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#aegon ii
m1ndbrand · 3 days
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Aegon, staring at Y/N with heart eyes:
Aemond, gagging: I liked you better when you were a whore.
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sunfyresrider · 2 days
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*ೃ༄SACRILEGE | AEGON II TARGARYEN
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✧Synopsis. You’d been sent to Valea Zalanului, Transylvania to aid a church in desperate need of sisters of the faith. Since you arrived your faith has been constantly tested and the priest himself stirs nothing but unease within you.
✧Content. 18+nsfw ahead, Old English, vampire!priest, fem!reader, “blood letting”, confessional, provocative thoughts/dreams, vampire cult?, blasphemy, sacrilege,“father”, corruption kink, smut, m/f cunnilingus, pnv. WC. 6.3k
✧Translations. Wot- know, Gramercy- thanks, Hast- have, Hath- had, Thou - you, ‘I- in, Dost/Doth- do, Thy- your, Tis- it is, Merely- solely/only, Beray- reveal, Aye- always/ever, Ere- before
✧Note. anddddd we’re back. I haven’t been writing enough in the last few months so I am rusty. FYI the plot moves fast, this was originally just meant to be a short smut. Tags. @criticallybella @etherial-moon-blog @xylianasblog
Valea Zalanului,
Transylvania,
1480
You had been sent on a journey to join and aid in a new church far from home. A little village twenty some miles from the nearest city in desperate need for a priest and sisters of the faith. You hadn’t minded traveling the distance, albeit the chill from the soon to pass winter season made it all the harder. The town itself was even smaller than you assumed, a grandiose church sat in the middle of around thirty very simple dwellings. The wood, straw and stone was much different from the entirely stone city you were blessed to be born into.
Valea Zalanului had a certain charm about it that most large settlements lacked, natural beauty. God had taken extra time to craft the hills and forests surrounding it. Unfortunately, you’d be inside the church for most of your stay here. Which might not be a horrible thing considering many lives had been lost due to disease, a child who made it past three was considered a blessing. Not to mention the wars that raged on throughout the country.
Your heart ached with excitement at the idea of being a part of this place and helping the people who lived here.
You noticed that even though it was shrouded in beauty every face you passed seemed grim and the town itself was droll in comparison to ones you visited previously. In all honesty, and god forgive you for saying this, you’d find more cheerful faces during a funeral.
As you began to ascend the steps to the church you were immediately greeted by two sisters, one was much shorter than the other, her face soft and fresh, the other was tall and sharp. The elder seemed less pleased to greet you as she stood a distance, observing you carefully. The younger girl stepped forward and bowed slightly before taking your hands.
"Thou might not but be our new sister! welcome, I be sister Marishka, the one standing yonder is sister Aleera!” Her voice was sweet and her excitement was evident. “Pleased to compose thy acquaintance Mariska,” you smiled earnestly, “And sister Aleera.” Her eyes bore into you and you waited with bated breath for her judgment. None came, only a single nod and a knowing look to Mariska.
“Don’t let her fright thou, that little nod means she approves. Aleera is normally quite welcoming, it’s just these days hast been busy.” Your face betrayed you as it showed your surprise, the town seemed too empty to have a lot of traffic. “Truly?”
“Oh yes, many of the sisters that hast traveled hither were disappointing to say the least. Not to mention the sheer numbers of victims of war and famine that hast graced our steps… This winter hath been much worse than 'i the past.” You glanced around, observing your surroundings for all the people she spoke of but none were found. Perhaps that had all passed away while in their care or sent away for whatever reason.
A strange feeling began to creep up your spine. You could not place what it was or why it was but it was very much present. Your head whipped back to the door where Aleera was beckoning you inside, an arm wrapped around your own, paired with the brightest smile you’d ever seen. She had practically dragged you inside, gawking at the new ceiling fixtures. It grew ever darker the further you moved inside, save the one grandiose stained glass window depicting the crucifixion.
For how busy she claimed it to be, the church seemed rather empty. It felt chilled, more so than the outside and instead of oak the building was made of stone. Her chatterings were lost on you as you took it all in. There was something greatly lacking, overshadowed by a presence you could not name. It almost felt as if this building was a costume, built to resemble a sacred place. You nearly began to regret auctioning yourself to a newer place, perhaps adventure was not suited for you.
A light nudge to your waist drew you out of your stupor, gazing incredulously at Marishka. Her voice was still hushed as you turned to look upon, what you could only presume was the acting priest. He looked far younger than what you expected, messy platinum hair framing his baby-esque face. His smile was bright, yet his eyes were a stark contrast. They were drowned in a hue of violet, shrouded with a cloud of something you could not pinpoint.
His lips moved and you still could not hear, you were far too focused on how his attire was not in the proper size. “Mine mind seems to be elsewhere, please forgive me. What was it thou spoke?” He chuckled silently to himself, your disrespect of his status seemed to amuse him.
"Never fret, thy journey hath been long and i presumed thou had been exhausted. I’m father Aegon, the current and hopefully 'i the foreseeable future priest.” His accent was heavy and foreign, British, not something you had heard often. You bowed slightly, hand pressed against your chest as you greeted him.
"Mine name is-” Father Aegon waved his hand, “I wot thy name and all the important details. I’ve been 'i close communication with thy sect and we feel most blessed to hast thou” His smile felt unnerving, unusually sharp at the tips of his mouth. You could almost swear his teeth were whiter than most, though dental hygiene was not a common practice.
His eyes, on the other hand, were strange. You’d never seen such a color before nor been enchanted into gazing at them. It seemed you could become lost in the depths, if only for a moment. Your silence must have been off putting because Marshika seemed to grip you harder. “Alright, Methinks mine sister hath had too much excitement for today. I shall guide her to her chambers.” Father Aegon nodded, a silent understanding passed between them.
You struggled to find sleep after today's odd welcoming. After mindlessly reading through the weathered pages of a Bible you’ve owned since a child you blew out the singular candle in your room. You settled under the thin blanket and turned your back to the window.
The moon was full tonight. It bathed your whole room in its pale light, creating odd shadows from your belongings. Your eyes were trained on the window across the room. The howling sounds of wind began lulling you to sleep like a corrupted lullaby.
Everything will be okay, you told yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut. God will guide me through this, you murmured as you finally drifted off into slumber…
The sudden feeling of your bed being weighed down stirred you awake, but when you tried to move your body became limp. You glanced up to see a figure on all four limbs climbing onto the bed, dazzling red eyes boring into yours as it moved above you. A beast, one that seemed to be plucked out of hell itself. Your blood ran cold, the pounding of your heart echoing in your eardrums as its clawed, beastly hands slowly descended upon you.
You could neither scream nor move, as if you had been held down by an invisible weight and gagged by an unknown object. Your eyes squeezed shut, praying, begging for some sort of escape. Dear Lord art in heaven, whatever sin I may have committed or performed against you, dear god have mercy on me.
A soft pair of lips touched your collarbone, kissing against your trembling skin gently. You felt the devil above you shift, the horrid hands changing into ones that carefully caressed you. Blasphemy, you thought bitterly. How could such a heinous creature use such loving, familiar gestures? And yet, the hands and lips brought a strange warmth that calmed the tense muscles in your body and eased the erratic beats of your heart.
Your eyes began to pry themselves open, a flash of silver hair just hovering in your field of view. The smell of wine and a strange hint of musk entice your senses, the image growing clearer by the second. It was not the nightmarish shape you had seen before. Instead, a beautiful, gorgeous being that lulled you to another world with his hands.
Priest Aegon? No, not him, it couldn’t be.
His kisses did not cease, instead trickled down to your collarbone. His fingers inching onto your breasts, massaging into the tender flesh. You were not in your right mind, thoughts beginning to form and protest kept slipping away. It felt too good to fight it. Surely, this man is god in disguise.
The father’s lips pressed into that of your breast, his tongue ghosting your nipple. Your breath hitched, the feeling alone almost is enough to send you into convulsions. However, you were abruptly pulled from the haze, a sharp sensation pricked at your breast. With sudden clarity you peered down to see the priest sinking his teeth into your breast.
You jolted awake, eyes flying open and hands grasping at the spot where he bit you. You were in your room, alone, but you still were reeling from the dream. You heard the soft chirping of chaffinches and the soft rustling of the leaves. The normally comforting sounds of day instead brought a sense of dread in the air, as if the nightmare that visited you had left an imprint on the atmosphere.
As you remove yourself from bed and began washing yourself in front of the mirror you noticed A thin sheen of sweat coated your brow, and when you shifted you felt an odd ache between your legs. Worry began to nestle within your chest, could the lord see your dreams? Will he know about the vile, carnal, utterly strange thoughts that came to you?
You had neither had intentions to act on anything nor the carnal desire others held. You would repent for this, pray for forgiveness and to banish the image from your mind entirely. Out of thought, out of mind, you repeat to yourself in your mind as you readied yourself.
It’s important to note each house of God has different rules, in this one they are extremely picky about who they allow to work inside. Though it was increasingly clear it desperately needed some changes. To start, proper sleeping areas and a better way to heat the stone building. Perhaps more windows as well, it was extremely dark inside, midday felt more like midnight.
Everyone had made themselves scarce after breakfast, a small meal of bread and cheese that the farmers were kind enough to provide the church. It was a Sunday which meant communion would be held later in the evening. You attempted to make yourself busy in the meanwhile traveling around the town to feel out the people, culture and whatnot. It’s very important to know whom you would be spreading the word of the lord to.
The hallways within the cathedral were dimly lit, torches lined the walls instead of the usual decorative windows. There were few people around during the day and you encountered none of them. It seemed eerily empty, lacking something you could not put a name to. The wooden floorboards creaked as you walked across them and the grandiose door made a wicked screeching noise as you pried them open.
You felt lighter as you stepped outside, you felt lighter as you stepped outside, as if a weight was lifted from your shoulders and the dust no longer filled your airways. How odd, you thought to yourself, no house of God had made you feel like that before. You shook your head, starting your venture outside the confines of your home. The sleet had turned the soil into mud and the clouds remained dreary but at least the sun was starting to peak over the distant clouds.
Without hesitation you made your way through town, taking note of the way people eyed you suspicious and the caution everyone exuded while walking around the church. A scrawny man with a scraggly beard and rotting clothes strode towards your direction, probably going to visit the single alcohol serving establishment. You decided to attempt to speak to him, “excuse me, sir?”
He seemed completely uninterested as he avoided meeting your eyes. “S-sir? Doth thou hast a instant-” The man paused in his steps, turning around to meet your face. “You’re new, aren’t thou? Shipped 'i from another country i'd wager.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, glad he was willing to converse. “Only a few countries away,” you lightly jested.
He let out a sigh of disappointment, almost gazing at you with pity in your eyes. “If you’re as smart as thou sound, sister, i would turn tail and flee.” Before you could muster up the courage to ask him why, the man continued. "Aye since that priest came around everything’s been strange. Don’t say to me thou haven’t noticed aught?” You opened your mouth to return the sentiment, perhaps ask more questions, but the sound of the church bells caught you off guard, the bells signaling the start of service. The man gave you a curt nod before continuing his trek.
You nearly fell over yourself trying to walk back to your temporary home. The doors were open, though there was hardly any people inside. Just as you stepped through the threshold you heard the doors close, the heavy wood clanging together loudly and shutting you out. A sudden wave of panic hit you, instead of feeling safe locked away in the house of god, you felt panicked.
You kept your head down as you walked to the front, seating yourself farthest from the altar. You closed your eyes, readying yourself for opening prayer.
“We gramercy, our father, for that life which thou've discovered to us by jesus, thy son, by whom thou made all things, and take care of all of the world-”
The insistent pounding of your heart beat berated your eardrums, drowning out the flurry of voices around you. A part of you worried someone could read your mind, see what you saw last or heard the distrust for your church evident in your innermost thoughts. No longer did you feel pure enough to partake in any ceremony and if you could, you would flee to your chambers.
