.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, virgin reader, dub consent, orc huge 🍆, buckets of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

Find PART 2 here.

I hope you like how juicy it came out *wink, wink*.

It was no secret that the elven and orc kingdoms were at odds for centuries.

But lately, the shimmering tension was at its worst, the two races threatening to start a war.

In a desperate attempt to keep the peace, the two elder rulers of both lands decided on a political marriage to unite their kingdoms.

You, the only princess of the elves was chosen by your father to be the bride of the King of the Orcs.

The decision had stunned you, made you want to flee from the palace and seek a life away from politics. But no matter how much you craved to be free, no matter your dread and repulsion at the match, you decided to marry the orc King. You had your people to protect and as their princess you had a great burden to bear. You were willing to sacrifice your happiness for the greater good.

The day you met your orc husband would be forever seared in your mind. You met him at the wedding ceremony, he stood proudly in the grand hall, an imposing figure dressed in leather armor and a long black cape. A towering, brutish form. The Orc King was terrifyingly big, two heads taller than you. He was muscular all over, his green skin marred with scars and his mouth twisted into a sneer, revealing sharp teeth.

The wedding ceremony was grand, filled with cheers and hopes for the future for both kingdoms.

A chill of fear ran through you when the time came to bed your husband and seal the union. As you looked up at him, you met his eyes, dark and predatory. He grabbed your arm, his grip ironclad, lifted you over his shoulder and carried you to the royal chambers. You protested but he ignored your wild thrashing, and before you could gather yourself, he plopped you down the bed, his massive body pinning you in place.

His hands, huge and calloused from years of battle, roamed over your delicate body. “Pretty wife.”

“Hn… wait—I do not want this,” you said, trying to push him away, even if your strength was nothing compared to his.

“I understand this is a fate you dislike, but it is one you can’t escape.”

You grimaced at him. “You brutish orc. At least give me some time—”

“To escape?” he filled your sentence, his face hard.

“Never, I’d never risk the safety of my people.”

“Then stay here. In my bed. Be mine,” he growled, his voice deep and menacing. “My Queen to fuck and use over and over.”

“I’m not a piece of meat—mph!”

His mouth claimed yours, his tongue pushing past your parted lips, thrusting deep in your throat. You groaned when huge hands cupped your neck, keeping you in place to take his feral kiss. Your eyes started to roll back, chest heaving, gagging a little on the appendage long appendage shoved down your throat.

At the same time, you felt him tearing at your clothes. The satin fabric of your wedding dress was ripped and tossed away, your underwear following until you were fully exposed to him. You shivered and gasped when his tongue finally left your mouth. His eyes devoured your naked form and you felt goosebumps awakening under his gaze.

He was also naked, you noticed, the contrast between your bodies striking. You were small and soft, and he was hulking and muscled, his massive frame filled with scars. His green skin glistened in the dimly lit room, his eyes locked onto yours with a raw hunger that made your breath hitch. And between his legs… you closed your eyes. You didn’t want this thing inside you.

“Such pretty breasts,” he said roughly, his hands cupping both breasts and jutting them up in his mouth. He captured one pert nipple in the warmth of mouth and flicked it hard. You gasped, pushing him away but he turned to the other bud, giving it the same attention. The unwanted pleasure was too much, you hated him, oh you hated him, but his touch sent jolts of goosebumps through your body.

“Gentle…hmnn,” you bit your lip, struggling to stifle your reactions. “Be gentle.”

“If I’m be gentle, will you let me fuck you, my bride?”

“Hmmm…” you muttered, your treacherous pussy pooling with heat.

“Say it,” he said, finding your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. “Say that you want me to fuck you.”

You grumbled. “Just do it.”

“Say it.” He looked at you straight in the eye.

“Fine! I want you to f-f-uck me,” you muttered incredulously.

Satisfied, he moved his massive hands down your body, clutched your knees and spread them apart. He slipped between them, his eyes drawn to your creamy thighs and the pretty glistening pussy with the plump folds. Rough fingers trailed over your mound and you whimpered, fear and arousal clouding your thoughts. He found your entrance, it was pooling with slick and he thrust a thick finger inside. The wet squelch echoed in your ears as that wicked finger delved deep inside until it met with resistance.

“Hnn—”

“Tight little cunny,” he said in a sultry voice, “my bride is a virgin. I am honored.”

With surprising gentleness, he changed your positions and flipped you to ride him, your face level with his groin. His cock jutted up in front of your face, a monstrous green shaft with veins traveling from base to the flared tip. The thing was huge, throbbing and pulsing with pre-cum and under it were the biggest balls you’d ever seen, swollen and angry red.

“Touch,” he ordered, thrusting his hips against your mouth.

Strangely attracted to his cock, you guided fingers to him, tracing the massive length of him. He was impossibly hard yet soft, thick and heavy in your hand. You cupped his hardness but your small hands couldn’t wrap entirely around him. But your orc husband seemed to like it because he let out a low, approving growl.

“Good. Now put me in your warm mouth. Use your little hands for what you can’t fit.”

You glanced back at him, enraged at his request. How dare he! His eyes flashed with challenge and cupping your nape, he turned your head and slammed you down onto his shaft. The throbbing head pushed past your lips, stretching them wide. You let out a sharp hiss and gurgled when the tip kissed the back of your throat.

“Suck me good, wife. I want my dick to glisten with your spit,” he said while he gripped your hips, pulling your cunt to his eager mouth. You protested but he jerked up his hips again, forcing you to take his cock deeper. You gagged, your lips stretched and filled with massive orc cock.

Gluck, gluck, gluck… the sounds of you sucking him echoed all over the chamber, along with his vibrating growls of approval. He taught you how to please him, pulling your head back enough for you to breathe before swallowing his dick down again, his thick shaft molding in your throat. Amidst slurps and moans around his dick, he cupped your ass and spread your cheeks apart.

How thumbs drew your pussy folds apart, exposing your little slit. “Pretty pussy.”

“Hmph—ple… glglhh… ease,” you tried to talk but his cock made it difficult.

