#vampire!aemond x reader

[mythicmanuscripts]

In the vampire!Aegon post you talked a bit about Aemond and omg....you're so right!! he would!! He seems like the type to get super attached. "Why would i feed off of anyone else, I already have you." T-T

EXACTLY ANON!! Also I counted and I have 9 separate asks all asking me to elaborate on vampire!aemond, which honestly I shouldn’t even be surprised at this point I think we all share the braincell 😂

Anyway, I’m gonna keep these thoughts SFW so no cut to hide behind, but of course it will be vampire!Aemond and also implied sub!Aemond. We can always chat about the NSFW side in another ask though :))

——————————

So in this supernatural!au, I don’t think it would be an arranged marriage? (Which, I know, pigs are flying because I’m actually discussing another option) I say this because I think that once Aemond encounters you and gets your scent he’s absolutely done for. He could have the ten most attractive women in the entire seven kingdoms naked before him and he’d look right past them all to try and find you.

Your scent entices him from day one, but then he starts to get closer to you and it very quickly becomes apparent that your connection is so much deeper than just him liking your scent. You two get along like a house on fire and pretty soon Aemond doesn’t even notice anyone else.

Like maybe you’re a lady of the court or your family travelled to the red keep for something, anything that means you spend a fair amount of time walking around the place. You don’t expect to do much more than sit quietly when held court and try to not murder the countless suitors trying to convince you and your family to give them your hand in marriage.

The very first interaction you have with him is after you sneak away from court because hearing Aegon stumble through advice for everyone is mind numbing. You end up in the library, and that’s where Aemond would you. He had the same plan: sneak into the library before he died of boredom.

You end up sitting next to each other and reading, you’ll sometimes say something to him as well. You know he’s a vampire, but that doesn’t make you feel unsafe, certainly not here anyway.

Aemond, meanwhile, is literally salivating. He’s always prided himself on having good control over his urges but now, sitting next to you, he can’t even get his fangs to retreat.

From then onwards it feels like Aemond is constantly following you. Of course it takes while for him to do much more then just walk with you, but he’s already made up his mind that he won’t marry another.

Maybe the first time he drinks from you it’s out of necessity? By that point you know Aemond very well and you know he hasn’t fed in a few days and there’s some ball or celebration going on that night so he has to be fed enough to not go killing everyone in attendance.

Initially when you hold your arm to him, palm up, he refuses says he would never expect that from you. But then you tell him you’d be honoured, he can’t resist anymore.

And holy god he’s immediately addicted. Everything about drinking from you is different. Not only is your blood incredible but he’s also in your arms and you’re running his neck.

When he pulls away, his pupils are blown and his entire body is like jelly. He didn’t even know it was possible to feel this satiated but somehow he does.

From that moment on he never drinks from another, ever. He would starve without complaint if he couldn’t drink you.

In fact, maybe you have a few days where you’re very busy and you haven’t see Aemond since the feeding incident. Eventually you get summoned by the maesters to Aemond’s chambers because he curled up in his bed and refusing all the blood the maesters are trying offer him. He was literally starving himself because he wouldn’t have another.

You let him drink again of course, and when he’s done he just lays there, completely satiated. Without thinking he rolls closer to you and you bring him into your arms. You know you shouldn’t do this. As an unmarried woman you know you’re not supposed to risk someone seeing you coming or going from Aemond’s quarters but you couldn’t care less because he needs you.

From there he stops trying to keep his desires under control. He’s always with you, always supporting you and keeping you close and of course feeding from you.

(This is already so long and I’m starting to get a migraine but I have plenty more thoughts on this entire AU, unfortunately I just can’t do them right now but tomorrow when I’m headache free we will be unstoppable, but until then, I hope you guys liked the start of this!’ Let me know your thoughts I’d love to hear)

[lizzyiii]

His Lady Love

pairing | young aemond x vampire!reader

word count | 4.1k words

summary | aemond becomes obsessed with his mother's newest lady-in-waiting. he seeks her comfort after aegon takes him to the brothel.

tags | AFAB reader, older woman/younger man (more like older girl/younger boy), delusional aemond, angst/comfort, aemond pov.

note | my first time posting, also I really wanted to see what it would be like with a vampire in hotd, PART 2 coming soon.

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

He was ten and two when Aemond Targaryen first laid eyes upon your bewitching figure. At first, he was convinced it was a mere trick of his own mind, a mere mirage conjured forth by imagination and longing.

Clad in a resplendent gown of deep wine red, you appeared nothing short of ethereal, your skin seeming to glow beneath the vibrant hue of her attire. Your hair, intricately braided into an elaborate updo, lent an air of regal sophistication to your youthful appearance. It was no wonder that you had swiftly ascended to the ranks of his mother's most esteemed ladies in waiting.

Despite his tender age, Aemond was keenly aware of the profound allure that you exuded. You could not have been more than eight and ten, and yet you possessed a rare and ineffable grace that captured his young heart with an instantaneous and profound intensity.

In that fleeting moment of their initial encounter, he became resolutely certain that, when he came of age, you would be the one he would take as his wife.

He despised them. The sheer sight of Aegon and his nephews filled Aemond with deep-seated resentment. It was a reminder of the injustice he felt deep in his bones. Aegon and those bastards, useless and undeserving, had been gifted with dragons, while Aemond, a true warrior, was left without one. As if to add insult to injury, they had gifted him a lowly pig, a cruel mockery of his situation.

Consumed by anger and grief, Aemond could not contain his rage any longer. He stormed into the Dragon Pit, the heat and fury of the dragons surrounding him. In the chaos, he narrowly escaped being burnt alive, only to find himself scolded by his mother.

And then he was seeking solace in her arms. Rare as it was for her to offer comfort, Aemond clung to her, desperate for any shred of comfort in the face of his overwhelming emotions.

Before their moment could fully settle, a soft, melodic voice filled the room. "Your Grace - Oh, I apologize for interrupting," your voice wafted into the chamber, causing Aemond to hastily pull away from his mother, his back turned as he hastily wiped away the traces of dirt and tears from his face.

Aemond straightened his posture and steadied his breath, turning to find you standing in the doorway, your eyes filled with genuine concern and compassion. He felt a pang of embarrassment as he realized he had been caught in such a vulnerable moment.

"It's alright, My Lady," his mother, Alicent, reassured you as you approached them. Aemond couldn't help but notice the weariness in his mother's expression. Did comforting her son take such a toll on her?

Alicent gave Aemond a brief, tightening look before turning to her lady-in-waiting. "Perhaps you could see my son back to his chambers," she suggested, her tone laced with a hint of exasperation.

It was clear that his mother was eager to pass him off to her lady in waiting, but Aemond couldn't bring himself to feel too upset. Since his lady love happened to be the one assigned to escort him, he had no complaints. Despite their six-year age difference, Aemond was confident that once he reached his maturity, their age gap would no longer matter.

"Of course, Your Grace," you said with a respectful bow of your head. Your gaze slowly shifted to the prince, and he nodded as he made his way out the door, with you following close behind.

"You're wondering about my appearance," Aemond murmured softly, his focus fixed straight ahead as the two of you strolled through the corridors of the Red Keep.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and Aemond savored the sound, filled with pride knowing he had elicited it. "Tis not my place to ask questions, My Prince," your warm voice filled his ears, "But judging by the ash and dirt on your fair skin, I would venture that you were likely at the dragon pit."

"It's unfair," Aemond grumbled indignantly, feeling an unjust injustice in the situation. Immediately, he wished he could take back his words, realizing that he had unintentionally come across as childish when he was supposed to be displaying to you his maturity and wisdom.

"The world can be cruel and unjust, My Prince," you replied with a saccharine sweetness in your voice, "But that is why it is imperative for you to assert your authority and take command of your destiny."

Aemond angled his head to catch a glimpse of your elegant profile, admiring not just your physical beauty but also the astuteness of your words. "And how can I accomplish that?" he inquired.

You turned to meet his gaze, your eyes locking and causing his heart to skip a beat. You bestowed him with a subtle yet meaningful smile before you said, "By refusing to accept a life you do not deserve."

"And what of you," Aemond inquired, "What do you believe you deserve, My Lady?" If you were to marry him, you would lack nothing; he was prepared to grant you any request you might make.

"It’s difficult to say," you murmured, tilting your head thoughtfully. Even that Aemond found endearing, "Some individuals believe they are worthy of the entire world, whereas I value simplicity."

Aemond raised an inquisitive silver brow, "Simplicity?"

"Stability and security. A serene life," you explained. Then you glanced down and offered him a warm smile, "Perhaps we can continue our discussion another time, your grace."

Aemond was scarred. Left disfigured and crippled, condemned to a life of one-eyed hardship due to the foolish actions of his bastard nephew. He had once thought it a fair exchange, an eye for a dragon, but now, lying in his chamber chambers, sedated by the potent poppy milk, he questioned his own judgement.

Aemond frowned as he noticed they had reached the doors to his chambers. Before he could utter another word, you nodded courteously and departed. He was determined to offer you a serene life. As his wife, he would spare no effort in providing for you. And in turn you would be his serenity.

As he lay there, disabled and near death, he longed for your presence. Perhaps that was why he willingly surrendered to the effects of the poppy milk, for it allowed him to see you in his dreams. He took solace in slumber, for it was there that he could find you, if only in his mind.

But despite his yearning to see you in waking life, a part of him hesitated. He did not want you to witness the repulsive scar that marred his once-perfect face, especially the swollen and oozing scar where his left eye once was.

The pain from his injuries radiated through his body, a burning fire within him that consumed all other emotions. Aemond's thoughts turned to vengeance, as he vowed to take back what was stolen from him. His mind was set on becoming the best warrior in the Seven Kingdoms, one to surpass even his uncle, Daemon Targaryen, and he would not rest until he had retribution.

He would not accept a life he did not deserve, as his lady love had told him. With the biggest dragon in the world by his side, Aemond was determined to become even better than his past self. And then, you would be his. His lady love would be his wife, and together, you and him would rule with fire and blood.

He longed to shed his skin. The scorching heat in the chamber had become unbearable. The wine she had offered him churned in his gut, causing him to fight the urge to expel it.

Following the feast of Aemond's thirteenth nameday, Aegon had hinted at a surprise for him. Little did Aemond know that his elder brother would lead him into the depths of a pleasure house. Without a chance to protest, Aegon vanished into a sea of bodies and silks.

Next, Aemond found himself ensconced in a chamber bathed in the soft glow of flickering candles. Obscene tapestries adorned the walls, depicting the most intimate of acts between man and woman. And then, a woman entered. She was of an age exceeding even that of his own mother.

She cooed at him, showering him with soft words and adulation. Soon, she was touching him, disrobing him. Aemond wanted to protest, to scream for her to stop, but his vocal cords betrayed him. His body quivered as she caressed him, whispering into his ear.

Once it was over, Aemond was left in a daze. His body no longer felt like his own. Swiftly, he scrambled to dress himself, fleeing the brothel in a disheveled state, He didn't care where Aegon was, all he could think about was reaching you.

His heart pounded in his chest as he raced through the secret passageways of Maegor's Holdfast, his lungs burning with each desperate breath and tears falling down his pale cheeks. He bypassed his own chambers and his mother's, instead making a beeline for the guest wing where he had roamed many times in an attempt to get a glimpse of you.

Finally, he reached her door and pounded on it frantically, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to compose himself. He had to see you. He needed you.

As the door creaked open, his eye widened with the realization that you and him had not spoken since he had lost his eye, and he had carelessly left his eye patch behind in the brothel. He feared that you would see his disfigurement. Before he could flee, however, the door swung open.

You stood before him, ethereal and captivating. Your locks cascaded down, some strands delicately tucked behind your ears. Cloaked in a deep crimson silk robe, which accentuated your graceful form.

Though your initial expression seemed perturbed by the intrusion, it quickly softened as your gaze fell upon Aemond. Your eyes wandered over his disheveled appearance and his one glassy eye, and a wave of concern washed over your features.

And without a second thought, he threw himself into your soft body, wrapping his arms around your waist as he laid his head against your stomach. Almost instantly his tears returned and after a moment, your arms came around him hesitantly, offering him your comfort.

Gently, you extracted yourself from his arms and offered your hand to him and without hesitation, he took it. Your skin was soft, yet cold, providing relief to his overheated body. You led him into your chambers which was simple and minimalistic, but all Aemond could focus on was the coolness of your touch.

