#alys rivers x reader

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Entangled. // Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader x Alys Rivers

MDNI ; reader discretion is advised.

Summary: after so much loss, you had been betrothed and later married off to aemond as a means to put an end to the war, he takes you to harrenhal where you meet his mistress, Alys rivers. What can possibly unfold?

WARNINGS: dubcon (I'm not sure but I'm adding it just to be safe), unprotected sex, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, tiddy sucking, m/f/f, cunnilingus, threesome, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, polygamy(?), witch stuff, aemond x alys, alys x reader, aemond x reader, canon typical incest, war, loss, slight angst, slight fluff, contains spoilers for fire and blood, canon divergence, reader doesn't have a description. + not proofread.

A/N: here's a fic as promised before I leave for 2 weeks due to mid terms! hope you all enjoy it! // divider credit: @cafekitsune

WC: 2.8k

The war was devastating to you and your siblings, having lost both luke and jace, you were terrified for your life as well as your younger sibling's.

You watched as your family fell apart, slowly but surely, all of them ended up dying, leaving you and your younger siblings alone and estranged. The moment you heard your stepfather, daemon's, death; you knew that it was over, there was no more winning anymore.

Especially with Aemond surviving the fight.

Loss, Grief, and Sorrow were emotions you became familiar with.

You had to anyway.

Because with war, there would always be the plague of such pessimistic emotions that would follow, with every news it will only grow stronger.

Alas, the greens ended up winning the war.

And Alicent, as a way to make sure none of this repeats again, has quickly betrothed you to her second son, prince regent, Aemond, while your younger brother Aegon III was betrothed to Jaehaera.

It's not as if you and Aemond were on bad terms before the war, it would rather be described as more… tolerable. Aemond didn't hold any feelings towards you, neither negative nor positive.

Is what you had taught.

Until you found out that halfway through your wedding procession that it was Aemond who proposed the idea of marrying you to him, Alicent had only planned for Aegon and Jaehaera's betrothal.

You exchanged your vows half heartedly, and as soon as the wedding had ended, Aemond wasted no time and immediately whisked you away with him to Harrenhal, which he inherited and resides there to rule rather than at the keep.

You had not spoken a word to him ever since the departure. You did not want to.

Harrenhal looked and felt ominous, everything about it screamed danger, whether it was the rumours about the curses that surrounded this place, or just the overall aesthetics and appearance of it, it scared you.

You knew that it was destroyed and basically melted during Aegon's conquest, but it seemed Aemond had tried his very best to rebuild the place, yet the result was more horrific than it was ‘fixed’ you would've preferred if it had been just left untouched.

Aemond, wanting to go all the way with the formalities, he gave you a tour of the castle, before stopping in front of his chamber, a private residence where only he is allowed, “This is our chamber.” He said.

Ah yes, it also belongs to you now, doesn't it? You are his wife after all. You nodded, not wishing to speak to him, the guard opened the door.

As you both entered inside, there was already a woman who seemed to be waiting, as if she knew you both would be coming. “Aemond, you have returned.” She stood up from her seat, putting the book down, addressing him informally.

Not your grace, my prince or any formal title, just Aemond.

You took note of her appearance, hair as dark as the night sky, eyes that resembled emeralds, donning a valyrian steel necklace.

Alys rivers.

Aemond's mistress.

“Alys, I have not permitted you to enter my chambers.” Aemond speaks calmly, not realising the awkward situation that has occured with you in the room. “Oh come on Aemond, do not be so cold, Is she your wife?” She turned the conversation to you and you wished the ground would swallow you whole because of the tension in the air.

“Yes, she is.” Aemond confirms and she hums, “And you must be his mistress.” You speak, breaking the silence you maintained all throughout, acknowledging her presence, catching her by surprise. “Oh? You're know of me?” she asks and you nod, “How can i not? When there's words of your presence infiltrating every corner of the world, after all, Who could the prince have taken as a mistress after his betrothal to Floris broke?” You question, eyebrows raised, you see Aemond visibly tense, likely feeling the tension now.

“What have you heard of me, Princess?” Alys asks, tilting her head to the side, “That you are very beautiful, eyes that shone brightly like the stars amidst the night sky; that is your hair.” You tell her truthfully making her lips break into a smirk, “And what else?” She doesn't break eye contact, it's your turn to smirk now, “That you must wield powers, which you had used to bewitch the prince.” You watch as her smirk turns into a smile, “What exactly are you implying princess?”

“That you are a witch.” You put implication on the word ‘witch’, Aemond coughs awkwardly and her chuckle breaks the silence and you giggle as well, “And what do you think of it?”

Why was she so curious to know of your opinion?

“Mhm, I cannot speak for everyone, but I do not believe it, I can say that for sure.” You tell her your opinion, “And why is that so?” she asks, “Because- it's just my opinion.” you shrug and she smiles.

“Alys, you can leave now.” Aemond interferes, kicking her out and you give her a smile which she returns as she leaves the chambers. “I apologise.” Aemond expresses his apology. You simply ignore him, not wishing to speak to him.

He sighs in annoyance, “For fucks sake why can't you just talk to me? You were speaking a lot to Alys when she was here.” He breaks his formality and that's when you turn to him, “There you are uncle, I was getting bored with the formality you have shown me, pretending as though nothing happened, that your family did not just kill my family.” You say in anger.

“It's over now.” He says and you scoff, “Over?! What do you mean over?! What about the grief that I carry? The loss of my brothers, my mother, my father??! It's destroying me from the inside out!” You shout and Aemond stands still, looking down as if in regret.

“You are not the only one that has experienced grief.” He murmurs and before you can say anything, he lifts his head up and looks at you in the eyes and you immediately stop yourself from speaking.

That's right.

You aren't the only one that has experienced grief, you suddenly remember helaena and jaehaerys. You bite your lip in thought.

“I'm aware that you have experienced more loss than me, more grief than me, some directly caused by me, but that doesn't mean I'm not a victim of it either.” He sighs, “Either way, there is no use of dwelling over the past, we need to put our differences aside and make this work, you saw what happened. War will only make it worse.”

You hated that he was right.

You watch as he comes closer and you don't move away, he wraps his arms around you, embracing you, it feels so comforting, when was the last time you were held like this? You hug him back, burying your face into him, breathing his scent.

“I, I know this will not solve anything that has happened, or bring your brother back to life, but I apologize, I hope we can put our past behind us.” You hear him speak as you zone out in the comfort of his arms, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Ever since then, you and Aemond had grown closer a bit, trying your best to make everything work, he had bedded you during the days that followed, consummating your marriage. But he still laid with Alys.

You did not mind, because though you had gotten closer, you didn't always want to be around him and Alys helped you greatly with that, keeping him away from you.

You were sitting in the library of Harrenhal, reading on the chaise until you heard the door open and watched as Alys entered the room. “Greetings Princess.” She bows slightly and you raise your eyebrow, “You can drop the formalities Alys, you referring to me formally while being informal with my husband will make it seem like I'm that one mean wife who has forced herself between two star crossed lovers.” You close the book you were reading and she chuckles, “As you wish, Y/N.” she refers to you by your name and you smile. “What is that you require from me?” You ask and she shrugs, “I simply wanted to see you, see how you are doing.” She says and you nod, “Hmm.” you hum.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are delectable?” She suddenly says and you look at her, “I've gotten compliments, yes, but not to that extent.” you tell her honestly and she hums. “Well, you are extremely pretty. Almost makes me want to-” She interrupts herself with a cough and you raise an eyebrow, “Make you want to?” You question, and she looks at you, “Have you for myself.” She says directly to your face, catching you off guard. “Oh?” You smirk, “You wish to steal me from the prince? He might see it as an offence.” you tease and she chuckles, “Maybe.” She smirks and suddenly it feels as if the entire power dynamic has changed. You clear your throat in an attempt to deviate from this conversation and try to start another one.

Encounters like that had become more frequent with Alys, she was being flirty indirectly, she had even done it in front of Aemond to which he didn't bat an eye to.

You had tried your best to remain composed, only to find yourself in a situation you didn't quite expect.

Your legs were held spread open by Alys as she laid behind you, your back against her chest, you could feel the softness of her breasts against your back as she kissed your neck.

You gaze falls on Aemond who was currently undressing, he was taking off his breech which revealed his hard cock, to which he gave a few pumps to ease the tension, “Come on Aemond, don't take way too much time.” Alys coos and Aemond obeys, lining his cock to your cunt, sliding it down your fold, gathering the wetness on his cock and later placing his tip against your entrance.

He then slowly pushes inside, causing you to gasp and grip the sheets below, Alys’ hands travel up to your torso and she grabs your breasts, playing with the nipple as she continues placing kisses on your neck.

Aemond fully sheaths himself inside you, grunting when he feels you clench around him, “Fuck, I love this cunt so much.” He groans before drawing his hips back and pushing forward, thrusting. “I know right? Been wanting to taste it for a while, let me at it when you're done.” Alys replies to him, she turns your face sideways and presses her lips against yours, kissing you.

Aemond's tip prods at the sweet spot located inside of you, causing you let out a loud moan into Alys’ mouth to which she chuckles, one of her hands leave your breasts and go to your cunt, she rubs small circles on your clit, elevating the pleasure you're feeling, and before you know it, your orgasm hits you as you come all over his cock, clenching him, causing him to moan and eventually finish inside you. He pulls out slowly, his cock beginning to soften.

Alys is swift in her movements, moving from behind you to facing you from the front, she pushes you further up the bed before lowering herself down to the level where she is face to face with your cunt, she hums in delight as she watches Aemond's spend ooze out from you.

Her tongue collects some of it before she licks a long stripe up to your clit, before engulfing it completely with her moan, which causes you to throw your head back in place. Your hand flies to her head to grip it, your fingers locked in her tresses. You whimper as she pulls on your clit with her mouth, nibbling it. She travels a little down towards your hole and pushes her tongue inside, fucking you with it, her nose rubbing against your clit.

You watch as as Aemond begins to harden again, he positions himself behind Alys, grabbing her by her hips and lifting her lower body up, You feel Alys moan against your cunt as she feels him enter her, her body rocks back and forth as he thrusts into her, she uses your thighs as a leverage to keep her steady, annoyed by the fact that he's using so much force to the point her face keeps leaving your cunt, her tongue swirls around your clit which causes the band in your stomach to snap, you gasp out her name and she moans into your cunt as she reaches her orgasm, teeth clamping down onto your clit but not too harshly yet enough to cause slight sting. Aemond pulls out before he can finish inside her, finishing on her back.

Why did he not finish inside her?

The thought flies over your head as they swiftly change positions again.

Another round? You're already too overstimulated from the previous pleasure.

Aemond lays down and pulls you on top of him, you lay your hands flat against his chest and balance yourself, he lifts your hips up and lines his cock against your entrance again before sinking you down on it, letting out a groan. “Seven hells, I just can't get used to this cunt no matter how many times I take it.” He grunts, “Sit on my face, Alys.” He looks at her and she smiles, immediately obeying, she faces you and you watch as her cunt hovers right above his mouth before she descends to it, his tongue immediately capturing her sex.

You slowly start moving your hips, causing Aemond to groan against her cunt, one of his hands remains firmly on your hip as the other travels to Alys's thigh, gripping it for leverage.

‘This is what heaven probably feels like’ Aemond thinks.

You bounce up and down his cock, Alys leans towards you to capture your lips into a kiss and you let her, your hands roam all over her body before reaching her breasts, you give a slight squeeze to them, making her breath hitch. She kisses downwards your neck, to your breast before taking your nipple in her mouth.

She suckles on your tit while maintaining eye contact with you, and you can already feel the third orgasm of night beginning to build up. She moans with your breast in her mouth causing pleasant vibrations to shoot up your skin, it seems as if she had reached her peak.

She quickly get off of Aemond's face and he sits up, fully focusing his attention onto you now, pressing a kiss to your lips, you can feel the taste of Alys’ essence on his tongue as he shoves in your mouth, deepening the kiss, he ruts into you at a speedy pace and pulls away from the kiss, to watch your tits bounce up and down as he thrusts upwards.

His mouth descends onto one of them, tongue playing with the bud, flicking it up and down, “I can't wait to see these swell with milk when my seed takes, I bet you'd taste so fucking good.” He growls, biting your nipple making you wince.

And it isn't long before you reach your third orgasm of the night, moaning his name loudly as you finish on his cock, and he once again finishes inside your cunt, filling you up with his seed, painting your walls.

You fall slumped onto his shoulder, exhausted from all the intimate acts you have committed with Aemond and his lover, and practically your lover too now.

He pulls you off him and lays you down next to him gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead, you watch as Alys lays on your stomach, and she turns to press a kiss to your lower abdomen, right where your womb was located and whispers some words which you couldn't make sense of.

She then climbs up further and lays beside you, hugging you close to her chest and Aemond pulls you both into an embrace.

“She'll soon give birth to children that will look like the three of us.” Alys says to Aemond and he hums, “How?” You question, furrowing your eyebrows and she chuckles, “Maybe that being a witch rumour wasn't false after all.” She says and you gasp, “Though, I never really bewitched the prince, I never had to.” She chuckles and leans over to kiss Aemond before falling back to place.

You thought Alys was just bluffing and joking at that time, until you gave birth to twins months later.

Who ended up having features of all three of you, your son, having one emerald green eye and one purple eye with your hair colour, and your daughter with platinum blonde hair with your eye colour and facial features of alys.

You wondered how she'd done it.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

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[huramuna]

beware the sapphire peak - chapter 1.

aemond targaryen x wife reader x alys rivers a period piece, set in 1902.

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wordcount: 2.6k

you're a young, american lady who is an aspiring author. you are wooed by a mysterious and charming savant from england. swept off your feet, you're whisked away to his family's ancient estate, Dragonstone Hall. but with all stories, secrets are hiding around every corner, and your suitor is no different. a crimson peak inspired mini series. (this will likely be about 3 parts)

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: smut, angst, gaslighting, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, alys in her girlboss gatekeep gaslight era, no use of y/n, afab reader, pre-established alysmond, this isn't going where you think it is (it might be), infidelity-ish, polyamory

to death we dance - salem's heir • the flower duet - sabine devieilhe & marianne crebassa

“You were nearly late, miss,” one of the butlers murmured in your ear. “The music’s just started.” 

“There is a quote about being fashionably late, isn’t there?” you mused, taking his gloved hand as he helped you up the steps. 

It was a banquet for your father’s business, a celebration of having struck gold (oil) and turning a huge profit. Or, in your words, an excuse for the high and mighty to get plastered and dance the night away. Your fist clenched upon the train of your dress– a lovely evening gown in eggshell white, with hand embroidered lilacs and lavender petals on it, spindling up your bodice like a trellis. Your usually somewhat unruly hair was tamed into a braided and pinned up-do, with an expensive broach poked into the bun of hair in the shape of a falling wisteria branch. 

Your father was the first to greet you, peeling away from the gaggle of portly oil barons. He kissed your cheek. “You look lovely tonight, my dear. A vision in purple, I must say.”

You smiled back at him. “Yes, well, you all but wringed my arm to get me to attend– and you shall hold up your end of the bargain… right?” you hummed softly, batting your eyelashes. 

He let out a small sigh, nodding. “I will send your manuscript to the publisher– the editor in chief is here tonight, if you’d care to mingle. Amongst… many other eligible bachelors, I might add.” 

Your father had spent the better part of the last three years gently trying to pair you up with a suitor for marriage. He was a patient man, as he had droned on about so many times before, but his patience was waning. You were twenty-one years old, and apparently, that was a ghastly sight– to be twenty-one and unmarried with no promising prospects. 

Of course, you couldn’t care less. You were more focused on finishing your manuscript in that time– you had a knack for writing and reveled in works of fiction that tended to lean to the darker sides of things. It had finally reached a point you were somewhat happy with, and had convinced your father to chat up his well connected colleagues so you may be able to send the first draft to a publisher.

The price for that, however, was to entertain suitors. At a gala. Dressed and primped like a Thanksgiving turkey. It was all so dreary to you– the ladies stared at you and whispered, citing you as the dreary one. 

Breaking away from your father with a tiny smile, you began to mingle– as well as you could, anyhow. You were awkward and a bit sheltered and it showed. However, once you said who your father was, dollar signs would flash in the eyes of the men you were speaking with, and they would push forward in the conversation. You weren’t ugly by any means and could become a good wife to some young entrepreneur– but you didn’t want that.

You were about fed up with it all three hours later, your nails clinking against the glass of champagne you were nursing for the better part of thirty minutes. Your look of slight annoyance managed to stave off any other wanton suitors– until another man approached you. You had exchanged some glances with him during the night, but you didn’t recognize him. He was tall, exceedingly taller than any of the other men there. His blonde hair, so pale it was almost white in hue, was cinched at the nape of his neck in a clean ponytail, falling between his shoulder blades. He was in a custom-fitted three piece black and green suit– you could tell from how perfectly it was hugging him, in all the right places.

A familiar heat came to your cheeks as you watched him saunter over to you with an intent in his pale blue eyes– eye? One of them, you noted as he came closer, was slightly off-color from the other and moved a bit slower. Likely fake, you thought. The light casted over the planes of his face, chiseled as it was, illuminating the slightly raised, puckered skin near the fake eye in a distinctual scar. He looked just like the perfect inspiration for a protagonist in one of your novels– or mayhaps an antagonist. He seemed to skim the line between the two in appearance alone.

