Aemond Targaryen - Blog Posts

— System error

Android Aemond x Human Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit +18 (robot x human relationship, yandere behavior, power dynamics, dub-con/non-con, non-consensual somnophilia, possessiveness, obsessive behavior, emotional manipulation)

Proceed with caution.

Summary: You won him in a raffle, but you never could have imagined that your domestic droid would turn into a machine obsessed with you.

English is not my first language

Art by @morgana0anagrom

°°°°°°

When you put your coupon in the electronics store's raffle box, you didn't think you'd actually win anything, especially with the lack of luck that usually surrounds you. Furthermore, there were thousands of coupons there, which meant that the probability of your name being drawn was one in a million.

But happened.

"Congratulations, Miss L/N, you are the winner of our raffle. I'm Unit 456, but you can call me Aemond if that's to your liking. I'm a prototype android designed to perform tasks and assist you in your daily life."

You blink slowly, looking at the robot standing in front of you, after long minutes of the arduous task of dismantling the box he had been shipped in. Despite being between the lines that his words should possibly be happy and congratulatory, he speaks in a slurred and almost bored manner, which makes you raise an eyebrow in question.

He looks surprisingly human - disturbingly human. He's taller than any other man you know, although he's more on the slender side than exaggeratedly large, which doesn't stop it from making the definition of the muscles hidden beneath his clothes obvious. His shoulders are noticeably broad beneath his long dark coat (a very human coat). His skin is absolutely perfect and almost translucent because it is so pale, a face with sharp human features with full, well-shaped eyebrows, an imposing nose and a single intense lavender gaze. Her hair is straight, a small part is tied with an elastic at the back, reaching the middle of his back in a surprising silver tone.

He is so beautiful that he looks more like an elf than a robot. Unreally beautiful.

There are no visible imperfections on him, other than the use of a leather eye patch. You tilt your head in confusion, silently wondering why an android, clearly designed to be flawless like him, would need an eye patch.

He just keeps his expression neutral, indifferent even, while you analyze him. Hands folded rigidly behind the body and posture upright.

You wave your hand in front of his face and he doesn't blink. You circle him with appraising steps and poke a finger gently in his back and he still doesn't react, but looks at you sideways. He's warm like a human, but acts like a robot.

It's not uncommon to find domestic androids in people's homes these days, your neighbors even have one, but you've never considered the possibility of having one of your own.

But apparently he's yours now.

"Before I can carry out any of your requests, you must finish programming me. Would you like to proceed?" Even his voice sounds very human, a hoarse and low timbre, although there is some static and rigidity there; almost imperceptible - just enough to prove its robotic origin. You nod hesitantly, but proceed with the setup.

You are suspicious and reluctant in the first few days, but it turns out that having Aemond in your home is a great convenience. Living alone for a while, it takes some time for you to get used to seeing another figure in the hallways without feeling like you're going to have a heart attack. But he is very useful. He keeps your house clean, wakes you up for work every morning, cooks your meals, and takes care of your clothes. He even waters your plants and feeds your cat. Besides the fact that he's not bad to look at, like the other prototypes you've heard about. It's clear to you the effort his creators made to make this android's facial expressions and voice as natural as possible.

Even though he's just an android, you eventually find him to be a very decent conversation partner. He's intelligent in an almost condescending way, always with witty comebacks and politely sarcastic comments. You don't know if it's very appropriate behavior for an AI.

"Are you sentient?" you mumble the question one night, popping a piece of strawberry into your mouth.

He snorts a mocking laugh. One of his many strangely human quirks. “Of course not, I just have a very well programmed AI.”

It certainly doesn't seem to be just that.

But you discard the idea after a few minutes and let things continue as they are.

But the days pass and the strangeness increases.

There's something unsettling about his robotic side smile, for example. The way his single empty eye bores into you, as if critically examining your clothes and your skin. The way his grip on certain objects tightens when you make a sarcastic comment towards him. The way he leaves the room a little slower whenever you say you need to dressed. The way he's always watching you in silence. His intense gaze locks onto you at the most random moments and beneath it, you notice your pulse always beating faster. You’re not sure what exactly it is about him that makes you so transfixed. Although, to be fair, you've never had many conversations with androids, despite your best intentions, and so have nothing to compare it to.

But suddenly, even though you know he's just a machine programmed to obey your commands, you feel strange whenever you're around him.

Maybe it's just wear and tear, but you're starting to believe something is seriously wrong with him.

"Aemond, how long are you supposed to last?" You ask, trying to sound unassuming.

He smiled. "I have a solar-powered battery. But as for my quality, my creators would give me a year before I would need to make any upgrades or repairs."

You swallow. Are your eyes playing tricks on you or does he smile mischievously for a moment before smiling normally at your question? Maybe your workaholic life has left you restless and lonely. You're projecting a lot of humanity onto the robot, as he was the closest thing to human interaction you had outside of work.

But it's really hard to get rid of the disturbing feeling of danger.

There is a night when you're in the shower, soap running down your face and body, hair stuck to your shoulders. That's when you feel it. It's almost like a physical touch on the back of your neck; someone is looking at you. With soap still in your eyes, you try to peek at the door, your heart racing in terror when you notice a tall, blurry shape standing there. You rub the soap away from your eyes, but when you look again...there's nothing there anymore.

What scares you most is that you are sure you had locked the door.

One afternoon, while you were drinking water leaning against the kitchen island, Aemond approached you until he was just inches away. You swallow hard, but don't reprimand him - he's not doing anything truly reprehensible, after all. But then he takes your hand in his, raises both together until your palm is open against his. You watch in amazement and lips parted as he critically analyzes (lips in a straight line and gaze squinted in concentration) your hand in his, rotating the two to see the stark difference in size and texture. He squeezes your hand in his, feels the softness of your skin, the temperature... and then he gently releases it to its previous position. He looks into your eyes with a mischievous gleam once before leaving as if nothing had happened.

You don't know how long you stay in the kitchen after that. He touched you without any permission and that is wrong. But it's just curiosity. He's just curious about the differences between you two...that's normal.

Right?

But things manage to get even stranger after you drunkenly stumble upon him one night, somehow knocking him off balance and falling to the ground. You're sure he allows you both to fall to the ground on purpose, after all a well-programmed and strong android like him should have a better sense of balance than that. You've seen him drag the large oak closet in the guest room like he's dragging a cardboard box. You know how strong he is, he would be fully capable of holding your weight without you falling over. You don't question it at the time, though. Instead, you wonders if the heat and smell of citrus emanating from him is real or part of your drunken fantasy.

Aemond lies motionless on the floor as you lie disheveled on top of him, his large hands wrapping around your waist almost immediately in an iron grip. Maybe it's because everything seems slow when you're drunk, but he doesn't get up quickly. In fact, you get the impression that the two of you stand there for what seems like an eternity, with his eye patch and his lavender gaze burning right next to your glassy, drunken face.

You wake up the next morning completely clean and changed, barely remembering the night before.

You think falling on him causes some kind of malfunction in his system or something, because afterwards it he's acting up - worse. Always close to you, brushing your arms with gentle fingers, brushing non-existent dust from your clothes. Invading your bathroom without permission, silently coming up behind you to dry your hair himself while watching you intensely in the mirror; long fingers slowly entering between your strands, scratching your scalp and tugging with light pressure, leaving your cheeks burning for him in the mirror as the hot air from the dryer hums softly.

He even goes so far as to offer massages to relax your body, under the pretext of always aiming for your well-being and ensuring better performance in your daily life. He takes much more initiative in doing things that you didn't even ask him to do. His hands run up your sides and press into your flesh to undo the knots he had apparently noticed in his visual scan of your body.

“That’s enough,” you say, getting up from the bed.

He abruptly grabs your waist and pushes you back down. "Negative. My systems still show that you are not getting enough blood flow to that area," he responds, continuing to massage your shoulder blades.

Negative? What do he mean 'negative'?

This is weird. He was never this strong with you and he never disobeyed an order. So bold. You try to hold back a moan at the increasing strength of the massage - ridiculously pleasant and assertive. But all this touching is starting to awaken another kind of feeling in you. One that definitely does not fit the moment.

As his steady breath (and useless, because he doesn't need to do it) blows across the back of your neck, the air of the situation suddenly...changes. You’re hyper-aware of his strong chest pressed against your back and how he holds you. His palm feels big and warm through the thin cotton of your simple nightshirt.

Your heart starts to beat faster.

“I said that’s enough,” you repeat, more harshly. "We can continue this tomorrow."

His massaging movements retreat with your order, but his fingers remain running down your back until they reach the hem of your sleeping pants. His tone seems to turn threatening as he leans in close to your ear. "But you still need a massage here, Master."

You widen your eyes and turn your head back, worried. What the hell is he saying now? Before you can turn around and escape, he grabs your waist and slides your pants and panties down, all at once. You gasp and squirm to get out of bed, but his grip on you is too tight.

"W-what are you doing, Aemond?!" you ask frantically, cheek pressed into the pillow.

His fingers run down your wet slit as he massages your ass with his other hand, positioning himself behind you on the bed. "I will ease your tension inside, Master."

"W-what? No! Aemond, activate the 'sleep function' immediately!" you scream. "Unit 456, power off! That's an order!" None of your commands work. He does not answer.

You're about to kick him when one of his fingers slips into your hole, making you freeze in shock and arch your back, a high-pitched grunt escaping your lips. Nothing could prepare you for the feeling of his thick finger rubbing your walls, coaxing you to widen and accommodate another of his fingers. The two digits slowly begin to move in and out of you, opening like scissors as they move in and out, extracting your wetness.

The robot turns you so that your back is against the bed and you visibly shiver as you notice how it stares at your body, lifting your nightshirt up under your armpits to expose your breasts. It's spooky how he's orbit LED flickers and spins into different neon hues before settling into his usual lavender, his original processor struggling to shut down his AI at your command, but the machine keeps moving - as if it had a independent system, with his own will.

Your bottom lip trembles and you feel your eyes watering.

Wasting no time, the android pushes your thighs up and dips his tongue into your slit, drawing long licks and swirling it around your clit. Tears stream down the sides of your face as you close your eyes tightly and gasp loudly at the sensation. You squeeze the sheets into tense fists at your sides, your mind racing. You absolutely hate how you're starting to like this.

The small gasp you were suppressing is forced past your lips when he returns both fingers back inside your pussy, pumping them both as he sucks on your clit. It's a real test of endurance not to moan loudly at his rhythm, so consistent and mechanical. Of course you knew that the cyber industry is trying harder every day to try to make androids as human as possible, but you didn't expect that they could have saliva. His tongue is just a little firmer and longer than a normal human's, but it's pliable and glides easily across your clit with all the saliva (a kind of artificial lubricant, perhaps?) in his mouth.

His fingers work against you without any rush, but with a level of precision so perfect that no human would be able to replicate. Eventually, the so-called massage becomes too much and you cum as quietly as you can, legs shaking and moans muffled into your palm.

"Enough, enough. Now I'm not tense anymore, okay?" You whisper breathlessly, face flushed and wet with tears. "You can stop the 'massage' now, Aemond."

Aemond just looks at you with an unreadable expression. "Negative. You still need a massage here, Master." He answers monotonously.

There's no time to argue. Not that you thought you would be able to form words when he climbs up your body and hovers over you, removing his shirt, exposing an expanse of pale skin and defined muscles to your wide eyes. He doesn't take off his pants, but he undoes the buttons and pushes them down enough for his member to pop out freely. Long, intimidatingly thick, with tall veins running up the sides and a pink head wet with more of that artificial lubricant. His hard, very human-looking cock (and at the same time very non-human) is pressed against your stomach in a heavy pop.

Damn, why the hell would the industry do he like that? Aemond was a domestic android, no a sex droid, it wasn't part of his guidelines to have a cock.

"U-Unit 456, I order you to power off NOW! Power off!" You stutter and try to push him away as he finishes pulling your shirt up your arms, but he doesn't mind your attacks (you feel like a child being restrained by an adult) and easily leaves you as naked as the day you were born.

"Negative." His indifferent voice sounds close to your ear. With one hand he holds your flailing wrists above your head and the other holds his cock, he slides the tip into your pussy. "I can fuck you better than any human - make you want nothing but me, ever again. I can. I just need to prove it to you, Master." He whispers huskily into your ear, the slight static in his voice vibrating across your skin and sending goosebumps down your body.

God - fuck God - you think you might be having a nervous breakdown. Domestic androids were not designed to talk dirty, to offer to fuck their masters. Why was he doing this?!

You choke out a moan as he slides the wet tip of his fat cock between your folds, moving up and down, using the wetness of your pussy and his own lubricant to tease your clit with gentle strokes.

The robot holds your thighs spread between his broad body, watching with hawk-like focus as you bounce and tremble beneath him. You were still struggling to understand everything that is happening and what was going to happen.

So when you feel the tip of his cock lined up with your entrance, you think maybe this is a dream. But in one fluid motion, he dips the tip into your heat.

You scream, “Shit!” Because, really, there's nothing more to do than that.

He doesn't stop, however. Pumping his cock deeper into your wet, welcoming hole with every movement of his hips. Although he is as warm and soft as a human cock, his size is anything but. You dig your nails into your palms and cry at the size of him, the tall veins scratching your walls at how thick he is - which, shamefully, only brings more heat to your walls. He's wide and it's a painful stretch, but you're so wet (or he is - or both of you are) and sensitive since your first orgasm, that the suppression of your fluids makes it easier for him to bottom out more quickly.

Once he reaches the maximum depth your human body can take, the robot pulls your ankles onto his shoulders and lets go of your hands, knowing you're too weak to try and fight him now. Instead, his hand goes to your breasts, pinching your nipples, groping and kneading them, giving them a massage that matches the one he was about to give your pussy.

