You reluctantly sell yourself into the pleasure house on the same night Aemond reluctantly pays the brothel a visit.
WARNINGS: pleasure house activity, slight SA, fingering, oral (fem receiving), p in v, deflowering, slight mention of v bleeding, praise, degrading, soft sub!Aemond turns dom!Aemond quickly, breeding, cum play.
WORDS: 4.3k β I am SO sorry.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
My requests are open! π€
GIF byΒ veinereastath
The pleasure house is no place for a virgin.
Your familyβs farm struggled through a harsh winter and income was scarce, which led your father to somehow persuading you to place yourself in the brothel. βA few coins tossed by the noblemen of the land may go some way to help us get by,β he said, βand the chance of bearing an illegitimate child of a prince and potential heir to the Iron Throne would be priceless.β
The degradation. The humiliation. It would be unbearable. But the mere suggestion passing your fatherβs lips led you to believe that this was your purpose in life, that you could do no more to assist your familyβs plight than to whore yourself to the gentry of the land. Your worth surmounted to becoming a bedslave to perverted men whose wives, bearers of their children, could no longer satisfy them.
You blindly cooperated with the plan to resolve your familyβs financial crisis, refusing to acknowledge the depth of the depravity to which you would soon become accustomed, right up until the moment you found a quiet corner in the pleasure house to call your home, a peaceful nook where a pile of pillows laid while the other surfaces in the house were occupied. You placed yourself amongst the cushions, uncomfortably facing the wall while tugging at the hem of your significantly scanty attire, a drape of sheer linen designed to eccentuate your every curve not-so-well-hidden beneath, held together only by one ornate brooch positioned at your hip. Not last week, you would not have been seen dead in such scandalous dress, but financial needs must.
The low hum of seductive conversation and rising moans around the house began to drown out your thoughts within minutes of finding your space. Counting your blessings that no commotion had arrived into your safe haven, you clenched your eyes closed every chance you could find, willing every lecherous occupant to find a girl far more visually receptive to their advances than yourself.
βHow about it then?β A deep, warbled voice boomed by your ear, accompanied by the sinking of the pillows you were perched upon as a man took his seat beside you. Prizing your eyes open, your gaze fell upon the outline of a greasy man leaning into you, engorged hands hovering over your thigh as if waiting to strike. Without a thought, you swung your leg from his reach and adjusted the scanty fabric over your knees in some warped grasp at decency.
βN-no, thank you,β you politely declined with a shaky voice, gesturing toward the buzz of activity across the room from you. βI am sure my fellow ladies will be gracious enough to assist you. Good morrow, ser.β
βHah!β The man chortled heartily, clamping his hand down onto your thigh regardless. βYour job is to serve me, whore, you would do well to remember it.β
You placed your hand upon his in hopes to prize his fingers from digging into the soft flesh of your thigh, but his grip was too strong.
βPlease, good ser, bid me leave,β you protested weakly, wriggling your leg in futile defence. βIβ¦ Iβm not ready.β
βNot ready?!β He boomed his repetition, mocking your complaint so loud that a number of faces in the crowded room turned to face you. βYouβre a whore, my girl, you have to be ready.β
Pitiful giggles spread around the room, hushed mutters of βfrigidβ and βvirginβ reaching your ears just above the rising volume of your thundering heartbeat.
βPlease, serβ.β
βThatβs more like it,β he leered, grasping your leg tighter and sinking his nails into your skin while his free hand wandered to grapple with his breeches. βSay that again when youβre choking down on my cock.β
βNo, pleaseβ¦β
βThereβs no such word as βnoβ in the whore house, little bitch,β he hissed, globules of spit firing from his lips as he salivated over his next move, palming at himself beneath his pants.
βThe lady said no,β came another male voice behind you, softer and yet more assertive. βYou would do well to listen, old man.β
βWho the fuck do you think youβ,β the lewd man spat before craning to see the figure behind him. As soon as he registered the source of his interruption, he immediately released his vice-like grip on your thigh and grappled to his feet. βYβ¦ yes, Prince Aemond.β
Gasps shook through the pleasure house as the pairs of eyes trained on your once-comfortable nook scrambled to find a distraction, scattering back to their own business and refusing to look back.
