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itsgameofthronesimagines · 1 year

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The Good Queen

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing(s): Viserys Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Harwin Strong x Alicent Hightower, Harwin Strong x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower, Daemon Targaryen x Harwin Strong (I won’t apologize for everyone being gay for each other)

Tag: hotd the good queen

Warning: Fluff. Happy ending. No one dies (except Aemma, sorry love) and everyone lives. Age gaps. No feud. No greens or blacks. Slight gore.

Word Count: 3,901

Summary: The King must choose a new wife, and Alicent’s older sister, Y/n Hightower, is a suitable choice and a perfect match. For once, Viserys makes a decision that benefits everyone and upsets little few. The Seven Kingdoms are better for it.

Author’s Note: Not a request. Oddly enough, plenty request Otto imagines but never King Viserys. I thought I'd give it a try since I had an idea. But to be honest, Viserys x Reader are sort of background pairing/onlookers of this.

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

It was the most logical choice to pick the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower. It was also all part of Lady Y/n’s plan. After the death of her mother, she had become the guardian figure her younger sister, Alicent, truly needed in her time of grief and loneliness. Older and far more mature in beauty and wisdom, The Lady Y/n Hightower was determined to still give Alicent whatever was left of her childhood and did everything in her power to make her little sister feel loved and accepted. So if there were whispers regarding Alicent, Y/n likely knew about it. One night, her handmaid came into her room and warned her of whispers involving her little sister and the King. The maid spoke of Lord Otto placing Alicent where Viserys could see her after the death of the late Queen Aemma, and Y/n was beyond disgusted and furious.

However, instead of confronting her father, Y/n went behind his back and also placed herself where Viserys could see her. While she couldn’t stop Alicent from seeing the King at night without raising suspicion, she did, however, visited the King between meals and even ask Princess Rhaenyra if she could attend the Small Council meetings to act as another cupbearer. Rhaenyra, excited with the prospect of another woman being a part of the meetings, accepted the proposal. Y/n made sure to fill Viserys’ cup modestly and had even accompanied him in the royal gardens a time or two after that. It didn’t take much effort before he announced to his small council his engagement to her. Rhaenyra, sad but relieved her father found another wife, gladly welcomed Y/n into the family with open arms and was even more excited at the idea of Alicent being ever closer to being a part of her family.

The Hand of the King, however, was less than happy and voiced how displeased he was of her when finding time alone with his eldest daughter, “What have you done?”

“Done?” Y/n questioned from her vanity mirror, removing her earrings after a long day of the people of the court congratulating her.

“He was supposed to marry your sister.”

“Why would he want Alicent, Father?” Y/n tilted her head innocently at the reflection of Otto standing at a distance behind her, “She’s but a child.”

“In the gods' eyes, she is a woman grown.”

“So am I. I am the eldest, so why must she be married off first?”

“She’s the most comely lady in court.”

“If you think me ugly, Father,” she snarled, finally standing up and turning to face her father head-on, “Just say it and be done with it.”

“I had wished to marry you off to your cousin.”

“Ormund is Heir to Oldtown. Surely my uncle would want a better match for him to ally another large house to ours instead of within our own family. You’re a political man. Try to be smarter than the second son desperate for power.”

The insult strained their relationship if it hadn’t been strained already. Lord Otto barely spoke to his eldest daughter after that unless common courtesy compels him to do so, like complimenting her wedding dress before he gave her away to Viserys. Y/n may not have felt love when the King kissed her with the promise of affection and commitment, but she felt relief. Upon watching the way Alicent danced and laughed during the feast that night, entirely unaware and still innocent of childhood, Y/n knew she made the right decision.

It wasn’t long before Y/n was pregnant then the world as she knew it imploded with excitement. The maesters, after tending to all of the former Queen Aemma’s sickly pregnancies, were astonished to see Y/n flourish in quite the opposite direction. In a strange way, she was excited to be a mother, and practically raising Rhaenyra and Alicent helped with that dream.

At first hesitant, the princess grew to love Y/n as her stepmother, especially since the new Queen was her best friend’s sister. Even though Y/n was rumored to be carrying a son inside of her, Rhaenyra tried not to openly worry for her sake. She may be Viserys’ shiny new heir, but the idea of Queen Y/n having a son bothered Rhaenyra, even though Y/n tried easing her worries with the promise of always openly advocating for the princess’ right to the throne. This aggravated Lord Otto for obvious reasons. After Aegon was born, the Hand tried reaffirming his position over his daughter in order to persuade her into raising Aegon as the future king. In return, he got a stone wall, unmoveable even in the strongest of storms.

“You may be the Hand of the King,” Y/n had sneered at her father one night in the safety of her chambers, “But I am the wife to the King. I am the Queen.”

And with his daughter as Queen, Lord Otto found himself in lesser power than when she was just a lady of the court. With her baby boy on her hip, Queen Y/n attended many Small Council meetings, shameless at the stares of men around her when she took her seat next to Viserys, stealing the spot away from his Hand. Over some time, Y/n became to lean towards Rhaenyra when the princess poured her wine and offered small treats to her little half-brother. With the proper influence, Y/n had also convinced Viserys to grant his daughter a seat at the table, no longer a cupbearer. Y/n then happily stepped aside and let Rhaenyra sit next to her father while the Queen sat next to her own. By then, Lord Otto never felt further away from the King, physically and cognitively.

Even less so when his younger daughter was married off under his own nose. Like a carpet pulled underneath him, Lord Otto was forced to walk Alicent down the aisle and be handed off to her new husband, Harwin “Breakbones” Strong. Some wonder who could have ever picked out such a perfect match, while others looked no further than the Queen herself. With her father’s pawns now swiftly taken from him, Lord Otto begrudgingly asked King Viserys for his blessing to resign. Although shocked, Viserys only had to look to his wife before granting his Hand a dismissal.

Tail between his legs, Otto Hightower left for Oldtown, never to return to King’s Landing, even when his daughters produced him grandchildren. In his place, Lord Lyonel Strong was named Hand of the King and he was a better-suited friend to the throne, and most importantly, an ally to his Queen.

Queen Y/n was a busy woman, even while pregnant. Especially while pregnant. She couldn’t afford anyone trying to take away her power and influence when she was knocked down and so she was constantly on the move, no matter how round she got. Her daughter, Helaena, came quicker than Aegon, and so the Red Keep was filled with delight at the announcement of a new princess soon to roam the halls. Rhaenyra was delighted. She was spotted trying to teach the baby girl how to walk, letting her little sister hang onto her hands and trot over her own feet. Alicent was already a proud aunt, but she doted on Helaena much like Y/n used to dote on her own younger sister. It seems as though the Queen had been quite the influence between Rhaenyra and Alicent, both now fully grown, beautiful and proud.

If Alicent was missing her father, she never showed it. Instead, she spent her time excited when she learned she would soon be a mother herself. Watching Y/n raise her children, Alicent had grown to wish to be just like her sister one day. Harwin was kind to his young wife and understood his place in her heart must be shared with the people around her. He knew Alicent loved her sister, the Queen. He knew she loved her niece, Helaena, and nephew, Aegon, and above all, he knew she loved the Princess Rhaenyra. Harwin couldn’t blame Alicent. Harwin had grown to love her, too.

Y/n and Alicent were soon pregnant together, and it felt as though the Seven Kingdoms could not have had a more beautiful, plentiful summer that year. Everyone was happy, whether of the royal family growing or from the prospect of the harvest. Most of King’s Landing was always celebrating and most stomachs were full and warm. With the Queen and her sister expecting, the castle was alive with happiness and love.

However, Y/n knew there was one individual who was internally unhappy. She was no fool. The Queen saw the way Rhaenyra looked at Alicent and the way Alicent looked at Rhaenyra. Surely, Alicent’s unborn child sparked a deep-dwelling of sadness within Rhaenyra, longing still evident in her eyes. Eventually, Y/n saw the way Ser Harwin stared after the princess as well and knew that something had to be done. She wouldn’t dare dream of separating the three, but she knew that Rhaenyra had to marry soon or who knows what sort of rumors might blossom should someone else notice the tension between the princess, Alicent, and Harwin. Rhaenyra needed a husband, despite the princess making it difficult to find a suitor. Y/n knew where to look, but unlike the other times, it would take a lot more effort to convince the King of this match.

“No,” Viserys smiled, despite the clouds looming overhead, “Absolutely not. Daemon is not worthy of my daughter.”

“If you could have your way, no one would be worthy of her,” Y/n sighed, briefly smiling at her husband while rounding the Small Council’s table towards him, her hand brushing over the surface. They were alone at the moment, waiting for the other members to join them, “But she is your heir, and she’s no longer a child. She is unwed, and last I heard, Daemon had recently lost his wife, Lady Royce. As I understand it, their marriage was left unconsummated.”

“Others will look to him to be King, instead of Rhaenyra their Queen,” Viserys retorted.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Not everyone will be happy, no matter what decision you make, Your Grace.”

She reaches the King, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she crossed to stand behind him, rubbing his aging shoulders and physically feeling his body slowly uncoil and relax. Viserys sighs, long and exhausted, his fingers rising to rub his eyes, but instead reach further back and clasp Y/n’s hand instead. She squeezes his hand encouragingly, while Viserys still looked hesitant and forlorn, “He’s not worthy of her...”

“No,” Y/n leans down and kissed the top of his head, “But he does love her. And I think she loves him, too. They are dragons, Viserys, and your kin. Your house sigil requires three dragon heads. If Rhaenyra is to be Queen someday, then she will need heirs of her own. She’ll need dragons. This marriage proposal is not an unheard-of custom, especially for a Targaryen. This alliance will keep your legacy strong long after you and I are gone, and your reign over Westeros will remain peaceful long after Rhaenyra has passed on.”

The Small Council meets that evening, and Viserys announces Daemon and Rhaenyra’s engagement. For supper, that night, King Viserys and Queen Y/n sit beside Rhaenyra and invite the children and Harwin and Alicent along for the celebration as well. Rhaenyra’s eyes sparkled again for the first time in a while, and if Y/n noticed the tight grip her stepdaughter had on her hand, she didn’t comment.

Thankfully, Daemon was on board with this proposal and made no fuss when he was summoned to King’s Landing. Both he and Rhaenyra were married by the end of seven, long days of festivities. The newlyweds decided to temporarily part for Dragonstone, but both rushed back on their dragons when they received word of Queen Y/n and Lady Alicent both going into labor.

Aemond was a difficult delivery, but Y/n was, as always, overjoyed to have the infant brought into her arms. Down the hall, not long after Aemond was born, the Queen could hear a different cry coming out of her sister’s room.

Alicent birthed a son, Jacerys Strong. The whole kingdom rejoiced over their new prince and little lord. Many spoke about the bond the two would share growing up and strengthening the alliance between House Targaryen and House Strong. Lifelong friends were born that day, and Y/n could not wait to raise her children alongside her sisters'.

Rhaenyra quickly became pregnant as well, and by this time, Y/n had noticed the way Rhaenyra and Alicent hold onto each other as they roam the gardens, both of their husbands following them in tow. The Queen doesn’t miss the way the four often spend most of their time together, day and night. Sometimes, Y/n feels as though she’s intruding when watching them all interact. Rhaenyra and Alicent are usually glued to each other’s side, but if not, sometimes Y/n noticed Daemon accompanying Alicent and Harwin attending to Rhaenyra. There are times when even all three are attending to the princess as her stomach slowly grows. Now that she noticed this, Queen Y/n noticed other things as well, like how intense those training sessions between Daemon and Harwin can be.

For the most part, Y/n turns a blind eye and makes no complaint. She doesn’t say a word to Viserys, but she’s seen the way the King watches his daughter with her... group of confidants, and part of Y/n wonders if her husband sees it, too. Perhaps she is not the only one turning a blind eye in order to see Rhaenyra happy with the family her father always wanted her contented with.

Daemon and Rhaenyra’s firstborn is also named Aegon, nicknamed the Younger. Aegon the Elder was delighted when Rhaenyra confessed she named her child after her brother more so than the Conqueror. Viserys was a proud grandfather/uncle, holding the babe in his arms as he sat upon the Iron Throne to announce Aegon’s birth to the court. During the festivities, Viserys even made a lighthearted joke about how his darling wife was so young and it was nearly impossible to believe that she was now a grandmother.

More children came after that, though Daeron would be Y/n’s last after she broke out in fevers once she birthed him. She survived, but after that, both she and Viserys agreed that Daeron would be their last one. Alicent and Harwin bore two more sons, Lucerys and Joffrey, while Daemon and Rhaenyra had another son and a daughter, Viserys II, and Visenya. Despite a few age differences in between, all the children were raised together within the Red Keep and grew up nearly forgetting that they were, in fact, not all direct siblings. They were taught together. They trained together, sewed together, and fought together.

Ten years passed and they were the best years of King Viserys’ life, or so people claim. Even as his health declined, he made no room for sorrow, only joy when his children and grandchildren were involved. One of his favorite pastimes was overlooking the courtyard and watching as his children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews all played together. All of the Targaryen children’s dragons, still small with age, curiously watched them play as well, acting more like large dogs than fiery beasts.

As they got older, some of the boys got rougher. As siblings-who-are-not-really-siblings do, they all occasionally fight or they take their anger out in training. One unfortunate incident was between Aemond and Lucerys. Whilst training, it was clear that the cousins were angry at each other over something minuscule and so they tried to vent using the swing of their swords. Unfortunately, Luke swung hard and Aemond didn’t sidestep in time to avoid it. The very tip of the Strong boy’s sword slashed across Aemond’s eye, leaving behind an unspeakable scene full of blood and screams.

The Queen was summoned right away, directed to Aemond’s chambers where her son was already abed with the Grand Maester tending to him. It was a gruesome scene, even with the wound already cleaned. Aemond’s eye was swollen and angry, a long, ugly cut running through it, trailing down his cheek and over his eyebrow.

The maester moves away from the bed and allows the Queen to take his place by her son’s side as he explained, “I have given as much Milk of the Poppy as I could, Your Grace, but for a child of his size, it would be too dangerous to give him the proper doses he would normally need to relax. The pain has dulled, but it will linger.”

The Queen sits on the edge of Aemond’s bed, “It will heal, will it not?”

“The flesh will heal into a scar... but the eye is lost, Your Grace.”

Y/n’s face crumbles in distress, taking Aemond’s hand in hers while brushing some of his silver hair from his young face, “What happened?”

“An accident in the training yard, Your Grace, as I understand it.”

“Luke cut me!” Aemond cried in anger, “He cut me and I should have left my mark in return! I had my chance and I couldn’t take it! I wish I had!”

"Aemond," his mother warns, eyeing him with a look that only a mother could threaten with her child, “You don’t mean that. I understand your anger and your grief, but at the end of the day, what happened was an accident. Tragic, yes, but an accident. Luke is your cousin. He is a part of your family and he loves you. He would have never intentionally harmed you and you know it.”

She leans forward then and kisses his forehead, just above the top of the cut, "We can get you something to cover it up. Or, once it fully heals, we can replace it with a false eye. A diamond, perhaps? Ruby?"

Her lightheartedness softens Aemond’s anger, slightly, as he relents to his mother’s touch, leaning into her embrace as he entertains her idea, "Sapphire."

She leans back so he could see her smile of approval, "A fine choice, my love.”

The Queen stands up, taking her time to help Aemond lie down and get properly tucked into his covers. She lovingly pets his hair down as she turns to the maester beside her, “Grand Maester. Have some essence of Nightshade brought up to my son’s chambers. He needs time to rest and heal.”

“At once, Your Grace,” the maester bows then exits the room.

Y/n leans back down to her son one last time, bringing his hand up to her face to kiss his fingers, “Be hopeful, son. Women like men with scars."

She leaves the room and makes her long trek to the kitchens. Rounding a corner, she comes across her sister. Alicent was distraught and full of guilt, grasping the Queen's hands in hers as she cries, "I'm so sorry... Harwin and I will punish Luke accordingly."

"There's no need," Y/n is quick to reassure Alicent, her sisterly instincts kicking back in. The instinct never truly went away. It was dormant, but Y/n will always protect her sister, no matter how old she gets, "It was an accident, Ali. Aemond will not resent your son for it. I can imagine Luke is very distraught about what happened. You must attend to him. Reassure him that he was not at fault and I would never hold this over my nephew."

After she sent Alicent back to her family, Y/n returns to her original task and heads to the kitchens. She returns to Aemond's chambers a little while later, carrying a tray of food and drink for her son, ignoring the servants when they offered to carry it for her. Behind her, Aegon, Helaena, and Daeron are hovering in the doorway, poking their heads into the room and trying to get a good look at their brother abed. The Queen sets the tray down and turns back to the doorway with a knowing glance, “Come along. Dine with your brother but then leave him to rest.”

A picnic was made in Aemond’s bed, his mother and siblings surrounding him as they nibbled on bread and cheese. They talked about other things to distract the injured prince, telling stories about their day or laughing at a joke Aegon said. Viserys, in search of his family, limped into the room with his cane not long after, smiling softly at the scene before him.

After sending her other children away to let Aemond sleep, Y/n takes her husband's arm and carefully walks with him to her own chambers. His hair had begun to thin out and a hunch in his back drove him to lean forward or off to the side as he walked crookedly. He was no longer the peaceful, handsome king Y/n had married, and a small ache in her heart hammered every time she looked into his eyes, age spots and wrinkles beginning to form on his pale skin. Despite his troubles with his health, he still never looked happier.

"You are a wonderful woman, Y/n," Viserys held her arm in a firm grip, his kind smile pulling those wrinkles further up his face. His eyes dazzled warmly, happily, without a sign of a lie, "You're a good mother, a good queen, but most importantly you're a good wife. Had I not married you... I am not sure I would be surrounded by the most loving family and ruling such a prosperous kingdom. What would I do without you?"

Y/n smiled back, patting his arm affectionately as they make it down the long hallway of their home, "Best not to dwell on such a question, my love. The Seven Kingdoms are better off without knowing."

~~~

Viserys dies in his sleep a few years later. His health had gotten worse and the only thing he allowed the maester to administrate was the Milk of the Poppy to dull the pain. Otherwise, he didn't ask for a cure, nor did he try to even fight his illness. Many often wondered if, in the end, he was waiting to die. Others thought that guilt was a deadly illness and whatever secret the King had, died with him. After being given a window to mourn, the now Queen Regent, Y/n Hightower, crowned Viserys' rightful heir herself.

Queen Rhaenyra's coronation was grand, as what Viserys would've wanted for his beloved daughter. Daemon, his brother, proudly took the name, King Consort, while Rhaenyra named her firstborn son, Prince Aegon the Younger, her rightful heir. Lyonel Strong remained the Hand of the Queen, but his son, Harwin, was named Commander of the City Watch and was given a place at the Small Council's table. His children with Alicent were given titles to many lands, their oldest son heir to Harrenhal. Aegon the Elder was permitted the claim to Dragonstone, while Rhaenyra's other half-siblings were appointed as squires and cupbearers to her court, some were even betrothed to the Strong children.

Y/n, however, remained in King's Landing, despite being granted permission to go back to her family's home, Oldtown. With Rhaenyra's permission, she remained in the Red Keep where she had made a home among her children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews. Y/n Hightower -once called the Good Queen- died in her bed many years later, after briefly meeting her first great-grandchild to her son, Aegon, and his wife and niece, Visenya.

There were no Blacks. There were no Greens. A hundred years will pass and everyone will know the story of how one woman stopped the Dance of Dragons from ever happening. Or better yet, no one will have ever even heard of it.

