#tris x baelor

[alleyskywalker]

NEW ASOIAF Fics

A Son for Riverrun - 1,750 - PG - Asha-centric; Asha/Edmure Riverwife 'verse. Asha gives birth to Edmure's heir. She's got some complicated feelings about it.

Love Again - 1,309 - PG - Sansa/Jeyne W After the war, Jeyne came to Winterfell in a search of peace and a family that can understand her. By the start of summer, she and Sansa realize they've found more than that with each other.

The Sweetest Marriage - 1,861 - PG - Tris/Sansa Sansa spends a peaceful evening at home.

Three Letters - 1,410 - PG - Tris/Theon, Tris/Asha, Tris/Baelor Tris writes three letters, at three different times in his life, to three very different love interests.

[asumi2020202]

Was I truly that Bad?

Pairing: Dad!Daemon x reader

Summary: Whilst fulfilling the wishes of his Queen, Daemon accidentally hurt you beyond repair. He regretted it till death.

A/n: This idea just recently popped up in my head. So I wrote it down hehe. Anyways, this will have the ending same as Helaena's. Thank you for reading.

Note:

There are some changes in the storyline.

It is short, I don't really know if I like it.

____________________________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ_____

All throughout the realm, you were the only one acknowledged as a true born child of Rhaenyra. You had silky white hair, and violet eyes like you mother and... Father

Rhaenyra had a you in secret. You were conceived after the birth of Jace but before the birth of Luke. Everyone knew you were Daemon's daughter since his affection was not really secretive.

You were offered to Aemond Targaryen to 'fix' the rift between the family much to your father's dislike.

The Hell broke loose when Luke died because of your husband and his dragon.

You had a son with Aemond. He was the only light you had after receiving the news of Aegon's coronation.

Aemond tried to be there for you when Aegon said that you would not leave your room. He wanted to keep you hostage knowing you were the Queen and King consort's daughter.

_________________________________________

"He has white hair and one eye. Should be easy enough to find." Daemon spoke.

The man before him stayed silent for a second before replying "What if we can't find him?".

Daemon only looked him in eye before giving further information.

_________________________________________

You were in the nursery, singing to you child when suddenly someone entered.

You thought it was a maid or Aemond. So you turned around only to find a rat catcher.

You were going to scream but he put his dagger on your throat before you could. You son was still in your arms.

The rat catcher smirked as another man entered.

"Who's she?" The other man asked.

"She's the Queen she is." Replied the rat catcher in a whispering manner.

"A son.. for a son he said."

"I know but look in her arms. That's the prince's son."

The rat catcher released your throat before saying " we ain't here to hurt ya. We only want the boy."

You looked visibly shocked and fear stricken.

"I have a necklace..... It is of great value." You spoke as you tried to removed it with one hand. The taller man tore it off you neck before saying "thats not a son."

"Kill me please. I beg you don't hurt my child." By now you were already crying. The rat catcher forcefully took your son from your hands.

In front of your very eyes you saw your little boy's head getting separated. The men hastily put his head inside a bag before leaving.

You started to sob heavily. Having difficulties breathing.

Aemond barged through the room after he heard your screams and wails. Alicent, Aegon and Otto were present too. Alicent wanted to throw up.

Aegon was sad. He always did love you. He wanted your mother to betroth you to him but he was already betrothed to Helaena. Now that he saw you like this, desperately trying to wipe the blood that oozed out of your son's body, he felt hurt too.

From that day forth, you didn't eat, sleep or even bathe. You were completely dead inside. More so when you got to know that the one who sent them was your father. Grief blinded you.

_________________________________________

The green council had decided to send you and the Dowager Queen to the funeral after they caught one of the perpetrator.

The people tried to reach for you as they saw your son, Baelor's body. The way the 1 year old boy's head was stitched with his neck.

The cart which held your son's body fell in a hole in the road. People tried to approach you and touch you, giving their condolences. You desperately clutched on Alicent's cloth as she tried to help you through your panic attack.

You couldn't hear anything. Only a ringing in your ear as you knelt in your and the Dowager Queen's cart. The last thing you heard was

"A curse! A curse on Rhaenyra the Monstrous!"

Someone cursed your mother. Soon all went black as your vision faded.

_________________________________________

"How could you do this Daemon?! To our sweet child!" Rhaenyra shouted, fury and sorrow flooding through.

"I told them specifically for Aemond. Shes my daughter as well, I know I did wrong. It was a mistake.

I was there that day. The day she was forced to attend the funeral. I am hurt as well knowing my daughter lost her son!" Daemon replied.

"You will never understand what a mother feels when she loses her child. My little girl lost her only child. Alicent reached out to me in secret! She told me that my girl is not even eating properly! She's down with a heavy fever..." Rhaenyra argued. She was crying.

Daemon had made a grave mistake. He never wanted to hurt you. He never meant for his grandchild to die. Right in front of your eyes. He wanted to kill Aemond for Luke's death, yes. But he wanted to kill Aemond so you could be free. So you could come back to your family. He never wanted to bring you pain. You were his daughter, his little zaldrīzes.

________________________________________

The black council was going on and on with what move they should play. Rhaenyra was getting frustrated.

Rhaenyra's personal maid, Elinda came in. She bowed before all, her eyes watering. As Rhaenyra was going to ask her what happened she said

"The princess is dead." All stopped. Everything and everyone silent. Rhaenyra stood still.

"A raven came in just n-now.... It said that Princess y/n jumped off of her window. H-her body was stabbed by Maegor's blades...." Elinda cried as she said. Leaving the room quickly.

The lords all left the council. Only Rhaena, Baela, Jacaerys, Daemon, Rhaenyra and Rhaenys were there.

Daemon couldn't comprehend anything. Her daughter..... Dead? No she wouldn't do that. A dragon's flame cannot be extinguished so easily.

Rhaenyra fell on the floor as Rhaenys supported her. She felt fury. But all she could do was cry. Her sweet girl. Her little Y/n. It was as if only yesterday she was tugging on her skirt and now she's....... dead.....

Jacaerys didn't know what to do. His little sister was dead. Consumed by the grief of the death of his nephew. First he lost Luke now y/n...

Baela and Rhaena cried that entire day. Blaming themselves for not protecting you as elder sisters should.

_________________________________________

Daemon was going to Harrenhal. As he was about to mount Caraxes, as guard came in and handed him something.....

....it was a necklace..... The same one he had given you. He felt a tear fall down his cheek. His heart hurt. So much. Yet he couldn't express it.

_________________________________________

Daemon had conquered Harrenhal. He was walking inside his leaking room when he heard his door being violently knocked on.

After picking up his sword, he carefully came down the stairs outside his room. He found a room.

He saw a figure humming while sitting infront of the fireplace.

As he got closer, the figure spoke to him

"I'm a bad child aren't i? You hate me. I always disobeyed everyone. But I only did so to be with you." It was you. His eyes watered. You were wearing the necklace he gave you.

He shook his head no. He didn't hate you because you disobeyed. He loved you for it.

"Why did you punish me so much ? Was I truly that Bad...... Kepã?" He heard you say as he got closer. He saw you stitching your son's head while crying.

His sword fell from his hand as he woke up. He opened his eyes to see a tree. He turned around and saw a woman.

_________________________________________

It was tough. But he did it anyway. He jumped off of Caraxes and landed on Vhagar.

Gripping the Dark Sister tight in his hand, he stabbed it straight through Aemond's right eye.

He saw as Aemond fall in the water. He stumbled as he fell off. Caraxes took Vhagar inside the water.

As Daemon slowly fell from the sky , all he could think about was you.

How he wished he could watch you grow. You were only seven and ten. To young to die.

Before his eyes flashed all the times that you ran away from your septa and hid behind his legs.

The little infant wouldn't stop crying until she was in his arms.

The little toddler first took her steps only to hug her father as he picked her up.

His little y/n. The one who died because of his one mistake.

His eyes were getting blurry and all he saw before he fell in the water was your face, the same face from his dream. Crying. Stitching his grandson's head.

He clutched your necklace tight in his arms as tears gathered in his eyes. His eyes were shut tight. And as he cried...

He repeatedly heard you cry and say

"Was I truly that Bad.............kepã?"

-Lillian

[evagreen-stories]

Mother of the Realm | (Daemon x f!noble!reader) (part 1/?)

Summary: Left behind after the blacks take King's Landing, Aemond’s Lady-Wife finds herself striking a certain arrangement with the rogue prince to guarantee her and her children's safety, though strange occurrences should change the conditions of this arrangement drastically.

Warnings: dark!themes, dubcon/coercion, warcrimes, dark!daemon, age gap, time typical gender roles, lactation kink, breeding kink, p in v, throat fuck, canon typical behaviour, slight degradation, mentions of noncon/forced pr0stitution, mentions of violence, mention of arranged marriage

Non-Canon Storyline: : two years into the civil war, reader (young Lady of house Celtigar) married to Aemond, the war drags on for longer than in canon

Disclaimer: This Fic is written on the basis that most of what mushroom says is true! The story came to me in a fever dream and I felt like typing it out lol. This storyline is mixed of book  / hearsay / imagination; I tried to write it all out in a way that makes sense and is easy to follow.

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

my masterlist series moodboard series masterlist

It's the dance of the dragons, the war has been going on for two years and has escalated to new dimensions of destruction and violence, with the blacks now having invaded and taken over Kings Landing and the Red Keep where you, the lady wife of Aemond Targaryen, live as well.

Married a year before the dance of dragons began, you have given him two sons already; a young boy of 26 months old, Rhaegar, and a babe of 11 months, Baelor, and are with your third; four months along, the maester’s presume.

Most green supporters were now locked in cells while you and your children were imprisoned in your chambers; a privilege you received as you are the only daughter of Lord Bartimos Celtigar, a loyal supporter of the blacks.

Who knows, had your father not been swayed by the sweet words and reassurances of queen Alicent, hadn’t fallen trap into accepting the marriage proposal to Aemond in an effort of hers to sway your house’s loyalty in favour of her side, perhaps then you would now be standing on the other side of this door as a free woman. 

Instead, your own husband had kept you surveilled at all times ever since the war began, in fear you would run away and join the blacks, and had forbidden you from leaving the Red Keep ever since his return from Storm’s End where he had gone to secure a betrothal for his younger brother Daeron to one of the Baratheon girls; an endavour that would end with the death of Lucerys Velaryon and jump-start the most brutal civil war seen to date.

Followed by at least one kings guard as soon as you stepped out of your chambers, the presence of your husband and the freedom to roam the gardens and halls had made it easy to forget your new house rules on most days.

With the confinement you had found yourself in ever since the war began you had turned all your attention and efforts into becoming the best and most loving mother you could be. A desire perhaps fueled by the clear preference of your own mother towards your brothers.

You wanted to be better than that. You studied books and listened to old wives' tales ever since you had flowered, knowing it wouldn’t be long until you would be wed off to fulfil your duty as a proper lady-wife.

And fulfil your duty you would. Unlike most other nobles you had taken to not employing a wet nurse or nursemaids at all.

Being made prisoner in your own home freed up all your time to be able to do so. Your sons would sleep in your chambers and be on your lap all day long. Both had only ever drank your milk, knowing no other chest but their mother’s.

And yet, what had once been a cage with thin, golden bars and a nice view, had now turned into one of thick stone walls, the confinement of your chambers only being eased by the presence of your two young children.

The days were long alone, yet more peaceful for you than you had expected them to be. Even if your father had not come to see you once, you did speak to your trusted servants, listening to the tales they would tell you about just what was going on outside the very wooden door you would stare at daily. 

And by the sevens, was it horrifying.

Rhaenyra, now dubbed ‘the cruel’ and ‘Maegor with teats’, had ordered the forceful taking of the two queen's Alicent and Helaena to a pleasure house, their services to be sold to whoever could afford it; at least those are the rumours that have been spread around the castle grounds.

Any woman would think this fate horrifying but even more so you: as wife of the prince regent at the court of the usurper you certainly were an easy target for the mad queen’s wrath. Worry of being made to share the same fate consumed you more with each day; a fear that would eventually make you request an audience with Rhaenyra.

Instead of her, you now find yourself with her husband the rogue prince – or now, the king consort – Daemon standing in front of you.

“I requested to speak to Rhaenyra.”

“Yes. And now you’ve got me. Speak before I change my mind.”

You stay silent for a few moments, pondering how to ask the question. "Is it true what they claim? About Alicent and Helaena, the pleasure house?"

"Oh it is true," Daemon said, walking slowly towards you as he spoke, his eyes roaming you from your head to your feet. He stopped a few feet before you and looked into your eyes, the smell of sweat and ash surrounding the dragon rider. 

"Alicent is not a hostage nor a political ploy - she is a traitor, guilty of high treason, and will be treated as such. The usurper queen may say otherwise but we all know the truth."

“What about Helaena?” You say, almost pleading, Alicent and you had clashed often over the past two years, your differences in mothering and you not being devout to the faith being a frequent cause of argument; but Helaena – oh, sweet Helaena – is a different story.

Another victim of powerful scheming. You had to watch her suffer tremendously from the effects of blood & cheese, something that too shook you to the core. The son of your dear friend, slain so horrendously right in front of his mother and siblings. 

"She had no choice in any of it, she is innocent."

"Helaena," Daemon said, scoffing at the mention of her name. Of all the greens, Helaena was the only one that he didn't really hate. "She may be innocent, but she knows what kind of people her mother and brother are and she remains loyal to them. What does that say of her?"

"Helaena never had a choice, neither did I. We are not like your wife Daemon; we did not have the blessing of having a king as our father that would let us do however we pleased. We were all forced into this." You protest, frustration now evident in your voice. "You have already killed her son. Beheaded him infront of her own eyes. Is that not enough?"

“We did not kill him; we simply avenged our own.” Daemon's scowl deepened as you spoke, though he had to admit you were right, at least somewhat. "Fine. It seems you are the only one who wants to plead for her safety. I will speak to the rightful queen, perhaps she won't be entirely opposed to your request of freeing Helaena.."

Daemon paused for a moment, gaze lowering to your bump, before speaking again. "Tell me. Who is the father of the child you are carrying?"

You look down your small bump at his words, laying a hand on it reflexively. "My husband, Aemond, of course. Why?"