“Eternal god, we bid thou 'i the name of thy son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those whom receive it. That they may eat 'i remembrance of the corporal agent of thy son, and witness thee, o god.”
You were drawn back to the start of the communion, realizing you must have blacked out to miss so much. It felt as if time moved differently, you could swear you had just sat down.
“Holy God, we bid thou 'i the name of thy son Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this wine to the souls of all those whom receive it. That they may posset 'i remembrance of the blood of the lord which was shed for 'em”
Father Aegon’s voices boomed and bounced against the stone walls. It resounded in your head, as if it had come from within. You watched with careful eyes as the followers of Christ walked the aisles, one by one lining up in front of him. It was your turn now to stand and retake communion, as was required of nuns who moved sects. A part of you wanted to just sit and not join the line, but the fear of being shamed was far greater than the woe.
Your legs felt weak as you stood, your muscles nearly denying your pleas to move. You felt guilt weighing down your soul, as if divine punishment was awaiting. You shuffled along, eyes casted towards the ground as you gripped your dress. The Father was looking at, you could feel his eyes as you moved forward. From the tone of his voice he appeared disinterested in every other participant. Nervously, you stepped onto the last step, his form looming over you.
Father Aegon’s eyes bore into yours as they glimmered, unnatural they were, but he would just deny the accusation. He presented the host, and carefully he placed it in your mouth. His eyes studied the way your tongue nervously peeked out of your mouth, the way your large pupils stared into his own with such innocence and devotion.
Aegon imagined you would look even better on your knees.
“The body of Christ,” he proclaimed as he studied the way your throat moved as you swallowed the host. “Amen,” you mumbled out so quietly even his advanced set of ears struggled to hear. Your eyes watched him carefully as he turned to pass the chalice of wine to you. Quite the attentive little thing you were.
A moment later, he handed you the chalice with a light smile. The golden cup was unsteady as your hands trembled for an unknown reason. A strange feeling continued to creep up your spine as you lost yourself in his gaze. Perhaps it was due to the fact you hadn’t seen a man with his appearance in your entire life. If you were allowed to think such, he could be considered devastatingly beautiful.
The liquid slipped from the chalice and into your mouth. Instead of the warmth of Christ coating your senses, you felt your throat constrict and a harsh itch causing you to choke. You nearly dropped the holy cup to the floor as you tried to force yourself to swallow, his hand caught it before it could hit the floor, eyebrows raised as he studied you closely, listening to the rapid beat of your heart.
It burned in an unfamiliar way, as if you were being poisoned, and soon the taste of the communion wine coated your mouth with its putrid flavor you weren’t used to. Panic settled in your veins as your mind raced with explanations, fear of damnation.
Aegon smiled a small, amused grin which caught you off guard. He looked deeply into your eyes, his own burning with a mix of hunger as one hand slowly rose to wipe the wine from your lip. You couldn't look away as he brought his finger to his mouth and licked the liquid away, humming lowly. “Tastes like shit, doesn’t it?”
Your breath caught in your throat as your mouth gaped in shock. This was your Lord's blood, this was a sacred ceremony. How could he say something so vulgar. Aegon cleared his throat, lazily moving his hands to make the sign of the cross. “The blood of Christ,” he spoke louder than necessary. “Amen.”
You bowed your head, fingers gripping tightly onto the hem of your dress as you scurried away. The rest of mass you sat in utter silence, your gaze casted onto the floor. What the hell was happening to you? You had accidentally disassociated throughout the rest of communion, whatever prayers and hymns were sung you did not hear. You denied Marishka’s invitation to supper, instead running straight to your room to find solace in isolation.
Sleep once again eluded you the night after communion. It did not matter how much you tossed and turned, the sheets felt suffocating and your blood burned beneath your skin. Each time you began to drift your mind wandered where it shouldn’t, thoughts you hadn’t had before crept into your subconscious. Why did you choke? You’d never done anything like that before.
It felt as if the wine itself was rejecting you, deeming you unholy and not worthy of swallowing it. That terrified you, what had you done to deserve such a punishment? Nothing, you’ve done nothing in your existence that was against neither god nor man. You sat in bed, tearing the cloth that shielded you from prying eyes. It was better, but it was not enough. You swiftly leaned over in bed, pushing the tiny window up so the cold air could enter. Finally, your lungs seemed to inhale deeper, a blanket of ice wrapping around your flesh and easing the constant heat.
Out of thought and out of mind you murmured to yourself as you laid back down, out of thought and out of mind, out of thought and out of mind, out of thought-
In your dreams you mindlessly roamed the halls, drawn to an unknown location. Through the darkness you eyed a crack in a doorway, golden light emitting into the hallways. You stalked closer, carefully angling yourself so you could peek inside without being caught. It took you a moment to recognize the sounds, quiet giggles, panting breaths, soft murmurs, and vulgar noises coming from a female. It made your skin crawl.
You could make out three figures on the lavish bed, which you noted was much more posh than your own. Their bodies intertwined around each other and fully nude. There was something strange about it, each of them were glistening as if their skin was damp with water. Quietly, you sunk to your knees, bending your neck so you could truly focus in. As your pupil dilated, your mouth gaped in shock, thank god no noise came out.
They were there, you mean, the sisters and a strange man were all there. Their skin covered in what you could only assume was blood due to the red tint and they were… coupling. Or were they devouring him? Quickly you rose to your feet, silently scurrying away to not draw attention. Your heart raced as you neared your chambers, reaching your hands out into the darkness grasping for salvation.
Your body collided with something hard, arms reaching around to blindly grab hold of it. The pale moonlight illuminated the silver locks adorning his head, violet eyes and white teeth glowing against the dark. Priest Aegon. You looked back down in shame, your eyes had deceived you. You were not in the halls, no. Instead, in his chamber.
“Are thou alright, sister?” He asked in a gentle voice, a hand resting on your cheek, caressing the warm skin. You aren’t sure why your body refused to move or why your hands refused to release their hold on him. It felt as if your blood had turned into lead, weighing you down. Your eyes trailed up to his face, purposefully avoiding the lack of clothing or cotton bottoms he adorned which hid nothing.
“I- Methinks I was sleepwalking.”
Aegon’s fingers pulled your chin up, the corner of his lip tugging into a grin. Your brain was a fog, a mist, unable to process what was happening. He was leaning in, and the smell of wine and musk blinded your sense. You felt his lips brush past your ear, a chill running down your spine.
“And thy subconscious brought thou to me. Could it be that you’ve been dreaming of me?” The words were whispered like a secret, a taboo, a forbidden thing. Aegon’s words enticed you, which they shouldn’t, it is immoral and sinful. Your heart raced at the thought, “yes,” you breathed out.
Your hand reached up to rest against his bare chest, feeling his heart thump in the same erratic pace. “I’ve been dreaming of thou too, little lamb.” A hand found its way to your neck, his lips grazing over yours as he spoke. “Each time, thou devote yourself to me merely and i consume thou wholly. Keeping thou inside me eternally.” Your stomach flipped, a tightness building in the pit of your abdomen. It was sinful, it was wrong, it was utterly obscene.
And yet you sunk further into him, lips parting and inviting him to ravish you. His hands slipped under your dress, cupping your bottom and lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso, his cock pressing against your sensitive region. Aegon climbed on top in a familiar way, his soft lips dancing with yours.
Your head felt fuzzy and light, the sensation of his touch overwhelming and euphoric. You lost control of yourself, abandoning the vows and purity you swore. You were so lost, consumed by lust and sin. He pressed his hips against yours, rubbing against you. Aegon’s lips trailed down your jaw, peppering kisses along your neck.
He moved away from you and for a moment you mourned his touch, yearning to have him close to you once more. You observed him with lidded eyes as he kneeled down between your thighs. He was beautiful, a divine image of an angel sent to heal you. “I wonder if you taste as sweet as your scent, little lamb.” The father muttered before pushing up the skirts of your dress, he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh.
The warmth of his breath tickling the most sacred area. His strong hands gripped your thighs, holding them down. Aegon licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves into your body. You couldn't help but completely lose yourself to him. You never imagined such pleasure could be given, and by a man of god.
The father's tongue circled your clit, sucking on it gently. Aegon pulled away and pushed a finger inside you, a quiet gasp escaped your lips, a foreign pleasure spreading through you. He began to pump his finger in and out of you, curling his fingers, stroking a bundle of nerves that sent electricity through your body.
Your head began to spin, pleasure consuming your every thought. A pressure began to build within you, an indescribable sensation that only grew. His tongue traced intricate patterns onto your core, suckling on the sensitive bundle. ”p-please father,” you begged, though you were not sure what. Aegon chuckled and the vibrations made your eyes roll in the back of your skull. Your sense of reality had all but abandoned you, your head was stuck in the cloud as if you had ascended to heaven.
You felt your body shake and the tension in your abdomen snap. It was as if your soul was torn out of you, the euphoria so intense it was almost painful. You felt dazed, lost in a trance, and unable to move. However, as you glanced up you no longer saw your angelic priest.
Instead, a demon gazed down upon you. The beautiful face now morphed into a twisted image, fangs protruding from its jaw, and eyes glowing a sinister crimson. Its mouth opened, a forked tongue slipping out and licking a path up your thigh. Your mind started to clear, terror seeping its way in your heart, and before you could scream for help it sunk its fangs deep within the flesh.
knock knock
You jolted awake, grabbing the skin around your neck and chest as your frantic breathing cut through the silence. It was only a nightmare, you muttered to yourself. You shifted in place, feeling something cool beneath your bum. Gazing down at the creased sheets, the sight of a sopping wet spot on the cloth made your stomach churn.
knock knock knock
“Sister! Tis time to wake!” The door handle wiggled, the sound of locks echoed throughout the room. “Y-yes, sister!” Hurriedly you rushed to the water basin to try and clean off the sinful stain, but as you stood your head began to pound. It was as if a needle pricked at the backs of your eyes. To add further to the misery, an instant dizziness overtook you as your legs buckled beneath you, sending you tumbling to the ground.
Horror flooded into your veins, was this a divine punishment for what happened in your thoughts? It was pure carnal desire, a disgusting and immoral craving. This was a divine warning, a sign that if you don't rectify your sins soon you will be punished. You scrambled to your feet, putting on the clothes necessary to venture to the altar and pray for forgiveness.
You flung open the door and hurried out, leaving a bewildered sister behind. You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, passing a group of befuddled visitors in your wake. Tears streamed down your face as the weight of your actions began to crush you. As soon as you reached the altar seating in front of the statue of God himself you fell to your knees.
The sickness he has placed upon you was a warning, the dreams you were having were cursed. You felt as if eyes were always watching, a shadow lurking around every corner. The walls seemed to be closing in on you, the air thick with regret. You bowed your head, clasping your hands together in front of you.
You prayed on your knees every day for the next week. Each night you dreamt of him, he was a devil, a temptress pulling you into sin. You had to rid yourself of the thoughts. Each day, you would pray, and each night you would dream. Your own mind began eating itself alive, the constant fear and paranoia taking its toll on your body. There wasn’t a day in the past weeks where you did not feel exhausted or sickly.
It was only an amount of time before you fell from grace, perhaps died from stress. You have felt like an animal hiding in the skin of a holy nun. No matter how many times you scrubbed yourself, you still felt the filth from your nights. It was only a matter of time until they found out, until the others saw. It was past time you confessed to your crimes and beg the lord directly for forgiveness, you could let these ill feelings fester no longer.
You’d never had to take a confessional in your life except for when you first became a sister. Since then, you have remained in good standing. It was an awkward thing, especially since the only confessor was the priest. You knew you could tell him anything, he was the voice of god, yet a larger part of you was frightened too.
The idea of seeing him, knowing what you dreamt, was terrifying. But you had no choice, you needed to seek repentance, or else your mind would eat itself alive. As you walked to the confessional, a familiar feeling of eyes burning holes in the back of your skull followed. You begrudgingly pushed through, waltzing towards the steps of the lord. It was darker than usual, the storm brewing outside mimicking your internal warfare. The quiet cracks of distant lighting illuminating the statue of Christ, in a haunting way.