~~~

A/N: I know, I switched everything up and made everyone confused. This was a form of therapy for me after I wished that everyone in the show would just get along.

Part Two

3K notes · View notes

fan-goddess · 5 months

Note

aemond + sex pollen + getting caught + public sex 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

aemond is betrothed to reader (who he only v recently met after she comes to KL), they had no intentions to bed each other before the wedding bc honor ofc it’s aemond lol but the pollen gets them and they dont even get to make it out of the gardens before they started getting freaky 😭

Authors Note: oooh great idea nonnie i like how you think! The setting is similar to the small garden with the gods wood tree, but it’s A LOT more secluded than that. Plus changed Aemonds morals a little but it’s still the same man we know and love ❤️

Warnings: P in v sex, public, getting caught, praise kink, breeding kink, praise, degrading, mentions of aegon being bad, alicent shows up surprise! (I know I’ve missed a lot let me know what though so I can add them!)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @arcielee, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat, @lovelykhaleesiii

Ever since you were a young girl, your duty had all you’d ever been taught.

It was what your whole childhood had been preparing you for. Your septa’s had taught you what you must do to make t your husband happy and content with you, whilst your mother had insisted on taking on the role of teaching you the acts of the marital bed.

It was graphic, how she told you that you must simply lay there and allow the man to enter you, allowing him to do whatever it took to for him to impregnate you.

It was those teachings alone that haunted you for days when you were informed of your newest betrothal to the young Targaryen prince.

You had heard the gossip of the eldest prince Aegon. How maids that were assigned to his quarters left mere months later with not only a coin purse, but a swollen stomach hidden under their dress too.

It’s probably was why you found yourself as shocked as you were when you met the prince Aemond, and fell in love with him as deeply as you did.

When you kissed him one late night in the depths of the library, it felt like everything was right. Aemonds hands felt perfect as they held your waist and chin respectively as he could. Yet no matter how disrespectfully you wish for him to hold you, your duty once again held a tight grip on both of your senses.

You knew that the morning after your wedding night, the bed would be checked to see if you had bled. And if you haven’t, you would bring a great shame and dishonour on your house, no doubt passing onto your own family you and Aemond would create.

So no matter how deliciously sinful it is to feel Aemonds lips on yours, that addictive forbidden feeling of his hands beginning to roam your body in between the tall bookshelves flowing through your veins, you know your duty as of now holds you hostage.

“Aemond, we-we cannot do this here…” You murmur between kisses and heavy breaths, trying your best to keep your composure as you lean away, only for Aemond to immediately follow your head with his own eager lips.

“Please my love... just five more minutes alone with you... then I will be satisfied. I swear it!”

“You swore you’d be satisfied nearly an hour ago my dragon! You’re never satisfied whatever it is you do! Whether it is your books, your training, and now even me it seems!” You grin, biting your swollen bottom lip in a teasing motion that only makes out betrothed more undone as he groans slightly in frustration.

“I am a prince of the realm! I could easily demand there be no checking of your blood!” It is almost amusing how desperate Aemond looks in that moment. His eye blown wide as he looks at you. His lips nearly swollen like your own. Even his cheeks now a deep shade of red.

“Aemond my love, it is because you are a prince of the realm that they check my Maidenhead!” You laugh lightly, stepping away from Aemonds heaving form that leans on the space you stepped from.

“I-I’m sorry darling. The moment got away from me… I will see you in the morn. Do you wish to break fast together? I could tell the chefs to prepare your favourite?”

“Aemond my love, we have broken fast together for nearly two weeks now! You must spend more time with your family before your mother believes I’m taking you away from them!” You laugh, intending for a small joke, only Aemond looks serious as he responds.

“I don’t care. You’re my family too. Married yet or not.” It leaves a heavy blush on your cheeks as you move to kiss his scar with devotion.

It takes the two of you a while, but eventually you find your own ways back to your respective chambers, where the both of you much to your respective guards reliefs, stay till the next morning.

Aemond to his chagrin meets with his family, while you dine with your own.

Your mother can’t help herself but talk eagerly on the debates of your wedding. What colour gown you shall wear and what food will no doubt be at the feast. But instead all you can think of, is meeting your betrothed later that day in the gardens, just as he suggested before the two of you parted.

Eventually you escape your mothers questions, and when you make your way to the gardens, you can’t help but admire the bright flowers as you walked past.

You turn your head, and when you spot Aemond standing there smiling by the godswood tree as he watched you, you can’t help but smile seeing the small bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“Here you go my love. They’re flowers newly shipped from Lys, that have not even had the grace to sit in Westeros soil yet. I thought you deserved the first bouquet of them before anyone else…”

“Well thank you darling…” You smile, grinning slightly at Aemonds out of character bashfulness before leaning forward slightly and sniffing the bright flowers.

Only, you can’t help but gasp slightly when you’re suddenly hit with a strange smell. One akin to dark chocolate and a slight tinge of salt. It was odd, given what it was you were smelling, but what’s even stranger is that you find yourself already addicted to it within mere seconds. Already eager to bury your head into the arrangement and practically live there in order to smell that delightful thing as much as you could.

The only reason you find yourself not, is because Aemond quickly takes the bouquet out of your hands to sniff it himself.

Only when you see his eye widen and look at you, you can practically see it turn from a light lilac to a dark shade of purple, and you realise it’s not just you whose affected by the strange aroma.

“My love… I wish I could be sorry for what I am about to do, but I’m not.” Is all he says, before dropping the arrangement somewhere and shoving you against the tree, his lips eagerly connecting with yours in a passionate embrace.

Yet even with the vow of keeping your honour and your maidenhead screaming at you in your head, the feeling of Aemonds hands roaming your entire body is doing something to you that you cannot help but embrace wholeheartedly.

Your own hands eagerly take grasp of Aemonds hair and tugs, allowing a deep groan of his to practically resonate throughout your whole body.

“Aemond…” You murmur, “I want this. So much… but are you sure?”

He growls as he speaks, as if taken over by some other being, and you can’t deny how it makes your smallclothes feel strangely sticky and wet against your skin, and how much you like it.

“Of course I am ñuha jorrāelagon… but I must say that with what is coursing through my veins, I will not be gentle with you, like how I know you would enjoy. I will be rough, and animalistic. Do you think you can handle that?”

“Yes Aemond… I think I am able to handle all that… and more-“

You don’t even get to finish, as Aemond takes ahold of your face and kisses you harsher than he ever has done before. His teeth clash against yours, and you almost swear you can feel a tinge of blood on your tongue as he forces his and your own to move in some strange type of dance.

It’s so intense that feeling, that you don’t even realise entirely when Aemond rips the front of your dress open, allowing your front body to be revealed to him whilst you shiver slightly at the cold. Though you begin to quickly warm up when Aemond hot mouth leaves wet kisses all gone the length of your chest, trailing all the way to your breast that heave under the harshness of your sudden breaths.

“Good girl… what a good fucking girl I have for me to marry, and fuck my seed into…”

You whimper, and it all seems to turn into a sort of heavenly haze.

The taste of his lips on yours are like pure heaven, and his touch feels almost sinful as his fingers tweak and kneed at your breasts with hunger.

It’s only worse when he practically rips your soaked through smallclothes from your body, and stops a moment to smell them. The sight alone shocking you whilst you hang your mouth open in surprised arousal, a small breathless sound you don’t even realise you’re making being all you can say in that moment in response.

When he stuffs them in his pocket though and quickly undoes his leather trousers, allowing them to fall to the floor, the desperation in your entire body making you feel as if on fire when you catch sight of his cock, which smacks against his belly with a slight wet sound.

“Do you wish for it wife? Do you wish for me to fuck you senseless and fill you with my seed, until all you can feel is me? Until you’re stomach is swollen with our babe? Our heir?”

You’re breathless, but you don’t know what else to be. All you can focus on, is him, and nothing else.

When you nod your head enthusiastically though to his question, his brows furrow in some type of anger, and quick apologises and pleas spill from your mouth.

“I’m sorry husband, yes yes yes please fill me with your seed! I want all of kingslanding to know who is my lord husband, and who has claimed me as theirs! I want your cum dripping down my thighs and to remain inside of me until a child is born from us! Please husband allow me to carry your heir!”

Your pleas certainly seem to affective, as Aemond releases a roguish growl of approval and quickly moves to position his weeping almost pretty looking cock at your entrance, before looking at your face carefully whilst he inserts himself slowly.

You can feel your face scrunch in a painful way whilst you make a wounded sound, but Aemonds soothing touch and words make you preen so much you almost find yourself forgetting about it all.

“Doing so good for me ñuha ābrazȳrys… my sweet wife’s going to be dripping of me…”

You let out a broken moan, and yet in Aemonds eye it is too loud, as he swallows it with his own mouth. His tongue prying you lips open and practically dancing with yours.

He ruts into you like a madman, the thrusts having no true rhythm as he allows himself only to have his mind sink into the feeling of pleasure only you can give him. The feeling that consumes him better than anything in the world.

It’s deadly, and hot, and sinful, which is why it is such an addictive thing to be feeling at that moment as he groans into your mouth. The frantic rutting of his hips becoming somehow more manic as you feel his cock throb deep inside your heat.

However, such an addictive thing is dangerous, as when Aemonds grip on your upper thighs tighten to become near bruising whilst his cock spasms slightly as he groans in completion, your own face hidden in the sweaty curve of his neck as you feel your own walls tightening around him. However, the sudden realisation of a voice being heard, leaves your eyes suddenly widening in horror.

It’s a shrill feminine voice that speaks. “What in the seven is going on here!”

You can feel Aemonds spent still hot in your womb, aswell as your own juices dripping down your naked legs, which is why it is so horrifying to turn your head to see who the voice belongs to, and make eyes with the queen. Who stands before you and Aemond with a stern and scared face, her eyes seemingly unable to continue to stare at the scene before her as they look to the sky.

You and Aemond quickly move to correct yourselves, even though that feeling of desire in yours and his’ bodies almost seem to force you to want to continue. Though the shame quite forcibly overwhelms it.

It’s overwhelming in fact, when you attempt to make yourself modest and realise Aemonds eager attempts to caress you made it so the front of your dress is ruined. It’s even worse when you quickly realise you have no smallclothes to stop the trail of Aemonds spent flowing down your thighs.

An almost amused expression taking over him when he sees your dilemma, and an even stranger reaction seems to take over him when his mother turns her back for a second and he flashes you a glimpse of your smallclothes from his trousers pocket.

“I have excused Aegons debauchery for many years, and for it to go unpunished-“ The queen starts as she can now finally look at the two of you, her hands fiddling with themselves whilst she does so in what can be described as a nervous manner. “Which is why I cannot allow this sort of thing to go unpunished now with you Aemond. I would have never of suspected this of you my son, and this is the reason I feel so shameful of you. I expect this of Aegon, not you.”

You turn to your betrothed, and the man flashing you a view of your smallclothes with a smile on his face is gone. What instead stands beside you is a grim faced gentleman, who is an image of solemness and dishonour. It is obvious how much the queens words have affected him, no matter how much you know he’ll deny it later.

“I shall make it so that the two of yours betrothal to be hastened. As quick as moon tea is to be made and drunk, we cannot allow gossip to be weaves into our already, dare I even say it, hellish society. Is next month too quick? I only say as as much as the two of you would like to deny, it only takes one time to conceive a babe. That much your brother has proven to me…”

The queens words shake you, and yet when you meet Aemonds own anxious gaze, the two of you cannot help but nod heads in agreement.

“Splendid! I do believe this soured castle is in need of a happy day or two…” The queen smiles, almost looking lost in thought for a moment at the idea, before walking away without a glance behind her. Allowing the two of you to stand in the seriousness of the moment.

Aemond turns to you with sorrow, and you almost find yourself gasping in shock when he begins to get on his knees and grasps his hands on yours. “My love… I am so sorry! I have dishonoured you greatly with what was supposed to be a gift, which I why I completely understand if you wish to-“

“Aemond my dragon, you must not be sorry! We both had been struck with whatever was in those dreaded flowers! Yet it does not matter now! I love you, my dragon, and this will not change that…” You kneel with him in the dirt, and it’s like his whole personality changes, as he pulls you into a deep hug and buries his face in your neck.

Your hands move to cup his head where it lays, and you almost swear you can feel the fabric of your dress dampen with possible tears. But you say nothing to spare him the embarrassment. Instead, you allow him to stay there.

Your dragon, your Aemond, will always be safe in your arms.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #my works #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #my kinktober #house of the dragon smut #hotd fic #alicent hightower

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sara-scribbles · 1 year

Text

The Littlest Dragon (Part 2)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/GN!Reader Summary: Your quiet life as a herbalist is disrupted when you take in an injured dragon Word Count: 7,251 Notes: I might write a part 3 as an epilogue. Hope you enjoy! Warnings: None

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

With no word from Riddle, you go about your life as usual. Unfortunately, Tsunotarou is unable to accompany you on your trips into town due to his sudden growth. Though he gives you sad puppy dog eyes, you firmly tell him to stay home. He’s also a lot heavier so trying to carry him would be too difficult. Though you feel bad, you heed Riddle’s warning of keeping him out of sight.

It is a bit lonely without having his constant presence while you shop, but you quickly get used to it once more. Browsing the shelves at Sam’s, you grab a new mortar and pestle. Turning down another aisle, you nearly collide with another person.

“I’m so sorry!” you apologize quickly.

“Maître herboriste!” You recognize the voice immediately before even seeing his face.

Rook Hunt in all his feather hat glory, smiles widely at you. “Hello, Rook,” you greet. A bit eccentric, you know him through Vil.

He points to your loaded basket. “Shopping for supplies?”

“I’ve worn out my mortar and pestle, so I thought I’d get a new one,” you explain. You note his basket is filled with top of the line beauty products.

“Always so busy, Maître herboriste! I hear you have a little assistant, no?” The glimmer in his eyes tells you all you need to know.

Sighing, you nod. “Yes, I do have an assistant. No, you cannot hunt him.”

He gasps dramatically, hand flying over his heart. “I would never ask something like that! I just wish to…observe him a little closer than from the trees.”

“Trees?” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you inhale sharply before exhaling. “Have you been spying?”

“Non! Not spying, just observing.” His bright smile does nothing to make you feel better.

Now you’re starting to realize why Tsunotarou spent a lot of time glaring out the window as of late. He most likely sensed Rook and saw him as an unknown threat. And here you thought he’d liked watching the hens.

Heaving another weary sigh, you shake your head. “I don’t think coming would be a good idea. At least not alone. If Vil needs to drop by, you’re welcome to join.” Saying ‘no’ to Rook is useless. He’d just continue his spying or try something even more extreme if he really felt like it.

“Oh, so thoughtful of you! You truly are so très gentil!” He beams brightly.

After a few more compliments and praises, you manage to buy what you need and leave the shop. Rook can be a bit exhausting at times, but he means well. You just hope Tsunotarou doesn’t decide to roast him the moment he walks through the door.

---

You wake up suddenly from an odd dream. Yet, the moment you try to remember, it disappears. The feeling of the dream remains. Rolling over on your side, you reach for Tsunotarou but are met with nothing. Sitting up, you glance at the open window. Though you leave it open for him in case he ever wants to go out, you do sometimes worry. Sure he’s a dragon and can probably fend for himself, but you still remember how he looked when you first found him.

Getting out of bed, you head downstairs. Taking a quick peek out the window, you don’t see anything out of the ordinary. The full moon hangs low in the sky, illuminating the quiet night. Heading out the garden, you inhale the scent of moist grass and crisp air. It’s warm with a slight breeze, a nice night stare at the stars.

Sitting down on the bench swing in the back of the garden, you have a view of the cottage and the rows of plants growing. You idly swing your legs back and forth causing the bench to gently sway. The soft chirping of crickets and buzzing of insects fills the air. Fireflies lazily float by, giving the night an ethereal glow.

So distracted by the sight, you miss the approach of someone until they’re nearly standing a few feet away. Stiffening, you halt the lazy movements of the swing. Looking at the uninvited guest, you realize he’s the naked stranger from last time. Thankfully not naked this time.

He’s wrapped in a long black cloak that matches the inky color of his hair. Sharp, almost glowing peridot eyes gaze down at you. Your gaze lingers on the pointed ears and horns atop his head. His pale skin glows under the moon, almost making him seem ghostly.

“H-hello?” you greet, hesitantly. Unsure what else to say, you at least want to break the staring contest.

He smiles, flashing sharp incisors. “Hello, child of man. What brings you out?” His voice is smooth and low, like a warm whisper.

“Just couldn’t sleep,” you answer truthfully. “What are you doing here?” What you really want to ask is why he’s in your garden. It isn’t because you’re afraid, no he doesn’t give that sort of aurora. You’re genuinely curious why he’s here again. And since he’s not naked, your freak-out meter is low.

He gestures to the garden. “It’s very peaceful here at night. I thought I’d take a walk.” Pointing to the bench, he asks, “May I sit?”

You could say no. You really should say no. He’s a complete stranger, who you first saw in the nude. However, you nod and scoot over. The bench swing dips at the added weight. He quietly tips his head back to stare at the stars.

Leaning back, you observe the night sky. It’s been awhile since you’ve been able to just enjoy nature. Potions and salves keep you busy enough. By the time night comes, you’re dead on your feet. Though with the extra help, you aren’t so tired anymore. Having Tsunotarou around has made your life easier. And less lonely.

You didn’t realize how lonely you actually felt until he showed up. Sure Ace and Deuce visited sometimes, but it wasn’t often. You did correspond with some other people through letters, but it didn’t make up for the lack of physical contact. Though he can’t respond in words to what you say, he understands. He does his best to let you know he’s listening.

“You seem to be deep in thought, child of man,” the stranger interrupts.

Realizing he’s now staring at you intently, you sit up straighter. “Just thinking about stuff…”

“What sort of ‘stuff’ may I ask?” His tone is gentle and curious.

Looking away, you wonder if you’re really going to tell a stranger your worries. However, you don’t take much time to spill. “I recently made friends with…someone. And I realize now that as much as I enjoy my solitude, I was lonely. It’s funny how spending time with someone can change your views so quickly.”

He nods sagely. “Sometimes it only takes a little change to open our eyes.” Glancing at him, he seems to be lost in his own thoughts.