Guiding him to the chaise in your chamber, you gently urged him to take a seat. As you walked away, Aemond mourned the loss of your touch, but you soon returned with a goblet in hand, offering it to him.

With a hint of wariness, Aemond took a tentative sip, finding the water refreshing. He greedily drank, while your worried eyes remained fixed on him.

As he finished the water, you placed a hand on his wrist, your concern evident in your touch. "You must tell me what happened, my prince," you urged, your voice soft but determined.

Aemond’s gaze turned away, a tempest brewing in his heart. “Shall I summon your mother, then?” you suggested, your tone a mere whisper laced with concern.

At the mention of his mother, Aemond’s eye snapped back to yours, desperation flickering in his gaze. “No. No, please don’t do that,” he pleaded, his voice a hushed urgency.

Swallowing hard, Aemond felt the weight of his brother's casual cruelty descend upon him. “Aegon,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, “he said it was a surprise. A rite of passage, he called it. He told me it was time to… get it wet.” He faltered, the memory crashing over him like waves against a rocky shore. Closing his eye, he inhaled sharply as his pulse quickened, “I can still feel it. Her hands were everywhere, warm and suffocating. I didn’t know how to make it stop... so I just waited until it was done.” Pain and confusion tangled in his chest, threatening to spill over.

He felt your gentle touch then, your hand gliding from his wrist to envelop his own in a tender squeeze. “Oh,” you murmured softly, your voice a balm against the chaos within him

But as you slowly withdrew your hand, a wave of panic surged through Aemond, tightening his grip on yours. “No…” he breathed, desperation creeping into his tone. You hushed him gently, your grip reassuring as you leaned closer. “Calm yourself, my prince. I intend to run you a warm bath, to cleanse you of the filth from that place.”

He nodded, though a nervous knot twisted in his stomach, and watched as you glided away into the adjoining bathing chamber. As Aemond took in the chamber surrounding him, he noted its unadorned simplicity. No treasures adorned the walls, no personal tokens to lend a semblance of warmth or familiarity. Yet, a heavy goblet rested on the table before him, catching his eye. The reddish liquid within gleamed like blood in the dim light, causing a shiver to race down his spine. He forced his gaze away, willing himself to ignore the unsettling thought as he waited for your return.

Moments later, you reemerged, the soft fabric of your robe trailing behind you. “Your bath is ready, my prince,” you said gently, cradling in your arms a neatly folded bundle of his clean clothing.

“How did you retrieve my clothes so swiftly?” Aemond asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

You averted your eyes, but he caught the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Your chambers lie but a breath away from mine."

But his chambers were on the other side of the castle?

Aemond's heart raced, not out of insecurity concerning his form — for he considered himself a Targaryen, and his lineage was his strength. Yet, the hole of his left eye gnawed at his pride. You met his gaze with an equal measure of courage, undeterred by the scar that marred what once was a handsome countenance. It was still the body of a boy, and though he was thirteen, he could not shake the flicker of embarrassment that flared in his chest.

Stealing a furtive glance towards you, Aemond found comfort in the fact that your eyes were cast downward, filled with allocation rather than scrutiny. With a swift motion, he shed the last vestiges of his clothing, and with that, slipped into the warmth of the steaming bath. As the water enveloped him, a sense of relief washed over him, mingled with surprise. The oils that swirled within the bath carried your fragrance, soothing and familiar, reminiscent of sunlit fields and the gentle sway of blossoms in the breeze.

"Shall I fetch a maid, my prince?" You asked, your voice soft and gentle. Your eyes finally settled upon him, he could detect an undercurrent of genuine concern.

"No," he replied curtly, his tone sharper than intended, the remnants of his pride still gnawing at him.

Aemond could hear you hum softly as you came to kneel by the edge of the bath, your fingers trailing in the water as you offered him a placating smile, radiating warmth that contrasted sharply with the chill of the world outside. Aemond’s gaze remained fixed on you as you began to scrub away the remnants of what had happened just before.

“Does it still hurt?” you asked softly, your eyes momentarily flitting from his face to the scar that bisected it before you continued your ministrations, your cloth gently gliding over his skin as if to erase the memories of that night.

“Stings sometimes,” Aemond replied, a shadow of shame dancing across his features.

You nodded, your hands deftly working to cleanse his face, but your gaze lingered on his empty eye socket—an echo of loss and pain that pierced deeper than any physical wound.

He cast his gaze downward, feeling the familiar pang of discomfort rise. “It’s… ugly,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

With an unexpected tenderness, you cupped his face in her hands, guiding him back to meet your gaze. “No, my prince,” you countered softly. “Not ugly. Merely different, a testament to your strength. You might even adorn it, you know.”

Adorn it? Aemond raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued despite the prickling pride that flared. “With what?” he asked, fixing his single violet eye upon you, momentarily captivated.

A gentle smile danced on your lips, a flash of mischief flickering in your expression, illuminating your features in the dim light. “Why not place a jewel in it, perhaps? What’s your favorite jewel?”

He shrugged, a habitual defense against showing too much of himself. “I don’t know,” he replied, his voice low.

The question hung in the air as you added, “Mine are sapphires."

Aemond’s thoughts drifted momentarily, recalling the dresses you had worn, swirling fabrics in hues that bespoke your grace. A pang struck him; “I’ve never seen you in blue.”

You shook your head dismissively, your eyes averted, as you responded, “It does not suit me, my prince."

“Impossible,” he mumbled, the word escaping in a barely audible whisper. He found it hard to believe you could not wear something so exquisite and innocent as blue, just as he found it hard to believe himself worthy of your affection. You were a jewel in your own right, far surpassing the treasures of the crown and the markets.

Once Aemond was freshly scrubbed clean and clad in his simple garments, the flickering torchlight cast shadows upon the stone walls of the Red Keep. You regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Are you ready to retire to your chambers now, my prince?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond's heart sank at the thought of leaving your presence. The heavy weight of what had occurred a few hours ago felt more burdensome than ever. He cleared his throat, struggling to imbue his tone with the command expected of a Targaryen, "I wish to stay here."

Your brow furrowed slightly, and he could see the hesitation in your eyes, but you nodded nonetheless, leading him back toward your bed where you made to arrange the bedding around him. His lone eye followed your every movement, drawn to the curves of your form and the gentle way you tended to him. As you turned to leave, Aemond’s instincts took hold. With a swift motion, he grasped your wrist, his grip tighter than he intended. "Stay with me."

Your expression shifted to a sternness reminiscent of his mother, a reminder of the propriety and decorum that governed your lives. "That would be most inappropriate." Your tone was firm.

"Please," he murmured, his voice dropping to a near pleading softness.

With a heavy sigh that betrayed your weariness, you succumbed to his request, moving to the far side of your bed and, to his joy, sliding beneath the sheets. Aemond felt a rush of daring coursing through him like wildfire; he subtly shifted closer, resting his head on your chest. For a brief moment, he feared rejection, his thoughts racing to the taunts of his nephews and the ache of the void left by his lost eye. But then, as if sensing his need for solace, your arms enveloped him, warmth flooding through the cold shadows of the brothel.

In that cocoon of stolen intimacy, Aemond found refuge. The bitter weight of Aegon’s taunts, the pain of his injury, and the disquiet of the brothel faded away like whispers in the wind. He was no longer Aemond, the one-eyed prince; he was simply a man seeking comfort from the woman he loved.

Weeks after, Aemond strode into his chambers with the weight of the day's demands heavy upon him, only to halt in his tracks at the sight of a delicate gift-wrapped parcel resting atop his oaken table. Unease prickled at the edges of his mind as he approached, an unfamiliar crested insignia embossed on the fine paper hinting at its sender. With practiced grace, he unwrapped the offering, and there within gleamed a sapphire so vivid it whispered of the sea’s depths, glinting alluringly in the candlelight.

A smile unbidden flickered across his features, for he knew—knew it was from you. A token of your affection, bright as the glory of House Targaryen itself. It swelled his heart, igniting a warmth that had grown chill. He could envision your soft gaze as you selected the gem, the way your laughter danced through the air like the sweetest song.

Determined to express his gratitude, he spent the day scouring the halls of the Red Keep, threading his way through the throngs of courtiers and servants, all the while searching for your familiar figure. But fate, it seemed, had conspired against him. The hours slipped by like sand through his fingers, and as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting long shadows throughout the stone halls, bitterness sank into his bones.

After the evening meal, his resolve led him to seek his mother. With a furrowed brow, he pushed the door ajar and entered, expecting to find answers from her. But the sight that greeted him was far from comforting. Alicent sat hunched over a letter, the wax seal shattered beside her, her expression dark and heavy with unspoken words that lingered in the air like the scent of damp earth before a storm.

“Aemond?” she murmured, as if startled from a reverie, her voice a mere whisper, laden with melancholy.

He watched her for a moment, his previous thrill of joy eclipsed by her obvious distress. “What troubles you, Mother?” he ventured, stepping closer.

Alicent lifted her head, her expression a fragile mask that crumbled the moment she met his gaze. A semblance of a smile teased her lips, but the sorrow beneath was palpable. “All is well, my son,” she lied.

He knew the bond his mother shared with you, the girl who had nestled herself in the depths of his mother’s affection, unlike the numerous ladies-in-waiting who flitted about like storm-dodging sparrows. To Alicent, you were not merely a servant but a girl she cherished as if you were her own blood.

But Aemond’s sharp eye caught the glimmer of distress that lingered in her tone. He advanced further into the room, his gaze honing in on the parchment that lay forgotten in her delicate grasp. “What is it?” he pressed, his heart beginning to thrum in his chest, sensing the foreboding weight of something unsaid.

Alicent's voice was tinged with sorrow, a shade that unsettled Aemond's heart as she whispered the name of his beloved, “It is from her.” The chill of her words struck him like winter's breath. “She has decided to leave the Keep."

In that moment, it felt as though the very foundations of King's Landing trembled, the walls echoing his anguish. Aemond's heart tightened painfully, a dragon's fang sinking into his chest, yet Alicent remained blissfully unaware of her son’s turmoil as she set the letter down upon the polished mahogany table before turning away, her silhouette retreating into the shadows of her room.

Stinging tears threatened to spill from the corners of his eye. You could not have forsaken him; you would never abandon the bond the two of you shared, so why had you departed? Aemond seized the letter, his hand shaking with urgency, his eye darting across the elegant script. You had spoken of a deep homesickness, a yearning to reconnect with your family. You graciously thanked his mother for her kindness during your stay.

Yet, amidst your carefully penned words lay an abyss of uncertainty. No mention of where you had gone, nor any promise of when—or if—you would return. Only your name, signed with elegant flourish and the seal of your house—a sigil that felt as foreign to Aemond as a stranger’s face.

— Mikaelson

[tomriddleslovergirl]

The Cannibal Prince

Pairing: Vampire!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Includes: nipple play, kissing, non-consensual vampire turning (Including a kiss), biting, side character death

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: You marry Prince Aemond, and he reveals another Targaryen wedding tradition that many aren't privy to.

It was fortunately windy at Dragonstone — a delightful contrast to that of King’s Landing.

You wore one of your Dornish gowns, showing off quite a bit of your skin. You hadn’t really gotten into the fashion at King’s Landing. It was so terribly hot there and your gowns from back home gave you a delightful reprieve.

You stood outside. You had first come out to watch the waves lick at the big rocks, but your thoughts soon drifted off to Aemond Targaryen — Your betrothed.

You had brief interactions with the man. Once, when you first arrived at King’s Landing. You had eaten dinner with Prince Aemond, along with the rest of his family. It had been a tense first meeting for you. Queen Alicent was the one carrying the conversation, with Otto asking questions about Dorne here and there.

Though you were not Dornish royalty like the Martell’s, your house is a great one.

You had noticed Queen Alicent lowering her gaze to your dress a few times over dinner before looking back at you with a fake smile. You think she didn’t like your dress.

Aegon, though, scared you. He would not take his eyes off of you during the feast and would speak of how you were too pretty for his cripple brother. You noticed that Prince Aemond had tensed at that, his fingers tightening around his cutlery. You hadn’t spoken out in defense of Aemond — just gave Aegon a faux smile, hoping he didn’t notice how uncomfortable you were. You think he did.

You had heard rumors about the Targaryens. Of how their serving girls were disappearing at an alarming rate, about Prince Aegon’s sexual debauchery, that your betrothed was not missing an eye at all, and that when he had his eye cut out, it had come back! That you did not believe, it simply wasn’t possible.

