Aurelia Targaryen The Bastard Princess Pt.2

MAKE ME CHOOSE MEME | @lady-corrine asked - Hürrem & Suleyman or Kösem & Ahmed

just thinking about grumpy!aemond x sunshine niece!reader, that's all

Intimidating uncle who only smiles for his sweet niece?? How can I refuse? :> I hope u like it anon

Synopsis: Aemond’s icy demeanor softens as his playful niece, Y/n, brings joy and warmth into his life through her persistence and tender moments.

Aemond x Niece!Reader

The vast expanse of the Red Keep stretched before them, a labyrinthine structure of ancient stone and intricate tapestries of the Targaryens rich history. Within its cold, echoing halls, moved with his customary stoic grace, his singular eye perpetually narrowed, his demeanor perpetually grave. It was a disposition well-suited to his character, a shield against the tumultuous world he inhabited. Yet, like a glimmer of sunlight piercing through storm clouds, his niece, y/n, was a stark contrast to his brooding presence.

Y/n’s laughter echoed through the halls as she flitted about, a vision of radiance and mirth. Her wit was as sharp as Valyrian steel, and her spirit as unyielding as dragonfire. She was a beacon of joy in a court often shrouded in intrigue and gloom, and though many found solace in her presence, Aemond was not among them. Or so he would have others believe.

The gardens of the Red Keep were a sanctuary for y/n, a place where she could escape the stifling formality of court life. She found Aemond there one afternoon, standing by a marble fountain, his expression as inscrutable as ever. With a mischievous smile, she approached him.

“My dear uncle, why do you always seem to be plotting the downfall of the Seven Kingdoms?” she quipped, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Aemond’s eye flicked towards her, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I find little cause for humor, niece. Unlike you, I am not so easily distracted by frivolity.”

“Frivolity?” she repeated, her tone playful. “Surely, you do not think the pursuit of happiness to be frivolous, Uncle. It is the very essence of life!”

He huffed, turning his gaze back to the fountain. “Happiness is a fleeting illusion, y/n. It is duty and strength that endure.”

“Ah, but what is duty without joy? What is strength without laughter? A kingdom built on sorrow and scowling faces is a kingdom doomed to fall” she countered, her voice gentle yet firm.

Aemond’s expression softened ever so slightly, a fleeting hint of amusement in his eye. “You are relentless, aren’t you?”

“Relentless? Perhaps. Or simply persistent in my never ending quest to make you smile” she replied with a toothy grin. “I believe there is a smile hidden somewhere beneath that scowl.”

Aemond arched an eyebrow. “You overestimate your abilities, niece.”

“And you underestimate mine, uncle” she shot back, her tone light but her words carrying a subtle challenge.

Days turned into weeks, and y/n’s persistence in engaging Aemond in conversation did not wane. She would find him in the library, poring over ancient tomes, and offer her commentary on the latest court gossip. She would join him during his solitary walks along the battlements, teasing him about the weight of his thoughts.

One evening, as they dined with the royal family, y/n’s quick wit came to the fore once more. The courtiers were discussing a recent skirmish at the border, the atmosphere laden with a slight tension. Aemond’s expression was particularly dour, his mind clearly occupied with strategic considerations.

“Uncle Aemond” y/n began, her tone deceptively innocent, “do you believe the enemy quakes in fear of your legendary glare? Perhaps we should send a portrait of you to the battlefield. It might end the war without any bloodshed.

A ripple of laughter spread around the table, even King Viserys chuckling at her jest. Aemond’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile breaking through his stern facade.

“You have a dangerous tongue, y/n” he said quietly, though there was no malice in his voice.

“Only when it is necessary to cut through the gloom” she replied with a wink.

Despite himself, Aemond found his defenses weakening. There was something irresistible about y/n’s unwavering cheerfulness, her ability to find light in the darkest corners. She was not deterred by his gruffness, nor intimidated by his icy demeanor. Instead, she met him with a courage and joy that was both infuriating and captivating.

One evening, as the sun set over the Blackwater Bay, they found themselves alone on the roof. Y/n leaned against the balcony, her eyes reflecting the golden hues of the sunset.

“Do you ever tire of being so serious, Uncle?” she asked softly.

Aemond sighed, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “It is not a matter of choice, y/n. The burdens I bear are heavy, the responsibilities immense.”

