#house of the dragon dividers

[targaryen-dynasty]

THIN, MINIMALISTIC HOUSE SYMBOLS DIVIDERS.

TARGARYEN.

STARK.

BARATHEON.

LANNISTER.

BOLTON.

MORMONT.

ARRYN.

GREYJOY.

MARTELL.

TYRELL.

Please like or reblog if you use.

[dingusfreakhxrrington]

Game of Thrones House Dividers

please like and reblog if you use or save them!

credits are appreciated if you use them

have any divider requests? send me an ask!

[zaldritzosrose]

Team Green Dividers

Please reblog and tag if you use them!!

Team Green

Aemond Targaryen

Aegon Targaryen

Helaena Targaryen

Daeron Targaryen

Alicent Hightower

Otto Hightower

Criston Cole

[nataliescatorccio]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON 1x02 | 2x03

[lannister-rose]

Duty Ends Where Love Starts - Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sweethearts since childhood, you and Aegon were always meant to be together, but when duty, love, and political rivalry all clash together, you both find yourselves in loveless marriages with other people. After an argument breaks out between your husband, Aemond, and his brother you seek to help mend the issue. When you find yourself in Aegon's chambers alone with only him, suppressed emotions bubble their way to the surface.

Warnings: Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter, Slight Aemond x Reader (One Sided), Infidelity, Heavy emphasis on infidelity, Targcest (Uncle and Niece), Arranged marriages, Smut, P in V sex, Creampie, Mentions of pregnancy, use of Moon Tea, Minors Do Not Interact (MDNI)

Word Count: 2.9k

You were three and ten when Aegon kissed you for the first time in the library of the Red Keep while you were both supposed to be studying. It was your first kiss, and his, too; neither of you knowing what to do as your lips met each other's. It was clumsy and awkward, lasting only a few seconds, but it felt like a bliss-filled eternity before you pulled away, your cheeks burning as a deep shade of bright red covered them, you stuttering as you failed to find the right words to tell the boy who you had fallen for.

After that day you begged your mother, Rhaenyra, to speak with your Grandsire about having you wed to Aegon when you both came of age, telling her that you'd never have another take your hand in marriage. Your mother honored your request, but it was Aegon's mother, the Queen Consort Alicent Hightower, who refused to betroth her eldest to you.

When the time came, you found yourself Aemond Targaryen's wife, a marriage that would prove itself to be far from fulfilling. Aemond loved you, as he claimed, but the feelings were far from reciprocated, even as you spent more time with him over the years. He wasn't Aegon. Still, duty always called to those who held it, and you were his wife by law.

"Where is Aegon?" Your Grandsire, Viserys, questioned one night over supper, looking around the table for his son. "Do any of you know where he is?" He asked again, looking to the fellow members of your family for any insight. You had to admit, you were curious, too. It wasn't like him to miss supper, especially not when his favorite wine was being served.

"He and I had an argument," Your husband answered from beside you, the traces of a smug smirk on his face as he glanced over at you. "He had some choice words regarding my Lady Wife and I, and I made sure to put him in his place." You raised a brow at the information, unable to feign disinterest any longer. "My elder brother is likely sulking in his room right now as any child would." You watched as Alicent shot him a look, a warning to her son not to bring further drama to the already tense table.

"You two have been at each other's throats since we were children, Aemond." You stated plainly, standing up from your seat. "I do not wish to hear of your bickering with him, not at supper." You moved, heading towards the room's entrance. "I've lost my appetite, please excuse me."

You left, moving through the halls and towards Aegon's chambers. It had been your job since you were young to be your uncles' mediator, helping mend, or at least calm them both after their arguments. This one would be no different. You didn't bother knocking on the door once you were at his room, quickly dismissing the guards before stepping in.

He sat at his desk, staring down into a cup of wine with a mix of irritation and what looked to be a hint of hurt on his face as he swirled the dark liquid around in its cup. His deep purple eyes turned upwards to look at you briefly as you entered before returning down, the prince not bothering to react much to your sudden intrusion into his chambers.

"Has anyone ever taught you it's rude to barge into someone else's chambers without knocking first, Lady Velaryon?" He asked, the statement more of a playful jab than a question, even despite his slightly annoyed tone of voice.

"You and Aemond fought, and I hear it involved me, Uncle." You said, skipping straight to the point as you grabbed a spare chair from elsewhere in the room and pulled it up to the desk, sitting next to Aegon. "My husband said you had some 'choice words' regarding him and myself, may I ask what you said?"

Aegon set his cup down, finally looking at you fully. "I was drunk and said some things I should not have said; that is all that happened between him and me." He confessed, and you knew he was only speaking half of the truth, the half you already knew.

"Really? Is that all? Then why have you isolated yourself to your room then?" You pried, determined to get to the bottom of the issue. "What did you say, Aegon?"

Your uncle looked away, refusing to meet your gaze and you two fell into silence for a long moment, the prince trying to decide what he would say. "Do you ever know what our lives would be like if we had been wed to each other? If all the pleading we had done hadn't fallen on the deaf ears of our mothers?" He turned his head back up, looking at you with eyes swirling deep with conflicted emotion.

"Of course I do, Aegon." You answered simply, taking a deep breath. "But fate had other plans for us all, and we must adapt to it. Duty is scarcely something we desire." You felt your heart ache at your admission, the cruel reality of your situation sinking in once more after you'd spent years trying to bury how it made you feel.

"What do you desire?" He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently before he continued. "Are you happy with Aemond? Do you want to be with him? Has your heart begun to yearn for my brother after all these years with him?" Aegon awaited your answer, every second of your silence felt like a lifetime.

"It does not matter what I desire," You finally spoke, removing your hand from his. "I must fulfill my duty as—"

"Fuck duty." He interrupted, tone laced with bitterness. "I asked what you wanted, not what you must." He grabbed his wine, taking a long drink of it before speaking again. "I told Aemond that he didn't deserve you. That's why we argued, sweetling." The last word, filled with hate as it left his lips, felt like a sharp dagger to the chest. "My brother doesn't love you as I do, doesn't understand how much it infuriates me to hear the talk of him neglecting you while claiming to cherish you, his darling wife." Aegon's grip on his cup tightened, fingers digging into the metal.

You stood from your seat, making your way towards the door. "I think you're drunk again, Aegon. I'll see you once you've sobered up and stopped talking nonsense." Before you could leave he stood up quickly, grabbing your arm and pulling you back, flipping you around to face him. Your eyes widened as you stared back at him, and your mouth opened to scold him for what he just did.

Before you could take the chance to speak, he kissed you, lips moving with fervor against yours as he poured every emotion he ever felt for you into it. You hesitated before kissing back, melting into his touch as you relaxed, your hands resting on his shoulders as he pulled you closer, arms wrapping around your waist. It was wrong, you knew it, but emotion overpowered logic as you gave into him, tasting the fruity, almost sweet taste of wine on his lips as he kissed you.

"Aegon," You breathed out once you separated, your heart racing in your chest as you stared into his Indigo eyes filled with love and affection only he had ever shown you. You hadn't kissed him since before his wedding to Helaena so many years ago, and doing it once more after so long brought every feeling you had suppressed for him back to the surface.

"I need you to know that I'm not drunk when I say this." He paused, tenderly cupping your face in his hands. "I love you. With every part of my being. I swear it by the Gods." He leaned in further, your lips nearly touching again. "You may be Aemond's by law, but you are mine. We both know it, and we've gone too long denying it. What's stopping us from loving one another behind closed doors? What the rest of our family doesn't know will bring no harm."

You took a shaky breath at the proposition. It was a risky one should you follow through with it, but the risk made it all the more exciting to think about. Being able to be with the one you loved after so long would be worth the sneaking around, the guilt, and the shame.

"I'd kill for you, man or woman. I'd burn our house to the ground, burn the Seven Kingdoms to ash if it meant I'd be with you at the end of it all." His lips pressed against yours once more in another passion-filled kiss. You wanted him, needed him. No man had touched you in so long, not your husband, and not Aegon; you craved more of it, hungered for it like a starved animal staring at its first meal in ages.

You kissed him back with equal desire, moaning against his lips as you led him towards his bed, carefully pushing him down onto the mattress below. You straddled him, pressing up against the growing budget in his breeches as he held your hips, looking up at you with uncertainty, a rare state to see the prince in when with women.