You shivered from the cold Dragonstone air, and like he knew you were thinking of him, a voice spoke out from behind you. “Cold, My Lady?”

You turned around, your golden dress moving with you. There stood Aemond Targaryen, a few feet away from you. His hands were clasped behind his back and his long white hair looked slightly unkempt because of the winds.

You bowed, before looking back up at him. “Nothing I can’t handle, My Prince.”

You were proven wrong as the wind beat at you, forcing you to squint.

Aemond wrinkled his nose, like he had smelt something he didn’t like before getting his expression under control and clenching his jaw.

“It is getting quite late, betrothed. Would you allow me the honor of walking you back to your chambers?” Aemond asked.

Your eyes widen slightly at the request, but you nod anyway. “Of course, My Prince.”

You both walked back into the Castle, a quiet overtaking you both. You had hoped Aemond would have offered you his arm, but he hadn’t, and this was the longest time you two had spent together, so you contented yourself with that.

Your eyes gazed at all the dragon furniture and you were reminded of Princess Rhaenyra.

You had been surprised when you found out that you’d be marrying Aemond here, as you had heard that Rhaenyra had left for Dragonstone because she couldn’t stand the Hightowers and their children anymore. Perhaps she had a change of mind.

You and Aemond reached your chamber door. There were dragons carved into the wood, their long, lithe bodies stretched out on it.

You opened the door and stepped in, turning to look at Aemond. “Would you like to come in, My Prince?” It was a courtesy, of course. If you and your betrothed were both caught alone together, it would be quite the scandal.

Aemond looked at you, scrutinizing your body as his eyes traveled down the length of your body. He stared at the exposed area of your neck before forcing himself to look back at you, his jaw ticking.

“Perhaps after our marriage ceremony.” With that, Aemond gave a curt bow, mumbling “My Lady,” before turning around and leaving — presumably to his own chambers.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and shut the door. You hadn’t expected Aemond to say such a thing — maybe his brother, but not him!

Your handmaidens helped you get dressed for bed and you couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth in your stomach.

As you lay in bed, listening to the sound of the sea — you had insisted to keep the shutters of the window nearest your bed open and one of your handmaidens reluctantly did so, lecturing you about how it would be a terrible thing if you got sick the night before your wedding — your thoughts drifted back to Aemond. You wish he had come into your chambers.

The next morning, you had awoken to terrible news. One of your handmaidens — Aimya — was dead. Her corpse was found in one of the halls. Your handmaidens said that Otto Hightower claimed that given the girl’s pale skin, she must have picked up a sickness. They weren’t allowed to see the body and had no confirmation that this was true.

You had hoped the marriage ceremony would be canceled because of this, but of course, nobody cared for the death of a random dornish girl. Nobody except for you and the other handmaidens.

Over the years, you had all become very close to each other, and her death was like a ship wrecking when it was close to land. The night before your wedding! If you didn’t know any better, you would have taken her death as a warning.

Your handmaiden — Brise, a woman a few years older than you with a sharp face — leads you to your vanity and has you strip out of your nightgown. Your other handmaiden — Miana, a young girl with rosy cheeks — untangling your hair with a shaky hand as you sat atop your vanity stool, naked and shivering.

Brise shut the window before grabbing your wedding robes. After Miana was done, you stood up, facing the older woman. She held the traditional Targaryen wedding robes.

How disappointing. You had always thought your wedding would be an extravagant thing, but it seems not.

“Aimya seemed fine. I-I didn’t think…” Miana broke out into a sob.

Brise shook her head as she helped you into your clothing. “I don’t trust these Targaryens,” she said the name with such disdain that you couldn’t help but look at her surprised.

“That is my betrothed’s family you are speaking about,” you say as Brise finishes tying the front of the robe.

Miana grabbed the headpiece, but was shaking so much that Brise grabbed it out of the young girl's hands and placed it atop your head instead.

“My apologies, My Lady.” But you knew Brise, and you knew she wasn’t sorry at all. You decide not to dwell on it and begin your trip out of the castle.

You stand face to face with Aemond, your expression one of pain as he cuts into your palm. You bite into your covered bottom lip to silence any sound of pain that would try to leave you.

Aemond’s own hand is bloody, as you had cut into it first and you can feel it on your palm as you press it against his. The blood doesn’t do much to hide the lack of warmth in his body, but you brush it off to it just being a reaction to the cold of the Island that is Dragonstone.

An older man wraps a cloth around your hands and you watch as your blood — now mixed with Aemond’s — drips into the cup. You hear the man say some words in Valyrian, but you don’t understand any of it.

Soon, you are drinking out of the chalice. You take a small sip, the heavy taste of copper now on your tongue. You hand it over to Aemond, and he holds your gaze as he drinks the rest of your shared blood.

Then, you both kiss. It’s a quick thing, and you are aware of the eyes of Aemond’s family watching you.

Hours later, you are in Aemond’s chambers. You suppose you’ll be returning to King's Landing very soon.

You sit on the edge of his bed, anxiously fiddling with your fingers as Aemond walks over to you.

Gently, he takes off your headpiece and places it on the side table. Using one cold finger, Aemond places it under your chin, forcing you to look into his purple eye.

You’re captivated. You are sure you will never in your lifetime see anyone that looks like Aemond. Sure, they others have purple eyes, and white hair. But Aemond is unique, with his sharp features, and one eye.

“There is no need to be nervous,” Aemond reassured you. His fingers trail down your neck, to your pulse, gently pressing them there. “Wife.”

You watch as Aemond takes in a sharp breath at the feeling of you, and he quickly pulls his hand away.

Your husband sits down on the bed next to you.

“We need not do this tonight if you don’t wish for it,” he says, surprising you.

You shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you speak, “No.. I want to, Husband.”

Aemond lets out a harsh breath out of his nose and nods. “Very well.”

Gently, Aemond reached out, cupping your cheek and forcing you to look at him. He presses his lips to yours, and for some reason he still tastes of copper.

His hands find their way to the ties of your robe and undo them. He pulls away from your lips and pushes down your clothing, leaving it on the floor.

Aemond looks down at you, and you feel your nipples harden very quickly.

Gently, Aemond pushes you down on the bed, so that you are laying with your back flat against it, your head resting on one of the soft pillows.

He rests one of his hands on your hips, and the other — the scarred one — trails down to your breasts. Aemond presses his palm atop the left side of your chest, almost like he’s trying to feel your heartbeat. When he’s satisfied, Aemond brings his fingers to your nipples. He tugs on your nub and you let out a soft gasp.

His attention is instantly brought back to your mouth and he presses his lips to yours. It’s very different from your first kiss when you were getting married. This one is rough, like he’s trying to consume you.

His fingers dig into your breast — so much so that it’s starting to hurt. You let out a small mewl, and Aemond instantly lets go of your lips and breast.

Slowly, Aemond kisses down your chest, and stomach, until he is at your hips.

Aemond undos the ties of his own robes, and drops the garment onto the floor.

He spreads your legs and presses a small kiss to your inner thigh, “So pretty.”

You let out a small, pleased, sigh. “Husband..”

Aemond brings his lips back to your thighs, and brushes his lips against them. Using his cold hands, Aemond holds onto your hips, pressing them down to the mattress. You shiver at his touch, and when he licks at your thigh, you feel small tingles spread through your body.

Your eyes flutter shut, and that’s when you feel it. Something sharp presses into you and your eyes shoot open. You wriggle in Aemond’s grip, but feel his pale hands pin you down. All you can see is the white of his head as you look down at him.

You let out a small cry, confused. “A-Aemond.. What are you…!”

Aemond’s lips finally release the hold they had on your thigh, and when he looks up at you, your eyes land on his bloody mouth.

Before you can even do anything, Aemond lets go of your hips and instead crawls over you, his lithe frame atop of you. Using one hand, Aemond grabs ahold of your wrists and pins them over your head. His other hand grabs your jaw and pushes it to the side, revealing your neck.

Aemond presses his nose to your neck, taking in your scent. His eyes flutter shut and you hiss in pain as he bites into your flesh.

Your legs kick at Aemond, but it doesn’t deter him.

Soon enough, you run out of energy and cease your struggling. You quiver under Aemond, and tears run down your cheeks.

Just when you’re on the brink of death, Aemond pulls away, pressing a wet kiss to the area he just bit.

Aemond lets go of your wrists, but still holds onto your jaw, though his grip has loosened.

Your eyes flutter open, your vision blurry.

Aemond bites into his own wrist, sucking up a considerable amount of blood, before pulling away.

Aemond presses his lips to yours, and forces you to drink in the mix of your’s and Aemond’s blood. Some blood escapes you and Aemond’s mouth and trickles down your cheeks.

Aemond pulls away after what feels like an eternity. You take in big gulps of air, your lungs burning.

A warmth runs through your body before being replaced with a coldness. It feels like you're freezing. Aemond kisses at your tears before pressing his lips to your bloody cheeks. He coos against them, feeling their warmth turn cool, “I know this is now what you were expecting, wife, but that was not the end. Perhaps…” he trails off.  Aemond pulls away, letting go of your wrists. His eye looks down at your naked body, and despite it all, you feel a heat spreading through you. “After our marriage ceremony.”

a/n: Wrote this in celebration for season 2 of hotd, though this was written a few days before it came out! divider creds: @saradika

[multific]

You Choose Me

Aemond Targaryen x Vampire!Reader

Summary: Aemond dreamed of the perfect wife. A sweet woman who would love him. Even when he seems to have got it, he still has his type.

Why could he not see you in the mirror?

Why was he the only one visible?

What kind of sorcery was this?

He had never seen such before. 

He let go of you almost immediately.

But you stood right in front of him. 

Then he looked back at the mirror, you followed his eyes, not seeing your reflection in the mirror was nothing new for you.

But for him, it was extraordinary.

"What are you?" he asked with a low voice.

"Your wife," you replied with such ease, stating the fact.

He looked at you so differently. 

When he entered the room, he looked excited and happy. Then, he asked you for a dance.

You were happy to dance with him until he noticed you in the mirror or rather, your lack thereof.

"No. You are not. What have you done to her?!" he sounded so angry. 

But you just smiled.

"I always knew your reaction would be like this. I told myself you wouldn't care, but I guess I always knew deep down that you would be scared."

"Scared? I am far from scared, you imitation. I am mad! Where is my wife?"

"Aemond, it is me, I can assure you."

"What are you?" this question often scared you. Admitting out loud was not your issue, it was rather the consequences. 

"I was always a creature of darkness even if you saw me as someone from the light. I told you when we met, that I am not the innocent little woman you see in me or wish to." his eyes softened. 

"I suppose I always knew deep down that you are different I just choose to ignore it."

"You love me as I am, and I love you as you are," you said and offered him a kind smile.

“My sweet wife, a creature of darkness.” He smiled at himself almost laughing at the fact. 

"You choose me. Out of all the women presented to you. You choose me, My Prince." 

It was true, he had a room full of women, noble women from all over Westeros and yet, his eye landed on you.

He wanted you.

House of the Dragon Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[sapphiremusings]

bride | vampire!aemond targaryen

cw: explicit smut, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), dubcon, loss of virginity, breeding kink, blood drinking

Only the light from the full moon shines down between branches and leaves, illuminating her way as she walks through the forest rarely traveled. She doesn’t know how she got here, still in her shift and robe that has been thrown over her shoulders half-heartedly, the forest floor crunching underneath her slippers, yet an unknown force seemingly presses her forward. Her mind is in a daze, heart thrumming against her chest sporadically and her ears feeling as if they are under water, and through her vision is a fog that refuses to leave, no matter how many times she rubs her eyes. Up ahead, through the heavy brush, sits the abandoned castle that was once called Harrenhal, an accursed place in history. Steadily, she makes her way towards it.

Harrenhal is a mighty fortress, once home to many great houses of Westeros, all in which were struck down by unforeseen tragedies. Whispers of its twisting halls being cursed, haunted by those that died within, scattered throughout the Riverlands, and all along Westeros, until the castle was abandoned. Now, it sits alone, stone burned dark from the days when dragons ruled the skies and their riders sat on the old Iron Throne.

Centuries have passed since then, yet Harrenhal remains the same, merely overgrown in its shrubbery and the vines that trail up its walls. The steady rhythm of her heart begins to speed up as she walks through the courtyard, eyes averting away from the blood stained ground, up towards a window at the very top of the castle, where a single light shines. Like a moth to a flame, she gravitates towards it.