Taking a deep breath, you strained around to see your saviour only to find a pair of black leather boots nestled amongst the pillows. Tracing up the black-clad figure, the man who came to your rescue appeared to be tall, lithe and battle-weary, one of his eyes concealed by a mysterious leather patch which disappeared into his poker-straight blonde hair. The saviour stood defiant and unresponsive, his hands clasped studiously behind his back and a faint smirk cinching the corner of his lips as you looked up at him.
βThβ¦ thank you, kind princeβ¦β you stuttered, brows knitting at the thought of the words that were about to roll from your tongue.
βAemond,β he interjected, folding his knees to bend to your level. βCall me Aemond.β
βTo what do I owe such kindness, Aemond, ser?β You scrambled to cover yourself once more with the flimsy textile drape, grabbing a cushion to place in your lap for some semblance of presentability in the presence of royalty.
βYou seem as reluctant to be here as I am,β he chuckled softly, resting both hands on his bended knee. βWere you forced to serve here, gevie?β Beautiful.
βBy circumstance, ser,β you bowed your head. Admitting poverty in the face of royalty would surely abolish your remaining shred of dignity, as if your presence in the pleasure house had not already dispelled that notion.
βMe too,β Aemond sighed, nodding in agreement. βAlthough I imagine under quite different circumstances.β
You would not dare to question what he meant by that comment, but he seemed eager to appease your wordless curiosity.
βMy brother Aegon is over there,β he pointed across the room to another platinum blonde-haired youthful figure, his tumbling curls framing his face as he seduced another bedslave. βHe brought me here to ensure I bed as many women as possible to acquire experience enough to satisfy a future wife.β
Your vision wandered to meet his eye once more, that same kind glow exuding from his gaze back at you, blinking softly and recognising your fragility in the same manner as his own. He looked upon you as an equal, another human worthy of the same respect and honour afforded to himself by all that engage with him. His instant inviting nature only succeeded in intimidating you more, coming from a man so sublimely ethereal that you should never wish to reject him for anything even if he were not the prince of the realm. Your eyes lingered upon his lips, pursed in thought as he looked upon you.
βThank you, ser,β you smiled warmly in return, willing yourself to find the courage to reach out and touch his hand in sympathy. βFor your kind reassurance and your company when you have other business to attend to this night. Please do not allow me to keep you from your purpose here, kind ser.β
βDear earthbound angel, I am quite certain you are my purpose here this night,β Aemond half-purred, drinking in your appearance as a man dying of thirst yet determined to remain composed in front of the bustling company in the pleasure house. His eye darted around the room to ensure all gazes had averted from you before unfolding his legs and perching on the cushions beside you. βTell me, why waste your virtues on the rich yet ill-mannered of Westeros in here? You could well serve in the royal court and escape this hellhole.β
βI believe this place matches my worth, ser.β Your gaze dropped into your lap in shame but Aemondβs pale hand reached toward you, planting a tip of a finger beneath your chin and gently raising your countenance to meet his.
βDo not be ashamed, little dove,β Aemond soothed with a reassuringly authoritative tone, his eye wandering to your lips as he spoke. βLet me show you your worth.β
Aemond leaned into you slowly, giving you every chance to withdraw from his advances, but instead you met him halfway and pressed your lips against his. The contact was brief before he pulled back to gaze into your eyes once more, taking another opportunity to ensure you were comfortable with his motions. This time, you reached a hand to curl around the back of his neck and drew him in again, kissing him deeply. Aemond grunted softly into your kiss, wandering both arms to envelope your waist as you traced each otherβs mouths.
The mysterious one-eyed prince pressed even closer to your lips as if starving for your touch, craving contact with you with every part of his body. Parting his lips ever so slightly, the tip of his tongue ventured out to beg for entry to your mouth, moaning into you as you granted it. His hold on your waist tightened, pulling you flush to his chest so close you may as well be seated in his lap.
Aemond embraced you as if you were the only two people in the room, completely oblivious to the stony silence in the room which was once filled with echoes of gratuitous moans, the lewd slapping of skin and raucous laughter, now only occupied by the sounds of your tongues lashing together.