"What's wrong, Aegon? You've bedded many women before. Don't tell me you've grown scared of them now." You teased, hands running over the expensive fabric of his dark forest green tunic.

"I've bedded whores, not the noble lady who I've loved since childhood." He corrected, letting you slip off his shirt and throw it to the stone ground below, leaving his chest bare and free for you to see and drink in the sight of. "Is it so wrong of me to wish to please you properly?"

You chuckled lightly at his words. "You're already doing better than Aemond by spending this time with me. My husband rarely has me in such a position." It was Aegon's turn to chuckle, slipping your gown off your shoulders as he did so. He watched your breasts spill out of your dress, cock hardening even further at the beautiful sight

"Gods, your beauty is unmatched." His hand found your soft breast, kneading it as you moaned lewdly, the sound like music to his ears. "Do you know how long I've yearned to hear those sounds come from you? How many nights I had spent wishing you were the one with me instead of some whore?" He pressed open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your chest, savoring each and every noise that escaped you.

You helped him remove your gown fully, leaving your fully nude figure on full display to your lover. He drank in the sight, the look of you being more fulfilling and delicious than any other person or thing he had ever experienced. You weren't from a brothel, nor were you Helaena or any other woman who had ever been with. You were his first and only love, and here you were in front of him, letting him do to you what he had always desired.

"You're staring, Aegon." You observed, your voice low and sultry, utterly intoxicating.

"What man wouldn't when faced with such a pretty thing?" His hands roamed your body as he smirked.

You pulled off his breeches, letting his cock spring out, the tip already leaking small translucent pearls of precum from the excitement of it all. You bit your lip as you realized how big he was. You'd struggle to take him. You stroked him slowly, bringing your hand up and down his thick length. Aegon watched through half-lidded violet eyes as you touched him, a groan of your name leaving his lips. Then you placed his cock, hard and ready, at your entrance, sinking down onto it, struggling to hold back a loud moan as you did so.

"I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted you." Aegon's hands grabbed at your hips as you began to bring yourself up and down, riding his cock. You felt like no other woman he had ever been with; to him, you were perfection. For the first time in his life he was overwhelmed by sex, the emotions he held for you combined with the feeling of the velvety walls of your cunt wrapped around him combined in a way that had his head blissfully empty except for the thought of you.

"Kiss me." The words sounded more desperate than he intended, but that's what he was: desperate. The prince had never been one to kiss when he did these things, but he had gone years without you, and he'd be damned if he didn't take all you had to offer, savoring it as he did.

You listened to him, leaning down, your body pressing up against his as your lips moved together sloppily. Aegon gripped your hips tighter, beginning to thrust his own upwards, driving his cock deep into you. You whimpered against his lips, trying to meet his movements with yours to get more of him.

"You're going to make me cum." Aegon announced through his groans, unable to last long with how well you were taking him. "I'm going to fill you up, little dove. You want that, don't you? I'll make you mine." You let out a mix between a moan and a whine as his thrusts up into you grew rougher, the sounds of your shared pleasure filling the otherwise quiet room. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, mouth wide open as you failed to do much else other than let him fuck you.

"Fuck! Aegon!" You managed to get out as the tip of his cock grazed your sweet spot, pushing you closer to your impending climax. All it took was one more touch of that same spot, more head-on this time, for you to cum around him, your cunt fluttering with the force of your orgasm. He followed soon after, losing his rhythm before his hips stilled, warm cum coating your insides and spilling out down your thighs.

You slumped over, breathing heavily as you lay next to him, placing your head on his chest as your post-orgasmic haze set it. His fingers combed through your hair, deep violet eyes closing as his lips curled up into a satisfied smile; the silver-haired man being pleasantly exhausted.

"I love you." You spoke softly, breaking the silence. "They say love is where duty ends, Aegon." The prince tucked a stray lock of your hair behind your ear before caressing your cheek.

"That's because love feels a lot better, sweetling. We all indulge despite what's expected of us. Tonight we chose to indulge in each other," he leaned in, a sweet kiss soon finding its way to you. "It's wrong, isn't it? What we've done here. I don't care how wrong things may be, not when you're next to me, warming my bed." He moved on top of you, being to press chaste, loving kisses to your neck. You smiled tiredly, wrapping your arms around him, enjoying the warmth he radiated.

No one would keep you from him, not after tonight. You'd both have to return to your spouses eventually when duty overpowered love, but for now, you were each other's.

When what was expected of you did make its call you separated from Aegon, bathing away the remnants of your night together before leaving his chambers, thankful that the servants who fetched the water didn't pry further. Later on, you found yourself in the library, pretending to read a book while you reminisced about that first kiss with Aegon that started it all between you and him. The sound of shoes stepping against the hard floor drew you out of your thoughts, and you looked up toward the source, finding it to be your mother.

"We need to talk," Rhaenyra said with concern in her voice, making her way to you quickly, a small cup held carefully in her hands. She sat beside you, handing you the cup. You took it, a confused look on your face.

"What's this?" You asked, looking down at the currently unidentified liquid that smelled of tansy and sweet honey.

"I don't know what you've done, what risks you've already taken, but rumors have spread of your infidelity." Your mother explained. "I do not wish to interrogate you, but I have a feeling I already know who it is whom you've spent your time with, and knowing who he is, I know these words are likely more than just gossip spread by those wishing to sully your name."

Your heart sunk at her words, and it was then that you knew what she had handed you. It was moon tea, that's why it smelled of tansy. "Mother, I'm—" She stopped you, placing her hands onto yours, comforting you.

"I know what it's like to choose love over all else, and the dangers which come. You mentioned in passing a few days ago how Aemond hadn't touched you in a long while. He's no fool. He'll know if you fall pregnant that the child isn't his, and I fear what he may do once that realization comes.

You took a deep breath, bringing the cup up to your lips and taking a sip, the taste both bitter and sweet as it reached your tongue. Your mother understood like no other could.

"It is just a precaution, sweet girl. I trust you to be cautious from now on. Duty ends where love starts." She stood up, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You needed your mother in this moment, and here she was. She was right. Duty ends where love starts. That phrase would become your mantra.

[houseofthetides]

It’s gotta be someone wise. And obviously incredibly sexy.

Eve Best & Steve Toussaint + HotD S2 + Guess That Line

[legitalicat]

"Maybe I Could Learn to Love You" - Aemond Targaryen x Redwyne!Reader

Grabbed the gif from sabrinaacarpenters

AN: To be real with y'all, We Become We from the Journey to Bethlehem soundtrack totally inspired this. I've not seen the movie but this song is blowing up on my tiktok.

Masterlist here!

Summary: Aemond could never choose to love another. Maybe you could learn to love him too.

CW: tooth rotting fluff, arranged marriage, I tried to be as neutral as possible for reader description, did use daughter 1 time and dear girl 1 time so presumably AFAB daughter, no other descriptors for reader, talks of wine

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Redwyne!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

When you were ten, your father was named to King Viserys’ small council. As the younger brother of Lord Redwyne, nobody had anticipated the idea that he would have much more influence than a prominent land owner. So when King Viserys asked him to come to King’s Landing and serve in a new position dedicated to agriculture, he accepted immediately and brought you in hopes of securing your future.

That is how you met the young Prince Aemond. He was not much older than you, a year at most. At the time, he was still recovering from the Driftmark Incident as the servants in the castle called it. There had been no hope for saving his eye, and so he was relearning to do everything.

Aemond Targaryen was smitten with you from the beginning. His mother had originally had to argue with him to meet you, as he was the closest person in age to you and perhaps in you he would find a friend. He had never been too fond of people, losing his eye doing nothing to help that. Yet, he had never been more grateful for his mother’s insistence than when he saw you.

It was only you and your father, your mother having died a few years prior. And Aemond’s singular eye focused on you exiting the carriage, much too distracted by discussing a book with your father to notice the Royal Family had come to greet you. When you finally did, your eyes widened, stuttering and stammering apologies about your rudeness.

“Please never apologize for your passions,” he spoke quickly. A bit too quickly, perhaps, as he thought about how that may have been the place of his father or even his mother. But already you had enraptured him and he would not make any apologies for that.

In the days and months following, his mother had arranged with your father that you and Aemond become companions. Unbeknownst to you, a promise had been made. Your father allow her son to be by your side and you would marry a prince.