Daemon took note of your movements as your hand went to your belly, a flicker of hatred in his eyes when you said Aemond's name. "Just making an observation. How old are you now? 20? And already three kids at your heels…”

"I will turn 19 soon. Yes, I’m carrying my third child. What of it?" you tilt your head slightly, taken aback by his change of topic and his increasingly intrusive questions.

"Three children, at nineteen." Daemon seemed almost impressed. He looked at your belly again.

"I don't know of what concern my husband and I's private matters are." Your voice betrays you, sounding way more hostile as you intended it to.

Daemon looked at you in a way that made you uncomfortable. He was eyeing your body up and down, and his silence made you feel his gaze prickling your skin. "Does your husband like seeing you pregnant?"

You stare at him silently, mouth agape at the shock of such an intimate question. "Yes..." You admit reluctantly.

A smirk broke through Daemon's frown, as a low chuckle came from his lips, eyes still lingering on your stomach. "He keeps you as his broodmare. You're clearly a fine one as well; babes not even out of the cradle before you’re with child again. I don't blame him."

"He is my husband. It's his right to have children with his wife." You say defensively; repeating the words you have been taught all your life.

"It is indeed." Daemon said, taking a step closer to you, invading your personal space. He took a deep breath through his nose, taking in your scent. This close, he could see his own reflection in your eyes. "His right, and your duty. You must be a good wife to please him so thoroughly."

You stare at him silently again, before shrugging timidly. "He doesn't complain." You don't want to risk saying too much, so you continue with the question you had been planning to ask all this while.

"Rhaenyra... What is she planning to do with me? With my children? I heard she has rewards out for Maelor…"

"She has no intention of killing you or your children. Though you may still be stripped of your title as princess." Daemon paused a moment before continuing. "As for Maelor... There is a bounty on his head, yes. He is the only remaining son of the usurper. Since he is so young she will let him live; but only under her influence." 

He raises his hand to tug a strand of hair behind your ear. "She contemplated selling you to the pleasure house as well, you know? But since you're gravid and played no instrumental part in their schemes, I could persuade her not to do so."

You look at him wide-eyed, feeling a pit form in your stomach, as if your worst fears had been confirmed. "What- a-are you jesting?"

Daemon took note of your reaction. He was still close, he could see the outline of a dimple in your cheek and smell the sweet scent of your milk surrounding you; a smell still clinging to your body as you had just finished feeding your youngest before he entered the room. 

"Indeed. Rhaenyra is not like other women. Much less merciful and the men that surround her even less so." He said, still smirking. His hand had found its way to your waist now, his fingers running along your side. "But a good word from me and I could persuade her not to do so. You should thank me."

You stare at him, your hand moving to hold onto his arm, ready to push him away. You study his face, recognising an unsettling darkness in them. "You wouldn’t do this just because. What is it you want from me?"

"Hmm..." Daemon took another deep breath, your scent was really strong with this one. Different notes were in your scent as well. He wondered if those were remnant of your perfume you had applied in the morning or perhaps an oil youve applied to your hair.

He let out a sigh as he tried to keep it from affecting him. He lowered his head towards yours and spoke slowly, every word a whisper. "No, you're right. I wouldn't do it just because. But for you, I could make some exceptions. You've always had my attention, you know that? The pretty little thing that you are, wed to my maimed nephew."

"What are you saying?" You try to sound brave but the quiver in your voice betrays you.

Daemon chuckled as he noticed your nervousness. He could tell from your shaking body that you were afraid. He put a hand under your chin, moving your head to look into his eyes. He spoke slowly and quietly.

"Let me have you and I shall guarantee your and your children's safety."

You stare at him bewildered, stunned silent for several long moments. "Are you mad? I will not betray my husband!"

Daemon chuckled, amused by your naivety and innocence. "Oh my sweet lady... Do you have any idea what you're in now? You're in war, taken hostage by your enemy. Your husband will be happy so long you don't die. I cannot sire a babe on you anyway, so there is nothing to worry about." Daemon smirked, looking at your stomach, and your body, that sweet aroma that surrounded you, drawing him closer and closer.

"Give yourself to me and I shall guarantee yours and your children’s wellbeing.” He doubles down.

You stare at him, trembling slightly in fear and anger, your voice growing quieter the more you struggle to contain your emotions. "You can't be serious. If... If my husband won't have my head for this, then your wife will."

He raised an eyebrow as you spoke, a smirk gracing his face. He was still holding onto you, close enough to kiss you if he wanted to. His gaze was fixed on your lips as well, and your scent was just so... Irresistible to him. 

"Rhaenyra won't care. In our marriage we are free to seek pleasure wherever we like as long as our loyalties don’t falter. The things I can do to you, you will enjoy them alright..." His voice became low and quiet again as he spoke the last words, the hand that previously rested on your waist now slithering around your back and ascending lower and lower with each passing moment.

You stare at him in disbelief, fear and anger boiling inside you. Just when you want to protest yet again, the loud sounds of something collapsing startle you, your head snapping to look around Daemon's wide frame with urgency.

Your eyes settle onto Rhaegar. The wooden tower he was building had collapsed, an inconvenience the toddler quickly moves on from by starting to build it anew. Baelor sits not far from him, abandoning his own toy to crawl over and investigate his brothers doings.

The anger you had been feeling subsides immediately, replaced by worry and an urge to cry as you worry for whatever their fate will be as this war continues.

You don't want this.

You do not want to let him touch you, but it might be the only way to protect your children from harm, especially considering how cruel rhaenyra has proven herself to be. Your stare is focused on your oldest still, watching as his tiny hands wrap around each block and meticulously place one onto the other.

So innocent, so fragile.

"What about them?" Your voice as soft as a whisper.

Daemon didn't take his eyes away from yours. His gaze burning into you as he studies every expression you make. Your scent, your warmth, almost driving him crazy. "They will be taken care of. I told you I wouldn't let them come to harm." He said as he ran a hand through your hair, the curls of your hair wrapping around his fingers. "Don't worry, sweet girl, all will be well. If you agree to my terms, that is."

He can watch your jaw clenching and eyes gloss over before hearing the ever so soft word he has been waiting for leaving your lips. "Fine."

Servants had been sent by Daemon to take your children to bathe them and play with them. You did not miss the sympathetic look they gave you. Perhaps being able to tell what will happen to you purely based on his instructions to not return until he tells them to. 

You’re standing at a window looking out at the city taking note of the sun lowering on the horizon, dressed in nothing but a simple silk robe, when the door opens and Daemon walks in without knocking.

He steps inside, wearing the same clothes from before; sword and dagger still at his side. He comes closer and takes in your appearance, pleased at the sight. He approaches you with a calm step until your bodies are mere inches apart, bringing his hand up to caress your arm.

"You’re trembling," Daemon spoke, his voice smooth and dark. His eyes were examining you again, taking in your appearance. You had changed from the last time he saw you, you looked more womanly now.

A mother to two already, with a third growing inside, the outline of your small bump visible through the loose fabric. His movements were precise and confident. You could tell he was trying hard to contain himself.

For now.

Your gaze follows the movements of his hand as it runs up and down your arm. You can feel his large calloused hand and cold skin through the thin fabric of your robe. It’s a stark contrast to your soft and warm skin, unmarked and unblemished from living sheltered all your life.

In a small voice, barely more than a whisper, you ask, “Can we just get this over with?”

Daemon nods, taking note of your trembling once more before he turns and walks over to a nearby table, taking off his sword and dagger and placing them onto it. His head tilted as he looked at you from where he is standing.

"You were quick to give into me so easily. Were you that desperate? Does your husband not satisfy you?" He said with a smirk, beginning to undo his tunic.

You tighten your jaw, upset at his words that, to you, sound accusatory of promiscuity - a sin for a highborn lady. A married one especially.

“Desperate to keep my children safe, yes. My husband always kept me well satisfied.”

"Hmm..." Daemon huffed. His body language shifted a little. He seemed more agitated and tense, not liking that you brought up Aemond's name, much less so that you praised him. He walked back towards you now, closing the distance slowly and taking a good look at you.

His eyes kept darting to your stomach as you spoke of your husband. With every movement you make you entice him even more. “I don't know what he does to you to satisfy you, but I assure you I can do it better."

You roll your eyes at his words; he had always been cocky.

"He and I are very compatible in that regard. Now, can you just do what you need to do? I'd prefer to get this over with soon." It was the truth. Aemond’s and your intimate life was very well. Three children in three years of marriage served as proof of that.

Daemon's blood was running hot at this point.

"Compatibilities. I see..." Daemon said, his words filled with mockery. "Well, there's nothing I'd prefer more right now than to be inside of you, so I guess we're compatible as well." He approaches you quickly, now dressed in nothing but his breeches, eagerly tugging at the belt holding your robe closed, watching as it falls open and reveals your bare body underneath.

He took a sharp breath as he took in your figure, almost letting out a moan of desire at the sight of your body, his gaze roaming your body eagerly.

“Gods, you’re stunning.” His gaze settles on your breasts, swollen from all the milk inside them. “I heard you don’t employ a wet nurse. Why is that?”

You stare ahead blankly, trying not to make any sound or expression when you can feel his hand rest on the curve of your waist. “I don’t believe its good for the mother-child bond. That mothers should nurse their own children, or they will bond with the wet nurse instead.”

Daemon smirks at your response, thumb caressing over your delicate skin as he now looks at your face. “Is that so? Does your husband enjoy watching you breastfeed?” He asks with a low chuckle before pulling you in, his hardened length in his pants now pressing against your belly as He holds you close with both arms wrapped around your waist. “Or does he enjoy tasting your milk himself? Do not lie to me, woman. You won’t like the consequences if you do.”

Your hands rest on his chest, you’re fighting the urge to push him away with every fiber of your being, your head hanging low as you do not dare to look at him directly. You take note of his skin; scars and healed burns covering his muscular form. The body of a battle-hardened warrior.

Reluctantly you admit, “Both…”.

“Oh… you’re even more of a little whore than I thought, aren’t you?” he whispers into your ear. “What an eager to serve little thing you are. You’ll make a good little toy for me after all.” One arm wrapped still around your waist the other moves to your front, his large hand stroking over that small bump of yours.

“Almost makes me sad you’re with child already. I’d have loved to pound my own into you.”

Your head snaps up at him now, huffing in offense you exclaim, “Daemon!”

He simply smirks, amused by your objection. Leaning in close he whispers into your ear, his hot breath burning on your skin. “You may be carrying my nephew’s child now but there is always a next time. A few more months and I could still make you mine.”

He turns around with you in his arms, leading you backwards towards the bed until you feel the mattress on the back of your legs. A small push of his makes you sit down on it. Knowing your duty, you take it upon yourself to scoot fully onto the mattress.

He watches with a smile on his lips as you do so, happy with your compliance before reaching down and spreading your legs open for him to look after he noticed you keeping them shut.

He takes a good look at the treasure between them, groaning out when his manhood twitches at the sight of it. He stands up straight again, taking off the breeches that held him contained until now as his intense stare moves up your body once more.

You feel so vulnerable and exposed for him, completely bare and spread wide open for him to examine as the intensity of his gaze only intensifies. He does not look like a man now. With his pupils blown wide he resembles more a predator ready to pounce its prey than anything else.

His gaze fixed on your cunt, as if in a daze, he reaches out tentatively, his rough fingertips grazing along the sensitive flesh for painfully long moments.

Tracing along the form of your fleshy lips again and again, your breathing is but nervous gasping as one shiver after the other runs over your skin.

Suddenly the sensation fades as he climbs between your legs, one hand on your thigh to keep you spread open for him as he starts pushing himself into you without any more preparation, blissfully surprised to find your cunt wet and welcoming for him.

He can’t hold back a low groan as he pushes himself all the way into you, leaning forward and lying fully on top of you. His face is mere inches from yours as he slowly starts to move his hips, deeply penetrating you at a slow pace while he studies your every expression.

Grunting, your hands move to hold onto his sides as his knees dip into the mattress on either side of you. You clench your jaw tightly, trying to stop any sounds from escaping your lips while you struggle to accommodate him.

Aemond was more than enough to satisfy you, but Daemon was a whole lot more man than him – in all regards.

He knows this, too. Its easy for him to tell by the way your nails dig into his skin as you struggle to get used to him.

“How come you’re so eager, sweet thing? Do you enjoy a man taking charge of you?” A wicked grin on his face his movements become more powerful, your body rocking back and forth with the force of it.

You want to say no, to deny every second of it and not give him the satisfaction of watching you enjoy his touch, but when he starts to hit an all too familiar spot inside of you, you crumble immediately. Not being able to hold back your moans anymore you can barely manage to answer him with a weak “…yes”.

“No wonder my nephew wouldn’t stop breeding you. You’re the perfect little plaything.” He pushes his body into yours, pushing you into the mattress while he whispers into your ear. “Don’t worry, sweet girl. I will violate you properly and make sure you enjoy every second of it.”

With that, his thrusts quickly grow rougher, starting to pound you with such force the entire bed rocks with it, all while watching every expression on your face.

His breathing heavy and rasp he soon shifts his attention down to your breasts, that are bobbing up and down with each forceful clashing of his hips into your. He tried to control himself, he really did, but he just cant anymore.

A hand cupping your breast he leans in, taking the sensitive nub on it between his lips. Just a few soft movements of his tongue over it and he can already taste it. Feeling the warm and sweet liquid dripple onto his tongue makes him humm contently as he starts indulging himself in the sweetness of you. His hips grind into you deeply but at much more humane pace than before.

Your eyes shut in pleasure, your own hands moving by themselves as they embrace him, moving into his hair and caressing his back. This is what Aemond liked, your dear husband.

Oh, if you would ever see him again…

Daemon is surprised, you embracing him was the last thing he expected, even less so you pulling him in more, but he loved every second of it.

He would swear he is in heaven. The warm embrace of his cock while the sweetness of your milk covers his tongue driving him crazy. It could have been hours of him doing this or mere seconds, all he knows is he finds himself spilling his seed into you way sooner than he wanted to, his relentless thrusting an expression of his frustration as his loud moans fill the room, shameless and utterly unafraid of how much the guards outside your door will hear of this.