“And yet, you bear them with such strength. But even the strongest warriors need respite” she said, turning to face him. “Allow yourself a moment of peace, Aemond. If not for your sake, then for mine.”

He looked at her then, truly looked at her, and saw the sincerity in her eyes. The walls he had built around his heart began to crack, ever so slightly. Perhaps there was wisdom in her words, a truth he had long ignored.

“Very well,” he conceded, a faint smile gracing his lips. “For your sake, I shall try.”

Y/n beamed, her joy infectious. “That is all I ask, dear Uncle.”

In that moment, he found a glimmer of happiness he had thought lost forever. As he leaned closer to her, their breaths mingling, he felt an unfamiliar but welcome warmth.

With a gentle tilt of his head, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them.

They drew back slightly, their foreheads touching, and Aemond could not suppress a soft chuckle.

“It appears you’ve managed to disarm me with a kiss” he said, his tone lighthearted.

Y/n’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she responded, “I had hoped that a kiss would be more effective than a sword. It seems I’ve found a more persuasive weapon.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow with a playful grin. “Am I to expect a steady stream of kisses to temper my seriousness?”

“Only if it ensures that you’re less somber” her smile teasing. “But fret not, I shall reserve my attacks for the most opportune moments.”

“Special occasions, then?” he inquired with mock seriousness. “I shall need to prepare for such events.”

Y/n’s laughter was light and musical. “Indeed, but for now, simply relish this one. It appears to be quite effective.”

Aemond shook his head, still smiling. “Your talent for lightening my mood is alarming. I may have to enlist you as my personal jester.”

“And here I thought I was merely your charming niece” she retorted in faux indignation, giving him a gentle nudge.

“Charming niece and occasional troublemaker” he corrected, “but I find I am quite content with both.”

Their shared laughter filled the space between them, making the day’s burdens seem lighter.

Valyrian Heritage | Yan!Mom Rhaenyra Targaryen, Yan!Dad Laenor Velaryon

— summary: Being the only legitimate child of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon is not an easy task and you have learned the truth the hard way.

❝warnings: is not compatible with canon, Reader is referred to as having classic Valyrian characteristics, mention of violence, insults to the Velaryon brothers, and yandere platonic relationships, messy writing.

❝ 🐉 lady l: I don't know if it was good and I apologize for that. This imagine focuses more on the drama and I would love to write a sequel if anyone wants! Good reading and drink plenty of water. Love you all.

❝word count: 1,877.

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen's screams could be heard throughout most of the Red Keep.

The princess had gone into labor over two hours ago and everyone was looking forward to the birth of Rhaenyra and Laenor's first child. Even though some had different motives and some were more selfish than others, anxiety could still be felt.

After what seemed like days of excruciating pain, a loud sound of crying was heard inside Rhaenyra's room.

''Shh...'' Rhaenyra whispered to the crying baby in her arms, trying to calm them down. She had no experience with this, however, this was her first child.

But she loved them. Oh, and how she loved them. Rhaenyra never thought she could love someone as much as she loved her child the first moment she held them in her arms.

She knew she would do anything for them.

Laenor entered the room at the exact moment the baby finally stopped crying and was about to fall asleep. Rhaenyra looked at him sternly and her husband was silent.

He approached silently and Rhaenyra handed him the baby.

''They are beautiful.'' Laenor whispered, moved. They looked exactly like their parents, the very definition of a valyrian. A few silver strands, its father's nose, its mother's skin, and beautiful dark purple eyes when they opened their eyes for the first time.

''They are.'' Rhaenyra confirmed, sitting down again. She was very tired and wanted to rest for a while.

''What's their name?'' Laenor murmured, looking fondly at the baby in his arms. So perfect, his child was so perfect.

Rhaenyra thought for a few minutes and then smiled, ''(Y/N) Targaryen.''

Laenor faced his wife and smiled in agreement, ''(Y/N) Velaryon.''

Rhaenyra smiled at her husband. Yes, Velaryon and Targaryen. It didn't really matter as this child was the product of both sides and she knew she would care for and protect them no matter what.

It was with these thoughts and the comfort in knowing that her child was being well looked after by the drooling father who cooed lovingly at the baby, that Rhaenyra finally allowed herself to fall asleep.

Later that day, Rhaenys and Corlys went to visit (Y/N). Laena could not be present, unfortunately, but she had sent a letter congratulating her brother and cousin on the birth of their child. Rhaenys had this letter with her when she entered the room with her husband.