All you cared about was having a friend. You had expected King’s Landing to feel rather lonely. You left behind cousins and friends in The Arbor. And while knowing that the King and Queen had four children, you had been under the assumption you would be kept separate. So, when your lessons with the Septa were held with Aemond, you were equally surprised and grateful.

Over the years, Aemond’s affections for you only grew. He loved spending time with you, requiring his every waking moment be spent with you. As you grew older and the need for propriety became an issue, he was more than happy to have Ser Criston or even one of the Cargyll twins to accompany the two of you. It didn’t matter to him what you did or who was around. If he had you, he was happy.

You had been in King’s Landing for six years when you were formally betrothed to Aemond, to be married within a moon of your eighteenth birthday. It took you by complete surprise. It made sense, you supposed. If you looked back on the years, you could see how your friendship with Aemond was considered a courtship. He was ecstatic at the news, you were neutral.

It wasn’t a bad idea. Aemond seemed to truly care for you. You knew if your marriage had to be political, better it be to a man such as Aemond. He was good and kind to you, handsome if you were asked to give your opinion. You did not mind his scar or the eyepatch he wore.

Aemond was only slightly disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm at your impending marriage. He figured it was nerves. Coming from a noble house but not being the daughter of its Lord may have caused them when you were presented with such an advantageous marriage. Or perhaps you were so overcome with joy that you were merely struck speechless. He did not mind either way.

It was on your eighteenth birthday that he learned the love he bore you was one sided. He had overheard you speaking to his mother as she gave you a gift. It was a piece of jewelry her mother had once owned, given to you as a way to welcome you. You attempted to deny it. And at her insistence, you confessed why.

“Aemond will be a good husband, but I do not love him. It would feel wrong to accept such a beautiful heirloom as such,” you had explained shyly.

“Dear girl, you marriage may not be one of love, but you are still joining my family. And you are someone familiar with my home, the home my children may never get to see. Perhaps in this, you can feel connected to our home and teach your children of it,” she explained, placing the necklace around your neck.

Despite the ache in his chest that you did not feel for him what he felt for you, he was not any less determined. He loved you. That would not change.

The day before your wedding, he approached you. You had been so busy in the last week, making final preparations for the day. You were nervous now. It was obvious when he saw you. And despite the fact you did not love him, he knew you still considered him your friend.

“Come with me, my love,” he said softly to you, a book in hand.

Since your betrothal, little pet names are all he called you. You never minded. In fact, you quite enjoyed it. You enjoyed the knowledge that every member of court who thought Aemond was cold could see that he adored you. It may have been wrong, but you felt so powerful in knowing a man such as he could be weak only for you. Perhaps that was why you never made a fuss. You were lucky, luckier than most, in having your intended so dedicated and devoted to you.

“Where are we going?” you asked him as he began to lead you down the corridor.

He brought you to the weirwood tree. It was often a good place for the two of you to catch a moment of peace. A guardsman would stand at the entrance to the gardens and pay little mind to the small touches Aemond let linger over you. Here, you felt safe and connected to your roots. Here, you felt as though you and Aemond truly were friends.

He sat on the ground, offering you a hand for assistance for sitting gracefully. He knew you were not one of grace, but he thought it cute that you were as coordinated as a newborn lamb. And you were ever so grateful for that fact.

“Lay your head in my lap and I shall read to you,” he told you quietly.

You were relieved to have this small moment of reprieve from the stresses of planning an event as grand as this. You had been coordinating with your uncle for the wine for the wedding, with Lord Tyrell for extra grains so that you may have your sweets, with many bards throughout the kingdoms to find one to play their music. The Queen and your father took some of the organizing off your shoulders, of course, but you needed this to be perfect.

And so, you laid your head in his lap. He stroked your hair with one hand as he held the book with the other, his deep voice reading the words of a love story to you. You looked up at him. He was truly handsome. The angles of his jawline and his prominent nose made goose pimples rise across your skin. His lilac eye was focused on the page and not you, but it soothed you nonetheless. And his hair…you could not wait until you were married so as to be able to openly touch it.

“You are staring awfully hard, darling. Do I have something on my face?” he asked, his eye flickering from the page to you.

“Remove it,” you whispered.

“We have been over this,” he said quietly. This conversation was the only time he ever seemed cross with you. His jaw clenched every time.

“Yes, I am aware you stated not before we were wed. But it is tomorrow. And I wait to gaze upon the entirety of my husband before I am bound to him before the gods,” you told him, offering a coy smirk.

“If you wish to gaze upon the entirety of me, might I suggest we move to my chambers?” he asked with his own smirk.

You could not help but laugh. He felt comfortable enough with you to laugh, joke, and tease. You were grateful that you could grant him this existence.

“Please, Aemond. How can you expect me to marry you and partake in what is to come if you do not trust me enough to show me you?” you asked him quietly. He knew you spoke of the wedding ceremony that was to be held, and how you feared it, but you had assured him you would do it for him.

You could see how jaw clench again, his nostrils flaring slightly. You had always felt the liberty to argue against him. It was one of the things he loved about you, how you forgot what was expected of you to speak your mind.

But finally, his hand withdrew from your hair as he placed the book aside. Perhaps you had spoken too freely and finally he was getting angry with you. Instead, his hands reached behind his own head.

He had the strap unfastened yet did not remove it. He looked to you. A genuine fear could be seen on his face.

“And if you decide it is too disgusting to gaze upon? What shall I be expected to do then?” he asked you in a quiet voice.

“It would not dissuade me from marrying you,” she told him. It was true, in equal parts because you knew there was no chance of that changing now and the fact you knew you were lucky to be marrying a man such as this. “Though I suppose I would order a bag be kept over your head. Or perhaps only approach you in dark rooms.”

It was a tease, you both knew it. But he was still worried about how much truth hung in your words. He didn’t want you to be disgusted by him.

Seeing how uneasy Aemond still was, you reached up and placed your hand on his. “You love me?” you asked him quietly.

“I could never choose to love another,” Aemond said quickly to you, confirming to you what you already knew.

“Then have faith in me that I will not turn or cower. Have faith in me that I want this marriage, this life, with you,” you told him gently as you began to slowly pull your hand away, bringing his along.

He allowed his hands to be removed, holding the eyepatch in them. The piece of leather had made its indention in his skin from being fastened too tightly. Your eyes then focused on the dazzling blue sapphire that had been secured in the socket.

Aemond noticed how your gaze softened, your entire body going lax. He began to quickly attempt to hide himself, feeling flustered as his pale skin flooded red. A panic built up in him.

“No,” you whispered, taking hold of his hands again. “Please. Do not hide this beauty from me. If you wish to wear it in public, I will stand by that decision. But it would do me a great disservice if you hid away such art when we are alone.”

Your wedding was perfect, if Aemond had any opinion on it. Your hard work had paid off tenfold. Every guest had enjoyed the feast after you were bound to Aemond. It felt like your greatest accomplishment, proving you were up to this insurmountable task of marrying a prince.

When all the Lords were too overtaken by their food and drink to notice, Aemond took your hand and led you away from the main hall. For a moment, you worried about how it would look if you were to be seen alone together. Then you remembered you were now married and felt relieved, albeit a little stupid.

“Where are we going? We will be missed,” you said, giggling a bit as you followed close behind him.

“Most are too drunk to remember they have toes, I doubt we will be missed too much,” he assured you.

You followed him in silence. It was sweet, you thought, that he was eager to finally have a true moment alone with him. He allowed himself to be soft with you, something you adored. It allowed an ease to be felt between the two of you.

The two of you trekked through the entirety of the Keep. Upstairs, downstairs, around corners, and through doorways you didn’t know existed. Then he brought you through a last doorway that lead into one of the apartments that you had never before been in.

It was a room almost too grand to imagine. It was filled with an inexplicable warmth you had missed since first coming to King’s Landing. The furniture was the standard styles of all the Keep’s furniture, being obviously expensive and well crafted. What caught your eye was the subtleties of it.

Grape vines had been made to grow so that they hung over the windows. You could smell the salty sea water of Blackwater Bay with every small gust of wind. A bowl of peaches laid on the bedside table. The duvet on the bed was a deep burgundy as though it were made from the sweetest wine.

“It occurred to me that you have not returned home since you arrived,” Aemond’s voice entered your ears.

You had been too busy looking over everything to remember his existence. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were keeping and tears flooded to your eyes. The room felt exactly like how you remembered The Arbor.