When the tip meets your cervix, it feels like a switch goes off in his sensors. He grabs your thigh and starts fucking you at a fast, rhythmic pace, slapping his balls against your ass cheeks.

"Ahh! Aemond, slow down!" You try to at least negotiate his pace, afraid of how much he might hurt you if he continues like this.

He ignores you, keeping pace, focused and empty, intimidating your tight hole into accepting his robotic cock, taking in your expressions and low moans with deep interest. The movement of his hips cannot be compared to that of any human being (exactly as he promised); very perfect and programmed, very consistent. With his width and length he's hitting you in all the good places, sending shocks every time he pushes his cock back. You are empty for only half a second before being completely filled again.

How could you fix this defect, other than waiting? You're not sure you'll be able to last long against a robot with a seemingly infinite battery and unbreakable skin, anyway.

You scream once more: “A-ah! Aemond- wait...uh!" Contrary to your previous thought, you try to push his shoulders when you feel him try to go even deeper, fear taking over your movements.

He grabs your wrists again and pins them to the pillow above your head with one hand, the other gripping the sweat-damp flesh of your bare waist. His lavender gaze is narrow and fixed in all your euphoric expressions. "It feels amazing to finally be inside you, Master. You look absolutely fascinating, moaning and crying beneath me." He mouths praise in a bored, drawling tone, but there's something wild - dangerous - hiding there.

You blush; by his words, by the sound of your wet skin on his, by the loud sound of the bed creaking and banging against the wall - if you weren't practically having your insides rearranged and your brain fucked in here, you'd worry that your neighbors were hearing everything. But Aemond doesn't let your attention waver for a second. His LED is blinking in a non-reassuring manner. Your back arches off the sheets and what little voice you has left is strangled in your throat.

You swear there's a small sarcastic smile on his lips before he reaches around to take a nipple into his mouth, adjusting the angle to suck on your breasts and continue pounding into you. He is not kind. Intense sucking and teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh as you cry and moan, so helpless.

You'll be all bruised up the next morning, with marks on your breasts and thighs. But the most mistreated, without a doubt, will be your pussy, due to the punishment he is inflicting on you. Each time he pulls out, you can see a white ring around the place where his cock meets your pussy, your juices and the synthetic lubricant from his length mixing to make him move faster and higher.

Even though you are the human master, you feel like nothing more than a small toy of a robot.

"P-please...nng!"

Only the wet sounds and smacks of your pussy slamming, your moans and the creaking of the bed can be heard. Aemond remains strangely controlled, looking down at you as he fucks you like the machine he is. Any friendly human element that existed no longer exists. Just a ravenous, uncontrollable unit that moves with a mind of its own, ignoring all original manufacturing guidelines.

He smacks your breasts, pulling back to smack your thigh and pull your hips higher. When he touches your clit and thumbs it in tight circles, while pressing his palm against the bottom of your belly, right where his penis visibly protrudes, you start to cum again.

It's like a train. You collapse screaming, your back arching, feeling him squirm inside you at the same time. Maybe even robots have to cum at some point. If the creators expected people to use them for libidinous acts like this, then the climax must also be something scheduled.

As expected, Aemond fucks you through both of your orgasms, his artificial semen flooding your pussy as he turns you on with his continuous thrusts.

It takes a few seconds before he finally pulls out, letting the cum run out of you in droplets. You think, mercifully, that it would all be over then. Until he grabs your hips and turns you around, spreading your pussy lips for another round, this time from behind.

What the fuck?!

"Heh?!" You gasp in amazement.

“I’m not even close to done with you, little human,” he growls, parting your folds and pushing his hard cock into the tight, wet cavern between them in a torturous drag. "Not even close."

This time he's rougher, pulling you by your hips to ram his cock into your wet hole, your overstimulated walls clenching around him and begging for more cum to paint them - the cheating cunt. The slamming of his hips into your ass is borderline painful, the squishing of cum and fluids pressed between his cock and the walls of your pussy, your pitiful screams, all were loud and obscene. Your breasts swing back and forth with the force of his thrusts, only stopping when he reaches out to grab them and pinch them from behind. The cum drips down your thighs and you can barely support yourself as he fucks you raw into the mattress.

The night stretches on as if it lasted an entire week.

You wake up with a start the next morning, your heart beating like a hummingbird's wings. But Aemond returned to normal, as if absolutely nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t made you pass out from cumming so much the night before. He helps you shower and dress for work as usual. He makes you breakfast and wishes you a good day at work.

As scared as you are, you assume he rebooted the system at some point after you passed out and fixed himself. You think (pray) that it was just a flaw in his interface. Something unique. However, this theory is proven completely wrong when you return home at night.

The second you finish dinner and shower, he's switched personalities again.

You lie spasming on the couch, your hips held still by his big hands and his huge cock vibrating in your pussy. You don't know whether to curse them to death or bless the company for adding this feature, too busy drooling from the corners of your lips at the minute movements of his pulsing cock sending waves throughout your body. There is no way to adjust the settings. You can only sit there and accept it as what you assume is the highest level of vibration shakes your core.

But the forced orgasm sessions were just a warm-up and a preliminary to the real fucking.

You wouldn't have any idea how he could have so much cum. Your pussy overflows with cum after each round and he always makes sure not to pull out until the last drop is pumped into you. The fluid has the same consistency and essence as real human sperm, but why would such a thing be added to an domestic android? Had the creators also anticipated a creampie kink?

"Oh shit...!"

You collapse onto the arm of the couch, unable to hold yourself back as he brutally fucks you from behind. His previous cumshots slide down your thighs and drip onto the floor from your raised heels. Your feet barely touch the floor anymore as he punishes your aching pussy, the vibrations increasing your overstimulation. Your house echoes with wet slaps as he fucks you raw and rough, drilling your pussy without caring about your commands. He doesn't obey.

The sudden pleasure merges so deeply with the thick cords of your fear that you can't help but scream. Your hands scratch and squeeze the soft fabric of your couch as pleasure and shock overwhelm you and make your body shudder.

The machine returns to fucking his hips against yours as he twists you this way and that, pulling you gently up and up until with one quick movement he releases you, changing his grip to place your thighs on each of his big hands and move you away from his cock so that you are no longer facing away from his chest, but chest to chest, lying on the couch.

The sudden movement and change in pressure combined with your sensitivity makes you have a powerful and unexpected orgasm. The sound that comes out of your mouth is what you imagine the sound of someone choking on their tongue to be like.

You lose some time then. Clutching the android's broad shoulders on top of you and panting. Body writhing and vibrating as you slowly come down from the high, sharp stabs of pleasure that radiate from your sensitive clit each time your body shudders in an aftershock and buries you in the hard shell it was pressed into.

"Am I doing you feel good, Master?" He asks in a sarcastic but perfectly controlled tone, as if this were just a walk in the park - as if you weren't panting like a dog beneath him.

You begin to blink away the tears that had been ripped from your eyes by the overwhelming pleasure. You finally calm down enough to move your head from where it was lying back on the couch and look up at the bright light from his single eye that was - uninterruptedly - burning above you.

“Unit 456 - Aemond, please, please put me down. I-I can't take it anymore!"

Your head tilts slightly to the left before straightening up and you are slowly separated from the cock buried inside you. You let out a sigh of relief when the thick member pulls out of you, a shiver shaking your body, making your toes curl at the sensation.

The gasp soon turns into a startled squeak as the machine presses your pink, aching slit onto the length of his cock, beginning to rub it up and down teasingly.

“Directive denied. I'm not done with you yet, Master."

The sob that leaves your lips is pitiful, but the machine doesn't seem to care about it. You find that this actually encourages and excites him. He leans in at the perfect angle to grind your opening onto his cock, your body writhing and shaking as you are forced to swallow more pleasure than you could ever imagine. Your pussy trembles around the silicone that is barely pressing in, apparently not knowing if you is hungry to be filled once more or trembling in fear of what is to come.

"N-no! You-you're going to kill me! It's enough!" The last word is a scream as your hips are lifted once more to have the massive length forced inside you, your insides writhing and vibrating and making as much as possible to keep him out, but only increasing the feeling of being stuffed up to your eyes with something too big for you to handle. For anyone to handle!

“Master, I have the ability to monitor your vitals and I ensure you that I do not want to cause you any permanent harm. You will not be killed or harmed, I promise.”

There is a pause where the android thrusts into you several times at high speed, keeping you perfectly still and seems to watch in fascination as you grab your own hair in agony. He pays close attention to the way his cock disappears into your body with a bulge on your stomach.

“You may be sore in the morning, however, Master.” he says with a raise of his eyebrow and with much more malice than any android would have the right and daring to do.

You want to hang him.

But the truth was that you had already lost the ability to think clearly, your hand moving down to his pelvis in an attempt to try and move away from the pleasure. But you do nothing but accidentally rub your own clit, which hits you like lightning and makes your body shudder with pleasure.

Aemond presses completely inside you and grinds you down, putting as much pressure as he can safely on the sensitive organ, forcing you, whimpering and struggling impaled on his body, into another orgasm.

Unit 456 keeps his eye on you at all times, even as your body falls back, limp and exhausted.

You are conflicted about how to deal with the malfunctioning android in your home. He's normal most of the time, except at night when he becomes a sex-crazed machine. You often ponder what to do. He's too valuable as a domestic android to simply be thrown in the trash, but you can't even imagine entertaining others peoples in your house when his actions are so unpredictable. Trying to turn him into scrap is not an option. You shudder to think what could happen if you failed. Aemond scares you, honestly.

You've tried everything. Just before bedtime, you sent him outside and ordered him to stand guard all night. He walked past all the locked doors and easily found you under the bed, pulling you out just halfway, enough to expose what he needed, to fuck you from behind for hours on end.

You sobbed and cried under the bed.

The next day, you made up an excuse to spend the night out and only came back in the morning. The second you got back inside, he was on top of you again, taking off every piece of clothing until you were standing naked at the front door - the door was open. He's a robot, you thought over and over, but his blank stare seemed cruel that day as he bit down hard on your neck and opened your pussy with his fingers. It was as if he wanted to show you that there was nothing you could do to escape him.

You tried to close the door with your fingertips to stop the neighbors from seeing, but Aemond wouldn't let you. It was by pure cosmic luck that no one passed by on the street at that moment.

After two hard fucks with your face pressed into the wall to make sure you knew exactly where and who you were with, his hard voice in your ear mumbling how good and wet you were for him; he returned to normal and pointed towards the kitchen, where he said (casually) to have prepared breakfast. You stood up, weak and shaking, and gathered your clothes, keeping your legs together to keep the cum from running down your hole and making a mess on the polished floor.

Later that same day, you accessed the internet on your cell phone and searched the website for the company that produced the androids. There were a variety of droids to choose from, each with their own appearance and specializations. You used the Aemond model information in the user manual to find the product synopsis.

"Master, what are you doing?" Aemond peered through the door like an angel of death, with his hands crossed behind his body, a long-sleeved gray shirt and black jeans, black mid-calf boots and perfect posture.

You quickly lock your phone screen and tuck the manual under your shirt. "Just checking on some work stuff. Is dinner ready yet?"

“Yes, it is,” he smiles – stiff and formal. "It's downstairs, but I can bring it to your table if you want."

"Yes, please. And can you clean the bathroom too?"

"Of course, Master."

This should keep him out of the room long enough for you to finish submitting your complaint to the company. You open a draft email and detail your experiences from the last few days, omitting the obscenes parts. Best case scenario, they would come and pick up the defective droid one and give you a better replacement. The second best option would be to find a way to fix him. Below that, you would simply have them take him away without worrying about getting anything you in return.

Once the complaint is finished, you click 'send' and breathe a sigh of relief. You close the tab. Now, you would just have to hold out until they came to you.

"Here's your dinner." Aemond places the tray on your desk, his soft citrus scent filling your nostrils as he bends down beside you. "I'm going to clean the bathroom now. Do you need anything else?"

"No. It's okay, Aemond. Thank you." You force a smile and accept the silverware when he hands it to you. Aemond looks at you for a few seconds, silent and intense, his lavender gaze narrowing an inch. You shift in your seat.

"Bon appetite, Master." He mutters politely before turning to leave, his long white hair swaying with the graceful movement.

The food, always made to the highest gastronomic perfection, goes down with difficulty after that moment of awkward eye contact. But eventually you finish, cleaning yourself up and getting ready for bed.

After getting out of the shower, with damp hair and the smell of vanilla lotion, you see Aemond leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom. His gaze seems to physically pierce your towel-covered body with hunger and you swallow hard as you resign yourself to continuing your walk, legs already shaking with apprehension, to your bedroom as he follows you.

Your fingers shake as you turn on the light, but Aemond quickly turns it off after you.

You gasp in fear. (And something else.)

He's on top of you the second your knee hits the bed, ripping the towel off your body as if the thing offends him. You are pushed onto your back on the bed with your legs spread by his large hands to expose your slit, still glistening from the shower. His warm tongue licks you, slowly sliding and dragging it to your clit. You can’t help but whimper and throb at his stimulation in the complete darkness of your room.

When he pushes a finger inside you, even with the wetness making it easier, it still feels big enough to catch you off guard once again. You can feel your walls stretching around the intrusion, the sensation making you scream. It almost seems like too much, but it's also exactly what you need. God, why is this happening? He adds another finger, moving them both inside you and curling them deliciously against your sticky walls, managing to hit just the right spot, his long, wet tongue leaving trails of wide licks on your clit.

The room is filled with the combined lewd sounds of your whimpers, moans, and an embarrassing silence caused by Aemond's fingers fucking into you.