Inside, it’s dark, and she finds herself walking through cobwebs, past open windows that let the cold air in, and up a large number of stairs, until finally, the lit room sits at the end of the hallway. Slowly, her footsteps creek along the floor, her spine tingling at the whisper that enters her ears and swells within her head; “Come to me.”

Her fingers reach out to touch the ancient wood of the door, which sits open just a crack, its hinges squeaking as it opens fully beneath her push. The room is lit by what seems to be a hundred candles, scattered around and perched on almost every surface, including the floor. A large window draws her attention, and standing in front of it, a tall figure, as still as a statue.

He towers over her, even from her spot by the door, lean and strong in his posture. A sheath of silver hair gleams down his back, so beautiful and shiny that it looks like silk, and her hands itch to reach out and run their fingers through the long strands. Slowly, he cocks his head to the side, and her breath hitches as his side profile comes into view among the shadows.

“You’ve finally made it,” he muses, all strong nose and smirking lips, stained the color of roses. Suddenly, he turns, facing her stunned figure. He hums, head tilted. “Come now, bride.”

She thinks he is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. Even with a scar that runs down the left side of his face, a glimmering sapphire within his missing eye’s socket. His other eye is an alluring shade of violet, though when he turns slightly, it looks almost red. He has a strong jaw and chin, skin porcelain and without color. He looks like a god.

He seems amused by her tied tongue, watching patiently as she tries to form a sentence. When she does, it comes out in a whisper. “Who are you?”

Quickly, so much so that her head spins and she stumbles back, he stands before her, close enough that she can touch him if she merely lifts her hand. He hums, his own hand coming up to run a finger down her cheek, the sharpened nail leaving a small streak of red on the flushed skin. His single eye studies her features, thumb resting under her chin as he tilts her head back, her lips agape. He smiles.

“My name…” he pauses, dipping his head lower, his cold breath fanning across her face, “is Aemond, and I have waited a millenia for you, ābrazȳrys.” (Wife).

The strange word echoed around in her head, and she knew it for High Valyrian, the old language of the dragonlords that once ruled over Westeros with fire and blood, hailed from the kingdom of Old Valyria. Her father is a scholar, one with an interest in history, and she had grown up learning about the years before, from before there were even the Seven Kingdoms. Tales of forest children and the First Men, of the Andals and the ice creatures, were all stories she was told at bedtime.

And then there is his name. Aemond. Another Valyrian name, one she had only heard once. Centuries ago, the ruling House Targaryen was torn to shreds when kin began to fight kin, and their dragons danced among a burning sky. There had been a particular prince that had caught her eye, a one-eyed kinslayer who rode the largest dragon in the world. When the war ended, the cruel Targaryen prince had vanished, and rumors swirled in his wake. Most believe he had succumbed to his uncle, a rogue prince who had a fiery vengeance. Some wonder about his paramour, a so-called witch that had lived in the same abandoned castle she was standing in now.

Her mind reeled over the possibilities. Could he be the long lost prince? After all this time? She knows it is not possible, for too much time has passed, yet he stands before her all the same. Cautiously, she reaches her hand out, resting it against his chest, breath catching within her throat at the stillness beneath his ribs.

He isn't breathing. His heart isn’t beating. It is as if he is a statue, carved from stone.

He gazes down at her, curious. Her voice comes out in a stutter. “H-how…? I don’t understand.”

His other hand encircles her own, pressing it tighter against him, eye fluttering closed as he begins to trace it up his chest, bringing it to his nose. He inhales, nose pressed to her wrist, pulse pounding under a web of blue veins. Her own eyes threaten to close, overwhelmed at the feeling of warmth that overcomes her, traveling from her head to the pit of her stomach, where it goes to rest between her quivering thighs.

He presses his lips to the same spot, opening his eye to peer up at her flushed expression. “You smell so sweet, my love.”

Her head spins, and she sucks in a sharp breath as he begins to kiss down the length of her arm, the silk sleeve of her robe lifting to rest in the crook of her elbow. When his lips reach the fabric, he moves to her shoulder, which the robe has fallen down from, leaving the bare skin exposed. At the nape of her neck, his tongue, surprisingly hot, darts out to lick at her pulse.

“Please,” she murmurs, head tilting to the side and her hands reaching out to grab at his tunic, pulling him closer.

“I am never letting you go, dōna riña,” Aemond muses, moving to press his lips against her jaw. “No, you were born to be my bride, and I shall take what belongs to me.” (Sweet girl).

Cold hands ruck up the skirt of her nightgown, caressing the soft skin of her thighs, which are covered in goosebumps as they shiver in desire. Some part of her is ringing an alarm bell, for she doesn’t yet know how she got here nor why she is here, or even how it is possible for this man… this being, to be before her. He has no beating heart, no working lungs, and though she knows it’s unfathomable, he is a Targaryen prince. With long silver hair and a single purple eye, she believes this in her heart.

Her thoughts come to a halt as long fingers curl under her soaked garment, touching her in a way no man has. A quiet gasp escapes from between her lips, mind at a stand still as his finger dips down to circle at her slick hole, pressing slightly but not yet entering. Instead, he moves to gather more of her arousal between his digits, thumb going to a spot that makes her jump, heart pounding against her heaving chest.

Aemond shushes her, a sweet coo leaving his smirking lips as he watches her with a hooded eye. His thumb rubs circles against that same spot, and a tight coil begins to turn within her stomach, nipples hardened to sharp peaks as she pants.

He brings his face down, forehead resting against her own. “Do you taste as sweet as you smell, ābrazȳrys?”

When she lets out a whimper, knees buckling from beneath her, he lets out a deep groan. Suddenly, with a force and speed that makes her dizzy, he is laying her down on the large bed that is against the wall, the velvet blankets smooth against her hot skin. Her nightgown is bunched up around her hips, robe long forgotten on the stone floor, along with her slippers. He kneels before her, fingers under the band of her undergarments, which he practically rips off her, tearing them down her legs.

“A-Aemond,” she whines, wanton as she writhes atop a sea of red velvet.

His nose nuzzles between her thatch of curls, tongue darting out to lick up her essence, which coats her entirely. Her back arches, hips wiggling away as a broken moan leaves her lips, but he merely throws an arm over her stomach, pressing down and locking her in place. Another moan is ripped from her throat, hands reaching down to nestle in his long strands, fingers curling around them and tugging. A deep rumble is heard within his chest, vibrating against her cunt, which pulses in return.

His tongue is ravenous as he laps up her arousal, swirling around that sensitive spot that makes her toes curl, before moving down to dip into her clenching hole. She leaks even more there, thighs shaking around his head as he pushes his tongue in deeper, until his face is pressed fully onto her weeping cunt. He groans, thrusting the muscle in and out, before retracting and bringing his fingers up to take its place. When his tongue lays flat against her and his finger eases its way through her tight entrance, she nearly screams as her head seems to explode, body vibrating in pleasure as the tightly wound coil in her stomach snaps.

Another finger joins the first, pumping into her steadily as she comes, feeling as if she is floating above her own body. Aemond starts to speak, but the words don’t process as her head buzzes, dazed in a pleasure she has never felt before. Whatever he says, her body clenches at, moving on its own accord with no way of her stopping it and regaining control. When she finally comes down, he doesn’t stop, continuing to lap at her quivering cunt, fingers beginning to curl upwards inside her, searching for a spot that they find almost immediately.

“My sweet, sweet bride,” he grins, resting his head against her thigh, mouth covered in her slick. “I want to lick this pretty cunt every day now. You’ll let me, won’t you?”

She whimpers and moans, tears prickling the corners of her eyes as another wave of pleasure begins to wash over her. He seems pleased by this, eye wide as it flickers between his fingers that are buried deep inside her and her flushed face. “Sȳz riña.” (Good girl).

He finally removes his fingers after her second peak, digits coated in her juices, which he brings up to her lips. Without a word, she opens her mouth, tongue swirling around them as she sucks, the taste of herself causing her blood to heat.

Aemond seems dazed as he stares down at her, member straining against his leathers. The sight both frightens and arouses her, her own mind still in the clouds and seemingly not coming down anytime soon. Slowly, cautiously, she reaches a hand out towards him. He grabs it, laying a kiss on her wrist once more, before moving to grab at her shift. She doesn’t stop him as he pulls it off her, leaving her naked under him. The drafty air of the old room brushes against her skin, and she shivers, nipples hardened and body covered in goosebumps.

His head bends and he wraps his lips around her right bud, hand grabbing at her left breast and squeezing. He’s heavy against her naked frame, the cold leather of his clothing feeling pleasant pressed along her flushed skin. She feels sticky all over, so unbearably hot that she presses herself closer to his odd coldness. He hushes her softly, lifting his head from her bosom and capturing her lips with his own. It’s messy, a clashing of tongues and teeth, and his rigid member feels like a hot iron against her thigh. Dazedly, she runs the tip of her tongue against his front teeth, gasping when a dull pain throbs throughout the wet muscle.

Aemond pulls back sharply, purple eye now a deep red, matching the crimson blood that stains his plush lips. Two sharp canines protrude from the top of his mouth, glimmering under the candlelight. His eye is focused on her lips, which hide her bleeding tongue from his view, and with a groan, he presses back against her, his own tongue forcing its way into her mouth. He caresses the small cut, licking up the blood that seeps from the wound, hands grabbing ahold of her tightly.

With a sigh that almost sounds like a growl, he pulls away so suddenly, and in a blink of an eye, he stands before her naked. Her eyes trail over his figure, porcelain in color and seemingly carved from stone. The light from the moon and the scattered candles create daunting shadows along his form, and through the fog of her mind, she realizes that she wants nothing more than to touch him. She sits up, reaching her hands out towards him, and he complies with her silent request, leaning down to allow her to explore. He watches with a curious eye, still red in color, as her fingers dance along his shoulders and down his chest, brushing over his pink nipples and his lean muscles.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmurs, bringing her lips to kiss the spot where his heart should rest, holding her breath when no heartbeat is felt.

As if reading her thoughts, he pushes her back down against the bed, and her eyes are immediately drawn to between his thighs. A twinge of fear rushes through her at the sight of his hardened cock, its head flushed pink with thick veins that curl up its side. She has never seen one before, still a maiden, waiting for her father to betroth her to whichever man he deems worthy. But she feels as if Aemond’s is too large.

His lips curl into a smirk at her wide eyed gaze, bringing himself forward to lean over her, his silver hair falling around them like a curtain. His body, still cold and heavy against her, like a stone wall. She tenses as his hand goes between them, grasping his member in his palm and lining himself up against her entrance. Once again, his gaze is dark, brows furrowed and jaw tense as he runs the tip up and down her leaking seam, nudging that special spot that makes her spine jolt.

“You are mine, riñītsos. Mine to claim, mine to fuck,” he hisses as his tip begins to press into her tight hole, arms straining to hold himself above her shaking frame. “Mine to breed. Kesan dōrī ivestragī jā.” (Little one), (I will never let you go).

A broken sob leaves her lips as he pushes forward, a sharp pain settling deep between her legs, which only grows the farther he goes inside her. She begins to shake her head, pushing her palms against his shoulders with a moan. “It’s too big… it won’t fit!”

“Shhh,” he hushes her sweetly, lips coming to kiss along her ruddy cheeks. “Don’t worry, dōna riña. I’ll make it fit. You were made for this… for me.”

Her vision is clouded as she nuzzles her face in the crook of his neck, wrapping herself around him and clinging onto him as the pain slowly ebbs away, turning into something entirely different. When he’s sat completely inside her, a wanton moan leaves her lips at the fullness, her head vibrating as she gasps up at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath among the surging pleasure that begins to make its way through every nerve. Her hips begin to cant upwards, the slickness of her arousal helping her to slide against his cock, her fingers gripping tightly to strands of his hair.

“Please…” she whines, nearly sobbing.

He hums, lifting himself up as he begins to move his hips, creating a steady rhythm as his hands grab ahold of her waist. She is tiny below him, so much so that he can see the outline of his cock in her stomach, a sight that makes him groan and speed up, balls tightening in pleasure as her wet heat squeezes him. He eyes her thundering pulse at the base of her neck, his fangs beginning to ache and his throat going dry. His thrusts grow harsher, fingers digging into her flesh as she cries out beneath him.