His slow and deep grinding into your cunt continues as he stays suckling on your breasts, his spend soon clinging to both of your hips and pulling long white strings whenever he pulls away only to push back in with even more force. His antics only cease when he is sure he has drank all of what you can give, both your breasts feeling comfortably light while a throbbing sensation in your cunt would stay with you until the next day, you're sure.

He collapses onto you, still deeply buried inside, squishing your breasts under his weight while his heavy breaths right in your ear send shivers down your spine. Your arms travel by themselves again, wrapping around him and holding him close. Just how Aemond has always demanded you hold him.

“You’re a very good fuck… really good.” Daemon growls right into your ear.

A few moments later, he rolls off of you onto his back, laying next to you and catching his breath while studying your side profile.

This quiet moment gives you the first chance to gain back your senses, a wave of guilt washing over you as the sensation of another mans spend spilling out of you and running down your skin onto the mattress makes you realise the severity of what had just happened. Eyes fluttering, trying to ignore the burning sensation in them, you say, “I think… I think you should leave now.”

Had you have looked at him, you would have noticed his smiling face turn to stone in an instant.

This was the worst thing you could have said.

To command the dragon to leave your bed. He could not leave that be.

“Stay quiet. You have no say in this.” His voice is stern now and he rolls onto his side, leaning over your body and staring daggers into your skull, his hand grabbing your chin harshly and making you look at him. “If I want to abuse your pretty little cunt all night I will do so. And you will take it.”

“Don’t... don’t you have somewhere to be?” Your voice is shaky, your fear heightened by the anger you can see burn in his eyes. A desperate attempt of yours to sound considerate for his valuable time is only pouring more oil into the fire.

“Don’t try to tell me what to do. I have all the time in the world to play with you.” His fingers twitch slightly, as if holding back the urge to choke you. “Stop acting like a baby. You know the way of our world. You know when a woman is better off just taking a cock and shutting up.”

“Damn it, I need a break.” He sighs, it sounds almost like a growl as he tries to control his anger. He lets go of you, shoving you away slightly, as he gets up of the bed and takes a few deep breaths. “You got me all riled up, whore.”

You sit up in the bed, hugging your legs as you look at him. His large frame, the burn scars all over his back, his temper flaring and the sheer power he holds over your fate make you fear for the consequences.

You didn’t mean to upset his highness.

“Don’t call me a whore…” It slips out quietly under your breath, yet he hears it anyway. You weren’t used to such language. Despite his acts, Aemond would never say a foul word to you. 

Oh, Aemond…

“Shut up, whore!” Daemons raised voice take you out of your thoughts. He barks, closing in on you rapidly and pulling your head back with a tight grip on your hair. “Would I send you to the pleasure house being called a whore would be the least of your problems! Show me some gratitude!”

Daemon‘s anger takes over, mixed with his still pressing need in his cock, he drags you off the bed and pushes you to your knees in front of it, the bedframe pressing into your back uncomfortably.

“Perhaps I was too nice to you.” He growls, hand still in your hair as he makes you look up at him, ignoring all your pleas and apologies.

“Let me show you your new place in life. Open wide.” He commands, his other hand having a firm grasp on his cock as he traces the form of your lips with it.

For the first time ever since his first visiy earlier today, genuine fear overcomes you. Not daring to oppose him, you open your mouth as commanded, gagging immediately as he shoves himself into your mouth.

Aemond enjoyed the mouth pleasures as well yet had been far gentler than he was. Your hands move to Daemons thighs on their own, trying to push him back just a little, but when his second hand too moves to your head and holds it in place, all hope for ease is lost.

Tears start burning in your eyes in an instant once the thick head of his cock hits the back of your mouth, even more so when you can feel it push in deeper, forcefully flattening your tongue underneath as he made his way into your throat.

The room fills with his sounds of pleasure, guttural moans and growls, your desperate gagging and struggle drowned out by the volume of his.

The bed behind you and his hands in your hair make any escape impossible and you thank the gods when after what feels like an eternity he finally pulls out of your throat, a string of saliva connecting him to you as you gasp desperately for air.

“Fuck, that’s it,” his voice is deep and raw with lust, “That’s a good girl, finally.”

The praise does little to make any of it easier as he thrust himself back into your mouth and down your throat before you even had a chance to wipe your now freely flowing tears.

Daemon soon loses himself in his depravities, the fleshy pouch on his stones slapping harshly against your chin with each thrust. Your face a mess of tears and spit you’re unable to do much more than dig your nails into his thighs and take all he wants to give.

By the time he shoves himself all the way down your throat, his hips flush with your face as he tightly holds your head in place and spills what else he had left in him into you, you’ve near lost all grasp on reality.

Your back and knees aching near as much as your jaw, you can finally breathe in relief once he separates himself from you once and for all, leaving you collapsing forward with heavy breaths as he stumbles backwards a few steps, groaning in satisfaction as he studies your pitiful state.

“This is where you belong from now on,” he says after a while, “On your knees for me, whenever I want. Do you understand this now, whore?”

On your hands and knees, still breathing heavily and coughing occasionally, you take a few moments to find your voice again. Avoiding his gaze, you mumble, “…yes.”

“That is no way to talk to your king,” he objects, “Speak properly, whore. You’re a princess, you know how to.”

Defeated, you make no more attempts to be willful. Looking up at him, you answer, “I understand now, my king.”

A wicked smile on his face he approaches you, petting your head a few times. “That’s a good princess. Now clean yourself up. You would not want your spawn to see you like this.”

Leisurely walking back to where his clothes lay discarded, he starts dressing himself as if this all had been nothing out of the ordinary.

Adding “I will be back for more once I feel like it.”, he grabs his swords and disappears out of the door just as swiftly as when he had arrived, shutting it with a loud thud.

You were still on the floor, your back now resting against the bed as you spread out your aching legs in front of you, hoping for relief in this much more comfortable position.

A thousand thoughts run through your head yet not a single one stays long enough to grasp.

With no idea just how much time has passed it is the sound of commotion in the halls outside tour door that draws you out of your blank stare. It was late in the day now and the sky barely lit. It was suppertime for most, and undoubtedly, the maids would soon return with your sons and serve your own meals.

You had hardly managed to throw your nightrobe back on, wipe away the remnants of him with the nearest piece of cloth and open the windows, hoping to ease the smell of sex in the air, before the knocks echo through the room.

Just as predicted, here were your sons, in the same carefree mood they always were. Happy to see their mother and now ready for a meal. Supper was served not long after.

While you had received only stew and bread before, the table was now set with the first mouth-watering meal ever since you’ve been made prisoner. While you sit there, little Baelor on your lap and Rhaegar on a high chair next to you, you watch them intently.

The way each of them indulges in their meals, digging into the food with their bare hands and making a mess that no doubt would require a second bath before bed, your heart aches and you struggle to hold back the tears.

They are so innocent, completely oblivious to the death and suffering surrounding them. Their helplessness stands out to you. Unable to even feed themselves without help, they very much depend on you.

As you go on about the evening, taking the time and enjoying the presence of your two loved ones, by the time you lull the little ones to sleep, you’ve made your decision.

You will do all it takes to keep them safe. All it takes to keep them from harm.

And if that means submitting to Daemon’s every vice without complaint, then so be it.

Authors note: This story is currently halted as I focus on my Aemond and OC works for a while but will eventually continue. Follow me for updates or comment to be put on the taglist for this fic in the future!

View this series masterlist and moodboard for extra content.

[rax-writes]

↬ the morning after

Tywin Lannister x Reader

Notes: Reader is a Stark but no physical description is mentioned. Based on an idea that came to me, as a result of the Tywin brainrot I've been experiencing.

The suggestion of your marriage to Tywin Lannister had come as quite a shock to the entire Stark family.

Lord Eddard had sputtered out a weak argument, too stunned to form a compelling rebuttal on the spot, but King Robert had waved his hand and said, "Look, I know he's old, but he needs more heirs. Jamie swore an oath, and he won't let Casterly Rock go to Tyrion. There's two dozen lords who are either closer to her in age, or more good-looking, but politically, is there any better option for your daughter than Tywin fucking Lannister? He's Warden of the West, Lord of Casterly Rock, and the richest man in the Seven Kingdoms. She’d be wealthy, protected, and living in the Keep with you and your other daughters."

King Robert had then assured you that you were allowed to reject the proposal if you wished. However, he was not wrong about it being a good match, so you consented to the union. You heard whispers of Tywin being furious with the King for suggesting he take a second wife, but once again, no one could deny that the King was right – Tywin needed more heirs.

So, given your stipulation that you marry in the Godswood, in addition to a small ceremony in the Sept of Baelor, you found yourself wedded to the infamous Tywin Lannister within a few days.

It scared the shit out of you.

And your family.

Even more so when you did not join everyone for breakfast the morning after your wedding.

Tywin had refused a bedding ceremony, so no one had a clue what went on after you and your new lord husband left the feast. But seeing Tywin approach the breakfast table alone the next morning sent a chill down the spines of Lord Eddard, Jon, Robb, and even Theon.

Discreetly, Ned grabbed Robb by the upper arm before the boy could leave the table, and told him to go check on you. Robb nodded, having been planning to anyway, and found that he was quickly followed by Jon and Theon – the latter disguising his worry as a curiosity to know whether "the old fuck could still get it up or not."

All three of the young men braced themselves for a gruesome, heart-wrenching sight as they opened the door to Tywin's chambers after you granted them entry – only to find you sitting cross-legged on the bed, smiling at them.

"Good morning, boys."

"Um… good morning," Robb said hesitantly, confused but pleasantly surprised at the state of you.

"I suspected some concern over my absence at breakfast, but I didn't anticipate a search party," you jested, laughing lightly.

Both Robb and Jon merely stared at you, taking in the sight of your messy hair and the three round, rosy bruises on your neck and collarbone, mentally assessing you for any cause for concern. Ultimately, they found nothing, but feared that you were merely putting on a brave face for them.

"Alright, let's cut the shit," Theon announced, shoving past his companions and leaning against the bedpost, arms crossed and grinning at you. "How was it? Did he force himself on you? Can the old man still get it up? Did he have a nap halfway through the act?"

The way he tried to cover up his worried questioning with jokes did not go unnoticed, but you chose to not comment on it.

"It was, uh…. Well, it was fine, let's leave it at that," you replied with a small chuckle, trying to ignore the fact that your face grew red.

"Absolutely fucking not," Theon protested, looking even more intrigued now. "You didn't even answer a single one of my questions. I'll die of curiosity if I don't get some details."

"Look, we don't need… details. We just want to make sure he didn't force himself on you, and that you're alright," Robb explained, and Jon nodded.

"He did not force himself on me. He was a gentleman about it," you assured your brothers. They both breathed sighs of relief, and their shoulders visibly relaxed.

However, before they could relax fully, you turned to Theon and briskly whispered, "I came four times."

"You what?" Jon shrieked, eyes wide and mouth agape, as Robb let out an exaggerated gag beside him. Theon doubled over in a fit of laughter, having to hold the bedpost to keep himself upright.

"You've got to be fucking joking," Theon managed to wheeze, still laughing.

"Definitely not. Now, all of you run along so I can get dressed," you said, standing to shoo your retching brothers and hysterical friend out of the room, closing the door behind them with a laugh.

sequel ↠ when night falls

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Better Than Me

aegon x twin!male!oc (baelor)

Summary: Aegon and Baelor have a complicated relationship but care for each other deeply nonetheless. Baelor is Alicents favorite while Aegon feels like her punishment and she has never hidden this. 

Warnings: 18+ drinking, swearing, depression, alicent being a shitty mom!, handjob, jealous/hate/love/angry sex 

Authors Note: my first true mm and 3rd person pov!!, my bestie helped me come up with thiss, surprise this is angsty 🙂

Word Count: 2.7k

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Baelor hates when he walks past Aegons chambers and can hear him crying. Aegons soft sniffles break Baelors heart. He knocks softly on the door and hears him grumble and try to calm his breathing. Baelor pushes the door open and pops his head in. Aegon throws a blanket at Baelors face as he slips into the chambers. 

“Out,” his voice raw. “Brother.” he looks to him with resentment. “Out,” Aegon storms over to him with a flushed face pushing Baelor against the door. 

“Did she say something again?” he tries to search Aegons eyes but he’s pulling Baelor off the door and out it the next second. Baelor sighs starting down the hall. Servants nod to him as he begins to make his way down the steps. 

“My Prince,” Cole calls from behind. “Your mother would like a word.” Baelor turns to him with annoyed eyes and follows after him. The halls are barren as they slow before his mother’s chambers. 

“Thank you, Cole.” Baelor nods his head and enters seeing Alicent waiting in a chair in her solar. 

“How are you, my sweet boy?” she pulls him into a hug and he hates himself for how much comfort he can receive while his siblings receive scraps. 

“Aegon seems upset.” Baelor pulls back looking to his mother. She brushes back his dark locks and looks at him with soft eyes. When she looks at him she sees herself. She’s always been so gentle with Baelor and his siblings have always resented him for it. 

“Don’t worry about him.” Alicent shakes her head pressing her lips against his forehead. “How are you feeling?

“Cole said you needed me.” Baelor steps out of his mother’s reach and she frowns. 

“Is it a crime to want to see my son?” she shakes her head trying to understand why he’s being so short with her. 

“What of Aegon? He could use some comfort.” Baelor inhales deeply as he sees his mother’s eyes darken and her nostrils flare. 

“I’m sure he’ll find comfort in his cups or servants.” she sighs turning back to her chair. “Then you should go comfort him since you’re so concerned.” Alicent waves Baelor off and he scoffs leaving the chambers. 

Baelor finds himself in the wine cellar looking for a bottle he knows Aegon has loved since they were young boys. Baelor has never had a taste for such indulgences but he’s never faulted his twin for needing an escape. His fingers graze against the matte bottle and he grabs it making his way back to Aegons chambers. 

“Let me in, brother.” Baelor pounds on the door. 

“What?” Aegon rips the door open. 

“I brought wine.” Baelor shrugs lifting the bottle. 

“Come.” he pushes the door open for Baelor to enter. 

“You should let the servants pick up.” Baelor takes in the state of Aegons chambers. “It might make you feel better.” 

“It wouldn’t.” Aegon grabs the bottle from Baelors grasp and begins pouring two glasses. 