It lacked a confessional, though one was being built in the far side of the room, until the carpenter disappeared. Unfinished and unused it sat and a part of you envied it, for now you felt sullied. The soft pitter patter of footsteps approaching from the hall echoed throughout the chapel, growing closer. A lump formed in your throat, nerves eating you from the inside. You felt him kneel next to you, his head tilting to gaze at you. “Come to confess, little lamb?” His words came out in a purr. The script you had rehearsed vanished into the void and your mouth dried up. “How’d thou wot?”
Aegon raised a hand and tucked a stray hair under your veil. “I’ve taken notice of thy ailments as I hast taken notice of the lack of thy presence. I wot all that goes on inside these walls.”
“Then I suppose I hast no choice,” you sucked in a deep breath, chewing at your bottom lip. Aegon beckoned you to continue, his face laced with curiosity and understanding. “Forgive mine, Father for I hast sinned,” the words rushed out of your throat. “I hast been having dreams of late. The most intricate and vivid dreams I hast had ere. 'i mine sleepless nights I see things that I shouldn’t and doth things with thou that are deemed unholy. I betray mine God and worship only thou. ” You released the breath you were holding, awaiting his response.
He moved closer to you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. "Tis not wrong to worship I, his voice and his will join through me. I grant thou what he not, if only thou speak to me.” Aegon’s violet eyes gleamed, and his smile divine yet twisted. “Wouldst thou like to live eternally? Wouldst thou like to feel ecstasy?”
“What will you from me?” The words left you silently, your own voice unrecognizable to your ear. "Remove thy dress as I will guide thou thumb," His hand slipped from the veil and caressed the soft skin of your cheek, a thumb grazing your lips. His hand caressed yours, his warm touch sinking your mind further into the clouds. At first, you moved away, some semblance of sense still lingering within.
“Dost thou not desire what I giveth freely?” Aegon’s eyes were so magnetic, pulling you closer into his gravity. You could not deny him, nor did you want to. You shook your head quietly, beckoning him to continue. He guided your hands to the string lacing together your blouse, pulling them apart. One by one the threads popped, a slow and tantalizing pace. The fabric slid off your shoulders, exposing the tender skin underneath. Your heart beat flurried, some remnant of holiness trying to will you to stop. “Such beautiful skin thou hast,” Aegon murmured, his nose brushing against your neck.
A soft kiss was pressed into the side of your neck, his teeth lightly dragging along the flesh. You gasped, your eyes closing. You were lost in a fog, unable to think clearly or make rational decisions. Father Aegon guided your hands to the waist of his skirt, slowly pulling it down. Your eyes shot open, watching his cock spring free from the cloth.
The tip was a soft pink, one large vein running down the middle. You were clueless as to what to do. You felt his fingers slip under your veil, gripping onto your hair. “I will guide thy mouth,” he purred, as if he read your mind. Father Aegon stood up, “like this,” his hand guided yours, stroking him slowly.
You leaned in, pressing your lips against the tip, the skin velvety and hot. Your tongue darted out, licking his tip. You could feel him throb within your grip, his eyes glazing over with lust. Father Aegon pushed your head down, forcing the head past your lips.
His hips began to rock, pushing deeper into your mouth. It was difficult not to choke, the saliva in your mouth gathering quickly. The sounds of his pleasure were like choirs of angels to your ears, serenading you into a trance. Your jaw ached, drool dribbling down the side of your mouth and the length of him.
He pushed your head down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes welled with tears and he admired their glistening beauty. You were utterly perfect for him, he decided, a divine blessing. You tried your best to keep up with his pace, but the dull ache between your legs blinded you. A few small whimpers escaped your throat as you dropped your hand to ease the feeling between your thighs. Aegon released your head, a strand of spit connecting his cock and your lips.
Father Aegon gripped your cheek, colliding his lips with yours. He devoured you as if it was his last meal, as if your lips were the sole path to redemption. His tongue darted out, swirling around your mouth and relishing in your sweet taste. Your mind grew hazy, lack of breath making you dizzy, but you could not pull back. You had desired his touch more than you have ever before.
You whimpered into his mouth, the feeling of his body pressed against yours was indescribable. His firm hands gripped your waist, pushing you on the ground. “Thou look so ethereal underneath me,” he panted out in between breaths. “Wouldst thou like to feel me inside thee.” Aegon rubbed his cock against your heat, your juices coating him.
“P- please Father, I need thou,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his torso pulling him closer. “Needy little lamb, aren’t thou?” His cock pressed into, slowly stretching you to fit him. You let out a moan, a sound you didn’t know you could make. Your fingers found their way into his dress shirt, gripping onto him as he pushed himself inside you.
“Confess sister, how did you allow me to defile you,” he thrusted inside you, filling you completely. You could not think straight, his cock hitting the bundle of nerves that made you squirm. “Confess,” he beckoned before he began slipping himself out of you. “N-no I confess,” you whimpered. Aegon began to slam back into you, a rhythmic pace that made you see stars.
“I- I confess father, I let thou defile me, I dream of thou fingers inside m-” Aegon suckled on your ear, “more,” he growled. “I- I- I dream of your tongue bringing me p- pleasure- every night.” He thrusted into you harder, the sounds of his cock slamming inside you echoing.
He was a god, a divinity sent to bring you to madness and bliss. Aegon had bewitched you body, mind, and soul as you him. “I dreamt thou devouring me,” you screamed out, your legs shaking. Aegon grabbed your hips, digging his nails into the skin to keep you in place. “Wouldst thou like to stay with me forever?” The father’s hips snapped as he pushed deep inside, his cock pulsating. You could feel him inside your womb, his hand pressing down on your lower stomach to feel himself.
Your head spun as the coil inside you began to unwind, the intensity of ecstasy blurring your being. “Y- yes Aegon,” you whimpered out, tears welling in your eyes. His thrusts began to stutter, his pace faltering. Your cunt tightened around him,the muscles in your stomach clenched as a wave of pleasure began to overcome you. “Dost thou swear thyself to me forever,” he whimpered.
“Aegon!” you screamed out, eyes fluttering open. The coil in your stomach snapped, eyes widening moments before you saw his fangs sink into your neck…
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mmurkoff · 17 hours
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the poll was a lie because i ended up doing both
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His Love
|Aegon Targaryen x Fem!Reader|
Part Thirty-Three
Masterlist of Series
Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.
Author's Note: I just wanted to warn y'all that we're going to be getting into some messed up shit here. Even more messed up than assault, getting drugged, nearly raped, and peeing on yourself. As always, thank you so much for your patience with these updates, and I hope you enjoy!
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Chapter Warnings: Graphic depictions of a miscarriage and related thoughts, vomiting, daddy Daemon.
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The prescribed charcoal remedy had long dried on your stomach, cracking and flaking gray chunks into your sheets. Helaena had left with the sun low in the sky, leaving chaste kisses on yours and Aegon's foreheads. She went to ensure Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were comfortable, and they went down to rest.
Aegon refused to move when the Maester returned for the evening; his arm slung over your chest and nose buried into your neck. Orwyle did his work as if the Prince was not there, wringing a damp, woolen cloth into a bowl of cool water as he removed the hardened remedy from your abdomen.
He observed with wrinkled brows when he saw the Valyrian symbols above your womb, rocking the fabric over your malleable skin as he quelled the uneasy feeling in his stomach. He rinsed the material, the clear water becoming ash as he continued his duties.
Orwyle longed to voice his concerns regarding your health, fiddling with his fingers as he concocted another batch of charcoal and clay. You needed to wake soon so he could ensure your best chance of survival. The first forty-eight hours were the most crucial for those battling Poison Hemlock, and the fact that the Stranger had not taken you was a miracle. Animals who ingested the flowering plant died within a day of doing so, their lungs giving out or seized by convulsions.
The Maester believed you were more robust than he thought. The Mother had unquestionably blessed you with the strength of the Warrior to have you breathing for this long. Or perhaps, he thought, it was the Valyrian Gods of your ancestors, the dragon blood in your veins, that protected you.
The few interactions Orwyle had with you always left him with a joyful feeling, a small ray of light within his darkened quarters filled with dusty and ancient tomes. He tried not to care for your health more than that of a provider and his patient, but he found it challenging.
It was the dichotomy, he thought, of when you were awake, full of life, sparring with words and the swords against men who believed themselves better than you, to now, laying on your soft feather tick mattress with an emotionless, sallow hue to your skin. It caused him anguish. Orwyle was determined to find out who would do such a thing to you, uncharacteristically desiring them to be brought to the Father's justice, and resolved to remind Aegon of the need to do so when your two servants entered the chamber.
Once he finished making another concoction, Aegon waved him off, leaving with a firm yet uneasy bow to the room. The moment he left, Aegon stood, righting his rumpled tunic from his few restless hours of sleep, and addressed Fiora and Jeyne.
"What news have you?" he asked pointedly, gathering the ashy mucilage and brush to apply to your abdomen.
The maids shared a look, Fiora's eyes seeming to have never dried up as she cowered behind her companion. Jeyne inhaled a resolute breath. Her years of working for spoiled, impuissant palace goers was a typical occurrence.
"We have found a servant boy who claims to have seen the Princess's protector enter her chambers hours before your discovery. I believe that there is no coincidence to his absence at her door during that time," she relayed in one steady breath, hands clasped humbly over her lower abdomen.
Aegon grunted, disbelieving the credibility of such a statement. It would be the most obvious answer for Ser Arryk to be the culprit. He was heartbroken that his idyllic image of you shattered and the only one besides Aegon who could get close enough to slip poison in unnoticed. The answer was too simple, too straightforward to be true. A lowly kingsguard was the easiest to blame to save face within the royal family and protect whoever really did this. He still had the feeling within him that his mother had something to do with this. It was no coincidence that days prior, the Queen demanded you to leave, and now suddenly, you were at death's door.
Yes, heartbroken and ego-damaged men were a danger to those around them. Aegon understood that more than any, but Arryk would never go so far as to kill you for it. His oath was still to that of the King.
"Bring me this boy," Aegon said dispassionately, never looking in the maid's direction, simply painting your skin.
Fiora and Jeyne nodded, curtsying as was protocol, and headed for the exit until Aegon stopped them short.
"I'm sure you know that the Hand has barred any ravens from King's Landing to Dragonstone," he inquired, unamused as a sneer curled his lip. "Her family must know what has happened here. The more who know about this assassination attempt on a, perhaps this rat will feel pressured reveal themselves."
They both glanced at each other, Fiora gnawing on her lip as more tears emerged from her viridian eyes. Aegon ignored the servant's weeping and placed the bowl on a writing desk with the rest of the Maester's equipment. He pulled a piece of folded cream parchment from his trousers and hurriedly scribbled, fearing someone getting wind of his plan.
"Here is a letter meant for her father," he stated, flicking the paper between his index and middle finger. "You will not be able to send it through the rookery and must go to a brothel madame within the slums of Flea Bottom. Her name is Babette and she will ensure that my words make it to Dragonstone unhindered," Aegon instructed calmly.
They were stunned. Both maids stood in the doorway to your chambers with slightly parted lips, reminding him of a fish. They had never seen him act like such a... prince. He was raised within the castle walls and had the highest education of anyone in Westeros, yet he never seemed to take advantage of it. The maids heard rumors that Aegon was no longer seen at brothels or gambling houses, though they did not believe such a thing to be valid until now.
Fiora's gaze drifted to your listless form, fiery brows arched in disbelief, slowly drifting back to the white-haired prince. Jeyne was the first of the duo to compose herself and briskly walked forward, taking the wax three-headed dragon seal to her cracked hands. You had changed Aegon in ways that people believed impossible, and if she hadn't realized it until now, then who else knew?