“Kostagon nyke angogon ao, ābrazȳrys? Kessa ao ivestragī aōha valzȳrys mōzugon hen ao?” (Can I bite you, wife? Will you let your husband drink from you?)

His words come out in a mix between whiny and growling, teeth gritting as he leans down towards her open neck. Though she doesn’t quite understand what he said, only knowing a few words in Valyrian, the neediness in his tone has her back arching, and she greedily pulls him closer. Some submissive part of her wants nothing more than to please him, to give him all he desires and more. She gasps out a small “please.”

He nuzzles his nose under her jaw, rubbing against her pulse as his hips slow down, his thirst growing immensely. He brushes the tips of his fangs against her vein, thrusting his cock deep inside her, before biting down, eye rolling to the back of his head as warm blood spills down into his mouth. He moans, hips stuttering, pulling her as close as he can until they are flushed against each other, listening to her whimpers. She scratches her nails down his back, her cunt pulsing around his heavy cock as her blood flows from her vein, dizzy in her pleasure and loss of blood.

She tastes of the finest ambrosia, rich against his tongue and tingling his tastebuds, and his cock seems to swell in size as he cradles her in his arms, fangs imbedded into her neck. Her vision blurs, the rising wave of her arousal coming to a peak, and she nearly screams out as his hand slides between their stuck bodies, fingers circling at the throbbing bud at the apex of her cunt. His cockhead pounds steadily against a rough patch within in, and he doesn’t let up on his assault as the wave crashes over her, drowning her. She gasps for air, everything silent except for the beating of her heart and the slurping of Aemond’s tongue lapping at her lifesource.

“Sȳz riña,” his own peak begins to wash over him, lips murmuring against her neck and between sips of blood. “Iksā vok. Ñuha vok ābrazȳrys.” (You are perfect. My perfect wife).

With one last groan, he fills her with his seed, taking one last gulp of her before ripping himself away, mouth open against her wound as he pants. His tongue begins to lick at the two points, saliva coating them and slowly healing the marred skin. She is barely awake beneath him, exhausted from her pleasure, yet the sound of his voice and the feeling of his seed hot against her womb makes her throb all over again. She leaves wet kisses along his shoulders and chest, relishing in the feeling of him pressed against her, sweaty in the aftermath of their love making.

Slowly, he pulls out of her, cock only slightly soft, ready for another round. He feels as if he could spend an eternity between her legs, pounding into her tight, wet cunt and breeding her over and over again. For a moment, he has a thought to chain her to this very bed, his obedient little bride. He wants to lap at her sweet blood and lick up the essence of her, until every part of her is claimed. When his seed begins to seep out of her used hole, he brings two fingers to plug into her, refusing to let any of himself leave her. He smiles at her adoring expression.

“Will you marry me now, my lord?”

Aemond brings his coated fingers to her lips for the second time that night, humming in delight when she sucks on them, tongue swirling around and licking up every last drop of their combined arousal.

“Yes, my love. And when the time is right, I will turn you into my eternal bride.”

[undertheorangetree]

La Petite Mort (Ptolemaea)

Summary- Aemond has waited generations for this moment and he will not let it slip through his fingers.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ DDDNE. DUBCON. NSFW. Female reader. Dark Aemond. Blood. Gore. Kidnapping. Obsessive behaviour. Vampire mind control? Reincarnation. Biting. Vampire venom makes you horny. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Overstimulation. Technically character death. This is unhinged.

Author’s Note- It’s a spooky season special and I’m so nervous about this one besties. I know that vampire Aemond is a whole thing but it’s a thing for a reason that’s just his vibe. This is darker than usual so plz read the warnings and read at your own risk. Also special thanks to @aegonx for beta-ing for me ilysm🫶🏼The rest is on AO3 link belowww

dividers by me lmao

She knows she's screwed when her car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, but her phone battery dying all but confirms it.

Throwing it into the passenger seat with a guttural sigh, she drops her head into her hands and fights the urge to start crying in frustration. She knew that traveling at night was a bad idea but she had managed to talk herself out of her worries, convincing herself that she would be able to make good time with so few cars on the road. She regrets it now, stranded on the shoulder of some half abandoned backroad, no other people or cars in sight. The rain is coming down in buckets, heavy enough that she's surprised that it hasn't yet flooded the street, raindrops pounding on the roof of her car like a drum.

There isn't so much as a porch light back here. Nothing but heavy forest that makes her feel as if she is lost in time and she is sure the longer she is alone, the more likely her mind is to play tricks on her.

She flicks on her hazard lights as she tries to decide what best to do. Staying in her car seems unsafe somehow, stuck on the shoulder of the road beside a corner. Though the street is empty now, another car will show up at some point and she can already see the inevitable car crash in her mind's eye. But leaving the safety of her car seems just as bad.

She doesn't know what's in the surrounding woods and with visibility as bad as it is now, with the rain coming down and the moon just barely able to provide some semblance of light, there is no truly safe option.

There are no nearby homes. No other cars. No payphones or a way to charge her own phone. She is completely and hopelessly stuck.

Though she knows it's pointless, she still reaches for her phone, holding down on the power button in vain. The empty battery graphic flashes up at her, the charging cable beneath it feeling almost mocking now and grunts angrily, throwing it to the side again. But just as she is about to resign herself to a night of sleeping in her car until morning, there is a flash of headlights in her rearview mirror. She pokes her head up, eyebrows furrowed as she turns and watches a car slow until their window is equal to hers, the glass rolling down.

A man's face greets her, one that seems to be about her age. His face is contorted with vague concern as he looks at her, an eyepatch concealing a third of his face. He has a kind of air about him, regal and almost ethereal to the point where it's almost unsettling. It's nearly otherworldly in a way that almost feels... wrong.

Looking at him, she feels a primal lurch in her stomach, as if the man before her isn't quite right. It's no wonder she feels that way, with his near flawless skin and silver hair that must cost a fortune to dye. That's likely no problem, with how expensive his car looks. She thinks it must cost at least four times her own but she's thankful for just how ancient her car is now, rolling the manual crank until there is a large enough crack for her to speak, the rain immediately splattering inside and wetting both her door and face.

"Car trouble?" he asks and she forces a polite smile despite her irritation at her predicament.

"Unfortunately. Do you know if there's a gas station nearby?"

She had already been to a gas station this evening, less than an hour ago. Though her car had shown no signs of betrayal when she had been filling her gas tank, she thinks that it may be too far to walk to now.

The concern on his face morphs into sympathy. "None that will be open so late. Do you know what's wrong with it?"

She gives a frustrated shake of her head. "No idea. It was completely fine and then it just started sputtering and crapped out."

"Have you called a tow truck yet?"

The question makes her pause. As polite as this man has been thus far, she has no interest in informing him that her phone is dead. And though he has given her no reason to think otherwise, his line of questioning is beginning to border on a few too many to be seen as simple concern for a stranger. She wants to believe that is all it is but he's looking at her a little too earnestly for her to ignore, his eyes following her every move as if the rain threatens to shield his view.

"Not yet. I was going to try some friends first, try to save some money. They don't live far from here so I shouldn't have to wait long."

That’s a boldfaced lie but he doesn’t need to know that.

"I wouldn't leave your car here for long if I were you," he warns, turning to look over his shoulder toward the corner. "It would be best to call a tow truck to really save yourself some money. You'll have a couple thousand in damages if you leave it here."

Read the rest here

[janovavalen]

what are you .°୭̥ ❁ ˎˊ˗ au! aegon targaryen x fem!reader

summary: a night out was what it started as but when it ended she was a different person, a different thing.

warnings: drinking, blood mentions, vampire beings; smut: oral (f received), p in v, overstimulation—might seemed rushed but it’s meant to feel like that

word count: 3k

y/n never went out much, but when she did she went all out. her friend had invited her to her anniversary party for working with the very well known singer as his manager. she loved her job and would do nothing to change it.

y/n worked with her parents who are known for being doctors, their own hospital and all. she never enjoyed it however but she did whatever she needed to pay the bills.

‘happy anniversary lydia!’ y/n yelled as she sipped some of her wine, lydia smiled sweetly as y/n gave her a kiss on the cheek—‘aw thank you baby! it’s so surreal, i wouldn’t do anything to change it. and your to thank for it all’ she cooed as y/n rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless.

y/n had introduced her to the job position wanted sign on instagram and helped her get the job, the singer she works for so happened to be known within her families hospital business by being in and out of them at his young age.

‘no no, that was all your talent to blame, i only pushed you a little to get it’ y/n commented while taking another sip of her drink, her friend shook her head and leaned into her side, everyone else that was invited had already been out on the dance floor, y/n herself didn’t really want to do that so stayed next to her friend.

‘hey not to freak you out but that platinum blonde over there had been eyeing you down since we got here’ lydia commented, y/n raided a eyebrow and looked out in the dance floor to see not one but three platinum blondes at a circle table as they drank, one a girl with long hair and a boy with long hair as well, y/n was a bit jealous of how healthy it looked.

looking a bit harder y/n noticed the one with shoulder length hair looked her up and down with a small smirk, she grew nervous and turned away.

‘oh god..he need to stop’ she whined while her friend laughed—‘what? why! i’d say he’s your type from head to toe’ lydia reminded.

‘no no that’s exactly why he needs to stop! my top is beyond toxic and from the looks of it he’d leave me on read after a one night stand if i were pregnant with his baby’ she held her head in her hands with her eyes covered as lydia busted out laughing.

‘y/n! stop it! just have fun, your in your twenties and it’s time to enjoy your life, you work your ass off everyday and you need a good one night stand anyways’ lydia reminded, y/n scoffed with a grin while lydia laughed.

looking over to see him still looking at her she smiled a bit and looked away; making her wine move around the cup with the slight movement of her wrist, she groaned at the thought of actually giving in.

just as she was about to do it she heard someone clearing their throat—‘excause me, but can i have this dance with her?’ she heard a man’s voice. looking up to see the platinum blonde standing next to their table, lydia gasped a little and turned to y/n giving her one last smile and squeezed on the arm for good luck.

‘she’s all yours’ she commented before getting up to leave. y/n was definitely going to scold her for that later, looking up and smiling a bit, he did the same, holding his hand out for her to grab cautiously.

it was a strange thing but the first thing she realized about him was his piercing gaze that lured her into him and freezing cold hands. she could’ve sworn she touched ice when touching his hand.

getting to the dance floor that seemed to be exactly into the middle of the floor, the people surrounded them in their own worlds, making out, laughing, drunk, high on whatever drug they’ve taken that night, and mindless of the fact they had work tomorrow, after all it was thursday night almost friday morning of eleven thirty.

his hand on her waist, and the other holding her hand, hers on his shoulder and the other in his own as well.

‘i just have to say your extremely beautiful, and sexy’ oh; what formal words and phrases to use for a woman you’ve never met. she smiled a bit and hummed—‘thank you very much, your very alluring and cold’ she said back with a slight joke.

he chucked a bit and shrugged.

‘low blood since birth i suppose, you seem to be full of it; very warm, and tan’ he said, she didn’t know if it were her lips or her neck he’d been staring at; but for once she’d rather it be her boobs.

‘so, what do you do for work?’ she wondered, trying to make some sort of talk or conversation, the awkward silence between the two with the only thing being peoples life and music surrounding them.

‘work in the day, get to get free at night. work for the day club on fourth’ he said while turning her around like some princess.

‘hm, i think i've heard of it. my parents went to it once or twice but only for medical reasons. are you their assistant or something?’ she wondered, hoping she could probably find out his name.

‘no i’m the son of the head owners, aegon. my brother and sister over their aemond and helaena’ he said as if it were nothing at all.

aegon ? helaena, and aemond…targaryens? she was in the distance of targaryen royalty basically. y/n always envied them sometimes and the whole city, basically the world.

‘a—aegon targaryen?’

‘ah yes, you’ve heard of me, glad to hear. i’ve heard about you as well, your parents mostly but you yea. y/n l/n yes?’ he said, smiling a bit, she smiled back a bit nervous but was hesitant.

‘yeah, they’re known for they’re work i suppose’ she grinned. he smiled back and started to look at her lips or neck again while she grew nervous.

‘if you want to kiss me just do it—‘

just as she said that he practically threw himself at her, his lips on hers and the kiss wet, violent and just what y/n liked. she hummed in his mouth as his lips and tongue fell over her lips and in them, their tongues fighting for dominance. she let his kiss travel to her neck where she almost moaned at the presser of what felt like his teeth grazing her neck.