Breaking contact to draw breath, you opened your eyes to find Aemondβs one eye completely blown with lust, glazed and hazy, looking upon you as if the rest of the world around you had shattered like a mirror and all that remained was you, Aemond and the plumped cushions beneath you. Your vision darted around the room to find every pair of eyes glaring at your display, fascinated by the sight of the one-eyed prince claiming his first conquest in the pleasure house. Aegon propped himself against a table with one hand on his hip, a smug grin tapering his lips as he watched his brother executing his plan perfectly.
βAemond,β you called to attract his attention away from you. It took a few more moments before he finally tore himself away to look around the room, noticing his brotherβs gaze and quickly clearing his throat. Hurrying to his feet, he extended a hand toward you to help you up from the cushions. His graceful, beautiful hand had clearly seen conflict judging by its scrapes and scars, but nonetheless gifted in its regal pale pallor. Quickly accepting his invitation, you lifted yourself up and looked to the one-eyed prince for guidance.
βLetβs get out of here, my Lady,β he muttered, stepping down from the cushion pile while clutching your hand to ensure your safe disembarkment.
βAemond, I am not a laβ.β
βIf you will excuse us,β Aemond announced to the room, causing a tidal wave of searing heat to wash over your cheeks as he walked you through the crowds. With one hand still holding onto yours, another raised dismissively into mid-air to ensure the pleasure house returned to its usual function with haste. βPlease, continue your festivities.β
βββ
The door to Aemondβs chambers slammed shut behind you so loudly, the sharp crack of wood snapped you back into the room. You froze upon the sight of his large bed before you, smooth silk sheets draped so beautifully, cascading over the edge of the mattress and draping to the floor. Such an elegant sight that would soon be destroyed.
βAemond, you called me your lady,β you muttered under your breath, not daring to turn to face the man as he approached you from behind. βI am not worthy of such an address.β
Without warning, pale hands softly snaked around your waist and a chin rested gently upon your shoulder, planting butterfly kisses into your neck.
βYou are a woman, are you not?β Aemond affirmed against your ear. βYou have treated me with the honour, respect and grace of my position and I have returned the favour. You have not questioned me, you have not defied me, and you have certainly not wronged me. Therefore, I see you as nothing less than my Lady.β
Convinced Aemond would feel you blushing, you dipped your head into his touch as his careful breaths warmed your skin. Planting feather-light kisses atop your hair, the prince breathed in deeply, inhaling your presence in the safety of his chambers far away from the debauched prying eyes of the pleasure house.
βDo you trust me?β Aemond whispered into the shell of your ear. Suddenly, your gaze flicked back to the sight of his bed, swallowing thickly at the realisation of the inevitable next step of your evening with the One-Eyed Prince. Shaking your head to dispel your concerns, you placed your hands atop his as they rested on your stomach.
βCompletely,β you sighed happily, melting into his touch as he peppered another kiss onto your hair.
βYou have never laid with a man before?β His tone was soothing, devoid of judgement. You shook your head, encouraging Aemond to grip your hips and spin you around to face him where his reassuring smile greeted you once more. Cupping your face in both hands and gazing down at your lips, Aemond sighed contentedly.
βThen this will be a first for us both.β
Capturing you in a haunting kiss, you barely noticed Aemond carefully stepping you backwards until your calves met with the hard wood of his bed, tumbling into the depths of his sheets as he stood before you. Aemond drank in the sight amongst his once crisp bedlinen, squaring up to the only obstacle between him and your innocence β the flimsy translucent garment concealing your body from him.
βGevie,β Aemond whispered in a tongue unfamiliar to your uneducated ear. Beautiful.
He reached to unclasp his belt and breeches without tearing his eyes away from you, swathes of leather and black linen pooling at his feet and buckles clanking against the flagstones as he stepped out of every layer that restricted him. You froze to the spot watching him, swallowing thickly in anticipation and want as he revealed more and more pale flesh.
βYou like what you see, sweet girl?β He chuckled, a curt grin eking across the corner of his lips.
βI do, Prince Aemond,β you concurred, leaning up on your elbows to observe him closer. βDo you think me wicked?β
βI think you are the most beautiful sight a manβs earthbound eyes will ever see,β he cooed, planting his knees on the edge of the bed and crawling slowly over to you, leaning down to hover over you, his lips an inch from yours. He ventured a hand to your face, brushing your hair behind your ear. βHowever, there is one obstacle that stands in my way.β
His hand traced gently down your neck to your collarbone, guiding down through the valley of your breasts on its mission toward your hip, tantalising over the elegant brooch that so rudely prohibited him from your figure.