If she, someone who saw you daily, did not know the effort and influence you had over a person, did anyone? The eldest maid felt a pang of sadness in her heart for you as weathered eyes lowered to the stone floor, the memory of her scrubbing away your blood and bile replaying as if she were there again.
Jeyne heard passing gossip that you had brought up concern for the small folk during a council meeting. It was fleeting, nothing more than a whisper of a feather drifting in the wind, and soon she forgot about it. What other accomplishments had you done that no one knew of? It was the plight of women, it seemed, to sacrifice one's soul to receive respect or recognition in the world. Once you awoke, she would tell you how much she saw and that your actions were not in vain.
If you woke up, she grimly realized.
A frown pulled at Jeyne's thin lips as she returned to Fiora's side. Her companion seemed to sense the elder's thoughts, placing a comforting hand at her back. Again, She faced Aegon, his violet eyes never leaving hers as she spoke.
"You are changed, Prince Aegon, and while that does not atone for the wrongs you have done, it shows that you are capable of being better," Jeyne expressed with a firm look on her visage. "It would do her well to know that."
Aegon needn't ask whom she was speaking of. He already knew, a sullen look coming over his face as he focused on the cracks of the stone floor. The memory of your limp body when he found you vividly displayed in his mind's eye.
Jeyne and Fiora exited with brief nods and bent knees, with two different goals in mind. The elder would get the servant boy, and the younger would go to the brothel, madame. They didn't ask why Aegon trusted this woman, but they knew it was useless to try. All that mattered now was ensuring your safety and justice.
A quiet groan caused Aegon to lose his collection of thoughts, swiftly going to your side as he watched your brows arch in pain. Droplets of sweat he had not noticed glistened on your hairline and ran down your temples, grabbing a cloth to blot at the excess perspiration. Your breathing sped, breasts rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm. Seeing you more alive as Aegon rang the dampened fabric into the bowl was a relief.
Aegon slid into his place next to you, intertwining his fingers with your limp ones as he brought your knuckles to his lips, stroking the thin skin of your hand. His lips pursed in thought. Aegon knew the Keep was full of snakes ready to strike at any opportunity to raise themselves into higher power, no matter the cost. But in his mind, it was too risky to harm a member of the royal family, but others did not seem to share the same sentiment, and anger filled his hardened soul once more.
Aegon tightened his grip on your hand, harsh enough to bend their sides and crackle the bones.
"When you wake, little one, we shall rain dragon fire on who dared hurt you," he declared, sullen face now calloused.
If you wake...
***
You found yourself within a void, darkness surrounding your body clad in a simple white gown. You couldn't see the beginning or end of where you were, as if your eyes were shut, an unending blackness never touched by light. Your hands found their way to your face, fingertips touching your cheeks, the slope of your nose, and the sockets of your eyes to ensure you were, in fact, real.
Memories flashed within your mind, becoming the only thing you could see in the infinite darkness. You recalled voices, wet mouths talking and drinking, tongues licking lips and tasting something rancid and sweet, hands gesturing and twitching, crawling up your legs. Nausea churned your stomach, and pain rippled in your gut, causing you to fall to your knees. The ground was solid; it was real, and suddenly your eyes opened.
The world was still midnight, though you could see a man before you.
But it wasn't a man...
You weren't sure if it was a person, their face covered with an obsidian mantle and the seven-pointed star's insignia woven into their robes. Fear cinched your heart, and your chest rose and fell with quick breaths as you attempted to run, only to be flung back into your spot by an invisible force.
"Who-" you stammered, breaths coming in quick pants, "who are you? Where am I? I-I cannot see."
The being reached an arm in your direction, the fabric slowly drawing back to reveal its skin or lack thereof. Their finger slowly traced down your cheek, cold and warm, comforting and alarming, yet like nothing simultaneously.
"I am what I am," they stated, tone unlike anything you had ever heard. It sounded like the voices of many speaking simultaneously, men, women, children, and everything in between melting into one eerie noise.
"You're here to hurt me, aren't you?" The words did not sound like they came from a grown woman; instead, a young girl high-pitched and hoydenish with fright as tears lined your lashes. Your breath hitched as their fingers left your skin, fear scratching at your throat and squeezing your eyes shut. "Where am I?"
The being stepped backward, seeming to float on the ground as sparkles of white flashed in the air. Stars, you realized, twinkling in the infinite void. For a moment, you were put into a state of wonder, gazing at the bursts of light in awe as the being only stared. It made no movements nor breaths, allowing you to take in the amazement of your surroundings.
"Am I dead?" you asked, finally gaining the courage to voice the most prevalent question in your mind.
"You are in the world between worlds, child. Not dead yet not alive within the realm of your creation," they answered with not a hint of emotion.
You couldn't hide the aghast sob that left your lips at his revelation, your mind reeling. You knew what happened for you to wake here. You drank from a cup tainted with poison that caused your limbs to freeze and your brain to wave, but who did it was unknown. The only picture within your mind was a silhouette of a figure with short, mousy hair and a slouched posture, supporting their weight on something.
You knew who they were. You felt it in your bones, but your mind refused to let you see. Was that your psyche subconsciously trying to protect you, or did the poison affect your memory?
"I don't want to die! What did I do to deserve this?" you wept with blurred vision, looking at the unmoving being before you.
You felt them sigh, though they did not move, their chest not indicating if they had lungs. "New born babes should not be taken from the world before they can sin, yet they are."
An involuntary grimace pulled your face as you licked the briny water from your lips. The world was cruel and uncaring. It took children from mothers before they were ready and kind people into places of darkness. Life was bleak and hopeless and full of negativity. At times, you wondered if there was a point to living when life would always end the same—breathing, eating, fighting, and suffering until you died and were forgotten a hundred years from now.
"I know who you are," you spat, tongue thick as you swallowed tears. "You are a callus and heartless being who takes those undeserving while displaying yourself in a cloak of self-righteousness."
They did not seem angry about what you said and tilted their head in response, examining you like one of Helaena's pinned insects. Its unseen stare unnerved you, appearing like a statue you never prayed to within the Sept. Anger began to well in the place of your unease at their indifference, taking purposeful strides to them before your body was abruptly taken aback, nearly tripping over your feet.
"I am neither good nor evil, simply I am, and I have come to take what is mine."
It raised the same arm that stroked your cheek and pointed at you, causing panic to grip your chest as the shrouded hands shoved you to the ground, air knocking from your lungs. You struggled against them, the whites of your eyes visible as your arms and legs flailed in their vice-like grip. The being came closer, towering over your writhing form until you could see what hid underneath the obsidian hood.
A face not of this world looked down at you, half human and inhuman, alive yet dead. It was too much for your mind to comprehend as you released a scream, kicking your limbs as you desperately tried to escape from whatever fate awaited you.
The hands pulled at your hair, keeping your head down and unable to see the face of the Stranger any longer.
"No! No, please! I don't want to die!" you beseeched, throat raw from tears and screams as your wide-eyed stare found the Stranger at your feet once more.
"I was there in the dark when you spilled your first blood and I have come to take what is mine—one soul. No less," they repeated in an amalgamation of different tones. Your heart broke for the loss not only of life but of what might be.
The Stranger's accusing finger continued to point not at you but at your stomach, your misty stare flickering from yourself to them.
You knew what was to come next. They would rip your heart out before your very eyes, crushing your life source within the secular realm and the divine. You would never wake again, never feel the sun flush your skin or the wind whipping your cheeks on dragon back. Aegon would revert to his old ways of whoring, gambling, and drinking himself into unconsciousness, a crown forced on his head as the realm plunged into war and your kin were slaughtered. Every sacrifice would be for not all due to one simple drink.
Refusing to resign to your fate, you thrashed and screamed in failed attempts at breaking free. There was no escape to this realm—no beginning or end in the vast darkness. There was only you, these unseen hands pulling you into submission, and the Stranger, his digit still raised and pointed.
"What have I done to deserve this?" you wailed, feeling your limbs locked at the joints. "I-I know I was not a devoted follower of the Faith and have sinned, but I repent. I'll pay penance to the Seven each day forth from now on. I'll attend services in the Grand Sept. I'll-I'll refrain from any vices you so wish. Just let me live!"
Your bargaining with the faceless being went unheard, his arm slowly falling to its side as you felt the hidden fingers slither across your abdomen, tearing your nightgown down the middle. Your eyes grew wide with horror, attempting to pry them away with panicked movements only to be thwarted by the others pushing your limbs into the ground.
"Stop!" you screamed, voice cracking as your neck was whipped back, head cracking onto the ground as your vision flashed.
Though you couldn't see them, you could feel them. Their digits indented into your malleable flesh as it broke under pressure, blood seeping from the gashes as a searing pain tore like a thousand cuts of a hot blade through your skin. Blood poured from your stomach and down your sides, soaking your tattered porcelain nightgown into a stained crimson. Wailing in agony, your throat grew sore, limbs twisting and contorted into inhuman positions as you gave under their ravenous scratching.
"Blessed be you, the daughter of the Mother bound to suffer eternal through the sins of your father committed long before your conception," the Stranger prayed, words carrying over your cries. "Blessed be your whore mother, tired and angry, waiting with bated breath on a ferry that will never move again. Blessed be the children. Each and every one who have come to know their god through some senseless act of violence."
The exposed image of your essence caused your heart to become faint, the torment fading into the back of your mind as your vision fluttered and your head became light. It was a small mercy in the ruthless death that you could no longer feel the torture of your organs torn into, limbs twitching in subconscious reflexes.
"Blessed be you, girl, promised to me by a man who can only feel hatred and contempt towards you."
The squelching of your insides was sickening as silent tears leaked down your temples, confused as to how you were still alive. No human could survive being disemboweled; the blood loss alone would kill the most robust of men, yet the invisible beings continued to burrow into your insides, seeming as if in search of something.
The Stranger did not move from its place at your feet, observing as your intestines glistened in the twinkling lights of the void.
You felt betrayed by them and those who preached that the Stranger was not a being of good or evil. They were supposed to guide you into the afterlife, not watch as beings threw your organs to the side. They lied. No being would stand there and allow a daughter of the Mother to have her insides turned out. You never feared the Stranger yourself. Death was inevitable, but now you understand why followers of the Seven feared the Stranger.
Cries that were higher pitched than yours yanked you into reality, a single thread pulling your gaze back to your stomach as a babe covered in crimson, glistening with your essence, was ripped from your womb. Confusion, fear, surprise, and desperation surged through you, attempting to pry yourself from your confines again. The cord connecting the child to you still pulsed with blood through the purple and blue veins as it was taken and placed into the hands of the Stranger.
"What are you doing?" you questioned with a thick tone, panic seizing your limbs as you broke from their unseen grip. 
That was yours—something you made solely of your labor, and they were taking it from you. It belonged to you!
You desperately yanked at the fleshy cord still connecting you to your child, the babe's shriek piercing your ears and into your heart. "Please, give it back!" you sobbed, reaching out again only to be shoved. "No! No, please! Please give me back my child! They are mine! They don't deserve this."
You were unsure of what came over you. You had never met this creature before, though it was born of your flesh and blood; you did not want them taken. An instinct to protect the life of something so fragile and innocent lay dormant within your body, coming to fruition. The thought of sacrificing yourself in the babe's place nearly slipped off your tongue, but a sudden light blinded you, pushing the cries of your kin to fade as your eyes burned.
When you came to, you were no longer in an infinite void. Instead, within your chambers, thick, fragrant smoke choked your lungs as the same searing agony from before tore through you. Aegon stood over your writhing form, and his brows arched with concern as he saw your sheets become scarlet.
You stared at him, his eyes glassy and filled with an exhausted longing, as he rushed to your side, grasping your slick palm. "You're alive!" he exclaimed, unable to think clearly through his shock. "You're alive."
Unable to speak, you nodded, sweat and tears dampening your face as another wave of pain knotted within your lower back, forcing a scream. Aegon's violet eyes danced over you, seeing your blood now spread onto your top blanket as his cheeks became devoid of color.