Curious.

“My lady,” he greeted as he finally broke the air of silence between you, his arms placed behind him in a very calculated manner. “Are you enjoying yourself this evening?” he asked then, a brow perked. His accent wasn’t American– that you knew for certain– likely something European. 

“As much as I can, sir,” you responded coolly, despite being caught slightly off guard by his sudden and overwhelming presence– a dark cloud in a perfectly tailored suit. “I hope that the…” you cleared your throat, trying to sound a little more confident than you likely were. “The… event is to your liking.” you mustered a smile, diverting your gaze to your champagne, hoping there may be the secrets to being a good conversationalist somewhere within the bubbles.

He chuckled, the sound low and husky. It caused a shiver to go up your spine. “The event is well and fine, my lady. Are you… the proprietor of the gala tonight? I wouldn’t expect a beautiful thing such as yourself to plan something like this.”

You glanced up at him beneath fettered lashes. He was complimenting you and insulting the party at the same time. “No– I am not. I’d never choose such… dreary musicians for an event like this. They’re playing for a wake rather than a party– that would be my father’s doing.” you slipped it into the conversation, that this was your father’s party, trying to gauge if this handsome stranger was after what all of the others were.

Surprisingly, his expression, smooth and cool with the barest hint of a smile perking at his naturally upturned lips, didn’t change. “Dreary,” he repeated, “Melancholic, gloomy, monotonous, vapid– all good words to describe the state of affairs.”

“You have quite the expansive vocabulary, Mister…” your voice trailed off, an inadvertent way to ask for his name.

“Targaryen– Aemond Targaryen. And you?” he reached his hand out to shake yours – how incredibly formal– as you returned your own name with a wide-eyed stare.

“Targaryen. As in… the ancient bloodline? Descended from dragons, close to royalty, Dragonstone estate Targaryen?” you asked, mouth slightly agape. From what you knew of them, they were as close to the height of English royalty, real royalty, as there was in the current year, 1902. Their wealth alone, minus all of the titles, made your father’s look like a pissant trust fund. 

“The very same. You’re familiar with my family?”

“Ehm– familiar, more so I’ve heard of you all. Your family’s name comes up quite often in my father’s social circles. And I am quite nosy.”

“And what do you think?”

“About… your family? Mr. Targaryen–” 

“Call me Aemond.”

“Aemond– I don’t really know much besides the height of your prestige– and your family’s estate, Dragonstone. My father brought me back some photographs of it from his trips over the pond. It’s quite beautiful.”

“Your father brought you pictures of our home?”

“N-not just yours! I collect photographs of old estates, mostly ones from Europe. I like to use them for inspiration for my… stories. I’m a writer– a novice, mostly.”

“A writer? Have you published anything I might know?” 

“Oh, God no–” you laughed, covering your face slightly with your hand. “I’ve not yet been published. I actually sent my manuscript to… or will be sending one to a publisher soon. Hopefully.”

“What do you like to write?” he asked then, leaning a bit closer to you as if he was actually enjoying conversing with you. “Romance? Children’s fables?” he teased softly, his one eye gleaming. He was quite handsome, you thought.

“I like horror– mysteries, gothic fiction. I’m quite enamored with the… macabre and weird,” you admit. “I hope that doesn’t frighten you.” 

Aemond grinned, his teeth shining, canines pronounced against his thin lips. “Oh, yes, it does frighten me. But, all good horror stories should frighten their readers, yes? I expect you’re a fan of Vampyre? Perhaps Dracula?” 

“Both are good. My favorite, however, is Frankenstein. Mary Shelley is a genius. The Castle of Otranto is also wonderful and the pioneer of the genre. I remember trying to read it when I was younger and being scared of the dark hallways at night. Later on in life, those dark hallways enthused me enough to write about them– hence my… fascination with old houses.”

“Old homes certainly do have their fair share of secrets, don’t they?” he paused, straightening his lapel slightly before leaning back in towards you. “And do you believe what they say? That Mary’s husband wrote it and published it under her name?”

Your brows knit together in slight irritation. “Of course not. Why would he need to do such a thing? I hope you don’t mind me saying, but men already have enough advantages as is– publishing under a woman’s name instead might be considered a disadvantage.”

“Will you be publishing under your own name?” 

You blinked, taking a sip from your champagne. It was something you considered and went back and forth upon. “I haven’t decided. I have a pseudonym ready just in case.”

“Do tell– so I know what name to look for on the shelves within a year.” 

God, was he ever charming– and without even trying, really. He was well-spoken with a voice that was soft and almost whispery. It made butterflies bubble in the pit of your stomach– now that was a feeling you weren’t familiar with. “Dorian Gray.”

“Cheeky woman.” he mused. “Fancy a dance, Miss Gray?”

“... I suppose I could be swayed.”

–

Your dance together, to say the least, was a success– it started month’s worth of courting after. Aemond took you on the most splendid nights out, wining and dining you like you were a gorgeous, interesting debutante. It was exhilarating to say the least and made you feel… truly wanted– especially since his family was exceedingly wealthy, your father’s wealth couldn’t have attracted him. 

He took you to the theater, out to wondrous restaurants, and bought you various gifts like jewelry, writing supplies and outfits to wear when you went out.

It all felt very much like a dream to you– something beyond your usual, weary routine that had hardly ever changed since your mother died when you were eight years old. You’d recused into yourself then, the dark hallways that scared you so fiercely just before her death now seemed welcoming. You thrived in the dark, like a moth. 

But now, you felt something more akin to a butterfly, bathing in the sun’s light. 

It wasn’t a great surprise when Aemond asked your father for his blessing to marry you. Your father, who had harped you for years to get married, was suddenly apprehensive. 

He pulled you aside, arm around you. “Do you like this boy, dear?”

“Y-yes, father– very much so.”

“I’ll be honest, sweetheart. I’m not exactly keen on letting my only daughter go off with… some man–” 

“He isn’t just some man, father! He’s a Targ–” 

“Don’t interrupt,” he chastised firmly. “I’ve had my people look into his family further– it’s a whole mess, issues with succession, backstabbing, incest, the whole nine yards,” he took a measured breath. “But I’ve heard nothing but good things about… Aemond. But… you’d be so far away. You’d be off living in the annals of England, a whole boat’s ride away.”

“This is what you wanted, father! For me to marry, for me to be happy! This is the happiest I’ve been in… so long. You must see that?”

The creases in your father’s forehead relaxed as he regarded you for a long moment, before turning to Aemond, who was waiting patiently off to the side. He let go of your shoulder and walked to your beau, staring at him sternly. “Will you treat her right? Give her everything she deserves and more?”

Aemond perked up slightly, rubbing the side of his forefinger with his thumb in a seemingly nervous gesture. “Of course, sir. I’ll give her everything I have and more. She will be regarded as a Lady– the Lady Targaryen of Dragonstone Hall, and she wouldn’t be treated with any less respect than a Lady deserves.”

Your father’s gaze narrowed, taking it all into careful thought. “... very well. You have my blessing, son. But, one whiff of even a tear from her eye on your account, and your nads are forfeit. I may not be as well-off as your family, but I’ve got a lot of friends in a lot of places.”

– 

The marriage was a quick affair, as your father, and now Aemond, knew you had no patience for pomp and frills. Aemond gave you a beautiful ring with an absolutely gigantic sapphire inlaid in the center, citing it as a family heirloom from centuries past. Your father saw you off onto the boat, bawling his eyes out. You’d never seen your father cry– not once. 

As husband and wife, you both agreed to wait to celebrate your wedding night until you arrived in England at his family’s estate to your marital bed.

The trip overall was a little under a week’s time upon a luxurious liner, where you both enjoyed champagne and each other’s company. You craved your husband, and he craved you in the same, but you each wished to keep your agreement intact. But it was increasingly hard, as you held one another close each night and his need for you was clearly pressed to your lower back.

Dragonstone Hall was a few hours' carriage ride north of the port and was nestled upon a high-ridged cliff. It was as gorgeous as the pictures had depicted, even moreso. It was ancient, imposing against the skyline and mingling to the clouds, where sea birds and ravens alike swirled above the towering watch towers that were supported by stone walls with vines grasping to them like lifelines. 

It was gorgeous, gothic and most definitely haunted– a perfect place for a woman of horror such as yourself. 

Aemond helped you out of the carriage, a hand placed upon your waist as he guided you beyond the gates. Your eyes were wide with wonder, taking in the scenery like a breath of fresh air. Tears threatened to spill over suddenly, as you were just overwhelmed with everything going on. You were married to someone you loved, who loved you– and were the Lady Targaryen of Dragonstone Hall. 

“Something wrong, my love?” Aemond whispered into your ear, his lips tickling your lobe.

“N-no– I’m just… very happy.”

He wiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb, clearing your vision. You glanced up at one of the windows on the third story of the castle. Someone was staring back at you.

A lady. Her hair was red, her skin almost translucent. 

You must’ve been imagining it, surely. Looking to another window, another visage appeared.

Another– this time with dirty blonde hair, her blue eyes ghastly and bloodshot. She was practically see through. 

You pressed closer to Aemond, blinking profusely– it must’ve been the exhaustion from the nights on the boat catching up to you. Once you rubbed your eyes, you looked back; the figures were gone. 

As you approached the main door of the estate, another face caught your eye. 

Another woman– with dark hair and sullen, emerald eyes. They pierced through you like two heavy jewels, making goosebumps prickle atop your arms. She wasn’t ghastly or undeathly like the other two, and when you rubbed your eyes, she was still there.

She was still there, very much a living person in the flesh, with flowing blood and a beating heart. And she was beautiful.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #beware the sapphire peak #alysmond #alys rivers #alys rivers x aemond #alys rivers x reader #alys rivers x reader x aemond targaryen

[themotherofhorses]

about.

vic | she/her | 20s

southwestern native american and hispanic

gemini | bi-demi

ao3 | spotify

All Content 18+ | minors DNI

all my fanfics can be read below in my masterlist or found under my "vic writers 🧸" tag.

my inbox is always open. my main focus right now is centered on my "his handmaid's tales" and my relatively new "paloma" series. however, i am open to requests for simon riley (cod).

happy readings <333

Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty)

“There he is …. Simon Riley.”

multi-chapter series:

paloma (masterlist)

a multi-chapter series exploring the love story between a british sas lieutenant and his indigenous woman.

one-shots:

(to be added)

drabbles:

love at first sight w simon

holding simon while he cries

Aemond Targaryen (House of the Dragon)

"...Prince Aemond, despite the loss of his eye, had become a proficient and dangerous swordsman under the tutelage of Ser Criston Cole, but remained a willful child, hot-tempered and unforgiving..."

multi-chapter series:

last of her house no more (masterlist)

aemond targaryen with the daughter of daenerys stormborn and khal drogo.

just like animals (masterlist)

a dark & obsessive!aemond targaryen hunting down his sweet modern!wife (and also she’s preggos).

his handmaid's tales (masterlist)

the love story between prince aemond and his handmaid.

one-shots:

blood is thicker than water (but betrayal stains the most)

requests:

even the whales fall prey to men

what was mine is still mine, regardless of time

follow me now, and you will not regret (leaving the life you led before we met)

bodyguard!aemond x president’s daughter!reader

drabbles:

foolish men dream foolish lives

you are the moon, i am the sun (i will not allow you to forget)

obsessive!aemond targaryen with niece!reader

an eye for an eye (1) — a son for a son (2)

Alys Rivers (House of the Dragon)

"...Was she, in truth, a witch who lay with demons, bringing forth dead children as payment for the knowledge they gave her?"

one-shots:

mother's day special (part of "his handmaid's tales")

bewitched

drabbles:

you are the moon, i am the sun (i will not allow you to forget)

#masterlist #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #alys rivers #alys rivers x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #call of duty fanfiction

[toms-cherry-trees]

Fires of Harrenhal || AemondxReader/AlysxReader

Summary: Secrets and deceive always find their way through the stone halls

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: Angst I think? Betrayal. Character death. Very mild NSFW. Canon divergene from both book and show. Mention of war crimes and murder. Idk how else to do this without spoiling. No beta reading I have no one to beta for me

Author's note: Never. EVER in my life had I written something so long. And it has me very anxious. Also I don't know what this is exactly. It is not angst, nor fluff. I don't know. Enjoy!

A gentle drizzle fell from the overcast skies. Fine droplets of water collected on the braids in her hair, beading in her eyelashes, rolling down the curve of her neck to the swell of her breasts. The fabric of the green gown slowly soaked, and the air around her chilled, but she did not feel the cold. The measly mizzle could do little to match the frost spreading through her bones, born from the very depths of her soul, turning her to ice from the inside out.

His emblazoned cloak still hung loosely from her shoulders, heavy and comforting, even though the warmth of his body had been long lost to the rain. His scent lingered, smoke and leather, a faint hint of spiced wine; and something else which is entirely his own, indescribable and unexplainable, but it evoked danger. And death.

Words befitting to the place she stood. Harrenhal had been long cursed, ever since Harren the Black mixed blood in the mortar which kept the bricks together. Ever since the Black Dread torched down the fortress with the King and his sons inside. The passing of the years only added to the jinx. Death and misfortune followed whoever dared to settle within the crumbled and slagged walls. Entire houses and lineages exterminated, most recently house Strong; from the eldest man to the babes in the cradle, put to death by Aemond’s command. All of them but one.

A Strong bastard, from all people. 

Aemond’s infatuation with the wetnurse stunned those who bore witness to the affair, and speculation soon arose that the so called witch of Harrenhal had laid an incantation on the Prince, for otherwise it could not be explained that such proper and devoted man, always guided by rules and correctitude, devoted of the Faith, could so brazenly take a lover, an unworthy one at that, while his beautiful, perfect, dutiful wife awaited for his return at King’s Landing. No, Aemond could never.

But he could and he had.

Alys hadn’t been the first one. Others had been fleeting affairs or pleasures of one night, both before and after their wedding. Ladies from the court, his mother companions, town girls, even the occasional maidservant that caught his eye. But unlike with Aegon, they all came willingly, ensnared by the mystery of the one eyed prince. All of them forgotten as soon as dawn broke through, their silence bought with gold or jewels, and a cup of herbal tea drank under the watchful gaze of a maester.

She didn’t let their existence bother her too much. Always keeping her head held high and her gaze ahead, haughty, beautiful and proud. Aemond took great care to not leave a trail of bastards in his wake, unlike brother dearest, and never flaunted them in the open. No, before the court he only had eyes -eye- for his wife. A gentle hand on the waist, glances across the table, a kiss on the hand when they parted, and one in the forehead when they reunited. A most perfect and devoted husband, whose mask fell as soon as the doors closed behind him.

Some days she wished he would openly hate her, because at least it would prove him capable of any feeling towards her. Instead, he only offered her an impenetrable barrier of indifference bordering cruelty. Aemond would walk the Godswood with her, barely rewarding her with a hum of acknowledgement when she tried to engage conversation of any sort. She tried to show interest in his heritage, but he said she would never understand the history without carrying Valyrian blood. When she suggested meeting his dragon, he retorted that Vhagar didn’t take kindly to strangers, citing false concerns for her safety. 

Even the bedding he treated like a chore to be dealt with. Methodical, efficient, and dreadfully boring. He laid with his wife as little as possible, just enough to avoid any whispers or bad talking. He would send a servant to inform her in advance that he would visit her bed so she could be “prepared”. A quick affair, his body always on top, not a sound heard other than the occasional creaking of the bed, done. He rolled over and fell asleep before she had finished cleaning herself. Hells, she didn’t hold great expectations of the act, but for a man who took so many lovers she hoped for a bit more effort. 

When he became Regent, the weight of the borrowed crown awoke something deep within him, something that had always been there, dormant and expecting for its moment of glory. An obsession with control and power. He became possessive. He had to have her in sight at all times. If he sat the throne, she stood right next to him. When he held council, she acted as cupbearer, but only to serve his cup and his cup alone. If Aemond decided to sit in the library until the hour of ghosts going over scrolls and maps, she had to be there, dutifully waiting by his side until he decided to retire for the night.

They no longer slept separately, since he simply had the maids move all her belongings to his own chambers, while also disposing of things he decided she no longer required, like her childhood dolls, books of fantasy or any gown not made in green and gold. He also kept her diary in the drawer of his desk; it had to be back there every night without fail. She did not know if he read her entries, but decided to not risk it and write only about things he would like. The hours became long, since he allowed her to speak only with people he approved of; very few had earned that trust; and those who did she would rather not speak to. Even her servants had been swapped, her maids and guards replaced with former attendants of the Queen, more loyal to the Dowager than they would ever be to her.

Aemond’s departure for Harrenhal came as a relief, his presence having slowly grown into a suffocating weight on her chest and lurking shadow on her back. As soon as Aegon could rise from bed again, he sent his brother to retake the dilapidated fortress from their uncle, although she suspected it more to be a cock show off; to remind the people that even though the Greens had less dragons, they still had the biggest one.

Aemond requested his wife to accompany him, but Aegon swiftly refused. A warzone is no place for a lady, he said. She did not trust his intentions, but given he could barely do anything other than speak and drink, she felt confidently safe in the newfound solitude, dividing her time between accompanying Helaena, prayers with her good mother in the sept and her own recreations, in which she could now indulge fully, free of her husband’s criticism.