“You are mine,” he said, lightly slapping your pussy. “My wife, my Queen, my mate to fuck and please. And I am yours. Your husband, your King, your mate to fuck and please.”

His words empowered you, made you worship his dick anew. He, in turn, feasted on your cunt, teasing your dripping folds with his mouth. You were more aroused than ever and he easily slid a finger inside you, stretching your walls and curling it just right. You whimpered around the girth of his orc cock. He added a second finger, a rough groan escaping him when he saw your cunt clenching tightly around it. His mouth found your clit, his agile tongue swirling round and round.

The sensations were too much that forced you to leave his cock and let out a hoarse cry.

You came, thrashing violently.

Clutching his hard cock with both hands, your fingers wrapping around it like a lifeline, you rocked your hips against his face and came wildly, explosively. But he didn’t stop. He kept going, his fingers thrusting deeper, his mouth working your clit shamelessly. Slurps and growls filled your ears as he devoured your pussy, lapping up your juices as if they were ambrosia.

Then the world around you tilted on its axis and you found yourself in his powerful arms. He held you against his chest, your legs spread on either side of his thighs. His panting chest rubbed against your breasts, his cock wet with your saliva and pulsing against your bellybutton.

“And now, Queen of mine, you shall take your King’s cock.”

Carefully, very carefully, he lifted you and lowered you down onto his cock, the flared head spreading your pussy lips and surging up your virgin entrance. You winched a little as he filled you, inch by delectable inch and you clutched him tighter against you, your breath hitching when he bottomed out.

He was inside you, his cock balls deep and it even made your stomach bulge. He seems fascinated at the sight of it.

No longer a virgin.

“Beautiful. My beautiful Queen,” he purred, kissing you passionately. “Made to take orc dick.“

“Mmph… m-more, please, ahhhh…"

Hands on your waist, he lifted you off his cock, his length coming out glistening with your juices and a trace of virgin blood. He growled, deeply and primitively and then thrust you down, his shaft disappearing inside you. He pounded you to the edge of ecstasy and you came hard around him, sweet climax rolling through you. Your contractions triggered his own release, and with a defeating roar, he spurted inside you, his cock pulsing so strongly that you came again with frantic aftershocks. Thick streams of cum filled you up, overflowing and trickling down your shaking thighs and making a mess.

You collapsed on his broad chest, feeling his solid warmth and inhaling his masculine scent. Your husband rubbed your spine, kissed your forehead and whispered praises about how good you were to him and how proud he was to have you as his Queen. You felt a glimmer of hope, but you were too tired to ponder over it so with a soft smile you fell asleep in his embrace.

Did you enjoy? Hit me up with your thoughts! Inbox is also open 🖤

[obsessedwithstarwars]

Phantom: You know you could’ve used your authority as Queen Regent of the Infinite Realms to stop him, right?

Red Hood: She could what? You’re a what??

Jazz: I was told to only use those powers in an emergency.

Red Hood: You didn’t think being kidnapped by a fucking robot ghost hunter out to skin us alive and hang our pelts as trophies on his wall constituted as an emergency?!

Jazz: No, that happens like every other Tuesday for Phantom here.

Phantom: …

Phantom: I was going to argue but yeah, that tracks.

Red Hood: un-fucking-believable.

[lightningbreath]

"I think I have decided on a name for my little princess"

"She shall be named 'Zelda'"

"Huh?"

"After me?!"

"Of course"

https://twitter.com/senzo6700/status/1663182852324982784?t=oTx1AQHrchncoA8nJidKew&s=19

[bluerosefox]

Invites

"OMA, kill meeeee" Ellie, aka Wrath complained as she allowed her head to 'thunk' on the cafeteria table in the Watchtower she phased into in order to sit in next to a boy dressed in red, yellow, and green.

"Aren't you already halfway there?" Came Robin's response as he took a drink of his water, eyeing his teammate with a raised eyebrow, though it was difficult to tell with his mask in place.

"OMA?" Asked Superboy on the other side of the boy.

"Shush you." She said towards Robin before answering Superboy "Oh my Ancients, it's like OMG but like for us ghosties."

"Tt" "Oh!" Came both their responses.

"So..." began Superboy after a few minutes of silence between them as he looked at Ellie like a confused puppy "Why?"

Ellie groaned and just stayed slumped on the table as she said "Da's dumb Observants council is hosting another dumb ball to try to get him or me hitched again, and like always I'm forced to attend because I'm Da's heir. We both hate it with a passion, most are just stuck up, power hungry, social climbers trying to get into our pants for the royal titles... Espcially if they become our Forevermores."

"Tt, why not just get rid of them? Or simply have your Father dismiss the ball." Robin said, his eye twitching in annoyance just at the thought of it. A ball sounded even more annoying than the gala parties he is made to go to.

"Sounds stressful... Also Forevermores?" Superboy asked, he was always curious of Ellie and her ghost culture but never knew what could be asked or not, he had been warned to never ask how a ghost died after all and that question is normally asked in every ghost hunter video on the internet.

"Forevermores is our term for the ONE. The one and only we will ever be with. Till our final end takes us we are always to be with them only. We are core creatures and bonding on that level is like sacred, we don't rush into bonding like that though. But everyone in the Realms hopes to be either become mine or Da's. And the ball is their best chance at meeting us on neutral grounds." Ellie explained as best as she could for Jon, it was hard trying to explain the type of level a Forevermore was "And to answer you Robin, Da can't. The Observants, despite how annoying they can get with their dumb demands, are part of the system council for the Realms, they're sadly needed to keep things in check hence their name. Da and his friends are still trying to find a loophole to get rid of them though. They were only created when they put Tyrant King to sleep and they still sadly have some backings from other powerful ghosts in the Realms, even an Ancient or two and in order to fully dismiss them we need all Ancients on board. And the ball keeps a lot of ghosts, especially the more powerful ones, errr I guess happy? Most just use it to gossip on neutral grounds, others just like to dance, network, or other junk like that. Basically, when it's not about them trying to get mine or Da's hand in ghost marriage, it's fun so Da can't dismiss it, it'll ruffle to many feathers."