You continue, “I’ve gotten so comfortable with his presence that I’m afraid of what will happen when he leaves. Everyone has to leave at some point. And someone like him probably needs a change in scenery.”

“And have you asked this person if he wants to leave?” he asks, gaze once more focused on you.

You chuckle, scratching the back of your neck. “That would be easier than needless worry, wouldn’t it?”

“He did say humans can be very convoluted about their desires,” he muses.

An eyebrow goes up. “Oh?” Not sure who he’s referring to, you’re somewhat offended. But there’s truth in his words.

He nods but flashes what you assume is supposed to be a reassuring smile. “But I can say you are not like that.”

“How do you know that? We’ve just met! For all you know I could be the worst human you’ll ever meet,” you half tease.

He shakes his head. “No, you’re nothing like that.”

It’s almost as if he knows you. But that’s impossible! You’ve never spoken to him until now. The only time you’ve seen him was a month ago when he was standing naked in front of your chicken coop. You’d remember seeing someone as beautiful as him. Unless he’s someone like Rook, who likes to spy from afar. That sends an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

“How are you so sure?” you ask, curious to see what answer he’ll give.

His bright eyes sparkle. “I just have a good feeling.”

Since he’s not elaborating further, you can only nod. “So, this might sound rude, but you’re not human, right?”

Chuckling, he shakes his head. “That’s correct. I’m a fae. You may call me whatever you wish.”

You know very little about fae, though you vaguely recall a lesson on them. A species that had many different types, they’re well connected to magic, though some more than others. With their long life span, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if the fae next to you is hundreds of years old. And one more thing you remember is that fae don’t lie. They might twist the truth to fit their needs, but it’s never a lie.

“I’m not the best at giving nicknames, so I’ve been told,” you warn. Eyeing him, you try to wrack your brain for something. However, nothing comes to mind until your gaze settles on his horns. “Hornton!”

There’s a pause as he blinks twice. Then, he bursts out into laughter, throwing his head back. “You never cease to surprise me,” he says once he manages to gain his composure.

Shaking your head, you point out, “I did warn you.” But since he doesn’t seem offended by the name you’ve chosen, perhaps your nicknames aren’t so bad.

“It’s a wonderful name,” he reassures.

There’s a pause before you blurt out, “Why were you naked last time?” You immediately bite the inside of your mouth. It’s something that’s been bugging you for a while now.

“Certain circumstances made it so that I had no clothes at that moment,” he answers, not at all bothered.

“So where’d you get your clothes?” Did he steal them from someone’s laundry? Not that you’re too concerned with that. You do prefer him covered as you’re pretty sure seeing him naked again wouldn’t be good for your health.

“This was made by magic. Unfortunately my magic is being limited right now, or I would have created something more elaborate. And this won’t last for very long.” He plucks at the black fabric, brows creasing.

So he’ll be naked. Again. Covering your face with both hands, you mutter, “So you’re suddenly going to lose your magically made clothes?”

“Something like that.” His tone is nonchalant as if the idea of being naked in front of a stranger isn’t concerning.

This really sounds like a Cinderella moment except it’s way past midnight. A deep sigh escapes your lips. Perhaps fae aren’t as concerned with nudity as humans. Or perhaps it’s just this particular fae.

“Is something the matter?”

You quickly shake your head. “No. All good!” Deciding to take your mind off the topic, you switch gears. “So where’s home?”

“Briar Valley. It’s a small place west of the Queendom of Roses.” You’ve heard of Briar Valley. Though you haven’t traveled since your school days, you have a vague idea of where he’s from.

“It’s noted for its black forest, right?” Something you recall reading about places to visit. You’re not sure if you would want to visit the forest considering it’s said no one comes out.

He nods. “Yes, though I’d suggest against visiting. Humans tend to get lost in the forest unless guided by a fae who knows the area. Even then, some fae can get lost too.”

“Definitely not on my bucket list,” you mumble.

“You should come visit Briar Valley. It’s quite charming. I’d love to show you around.” He grins, eyes glimmering.

Ace and Deuce would probably berate you for this, but they’re not here. “Sure! Traveling isn’t something I’ve thought about, but I wouldn’t mind going away once and awhile. A friend from school, Kalim, has been asking me to visit him in the Scalding Sands. But I always put it off because of work.”

“I’ve only been to the Scalding Sands when I was a child,” he muses. His brows draw together as if trying to recall something. He shakes his head. “I wonder how much has changed since then…”

“We can go together someday.” You can almost hear the duo shouting at you. Maybe you shouldn’t be making deals with a fae. But you’ve always been a bit reckless. You haven’t done anything dumb in a long time.

He smiles. “Wonderful! I can’t wait.”

---

You wake up feeling tired and groggy. Maybe staying up to chat until the sky started turning light wasn’t the best idea. However, it was nice to speak with someone. Your new friend had bid you goodnight once the first rays of light started peeking through the horizon. He promised to visit the next full moon, which you found odd, but chalked it up to fae stuff.

Yawning for the nth time, Tsunotarou chirps worryingly. “I’m okay. Just didn’t get much sleep last night.” You pat his head. “We don’t have much to do today, thankfully. Think I’ll take a nap later.”

However, just as the words leave your mouth, there’s a sharp knock at your door. “Bonjour, Maître herboriste! Vil and I wanted to pay you a visit.” You sigh as you recognize Rook right away. He doesn’t even need to complete the sentence and you know it’s him.

Tsunotarou bristles. “It’s okay,” you reassure. “They’re friends. No need to set anyone on fire. I know Rook has been spying, but he doesn’t mean any harm.” You hold your hands out in a stop motion. He settles down a little, but his eyes remain narrowed.

Opening the door, you give the two what you hope is a pleasant smile. “Hello, you two. I didn’t think you’d be coming around today.”

Vil sighs. “I’ve been working with Riddle, but I decided I needed to see the dragon for myself. And you know why Rook is here.”

Said huntsman gives you a cheery wave. “Oh! Is that the magnificent creature?!” Spotting Tsunotarou from over your shoulder, you step aside to let the two in.

Rook makes a beeline for him. “Simply magnifique! He’s gotten even bigger than last time!” While Rook is busy studying Tsunotarou from all angles, Vil examines him from afar.

“He is a sight,” the guild master murmurs. “From Riddle’s description, the measurements are off. Though he did mention that the creature seems to be growing in size. How much has he grown since the last time?”

Scratching your head, you shrug. “Not sure. I don’t keep track, but he does seem a little larger than yesterday.” Maybe ‘a little’ is an understatement. His head reaches your shoulder when he’s sitting on the floor. You woke up to him taking up half the bed.

“I do sense the magic. It’s as potent as Riddle said. This won’t be easy and we might not be able to do anything,” Vil tells you. His attention is momentarily taken away as he leans in closer to your face.

You inch back under his scrutinizing gaze. “Vil?”

“You have bags under your eyes. What have I told you about getting proper sleep, spudling? Sleep is vital not just so we look refreshed but so we feel refreshed.” He shakes his head. “Tsk, it seems all my lessons on good health have been for naught.”

“I’m sleeping fine, Vil. I just couldn’t sleep last night, that’s all. I promise it’s not a common occurrence.” Eyes darting over to Rook and Tsunotarou, you attempt to turn the conversation away from you. “Anyways, will Riddle be coming over too?”

“This conversation isn’t over,” he warns. “Not today. He has some things with his guild he needs to take care of. I just wanted to come here and take a look at what we’re dealing with. There’s no potion in this world that’ll be able to break a curse of this magnitude.”

Tsunotarou, completely ignoring Rook now, is focused on Vil. The two stare at each other much like the staring contest Riddle had. Vil chuckles. “He’s a smart one. Already assessing if I’m a threat, it seems.”

“Of course! Such a powerful creature recognizes a powerful mage!” Rook pipes in between taking pictures.

“We should head back to the guild. I need to do more research now that I know what we’re dealing with.” He pauses and turns to you, “Can I speak to you outside?”

“I’ll be right back,” you call to Tsunotarou before leading the two outside. Coming to the front gate, Vil stops before glancing back at your cottage. “What’s up?”

In a low tone, he says, “You probably don’t realize this, but that creature in there is dangerous.”

“Aren’t all dragons da-”

He cuts you off. “That’s not what I meant. I’ve seen a few dragons before but none as powerful as this one. The magic radiates off him in waves. I’m not sure if Riddle didn’t notice because of the curse or if something has changed since last time. I’d be careful with him. Dragons are temperamental creatures by nature.”

“Tsunotarou wouldn’t hurt me. At least not intentionally,” you argue. “He’s different and I trust him.”

“Tsk. Still reckless as ever. Just keep what I said in mind.” You can see the concern in his eyes.

“I’ll be careful,” you promise.

---

“What are these?” Horton asks.

You had handed him a bundle the moment he appeared. “Clothes. I had to guess your size, but I think they’ll fit.”

He seems surprised. “For me?”

“I thought real clothes might be better than magically made clothes that only last for a while,” you explain.

You had asked Jack for advice on what to get considering you didn’t know his size. He looked to be a little bigger than Jack, so you hoped the bundle the beastman got together would fit. Jack had mumbled something about underwear while looking away, so you can only assume there’s undergarments in the package.

“Thank you, child of man. This is a wonderful gift.” He looks all too pleased to receive a plain white shirt and black pants.

The way he’s looking at you is like you gave him the greatest gift in the world. “They didn’t cost me much, so it’s nothing big.”

“May I put them on?”

“Sure.” The moment those words are out of your mouth, he snaps his fingers and the outfit he was wearing disappears in a flash of green. “A little warning!” you shout, covering your eyes.

There’s a chuckle and you can only imagine the amused look on his dumb face. The rustle of fabric is all you hear. After a few moments, he says, “I am dressed.”

Pulling your hands away, you’re quite pleased to see that the clothes mostly fit. The pants are a little short, coming a little above his ankle. “You look great!”

He holds up a thin white string. “Is this meant to go somewhere?”

Laughing, you take the tie from him. “Come sit.” While he sits down, you hover over him. “It’s mostly for decoration, but you just weave it through the holes up here to make a crisscross pattern.”

Leaning down, you carefully pull the string through the loops of his shirt. After fiddling for a bit to make sure it’s even, you glance up. “Perfect!”

Your eyes meet and you suddenly realize how close to his face you are. “Thank you.”

He’s probably the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. Sorry Vil. With long, thick eyelashes that brush against his pale skin, you wonder absently if all fae are as beautiful. Up close, you can even see the specks of darker green in his eyes.

“So pretty,” you whisper.

His eyes widen and there’s a sharp intake of breath. Realizing you just said that aloud, you pull back with a jerk. You suddenly find interest in something far away. “A-anyways, I hope the clothes are comfortable. Cotton is good for this weather even at night. I guess I should’ve gotten you shoes too,” you ramble.

“You’ve already given me so much. Thank you again, child of man.” The way he thanks you is almost reverent. “I wish to return the favor. Is there anything you want?”

Quickly shaking your head, you can’t imagine taking anything from him for something so simple. “No, I don’t need anything.”

He frowns. “Are you sure? Aren’t you supposed to return the favor when receiving a gift?”

“Not all gifts require something in return. This is something I wanted to do, so don’t worry about giving me anything.” His brows are still drawn together.

Tilting his head to the side, he studies you. “You’re very strange for a human. Many would jump at the chance to receive a favor from a fae.”

The pressure of his gaze makes you nervous. Looking away, you stare at the grass. “Like you said, I’m a strange human.”

His chuckle sends a shiver down your spine. “Yes, very strange. But that’s what makes you so charming.”

You ignore the fluttering of your heart.

---

Waking up to being half smothered to death by a dragon has become the norm. Tsunotarou has grown so big, your full sized bed is starting to feel too small. At this rate you might need an upgrade. You don’t mind that he’s grown, it’s just waking up because you can’t breathe isn’t the most pleasant.

“I’m pretty sure you're almost as tall as Riddle with his shoes on…” You eye him as he sits patiently on the stool while you stir the cauldron.

Tsunotarou makes a noise in the back of his throat. “I’m not complaining about your sudden growth spurt. Just that we might have an issue with sleeping if you keep getting bigger.”

You toss in a few dried rosebuds. Stirring clockwise three times, you pour in a handful of pink sand. Tsunotarou drops a jar of fresh newt tails in your outstretched hand. You throw in a handful of those before stirring counterclockwise four times. The concoction bubbles and steams before changing colors.

“Hmm… That should be enough for six bottles.” While you pour the potion into bottles, he corks them before putting them on the table in a neat row.

You’re almost done when you hear loud, angry clucking. Then an even louder voice. “GET OFF YOU FOUL BIRDS!”

Glancing at your dragon companion, he doesn’t seem concerned about the sudden commotion. “Alright, guess we get another guest.” You can’t pinpoint the voice as anyone you know.

Taking a look out your window, you can see the three hens surrounding a very angry looking person. He waves his arms around trying to scare them off, but the three ladies just continue to peck at his boots.

There’s another person standing next to him, but he doesn’t do anything. The more you look, the more you think the silver haired one is sleeping. If he is sleeping, it’s quite a feat to do while on his feet and next to someone shouting.

Deciding to try and save your hens, you step outside. You let out an ear piercing whistle, which causes the green haired to stop his shouting. The one sleeping blinks awake as well. The three hens leave the stranger alone to go back into the coop. Though you note that Merryweather gives his boot one last peck for good measure.

“Can I help you two?” you ask once the hens are gone.

The loud one straightens his outfit before clearing his throat. “WHAT KIND OF HUMAN ALLOWS PEOPLE TO BE ATTACKED BY SUCH VICIOUS BIRDS?!”

You resist the urge to plug your ears. “They tend to not like strangers wandering near their coop. Also, no need to shout.”

He seems to stand up straighter and open his mouth, but the other one quickly intervenes. “We apologize for trespassing. My name is Silver and this is Sebek.”

“DON’T GO GIVING MY NAME TO THE HUMAN, SILVER!” Sebek admonishes.

After a beat, you ask once more, “Can I help you?”

“We’re looking for someone. A signal was sent from somewhere in the area,” Silver explains.

“I’m not in town as often, so I might not be the best person to ask. I’d suggest trying the guilds in town.” You gesture in the general direction of the main road.

Giving you a brief bow, Silver nods. “Thank you.” He turns to his companion. “We should head to town then.”

“Hold on! We might as well ask if the human has seen him. It’s hard not to notice such a magnificent person,” Sebek says, pointing at the human in question. His eyes zero in on you. “Human, have you seen the great Malleus Draconia?”

Your face twisted into something akin to confusion. “Who?”

The green haired one lets out a gasp. He looks equally offended and shocked. “YOU DON’T KNOW WHO THE GREAT MALLEUS DRACONIA IS!?!”

You proceed to plug your ears. Forget about being polite! “Can you stop yelling? And yes, I have no idea who you’re referring to. Like I said, check with the guilds.”

“How can someone not know the glorious young master???” He mutters to himself, not hearing a single word you said.

Giving you an apologetic look, Silver tugs his companion. “Thank you.”

Once they disappear down the road, you go inside. Tsunotarou, who had been peeking through the window, turns to you. He makes a series of grumbles. “I have no idea what that was about.” Shrugging, you go back to your potions.

After packaging everything, you plop down on the sofa with a deep sigh. “I’m already tired and it isn’t even that late.” Huffing, you close your eyes. The sofa dips and extra weight is dropped on your lap.

Tsunotarou rests his head in your lap while chirping at you. Opening your eyes, you chuckle. “Hey, you.” You affectionately rub his head. Adjusting your position so you’re laying across the sofa, Tsunotarou nestles half on top of you. His tail hangs off the couch and onto the floor.

“Ooof! You’re getting a little too big for this.” With his head resting on your chest, he peers up at you. “Don’t look at me like that! I’m just stating a fact. You’ve grown a lot.”

Scratching him around his horns, you can’t help but study them. They remind you of something, but your brain is too tired to figure it out. “Ever since you’ve come into my life, it seems my days aren’t so monotonous. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the quiet and routine. But I’ve come to realize I cherish having you around.”

He gurgles happily. “But you’ll have to leave someday, right? You can’t stay here forever and if you continue to grow, I don’t think the cottage will be enough.” Chuckling to yourself, you’re reminded of the conversation you had with Hornton.

Tsunotarou nudges your cheek with his snout. “Do you want to leave?” you ask. He shakes his head while making a few noises. “I don’t want you to leave either. But I don’t think we’ll have much of a choice. We’ll deal with it when the time comes.”

The two of you doze lightly, but a sudden knock on the door sends you tumbling off the couch. Tsunotarou somehow managed to catch himself as he peers down at you. “Who’s visiting at this hour?!” Grunting, you get up and march to the door.

You’re greeted by the two from before. The shorter of the two opens his mouth to speak but is quickly interrupted by his companion with the loud mouth. “HOW DARE YOU LIE TO US, HUMAN!”

“W-what?!” Confused, you look between the two. “Can someone explain what I supposedly lied about. Without yelling.”

“Excuse me!” Riddle shoves his way from the back. You hadn’t even noticed there were more people. Ace and Deuce pop up as well giving you nervous looks.

Riddle holds his hand up to prevent the green one from shouting. “Sorry about that. They came saying they were looking for someone. After they explained what happened, I figured out who it was they’re looking for. And rule 233 states I should escort guests to their desired location.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain the accusation.” You’re too tired to be nice.

Shaking his head, Riddle sighs. “They’re looking for him.” He points over your shoulder. All eyes turn to the dragon sitting on the couch.

“Young master!”

“Your highness!”

Sebek pushes his way past you to get inside. Grumbling a few not so nice words under your breath, you allow the rest to come in as well. Sebek falls to his knees in front of the dragon while wailing something incomprehensible.

Silver turns to you. “I apologize for the accusation. Sebek can be a little…excitable when it comes to his highness.”

“Highness? Wait, so Tsunotarou is a prince?!” Angry green eyes turn to you.

“HOW DARE YOU REFER TO HIM WITH SUCH A VULGAR NAME!” Even Riddle looks put out. Seeming to realize his volume, he tones down just a little. “Not only did you kidnap him, but you subjected him to a ridiculous name?!”

Ace and Deuce move to stand in front of you when Sebek advances. “It’s okay guys. I’m not afraid of him.” The two give worried looks as you step forward. “Listen here. I did not kidnap him. I found him unconscious and injured in the woods. I took care of him and he’s been staying with me of his own free will. Tsunotarou is free to leave whenever he wants.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you stop him with a sharp look. “I don’t appreciate people barging into my house making accusations! So, sit down and use your inside voice or I will kick you out on your ass!”

Ace lets out a low whistle as Sebek stands there slack jawed. “Are we done now?” Riddle asks, having taken a seat during your little speech.

There’s a moment of silence before Silver gives a small cough. “Again, I apologize for everything. We’ve been looking all over for his highness for a while.”