“Oh, I didn’t want any.” Baelor raises his hand wincing hoping this doesn’t upset him.

“Always better than me.” Aegon rolls his eyes downing one of the cups. 

“I didn’t say that.” Baelor scrunches his brows knowing this would be the outcome.

“You didn’t have to.” Aegon waves a hand at him downing the other glass. 

“Maybe you should slow down.” Baelor steps to Aegon and he barks out a laugh. 

“Gods you sound just like her. Mother’s perfect little Prince.” Aegon grabs the bottle bringing it further into his chambers. 

“Mother never comes to you, but I do.” Baelor follows him as he grabs more wine from his table. 

“Do not start.” Aegon turns pointing a finger at him. “I did not invite you in here to be ridiculed.” 

“Why did you invite me in, Aegon?” Baelor tilts his head and Aegon clenches his jaw. 

“You know why.” Aegons voice wavers. 

“Then come to the bed.” Baelor nods his head and Aegon sighs hating himself. Baelor crawls into bed and pats the space next to him. Aegon looks at the space begrudgingly and begins to crawl into the bed. Baelor pulls Aegon against his chest and smooths his hair back. 

“Do you think she would be happier if I was dead?” Aegons voice barely audible as he clings to his twin. 

“I hate when you talk like this.” Baelors voice cracks as he holds his brother tighter. “What brought this on today?” he tries to lift Aegons face but he holds on tightly to Baelors waist.

“Everyday is like this lately.” Aegon mumbles. 

“What can I do to make it better?” Baelors voice is soft as he tries to coax his brother to sit up and look at him. 

“Stay.” Aegon hates how broken he sounds as he continues to cling to him. 

“Of course I’ll stay.” Baelor wraps his arms around him tighter. 

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Aegon stumbles up the stairs from the wine cellar and looks around. Giggles and hiccups spill from his mouth as he starts in the direction of Baelor. He waves off the people in the hallway as his hands brush against the stone to steady himself. He smiles widely when he makes it to the correct door. 

“He said he doesn’t want to be disturbed, my prince.” Baelors guard places a hand on Aegons shoulder as he tries to push in. 

“I don’t care. Leave us.” Aegon shoves past the guard and slams the door behind him. 

“What are you doing?” Baelor groans annoyed putting his books down. He watches Aegon stumble over to him with furrowed brows and flushed cheeks. He stops in a huff in front of him and Baelor smiles up at him. 

“Saving you from being so boring, brother.” Aegon snaps the book shut and Baelor rises out of annoyance at losing his place. 

“Reading could do you well.” Baelor looks over Aegons drink lulled state. “Better than your cups.” he huffs opening his book up once more. He doesn’t mean for his words to come out so harshly.

“Mm, will you hate me now too?” Aegon chuckles draping across Baelors back.

“I could never.” Baelor relents brushing his fingers against one of Aegons arms. He knows he shouldn’t but he loves when Aegon is drunk and needy.

“Are you sure?” Aegons warm breath fans across Baelors neck. He loves to tease Baelor and watch his cheeks flush. 

“I’m sure.” Baelor leans back into him and Aegon chuckles against his neck. Aegon darts his tongue across Baelors neck and he groans. “What do you need, Aegon?” 

“Attention.” Aegon whines into his neck. 

“Let me finish my studies first.” Baelor steadies his voice. 

“No. Now.” Aegon bites down on Baelors neck and he groans gripping the table. 

“I will be done soon. Just go lay on the bed.” Baelor stands and turns. “And drink some water.” he looks over Aegon who is trying to press himself against Baelor. 

“What do I get if I listen?” Aegon smirks watching Baelor blush. 

“You’ll have to wait and find out.” Baelor nods him to the bed before he turns back to his book. Aegon groans dragging his feet to the bed. He sprawls out looking to Baelor who is paying him no mind. Aegon sighs out loudly again and Baelor bites his lip trying to stifle his laugh. 

“Seriously?” Aegon pouts from the bed trying to get Baelor to turn around. 

“Keep yourself entertained.” Baelor tosses back to Aegon and he groans burying his head in the pillows. He holds against a pillow and inhales deeply. He hugs it to him and lets the smell of Baelor take over his senses. He starts to let his mind drift as he cuddles into the pillows and blankets. 

Baelor peeks over his shoulder and smiles happily as he sees Aegon curled up in his bed. He turns back to his book content to know that Aegon is safe and accounted for. He spends the next hour finishing up his studies before he joins Aegon in bed. Baelor closes his book and adds it back to the tower before he walks silently over to the bed. He smiles seeing his brother so peaceful for once. He curls his body around Aegons and holds him as he falls asleep with him. 

“Wake up.” Aegon pouts into Baelors neck as he slowly starts to stir. 

“You fell asleep first.” Baelor groans holding Aegon against him. 

“I don’t care.” Aegon places kisses across Baelors neck. Baelor sighs tilting his head wanting to give him more access. 

“I didn’t want to wake you. You were so content.” Baelor hums as Aegon trails his hands around his chest. 

“I think I would also be content with my cock in your hand.” Aegon grinds against Baelor. 

“Must you always talk like that?” Baelor grunts bucking up and flipping them over. No matter how many times they tumble in each other’s bed Baelor never gets used to Aegons dirty mouth. 

“Then make me be quiet.” Aegon taunts and Baelor smashes their lips together. Aegon melts into the kiss and pulls Baelor down closer to him. 

“You sound so needy.” Baelor pushes his chest down to the bed. “Kiss me. Pay attention to me. Squeeze my cock.” Aegon whimpers at Baelors mocking tone. 

“Baelor please,” Aegon bucks his hips up and Baelor shakes his head. 

“Exactly my point.” he chuckles against Aegons mouth. He pulls the laces of Aegons trousers loose and pushes his hand in. Baelor wraps his hand around Aegons length and swipes his thumb across his leaking tip. “Tell me how it feels.” Baelors words a command not a question and Aegons eyes screw shut. 

“Start moving your hand.” Aegon jerks his hips into Baelors hands and he chuckles. Baelor squeezes around his tip and Aegon lets out a strangled cry. Baelors deft fingers collect his precome and slides it down Aegons throbbing shaft. “Fuck, Baelor,” he jerks his hips up. 

“Always so desperate.” Baelor chuckles against Aegons lips before he encases them. Baelor loves the way Aegon pours everything into him as he squirms beneath him. Aegon shivers under Baelors touch as he starts to move his hand faster. Baelor bites down on Aegons lip how he knows he likes and Aegon gasps jerking beneath him. 

“Baelor, please,” Aegon whines while Baelor starts to pump him quickly. His stomach tightens and Baelor squeezes his fingers tighter around him and he starts to burst across Baelors hand. “Fuck, please,” Aegon trembles beneath him as Baelors hand starts to slow. 

“Now go back to bed.” Baelor mumbles against Aegons mouth. 

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Alicent looks to the ceiling as she tries to collect her thoughts. She never understood what she did to deserve a son like Aegon. No amount of help or yelling will change him and she’s given up on him. 

“Why can’t you be more like Baelor?” Alicent sighs to Aegon as she shakes her head. Baelor could never be replaced by any of her children. He was hers and hers alone.

“No one will ever live up to your perfect Baelor.” Aegons voice cracks. “I will never be what you want. You’ll never love me.” his eyes slide to Alicents and she looks at him as if she would like to be anywhere else. 

“Gods know I tried Aegon. You’re impossible.” she looks him over before storming out of his chambers. A sob tears through him once he’s alone and he buries his head in his hands. Aegon grabs the closest glass near him and shatters it against the wall. 

“Aegon,” Baelors voice alights Aegons anger anew. 

“Perfect fucking Baelor. Mothers favorite. Mother’s only son.” Aegon spits the words to his twin. “What do you want?” he fists Baelors tunic.

“To make you feel better.” Baelor keeps his voice small. He tries not to look at Aegon with sadness but he knows he’s failing at the way Aegons nostrils flare. 

“So you pity me.” Aegon confirms shaking his head and turning. “I don’t want your fucking pity. Stop looking at me like I’m broken.” he berates himself as his voice cracks. “I can make you hate me too.” Aegon pushes Baelor face first onto the bed and Baelor looks over his shoulder. 

“Do whatever you need to. I could never hate you.” Baelor searches Aegons eyes. He nods his head softly and Aegon just pushes his head back into the pillows as he hovers above him. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” Aegon grits through his teeth. 

“I love you, Aegon.” Baelor mumbles against the pillow. He feels Aegons fingers grip against his hip roughly. 

“Stop.” he brings his other hand to push Baelors head further into the bed. “Stop lying.” Aegons mind feels like it’s breaking and he loses it the second he feels tears fall down his cheeks. 

“I hate you.” Aegon sobs and Baelor tries to turn his head to look at his twin. “I fucking hate you, Baelor.” he pushes Baelors head down before releasing it and harshly pulling down his trousers. Baelor gasps biting his lip as Aegon pulls his trousers the rest of the way off. Aegon pushes off of the bed grabbing the oil from his table and pours it generously on Baelors hole. He watches it drip down with heavy lids as Baelor moans into the pillow. 

“Be quiet.” Aegon growls pushing a single finger in. Baelors eyes close as he relaxes around his finger as he starts to pump it. Aegon trickles more oil as he slips in a second and Baelor sighs pushing back. Aegon slides his other hand between Baelors legs and slides his oiled hand down his hardened length. 

“Aegon,” Baelors voice is wrecked as Aegon showers him with pleasure. Baelor doesn’t know whether to stay quiet or show Aegon how good he’s doing. Aegon pushes in a third finger pumping quickly as he squeezes around Baelors tip. “Fuck me,” the words spill out of Baelors mouth and Aegon removes his hands from Baelor leaving him arched and needing. 

“I said be quiet.” Aegon grunts pushing into Baelor. Aegon groans as he settles slowly grinding his hips. Baelors breath is knocked from his lungs and his arms collapse into the bed. Aegon starts to push into him harshly and Baelors knees threaten to give out. 

“Aegon,” the name slips from Baelors mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll send you out of my chambers as you are now.” Aegon snaps his hips into Baelor. “Cock leaking and fucked out. Wonder what mother would think of her perfect boy then?” he chuckles and Baelor fists the sheets around him. Aegons hand travels around Baelors front and squeezes against Baelors wanting length. Baelor explodes in his hand with his head buried in the pillow. Baelor has tears pricking at his eyes as Aegon continues to push into him.

“Now just lay here and take it.” Aegon releases Baelors length and grips at his hips instead. He hammers into Baelor chasing his own high as he curses lowly. Aegon pushes into Baelor particularly roughly and fills Baelor who lets out soft whimpers. He pulls out quickly and stands up. “Leave.” Aegon starts to pull his pants back on.

“No.” Baelor shifts and looks up to Aegon. He reaches up and pulls Aegon back to the bed and Aegon turns to him with a scrunched brow. “I’m staying.” 

“Why?” Baelor knows Aegon knows the answer but he’s happy to indulge him anyway. 

“Because I love you.” Aegons nostrils flare at Baelors words. 

“No you don’t.” Aegon goes to get up.

“I do.” Baelor pulls him back harshly and Aegon lands with a thud. 

“Do not lie.” Aegon turns to Baelor with glassy eyes. 

“I’m not. I love you.” Baelor pulls Aegon into his embrace and Aegon absolutely breaks down in his arms. “Shh, you’re okay.” Baelor holds Aegon tightly as he rubs his back soothingly. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

mans looks right w black hair too 🧎🏼‍♀️

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

If Nettles was white, she would be as popular as Lyanna, Brienne or Arya, and y’all know it.

She grew up a homeless orphan (which is why it’s so insulting when people try to act like she’s a freaking idiot who doesn’t know how to bathe herself yet she can tame a dragon🤦🏽‍♀️ Put most of the highborn women in her position and they wouldn’t survive a day in her shoes).

She’s the only known non-Valyrian dragonrider who claims a wild dragon. A prince who believes in Valyrian supremacy falls in love with her to the point where he’s willing to sacrifice his life for her. Nettles singlehandedly disproves the whole idea of Targaryen exceptionalism and their blood purity. She slowly earns a dragon’s trust by bringing him sheep, and gradually he lets her closer, and then forms the dragonrider bond and lets her fly. up until this point, nobody had tried a strategy like that before.

Nettles is self-made. She’s self-taught. She’s loved for herself. She survives a freaking war and becomes a fire goddess/witch. Who wouldn’t want her ? Who wouldn’t want to be her ? Unlike Rhaenyra and Alicent, she’s the final girl of F&B.

Once again, I don't understand where you got that I'm anti Nettles? I'm anti Nettles x Daemon, but other than that theory, I very much am a fan of Nettles as a character. I won't say that there isn't racism and unfairness that happen regarding Nettles' character (though I haven't seen it personally), because people can be really shitty. But me personally, again, I'm not anti Nettles, I just dislike certain groups of her stans.

Again, I don't deny that Nettles was a strong woman. She endured many things most characters in F&B don't and most likely survived the Dance. However, I do disagree with some of the ideas you're stating as fact.

For starters, we don't know if Nettles is non-Valyrian; that's one of the many theories surrounding her, but it's not confirmed, so stating it as fact is misleading. Just because she lacks traditional Valyrian features doesn't means she isn't a dragonseed.

Jace and his brothers don't look Valyrian but they very obviously are of Valyrian descent. Rhaenys, the queen who never was, had black hair; Duncan the son of Aegon V looked like his mother, Betha Blackwood; Aegor Rivers also had black hair; Baelor Breakspear had dark hair; Daeron son of Maekar had sandy brown hair; Rhaenys the daughter of Rhaegar had her mother, Elia Martell's features.

Moving on, Daemon's relationship with Nettles is ambiguous. We don't know if they were in a romantic relationship or if his attack on Aemond was purely to save her (though I'm sure that was part of his decision). Again, you are stating a theory you believe as fact, even though it's unconfirmed.

I'm not going to touch the whole thing of Targaryen exceptionalism, because, as I said earlier, Nettles' parentage is unconfirmed. But the whole blood purity thing still hasn't been disproven at any point of GRRM's works; they intermarried to preserve their magic blood, the magic blood still exists in ASOIAF due to the incest.