βCursed thing,β he muttered lowly, fiddling with its clasp and casting the bronze accessory across the room, a distant clank assuring him he would not be further inhibited by its presence. With a low, hungry growl, Aemond swept aside the linen concealing you and exposed your curves beneath. The roomβs cool air graced your skin and left goosebumps in its wake, leading you to inhale softly at the sensation. Aemond was now rooted to the spot, gazing at your frame nestled amongst his sheets for what felt like an eternity as you waited for his next move. The anticipation was unbearable, clasping your thighs together beneath him and squirming uncomfortably.
βAemond,β you snapped him out of his lust-ridden stupor, beckoning his gaze back to meet yours. Dropping back against the sheets, you reached both hands through his blonde locks to cup his neck, drawing him in closer. βPlease, fuck me already.β
βWell well,β a chuckle erupted in Aemondβs throat, smirking gleefully from ear to ear. βThis is quite a transformation. What happened to my shy little virgin?β
βShe has waited long enough,β you sighed, your fingertips impatiently traversing his back and tracing idle patterns across his bare skin and raising a gentle shiver in response.
βThen my Lady shall not be kept waiting,β he sighed, guiding his own fingertips across the traverse of your hipbone in retaliation, rejoicing in the soft buck of your hips in response. βI trust she will at least allow her prince to prepare her beforehand?β
Unclenching your legs to part beneath him, you spread yourself open wide and elicited an explicit groan from the depths of the one-eyed Princeβs throat.
βThatβs my good girl,β he murmured, trailing his forefinger to meet your mound, shivering under his touch. The very tip of his finger journeyed to trace the outline of your folds, ghosting ever so slightly over your moistened entrance yet still collecting the beads of anticipation on its way. βTell me, who owns this pretty little cunt?β
Between strangled breaths, you mumbled his name. Displeased with your muted response, Aemond slipped two fingers through your folds, delving knuckle-deep within you.
βSpeak up, little dove, let the whole castle hear you.β
βYβ¦ yours, Aemond,β you spluttered, chest heaving and hips convulsing at his every movement. He curled his long fingers inside you, pressing against the ripples of your walls in gentle stroking motions.
βAnd what would you have me do with it?β He pressed, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched you unravel beneath him.
βPlβ¦ please,β you mewled helplessly as he added another finger into your depths, pumping fervently in staccato time with your racing heartbeat, now reaching his free hand to press down into the valley of your hips so he can feel his fingers inside you. The unusual sensation sent your head sinking into the pillow, hands fisting into the sheets and pleading for your climax to release you from the tension within. βPlease fuck me, Aemond.β
His fingers pummelled at a breakneck pace inside you, driving you careering toward the precipice before a telltale strangled gasp signalled your oncoming orgasm to your one-eyed tormentor, who withdrew his dripping fingers and left you clenching around nothing. Bucking your hips like a wild animal and fighting against his grip to squeeze your thighs together, you cried out in despair at Aemondβs sudden betrayal.
He watched you struggle for a few moments, glee spread across his thin lips until they suddenly plunged down to meet your clit, his tongue racing in fervent circles around your bundle of nerves and journeying south to delve into your folds. Lapping at your soaking cunt like a man possessed, Aemondβs low moans vibrated through your core as he curled his tongue inside you just the same as his fingers, which now found themselves digging crescent dips into the flesh of your thighs to spread them wide before him.
βAemond, pleaseβ¦ mβmore,β you wailed weakly, throwing your head back into the pillow and jerking your hips into his face, craving more friction to help you tumble over the cliff-face this time.
βNeedy girl,β he muttered against your folds sending tremors throughout you, splaying his tongue out over your entrance to venture a clean stripe with each breath. βMy virgin knows exactly what she wants before sheβs even tried it.β
Cooperating gladly, he unlatched from your sodden core and swooped up to capture you in a deep kiss, one hand venturing to line his leaking tip with your entrance.
βAre you ready to take me, my Lady?β Aemond enquired, a considerate tone in his voice suggesting he knew a womanβs first coupling is laced with a degree of pain. The breaking of your maidenhead would cause discomfort, that much was certain, but the sheer ecstasy of laying with such a caring man, least of all a prince of the realm, dispelled a vast amount of your trepidation in the process.