“It’s fine. Let’s sit down and have a civil discussion.” You take a seat on the couch. Tsunoartou sticks to your side despite the forlorn look Sebek gives him.

Once everyone is sitting, you gesture to the two. “So, who are you?”

“As we said before, I am Silver and this is Sebek. We are personal guards for his royal highness, prince Malleus Draconia,” he explains.

Looking at the dragon leaning against your side, you eye him curiously. “So you’re actually a prince?” He gives a nod. “You do know I was joking about the whole cursed prince thing, right?”

He grumbles deep in his throat, seeming not too pleased about something. “Your prince is a small dragon?” Deuce asks, scratching his cheek as he tries to wrap his head around it all.

“Of course not!” Sebek glares at him. “The young master’s true form is much more elegant and refined. Even his real dragon form is better than this! Not that you humans would understand the beauty of fae.”

“So how did he end up like that?” Ace pipes in.

Pressing his fingers to his temple, Silver sighs deeply. “It was punishment from his grandmother for not doing his duty. We didn’t think he would get carried off by a demon crow when we weren’t looking.”

“What kind of person is your grandmother to curse her own grandson? Scary…” It sends a shiver down your spine. His grandmother must be very powerful since both Vil and Riddle said the curse was created with old magic.

“The curse thing has happened before,” Silver explains, not sounding concerned at all. “Getting lost is new.”

“He’s been living with me for almost a year, and you just decided to search for him?” If he’s a prince, shouldn’t they have been looking for him sooner?

Silver sighs. “The queen assured us that he was fine and ordered us not to search for him. However, a few weeks ago, she told us to find him. I’m not sure why she changed her mind…”

“I assume the one who put the curse on him can take it off? We’ve been studying ways to lift the curse, but haven’t had any luck.” Riddle’s cheeks are puffed out, most likely annoyed that he couldn’t find a way to break the curse himself.

Silver nods. “Yes. We will take him back home so the queen can lift the curse. Though looking at his form, it seems his own magic was working on breaking the curse from within. I’m sure fath-Lilia will be interested to hear this…”

The two stand up. “We need to head back home, immediately!” Sebek announces.

“Right now? But it’s night time. It could be dangerous,” you point out.

“We’ll be fine. We have a charm that will take us directly to the castle,” Silver explains.

“Of course you do.” You can’t delay the inevitable. “Can I have a moment alone with him? Please?”

“Of course. We will wait outside.” Despite Sebek’s protests, the two head out.

Riddle, Ace and Deuce also stand to leave. “I’ll head back to town to let Vil know what happened.”

“We'll be outside if you need us,” Deuce informs you.

Once everyone leaves, it’s just you and Tsunotarou once more. Suddenly a heavy feeling settles on your chest. “You’re leaving… I guess the time has come, Tsunotarou. Sooner than I would like, but you have to go home.”

Sitting up to his full height, he places his front paws on your shoulders. Staring at eye level, he silently conveys his message. Chuckling, you press your forehead against his. Wrapping your arms around his body, you give him a squeeze.

“I’ll see you soon Tsuno-no, that’s not your name. I’ll see you soon, Malleus.” Pulling away, you press a kiss to his forehead. He freezes while his eyes widen. You laugh at his shocked expression. “I just wanted to see if it would work.”

You give him one last hug. You’re not sure when you'll see him again, but you have a feeling you will. You just have to wait.

---

Half a year goes by and things return back to how it was before you found Malleus. The same routine that you once found comfort in feels empty. You go through the motions but none of it really registers. You tell yourself you’ll get back into the groove of things eventually. You’re lying.

Ace and Deuce drop by more often, which you appreciate. Though they don’t say it, they know you’re feeling down. However, they can only stay for so long before they’ll have to find a new commission to take.

“Hey, do you guys actually know who Malleus Draconia is?” Ace asks one day over breakfast.

Deuce throws him a look, but you wave him off. “It’s fine, Deuce. It’s not like we can’t talk about him. And no, I don't know who he is.”

“He’s the next king of Briar Valley! And he’s considered one of the most powerful mages in the world! Can you believe that someone that scary was living with you?!”

You shrug, not really caring. “To me, he was just Tsunotarou. And even now that I know who he is, I don’t care.”

Ace snorts. “Of course you wouldn’t. Still, can you imagine how powerful his grandmother is? That’s one terrifying family you don’t want to mess with.”

“Though now that you mention it, Briar Valley sounds familiar…” Thoughtful chewing on a piece of bread, you wrack your brain. “Oh! That’s where Hornton is from!”

“Horn-what? Who’s that?” Deuce asks between mouthfuls of food.

Taking a sip of your juice, you nonchalantly reply, “You know the naked stranger I mentioned a long time ago. Turns out he’s from Briar Valley too.”

“Are you asking to be killed? Why would you talk to someone who can’t even wear clothes?!” Ace looks at you like you’ve grown too heads. “And what kind of name is Hornton?”

“It’s a nickname. He didn’t give me his real name so I gave him one.”

Rolling his eyes, Ace shoves the rest of his breakfast in his mouth. “Yew swuk at maming!” Bits of food fly out of his mouth. You childishly stick your tongue out.

Deuce is quiet before asking, “Have you seen him recently?”

“No. He usually shows up during the full moon, but I haven’t seen him.” You did spend a few full moon nights waiting, but he never came. After a few times, you gave up. “Now that I think about it, he hasn’t shown up since Tsunotarou left…”

“...”

“You met one of the most powerful beings in the world and not only did you give him one dumb name, but two?!!”

“I didn’t know!”

Covering your face, you let out a frustrated groan. The table falls silent once more. Then from the redhead in a barely contained laugh, “So, you saw his crown jewels?”

“Ace!” Deuce's face turns bright red.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” There’s a pause before the table erupts into laughter. Sometimes you question your choice of friends, but at times like these, you’re grateful for them.

---

“Do you have everything?” Deuce asks for the umpteenth time.

You adjust the straps to your bag. “Yup! I’ll be back in a few weeks at most. Just don’t burn down my home. Please.”

“I’m not that bad! If anything Deuce will burn down the cottage,” Ace shouts in the background. Merryweather gives his shoe a hard peck. “Evil bird!”

Shaking your head, you turn to Deuce. “I want all my ladies to be here when I get back. Or else.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,” he reassures. However, seeing Ace run away from three angry hens does little to relieve your concerns.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go…”

“Go! You got a personal invite from a prince to visit.” He waves you off. “Anyways, Trey will be coming to make sure your house is okay.”

“At least someone responsible will be here,” you mutter. Giving Deuce one last goodbye, you head over to where Sebek and Silver are waiting just outside your front gate. “Be nice to them, Ace!” you shout.

He’s too busy trying to fend off the hens to say much. “They truly are vicious creatures. Are you sure you didn’t train them to attack?” Sebek shudders at the sight of the redhead getting pecked at.

“They’re just overprotective. So, how are we getting to Briar Valley?” With a suitcase and backpack, you’re ready to leave home for the first time in a long time. Malleus’s invitation is safely tucked away in your bag.

Silver produces a small piece of paper from his pocket. You note there are some ruins written on it. “Everyone, hold on to me.” Placing a hand on his shoulder, he rips the paper in half. The ruins light up momentarily, before you’re engulfed in a blinding light.

You blink rapidly, trying to clear the spots dancing in your vision. Once you can see again, you look around. No longer home, you’re standing in front of a gate. A marvelous castle looms above. Despite all the opulence, you’re solely focused on the figure standing on the path leading to the castle.

Pushing through the gate, you rush forward. “W-wait!” You ignore Sebek’s shout.

Stopping just a few feet away, you break out into a grin. “I see you’re wearing clothes this time.”

He returns the smile with one of his own. “I wanted to look my best to greet you. You’re a very important guest after all.”

“Can I give you a hug or is that breaking decorum?” you ask, ignoring Sebek’s sputters of protest.

“Come on, Sebek. Fath-Lilia wanted us to see him right when we returned.” There’s a few words exchanged, but they leave you two alone.

Malleus opens his arms. “I would like that very much.”

Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around him. Despite not knowing Tsunotarou and Horton were one and the same until recently, there’s a sense of familiarity. He might not be a scaly black dragon like you’re used to, but he holds the same scent and warmth. His gaze has the same wonder and affection.

He nuzzles the top of your head. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Pulling away, you take his hand. “Though I do kinda miss your little dragon form,” you tease.

Malleus squeezes your hand. “Perhaps I should ask grandmother to curse me once more?”

“No!” However, you note the way his brows are lifted and his mouth quirks up. “You’re teasing me, right?”

“Of course. I guess I missed the mark on that.” He shakes his head. “Before I can show you around, grandmother would like to meet you.”

“Right now? I’m not even presentable!” This is not what you expected. You’ve only been in Briar Valley for a whole 5 minutes, and now you’re expected to meet the queen!?

Malleus doesn’t seem worried, though. “You look wonderful as always. Come, let us be off.”

Before you can protest, he pulls you to his chest. Arm around your waist, you temporarily lose the ability to think as you’ve never been this close to him before. Well at least not in this form. In a blink, you’re no longer standing outside the castle.

You stand in a large gazebo surrounded by rose bushes as far as the eye can see. They’re all in full bloom. There’s a lot of time and effort put into the garden. You also notice a rather scary looking gargoyle further away.

Someone hums with interest causing you to turn your attention away from the roses. The only other occupant in the gazebo is a regal looking woman holding a teacup. A table filled with small dishes and a tea set are laid before her. She has the same inky black hair as Malleus, though you note streaks of white in her impeccable style. Her horns are intricately decorated with delicate gold chains studded with gems. Green eyes flash with interest as she sets down the teacup without making a sound.

“Malleus, what a lovely surprise. Who is this?” she asks, eyes never leaving you. Her knowing gaze sees right into your very soul.

“Grandmother, I’d like to introduce to you (Y/N).” You realize he’s still holding you close to his side. Disentangling yourself for him while stepping away at a respectable distance. You don’t know if you should be bowing. She is the queen after all!

She smiles, revealing shiny, white teeth. You briefly wonder if the smile is meant to be inviting or intimidating. Maybe both. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, little human. My grandson has been talking about you non-stop since he came home. And I must say, you’re as adorable as he described~”

“I-It’s nice to m-meet yo-you too, your highness!” Did she just call you adorable?? Your neck prickles as you suddenly feel too warm.

She stands up, towering over your form. Not only is she intimidating just by her aura but also in height! “Hoho, so formal! You can call me grandmother.”

There’s silence as your brain stutters to a halt. You can hear Malleus let out a deep breath while the queen's laughter echoes in the garden.

Tagging: @starsilluminateourgalaxy @stormyovent0aster @hanafubukki @mscarterakaviola98 @sparkleypancakez @youaskedfurret @yokokai @hajimeseyo @ravenlking @peter-the-pan @enchanted-nerd @nocturneabyss @chaasworld @lechuko @bloomsapphire @amar-farasha @itszzmoon @xlifexdeathx @supernovaicloud @mysterypotatoink @illytian @depressed-bitchy-demon @cheyuma @liquidfurby @bigcandlesmolbrain @thetruepair @chibishae34 @strawberry-soap-bar @sus0daddy @inana-mm @liliaviper @musclefanatica @loivre @chuchotheblackcat @lorkai

#twst imagines #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #reader insert #scenario

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jamespotterismydaddy · 2 months

Text

Five Long Years (Chapter 2)

aemond x niece!reader

WARNINGS: kinda suggestive but thats is

WORDCOUNT: 1,290 words

last chapter series masterlist

You feel embarrassed by the whole interaction. Storming off yesterday surely didn’t make him think of you any less like a child but that embarrassment quickly turns to anger. He’s the one who acted rudely and you fancy him no longer. There’s hardly any way you could’ve loved him anyhow. You can’t love someone you don’t even know. You’ve changed in five years but so has he; a letter once a month isn’t enough to understand someone.

You change into your dress for the day, hoping you won’t have to interact with your uncle. If he doesn’t think you’re a woman now, then he’ll surely understand when he sees your gown. It’s respectable enough but clearly shows your curves as well. You look like a true lady in it, a true desirable lady. Not that you want to be desired by him… you perhaps just want to be seen by him…

You walk down the halls with your handmaidens and right past him. You wait… wait for him to call your name… and nothing. Nothing? He doesn’t call out for you, he doesn’t want to speak to you. Did he even look at you?

But he did. You never saw as his gaze followed when you walked past. He thought you looked ravishing but he also wanted to give you your space.

Perhaps I just made myself look even more childish. You shouldn’t care what he thinks. If he believes you’re a child then that’s that. Changing how you are to appeal to him is pathetic. A woman like you can get any man she wants. You don’t need your pretentious uncle.

“Ser, Brandon.” You greet the young knight, a handsome man who’s worthy of your attention. “How do you fare today?”

“Much better now that I am in such company, princess.” He replies with a pleasing smile. “Perhaps I could take you for a turn about the gardens?”

He doesn’t waste any time. You think to yourself. Ser Brandon may be a knight but he is also a second son. Even the possibility of a betrothal to a princess is much more than a second son could ever ask for. Just your conversation is a prize to him. Though, he doesn’t act like it.

“I would like that very much. I haven’t yet had a chance to be in the sun today.” You say politely.

“Yes, I think the weather must be far too cold for the liking of a dragon-rider.” You take his arm as he speaks to you. When you walk past Aemond this time, you don’t even check to see if he’s watching.

But he is most definitely watching, and thinking about why his rūs mandianna is spending her time with a wretched rake like the Tyrell boy. The cunt is barely out of his teens and he’s probably fucked enough women for his cock to fall off. He is no company for a princess, especially not you.

You have fun with Brandon anyways. He is flirtatious and charming and you make plans to have luncheon with him the next day. You think about your time spent with him as you make your way down to the library that evening. It may be late, but it’s most definitely not unheard of for you to be selecting a book at such a time. The guards have become accustomed to your presence; you just can’t find anything more relaxing than having the massive library of the Red Keep all to yourself.

Though tonight, you do not have it all to yourself. Aemond is there, looking like the epitome of Valyrian beauty standing at one of the bookshelves. You’ve always thought that he must have been pulled from the gods’ design and been placed in this world just to be desired. No man should be so tempting as he is.

“I would advise you to be more careful with your company.” He murmurs without looking away from the shelf.

“I don’t recall requesting your advice.” You snap before composing yourself. You didn’t even realize that he saw you.

“You ought to watch your tongue, mandianna. You are, of course, a woman grown but I am still your elder. Myself and my advice should be respected by you, and I know about the ways of men.” He looks at you now.

“I apologize.” You say unseriously, frustrated that you immediately understand that he is speaking of Ser Brandon and does not hold him in high esteem. “I do find that I have difficulty accepting counsel when it is unsolicited, kepus.” You bite back with a restrained level of snark and the corner of his lip quirks up. “Do you find my irritation amusing?” You ask, annoyed by his smile.

“No, I appreciate your boldness. You aren’t as reserved as you once were.” He says genuinely.

“I thought a man as pious as you would believe women should be meek.”

“Do you wish that I wanted you to be subservient?” He is completely facing you now, any books on the shelves long forgotten.

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Hmm…” His smirk must be from amusement now. “I do not want that from you.”

“That is interesting when you were just commanding my respect only moments ago.”

“I wish for you to honour me and my wisdom, not to submit.” He steps a little closer to you and you step to the side. You watch how his body follows to face you.

“Your age does not mean you hold so much wisdom over me.” You say defiantly.

“Doesn’t it?… naughty rūs.” He tuts under his breath and your cheeks burn at the teasing words.

“Don’t call me that.” He steps forward.

“Why? Just because you are grown now doesn’t mean you don’t have things to learn.” He gets closer and your back hits the bookshelf as you try to move away.

“Do you wish to teach me things or do you enjoy the idea of caging a free bird?” He’s so close to you now that you have to tilt your head up to look him in the eye.

“I would never desire to cage a woman like you.” His hands come up beside each side of your head, caging you in in a different way.

“Well, I currently feel very confined.” You murmur quietly. There’s no need for anything above a whisper when he can practically taste your words.

“Not confined… enveloped.” He breathes back.

“I won’t fall fancy to your flowery words.”

“I’m not trying to trick you.” His mouth moves close so he can whisper in your ear before his lips brush gently against it.

“Aemond…” You breathe out in surprise.

“You have changed so much these past years.” And it means something entirely different when he says it now.

“You have as well.” Is all you can say to reply.

“You have become so…” He tilts his head to the side so his lips are a centimetre away from yours. “Alluring.”

You think he may kiss you. You think you may also want him to kiss you. It would be so so easy; it could be so quick… if it weren’t for the sound of the library door opening. Aemond is quick to move away so it doesn’t even look like he was seconds away from ravishing you. You, on the other hand, are flushed and breathing heavily. Luckily, the old lord that enters doesn’t even look your way as he goes right to find his intended scroll.

Aemond looks back at you. “You might meet me here again tomorrow evening?” He seems to ask but cuts off any possible answer from you by speaking again. “It would please me greatly, mandianna.”

And with that, he’s gone.

taglists(comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

Five long years: @ewanmitchellconnoisseur @moonlightfoxx @toodlesxcuddles @dixie-elocin @cloudroomblog @scarletbedlam @qyburnsghost @urbanleftovers @lothiriel9 @katzarantos @leia-isabell @thestarlithideout

#aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #hotd x reader #hotd #five long years

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wisteria-blooms · 6 months

Text

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (5/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what (Let me know if I missed you, or if you want to be added!) A/N: Thank you guys for the sweet comments! I love reading them and they make me write faster, apparently, haha. Let me know if you have any predictions! I'm super curious. ;)

CHAPTER 5: You get a lot more than you bargained for when Charlie shows up at dinner. For one, how does he manage to make politics, sexy? (4.7k words)

CHAPTER 5: ELECTRIC POLITICS

You were cloaked in warm and well slept-in sheets. You nestled yourself in that comfort for another moment before turning onto your back and cracking an eye open. Above you was a familiar tall and white ceiling. Yep, you were definitely back in your bed. It was always in the earliest of mornings that for the briefest of moments, your mind was inclined to forget what had happened the night before. As your lucidity grew, figments of last night came to you slowly.

You were at a bar with Charlie, talking about plans…

…That he shredded.

Right, that happened.

But had it all been a dream? Maybe it was still the morning after that disastrous dinner and your subconscious had plotted out the past couple of “days”.

You pulled your covers off and stared at your naked kneecap. There was a light bruise, a pale spot of red, from when Charlie was trying to ‘gauge’ your limits or whatever he’d called it. To think he’d left a mark by just casually holding your knee in his hand, not even intently putting pressure on it. To think if he’d done anything with intent…

“Get a grip on yourself,” you chastised, fanning away thoughts that were too lewd for the morning. You were growing annoyed with yourself after losing every shroud of strong-headedness you had. Charlie was just attractive and confident. But so were thousands of other men in the world, so why did he get to control your narrative last night?