"Wow..." "Tt." Were the response from her teammates.

"Yeah. Da really isn't happy because someone suggested inviting powerful people from a few Mortal Realms this time. Somehow it got approved. So... here." She said as she reached into her own chest, phasing her hand in, and pulled out two green envelopes and placed them on the table in front of them. Both boys stared in surprise to see their names written in dark purple ink and the stylized DP on it.

"CW let me invite you guys personally. Everyone else should be getting theirs in about a few minutes complete with a blaze of green fire and spooky vibes." Ellie said with a strained smile, both happy to invite them but also dreading the questions she'll no doubt have to answer once the invites were sent.

[slavicdelight]

The High Tower and the Dragon's Heir

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x male!Targ!reader

Summary: Lady Alicent Hightower was the closest friend of Princess Rhaenyra, yet she couldn't help but fall for her older brother, Y/N.

Warnings: none, following canon divergence

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Alicent Hightower gracefully strolled the corridors of the illustrious Red Keep, her morning lessons with her inseparable companion, Princess Rhaenyra, having just concluded. The echoes of footsteps accompanied her every stride as she made her way towards the luncheon appointment with her father, Ser Otto Hightower, the King's Hand. The castle bursted with vibrant activity—servants hurriedly carried out their duties, knights stood in vigilant postures, and nobles engaged in animated conversations, exchanging the latest court gossip.

As she ascended a majestic staircase, the voice of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Westerling, reached her ears. With a soft smile, Alicent reciprocated the courteous greeting. The anticipation of her father's chambers lingered in the air as she approached, each step echoing with the weight of her familial responsibilities.

However, the routine of her morning took an unexpected turn when, just before she reached the sanctum of her father, a sudden force collided with her, threatening to send her sprawling. A gasp escaped her lips, but before the cold stone floor could meet her, strong and reassuring hands prevented her from falling. These hands belonged to none other than Y/N Targaryen, the eldest son of the reigning monarch, King Viserys.

In that fleeting moment of unexpected encounter, the bustling ambiance of the Red Keep faded into the background. Alicent found herself lost in his gaze. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, and as Y/N steadied her with an effortless strength, Alicent's heart quickened, realizing that even in the most predictable corridors, destiny had an uncanny way of intertwining lives in an unexpected matter.

"Oh my, Lady Alicent. I'm so sorry; I didn't notice you," the young Prince expressed with a charming smile, nearly as enchanting as the prince himself. His gaze held a hypnotic quality that left Alicent momentarily flustered. Deep down, she possessed an immense fondness for him, but the fear of rejection and the potential repercussions from his younger sister stopped her from ever expressing them.

"No, my Prince. It was I who should've been more careful," Alicent nervously replied, her voice betraying a subtle hint of admiration. The unspoken tension between them lingered in the air. Her father's disapproval of the prince added a layer of complexity to the situation. Otto Hightower believed him to be the same as his uncle, Prince Daemon, hence the mutual hostility.

"Were you heading to your father, perhaps?" the prince inquired, his curiosity evident. Alicent hesitated, aware of the strained relationship between her father, Ser Otto Hightower, and the prince. Otto's opinions about Y/N's fitness for becoming king often clashed with the prince's aspirations.

"Yes, my prince," Alicent replied cautiously, choosing her words with care. The prince graciously took a step back, allowing her to continue her journey towards her father's chambers.

"Then do not let me stop you," he said with a small, understanding smile, his gaze lingering for a moment before gracefully descending the stairs, resuming his own path through the corridors of the Red Keep. That brief encounter, had left Lady Alicent soft in her knees.

Entering the Hand's chambers, Alicent immediately noticed her father seated at the table, a large variety of dishes laid out. She greeted him respectfully and took her place on the opposite side. "Alicent," he acknowledged with a nod, his eyes shining with a mix of sternness and affection. "How was your morning?" he inquired, motioning her to being eating.

"It was fine. I studied with the Princess the whole morning after breaking fast with her and Queen Aemma," Alicent replied, offering a light summary of her activities. The mention of encountering Prince Y/N on her way to her father's chambers prompted a subtle change in his demeanor. His brow lifted, and a stern look accompanied his response. "Prince Y/N is not a good influence. I advise you to avoid him," he coldly said, his voice carrying a weight of disapproval as Alicent cast her gaze downward. "Very well, father," she agreed, and the remainder of their lunch unfolded in a heavy silence.

As Alicent's thoughts drifted back to the violet-eyed prince, she couldn't comprehend her father's disdain for him. In her eyes, he was gallant and the epitome of a perfect prince. The unspoken tension between father and daughter lingered, leaving Alicent with a sense of conflict between her loyalty to her father and a growing curiosity about Y/N.

A fortnight later, the joyous occasion of a tournament took place in order to celebrate the King's anticipated new heir gripped the Red Keep. Nobles from far and wide were invited, marking the event as a grand affair. Queen Aemma, began her labours early in the morning, enduring the suffering alone, as King Viserys presided over the jousting festivities. Prince Daemon, displaying exceptional skills, unseated Alicent's brother Gwayne from his horse.

Victorious, the Prince then diverted his attention towards the stands where Alicent sat. With a charming smile, he asked for her favor, stating, "Lady Alicent, I'm sure your favor would ensure my victory today." Casting a fleeting glance at her father, Alicent handed Daemon her favor. Unbeknownst to her, a certain prince of the crown observed the exchange with a glare and a clenched jaw.

The joy of the tournament swiftly gave way to a somber hush when a messenger arrived bearing the tragic news of Queen Aemma's death. The atmosphere within the Red Keep became grim, mournful mood reigned for weeks. The funeral, held on a distant hill, marked a solemn occasion where the lifeless forms of the Queen and the young Prince lay upon the pyre, awaiting the embrace of dragonfire from Syrax and Shadowspine, the loyal companions of the Queen's surviving children.