Bliss, however, proved to be fleeting. One day Aegon summoned her while she broke her fast, to his bedchamber of all places. The alcove smelled stale, a combination of souring wine and the sickly scent of various medicines and tinctures, all mixed with the pungent stench of something unidentifiable decomposing somewhere. Perhaps the putrefaction within finally caught up to the surface, and Aegon himself had begun to rot from the inside out. Which wouldn’t surprise anyone, given his current state.

The open letter in his scarred hand and the knavish smirk on his lips gave her a bad feeling. He sat unabashedly naked in his bed, his immodesties hidden only by a sheet soiled with something indescribable. She tried and failed not to look at the ruggish and reddened skin marring his left side, the movements of his arm clumsy and stiff as if Aegon had been coated with tar. Although that probably would have been a kinder fate than his armour melting into his flesh.

When her eyes met his own, she saw a twinkle of delight sparkle on them. A sick pleasure earned from her evident discomfort at the sight of himself.

“Your dearest husband summons you to his side, now that Harrenhal is back under our command. And I, ever the benevolent brother, will allow it”

Suspicion gnawed at her insides. More so when she tried to take the letter from Aegon’s hand, and he kept waving it teasingly out of her reach, displaying surprising agility despite his wounds. Right before she could snatch it away he tucked the paper under the sheets, in a place where he knew she’d never reach out, even under threat of death by dragonfire. His smile reached his eyes for the first time in months as he dismissed her, pleased like a child who got away with a prank.

Sleep refused to come to her that night, forcing her to toss and turn as she went over the day. She didn’t trust Aegon more than she’d trust a dog guarding a roasted pig. Aemond summoning his wife at his side would not be inconceivable; the brother who fulfilled his duty to the Crown and now demanded his prize. But Aegon’s willingness to let her go told a different story. Nothing entertained him more than toying with his little brother, and what better way to do it than denying him access to his wife only because he could.

An ulterior motive had to be there for the King to grant such freedom. Something she could not yet see.

Aegon even arranged her departure himself. A messenger went ahead so everything would be arranged for a proper welcome. The retinue, albeit reduced, included fine soldiers and swordmasters, all dressed in plain cloth and without pomp. Ser Criston himself joined in on the journey, wishing to also meet up with Aemond to discuss war strategies and their next moves. 

Green and gold banners and soldiers in formation awaited them in the immense courtyard upon arrival. The whistling of the icy wind through the cracks in the masonry made sounds like the fortress wept and howled, the souls of those who died within the walls using the wind to disguise their lamentations. 

The steward and a knight led them inside, up the Kingspyre tower and towards where she assumed her husband awaited. Large double doors of blackened wood stood slightly ajar, allowing a sliver of light into the hallway. The steward pushed the door open and announced Criston and herself. Both stepped into a large dining room, a table laid out with a feast to feed a dozen. Yet only two sat at the table. 

Aemond presided over the supper, at the spot of honour in what could only be described as a throne. In his lap sat a woman of milky skin and raven curls, cherry lips pulled into a seductive smirk, her elegant fingers carding through Aemond’s silky tresses. The bodice of the woman’s silk gown had been unlaced, one breast out of the garment and firmly captured in Aemond’s mouth.

She didn’t have time to see Aemond’s face before Criston pulled her away by the arm, his broad form standing between the disconcerted woman and the indecorous scene. But she made eye contact with the black haired woman, the woman who sat her husband’s lap, the woman whose fucking tit he suckled like an indefence infant. Green eyes bore into her own, resplendent and alluring like emeralds. The last thing she saw before the door slammed shut was the woman winking at her, as if they shared a secret.

Everything made sense now; the scattered pieces falling into place perfectly. Aemond had never written. Why would he, when he had a woman keeping his bed warm and his needs fulfilled, a woman whom he craved like a drunk craves a drink. Someone, no doubt a carefully placed spy, had surely written to Aegon to report the affair. And the King, in pain, scarred and woefully bored, allowed himself some entertainment. Soon enough he would be doubling over in laughter at the picture of his perfect brother caught with the Strong bastard’s tit in the mouth.

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife in the days that came. In order to preserve her own dignity, she had to act as if nothing had occurred. She broke her fast every morning with Aemond and Criston, not a single word spoken besides the usual morning greetings. Aemond could not look any of them in the eye, especially not his fatherly figure, who had never gazed upon the prince with such disappointment before. The silent treatment hurt Aemond more than the cut of a sword, that much was evident upon his face. But his wife didn’t feel an ounce of pity for him; in fact, she rejoiced in his shame. She wanted Aemond to feel at least a fraction of the silent disgrace she carried with herself. She wanted him to be the one who had to keep his head down and his mouth shut.

He hadn’t even tried to come to her chambers, aware of the reaction that would await him if the thought so much as crossed his mind. Which is why the knock on her door, late on the seventh night, came as a surprise. On the other side stood no other than Alys, the so-called witch, wearing the same gown of that first day. The wife tried to slam the door shut, but not fast enough to keep the woman out. Alys entered the chamber and sat near the fire, her skirts spread around her as she stared into the dancing flames. 

Before she could hurl insults and perhaps something more tangible at the whore, her voice echoed through the alcove. She had never heard Alys talk. Sweet and velvety, every word slipping past her plush lips in a mellow murmur. Even though they stood away from one another, the witch’s words resounded in her ear like a close whisper.

“You are unhappy”

Not a question. An affirmation.

“Unhappy because your husband doesn’t love you like he loves others. Because he refuses to show you care and adoration like you always dreamed of. He doesn't know how to cherish you, and you think you deserve better. You know you do”

Every fibre of her being urged her to scream insults at that brazen whore, to drag her by those perfect curls of hers and push her out the window. Yet she found herself unable to move or speak. Because, deep down, Alys had only said the truth. As if with just one look, she had been able to read her deepest thoughts and laid them out plainly in a way she never could. Tears pooled in her eyes, but her prideful nature kept her from letting them out. Crying in front of her husband’s mistress was a disgrace she would never recover from.

Alys stood, eyebrows knit together and features contorted in what could only be described as pity. Her soft, motherly hands cupped the younger woman’s cheeks, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with her thumbs. They stood like that for a moment, the tension dissolving into a comfortable silence as they assessed one another. At last, it was the wetnurse who broke the spell.

“I have seen your life in the flames. Not even diamonds shine as bright as your future”

The witch gave her a brief kiss on the lips and walked out silently, her steps silent in the flagstone, leaving behind a flabbergasted woman. 

After that, Alys came to her chambers every night. And for some reason, she didn’t turn her away, not even once. Maybe because she knew, deep down, that the woman could not be blamed for Aemond’s weakness of mind. Because her words had struck a chord inside her. Because if not her, she had no one to turn to at the moment, alone and isolated in a place where everyone bowed to Aemond’s bidding.

Maybe because she found herself enjoying Alys’ company more than she ever did his.

She found in the witch a friend she never had in the Red Keep. They strolled through Harrenhal together, Alys narrating the story behind those walls, and the lives born and lost there. She taught her about medicinal herbs and plants, knowledge forbidden to them as women. Alys had a voice suited for melancholic songs, and she would sing to the lady as she brushed her hair at night before bed, and before returning to the Prince’s rooms. Shared between two spouses who refused to look at one another, and whose only thing in common was their infatuation with the Rivers woman.

The arrangement felt ideal for her, having found in this odd circumstance the closest thing to happiness she had experienced since the day she recited her vows in the Sept. But Alys kept pushing for reconciliation between her and Aemond, urging her to salvage the feeble bridge of their marriage before it sank into the abyss. She felt unwilling, finding great comfort in not being forced to endure his presence. But Alys brought forth a greater problem, a problem which grew by the day under her dress.

“It is only you who can help me, my girl. One day he will tire of me, and me and my babe will be put to death, just as he did my entire House. He had the infants smothered in their cribs before the eyes of their mothers, and the women bury their children with their own hands before their heads rolled. What do you think he will do to a bastard born of another bastard?”

Panic and rage bubbled in her stomach at the thought of losing Alys. She had been witness to her husband’s cruelty during his time as Regent, which only grew after being given free will at Harrenhal. Servants lashed at the faintest of errors, maids with their heads shaved and fingers broken. Executions on the daily, followed by new servants being forcibly dragged from their homes to Harrenhal to maintain the cycle. Anyone who tried to flee ended with their head on a spike and their body fed to Vhagar. It seemed like the curse of Harrenhal had slipped into Aemond’s mind, filling him with blackness and slowly pushing him to the brink of destruction like many before him. And it disgusted her to no end.

No, she could not allow herself to lose Alys. She needed her like she needed to breathe. She needed those motherly hands braiding her hair, that sweet voice entoning the saddest melodies ever written, the scent of her skin embedded in her pillows to soothe her into sleep as nimble fingers caressed her hair. 

For her, she would try.

That night Alys came to her chamber as usual, Aemond with her. Husband and wife stood face to face at last, infelicitous and tense like their first night, their unspoken words lingering heavy in the air. Alys moved to stand behind her, hands on the younger woman’s shoulders. Soft fingertips tracing the curve of the neck, up to the crown of the head and then down to the collarbones; calmness spread through her veins like a salve, warming her to the tips of her toes. Alys’ lips caressed her ear, her words seeping into her brain like smoke and clouding her thoughts.

“Trust me”

Trusting Alys came as easy as breathing. Even as she undressed the lady slowly, taking her time to undo the laces of the bodice and the clasps in her skirts. Peeling away silk, lace and linen, baring soft skin and feminine curves. Aemond’s pupil widened with lust as he stood spectator, witnessing his mistress caress his wife with the greatest love and care. Kisses brushing down the neck and collarbone, gentle hands tracing the curve of the hips and the descent of the thighs, moving over forbidden places as warm lips met into a shy and delicate kiss; tongue against tongue, small sounds of delight escaping through. 

When Alys finally passed her into Aemond’s embrace, she whined in protest. Aemond didn’t know how to touch her. His coarse hands were clumsy on her flesh, too harsh where she wanted featherlight, and not enough effort where she wanted more action. When her husband laid her on the bed, nestled between her thighs, Alys sat at the head, kissing, teasing and fondling while Aemond chased his own pleasure amidst grunts and pants. Alys’ hand snaked down her body slowly, between the breasts and past the navel. She screamed her climax into the woman’s neck, legs instinctively wrapping around Aemond’s hips as he too found his release.

The routine repeated night after night, for weeks on end.

And the more they did it, the more she found herself wishing it was just her and Alys; Aemond’s presence having gone from a necessity to a nuisance. His wife no longer wanted him to touch her, and only withstood on the promise that it would be her favourite witch the one to rip the highest throes of ecstasy from her body. This no longer was just about securing Alys’ safety; she wanted her safe and sound, by her side. Forever. And as she said, one night long after Aemond had left them, only one way they could secure such idyllic future for themselves.

The news of the fall of King’s Landing had reached them not long ago. The relief of Aegon’s disappearance alongside his children could not placate the terror Aemond felt at knowing his mother and sister remained at the Keep, now prisoners of Rhaenyra and her mad husband. Aemond wished for nothing more than to climb Vhagar and torch down the Crownlands, burning the last leaf on every tree to retrieve his family. But he stood put, on Alys’ command.

“You do not need to chase the war, my Prince. It shall come to your door through clouds of storm”

So they sat and waited, as day after day passed with sunny and clear skies, the God’s eye reflecting the blueness, waters calm and inviting. A fortnight after Alys’ vision, the night chilled and the wind picked up. She stood behind the lady, a silver comb in hand as she untangled her hair before bed. Her scent filled her nostrils and eased her fears. Picking up her uneasiness, she brewed her tea, which she fed her slowly, one spoonful at a time.

“All will be well, my child. Our troubles will vanish and our futures will be clearer than the waters in the God’s Eye”

That night Aemond didn’t come. That night belonged only to Alys’ and her little lady. To taste in the seclusion of the chamber what would be theirs for the rest of their lives.

The next morning, grey clouds hovered over Harrenhal, the breeze carrying the smell of rain mixed with sulphur. The high pitched dragon cries echoed in the mountains around the keep, alerting of the approaching danger. Aemond emerged from the tower, a vision of black and gold in his armour, his sword hanging from his belt and a cloak with the three headed golden dragon in his back.

First he bid Alys farewell. She whispered secret words in his ear; whatever she said, it made him set his jaw and tighten his fist around the hilt of the sword. Then he moved onto his wife. He had shown himself warmer and more loving since Alys’ intervention, blissfully unaware of his wife’s feelings. He cupped her cheek in one hand and kissed her like never before, humming against the softness of her sweet lips. She fitted his helmet over his head, tucking the silvery white braid away. The first drops fell from the clouds, and he unfastened his cloak to wrap around her shoulders, providing warmth and safety.

“I shall see you at the end” He murmured the words against her hairline, placing a tender kiss upon her brow.

And with that Vhagar rose to the skies with a deafening screech, the flapping of her leathery wings sending gushes of warm wind around Harrenhal’s dilapidated towers, the empty halls and vast chambers echoing with eerie wails that forewarned the battle to unfold. On the opposite side of the God’s Eye, Caraxes appeared as well, high pitched roars and puffs of smoke sent as a warning, his misshapen body cut over the greying clouds. Once more, dragon against dragon would clash in the sky, and tears would be shed in the wake of their fire. 

Any witness would assume Aemond had the upper hand, the deformed and younger Blood Wyrm being no match for the considerably larger and more experienced war dragon. But dear Alys’ visions had never failed her, and they wouldn’t betray them now. Nor would the gentle poison she had concocted for the occasion, spread across the wife’s lips just moments before she kissed Aemond farewell, not strong enough to kill, but the right dosage to ensnare the senses and befuddle the mind. 

Calm, deliberate steps took her to the top of Kingspyre tower, her path illuminated by the blazing glow of the fire coming in through the windows, the skies tinted in bright hues of red and orange. The wind blew warm and strong as she approached the ledge, ground trembling beneath her feet, reverberated by the clashing of colossal bodies. For a brief moment she feared for her own life when they flew too close to Harrenhal, but the vision had been precise and showed no threat to her life. 

Her hands rested on the stone, ancient dust sticking to the sweat of her palms; heartbeat quickened in anticipation. As predicted, in perfect synchronisation, both dragons widened their jaws. Caraxes pierced Vhagar’s throat, while she tore his wing to shreds and slashed his belly open. Both beasts spiralled downwards, locked onto one another. From afar she couldn’t tell, but it seemed as if a small, black blur fell from Caraxes’ back. Whatever it was, it was soon obscured by the spray of water that rose from the Eye as both dragons sank, the gout as tall as the tower she stood in. When the lake finally settled, all that marked the spot of such a great battle were bubbles and steam rising to the surface, and then silence. A silence like never before had existed.

She remained rooted, hands on the stone, eyes fixed on the middle of the lake until the last bubbles popped under the raindrops. She did not move from her lookout post. Not even as the rain fell stronger, droplets hitting her skin like icicles, aiding into the ruined shell of the freshly grieving widow she pretended to be. 

A knight came to her, nervous and apologetic, calling her attention with a sharp clearing of the throat. She looked up, rapidly blinking away unexisting tears, and dabbing at her cheeks with the back of her hand. Composed but frail. Dignified even in the face of loss. He waited for any sort of acknowledgement, and when none came, decided to speak.

“We share your sorrow, my Lady, and our thoughts are with you. This has washed ashore, and we thought you may want it” The soldier’s voice did little to sway her, and she didn't even grace him with a look. 

The heavy, loaded silence between them was broken by the soft tapping of female slippers and the rustle of stiffened skirts. A brief exchange of hushed words later, the knight left the rooftop; she remained silent and still until she could no longer hear the metallic clanking of his armour. 

Alys stood by her side, dark curls fluttering freely in the wind. In her pale hands, resting lightly atop the curve of her swollen belly, was Aemond’s helmet, still in pristine condition, not a scratch upon its surface. The older woman stared at it for a few moments before placing it in her hands. It felt final. Like closing a tedious book, or awakening from a bothersome nightmare. The last word in another chapter of history. A chapter written by their own hands.

Alys called her name, moving to stand behind her. A soft kiss pressed at the nape of the neck, slender fingers running down the length of her spine soothingly, making her shiver pleasantly. The smell of sandalwood, lemongrass and honeysuckle engulfed the girl. 

“It’s over” Her words tickled her ear “His name will not be called again, and no good thoughts will be evoked upon his memory”

Another kiss behind the ear, hands on her breasts, pulling her flush against her body “I know your thoughts are troubled, my child, but the right thing has been done. His fire burned too strong, and he would have brought the realm to ashes, including you and me”

Her words were soothing. She was right; Alys was always right. Aemond would have been their demise. They did what they had to protect themselves, and protect the realm. A kinslayer could not be trusted; it had been his nephews before, and any day would be his brother and anyone else who stood between the sapphire Prince and the Iron Throne. He had to be stopped.

“My only regret is that he died not knowing it was me. The one he would have never suspected. I would gladly give all my family’s gold for the chance to tell him, even if it meant paying him visit in the Seven Hells where he belongs”

The neckline of her gown was pushed aside, plush lips leaving a trail of kisses down her neck towards the collarbone, hands sliding down from her bosom to the hips, digging into her flesh.