An array of thoughts swirled within his mind like a maelstrom at sea, swiftly lifting the sheet away as he saw the crimson between your legs. His first instinct was to believe that, somehow, the assassin had returned underneath his watchful gaze, paranoia seizing his chest. But Aegon, still confused as to what was happening, gripped your hand impossibly tighter, causing a groan that rumbled in your lungs.
"The Maester," you managed to breathe through gritted teeth. "Get the Maester, Aegon."
He paused for a moment too long, and another cramp went through you, wailing with a clenched jaw and shut eyes as your body arched in pain. The prince did not need to be told twice as he watched the woman he loved beg the Gods for mercy, swiftly exiting your room as he ran to Orwyle's chambers, your cries becoming distant within the pale red stone walls.
The man in question opened the door with tired eyes to the Prince's incessant pounding. He did not need him to explain. He knew it had something to do with you as he hastily gathered supplies and the seven-pointed star necklace on his person. What Orwyle did not expect to see when he entered your humid chambers were you on all fours, grunting and straining with blood-soaked hands and bedclothes, sweat discoloring your once pristine nightdress.
He went quickly into action, ordering Aegon to summon your maids as he stood there listlessly, unable to comprehend the urgent words over the sounds of your shrieks. Aegon was unsure when he finally summoned Jeyne and Fiora, the pair looking perplexed before spotting their Lady. Both quickly went into action, following Maester Orwyle's instructions, scattering in and out of your chambers with different items.
Aegon could not think as he observed the events unfold before him. It was all too much. He couldn't process the abrupt chain of events. One moment, you were laying there, breaths barely audible, now suddenly panting and sobbing for an end he was not sure he wanted to see. Aegon did not know if this was an effect of the poison as his distant eyes met yours, lips mouthing something he strained to hear. He could not bear to lose you. He finally had love within his grasp after years of yearning only for it to be promptly taken away before properly basking in its warmth.
Aegon, who was so focused on the end of something, could not see the future before him, staring with violet-rimmed pupils within thick lashes, begging him to bring comfort. Finally, he could hear you, a rush of sounds and voices barraging his senses as you strained a grunt for him to come near.
You took his fist in yours, the other clutching the footboard as sweat ran down your neck. It felt as if your head was about to burst from your skull with each contraction, panting like an exerted animal.
"It's almost over now, Princess. You just need to pass the biggest part," encouraged Jeyne, a soothing maternal presence in a place that lacked it. "Come now. In through your nose and push out your mouth."
Nodding fervently, you did as told, inhaling deeply and growling with downward force, bringing your arm to wrap around Aegon for support. You needed the closeness and comfort a loved one brought as you went through this traumatic event.
Tears from above sprinkled on your damp hair. Streaks of wetness lined Aegon's cheeks as much as they did yours as another cramp rolled through you.
"What's happening?" he whispered against your cheek, breath uncomfortably hot.
Surprise dawned on your features as the pain ebbed for a merciful moment, resting on your knees. Your free hand grasped his silver roots in support as your other led Aegon down to your stomach, unable to speak. He stared with wrinkled brows and glassy purple eyes as you allowed him to apply pressure there. You need not tell him the reason in words as he glanced down. It could only be one thing.
"You are with child?" he questioned softly, tenderly stroking the area with his thumb.
You nodded, the cramps rising and commanding your body to gush more gelatinous blood. "I saw her. She was right there and they took her from me. Straight from my womb as she wailed."
"Who? Who took her from you?" he asked, free head tangling within your matted hair as you rested your forehead against his.
"The Stranger."
Aegon believed this to be the ramblings of someone in labor, the blood loss not helping to have a clear mind.
The death of a child, whether in this realm or within the womb, hurts immeasurably. The loss of something you could see and touch, something you formed a connection with, brought immense suffering to you and many of those around you, but it wasn't grief to bear alone. Having a life stolen from inside you created feelings of failure and doubts about your body's natural capabilities in isolation, morphing into self-blame and loathing of what could have been if only you were different.
But it was not your fault, not in this or any other sense. Your body did its natural process of protecting you, and even though you did not meet the child in its complete form, there was still a connection to mourn.
So deep within your thoughts, you did not hear the opening of oak doors, two pairs of footfalls storming into the room as your support was suddenly ripped away. Your fists balled into the crumpled sheets in compensation. Aegon struggled in Ser Criston's ironclad grip on his collar as you felt the sudden urge to push, push, push.
"Yes, Princess, yes! Keep going, more is coming out! You're almost finished," Fiora cheered, kneeling in Aegon's place as she clasped her fists around yours.
"Bring him back! I want Aegon!" you shouted. "I need him, please!"
At your cries, the Prince felt panic begin to take root, a terror and desperation to get to you that was so visceral that he did the only thing he could. Aegon growled and bit down on the fleshy part of Ser Criston's palm that met his thumb and forefinger, breaking the skin as blood stained his lips scarlet. The knight howled in pain, releasing the Prince on instinct as he attempted to return, only to have his mother stand in the way.
"Aegon, you needn't worry about her now. She is in capable hands," Alicent attempted to placate, her voice as gentle and maternal as when he was a child.
He paid no mind to her false coos and shoved the Queen out of his way, uncaring as she landed into a corner of furniture that stabbed her side. Ser Criston swiftly regained his composure at his Lady's shriek, once again grabbing Aegon by the fabric of his tunic and towards the exit.
"She is your Queen and mother! How dare you lay hands on her!" Criston admonished and struck the Prince with an armored grip upside his head as if he were no more than an insolent mutt.
You protested the action, begging the Queen, Ser Criston, the Maester, or anyone who would hear your pleas to bring Aegon back to you, but no one listened. The Queen was the highest authority in the room. Her word was law, and you were nothing but a lowly bastard dressed in fancy clothes and titles left without regard.
"Mother! Please, don't do this. She's with child!" the Prince beseeched, unruly locks of unkempt silver strewn across his pale face.
"Not anymore," Ser Criston jeered as his vision met the blood-stained sheets, dragging a raging Aegon away.
Alicent stood, righting herself and smoothing the fabric of her peridot gown with jeweled fingers. "You do not have the right to make such demands, Aegon. Leave at once. We shall discuss this later."
She couldn't stand to look at him, the shame of everything weighing heavier than all man's sins, as Alicent turned her brown orbs away from her son. He had sired bastards before, as had many Targaryen men, but one within his own house, with another bastard no less, was too much for the Queen's mind to comprehend.
The doors to your chambers slammed shut, rattling your bones as sobs of defeat tore through your throat. Your body did not allow you to mourn Aegon's absence, focusing your efforts as your muscles forcefully contracted, expelling the last of the thick matter out of your womb and onto the bedclothes. Fiora stroked your sweat-knotted hair as the pain subsided into dull cramps, reminding you of a particularly rough moon's blood, lungs slowly inhaling as your body relaxed.
Maester Orwyle began dabbing at your temples and neck as you sat, breathing heavily through your nose. "You did well, my lady," he praised quietly, glancing over his shoulder to Alicent, who stood staring into the hearth with her thumb in her mouth.
You sighed in acknowledgment, eyes briefly shutting as your fury gave you the energy to speak. "You are a cruel woman, Alicent." Your words were a dagger straight to her heart as you wiped your stained hands on your nightgown.
She turned to you and quickly placed her arms at her side, trying to put on an air of pomp that the situation did not need. "Tis hardly proper for a man to witness the pains of a miscarriage," she answered as if rehearsed.
"Proper?" you asked rhetorically. "I was dying and all you cared about was fucking propriety?" you snarled, rising to your knees with a wince, nerves alight.
The Queen did not dare say more, her conscience gnawing at the back of her mind like her teeth to her lip. "I know this was your doing," you spat, allowing Jeyne to help you onto your plush settee as the Maester began to clean your stained thighs.
The two women who had been with you since the moment you were forced to call the Red Keep a home gathered your soiled linens, stripping your bed without needing to be told. The sight brought warmth to your heart you had thought died moments ago. Through the brief time of Ser Dalton Greyjoy's presence to dutifully covering marks left behind from stolen moments with Aegon, Jeyne and Fiora's loyalty did not waver. Most maids would be eager to pass on gossip and rumors among the nobility for a chance at some coin. Or perhaps to provide themselves some entertainment in their less fortunate lives, but your two maidservants did not.
You were overwhelmed by a sudden gratefulness for them, longing to bring them into your embrace to sing praises and shout thank yous, but the Queen's looming presence forbade it. There was uncertainty about why she was here. Undoubtedly, the same woman who all but told you to leave King's Landing was not concerned for your well-being. You were hardly but an insect pestering her with your annoying, buzzing wings.
"Is it not enough that you've murdered the last remaining blood of my mother? Now you must take the life of my unborn child," you grunted, adjusting your position on the plush, emerald cushions as nausea struck through your core.
The Queen gasped, and everyone in the room looked weary, certain they were not supposed to hear this. "I would do no such thing, Princess," Alicent rebutted with a horror-stricken expression. "You are being unreasonable. 'Twas whoever snuck into your chambers and poisoned you that did this! Do not blame me for your misfortune."
A hollow laugh escaped your chest at her words, swallowing the bile that rose with the lingering cramps. "Oh, but how fortunate for you," you replied bitterly, the jab tasting acrid on your tongue. You wanted her to leave, to let you grieve the loss of a future you would never know, but she refused, implanting herself into the lives of others to ensure her gains were met. "Have I not earned my place here? Have I not sacrificed enough?"
"You know nothing of sacrifice," Alicent rejected quickly, snapping her avoidant gaze to yours.
"Don't I?" you chortled. The laughter sent your stomach into knots, but you pressed on, nudging Maester Orwyle away to stand upright, much to his concern. "Have I not done what you commanded of me? Kept your son from whoring and drinking himself to death on the streets of Flea Bottom? Do you remember the day you wrote to me? How you implored me to come to King's Landing and herd your son back to the Keep?" you sneered, tears of frustration and sadness welling in your puffy, bloodshot eyes.
No matter how desperately you wished to do so, you would not break in front of the Queen, heart empty as you spoke, blood trickling down your leg. "I have done what you asked and more. I've made Aegon understand the responsibility of his birth. He does not gamble or whore, gluttony is no longer a vice. He's become a better husband, brother, and father. He is everything you want him to be because of me!" Your voice wavered, barely containing a gag that pulled your lip muscles, threatening to become something more.
Realization struck you as you observed the Queen stand underneath your rage. All your life, you have served others to attain recognition in their eyes, whether to prove yourself competent or receive the love and acceptance every child craved. With your father, desperately eager to please him, to show him and all others that you were not the baseborn bastard daughter of a whore---that you could hold your own and make a name for yourself. Your desperation to prove yourself would be your downfall, but no longer would you allow yourself to be the subject of your insecurities. Worth was not dictated by what you did for others but by what you thought of yourself.
"Now that I no longer serve to further your schemes of putting Aegon on the throne, you see it fit to discard me as if I am nothing but a piece thrown about the board, sacrificed to achieve victory." Your anger was palpable, striking the Queen into her soul without physical action.
Alicent inhaled sharply, glancing at your maids and the Maester, who had all seemed to have halted their tasks. Your words were a mirror to her as anxiety began to flutter within her gut underneath so many stares. Hands once primly placed at her side were now picking at the skin of one another, a nervous tick she never broke. She did not know these people. She did not trust them not to run to the nearest lord, who was desperate for Rhaenyra's favor with word of treachery.
"What you claim is treason and not from a sound mind," she protested, her voice velvet. The Queen knew that if she spent a moment longer discussing secrets that had been unsaid, they would finally surface to harm the steps made to plant Aegon on the throne.
You opened your mouth to speak once more, but Alicent's smooth voice was quick to interject.
"Maester, I believe the Princess has gone into hysteria due to the poison. She is not thinking clearly."