Nettles is an important character in the story of the Dance, but she isn't the "final girl" you claim she is, let alone of the whole book. There are several dragon riders who survived the Dance and thrived. Rhaena is the ancestor of the Tyrells in the main series. Aegon III is the ancestor of Daenerys, the Baratheons, any remaining Blackfyres, and possibly Jon Snow and Young Griff. Baela and Alyn are the ancestors of Aurane Waters and the Velaryons.

The book of F&B is so much more than the Dance of the Dragons. Saying that Nettles is the "final girl" of the book doesn't make any sense when she only appears in a few sections. That's like saying Alys Rivers is actually the main character of the book. Nettles disappears after the Dance and doesn't appear in any other event. She does nothing else after her disappearance and has relatively little impact on the history of Westeros post Dance.

I have absolutely no idea where you're getting the whole "fire goddess/witch" thing. However, you have already been throwing out theories and your personal biases as fact, so I don't think it matters. I'm not trying to control who your fav is, I totally understand wanting to be a certain book character. But that doesn't mean you can act like everyone else is wrong for not having the same fav as you.

It's that kind of entitlement, thinking you're better than everyone else that makes people not like Nettles stans. It's almost on par with stansas and Alicent stans. People like you project so hard onto your favs, you take any perceived insult, critique, or argument as a personal attack. It's exhausting interacting with people like you.

[alannybunnue]

Ok, We Made History: Westeros x Demigod!Reader

Yes, i am already making the masterlist, since i already can see that this is gonna be a long one with many different eras of the story.

So let's anticipate the chaos

〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓

The reader, Daughter of the Drowned God

The Eras and their Myths

Her pet

Her titles

The Iron Throne Curse

How the Faith views this situation and The Pretenders (The Pretenders Part 2)

Meera The Pretender (her ending fate)

Her Favorites

Elenei, her oldest sister

Her people and the origins of her trust

Aegon's Conquest:

The Beginning

Her first encounter with the Dragons

Harren Hoare and Argilac Durrandon

The Storm God true motives and the beginning of a war

She is taken by the Sky

Dance of the Dragons

She was tricked

Who stole her?

Daemon and the necklace

Blackfyre Rebellion

Aegon IV causes a war for the Demigoddess

The great bastards fighting for the reader

She runs away with Shiera Seastar

Robert's Rebellion

Rhaegar using Lyanna to supress his feelings for the Demigoddess

Rhaegar tries to run with the Demigoddess

Her betrothed shall take her away

She saved Elia Martell

Game of thrones

Reader leaves the Iron Islands to live in Winterfell with Theon. (First concept of it)

The Demigoddess adopted Theon

Unspecific Eras:

Maegor fucked up real bad and now Westeros is paying for it

Aerea Targaryen used as a message from the Drowned god

Baelor the Blessed and the Demigoddess

Shiera and the Drowned God became besties

〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓〓

A/N: That's mostly it, i hope i didn't forgot any major Era, if i did, hit me with a rock, will ya?

[untilmynextstory]

Elia Week 2024 Day 3: Elia + Her Nieces/Nephews, Princess ("Queen") x Knight I took a bit of liberties with this prompt. AO3

Today should be a joyous day for her family - the Realm. Yet Elia wanted to scream and cry. She wanted further away from the Red Keep - King’s Landing. She wished she would have married Baelor Hightower, and this day may have never come to fruition. Maybe everything that had happened in the past 20 years wouldn’t have happened. 

All she could do was watch in grief and mourn the life her nephew would never get to live as his uncle placed a white cloak around his shoulders. 

Elias Martell was born five years after the Battle of the Trident. 

His birth was sudden and took everyone by surprise. It was the first birth Elia had witnessed of her brothers' children. 

Elia tried not to have favorites. She loved her children, nieces, and nephews equally. However, Elias was dear to her heart. She liked to think it was because he was her namesake. 

King’s Landing was a city that had always felt isolated, even before the Tourney of Harrenhal, the disappearance of Rhaegar, and the death of Aerys. 

If Elia had felt out of place as a Dornish Princess, being a Dornish Queen paled in comparison, primarily when she had been forced to inherit a crumbling dynasty. 

She knew she would never be accepted at court because she was Dornish. No matter what good she tried to do for the city, realm, and her children; it wasn’t enough to wash away the rumors and pity her husband had cloaked her in from his actions. 

No one would forget how Rhaegar had caused half of the realm to be widows and orphans, especially not when there was a live reminder living in court. 

However, she watched as most of the nobles conveniently forgot their King's actions if it made them closer to that wretched throne. 

Her brown eyes watched in disinterest as her husband worked the floor. She knew later that she would have to hear him complain about the politicking he still had to do as King. There had been a time she had enjoyed the complaints, but now it seemed she had to suffer for her husband as he held on to a relic of their fractured past. 

And she knew they were now having such a celebration because of who the new Kingsguard was. Yet, she found nothing joyous about her nephew taking these vows. 

She didn’t care he would be protecting her son - the future king - nor that he had been taught under the guidance of his father and uncles. 

She wanted anyone with a drop of Martell or Dornish blood to be far away from a place like King’s Landing. But ambition had cursed her blood. 

She had been surprised when Oberyn and Cersei had one child. The second one she felt was more for the duty of always having a spare for the heir. However, in the third pregnancy, she knew it was a decision between Oberyn and Cersei. She had been shocked to see the two seemed to get along for the most part. Yet, a part of her wondered if this was also a way for her brother not to let her husband get one over on him. 

She knew she and Cersei would never be more than cordial, but for her brother, who had no desire to be married, she was glad to see him in a stable marriage. It is stable enough for people with such stubborn personalities. 

Elias was born during her first visit to Dorne. She hadn’t been able to visit her homeland since the Rebellion. Finally, after five years, she was trusted to sink her feet into the white sand covering her home's coastline since Rhaegar had become King. 

Although her youngest nephew was so small, he had tiny, powerful lungs, and his birth made her long for another one of her own. 

But most of all, she remembered his wide doe eyes looking up at her, and she swore he smiled at her. 

The only place that ever seemed to provide some sort of peace in King’s Landing was the godswood. Somehow, it remained untouched by the plots and webs of deceit that curled around the throne. 

It was where her nephew had found her. He wasn’t in his armor yet. He was clad in Dorne's traditional wardrobe. Tomorrow, his duties would truly begin. Gone were oranges, yellows, reds. Soon, it would all be white with the hope his cloak would never stain red. 

“Aunt!” 

“Nephew,” she greeted. “Or should I say Ser Elias, now?”

His golden eyes were lit with jubilation. She would assume he had been in his cups, but she knew her nephew didn’t like to indulge in drinks. However, as his father, they carried a carefree demeanor. Despite their charismatic characteristics, one would never estimate a viper of Dorne.

“I’ll always be your nephew, Aunt.” His smile was wide and genuine. When he smiled, she could see Aegon in there. Aegon had most if not all of his father’s features, yet sometimes an expression, his smile, and his demeanor were that of the Martell blood. She had Rhaenys in her image, and her husband had Aegon.

“Are you sure you want this?” She knew Cersei and Jaime were proud of Elias wanting to join the Kingsguard. Oberyn was proud of his son’s accomplishment, but she knew he held the same feelings towards King’s Landing that she had. 

“You know there isn’t much out there for being a 3rd son.” Her nephew replied as he walked closer to the oak that was a crude imitation of a heart tree. 

“Still, these vows are for life; why would you want to be chained to a King…”

“Saying Aegon won’t make a fine King?”

She glared at her nephew, but it softened as she saw his teasing smile. She believed half of why he joined the Kingsguard was to remind her husband of how Dorne viewed him. 

“Aegon’s reign will only be peaceful because of you,” Elias added softly. “The only thing he seems to have inherited from his father is that damned silver hair and purple eyes.”

Elia chose to ignore the distaste Elias had expressed for her husband. “You could have a seat at his council versus this.” Elias could excel as Master of Coin. He would still be allowed more freedom to move around the realm. 

Her nephew gave her a sad smile. “Maybe, but I could be dismissed at any time on a council. I want you to be happy for me, Aunt, for I want this.”

Elia wanted to be happy. She did. Most would be proud and boast of an accomplishment like this. “Why do you want this?”

The wind displaced the leaves around them. Elias sighed and knocked his knuckles against the tree. 

Her nephew's voice was cold. He sounded like her brother when he could contain the poison of anger and rage within him. “He left her with three Kingsguard, and you only had my uncle.”

Elia sighed. It always went back to that. 

The birth of her nephew made Elia yearn a new babe of her own. As much as she cared for Daenerys as her own, and even for her own bruised pride and worth, the little Jon, they served as constant reminders that she couldn’t do her one duty in giving her husband more heirs. 

It was why her husband's eyes had wandered to the Winter Rose and the realm paid for it in blood. 

She wondered if what the Maester said was true. 

Now, she had time to regain her strength, and her body had time to recover from birth. Yet, any desire waned at the thought of sharing a bed with her husband. 

Besides, she didn’t want to give Rhaegar any hope that she held any fondness for him outside of him being the man who had the privilege to get her with two marvelous children. 

When she arrived at King’s Landing, she hoped some bitterness had subsided. Holding on to so much anger and resentment was exhausting most days. It was a bitter drink she couldn’t keep drinking. Yet, when Rhaegar greeted her with his trusted shield, Arthur Dayne, at his side, she had looked for little Jon. 

But she remembered how downtrodden Jon had been when she had been preparing to leave with Rhaenys and Aegon. She knew Doran and Oberyn had no ill-will with the small child, only the father. Yet, she didn’t want to flare some of her Dornishmen’s short tempers. 

Rhaegar was attentive to Rhaenys. He was already grooming their son for the throne. Jon only got scraps of his affections. She could never tell if it was because of regret, the love or lack of love he held for the boy’s mother, or the fact he wasn’t the prophesied Visenya. Jon was the reminder of his hubris. 

It reminded her that her husband could be cruel, like his father. 

“My dear nephew,” she cupped her nephew’s cheek. As a young girl, she fantasized about a robust and valiant knight becoming her protector. It took her a while, but the vows of knights didn’t change anything regarding a man, and they were men like the rest of them. The vows were only a shield of their cruelty. 

How could she tell her nephew that as soon as she married Rhaegar, she had lost any sort of protection that Dorne could and had provided?

When Rhaegar’s seed had quickened, she perpetually flirted with the Stranger.  Having a knight in fancy armor and a quick hand with steel didn’t change the fact. 

It wasn’t a shield she needed from fists and words. 

No man could shield her from the wounds of her heart. 

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Are you okay and confortable with writing for Baelor Breakspear? I read the Hedge Knight comic yesterday and OMG Baelor is so 😩😩😩😩😩 and he is sitting like he knows he is fine 😭

Sun dragon prince of goodness and duty

Baelor Targaryen (son of Daeron the II) x fem!reader

warning : kissing, injury/comfort, mention of brutality during a tournament, alcohol

Summary : The heir to the throne of the realm finds himself at a tournament at Ashford Meadow not only to set things right and fulfill his duty, but also to reunite with a certain innkeeper and puppeteer whose paths had crossed on a few occasions for reasons of devotion and duty.

info : Ahhh i am so happy about the request dear anon ( not only more for the Targaryen Tuesday) also so happy and yes Baelor is one of the few really sincerely good ,,sexy" knights and men in asoiaf. So have fun here and all the others as well ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The year two hundred and nine after Aeon's conquest, a year in which the empire once seemed peaceful. Peaceful for King Daeron the Second and his heir to the throne, his first son Baelor, named after his great grandfather's cousin.

Even if he had nothing in common with him, except perhaps the name and his goodness, they were all the more different in appearance. The blood of the dragon mingled with the sun and the strong spear of Dorne. A sun dragon.

A prince with the blood of two strong houses, former enemies and yet there were always whispers of enemies. A Targaryen without Targaryen appearances could ever be an heir to the throne.

There were always whispers but the realm loved its heir a man of middle age handsome to the ladies of the realm, a man of honor to the lords, kind to those who needed help and the common people and with duties and honors he took seriously.

Like the dragon himself, he was dangerous to those who threatened his family but gentle to his friends and his people. But in this year after the conquest a tournament of the house Ashford took place a tournament to celebrate not only the birthday the thirteenth name day of the daughter of Lord Ashford and also to crown the queen of love and beauty.

The tournament was attended by candidates from other high and lesser houses as well as the princes of the realm. In black armor, dragons resembled mementos of their house symbol and the creatures they had once mounted to make the skies theirs. But the highborn princes Targaryen came riding into the tournament on horseback.

The dark eyes of the Targaryen, only a few years older, lay with joy on the people as they arrived, raising his hand to wave to his friends, the Houses and the people. ,,Everyone seems to be looking forward to the games," he said to his companions.

His lord and house heir friends who rode behind him agreed, friends from childhood and tournament participants with whom he had shared wine and bread.

,,Wretched only here for the bread," he heard the murmur of his nephew, his brother's son, and unfortunately also the bad one of this Targaryen whose coin seemed to choose madness.

The madness was slowly spreading and he had already tried several times to show him the right way but his nephew well he was a different dragon he was a Targaryen with light hair and deep violet eyes a being not of this world.

He rode a little closer to his relative and said in a calm voice, ,,Surely the high-born ladies are looking at you in awe of your stately armor, nephew," and looked a little surprised at first before seeing the satisfied grin and the prince rode ahead a little faster with his hand raised in greeting.

Another simple problem solved, however much the coin fell Baelor could make it spin a little further. But even though he enjoyed taking part in tournaments, enjoying the festivities and drinking and eating with his new and old friends, there was one thing in particular that he would visit during the tournament.

Of course after he had taken care of Lord Ashford and presented his daughter with a jewel of the crown, ,,Such bright eyes need a stone to match them my lady" said the heir to the throne and knelt down around the smaller girl who had red cheeks and a grin on her lips.

Everyone wished to be her, each of the women and maybe even a few other noble men. Baelor gently took the girl's hand and slowly put the necklace on her before he gave a consolation to the king in the name of his father and everyone joined in, even the two pairs of eyes standing far behind…the prince would come to them sooner or later.