Following the ceremony, Alicent found herself once again in her father's chambers, the weight of grief hanging heavily in the air. "How is Rhaenyra?" her father inquired, slight concern etched across his face. Alicent, her fingers idly picking at her fingers, replied, "She just lost her mother." The sorrow that lingered in her words mirrored the collective grief that shrouded the entire Keep.

Not being one to hide his ambitions, her father suggested, "Perhaps you would like to offer the King some comfort. Losing a wife is a terrible thing. He would surely rejoice in a visit." Alicent reluctantly agreed to undertake this solemn task, driven by her desire to please her father. As she turned to leave, she overheard her father's additional instruction, his voice low and laden with subtle implication—indicating that she should dress herself in one of her late mother's gowns.

Rather than heading to the King's chambers as initially intended, Alicent found herself standing before the doors that guarded Prince Y/N's residence. A guard announced her presence, and she entered, greeted by a scene of disarray. The room resembled the aftermath of a storm—furniture upended, decorations scattered in chaotic way. Amidst the disorder, she discovered her prince, seated on the floor, his back against the bed stand, his once-silky hair now tangled, and his eyes holding a haunted look. The scent of alcohol lingered in the air.

Taking a seat beside the prince, Alicent met his gaze, prompting him to question her presence with a strained voice, revealing the results of earlier screams. "I came here to see how you're holding up, my Prince," she replied calmly, her eyes scanning the wreckage around them. He only scoffed in response.

Drawing on her own experiences, Alicent shared, "When my own mother died, people looked at me with pity. I didn't want it. All I wanted was to hear they were sorry." Her empathetic words hung in the air, and she continued, "I'm so sorry for your loss, my Prince," concluding her condolences with a soft look, her eyes reflecting genuine compassion. Y/N stared at her in silence, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, as he began to unveil the weight of his heartache.

"My father's quest for a second son is to blame for this tragedy. He never considered me worthy of the throne," he confessed, his voice full of bitterness and sorrow. "He wished for another son, a better son. One he could put on the throne after himself. I was never enough. Rhaenyra wasn't enough. He killed my mother for a new heir. And now, my brother is also dead," he uttered.

Alicent's heart ached for him, the immensity of his suffering echoing through the confessions. Despite already bearing the responsibilities of being the Heir, this added layer of tragedy made the burden almost unbearable. In her earnest attempt to offer solace, she stood by both Y/N and Princess Rhaenyra, a pillar of support during these dark times.

As Y/N was officially declared Heir before the realm, Alicent stood steadfastly by his side, witnessing the unfolding of destiny. She remained present during the uncomfortable prospect of their father's remarriage, understanding the siblings hesitation. The more time they spent together, the threads of friendship between Alicent and Y/N began to intertwine with the delicate threads of love.

When the time came for the Prince to choose a wife, he declared his intent to marry Lady Alicent, much to Rhaenyra's dismay. While Viserys rejoiced in the prospect, Otto, though reluctantly, agreed to the union. Though not a fervent supporter of the Prince, Otto recognized the strategic significance—marrying his daughter to the future king ensured the placement of his bloodline on the throne.

The union of Alicent and Y/N was immortalized in what became known as the White Wedding. It was a testament to the pure and evident love that bound the newlyweds. The ceremony resonated with the harmonious union of two souls, their vows exchanged amidst the sacred walls of the Sept.

Shorty after their nuptials, the arrival of Aegon Targaryen marked a new chapter in the royal family. The beautiful boy, with the coloring of his father and the distinctive facial structure of his mother, embodied the perfect mix of the royal couple. Aegon, the newest Prince, became a living testament to the love that flourished within the Targaryen lineage.

As Alicent carried the weight of their second child, King Viserys sought to hold a celebratory hunt on his grandson Aegon's second name day. The relationships within the Targaryen family began to mend, albeit slowly, and the noticeable favoritism towards Rhaenyra, perhaps due to her resemblance to her late mother, didn't escape Y/N's notice. Despite the slight discomfort, he chose to focus on his growing family, diverting his attention away from the nuances of favoritism and concentrating on the joyous moments that bound them together.

The grand hunt orchestrated by King Viserys brought a sense of delight to Otto Hightower, who relished the opportunity for both entertainment and strategic alliances. The men, engaged in the pursuit of a White Hart—a symbolic creature representing royalty—set out with purpose, leaving the women to find solace within the safety of the camp.

As Alicent sat beside her husband, Y/N, who held their young son Aegon in his lap, an unexpected intrusion disrupted the peace inside the tent. Rhaenyra, the spirited Princess, burst in with determination, her grievances clear. Viserys, in his pursuit to secure her a suitable match, had orchestrated a connection with Jason Lannister, much to Rhaenyra's vocal displeasure. The fiery Princess asserted her autonomy, rejecting the notion of being treated as a prize to be sold to the highest bidder.

The repercussions of this confrontation left Alicent aware of the strain in her once-unbreakable bond with Rhaenyra. The princess, fueled by a desire to ascend to the throne, resented the twist of fate that seemingly diverted Y/N's affections toward Alicent, who had become the new Princess consort.

In the next years, Rhaenyra's fate took a turn as she was forced into a marriage with her cousin, Ser Laenor Velaryon, because of previous liaison with her uncle Daemon in a pleasure house that added further complexity to the situation. The marriage, arranged against her will, led to the birth of bastards, whom she attempted to pass as legitimate—a move not lost on the eyes of the court.

Despite Viserys's blindness, the court recognized the discrepancy in the children's Valyrian features. Whispers spread, hinting at a connection with Ser Harwing Strong, the Commander of the Gold Cloaks, who served closely under the Princess.

These choices made by Rhaenyra made Alicent bitter. The apparent disregard for duty exhibited by Rhaenyra, coupled with the ability to evade consequences, fueled Alicent's resentment. Yet, in the face of this, the legitimacy of the children born to Y/N and Alicent remained unquestionable. The unmistakable resemblance of each child to their father nullified any potential doubts that might have arisen.

As their children matured, distinct personalities emerged, painting a portrait of the Targaryen legacy. Aegon, the mischievous firstborn, delighted in playing pranks and causing mayhem within the castle. Despite occasional mischief, his loyalty to the family prevailed, a testament to the intricate balance of his character.