He lead you to the windows, holding your waist with one hand. He kept you on his right side, his good side, as he did so. He looked down at you as you looked up to him.

“Part of your wedding gift is that I have ensured there will be no bedding ceremony,” he whispered while placing his hand on your chin.

“Aemond, I…there are no words,” you stammered out, as your eyes widened. There was no way you could imagine how it was possible. It was expected of royalty.

“Your other part, is this,” he told you. With a gentle grip, he turned your face outwards before removing his touch.

It was beautiful. The night sky littered with stars, the Bay extending into the horizon, forgetting the existence of the land that it was meant to wash away. Lights flickering had dotted the landscape.

“I fear I do not understand,” you whispered, looking to him confused. You realized he had taken his eyepatch off while you weren’t paying attention. Once again your breath was taken from you.

He looked from the beauty of the night to you. You were his own private beauty, one that he would get to keep for his entire life.

“I know you do not love me,” he told you, shaking his head when you began to say something. “No, no, I understand. And it does not deter me from loving you every moment of my life.”

“I want to love you,” you whispered breathlessly.

“It is okay if you do not. But my gift to you is a promise,” he said, his fingers running along your jawline. “I am the second son of a king who cannot remember how to chew his food, let alone care for his family. I have never held any lands, nor have I ever proved myself in battle. But my heart and soul are yours. We can go wherever you wish. I will build you a castle from the ground to the stars with nothing but my hands if you asked me to. I promise you I will spend every breath giving you every star. I will give you my entirety.”

You didn’t look away from him. Your heart was pounding against your chest, every moment feeling like you were seconds away from crying. Whenever you thought of love and devotion, this was what you thought of. He was willing to set the world on fire for you even without the promise of love.

“Maybe I could learn to love you, too.”

[kolsmikaelson]

— AEMOND TARGARYEN NSFW ALPHABET

NOTES — i’m sure this has been done but i personally haven’t read one for aemond so here we are :) this is completely canon aemond (as in non au aem) and if not it’s specified

WARNINGS — 18+ nsfw content, fem!reader, not proofread, mentions of canon typical incest

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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

doesn’t really know what aftercare is but is so in love with you he’ll do anything you ask of him. whether it be run you a bath or just hold you for a while he doesn’t mind either way.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

idk if this counts as a body part exactly but his hair. aemond doesn’t love his appearance but his hair is something that he’s truly proud of and he loves it! but he loves your smile and your tits. he loves making sly little comments to see your smile and the feeling he gets when he sees a necklace he’d gifted you resting just above your cleavage is unexplainable

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

loves it when you cum all over his face. he’ll eat you out for hours on end just to have your cum smeared all over the lower half of his face

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

like the nasty mf he is, he’s fantasized of sharing you with someone else. whether that be aegon, jace or even daemon he just loves the idea taking you apart like that and knowing that at the end of the day you’re all his

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

not very experienced. after the, incident, with aegon when he was younger he vowed to save himself for whomever he married. he was happy to have his firsts (or most of) with you. it was worth the wait in his mind

F = Favorite position ( goes without saying)

whenever you’re riding him. he loves the easy access to your clit and your tits, groping and sucking on them any chance he gets

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

if we’re talking canon aemond, he’s very serious. he takes it as a way to show his love but also his dominance in a way. but if we’re talking modern!aemond, he’s mostly goofy. he just loves fucking you no matter what the circumstances are

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

not groomed well at all, he’s got a full on bush

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

it depends on the circumstances. if he were jealous, it’s all teeth clashing and hips snapping against yours but if it were your wedding night for instance, he’s slow and loving and sweet

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

never did it much, he didn’t see the appeal. he wasn’t usually attracted to any of the women he’d see around but once he met you it was like he couldn’t catch up on all those years that he’d missed before meeting you

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

choking is one of his big ones. and size kink is another

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

in the shadows in the hallways, he loves the thrill he gets knowing you could get caught. and he swears that you cum harder then rather than when you’re in your shared chambers

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

the sight of you wearing any jewelry he’s gifted you, or you using any gift he’s gotten you as well. you doing the little things for him, brushing his hair, braiding it at night, gently taking his eyepatch off

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i don’t think theres much he wouldn’t try at least one time if you wanted to, but no piss kink. it grosses him out and he wants nothing to do with it

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

prefers giving! he gets plenty of pleasure just from pleasing you and if he does get a blowjob he’ll be happy but if not it doesn’t bother him too much

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast and rough, usually. but if you’re alone in your chambers for the night, he’ll take his sweet time tearing you apart

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

kind of obsessed with them, he loves fucking you in the hallways so it kind of has to be quick

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

decently into taking risks, just nothing that’ll hurt you too much or leave any lasting marks on your body

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he lasts a decent amount of time, but he’s hard and ready to go again quickly

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

canon aemond isn’t very into the idea of something else other than him giving you pleasure, that’s his job. but modern aemond? whew that’s a different story

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

aemond doesn’t really tease you too much, but he likes it when you tease him, although he’d never admit it

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not too loud, he mostly grunts and groans. trying to keep it down so that he can hear your moans rather than his own

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

some days he prefers you taking charge and babying him, he feels such a weight taken off his shoulders knowing you’re there for him

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he’s hung, like it’s fucking huge

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

higher than you’d expected, but just above average

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he forces himself to stay awake until he hears your soft snores, he doesn’t like going to sleep knowing you’re still awake

© kolsmikaelson : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

[nalyniavadelletargaryen]

{ TWIN FLAME - Aegon Targaryen + Rhaegar Targaryen }

{ SUMMARY/PREVIEW CHAPTER }: Twins carry a shared soul, a force that only exists between them. One may pull, and the other may push, but by fate's hand, they’ve been conjoined by a shared will for power. The elder strays from the path of morality while the younger strides upon it with just as much pride. Both men share a desire: an attraction to what they are forbidden to have.

{ WARNINGS }: MDNI + SMUT + ANGST + TARGCEST + AGE GAP + BLOOD + LANGUAGE + VIOLENCE + NIECE/FEM READER + MATURE THEMES

{ PRESS ▶️}:

"To war then!"

Aegon's voice rang loud and clear through the council room, setting unease on those who sat on either side of him, but one man remained unmoved by his heady announcement.

Rhaegar smirked, a broad amusement in his expression, "Good..."

The two men share a fulfilled grin; the elder is pleased to see his dark-haired half so encouraged by his decision.

They'd never agree on most things, but inciting rightful violence to achieve personal satisfaction was a common interest.

However, you were another exception to their differing worldviews.

Aegon slid down into his chair, glancing away from his second younger brother to eye the men and his mother, who sat in tense silence. "You are all dismissed..." he left no room for debate on the command. Alicent swallowed hard, holding back the words of wisdom she knew neither man would listen to, and with a slow exhale, her anger dwindled to plain discouragement.

Rhaegar did not shrink under her turning gaze. Unmoved by her silent plea for help, he was firmly comfortable in his seat as she and the rest of his brother's councils rose from their seats.

"Arrogance.." she mumbled bitterly, walking past him with a swiftness he and Aegon had learned to overlook.

"They refuse to act and fear a war that's already started," Rhaegar spoke freely when the last council member had stepped out, the doors to the room slammed shut by the king guard on watch, and a moment of shared silence short-lived between them. Aegon scoffed loudly, a smirk plastered on his face, "That's quite obvious, brother. Our mother intends to be timid about bloodshed. It's quite pathetic." He tossed his hands up in apparent disbelief, shaking his head at the thought of the woman who'd so proudly pushed him to be sovereign now seeking a quick end to a great conflict, and Rhaegar shared his disdain for the anomaly that was their mother.

"She'd sooner trust the gods with our fate than be reasonable. I don't see why you keep her at this table.."

Aegon eyed his twin, his face dropping to a callous frown. "As relieving as it would be to put her aside, you know well how our mother would never cease prying into our dealings with or without permission."

A more accurate statement had never left his elder brother's lips, and Rhaegar was impressed by him for a solemn second.

"Hm. It's surprising to hear you, of all people, see my side of reason." He chuckles, taking a brave gulp from his wine chalice. "Need better spirits at a time like this," the brunette bit out, tongue-numbing from the dull sting of alcohol in the wine, and his observation drew an offended reaction from Aegon

"It's the best drink to my taste." His amusement faded quickly on the premise of his preferences being questioned. "Do you take issue with me-"

Rhaegar laughed, a hearty sound that eliminated anything his twin was apt to spit out, "Oh, don't you dare twist my words, brother!" He set his cup down with a firm shake, grinning wide as Aegon glared at him directly.