,,Forgive me my lord and lady, I would like to take care of the people, they also have plans that I am happy to follow" the prince apologized and left the table of the elder, his dark eyes already fixed on the two stands on his way across the large grassy and sandy earthy square.

He watched the tall woman with the black hair as she skillfully made the little wooden knight move with her fingers while her partner steered the flying red kite above the doll. Still so talented he thought and a smirk came to his lips as he saw her brief reciprocating look of love and then her nod towards the tent next to the puppet theater.

Thanking her with a coin that landed lightly in the bowl, he went into the larger tent next to it, an open tavern with fresh bread, roast meat, soup and some fish from the river.

As he sat down at one of the tables, the greetings from those around him were not yet too warm, most of them were already waiting in the stands, but some wanted something to eat. ,,Have a wonderful day, my Prince Baelor… I hope the roast tasted good?" he heard a voice and from behind a flap she emerged, the traveling companion and friend of Tanselle, a woman as young as the puppeteer, her eyes captivating him, a body he had often loved and her lovely fingers playing with the light strands in his hair.

,,You too my hostess I will pay you again and again for such a good piece of meat you must make more…you could come to the royal kitchen?" he suggested with a grin when he saw her feigned excitement and joy, ,,Oh indeed my lord!" she exclaimed happily before she came closer to him and sat down at the table and they exchanged glances.

She could lose herself in his handsome eyes over and over again. Even if he didn't look like a Targaryen, he was the best dragon there ever was. Before they got closer there was a brief hesitation to see if anyone was there but the rest was gone, his rough big hands on her neck pulling her closer to him and her delicate hands holding onto him before they lost themselves in a kiss.

The smell of leather, sword and fire always surrounded the prince while he found the exotic spices and various ingredients on her, a sign of their travels.

Journeys on which she had sailed and ridden across Westeros and Essos with her partner. She always came back with new recipes and little things to share and Baelor loved to listen, finding it engaging and completely enchanting how devoted she was to her cause.

The little emotions in her eyes always watching her hands telling the stories and her sweet voice trying to echo the sounds and voices was absolutely incredible to him. ,,My heart belongs to you for this," he murmured as he detached himself and stroked the small book on her belt in which she recorded new ideas and thoughts - thoughts that had already made the prince blush like a virgin several times.

Words of the heir to the throne that made her blush and let her fingers wander absently through his dark hair with the overlooked white strands here and there. ,,For your good heart I am yours Baelor…besides, Tanselle senses when someone is as good as you and she stands up for that too," she replied and continued to play with the prince's crisp dark hair while his deep eyes lay on her, his heart beating calmly in tune with her breathing.

Despite the world out there beyond the tent, the tournament, the brutality, fighting and death, whenever they were together he seemed to be not only dutiful but also completely devoted to someone other than the throne and his father.

But as much as she loved him, she had always loved him after he had saved her from Aerion, who had disagreed with the food and the dolls' entertainment, his blow had knocked her to the ground, the armor had made her cheek bleed, and Tanselle had found one of her dolls broken.

Baelor had slapped his nephew back and stood up for her, replacing the doll for Tanselle and paying for it. But his kindness was for the woman in front of him, his fingers running over the small scar on her cheek, her head in his hand and the contented sound.

He was always gentle with her, even when he had brought her to his tent, cleaned her cheek with a damp cloth and personally applied the healing tincture. Her stammering words had ended with a kiss and it was no different now. It was a bittersweet reunion of a sun dragon and a traveling lady who always found each other with their hearts in their hands.

,,If only it could always be tournaments like this and you here without injury," she murmured as the noise outside increased and Lord Ashford's speech of thanks was probably delivered.

A sentence that made him laugh sadly and yet he slowly rose with a sigh, his arms wrapped around her soft body and he held her close in an intimate embrace as he kissed the top of her head, ,,Don't worry my love I haven't lost a tournament I won't lose anything today I'll be back with you soon" he said his hand caressing her cheek one last time and the look of uselessness disappeared from her eyes with a slow nod.

,,And I will wait as always my Prince Baelor" she curtsied and waved to him as he walked out of the tent not knowing that in this year two hundred and nine after Aegon's conquest their love would be put to a test greater and harder than any tournament they had ever been to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[lunarmoonanons]

Yandere Baelor Breakspear

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

Yandere Baelor Breakspear x Reader. Who is happy that he died so she is now finally free to return home to the Iron Isles. At least she hoped so.

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

Masterlist 

YN had been away from her home islands ever since she was 17. 

She was on the continent of Westeros with her father who was trading salt from his ship to merchants in Kingslanding, when she caught the eye of the Prince of Dragonstone. 

For him it was love at first sight. She was a beauty from the Iron Islands, strong and lovely, Baelor had decided she was to be his. 

With a swift order, her father was arrested on false claims and she was claimed as a prize for the prince. 

She fought hard against the guards that tried to pull her to the keep. Scratching and kicking, but they were larger than her and they dragged the girl to the rooms of the prince. 

As the first child of the king he had special privileges that allowed him what he wanted. He promised to give her what she wanted, but all the girl desired was to go home. 

YN did not get along with the people at the court. 

They thought her brash and cold, she thought them to be weak and frivolous. 

YN longed for the smell of the sea and the swaying of ships. 

No matter how many things Baelor tried to shower her with, she was still miserable around him. 

Eventually he grew not to care about her misery. As long as he held her he would be content. 

When the first blackfyre rebellion broke out and Baelor led the dornish and the stormlands force to battle he prayed to the gods for victory so that he may return to his precious islander. 

As he prayed for victory, YN prayed everyday to the drowned god for her freedom. For the death of her captor. 

Her captor had a habit of touching. Never seeming to respect her boundaries and always keeping a hand to the back of her neck in a threatening demeanor. 

He decided to take her to the tourney at Ashford as a “gift” for her. YN was happy to be out of the castle and in the open air. She wanted to soak up as much sun as possible, praying to the drowned god that her freedom would last. 

It seemed her prayers were answered that day, when she witnessed the death of her captor at the hands of his brother. 

With a blow to the head, the 39 year old prince fell to the ground and died. 

YN was frozen for a moment, her stomach fluttering with a strange feeling. But as the crowds gathered around the area she began to step back and slip away. 

Soon she found herself running, ripping the ends of her dress she ran faster and faster away from the tourney. 

It took months of bartering, working, and thievery, but she was finally finally able to make it back to the Iron Islands. Her mother was old, but still alive and still remembered her. 

For the last months of her mother’s life, YN was back home. She settled and was happy, even with the seed of Baelor growing in her womb. 

When her mother past, and her stomach grew swollen YN felt a peace grow over her. 

A peace that was interrupted one day by a knock on her door. 

Baelor was at her door.

[katshuya]

Many people like to say Elia and Arthur had something going on either

1-to justify Rhaegar x Lyanna

2-to give some joy to her story.

But honestly, how good can it be? I mean, ship what you want, but I'm talking about that if we imagined it to be a CANON thing, it wouldn't be pleasant due to the events surrounding the canon scenario.

Arthur abandoned her. You can't tell me that a love story with a man who abandons you to help your husband cheat is a great one even if you didn't like your husband. It is still unnerving for the woman.

Yes, I do wish his sad smile is out of guilt for what happened to Elia and her children but still in Jaime's fever dream it was only Rhaegar and Lewyn that talked about Elia and the children.

Arthur talked about killing the king.

I'm not saying this doesn't mean he didn't regret what happened to them. I'm saying it doesn't encourage the idea that there was anything between them. Which is what I want. Because this will be disgusting of GRRM to do to justify what has been done to her.

Elia went as a child on a tour to Starfall. Perhaps she could have been matched with Arthur, but most likely his older brother. Since she was the princess, it was only normal to look for the firstborn child who would become lord one day.

Whatever happened in Starfall didn't end up in any agreement since Elia's mother tried after that to match her with Jaime.

What we know is that in the end, Elia likes Baelor Hightower the most during that tour.

And why didn't Arthur just stay with Elia instead of becoming a kingsguard before her marriage if there was anything truly between them? It doesn't make sense. Are you telling me he abandoned her for kingsguard as tennagers? Or that he decided to fall in love with her after he became a kingsguard? Still no sense.

Also, I firmly believe and I could be wrong that Arthur's character will be that he was not the type to break his oath easily to love a woman. I have feeling he was a hardass. Jon Connington already hinted that. Besides, he was described as someone who took his vows seriously.

Again, I don't mind the shipping nor the fanfictions. Some fanarts are really cute, and I admit I read some and enjoyed it.

But in the CANON scenario, how much better was he than Rhaegar toward Elia? The best scenario would be that he wanted to return but couldn't because Rhaegar's place would be discovered in a case where Rhaegar only ran to save lyanna, then *accidentally* decided to take things further.

Besides, why would Rhaegar let Elia have a secret lover when he will be one day a king? This will affect him as a king in the eyes of the noble men. Why would Elia or Arthur risk that, too?

And even if they were star-crossed lovers that can only love each other from afar....doesn't the "my best friend is married to the woman I love and is having children with her one after another despite her delicate health but he is a good man who will take good care of her" sounds awful?

Why would Arthur be liked as a lover in the CANON scenario where he let Rhaegar harm Elia after using her to the point that she could die if she got pregnant again then he let Rhaegar humilate her again with Lyanna all so Rhaegar might agree that he can be with Elia???

He sounds too lame like this. Ok, grey, but extremely lame man and character. Too lame for that great swordman.

Yes, the characters are supposed to be grey, but honestly, how are we supposed to like something unlikable? Just because it's grey doesn't mean it's likable. Arthur isn't supposed to be a horrible man as far as I glimpsed.

I mean, Euron, for example, is supposed to be a horrible, cruel man, and we are supposed to like him as a horrible, cruel character.

But things like, Rhaegar is supposed to be likable as good grey character when he did certain things that normally for many humans they make him unlikable or R x L is supposed to be likable despite all the things of how they came to be. All feel unlikable because of the contradiction. It's not about greyness. They just don't match their intended purpose of view.

It's like the famous saying of "Daemon is so grey that he is between good and bad. And his morals are so grey"

Seriously, this guy has a very dark shade.

I'm not team black nor team green, so don't come to fight. I only observe the characters.

So what is there to be liked about this ship IN THE CANON scenario? Not in fanfictions where he actually returned or refused leaving her.

If there is anything I would like to know. Do tell me.

I prefer Arthur to be regretful about how he abandoned his princess and her children greyness. This seems more likable grey than lame Arthur, who left the woman he loves to Rhaegar's whims THEN abandoned her and her children alone for almost 2 years in danger to help her husband humiliate her further for prophecy and his not like other girls 15 years old girl, dark lame greyness. The previous makes Arthur more likable as character.

Again, I don't mind the ship as long as it is not Canon. Because it will be a disgusting way that shows Rhaegar as less guilty in the eyes of many just because she loved another, so he looks less accountable for abandoning them. When even in such a cringy scenario, he is not. Even if Elia loved another/didn't love him.

In conclusion, all of the above is why Arthur can not be used to justify R X L nor to make Elia's story better or less sad in the CANON events. And why it's not realistic and impossible that DORNISH Elia committed treason and very unlikely that she had even an emotional affair.

[samieree]

Born in Flames || Game of Thrones

OC x ?😏

-> Chapter XI "Why?"

Chaper XII ''Follow the vision of a better tomorrow''

Already quite calm, she sat down on the table on which there were cages with dragons sitting in them. She let them out and now they were walking around freely or hugging to her. They were her only companions in the room. She stroked them slowly, even though it would be hard for her to reach behind her back, and that's where Rhaegal was.

"We're left alone..." she said with a sigh. She lowered her head slightly, which Viserion immediately tried to raise, causing a soft smile to appear on her face. "I'm afraid... I don't know if I can do it, she could definitely do it." she said this, thinking about Daenerys' plan to gain an army of the Unsullied. "What if it doesn't work out? What if they kill us, not we them? What if I can't get people to follow me?" she looked at Drogon, who was having fun with Maelia, they pushing themselves on Visenya's hand and arm. What if the dragon doesn't listen to her? There was no contingency plan.

She sat there for some time, considering the many unknowns. She wondered if she could be a charismatic leader that people would want to follow, a person they could trust to lead them to a better world.

Maybe they shouldn't just follow her?

"Maybe I can convince them to the goal? So that they don't fight just for me, but for the goal I want to achieve? A goal that should also be important to them?" she asked, even though she knew she wouldn't get any answer. "And how did you come to be in the basements of the Red Keep?" she tilted her head to get a better look at Maelia, who was currently hanging under her arm. The creature looked at her and tilted its head as well. "Is this also the work of this... Christer Renel? Who is he exactly? Why did Selaria never want to tell me anything about her brother..."

The man who took the letter from her in the Sept of Baelor was a mystery to her - and would probably remain forever, no matter how much she wanted to discover his secrets. All she knew was that he was the brother of her former maid and he was... Very specific. And that he supposedly saved her life. How? Why?

Selaria, why didn't you say anything about him? What were you hiding from me?

"Tomorrow is a big day..." she sighed again. "That you can't assure me that everything will be fine..." she wanted to say something more, but she heard someone open the door and then close it quickly. She turned her gaze to them. "You can come in."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace... I wasn't eavesdropping." it turned out to be Missandei. A woman that Daenerys also took as part of her deal with Kraznys.

When Visenya went to assure Kraznys that the deal could still go through, Missandei then asked her what she plans to do with her.

She wouldn't have the heart to leave her or send her somewhere, unless the girl herself wanted to go somewhere, explore the world or settle down and live a quiet life. However, Missandei had no such plans, so she decided to travel with Vis.

It was obvious that she didn't feel comfortable around her yet and hadn't had time to get used to the fact that she was no longer a slave, that Kraznys was no longer standing next to her, scolding her for the slightest slip-up and probably doing much worse things.

"I didn't accuse you of anything. Come in."

Visenya wanted them to be friends. It was obvious that she was missing close people in her life, people with whom she could talk about everything or confide. From the outside, it could also look like that, due to lack of self-confidence, she was looking for recognition from others, as if it would drive her to act. It was as if she couldn't believe in her own strength until someone else believed in her.

She promised herself that she would be strong. She must keep this promise at all costs.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Your Grace."