Helaena, their only daughter, embodied sweetness and warmth. Though closed off to many, she harbored a great heart, often murmuring riddles that, while dismissed by most, held significance to her parents who recognized her as a dreamer with visions of her own.

Aemond, a mirror image of his father, shared not only physical similarities but also akin personalities. The only distinction lay in Aemond's shyness. His passion for history forged a special bond with King Viserys, who favored the small Prince. Their shared love for learning brought them together in frequent discussions about the boy's recent discoveries.

The youngest, Daeron, charmed all who crossed his path, earning the title of the most popular son among their subjects. His charm and charisma propelled him to Oldtown, serving his mother's uncle as a cupbearer and squire.

Amidst the dynamic growth of their children, Y/N and Alicent's love stood resilient. Any hopes Rhaenyra harbored of a falling out between the couple were in vain; their bond, an indestructible force, continued to strengthen.

The visible strain within the ruling family had spilled beyond the walls of the Red Keep, earning them the titles of "blacks" and "reds" among the common folk and nobility alike. Y/N, recognizing the fractures within his family, attempted reconciliation with his younger sister, but Rhaenyra remained consumed by anger towards him for marrying another and harbored resentment for Alicent, his wife for being said woman. The rift seemed irreparable.

Despite the familial tensions, Y/N maintained a close involvement in the training of his sons, personally overseeing their progress with the assistance of Ser Criston Cole, who had shifted his allegiance from Rhaenyra to the royal family. Aegon and Aemond exhibited remarkable progress, overshadowing their cousins.

During a training session, as Ser Criston instructed the young princes, Y/N was reluctantly pulled away by the demands of his duties as the Heir. King Viserys, observing from the terrace, keenly followed the lesson. The knight, calling upon Aegon, challenged him to a sparring match and taunted, "Let's see if you can touch me. You and your brother." The confident Prince, Aegon, responded with a cocky assurance, "I've won my first bound, Ser Criston. My opponent sues for mercy."

Undeterred, Ser Criston introduced a new challenge, pitting both Aegon and Aemond against him. The two princes advanced, swords in hand, but the seasoned knight skillfully blocked each of their attacks, showcasing his experience and expertise. The training ground became a battleground of skills, the clash of steel echoing the intricate dynamics of power, loyalty, and the indomitable spirit of the Targaryen lineage.

The training ground, alive with the clang of swords and the shuffling of feet, fell into a momentary silence as Ser Harwin approached, offering instructions to the brown-haired princes. His voice redirected Ser Criston's attention toward the younger boys. "It seems like the younger boys could use your attention, Ser," Harwin remarked as he walked closer. A subtle tension hung in the air as Criston questioned, "Are you questioning my method of instruction?"

In response, Criston motioned for Aegon to face Jaecerys, declaring it an "eldest son against eldest son" spar. The white-haired Prince's age and strength became evident as he overpowered the younger Jaecerys. However, as Aegon advanced, he found himself roughly seized by the shoulder and pulled away by Ser Harwin. Aegon, outraged by the intervention, protested loudly, resulting in a reprimand from the King.

Tensions flared further when Criston began questioning the Commander of the Gold Cloaks's interest in the princes' training, suggesting affections that a man might harbor for his children. The insinuation proved too much for Ser Harwin, who snapped and attacked Criston. The incident led to Ser Harwin's banishment from King's Landing, and a few days later, he perished within the walls of Harrenhal along with his father.

More sorrowful news followed swiftly. A raven brought the grim information of Lady Laena Velaryon's death, casting a pall over King's Landing. The weight of Laena's death cast a somber shadow over Y/N, who had considered her another sister growing up. The entire family traveled to Driftmark to pay their respects, attending a funeral marred by Lord Vaemond's continuous accusations directed at Princess Rhaenyra and her bastard sons. Prince Daemon's laughter, strategically employed to deflect attention, added a layer of tension to the already heart-wrenching day.

Once the children retired for the night, Alicent found a moment to speak with her husband. In the quiet confines of their chamber, she gently inquired, "Are you alright, my love?" Y/N, standing by a window overlooking the view of Driftmark, confessed, "She was one of my closest friends, and she died alone. Without her family or friends, because Daemon denied her return. She didn't deserve such a fate."

Alicent, though not as intimately acquainted with Lady Laena, offered words of solace, acknowledging her bravery and kindness. Y/N, appreciating his wife's comforting presence, sighed and turned to look at her. "I'm sure you're right, darling," he said, caressing her face. In that moment, they found solace in each other's embrace, a comforting respite from the sorrow that permeated their hearts.

With a shared understanding, Y/N guided Alicent to bed, where they surrendered to the embrace of sleep, seeking refuge from the weariness that accompanied the emotional journey. Their intertwined forms, nestled in peaceful repose, reflected the enduring strength of their bond in the face of life's inevitable trials.

The tranquility that enveloped Y/N and Alicent was shattered abruptly when a maid, panic-stricken, banged on their door, delivering news of a grave accident involving their son. Swiftly dressing into presentable robes, they rushed towards the hall where their children were present. The sight that awaited them was horrifying—Aemond, their beloved son, was a bloody mess, missing an eye. Alicent's anguished scream pierced the air as she ran towards her injured child.

Demanding answers, Y/N interrogated the Knights, learning that the Prince had been mauled in a brawl with his cousins. The King, arriving on the scene, angrily questioned the guards for allowing such an incident. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys soon joined, but Y/N's attention shifted to the absence of Princess Rhaenyra. When she finally appeared, followed by Prince Daemon, their disheveled appearance hinted at a liaison that further fueled Y/N's anger. How could they disrespect Lady Laena's memory like this?

Amid the chaos, Rhaenyra declared the incident a "regrettable accident," but Alicent argued it was a planned attack. Rhaenyra defended her sons, claiming they were being attacked with vile insults against their legitimacy "Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned on where he heard such slanders". Y/N's anger flared; his sister intended to torture his gravely wounded son over a truth that was evident.