"You speak too freely, Rhaegar.."

His laughter halted, grin falling to a closed smile as he relaxed into his chair at the end of the unoccupied table, "I speak what I think, Aeg. Which is much more than you can offer..."

The silence returned, filled with mounting animosity between a brother of pride and another of worthy praise.

A king and a warlord.

A rake and a hidden saint.

Made of one blood but with many contrasts in life.

Silence and lingering hate connected them.

Aegon poised to further it with a heady retort, greedy for triumph in a conflict many knew to be brotherly rivalry, but a solid rap of knocking on the closed council doors stopped him.

Rhaegar raised a brow at the sound, intrigued rather than annoyed as his brother seemed to be.

"They've come back for another debate so soon?" He chides out loud, unbothered by Aegon's grimace.

"Bothersome imbeciles..."

The knocking came again, quicker and louder. Each tap was executed with an exciting pace, different from the slow, solid thumps of a man readied to spill his thoughts on warfare.

Aegon hesitated to allow the visitor entry, glancing at his brother, who already had his eyes on him.

"They seem eager.." he mumbles, finishing his wine without care for his brother's exasperated sigh.

"Enter..!" Aegon announced, taking a gulp of his drink and sucking his teeth at the bitter taste.

The king's guards swung the doors open, nodding their heads to the culprit of the sudden interruption. "Thank you, Ser Lanis and Ser Daleon." Your gentle voice cut through the air in a familiar cadence, alerting the two men of your presence before you came into their direct view.

Both knights showed you a grateful smile, quick to shut the doors again as you paced up the steps leading to the nearly empty table. Rhaegar greeted you first, smiling as he reached a hand for your own. You gave him the courtesy, slipping a hand into his open one, returning his smile as he placed a chaste kiss on the back.

"Niece..." he muttered against your skin, his voice tender and hardened eyes softening completely as you swipe your fingers along his jawline affectionately. "Uncle," you greet him back, chest tightening with pure delight when he chuckles upon hearing it. However, your shared moment abruptly ended as Aegon called you.

"You'd leave your King unnoticed, sweet girl?"

He did not attempt to mask his jealousy, and you yelled at it with practiced grace. "No, my King. You'll always have my attention." You show him a smile, not afraid to roll your eyes at him as you step away from Rhaegar and stride towards him.

Aegon is far less cordial when greeting you, standing from his seat to look down as you bow to him. You are respectful in your initial approach and stand up straight when he rests a hand under your chin. "I'll hold you to that, princess," he lowered his voice as if to tell you a secret, and you merely hum sweetly in response, accepting the lingering kiss he placed on your cheek. Unlike his brother, Rhaegar could hold his tongue to some restraint, seeing you receive affection from his counterpart.

However, it did not last long as Aegon stepped closer to you, clearly set on keeping your attention on him and him alone.

"Why have you come here?.." Rhaegar poised the question in earnest curiosity, satisfied to see it gain your focus and ruin his brother's apparent intentions. You shifted away from your eldest uncle, looking between him and his nearly identical half before divulging why you'd found your way into the council room.

You never seemed to stay away from either of them long enough, with little motivation not to when your mother had urged you to do so longer than you could recall. By consequence, you'd been left in their care at the turn of your grandfather's death, present at his side the night before he took his last breath in hopes of keeping him company since your mother could not manage it. Still, with little warning, you'd found yourself in opposition with your closest kin by association.

You found your position to be a cursed blessing. I'm glad to be within reach of the men you cared about most besides your older brothers; you were highly aware of the danger the nearing conflict of birthright claims would surely bring.

You tried hard not to reminisce about the war's aftermath, keeping yourself observant yet pliable in the grip of the Green faction.

Even as you stood in the presence of the men you'd grown to trust despite all outside protests, their very existence reminded you of fate's tricky hand.

"I've come for your help." You tread carefully with words, pacing them to carry on your voice softly, knowing well what a simple change of tone could do to either man. Rhaegar sat up straighter, eyes never leaving you as he inquired for a better understanding of your intended words.

"Our aid for what, ..?" You paused, hearing the doting nickname he'd chosen to call you since your first encounter, resolve to melt a little as he followed it with a reassuring smile.

Feeling Aegon resting a hand on your lower back did not keep your heart racing slower, his firming touch stealing your train of thought for a split second, but one glimpse at the head seat he'd been sitting in only a moment ago brought your sense back to you.

They had been your weakness for far too long, filling a craving for experience and attention you couldn't satisfy in your mother's household, but now the time for a stronger mindset was needed.

Your mother deserved the seat Aegon so proudly claimed now; no matter your love for him and Rhaegar, you intended to see her in it, and with a steadying inhale, you continued with your mission to do so.

"I've been...having some trouble finding peace as of late. Especially at night, the masters can't find a remedy for my issue.."

Sleep. You hadn't been able to rest since the coronation, and it was no help that both men had made it a point to create boundaries with you that hadn't existed before. You'd grown accustomed to seeking one or both out for a good night of sleep, never having to exchange any flesh for the security they provided, but not above laying your head on their pillow to dream of it.

Aegon smiled at you, his hand on your back sliding in a small circle as if to ease your strife as minimal as it seemed to him, and you flashed him a grateful upturn of your lips in return.

"I...I had hoped that either of you would give me peace of mind. I'm aware of many things but still am left in the dark in the light of the most important knowledge."

Your heart sank as the faces of your brothers, mother, and father crept past the forefront of your mind. Every single one of them dawned an expression of distant concern, so clearly betrayed. Imagine their reaction to the news of your lingering presence with the side of the family who had no right to the throne, which made your stomach twist with knots.

You wanted to get back to them, to be beneficial even if they'd never considered acknowledging you as applicable. Yet, as you implemented a plan to find your way back to them, you couldn't feel entirely confident in their presumable welcome when you did return.

Jace might be the only one who'd be genuinely happy to see you again and not hold a dormant grudge towards you for staying at the late King's side and inevitably supplanting yourself as a hostage for the Greens.

Rhaegar studied you, sensitive to the minor details of your request, discerning every word you spoke on instinct to hang onto each one.

"You wish to know of your place in..." he waved a hand, motioning to the air of war that loomed closer and closer with each passing day, and you nodded tentatively at his gesture. "Yes...or at least if I'm to be used as leverage..."

Your blunt reply cuts through both of them differently. Aegon glares, momentary anger consuming him as he inches closer to you, head lowering so that his voice reaches your ear directly. "You are safe with me. Here in my..." he hesitated, meeting Rhaegar's observatory gaze before finishing his quiet declaration, "...in our protection. That I can swear to you with certainty ."

His noticeable overconfidence peaked through his tone, and your anxiety was anything but calmed by his promise. Your chest lightened from relief, knowing he still harbored adamant devotion to your well-being rather than wishing to use it as an advantage over your mother.

Rhaegar held a similar attachment to you, expressing it with less egoism than Aegon did through an even response. "Our opinion of you has not changed. You shall be kept here in fair respect."

He stood from his chair, leaving his chalice with it as he came to stand on your unattended side.

Your gaze automatically shifted to him, struggling to stay there as Aegon's burned into you with unabashed envy. "You have the King's word and mine," he passed a thumb over your cheek, speaking directly to you as if his brother did not exist inches from you just as he did. Your breath caught in your throat, heat rising to your face and spreading to your lower belly as he took his time gauging your reaction.

"Let that be the answer to your questions. War plans are nothing for a young girl like yourself to be concerned with, understood?"

Rhaegar pressed you into submission with a tailored ease, pairing the underlying demand with a lazy smile that never failed to make your head spin. You bit back your own, nails digging into the draped sleeves of your dress as you clasped your hands behind you.

Of course, he'd seen right through you, cut off your prying for knowledge like any intuitive man of his nature would, and you desperately wanted to push past the restrictions he intended to set up. Still, the possibility of appearing too apt for valuable information made you hold your tongue.

You swallowed the pride, bubbling up to spill from your lips, pressing them into a small smile as you nodded in agreement. "I understand, uncle."

Rhaegar hummed in satisfaction, not bothered by his brother's palpable disdain. "She knows better than to ask us for such details, brother. You needn't mold her to be compliant." Aegon tugged you closer to him, hugging your side and making no move to let go.