βDefile me, Aemond,β you nodded, pleading, begging for contact.
βYour wish is my command, your Grace,β he smiled, dragging his tip over your folds and dipping in slowly. Your harsh intake of breath met the sound of his teeth-baring hiss as he gently sheathed himself fully within you in one thrust, resting balls deep inside you before searching your face for a response.
You mewled softly, which was response enough for your prince.
βYouβre doing so well for me, my good girl,β he praised effortlessly, his one eye roving into his skull as the sensation of your walls enveloping his cock finally satisfied his craving. βYouβre taking my cock so well. Does it hurt so, or are you ready for me to move?β
You nodded in approval, riding out the uncomfortable stretch within you by rutting up into him, easing his next thrust before he even reared his hips back.
βAemond, moreβ¦ please,β you stuttered between laboured breaths, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to draw him in closer. βFaster, please. Oh gods, fuck!β
βThis cannot be the same innocent virgin I saved earlier.β Aemond chuckled under his breath, obeying your command and gazing down to watch his length accumulating a small splatter of virginal blood before plunging deeper, drawing out further and slamming back into your depths so deep you swore you could feel him in your guts. βI thank the Seven for granting me the good fortune to be your firstβ¦β
One particularly devastating thrust summoned stars in your peripheral vision, glazing over your view of the blonde gyrating above you.
βAnd your only.β
Another earth-shattering piston of his hips made you yell out in ecstasy, scratching your nails down his back before peppering chaste kisses into his breastbone in an attempt to silence your screams.
Aemond noticed.
βNever,β he punctuated with another gut-wrenching thrust. βEver, let me catch you holding back again. Use your voice, little dove, scream the castle down if needs must. I will not rest until Castle Black hears me fucking you unconscious.β
Your fucked-out gaze up at the graceful blonde pummelling his cock into your womb set Aemondβs every vein alight, a searing heat coursing through his body that he was sure he would not allow to escape his clutches after this night. He needed to ensure you would return to his chambers every night in the same manner, receiving the same mind-altering fucking each night for the rest of your life.
Aemond needed more than to claim you for the moment. He needed a guarantee.
βBear my child,β Aemond spoke in an inquisitive tone, asking rather than stating. Laying a flat palm into the valley of your hips and revelling in the sensation of his cockhead brushing against his palm as he thrusted deep inside you, the way he returned your gaze with his own wanton, desperately lust-blown expression suggested this was a plea.
βYes, yes, yes,β you repeated between gasps and staccato breaths as his relentless pace denied you the oxygen to form full sentences. Hooking your feet behind his hips and clasping around him as tightly as possible, you hummed lowly into his ear: βBreed me, Prince Aemond.β
The mere passing of such filthy words from your lips sent you slipping over the precipice of your orgasm at last, flooding around his cock and gushing out from your folds, soaking his once crisp sheets beneath you.
βThatβs it, thatβs my good girl,β he purred under his breath, head bowed into your neck as his rhythmic thrusts faltered in turn. βSuck my cock dry just like that, take everything I give to you.β
A gratuitous moan betrayed his own climax as he spilled his seed within you, deftly painting your walls and retaining his thrusts to ensure his cum would not escape your quaking cunt. Both refusing to relent your pace as if wishing you could rut together forever, you slowed your bucking hips and stilled beneath him while he pulled out from your folds and quickly ventured two fingers to push his seed back inside you.
Aemond leaned back to kneel between your legs for what felt like an eternity, gazing at your body slick with beads of glistening sweat and shaking gently in his wake.
βGevie riΓ±a,β he hummed to himself as he drank in the sight before him. βGevie fucking riΓ±a.β
As much as the sight of the one-eyed prince worshipping every inch of your figure made your heart soar, something suddenly dawned on you.
βAemond,β you enquired, a note of nervous anticipation in your voice. βAll evening, you have called me your Lady. In the throes of passion, you called me your Grace.β
βRest assured, little dove, I meant every word,β he confirmed without tearing his gaze from your swollen core, red raw and pulsing from the manner in which he so monumentally deflowered you, moulding you to his design, ensuring no other could take his place inside your body forevermore.