Rhaenyra's attempt to extract information from Prince Aemond, who had heard the alleged slanders, only heightened tensions. Y/N, protective of his son, forbade any harm to befell Aemond. As the King sought apologies and forgiveness, Alicent snapped, demanding justice and ordering the eye of Lucerys Velaryon to conduct it. Chaos ensued as Alicent, fueled by rage, advanced towards Rhaenyra with a knife. Y/N noticed his uncle making way to two women to undoubtedly aid Rhaenyra, which he couldn't let happen and stopped him before Daemon could reach her.

The struggle between Alicent and Rhaenyra unfolded, the room becoming a battleground of emotions and grievances. In the midst of the chaos, Aemond, now with one eye, offered comfort to his mother, stating "Don't mourn me mother. I might've lost an eye but I gained a dragon". Y/N joined the embrace, and as his father declared the matter over, the fractured family clung to the remnants of peace amidst the aftermath of pain and turmoil.

As the years unfolded, the Targaryen family found solace and unity in each other's company. Every meal became a cherished time for discussion, laughter, and shared moments, further strengthening the familial bonds that had weathered storms and emerged resilient.

Aegon and Helaena's marriage flourished, blessed with their two beautiful children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Aegon transformed into a caring and attentive husband, shedding his earlier tendencies to become the perfect Prince fit to one day ascend the throne. Aemond, despite the challenges posed by his limited vision, emerged as a formidable warrior under his father's tutelage. Determined not to be hindered by his condition, he trained with unparalleled dedication, surpassing many in skill and prowess.

Y/N and Alicent, beaming with pride, reveled in the achievements of their children. However, their joy was tempered by the somber responsibility that befell them. With King Viserys succumbing to sickness, he lay bedridden, casting a long shadow over the realm. The inevitable reality loomed—the time was approaching when a new monarch would ascend the throne.

Amidst the bittersweet echoes of Viserys's declining health, the Targaryen family stood united, ready to face the challenges that awaited them. The transition of power loomed on the horizon, and the legacy of House Targaryen stood at the threshold of a new chapter in the annals of Westeros.

The arrival of a raven bearing Ser Vaemond Velaryon's challenging petition for the Driftwood Throne thrust the Red Keep into a state of heightened anxiety. The assertion that Rhaenyra, Daemon, and their children would return to the heart of the realm brought a cloud of unease over the castle, especially given the recent mysterious death of Laenor Velaryon.

In the midst of the commotion, Alicent navigated through the corridors toward the King's chamber, where she knew Rhaenyra and Daemon would be discussing the pressing matter of King Viserys's condition. Upon entering, she greeted them with courtesy, acknowledging the lapse of time since their last encounter. Daemon responded with a nonchalant hum, while Rhaenyra inquired about the authority overseeing the trial of her son.

A new voice cut through the tension as Y/N entered, a smirk playing on his lips. He revealed himself as the authority presiding over the trial, promising a fair judgment even as he acknowledged the accusations thrown at his wife. The room held its breath, and Alicent, standing beside her husband, added, "We have pressing matters to attend to, but please, make yourself at home." With that, the married couple walked away, leaving the guests to navigate the looming trial and the shadows of familial discord that cast their pall over the Red Keep.

The throne room buzzed with tension as the petitions unfolded, each speaker presenting their case before Y/N, who sat on the throne in his father's stead. The weight of judgment rested heavily on his shoulders. Lord Vaemond Velaryon was the first to address the court, delivering a lengthy discourse on bloodlines and the survival of House Velaryon.

However, the proceedings took an unexpected turn when, during Rhaenyra's turn to present her defense, the door opened, and in walked King Viserys. Ready to defend his favorite child, the ailing monarch cast a shadow over the proceedings. The air thickened with anticipation as the confrontation unfolded.

In a swift and brutal turn of events, Vaemond found himself condemned for openly declaring the princess's sons as bastards. The throne room, once filled with the echoes of legal arguments, now bore witness to the irrevocable consequences of familial discord and political maneuvering. As the lifeblood of House Velaryon spilled in pursuit of power and legitimacy, the court faced the stark reality that the struggle for succession and survival could exact a heavy toll on those entangled in the webs of Westerosi politics.

The atmosphere in the dining hall was thick with tension, mirroring the strained relationships within the Targaryen family. Viserys, lying in his seat of honor, served as the symbolic divide between two estranged siblings, Rhaenyra and Y/N, as the air was charged with unspoken grievances.

Jace and Luke, Baela and Rhaena, each engaged in their own conversations, while Aegon and Helaena shared a tender moment, the Prince gently rubbing his wife's hand. Aemond and Daemon, ever vigilant, sat observing, their tension a reflection of the underlying conflicts.

As King Viserys was carried in, the room stood in a display of respect. The king began his speech, adressing his family. “It’s good to see you all together. My heart aches when I see the faces dearest to me so full of envy and drifting apart form each other. House of the Dragon must be united, so let us forget all and stay strong. If not for the realm, the for this old man, who loves you all dearly.“ But the damage had been done, and the fractures within the family ran too deep to be easily mended.

Rhaenyra's toast, seemingly a gesture of reconciliation, momentarily shifted the mood. Alicent responded gracefully, highlighting the common ground between them as mothers, but the facade of harmony was shattered by a seemingly innocent gesture—a pig brought before Prince Aemond, triggering memories of the Pink Dread incident.

Aemond's explosive reaction disrupted the fragile peace. The room fell into an uneasy silence as he stood, expressing a "final tribute" to the health of his nephews, ending the speech with an insult towards the boys calling them "Strong". Chaos erupted as the young princes clashed, and the adults scrambled to intervene. The disastrous dinner culminated in Princess Rhaenyra's decision to retreat to Dragonstone, leaving behind a shattered illusion of family unity. The scars of the past ran too deep, and the once-grand gesture of a family dinner had unraveled into a painful reminder of the irreparable divisions within House Targaryen.