You went still in his embrace, familiar with it, but not all pleased with how he spoke of your intentions or concerns.

Stupidity and obliviousness were never your strong suits, and having been pushed to the side and ignored by so many throughout your life made it easy for you to play on those faults better than most.

Rhaegar had grown wiser to your act sooner than Aegon, mentioning nothing of your love for secrets and manipulation to anyone in the simple efforts to bring you to heel at the direst times.

This was the perfect opportunity, and if his all-powerful brother could realize your intentions too, he could have the chance to relish in the delight Rhaegar did seeing your innocent facade falter. Aegon remained unwise to it, resting his chin on your shoulder after placing a ginger kiss on the exposed skin as a wordless apology for his younger's implication.

"No soul in this castle is out to get my throne, Rhaegar. Not my darling girl, anyway..." You shuddered against him as he kissed behind your ear, feeling the smile on his lips as he hugged you tighter. A blush painted your cheeks as his hands kneaded your waist through the fabric of your dress. This openly lustful action brought butterflies to your stomach and agitated Rhaegar to the point of impulsivity.

"Pawing at your niece is unbecoming of you, brother..." he made no effort to mince his words, mirroring Aegon's glare as you lowered your head in slight embarrassment. "She has yet to tell me to stop. It seems to bother you more than it does her..." Aegon chuckled at his blatant mocking, nipping at your ear to earn a soft whine and solidly his claim.

Rhaegar held his stare, failing to withhold an equally rousing laugh before lowering his head to meet yours. He found your eyes with his own as he spoke to you softly.

"Come to me.."

He says it only once, and you react with little thought, longing to feel him like Aegon held you. Your body shifted toward him, one step eliminating the space he'd maintained, and your lips found him with little hesitation or shame. Aegon grunted a scathing curse as you reached for his dark-haired twin, leaning back into him as the younger wrapped a hand around your throat, deepening the kiss with the slip of his tongue into your mouth. Rhaegar peered at his brother as you moaned against his lips, a smirk tugging at him the entire time.

"Bastard..." Aegon grumbled, refusing to show the shreds of amusement he felt seeing you crumble at the simplest pleasures, drooling trickling down your chin, and your weight pressing against him as the emanates of sense left you. It came as no surprise to Rhaegar when the older raised a hand to tangle in your hair, pulling on it so you had no choice but to break away from the heated kiss and his low whine of pain.

You let out shallow breaths, afraid to look into either of their eyes as you tried to compose yourself and ignore the needy warmth culminating in your belly. Aegon turned your head to him with subtle force, taking in the dazed expression on your face, the gradual swell of your plush lips, and the gloss of combined spit that lingered on them.

"Open." He commands in one breath, smiling when you do just as he asks and part your lips for him. He steals a glance at Rhaegar, smug as ever, and spits into your mouth with natural ease, turning his gaze back to you as it slides down your throat with a quiet whimper of his name. His lips come to meet your then, slow and harsh. A complete contrast to his brother's swift and sweet approach. He bites at your bottom lip, drowning in the muffled groan you give at the blooming pain he inflicts, returning it with a timid nip on his.

Your lungs burn for a breath. Aegon won't let you catch, so you peek at Rhaegar for help. You are torn between gratitude and confusion as he tightens his grip on your throat before using it to pull your lips away from his brothers and back to his.

He lets you go when your eyes water with tears, allowing Aegon to turn you around in his arms and hug you close. "It's been some time since we shared you, little one..."

It's a statement. It is a clear fact that you have no will to deny. Too lost in your head to respond appropriately or notice Rhaegar sitting in the nearest council chair. He lounges in it leisurely, head resting on one hand as he watches Aegon's hands begin unlacing your dress strings with unconscious finesse. You find your bearings then, feeling increasingly vulnerable as the eldest of them unties your bodice and steps forward until you have no choice but to be within his twin's reach.

"You've been so faithful and well-behaved for us, too. We'd hate to see you left unrewarded for that. Wouldn't we, brother?" Aegon eyed the brunette over your shoulder; a bittersweet smirk reflected as he nodded in agreement. "Wouldn't be very fair to her at all..." he speaks lowly compared to his brother's boastful tone, deeply embedded in his desires at the sight of your bare skin being exposed to him as your bodice slips to the stone floor.

You shiver as the air douses your skin, breasts pressed to Aegon's clothed chest, and the warmth he emits prompts them to be sensitive and pertinent. His hands find your sides again, steadying you in his hold while Rhaegar rips the fabric of your skirts. He does the same to your small clothes, letting them fall atop the torn clothing. "Wouldn't be very fair to us either."

A/N: A cliffhanger on a smut?... yeah, I know. I'm sorry, but I must lead you guys on before giving you the complete filth of it all...

{ BONUS CONTENT + }

Credits to creator and I literally watch this edit on repeat …it’s so fucking good ;) 🖤

[ffsg0jo]

�� his golden spear ��

character: dreamer!gojo × fem!reader (reader is poc/south asian coded but barely any mentions of physical features except nipples)

warnings: jjk × asoiaf , self-harm , madness , reader is from house martell , does NOT follow asoif canon everything is very vague/only minor references/not in timeline order , mentions of eye-gouging , mentions of death , ooc gojo , mentions of whores , reader has brown nipples urm i can't think of anything else , lowkey insta-love ish , some parts are disjointed on purpose , they dont know that hes a dreamer btw they just think hes batshit crazy , NO SPOILERS !!

w/c: 3.4k ish

a/n: this was written while i was sleep deprived and delirious, so read it with a handful of salt. it's been plaguing my mind, though, and i had to write it. it's also a lot longer than initially anticipated, so i hope you all enjoy it <33 all credits go to @sweetmelodygraphics for the dividers !!

fics4gaza :: jjk masterlist

Satoru was losing his mind. He's been having visions for the entirety of his life, vivid visions about the past, present, and future. At first, he thought nothing of them, being young and playing them off as his wild imagination or whimsical dreams. But when some were proven to ring true, fear struck through his heart.

His own mother's passing an example of it. 

He could barely make sense of some, and others were so clear-cut they felt like memories. But regardless, the sense of impending doom never left his body. The visions, as of late, had only been getting worse, distorting his sight.

It was strange. Sometimes, he'd go weeks without dreaming only to be suffocated by an onslaught of nonsensical dreams, seeing them whilst he was awake too, rendered unable to distinguish reality from his debilitating hallucinations. His head constantly throbbed and ached, and he's wracked with crippling nausea more often than not. 

Overwhelmed and overstimulated, Satoru feels like plucking his hairs out one by one. He doesn't know what to do with himself, his body on autopilot, dissociating when it gets too much for him. 

In writing down his visions, Satoru thought he could begin to make sense of them, maybe try and figure out patterns, but they only served to confuse him more. Hurt his head more, and suddenly, he found himself subconsciously scribbling images into the air, without a quill or parchment in his hand. Others around him started to whisper of his condition. Targaryen madness, they’d say, sending him pitiful glances.

He so desperately wanted answers and respite, starting and ending his days in tears, but his madness overtook him.

His visions, dreams, whatever the hell they blurred into real life, and he felt like he was losing his grip on reality. He saw his hands dissolving before his very eyes. It's true what they say about Targaryens. When one is born, a coin is tossed, and the whole world holds its breath. Greatness or insanity. 

Insanity ran through his dragon blood. 

He sees the decapitated heads of the three-headed dragon, meticulously being sewed back on with a golden spear and red thread. He saw his dragon, Vermithor, grazing on sheep in fields, burning bright orange. A snake, wrapping around his arm and squeezing him tight. He will see a hand reaching towards him, a shiny ring adorning each finger, a soft laugh reverberating through his ears.  

The laughter echoed in his head ever since. He heard it almost all day and night now. A brief respite only when he clamped his head tight between his hands.

His ears are permanently scratched and raw. 

The world strangely seemed to take a golden hue, and he felt like all the colours blur into one, and he could no longer tell them apart. He became breathless when his usually white hair turned red, his brilliant cerulean eyes, gold. The red bleeding through the gold, into orange, dripping down his skin.

He was trying to gouge his eyes out. He brought the valyrian steel dagger up to his face, and just as he was about to cut the stupid things out, the Lord Commander sworn to his father, disarmed him, tackling him to the ground. Satoru kicked and screamed and sobbed. He wanted the visions to end, he wished to see no longer. 