You exhaled, resolving to think about it later, then walked over to the closet to dress for the day.

Narcissa was the only one in the sunroom when you arrived. It looked like your father and Draco had already had breakfast and gone off to do whatever the day asked of them.

“Good morning,” you greeted, slipping into your chair.

“You got in late last night,” Narcissa responded.

You shrugged. “It was Friday, and I’m young.”

There was a wrinkle of disapproval on her mouth. By now, Lucius would’ve told her about Charlie and about your little scene last weekend at the cafe, and she would’ve filled in your whereabouts last night with that information.

She looked out the garden and then back at you. “What does your schedule look like in a month’s time? Say, the second Sunday of October?”

“I imagine it’s free.”

“You best keep it open, then,” Narcissa continued. “My monthly book club is inviting a prolific author for tea. I would like you to join us.”

“Oh?” She’d certainly piqued your interest. “Who?”

“Madame Millicent,” she said. “She’s been praised as the face of female empowerment in the literary world.”

Female empowerment. This was exactly what you needed after you let Charlie throw you around like a rag doll, falling docile to his every touch and word. Hm, maybe having tea with this Madame Millicent wouldn’t be so bad.

The problem was that you hadn’t even heard of her. “What should I read to prepare?”

“That’s up to you,” Narcissa advised. “Choose a title of hers that interests you. She has three titles out now. I have everything in the study.”

You nodded. You had about a month which gave you more than a week to clear each book.

You had your coffee and pastry with a side of small talk, chatting with your mother about mundane topics like what her book club was reading this week and what she was doing this weekend.

Before you knew it, it was Friday afternoon, the day before the dinner. This day in particular, you found comfort in sitting on the couch in Fred and George’s flat with free use of their owl, writing letters to Charlie. This old rickety couch was now your favourite creative outlet, you supposed.

You hoped Charlie wasn’t fickle in his decisions, so you had to confirm he would be present tomorrow.

Hi, Charlie We’re still on for tomorrow?

Of course.

What are you wearing

Just then, a loud explosion sounded outside. Your jerky response drew out the 'g' in your sentence. You set the quill down on the coffee table, walked to the main door, opened it, and looked to the room adjacent to the flat.

“Are you alright?” you called out into the abyss.

You saw a thumbs up against a plum of black smoke, so you retreated back to the couch. When you returned, the letter was gone along with the owl. Minutes later, the owl returned with another letter.

I don’t have to tell you how improper that sounds, (Y/N). I’m saving this letter for a later date.

You wrote back with a reddening face.

You know I mean for this Saturday. And burn it, please.

The same old thing I always do. Is that okay?

An attire of a jean jacket thrown over a comfortably worn t-shirt would make your classist father curl with rage. It was perfect.

Of course. Remember, we’re at 8 Estates Lane and dinner starts at 6 p.m. If you end up at 6 Estates Lane, you may encounter Cecile, a widow, who’s just getting over her late husband. She’s still healing, so best to leave her alone.

Got it. See you at six tomorrow, (Y/N) darling.

In the time it took to read Charlie’s letter, Fred had tiptoed in and peered over your shoulder.

“Why don’t you just talk to him in person?”

“Because,” you sighed, turning around to poke him in the face with a quill, “You make fun of me when I come over now, and Charlie doesn’t seem to like to play by the books.”

“What do you mean?”

“He shredded my script last Friday.”

‘And touched me in places he shouldn’t have, and nearly kissed me, and made a fool of me in retrospect,’ you thought. But you wouldn’t tell Fred that was why you were nervous to see Charlie in person: because of whatever spell he’d put on you last time.

“It wasn’t good anyway,” Fred remarked honestly.

You furrowed your brows. You poured your heart and mind into that thing! “What do you mean?”

“You were writing lullabies. I almost fell asleep listening to them.”

“This is the least I can do to ensure some consistency,” you argued. “I won’t convince anyone at dinner if I act just as shocked as my parents.”

“Charlie isn’t going to be boxed in by whatever the rules are. He just does what feels right to him at the time, and his intuition is often correct.” Fred threw his arms up in defence after seeing your increasingly perturbed expression. “But don’t ask me, Bill knows him way better.”

“I’m sure, seeing they’re, what, two years apart?”

“They’ll tell each other everything, anything,” Fred added. “Actually, you should ask Bill if you need any blackmail material to keep Charlie in line.”

You were about to agree, but that thought was interrupted by an owl flying into the open window and pecking at you. You stared at the animal quizzically. Unless Charlie was continuing your pretty much finished conversation, then who was this for? You slit the ribbon and unfurled the parchment. Immediately, you noticed the penmanship was different. Neater. Crisper. Like it was written by someone who needed their numbers and figures written crystal clear, say, someone whose profession might be that of a bank official…

(Y/N), Charlie is wearing a black sweater and grey sweatpants. I heard you were curious as per your last letter. Sincerely, Bill Weasley

Noticing your mortified expression, Fred was quick to snatch the letter out of your hands. Immediately, his braying laughter filled the room.

“I told you they tell each other everything!” he boasted.

For the third time this week, you were sure you were parading about a sinking ship.

Tick, tick.

5:58 p.m. on Saturday evening, Lucius crossed one leg over the other, looking expectedly at the circular driveway that wrapped around a marble fountain outside the main entrance. He set his cane aside and adjusted his tie, a black piece in his suit of all black.

5:59 p.m., Narcissa tapped her fingers on her stocking-clad legs. She, too, took to a dress of all black. The only colour on her body was an emerald brooch.

6:00 p.m., a wave of nausea overtook you. You fiddled with a button on your white textured cardigan that you slipped over a black pleated dress.

6:01 p.m., Draco, dressed like his father, let out a scoff at your expense. Pitiful was the sound and wounded was your ego.

“So,” Lucius’s voice cut through the tense air. “Where is Charlie?”

You blanched, at a loss for an explanation. He’d promised you he was going to be here. You had written proof, but it would have no standing in your father’s court of law.

“Well?” he urged.

“Probably weaving his way through the forest,” you excused with as most conviction as you could muster. “It’s not easy to find such a remote location, especially a mansion on Estates Lane.”

Draco looked at his silver watch on his wrist and let out a sound of competent. “He’s already five minutes late. But I wasn’t expecting anything more from a Weasley, anyway.” Then, he suggested something you didn’t want to hear. “Father, how much longer should we wait before we call off this dinner? You and I have more important things to deal with anyway.”

“I’ll give it—”

Lucius was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. A few seconds later, Dobby came running.

“Who is it, Dobby?” Narcissa asked, standing up.

“It’s Ms. Cromwell and Mr. Weasley.”

“Ms. Cromwell?” Lucius repeated.

The four of you, Malfoys and all, shared the same confusion as you scurried to meet your guest—plural, you corrected, guests.

At the entrance of the door, Cecile Cromwell stood with Charlie. She was the heiress you mentioned in your letter. The grieving heiress you warned him not to bother. Her late husband, Chuck Cromwell, held a large fortune in his name before passing last month. Cecile looked polished as always, layers of diamonds and silver looped around her twill dress. Wrapped in her shawl, she looked like the face of elegance and especially juxtaposed to Charlie…

Charlie, who was not wearing what he said he was going to. In fact, he complemented Cecile perfectly.

He’d slicked his hair back and tied the longer strands up. His blouse boasted some frilly lace that looked like it belonged on Genevieve’s wedding dress rather than his broad chest. The blouse sleeves were long, and the same frilly material poked out at his wrists. He wore a red undercoat that clashed heavily with his purple overcoat which was embroidered with gold stitches. Perhaps the most terrible thing was that his pants cut off past his knees. But his legs weren’t bare, absolutely not. He chose some sort of silk stocking to run down his legs before they were swallowed by his buckled shoes.

“My apologies for the delay, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy,” Charlie said. “And to you, my lovely (Y/N).”

You were relieved that Lucius and Narcissa’s gazes were so zoned in on Charlie that they couldn’t even spare you a glance. Because your face was a clear tell that you weren’t expecting this at all. Whatever happened to his promise of a jean jacket and slacks?

“I’d expected him to dress like this, something reflective of his character,” Draco whispered from beside you. “A circus act.”

“Bugger off,” you warned, giving him a push away.

“It was a rather circuitous route through the dense forest and trees,” Charlie explained, dusting off a twig that was stuck in the loopy lace of his blouse. You wanted to scream. “Luckily, I had Ms. Cromwell to guide me to safety.”

“Cecile is more than fine, Charles,” Cecile assured, smoothing out his suit for him. “As we discussed on the way here.”

“And Charlie is fine, as we discussed,” he added.

“You didn’t have to walk all the way here, Ms. Cromwell,” Lucius said rather hastily. “It’s rather chilly. Let me have the house elf escort you back.”

“Nonsense,” she deflected, only giving Lucius a moment of her time before fixing a strand of Charlie’s hair that a branch must’ve unstuck. “Walking keeps me youthful in my old age. And meeting Charles, I mean Charlie here, was the sunshine to my gloomy day.”

“I couldn’t have assumed you were over fifty,” Charlie commented.

“Oh, you,” Cecile said with a loud giggle. You’d never seen the heiress act like a fifteen-year old. “You remind me of my late husband so very much. Same name, just as handsome, and you’re dressed like him when we met as teenagers. Any lady would be lucky to have you.”

Well, at least someone in the room thought he looked charming in those dated robes.

“Men these days don’t possess that same sense of charming style. It’s always the same shades of black and white.”

Lucius and Draco both silently peered down at their suit of all black before Lucius said: “I fear that a storm could break any moment now, you best get going,” he insisted, nudging Dobby to take the heiress’s hand.

“I’m happy to provide direction anytime, Charlie,” Cecile reminded as Dobby guided—very gently pulled—her to the door. She shot him a wink. “You know where I live.”

Charlie stepped forward. “Of course, Cecile. Have a pleasant evening.”

Then, the door shut leaving the five of you in silence.

“How nice it is to be able to meet your neighbours, Mr. Malfoy, despite the circumstances of my delayed arrival,” Charlie said. “It doesn’t impress well upon me. I hope I can be forgiven for the gaffe.”

It took Lucius longer than usual to register Charlie’s words. It was apparent he was embarrassed that Cecile Cromwell was cognizant that Charlie Weasley was invited to his mansion for dinner. And was dating his daughter.

“Of course,” Narcissa answered in lieu of her frozen husband. “Shall we proceed to the dining room?”

She took Lucius’s hand and gave him a less-than-gentle nudge towards the hall. Lucius walked like the troll that had somehow stormed its way into Hogwarts in your third year. Still unable to speak, he walked along with Narcissa. Draco scampered behind your parents. All you could do was stare at the chaos Charlie caused by merely arriving.

“Come on then,” Charlie spoke in a low tone next to you. He took you by the hand as well.

“Where did you get these robes?” you asked, referring to his costume.

“It was my great-aunt’s father’s, or something of that sort. Mum wasn’t clear. It really was stowed away in the attic, and I wore it against better advice.”

“Why?”

“I’m a classy man,” Charlie boasted. “What more can I say?”

Dobby rushed back just in time to pour the wine. You were seated next to Charlie, Draco in front of you, and your parents on each side of the table.

“How is work, Mr. Malfoy?” Charlie asked through a polite sip of red when it settled.

“It’s been keeping me busy,” Lucius responded almost robotically.

“September is never a quiet time for the Ministry, as both my brothers and father say.”

Lucius was half-focused on conversation. He’d recovered from the Cecile incident, but there was another enemy: he couldn’t keep his eyes off Charlie’s hand that was doting touches on your arm and waist. Truthfully, neither could you. Charlie’s fingers squeezed sporadically and you thanked the wine glass for absorbing your squeal.

“Of course not, which is why we look forward to the summer. Speaking of, where will you summer?” Lucius asked. You nearly rolled your eyes at the uppity way he worded the question. Arthur had once asked you the same, but in a direct way: ‘Where are you going this summer?’

“We spend a day or two at some of the beach resorts in Romania, or dip into Greece, but there is one spot I’ve been dying to visit,” Charlie said.

“Where is that?” Lucius pressed.

“Your brother Theodore’s new estate in Paris.”

Lucius mouth paused mid-retort. Narcissa’s red lip was stuck, pressed against the wine glass.

You, on the other hand, had to fight the thunderous laugh rising in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” Lucius said, shaking his head with a slight laugh of disbelief. “I didn’t catch that. Where is this?”

“(Y/N) was telling me about how tremendous your brother’s Parisian estate was,” Charlie clarified, his words full of air and cheer. “I can imagine how big it is compared to this mansion. And I hear he hosts a wickedly good game of golf, which I’d be happy to partake in.”

“It’s good enough for Paris,” Lucius said. “But—”

“See, you and I are similar in that regard,” Charlie interrupted, raising a finger. Lucius’s frown grew steeper at how Charlie was now lumping them in the same bracket. “Living in the shadows of our perfect older brothers and being constantly compared to them.”

Lucius scoffed. “My parents knew better than to do that.”

‘Yeah, right,’ you thought. Your grandfather, Abraxas, loved to pit his two sons together, like they were animals in a ring. And like an unbreakable tradition, Lucius imposed that on you and Draco, and you knew you weren’t as wonderful as the perfect little Malfoy next to you.

“I would be pleased to meet your brother one day,” Charlie said. “Maybe next summer. After all, (Y/N) has met most of my extended family and there’s nothing that ties a partnership like family.”

“We’ll see what our plans are for next summer,” Lucius said. “It’s a little premature to be thinking of that already.”

“Of course,” Charlie conceded. “My apologies for being so rash.”

“Will you be returning to Romania?” Lucius asked. “Is it possible for you to have time off during summer with your job, anyway,?”

“It’s hard to be thinking about the summer already,” Charlie repeated with a smile, taking Lucius’s line and stuffing it back in his own mouth.

“So, what will you and (Y/N) do to see each other?” Narcissa quickly piped in with a wife’s intuition that her husband was going to cause a scene about the manner of Charlie’s response.

“Well, I’ll try my very best to make it back to England when I can for the holidays,” Charlie promised. “But (Y/N) is also intent on visiting Romania for weeks on end if there are time constraints.”

Narcissa was startled. “And she’ll travel herself?”

“Yes, I will,” you confirmed. Charlie glanced at over you, his expression proud and thoroughly impressed at your improvisation. You gave a small smile back.

“All that travelling does take a toll on the body, especially that of a young woman,” Narcissa warned. You redirected your attention to your wine, evading her glance over.

‘Oh, mother, thank you for always being so cognizant of the state of my reproductive organs,’ you thought.

Narcissa dug further into Charlie. “Have you considered settling down in one place?”

“Not in the next couple of years,” Charlie said. He was so convincing that you could see your future reflected in the polished glass in front of you, full of Romanian castles and mountains. “Nothing like travelling when we’re young, right, (Y/N)?”

You nodded. “Absolutely. We should take all the time we need.”

“Have you thought about marriage? Children? Wouldn’t it better for a family to remain in one place, too?” Narcissa asked, oblivious to Lucius’s eye that had just twitched. The thought of you and Charlie producing off-spring might’ve been revolting for him to forget about dinner altogether.

Charlie looked solemn. “That might not be in the picture.”

You quickly looked over. This was far from what you would’ve wanted him to say, but Charlie squeezed your knee to silence you. You almost kicked up at the table.

“It’s a shared decision, is it not?” Narcissa asked.

“Yes, of course,” you added breathlessly. Best to just play along with Charlie. “And I think, I think… the same.”

“We’ll re-evaluate in ten years,” Charlie assured.

“Ten—!” Lucius finally spoke for his wife, before cutting himself off. “And you’ll be how old then, Charles?”

“Thirty-nine,” Charlie responded. Rubbing salt on the wound, he reminded your parents: “And (Y/N) will be thirty-three.”

Now it was Narcissa’s turn to look as white as a spirit. She had you when she was twenty-four, and Draco at twenty-six. Comparatively, thirty-three was geriatric.

You bit down to quell the laugh that was trying to escape your lips. Charlie knew how to make your parents tick and hit each box perfectly, like he was scoring points on the Quidditch field in his prime years. In your little ‘lullaby’, you and Charlie were having ten kids, but having none was clearly the better option. You did prefer your mother over your father and hated to make her upset, but the constant reminder on you and never Draco to be married, to bear children, to be a mother yourself, was a lot.

“Draco will obviously carry on the family name should my decision remain unchanged.” You nudged Draco with your foot. Your tone was devilish; it was time for Draco to bear the burden of everything. “Won’t you?”

Draco growled back. You both loved offloading familial duties onto each other.

“What is your reason, Charles, if you don’t mind me asking?” Narcissa asked.

“Seeing how much my parents had to sacrifice and give up for themselves,” Charlie responded, a tinge of sadness coating his voice.

Again, if Charlie Weasley needed a second career, acting wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.

“Well, when you make the decision to have more children than you can afford, that seems like an unavoidable issue,” Lucius said hotly.

“They struggled, but I wouldn’t trade any of my siblings for anything in the world.”

The air of the room was clouded with confusion. Lucius was set out to hate Charlie, but Charlie was acting the part of a perfect, coiffed gentleman (save for the remarks about Uncle Theo’s bigger estate and inviting himself over). Narcissa, though milder than Lucius, would’ve preferred a different man for you than Charlie Weasley, but she was upset you weren’t set out to have her grandchild(ren) anytime soon. Draco, always in the mood for a snarky comment, didn’t know whether to laugh or continue to live through the horror of a conversation your parents were actually invested in.

“Very well,” Lucius said, leaning back. “It’s a shame Kingsley’s new policies have made it harder for the working class to have children.”

You groaned internally. Even Draco, who was always on his father’s side, rolled his eyes at Lucius’s favourite topic: blaming every bad thing in the world on the current Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. It was easier for him to have sway over his predecessor, Cornelius Fudge. Well, before Fudge was forced to resign over some controversies in his office.

“Undoubtedly,” Charlie backed him up with a nod. Lucius looked at him with surprise; he hadn’t expected him to agree. But you didn’t think Charlie was going to, based on the crafty smirk on his face. “It’ll take decades to undo the damage Fudge put forth in his years in office, draining funding from things like childcare and parental leave and putting that money in the pockets of his friends instead.”

There it was.

Shadows appeared on Lucius’s countenance. “Fudge did no such thing.”

Draco slammed his face into his hands.

Lucius continued. “He’s only ever introduced good policies, like the potential reintroduction of dragon domestication.”

“Having spent a decade near them, I can say they’re absolutely not suitable for domestication,” Charlie pointed out.

“The earliest of Malfoys have been domesticators of dragons,” Lucius stated. “And they did very well, before the Ministers of Magic intervened.”

It was a touchy topic for your father indeed. Centuries ago, Malfoys did the unfathomable: they domesticated dragons and the only way to do that was to really hurt the beasts. And hunted them for sport. The same terrible creatures that had power to burn down cities, the same creatures that people staked their lives to tame. But ethics and politics shook down on the practice, and dragon domestication reflected once again in a bad light.