“Worry not your little head, my girl. That does not matter anymore. His bones will rest forever at the bottom of the God’s Eye. And whatever you wished to tell him, you will soon be able to pass the message along”

Alys and her cryptic words. She loved to speak in riddles and rhymes, unnerving those who heard them and didn’t know better. She only smiled and nodded. 

And then the helmet rolled down.

Her hands remained mid aid, fingers curled around nothing, every muscle tense and trembling. She looked down past them towards the crimson stain growing upon the fabric of her bodice, and the sharp length of blade protruding from between her hips, coated in a red so deep it seemed black, viscous drops falling from the tip onto her husband’s last possession.

The scream died in her lips as the dagger was twisted and dragged upwards, effectively slicing her open like a squeaking boar. But she had not made sound, nothing aside a choked cry of agony as the weapon was brought down again, ensuring the cut along to be neat and thorough

“I truly didn’t want things to end like this, my sweet flower” Same gentle voice and soothing tone, words dripping venom and malice mixed with honey and sugar. Her index traced a slow line from her neck down to the point where the hilt of the dagger was pressed against her back, the carved handle still firmly grasped in her hand

“I truly enjoyed our time together, and you could have been so much more. You have the guile and the guts to match, and your mind is a most resourceful place. You could have achieved greatness, and with my nurturing, no one would have been able to stop you”

Both of her tender, motherly hands placed upon her lower belly, right under the fatal wound. The blood soaked her hands, red on white, and she gasped almost excitedly, basking on the feeling of life spilling on the stone. She did not know how her body was still standing. Perhaps it was the witch’s doing. Dragging on her demise, enjoying the wicked pleasure that came along with having power over someone else’s life. 

She made a shushing sound against her ear, tenderly rubbing her abdomen in circles as the first tears finally poured from her eyes.

“I see it all, you see. Everything and more. I have seen what lies ahead of you. Trust me, I am sparing you from a lot of pain and grief”

The edges of the world faded to black, vision narrowing until all she could see was the dagger. That and  the puddle of her own blood growing at her feet. 

“His blood cannot carry on beyond the confines of Harrenhal. Only this cursed place can halt the strength born of his offspring. But there can be only one”

Her voice sounded distant. The last thing the lady saw was the courtyard, far down but growing closer as her body felt weightless in the air.

“Only one son can be born”

#marsie writes #aemond targaryen #alys rivers #aemond targaryen one shot #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x alys rivers #alys rivers x reader #aemond x alys x reader #aemond targaryen x alys rivers x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond one eye

[writingsofwesteros]

Hey I think requests are open? Can you do a one shot with Aemonds innocent sister who follows him everywhere, goes to harrenhal with him. Aemond then walks into his sisters chambers to find Alys between her thighs and just takes pleasure in watching them both

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

Gods, sometimes Aemond wished you did not worship him so much. It was too dangerous for you to be here. Still, he wouldn’t change you for the world, he thought to himself whilst slowly moving towards your quarters. The argument you had both had the evening prior had broken his heart; the words continued to move through his mind.

He hated arguing with you; Aemond could count on three fingers the amount of times you had. The Prince looked down at the bright flowers that looked so ridiculous in his hand. The red roses hardly blooming but he had tried his best. Gods, he hoped you were in a better mood - he hated fighting with you but couldn’t you see it was for your own protection. 

Aemond tapped the wooden door with his knuckles; mind still racing as he clutched the flowers tighter. A soft whimper came over his ears, which only brought confusion over him. That was until worry took over him.”Princess…” The nickname he had for you whispered from his lips as Aemond slowly opened the door an inch and then another.

The sight that greeted him had Aemond’s eyes widening; the flowers completely forgotten about as they dropped to the floor. It was the moans that came over him first; the sweet ones as he stepped to the side and finally saw you. Your name fell from his lips as your body arched in the throws of passion Alys was giving you.

“My Prince…” Alys purred; those dark eyes of hers locked onto Aemond before she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your soaked pussy before sucking on your clit some more. Your body jolted at her touch as your head lolled to the side. “Aemond…” You whimpered out breathlessly; a blush forming on your cheeks.

The state of shock still bubbled inside Aemond as he watched the display in front of him; his soft cock becoming harder now and straining against his pants. Those dark eyes of Alys slowly looked up and down his body with an amused look all the while her tongue was working around your soaked pussy; circling your clit.

The obscene, lewd sounds of yours echoed around the room as your body was no longer staying still now. You delicately reached for Alys’ hair and tugged her without thought; the desperation running wild inside you. Your soft, ample breasts began to bounce, which only caught Aemond’s eye some more as he turned his head.

Your eyes rolled back as her sucking only continued; a slender finger or two of Alys’ began to brush through your soaked lips; teasing your entrance before slowly pushing in. A sharp gasp escaped you as Aemond stepped forward on instinct. Your body was flushed and arching once more as Alys curled her fingers.

“Taste her.” Alys softly whispered up to Aemond; her voice purring. Enchanting the Prince to begin moving forward. “It is what she wants.” The witch continued to whisper into both of your ears. “She’s dreamt of you.” A soft blush moved over your cheeks as you whimpered; shyly hiding your face into the pillows.

“Do you not want her?” Alys continued; the movements of her fingers only became quicker now as they pushed deeper. You moaned  and whimpered even more before a startled gasp escaped you when Aemond reached to touch your thrashing body. His eagerness and hunger you had never noticed before was easily read in his eye now.

Gently, he reached for your soft, ample breasts that were on full display. Of course - you had seen the amount of times he stared down your dress. It was no surprise that it was his first touch. The surprise was how gentle he was..how shy. You softly whimpered; chewing on your bottom lip as your body arched for him.

“Take what you want.” Alys purred as she cheekily added a third finger in your soaked, tight pussy that clamped on her. The quickness grew as the squelching of your wetness only echoed around the room some more. Soon, Aemond’s hot mouth engulfed your soft, sensitive breast that had you whimpering out even more.

“Aemond…” His name falling from your lips as you reached for his hair; guiding him closer and keeping him there. His tongue brushed over your pebbled nipple that caused goosebumps to brush over your soft skin. Your toes curled in pleasure once more as Alys’ fingers easily pushed against your spongy spot again and again.

His larger hand moved to your free breast and began to palm; thumb brushing over your pebbled nipple before pinching it. “Oh..oh gods..!” A cry escaped you at the action as Aemond only chuckled against your breasts some more. Alys’ thumb brushed over your clit, causing your body to jolt once more from the sheets beneath you.

Aemond softly began to kiss up your chest; his tongue moving over your soft skin as he pressed open mouthed kisses up your neck and jaw. Your eyes locked as your pretty face began to screw up in pleasure. Soon, he leaned in and lovingly captured your soft lips. A sweet gasp escaped you as your eyes widening; your arms looping around his neck.

The kiss only deepened; your tongues dancing as your eyes began to flutter shut now. Your body and mind surrendering completely. Aemond pressed all the love and devotion he had for you after all these years that it was building. “Want ..want you…” You softly babbled out breathlessly as you leaned away to breathe.

Alys only chuckled; pressing soft kisses up and down your inner thighs as her fingers continued to play with you. The pleasure had your head falling back once more as you missed the slow movements of Aemond. It was only when a longer, rougher tongue brushed over your clit and the cries of your pleasure only grew louder than you realised he had moved.

The slurping of Aemond’s tongue had you blushing madly as one hand was in both of their hairs as the pleasure only increased. Your stomach began to tighten even more as you slowly rocked against their fingers and tongue. “Yes..oh, my..so good..” I babbled nonsense as whines and moans escaped me; echoing around the room as I was pleasured so intensely. 

Your inner thigh only became wetter as a free hand of yours moved to grip so tightly on the sheets surrounding you. You were so close; the pleasure so new and exciting. You only wanted more as your climax finally ripped through you without warning. You squirted around her fingers and his tongue that only continued to lap hungrily at her.

Your body continued to thrash at the intense pleasure ripping through you. The begs to stop were on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t find it in yourself to say so…not when it felt so good. Not when you had Aemond here. Your eyes locked onto Alys and it was as if she could read your mind as she slowly leaned away.

Her dripping, slender fingers moved into her own mouth as she hotly sucked on them whilst watching Aemond move into the space she left. His face never moves from in between your legs as his own fingers spread your lips apart. “You have done this before.” Alys commented as you whimpered; a soft frown coming over your face at the idea of Aemond being with someone else.

The Prince only hummed; neither in agreement or anything else as he locked eyes with you. He watched as you began to lose yourself once more as he greedily lapped up the juices you gave him. Your inner thighs are now completely soaked as were the sheets underneath you. Still, Aemond continued to drive you to another release.

TAGLUST

@aerangi

@phantoms-main-blog

@i-killed-ramsey

@watercolorskyy

@snh96

#aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #request #alys rivers x reader

[fadingdreamland]

Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!wife!reader x Alys Rivers

Warnings : open relationship, SMUT, threesome (FMF/FFM), spit kink, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, bathtub sex, not proofread

English is not my first language. Also this is my first time writing smut. Sorry if it's kinda cringe.

2091 words

You entered Harrenhal on foot, surrounded by guards. You had been separated from your husband for months. He had written to you about his lover, Alys Rivers, and you grew curious about her. Not jealous. You and Aemond had had lovers before and even at times shared them. 

The agreement was made when he took you from Storm’s End, right before you wedding. He though that yours would be a loveless marriage. He was wrong. Love grew between you two but it did not stop you from seeking pleasure in others, too. You were almost as promiscuous as Aegon but you hid your depravities well.

The letters your husband had sent you described the encounters he had had with his new lover. Those letters got you extremely turned on. You tried to seek relief by yourself, then with lovers of your own but it was never enough. So you left for Harrenhal without even warning of your arrival.

That must be the reason there was no one to receive you. Heads turned toward you in the courtyard. As if they knew who you were but were not sure. It did not take you long to find your husband.

“Y/N,” Aemond said as you walked into the room. He was with his men around a table, likely planning their next attack against the Blacks. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you that disappointed to see me, husband?”

“Leave us.” Aemond orders to the men and the room clears. As soon as the door is closed Aemond is on you. His lips caressing yours, his tongue in your mouth as he holds you against him and your hands cup his face.

“You could not expect me to stay in King’s Landing after the letters you sent me”

His lips raise in a smirk. “So you did not come al the way from King’s Landing to see me.”

“Your letters got me so wet. Even my lovers could not satisfy me.“

His smile turns even more mischievous as if it were possible. “I have duties, wife. I cannot simply drop them to fuck you.“

“I can wait. In your chambers. With Alys.” You said, slowly caressing his hardening cock through the fabric of his breeches. As he leans in to kiss you again you step away, your hand leaving his cock. “The travel has been long, husband. I would like a bath. And food.”

He nods and less than an hour later you have a warm bath prepared for you in Aemond’s chambers. You take off you cloak and the maid helps you out of your gown. You enter the bath, warm water relaxing you muscles. You sigh in relief.

A knock on the door startles you out of your relaxing time. A woman with black hair enters with a tray overflowing with food and leaves it on the table in front of the bed, a few feet away.

She curtesies to you.“Princess, I am Alys Rivers. Prince Aemond’s maid.”

“Of course, you are.” You turn toward the maid. “Leave. Lady Rivers will help me bath”

The maid nods, curtsies and leaves.

“Please, princess, call me Alys. I am no lady.“

“Then you shall call me by name, too.”

Alys grabs a cloth and kneels beside the bathtub. She rubs your back, and your shoulders, your chest and goes down the valley of your breasts.

“The Prince talked a lot about you. You are as beautiful as he described.” Alys praises in what could be considered a whisper.

“I have heard about you, too, Alys. In Aemond’s letters.”

“Am I as you imagined, Y/N?” The whisper of your name on her lips makes you clench your thighs together.

“I do not know yet. Undress and I will know.”

Alys stares at you. You cannot tell if she is surprised but you can clearly see lust in her eyes.

“Undress, Alys.” You repeat. “I am not asking, I am ordering.”

She stands up and starts taking off her dress, unties her corset then lets the fabric drop on the ground. She is bare to you. The perfect swell of her breasts, her pale skin and her cunt.

“You, too, are as Aemond described.” You finally say after staring at her for a moment that seemed too short to you. 

“What else do you know about me ?” Alys asks.

“People say that you are a witch. They say you have bewitched my husband into fucking you.”

“What do you say?”

“You are a witch, Alys Rivers. But I don’t think you used whatever power you have on my husband.” Your eyes roam her naked body “With breasts like that, a body like yours… There’s no need to use magic to fuck whoever you want”

Alys simply smiles at you. It is not a warm smile or a nice one, it is a rather… lustful smile.

“Join me,” you gesture toward the other end of the bathtub.

Alys does not hesitate or wait and enters the bathtub, sitting opposite you. Her legs brush yours. One of your hands grips her foot and slowly travels up her leg your body following once you reach her knee until you are straddling her lap.

Her face so close to yours that you feel every one of her breaths on your face. Her breasts and yours touching, rubbing against each other. Her hands go to your waist and push you down on her even more. Your cunt clenches around nothing.

You lean in, your forehead against hers, your nose rubs against her cheek. You put one hand on the side of her face and kiss her. Her lips are soft, you press your tongue against her lower lip and her tongue infiltrates your mouth. 

One of her hands grabs you hair and tugs at it, your head goes slightly backward and your mouth opens even more. Alys licks your lips and presses against your tongue, she moves to kiss your neck then your chest and finally she gets to your breasts. Her tongue dances all over them driving a sigh of pleasure out of you.

You cannot resist any longer and your hands cup her breasts massaging them, you feel her moans muffled by your breast in her mouth. Your hand moves from her tit to her throat, you wrap your head around it and tug her away from your chest. You lock eyes with her.

“Fuck, Alys. You’re even better than what Aemond told me.”

Alys tucks her lower lip between her teeth. You grab her by her cheeks with one hand, the other still playing with her tit.

“Open your mouth.” She does as you say, her mouth falls open.

You lick the insides of her mouth as she had done to you before and then tou spit in her mouth.

“Swallow.” You whisper. Again, she does as you say. “Tell me, Alys, what did Aemond say you about me?”

“He said that your title may be ‘princess’ but you really are a whore.” You smirk. “He also said that your cunt is divine.”

“I guess I am a whore. But I do not know if my cunt is truly divine. Will you tell me?” You ask her as you lead her hand between your legs.

“Yes. Tell her.” A voice from the door says.You and Alys look toward the voice. Aemond. Heis standing, his back against the closed door.“She never believes me when I do.”

“How long have tou been standing there?” Alys asks.

“Since my wife’s tit was in you mouth.”

You look down his body and notice the tightness in his breeches. You smile, biting you lip.

“Come, husband. We will relieve the pressure in your breeches” You say.

Aemond crosses the room until he is standing beside the bathtub. Alys reaches for his breeches, unties them and lets them fall to the floor. Aemond’s cock springs free. As Alys goes to wrap her mouth around it you pull her face to you and kiss her just as intensely as you had done before. Aemond groans in frustration as Alys kisses you back. 

You pull away out of breath and without breaking eye contact with Alys you bring you husband’s cock to you mouth. You lick the tip and prompt Alys to do the same. You both start kissing and liking Aemond’s cock until you pull it inside her mouth, she starts sucking as you stand up to kiss Aemond. Your husband enters your mouth with his tongue as one of his hands cups your breast and the other is on the back of Alys’ head while he fucks her mouth.

Suddenly you feel something moving over your cunt, you look down and see Alys’ hand cupping it. As you return to kiss Aemond you guide Alys’ fingers to your clit.

She starts rubbing there, you moan into your husband’s mouth. You reach for his eyepatch and pull at it to take it off. You pull away from him to look at his face. Fuck, you love to see him without his eyepatch. 

You feel Alys’ mouth on your clit and moan as you look down and see her hand around Aemond’s cock and her face buried in your cunt. You reach for your husband’s manhood as you kiss him again. You play with his balls, then wrap your hand around his cock and stroke him. This makes Alys focus solely on you as she sucks on your pearl she brings her fingers to your entrance. You put a foot on the edge on the bathtub to give her better access.

She inserts a finger, then another and she pumps in and out. In and out. Your mouth falls open and Aemond uses this opportunity to spit in your mouth, hot liquid invading your mouth. You swallow as you know he likes it.

He grabs Alys by her hair and yanks her up, forcing her to stand up. You whimper at the loss of contact. Aemond spits in Alys’ mouth, then in yours and guides you two to each other. You kiss Alys, this time it is your tongue in her mouth, you taste a mixture of Aemond and you in her mouth and by the gods you’ve never been so turned on.

“I want to taste her cunt,” I tell Aemond as I pull away from Alys.

“Then perhaps it is time to move to the bed,” he answers.

I nod and grab Alys’ hand and lead her out of the bathtub, you push her on the bed. You kneel on the bed as she crawls backwards, farther into the cushions. You feel Aemond behind you, his chest against your back. He got rid of all his clothes. Perfect. He puts his hand to the back of your neck and with one swift movement he brings your face down to Alys’ cunt.

“Fuck her with your mouth,” he orders and you comply.

You lick at her pearl drawing breathless sighs from her. Licking is soon not enough for you and you wrap your mouth around her clit and part of her mouth. You suck, lick, bring your fingers to her entrance. Her hand wraps around your hair, begging for more. Two fingers inside her and Aemond pushes inside you from behind without warning. Tou scream out in pleasure into Alys’ cunt. Aemond’s hard thrusts guide the rhythm go your fingers and tongue on Alys’ cunt. The moans ans groans and skin-slapping sound invade the chamber.