Rhaenyra was holding her baby protectively and Laenor was glued to her side, arms crossed and staring at Alicent suspiciously.

Alicent had also entertained the idea of meeting her grandchild and Rhaenyra didn't seem willing to let her stepmother get her hands on her child.

''Let me see my grandchild!'' Corlys said excitedly and approached the protective mother. Rhaenyra looked at him for a few seconds, sighed and handed the baby to her father-in-law.

''They look like you, Laenor.'' Rhaenys commented after picking up her grandchild. Laenor smiled proudly.

In fact, (Y/N) looked like him even though they were so young. Laenor was sure that when they grow up they will be just like him. A powerful feeling took over Laenor's body. And he smiled even more at that.

Pride. He was completely proud.

Alicent approached Rhaenys, ''Let me see them.'' She said softly but firmly. Rhaenys hesitated a little, but let Alicent take her grandchild.

Rhaenyra was alarmed and Laenor placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her.

It's okay, Alicent would never dare do something with so many witnesses. Rhaenyra's shoulders relaxed a little but there was a tension present.

Alicent rocked the baby in her arms lovingly, smiling at them. They were beautiful, she thought. A pang of envy rose within the Queen. She wanted (Y/N) to be hers.

She blinked in surprise. That was it? But it was and Alicent knew it. Part of her knew that Rhaenyra wouldn't be a good mother to (Y/N) and she wanted to prevent future disappointments for them.

"They need to sleep." Rhaenyra said suddenly, standing up with her husband's help. Alicent looked at her skeptically and reluctantly handed (Y/N) over to Rhaenyra.

Rhaenys watched Alicent carefully and Corlys looked suspicious. The Queen was forced to retreat.

For now.

"I need to go see Aegon." Alicent stated to no one in particular, "But I will visit (Y/N) again with Viserys later."

Rhaenyra's only response was a slight nod, but she wasn't really paying attention.

Under the watchful eyes of the three Velaryon's present, Alicent left the room with hesitation and disgust.

As you grew, everything changed and it wasn't just your growth.

But family intrigues.

You had been the only legitimate child of the marriage of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon.

Everyone knew that Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey were bastards and sons of Harwin Strong. There was no denying it, not when you were Laenor's legitimate child, not when you looked exactly like him.

Not even Viserys had any arguments for that. And Alicent, Criston and Otto always made sure of reminding Rhaenyra about this.

Jacaerys' birth was a stab in the chest for Rhaenys and Corlys. And a triumph for Alicent.

You were only a year older than Jace, but you loved him deeply. It didn't matter that Jacaerys was different and this difference became even more visible after he grew up.

It didn't matter because you loved him. You loved Jace, you loved Luce, and you loved Joffrey. You loved all of your younger siblings and defended them fervently when their appearance was brought up. You constantly fought with Aegon and Aemond about it.

You got along well with Alicent and Viserys' children, your aunt and uncles. Mainly Helaena. You adored her, so sweet and so kind and she loved you fervently in return. It was very common for you to be together.

One day, you were in your room reading a book that Rhaenyra gave you and Aemond ran into your room. You dropped the book and got up in a hurry.

''What happened?'' Your voice was serious and Aemond blinked and pulled you into a hug, seeking comfort.

''They gave me a pig!''

You frowned, ''W-What?''

''Aegon, Jacaerys and Lucerys!'' Aemond held you tighter and every word that came out of his mouth was full of hatred. ''They said they were going to give me a dragon and they brought me a pig!''

Oh. You squeezed him back, trying to comfort your uncle.

''I'll talk to them.'' You stated and Aemond muttered a thank you under his breath, squeezing you as if his life depended on it.

When you scolded Aegon and your younger brothers, Aemond could be seen smiling creepily in the background.

You loved your entire family, your paternal and maternal grandparents, your parents, your uncles, your aunt, your brothers, all of them. And being a Velaryon and a Targaryen was amazing, but you felt trapped sometimes.

Trapped by your family.

You were often seen as the anchor of your family. What held them all together.

And you always agreed with that. Many of the fights that occurred you had to get involved in to separate both sides and as you grew up, you noticed it even more.

You realized that your family would never truly be reunited. And you found that out the hard way.

It was during the funeral of Laena Velaryon, your late aunt. You didn't spend much time with her but you felt sad. You stayed close to your grandparents and your father the whole time, trying to comfort them for the loss of their daughter and sister. They felt immensely grateful to have you there.