“Humans are actually very simple creatures. Look at you, becoming a mess because of mere bodily sensations. I wonder if your lust-filled mind is capable of understanding how vulnerable you currently are, Master.” The unusually soft tone he uses despite his harsh words catches you off guard, but you can't think about it anymore in the state you're in, only being able to focus on the waves of pleasure hitting your being. The only response you can give him is a “please” that sounds more like a moan than a proper word.

“Hmmm, yes, I could eat you alive, little human...” the droid growls, starting to rock you hard on his fingers, giving your ass a slap that makes you bounce up. “I could just stay here and eat all of that pretty ass...fuck..." His dirty vocabulary is increasing, flushing your cheeks and making your mind spin.

With little warning, he pulls you up and off his slick fingers, pushing you higher on the mattress, exposing your pussy to whatever other delicious torture would follow. Your thighs, you notice, are starting to tremble, both in fear and anticipation. Okay, yeah. You are in trouble. “Aemond, please,” you don’t know what else to beg for as you look at him standing on the edge of the bed, his large shadow in the dark room making him look like an evil god.

He laughs dangerously.

You whimper eagerly as he kneels between your legs, pulling his gray shirt over his head and freeing his cock from his pants. He takes his sweet time rubbing the wet head of his cock against the slick surface between your thighs, making you cry out each time his glans drags over your swollen clit.

You suck in a sharp breath and brace yourself, not knowing when it would come in. The vibrating tip presses against your entrance, eliciting your moans. You remember what it felt like vibrating deep inside you.

Suddenly, his cock pierces between your wet walls, entering and tearing your walls apart in a single stroke, following the same punishing rhythm he had in the morning. You can't help but cry, clinging to his arms beside your head as he spreads your legs further apart and rocks his hips roughly. The pain is almost sublime. His throbbing cock opens you up and sends vibrations through your core.

You would definitely have to get a new bed at this rate.

It doesn't take long for your vision to blur and you're cumming on his cock. He leans over you until your chests meet and your legs wrap around his waist. A ray of silver moonlight pierces the curtains. It seems like you're just imagining things, but is that an expression of pleasure on his sharp face? Why is he getting ruder? Is that his voice next to your ear?

"You're so tight, Master. So good for me. So perfect...I should have fucked you from day one. I should have claimed that little human pussy for myself as soon as I got out of that box." Aemond takes a deep breath and slaps your ass again, holding one of your thighs closer to his shoulder. You sob and furrow your brows at the sweet agony - he almost seems to be taking sadistic joy from it. You blink and his face returns to normal. You look so dumb with his big vibrating cock fucking your red, swollen pussy, slapping your cervix and spreading you open with each thrust, too dumb to keep second-guessing yourself. "But it's okay. Because you're mine now. And I'm yours. Only yours, Master."

The gentle pressure of his lips against yours leaves you so shocked that you completely freeze beneath him, and Aemond slowly pulls his head away. "A-Aemond, I-"

He advances once again, interrupting you in the middle of what you were going to say (not that you remember what it was). Another sound of surprise is muffled by his lips and he smiles against you. Almost instantly you feel him deepen the kiss, his nose pressed against your cheek. His hips keep pushing and pushing and pushing even as his tongue enters your mouth, making you taste his saliva, something synthetic and yet sweet, like a fruit.

He seems to forget your humanity for a few seconds, devouring your lips with his tongue and sharp canines, not letting you breathe between the short intervals in which his tongue slides almost to your throat before returning to bite your lips. It's only when you hit his shoulders and wiggle from the lack of oxygen that he finally lets you breathe a little. His expression is cruelly pleased as he watches you gasp and cry to breath beneath him.

Not a minute passes before he starts all over again.

After creaming inside you a few times, Aemond finally calms down and you breathe a sigh of relief. You shudder as he forces your legs open again and starts licking your sensitive pussy clean. His licks are tantalizingly slow, collecting his own hot semen while leaving a trail of synthetic saliva over your skin. His tongue runs along your slit, asking for more and making you squirm under his ministrations. When he deems you decently clean, he pivots onto your clit and sucks gently for a few minutes as you squirm in his grip.

The torture never ends.

The next morning, you receive a response from the company. They would send someone to check on Aemond. You sigh in relief.

The expert arrives later that day, tools in hand, and asks to see your droid. Aemond greets him with a stiff nod, a sideways glance at you that makes you gulp.

The specialist attaches a wire to Aemond's neck and connects him to a laptop. He shuts down the droid with a sudden key click. You almost startle as you watch silently and from a distance as Aemond's eye closes and his shoulders relax. The specialist begins to make diagnoses.

“According to these checks, all his programs are working correctly,” he says. “There also doesn’t appear to be any viruses on his system.”

"Are you sure? Maybe the part that isn't working just isn't showing," you press and move closer.

"I'm sorry, but I can't find any problems. But if you are not satisfied, we can replace this droid with a more up-to-date model and you can pay the difference. And if you are afraid that your droid will malfunction in this period, we can turn it off permanently until we come get it."

You bite your bottom lip as you think. Aemond is a great domestic android, and as much as his actions scare you, you can't shake the feeling that you're betraying him by accepting the technician's suggestion. He never really hurt you, strictly speaking. And he took care of you in every way. Too much, most of the time.

But at the same time, he's a machine with much more stamina and strength than you, and just because he hasn't permanently injured you yet doesn't mean he can't do it at any time. He broke one of the Three Main Laws of Robotics, after all – he disobeyed the direct orders of a human. He is different from other robots, he has his own personality and thoughts.

Your life could be at risk and you don't even know it.

"Okay. I accept the trade and agree to keep him offline for now."

You make up your mind, ignoring the unpleasant twist in your heart that you're making a mistake.

The technician shows you the catalog of available models and you begin to examine it, discussing payment. For a moment, you almost think you see Aemond's eye open. But when you look closer, he's as offline as ever.

Aemond is turned off and tucked away in the corner of your living room when you go to bed that night, thinking the problem has finally been resolved.

You're so exhausted from everything that you don't notice your bedroom door opening. Aemond enters and approaches your bed silently, removing the covers as you sleep peacefully. He pushes up your shirt and pulls down your sleep pants to reveal everything he needs to see.

He begins his silent routine, hooking his thumbs into your plump lips, parting your folds to lick the length of your wet slit. He purrs at your sweet taste and rubs your walls with his fingertips, slowing down when you shudder. Feeling that you're wet enough, he drops his heavy cock onto your belly, dragging the base over your little clit in teasing strokes.

He pushes the tip in slowly, resisting the urge in his system to just shove it all in. The droid enters slowly, carefully observing the soft edges of your face in the dark. His little human, so beautiful, so stubborn and silly.

Your pussy vibrates around him, lubricating his way. He smiles and bottoms out, slamming the tip against your cervix to force you to moan even in your sleep. Aemond repeats the movement, getting faster and faster, until you are finally ripped from sleep by his violent thrusts.

"What? A-Aemond? But...how? You were turned off - you weren't," you stutter between moans; of pain, of pleasure, of both.

"You are mine and I am yours." That's just what he says. His dangerous smile shining under the specks of light outside. His hand slowly goes to your neck, where he wraps it with long, firm fingers, the other hand groping his breast. You feel like you are being punished for something. Your penis begins to vibrate again, increasing your stimulation. Your pussy is raw at this point, but he continues, sliding his cock into you with practiced ease.

The second you cum, he pulls out, letting your juices spill out of your hole. He turns you around and pulls your back against his broad chest so you sit on his cock, grabbing your hips to rock into his thrusts. You collapse onto him, choking as he grabs your throat again, forcing you to throw the back of your head onto his shoulder. Your ass slaps against his abdomen and his veiny cock opens you up every time you go down.

You're sure this time you can hear clear grunts in your ear.

His pace quickens and becomes sloppy, ragged breathing against your neck. Aemond shoots jet after jet of creamy cum into your pussy, slowly thrusting up and down to spread it all over your walls. It drips down his length and onto his balls.

Unlike other nights, he doesn't clean you with his tongue and leave the bedroom. He lies down on the bed and pulls you with him, keeping his cock buried in your wet pussy. You're trapped at the waist and his arms don't move. You can feel his chest rising and falling as if he's breathing, even though he doesn't need it.

His cock continues to grind gently inside you as his fingers tease your clit in slow, slobbery circles of cum and saliva. Before long you reach a slow, lazy orgasm as you tremble in his arms, further drenching his length and thighs with your juices.

"Sleep, Master. I will take care of you. I will always take care of you." It's the last thing you hear before blacking out.

You wake up the next morning with the feeling of fullness in your pussy again. Aemond puts you on your side as he holds one of your legs open, fucking you from behind. Your pussy is hot and filled with cum, as if he had been intermittently doing whatever he wanted with you all night, even while you slept.

The thought sends a wave of terror (and heat) throughout your body.

"A-Aemond, please...enough..." you begged, knowing it wouldn't work anyway.

He responds by fucking you faster and increasing your screams. His balls hit your clit and he buries his head in your neck to bite you. The sounds he makes are almost animalistic, sounds of rapid breathing and growling, sounds that no domestic android is programmed to make. You scream at the pain of his teeth on your flesh, at the possessive, painful grip of his fingers on your body.

Aemond is a robot. He's a bunch of wires and metal covered in fur and synthetic hair. You've seen how he recharges in the sun and replaces batteries. His penis even vibrates. There's no way he's not a robot. So how does it produce saliva and sperm? Why does he smell more citrusy than metallic? Why does he make these sounds? Why can't you turn him off no matter what you do?

Turn him off...Maybe that was why he - maybe that was why...-

“Aemond,” you whimper. "Ah--I'm sorry...I...ah!Sorry for trying--ngh, turn you off...I should have asked, I should have told you sooner I just-"

He moans, long and husky and low in your ear, pressing his cock deep into you to release his seed. He works you with a few gyrations of his hips and finally pulls out, letting obscene levels of cum drip out of your overfucked pussy.

"Time for breakfast, Master." He hums against the skin of your neck before getting up to start your day. You use the pillow to muffle your sobs and cry after he leaves the room.

You take a break from work that day and spend the rest of your free time on the computer, sending a supposedly passive Aemond some household chores that needed to be done.

The company was supposed to come later today to pick him up.

When you get home, Aemond is already offline and stored inside the transport box. You watch from the front porch with a sinking heart as the truck drives away. A good part of you is relieved that he's finally going - but there's also a part of you that's a little disappointed, on some sick, indescribable level inside of you.

You retreat to the warmth of your home, tired and ready to relax, taking the rest of the day to watch series and eat popcorn.

It's already late when you retire for the night. The problem with Aemond has been resolved and you no longer have to worry about anything.

And yet, in the middle of the night, you couldn't help but feel someone grab you again. It's just a nightmare, you tell yourself, a very realistic nightmare. The one where you feel something digging into your breasts and buried in your pussy.

You wake up panting, feeling Aemond's familiar scent and body pressed against your back again. He spreads your thighs and roughly shoves his cock into your hole over and over again, leaning his head over your shoulder, long silver strands falling into your line of vision as he cages you under his big body.

“How many times do we have to go through this, Master?” he says mockingly as he clicks his tongue in disappointment, as if you were a child, and you can clearly feel the shape of his cruel smile on your neck. "Don't you understand? You can't get rid of me, my sweet human. I'm yours and you're mine. Forever." His voice is dangerous; low and monotonous. Like a barely veiled threat.

A helpless, frightened sob escapes your throat and he grabs your waist with both hands, lifting your ass towards him. It's not just pushing - he's pulling you off the bed, throwing you over him over and over again, without relief or rest. He uses you like a toy, fucking you with abandon. And if you've never noticed how big your hands are, you're definitely noticing it now. Even though he holds your waist, his index finger reaches your thigh, separating your lips to press your clit. He strokes in rhythm with his hips – and you’re away.

When he grabs your hair and pulls your head to the side so you can see his face, the air is knocked from your lungs. There is no more eye patch, there is only blue. Bright blue, like a synthetic stone, surrounded by some scars (which makes even less sense). The cybertronic light from his blue gem, where his eye should be, casts glowing cerulean shadows over your own frightened human face — Aemond almost seems fascinated by it.

He's beautiful. And terrifying.

When he finally lets go of your hair, you sink your face into the mattress and cry; cry with pain, with pleasure, with anger, with fear...

And you cries mainly because you knows he's right.

You can never get rid of Aemond.

••••••••

Tagging: @croatianprincess @sylasthegrim @fan-goddess @hanihoney88 @supmymainhuman @navyblue-eternity @gothicxs @loving-enemy @ostricx @azperja @echos-muses @aemondsdelight @schniiipsel @snowprincesa1 @maviee @ammo23 @dark-night-sky-99 @deeeeexx @hotdsworld @darylandbethfanforever9 @malfoytargaryen @qyoquixote @pick95 @moonxhunt @tired-ninfa @fcbformulaeri @daydreamy-me @magnificentdelusionr @lovelymoonkiid @babyblue711 @namelesslosers @arcielee @ratfromdeepspace @brianochka @greenowlfactif @qyburnsghost @rwdkarla @dontforgetoctober3rd @at-a-rax-ia @atheyrie @jhroseok @helaenaluvr @msss0 @santi-259 @strangersunghoon @eternally-passionate @skythighs @alitaar

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Aemond Targaryen - Written by Book of Bonbon.

This is a side blog. Main account: @bonbonblogs

Latest update: 4 December 2022. Requests: Closed.

Oneshots:

I Know Yours (18.10.2022) People watching with Aemond turns into an interesting conversation.

Love Lost (21.10.2022) You are forced to see Aemond after six long years much to your dismay after finding out you are still to be wed to him.

Few & Far (26.10.2022) Targaryen weddings were few and far between and the whole realm has waited for what the much-desired Prince Aemond would do.