You began to argue, but the feeling of nausea overcame you, and you quickly stumbled to your chamber pot as the little contents of your stomach exited. Fiora and Jeyne rushed to your side, holding your tangled strands from your face as the other rubbed soothing circles across your lower back.
"Her hysteria is dangerous to herself and those around her, Maester. I believe milk of the poppy will numb her mind enough until she is well again," Alicent said with pursed lips, staring down at your hunched back from under her nose.
Orwyle blanched, understanding that this was not a suggestion but a request. Who was he to deny the Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms? "Your thoughtfulness for the Princess moves me deeply, your grace. However, any attempt to sedate her now would put her at more unneeded risk. She has lost far too much blood, and I must monitor her health."
The Queen's jaw clenched, teeth grinding at the man's tenacity. What did you have that gave people such a steadfast honor to protect you? Unlike her, you could not give them titles, land, or money in compensation. She was the Queen. They were supposed to serve her and bend to her will. Yet, they tended to your well-being with unyielding devotion, even in the face of one of Westeros's most influential people. Why did they not stand with her? Did a Queen not offer more than a bastard? Why not her? 
Why not me? Why not me? Why not me?
Envy ran hot through her veins at the thought. 
The three servants knew what this was—an attempt to control the situation and narrative, to prove that Queen Alicent would remain the all-encompassing figure of power and dominance, not some young, pretty bastard girl who bewitched all those around her.
"I shall not allow another danger to lurk about my home, especially one that deceives. We already have her assassin to worry about." She ignored your scoff, her words velvet but holding an icy undertone.
When Maester Orwyle did not move, Alicent shifted, palms conjoined just below her heart as she raised a manicured brow. "Do it Maester or I will have my guards do it for you."
He hesitated again, gaze flickering to your slouched one leaning onto your ladies for support. You gave him a solemn nod, conveying with a single look that you would not resist. If this would get Alicent to leave the four of you alone and allow you to mourn peacefully... so be it. It would be better for you and them. You would not have to think about what happened for at least a little longer, and perhaps the pain would be gone when you woke, and your beloved Prince would be at your side once more. But hope was a double-edged sword. Each side was as sharp and brutal as the other and cut equally profoundly.
***
The air was cold on Dragonstone, with a salty bite stinging Prince Daemon's flushed cheeks as he stood on a brimstone balcony overlooking where Blackwater Bay met the Narrow Sea. The moons spent without his daughter chipped at his war-hardened soul, revealing the center he kept tucked away, though many did not see it.
People believed Daemon to be a cruel, calculating man deserving of the title "Rogue Prince." And while they were not wrong, it did not mean that the same sentiment traveled to the treatment of his family. He was devoted to his wife, stepsons, and true-born children, tending to them as a shepherd would his flock. He no longer cared for the war in the Stepstones or any battle, focusing his efforts on the future, a future for his family that seemed to grow more uncertain as his brother's health declined.
While he did feel guilt knock at his hollow chest when he thought about his eldest daughter, the life she was born into, the life she was kept from and forced to live, he did not have regrets. Daemon would, a thousand times over, accept you into his heart.
You were a part of him he did not know was missing, fitting so perfectly into his cracked soul that not even Rhaenyra's love could mend. You are as much of his blood as the young Aegon, Viserys, and the babe that grew stronger every passing day within his wife's womb. There was a special connection between the two of you that only a father of a girl could comprehend. He now understood why his brother passed him in favor of Rhaenyra becoming heir, for if he had the choice, you would serve to inherit all he had.
Daemon longed to have you at his side again, listening intently to whatever thoughts, happenings, and plans you had. The council meetings around the Painted Table grew increasingly irksome as he patiently awaited your next raven. Rhaenyra brought Jace along to more than one gathering with the pompous lords. Daemon admired the boy's fire and tenacity, yet he always seemed to lack the mature awareness you seemed to possess—no doubt a byproduct of your vastly different upbringings.
It had been a sennight since your last word, the longest Daemon had ever waited, and he grew antsy with each passing hour. He found himself pacing the sandy beaches across the island, climbing the same mountains and hills he forced you to in training. Memories were what he felt he had left of you now and that of the written word.
"My love."
He heard his wife's tender voice calling him inside. "You will hear from her soon. I know it."
Rhaenyra's soft hand found Daemon's, bringing it to the growing bump underneath her Myrish lace dress. The notion grounded him as much as her as they pressed their foreheads together, sharing a kiss full of all the longing and melancholy he kept hidden within himself.
It was not until late evening, as he and his wife retired to their chambers for rest, that a footman knocked, revealing a single piece of parchment atop a bronze platter. Daemon's heart leaped for joy, knowing it could only be one thing, and he hastily tore at the three-headed dragon seal.
Rhaenyra allowed her husband to read in silence, brushing out her long, snowy hair as she hummed a tune her late mother used to sing, absentmindedly stroking the life tucked below her breast. When her task was done, and she had secured herself within her thick nightdress, she turned to Daemon, his hunched spine facing her over their shared writing desk.
"What news does she have, my darling?" Rhaenyra sang, combing a fragrant oil through her strands. She prodded him further at his silence, eager to know what her chosen daughter said. "Has another lord insulted her again? You mustn't worry about it like last time. She is more than capable of defending herself."
Daemon did not answer, a strained, choked sound that his wife had never heard before emitting from his throat. Rhaenyra turned, swiftly walking to him as she smoothed a palm down the crown of his head to his nape. "Love?"
"She's dying."
"What?" Rhaenyra stammered, taking a step back.
"She was poisoned. The Greens have obstructed all communications with Dragonstone, and the sender is unsure if she will be alive by the time I read this," he answered, paper trembling.
The shock paralyzed all rationality. Rhaenyra didn't know what to think or feel. "Who sent this to you?" she ardently asked. The world around her became fuzzy, and her head went light as she braced herself against the wooden desk.
Daemon flipped the parchment over, searching for any indication of who the sender could be, but found none. "It has the royal seal, yet there is no signage."
His wife had no answer, dread beginning to take hold of her chest as tears collected in her amethyst eyes. A sob escaped Rhaenyra. The pain, the suffering you must have been through, was enough to make her faint, knees buckling as she struggled to stay upright—her poor child. Poor perzītsos dampened until they snuffed out her flame.
Daemon was lost within the confines of his mind. Fear, betrayal, sadness, and anger coursed through him, roaring the dragon blood to life in his veins. 
He felt powerless living on an island away from the daughter he loved, unable to fulfill his role as father and protector. It was a failure on his part not to see what the Hightowers could do. Their schemes and treachery reached from King's Landing to Oldtown, an ancient family with roots among the elites of Westeros. There was a reason they held onto power for so long, and it was not by allowing one unexpected person to throw them awry.
Swiftly, Daemon stood, throwing the sturdy wooden chair behind him with the force of his legs. He gripped the letter with an iron fist, wrinkling the parchment under pressure as he went for the door.
"Daemon," Rhaenyra called, struggling to steady her breath. "Where are you heading?"
The Rogue Prince paused just before the exit, turning on his heel to face his wife, crumpled paper raised high in his hand.
"To burn that green bitch and her cunt father," he proclaimed, a fire within his voice that assured he would keep his word. "They will pay for what they have done to our daughter." 
Rhaenyra understood that convincing him otherwise was futile, and deep down, she didn't want to. Despite not being her biological child, she held you in her heart as her own. She wouldn't stand in the way of Daemon's quest for retribution, knowing that he would spare no effort if their roles reversed. With a brief nod, she left him and settled into a cushioned chair.
Daemon stormed through the brimstone halls of Dragonstone, leather riding boots echoing his every step. He had only one goal, one in which he had no care for the consequences of as he reached the cave where his ride was housed. The Rogue Prince climbed the ropes of Caraxes as the Keepers struggled to untether the beast, mounting atop his dragon and fastening the chains in the saddle.
The Blood Wyrm chirped with a puff of smoke through its nostrils as Daemon snapped the reins, sending the dragon forward and out of the cave. He did not care as the frigid wind cracked like whips against his exposed skin, flying higher—faster to his destination, death and destruction trailing behind beating crimson wings. His daughter would be avenged even if it meant the whole Keep would be nothing but ash and bone by sunset.
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Masterlist of Series
Daddy's on his way, babies! Are we excited? I know I am! I hope this chapter wasn't too sad for y'all. I've never had a miscarriage before or have been pregnant. I wanted to make the most accurate portrayal by talking with people I know who have had one or been pregnant. I apologize if I've offended or triggered anyone with what I wrote. Thank you again for your understanding and patience while waiting for these updates. Life has been chaotic!
Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @prettywhenicry4, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @somemydayy, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @sunfyresrider, @heavenly1927, @hjgdhghoe, @im-sidney, @aurorathi, @marihoneywk, @xitsemm, @justbelljust, @qardasngan
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rafeism · 4 hours
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Into You
Modern!Aegon Targaryen x Reader (Cam Girl AU)
TW: camming, profanity, masturbation 18+ MDNI
WC: 1,682
A/N: omg this is my first time posting Aeg on this blog. That trailer has me in my (horny) feels … this will have at least one more part!
You didn't view camming as a serious endeavor; it was simply a way to earn additional income and make sure you could cover your rent each month. Alongside your job at the nearby coffee shop, you were also completing your second year at King's Landing University. You shared a small apartment on the outskirts of the city with your best friend, Helaena. Her family came from money, but you wouldn’t know it. She was a humble as they come. She worked a regular job just like you did.
It was around 6:30 on Friday night when she rapped at your bedroom door.
“Yeah, Hel? Come on in.”
“I’m getting ready to leave,” she said as she frowned at you, “you’re positive you don’t want to come out? I’m sure Aemond or Jace will buy you a drink!” She said as she wiggled her eyebrows.
“As much as I would love to, I’ll have to pass. I’m loaded with homework.”
“Alright fine” she huffed, “whatever you say! If I’m not home by 1 AM, someone’s drugged me and you need to come looking for me.”
Helaena didn’t go out often, or without you but you needed some extra cash and figured tonight would be a perfect opportunity to get on cam. Your best friend kind of knew about your little side hustle, but you still chose to do it when she wasn’t home. She didn’t need to be subjected to that.
You were eager to log on tonight to show off the brand new lingerie you had just purchased. Being that you weren’t able to get online often, you made sure to go above and beyond for your subscribers when you did. It was a special occasion each time you logged on.
Your new lingerie was gorgeous. A deep emerald green ensemble. A lacy push-up bra, adorned with tiny bows and delicate straps with a pair of lace panties that left little to the imagination. Around your leg was a garter encrusted with tiny rhinestones and a pair of thigh high stockings that hugged the meaty flesh of your thighs perfectly. Helaena had joked when you opened it that you must have bought it for her, deeming it “the perfect shade of Hightower green.”
After making yourself some dinner and taking an everything shower that took forever, it was finally time to log on.
“Hey guys! Little bit of a long time, no see,” you begin to say into the camera, “did you miss me?” You ask, “because I’ve sure missed you!”
lonewolf commented: gorgeous as ever
fleabottomfloozy commented: missed you so much baby
You had regular subscribers and a few new ones every now again on the nights where the website had more traffic than usual, Friday’s and Saturday’s mostly. Tonight was like any other night, a few new names here and there but one in particular caught your eye.
tequilasunfyre has entered the chat. You were caught off guard. Sunfyre. Why was that ringing a bell? It was familiar, but where did you know it from?
It was as if a lightbulb went off in your head, your eyes widened as you made the connection: Sunfyre is the name of Aegon’s golden retriever. Aegon Targaryen. Helaena’s brother.
lonewolf left a comment: is this a new set? love it xx
unbroken_33 left a comment: ur so sexy
tequilasunfyre left a comment: love the green
Your could feel your cheeks heat up at his compliment as a smirk formed on your face. Of course he does, runs in the family.
Hello? Family? Hel’s brother. You begin to panic a bit internally, but you’ve got a show to put on, you need to focus. You never show your face and he doesn’t really know you that well. He won’t know it’s you.