Your free hand goes up Alys’ body until it reaches her tits, you lassie them as you keep your mouth sucking and licking her clit and your fingers go in and out of her.

Aemond slaps your ass making you moan, his thrusts become faster, harder, his hand reechoes around you tu rub your pearl the way he knows drives you crazy and he comes inside you triggering your own release. Alys comes in your mouth as Aemond rides out your orgasm. You lick every drop of Alys’ release. She tastes as good as Almond told you.

Your husband lies down beside Alys as you lie down on the other side of your new lover. After recovering your breath in a few minutes, Alys’ hand reaches to your belly, where your womb is.

“She will carry your child soon, Aemond.” She says. It is not a guess or a hopeful comment, she seems certain of it. She is certain of it.

“So will you,” he answers with a smirk as his cock hardens again.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #alys rivers #almond targaryen x reader #alys rivers x reader #aemond targaryen x alys rivers #aemond smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen smut #alys rivers smut #hotd one shot #prince aemond

[witchofhimring]

Being the daughter of Alys Rivers

Alys x daughter reader (platonic)

ft. alysmond/ alys x aemond

-Alys will either be your bio mother or adopted. If you are born to Alys it is by her own choice. Likely she wanted a baby of her own. If you are adopted it is because your birth parents did not want you and left. Taking pity, Alys will take you in.

It was quiet in Harrenhal, the only noises those few that remained awake. Alys sat by the hearth holding a small squirming bundle. She gazed down at the baby's face, your eyes closed. One long finger caressed thin hair. Your shuffled slightly but other then that were still. Alys had always wanted a child but never had the chance. Now she did Alys felt a warmth in her. A feeling almost completely foreign. She's had little in her life, her mother gone, father pretending she did not exist, and any child she cared for taken once old enough. Now she finally had a baby to herself. Y/n yawned slightly and opened her wide eyes. A few snuffles was all that left her. "There there Y/n. Go back to sleep." Alys cooed.

- Your childhood is dominated by Alys. There are not many kids in Harrenhal and Alys trusts no one else with you. You are working at an early age as a maid. It was mostly menial tasks, your mother forbid you doing anything dangerous. She allowed you to have fun after work and play amongst the few children. However you never stayed long and went back to mother. Alys sewed a lot of toys for you. Your dresses as well were made of good quality. Because Alys was given so little as a child she made sure you wanted for nothing.

Alys noticed her daughter eyeing a toy bunny in shop. It was a cute thing, made of dark brown fur and buttons. Of course Y/n did not say it aloud, these things cost money. But Alys was not adverse to giving her daughter something. So when Y/n went back to her chores Alys popped into the shop and asked how much it was. Giving her a wary eye all the time, the shop keeper named the price. It was not too bad, and the toy of good quality. So she bought it. No doubt they would whisper that the bastard daughter would do some ill by it. How foolish they were. She found Y/n by the hearth finishing het sewing. At first Y/n did not bother looking up, so concentrated was she. Alys crept towards her daughter, toy in hand. "Y/n, I have something." Turning, you saw the toy you had been eyeing in her hands. Delighted, you took it with a thanks. Alys watched as you fawned over your new toy.

-You receive an advanced education for a girl your status. From the library Alys pilfers books and parchment. You are taught to read and write from a young age. Language foreign to Westeros is heard upon your tongue. Most important, magic. Alys teaches you all she know and shows you images from the flames. You learn of prophecies that have past, are happening and will happen. In the night two witches chant their spells, learning secrets beyond the knowledge of mortal men.

Everyone was asleep in Harrenhal. That was, unless one did not count the two witches wide awake. Your mother had crawn a circle out of chalk, symbols drawn with a white thin finger. Once done Alys knelt down, green dress fairing out behind. You stood back slightly. Not out of fear, but to learn. Alys said words none other but you two understood. Although Alys knew them on a much deeper level. At your young age there was still so much left to learn. So you watched and memorized her actions. When younger you had always feared that guards would burst in and cart you two off for witchcraft. But now you knew mother would always be there to protect. From the center came a ghostly apparition. Its skeletal body twisting and turning grotesquely. Anyone else would have fled. But you were so used to stranger things that little fazed you. It leaned towards your mother and whispered something soft. Then it was gone. "What did it say?" Alys turned and smiled. "He is coming."

-When war broke out you never left Alys's side. She kept you near at all times. Days grew darker and all knew bloodshed would find itself at Harrenhal. Alys continues teaching you magic. When Daemon came to Harrenhal Alys kept you inside. Afterwards Alys is even more vigilante over your protection. Alys drew symbols around the door, telling you that no one but you two would be able to enter. The days grew darker and your mother spun her web.

Prince Aemond came astride his great beast Vhaegar. You and Alys knew first, sensed him, smelt him on the air. "Y/n, go to our room.' Obeying, you waited. A few times you heard a thunderous knock at the door. Someone took a heavy object and tried to break it down. Nothing worked and you were safe. Unfortunately you were not spared the screams because you could hear them. Men, women and children crying out. Sitting on the bed you tried to block them out with little success. When the door finally did open it was your mother. Without a word you flung yourself into her arms. "It's alright Y/n. We are safe."

-Others may have feared her, but to you Alys was everything. For the next few days your mother had you stay in the room. When you asked what had happened she said "everything is well". Trusting, you stayed. A week later she finally lets you out. Prince Aemond terrifies you. It is not his actions (Alys would have torn him apart if that happened), but his general presence. There was something dark within this young man that unsettled you greatly. Sometimes he would look at you but say nothing. But Alys seemed unworried and he seemed to like you mother. The change was odd. You no longer had to work as a maid but were allowed to solely dwell on studying. Your dresses were nicer as well. Dinner was sometimes taken with the Prince and your mother. It was a strange new world.

You stayed by your mothers side, small hand clinging to her dress. This room once belonged to the lord of this castle, however you had never stepped inside. Standing in front of you was a rather tall man. Or rather he looked so tall to a young girl such as yourself. He looked down his pointed nose, silver Targaryen hair framing a narrow face. His one eye made you shrink. Aemond Targaryen, prince, rider of Vhaegar and kinslayer. "How old is she?" "Eight. But my daughter is not given to childish exploits. So do not mistaken her for an invalid." Alys's grip tightened on you. Feeling safe by your mothers side you looked up at her. Alys showed no fear in the face of a man who had slain his own nephew. Your mother had faced more terrifying forces than this mortal man.

-You did not like Aemond. At least at first. He terrified you, and his monopolization of your mothers attentions brought jealousy to the surface. Aemond had very little to do with you. Alys had become more protective, keeping you by her side. Now that the castle was under Aemond's control (and by association hers) Alys took this opportunity to teach you magic more freely. None would dare to speak of the witch and her daughter (at least not yet. One day you were sitting outside, the light in your palms gently floating. It was liberating to conjure in the open with no worries of getting caught. Someone approached but you ignored them, thinking it was your mother. It was only when they spoke that you realized it was Aemond. Immediately you jumped up, the light disappearing in a thin trail of smoke. Aemond seemed apprehensive, but eventually asked if you wanted to ride on Vhaegar. Looking to the dragon, you were not entirely sure it was safe. But curiosity won.

Lets just say when you and Aemond finally got back down Alys was there. Yup. Aemond was fucked.

You should have been far more terrified. Vhaegar was enormous and even a claimed dragon was no pet. She turned her steely eyes upon you. Likely, it was Aemond's presence that stopped her from turning you into a snack. "Have you ever ridden with anyone else?" It would make you feel better if you knew he'd done this with someone else before. "Yes. My sister and your mother." Well, if your mother had done it, then dragon riding was not too bad. Right? After a tiring climb you reached the top of Vhaegar. Already you were well off the ground. Aemond who had been right behind you adjusted a harness around your waist. With one call Vhaegar was in the sky.

It was the most terrifying and terrific sensation of your life. High in the clouds you had never been so close to death. Never before had you witnessed such a view. Above Westeros you flew. "This is what it must feel like to be a god." You thought. Eventually Aemond decided it was time to land. And waiting in the courtyard was Alys.

Oh shit.

-Your mother began to show signs of illness one morning. At first you were unworried. But time when on and still your mother was ill. You tried to help, providing drafts and good foods. Still, your mothers condition stayed, neither worse or better. Finally, your mother one day came with a surprise. She was expecting a child.

"Probably an upset stomach." You thought. As the days passed by however, you began to worry. Not only was your mother nauseous, but unnaturally exhausted and complained of pains and aches. Finally Alys brought out her box and asked you to wait outside. Nervously you paced outside the door. After a few minutes, which felt like an hour, Alys let you back in. Instead of grief or worry a jubilant smile adorned her face. When you asked if she was well your mother pulled you into a hug. "Oh Y/n it is the best new. I am excepting!"

-You were excited for another sibling. Over the months you had warmed to Aemond (somewhat), so having him as the father was not so bad. Everyone had to leave Harrenhal and a cottage became home. You helped assemble a nursery and look after your mother. So busy were you that the war seemed a distant conflict. There was peace for a time. Unfortunately reality came crashing down in the form of Daemon Targaryen. Heavily pregnant, your mother said it was time to go. All three of you were forced on Vhaegar to meet Aemond. When you landed there he was, the Rouge Prince and his dragon. He helped you and Alys off. "She see's much and more, my Alys." With a kiss for Alys and a pat on the head for you, he was off. The two dragons circled one another. Your mother grabbed your hand and ordered you to follow, Into the forest both of you went. When you asked what was happening Alys told you to be quiet. Into the woods both of you went, the witch of Harrenhal and the little sprite.

Everything was deadly quiet. Your mother huffed and puffed ahead, the baby behind a strain. Frequently you looked back and above. In a rather short period of time the two of you were well away from Aemond. Suddenly with an almighty thud something hit the ground. Like an enormous hammer was slammed into the earth. The both of you nearly fell over. It was only because your mother had a hard grip that you managed to fall down. For a few moments the two of you stood there. A feeling heavier than an anvil settled on your soul. For a moment you were no longer there, but above looking down on a scene of carnage. Two dragons lay in the river, shattered ground beneath. Then suddenly you were underwater. Vhaegar's harness was still attached to its dragon, and rider. The sapphire glinted in his socket. Coming back, you were on the ground. Your mother's terrified face was all you could see.

"Mother, he's dead."

#alys rivers #alys #hotd #alys x aemond #alys x reader #alys rivers x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond #house of the dragon imagine #hotd x reader

[tinfairies]

I saw that your headcanons are open again and would like to ask for some Aemond/Alys throuple 🔥 hcs

Thanks already

Of course both Aemond and Alys had their heart set on their partner, but Alys was the one to initiate it

Drawing her lover in and seducing them, only to pass them onto Aemond for even more attention.

The passion the two have for their partner is undeniable. They pamper their lover and protect them from the world.

They don't go anywhere alone, Alys or Aemond is always with them. People avoid the trio like the plague, scared to anger the dark figures looming around their beloved.

The sex is emaculate. Aemond is a firm and rough lover, and Alys is a soft and sweet lover.

The perfect combination to have their beloved crying and begging, the two will absolutely ruin their lover.

Of course the aftercare is just as good. Their beloved will have everything they need, and then be cuddled between Alys and Aemond.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon imagine #hotd headcanon #hotd imagines #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #alys rivers #Alys rivers x reader #Headcanons #Smut #Fluff

[tallemajas-scriptorium]

I’m writing an Aemond x Brune!reader x Floris now I’m thinking of Aemond Targaryen x reader x Floris Baratheon x Alys Rivers and how that would work. 🫠

Dude think about it fr

Aemond would have his bear queen reader, his stag queen Floris and his witch queen Alys

My Sappho is showing lemme tuck that back in.

@chompchompluke am I weird?

👁️👄👁️

#asoiaf #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd #ewan nation #ewanverse #alys rivers #floris baratheon #floris baratheon x reader #alys rivers x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x reader

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Better Than Revenge // Alys rivers x Fem!Reader, MODERN AU. [ONE SHOT]

Summary: Your boyfriend Aemond cheats on you with Alys rivers, so you do the same.

warnings: nsfw content ahead! MDNI: age gap, mommy kink, tiddy sucking, cunnilingus, fingering, angst(?), fluff, wlw, cheating, aemond is a cunt. + not proofread!!

Enraged is not enough to describe the feeling you felt when your friend sent you pictures of aemond with his assistance, who he told you not to worry about, alys rivers.

He said he was supposed to be at a meeting tonight, but he was in a bar, spending time with her, and the next picture your friend sent made you see red.

He was kissing her.

You quickly texted your friend back, thanking them and planned on what to do.

You had realised, that when Aemond introduced you to alys, he had not mentioned that you were his girlfriend, just that you were close, you should've heard the alarm bells ringing back then but you ignored them.

You barely knew alys, and she barely knew you, it made you mad that it was possible that Aemond was two timing with both you and her. And then a plan came to your head, you smirked to yourself.

You had decided to act as you knew nothing, getting alys' number from his phone when he left to shower, and texting her.

‘Hi! This is Aemomd's friend, Y/N! I realised we both know aemond but not each other, I would love to get close to you! :)’

And from then onwards, things started to change.

You both had met up on occasions, hanging out from time to time, all unknown to Aemond, Alys was an older woman, likely in her 30s, she had more experience at things and was gentle and soft spoken, it only confirmed your suspicion that she did not know you and aemond were in a relationship, likely he never told her, considering she isn't hostile towards you.

She was very intelligent too, but you were confused as to how Aemond was able to fool her, you had guessed so when you directly asked her if she was dating Aemond and to your surprise, she looked away with a sad smile on her face, “No, not really, this is more of a situationship, he said he is not ready to commit yet.”

And that's when any remaining doubts of her getting in between you and aemond purposefully flew out of the window, considering she wouldn't be saying all that if she knew.

You held her hand, comforting her, gently.

God Aemond was a fucking douchebag.

You froze up when Aemond asked you where you have been going to lately, considering you hardly have any time for him anymore.

“Oh, nothing, I am just hanging out more with a friend, sorry i made you feel lonely.” you cradled his face and pulled it your chest, embracing him, feeling disgusted with yourself for continuing to do this, but you had to, your plan is halfway finished now.

He hummed before his hands travelled to the end of your tank up and pulled it upward, revealing your breasts to him, his head came forward to take your nipple into his mouth, you felt like throwing up so you pushed his head away and he furrowed his eyebrows at that, “Sorry, I'm not in the mood today.” you try to convince him, pulling down your tank top and he nods.

He said he got an urgent call and left your house, you scoffed, knowing he went to alys to get his dick wet, you fumed at the thought, until a few minutes later you received a text from alys herself.

‘Can we meet up tomorrow?’ and you felt your heart race, you thought she had found out before you would tell her everything but you replied a yes and the next message made you sigh out of relief.

‘That's splendid, let's meet at the same cafe! ♡’

You smiled to yourself at the text.

Aemond returned barely an hour later, irritated for an odd reason, something must've happened, so you asked what happened and he simply ignored you, grumbled and fell next to you on the bed.

He didn't get his dick wet.

You went up and met alys and she immediately hugged you when she spotted you, and you sat down at your usual table, you noticed that she was more quieter than usual, and sadder.

“Aemond came over yesterday.” she said, you let out a unsurprised oh, she sighed heavily. “Listen, I know you are his friend but, he is a fucking prick. I wanted to talk to him about what to label our relationship but he simply ignored me and tried to get in my pants, so I fucking slapped him.” she said, anger flowing out of her words, you felt delighted.

“He deserves it.” you say and she looks at you, and takes your hand in hers, “Are-” she swallows, “Are you into woman?” she asks nervously and you nod, “I am yes, why?” and you swear you saw her face light up immediately before she concealed it.

“Nothing, just asking.” she soothes your hands, “I- I got this matching rings for us..” she showed you them and you felt your heart flutters when she shows you what she got, “It's beautiful!” you exclaim, feeling happy and but guilty when she gives you a smile.

And that's when you decided to come clean to her. About everything.

She was shocked at first, but then she was angry and you felt your heart break, knowing your friendship would come to an end, but to your surprise, she didn't end your friendship.

“I suspected that he was sleeping with you too, but I didn't realize he was actually dating you. I'm sorry.” she apologized and you shook your head “No no, it's fine, you didn't know— which is why I wanted to- talk to you but, I found myself enjoying your company more and more and I couldn't find the heart to tell you.” you said shyly.

It was true. Your original plan was to befriend her and tell her and then break up with Aemond, he would've surely gone to her for comfort and she would've also ended the situationship with him, hurting him twice.

She chuckles at your shyness, before giving you smile, “Thank you.” she says making you confused, “Thank you for being honest with me– you had every right to hate me but you decided to find the sides of the story first, and I'm sorry, I did not know he was a man like that.” she comes over and sits next to you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

Your eyes flicker to her lips and she looks at you for a moment before she leans in, you both kiss, it was a gentle one.

She pulls away and you blush, hiding your face in her shoulder, feeling embarrassed, luckily no one witnessed the kiss.

She had invited you to her home and you went gladly, you sat on the couch nervously, the tension between the both of you rising, she fetches you a class of water and you drink it, she plops down next to you on the couch.