You have finally met your great-uncle, the infamous Daemon Targaryen. The Rogue Prince.

He was everything the stories said. You felt uncomfortable with his strange looks in your direction and clung even tighter to your father who noticed Daemon's looks.

Laenor looked at Daemon suspiciously and pulled you away. Neither you nor your father noticed Daemon's eyes darken.

You lay in your room, trying to fall asleep when you were called to Driftmark's main hall after an accident involving your uncles and brothers. It wasn't until you found out what happened to Aemond that you knew all was lost.

You gasped in horror when you saw Aemond's face. Mutilated and missing an eye.

You approached him, under the burning gazes of those present. Alicent was furious and Viserys did nothing.

Your heart skipped a beat when Alicent stole Viserys' dagger and stormed off to try and gouge out Lucerys's eye in revenge. Your mother got in front and she was cut off.

You watched in horror at the cut and the way the blood dripped onto the floor. Aemond hugged you tighter and said everything was fine for his mother. It had been a fair exchange, he had lost a eye but had gained a dragon.

You knew the eye story wouldn't end there and you had confirmation years later.

You were stroking your mother's hair while she was being stitched up by the maester. You agonized every time the needle penetrated her soft skin and did your best to try and ease her pain.

Rhaenyra appreciated your concern and kissed your cheek after scolding your brothers.

Laenor entered the room and you hugged him, ''My child... I'm glad everything is okay with you'' He whispered against your hair, squeezing you tightly.

''I'm fine, dad. Mom is the one who's hurt.'' You mumbled. Laenor hugged you for a few more minutes and let you go, he turned and looked at Rhaenyra.

''I'm sorry for what happened to you and our children.'' Laenor took a deep breath and took a chair next to her. You stayed silent watching your parents interact.

Rhaenyra shook her head, ''It's not your fault.''

''No, it's not but I can't help but feel guilty. I've been neglecting you and Jace and Luce and Joffrey. And I regret that.''

Rhaenyra reached out and touched his arm, ''It's not your fault.'' She repeated again, with more firmness in her voice.

''I hate that I'm not the husband you needed, the father our children need.'' He whispered, ''I hate the way the gods made me.''

Your heart sank and you went to your father's side, hugging him. He smiled weakly at your affection.

''I don't hate.'' You mumbled.

''Neither do I.'' Your mother stated, ''You are a good and honorable man. That's something rare.'' They smiled and you felt lighter on that tragic day.

''I'm going to change. I will become a better husband and father.'' Your father said and pulled you into his arms, you smiled and hugged him back. Rhaenyra got up from her chair and walked over to you. She wrapped her arms around you and hugged you too.

You stayed for a while hugging your parents, feeling grateful for the peace that dominated your heart for a few minutes.

Because you knew it wouldn't last. Not when the next day a tragedy involved your entire family.

Dragons roared and storms broke out in the tragic night.

a father’s love

synopsis: a character study of emperor geta and his dearest daughter (1.6k)

pairings: emperor geta & his daughter: julia domna & her granddaughter

contents: attempted infanticide, unhealthy relationships, mentions of violence, geta is doing his best to be a father! the daughter is never explicitly named in this work, but im sure in future works she'll be named! a/n: also, I'm slightly tweaking the years of geta and caracalla's rule, but that doesn't matter much other than they're ruling much longer than they realistically did. ientaculum is a form of breakfast!! it's a meal romans used to eat right after they woke up! it's nothing lavish! (also peep the marie antoinette movie reference)

divider by: @saradika !!

masterlist!!

ten years prior

the woman tries to hush the small baby, ignoring how soft hands putter against her arm in a pitiful attempt to escape. 

her baby is no older than three weeks, yet the woman has already let her live too long. there is no telling what the emperors would do if they learned of her child.

she had let the baby live out of pure selfishness, knowing her freedom from the emperors was only temporary until the conflict with a neighboring country ended.

she had selfishly ridden out her pregnancy, fooling herself into the belief that the emperor would cherish this child, and then it ended up being a little girl.

then she knew the child was doomed to death if she was caught.

so, with a gentle kiss goodbye, the woman wraps an old robe around the baby’s face, crying as she wails and twists underneath the material, trying to evade death.