‘come to my place, i won’t let you down i promise’ he mumbled into her ear, moaning as he did so along with a gentle kiss on her earlobe, she nodded her head.

pulling her out of the building and what seemed to be a taxi already waiting for them, the two getting in and kia lips finding hers quickly, the taxi driver didn’t even ask where to, he just started driving off immediately. she didn’t even bother to wonder.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🧛　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

when they got to his place, it looked like a haunted castle, the brick walls all over, it stood on a large mountain and just to get to the front door was a whole hike up. y/n liked the fact she didn’t have to climb to get to her house but also found it pretty, it has a dark aura that she enjoyed. it gave it character.

‘what a lovely home’ she complimented while he only shrugged. pushing open the large dark wooden doors he was greeted by the form door.

‘ignore them, my parents insist on having maids all over the house for no reason at all’ aegon mumbled. getting a cup of liquor that seemed to be waiting for him at the table in front of the door.

walking in she held whe small purse in front of her figure. looking around to the large steps in the middle of the entrance, a large hallway and the light of a warm fire filling the spaces that were too dark to reach.

y/n noticed how the home was filled with dark curtains all through. she didn’t want to comment much or think about it, everyone had their likes and dislikes on the sun.

walking up the stairs and getting to the top, a large hallway leading down to his room. the two entering y/n was suddenly brought to his lips ok need once more. humming as his hand squeezed her thighs, she let him pick her up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

aegon’s hands on both of y/n’s thighs to support her as they kissed deeply, her hands rested on both sides of his neck. as she felt him walk to the fire place with a fuzzy blanket set on the floor she felt her back being laid down gently, her legs still wrapped around his as she felt him gently push himself against her.

‘shit…this is so bad’ he mumbled into her neck as he kissed down to her breasts, then made his way down to her stomach. pushing up the tight white button up shirt she was wearing she moaned when he began to suck on her skin, moving down and pushing the skirt she was wearing up and out of his way.

‘fuck’ she whispered, her hands finding way to his head, pulling his white hair as he moaned at this. her body was beyond warm and she could feel his cold touch all over her body that stung her like a seething fire.

her heat begging to be paid attention to was granted then he kissed it softly, moaning while they kept eye contact he let his lips wrap around her and began to eat like he’s ever eaten before, moaning out as she let her legs grow weak but tried to keep them wide for him, his hand resting on her thigh while pulling her leg up and over his shoulder.

groaning into he she moaned and held his hand, intertwining with his cold one. as she felt her climax he pulled away making her whine out in displeasure—‘w—what are you doing?’ she mumbled.

he smiled and pushed himself back up to her face, kissing her deeply and gently placing his two fingers into her cunt, she let her mouth drip open, his still set along hers as he smiled.

‘is that good? hm?’ he whispered. she nodded fastly with her eyebrows scrunched together. he could feel her climax and didn’t want that to happen, not yet at least.

‘shit…oh my god—yes’ she whined out, her voice getting higher and higher—‘don’t cum yet’ he told her and she whined, placing his hand down and unbuttoning his pants, he pumped husnelf a few times before entering her, she gasped but was in bliss.

her body warm and soft, her hand going to his back, scratching it ever so lightly while he pounded into her. first it was soft but then it was rough, fast..almost at a inhuman speed but she didn’t care, he must of had crazy stamina—‘fuck! fuck!’ she yelled as he moaned, picking her up while his strength kept her moving on him.

pushing her against the wall she moaned sweetly as he groaned into her neck, wrapping his hand around her throat and kissing her lips hard, she hummed at the kiss.

she didn’t know when it ended or when it started up again, but the next thing she knew, she was on the bed, the wall; cold on her back, the floor once more and the table that sat in the middle of his room. the two of them cumming numerous times over and over, her hair messy and her body marked with purple and red highlights of his lips that sucked hers.

laying in the bed when her stomach on the soft sheets and the cover lightly wrapped around her lower back. his hand was set against her as well as they both slept soundly. y/n however felt a strange pain in her neck that tempted her away.

groaning and getting up slowly to not wake up aegon. y/n searched for her underwear and a shirt, putting the two on and leaving.

she made her way out and down the hall, her hand touching the walls to find her way along with the intense headache that pounded against her skull.

finally finding what seemed like a bathroom, she pushed the door open and turned on the light. looking into the mirror and seeing, blood.

‘the fuck?’ y/n mumbled. was this guy into kinky shit she didn’t know of and why didn’t she feel it a while ago? leaning into the mirror she touched it slightly, her hand shaking and gasping to see two large holes on the side of her neck.

‘oh god’ she whispered.

‘he’s done it again’ a voice spoke. screaming and turning around she saw the long haired boy from the bar, aemond. he was standing near the door with a darkened gaze—‘what?’ y/n started to step back into the sink hoping for some type of space between the two.

he signed and stepped closer—‘he was always reckless i supposed. liked to play with his food’ aemond mumbled. she gasped out and almost fell but he rolled his eyes, not entertained at all, he moved out the way letting her down the hall.

her head was spinning, what was going on? the small ladies lights made her beyond dizzy, it looked like she was falling down a rabbit hole.

her hands on the walls to steady her body, she screamed when aemond was in front of her once more, turning in disbelief at the fact he was once far behind her.

‘what is going on? please just let me go home please!’ she yelled, begging. he tsked and shook his head.

‘i’m afraid that’s not possible, sweet thing. you’ll have to see for yourself soon enough’ screaming when she felt hands on her back she turned to see helaena, she had a look of sorrow on her face.

whimpering when helaena let her cold hand touch her face she felt some sort of calm wash over her, her body beginning to feel tired, her eyes dropping.

‘hm, sweet thing…such a frail life, taken from your hands by me who has no idea of what it is to live’ she whispers, her voice was sweet, loving, angelic. y/n would assume she had children by the way she handled y/n.

all a sudden her body gave in on itself and she fell asleep, the last thing she saw before falling was helaena catching her in her arms.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🧛　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

waking up with the sound of yelling she groaned and let her eyes open. looking at the blurry figures of a man and woman and on the other side of the bed aegon.

the woman had long beautiful red hair and the man shoulder length blonde, they much he his parents—‘how could you be so reckless! so stupid to do this to her!’ the woman yelled, pointing at y/n who was currently suffering a headache that seemed to not end, and a strange hunger.

‘how would i know she’d turn that fast! usually i have time, five hours!’ aegon whined as he placed his hand on his head in stress, she was confused again.

his meal? not knowing what life it? turn? y/n groaned and it got the attention of the people. their heads turning to her as she sat up—‘oh, honey please. set down and rest—‘

‘no i must leave..my mother is expecting me—‘

‘no no lay down, sleep..we’ll get you some tea and medicine for your headache, yes?’ the woman pressed her hand on y/n’s shoulder, gently pushing her to the bed and soon her cheek for comfort.

‘what? what’s going on? why can’t i leave?’ y/n mumbled.

‘we tend not to when it’s day out, you will be fine darling just you wait here’ the woman led aegon and his father out of the room, she felt a strange feeling in her stomach once more and winced in pain, her heart however, sadden at the fact aegon had left.

her body cold and shaking she placed a hand on her head and groaned again in pain. soon a knock rang through the room and hurting her head—‘yes?’ she whispered, the door pushing open to show a shaking woman.

she held the tea and a pill for her to take, y/n didn’t know how or why, but she could practically smell her from across the room. not like that however, like smell a sweet bitter smell, a metallic almost.

‘h-here you are, miss.’ the woman said. y/n didn’t know what came over her but she stood up slowly and made her way over to the woman.

‘the tea miss. alicent ordered you to take and the pill to help—ah!’ while she spoke y/n charged for her neck; biting into it and humming in delight, the warm liquid running down her throat and easing her headache and stomach pain, the woman falling down to her knees and the glass cup of tea in her hand breaking y/n held her shoulders and sucked her neck.

moaning when she was done she snapped back and gasped—‘what the fuck? what the fuck!’ y/n screamed while she backed away and fell on her butt.

the door pushing open slowly—‘i knew it, aegon you’ve done it!’ alicent yelled while slapping his shoulder making him wince.

she screamed and cried into her hands, what was going on? why was this happening now? why did it happen to her of all people…was she what she thought she was?

‘yes..you are what your thinking and no there’s no cure’ aegon mumbled while stepping over the maids body.

‘what…no—why? this can’t be happening!’ she cried while unbeknownst to her, her hair was growing white from the roots.

aegon felt bad, he knew the costs of sleeping with her but..he couldn’t help it. she looked like her so much.

‘it is..and i’m sorry it happened to you. but, it’ll be okay, you’ll be fed, and you’ll have me…if that helps—‘

‘why the hell would i want you!’ she yelled, crying into her hands once more.

he winched and looked away, not knowing what to do. he hated seeing people cry because he didn’t know what the hell to do—‘listen..you don’t know it now but things will change all around you, and you’ll need me sooner or later then you expect…’

‘why? why would i need you?’ she wondered, her eyes puffy from tears and her cheeks wet.

‘you’ll know in due time, my love’ he mumbled. his hand going through her mixed color of hair. she shook her head slightly and looked down only to see her hair; platinum hair on her shoulder .

‘what…’ she whispered, picking her hair between her fingers and shaking her head, letting her other hand go to the top of her head and moving all her hair to her shoulders.

‘is my hair…’

‘yes…a side effect’ he told her. she almost cried again but shook her head, turning to him—‘what else will change?’

looking to the side he named a few things, the only ones she highlighted was, couldn’t enter the sun or she’d burn, couldn’t see her reflection because she was dead, her body would be cold to the touch to others, her hair was white, she’d stay this age forever.

forever twenty two.

‘do we die at all? in any way?’ she wondered. he shook his head—‘only by the sun, to the heart or starved’ she nodded slightly and blinked.

‘and…how old are you anyway?’ she wondered.

‘three thousand and twenty two’ she tried not to show her shock but he was pretty sure he could she it, he laughed a bit and shrugged.

‘how did you turn?’

‘my sister, she was bitten by my brother and so on so fourth’ nodding in understanding, y/n would hate to turn her parents.

‘you can stay here…for your parents sake’ y/n looked over at him and nodded—‘wait can you read my mind? you did it back there not too long ago?’ y/n asked, he nodded and helped y/n stand.

‘helaena can control those by the touch, aemond can practically see what your afraid of and use it to his advantage by making you see things, i can read minds, my mother and father however..i don’t know’ y/n nodded at what he was saying as he sat her down on the bed.

‘you should rest…you’ll be in pain sometime soon, your teeth will come in and it will feel as though you are dying’ aegon felt bad beyond words, but all he could do was help and warn her along the way.

‘wait’ she whispered as he went to leave, her hand holing his. letting her pull him in she placed her hand on his cheek and leaned in, kissing him slightly.

it was wierd but she could see something, she could see herself? she could shed the two of them..but she looked different, wore different clothes and so did he.

pulling apart slowly aegon read what she was thinking and smiled—‘we’ll talk about it soon, in time’

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Klaus Mikaelson:

•Hybrids or Mate

•Touch Starved

•Wasp Song (Motionless in White)

•Voice of the Wolf

•Feeding

•Gift Giving

•Pouting

•Goth Girlfriend

•Love at First Scent?

•Harry Potter Marathon

•Sick Mate

•Yandere!Klaus

•Murder Spree

•Klaus the Chef

•Giving Klaus Gifts

•ADHD Brain

•Siblings

•Insomnia

•Leverage

•Spontaneous Trips

•Hogwarts:Student/Teacher (Mikaelsons)

Bucky Barnes:

•The Metal Arm

•Nightmares

•Chef!Bucky

•The Winter Soldier

Aemond Targaryen:

•Yandere!Aemond

[speechlessxx]

alluring. [vampire!aemond targaryen x reader]

this was a daydream i had. blame twilight.

this might possibly be a series? i dunno yet...

summary: she knew his secret...

warnings: vampires, twilight au, mentions of feeding, making out, outrageously short i apologize, bad writing.. oops.

She gasped as his cold lips pressed against her warm skin. He trailed kisses from her temple to her cheek just before he captured her lips in a searing kiss.

It was heated and passionate. It almost felt forbidden, which, in a way, made it, and him, all the more enticing… addicting.