βBut I am not worthy of such addresses,β you affirmed, grappling to cover yourself with the sheer linen he tore from your frame, eyes darting around the room for any glint of the fundamental brooch you required to dress yourself to leave. βI must return to the pleasure house at once.β
βNo!β He snapped, throwing himself forward on his knees to stop you. βYou shall never return to that brothel, nor any other for that matter.β
βButβ¦ why?β
βBecause, little dove, you will soon be addressed by the whole of Westeros in the same manner as I,β he sighed contentedly. βAs soon as I make you my princess, people across the length and breadth of our country will dub you their Grace.β
You quirked an eyebrow at his sudden revelation, which seemed altogether not so sudden as if he had thought his grand plan through as thoroughly as he had just fucked you senseless.
βI see, and when will you be making a princess out of me, Prince Aemond?β
The blonde one-eyed prince leaned forward on his knees, crawling to hover his lips over yours once more.
hi everyone! before i post my first aemond fic, i figured i should introduce myself first.
iβm ali, 30 and from the uk.
iβm not new to fics by any means. iβve been writing in the AHS fandom under @langdxn for a few years but since joining the got/hotd fandom, i wanted my writing to have its own platform rather than tagging along with my previous works and confusing my AHS followers. hence, aemxnd.
iβll be honest, iβm very new to got/hotd to the point iβve only recently finished watching. but iβm a sucker for hyperfixations and this is my next port of call.
in terms of writing, if youβve checked out my previous account youβll see iβm a smut writer with a slight angle on angst. fluff is a struggle for me so i donβt naturally gravitate towards it in oneshots, but some fluffy requests are irresistible.
what can you expect from me from here on in? aemond. daemon. obscene smut thatβs probably a lot longer than it needs to be. obsessing over aemondβs eye. still trying to get my head around the mental image of the eleventh doctor fucking. fics published at 4am with absolutely no proofreading because i just need to share them as a matter of urgency.
iβm currently hammering out the last scenes of my first aemond smut so iβm always open to criticism of any kind, please donβt hesitate to let me know if iβm doing things wrong. my asks are open so iβm looking forward to meeting new friends and fellow readers/writers!
i canβt wait to start a new journey in this fandom, see you very soon!
thank you lovely, itβs great to see you again! how have you been? iβm trying to catch up with all the fandoms everybodyβs in nowβ¦ my dash is full of targaryens and eddie munson and iβm not even complaining π
writers who create dark content do not inherently condone or romanticize rape, violence, or abuse. It is your responsibility to use critical thinking and nuance.
for those of you that asked for more joker!kai, would you like a continuation of the thread that started it all? or would you prefer a new scenario entirely?
lurking in the shadows of brookfield heights, scheming and plotting the downfall of all those whoβve wronged him, chewing his lip while he contemplates his next move.
chain smoking to the point heβs acquired a new husky tone after spending too many nights curled up with an ashtray and a chip on his shoulder.
thick face paint settling into the cracks in his sadistic grin.
that is, until someone arrives in his life to wipe the sarcasm away. a woman. the daughter of his fiercest enemy.
he knew he shouldnβt have given in that night he kidnapped her and she begged for her life. he shouldnβt have spared her, but her eyes sparkled so brightly in the dimly-lit basement that he saw hope. not just in her, but in himself. for the first time in his life.
but the mere thought of someone fading away his reason to be inherently furious with all of humanity disturbs him. he doesnβt know how to be anything but venomous, bitter, haggard.
so he goes on a rampage, one last blast at freedom before the sinister part of his mind closes for business forever. a blaze of glory for what he used to be.
but when he returns home that night, bloodied, bruised, his makeup cracked and flaking, she doesnβt question it. she doesnβt falter. he crawls into bed beside her and she wraps her arms around him the same as before.
he takes a deep breath and places his hands on hers.
she doesnβt know his final kill was her father. not yet, at least.
You'd better get back to tumblr soon woman 'cause I became obsessed with Cody Fern (Michael) (no, I don't live in a cave) just yesterday and your blog was the first one where I read the fics about him and I liiiiiked them. U are amazing. I.want.moooooooore.
aaaah i donβt know when you sent this but iβm coming back slowly! how was it in that cave? π thank you so much lovely, i just need the free time to write more and iβll be back properly. we need a michael renaissance π