You both had planned to watch a movie and she put on a mediocre TV show that was neither good nor bad, you felt her place her hand on your thigh, drawing circles on it, you tried not to let it bother you, but it travelled further near you core.

You involuntary clenched your thights shut when her hand grazed over your clothed cunt, you were wearing a short skirt. She turns her gaze over to you and you breathe heavily.

She pushes you back against the couch before getting on of top you, bending down to kiss you as her hands travelled up your shirt and pulled it upwards, groping your tits in both her hands, giving them a tight squeeze before playing with the nipple.

She broke away the kiss and trailed kises downwarda towards your breasts before she took one of your breasts in her mouth, you whined when you felt her teeth nip at your stiffened peak, you cradled her head against your tit, hands in her dark locks of hair as she stared at you with her emeralf green eyes.

She let goes of your breast with a pop before moving down, discarding you of all your clothes until you were completely bare, she did the same, ridding herself of her clothes before she went further down.

She placed wet kisses on your thighs before she dived in your dripping cunt, her tongue licking in long strides, sucking on your clit, your hands gripped her head, pushing her head to be as close as possible, you grinded your hips against her face.

She moaned against you, vibrations shot up your body, she dragged her tongue up and down before taking in your clit in her mouth once again as her hands parted your thighs even further.

You felt a building up tension in your core as she continued her ministations, your nipples hard from arousal, she pulled away before spitting on your cunt and devouring you again, it was filthy, but oh gods it was so good.

You moaned her name out loud when you felt the coil in your core snap, body trembling as the orgasm hit you in waves, she pulled away before switching positions.

She lined her cunt up against yours, your leg thrown over her shoulded before she rutted against your cunt, your clits rubbing against one another, you moaned from the overstimulation.

She fastened her pace, nearing her orgasm as well before she came too, moaning your name loudly, her head dipped down you take your nipple in her mouth, she suckled on it.

You got bold and switched positions, being on top of her, you trailed kisses down her pale and milky skin, to her breasts before you suckled on it, closing your eyes in content, your hand travelled to her dripping folds.

You rubbed her clit before dipping two long fingers into her awaiting cunt, she whined when you shoved your fingers inside of her, you slowly started thrusting them in and out, leaving her tits with a pop to look down as her cunt engulfs your fingers, you groan at sight.

“M-mommy look at you.” those words escaped your mouth before you can stop them, you felt embarassed but alys didn't say anything, she just smirk before caressing your face, “Does my babygirl enjoy when her mommy is pleased?” she asks and you nod eagerly. Hands speeding up, she throws her head back.

“F-fuck I'm so close baby- keep going like for mommy yeah?” she pants and you obey her, she let's out a lewd moan when she cums all over your hands, you pull your fingers out before looking at her, she looks at you through narrowed eyes and you put those fingers in your mouth sucking on her juices, she gives you a content smirk at that.

She presses her lips to you and you both end up in a late make out session, her hands rubbing up and down your sides, your naked bodies entangled, “Gods, you're so beautiful.” she murmers, making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“what the fuck.” your head snaps to the voice and you're shocked, it was Aemond, who was looking at you both wide eyed, shocked at your state.

Alys forgot to lock the door.

You and Alys look at each other before staring at him intensely, alys helps you dress up and she dresses up too, Aemond waits there awkwardly.

“Uh- I'm sorry.” is the first thing he says, likely understanding that you both had figured out about his antics, alys sits there, arms crossed and she gives you a nod.

You go up to Aemond, he looks at you, expecting you to forgive him, but you punch him in the face. He's shocked and falls back, “We're over.” you spit venomously.

“So are we, if we were ever a thing.” Alys speaks up, before making her way over to you and pushes Aemond out before slamming the door in his face and locking it.

She turns to you and you both burst out laughing.

And soon enough, you and her began dating.

You both move out of your old places and move into a new apartment, blocking Aemond and changing your numbers so he stops pestering you guys, he still has your insta and he sends various dms to you through multiple accounts but you just block them, and soon enough, they stop.

Alys told you about her passion for witchcraft, how she casts protection spells, and how much firmly she believes in it, you listen to her talk about it with a smile on your face, and she does the same when you talk about the things you are passionate about.

#alys rivers #alys rivers smut #alys rivers x reader #alys rivers x reader smut #alys hotd #alys rivers hotd #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd smut #hotd x reader #x reader #x reader smut

[huramuna]

beware the sapphire peak - chapter 2.

aemond targaryen x wife reader x alys rivers a period piece, set in 1902.

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wordcount: 4.8k

you're a young, american lady who is an aspiring author. you are wooed by a mysterious and charming savant from england. swept off your feet, you're whisked away to his family's ancient estate, Dragonstone Hall. but with all stories, secrets are hiding around every corner, and your suitor is no different. a crimson peak inspired mini series.

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! i don't do taglists right now, so sorry!

content: smut (specifics below cut), angst, gaslighting, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, alys in her girlboss gatekeep gaslight era, no use of y/n, afab reader, pre-established alysmond, this isn't going where you think it is(it might be), infidelity-ish, polyamory, mentions of infertility, murder, depictions of murder/violence

once upon a december - invadable harmony • reflections - toshifumi hinata

warnings: oral (f receiving), p in v, creampie, inappropriate use of high valyrian

As you passed through the threshold of the building, you looked upon the tapestries that lined the walls– they seemed to tell a story, a story of dragons, war, betrayal and succession. The woven tapestries were over eight feet tall, hanging from old iron nails that pinned them to the stone bulwark. Beyond those, were the beginnings of many, many portraits of Targaryens long passed. They were all otherworldly looking, your eyes glazing over at their perfectly captured features. 

Aemond’s gentle squeeze to your hand brought you back to reality, following the line of your gaze to the portraits. “Some people have said that Targaryens are closer to Gods than people,” he smirked, chuckling softly. “When we rode dragons and conquered land and sky, perhaps. But not now– we are merely mortals once again.”

“Ah, and here I thought I married an immortal being, what a pity.” you jested, your tongue poking in your cheek. 

“A pity indeed– luckily I snagged myself a Goddess, hm?” he whispered lowly, craning his head to nose at your jawline, planting little kisses upon your soft skin. He was so close to you, his scent all consuming in your nostrils as you drank in the feather light touch of his lips upon you. You were surprised that you’d made it into the building without the both of you making love on the floor like rutting animals, truly. 

The sound of heels clicking pulled you both from your stupor. As you turned around, you looked upon the woman that was in the window, the real one, atleast. She was tall, a few inches shorter than Aemond, but she still towered over you– they both did– her hair was pinned in a neat half-do, the slightly wavy tresses in a gorgeous, deep brown color, like freshly brewed coffee. Her eyes, a lively emerald green, blinked slowly as she looked you up and down, assessing you. She seemed to be more mature than you and Aemond, likely by fifteen or so years. The only indication of her age were the soft gleam of one or two errant gray hairs and the lines of her face, laugh lines, crow’s feet alike, were illuminated under the flickering light in the foyer. She wore a deep green dress, a similar shade to her eyes. “Lord Targaryen, Lady Targaryen,” she greeted, her voice deep and silky– it reminded you of the timbre of a wonderful cello you’d heard in an orchestra in New York City, instantly sending your heart aflutter. 

“My love, this is Alys Rivers. She is the estate’s governess,” Aemond introduced, one eye lingering upon Alys before returning to you. “She’s been with us for many years and is more than happy to help you get acquainted with the ins-and-outs of the Keep.” 

You suddenly remembered your manners, hand extended out to her. “Miss Rivers, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you smiled, your hand enveloped by hers. It was a bit cold, but warmed up quickly within your own. 

“And you, my lady. I’m sure we will become fast friends.” Alys responded coolly, her mouth perking into a similar grin, her thumb lingering over the back of your hand for a bit longer than necessary as she squeezed it lightly before letting go

Certainly you didn’t imagine that? 

“It is good to see you again, Alys. I hope to not be away from the estate for so long again,” Aemond hummed, watching as you and the governess’ hands lingered with one another, then turning back to face you. “Shall we get settled in, my dear?” he asked. You knew exactly what he meant by settling in– and it would be the opposite of what you would be doing.

“It is good to have you back, Lord Targaryen. Let us hope you won’t need to leave again any time soon.” Alys gave a wry smile, regarding you both before curtsying and flittering away. 

Aemond led you up the stairs, up to the third floor, where the master bedroom lay. The hallways narrowed as you traversed the home, with Aemond pointing out a few of the key points of the estate to you on the way. Then, he stopped at a gilded pair of double doors, the handles were beautifully complex dragons carved from a deep brown and red cedar, their eyes fashioned from jewels. It was the height of opulence– edging on gaudiness for your taste, but you married into practical royalty, so you couldn’t complain.

Opening them, it revealed a large room decorated in black and green, with the occasional splash of red and gold. The walls were lined with towering bookshelves, cornered by a soft reading nook with two plush chairs. The bed was spacious, twice the size of the bed you had at home, which was a king size– you didn’t even know what to classify this size as. Monarch size? Dragon size? It was huge, that was all you knew, furnished in a soft red velvet sheet set. 

You walked to the bed, fingers glazing over the silken soft sheets. “This is… the softest thing I’ve ever felt in my life, my God.” you murmured, beginning to unbutton your outer coat and shed your layers. You wished to feel the plush silk on your bare skin.

“I hope it’s to your liking, love.” Aemond came up behind you, helping you shed your unsightly amount of layers until you were in your silken shift and undergarments. His hand began to wander, bunching up the fabric of your shift and pulling it upward, until he could rest his hand on your bare stomach.

The sensation of his warm hand on your stomach made you flutter slightly, pressing back against him. “Yes, I’d say it’s quite to my liking– though, I suppose we shall put it to the test, won’t we?” you teased, your arm coming up to caress his cheek.

As your hand touched his face, his hand rose up higher and higher, exploring further. His hand found solace atop your corseted brassiere, the tiniest growls of frustration escaping from his lips. His free hand began working double time to undo the series of laces. “You won’t be needing to wear these anymore, my love,” he grumbled, biting softly on your earlobe as he continued his race to undress you. “In fact, I’d like it if you didn’t wear anything at all.”

You giggled, shimmying out of the brassiere, to which he threw aside. “I’m sure that Miss Rivers would find that garish and uncouth, Aemond. I can come to a compromise, though,” you purred, switching around to where you were sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling him towards you by the hem of his shirt.

“A compromise,” he repeated, “And what sort of compromise would that be?” Aemond asked, kneeling down in front of you now.

“Perhaps I may not wear any undergarments at all under my clothes,” you whispered, craning your neck downward as you tilted his chin upward. “For easier access.”

The sound that came from Aemond could only be categorized as animalistic and primal, his lips melding with yours in a rising fervor. It was a clash of teeth and tongue, his hand pawing at your now freed breast, thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple– eliciting a surprised gasp from you. You’d never been touched in such a way and the little spark of pain that went through you mingled with your pleasure. You liked it, conveying this to your husband by increasing the fever pitch of your kisses, mouth parted as your tongues danced together in the most lascivious of ways, as if you were trying to eat one another alive. 

“What did I do,” he breathed between your assaults on each other’s mouths. “To deserve such a beautiful wife, hm?” his hand had become permanently rested on your breast, rubbing your stiffened nipple like he was trying to elicit every moan possible from you from just this alone. “A beautiful wife who makes all of the most beautiful little noises?” 

You were rendered speechless, your response coming out only as a whine as he pushed you back on the bed, pulling your underwear down. He made a noise of satisfaction at what he saw, seemingly pleased with how you looked, his hand grazing through your wisps of pubic hair before parting your soaked folds. You stared down at him beneath half-lidded eyes, your body heat emanating from you like a furnace, the heights of your cheeks red with pleasure. 

Aemond was continually spurred on by your state of being, like you were clay within his hands, and he was the sculptor. He nudged your legs open more, his fingers spreading you open. You whimpered as the cold air hit your core, but it was immediately replaced by a warm heat– his breath fanning over you. 

“Please,” was all that could come out of your mouth as you looked at him. 

His pupil was blown wide, the blue usually there eclipsed by black as he dragged his tongue over your folds, testing your taste. Humming in contentment with the taste, he went back in for another, lapping over your wet sex, the cleft of his nose rubbing against your clit. You fought the urge to close your legs out of instinct, feeling a warm sensation barrelling toward you as if you needed to relieve yourself. Your eyes were more open now in a slight panic at the feeling, but Aemond just grinned, keeping up his pace and even quickening it.

You grasped at his hair, the white-blonde strands fisted in your hand as you moaned broken strings of his name as your first orgasm washed over you, and in turn, him. You felt a rush of wetness come from your body, which was now glistening upon Aemond’s maw, his mouth still twisted into a smile, like he had just had the greatest meal of his life. He came up between your legs again, unbuckling his belt and discarding his trousers and undergarments without much ceremony– you both didn’t have time for it now, especially when you could see the weeping need coming from him, dripping at the tip of his cock. 

His lips found yours again, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. You didn’t consider yourself a sexual woman really, but God, if this wasn’t the epitome of eroticism– you wanted this moment seared into your brain like a brand. 

“I’ll go slow, love,” he breathed, lips barely parted from yours. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

You nodded in affirmation, not capable of forming words at the moment. You hope you'll become more adept at dirty talk, just seeing how one ‘Please’ spurred your husband into action like a horse at a derby. You felt the head of his cock swipe against your soaked core, then slowly easing in. The stretch alone, the flame of pain that was just there, right on the precipice, ignited that familiar feeling within you once more. It was goddamn delicious, the feeling of being full, full of your husband– the thought made your eyes roll back in your head for a moment as he buried himself to the hilt.

The cherry on top, however, was when you finally got a glimpse of Aemond’s face– both of his eyes were closed, mouth slightly agape, hair strewn mess. He was concentrating so intensely on not bursting inside of you within seconds, as your tightness squeezed him like a vice. “Fuck,” he grunted, his use of foul language sending shocks of pleasure throughout your extremities. “You’re so tight– Christ above.” Aemond began to move then, thrusting back and forth, just to focus his mind on the motions and not to bust a moment in. He murmured praises in your ear, some in English and some in another language you didn’t understand, but it was primal and ancient, you could tell just by how he sounded out the words, and it was no doubt something dirty and more than likely downright feral. “Issa gevie ābrazȳrys, sīr ȳrda, sīr vok. Ry ñuhon, ry ñuhon.” My beautiful wife, so tight, so perfect. All mine, all mine.

Judging by how he pounded into you, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the room, coupled with your cacophony of whines and moans, he was close, chasing his high. His pace hastened and your legs fastened around his midsection to keep him as close as possible– a reaction your body made on its own, seemingly. 

A sequence of unintelligible curses and erotic sweet-nothings came from his mouth as he gave one final push– a low, reverberating grunt coming from the depths of his chest as he stilled, spending inside of you. His lips smeared against your neck, nothing coming from his mouth but hefty pants.

You both caught your breaths and he softened inside of you, then cleaned you both up after– you would’ve helped as well, but your legs were jelly, and simply refused to pick you up from the bed. Aemond was more than happy to pick you up and tuck you under the covers, holding you close to him, as if you might fly away during the night. 

You dreamed of dark hallways and pale visages looking upon you– you woke up several times during the night, seeing pairs of eyes staring at you, pity in their ghastly gaze. You would fall back asleep and think nothing of it.

–

“Looking at something, dearest?” Aemond hummed, his thumb parting another page further into the book he was reading, the room illuminated in candlelight. It had been a whole fortnight since you moved into the estate– you had been able to sit down and write even more, and Aemond had helped you send off your manuscript to a reputable publisher in London, who was a family friend of the Targaryens. You began your second novel, which was inspired by Dragonstone Hall and the odd dreams you’d had as of late, laden with peering eyes and ghostly figures.

You were perched on the window seat, the silk of your nightgown clinging to you like a second skin. Moving forward, you looked down upon the courtyard and beyond, seeing the moonlit horizon painting the sea, waves ebbing and flowing like beautiful clockwork. Glancing over your shoulder to your husband, his usual harsh features softened by the gentle flicker of the bee’s wax candles. A smile crept on your lips, which in turn, caused his own to upturn into a returning grin. “Just enjoying the view of the sea.”

“‘Tis dark, my love,” he closed the book, setting it aside. “Are you an owl and I did not know it? Seeing in the dark?” he got up from his position on the bed, making his way to you.

“Perhaps I am an owl,” you giggled, “But the moon and sky are especially clear tonight– a perfect view.”

He perched his chin upon your shoulder, looking out of the window with you. “A clear sky. That must be a good omen, hm? Alys has told me that it was storming constantly while I was gone.”

“A good omen indeed,” you purred, nuzzling your nose into his neck. Out of the corner of your eye, looking down into the courtyard, you could’ve sworn you saw two men, ghastly white, walking upon the green. But when you turned your head to get another look, Aemond enveloped your lips into a kiss, pulling you back towards him, and back towards your bed. You didn’t get another glimpse at the courtyard until it was cloudy and dark once again.

No one was there.

–

“Oh, hello, Miss Rivers,” you murmur softly, your voice still hoarse with sleep. You brush a few errant curls away from your face as you go to pour yourself a cup of tea, bare feet padding upon the tiled kitchen floor. “Good morning.”

“Just Alys is fine, dear,” she smiles, her emerald eyes shining clearly– she must’ve already been wide awake for a few hours. “Please, let me.” Alys sits up from her chair, moving near you and pouring water from the kettle into your cup before you could even grab it.