She gasped his name against his lips as he used his strength to pull her onto his lap. Her thighs parted, capturing his waist between them and her hesitant hands reached for either side of his statuesque face.

Everything about him scared her but it allured her in a way that she couldn’t explain. His very being invited her. And though he had spent his existence ignoring each and every woman that threw themselves at him, it was only she who captured his attention, who drove him mad the way only she could.

He kissed her hungrily, but she felt as if he held back – as if he didn’t want to hurt her or lose control. And she understood why.

He tried to pull away, but with her hands cupping his sculpted cheeks, he didn’t get very far. He whispered her name against her lips, against her kiss. “Stop,” he said, but she was relentless.

He knew his strength and she felt it in his touch. But despite this, he didn’t push her away. He gently whispered her name again, this time pleading.

“It’s okay,” she said in a hushed tone, finally pulling away from his lips. With her hands still holding his head, she stared into his eye – the pupil swallowing the violet hue whole. He was holding his breath as he looked into hers. “It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t.

She saw him swallow and, in his eye, she saw the conflict. His desire for her and his need to protect her fought against each other, and she wasn’t sure which side would win.

“I’m not scared,” she told him though her trembling hands gave her away. “I know, okay? I know.”

He didn’t say anything as he fought his internal war. His hands sat at her waist, and he knew with a single move he could shatter her. He knew he was dangerous. He knew what he was… and so did she.

So why didn’t she care?

Why wasn’t she afraid?

She said his name again as she leaned in. He tilted his chin forward as if to capture her lips once more, but instead, she bared her neck to him. He said her name, sternly, angrily – as if he had been offended that she’d even consider this.

“I know,” she said again. “It’s okay.”

She shuddered as his cold lips pressed against the warm delicate skin of her neck. She felt his teeth graze the skin and she held her breath in anticipation.

“I can’t,” he told her.

“I trust you,” she said. Her tone more confident than before. “I’m not scared, Aemond.”

He could hear her heartbeat and see her pulse. His gentle hand cradled the side of her head as he felt a side of him subside as the other was victorious.

“You should be,” he answered, but he could no longer control himself as he sunk his fangs into her neck and allowed her warmth to consume him.

[mythicmanuscripts]

OMG I saw ur aegon x vampire reader post and the note below it. I seriously need a vampire Aemond x reader!!!

Ps: UR WRITING IS SO GOATED I BINGED READ ALL OF THEM😭

Aw thank you anon!!! So the previous vampire!Aemond ask I answered was about how the relationship with Aemond started and I think I now want to spend some time on the actual relationship itself?

Anyway, enjoy my random babble about vampire!Aemond and let me know if you lads have thoughts! This will be the last vampire!aemond ask I answer without much info, if you want more of this then just be sure to put some more info then just “vampire!aemond”

Anyway once again, subby vampire!aemond below the cut! There’s no real coherence in this answer I’m just babbling about this so get ready for chaos

So as we’ve established, vampire!aemond won’t drink from any other once he’s fed off you. He will not touch another’s blood, he’d rather starve.

Also, I love the idea that this marriage wasn’t actually arranged? Or maybe you do have an arranged marriage but it’s with someone else at the red keep and not Aemond and well… those plans have to change real quick because once Aemond gets a taste of you he’ll burn down the whole fucking kingdom if anyone tried to get with you.

Anyway, I think what’s most interesting about this whole idea is that Aemond would seem to be the one in charge with how he behaves but then the moment you speak he’s practically curling up at your feet. He’s SO protective over you, but he’s protective in the same way dog would be? He’s always with you, always standing just a little behind you and keeping a close eye on whoever you’re talking to, he’ll attack if he thinks someone might hurt you, but at the same time he’s just so… obedient? You speak and suddenly he’s looking at you like you hung the moon and all its stars and waiting for bated breath for what you will say to him.

He’s well aware that he needs you far more than you need him, and no matter how many times you try to tell him that’s not true it doesn’t matter he won’t be convinced otherwise. He knows he will never be entitled to your body, and so he will cherish every second you do give him.

Needless to say, he treats you SO well. It’s not just about the blood either, he just gets along so well with you and he loves being around you and even if you said he could never feed from you again, he’ll starve without complaint and only ask that he be allowed to spend his last days with you.

So yeah it’s definitely not just that feeds off you, but I also think that because he feeds from you there are some things he does to try and look after you as best he can.

For starters, you will NEVER go hungry. I like the idea that vampires don’t eat normal food, but he still hires a servant whose sole just is to feed you. Aemond always enjoys you’re getting enough of everything you need like iron and calcium and that you have a balanced diet. But it’s more than just that, he also pays very close attention to the foods you like and the foods that you don’t so that he can relay it back to the servant.

He’s also pedantic about ensuring you eat enough and at regular intervals. It’s usually very rare for a vampire to only feed off of one person because one person losing a reasonable amount of blood regularly can cause fatigue and iron deficiencies and so much more.

He knows exactly how lucky he is to have found you and so he will not allow his feeding to cause any negative side effects for you. It’s not uncommon to be a big dinner or event of some kind and the servants serve you some foods high in iron and vitamin C that the other guests don’t. Of course you can also eat the normal food, but Aemond is very particular about ensuring there is always enough the beat possible food available for you to help with losing blood for him.

And lord help anyone who tries to mess with that, even if someone just asks to try something and you actually agree to it, he’ll still tell them off. Of course you don’t let him get away with this. You always turn to look at him and tell him to stop being so combative and to everyone’s shock he immediately nods and apologises because he hates seeing you unhappy with him.

I also think he gets VERY offended any time someone thinks he’s feeding form multiple people or offers to let him feed off them? Like I think maybe it would be quite common for neighbouring kingdoms to visit and bring their own people for blood supply and then as a sign of respect and trust, they’ll send one of their people to offer themselves to one of the vampires residing in the red keep.

More than once visitors have made the mistake of getting their people to offer a feed to Aemond. The first time they ask he just says no and ignored them. Then the second time he tells them to fuck off, and if they are come a third time then they’re getting kicked out.

It’s even worse if they try to make this offer when you’re there. You know Aemond will never do it and you don’t care how many people offer themselves to him, but Aemond sees them doing that as an insult to you? You’re sitting right there and they are to try to offer him another’s blood? Often you have to tell the poor human to scamper off before Aemond kills them.

And lastly, I wanna talk about Aemond after a feed? Well more specifically, Aemond after a bigger feed? He’ll drink from your neck for bigger feeds, and fuck once he’s had his full he’s almost blood drunk?

His head is all fuzzy and he’s so utterly satiated it’s like he can he can feel it in his bones. He’s so plaint then, will do whatever you say and often ends up more than a bit horny. You LOVE riding a blood drunk Aemond so much because he’s just completely blissed out the entire time, and when it’s finished he’ll just turn and hide in your arms, mumbling his thanks and promptly falling asleep.

[lizzyiii]

His Lady Love —Masterlist

pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson!reader

taglist | if you'd like to be added to the tag list just fill out the following DOC ✨✨✨

summary | to escape your cursed lineage, you sail away to the ends of the world, where you discover a new world, one with only two continents instead of seven. you make a life for yourself in the court of kings landing, where you catch the eye of a certain targaryen prince.

warnings | violence, blood, death, vampire powers, SMUT (18+ MDNI!), fluff, hurt/comfort, trying to follow canon plotline (major changes for some stuff), he falls hard, she falls harder but he's still the one obsessed.

i do not own any character from the book "fire and blood" or the following shows "the house of the dragon" or "the originals" except the reader (which is you)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 1 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 2 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 3 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 5 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 6 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 7 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 8

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 9 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 10

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

What do you guys want first? Which fandom works do you want posted first 👀

[flowerandblood]

Sweet kiss, sweet blood Masterlist

[dark vampire! • Aemond x fem!reader]

[warnings: sex content, drinking blood, violence, smut, angst, fingering, sexual tension, profanation, mention of the murders]

[description: A centuries-old vampire lives in Victorian England, bored and discouraged. His old friend sends him a letter, inviting him to his new country house. Aemond arrives there to rest. Next to the property, there is a small chapel, visited by the faithful. It turns out that at night, a young lady prays in it. Slow burn, sexual tension, profanation, murder, blood drinking.]

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 (End)

[zephyrrr101]

Faster

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warning: TVDU inspired Vampire Aemond, blood drinking, manipulation (compulsion), Aemond being practically bored, Aemmy is also slight delulu, suicidal thoughts, angst? Could be.

A/N: I thought Aemond wearing Ewan’s CCXP outfit while writing this. Wipes off the drool Tagging @hotd-bigbang for giving me miraculous push for finishing the last part for the road prompt 24. Love you.

Masterlist

Run.

Someone said.

Run.

You could feel your limbs giving up. Every time your bare feet hit the ground, you could feel the dry twigs and leaves poking and piercing them. Each step now made you feel as if your legs will give out and you’d fall or either they will tear off. You even feared your bone breaking, cracking any moment.

Run.

You wanted to run.

You didn’t want to run.

You should run.

You didn’t want to though.

You want to stop.

You cannot stop.

But why?

Why couldn’t you stop?

You felt yourself slowing down but the very next moment you again gained speed.

Faster.

Something in you was telling you.

Why? You thought, your breaths coming in pants, your mouth open as your body called for more oxygen for energy to run. Why am I running?

You heard a sound going off around you. It was pleasant, for sure, melodic. But it felt just as haunting in the dark night with just a half moon to show you light. You wished it was either a full moon or no moon at all. You’d see something or you won’t be seen too but it was this night you were running.

The branches of the trees around you were not any helpful, you felt them scratch your arms and face every now and then.

You were so tired. So tired, that you hadn’t even seen the root of tree and trip over it, your body slamming into the tree right in front of you. You couldn’t make out what did you hit but your shoulder was throbbing, you could feel your hasty pulse through the flesh.

Thump

Thump

Thump

You wanted to yell, cry out as loud as you could, but all that came out of your mouth was a gasp.

You couldn’t even scream.

Why?

Where did your voice go?

What was even going on?

There was no time for it. You stood up, pushing your hand against the rough tree trunk, you felt it’s bark cutting through the soft skin of your palm, but it didn’t stop you.

You had to run.

You took a step forward almost ending up face first into the dry leaves on the ground if it wasn’t for the tree that had tripped you, you had taken a hold of it as soon as the sharp pain shot through your ankle.

You had hurt your ankle as well as your shoulder.

There was something stuck in your chest. Something heavy that wanted to be let out but you couldn’t. The burning and weighing down on your chest that almost made you fall but you held onto the tree more than that and dragged yourself ahead to whatever direction it.

You had to run.

“Well, this took a boring turn.”

You felt as if you’d pulled a muscle in your neck with speed you turned around as pain struck you. Or was it your shoulder? You weren’t sure.

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter anymore.

In front of you was a man, leaning on a tree, you couldn’t see much of him because of the darkness but the pale skin of his hands and face, half of which was covered in something dark, and the golden silver tresses pulled back that seemed to shine in the darkness of forest on it’s own self and an eye. A vibrant violet eye, that stood out most of him.

And it came to you.

It came to you like water rushing into a river, so fast that it would flood places around it.

He told you to run. He told you not to make a sound. He told you to not slow down. He told you to never stop, even it your legs break. Never. Stop.

He, your captor.

Aemond. A whisper from your mind came. His name is Aemond.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, holding onto the tree for your life. “please.”

You remember now.

He promised you that he’d let you go.

You could leave if you didn’t stop, didn’t make a sound until you made it out of the forest.

He promised. And he promised that if he found you before it... Well you knew what would happen.

Again.

You held your breath as he started to move and you pushed yourself into the tree, it’s bark scratching your open back, you felt a branch in the back of your shoulder, it felt like embedding in it.

“Sh.. it’s alright. It is not your fault.” His voice was soft, just like it was when he brushed your hair this morning and gave your sheer, white shift dress to wear, the same dress that was now coated with dust and leaves, torn at some places. He had smiled at you just like this after that, telling you how you both would have fun tonight, before feeding you all of your favourite delicacies. “You are but a foolish human. That’s why I take care of you. My sweet foolish doll, always making me go to lengths to take care of you. Look how dirty you got yourself.”

His hands reached up to you, you flinched as he rubbed his thumbs on your cheeks, you sniffled at the burn that caused.

You face cradled in one hand, he pulled away the other, the thumb glistening slightly before it disappeared behind the veil that were his lips.

Your tears. You were crying.