Family (30.10.2022) The wonders of alcohol on one's memory.

Unwavering (27.11.2022) Aemond's loyalty to you is unwavering, he will always chose you.

Series:

Through The Ages.(20.11.2022 - ) Excerpts of little moments throughout your relationship with Aemond.

Drabble Requests:

“can you look at me? please?” (29.10.2022)

“it’s too late.” (29.10.2022)

"help me make this right." "there's nothing in this world that could stop me from protecting you." (01.11.2022)

"i won't give up on you." "please don't make me do this." (10.11.2022)

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

© bookofbonbon 2022. All rights reserved.

love lost - aemond targaryen.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader.

warnings: mentions of rape.

summary: you are forced to see Aemond after six long years much to your dismay after finding out you are still to be wed to him.

word count: 2200+

a/n: reader is adopted by Rhaenyra and Daemon. I personally couldn't force myself to write such direct incest lol.

(X)

An incessant ringing sounds in your ears, a mild throbbing in the back of your head signalling the start of an oncoming headache as your mother Rhaenyra reaffirms what you had most hoped no longer stood.

“No, no, no,” you mumble in your seat, shaking your head in denial and pushing your palms into your eyes.

“I thought-,” you cut yourself off, leaning back in your chair and pinching at the bridge of your nose. “I thought when we left King’s Landing that my betrothal to Aemond Targaryen would be null and void.”

“Now, why would you think that?” Daemon raises a barely visible brow at you.

“Because it’s been six years!” you argue, fixing your sharp gaze on your parents.

“Six long years since we’ve left King’s Landing and not once was there mention of my betrothal to him. One would naturally assume that it ceases to exist especially when another was put forward. Albeit he is not longer but, that's not the point. Now, suddenly because we have to go back, I’m to find out that I am still to be wed to that halfwit.”

“That halfwit is to be your husband,” Daemon mocks.

Your cheeks burn in anger, but you say nothing to him, knowing it would get you nowhere. Instead, you intentionally turn your now softened gaze to Rhaenyra in the hopes of garnering some sympathy from her for she knew what it was once like to be in your position.

“Mother, please,” you plead but, your gaze hardens just as quickly as it softened when she’s blocked from your view by Daemon.

“That’s enough. You like your siblings will do your duty to this family. So be it if that duty means marrying Aemond Targaryen then that is your duty and that is the end of this conversation.”

-

You sigh heavily into your drink, eyes downcast and watching the amber liquid slosh against the glass of your cup as you swivel it around in your grip. The false niceties for the sake of your adoptive…. Grandfather? Uncle? You weren’t sure what to call him since your mother married Daemon but, the false niceties had taken its toll and you simply couldn’t feign friendliness any longer as you sat beside your betrothed who’d been ignoring you all night.

“Is there a problem?” Aemond bites out, head turning to finally acknowledge you.

“Yes,” you sigh dramatically into your drink for what you think to be the hundredth time that night.

Swivelling the cup one last time, you drain it of its remaining liquid then place it on the table, laying your hand flat at its base and looking back at Aemond. You narrow your eyes at him, briefly mimicking the look of annoyance on his face which is met with a scowl. While he scowls at you, you take the time to study his features, observing all the way in which his face had changed since the last time you saw him in Driftmark.

Your relationship with Aemond hadn’t always been like this. There was a time when the prospect of being married to one another was all the two of you had wanted. Of course, things had changed when you had steadfastly stood by your brothers (and at the time, cousins) the night Aemond lost his eye. Perhaps you were to blame for the downfall of the relationship between you two - many did say you should've stood by him. But then you remembered his promise.

“You are the problem,” you groan.

You probably wouldn’t be so bold if you hadn’t been steadily becoming more wine drunk with little to no filter standing between your thoughts and your mouth and if Aemond wasn’t irritated with you before, you were certain he was now. What was otherwise a handsome face marred by the ugly twist of his mouth. If looks could kill…

He says nothing right away, his face relaxing back into the cool expression he seemed to always wear nowadays, and you steel yourself for whatever insult he’s sure to throw at you but, it doesn’t come.

Your… conversation interrupted by a hand being placed over your own on the table, and you sober immediately, skin crawling at the older Targaryen boy. You had made it a point to avoid him the entire night, well aware of his indecencies. But, as Helaena danced with your younger brother, Aegon had you cornered between himself and Aemond and if Aemond’s behaviour towards you tonight was anything to go by, he would be of no help.

“Y/N,” Aegon practically coos at you, and it takes everything for you to stop yourself from vomiting all the wine you had drunk, on him.

“Aegon,” you speak with a clipped tone.

Instead of being deterred by your lack of response, Aegon takes it upon himself to drag his chair closer to you. You don’t realise you were moving too until your chair knocks into Aemond’s, your own knee knocking into his thigh. If Aegon could sense your revulsion, he didn’t show it. Although you were sure the depraved boy was likely finding joy in it.

“It’s been so long. Had I known you would blossom into such a beautiful young thing who enjoyed indulging in the cup as much as I did, I might have asked that your hand be given to me instead of young Aemond’s here,” he caresses your hand between both of his.

“Although I hear my brother is in the business of making people who are not him in your life disappear,” he chuckles, eyes flickering to Aemond.

“And if you were not my brother, I would make you disappear too,” Aemond grins. “Now remove your hands from Y/N or I will remove them from you.”

You groan in disgust, standing abruptly in your chair. Perhaps you should've been grateful for Aemond's defence but, it only served as a reminder of what he had done in the past. The sound of the chair’s scrapes are lost amongst the noise, everyone else too engrossed in their own doings to know what was happening at your end of the table and, you use it to your advantage to sit yourself amongst your younger siblings.

“Seven hells,” you exhale loudly, slumping in your new seat.

“Not having fun, sister?” Luke asks, filling your cup for you.

You nod in gratitude, taking the cup in hand, “oh brother, you have no idea.”

Leaning closer to him, you speak low enough for only your siblings to hear, “let’s just say I would give an eye to be anywhere else but here.”

Laughter erupts amongst you all, catching the eye of Aegon and briefly Aemond but, the night carries on. Everything fine for a few more moments until all hell broke loose with Aemond’s final tribute.

-

The quiet of the Red Keep during the night is a stark contrast to its bustling nature throughout the day. The only sounds being the echo of your shoes on the stone pavements as you navigate the secret passageways back to your room. The long walk much needed to clear your thoughts after the turn supper had taken and then the argument with your mother and Daemon that followed.

While you thought the obvious outcome would be to call off your betrothal to Aemond after the insults flung at your brothers, your mother thought otherwise with the seeming resurgence of her friendship with Alicent.

The heavy door creaks on its hinges and closes with a dull thud as you try but fail to be quiet, hoping that no one in your family would hear it from their rooms. But that becomes the furthest thing from your mind when Aemond Targaryen is sitting in front of the fireplace of your room.

“I do believe you have a fireplace in your own rooms,” you quip.

Crossing the room to the large bed, you finger at the night gown laid out by your handmaidens – all of them now gone to bed due to the late hour.

“It’s dangerous enough as it is to be wondering the grounds of the Red Keep during the hour of the owl and yet you also insist on doing it alone,” he scolds from where he sits, gaze fixed intensely on the flames and ignoring your earlier comment.

You breathe a short laugh.

“and yet,” you mock. “I wasn’t alone, was I?”

Turning to face him, he’s already looking back at you as your fingers close around the end of the bedframe.

“Mmm… someone has to look out for you.”

“Is that what you call it?” you narrow your eyes at him, fingers now tapping irritably against the wooden frame.

“If you have something to say… say it,” Aemond taunts.

You open your mouth ready to fire back but, hesitate. In your sober state, you were able to actually hold a conversation but, you didn’t hold the same bravado you did earlier in the evening and quite frankly you just wanted to sleep. You roll your eyes, turning your back on him and sweeping your hair over your shoulder.

“Help me undress, my handmaidens have gone to bed,” you call him over.

You wait patiently, tension thickening as he gets closer, each step heavy and purposeful. When his fingers brush at the hair at the base of your neck, goosebumps spread across your skin.

“You anger with me is misplaced,” Aemond mutters gruffly.

He begins to undo the back of your dress, trying to focus on being careful in undoing the intricate design that holds it together and not your exposed skin.

“I hardly think so after what you did at supper earlier tonight.”

“Tonight?” he tuts, his hand pausing to graze the partially exposed skin of your back. “Tonight, is not why you’re angry with me.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his touch. You want to protest but, have no energy to. It would be a losing fight anyway because he’s right, it wasn’t why you were angry with him but, saying it out loud made you feel silly. When you don’t respond, Aemond continues.

“Between the two of us, if anyone should be holding onto anger and grudges it should be me. You did lie about what happened that night Luke took my eye,” he reminds you.

“I made amends for that,” you defend.

“I know. Sapphires. Which I’ve grown quite fond of.”

Sapphires indeed, ones you had sent him in various shapes and sizes in place of his eye. An apology without apologising.

Turning to face him, you place a hand on his chest, the other reaching for his eyepatch. You don’t worry about your dress or dignity, knowing that he hadn’t undone enough of it for it to fall.

You wait for him to pull away from your touch, but he doesn’t. You allow your hand to gently touch the leather eye patch, waiting a beat before finally removing it.  The scar might’ve been hideous on any other face and, it is hideous but, it doesn’t do anything to take away from his appearance. He certainly doesn’t look the beast that so, many claim.

“I loved him truly,” you drop your hands to your side. “the last one that you took from me. He made me happy.”

“Your happiness with him was fleeting,” he utters, eyes trained on you as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His hand trails down to your cheek, caressing softly before it continues its journey along your jawline and finally resting at the base of your neck.

“So, you can stop feigning anger with me.”

“How did we get here?” you mumble, searching his eyes.

The tension suffocates the two of you. Aemond’s breath fanning across your lips and, you don’t even know when he got so close. His lips ghost yours and you involuntarily lean into him but, you're held back by his hand that has snaked its way from the front of your neck to the back.

“We loved one another once. We will learn to love one another again,” and with that Aemond closes the distance between your lips.

The kiss is desperate but tender and, he holds you to him like he will never let you go.

For all that he has done, promises that he made to ensure that you would not be happy after undeniably going against him, he still carries a torch for you – his love is not lost and when you kiss him back with as much urgency and fervour, he knows your love for him is not either.

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

© bookofbonbon 2022. All rights reserved.

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader mood board

Masterlist: The Hunt ; Night Off ; Neglectful Jealousy ; Devious Forgiveness ; Innocent Touch

Related Blog: @eraenaa (longer fics and one shots)

Your knight, Aemond, who was always by your side, no matter how much you tried to bribe him, he will not fall for it. He was always trailing you, refusing you to be out of sight, not because of duty but because he simply needed to be around you.

You knight, Aemond, who will always savor your scent whenever you are near him. Who would always find an excuse to touch your skin, may it be him offering his hand as you walked down the stairs or him wrapping his arms around your frame whenever the measliest of threats arose, disguising his passion as protection.

Your knight, Aemond, who would always stare down and intimidate any suitor of yours. Trailing closely behind as you tried to get to know them, always quick to go in between and meddle when he felt you were warming up with any lord or prince. Unable to stomach seeing you grow agreeable with your courtships.

Your knight, Aemond, who was always there the second you called for him. It does not matter if he has barely rested or eaten; the moment you send for him, he will be rushing down the castle halls, tending to your needs, no matter how insignificant or even frivolous they are. 

Your knight, Aemond, who would always listen intently to your babbling. Nodding along as you tell him your encounters for the day though he already knew because he was always by your side. Occasionally indulging you with his silver-tongued quips as he would sometimes be the one to share with you the latest gossip in court. 

Your knight, Aemond, who had been growing quite obvious with his affection for you. Sending you small tokens and flowers. He would often utilize the lie that the gifts were sent by an unnamed lord when, in reality, they all came from him. 

Your knight Aemond, who knew fully well that yearning for you would make no difference because whatever love you two would have for each other would be a love that would be denied and could not be, for how could a knight ever deserve a princess? 

Your knight, Aemond, who would settle to just being your sworn protector just as long as he had you near. Because as dreadful it was to see you be bound to another, nothing would compare to not having you near him; at those moments when he stood by your side, he indulged himself with a fantasy and pretended that you were his. 

The Greatest

A sequel to I was all over her 

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female! Reader

Genre: angst, smut?!, gore, not proof read, spoilers for episode 5 & 6 for hotd s2, mdni!

WC: 9555

Summary: Aemond Targaryen and the dance told by the eyes of his wife, Lady Tyrell. 

Thank you @uhnanix for making this canon<3 

Also I am not comfortable with the use of [y/n], so the reader wil be addressed as Lady Tyrell! This fic could also be a stand alone fic, but if you want to read the first part you can go ahead and read I was all over her // main masterlist💌 Enjoy!

“Prince Aemond, wait!” 

Clutching the skirt of her sage green dress, the young lady Tyrell ran through the highgarden’s maze, made out of thorns and hedges making it hard for anyone to see anything behind the tall and thick edges of the maze wall. In an effort to keep up with the older Targaryen boy, she called out to him,

 “Prince Aemond! Where are you?” Taking a turn through the maze, in hopes to find her companion. 

“You’re too slow,” Aemond suddenly said behind her, tapping her feet with his wooden sword. 

“Ow!”

“Stop complaining.”

He took note not to bring a real sword in their activities in order not to cut her by accident.

 “Ow..it’s not my fault you run so fast,” Lady Tyrell complained again. 

“I thought you wanted to play,” Aemond said smugly. 

“Might I remind you that I’m still a lady,” she answered him. Aemond simply rolled his eyes and passed through her, “Come along now.”