You glance up at her– she was much taller than you, like Aemond– a feeling of embarrassment coming over you. “Oh– thank you,” you manage to muster, “But it… it isn’t necessary, Mis– Alys.”

The older woman looks at you with an expression of curiosity, you had said something truly novel. “Ah. You aren’t like the others, then. Good.” she smiled, the sides of her mouth crinkling. Something about it made your heart skip a beat– what was going on?

“The others?” you asked, stirring your cup which was now steeping with a fruity, floral tea bag. You scooped a heap of sticky honey from a reserve of it on the counter, preferring your tea extra sweet. 

Alys watched as you stirred in the thick substance, before lifting her eyes to you. “The other– former– denizens of the estate, my lady. Lord Targaryen’s other family. Excellent employers, but they always asked for me to do things beyond my job description. Pour tea, serve lunch, draw baths." She took a seat then at the small kitchen table, but not before grabbing the entire jar of honey, putting it in the middle. 

You took a seat across from her. “As a… governess, your job is to care for and educate children, correct?” you crossed one leg over the other, leaning back against the wooden backing of the chair, which was carved with intricate depictions of dragons and swords.

“Correct, my lady. Sometimes the estate was bereft of children, thus no one to care for or teach. Between you and I, sometimes the adults acted as overgrown children, demanding and grabby,” she spooned honey into her own cup, which was a dark, swirling liquid you couldn’t quite identify. “As it is now– but more so. You, Lord Targaryen, and I are the only denizens of the Keep.”

You coughed slightly as you heard her. The only ones? There were only three of you at this massive estate– and… what of the faces you saw when you arrived? The men you saw out in the courtyard just the eve before? You placed down your cup with a shaky hand. “P-pardon me,” you sputtered, hitting a hand upon your chest to try and catch your breath. “We are the only ones?” you looked at Alys with wide eyes.

“Yes, my dear. But this building is centuries upon centuries old, you know. Do you believe in ghosts, Lady Targaryen?”

You perked up at the notion, the part of your brain that loved the macabre and weird firing off on all cylinders. “Oh, yes! They interest me quite greatly.”

Alys gave a lopsided smile, her brows perked as if surprised by your reaction. “I didn’t expect such… an enthusiastic response, my lady. Most women are afraid of such ghastly notions.” she leaned forward, propping her chin on her open palm. “The estate is haunted, you know, by centuries of Targaryens past and then some.” 

“Oh, you must tell me their names and stories,” you leaned forward in turn, mimicking her interest in the conversation and then some, fully enraptured by the tales of tragedy, of love long lost, betrayal and beyond. 

The two of you ended up talking at the table for hours, until the sun was high in the sky to indicate noon– you only parted with her when Aemond had come into the kitchen to request your presence in the gardens. He was quite amused that you and Alys had melded together so quickly– he quoted you as ‘two barn owls, flitting feathers in the rafters and sharing stories over a juicy mouse’. 

It made you giggle.

–

From that day on, your days started and ended much the same. You would be excited, giddy, like a kid on Christmas morn, to go down and talk to Alys. You didn’t quite understand why you were so excited to be around her, why she enraptured you so– it felt good to entertain her and make her laugh, much in the same vein as you felt doing similar for Aemond.

You admired her, in a way, she was such a strong woman, yet unmarried and without children. But she cited that she didn’t need them, the husband at least. She had confessed to you that she had been married before, long ago in her youth. ‘Young, dumb and in love’, she had explained it– only to find out that she was unable to have children. Your heart clenched as she told her story, how she desperately wanted children of her own and went into governess work to have some semblance of it. 

In turn, you opened your heart to Alys, confiding about your mother and the struggles with losing her at such a young age. You cried and embraced her, to which she returned wholeheartedly– but she didn’t cry.

Your nights would come to a close within Aemond’s grasp, whether upon the bed, prostrated on his desk, or in the reading nook. ‘Twas a dreamy life for you.

You woke on a particularly dreary morning, over three months after your marriage, the downpour of sodden English weather clouding the skies and dampening the moods of everyone involved. Lightning struck, thunder rumbling the ground thoroughly and without mercy. When you stepped out of your bedroom, Aemond was still asleep– he had worked through the night on a massive proposal to the Lord of the next town over, working out some trade routes to have fresh fruit brought up to the estate in exchange for the homegrown honey.

Your bare feet padded on the wooden floors, they were cold and the air felt… thick and slightly electrified. It sent your head into a tizzy as you grabbed the metal knob of the washroom door, feeling a sparking jolt go through you. It shocked you! Rattled, but undeterred, you put your hand on the knob again and attempted to open it, only to be met with another tremor of electricity, stinging the palm of your hand. 

“Come on,” you groaned in frustration, practically crossing your legs by how badly you needed to relieve yourself. Electroshock therapy be damned, you wouldn’t be shut out of the privy any longer. You pressed your shoulder to the door, twisting the knob as it continually pestered you with numbing sparks, then gave the door a firm push– it gave away, opening and sending you sprawling to the floor at a high velocity. You landed on your knees, face inches away from the lip of the tub; you cringed as you imagined the sight of your face smashed to a jelly, bleeding out upon the floor. Small mercies. 

Pulling yourself up, you glanced over the bathtub, using it as leverage to get up. Upon looking into it, you saw something you never expected to– a woman, nude and red haired with translucent skin was curled in the bath in a fetal position, her throat slashed and bleeding red rivulets, blending into the small droplets of water that lined the tub. You were too surprised to scream, pushing yourself back from the tub and once again sprawling to the floor, mouth agape. 

You were going insane– surely…

Your heart was in your throat as you eased up, glancing back into the tub. The woman was gone, the porcelain lining of the tub clean as could be. 

Mayhaps Alys’ ghost stories had gotten to you, more than you thought? 

Turning around to finally use the privy, you were in awe that you didn’t piss yourself, you sat down on the toilet, your head in your hands as you emptied your overly full bladder. It was silent, save for the sound of the rain pattering against the stained glass window pane, the distant rumble of thunder and… heavy breathing. You stopped your own breaths– the sound consisted. It was right in front of you. 

With shaky hands slowly moving away from your eyes, you looked upon who was in front of you. It was the woman you saw in the bathtub– her neck still bleeding, her eyes wide and bloodshot, her face stained with tears and blood. Her chest rose and fell heavily with her ghastly breaths as she stared right at you. Her jaw was broken, mouth off kilter as it was agape with her labored puffs, teeth askew and rotted. You still felt like you weren’t breathing, your heart pattering like a hummingbird in your chest, about to explode.

“Who. Are. You.” she asked, voice far away and broken, like a whisper on the wind.

“L-Lady Targaryen,” you responded, your head pounding in sync with your heart– you felt like you were about to pass out.

The woman looked at you, her already wide eyes widening beyond the point they should even be able to, the sclera eclipsed in pure red, tinging on inky black ichor. Her hand, gaunt and bony, raised to you, her pointer finger pointing at you, inches away. “You,” she hissed. “You. Won’t leave this place. You. Will die. And stay here. Bones and all. Sinew and muscle, pulled from flesh.”

“W-who are you? How can I help you?” you whispered frantically, your entire body shaking. 

Her mouth twisted into a sickly smile. “You. Cannot help. For I– am you. Lady Targaryen. One. Of many.”

You blinked, eyes roving to think of something to respond– but when you looked up, she was gone. The air was normal and the storm outside had quelled. It was as if nothing had happened. You sat still on the toilet, eyes open until they started to burn. 

What just happened? Are you truly going mad?

You rushed downstairs after, almost tripping and falling at least twice along the way. You rushed to find Alys, who you hoped would quell your mind like the storm had been. 

“Alys,” you croaked, flying into the kitchen like a bat out of hell. “Alys, Alys,” you blubbered, you weren’t sure when you started crying. 

She was sitting at the table, up in an instant. “My dear, my dear, what’s happened? Are you alright?” she crooned, arms around you instantly. 

“I-I… please, promise you won’t think I’m mad–” 

“We are all mad in some ways, dearest. You can tell me anything.” she hummed, sitting you down on your chair and fixing your tea for you, bringing over the fresh honey, the comb still attached. 

“T-there was a woman,” you breathed, your finger slicing across your neck to indicate where her bleeding wound had been. “S-she… she… she said I’m going to die?” you took your tea with a shaky hand, sipping, but it didn’t help calm you. “I-I’m a horror author, I shouldn’t be scared of this sort of thing, Alys! What is wrong with me? I’m going mad.”

“Shh, shh, dove,” she instructed, pulling her chair around the table to sit close to you, arm still around you. “Just breathe– did you get enough sleep last night?”

“Y-yes– I.. I think so,” you murmured, hands still shaking.

Alys took your hand in hers, the other going to spoon some honey from the bowl. She roved small smoothing circles over the back of your palm. “You must get more rest, dearest. I’ll make you a tea tonight, it will help,” she whispered, her mouth close to your ear as she guided the spoon of honey, comb and all, towards your mouth. “Open.”

You had to chalk it up to the storm, the nightmare or whatever you could categorize your encounter with the ghostly woman as, but you recused yourself into Alys’ touch, eyes trained taut upon her as you opened your mouth. She spooned the honey onto your tongue, pulling the utensil away with a sticky trail of saliva and honey– to which she proceeded to lick off. 

Your head was swirling– you had admired Alys and thought her beautiful from the moment you saw her and you always liked women. You thought them soft and warm and could fill a certain void within you left by the death of your mother– but you had never… thought of a woman in a romantic light, surely? Your heart skipped a beat as you were so close to her, mouth parted. You could smell her light perfume, a lovely scent of vanilla and floral notes. 

The same feeling of elation that you felt when Aemond caressed you, kissed you, whispered sweet nothings to you was prominent in the pit of your stomach. You could count the speckles of light hazel in her emerald eyes from your close proximity. It was unsure who closed the gap first– but your lips melded to Alys’, tasting the sweet honey on her mouth, swiping your tongue across them to gather the syrupy nectar. Her hand caressed the back of your neck so tenderly as you pressed closer together, mouths parting to envelop each other’s tongues until the tastes of both of you were one in the same– saccharine, cloying, sticky sugar.

You had forgotten who you were or where you were, only enjoying the moment with Alys, when you heard the rumble of thunder off in the distance, it broke you from your union. Panic washed over you, your face going beet red. 

What had you done? 

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #beware the sapphire peak #alysmond #alys rivers #alys rivers x aemond #alys rivers x reader #alys rivers x reader x aemond targaryen

[themotherofhorses]

bewitched

pairing: alys rivers x fem!targaryen!reader, minor aemond targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

summary: she is many things— this witch, and observant is one of them. alys rivers can see the way your older brother stares at you, that mix of heavy lust and longing darkening the violet in his eye.

it is quite cute, she thinks. such a shame she's decided to claim you for herself.

warnings: explicit language. aemond acting like book!aemond in the beginning (violence and death). seduction. mention of canon-typical targcest between siblings. oral (f receiving) and fingering. tiddy sucking. slight breeding kink. alys straight up stealing aemond's bitch.

masterlist

Without any further thought, you had followed your older brother on his sixteen days’ march to Harrenhal, riding alongside him at the head of his army, some four thousand strong. Your mother had protested it a great deal, demanding you stay back and remain with her and your broken older sister.

But you were Aemond’s in the way Helaena’s was Aegon’s, and where he went, you followed.

And it was you, his sweet little sister, who did her best to calm him down when, twenty days later, word of the fall of King’s Landing finally reached him. At dinner, Aemond felt thrice the fool, you knew, and cried out curses at his uncle and the “river scrum” and Rhaenyra, over and over again. His fury was fearsome but never directed at you. He loved you too much. That night, you held him close, cradling his head against your breasts as the two of you slept.

The following morning, he began his onslaught.

Under the dawning sun, Aemond soon killed Ser Simon Strong in a duel, cutting the old man to pieces before feeding the corpse to Vhagar. Ser Simon was the great uncle to Larys Clubfoot, you then remember, grimacing at the blood puddling across the castle’s courtyard. Larys Strong. Harwin Strong. Lyonel Strong. Bits of his limbs were scattered about too, a horrible mess of muscle and skin and greyed hair. The sight made you sick to your tummy.

Bring me his grandsons! Aemond demanded soon after, freckles of dried blood staining his cheekbones and brow. And every man or boy with Strong blood in his veins. The Stranger does not discriminate in his wielding, and neither will I!

You watched in tears as one by one, your brother’s men dragged out both man and boy, some no older than your niece and nephew. Their screams broke out across the courtyard as their bodies stacked in a pile almost three feet high. Clutching Aemond’s sleeve, you begged and pleaded mercy for the children, and for the womenfolk huddled within the wards.

“See reason!” you cried. “They are innocent in all this, the babes especially! Do not let your anger deceive you, my dear brother!” But Aemond was unmoved by your words, to your utter dismay.

No trueborn Strong was spared nor any bastard, both adult and child. All except Alys Rivers.

You pled mercy for her as well, and Aemond surprised you by granting it. He gestured for two soldiers to shove her back inside Harrenhal, safe and alive, before asking if you were finally happy. Your lips curled at the bite in his tone, and the madden glare in his eye.

“This is unlike you,” you told him. “I do not like it.”

Aemond rolled his eye. “And I do not give a shit, sweet sister. If you wish to cast blame onto someone, let it be our eldest whore sister and her damn husband. Ser Simon was a traitor to the crown, and died a fitting traitor’s death.”

“But this was unnecessary, Aemond! You’re many things, yes, but cruel is not one of them.”

“Do you honestly believe that?”

“I know it!” you insisted.

Aemond sighed. His sword was back belted to his hip, hidden by the cloak he wore. “We’ve entered a war, sister. Fairness and humanity do not survive long on the battlefield. Do not expect much compassion during these times.”

You frown. Was Aemond always like this?

Suddenly you wish to be at home, tucked within the Keep’s stone walls, in your mother’s arms. Perhaps if you closed your eyes, you’d be back in the gardens, smelling the warm earthy smell of early springtime and feeling the cool wind play with your hair.

I want to go home now, you wanted to say when you reopened your eyes to find yourself still at Harrenhal. I don’t wanna be here anymore. Anywhere but here.

You did not know this man in front of you. Not anymore. He was no longer your older brother and protector, the man you would soon wed when the moon turned again, and the one you loved with your whole heart. Your eyes drifted back to the corpses stacked atop each other, bloodied legs and arms and messy heads strewn all over the redden dirt.

With nothing else left to say, you turned and left.

She is many— this witch, and observant is one of them. Alys Rivers could see the way your older brother stares at you, that mix of heavy lust and longing darkening the violet in his eye.

It is quite cute, she thought. Such a shame she’s decided to claim you for herself.

Alys felt no guilt at that. You had saved her life, although she hadn’t the slightest inkling as to why. Or, maybe she did, actually. She herself was older by many decades, raven-haired, and as tall as the Prince Aemond himself. Her breasts were still heavy with milk from all the highborn children she fed throughout the years. She was a wet nurse, a bastard woman.

There were so many pretty maids, all of your own years, at Harrenhal, and yet you never once entertained them as companions.

No, instead your pretty eyes remained on her.

As the evening sunlight streamed through the castle’s windows, Alys arrived at your bedchamber, guised as a servant. In her hands, she carried a tray of plated roasted deer, goat cheese, and nutty bread, still steaming from the furn. You’ve barred yourself shut in your room for the better part of the day, too upset with your brother’s carnage to venture beyond the walls. The hour had grown late, and you must be starving.

“My princess,” she greeted softly, bowing when you let her in. You stand by the window, gazing outside at the east gate, near the Tower of Ghosts- one of the five immense towers bent and lumped and cracked from the Balerion’s fire during the conquest. As dark and ruinous as it now stands, it was still hauntingly beautiful. “Might you be hungry?”

You sniffled. “My appetite has fled me, I’m afraid.”

“At least try, child.” Alys set the tray on the desk, before taking a step back to study her new prize.

Up close, you’re very much a Valyrian beauty, with hair as silvery as moonglow and deep purple eyes. There is a certain softness and sweetness to you that strikes her fancy, from the elegant way you hold your posture to how you trailed after your brother, the prince. Her eyes fall to your breasts, and she licks her lips.

“Thank you…um…” you paused shortly, unsure of her name.

“Alys Rivers.”

You nod, smiling. “Ah, yes, Alys. I remember now. Thank you for the food,” but then you shake your head, chuckling, “But I don’t think I can stomach any food after today….brutality. I feel sick just remembering such…”

Alys felt the same way as well, though she didn’t fault the little princess for such. It was all your damned brother anyways.

An awkward silence soon followed, and it left her wondering if both you and her had swallowed your tongues in that moment. She didn’t know what to say or do, so she cleared her throat and offered you the chalice of wine she brought too. “Here, sweet princess. A bit of wine to wash away these ill thoughts.”

“Thank you, Alys.” You took a sip, quickly relaxing your shoulders. Mmm, very nice. “I wish mercy on Ser Simon Strong, and his grandsons too, may the gods give them all rest.”

Ser Simon was her great uncle too, Alys thought with some sadness. “He was an old done man, my princess,” she said, lacing her thin fingers together. She wore two silver rings on each hand that sometimes she twisted when anxious. “I like to think he lived a good life before now. He died with bravery and a sword in his hand, the way many in House Strong dream of passing.” Or dreamt, I should say. I’m the only one left, next to Larys.