-

the doors to the concubine quarters are slammed open, splintering off the wall as guards rush in, spears and swords brandished into the dark room. the woman splutters with shock as she pushes down harder on the wailing child, trying to fight the stronger hands pulling her back. 

she only surrenders when the tip of a sword meets her exposed neck, a slight gush of blood welling up to the cut, and a guard unwraps the baby’s face, the reddish skin slightly cooling as the night wind blows in through the windows. 

for a minute, she prays that the gods take mercy on her child and that the guards are only here to finish what she had started. but when the familiar smell of cinnamon and opobalsam fills the air, she knows her prayers weren’t answered. 

from the corner of her eye, a pale hand wraps around her baby, engulfing her child in a blur of golden rings and pale skin.

she knows that her prayers weren’t answered when imperator geta leans down to study her baby, lips twisted into a cruel scowl. 

she knows her prayers weren’t answered when imperator geta leaves with her baby, and a sword is plunged into her neck. 

-

rome, 211 ad

the moon seemed to cast a shadow on the entirety of palatine hill. there was little sound, besides the gentle whispering of the wind ruffling leaves and grasses, accompanied by the occasional animal noise.

if one strained their ears, they would hear the gentle pitter-patter of bare feet on the floors, accompanied by the minuscule shushing of julia domna.

the former empress leads the redheaded child through the halls of palatine hill, ignoring the multiple guards bowing their heads in respect as they whisk through the halls.

before they reach the main atrium, julia soothes down a curl on the girl's head before she lifts her veil, "neptis, this is where we part".

the child's lips quirk down into a frown before she smiles once more, the promise of being with her father soon. after their nighttime walks through the halls of palatine, julia always stopped before entering geta's section of palatine. she wasn't sure if it was out of respect or out of fear of her son.

at times, she wished she was like her granddaughter, fearless and full of love for the emperors. whilst the child was always stuck firmly on her father's side, she had indulged in caracalla's occasional affection for his niece.

on the occasion, when geta allows the child to accompany them outside of palatine to the occasional gladiator fight, julia could pretend her children weren't at each other's throats for full control of rome, and that her family had more concerns than a throne.

but for now, julia is content with watching the child hurry off into the dimly lit hallways leading to her son's chambers, getting intercepted by one of his personal guards after a few seconds.

she will see the child tomorrow, hiding in her father's shadow as they loom over the citizens of rome.

-

geta stalks the halls, waiting for the familiar sound of his child's poorly hidden laughter. she adored circling the guard as they walked through the halls, easily entertained by the sway of the guard's cape.

with a loud laugh, his child rushes into his hallway, grinning back at the guard, illuminated by the dim torches. perhaps if his child paid more attention, she would've been alerted to his rapidly approaching figure, closing in on her. he watches as the guard backs away, disappearing into the shadows of the halls as he reaches his child.

striking like a snake, geta collects his child in his arms, laughing at the terror that paralyzes the smaller body, stiffening in shock. however, once gathered in her father’s arms, resting her cheek against exposed skin where his armor ends, the child soothes, growing boneless as she slumps against him.

for a minute, he indulges in her childishness before they walk once more, striding through the heavily guarded halls as they near their chambers. the child keeps her hand firmly clasped around the material of his cloak, rubbing it between her fingers.

the sound of his armor and her breathing seemed nonexistent as they walked together, her eyes drooping with fatigue as the halls stretched on.

selfishly, geta tugs her impossibly closer before picking her up, allowing her to curl up against the chilled gold of his armor, tugging his cloak to the side, covering her upper body as they walked.

it was moments like these when geta was content with having a daughter. a son would be the child of rome, the future imperator. a boy whose only purpose in life was to lead rome.

but a daughter? a daughter would be his.

alas, this child is his. while his citizens adored seeing his child and celebrated her birth with the same festivities, feasts, and ceremonies that he and caracalla had, there was nothing that could harm his child. her every move wasn't analyzed and scoured with harsh eyes, instead, she was celebrated as an offering of peace, a soothing balm to the tensions within his empire.

even though rome hadn't been born an heir, geta had been blessed by the gods with an endlessly smart child, sweet and unharmed by the lurking horrors that hid within their empire.

even if she wasn't a boy, geta selfishly loved his child. he should've sent her to the vestal virgins, she could've been loved and treasured by the priestesses and the vestals, learning the duties of a roman matron and being safe within holy walls.

but he couldn't seem to let her go far.