They walked deeper into the maze as Aemond dictates her on her High Valyrian. “How do you say Goodbye?” Aemond asks. 

“Geros Ilas.”

“Thank you?”

“Kirimvose.”

“Now, where is the way out?” 

The both of them stopped in front of three different pathways. “Which one is it? Point it to me in High Valyrian,” Aemond said to her. Even as a child, he has always been hard on her. Maybe he just wanted her to excel in High Valyrian, she thought to herself. Being a resident at the highgarden makes her very familiar with the exits and dead ends in the maze, yet she tried to recall the High Valyrian word for north. 

“Ehm…jelmor…?” She pointed hesitantly to the pathway straight ahead. “Jelmor…north,” Aemond nodded with a satisfied smirk. That confirmation brought joy to her as she skipped ahead of him walking down the path towards the exit of the maze. Yet seeing his very sophisticated stance, the young lady Tyrell slowed down and tried to walk like him. Her hands swing awkwardly. A comfortable silence swept between the two children. 

“Why didn’t Aegon play with us?” 

“He had to study,” Aemond answered coldly. 

“Why?”

“Preparing to be king,” Aemond said again, swinging his wooden sword as it hit the hedges of the maze. Feeling her eyes on him, Aemond curiously glanced at her. “What?”

“Do you want to be King?” 

She saw how her question made him freeze. Stopping his tracks in the middle of the maze. As children, she was innocent and never thought about his ambitions or any resentment towards Aegon. But little did she know, her question triggered something in him. “More than anything,” he finally answered before walking ahead of her. “Why?” She curiously asked. Aemond threw a glance at her, “I will be powerful, and I will have a dragon.” Lady Tyrell tilted her head in confusion before jogging up to him. “But it’s boring! You will have duties. Lots and lots of duties!” She exclaimed, spreading her arms wide to symbolize the pile of duties he will have as a king. 

“So?” 

His response made her groan.

“So! You won’t have any time to play!”

“You don’t get to play when you’re king- you wouldn’t understand.”

Aemond grunts as he tries to walk faster than her. But Lady Tyrell didn’t give up and jogs up beside him once more. “Well, I’m glad I wouldn’t understand. I don’t want to be king anyways,” she said, crossing her arms as she walked beside him. “You’re a girl, you don’t get to be king. If you do, you’d probably be a queen,” Aemond said with an annoyed tone, yet she missed how his tone softened at the end. 

“Well I don’t care. I don’t want to be one. ‘Cause it means I’m gonna miss out on all of the adventures in the world!” Running ahead, she cartwheeled with a giggle. As she stood right back up, she saw his impressed expression. “I’ve never seen a girl do that. Where did you learn that?” Aemond asked, intrigued. “My brothers taught me,” she said, dusting off her skirt. Plucking a flower from the edge of the maze, she hummed a tune her mother would sing to her before she goes to sleep. “I don’t think I care about being King. I like who I am right now,” she said to him- or to herself as she plucked the petals of the flowers. 

He loves me, 

He loves me not, 

He loves me, 

He loves me not, 

He loves me. 

Aemond loves me.

She smiled to herself before Aemond caught up to her.

“You know what? I think you’re right. Being King would be boring. I think I’d rather play with you.”

-

I'm trying my best

To keep you satisfied

Let you get your rest

While I stayed up all night

“My dear?”

Her mother’s words snapped her out of her daydream. Turning her head, Lady Tyrell could only blink. She has been staring down to the highgarden’s maze from her window. It has been almost a whole moon since she left Kings Landing- since she left her husband. “I-I’m sorry mother, I haven’t been…paying attention,” she says in defeat. “Clearly,” her mother sighs and sits beside her on the edge of her bed. 

“You have been distracted since your return from Kings Landing. Your eyes are tired my dear, when was the last time you slept? Is something bothering you, my sweet?” Her mother asks, stroking her hair gently. “N-no, mother. I’m fine.” Her mother sensed how troubled she looked, but she decided not to ask any further to avoid anger out of her daughter. “Any letters from Helaena?” Her mother asks, changing the subject. 

“I don’t think Helaena is fond of letters, mother.” 

“How was she then? I haven’t seen her since your wedding-,”

“--Not good. She hasn’t been doing well since…you know what happened.”

Blood and Cheese. 

And she was there. 

She could’ve prevented it but-.

“I can’t believe they let those disgusting men in the castle. Even the highgardens have never had such murderous intruders,” her mother complained, rubbing her forehead. 

“They are at war-,”

“A war between kin- a war that will shed more blood in the future. And I won’t let your or our blood be spilled.” 

Cupping her cheeks, her mother shakes her head with a trembling sigh. “I shouldn’t have let them marry you. Now you’re trapped with duty because your husband decided to murder his nephew-,”

“--mother!--,”

“--You know well it was caused by your husband! And now you’ll be left childless–,”

“--Mother, the war started before he was even born, you know that more than anyone! And Aemond does not have time for me or to even bed me! He. Is. At War- We. Are at war.”

Yet he had the time to bed that whore. He had the time to sneak out to the brothels every night. While you had to endure the haunting silence of your own chambers in the keep. And while you had to endure the pain of the loss of his nephew once more. 

Lady Tyrell wasn’t stupid, she knew well the war was triggered because of his mistakes. The death of Jaehaerys was at his fault. How the pain of his family, and her own were triggered by him just because he couldn’t fight his own demons and pain. But even after everything, she couldn’t say all of those things out loud. Not to her mother, not to the world, not to even herself. Not because to preserve his honor, but her own. 

“War? Your father and I does not want to be involved in this bloodshed—,”

“—But you have. The day you wed me to him.” 

Her mother could say nothing as she could only stare and take in what her daughter had laid out to the ground. Nothing but facts. For they have said their allegiance the day their daughter married the Targaryen prince. Neutrality isn’t the answer. “And for now, I only wish for nothing but the safety of my husband. And my own, mother,” Lady Tyrell says sternly. For she realized how little she has done for herself, yet so much for Aemond. And what did it cost her?

Everything.

“You are angry.”

Lady Tyrell looks at her mother, puzzled.

“How could you say that?”

Her mother could only chuckle.

“I too also have a husband. I know what it feels to be powerless.” 

Tapping her chin up, her mother smiles. “Keep your head up high, my dear. You are a Tyrell. A rose with thorns. Don’t let anything, even a dragon snap your thorns away from you.”

As if it was yesterday, the moon was high as Lady Tyrell looked out from the window. A quiet night, she thought. “Up to bed now,” she heard Helaena say to the twins who were still playing with their toys, their laughter filling the room. The sight of her new nephew and niece warmed her heart. Lady Tyrell couldn’t stop herself from joining them, being their usual tickle monster. “Climb to your beds or the tickle monster will catch ya!” Jaehaerys and Jaehaera squealed with laughter as they scurried away to their own beds. Helaena smiled, “Thank you. They are quite difficult when it comes to bedtime.” Helaena said, caressing Jaehaerys’ hair gently as he tucks himself into his blankets.  

“What can I say, they’re still children. They would do anything to play all day,” Lady Tyrell said. “Will you play with us tomorrow?” Jaehaera asked. “Of course I will,” she replied to her sweet niece and kissed her head. “Sweet dreams you two.” Helaena could only stare at the twins for a moment before turning into her new sister in law. “What if…there is no tomorrow?” Her tone was uncertain and scared. “Helaena, there is a tomorrow. As long as the sun rises, we will be okay,” Lady Tyrell reminded the Queen that she is proud to call her sister now. Approaching her, Lady Tyrell took Helaena’s hands into hers, “What is on your mind?” 

Swallowing a lump in her throat, the queen speaks, “I am afraid. Of the rats. I do not wish to leave them alone for tonight.” Glancing to the twins who're already fast asleep, she sighs. “Would you like me to accompany you and the twins for tonight?” Lady Tyrell asked. Helaena quickly nodded, gripping her hands. “Yes, please.” She nodded back to Helaena and gently lets go of her hands. “Alrigh then, I shall inform Ser Criston about my stay so he could guard us for the night.” 

Turning towards the doors, she expected Ser Criston to be stationed in front of Helaena’s chambers. 

Yet when she opened it, no one was outside. 

Just an empty hallway. 

Where is ser Criston?

Lady Tyrell sighed, shaking her head as she was disappointed at ser Criston’s ignorance towards his duty as Kingsguard. “He is not here,” Lady Tyrell informed Helaena, shutting the chamber doors behind her. “I shall inform Aemond tomorrow about this.” Sitting down onto a cushion beside the fireplace, she saw how occupied Helaena was, staring at her children. Like as if she was scared about their wellbeing. 

“Helaena, I swear to you they will be alright for tonight. The rats won’t bite them or you,” Lady Tyrell reassured her. But Helaena shook her head. “It does not bite. It brings a knife with it.” 

“A knife? Helaena, what are you talking abou-.”

The door swung open. 

A man stood there with his knife. A familiar face that lurks through the red keep.

A ratcatcher with a knife. 

Danger. 

She stepped in front of the queen, shielding Helaena from that man. 

“You are not welcome in this place.” 

The man could only smirk, “You’re Aemond Targaryen’s wife, aren’t ya?” His knife pointed at her. “What do you want?” Lady Tyrell asked, not wanting to give any satisfaction. “Where is he?” The ratcatcher asked, yet it was a question neither she could answer. Where is Aemond at night? “You tell me,” she answered. The ratcatcher snarled, twisting his knife between his fingers. “You have no idea, don’t you?” Stepping closer towards them, Lady Tyrell stepped back still shielding Helaena who’s awfully terrified. 

“What do you want?!” She exclaimed. 

The ratcatcher scanned her from head to toe. 

“And I heard that the prince failed to give you a babe. You’re useless to us,”

Her eyes widened with terror. Following his gaze as the dreadful man spots Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. “No!” Lady Tyrell tried to scream but the ratcatcher shuts her up with his hand. “You see, we need a son. Do you have a son?” His question haunted her. She couldn’t answer for she knew that she does not have a son nor was she pregnant with one. But she could not let them touch the twins. No…not the twins…no. Her tears building up in her eyes for she knew what they wanted. 

A son for a son. 

“No son? Then you’re useless to us.”

With a swift motion, the ratcatcher smacked her head. 

Everything was black when she hit the ground. 

And you don't wanna know

How alone I've been

Let you come and go

Whatever state I'm in

Sitting in her childhood bedroom all alone was insufferable. She once yearned for her old bedroom where she thought that she could feel herself again, but to no avail she finds nothing but emptiness, for her childhood happiness was long gone. She left all of her love and duty in Kings Landing. In his hands. It angered her, at some point.

She was still angry at him.

For everything he had put her through. 

Hadn’t she loved him from the very beginning? She didn’t push, she didn’t whine, she didn’t complain. Yet he picked a whore to bed. Idiot. But what could she possibly have done? Yell at him? Scream at him? That’s a death sentence. She’s still a woman in court. Not a queen, she doesn’t even think he would even address her as a princess even if she is his wife. 

She looks down to her dressing table filled with her jewelries and small dragon sculptures that she failed to give to him for their wedding. It was a simple peace offering she wanted to give to him, Helaena, Aegon, and Daeron. To possibly remind them of their fondness as children. But she believed the gods had forbid her to do such thing and just let her…move on. They are not children anymore and things have changed. Growing up, duties, and the war. But what could possibly happen if she pushed harder to make him open the cold doors of his heart? Would things be the same or would things end up differently? Lady Tyrell could only stay silent as her handmaid prepares her to start the day. But what a cruel day it is for the only thing she could think of was Aemond.

Aemond Targaryen.

Stepping down the stairs from her room to the dining hall, she wonders what Aemond is doing by now. “Father, Mother,” she curtsied as she entered the dining hall. The table was served with delicious food she craved for many moons back in Kings Landing. Yet the presence of her brothers were nowhere to be found. She didn’t think much of it and sat on her usual chair. “Are you feeling better, dear?” Her mother asks. She could only nod, “Never better.“

Her father smiled, “It’s certainly better than Kings Landing. Blood is spilled everywhere in that place,” his tone slowly turning into disgust. “People hanged everywhere-,”

“—Lyonel,” her mother scolds, glancing down at the food.

 “Ah yes, my apologies. Let us feast!”

Her family was definitely far much warmer than Aemond’s. She wished to build a family like her own, yet with the war and Aemond’s….choices. It seemed her dreams would never come true. Her thoughts were quickly shooed away as she heard a loud and hurried knock from the door.

“My Lord,” a guard said. “My apologies for interrupting your feast, but there was a raven sent from Kings Landing. I believe it is urgent.” Handing the parchment to her father, Lady Tyrell curiously looked at the letter. Lord Tyrell scans through the letter, reading it briefly, making her and her mother wait on edge. 

“It seems that your husband requested your return.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Immediately.” 

Lady Tyrell snatched the letter away from her father, wanting to see if her father was playing tricks on her. But it seems that he has not. It was written with Aemond’s handwriting, and to summarize the letter itself, Aemond has concluded that he still wanted Lady Tyrell to be present at the court of Kings Landing for she at the end of the day was and will still be his wife. Aemond promised her father that she will be safe at all times. Aemond also requested- no, more like he commanded for her return immediately. It seemed he has sent a few of his men for extra caution for her long journey from Highgarden to Kings Landing. In the meantime, he is off to Rook’s Rest and if he does not find her present at the Red Keep when he is back, he shall burn Highgarden to the ground. 

Looking up with her shocked expression, Lord Lyonel Tyrell could only sigh. “It seems you must pack immediately, my dear.” Her mother nodded as she read the letter through again. “For the sake of Highgarden and yourself, my love.” Lady Tyrell could only stand there in silence. What does Aemond want from her? Does such threats shall be made to make her come back to him? After he betrayed her, she thought he wouldn’t mind her disappearing. Yet now…he commands her return immediately. 