"Call me Visenya or Vis, whichever you prefer." she replied quickly to get off the subject of Daenerys. She didn't want to think about it, didn't want to sink into despair again when there was no time for it and it was pointless. "You're from Naath... What's it like there?" she asked, nodding to her to sit on the table as well, at the same time trying to get the dragons off her and back into their cages.

"Honestly, I don't remember much, I was very young when I was taken into slavery." she admitted, sitting down on the table. "I remember that there are beautiful beaches with white sand and the days are usually sunny. There are no marriages on Naath, so there are no problems with bastards."

This last thing particularly surprised Visenya. As a person raised in Westeros, she was used to the fact that only legitimate children have the right to inherit from their parents. Bastards have no right to anything, not even a surname - they are called depending on the region in which they live. Well, unless there is legitimization, then the bastard is treated the same as a legitimate child.

In Dorne they approach the matter a bit differently, where bastards are the fruits of love and passion, they do not despise them. After all, even her uncle Oberyn - the prince of Dorne - has a bastard daughters. She's never seen them, but she's heard about them.

All in all, Visenya missed her uncle a bit... She had only seen him a few times, but she liked him. She especially liked hearing stories about his adventures in life or when he told her about history.

"Just one look at those beautiful, long, silver locks... It's not every day a man gets to ride a dragon."

What would her life have been like if Tywin Lannister had returned her to where she belonged, to her family, to Dorne?

"I must visit this island one day."

"Better not, Your- Visenya." she corrected herself quickly. "Those arriving on the island contract butterfly fever and, unfortunately, die. Only locals are immune."

"Wouldn't you like to go back there?" Vis asked with obvious curiosity in her voice.

"There is no one to return to. If I can be of some use, I want to, I want to help."

Vis smiled gently and nodded. She understood the phrase "there is no one to return to" all too well. She herself felt that there was no home anywhere. Here she is a stranger, in Westeros she is unwanted. In Essos it may be easier, here they can get to know her, she has a chance to show her good side, but on the other side of the sea? People have their opinions, and it's hard to tear off the patch once it's sewn on.

How to change a world that doesn't want you in its doors?

She didn't even want to think about what would happen if she ever managed to return to the Seven Kingdoms and what - and who - she would have to face.

"You are an interpreter... How many languages ​​do you know?" she asked, again out of curiosity.

"Nineteen."

"Nineteen?" she had never met anyone who spoke so many languages. The nobles in Westeros paid at most for Valyrian lessons for their children, and even that was very rare. She herself learned from some old books that Selaria brought her. Honestly? She was a little afraid to speak Valyrian, afraid that it would turn out that she couldn't pronounce words or put sentences together correctly. "How can someone know so many languages?"

"I had a lot of time to study." Missandei admitted. "Do you know any language other than the common one?"

"We'll see soon."

* * *

Her heart was beating as fast as it had probably never did before, as she stood facing all the Unsullied in Astapor and bent down a little to pick up a stick with a chain attached to it, the other end of which was locked around Maelia's paw.

They were those faceless soldiers from her dream. Just like when she had looked at them in her dream, she felt sorry for them now. Trained to obey all orders of their owner.

The white dragon stepped out of its cage and rose into the air as far as its chain would allow. Its scales turned iridescent blue in the sunlight, much to the delight of the gathered masters, especially Kraznys. She could see in his eyes that he couldn't wait to get his hands on the chained dragon.

She will never be a slave, neither of them will be. These... Children, they will never live the life I lived, ever.

She came within a step of Kraznys.

"Give me the whip first." she said, which Missandei quickly translated.

"Aspo pendagon, iksan jāre naejot rob zirȳla..." she didn't translate it, because the man quickly extended his whip towards Visenya.

*"The bitch thinks I'm going to rob her."*

Reluctantly, she reached out and grabbed the whip, then immediately stretched out her other hand to Kraznys, in which she was holding a dragon on a chain. He grabbed it very firmly, almost yanking it away from her, and a ghost of a smile quickly crossed his face.

Such people never have enough...

I won't be like that.

"It's all? Are they mine?"

"Ivestragon bona doru-borto līve ziry ōregon iā qilōny."

*"Tell that stupid whore she's holding a whip."*

"Yes, that's all, Your Grace. You hold the whip, they belong to you." it was a really delicate translation, but she couldn't blame her.

She slowly turned to the Unsullied, casting a slightly sad look at the dragon, who was already thrashing a bit on the chain, making sounds as if it was screaming for its... mother? Could she call herself like that?

Eight thousand soldiers stood before her, waiting for orders. What should she tell them? Was she supposed to immediately order them to get rid of all the masters and men holding whips? Will they really listen to her?

Her Valyrian is good enough that she understood all of Kraznys' words and the masters' conversations, but can she speak with the right accent?

"Dovaogēdy!" she shouted so that everyone could hear her. Immediately everyone assumed the adequate posture. She didn't see it, but Missandei looked in her direction, surprised to hear the word spoken almost pure in Valyrian. Suddenly, Visenya's words that it remained to be seen whether she knew any other language made sense. "Naejot memēbagon!" these types of commands are given to the soldiers, right? "Go forward", "Stop"?

She couldn't see it, but Kraznys was having more and more trouble controlling the dragon. He didn't even notice that Visenya was giving orders to the Unsullied without the help of Missandei.

"Keligon!" just as everyone started at the same moment, they also stopped at the same time.

"Ivestragon se aspo zirȳla dynī  ȳdra daor māzigon." Kraznys said, but she didn't pay attention to him. It's now or never, now that she's found the courage to be here, she has put this to an end. She must order them to kill all the masters, all with whips. "Iksan alking naejot ao, ao līve!"  of course Missandei translated everything, even though she had already guessed that Visenya knew Valyrian and didn't need any translations.

*"Tell that bitch her beast don't listen to me."*

*"I'm talking to you, you whore!"*

"Dovaogēdy!" she shouted again, then took a deep breath and looked at the whip in her hands. The whip, which she immediately dropped to the ground. Now Kraznys was looking at her. He looked at her as if he just realized that she was not only stupid, but also deaf. But no... Visenya needed that moment to gather herself, to order to kill someone for the first time.

This won't be the first time someone dies because of me.

And this time really bad people will die, I'm doing the right thing, I know that.

For the world.

"Ossēnagon se āeksia, ossēnagon se mentyr, ossēnagon tolvie vala qilōni ōregon iā qilōny! Yn ȳdra daor ōdrikagon mirre riña se mirre buzdari, yn ossēnagon se belma hen tolvie buzdari kesā ūndegon!" she said in a rather uncertain voice at first, but it gained strength with each word. She finished, speaking with real confidence.

*"Kill all the masters, kill all their soldiers and anyone holding a whip. But do not harm any child or slave, instead destroy the chains of every slave you see."*

At first she thought that they would not listen to her, that they would remain faithful to their tormentors, but no. She flinched when she saw the first of the whip-wielding men die, but each subsequent one didn't make the same impression on her.

She never had power, now she has it. Eight thousand people obeyed her order and intended to carry it out scrupulously.

"Ao ȳdragon Valyrīha, ao aspo?!" Kraznys shouted in panic.

*"You speak Valyrian, you bitch?!"*

"Valyrio muño ēngos ñuhys issa, hae iksan se ānogar hen uēpa Valyria. Iksan Visenya hen Targārien Lentor, drēje dārilaros naejot se dēmalion hen Westeros se zaldrīzes's tala. Iksi daor buzdari." she said confidently, even with a slight smile on her face.

*"Valyrian is my mother tongue, as I am the blood of Old Valyria. I am Visenya of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the throne of Westeros and daughter of dragons. We are not slaves."

It was the first time she truly believed she was born to rule. No... Not just for that, for something more. She survived for a reason. Perhaps this reason is something more than just taking the Iron Throne?

She heard the sounds of people being killed and swords being drawn. She also heard Kraznys shouting for someone to kill her to end this madness. Her gaze then moved to the snow-white dragon, who also looked at her. It only waited for one word from her.

"Dracarys."  thus Kraznys was soon bathed in the glow of bright flames, accompanied by his own screams.

Just a dozen or so minutes were enough, and there was only sand floating everywhere, some of the large houses and city walls were destroyed by fire and silence reigned. A light breeze stirred the sand suspended in the air until Visenya had to squint to see the Unsullied positioned outside the city gates. Were they waiting for her?

After all, they are free too.

"I didn't know you spoke Valyrian." she heard ser Arthur next to her, who had previously been afraid - as it later turned out, quite unnecessarily - that one of the soldiers might attack her.

"You'll see that I'm full of surprises." she replied, with a tone that had rarely appeared in her words before. It was obvious that she became more confident. Although she had one more speech waiting for her, with which she had to convince them to follow her by choice and not by feeling forced.

She brushed some sand from her dark red outfit and hair as she stepped out through the ruined city gates. When she entered the formations of soldiers, she felt like she was in that dream, but she knew that now everything was happening in reality. And she only has one chance.

"Dovaogēdy! Pār īlē riñar, īlē buzdari! Sir bisa jēda mōris, ao sagon dāez sir! Aōha glaesagon iksis mērī aōhon, ao iderēbagon skorkydoso naejot glaesagon ziry! Kostā jikagon se daorys kessa keligon ao iā ōdrikagon ao, iā kostā umbagon! Lo ao iderēbagon naejot jikagon oltorī nyke ao daor oltorī mērī nyke, yn ñuha visīda syt se vys! Vys mijegon buzdari se āeksia, kesīr se tolī va se tolie paktot hen embar! Kessa ao ivīlībagon se sȳrkta vys, kessa ao ivīlībagon nyke?!" as she spoke, she walked between the smaller units, shouting loud enough for everyone to hear. She felt more confident with her Valyrian and wasn't afraid to speak to them in it. And most importantly: After today, she will no longer be afraid of death.

*"Unsullied! You have been slaves since childhood! Now that time is over, you are free! Your life belongs only to you and you decide how you want to live it! You can leave and no one will stop or hurt you, or you can stay! If you decide that you want to follow me, you follow not only me, but also my vision of a new world! A world without slaves and masters, here, and then also on the other side of the sea! Will you fight for a better world, will you fight for me?!"*

At first there was complete silence. No one said a word, but that didn't discourage her, even though her self-confidence was still very fragile at that moment.

Suddenly, somewhere behind her, the first tip of the spear hit the ground, beating a certain rhythm, and others followed. After a few seconds, an uneven sound echoed in the air, but a few moments later, everyone was beating the same rhythm.

They all made the same choice. They will follow the silver-haired queen and her noble goal.

* * *

King's Landing. Small Council Chamber. Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King, is currently reading a letter that Varys received from one of his "birds" in Essos. He doesn't look happy or particularly concerned about the information. So is it good or bad?

"Daenerys Targaryen is dead." he said, revealing some of the contents of the letter aloud to the other members of the Small Council. "So we can conclude that there is no longer even the specter of threat from across the sea." he rolled up the letter and put it aside.

"My Lord, but Visenya Targaryen is still alive." Tywin didn't like this Varys' remark. He didn't like everything about it, especially the fact that he used the name given to her by her mother, not by him.

He used the name of the great warrior queen, sister-wife of Aegon the Conqueror, one of the most important women of House Targaryen. The name given to this girl was supposed to give hope and remind her of the family's glory days and its power.

But most importantly, it reminded him of his own failure, or rather his son's failure. He fell for her and she used him to escape. Moreover, this traitor, her maid, also helped her.

Now she's in the dungeons. If "Visenya" decides to come back one day, he will make sure that she understands her mistake very clearly.

He underestimated his opponent again, just like he did with Robb Stark.

Besides, he has already figured out a way to deal with this bantling, he just needs to implement it.

"Maegelle is not a threat." he stated dryly.

"She now commands the army of Unsullied and is advised by two great knights. In addition, she has four dragons.

"They are small. The last dragons were no bigger than dogs." Cersei replied to Varys, adopting a similar tone as her father had just done.

She herself was quite contemptuous of Visenya, although she was somewhat glad that she had escaped because it meant that Jaime would not marry her. But at that moment, another fear came to her, regarding a prophecy she had once heard...

"You will be queen... For a time. Then comes another. Younger, more beautiful... To cast you down and take all you hold dear."

"What if those get bigger?"

"If you think she's a bigger threat than the Northern rebellion, then you can do something about it, although we have more important matters to worry about." with these words, Lord Tywin considered the matter is finished. At least for this sitting.

~

-> Chapter XIII "Yunkai" -> general masterlist -> Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon masterlist

[dulcewrites]

I wrote a little thing that kind of sums up myrah and aemond as a married couple. And maybe teases a possible daeron x oc idea I have 👀👀. This probably won’t end up in the second fic but I wanted to share 🫶🏽

Off the deep end

Daeron rubbed his hands against his pants nervously. He watches as Baelor’s climbs over his dad as if he is a play set. Aemond sits on the bed, unphased.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” he pretends to eat Baelor’s hand, making the three year old giggle. “We weren’t expecting you till the summer.”

Daeron nods curtly before taking a deep breath. “It was kind of urgent. I wanted to talk to you.”

Aemond frowns in concern.

“There’s this… girl and-“

Aemond hold his hand up to stop him.

“WIFE!”

Daeron jumps at Aemond’s yelling, even Baelor stops his climbing to give his father a strange look.

“WIFE,” Aemond calls out again.

Daeron can hear small footsteps trudge outside of the door. Myrah comes to the door, belly swollen and hand on her hips.

“What did I tell you about squealing like pig,” Myrah pouts

“First, I do not squeal,” Aemond rolls his eye. “And second, you came anyway.”

Myrah waves him off but her eyes light up at the sight of Daeron.

“My favorite boys in one room,” she walks over and leans down to kiss him on the top of his head. Baelor wiggles out his dad’s arms to cling to his mother’s leg. She push back Aemond’s hair from his shoulder. “And you.”

Aemond grabs her hand and kisses it. “Daeron is in love.”

Daeron opens his mouth to rebut. He is not… at least he does not think so. Myrah gasps, loud and bright.

“Oh my god, are you getting married? Is she from Oldtown? What’s her name? Do you think I know her family?”

Daeron just stares at her for a moment before shaking his head slowly.

“I am not in love,” he glares at Aemond. He receives a shrug in return. “I just… there’s a girl and I don’t know. My brain feels like mush around her.”