The dimly lit corridors echoed with quiet footsteps as Y/N made his way to his father's chamber. Upon entering, a solemn atmosphere enveloped the room, and Y/N approached King Viserys. As he assisted the ailing monarch in preparing for sleep, Viserys muttered incoherent phrases, and amidst the confusion, Y/N discerned a recurring theme—Aegon's prophecy.

In the hushed moments of their interaction, the weight of impending succession hung in the air. Viserys, in his final moments, seemed to impart a significant task to his son, urging him to fulfill the prophecy. The murmurings faded as the night unfolded, and King Viserys the Peaceful drew his last breath.

As dawn approached, the realm awaited the news of a new leader who would step forward to succeed the late monarch. The corridors, once traversed by Y/N in anticipation, now held the echoes of transition and the uncertainty that accompanied the changing tides of leadership within House Targaryen.

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A/N: This one is slightly longer, but I couldn't help but give Alicent and her kids the husband and father they deserved. We all could agree that Viserys absolutely sucked in these roles. Thank you for all the support and it would mean the world to me if you checked out my other works ♡

[eraenaa]

Twin Flame

Aemond Targaryen x Twin Reader

Synopsis: Anywhere that you are, that I’d be. Following Aemond to the Riverlands against your better judgment and sensibilities because you knew all too well you could never be apart from your twin.

Warnings: ¿Angst?, Targcest, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 2,333

A/N: (1) Based on a request where they wanted "Aemond has a twin sister, they both love each other, more than sibilings should, but ofc they could never do something about it.When Aemond takes Harrenhall he sees the opportunity, and gets his sister to go with him. At the end making Harrenhall their piece of paradise, where they can love each other freely without the expectations of their family or the court." (2) Find the song references ;)

“Come with me, sister, come with me to Harrenhall.” You feel your stomach pit at the vulnerability in your twin’s voice. A vulnerability that you had not seen nor heard for so long— a vulnerability that he had hidden away, but it would always shine through for you. “Aemond,” You sighed, resisting the urge to turn to him. Your knees already felt weak, and to look upon your twin’s face would surely make you rethink everything that needs to be done. Just a look upon Aemond’s pleading face would make you forget about all the sensibilities that your brother seemed to ignore. “Please… I need you, ñuha perzys.” (My fire)

“And they need me, Aemond. You know this.” You choked. “With you gone and Aegon burnt and Ser Criston away… who will be with Helaena and Mother? Sister has already refused her dragon even for her own sake— someone must protect them, Aemond. If not you, then me.” You looked upon your twin’s eye and saw unshed tears. “But you are meant to be with me— to be by my side! From the womb to our tomb, we are meant to be with each other! Do you dare to separate us? You? My own twin would be the one to tear us apart?” You shook your head. “Aemond… the circumstances have changed! You know what we must do! I—I cannot leave our mother and sister defenseless! I must stay here, and you must go to Harrenhall… without me.” Aemond took hold of your arm, his grasp harsh. Unwilling to let you go. “I will die in Harrenhall without you,” 

“Oh, Aemond,” You sighed, stepping forward and cupping his cheek, feeling as a tear fell. “If you die, I will shortly follow after. You know I cannot live without my twin flame.” You whispered. “We must do our duties, brother… were you not the one who taught and had embedded that in my head? We must play our roles here and deny ourselves comfort and… and our desires.” Aemond scoffed. “Deny ourselves?” He spat. “We have been denying ourselves the moment we were born! You and I, and they know we belong together, but what have they done? They had plotted to separate us the moment we came to this world! Forcing us to betrothals that align with our duties and pay no mind to what we want!” You swallowed thickly, caressing his cheek to calm the fire in his veins. 

“Can you not see, sister? If we are in Harrenhall, we will be free. We shall command the Riverlands together— just you and I and our dragons. We will reign fire upon the usurpers and their bannermen; we shall take what is rightfully ours, and no one could hinder us anymore.” 

“Oh, my love… your mind is muddled— deluded.” You say softly, but Aemond furiously shakes his head. “Do you not want to be with me?” He asked, voice holding a magnitude of hurt that broke the heart that you shared with him. “I do. But you know I can’t. Not when Mother and Hela—“ 

“Enough with your excuses! They had made their decisions— they have no intentions of winning this war— let alone fighting it! Mother still holds love for our enemy, and our enemy still holds love for her. No one from their side would dare harm Helaena, and you know this!” You looked at him, appalled by his words. “You would leave them defenseless?” You say in disgust. “I would leave them to be with you! If you would make me choose between them and you— you already know the answer, so be merciful, sister, and not make me utter it.” You did not know whether to focus on the dread in your heart or the overflowing love for Aemond. “Gods, brother… this is no use. You know what we must do, and I beg you, my love, to accept our fates. We must go our separate ways. I’m sorry.” You almost sobbed, urging him to let go of his hold of you. You placed a tender kiss upon the side of his lips and felt another tear roll from his eye. “I love you, Aemond… but I’m sorry, I cannot come with you.”

Aemond left for the Riverlands before first light, and you felt his departure by the throbbing pit in your heart; half of you had left. “You must know that this is for the better, my sweet,” Your mother whispered, staring into your eyes, which resembled your twin’s. Though she bore the both of you on the same day, she often had difficulty accepting that the two of you were twins. Because where Aemond was brutal, you were gentle. Where Aemond was rash, you were rational. What the other lacked, the other had— never complete, but whole when together.

“I know. I—I think I know… but mother, I feel like I had betrayed him,” You said. You knew perfectly well both of your roles and what must be done to save your family and faction, but you could not help but feel the lack pitting in you within just a few hours of your beloved twin’s departure. Alicent sighed and cupped your cheek as she saw the tears welling in your eyes. “What you did is for the sake of me and your sister, and we are forever grateful for you, my love. You had made your choice, and Ameond his.” You nodded, unable to look your mother in the eye because as much as you tried to sell to Aemond that the reason for your reluctance to come with him was your mother and sister— you had used that as a ploy to hinder him from leaving and going to the Riverlands because you never thought your twin flame could leave you. 