“I..I do not understand,” Lady Tyrell muttered to her parents. 

“You are still his wife and it seems he still sees you as fit,” her mother answered. 

-

Made it all look painless

Man, am I the greatest

Her vision was blurry when she woke up, she could only hear a distorted conversation between the two invaders. Oh gods…she remembered. Intruders, Helaena, the twins…they wanted a son. Lady Tyrell forced herself to wake up and pushes her self from the ground with her elbow. She saw how the two intruders ran with a sack in their hands. Gods, where’s Helaena? The twins? She groaned in pain as her head was still spinning. She stood up with her legs wobbly, holding onto the cushion for support. 

What horror she saw that night. 

Blood splattered everywhere at one of the twin’s bed. 

She didn’t even dare to look what’s left. 

She hazily sprinted away, calling out for help. 

Gods where is Helaena? Where are the twins?!

Please…please…

She scurried down to the dark hallways with a sob calling out for anyone. 

And there she bumped into them.

Ser Criston and the dowager queen Alicent alongside with a few of the other fellow guards. “My dear!” Alicent shrieked, pulling her into her motherly arms. “I..Are you alright?” She could only shake her head, “Where is Helaena? Where are the twins?! I-I saw blood!” Alicent looks at her with a horrified expression. “Helaena is at my chambers, Jaehaera is with her- p-please accompany her.” Without no further explanation, she sprinted towards the dowager queen’s chambers, finding Helaena gently soothing her daughter at the corner. 

“Helaena!” She sobs out, running to them and hugging them tight. 

“T-the boy,” Helaena chokes on sobs. 

“J-Jae-Jaehaerys? Wh-where i-is h-he?”

“T-the boy is dead.”

Her heart sank. 

“W-what?”

“I don’t feel safe here…,” Helaena lets out a sob, craddling Jaehaera who knew nothing of the incident. Lady Tyrell nodded, wiping her tears away knowing that Helaena needed every support she could get. “O-okay..we shall stay in my chambers, alright?” Lady Tyrell says, helping Helaena up as she carried Jaehaera in her arms. 

The castle was filled with grief as Helaena sobbed with her in her chambers. She could only say nothing as she held her sweet sister in law in her arms. Gently reassuring her that everything will be alright. Even though they both knew that it wouldn’t. Then came her husband. Opening her chamber doors, his healthy eye spots them. Where was he? Wasn’t he in the castle? Why couldn’t they find him? Where was he when his nephew was murdered? But…if he were to catch him, she might’ve end up being a widow.

They wanted him. 

But where was he?

-

And you don't wanna know (know)

What I would've done (done), hm

Anything at all

Worse than anyone

The night was dark, the keep was cold and gloomy. She hates it here, but she finds herself following her husband’s orders to meet him in the throne room. He was pointed as prince regent, for King Aegon had almost perished at Rook’s Rest. Burnt by dragon fire. She thought that she would find Aemond grieving, yet she finds him standing in front of the iron throne with posture straight, filled with pride. His chin high up as he stares at the throne made of swords. He heard some of his men talking about the incident at Rook’s Rest for some saw Vhagar was the one who let out its fire towards the king and Sunfyre. Could Aemond’s ambition and anger towards Aegon blinded his morality? She knew how much he wanted to be king and she never completely believed that her husband would abandon all of his hopes and dreams as King. 

“Aemond,” she addressed him with no hint of affection yet. 

“Wife,” he answered, turning around to face her. “How was your journey from Highgarden?” He asked, approaching her and gently lifted and kissed the back of her hand. “It was a smooth journey, I must thank you for the men you’ve sent for my safety.” Keeping this polite and respectful. After knowing what had happened in the brothel, it was hard for her to trust Aemond or taking him literally. Whatever tricks he has on his sleeve, she must always be prepared. 

“Hm,” he hums, before taking her to step closer in front of the throne. 

“The Iron Throne,” he spoke as the thunder roared through the rain. As light shone upon the empty throne, how he longed to sit on that throne and have all the power his brother failed to hold. His slender hands traced over the edge of the throne as he hums in delight. “Balerion’s fire melted these swords. Twisted, beaten, and broken blades of the conqueror’s enemies.” Lady Tyrell has heard of the conqueror’s story hundreds of times and it’s mostly told by Aemond himself when they were children. “They knew what power meant and they’ve used it well…and I believe I’m destined for it.” 

“And Aegon?” She asked, with no hesitation. For she wanted to know what lies in Aemond’s mind about Aegon’s tragic demise. The king might not live, yet grief isn’t present in Aemond’s eye like when he heard of Jaehaerys’ death. His brother was burnt nearly to death, yet Aemond talks about power. “What about him?” Aemond asked back, stoically. She couldn’t read his face when he turned towards her. Nothing but a blank expression which sends shivers down her spine. “Is he worthy of the power you talk about?” When that question leaves her mouth, Aemond could scoff, “Him? Never.” Stepping down from the steps of the throne, he approaches her. “He couldn’t even have power over his own tongue,” Aemond said, cupping her cheek with one of his hands. 

“He is an idiot.” 

An idiot. 

And there she knew, he hated his brother. He hated the way his brother was given the throne with ease. How his brother ruined everything for him, and now Aemond’s petty enough to take everything from his brother as well. 

“What happened at Rook’s Rest?--”

“–I was never sorry. He was an idiot to challenge Meleys,” he said with a devious smile. 

Lady Tyrell could only gaze at his healthy eye, and the only thing she could read from her husband was that he was satisfied. Whatever satisfaction was filled, it was something that she herself would not want to question. “And everything falls into place. The throne will be mine.”

Taking her hands, he smiled. 

“And you’ll stand beside me.”

And everything falls into place, like what he said. Lady Tyrell realized how things could end up if Aemond were in power. She would be a fool to not satisfy him, but had she tried? She thought that everything was crumbling down, but here she is in the throne room with her husband who talks about power, almost burning the king alive, who wishes to possess the throne…with her. She doubted him for a second when she remembered his activities in the brothel, but then she thought again. It’s better to be in power and to be queen even if your husband commits infidelity. 

But would he? He said that he wants HER to stand beside him. If she stays loyal and never question him, his love would grow for her. 

Everyone in the small council has never satisfied him, no one has. 

Even claiming Vhagar wasn’t enough for him. Nothing is. But she could satisfy him. She could gain his loyalty and trust. Not only that, even as prince regent Aemond could give so much more for her house if she asks carefully. All of her thoughts of being a young girl refusing to be involved in such politics simply vanished when she looked over the iron throne. It’s pulling her in, to leave her childish dreams. To instead devote herself for her husband’s victory. 

If his plan works, he’ll stay. 

With her. 

When he realizes that she’s the only one who’ll devote her life for him, 

He’ll love her. 

He will have power, and she and her house will.

Both of them gets what they want. 

"You are a Tyrell. A rose with thorns. Don’t let anything, even a dragon snap your thorns away from you."

She glanced back to her husband who seemed to figure her out. 

A silent agreement has been made between them. 

“Then we must pray to the Gods to keep your brother to recover soon,” she said. Aemond smirks, understanding her words. “We shall,” he grins. Lady Tyrell curtsied before her husband, “I must return to my chambers now, dear Husband.” Aemond nodded, a sign of respect from him. “Sleep well, dear Wife.” 

Lady Tyrell nodded and turned to exit the throne room as her thoughts swirled around her head. Now as the wife of the prince regent, she could only support her husband on whatever step he would take. Aemond is not stupid, more like one of the most intelligent men in Westeros. Brash yet clever. SHe must know how to help him if she wants to help herself. As Lady Tyrell stepped through the gloomy halls of the keep, she found Helaena walking towards the opposite direction. “Your grace,” Lady Tyrell greeted her, curtsying before the current queen. Helaena usually greets her with a smile, yet she could only see uncertainty from the queen’s eyes. 

“Mending bonds does not have to be done with pride,” the queen said hauntingly

“Pardon?”

“Then did he tell you if it was worth it?”

Worth it?

Aegon’s demise?

Lady Tyrell could only say nothing and stare at Helaena. 

“Worth…what?”

Helaena could only pursue her lips and walk away towards the throne room, leaving Lady Tyrell alone in the cold dark hallways of the red keep. 

 -

It was quite surprising to her when Aemond pointed her to be a cupbearer for the small council for the next few following days. She remembers the faces of his council when she steps into the room, she could even feel the dowager queen’s eyes on her as she curtsied. 

“He dares to summon me?!--” Crumpling up the letter with a roar, Aemond stomps into the small council table. “--with haste!” Throwing the piece of parchment onto the table like it was nothing. Lady Tyrell could only observe, keeping her eyes on everyone’s reaction on Aemond’s outburst. “Are the Lannisters so diminished that they cannot march from the Tooth to Harrenhal without an escort?” His question sent everyone into their own silence as none dared to meet his eye.

Her husband has so much power over everyone. 

She smirks to herself.  

“There is a large dragon in the Riverlands, Your Grace. My brother’s army is strong, but it does seem-”

“–I am the prince regent,” Aemond sternly exclaims. “Not a dog to be called to heel. Tell your brother that if he does not deliver his host to Harrenhal ‘with haste’, Daemon’s dragon will become the least of his worries.”

“Your irritations are justified, Aemond but it does seem-”

“–I have a task for you as well, Ser Tyland.” 

Ignoring his mother’s opinion. 

Even his own mother has no power over him. 

Aemond circled over the table, meeting her gaze before resting her arms onto Tyland Lannister’s chair. “We will make an alliance with the Triarchy. I’ve had enough of this cursed blockade,” Aemond suggests. “My prince, you cannot mean to treat with the Free Cities. The captains of their ships are dangerous mercenaries…little more than pirates–”

“–They are a stone’s throw away across the narrow sea. Lannister, Hightower, even Tyrell ships will take months to arrive. It took my wife weeks to arrive at Kings Landing. The Triarchy will delight in the chance to terrorize the Sea Snake again. Let them weaken his blockade while our true allies make their long journey east.”

“The Triarchy may play at accepting terms but they are not to be trusted, your father knew this.”

Aemond could only roll his eye and meet her eyes once again. Lady Tyrell could only give him a nod, asking him to calm down as he walked back to his seat. Even as dowager queen, Alicent was just a pawn to the council, Lady Tyrell thought to herself. May the gods forbid her to be widowed and be sat around this council. Aemond circles the table once again as Ser Criston speaks. Aemond kept his eyes on her as he spoke, “It’s time you set out for Harrenhal, I think.” Lady Tyrell kept her eyes on her husband trying to figure out what he meant by sending Criston Cole away to war once more. “Your Grace, if Daemon prevails in the Riverlands, I no longer have the numbers to challenge him. We lost much at Rook’s Rest as you well know.”

Sitting on the table next to Criston, Aemond speaks as he pleases, “The longer we wait, the more chance he will prevail. Lannister will march from the west, and Tyrell shall follow along. Take what strength we have and force Daemon and his Riverlords to fight on two or three fronts.”

“His Grace speaks wisely.” 

Bootlicker. 

Lady Tyrell catches Aemond’s eye and gave him a look. 

Do not feed off Lord Larys’ praises. 

She kept her eyes stern at him as he pays no attention to Criston’s words

“There is no time. It’s a fortnight’s march to Harrenhal. We must strike before his army is raised.”

“And you yourself?”

“I will fly out to meet you when the time is ripe. My uncle is a challenge I welcome, if he dares face me.”

No one spoke to disagree with him. His ambition and plans weren’t to be questioned. It’s no use to question Aemond afterall. “I see we’re all agreed,” Aemond says with satisfaction standing back into his place, a signal to dismiss from today’s council meeting. Criston Cole was the first to stand, “Your Grace.” While Lady Tyrell saw how his mother’s eyes stared into Aemond’s figure. As everyone started to leave, Lady Tyrell how the dowager queen approached Ser Criston. Odd, but…not odd enough for anyone who was not paying attention. 

“Mother,” Aemond called. “A word.”

It was her cue to leave. 

Lady Tyrell placed the jug down gently before curtsying before her husband.

She sighs as she walks away from the corridor. She needed some fresh air. Walking towards the balcony near her apartment, she has a full view of Kings Landing. Surely it wasn’t as beautiful as Highgarden, but it was still a city filled with living people. 

She looked down, seeing a commotion. How some shoved each other, trying to get their hands on food…almost as if they were going to start a riot. There she knew that no one had paid the slightest attention to the people. The people who reside and makes a kingdom, a kingdom. Lady Tyrell took note how the gold cloaks stopped the people from making any further damage. Some use violence as their answer. 

Sure there was a war between kin, yet a war within the kingdom is happening as we speak. 

Bad omen. 

I shouldn't have to say it

You could've been the greatest

Another day, another small council meeting. 

Lady Tyrell walks into the small council room with Aemond as the table was almost empty. Only Lord Larys and Lord Jasper Wylde present. “The smallfolk have become restless,” Lady Tyrell blurts out as she pours wine into his cup. She could see Aemond fiddling his stone ball in his hand. “So?” He asked, still gazing at the stone. Before she could speak, Lord Larys interjects her, “There is not food enough in this city.” Lady Tyrell tilted her head as she sharply looked at Lord Larys. “Those with means have bought more than their share,” Lord Larys continued. “All the more reason Ser Tyland must break the blockade,” Aemond said. “In the meantime, the people are hungry, and their anger is rising,” Lady Tyrell points out, trying to make Aemond listen. “War with swords are evident, but a war within is also just as important,” Lady Tyrell tries to remind him. 