Myrah puts hand to her heart.

“You need to tell her how you feel,” Myrah matter of factly. Daeron shifts uncomfortably in the chair. “I know it is easier said than done, but everyone likes hearing that someone thinks of them like that. It will be worth it. Tell him Aemond.”

His brother had been staring Myrah as if she was the Mother and the Maiden reincarnated. Aemond breaks his gaze and looks at him, nodding earnestly.

“What if she does not feel the same way?”

“Then she’s a fool and we hate her.”

He blinks blankly at that. He watches as Baelor tries to reach up and touch his mother’s belly, and Myrah leans down to kiss Aemond.

Daeron bites his lip. If Aemond of all people take the plunge and have it work out in his favor, he supposes it could work out for him too.

[thedeadthree]

💍 + Valaenya x Aurane 👀

CAYMAN !!!!!! hi hi dear i hope your doing well! you dear you! those are my BABIES

for enya this loveliest tri-gemstone amethyst ring ! 🔮💜 in equal parts hold meaning to honor her great grandmother iovanna and her house (and the one she is sworn to!), and to her dragon the ethereal starspire ! the metal of the ring would be crafted with valyrian steel for house targaryen ! her other house! the ring was the treasured possession of laenaera velaryon, a anniversary gift from her husband baelor.

the late m*onford v*elaryon before his tragic passing at the battle of the blackwater was to be her betrothed, and had intended it to be hers for their betrothal. i tweaked a few things in her backstory and they actually met when oberyn faced the mountain in the trial by combat for tyrion! before he made himself at home in the stepstones aurane popped by driftmark and in case their paths were to cross again that he would return it to her to honor monfords memory. at the time, he wouldn’t think of the prospect of marriage ! just didn’t think it was for him! oh how wrong he was ! 🥀🔮

and for aurane i was thinking he would be a HUUGE fan of stacked rings? pirate boy and dragon girl on full display and he is darn tootin PROUD OF IT (and i mean hes so right for that!) marrying ENYA? he’s so right for that!) though i think the gemstone would have more of a turquoise hue to honor house velaryon and the sea 🌊✨ and the dragon for enya and his marriage into the house of the dragon <3

[subwonwooagenda]

I Was Wrong

Summary: Since Tyrion arrived to Mereen and became your sister's advisor, you've always held him in high respect and admiration. When you and your sister fled on Drogon and Veles from the fighting pit massacre, Tyrion was left in charge and truth be told he didn't do a good job. Now you and your sister return and both of you are less than pleased with his choices.

Pairing(s): Tyrion Lannister x Fem!TargaryenReader

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, slight angst, biting, rough sex, use of the word 'pussy' stfu it's a warning to me I hate that word lmao

Request: "Can I get a tyrion lannister smut fic? F!reader an him get into a huge fight an after the fight he is more rough an biting an dirty talk please" Requested by @vikingstoner69 i hope you enjoy it!!

Tyrion didn't know what to do. His queens had left and he, as their advisor, made the political choice to meet with the Masters and come to terms that they had seven years to abolish slavery. Now the masters were attacking Mereen and his queens were glaring down at him.

"Despite appearances, I think you'll find the city is on the rise." Tyrion said, voice shaking as he faced the wrath of the Mother of Dragons and the Queen of Serpents.

"The city's on the rise?" Dany said, eyebrow arching as she spoke before looking at you, sitting on one of the benches, jaw clenched as you stayed silent, choosing to be angry in silent.

"Mereen is strong. Commerce has returned to the markets. the people are behind you both." Tyrion has said, flinching as an explosion followed his words.

You and Dany stayed silent, simply glaring at him. You and your sister worked so hard and so long, and you couldn't help but be angry at the lack of respect Tyrion seemed to show that work.

"Well, not all the people. No ruler that ever lived had the support of all the people. But the rebirth of Mereen is the cause of this violence." He stated, causing you to raise an eyebrow at his bullshit excuse of reasoning as your sister walked over to where you sat.

Tyrion took a few steps over to you and your sister. "The Masters cannot let Mereen succeed. Because if Mereen succeeds, a city without slavery, a city without masters...it proves to them that no one needs a master."

Dany and you shared a long exchange of silent words before you turned to Tyrion, standing up and finally deciding to speak.

"Good. Shall we begin?" You said to him.

He looked confused for a bit before asking, "Do we have a plan?"

You took a step closer to him as your sister sat where you once sat, "We will crucify the Masters. We will set their fleets afire, kill every last one of their soldiers, and return their cities to the dirt. That is our plan." You said to him, your anger clear through your words.

"You don't approve?" Dany asked him.

Tyrion sighed before speaking, "You once told me you knew what your father was. Did you two know of his plans for King's Landing when the Lannister armies were at his gates? Probably not. Well, he told my brother and Jaime told me. He had caches of wildfire hidden under the Red Keep, the Guildhalls, the Sept of Baelor, all the major thoroughfares. He would have burned every one of his citizens. The loyal ones as well as the traitors. Every man, woman, and child. Thats why Jaime killed him."

"This is entirely different." Dany said as she stood, her anger becoming ever clearer.

"You're talking about destroying cities. It's not entirely different. I'd like to suggest a different approach." He offered to you two.

All of you found yourselves stood in front of the Masters, fury pouring off of you and Dany. Tyrion stood next to you and looked up at you, but you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, too pissed with his actions to even begin to try and make sense of his actions.

You tried to discuss terms of surrender with the Masters, but they chose to insult you two and insult the work you both put into the cities you freed. You and Dany looked at each other and knew what had to be done, regardless if Tyrion would approve of it or not.

You both took to the sky on your dragons and did as you told Tyrion. Burned every last ship and killed every last soldier, leaving Grey Worm, Missandai, and Tyrion to deal with the Masters yourself.

When you returned back to the Great Pyramid, Tyrion tried his hardest to get you to talk to him, let alone even look at him. His tries failed until he finally managed to corner you in your room.

"Darling, if you would just let me explain." He tried to say.

"Explain what? How you looked at the work we put in and simply threw it all away?" You yelled at him, finally hitting your breaking point with him. "You disrespected me, you disrespected my sister, you shit on all the things we've done to better this world, and for what?!"

Tyrion sighed, rubbing his temple, "I was merely doing what I believed to be in our best interest. At the time you needed the masters to be on your side or they would have happily brought war upon you and your sisters reign."

"Yes, and what exactly did your fucking meddling bring us? War." You yelled, glaring down at him.

"And if I did nothing, where do you think you would be?! Sitting happily while the problems fixed themselves?!" He yelled back.

You both had a small period of silence, just glaring at each other as you both tried to calm yourselves before your fight got any worse.

"You disrespected me Tyrion." You said in a calm, stern voice. "The years of work my sister and I have done to make these people's lives better, their world better. Give them freedom. Freedom to make the choices they want and do the actions they want, regardless of the good they get or the consequences they get, they were free to make those choices and do those actions. Thats what we fought for. Freedom. And you spit on that like it was nothing." You told him, voice breaking as you sat on your bed, eyes closing as you held back the tears.

Tyrion felt awful, truly he did, but he also felt anger. He was trying to help and instead of trying to understand that he had nothing but yells to make up for it. He shook his head and grabbed a glass of wine, ignoring the scoff you gave him and the mutterings of Valyria you said.

"What would you have me do?!" He turned to you, throwing the glass to the side, marching over to you. "I have done nothing but apologize and apologize all bloody day and you and your sister have done nothing but me feel even worse for the wrong choices I made. So, tell me, what would you have me do?" He asked, hand coming up to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

You stared right back at him, unknowingly clenching your thighs at his act of roughness. You and Tyrion have been in many fights, but he's never acted like this.

"Say it again." You whispered, your hand coming up to wrap your fingers around his wrist, breath starting to pick up.

"Is that what you want? To hear I was wrong?" He mumbled, dragging your face closer to his, "I was wrong. You insufferable woman, I was wrong." He muttered out before tugging you into an anger filled kiss, dragging you off the bed and forcing you to your knees in front of him.

You gasped as your eyes closed, a small moan escaping into Tyrions mouth as your arm wrapped around his neck to keep yourself steady. Tyrion was many things in bed, but he had never acted this rough with you and it certainly affected you in a wonderful way.

"If only you would have listened to me but no, you always had to get the last word in." He grunted, easily untying your dress, tugging it down harshly, exposing your breasts to him. He easily wrapped your legs around his waist, lying your bare back on the floor, attaching his mouth to your nipple. You moaned as you arched into his mouth, his hand coming up to your other breast, pinching and tugging the nipple as he nibbled on the one in his mouth.

His other hand went down to your bunched up dress, slipping underneath it to run his fingers up and down the folds of your wet pussy, slipping his middle and ring finger inside you as he spoke, "Since I've been here, you have done nothing but second guess me and undermine me and I must say, sweet girl, it's about time someone put you in your place."

He growled, mouth trailing his warm kisses down your chest and stomach, beelining for the one place he was about to ravage. He let a feral moan escape his throat as his tongue hit your clit, your wetness quickly being devoured by him as his fingers sped up their thrusts inside you.

You tilted your head back, eyes shutting tightly as your mouth fell open in silent pleasure. Your legs lifting to rest on Tyrions shoulders as you propped your upper body up on your hands, one of them snaking town to tangle in Tyrions dark curls, tugging him closer to your pussy.

You felt yourself clenching around his fingers, tugging at his hair when his free hand returned to your breast, pinching and tugging at them, causing blissful moans to escape your mouth at the mix of pain and pleasure that he was bestowing upon you.

"Tyrion, please...I'm so close..." You whispered out, just loud enough for him to hear you. Tyrion let a smirk grace his lips, slipping a third finger inside you, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking gently on the bundle of nerves. Your legs tightened around his head, back arching as he gifted you the sweet release you were craving, a loud moan escaping into the echoes of your room. You didn't give the slightest fuck on whether or not people could hear you.

Tyrion pulled back, moving your legs to wrap back around his waist as he stood on his knees, quickly undoing his trousers, pulling his hard cock out of its confinements, moaning as he rubbed it through your wet slit, eyes closing as he gave you a small moment to recover.

Tyrion basked in the moan you let out as he pushed his way inside you, groaning himself as his cock slipped inside the wet heat of your pussy, not stopping until he was bottomed out. He gave you a quick second to recover before he began thrusting in and out of you, groaning at the warm juices that dripped down his cock as he fucked you.

You dug your nails into his back, loud moans spilling as he attached his mouth to your chest and neck, biting and sucking wherever he could. You knew there would be bruises and marks all over you come morning, but you didn't care. You didn't care about anything but your Tyrion. The way he fucked you, the way he marked you up, the way he loved you. He was yours, and you were his and he'd be damned if he let anyone forget that.

"Look at me, sweet girl. Look at me." Tyrion said, gripping your jaw to force you to look at him, your eyes slowly opening as whines escaped your mouth. "I want to see you when you cum. I want to watch when you fall apart on my cock. I want to bask in the way you'll be fucked stupid by me."

You wrapped both your arms around his neck, eyes locking onto his as you rocked your hips in time with his thrusts. You let a loud moan out as he locked his lips with yours, spit and teeth colliding in your passion filled kiss, Tyrions fingers reaching in between you two to rub at your clit, dragging you closer and closer to your peak.

"Go on, my love, let go for me." He urges you on, smirking as your head fell back, a loud mix of a scream and a moan leaving your mouth as you crossed the line between pleasure and pure bliss. You held onto him the best you could as he joined you in your climax, a rough grown escaping his mouth as his hips stilled, his hands resting on your shaking legs.

You two laid there, panting as you both catch your breath, Tyrion resting his head in-between your breasts. You sighed as you felt the soft kisses he left, your hand coming up to tangle into his hair, pressing a kiss to his head.

"I did not mean to undermine what you and your sister have done, my love. I admire you and the world you strive to create." Tyrion said, leaning up to press a kiss to your mouth, feeling the soft touch of a smile on your lips.

"You were trying to help, i appreciate it but perhaps leave the matters of dealing with the masters to me and my sister, hmm?" You mumbled, smiling as Tyrion chuckles and nods,

"As you wish, my love."

[samwpmarleau]

For @pliocenecatdrawings

Organization is not Jena’s forte, but by god does she pride herself on maintaining a well-stocked medicine cabinet.

The action more familiar than she’d like, she hauls the veritable cornucopia of supplies onto the kitchen table and points at the chair opposite hers. “Sit.”

Baelor obliges, looking much like a sullen child. His nose is a mess, the bleeding only marginally quelled by the mountain of tissues he’s gone through. It’s already starting to turn black and blue, too.

“You didn’t even ice it?” she chides. “One of these days, I’m going to refuse to do this for you and send you to your mother instead.”

He smiles as much as his split lip will allow. “No you won’t.”

“I should. Now don’t move.” He’s a good patient, at the very least, staying perfectly still as she pokes and prods and douses the injury with various disinfectants. Once she’s done with her examination, she grabs him a bag of frozen peas to keep down the swelling. “Well, I don’t think it’s broken this time, but only barely. Care to tell me what happened? I thought rec hockey was supposed to be non-contact.”

“What do you think?” Baelor’s easy affability is gone, replaced with the kind of dark anger she knows is caused by only one thing.

She busies herself cleaning up the medical supplies as she tries to stop from getting worked up herself. “Who said it?”

“Some guy on the other team. I don’t know his name.”

“Retaliation isn’t like you.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he says. “But you know Maekar, he’s on a hair trigger when it comes to stuff like that. I’d have let him at it, but Anna’s due any day now and I didn’t want him to come home looking like, well, me.”

Jena feels her heart melting. She’s always loved the bond he has with his brother, though she herself has only rarely seen past Maekar’s thorny exterior. Careful not to hurt him, she leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love how much you care,” she says. “You’re a good man.”

“I bet you won’t think so tonight.”

Jena scoffs. “You already sound like a car wreck, your snoring couldn’t possibly get any worse.”

Turns out, it can.

She knows if she were to wake him up and complain he’d readily go sleep on the couch, but she’d rather put up with the noise than an empty bed. Chuckling to herself, she retrieves from her bedside table a pair of earplugs, then snuggles up to Baelor and lets the steady rise and fall of his chest lull her to sleep.