Or that was what you’d read. Lucius preferred to say that those in power were gleeful to finally shake down on Malfoys. Maybe it was just transgenerational shame. You knew Malfoys hated being told what to do.

“For good reason. The fatality rate of those trying to domesticate dragons was beyond any acceptable threshold, and vice versa.” Charlie’s voice was now lower, more serious than you’d ever heard him. His lovely bass notes reverberated in your ear and sent a chill down your spine.

“So, what exactly is the point of your job?” Lucius asked hotly. “Don’t you, on a technicality, domesticate them?”

“I study and work with them, Mr. Malfoy,” Charlie corrected. In a battle for authority, Charlie was winning. “You can call it taming, if you’d like, so they’re less destructive to the environment and wizardkind. I can make them pliable for transport as well.”

Your eyes darted back and forth between Lucius and Charlie.

Behind Charlie’s cool and collected demeanour, you had to wonder if he was affected by your father’s words. You knew he cared deeply about dragons, never even taking more than a week off them in the past decade. He wouldn’t ever fathom hurting them for personal gain.

“Let’s have some dinner, shall we?” Narcissa said quickly. No one wanted to see Lucius riled up over politics.

The rest of dinner proceeded without a hitch, in your eyes at least. In between courses, Charlie pulled you close and whispered in your ears. You were sure this was for show because you didn’t understand anything he was saying, or maybe it was because you were too busy gazing into his deep blue eyes and studying every freckle on his cheek.

When the clock struck nine, and the last drop of coffee was had, Charlie excused himself to leave.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy for such a delightful evening,” Charlie remarked at the door. “And for such an insightful discussion on dragon domestication, Mr. Malfoy.”

Charlie was tempting war.

“I would be happy to discuss this topic anytime, Charles,” Lucius responded icily.

Charlie hummed in agreement. “Of course.” Then, he turned to you.

In a flash, all you could see was a mouthy smirk that had definitely sunk ships in past lifetimes.

His right arm reached out to take you by the waist to spin you around. You expected him to only bid you goodnight but you were way off the mark. His lips remained silent. His left hand did all the talking by climbing to the back of your neck to position you how he wanted. He tilted your head back and inched closer and then—

His lips landed on yours.

You might’ve been flustered or pushed him away under normal circumstances, but this was no normal circumstance. Unsure of what to do, you lay immobile in his arms, like that rag doll you promised you weren’t going to be. Except you were, again. He was playing you like a marionette puppet and his hands were the strings. His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into the fabric of the dress until you could feel each one. His lips stuck on yours like honey, like a fruit lolly from Honeydukes on a hot summer day. His eyelashes brushed against your eyelids as he tilted your head down further to deepen the kiss.

Patches of muscled torso pressed against the front of your body. Warmth seeped from his hand to the back of your neck as his palm caressed your skin while his fingers tangled themselves in your hair.

He deepened the kiss once more before pulling away.

You stumbled upwards as he withdrew himself. Your fingers ghosted over your flushed lips in disbelief, but again, no one saw. In this moment, no one cared about you.

When the stars faded and vision came to be, the first thing you saw were the agape mouths of your parents. But they weren’t going to chastise Charlie over the improper way he said goodbye; there were no words to be had.

“Have yourself a wonderful evening,” Charlie said in a manner so unaffected that you didn’t understand. He had just given you the most electric kiss you’ve ever had, and in front of your parents and brother. “And many thanks again for having me.”

NEXT CHAPTER>>

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

#charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley fic #charlie weasley imagine

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raparopa · 1 year

Note

Hey there :) I hope you’re having a great day :) please could I request headcanons for hotd characters where they find their crush drunk after a banquet and when she sees them she runs up to them and says I’m in love with you 💙💙

a/n: I didn't die (thanks for the request 🫀)

warnings: alcohol, femslash

drunk confessions

daemon targaryen

He perfectly saw what condition you were in, but unfortunately, he missed the moment when you disappeared from the hall. At first, he simply tried to find you with his eyes from his place, but when he realized that you were not there, he simply put down his glass and went to look for you along the corridors. And he was lucky to find you on the very first couch, in a state where you were already catching little invisible dragons above your head. He just chuckled as he knelt down in front of you.

-Y/N…

-Daemon!- you yelled, immediately throwing yourself on his neck, and almost knocking him onto his back. -It's you! I love you so much! Do you know how much I love you? More life! (approximately this is what you said, if you translate from a drunken language)

- Of course you do, lassy. I would have expected something else. - Daemon just said, dragging your drunk, screaming love messages, body to the chambers.

criston cole

He did not leave your side throughout the entire banquet, but still, you managed to slip away unnoticed to the balcony, taking a jug of wine with you) and he caught himself too late. The knight found you on the floor, leaning back against the partition, hugging the jug.

- Milady, I think you're a little drunk. Let me help you. -He barely lifted you to your feet when your eyes cleared for a moment and you saw who was in front of you.

-Help me with the power of your love, oh incredible knight ... After all, my love for you is limitless!- you shouted, which made Criston, of course, pleased, and his ears even turned pink, but at the same time he wanted to fall through the ground.

-Shhhhh...Y/N, don't shout...

-But I want to scream about my feelings, my life, my soul,-you purred, grabbing his cheeks.

- It can be done not where half the kingdom has gathered, dear lady.

aemond targaryen

I certainly doubt very much that he would let you drink yourself unconscious, but oh well. Let's imagine that you really managed to outdrink his brother and were now looking for adventure on the... head. And you would have found them if you had not been grabbed by the hand and dragged in another direction, past the adventure.

- What are you doing, my lady? How much did you drink?-Aemond asked, almost worried, holding your shoulders to keep you on your feet. -Y/N, dear, please tell me something.

You blinked a couple of times, noticed the silver sheen of your hair.

-I can only say that I love you, my prince. This is the most important thing that can happen right now. -You grumbled as you fell into his arms. He froze. Did you only say that because you were drunk? Because he was a little angry because of your behavior? Why you… You snorted something, kissed him on the cheek, and began to sniff again, hanging on him like a squirrel collar. And his heart stopped. Okay, he'll deal with it tomorrow. Now it is important that you do not fall asleep in the garden.

aegon targaryen

Guys, I know you got drunk together. But do not underestimate his merits! His experience is much greater than yours. So, if he could still connect words into sentences, then we communicated in separate words with an interval of several minutes. He didn’t have to look for you anywhere, since you both sat down in some corner with a wine supply, emptying the bottles. And while he was complaining about his life to you, you were just tired. Your body has already ceased to obey you, there was not enough air from the corset, and all you wanted to do was sleep. But you did not find anything soft, except for Aegon's shoulder, so it was decided to lie down there. Your head fell helplessly on his shoulder, and for some reason you decided that it would be great to take his hand. -

I love you.-You muttered, drifting off to sleep.

-What? What did you say?-He sobered up.-Hey, Y/N, what did you just say?-Aegon was scared that he didn't hear you or misinterpreted your words. He shook his shoulder, hoping to get an answer out of you, but you did not respond, seeing the hundredth dream.

-Hey Y/N!- he leaned over to make sure you were probably playing him, but seeing that you were asleep made him almost cry at the absurdity of the situation.

And what should he do now?

alicent hightower

-Come, dear, it's time to rest. -she gently led you into the room, making sure that you did not run into the column. - I think we should give up this type of wine for a while. It's too strong for such holidays. - Alicente giggled, and you echoed her laughter, holding onto the wall. When you finally passed the corridor and ended up in your bed, the Queen kindly helped you get rid of all the things that prevented you from sleeping.

-I hope you'll be in good health tomorrow.- She ran her hand through your hair.

-Me t-too… Your Majesty,- you giggled again. What have I done to deserve your love?

- With your love, Y/N. Rest.

lucerys velaryon

Nothing. Both of you just got drunk, as if you were seeing alcohol for the first time, secretly from your mothers, and fell asleep two meters from the door on top of each other. 🐻

jacaerys velaryon

-JACAERYS!- You yelled as soon as he appeared from around the corner. He stopped in amazement, not understanding what was happening. You rushed to him, jumping into his arms, causing Jace to spin in place, with you in his arms.

-Y/N, where have you been? I was looking for you everywhere. - he said, returning you to the ground. Your eyes sparkled, you smiled slyly.

-Walked.

He blinked several times, peering into your face.

- Are you drunk?

-NOT AT ALL! ONLY IF FROM LOVE TO YOU! -You burst out laughing, grabbing his hands and happily showering his face with small kisses.

- Oh gods, Y/N ... - the prince was embarrassed, trying to hide a smile. - You drank... “

-Oh no!- you screamed theatrically, pouting your lips in resentment. -My prince is in doubt because of my love!- Is he really sure that I don’t love him at all!?

- I didn't say that. I just assumed. - Jacaerys was embarrassed, slightly squeezing your hand. - This does not mean that I do not love you. Quite the opposite. You smiled happily, again drowning him in kisses.

rhaenyra targaryen

She was standing on the balcony, breathing in the cool air, when you crept up behind and hugged her from behind, resting your chin on her shoulder. You slightly swayed from drunk alcohol.

-Y/N. - she grinned, stroking your hands a little. - What are you doing here? I thought you were having fun today in the company of wine. - she pricked. You muttered something unhappily, which made Rhaenyra laugh.

-I prefer the company of my beloved heiress. - you answered, feeling your tongue tangle.

-Really? Can I take this as a kind of recognition?

-Well, of course. I can say this tens of thousands of times until you are sure my princess. But, only when the company of good wine will let me go.

She laughed again, intertwining your fingers.

- I love you too, Y/N.

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affixjoy · 3 months

Text

I’ve been trying to bookmark the fics that I like more often so I can actually remember where to find things, but I like the idea of talking about them here more too. I’ve been blown away by the talent and creativity in this fandom and I want to shout it from the rooftops!

With that in mind, here are some Spirk fics that I’ve loved lately!

Time After Time by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin)

Summary:

Sam Kirk’s younger brother James is posted to the Enterprise on a six-month rotation. Spock, preoccupied with thoughts of his sister, regards this as an unique opportunity to study another pair of adult siblings in their natural habitat.

That is very much not what happens.

My thoughts: guys I feel absolutely insane about this one. It’s just so, so good. It was one of the first Spirk fics I read when I started getting into it a few months ago, and I just reread it last week because I wanted to know if it was as good as I remembered. It very much is!!!

Highlights: sibling feelings, horny mind melds, THE DINNER TABLE SCENE, dungeons and dragons.

Entering Orbit by museaway

SUMMARY:

Jim escapes to Iowa to avoid the media frenzy following the Narada incident, but a late-night miscommunication results in Spock turning up on his front porch.

My thoughts: this was great to read after watching Star Trek (2009) a few weeks ago. I don’t love the Abrams movies but there is some really spectacular fic out there for them that almost makes up for it.

Highlights: Bartender Jim and cooking for each other.

Not in Front of the Klingons by @android-and-ale

Summary: Our beloved Old Married Spirk have been sent off on yet another diplomatic mission. They’re an (in)famous presence in Federation politics, so really, everyone should know what to expect from them. If you bug their rooms you deserve what you see and hear.

Enjoy canon level “diplomacy,” the eternal mediocrity of conference centers, and lighthearted middle aged sex.

My thoughts: this is DELIGHTFUL and I adore it. Old married Spirk has become one of my favorite things to read lately and this nails it.

Highlights: the way they banter and laugh during sex. They’re so comfortable and happy together, it’s lovely.

The recitation of names by Moreta1848@jennelikejennay

Summary:

Two hundred crew members died in the attack on the USS Farragut by a sentient cloud creature. Now the ship has to limp home with traumatized survivors and a borrowed crew. Lieutenant James T. Kirk is doing the worst of anyone, but he won't admit why and doesn't want help.

One of the borrowed crew is Lieutenant Commander Spock. He feels a strange magnetism toward the troubled lieutenant, but the chain of command and his duty to the ship must always come first.

My thoughts: I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the idea of the recitation of names. It’s a beautiful way to grieve, and having Kirk and Spock do it together here is such a moving way for them to get to know each other.

Highlights: unplanned roommates, a lot of feelings about therapy/healing, just a lot of FEELINGS.

the yeomen of the garden (and laundry) by @cicaklah

Summary:

“So you and El-Tee Kirk?” Greig said as Spock came to collect his clothing again after yet another incident. “Is something going on there?”

Spock just blinks. “Which Kirk brother are you referring to?”

Greig shrugs. “I didn’t know there was more than one of them.”

Spock nods. “I am not in a relationship with Sam Kirk, if that is what you are asking.”

Greig gives him the finger-phasers. “Oh cool, cool, that's what I thought. Sweet. Tell your buddy to get better okay? His chest must be so raw after everything he’s been through to damage so many tops.”

My thoughts: this whole series has been a blast to read, but this is probably the one that has stuck in my head the most. There’s something about seeing what other people are up to on The Enterprise that hits me in the right way, and I love the laundry guy here.

Highlights: the garden, laundry workers having all the best gossip

K'diwa: A Steamy Novel of Interspecies Romance, by Jim Kirk by branwyn

Summary:

Jim wrote a romance novel just to prove he could. Then someone leaked it on the public Starfleet server, and suddenly his embarrassingly smutty and sentimental Human/Vulcan love story is all over campus. Luckily for Jim, no one knows that he’s the author. Unluckily for Jim, someone forwarded the novel to the staff of the Vulcan embassy. Now, every Vulcan in San Francisco is reassessing the logical merits of taking Human bondmates.

Spock reads a Human/Vulcan romance novel because he can hardly avoid it. Suddenly, he is consumed by the need to locate the author, ascertain their wellbeing, and instruct them in the way of Vulcan mating bonds. Luckily for Spock, it doesn't take long to identify the author as Jim Kirk. Unluckily for Spock, Jim is unconscious and surrounded by interested Vulcans who also read the book.

My thoughts: this was so fun to read! I love Jim writing a romance novel, I love how they set up all his friends at the Academy, and I love Spock falling in love with him through reading his work.

Highlights: all the Vulcan culture stuff was interesting, and I really love Gaila in this one.

#star trek #spirk #fanfic #star trek tos #ao3fic #james t kirk #spock #spirk fic #fic rec #what I’ve been reading #I’m relatively new to tumblr and don’t know the etiquette of tagging people in rec posts like this lmk if I need to change it up

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vsnyarbll · 1 year

Text

the wound on his hand

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

summary: Prince Aemond got hard as Y/N checked the wound on his hand.

warnings: NSFW (not smut, just sexual thoughts), targcest.

words: 1.260

a/n: Sorry for any mistakes. English is not my native language. MDNI

People in King’s Landing woke up to a warm day after several cold and overcast days. Queen Alicent wanted to take full advantage of the sunny day, so she organized a tea party in the garden.

The ladies divided themselves into their usual group of friends and settled down at the tables. The Queen was sitting with her daughter Princess Helaena. Since she became queen, she had lost her friends one by one.

Unlike the Queen, Princess Rhaenyra's table was quite crowded. Her return from Dragon Stone after a long absence had brought her into the limelight.

Princess Y/N, the daughter of Princess Rhaenyra, tried to ignore her mother's glare as she entered the garden. She was late again, but this time it wasn't out of absent-mindedness. She was particularly late to avoid the ladies and their endless questions.

While looking for a table to sit at, she immediately skipped the table where her mother was sitting. She wanted to sit next to her cousins Baela and Rhaena, but the ladies' daughters had already occupied their table. Jacaerys and Lucerys were seated at another table with their father, the king, and Daemon.

She was about to head for the exit when someone waved at him. She walked towards his uncle. The table he sat at was in the far corner of the garden. There was a single chair and a loveseat right across from it. Y/N stood at the end of the table and looked at Aegon. “What do you want, uncle?”

Aegon put what he thought was a sweet smile on his face. "The idea of you leaving while we suffer here disturbed me."

Y/N studied the faces of her childhood friends. They had both changed a lot. But Aemond seemed like a completely different person. “Don't you have any friends other than me?”

Aegon laughed nervously. “We have lots of friends. We just wanted to sit alone today.”

“Name one of your friends.”

“Well, Aemond has Criston.”

“I hope you’re not talking about Ser Criston Cole.”

He fixed his fainting gaze on her face and said, “I don't know why I'm trying to prove myself to you. I don't care if I have friends or not.”

She was happy to have her friend back.

“Have fun, uncles.” She turned around and heard Aegon say "fuck" under his breath.

“Would you like to join us?”

Y/N nodded her head and took the only empty seat at the table. Aemond was sitting in the single chair. Aegon was on the far side of the loveseat from Aemond. So, Y/N was sitting between them. Aegon had probably done something to piss Aemond off again. She thought to herself. That's why he was sitting far away.

By order of the queen, servants served tea to all the tables. There were also a variety of cakes on the table. Aegon and Y/N started chatting after their tea arrived. They were talking fast as if they wanted to close the time they had been away for years.

Aemond listened to their conversation, if watching Y/N's facial expressions counts as listening. He missed her more than he could admit or imagine.

After a short time for Aemond, Aegon showed Y/N a ring he had found in one of the rooms in the castle. Of course, the ring had dragon wings on it. And a red stone in the center.

“Whose ring do you think it could be?”

“It's definitely Aegon the Conqueror’s ring.”

“Only in your dreams.”

“Take a closer look, it says 'Aegon' on it.”

“It's a shame that your hands are so soft.” Y/N said as she held Aegon's hand to get a better look at the ring.

Aegon quickly withdrew his hand. “Why is that?”

“How many times in your life have you held a sword? You don't even ride your dragon?”

“We didn't all grow up savage like you. I grew up in a castle. As a prince.” He said with a fake offense.

Y/N smiled. Aegon was Aegon.

“And would you prefer my hands to be like Aemond's anyway?”

Aemond took his last sip of tea and put his cup down on the table. “It's better than being useless.”

“Aha!” Aegon seemed prouder to be offended.

“Show us your hand.” said Aegon.

Aemond held out his hand, sighing. Aegon just watched as Y/N held his brother’s hand from below. His hands were rough from years of sword practice.

“It would hurt if he grabbed your tit.”

“Aegon.” Aemond said in a warning tone.

Y/N blushed at the thought of him doing it. Aemond looked at the princess out of the corner of his eye.

The topic of conversation at the table was the same image that had occupied the prince's mind for several nights, or rather, several years. She is in his bed. Her long silver hair is messy on his pillows. Y/N tired of his teasing. She is too stubborn to say the words herself, but her eyes beg him to give her more. Her naked figure.

He didn't dare to think more in front of so many people. He wanted to shake his head to clear his thoughts. Instead, he locked eyes with his brother. He was looking at him with a knowing smile. Aegon was drunk but not stupid. He knew what was going on between them. Maybe love was not his specialty, but the desire was.

Then they both saw the princess squeeze her thighs when they looked at her. Apparently, Y/N’s mind was in the same place as Aemond’s. Aegon smirked at his niece's action.