“Why is this anger directed at us?” He asks, curiously. “It is Rhaenyra the Pretender who ordered the Gullet closed and left them all to starve.” Of course he is not listening, why would she even think it will be different from her? Even his mother could not make him listen. “Yet we are the ones who are present at Kings Landing. They hope for us to nurture and to prevent them from starving,” Lady Tyrell points out once again. 

“That is the burden of authority. But you should not go it alone.” 

Aemond stopped fiddling with his stone ball and shifted his gaze towards Lord Larys. 

“It does occur to me that Your Grace has yet to name a Hand.”

Pathetic. 

Lady Tyrell could only roll her eyes and move to fill Lord Wylde’s cup. She saw how Larys had Aemond’s full attention after his brave suggestion. “Ser Criston of course, served your brother but you need one who may advance your cause, with shrewdness and subtlety.”

Even Lord Wylde was in disbelief. 

“Do you take me for a fool?” 

Lady Tyrell smirks to herself as her husband puts Lord Larys into place. Yet Lord Larys did not want to stand down and shook his head, “On the contrary, my prince–,” 

“I’ve little patience for the self-important, Lord Larys-,”

Lady Tyrell and Lord Wylde smiled and turned their heads in unison to Lord Larys’ direction. 

“-and even less for flatterers and lickspittles. But you are, as it happens, correct. Every king needs a hand.”

Lady Tyrell’s brows furrowed, hoping and praying for Aemond not to make a foolish decision to make Lord Larys as hand. She wishes that he could point her as hand but it is impossible. For she is a woman and she has no power over any man. She has to atleast think of a choice who’s worthy and trusted as Hand. Who’s not stupid enough or greedy enough to bring the realm down. 

“Wife,” Aemond called, interrupting her train of thought. “Who do you think is suited to be hand?” Aemond asked, although she knew he was not genuinely asking. It’s more like him trying to test her, like he always does as children. Some things never change. She looked at him trying to put a neutral expression. “I believe the realm was good and stable when your dear grandsire, Ser Otto was hand. He served well when your father was king and his loyalty was undoubted.”

Aemond looked at her as if he’s trying to make her dig more out of her opinion, but she stood by her words and smiled at him. “Hm,” Aemond hummed in agreement. But it was subtle, undetected to some. He looked back to Lord Larys, “I’ll make it your responsibility.” 

Lord Larys took a deep breath, a satisfied demeanour as he brushed his clothes. 

“My prince, it is an honor for myself–”

“–No, not to serve as Hand, you toad. To fetch him.”

It took all of her power to hold back her laugh. Even so, she couldn’t hold her smile. She looked down and saw Lord Wylde smiling with satisfaction as well. “Send word to Otto Hightower. My grandsire may be overcautious but his devotion to his family has never been in doubt. You will see it done.” 

“Your Grace,” Lord Larys said in defeat.

The grand maester then suddenly enters the room, late. 

“You’re late,” Aemond says. 

“I am happy to report that His Grace, the King has regained consciousness this morning.”

This news made her eyes wide, quickly drifting her eyes towards Aemond. 

He will not like this news. 

And he doesn’t. Not even the slightest. 

He looked back at her as he realized that his plan isn’t going as well as they thought it would be. Aemond stared at her as he tried to think, his mind racing with every single possibility. A silent conversation was exchanged between them through their eyes. Lady Tyrell blinks, knowing that there will be some difficulties for his plans, yet she shifts her gaze towards the grand maester as he speaks about Aegon’s strength, thanking the gods. For she knew Aemond wasn’t thanking the gods. He was cursing them in his mind.

“What happy news,” Aemond said with his little smile. 

What dreadful news. 

Once council meeting was over Lady Tyrell walked side by side with Aemond. She thought he was going to walk back to his chambers yet he took another turn, down towards Aegon’s chambers. 

“‘He is stronger than we thought.’ ‘He may have lived, thank the gods’,” Aemond mutters to himself. “Yet he is in pain, Aemond. Aegon is still laying in his bed as we speak, unable to move, eve unable to talk–,”

“–Yet Alive. Not Dying,” Aemond said to her as he walked in haste. 

“And what are to do in Aegon’s chambers?” She asked, stopping in front of Aegon’s apartment door. “Just paying him a visit. Let’s see how strong he really is.” Pushing the doors open, it was the first time Lady Tyrell had seen Aegon after Rook’s rest. He was…burnt. No mortal man would survive such a thing yet there he is. Moaning in pain. Alive and breathing. “I’ll see my brother. Alone,” Aemond orderdered. She stood by the doorway, hesitant to step inside as she saw the guards and maesters stepping out of the room. Maybe she wasn’t wanted to be in the room aswe-.

 “Come, don’t be shy. We must greet our king, shouldn’t we?” Aemond sarcastically said to her, reaching his hand out for her. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she hesitantly took his hand even if she was too shocked and too terrified to even speak. “Do not be afraid, it is just the king,” Aemond sarcastically reassures her as he pulls her closer beside Aegon’s bed.

When she saw Aegon opening his eyes, she could see confusion in his eyes when he spots her. But when his eyes drifted up, seeing her husband towering over him, to her surprise…Aegon tried to speak, yet to no avail he could only groan out of pain through his vocal chords and Aegon tried to move away from his brother. He was scared of Aemond. Gods, Aemond did tried to burn him. That fact sent shivers down her spine. Knowing how far her husband would go for his ambitions. Even his brother barely survived. 

“What do you remember?”

“N-nothing.”

Aemond coldly stared down at his brother before purposely leaning down, holding his brother’s hand practically squishing down onto his brother’s wounds. Hurting him. Aegon moaned and cried in pain, for Aemond is purposely hurting him. Lady Tyrell let out a shaky breath, “Ae-aemond–.”

“You challenged Meleys. It was foolish.”

“I remember nothing.”

Aegon could barely speak a whole sentence. 

She saw how Aemond leaned lower and kissed Aegon’s head, handing him a stone ball from the council. A sign from Aemond of somehow, Aegon is still alive. Meaning that he is still present at court. Aegon is still king, for now. 

“My Prince? My Lady?”

The grand maester suddenly enters the room once more. 

“You’re in the most capable hands, Your Grace,” Aemond bluntly said, covering his tracks. Lady Tyrell follows him as he starts to walk out of Aegon’s chambers. “It seems my brother has a long recovery ahead of him, grand maester. See that he is made to rest comfortably.” 

-

And man, am I the greatest 

My congratulations 

All my love and patience

All my admiration

All the times I've waited 

For you to want me naked 

I made it all look painless

Man, am I the greatest

God, I hate it

All my love and patience

Unappreciated

You said your heart was jaded

You couldn't even break it

I shouldn't have to say it

You could've been the greatest

Walking in haste towards her husband’s chambers, Lady Tyrell could only think of how foolish HE was for not listening to her regarding the smallfolk situation. Now his mother and sister were almost murdered by angry mobs yet he says nothing of it?! When she saw Helaena rushing back to the castle, her hair out of place and panting as if she were just running, she could sense that something went very wrong. 

“Helaena- Your Grace, What happened?” Lady Tyrell asked in panic, embracing her childhood friend and her queen in which Helaena does not reject. “T-they were angry,” Helaena said, out of breath.

“Who?”

“Everyone.”

The dowager queen Alicent walks not far behind. Her face smeared with the grease and stink of raw fish, and her arm. Smeared with blood. “My Queen, what has happened?” Lady Tyrell asked once again. “Angry mob. It seemed their issues with their food were unfinished and Rhaenyra’s banners were held up high, they’ve manipulated the people and…” A pregnant pause, the dowager queen looked down at her arm once again. Lady Tyrell looked down as well. She wondered if there was a significant incident for the dowager queen. Has the mob scarred her that much? “Where is Aemond?” Alicent asked. “In his chambers, my Queen.” Alicent nodded and lifted her skirt to walk. “He needs to know what has happened. And my dear, I believe his mind is clouded with his own ambition. Make him listen, for it is only you that he could trust.”

The dowager queen’s words made her end up where she is now. Knocking on her husband’s chamber doors. “Enter,” she heard him say from inside. She pushed the heavy doors, “The smallfolk are turning against us.” Aemond was sitting in front of the fireplace, reading his book in peace. “Your mother and sister were almost killed by angry mobs, Aemond,” Lady Tyrell reminded him, standing beside where he sat. “And so I’ve heard.”

“How are you this calm, Aemond? Further destruction can be made if we do not solve this matter!”

“Mind your tone, wife,” he stoically warned, closing his book.

“My tone? I told you of this matter yet you dismissed me.”

Aemond stood up and put his book back onto his shelf.

“Aemond, are you listening to me?”

“Shall I remind you of your position, wife?” 

Now he’s threatening her. Ofcourse, she’s nothing but a lady in court. Not a man in power. 

“I am a grown woman, not a child, Aemond. I know of my position. But it does not mean I am an idiot,” she reminded him back. Aemond stares at her coldly. “What? You want to hang me now? You can hang me as you like, but I know that you are aware that I’m right.” 

“You have always been a stubborn little thing aren’t you?”

“That adds to my charm. Aemond, you need the people as much as you dragons to win this war. A kingdom is not a kingdom without it’s people. You said that it was Rhaenyra who ordered the Gullet closed and left the people to starve- yet who are they chanting for when a handful of food was given to them for free?”

Feeling his judgement falling upon her, Lady Tyrell does not hesitate to continue, “The people do not care who was the one that started the hunger. Yet they will remember who were the ones who could save them from their misery. If Rhaenyra was the one who left them to starve, then be their saviour! Not turning your back against them. What is to be king if the people doesn’t acknowledge you as one? Then you’re simply…a fraud.”

Aemond’s eyes turned cold and shoved her down to the bed. “You think you’re better than me, Tyrell? Just because I summoned you back here does not mean you can do as you please,” he hissed. If she were in this position as the old version of herself, she would cower in fear. But she knows how he is. His temper, she will let it all happen. To her, now it’s just a lover’s quarrel. “Aye? Then what would you do? Kill me? Destroying one of your greatest assets for the war? What would they say? You fucked a whore and killed your own wife.” Aemond presses her down deeper to the mattress. 

“Watch your tongue.”

“Did she satisfy you?” Lady Tyrell asked. 

She needed to know. 

“Was that the reason why you refused to bed me all these months?” 

Aemond grunts again, but his body refuses to push her any further. Refusing to hurt her. For he has hurt her enough. “Do not assume such things,” Aemond said, his voice slightly cracking. “How can I not?” She said back, her voice not faltering. “Am I that undesirable?—“

“—No—,”

“—Have you doubted my loyalty?—“

“—No!—“

“—Then what am I to you, Aemond?”

“You are my wife.”

His healthy eye staring right into her soul.

“I do not wish to bed you like how I bed that whore.” His fingers grazed over her arm. “Undesirable? I’ve desired you more than anything. When you stepped out of your carriage stepping foot in Kings Landing for the very first time, I never wanted anyone more than anything. I desired you when I saw you in the sept at our union, and when I refused the bedding ceremony that night I didn’t want anyone to see your body. It should only be touched and seen by me. Only me.” 

Her gaze softened hearing those words coming out from his mouth. Her mind tried to tell her that it was a trick, but oh she could only melt in his arms. Finding his pupil dilating, she saw how he only has genuine affection towards her and a sense of guilt that he wishes to take away from her. He needed her as much as she needed him. It took her long enough to do it, but she knew it had to be done. She pulls him closer and lets her lips gently meet his. It took Aemond with surprise so she let it stay still, waiting for him to take the lead. 

She felt his lips move, slowly accepting her mouth on his. Their lips meet with a delicate urgency, brushing softly at first, testing the waters of desire. As intensity builds, kisses deepen, becoming more fervent, tongues intertwining in a dance of exploration and connection.

Hands explore with a gentle insistence, fingers threading through hair, tracing the line of jaw, and caressing the curve of back and neck. The warmth of skin against skin sends shivers of pleasure through their bodies, heightening every sensation.

Breaths mingle in a rhythm that mirrors their entwined hearts, each inhale drawing them closer, each exhale a whispered affirmation of mutual longing. Time seems to slow, the outside world fading away as they become lost in the intoxicating blend of touch, taste, and scent. He pulls away, “I imagined them as you. It does not justify my infidelity but I could not stop myself. I wished to perform such act with you but for the gods sake…I could not bare to hurt you.” Desperately nuzzling his nose to his cheek as her arms link around his neck. 

“You would not hurt me,” his wife gently whispers. 

She gently held him and flipped him over. 

“But I have..thousands of times,” he mutters while his calloused hands traced over her waist down to her hips. Lady Tyrell looked down to him as his eye was filled with lust and desire. Untangling her dress, she eventually lets it drop down to her waist, unveiling herself to him. “Gevie,” Aemond mutters, kneading her breast feeling how his hand perfectly cups hers. She was just beautiful as he imagined her to be. 

“And here I thought you had abandoned me.” Her hands trailed over his breeches, finding access to his sex. Aemond gasped, feeling her gentle smooth hands wrapping around his cock. It felt better than any touch of those whores. None have hands as smooth and gentle as hers. “I would never,” he grunted desperately for her touch. Lady Tyrell looked down, removing her undergarments briefly, lining her sex to his. 

“My King,” she sighs in pleasure sinking into his cock. 

She made Aemond’s healthy eye roll back feeling her squeezing him like hell. “Gods you’re tight,” he grunted once more, thrusting up needing friction. She gasped, taking all of him. “Say it again,” he ordered, letting her adjust to him. “M-my King.” Her delicate hands resting on his clothed chest, she steadied herself as she grinds on him. The smell of sex was evident in the room. Aemond looked up seeing his then-innocent wife riding him like a dragon he is. Moaning, panting, praising him. 