The thought made you sob. “I’m sorry. Please. Please! Let me go—”

“Quiet!” He glared at you. He looked angry and offended. You immediately wanted to apologise, ask for forgiveness. Last time he had looked like this, you had been in pain and he hadn’t even healed you, reminding you every moment that it was your punishment for the hurt you caused him. You wanted tell him how sorry you were. If only you could speak. “What have I said about this? Did we not have this useless conversation before?” His hand that was giving you the utmost comfort at your cheek now was gripping your jaw so hard that you thought it would snap. Your hand clutched at his dark clothes. He was blending with the darkness of the forest. Like he was one with it. “What have I said? Tell me!”

“People... People are bad. They... They will hurt me.” You stuttered out, some words unclear but you were sure he understood it.

“Yes.” He hissed, his grip on you tightening even more, you wanted it to be over, you wanted to tell him to get off you but it would just further anger him. He leaned in, his nose tracing your earlobe, you felt him take deep breath, taking in your scent like a hungry man taking in a feast presented to him. You weren’t any less if you could say it.

He spoke again, this time his voice softer. “Why do you make me do it again and again. Can’t you see I just want to keep you safe.” He pulled away from you, his hands were back on your jaw, he softly caressing the silent tears away from your cheeks which now had stopped flowing. “Why must you do this to us? Look what your stupid wish led to. A broken leg, your shoulder too probably.” You wanted to tell him you had just asked to just let you see what was out of the forest just once, but silence was better, you remembered now.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled and croaked, throat dry, you’d do anything for something to wet it. You just wanted it over. How you didn’t know but you were tired. So, so tired. “please, forgive me.”

He looked like what you would imagine a prince from fairy tales to be like. The one who would kill the evil in the world and save the princess from it, make her his wife and with whom she would live happily ever after.

His eye, his violet eye, so out of world. Something that made you forget where you were. You felt his hand on yours before he placed it on his neck. A smile gracing his deep pink lips. “Of course. It is alright. As I said you are foolish.” His hands, the skin of his fingers and palm always got you confused. How could something so calloused feel so soft on your cheeks. As if silk.

How could someone so beautiful could be cruel?

Before you knew, you back in your room, in your bed, and he was rubbing away at your skin with a wet cloth. You found yourself in another one of your shifts. This time in a blue one.

It seemed he was contend with what he had done, thrown away was a cloth. Was that what you looked like after he was done with you?

You couldn’t help but move a little away from him when his hand neared your face, but you stopped immediately. His eye had went hard and it felt like she was staring into an amethyst, hard, cold and lifeless. Just like the sapphire in the empty hole which would have been his other eye.

“Tis alright,” he caressed your head, weaving his way through them and he pulled you on his lap and his hand stopped, right at tha base of your neck. You felt the other on your thigh, fingers drawing circles on them. You knew what was coming. You felt your eyes wetting.

“Please, I’m sorry.” You whispered, you hand going to his chest, clenching the dark fabric in your hand. “I will never—”

“Hush now.” He kissed your forehead. He was so tall, even while sitting on his lap, you were a good inch smaller. He said he liked it. How you were so small, almost like a doll. “Be a good doll, now. You did something you shouldn’t have. You knew punishment would follow, didn’t you?”

He looked expectant. He was asking an answer. The only appropriate answer. And you gave it to him. You nodded.

“Look at that you’re already learning,” He smiled, it was so cruel. This care, this affection, that smile, if only you never knew how cruel he could be. “You’ve been such a good girl. Perhaps I will make it easy for you.” He caressed your cheek and then grabbed your chin. His beautiful violet eyes boring into yours. “Don’t be afraid.” The his iris dilated and you felt calm wash over.

You were still sad over what was to come but not scared anyone. You were a little weirded out by the veins that came upon his face, rising from the eye lids and vanishing as they went down his face to neck, eye turning a deep shade of red, almost black but the candle light in your room was enough to know the difference. You watched him pull his hand away from your thigh, biting into the wrist, pointy tooth, fangs, protruding out as they tore away at his flesh. You felt surprised that he didn’t even flinch while doing that. He brought it to your lips, you looked at him, his lips covered with some of his own lips. You knew the drill after that.

You didn’t like it. The blood was metallic, you could never tell like what for sure. But you had gotten used to it. You gulped down each and every drop you could before the wound closed on it’s own and while that you hissed, you felt the bone in your ankle and shoulder getting better and on their place. You could breath better now.

His head dipped down, hand going back to your neck, pulling your head away a bit, you felt his soft lips brush your neck, littering kisses over your neck. You also felt the his blood on your neck.

And you held on tight onto him, bracing yourself.

Everything was hazy afterwards. You didn’t even remember screaming, but you had heard something. The world was turning into a blur.

‘Please end this tonight.’ You thought.

And you felt the weight lift off you, through your hazy view you saw him. He was hovering over you, dark liquid coating his chin and lips, dripping down his neck.

Your blood.

He leaned down and you felt his lips caressing yours, devouring you like a lion would his meal.

He pulled away again and you heard him whisper. “Not so soon, doll.”

[lovelykhaleesiii]

A Figure in the Shadows...

PAIRING: Vampire!Aemond Targaryen x Human!fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,278.

SUMMARY: The mystery surrounding the young, desolate Prince Aemond, was ultimately a discovery you had never dreamt imaginable, and yet you craved just as he did...

WARNINGS: vampire tendencies, mentions of period blood, self-mutilation/harm, mentions of blood.

A/N - I finally got around to this AU, hope you all enjoy x

Aemond was not a person that favoured making himself known. Neither loud nor obnoxious, he was a reserved and distant figure who tampered with dark magic that ultimately led him to a fate he could not escape...

Rarely seen in broad daylight, you would often catch faint glimpses of him in some bustling background, hidden amid the masses: his ominous presence was palpable.

It was your scent that seized his senses, captivating his mind solely. Sweet and rich, a ripeness to it that heightened his senses.

Then the nagging, harrowing thoughts followed, potently wondering what you would taste like...

Initially, he tried to resist the urges to stalk you, yet his body had a mind of its own, and found himself helplessly enamoured in basking in your presence, relishing in listening to your delicate voice [even if it was from afar].

Relentlessly keeping himself distant and hidden in the darkly dim, cornered shadows as you naively wandered the long, stony hallways all on your lonesome self [his mind often teasing him that now was the perfect chance to treat himself to a flavour of your ripe blood], yet he refused to treat you like his common prey.

After a few nights, he noticed how much more aware you had grown to your surroundings. Anxiously looking over your shoulder often, closely peering down the hallway hesitant yet hopeful to find a desolate figure or hungry eyes lurking over, only to be greeted with silence and absence [or so you were convinced].

Aemond sought for more of you: desperate for something more tangible than just memories of your enrapturing figure. In the daytime, when you had embarked on some errand needing the daylight, he would sneak into your private chambers, and meticulously rummage through your belongings [particularly eager for your undergarments... Used under-garments in the woven laundry basket that the maids had not yet reached, his nose and tenacious sense of smell leading the way to treasure].

Freshly wet and much to his favour, drenched in your maiden blood: his black pupil dilating intensely at the raw sight, swallowing the lilac colour of his Targaryen genetic, whilst the sapphire [of his mutilated eye] glistened in awe.

He found himself inhaling your natural scent, and soon his tongue and mouth lapping at the bloody fabric. Even though the source was not "fresh or alive" nor even palpable, he was intoxicated with your flavour, and was desperate to sink his fangs into something more alive.

In the late, cold hours of the night, Aemond snuck into your chambers, lurking in the shadows, observing your defenceless, lonesome self deep in slumber. Unblinking, his eye wandered over your near naked body, the sheer, luminescent fabric of your nightgown ranked up from your unconscious movements, and the sheets tussled.

Aemond drew himself closer and closer, vividly hearing the gushing sound of your blood streaming through your vessels, and the rhythmic pounding of your heart. He found himself a mere few inches away from the crook of your neck, almost as if you were taunting him yourself, like a siren luring a sailor into his death.

The primal urge to feed had overpowered his humane thoughts, and Aemond succumbed to his animalistic traits. Hastily and sharply plunging his grown fangs into your soft, tender skin, the sudden sting of his bite was enough to abruptly awaken you.

Finding a sudden stranger, let alone a man, atop you, firmly gripping your body down against his heavier, stronger weight, the fright had set, as your breathing quickened the adrenaline pumping now, feeling your heart beat faster: it only made Aemond sink in deeper, earning a loud cry from your behalf, as his large, rough hand fell over your mouth, ceasing any further cries or pleas for help.

As your sight grew accustomed to the dim light, and sense resumed once more in your mind, your gaze paced over the figure, realising the familiar platinum, long strands, you immediately recognised Prince Aemond.

Your helpless whimpers, and the drop of your body temperature, growing colder the more Aemond drew of your fresh blood, he'd grown apparent of his actions, immediately pulling himself from you: fresh, bright blood drizzled all across his defined lips, as his tongue lapped it up eagerly.

Feeling the sensitive, sore open wounds [two-precise openings] at the crook of your neck, blood smeared across your shaky fingers. Seconds passed, before you began to feel hazy and frail, your mind drifting off once more into a faint.

The following bright morning, the soreness of the wound still very present, you were adamant to seek out Aemond: searching the castle keeps thoroughly, questioning servants of the revered Prince's whereabouts, the forbidden keeps of the library, planted beneath the castle's foundation, close to the prehistoric skull that belonged to the black dreaded beast, Balerion.... Wintry, dark and isolated, it was the perfect hideout for the creature that Aemond was...

Sneaking into the desolate chamber, book shelves boarded up and locked, Aemond seemed to pay no mind as you made yourself known: possible that he had heard your haste footsteps from afar, inhaling that alluring scent of your maiden blood, oozing from your aching cunt.

Aemond attempted to nonchalantly persuade you upon confrontation: "sounds like a terrible dream", and that the wound was one of your own doing in your active sleep.

Impatience brewing, you remained stubbornly persistent in your truth, and despite Aemond's obvious attempt in maintaining some physical distance between yourself and him, you hastily stormed towards, drawing the dagger from his slim waist, slashing your forearm, as fresh blood gushed out invitingly.

"I suppose then the sight of this should not undo you... A Targaryen Prince, weak to the sight of blood? Mayhaps... Is my scent something alluring... Is my Prince is feeling a little... Thirsty?"

"Taste me, my Prince... I desire for you to feed from me, this I grant you from now always."

Whether it was a toxin from his bite, or some trance he casted, there was something invigorating, from that night Aemond first succumbed to his instincts. How captivated and enraptured he was by your very humane being. All his senses were lost, defenceless and yet you, empowered.

The chilling notion that Aemond is this supernatural, almighty being and yet, would become feeble and vulnerable against your mere, mortal existence was captivating for the both of you.

This was a first for Aemond, in all the long years he had existed and for all the prey he had drained, none like you.

He did dislike the notion of feeding off you directly, if necessary or when you desired: frightened that he would reach a point of complete intoxication, losing any sense of self-control, only to be left with your empty, physical vessel.

You would definitely have a safe word, and some plan to fiend Aemond off, if necessary. Regardless, he was strong-willed and refused to indulge himself utterly.

Innovating, Aemond preferred keeping a vial of your blood with him: sating himself even if you were absent.

Aemond did enjoy replenishing you: hand-feeding you with rich fruits [especially pomegranates] and wine [often justifying that it made your blood taste sweeter].

He enjoyed bathing you in floral scented soaps, lathering your skin with rich oils. Providing you with a lavish self-care ritual that no servant could.

He was highly protective of you, often noticing strange glances from afar only moments after you would enter a room: and immediately he would act a menace, incomprehensible to his repercussions.

Despite what Aemond was, you loved him as he deeply loved you. Devouring yourselves in each other's affections and admiration: a love that would last an eternity of lifetimes.

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag] - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @hightowhxre @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified

Aemond taglist - @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog

[bitter-post-millennial]

Hello 👋 This is Moamen and his family from Gaza. Please help us evacuate to safety, complete university studies, and find a source of income after the destruction of what we own. We live in difficult circumstances and a difficult life 🙏🏼 ❤️ Please share and spread the campaign because I urgently need help and the matter is urgent. Because the campaign is going very slowly, there is no water and little food. Please donate and share please Moamen Majed, his four brothers, and their parents ($40/$30,000) - @moamenmajed-gaza

and you get a post and you get a post, you all get a post