“Oh, this?” You ask seductively, trying to raise the octave of your voice just a little higher out of paranoia. Hoping that Aegon wouldn’t be able to recognize it, if he hadn’t already. You tugged on the flimsy material of the lacy panties, letting it slap back against the skin of your hipbone.
tequilasunfyre left a comment: yeah … U should take them off ;)
Normally, you would do so without hesitation. It’s what you’re on here to do: Get naked and touch yourself for strangers. But Aegon wasn’t a stranger. He was Helaena’s brother.
luckylannister left a comment: Not for free, dumbass. Gotta tip her for stuff like that.
Tips were encouraged but not always necessary. Sometimes you were horny enough to want to get off on camera without being tipped individually by viewers… but they didn’t need to know that.
luckylannister tipped you $100
fleabottomfloozy tipped you $150
tequilasunfyre tipped you $200
Damn.
This entire situation was wrong. You should end the livestream right now. Come up with an excuse, promise you’ll make it up to your viewers next time and block his account from accessing your page — but for some reason that not even you are sure of, you don’t.
“Eager are we?” You giggle, flashing a sweet smile at the camera, biting down on your lower lip.
“Let’s start out slow, boys, hmm?” You ask as you begin to rub your palms over your tits and squeeze them gently before you run your hands down your stomach. You turn around so your ass is facing the camera, bending over slightly, looking over your shoulder at the tiny lense. You loop two fingers through the band of the garter on your thigh and take it off slowly, teasingly tossing it at the camera.
unbroken_33 tipped you $250
“Thanks so much for the tips, you guys. It is so sweet of you. I don’t deserve you!” You giggle.
luckylannister left a comment: no, we don’t deserve U
lonewolf left a comment: we are unworthy!!!
Next, you slowly unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor. You slowly start to jiggle your breasts, making sure to capture every movement on camera. You run your hands over your chest, teasing at your nipples until they become hard. As you continue, a wave of excitement crashes over you, and you know the viewers can see it too. You make sure to give them a close-up view of your bouncing tits.
fleabottomfloozy commented: Gods, they’re perfect
lonewolf left a comment: Mommy? Sorry. Mommy?
unbroken_33 tipped you $300
tequilasunfyre tipped you $400
“Oh wow,” you chirp, “thank you! You guys are too sweet to me. God’s, just the thought of it is turning me on,” you drawl.
luckylannister left a comment: no, no… thank u!!!
unbroken_33 left a comment: yeah? You’re wet, huh baby?
“Yeah, I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter… fuck,” you moaned out.
tequilasunfyre tipped you $600
Oh? Fuck.
“You guys wanna see?”
Without letting any of them answer, you drag your panties down your legs. Giving the webcam a clear view of your sopping wet cunt. You look up, directly into the camera as you begin to run a finger over your pussy lips before spreading them apart. Slowly, you push two fingers inside of yourself.
tequilasunfyre left a comment: you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.
Feeling flustered at his words, you let out a moan uncontrollably.
“Mmm, you think so baby?” You purr as you slide your fingers in and out, picking up the pace quickly.
tequilasunfyre left a comment: oh hell yeah
You knew Aegon got around, you heard plenty of stories from Helaena… so if he was being sincere, you would gladly accept the compliment.
You couldfeel your orgasm building already, and you know it's going to be a good one. You close your eyes as the pleasure builds within you. Your fingers move even faster now, in and out of your wet pussy.
“Oh my Gods,” you moan, “I think I’m gonna cum already. Do you guys want me to cum for you?”
fleabottomfloozy left a comment: fuck yes, baby. make that tight little pussy cum
lonewolf left a comment: what he said!! ^^^
tequilasunfyre left a comment: I’m gonna cum at the thought of it, baby.
For a moment you imagine Aegon pumping his cock to the thought of you. His tip swollen and leaking pre-cum. The thought of him moaning your name nearly sends you over the edge.
You can feel your clit throbbing, and you know it won't be long now. You moan loudly, making sure to make direct eye contact with the camera as your orgasm hits you hard. Your body shakes with pleasure as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you.
Lifting your fingers up to the camera, your arousal glistening even in the dim light of your room.
“See what you guys do to me? Ugh, so fucking sexy. I love ya! Thanks so much for watching, I’ll see you babes next time, okay? Bye bye!” You say before turning the camera off, letting out a deep sigh. That was definitely…. Something.
You don’t typically log out right away after each livestream. You usually wait and see if any of your subscribers have any other requests. Whether it be custom photos, videos or completely private sessions.
Right as you are going to log out for the evening, you hear a notification.
tequilasunfyre sent a message request
Your heart nearly bursts out of your chest at the sight of it, you accept immediately.
“Hey.” Was all the message read.
“Hey, baby!” you quickly type back, “did you enjoy the show tonight? Is there anything I can help you with?”
It takes a minute but he finally replies, “Oh yeah definitely. Ur hot as fuckkk, lol. I was wondering how much you’ll charge for a private session?”
“Depends what you want, but typically around $900-$1000.”
“I can do that. Can you get on tonight?”
You look over at the clock, 12:45 A.M. You were expecting Helaena any minute now.
“Unfortunately, no. I can’t tonight. If you’re still up for it tomorrow, I’m all yours!”
Your mind is all over the place. You should want him to decline your offer.
“It’s a date.”
What were you getting yourself into?
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cruciomee · 17 hours
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A Father's Rage
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This is a complementary piece for A Mother’s Sorrow
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thatscruelsummer · 3 days
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Queen Alicent Hightower and her first son Aegon Targaryen.
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nyx-does-stuff · 2 days
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Posted this on my twt @sxirendoestuff and I used that painting as a reference for Alicent and Aegon cos it made me think of them :3
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fragileheartbeats · 11 hours
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I have been thinking about something for a while now. what if aegon 2 was a bit like tywin lannister?
Ok I'm kind of lost for words because first, this question is interesting but stupid and funny at the same time. Second, idk why you're asking me this, I mean yes he's my favorite character but there are people who obviously understand his character more like @very-straight-blog but since you asked this I try my best to answer you.
First of all Tywin was a proud man, he was proud that he was a lion. So Aegon would be proud of his Targaryen blood too. Instead of his short, greasy hair, he would have long and shine hair because it is a sign of his Valyrian blood (he would take good care of his hair, he may even braid it). He would probably saw himself more as a Targaryen than a Hightower. And instead of green, he would dress in red, black, silver and gold. He will also have a more muscular body because of the practice of swordsmanship and etc. And instead of teary eyes, he would have half lidded eyes and a sharp gaze.
He would saw himself as heir, unlike Aegon in the book that took the throne so he can protect his family and unlike him in the show that was a coward and wanted to escape. He wouldn't care what he's father said. Because when his father dies, his words have no value anymore.
He probably would admired his father, but on the other hand, he would saw his father as weak and annoying. He also would saw Rhaenyra as a foolish and spoiled woman (it was good for him tho, because in his mind, she would destroys herself).
When he was crowned king, he hold his head high, his eyes shine and a proud smile on his face.
he would be characterized by his strategic mind, ruthlessness, and a pragmatic approach to governance. This version of Aegon would be more calculated, less impulsive, and likely more effective in securing alliances and managing the realm. His cruelty, amplified beyond Tywin's, would instill fear among his enemies and even his allies.
From his birth, Aegon would be groomed for leadership, displaying a keen understanding of politics and warfare from a young age. His education under a Tywin-like mindset would emphasize the importance of power, control, and the necessity of making hard decisions for the greater good of the realm, albeit through a more cynical lens.
A more intelligent and cunning Aegon would approach the conflict with Rhaenyra with a sharper strategy. He would likely seek to undermine her support base, using espionage, strategic marriages (he would force his brothers to take a wife, or even promise his own children), and alliances to weaken her position before their forces met in battle. His plans would be meticulous, aiming to avoid unnecessary losses and to capitalize on any mistake made by Rhaenyra's faction. For example he would use any chance to point the obvious fact that her children are bastard.
He would also treat Helaena better, And he would listened carefully to her words and prophecies and would take care of her and try to have as many children with her as possible. He may even marry other women from other powerful houses, not only does this increase his allies, but he can have more heirs, and since each child gets a dragon, he can also have more dragons.
As a king, Aegon's rule would be marked by his strategic governance, focusing on strengthening the realm's central authority. However, his cruelty and ruthlessness could lead to rebellion and unrest. His intelligence would allow him to navigate these challenges with a degree of success, but his brutality might leave the realm in a state of fear and resentment.
Aegon's legacy would be complex. While some might remember him as a strong ruler who maintained the integrity of the Seven Kingdoms, others would recall his reign as a dark period marked by fear and tyranny. His nickname might reflect his dual nature, perhaps something like "Aegon the Iron," symbolizing both his strength and his unyielding cruelty.
Given his strategic mind, Aegon might be able to secure his throne for a longer period than in the original narrative. However, his cruelty could also lead to plots against his life. Assuming he could suppress major rebellions, his reign might last significantly longer, potentially stabilizing his bloodline's claim to the throne if he managed to produce heirs who survived the tumultuous politics of the realm.
In this scenario, Aegon might seek to eliminate Rhaenyra and her supporters as threats to his rule. However, he might also consider imprisoning or exiling them if he believed it would lead to a more stable realm, using them as pawns to discourage further rebellion.
In a world where Aegon mirrored Tywin in intellect and temperament, the Dance of the Dragons might have unfolded with less chaos and more cold, calculated brutality. His reign could be characterized by a strong, if feared, leadership, potentially leading to a more unified but oppressed realm. His victory in the war would be likely, achieved through strategy and fear rather than sheer force. However, the scars of his rule would mark the history of Westeros, leaving a legacy that would be remembered with a mix of respect and dread.
Well that's what I think. But honestly I love the original Aegon more because he's a broken man and I love him for it.
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amethystmercury · 1 day
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Alicent is that mom who gets late diagnosed as autistic after witnessing her children have the same symptoms
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witchy-v1xen · 1 day
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I just Realized that my mother is so Alicent coded and that I am so Aegon-coded. I really am living bro's life except it's modernized. 😭
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aggloomy · 4 days
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m1ndbrand · 1 year
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Aegon: So you like Aemond?
Y/N: Yes...Thoughts?
Aegon: and prayers, girl what
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bbygirl-aemond · 1 year
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Aegon was the son Viserys always wanted, the son he slaughtered one woman and raped another for, the son he neglected his daughter for. And yet he did not love him.
Helaena was the dragon dreamer Viserys had always hoped to be, the holder of the Valyrian magic he so revered. And yet he did not love her.
Aemond was the lover of dragons, the eager student of history, the kindred spirit Viserys was never able to find in court. And yet he did not love him.
I will rage forever at how much Viserys should have loved these kids. He should have loved them so fucking much. Every single one of them embodied one of his deepest hopes and dreams. And yet he spent the rest of his miserable life punishing them for his own goddamn decision to bring them into this world.
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luwupcia · 4 months
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mama’s boy
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valeskafics · 1 year
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"Satisfied" - Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader x Aegon Targaryen II
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Part 2 HERE
Summary: Your brothers get jealous when you pay too much attention to Uncle Daemon and decide to teach you a lesson.
Word Count: 2,652
TW: canon typical INCEST, p in v sex, anal sex, ass eating, unprotected sex wrap it before you tap it kiddos, various other things idek anymore
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
You’ve always been close to your two older brothers growing up. While your twin, Daeron, was sent to Oldtown, you remained in King’s Landing with most of your family at your father’s insistence, being his favorite child. Being the youngest of the family affords you a degree of freedom that you know your eldest sister, Rhaenyra, was not afforded. Something that you’re quite sure she resents you for as she meets your gaze from across the throne room.
The close relationship between you and your brothers has been the subject of court gossip ever since you turned eight and ten. Aegon, being your eldest brother, took it upon himself to take you to the Streets of Silk when you came of age, much like he did for Aemond. Only this time? He was the one to teach you personally. You still remember his husky voice in your ear, asking you to fuck yourself on his cock as he made you sit in his lap, mouthing at your breasts.