You knew Harrenhall had to be felled in order to have an advantage in the war, but when the castle fell, you had been warned by Helaena that Aemond would soon follow. You could not let that be. And you foolishly thought that if you hindered him from going to Harrenhall by denying yourself to follow him, you could perhaps redo the prophecy. 

“She must go to him.” Helaena suddenly spoke, breaking the silence between you and your mother. Your gaze flew to your sister, who looked distantly out of the window. “No. Sister, I stayed here for you and Mother.” You say, feeling your mother hold onto your hands. Helaena turned to you with a knowing yet far-off look in her eyes. “You stayed here for him. But he needs you in Harrenhall.” Your mother shook her head, “Your sister will stay here with us. And in time, when need be… we shall leave this all behind— live… live a quiet life. Somewhere away from all this bloodshed.” 

“Leave?” You questioned, brows deeply furrowed. “Leave for where? This is our home, mother.” You added, Alicent licking her lips and gaze traveling the room. “I did not stay here with you and abandon my twin so that we could leave our home!” You practically yelled as you realized the plan that your mother had concocted. “Kingslanding is ours thanks to Aemond. Do you mean to abandon it? Leave it for what? The woods? Essos?” You asked incredulously. “We will leave kingslanding for somewhere safe! Away from fire and revolt! Away from dra—“ You abruptly stood and removed your mother’s hold. “But we are dragons!” You screamed. Alicent shook her head, the influence of Aemond shining through you during his absence. 

“There is nothing more to be said,” Helaena spoke again, sensing an argument was to break. “We will leave, and so shall you.” You licked your lips and shook your head as you walked towards your sister. “Helaena,” You sighed. “Go to Aemond, sister. He needs you more than we do. You are his twin… his opposing force— only you could calm his rage.” You turned to your mother, who looked upon you and your sister, defeated and picking at her fingertips. She gave a hesitant nod, her plan failing as she could never truly take you away from Aemond, no matter what plan she had concocted ever since both of your childhoods. You were wholly Aemond’s, and no one could deny you from him— not even yourself. 

You arrived in Harrenhall in the dead of night. No one questioned your arrival as they had let you and your dragon pass freely, making you question if your twin had warned them; Aemond was already sensing that you would come for him. 

You walked through the eerie halls of the ruined castle as you relied on your intuition as to where your beloved was. You reached a door with the faint light of the hearth shining through the cracks. You carefully pushed upon the warped wooden door and immediately saw your twin lying on the right side of the bed, a pillow placed on the left where he draped his arm upon— the same position he would have whenever you two would sneak upon each other’s chambers and sleep in each other’s comfort. 

You threaded lightly as you stood by Aemond’s side, gently running your hand through his silky hair. Immediately, he woke and turned to you, his lilac eye wide. You saw confusion, apprehension, and shock in his lilac eye. “It’s just me,” You say softly and soothingly, cupping his cheek and tracing his scar with your familiar touch. “You… you came,” He said in disbelief. “Of course. I came for you,” 

You held your breath as Aemond reached up and kissed your lips. You two had only done such acts a few times before, but you had both placed great restraints upon yourselves to never repeat actions again or let your desires stray further. “I knew you would come back to me.” He whispered against your lips, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. “I could never truly leave you alone, now can I? You are half of me, Aemond… I cannot live without the half of my soul.” As the words left your lips, Aemond moved to kiss you once more, moving you to straddle him on the bed. 

“I have only ever wanted you, my fire… only you.” He breathed heavily. Letting his lips stray to your neck, brushing away your hair that you had inherited from your mother. Hair that reminded him of the fire that burned brightly in your veins. “You are all that I need. With you here, I could die happily.” You abruptly parted. “Do not say such things, Aemond. If you die, I’ll shortly follow, and there will be fury that you must pay.” You say harshly, glaring at your twin, who only sadistically grinned at your words. You could not even think of such things, for it only left devastation— if your twin was taken from you, it would only leave you bereft and reeling as he would be the loss of your life. “And I shall do the same. I will follow you into the dark, my fire.” 

Your lips found home upon his again, your hips moving upon his, feeling his need greatly protruding upon your heat. “Aemond,” You mewled, feeling him leave marks upon your neck. “Do you need me as much as I need you?” He hummed. “Answer, sweet sis, will you finally relent and open your eyes to see that you are mine? Or will we still have to deny ourselves?” He questioned. “I’m yours, my love. You have known it ever since— no matter what I say— no matter what has been done, I was and will always be yours.” You breathed heavily. 

You gasped as you felt his hand slither in between the both of you to cup your cunt. Aemond groaned as he felt your wetness seeping through your small clothes. “Aemond, please, please, please— do not make me beg. I want you badly.” You pleaded, Aemond completely amused by your desperation but merciful enough not to let you plead for him further. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him slip a finger into your cunt as his thumb drew lazy circles upon your pulsating pearl. 

You found his lips again, your tongues battling for dominance as your cunt was completly in his control. “More, Aemond, I need more,” You cried, frustrated as you could not find the release you sought desperately for. “Of course you do,” Aemond taunted but still obliged. You lifted your hips as his cock was released from the confines of his night trousers. “Gods,” You cried as you sank upon his length, your nails digging onto his shoulders as his mouth was enclosed upon your tit that he pulled out from your clothing. “You kept yourself pure for me— you truly knew to whom you belong, do you not, sister?” Aemond gritted, already consumed by the pleasure that you and he had denied yourselves. When you sank completely onto his length and when the tip of his cock was perfectly hitting the spot in your cunt, you finally felt complete.

Aemond kissed the tears of pain and pleasure away as your hips moved slowly and cautiously, as each movement only provided pain due to his well-endowed length. “You were made for me,” Aemond groaned as your tight cunt clenched around him further. “Only you could make me feel as such, and only I can make you feel like this.” He growled against your skin. 

When you finally felt conviction, you moved your hips fervently against Aemond’s. The sound of your wet cunt, slapping skin, and your the pleasured moans filled the room. Words of love and desire that had not been uttered but were always known spewed from both of your lips and when you felt your release coming, you locked your lips with Aemond’s and let yourself come undone in the arms of the man that had been yours the moment you two were born. 

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