When she realized Aemond was looking at her, she turned the back of his hand to change the subject to prince’s hand. There was a fresh wound.

“Aemond! What happened to your hand? Why didn't you get help?”

Y/N ran her fingers gently around the wound. He clenched his jaw at her action.

“It happened at the practice. It's nothing important.”

“It seemed important to me. You should see a maester.”

Y/N started stroking Aemond's wrist with her thumb without realizing it. Aemond felt himself melting into Y/N’s touch. But at the same time he was getting harder.

Y/N reached for the ribbon in her hair and untied it. She carefully wrapped it around Aemond’s hand. She covered the wound completely. Y/N had never bandaged before and didn't know if what's she had just done would help. But she couldn't stand by and do nothing because she knew Aemond would get no help.

"Thank you.” he said quietly. He liked that she was trying to help him, but he was also surprised. Aemond was not used to people paying attention to him.

"You're welcome, my prince."

Then the queen called Y/N to her side. She said, "Excuse me" and got up.

“Come back to us.” said Aegon.

“I will.” She said with a smile.

When Y/N walked away, Aemond carefully adjusted his pants.

Aegon burst into laughter. “You're pathetic. She just touched your hand and you got hard.”

"I wondered what would happen if she touched any other part of your body," he said as he reached for the bottle of wine on the table.

Aemond felt embarrassed for the first time in a long time. He felt like he was becoming like his brother. Getting hard in public was not something that could happen to Prince Aemond. But then he reminded himself that he was in love with Y/N. So, what happened to him was not because of lust but because of his love for the princess. Wait. He… he was in love with Y/N?

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x y/n #aemond one eye

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arabellasleopardcoat · 6 months

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Speak now (Alicent Hightower x Reader)

Summary: Alicent is not too sure of how she feels about you. Or about the fact you just proposed to run away. But she is sure about how she feels about the wedding.

Warnings: Canon typical angst. Mature language. Violence. Screaming at Viserys.

Requested: Yes! Enemies to lovers + Alicent. Not answered in the original ask because it contained two requests.

Alicent stayed kneeling before the statue of The Mother. She paid no mind as Rhaenyra and you exited the Sept. The two of you were little more than a pair of heathens, in her eyes. Neither took seriously the worship of the Seven, believing in your foreign gods.

Not her, though. She knew her duties.

“Forgive me Mother, for I have sinned by pride in my abundant evil iniquitous and heinous thoughts.”

And Alicent had. One would say, being the daughter of the Lord Hand himself and a close companion to the Princess, she was the most envied maiden in all the Kingdoms. Men praised her beauty, she was often called the prettiest girl at court.

But as of late, Alicent had started to experience what most girls her age experienced when looking at her. And it was all because of you.

A daughter of Corlys Velaryon, your arrival at court had come at the prompting of the King himself. He was looking to remarry, and who was better suited to the task than the eldest daughter of one of the last houses of Old Valyria?

Everyone praised your grace and intelligence. You were nowhere nearly as beautiful as Alicent was, or so her father said. But you had the striking coloring of the Velaryons, and knew more languages than she could count. Light as a feather on your feet, dexterous as a hawk on your dragon, there was no way Alicent could compete.

Rhaenyra had eyed you with distrust, then. She hated the idea of you sweeping in and taking her mother's place. Alicent, though, had been secretly relieved. Her father's plot had been trumped.

The King had asked to take a walk in the gardens with you, one morning. You had gone, nearly shoved towards it by your father. Whatever it happened during that walk, you had both come back changed. The King, deathly pale, and you, triumphant with a grin like the sharpest steel.

Your father had been angry, but had not dared to pull you from court. No, because whatever you had done to deter Viserys had cemented you as Rhaenyra's most trusted companion.

Alicent had started to envy you, then. What was it about you that made you so fearless? Why could you say no to a man like Viserys? Her father said you had ruined your chance, but to Alicent, you had not. Instead, you had done the brave thing and fought for your freedom. And not only that. You had won.

She wished she could be a little more like you. Women never won, in her experience. Not Rhaenyra, not her. Not even her mother, not even the late Queen Aemma. What made you so special? Whatever it was, she wanted it.

Rhaenyra just loved you. She praised you constantly, and asked you to go everywhere with her. Even, where Alicent couldn't follow. You had a dragon. An awful, ill-mannered beast that had the foulest temper. Just like her owner. Rhaenyra and you spent the mornings flying and playing chase, while Alicent remained forgotten on the ground.

Every time you entered a room, Alicent's blood boiled. She felt as if she was on fire from how much the thoughts consumed her. She hated you. She hated you. She hated you because she wanted so badly to be you.

With no one to divert King's Viserys' attention, Alicent found herself cornered. Her father said it was a good thing, that the King realized he didn't need a spirited wife. You were a wild, willful maiden, with teeth as sharp as the ones on your dragon. Were you made Queen, you would have bled Westeros dry. Alicent was much better suited to the task, meek and subservient as women should be.

But if she was all those things, as her father said, why did she feel such rage? By the Seven, when you were near, Alicent wanted to scratch your face to shreds.

Envy. It was envy and it was a sin. She often tried to remind herself of that, when she saw you parading around the Red Keep, surrounded by Rhaenyra and a round of age appropriate suitors.

It didn't work to calm her heart.

“Are you still in here?” Your voice brings her out of her contemplation. You stand at the entrance of the Sept, a quirky little smile on your face. "It's been quite a while.”

Alicent looks at the candle she had lit, when the three of you had come to the Sept earlier this morning. It's burned almost completely, only the smallest piece of wick and wax remaining. She has stayed here for hours and barely noticed. That strong of a hold you had over her thoughts.

“Evidently.” Alicent answers, tone harsh. Your face drops slightly.

“I didn't mean to disturb you. Rhaenyra is looking for you, that's all.” You are not even that pretty. Alicent is much more comely. Your features always glimmer with a hint of intellegence that's just not proper for a lady of your station.

“I'll go when I am ready.”

You leave her alone with her thoughts and the sparks of the fire. If you were a better person, perhaps you would have stayed. But you are not, so you run off as always, chasing whatever inane pleasures you are always up to.

Not even a week passes before that awful announcement. No one tells her. She finds the same as anyone else. Rhaenyra's look of betrayal is etched into her memory.

She isn't quite sure of what to feel. Alicent knows this is a great thing, she will turn into the most powerful woman in the realm. Nothing could bring her house more honor, there is no greater achievement of her duty.

At the same time, she is terrified. King Viserys is not the kind of man she ever dreamed of marrying. Alicent had hoped for a groom closer to her age. The fact that he is Rhaenyra's father makes her skin crawl with disgust.

When she had thought of marriage, she had always envisioned it as being like what her parents had. Alicent remembers the times when her mother was alive, how her father had tended to her, how much he had mourned her. That was true love, she had thought. True love a thousand times. A love so powerful her father never remarried, never even looked at another woman.

But while Viserys was old enough to be her father, he was not half the man Otto Hightower was. Instead of remaining in proper mourning, he had started making arrangements immediately to marry another.

Even your sister, tiny Laena Velaryon, had been considered. Alicent had found out because of the hell you had raised, when she was sent on her own walk with the King. You had screamed at your father until you went hoarse, and received a hearty slap as a reward. Not even that had stopped you from looming menacingly at the entrance of the Red Keep, watching them with hawk's eyes. Viserys had decided he would not marry her either.

What was it about you? Gods, Alicent knew she should be the happiest maid in Westeros. Her father's plots to secure a future for her had been well rewarded, she was about to do her duty in the most spectacular manner. No longer would her father have to fear for her like yours did. The most important man, the one blessed by the Gods themselves to rule Westeros, had chosen her. Yet, Alicent still envied you.

It made no sense. You could not be in a worse position. You were spinning out of control, or so everyone said. First, it had been the rejection of the King's advances, then the screaming match with your father. There was a certain strength in your rebelliousness, though. You braved the rumors with your head held high, strolling through the halls of the Red Keep as if you owned the place.

Rhaenyra was never far from you now, either. That, too, she envied. Before your appearance, they had been thick as thieves. Suddenly, she was all about you, and none about Alicent. This marriage proposal had been perceived as the ultimate betrayal, and she didn't seem to believe Alicent when she had tried telling her she had not known.

You tried to go on with your normal routine regardless. Every time you got the chance, you tried reuniting Rhaenyra and Alicent in one room. You must get a lot of enjoyment out of seeing Rhaenyra yell at her because once more, you had organized for the three of you to have tea. It was not going well. Or it was going very well for you. Alicent could not tell.

“You could have refused him.” Rhaenyra slammed her hand against the table. Unperturbed, you stared between the two of them.

Alicent felt the urge to scream and scream and never stop. This was terribly unreasonable. But instead, what came out of her mouth was…

“He is the King!”

“He is my father!” And with that last shriek, Rhaenyra was out of the parlor.

“He never asked.” Alicent growled, slamming her own hand on the table. She couldn't afford to scream, less the guards hear. But she surely felt like it.

You sprawled back on your seat, an amused expression taking over your face. Alicent wanted to slap the smug look off your face.

“He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.”

“He asked you?” Alicent's head turns. Of course he would. You were so important, after all. So freaking perfect. So learned and special. Oh, how she wanted to grab you by all that pretty hair and tug.

“I said no. And I said I would rather die than marry him, for he was as old as my father and a bad man, who would sacrifice his wife as if she were a breeding bitch…” It is as if once the words start tumbling out of your mouth, you can't stop them, blurting them without a care. There is a strange look in your eyes. “And then I said I would feed his limp dick to my dragon if he ever tried to force me, and raze his fucking Kingdom to the ground.”

Fear. You are scared, Alicent marvels. Scared of Viserys. Just as she is. Your words are feverish, you seem to be drowning in them. Like you need to scream, and scream and never stop.

“And his guards didn't say anything?” She says, still in disbelief at your words.

“Oh, I said it all in High Valyrian.” It's not even funny, but it cracks both of you up. Alicent realizes, startled, that perhaps you are not so bad after all.

A few days pass before you come to her again. This time, you are wearing riding attire, sweat making your hair flatten against your skull. You are so much like Rhaenyra in that instant that Alicent's heart stutters.

“I have been thinking about your problem.” You say, perching next to her in what surely you believe to be extreme daintiness. You are also the sort to think her dragon a baby, so it's not like it's unprecedented.

“Excuse me?” Alicent frowns. She wasn't aware she had a problem, much less that you were intent on fixing it. She had thought her hatred reciprocated. But was it? Suddenly, all of your interactions are in a new light. All of your snide little comments, all of your interruptions. You had never been trying to argue, you had been trying to befriend her.

“Run away with me.” You whisper, grabbing her hands. “Don't marry him.”

Alicent stumbles back. What you are suggesting could be considered treason. Perhaps you did hate her after all.

“Why should I trust you? You might be plotting my ruin.”

“I might. Or I might be saving you from the worst mistake of your life.”

She only thinks back to your proposal on the day of her wedding. Alicent spends the days leading up to it in a state of such nerves she can barely think of anything beyond how doomed she is. Your words don't register as an actual possibility.

Alicent's father says she is the most gorgeous bride he has ever seen. He says she looks just like her mother did on her wedding day, that he is making him proud. And she clings to that. But it's not until she is entering the Sept and sees you on the front row, clapping, that she breaks.

You stand in a blue gown, clapping almost aggressively. Her eyes search for yours, as she is about to say her vows.

You stare back. You arch an eyebrow.

“I am…. I can't do this.” Alicent drops her cloak, gathers her skirts, and runs. She passes you and grabs you by the arm, forcing you to run too. You catch up quickly.

The guests stare. King Viserys opens and closes his mouth.

“What..?”

“Alicent!” Her father screams. “Come back here, you foolish child!”

“Good for you!” She can almost make out Rhaenyra's voice, from the crowd. It only pushes her to run faster, harder.

“Hurry, before they recover!” You scream, pulling her even more.

The two of you share your first kiss hours later, with no one but the endless ocean and your dragon as witnesses.

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mcflymemes · 9 months

Text

PROMPTS FROM BARBIE AS RAPUNZEL * assorted dialogue from the 2002 film, adjust as necessary

what am i supposed to paint?

what if i don't have any good ideas?

you can create anything you imagine.

what if i hate it?

the woods were whispered to be full of monsters and dragons.

do you hear that? it's my stomach grumbling. i feel weak.

we wouldn't want anyone fainting around here.

one day, i'm going to walk along a beach just like this one and see nothing but open sky for miles and miles.

i'll put your art stuff away.

how was your ride today?

i'll expect my tea in nine minutes.

don't repeat your errors of yesterday.

what about your duties?

did you make the beds? sweep the floors? weed the garden?

it's your job to know.

i wonder where it goes.

something great could be down here.

you don't think there are spiders down there? 'cause i'm not too fond of spiders... or beetles... or snakes. i don't like them either.

oh sure. let's go down anyway.

nobody's been down here in years.

constant as the stars above, always know that you are loved.

why would she lie to me about that?

hurry, get cleaning!

i'm sorry, i was distracted.

will there be anything else?

how are we gonna fix this?

this is my chance. maybe... my only chance.

next time, i'll sit on you.

don't tell me you've been playing here all day.

does he ever smile?

just hold on, i'll get you!

just let go with one hand and reach up!

have we met before?

the only way to end the feud is through force.

i'd better make sure they're okay. i'll be right back.

how did it get so late?

tell me again about the village... and don't leave out a single detail.

the best part was... i met somebody.

and you've seen... how many men before?

this could ruin everything.

did we have a nice little trip today?

after all i've done, after all i've given you, this is how you repay me!

i heard you met someone special.

when i ask a question, i expect an answer.

you can't keep me locked away from the world forever.

when do you think this feud will end?

you're even more beautiful than i remember.

i'm going to be free.

just sounds like something following us.

it was only because of our extraordinary cunning and bravery that we escaped it all.

i hope you're wrong.

they may destroy each other sooner than i thought.

it's better than being a prisoner.

i hoped you might come back here. i realized i don't even know your name.

you're full of surprises.

there's your answer.

i'm not giving up.

you must be pretty important if you are invited to the prince's ball.

watch it with that thing! somebody could get seriously hurt!

any specific plan, or just general pain and anguish?

don't hurt him! it's me you want!

i'd rather read a good book.

she doesn't even know i'm the prince.

i'm waiting for someone.

i'm the one who's going to teach you not to meddle with my plans!

you're gonna let a little thing like that stop you!

i understand it is i who must thank you.

what makes might? it is more than power. it is also courage and loyalty.

you have never swerved in your devotion to your friend, no matter the danger.

it's so beautiful up here!

so again, we meet at a ball.

i came to clean up some loose ends.

you loved me! i know you did!

you could have had so much! you should've loved me!

you don't know what love is!

i forgive you for all those years.

no more hatred, please.

i thought you were gone forever.

all those years i thought i was alone.

i wronged you all these years.

i hope someday you can find it it in your heart to forgive me.

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kuririhimitsukichi · 1 month

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Keroro Movie 4 deleted scene: Shion's Secret, Tamama's Disappearance

This is the scene I've mentioned that had finished animation, there's one version of the movie tie-in credits posted to youtube and you can see one clip there, but they didn't use the exact same mix of clips each week, so there are a couple more shots from the missing scene that were shown.

Removing it must have been a fairly last minute decision, and unfortunately it wasn't included in the bonus features for the DVD, not even the special release. My guess is it was either cut for time, or that it was decided it gave away too much of the story too early, but I wish we could have seen the whole scene in some way, it feels like it would have been really spectacular to see.

This part takes place right after the guest house scene, in the final movie after Tamama runs out of the room it cuts to Momoka waking up, and this scene would have happened between those two points.

Once again, the translation from the novel is under the cut:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the quiet night on the outskirts of Paris, a faint singing voice could be heard. It was such a quiet sound that if you weren't warned of it, you might not notice it, even so, if you listened closely, you could just understand the song.

The singing voice quietly, quietly echoed through the garden where afternoon tea time had been spent, the outer wall of Shion's castle......as well as the guest room on the interior of that, where Momoka & Tamama were sleeping. Nonetheless the two were firmly in the world of dreams. You'd expect they wouldn't notice the singing voice at all.

However.

The sleeping Tamama's eyes suddenly snapped open. The colour of his eyes was different from usual. They were lit up like jewels showered in moonlight. Suddenly waking up, Tamama agilely jumped out of bed. He moved carefully like a child trying to avoid being thought of as bad for waking up in the middle of the night. And so, like that he exited and left the room with soft footfalls.

And closed the door with a click.

Still in her bed, Momoka muttered "Ngh" in response before immediately returning to the world of dreams again. As for the other, now empty bed...... Just where could Tamama be going to?

Tamama ran with tapping steps through the lush, densely growing forest on the other side of Shion's castle. With a blank expression as if he were sleeping with his eyes open, he all around looked like he was being controlled by somebody......

Tamama easily pressed through the pitch-black night forest without stumbling. As he progressed, the singing voice gradually became louder. In a short time, the forest ended and a pond illuminated by the moonlight appeared. The footsteps of Tamama, who had been running through the forest, became slower.

In the center of the pond there was a small island. A small figure seemed to be absentmindedly floating there. The person was likely the one singing the song. Judging by the voice, the one singing was a young girl. But why might a girl be singing in the forest this late at night?

Tamama, who had stopped running at the edge of the pond suddenly came to himself. His eyes returned to their normal colour.

"Huh? Wha-what-what? Where is this place?" Despite having run there on his own, it seemed he had no recollection of it.

The figure on the island suddenly stopped singing and turned to look.

"Bonsoir, Tamama-chan" It was Shion, having put on a black cloak.

Despite sporting the same personable smile she had worn that afternoon, illuminated by the moonlight, the girl had a somewhat spooky feeling.

"Shiocchi! What are you doing so late at night?" You could hear a hint of fear in his voice. Instead of answering, Shion raised a hand and gestured to the sky.

"Look. Please look at the dragon arch. Hasn't it grown considerably? It was such a lot of trouble to make it appear throughout the world" Shion spoke in an unbothered tone while gesturing to where the black night sky was cut by the even more black dragon arch.

"Appear throughout the world? Just what are you talking about? The dragon arch..." Finally clearly awake, Tamama looked at Shion with suspicion.

But as expected, Shion did not answer the question, and simply continued what she was saying. "Soon my new family will be be born. My heart friend, the Earth Dragon" Shion's rapt gaze softened.

"Earth....Dragon? Is that a story you made up, Shiocchi? Momocchi told me. That you're good at making up stories"

"Tamama-chan, you will become a warrior who will protect the Earth" Shion did not appear to hear Tamama's words at all, but leaned forward slightly as she spoke.

"'Warrior.....?' Does that mean I'm going to be a character appearing in Shiocchi's story too? Or maybe something like shouting 'Worya!' and fighting?"