Aemond, not one to be ignored, made sure to find his way into your bedchambers soon after, telling you it was wrong to give yourself so freely to one brother and not to the other. He spent what felt like hours between your legs, bringing you to the precipice of ecstasy then denying you, stating you had not yet earned it.
And between the two of them, you’ve most certainly learned quite a few things, both about them and yourself.
Now, you stand to hear your nephew and his grand uncle’s claims to Driftmark, watching on with indifference. You bear no ill will toward the Strong boys, much to your brothers’ chagrin. In fact, in your youth, you even took a shine to Jacaerys, granting him your first kiss, a fact that to this day drives your brothers up the wall with jealousy.
But right now? Your eyes aren’t on Aegon or Aemond or Jace. Your eyes aren’t on Vaemond who is busy calling your elder sister a whore. Your eyes are solely on your Uncle Daemon. And his eyes? They’re on you too. He springs into action when his wife, your sister’s integrity is called into question, quickly severing Vaemond Velaryon’s head from his body in one clean cut from his blade. You watch with interest, while Aemond attempts to pull you into his arms and shield you from the sight, the hypocrite admiring it himself.
Later that night at dinner, once again, you find yourself unable to tear your eyes from Daemon. And you don’t want to. He doesn’t seem to notice your ogling, or if he does, he says nothing, merely sitting beside Rhaenyra and playing the part of a dutiful husband.
Your brothers may not have noticed your distraction before, your infatuation, but now? They see the way your eyes never leave his form, focused intently on his hands, his jaw, his hair, his eyes. They see you biting your lip as if to keep yourself from saying anything to embarrass yourself.
When Jace asks you to dance, he’s immediately fixed with a sharp look from your brothers and instead moves to dance with Helaena. You muse that they’d be quite a handsome couple. However, as this happens? Daemon approaches you and extends his hand. Before you can take it, Aegon is dragging you out of the dining hall, Aemond in tow, ignoring your mother calling after the three of you. You know that this is likely just going to be taken as your brothers being overprotective and wanting to keep the Rogue Prince as far from their sweet sister as possible. But you realize very soon that there is far more to it than that.
“What the fuck was that?” Aegon demands.
Oh no…
You give him the most innocent smile you can muster, “What was what, Aeg?”
Aemond turns you around and glares down at you, “You know what. Don’t play dumb, sister, it doesn’t suit you.”
“I’m quite afraid I have no idea what in the Seven Hells either of you are talking about, Aemy,” you say, turning back to Aegon, “Now, are we going to worry our mother needlessly or return to the feast?”
“So you can dance with Uncle Daemon?” Aegon scoffs, moving forward to cage you in between him and Aemond, “I think not.”
You roll your eyes, “It was just a friendly gesture. You two are being so melodramatic. Honestly, what were you thinking we were going to do after dragging me here?”
“Oh, we know exactly what we’re going to do,” Aemond looks past you at Aegon, the two sharing a secretive smile that you are not made privy to, which irks you since the three of you are supposed to share everything.
However, with Aegon in front of you, leaning in ever so slightly, Aemond to your back, you realize that the two of them might have concocted some sort of plan together. The idea of it excites you more than you care to admit.
“You’re going to ride my cock, Princess,” Aegon coos in your ear, “And Aemond is going to fuck your other little hole. Because that’s what happens to bad little girls who lust after their uncles.”
You feel your cheeks heat up at Aegon’s words, looking at him, “I… I wasn’t lusting after anyone!”
“Don’t lie to us, little dragon,” Aemond rests his chin on your shoulder, pressing himself up against your back, grinding his already hard cock against your ass, “One cock at a time isn’t enough to keep you satisfied, is it? Do you really think that Daemon can fuck you as well as us? Our dirty little slut needs to have both of us inside her to keep her satisfied, hm? Greedy little thing.”
You yelp slightly as Aemond slaps you hard on the ass, “Aemond!”
“Aemond,” Aegon imitates in a high-pitched, squeaky voice that sounds nothing at all like yours, “Take your fucking clothes off.”
“What if I don’t want to?” you snap, glaring up at him, “Just because you’re older than me doesn’t mean- OUCH!”
Aemond lands another harsh smack on your ass before pulling you back by the hair, angling your face to stare up at him, “Did he stutter, sweet girl? Take your fucking clothes off and get on the bed.”
You let out an indignant huff, undoing the bodice of your dress and grumbling to yourself about how you wish you’d been an only child. The brothers look at each other, exchanging an amused look, before Aegon lies back on the bed, tossing his tunic aside and sliding his breeches down. Aemond moves your dress down your form, slowly revealing your thin silk shift, his movements slow and deliberate.
Aegon leans forward to cup your breasts in his hands over the flimsy fabric, running his thumbs over your nipples, grinning to himself as they pebble under his touch, “So eager for us, aren’t you, little slut?”
When you don’t answer immediately, only resting your head against Aemond’s chest, Aemond presses an open mouthed kiss to your neck, biting down on your skin before speaking, “Aegon asked you a question, sweetling. Answer him.”
You look at Aegon, sitting before you in all his glory and admit, “Yes…”
With that, Aemond rips the flimsy shift from your body, pushing you forward onto Aegon’s lap so that he may disrobe as well. Aegon wastes no time in pulling you close, pressing a lazy kiss on your lips, moving down to your neck, before trailing down to your breasts.
Soon enough, Aemond is behind you again as Aegon takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue laving attention on it while you grip his hair, pulling him even closer. The sensation of his warm, wet tongue on your skin leaves you wanting more as his other hand rolls your unattended peak in his hand. You let out a low moan of his name, pulling him in even. You can practically feel Aegon grinning against your skin.
He pulls back slightly and grins at you, “Are you wet for us yet, Princess? Are you ready for me to fuck your tight little cunt?”
His words go straight to your core as Aemond moves to hold you from behind by the hips. One of his hands moves to snake in between your legs, his fingers sliding into your cunt with relative ease considering how wet you are from Aegon’s actions.
“Look at you,” Aemond murmurs in your ear as his finger moves in and out of you, his palm rubbing up against your clit in a way that has you leaning into his touch, begging for more, “You’re so desperate for us, aren’t you? Who’s making you feel this good? Not Daemon. Who is it?”
You don’t say anything, rather you move your hand back to wrap in Aemond’s hair, “Fuck…”
You’re jolted out of your pleasure-filled haze by a sharp slap to your cunt, making you gasp while Aegon snickers at your reaction to Aemond’s punishment, the latter speaking coldly, “Use your words, little dragon. Who made you this wet?”
“You and Aegon,” you manage to whimper as he speeds up his ministrations, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, Aegon moving his mouth back to your breasts, “Fuck, please, I need you-”
“Beg us,” Aemond demands, “Beg us to fuck you.”
Aemond slows down his movements, robbing you of your climax, making you let out a noise of protest. You look down at Aegon to see he’s also stopped, his lips pulling off of your nipples with a borderline obscene pop. You glance back at Aemond to see him glaring at you.
Swallowing your pride, knowing there’s only one way to get the release you so desperately crave, you sigh and murmur, “Please, Aegon… Aemond… I need you… I’m begging you to fuck me.”
“That’s a good girl,” Aemond whispers in your ear, “Now, take Aegon’s cock in your cunt. I need to prepare you for mine.”
You move your legs to straddle Aegon’s lap, letting out a sigh of contentment as you lower yourself down onto his girthy cock. Aegon lets out a loud groan, gripping your hips, holding you in place for a moment.
“So fucking wet, so tight,” he manages, still not allowing you to move, “Fuck…”
You feel Aemond’s large, calloused hands squeezing the flesh of your rear, his fingers dancing dangerously close to your puckered hole, “Have you been touching yourself here like I told you to?”
You nod, still sitting on Aegon, waiting for one of them to say or do something, “Yes…”
“Good.”
Aegon squeezes the flesh of your thighs and begins bouncing you up and down on his lap in tandem with Aemond pushing a finger inside your ass. You let out an unintelligible string of profanities as you begin to move your hips in time with Aegon’s. He leans forward, nipping at your still sensitive breasts as they bounce near his face as your hips slam down against his over and over, the fat head of his cock hitting you just where you need him to. And on the other side you feel Aemond’s fingers moving in an almost scissor-like motion, preparing your tight little hole for his cock.
As Aegon continues bucking his hips up into you, you’re disappointed when Aemond removes his fingers, replacing them with his…
“Aemond,” you cry out, “What are you doing?”
“Need to get you wet for me,” he smirks against your skin, his tongue delving into your ass as you continue grinding on Aegon’s girthy cock.
Aegon laughs at your embarrassed expression as you let out a cacophony of moans, feeling Aemond’s tongue slithering deep inside you, feeling things you weren’t really sure were even possible. He spreads your buttocks with his large hands, continuing his task, bringing you closer and closer to the edge until, suddenly… He moves away, leaving you feeling his absence in an almost visceral way.
You try to ignore the feeling and renew your efforts with Aegon, bouncing up and down on his cock, loving the attention he’s lavishing your breasts with.
Then, you feel Aemond’s cock poking at your ass. You feel a shiver of anticipation go up and down your spine as he runs his length along your hole before slowly but surely pushing in. You let out a yelp of pain, making Aegon lean up to kiss you, distracting you as Aemond sheathes himself inside your ass. He stays still for a moment, all three of you do, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of having both of them inside you at once.
After a minute or two, the discomfort from the stretch dulls and transforms into something else entirely. You find yourself squeezing around both Aemond’s cock and Aegon’s, wanting to continue your illicit encounter. You hear Aemond chuckle darkly as he moves forward to rest his chin in the crook of your neck, kissing your jawline.
“How do you feel, little dragon?”
You let out a soft moan in response, silently urging him to continue, which he gladly does. Aegon chuckles at the sight of you, normally so ready to talk back, completely blissed out on his and his brother’s cocks. For your part, the sensation of having both of them inside you makes you feel impossibly full in the best possible way.
They continue thrusting into you, holding you between them as if they have no intention of letting you go. Aegon’s fat cock hits your sweet spot, making you clench tighter around each of them, making both let out a grunt of appreciation. Aemond picks up his pace, the room filled with the sound of his balls slapping against the bare flesh of your ass. You bury your face in Aegon’s shoulder as he continues to nip and bite at your chest. Then, Aemond moves his finger to circle your clit, applying the slightest bit of pressure which sends you over the edge, white hot pleasure searing through your entire body to the point that you think you might have fainted. 
Aegon cums soon after you, spilling his seed deep inside you, smirking to himself as he does so. Aemond, however, is not quite finished yet. He continues his movements, not moving his fingers from your clit, continuing to rub at it as you revel in the afterglow of your peak, feeling another one approaching.
“Too much, Aemond,” you mumble, slapping at his wrist, to which you only receive a sharp laugh from him and Aegon.
“This is what dirty little sluts get, little dragon,” Aemond mumbles in your ear, fucking you harder and faster, his hips stuttering slightly as he nears his own peak.
When he feels he’s nearly about to spill himself, he nods at Aegon, who mouths at your breast while Aemond pinches your clit ever so slightly. You let out a squeal of both of their names, feeling your peak wash over you again, Aemond following soon after as he cums deep in your ass.
You stumble forward against Aegon who catches you, brushing your hair out of your face, murmuring in your ear how well you did, how he and Aemond are going to take care of you and reward you for taking your punishment so well. Aemond presses a kiss to your shoulder blade, smiling when you turn around to place a kiss on his lips.
The three of your soft little moment is interrupted by the sound of… Clapping?
You turn toward the door to see none other than the cause of this whole situation. Daemon.
Smirking to himself as he eyes your naked form up and down.
“Well, boys,” Daemon drawls, speaking to Aegon and Aemond, but his eyes focused solely on you, “I think your sister deserves to see how a real man pleasures a woman. Come now, little dove. Kepa’s here.”
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