when she had first been born, geta had grown obsessive over finding her and her mother. he and caracalla had both banished their concubines and servants alike, paranoid about a potential traditor during their conflict with the neighboring countries.

caracalla had learned of her life first from a drunken concubine who had seen the child, who had been present for her birth. the concubine had seemingly talked for hours, continuing on and on with her story before the news had reached geta.

they had found her in his mother's old concubine quarters, being smothered to death by a robe.

he can still remember the wailing of her mother as his guards yanked the woman away, peeling the robe off his baby's reddened face. he was quick to move through the room, ignoring the woman who screamed and kicked at his guards, spluttering curses and begs alike.

he had leaned down to look at the pitiful child, breathing rapidly, but not a sound escaped her. she had laid there silently, helpless and struggling for breath as they looked at each other.

he remembered the burning heat of her skin as he collected her in his hands, wide eyes blinking up at him as her breathing eventually evened out, still silent as she slept against his chest. perhaps it was the trust that likened him to the child so much, a curious presence, uncaring about his brutality as she grew.

it was a weakness that could be easily exploited, a child too weak to overthrow a potential assailant, a child that would succumb to even the smallest ounce of poison slipped into her chalice. whilst caracalla was constantly paranoid over assassination attempts on his own life, geta worried for his child.

she brought nothing to his reign, no comfort in knowing he had a successor to carry on his legacy. she had no claim to the throne, but geta held claim over her, and she held a claim over him.

she was worryingly loyal, even as unrest between the emperors grew and roman citizens grew hostile. she was blissfully unaware of the unrest, of potential wars and conflicts burning their way closer to rome.

she held no expectations of him. there was no need to continue being an emperor once he was inside his side of palatine hill, hidden away from the eyes of his brother and guards alike. inside his chambers, all he needed to be was a father.

so, for now, geta will keep her locked away in palatine, and perhaps one day she will grow to hate it, to hate her father, and perhaps her loyalty will shift to caracalla.

perhaps she will stare out of the windows and down to the streets of rome, endlessly enviable to the children roaming the streets, and grow to hate the stiffness of palatine hill.

but for now, his child is content to curl up and sleep, uncaring of anything outside of her father and what cheese she will have for ientaculum tomorrow.

MAKE ME CHOOSE MEME | anon asked - tiaras or headpieces

You dance so beautifully.

i imagine Corlys + Mushroom would’ve been something similar to Stefan Baratheon + Patchface whereas Corlys perhaps stumbled upon him during a voyage across the Narrow Sea and purchased Mushroom’s freedom to bring back to court just in time for the reader’s nameday celebration. and she spends most the day laughing at his antics and jokes much to some of the family’s displeasure. it’s Daemon who warns Viserys that the dwarf will be a bad influence and Viserys goes to brush off his brother’s concerns but Alicent much to everyone surprise back him up on the claim as she stares in disdain as the reader and Mushroom are taking turns attempting to throw blueberries into each other’s mouths. any words of worry fall onto deaf ears as the king relishes in the sound his his daughter’s laughter ringing through the feast hall. when the celebrations come to an end, it’s Corlys who offers Mushroom a lockbox containing enough gold to last the boy ten lifetimes, all to remain in the reader’s company. once Viserys hears that Mushroom intends to stay, the king order’s a room and handmaiden readied for him at once.

I love that! Imagining Mushroom looking at Alicent and Daemon glaring at him when he's having fun with the reader knowing full well he has the protection of the king.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Targaryen-Velaryon!Reader. Yes, this is targcest!! Mostly centered around Everyone x Reader, tho. Set in HOTD S1x7: Driftmark.

Traits/Features: i usually keep the readers descriptions ambiguous/unspecific but for obvious reasons, reader is mixed (though, her skin color - as well as her eye color -- isn't mentioned, it's heavily implied) and she has the traditional Targ/Velaryon white hair.

Warnings: Includes the use of Y/n. As it says above, this contains TARG-CEST, arranged by marriage!!! You have been warned. Twice. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Though, unlike other fics, I don't find it necessary to point out how they're related (if that makes sense). Brief mention of a major character death!! (Aka Laena's death). As this is set in the episode Aemond's eye was taken, his mutilation is also included (nothing too graphic tho). Despite all these warnings, the fic as a whole is more on the fluffy/general side.

Disclaimer: I dont own ASOIAF/HOTD or it's characters, nor do I claim to own them. Nor do I own the dividers/images used. All credits goes to their respective owners.