While Tamama was thinking, Shion had turned back and began to sing. A song that was like a mysterious spell.... In front of Shion there was a small altar, and on that a large tome was open. While singing, she spread her arms and hands wide above them, from the space between her palms, a ball of pale blue light formed.

"What were you doing just now? Shiocchi? Singing a song.....sng....."

As the singing voice grew louder, Tamama seemed to become enveloped by it, and his eyes took on a strange light. The same colour as when he'd sprang out of bed earlier.

"Uu.....my-.....my head....."

When did the singing voice become more than just Shion's?

"Wh-When did....."

Around Tamama & Shion, and the edge of the pond, black figures had lined up. The accumulating deep voices belonged to those men. When did it happen? That about 10 men were surrounding the pond.

Shion's song and the men's singing voices- their choir flared up so that if you heard them, you couldn't hear anything else.

"W-What, what is it? This song is......?" Pressing on his head to try and hold onto his fading consciousness, Tamama looked all around at his surroundings. These men he couldn't feel any sort of hint from, when had they appeared?

"Shiocchi?"

Shion and the men's singing voices had steadily grown louder and were echoing in Tamama's head.

"U, ua....., my body is.....is......."

The light between the palms of Shion's hands had been gathering strength along with the singing voices. As if it were signaling to that light, this time a light shone out of Tamama's body.

"My body is~~~~~!" The light enveloped Tamama and continued to grow larger. From deep in the forest, the glowing mass and body slowly rose. A piercing roar echoed throughout the night in the outskirts of Paris.

".......ngh, what is, this sound......" Having awakened, Momoka realised at that time that the neighbouring bed was empty.

#keroro #keroroposting #keroro gunso #sergeant keroro #sgt keroro #sgt frog #tamama #shion #keroro movies #keroro movie 4 #dragon warriors #translations #novelisations #deleted scenes #the “sng” I feel needs a slight explanation #In Japanese the main part of song and sing use the same kanji #Here it was just the kanji with nothing to clarify if it was the verb or noun #so I removed the vowel that differentiates the two in English

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aemondsbeloved · 1 year

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The Cost of Duty [Part 3]

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader, Aegon II Targaryen x reader

summary: as Aegon and Helaena’s wedding approaches the duty to Aemond grows more difficult when you realize you are not the only one who loves another (3.8k)

warnings: helaemond featured (I know there are some who do not like this pairing, so consider this your warning that it plays a part here!), angst but a happy ending I promise, Viserys being a terrible parent tbh, this is set in an AU where Aegon is named heir by Viserys fyi.

[part 1] [part 2]

You had come to realize that Aemond was a great deal better than you in the time you had spent with him as you tried to push Aegon out of your mind.

You could see it in the way he carried himself, chin up and back straight, and the way he attended to his mother, his sister and yourself. He was studious, though you had always known this in your years at the Red Keep, and had a level of dedication that went beyond the average young man. His devotion to duty was equal to yours.

As you had tea with Princess Helaena and the Queen you smiled and chatted with an absent minded expression that you did well to hide as something else. It wasn’t the topic of weddings and how Helaena would marry Aegon this season and you would marry Aemond the next season that made your mind wonder elsewhere. It was the same thought that had bothered your mind for these past weeks that made your mind go somewhere very far away.

Your betrothed’s devotion. His mother, his sister, you.

A son’s devotion was like no other and when it was Aemond who had witnessed the lack of care his father gave to his mother their was no shock their. And something devotion to the woman he was to marry was needed. Besides, you had both known each other since you were children and he didn’t have a dragon and had both his eyes.

There was nothing like his devotion to Helaena as you had seen over time. It had been there when you were children and Aegon would tease her. Aemond was a statue, always by her side and had grown into a would be protector.

You told yourself it was his actions as a caring brother but lately it had been harder to label them as such. It was the hand he offered her to get up from the ground the day you both found her in the gardens with some bugs, or rather friends as she called them, she had found. Aemond had always been kind to the women in his life and while you were no exception to this there was something different there.

It passed your ears that he had nearly throttled Aegon last week when he had passed Helaena in the corridor drunk and apparently said some half-hearted insults. After the past weeks Aegon’s behavior in that was hardly a surprise. Aemond’s lack of calm and level headed behavior was a great surprise.

He had shook his head and chanfged the subject when you asked him of it the next day.

“What do you think of that, my dear?” Alicent asked, pulling you out of your thoughts

You found two sets of eyes on you and it was all you could do but smile sheepishly. “I am sorry but my mind is tired this morning it seems.”

Alicent smiled gently, a hand reaching across to reassure you. Helaena’s smile was kind and lovely as ever.

“It is no trouble, good sister. Mother thinks that yellow and red roses in the floral arrangements for your wedding would be nice. Yellow for your house and red for Aemond’s.”

“That is quite a lovely idea, your Grace,” you smiled. “I can only imagine how lovely the floral arrangements will be for your wedding, Helaena.”

Why you were so eager to further wound yourself over the reminder you were not marrying the prince you loved you did not know.

The silence of Helaena’s part was difficult not to notice and you saw worry flit over the Queen’s expression. You could not help the frown when the lovely smile Helaena had when speaking of you marrying fell at the reminder of her nuptials.

“Yes,” she said after a moment, voice as light and airy as ever but much more melancholic. Suddenly she was very interested in the light blue fabric of her dress. “Most lovely indeed.”

Deceit came with duty when upholding honor did not bring pleasure and you and Aemond were masters at it after practicing all your lives. It was there in the drawing room where you had been discussing wedding plans that you realized two things— Helaena was not deceitful and could never be as kind hearted as she was, and that she did not wish to marry Aegon.

Alicent’s eyes moved to you and you saw, if only for a moment, a hope that you did not catch on to something she was privy to. With your best neutral expression you did what you could to not display the new knowledge you possessed. The Queen was none the wiser as she looked to her daughter, talking to her about something of little real importance and only to pull her mind from the reminder of her wedding.

You did not hear what was said, too busy reeling at the realization.

Helaena did not love the brother she was to marry. She loved the one you would marry. Aemond loved the woman marrying his brother. You loved the very same brother.

You had no doubt a devout woman would say that the Gods were cruel. You knew that your luck was just poor and that duty had a hefty cost these days.

Doing something about this situation was stupid, you knew that. For your faults stupity was not one of them and yet you yearned to do something about this grave mistake in matchmaking.

Staying still and not acting was easier said than done it seemed.

“What is on your mind?” Aemond asked, across from you in the secluded library where he read.

Your hands held the book as you looked from the window to him. “Nothing of importance,” you dismissed.

He clicked his tongue, the smallest hint of irritation on his face. “You said you would not do that anymore.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said with a sigh, marking your place in your book as you sat it on your lap.

“Do not lie to me when you promised we would always be truthful to one another.”

Ah yes, that promise. The one you had made in the gardens just weeks ago. His proposition was a simple one, remain truthful and maintain your friendship. Within good time, after you started a family as would be your duty love would come.

You did not tell him that day that love probably could never come, at least no romantic love. He was so keen to forget the lack of romantic love and strict duty his mother and father shared that he ignored how it might affect him too.

Now that you knew you were not the only person with a candle for another’s heart, it was harder to buy into the lies you told yourself so duty would seem not as bleak.

“I know, Aemond,” you said without thinking, looking at him pointedly and imploring him to see what you knew already.

He blinked slowly, grasping your vague statement. “Know what?”

“I know about Helaena,” you elaborated.

“And what do you know about my sister?” He deadpanned, his book still in his lap.

“Of her affections,” you told him, tilting your head as if it was obvious.

“Her affections,” he repeated your words as he made it obvious they sounded ridiculous. “Do tell me, Y/N. Has my sister fallen for my dear brother and she could not help but tell you of it?”

Your eyes narrowed. Was he messing with you? It did not seem likely. It did not align with how Aemond had treated you for him to make fun of you either. “She did not say it to me—”

“So you mean to say you are assuming what my sister’s heart desires.”

The thinned lips pressed tightly together, clenched jaw, rigid composure made you pause. You wanted to ask him why he was so frustrated now because you truly did think you knew the answer. You did not get the chance.

“Do not speak of Helaena like that again,” he said lowly like you had insulted his sister when you had only mentioned a plain truth. “It is unbecoming of a lady such as yourself to gossip.”

You scoffed, not hiding your annoyance. “I never said she has affections for Aegon.”

You hoped he might catch on. His change of expression, frustration still there but a trace of longing gave you hope you might be honest with one another.

“My dear sister only desires to do her duty as any daughter would. Just as we will do ours and even Aegon will do the same.”

He looked distinctly annoyed but you knew it was not at you, certainly not at Helaena, and even not at Aegon. It was at himself this time. He went back to his book as he deemed the conversation over but you could not help but think of a scenario where Helaena might have confessed she did not wish to marry Aegon and instead wanted to marry the one she loved, Aemond. He would have told her she would marry Aegon because duty was more important. He might have left her in tears, he might not have, but he would have left all the same.

How could you judge him harshly when you were the same as Aemond, putting duty above anything and everything?

You could recall spending time with Helaena in the Godswood as you both sat in the grass when she had asked you a simple question— if you wished to marry Aemond.

“Of course,” you had said immediately, thinking only of duty and not wanting her to know it was her betorthed you loved. “Prince Aemond will make a fine lord husband.”

The sad smile on her face was hard to miss that day but she rallied, already pretending to be happy like she knew she had a life ahead of doing just that, pretending to be happy.

Recalling her words were not as pleasant as they had sounded in the moment they were said. Not now that you knew who she loved. “That is good. Aemond deserves to be cherished.”

You knew now what you knew then, you could not cherish Aemond Targaryen. It made sense why they betrothed you both. He was a second son but a Targaryen prince and the unspoken belief was despite the animosity between elder and younger brother, Aemond would be Aegon’s hand once his brother was king. The second son who would be the second most powerful man in the Realm one day.

You, the daughter of a lord in his father’s court, childhood companion to the future king and close with all of Queen Alicent’s children. What's more you were both well read, more alike than not, and a powerful match could be a love match too one day.

The match made logical sense, but love never made logical sense. You and Aemond were too similar in some ways. It made for a good common friendship but not as good a love match.

In the coming weeks and months you told yourself you would do nothing, say nothing. As you ate breakfast by yourself in your rooms in the Red Keep you told yourself the marriages as planned would be for the best. As you walked in the gardens or read with Aemond in the library you told yourself this was the right thing. When you did not ever see Aegon except for dinners together with the royal family you swore it did not bother you that he would not look in your direction.

This was fine. This was for the best. This was your duty.

If it was for only your happiness you might have not said anything. Whatever you intended or not, you still found yourself asking to see the King and Queen for an audience on the very evening before Aegon and Helaena’s marriage.

“My King, your Grace,” you curtseyed deeply, back straight as you entered the drawing room you had often sat with the Queen and Princess in talking of wedding arrangements.

“Lady Y/N,” the King greeted from where he sat in the chair, Queen Alicent standing by his side, a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Alicent asked, a worried expression on her face.

So often you had worn a mask pretending to be content that everyone had bought it. Only Aegon had ever seen through you but for the first time in months you allowed someone to see you in the misery you were settled in.

“I hope you may forgive me for bothering you both so late in the day,” you began, trying to be a statue and not fidgeting yet you thought you might be failing spectacularly. “But I could not avoid this any longer.”

“Avoid what?” Viserys asked, looking to his wife for insight but she only looked perplexed as he. Then he frowned looking like he remembered something as he looked back at you. “Has Aegon done something?”

The severity of his tone was not unnoticed nor was it uncommon. Despite being his named heir, the King was always voicing his disappointment in his eldest son and expected the worst of him. “What has he done?”

You shook your head in denial, “He hasn’t—”

He turned to Alicent again. “First he has been drinking himself to an early grave for years, unbefitting of a future King I said to him. Whoring himself around the street of silk I heard a Kingsguard say too,” he leveled a look at Alicent almost like it was her fault. “Now he has either sullied the lady betrothed to his brother or has offended her so severely that—”

“He has not done those things,” you protested despite knowing the drinking these days was true. “Aegon and I have not spoken in months truth be told.”

The ire in the King’s eyes dimmed. “Why are you so upset then, my dear?” Alicent asked.

“I—” you words died in your throat. “I cannot—” you sighed, hating yourself for sounding like a fool as you stuttered. “I need you to know, not as the King and Queen, but as the parents of the children that are due to wed that—”

“That what?” He asked.

“That a mistake may have been made.”

It was bold, you knew that and yet you could not stop the words as they left you.

The Queen seemed to understand at once. “I know how much you care for Helaena but even Aegon will not be cruel to her.”

A sigh escaped your lips and it was not one of contentment.

“There is more you have to say,” the King observed. “Say it, Lady Y/N.”

“I will my duty and marry Prince Aemond,” you began and Alicent looked affronted.

“No one would ever doubt that, my lady,” she said. “Rest assured.”

“I know,” you said sadly. “But I find myself unable to rest the day before Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena are to be wed.”

Queen Alicent looked shocked, maybe above all at your honesty and boldness in the moment.

“I do not believe I could forgive myself if I did not try to fix this.”

“Fix what?” The King asked.

“Aegon should not marry Helaena. She should marry Aemond and I should marry Aegon.”

“These arrangements have been months in the making, my lady,” Alicent said shakily. “Many of which you had helped planning. You have not spoken of this these many months, why now?”

“If it were only my happiness I would not have said anything, your Grace, I swear,” you told her urgently. “But I have been slow in learning that Helaena loves Aemond as he does her. You must know that Aegon could never be a good husband to Helaena. It is difficult to love someone when you already love another. He does not understand Helaena as Aemond does and Aemond does not understand me as Aegon does.”

The Queen was silent as she thought of much you did not know. The King was just as silent but had a look of appraisal and he turned his face to Alicent as it appeared he silently asked her opinion.

“The Queen and I have much to discuss for tomorrow,” he told you in an even measured voice as he looked to you. “Have a good evening, Lady Y/N.”

With a curtsey you were gone and had no idea what was decided.

You had decided to eat dinner alone that evening and were content in some solitude until a harsh knock pounded on your door.

With a frown, you stood up from your small table and walked to the doors only for another knock to be harshly pounded on your doors. You were quick to open it, planning on telling off whomever was the one assaulting your door and to scold your guard from letting them do this.

You did not expect to see him of all people.

“Why did you do this?” Aegon asked and you did not have time to answer him before he was pushing into your room and closing the door behind him.

He was already walking further into your rooms when you turned you him. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Y/N,” he spat at you, words thick with betrayal. “Why?”

“You have some nerve, Aegon,” you hissed at him, now upset at him. It was easily to not hate him when you barely saw him but now? Now it was hard to ignore him. “Bursting into my rooms unannounced, accusing me of something you will not name, and am I to assume it is you who sent my guard away.”

“There are still some who listen to their princes,” he said in a low voice.

“Oh, of course, my prince,” you couldn’t help yourself as you mocked him. “Anything the prince wants, of course. The prince may even be in another woman’s rooms the eve before his wedding because as we know the prince always gets what he—”

You did not finish mocking him, not as his lips were so very suddenly on your own. It caught you off guard and he must have felt your rigid form as he pulled back before you had the time to kiss him back.

“I never get what I want, Y/N. I thought you smart enough to know that by now.”

“What are you doing here?” You asked quieter this time. “You should be resting. Tomorrow is your wedding.”

Even in your anger at him you could not forsake him as you had believed he had forsaken you these weeks and months since the day on the hill above King’s Landing.

“My brother visited me but an hour ago,” he told you, voice nearly as quiet as yours. “The first time he has not visited me without yelling insults upon me for my behavior.”

You said nothing even in the silence as you stared at him.

“Apparently our mother went to him and said that she and the King had a change of heart about a wedding to take place tomorrow.”

Your heart leaped in your chest. Could it be?

“She called off your wedding with Helaena?”

“No, there will be a wedding,” he corrected you and just as your heart had leaped it now fell into your stomach.

Would you be shunned by the royal family, you wondered. Would they even allow you to marry Aemond after this treachery? Or would they only not let you attend the wedding.

“I see. I am not allowed to attend.”

“That would be quite impossible,” he told you. “As it will be your wedding.”

“What?” You asked him, startled.

“Aemond informed me himself. Tomorrow there will be a wedding but I will say no vows to my sister. I will say them to you.”

“And what of your brother and sister?”

“They will be happily in attendance,” he said, smiling. “This spring they will be married as is our mother and father’s desire.”

You let out a breath you did not realize you were holding. “Oh Aegon,” you uttered his name, suddenly feeling happy for the first time in months. “You mean to tell me—”

“Whatever you said to my parents must have been very convincing,” he said, sounding teasing and you found you did not mind it. “My brother was very shocked it seemed.”

A laugh of disbelief passed your lips and you did not think twice as you launched yourself in his arms. As you wrapped your arms around his neck embracing him as his own arms wound around your waist, you heard a similar come from him.

It was hard to stop yourself as you breathed in his smell as your lips were near his neck, barely grazing the skin so close to his ear. The weight that had weighed heavily on your shoulders and created a tension that made a home in your muscles loosened at his hold on you that had been absent in months. The familiar smell that you had forgotten in the past months had found its way back to you.

You were finally home now that you were in his arms.

Pulling your head back your nose brushed his so slightly. The realization of how inappropriate this was no longer phased you. He was not going to be your good brother. He was going to be your husband.

“We are to be married,” your words came out in a breath.

The affection in his eyes made you feel more like a girl than a woman. It was reminiscent of how he made you feel when you would hide away on the hill in his company when you were betrothed to others.

“You will be mine,” he promised and this time it did not sound like a childhood fantasy.

Then he smiled more boyishly and you felt like a girl freshly in love again. With a playful manner, he tugged your waist, bringing your closer to him. Laughing, you gazed up at him, no doubt looking love struck.

“My lady wife,” he murmured with affection. With how close you were, all he had to do was tilt his head down to brush your lips.

You were the one to push further into him and lock your lips in a true kiss. This is how it should be. This was what it felt like to kiss the man you loved.

When you came for air he was quick to lean his forehead on yours, still smiling like he too was incredibly love struck. “One day I will tell any with ears to how my lady wife fought for my hand. How she fought for me.”

Still in his embrace, you smiled. “I would fight for you any day, my love.”

The endearment must have done something to him. He only looked more reverently at you. “My lady wife to be,” he said like a prayer, stroking your cheek. “My sweetest love.”

“Yours,” you said in a whisper, just as reverent.

He closed his eyes, melting into your touch. “Mine.”

His lips were on yours again, desperate and loving. You both knew you had your heart’s desire. Sleep would come easier this night than it had in months.

taglist: @itsghostgirlyo @rosaryos @cullenswife @whatafreakingloser @witchofthenorthstar @m-indkiller @thelittleswanao3 @green-lxght @somemydayy @malfoytargaryen @bellameshipper @targaryenmoony

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comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

a/n: there will be one more part to this with their wedding!

#aegon x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aemond x reader

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