The small scar on the apple of his left cheek serves as a sorry reminder.

In attempts to subdue the noise ringing in his head and the visions blurring his sight (as well as any further attempts of Satoru harming himself), the blackest of black materials was tied tight around his head. With his ears sufficiently muffled, and his eyes bathed in darkness, he felt like he could breathe. 

It helped. He felt somewhat calm for the first time in years. 

Despite the cloth tied around his eyes, Satoru could still strangely see. Whilst it wasn’t as clear as before, he could still make out figures and shapes, and if someone was standing close enough, their faces. His good friend Lord Suguru had tried the cloth and was completely blinded, so it was odd that Satoru could see through it. Still, with his vision limited, he felt safe from his own mind, and it wasn’t the strangest thing about Satoru at all. Not by a thousand miles.

On occasion, his visions would come back, pain shooting through his spine, and nothing in the world could stop them. Definitely not the flimsy cloth tied around his head. In those times, he had to be restrained and constantly watched by guards, lest he pour scalding molten lead into his eyes and ears.

The Mad Heir is what they called him. A laughable name you thought when you first heard of the proposal that was brought to you and your father. You felt insulted. 

Satoru of House Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, Heir to The Iron Throne. 

The Mad Heir to The Iron Throne. 

How dare they offer you, a ruling Princess and Heir in your own right, a mad Prince. Marriages were rarely happy, oft filled with malcontent. The sanest of men mistreated their lady wives and what of mad men? You could hold your own, of that you were sure, but you did not want to go into a marriage fearing your life. You truly did want love to blossom in your union at some point, regardless of what seed sowed it. 

But if an alliance was to be forged, to unite the Seven Kingdoms, and strengthen your house, then you were to meet in a little more than a moons time. You had little choice, your father pleaded and was adamant that you met the Prince at the very least. Begrudgingly, you accepted. 

Packed and ready to set off, you mentally prepared for the long journey via ship. Maybe you'd get to see a dragon or two, you reconciled, forever curious about the wonderful beasts.

A marriage. That was exactly what Satoru needed. Another problem to add to his heaping pile of problematic problems. He did not understand why he had to get married. He was young, only one and twenty. He hadn't even had the opportunity to sample the whores of Flea Bottom yet. 

Not that he had any interest in whores to be completely transparent. Between his debilitating madness and constant training, lessons, and attending small court, Satoru barely had time to breathe. 

With his father's refusal to take another wife after his own mother passed came the incessant shoving of Satoru to marry his own.

He knew he was being stubborn; he knew realistically that if he did not breed, then the Targaryen line would end with him. If he had at least one or two children, if he was to pass before his time (which was looking very likely), then at least they'd inherit the throne. 

But Satoru was adamant that the Targaryen line would not end. He'd seen it in a vision, clear as day. A girl with long white hair and blue eyes that mirrored his own, sitting peacefully in flames with three dragons circling her. 

He consulted every single history book he had access to, and whilst they mentioned Targaryens being resistant to fire, there was no mention of a girl with three newly hatched dragons bathing in flames. To have one hatchling is considered a blessing many Targaryens are not fortunate to have, but to have hatched three? Almost impossible. With the lack of documentation, Satoru figured it must have been the future he saw. 

Though there was something in his gut telling him to meet with the Princess he was to wed. And whilst he was plagued with madness, Satoru wholeheartedly trusted his intuition. He knew there'd be something to gain from the meeting, but he didn't know what just yet. Maybe an answer to his dreams? Unlikely, but tugging in his gut wouldn’t cease.

In less than half a moons time, he was to meet his potential future wife and Queen. And for once, he wished he'd receive a clear vision of what his future was to be.

Stares followed you as you walked through the courtyard of the Royal Court, having finally, after a month of travelling, reached King’s Landing. Some curious, others leering, you did not have the energy to pay them any more mind. To be frank, you were exhausted, not faring too well with weeks at sea. You wanted to soak in a warm bath and sleep in a real bed. If you hadn’t been so tired, you might’ve met their stares with a glare.

You knew why they were so ‘fascinated’ by you. You did not look like the noblewomen they were used to seeing. The burnt orange chiffon that covered your body was almost see-through, and if one was to look, really pay attention, they could see the brown of your nipples. A generous amount of your cleavage was on show, half covered by the red material draped around one side of your body and tucked into your arm.  

A golden necklace, studded with amber stones, adorned your neck, with matching earrings, and a gold headband fixed just on top of your hairline. Your hair was free and unbound, unlike the ladies of court around you, who had their hair twisted into intricate braids.

Your mother, the Princess of Dorne, and your father were both bathed in similar colours, albeit a little more conservatively. Together, you were a blazing sight, embodying your house motto; unbowed, unbent, unbroken.

Your Royal convoy was met by the King and his Lords, who bowed and kissed your mother’s hand and warmly greeted your father. You bowed to the King, politely thanking him for his hospitality, and he responded to your words with a warm, familiar smile.

His son, the Prince, was nowhere to be seen. And although many might have been offended, you paid it no mind. As the Heir to Dorne, you knew very well just how busy his schedule could be. And in truth, you were nervous, wanting to stall your meeting as much as possible.

The maids led you to your room and had preemptively set up a warm bath for you to soak in, and you graciously thanked them. Your own personal maids took the liberty to add milk and honey to the warm water. Thanking them all once again, you dismissed them, wanting to bathe in peace.

You do not know how long you spent in the bath, lost in your thoughts. The water was now less than lukewarm, and your fingers had pruned up.

Whilst your body had been soothed and relaxed, your mind was far from. You had heard whispers about the Prince’s striking beauty, the magnificent blue of his eyes. Yet you still feared, usually the pretty ones had the worst personalities and egos in your experience. You had tried to ask the maids, but all they said was that ‘it would be the most agreeable match, your grace’.  

The fact that no one was willing to tell you about your potential husband to be worried you.

All you knew was that he was mad and devastatingly handsome.

Sighing, you got out of your bath and dried off, calling your maids to help you get dressed. Once again, you donned light and airy chiffon, this time opting for a simple, short sleeved red dress and a burnt orange scarf draped over your left side and tucked into your waist with a golden band. The scarf was embroidered with gold outlines of the sun, matching your house sigil. A golden snake bracelet was wrapped around your forearm, but you decided to forgo the rest of your jewellery besides your rings. You wanted to explore the castle and feared too much jewellery would make unnecessary noise.  

There were still quite a couple of hours till you were meant to dine with the Targaryens, so you quietly slipped out of your rooms and set out to explore your potential future home.

Nerves were worming throughout Satoru’s body, unsettling him deeply; he could hardly focus on the book in front of him. He had another dream last night, a golden spear barrelling straight through his heart. Except there was no pain or blood, he felt entirely at peace, and his heart had beaten even stronger.

Satoru had wrenched off his blindfold off, desperately searching through the archives. He tried to find out what the golden spear could mean or potentially represent. Initially, he thought it would mean there would be a good hunting season perhaps, and in another text, it made mention of how a spear could symbolise courage and achievement. Still, there was something in his gut telling him that it couldn’t possibly be it.

Maybe he’d die having won some great war? That wouldn’t make too much sense given that the Seven Kingdoms were at the height of their prosperity, and if his betrothal was to go well, that would only serve to further that. Every single possible conclusion he came to, his body was telling him he was wrong.

His palms dug into his eyes as he roughly exhaled, cursing under his breath. The doors to the library opened, and he knew a servant had probably found him to tell him he was to go back to the training he was skipping.

“I’ll be right there, just give me a moment.” He said, his breath coming out in quick pants, palms digging into his eyes further.

The pain brought him great comfort.

Instead of hearing the doors close, he hears light footsteps coming closer towards him. Gently, soft hands grasp at his wrists, slowly pulling them away from his eyes.

Satoru is shocked stiff, wondering which servant had the audacity to touch him in such way.

His eyes open, and the first thing he sees is a golden snake wrapped around a forearm. A jolt goes through his body, every single hair on his body stands, and his vision bleeds red.

A snake, the arm, Satoru’s vision from months ago finds him once more. He’s rendered breathless at the sensation, gasping for air. The hands move from his wrists to cup his face.

“-okay?”