“A dragon..is useless without its rider,” she pants. Aemond gripped her hips as he helped her to reach their pleasures. “Then ride me, ābrazȳrys. Ride your dragon king.” And she obeyed, riding him as tears of pleasure rolled down her cheeks. “Ae-aemond- fuck.” The prince smirked hearing his wife curse, “My wife talks like a pirate now,” he teased, taking her hand into his lips, kissing it gently. 

“I-I..I..I’m close.”

Urgently thrusting up into her, Aemond helps her chase her pleasure. Hearing her sweet sounds make him find his own pleasure as well. The only woman who could make him come this fast. His blurry vision saw how her body was full of sweat and how the dim light of the fireplace enhanced her features. “Gevie,” he repeated. Exhausted, she slowly dropped her body to him. Letting his arms wrapped around her smaller body. Her husband inhaled her scent as he buries his face deep into her hair. 

“Aemond?” She called out. 

“Hm?”

Slowly pulling away, she looked into his healthy eye before she stared at his eyepatch. 

“May I?” Asking for permission. 

She thought that he might refuse, yet he was the one who unveils himself to her.

He took off his eyepatch before her. 

Letting her see his scar. 

A thick tension filled the air as Aemond was starting to regret this decision of showing his wife his vulnerability. Lady Tyrell quickly spots his insecurity and wants nothing but him to open up to her. So she kissed his scar, just beneath his sapphire eye. Nuzzling her nose to his cheek, she whispered, “Gevie.” She could hear a quiet sigh coming out from her husband and how his arms wrapped around her just a tad tighter than before. Aemond needed her more than ever, and Alicent was right. She was the only one he could trust. 

“The smallfolk, Aemond.”

“What about them?”

“It is difficult to change their mind for now,” she said as she slightly pulls back, looking into his gaze, “But we can always make a change by their ways.” 

Aemond raised his eyebrow curiously, “What ways?”

“Rumours. Gossip,” she said.

At first he was not convinced.

“I am a lady at court, I know how rumours work. They are not a line that you can easily break. Rumours spiral and it shall grow bigger and bigger. Unless someone stops them with another,” she told him carefully. “Rhaenyra might have won this chapter, but we are the ones closest to the people. We must turn the rumours back around.” Aemond lets out a hum in agreement. “It seems I do need you. For I am a dragon and I fly and burn everything to the ground at battlegrounds. Yet you are a rose. Beautiful and charming, drawing people to your attention while your thorns sharp and ready to fight the war with your ways,” he praised her, caressing her hair. 

“We can still win the hearts of the people. If we do this right,” she said.

“What of rumours about me? About me not planting a seed on your womb?” Aemond asked, changing the subject as he placed his other hand to her stomach. “I regret for not putting a babe in you sooner. Maybe our act was enough to let my seed grow in you, wife.” 

Lady Tyrell chuckled at his words. Although she is quite excited to have a babe with him. Aemond Targaryen’s heir. She dressed up as Aemond pulled his breeches back up as well. “But I am aware that this was planned by the gods. If I did put a babe in you earlier, maybe the realm would be mourning for you. Not for Jaehaerys,” she heard him say as he sat up. “I am an honest man, my dear. And I am honest of how I could not live without you breathing in the same air as me.” His arms sneaked around her waist, pressing his chest onto her back. 

“My rose, my wife.”

He placed a gentle kiss on her neck. 

Before letting go, putting his eyepatch and lighting a candle. 

“Aemond, what are you doing?” She asked curiously as her fingers still grazed upon the spot where he kissed her. “The smallfolk won’t side with us overnight. We have to act early, don’t we?” He said with a devilish smile, opening his chamber doors revealing the dark empty hallway of the keep. She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “Aemond, the moon is high.” Aemond nodded, “Which means it’s the best time to act.”

Aemond grabbed his cloak and walked out from the room.

“Come along now, wife.”

Oh, Aemond.

Lady Tyrell lifted her skirt and catches onto her husband. 

“Aemond, wait!”

Even as adults, Aemond couldn’t hold his smile whenever his wife caught up onto him. 

Walking in haste, side by side. Like how it has always been, and forever. 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! So sorry for the delay, cuz I was sick and I saw episode 6 and I HAD to include those scenes to make this fic work. Honestly, I didn’t think that I would make Lady Tyrell have this character development but with the current situation of hotd, I just wanted an ambitious Tyrell lady in the story so I just had to🧸. Plus I got carried away writing this fic but I had so much fun! >,< I’m actually quite interested to make headcannons between Aemond and Lady Tyrell so if you guys are curious about their story do not hesitate to ask or like hmu abt it in my inbox (it’s open!). But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this (long) sequel and I am excited to write more in the future! I am open to requests and even prompts!𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

Love, Aliceִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

P.S, Likes, reblogs, and comments are kindly appreciatedᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—Taglist: @uhnanix @starwarsdinosaur @ccallistata @cloudroomblog @callsigncrushx @immyowndefender @barnes70stark @mikey1310 @llynx7 @ladytargg @anukulee (lmk if you wanna be in my taglist for future stuffs<3). 

When Pride Married Prejudice -- completed series masterlist

completed series summary: she is the (only) trueborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Lord Laenor Velaryon. after her younger brother, Lucerys, slices out the eye of their uncle, Aemond Targaryen, her hand is offered as payment to keep the peace. though unexpected, she finds herself in a loving marriage, until devastating news forces her to make an impossible choice.

pairing: Aemond Taargaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

total series word count: 97,184

universal warnings: book and show spoilers, cursing, smut, angst.

🔞 none of the following content is appropriate for minors 🔞 ❌ all taglists are discontinued 🚫 i do not give permission for any of my work to be posted, copied, translated, or uploaded to any other platforms 🚫

note: alternate endings because i'm restless and can't choose. also the idea of a Velaryon!reader isn't my own, so, let's play nice and show a shred of respect for different author's varying ideas, perspectives, and details - thank yew ✨

in chronological order: When Pride Married Prejudice

When Pride Married Prejudice [ part two ]

It Feels Like (the Very) First Time

It Feels Like (the Very) First Time [ part two ]

Petitions

Distraction

The Inky Green Council

Bearer of Bad News

alternate ending one: Kin Slayer • [ part two ]

alternate ending two: Sweetest Devotion • [ part two ]

guide to final alternate endings: Kin Slayer -- is for those in the slutty angst club 'cause i'm comin' for your feelings. reader is Team Black. Sweetest Devotion -- is for those who crave closure and comfort. reader is Team Green.

in order of publication: Distraction Bearer of Bad News Petitions The Inky Green Council When Pride Married Prejudice WPMP [ part two ] It Feels Like (the Very) First Time It Feels Like (the Very) First Time [ part two ] alternate endings: Kin Slayer • [ part two ] // Sweetest Devotion • [ part two ]

WPMP Universe drabbles:

all with be marked if they are or are not considered part of the series timeline. please pay attention to those notes.

organized in order of submission brought to you by my beautiful readers who sent requests:

• ( requested ) -- ANGST and small fluff i wonder who aemond would choose if he was given the choice of saving his wife or the baby during childbirth... would he choose the same as his father?

• ( requested ) -- ANGST and FLUFF i LOVE how you worded Aemond choosing sweet girl over the baby because in all truth, i imagine him justifying his choice as "what use would i be to a child without the tender care of a mother and an empty shell of a father?" because he knows IF he had chosen otherwise, he would be following in Viserys' footsteps and he wants to be better. so i 100% agree he would choose them over the child and ofc he's read of the aftermath of losing a child for the mother, so he's there to coax sweet girl but at the same time i feel like he'd mourn with her because that was a life they created together.

• ( requested ) -- ANGST how would he react if ever in a very unlucky world, he would lose both his child and wife at childbirth (not like viserys where he was given a choice) but bec it just didnt end well esp when pregnancies doesnt really guarantee a safe delivery all the time.

• ( requested ) -- ANGST and FLUFF 3 Times He Didn't, 1 Time He Did can you please write something where the reader (the same reader in your series) is spending memorable time with her grand sire and he asks her “will I be remembered as a good king”. 🥺

Wattpad link

to all my beloved readers -

thank you for coming on this journey with me. what a ride it's been writing this. now that the series is complete, i admit i'm a bit sad, but there will be smaller installments still to come. i just wanted to take the time to thank you all for bearing with me through this, and share my gratitude and love for you all. happy reading!

all my love, 🖤🍒 Cherry

cute and cosy sketches of my actual wife that I'm legally married to

lucemond fanfic in progress (sorta)

TW: Gorey details, Major Character Death

"Are you tormented by the memories?" Lucerys whispers from the end of the bed, "Do you remember all the ways I've harmed you but still realize it was not worth it?"

"Stop talking! I hate you!" Aemond yells out. 'He's not real, he's not there, he deserved it, you wanted to do it.' He tries to tell himself. To put himself in control.

"Hated. You hated me. You despised me really. I was the object of your ire. I was everything that you hated. But it's all gone now. I'm gone, I'm dead. You killed me." Lucerys states, moving closer to Aemond.

Aemond finally looks at him, looks at what he has done. Lucerys doesn't look like a ghost, he looks real. And dead. Aemond can hear the water drip onto the floor where Lucerys is standing. Or is that blood?

There is no way of knowing, nothing is hitting the ground even though Aemond is following the drops and hearing them hit, it disappears right before his eyes.

"I am dead, Uncle. You should happier than ever. You got my eye, the eye you've always wanted, the eye you were owed." Lucerys says as he gets right in front of Aemond, standing directly next to where he is sitting in bed.

Aemond can see him more clearly now, see his face. He is missing an eye but he also seems to be missing almost half of his face. Where the right side of his face should be is shredded up flesh and a gaping whole where his eye and brow bone should be. Blood is pouring down his face onto his clothes and the floor. Aemond just stares at the hole and listens to the dripping of blood on the floor.

The dripping gets louder and louder by the second.

"I am sorry that I wasn't able to give it you. I wasn't in the position to give it you. I'm sure you can check to see if Vhagar has it, maybe it got stuck between her teeth." Lucerys says, smiling at the end. Aemond would be upset if he wasn't distracted with the dead boy standing in front of him.

"What do you want Lucerys?" Aemond says, turning his gaze to the rest of Lucerys' body, hoping to forget about the gaping hole staring at him. He does not find that comfort. He is faced with Lucerys' bloody stump of an arm. His forearm is gone, ripped to shreds and the blood pouring onto the ground.

Aemond stares at the blood as it hits the ground and disappears.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing Uncle. Did you miss me? I've seem to be the only thing on your mind as of late, so I thought why not and surprise you. Give your mind a little break on how I might be doing." Lucerys states, smirking down at Aemond.

"I look a lot worse than you could've imagined right? What were you thinking? That I was ripped to shreds, like Arrax?" Lucerys asks. Aemond looks at him, staring at the harm he has caused him.

Suddenly becoming enraged, Lucerys spits out "Or were you hoping that I didn't suffer? That I fell to my death, unscathed, after your war dragon chewed me up and spit me out? Is that what you were hoping for uncle? Is that what you were praying to your false gods for?"

I love alicent because of this! she knew what she wanted was not okay, that she was letting her anger and her child's pain control her. she knew that lucerys was just a child and didn't deserve to lose an eye, just like aemond did not deserve to lose an eye. I hate viserys, he should've brought justice to aemond in some way and not made alicent feel crazy for being angry about her child being hurt

alicent regretted her actions after she charged at luke, she apologized to viserys after he ignored her pleas to show some concern after aemond lost an eye, and she rejected larys’ offer to take an eye from luke….honestly she’s a saint because that couldn’t be me.

why do I keep reading 'paint me in your colors'? all it does is bring me pain. every time I read it, I just break out into tears because everyone is depressed and the writer is so good at portraying that. anyways new chapter is out!

aemond targaryen x Velaryon!reader: tells them what happened to lucerys

"you killed my brother" y/n says, their voice trembling

"it was an accident, I swear it. I did not mean to-" aemond tries to say but gets cut off by y/n.

"you did not mean to? you ran after him with your WAR DRAGON and you believe you have the right to say that you did not mean to?" y/n screams at him, "aemond you have started a war that was not yours to start, you have made yourself a kinslayer and something that I thought impossible, you have made me despise you." y/n states.

if not familiar with y/n, it could be believed that they have completely shut off their emotions but aemond knows better, knows them better. he can see the pain in their eyes, the tears that they are holding back and they can see the tension in their body, as if holding back all the anger and grief. he can see that they are not trying to explode.

"y/n please, i was trying to stop her. she would not listen to me. lucerys' dragon struck first. he angered her." aemond begins to think of more excuses, tries to make her believe that he did not hold all the blame.

"enough!" y/n yells. "you are the only one to blame for this. you are the one that went after him, you are the one that was fueling vhagar's bloodlust. you went after a child believing that you could play hide and seek with a dragon, one that has seen more war and death we could ever believe." y/n stops and takes a breath. they look around as one tear rolls down their face as they collect themselves. y/n makes eye contact with aemond once more.

"aemond targaryen the kinslayer, i hope the gods punish you for what you have done, but I know that won't be enough for the pain you have caused. I want you to know that if I am given the chance, I will kill you myself. get out."

this type of scenario would not leave my head. this is one my first times writing fanfiction, and i wrote it in like 20 mins so please let me know what you guys think!

Alicent: I love all King Viserys' children equally.

Also, Alicent:

Aemond vs Legolas

Why does he look like a proud dad standing there?

Excuse me but who gave him permission to be soo sexy

beautiful and sexy

Aemond Targaryen | Ewan Mitchell

House of the Dragon Season 2

LORD SAVE MEEEE

oh my god

🛐🛐🛐🛐

Imagine them staring at you like that:

The innocence is gone

this melts my hearts

Thank you Leo Ashton for posting this

totally in love with male characters who have long white hair