The two of you spoke for the rest of the hour, moving to sit comfortably on the settee at the foot of the bed. Alys Rivers was a complete joy to be around, and very beautiful. As she talked, you took some time to admire her. Her green eyes shone like bright emeralds, and her hair was long and dark as the midnight sky, falling thickly around her ample breasts. Maybe it was the wine tonight, or perhaps her voice, but you were struck with the sudden urge to kiss her plump, pink lips.

So you did.

You leaned forward, kissing her— softly at first, until she wrapped her arm around your waist to tug you closer. Nobody had ever kissed you before, not even Aemond, although during boyhood he made several attempts to steal a kiss. Her tongue found yours in a short dance before you broke away from her, a tad breathless now.

“Princess,” Alys whispered, hands falling down to your shoulders.

“Apologies!” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed. “I cannot believe I just did that—my sincerest apologies, Alys. I don’t know what overcame me, I—” your voice was muffed as you hid away from her gaze.

She just laughed. “Was that your first kiss?... Have you been deflowered, sweet princess?”

You shook your head.

“Really?” Her dark eyebrow lifted in surprise. “With the way your brother looks at you, in truth I would’ve thought his babes were already in your belly.” Prince Aemond hasn’t bedded you yet? Alys was astonished at that. A silver flower still blossoming prettily in the rosebush, ripe for plucking? A slow smile spread across her lips.

“Aemond—he hasn’t…we’re to be married when we return to King’s Landing, I believe.”

“Do you like him?”

“I do. He is a good brother, and he will be a fine husband, and father too!” You said in a quivering voice, trying to calm your breathing. “He loves me, I think, and I love him too.”

But Prince Aemond had made you afraid of him today, she could smell it on you, even if you would never admit it aloud. This was very good. She could use it to her advantage. “Ah, I see. Well, in that case, I wish you two a fruitful and blessed marriage. You’ll make a fine wife when the day finally arrives, little princess.”

That made you pause. “I don’t know…” you mumble, picking at the skin around your nailbed.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well…our elder brother, King Aegon, he took Aemond to a brothel on his thirteenth nameday. He likes to joke that our brother is well-educated in pleasing a woman. I worry that I’m not…I’m not up to his standard. Or that he may not desire me afterward.”

Alys drew back, shocked. Up to his standard? Non-desirable? Does she take him for an utter fool? For what man wouldn’t wish to bed a Targaryen princess like yourself?

She scoffed, leaning her face so close to yours that you could feel her warm breath against your lips. It sent goosebumps prickling up each arm. “Men always love a blushing maiden in their sheets. They may return to the whores in due time, but they’ll always welcome a maid in their bed, however inexperienced she might be.”

Your breath hitched at her words. Could she…maybe….? Your eyes fell back down to her heavy breasts. She was a wet nurse, after all, and confessed to being pregnant with several children of her own. Would that mean she is well experienced in pleasure…? You debated the thought in your head, weighing the consequences of asking such.

Is it really whoring if it is with another woman? It is not like I’m laying with another man….she would be a teacher, not a mistress. You closed your eyes, thinking of Aemond. And Aemond would never know. I’d never tell him.

“Will you show me?” you blurted. “Teach me, so that I might be somewhat educated in pleasure?” Maybe it would take your mind off of this morning too.

Mischief twinkled in Alys’s pretty green eyes. “If it pleases you, my princess.”

Alys is quick to lay you down on the bed before climbing over you, straddling your waist. “I can hear your heartbeat. Do not be scared, little love. Passion is a love song, and lovemaking is merely the dance that follows.” She then takes both your hands in hers, placing them on her breasts. "I am yours to do whatever you wish, my princess." Encouraged by the look she gives you, you rub her nipples with your thumbs, before leaning to take one in your hot mouth to suckle.

She moans, cradling your head closer to her chest. “Good girl,” she whispers, eyes shutting as you flick it back and forth with your tongue.

Your other hand squeezes her other breast, enjoying the way it feels between your fingers and the moans flooding from her lips. You want to ask her if you’re the first woman she’s ever been with and if this moment is as special to her as it is to you. But her tit is still in your mouth and steals all the words away.

After a few more minutes, she pulls your mouth away to kiss you, letting you taste a bit of her tongue. “Very good,” she murmurs against your lips, kissing you again and again. “Did you like my breasts, sweetling?”

“Mmmm,” and you tug at her bottom lip between your teeth. “I did a lot, Alys. They're so soft.”

She giggles before pushing you back down, your head sinking against the pillows. Her soft hand drifts across your belly, fingers skimming below the curve of your breasts down to your hipbones and waist. “You’re so beautiful,” she says aloud, her voice thick with awe. “I dreamt of Targaryens before, but you’re far lovelier than them all, little princess.”

Your brother has been blessed with your hand, she thinks, with a mix of both sincerity and bitterness. Men never deserve such tantalizing fruits. They are all the same in their words and actions. They never truly appreciate the gods’ given gifts.

Her green eyes remain on your naked belly, imagining a soft swell to it. You’d be such a lovely mother, she’s sure. She could never give you a baby, though, but maybe….her eyes look up to yours, noticing the faint glimmers of lust clouding the pretty violet hue. It is a mirror to your older brother, Prince Aemond.

Alys thinks and thinks, taking the time to fondle your smaller breasts.

Prince Aemond could plant the seed…and she could then tend to it.

Alys’s hand continues downward, finding the mound of fine silvery hair between your thighs, grinning when she feels how wet you are. “I wonder if your cunt is as sweet as your lips,” she wonders aloud, more to herself. You bite your lip, watching with large, doe-eyes. Alys moves herself between your thighs, her pretty face hovering over your soppy pussy.

“You are just so lovely, sweet princess.” She flashes you a quick smile while running a finger through your folds, gently easing you open. Above her, you tremble.

She then presses a soft kiss to your clit before sucking it into her mouth, tongue drawing small circles around it. “Ohhhhh,” you moan, face scrunching in blissful pleasure. Alys switches between sucking and lapping at your cunt, her eyes flickering up to watch the way you react to everything. There are tiny beads of sweat lining your browbone and temple, and your fingers are slowly turning white from the tight grip on the cream sheets.   

Scream. Allow me to hear those cries. Let the entirety of Harrenhal learn who’s claimed you tonight.

Your hips buckle up against her mouth as your head lolls to the side, breathless whimpers leaving your lips when she works two fingers inside your cunt, scissoring and pumping and stroking your sweet spot until all you can see are flashes of blinding white. “ALYS,” you shriek, bringing the sheet to your mouth to bite down as hard as you can to muffle the rest of your screams. “Oh, gods be good, Alys!”

You don’t wish for your beloved Aemond to hear you, nor anyone else.

Oh, but you taste so fucking good, Alys thinks, savoring your arousal on your tongue. She continues to eat you out, as well as fucking you with her fingers, partly dreaming of a wonderful new life where she wakes up every morning between your shaky thighs, breaking fast with every sweet orgasm she pulls from you.

My princess, mine own dragon.

Several seconds later, your legs twist around the older woman’s body, breasts heaving as your whole body shakes and shudders. Your pussy clenches tightly around Alys’s fingers, a sign that you’re close to cumming. “Cum for me, sweetling,” she coos, kissing the inside of your thigh- once, twice, thrice. She feels victorious in a way, a great pride simmering within her as she eyes the way your peak comes only closer and closer.

Prince Aemond One-Eye may have sacked her Harrenhal, but she sacked his baby sister, and made the little princess her own sweet whore.  

“Would you like for me to bring your dear brother next?” she asks.

You shake your head, panting through the moans and whimpers and gasps. “He—he won’t…take me—ah, until our wedding night—”

“I have a way of fixing that,” Alys says, leaning to lick a long strip up your pussy. She has many love potions and philtres to entice the prince, a collection that would surely inflame his deep passion and lust for his sister. Although, she thinks in amusement, it shouldn’t be that hard. He wants you as badly as she did, mayhap even more. “You’ll be heavy with his child soon, sweetling, his bastard’s fire blazing in your womb.”

“He won’t father a bastard. Aemond hates bastards.”

“He’d father anything if it comes from your loins, sweet one.”

You cry, flinging your head back as you come undone at her fingers and tongue. Alys drinks everything you give her, mouthing tiny spells against your cunt. One for fertility, the second for a blessed marriage, and the third for protection. Except it won’t be between you and the prince.

Alys Rivers always did prefer women to men.

taglist for "bewitched": @chainsawsangel @sweethoneyblossom1 @dahlias-and-marigolds @ilikeitbetterangsty @inlovewithhisblueeyes @the-cult-classic-bitch @666-aiko

taglist for everything aemond: @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @moonteas @chompchompluke

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond fanfiction #alys rivers x reader #alys rivers smut #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #alys rivers #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

[bitchyglitterfox]

Dead Girl Walking - Targaryen, Velaryon, Rivers x F!Reader Modern College AU

Warnings: Murder, dead dove possibly? non con kissing,

A/n: I made this in mind that Luke is 18 in this, there is nothing between him and reader ever he’s just there to move the plot along.

***********

“Come on Y/n, you'll have fun and get to make new friends!” Aegon asks a shy and timid Y/n. She's shifting back and forth on her feet.

“I-I don't know Aegon, I mean we barely know each other. Besides, I don't think you guys would really want me to hang around you.” she says while pulling her bag on her shoulder.

“Look, just come for 15 mins if you hate it i'll take you home myself and you can forget everything about me and the rest of the guys. Deal?” he asks with a smile that makes the girl thinks about it, reluctantly she decides to go with him to his car.

“Fine, just 15 mins then.”

“Perfect! Let's head to my car then.” he says while opening the classroom door.

*TIME SKIP*

“Guys I've brought a special guest with me to today's activities” Aegon says while walking up with a shy Y/n behind him. She eyes the guys, some of them she has in her classes while some she's seen around campus.

“Hi, I’m Y/n” she says while timidly waving to them.

“Well hello there, my name is Jace but you can just call me your boyfriend” Jace say coming up to her with a beer in hand. She could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Uh”

“Leave her alone cousin” a man much taller than Aegon came up to the girl next and began to drag Jace away. “My name is Aemond by the way”.

“Come on and meet the rest of our group, ” Aegon said, grabbing her hand hard.

“Hello, my name is Alys Rivers” said a girl Y/n thinks she’s seen around campus. She smiled back, her nerves calming down a bit. “We have biology together right?”

“Yes, I sit in the back next to the window,” she says, looking away.

“Here this will help you” Aegon says while holding out a beer for her.

“Thank you” she says while taking a sip of her drink, the liquid tasting bitter, she makes a face causing the two other boys to laugh a bit. She smiled again and took another, this time it went down easier. Soon the bottle is empty and she asks for another.

“Hi, i don't think i’ve introduced myself, my name is Helaena, i think we have dance class together?” a literal ball of sunshine sits next to her on her left side.

“Yeah! You are such a great dancer! The way you move is incredible!” She takes a big sip of beer. She looks up and sees a familiar face. The boy she's seen at the library late at night. She never thought she would see him here of all places, to her he seemed like someone who would pick studying over hanging out with friends. She thinks his name is Luke.

As time goes on, she gets drunker and more vulnerable.

“I’m going to be right back, I have to pee” she says as she gets up from sitting by the fire pit. She stumbles as she walks towards the woods making sure that she has privacy.

When she finishes she turns and sees Aegon, she's startled.

“Ah Aegon, what are you doing here”

“Well you were taking a long time so I came to check on you to make sure that you were ok.” he says with a gentle smile.

She smiles back.

“Alright well we should head back then”

“One question, do you like me Y/n?”

“Uh, what? What made you ask me that?” she said, stepping forward.

“Just answer the question.” he says

“Um, no, I hardly know any of you so I couldn't possibly say that I like you.” she says.

He presses his lips against her in a sloppy drunk kiss. She shoves him off.

“Aegon you're drunk! Fuck off!”

He doesn't like the feeling of rejection, he is the most popular guy at Westeros University after all and no one rejects him. Y/n begins to walk back toward the other group of guys when Aegon comes from behind her and strikes her in the back of the head. She falls to the ground lifeless. Seeing what he's done snaps him out of his drunken stupor, he runs back to his friends.

“You guys, I've done something horrible.” he says, sobbing into his hands.

“What did you do? Where's Y/n?” Aemond says getting up from his seat and running towards the way his brother had come from. Moments later he comes back with Y/n in his arms. He gently lays her down.

“What the fuck did you do Aegon!” Aemond says angrily.

“I-I kissed her and she pushed me away and I just picked up a rock and hit her.” he admits and the others look disgusted.

“Is she still breathing?” Helaena asks, looking in between her brothers and a girl she'd only met.

“Barely,” Aemond says, placing his ear near her mouth.

“Well, we have to do something. Luke, do you still have those ropes in your car and Jace do you still have the cinder block from when you worked at your fathers construction site?” Alys asks both boys who knod in response.

“What the hell are you going on Alya!” Aemond says looking panicked.

“She's as good as dead anyway, that head wound is serious. Besides, it's either she lives and tells the cops what Aegon did or we protect your brother.” She says while Luke and Jace come back with the supplies.

Jace goes over to Y/n and begins tying the cinder blocks around her ankles.

“Come on, we just drop her body in the lake and no one will find her because you yourself said she's a loner and has no one, not even a family. That is the reason you brought her here tonight.” Alys says while she and Helaena pick up Y/n’s body and carry it to a nearby bridge.

Just as they are about to drop her Y/n wakes up.

“What are you doing? Why am i tied up.” she says looking around and seeing she's in Alys and Heleama’s arms. “If this is about Aegon I promise not to tell anyone. Please don't do this to me!'' She turns to look at Aegon and Aemond for help but they look down in shame. Her face drops and tears begin to fall from her eyes. “Fuck you, Aegon Targaryen,” is the last thing to come from her mouth when shes dropped into the water.

“No one speaks of this ever. We all take this to our graves.” Aemond says while walking away.

*TIME SKIP 1 Year Later*

One year has passed since the incident as the group called it. Aegon still has nightmares about that night. The others are all dealing with it in their own ways. However, the fact that they killed an innocent girl eats at them a little each day.

Today is the first day of spring semester and they are in the back corner talking amongst themselves when a girl rushes into the classroom just as the bell rings.

“Welcome students to the first day of the spring semester.” The teacher says in the front of the class, “Before we begin, I would like to ask our new transfer student to introduce herself.”

The girl who rushed in at the last minute stands up and when she faces the class the group in the back lose all color in their faces.

“Good morning all, my name is Y/n and i am happy to be here. Thank you.” she says and returns to her seat.

The teacher began the lesson and the girl in front turns her head to face the 6 friends and smiles gently at them.

A few moments pass and Y/n gets up from her seat and walks toward the back where the pencil sharpener is but drops a note in front of the group before she does.

“You know when you're drowning you don't actually inhale until right before you black out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you wont open your mouth until you feel like your head’s exploding. You're all going to pay for what you did to me” - Y/n

#bitchyglitterfox writes #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #heleana targaryen #jacerys velaryon x reader #Luke velaryon x reader #Alys Rivers x reader #murder mystery

[weirwoodswitch]

Main Masterlist ♢ Read this fanfiction on AO3

Status: coming soon Pairing: Alys Rivers/Modern!AFAB!Reader Rating: Explicit/18+ General Warnings: dub-con: professor/student relationship, age gap relationship, manipulation, explicit sexual content, ghosts/hauntings, gore and violence, blood magic, cannibalism, minor and major character deaths Genre: Gothic Horror, Gothic Romance Literary inspirations: Carmilla (Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu), The Fall of the House of Usher (Edgar Allan Poe), The Name of the Rose (Umberto Eco) Travelling to Harrenhal to conduct academic research for her university course, a young female student soon discovers that the enigmatic Professor Rivers and her eccentric half-brother hide a dark secret — and may not be the sole inhabitants of their old mansion.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

#fire and blood #fire and blood fanfiction #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #alys rivers #alys rivers x reader #harren hoare #harren the black #house harroway #aegon the uncrowned #aemond targaryen #aemond one-eye #aemond the kinslayer #gargon qoherys #gargon the guest #daemon targaryen #the rogue prince #larys strong #alysanne blackwood #dalton greyjoy #dd:dne

[blueroses789]

The Greatest Love (Masterlist)

Based on Maleficent with reader taking the place of Aurora and Alys as Maleficent.

Pairings:

Alys x Reader (platonic) Aemond x daughter reader (platonic) Aemond x Alys

In the magical woods of Riverunn there once lived a young witch, her name was Alys. She was the benevolent protector of Riverunn and held much love in her heart for home and its people. Love had always been the thing that Alys was told was special. She heard the tales of lovers and wished one day that the same might happen to her.

Then everything unravels when she meets a boy named Aemond Targaryen.

Chapters:

1: The importance of love (coming soon!)

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #alys rivers #alys rivers x reader #aemond x daughter reader #alys rivers x aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #alys x reader #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones x reader

[undertheorangetree]

Will this be done quickly? Probably not but I need something to write after Under the God’s Eye and as a lover of women I need to involve one. Plz let me know which you’d rather read!!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #helaena targaryen #Helaena targaryen smut #helaena targaryen x reader #Alys rivers #Alys rivers smut #alys rivers x reader #hotd #aemond targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #house of the dragon