His hearing is muffled, and his eyes struggle to find focus. His stomach bubbles with excitement and trepidation. There’s a soft voice lulling him back to reality, a familiar voice that he can not quite place. Fingers stroke his cheek, the cold rings bringing great ease, and eventually, it pulls him out of his own head.

“Just breathe,” the voice tells him, fingers gently closing his lids and returning to stroke his cheeks. Satoru’s breath somewhat evens out as he focuses on breathing. Once he’s settled, he squeezes his eyes shut and gains the courage to open them one more.

You’re beautiful, is his first thought. Breathtaking. An explosion of red and gold, a beautiful sunset orange.

You look like the answer to all his prayers.

“-you okay?”

Satoru snaps out of his thoughts and realises you’re talking to him. He wordlessly nods, his eyes moving away from your figure in embarrassment. Your hands fall from his face, and Satoru misses their warmth already. The incessant tugging in his gut had died down to a gentle pull, and Satoru knew, with certainty, he found what he was looking for.

“I apologise for touching you so brazenly, my Prince.” You said, thinking that the man in front of you was probably uncomfortable by your touch. You figured out who he was as you stepped into the library, after all, how many white-haired and blue-eyed people were there, casually walking around the Keep.

You knew you probably shouldn’t have touched him, but he looked like he was having a panicked episode. His breath came out quick and ragged, eyes blown wide and teary. You remembered how your parents would hold your face to ground you and guide you to breathing normally again, helping you calm down.

Satoru slowly turns back to you and takes you in once more. It’s better than the first time he laid eyes on you. His soul feels at peace, his body wanting to cave in on yours. He doesn’t even realise it, but the ringing in his ears had finally quietened down.

He notices the rings on your hands and instinctively moves to grab them.

“A spear?” He questions, somewhat frantic. You let him take hold of your hand, wanting him to feel at ease in your presence and quickly recognising this was the supposed madness everyone spoke about.

“Our sigil,” you explained gently, as he moved his face closer to your hand in disbelief. “Of House Martell. A sun, with a golden spear through it.”

“A golden spear,” Satoru repeated, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. “How could I have been so stupid, of course it’s your sigil!”

The Prince’s erratic behaviour was more than a little alarming, but for some reason, you were not worried or in fear. You let him process whatever he needed to process, seeing the cogs turning in his brain.

His eyes also visibly cleared up, and his face looked much more relaxed. The Prince really was strikingly handsome. You felt drawn to him, fighting the urge to hold his hand properly, fingers itching to trace his little scar and stroke his supple cheeks once more.

“I apologise, Princess,” he says, calmed after minutes of just staring and fiddling with your ring. “It is unbecoming of a Prince to treat you in such a way.”

Still, he made no move to release your hand; you found that you did not mind, liking the roughened touch of his fingers on yours.

He looks up at you with those gorgeous eyes, and you realise if they were the last thing you saw, you would die a satisfied and happy woman. You shake your head at him, as if telling him not to worry about it. If anything, you should be apologising to him.

“And I also apologise for your betrothal to me.” His voice is a lot firmer than before, but still soft and whispery. You go to open your mouth to refute his statement, but he speaks before you can.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, so please-“ he gestures to the chair next to him with his free hand, “-sit, and we can discuss matters.”

Before you sit next to him, you grab the hand already on yours with your other and look at him imploringly.

“I know they say that you are mad, my Prince, but you are not broken or incapable of love. In truth, I was a little insulted by your proposal at first, but I truly think I could come to greatly care for you, if not love.”

You had not felt safer with a man alone, as you had with Satoru, besides your own father. It was a strange and indescribable feeling, but you felt as though your souls truly were connected, his presence bringing you ease. You didn’t believe in soulmates or love at first sight. You knew all too well just how cruel the world was, but in Satoru, you found the next closest thing.

Satoru visibly melts at your words. In truth, that’s all he could ask for. He presses a chaste kiss to your conjoined hands and nods.

With a smile on his face, he thinks he could learn to love you too.

He gently guides your hand to sit in the chair next to him, his sturdy thigh comfortably pressed against yours. For the first time in his life, Satoru opens up to someone about his thoughts and feelings with great ease.

In the next couple of hours, you truly get to know the ins and outs of the Heir to the Iron Throne, as he too became familiar with you, the future Princess of Dorne. Before you knew it, it was time for the dinner the King had prepared to welcome his guests.

You and Satoru had shyly walked to the dining hall together, side by side, your hand still in his grasp and resting on his arm.

His blindfold remained forgotten on the desk.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[saikoucorps]

MATCHUPS

🃏 MATCHUPS ARE CLOSED. 🃏

DETAILED MATCHUPS ARE FOR COMMISSIONS.

:ఌ¨ ♱ MATCHUPS I WRITE :

Platonic – basically like a friend matchup

Romantic – your partner

Poly – multiple partners

Family – a character will get matched as your family member (parental, siblings, etc)

Yandere – similar to romantic matchups but the character is yandere centric

Option Matches – choose who you want to be matched with

Appearance matchup – get matched on appearance alone. You can send a description, images, or picrew of your appearance.

Moonboard matchup – an aesthetic board for you and the character you're matched with. The character can be personally selected or a normal matchup.

I write 2 fandoms at a time. ☆ you can check what fandoms I write for in my fandoms list.

ᰔ NOTICE !!

☆ Matchups will include hcs, tropes, songs, second choice, ship name, reasons, and favorite thing about you.

☆ Exchanges include all of the listed below.

☆ Commissions include everything and more. They're more detailed.

Matchup Menu :

[ bolded are for normal matchups. ]

reasons

headcanons

song that's related to your relationship

tropes (2/3)

how you met

date

ship name

drabble

suggestive/slight nsfw hcs

☆ I won't write nsfw hcs for characters under 15

second choice

their favorite thing about you

small moonboard

confession

Time. These take time. Please be aware of that.

appearance matchups will probably be done in less than an hour... same with moonboard matchups.

Requesting:

ִ ☆゙ like + reblog this post

ִ ☆゙ shoot me a dm or send your info through an ask!

ִ ☆゙ give me details about yourself! I encourage you to be as detailed as you need. It's easier for me to get the matchup accurate. Plus, the more info I have about you, the more I'm able to write.

ꪆ🃏୧ What to Include:

name, age, enneagram, mbti, zodiac

details about your personality

hobbies, interests, likes/dislikes

appearance description

your love language(s)

ideal date

ideal partner

specific gender preference

characters you don't want to be matched with

age range/specific group of characters you want to be matched with

If you want nsfw included or not (it will be sfw by default if not specified)

anything else you want to include.

Example of a request:

Hii! I would like to request a short platonic matchup for mha and ddlc. [Insert Info]

☆ Poly Matchups: if you request a poly matchup, specify if you want the characters to be dating each other as well or not. And how many you want in the relationship.

☆ Family Matchups: specify what kind of family member you want. (ex; sibling.)

[targaryen-dynasty]

THIN HOUSE WORDS DIVIDERS.

Ok, so, let me give you these first. 😜 There‘ll come another set tomorrow. If you want one with a different font, just hit me up!

TARGARYEN.

STARK.

LANNISTER.

TYRELL.

GREYJOY.

BOLTON.

MORMONT.

BARATHEON.

ARRYN.

MARTELL.

Please like or reblog if you use.

[kyettax]

A Commission finished! This drawing is for the lovely @alicentdeservesbetter!! Thank you for the commission, I enjoyed drawing them!

[zaldritzosrose]

Team Black Dividers.

Please tag and reblog if you use them!!

Team Black

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Daemon Targaryen

Jacaerys Velaryon

Lucerys Velaryon

Baela Targaryen

Rhaena Targaryen

Rhaenys Targaryen

Corlys Velaryon

(Baela and Rhaena are simply based on my personal vibes on the characters)

[chicken-wayng]

Rhaenicent+TheGreadDivide, Luke Combs

[saintaemond]

i think that there's something very delicious narratively speaking to see what physical intimacy between alicent and criston will look like. every touch will be a gesture of the heart in conflict with itself. every look of longing mixed with the shame of having finally it. whispering each other's names like dark confessions. to be on their knees for each other in the dead of night committing sins till dawn when they are on their knees again asking The Mother for repentance and absolution.

something very yummy 2 me about being your most sinful true self with one person in private and then acting courteous and ideal and perfect in the presence of others. maybe only real religious freaks would understand the intimacy in that joint duplicity and i see not everyone's seeing the vision but lemme just say i am very extremely infinitely seated