Targ Divider Credits: @/dingusfreakhxrrington.

Inspo for this chapter: [X] | Click this Link to see more Velaryon!Reader works.

Imagine... Being Rhaenyra and Laenor's trueborn daughter and earning the title, 'The Realm's Light'.

Or... In which, everyone witnesses the first acts of diplomacy, displayed by the makings of a future Queen.

To say, you were the last bit of light to grace the stone walls of Driftmark and its peoples, was an understatement.

The fight that broke out between the two Targaryen houses, was enough to test anyone's patience, but with the death of their only daughter - and unborn grandchild - still fresh in their hearts, Corlys and Rhaenys had little energy to fight back with, much less, to attempt at settling a score that had long-sinced been brewing.

But it's with the collective gasps of shock, emitting from those closest to the entrance of the halls' double doors, did everyone evert their eyes from the damage Viserys' ignorance and his daughter's entitlement was gonna ensue, in favor of looking upon the beauty, whose sleep was just rudely interrupted by her families' quarreling.

A gasp of her own, leaving her lips. "What's going on here?!"

There, at the center of all the chaos, came an angel in the form of Rhaenyra and Laenor's only true born daughter, and rightful heir, Y/n Velaryon.

The array of candles that lined the walls of the great hall, lit the path behind her, and formed a halo-like glow around the silver of her hair -- the sight akin to that of a dragon hatching from the flames, of its incubation chamber.

This dragon, however - although young and just a girl - was one many adored, and favored the most, over her siblings, not just because she was the only legitimate child of the Princess and her Lord Husband, but for her compassion and devotion to those who needed it.

Her betrothed, especially, being the one of many to be graced with such kindness.

Though, it had been a union, cultivated by King Viserys, purely on the bases that his crumbling and dying house be better fortified, it wasn't until now, did people - and Aemond, more importantly -, realize that initial kindness you paid the king's second son, wasn't out of obligation but out of the kindness of your heart.

The level of protectiveness and empathy you had shown the mutilated boy, and even better, the diplomacy you'd shown your brothers and cousins, and your good mother, Queen Alicent, in letting them each speak their truth - as the adults had lacked to do - in getting to the root of the problem, having turned every ill thought, Otto had engraved into Alicent's mind - and by extension, into Aemond's - about Rhaenyra and her brood being 'entitled little pricks', completely on its head.

The events that followed the infighting at Driftmark, having convinced everyone well enough, that the true Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, lie not with Rhaenyra, or even the kings firstborn son, Aegon ll, but with you.

The Realms Light.

A/N: Sorry for the month long wait (wait-- A MONTH?!! HOW TF DID THAT HAPPEN, lol?!), I was in the middle of moving. More chapters will be out soon.

(This fic was written and posted by ©️noonesgoneuntiltheyregone, between: 28/05-27/06/23).

Please don't copy, claim or repost my works!! You may like and reblog my works tho!!

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Marie Antoinette (2006) + Headpieces

Marie Antoinette's hats.

Hello! can you please make yandere platonic şehzade cem (son of fatih sultan mehmet) x only daughter reader?

Platonic father Şehzade Cem and only daughter reader.

~ You were the last child of Şehzade Cem and Gülşirin Hatun, the first and only daughter. You had three older brothers. When you were born, your father Şehzade Cem was very happy. Festivities were organized for days in honor of your birth.

~ During your infancy, your father Cem would often carry you in his arms. Unlike many other princes, he was very careful about being a father to you. When you turned five and started taking lessons, your father was very emotional. He was quickly growing the little baby.

~ He would go out to the garden with you and play games. He would bring you lots of gifts from the places he went. He would call you every young person and ask you to tell him how your day went. He would always listen to you carefully when you talked.

~ When you got sick, your father would worry a lot. He had developed paranoia about losing you because of your illness. He was very careful about your health. And he always tried so hard to make sure you were healthy and happy.

~ Like every Prince, your father Cem's had a dream of ascending to the throne. However, he wanted to seize the throne for you the most. If he ascended to the throne, he could give you a magnificent life using all the means at his disposal.

~ He would never consider marrying you off. You would always remain his little girl. In the version where he could not ascend to the throne, maybe after your father died, your platonic uncle Sultan Selim would take you under his wing. Maybe your cousin Prince Suleyman would develop yandere tendencies towards you. (🤭🤗)