#when a targaryen is born the gods flip a coin

[kingaegond]

Aemond / Targaryen

[zhahzu]

imagining sahsrau! jingliu reaction to having monarch as her va be like - and i mean this in the best way possible - imagining mania manifesting in two different ways.

[scorpiosbite]

when drew watched actress!reader’s sex scene for the first time

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── drew’s been binging game of thrones ever since that fateful day madelyn forced him to watch the show, what was meant to be a normal binge session turns into him being the horniest he’s ever been. making the anticipation of meeting you even heavier.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place during the filming of obx 4, before madelyn informed the obx cast that they were going to meet you when you came to LA.

drew could not tear his eyes away from the screen of the tv in his moroccan hotel room. he thought that after watching game of thrones consistently, now nearing the end of the first season he would become accustomed to see you in costume, but every time you came onto the screen his breath was taken away. seeing you in that the sliver waist length wig that looked like it was your real hair, the sheer fabric floor length dresses with the daring cuts that exposed more and more of your soft skin, and the intricate dornish jewellery with the subtle targaryen detailing made him feel like a teenager once again with how quickly his pants tightened. and it wasn’t only how you looked, it was also your performance. you were an astonishing actress, he would forget that you weren’t actually visenya in real life, that this world didn’t actually exist and that you were just acting. he was so captivated by you.

“the last dragon, that’s who you are visenya, the last targaryen left in the world, perhaps if you favoured your mother in looks, you would escape the pressures of the targaryen name, but you do not, you look just like rhaegar only with the tanned skin of elia.” you rolled your eyes and drew felt his heart jump. surrounded by the hanging gardens of sunspear in dorne, you paced with aggression, your sliver hair swishing behind you, your dress billowing as you stared down your costar. “have you come to lecture me of my responsibilities as the last targaryen, jaime? all while your bastard son sits my throne? and your sister puppets him from behind.”

“we are only married because your father knew that once i take back my throne i will come after the lannisters for your family’s hand in my mother and brother’s murders. he thought that if we were married that i would not harm you and your name would live on through my womb. but i am no fool, targaryen women have been known to kill their husbands, who is to say my coin wasn’t flipped on the side of madness. that is the saying is it not? when a targaryen is born the gods flip a coin, greatness or madness.” you now stood face to face with the man, staring him down with a smug expression and drew was once again struck with your talent as an actress, your body displayed the anger and frustration that your character felt despite the facade of arrogance on your face. then suddenly your lips connected with his, the actor who played jaime slid his hand around your waist, the cuts of your dress allowing him to touch your bare skin, your hands went to his hair and drew had never felt so jealous of another man.

jaime picked you up with ease, walking backwards to a chair sitting down with you spread on his lap, and drew thought that he would do anything to have you like that. the camera filmed you from the back, jaime’s hand caressing your exposed back down to your ass, and drew squeezed the covers of his bed in response. the camera cut to a mid shot of both of you from the side, you broke the kiss your face still so close to his, lips brushing together as you spoke in a hushed tone. “i want you to fuck me, jaime.” drew groaned at the lust in your voice, and wondered if that was what you sounded like in real life. jaime’s actor groaned in response to your statement and drew felt sympathy for the man, because he knew that if he was in that position instead of him he would be unable to stop himself from cumming in his pants, professionalism be fucked.

jaime’s hands trailed to the back of your neck and the camera cut to back to the shot of your back, closing up on his hands as his hands pulled at the strings holding your flimsy dress together the camera seemed like it was handheld making the shot feel all the more intimate, the material fell and jaime tugged the dress off of you leaving you completely bare but drew could only see your back and up, but then, the camera cut to a wide shot, and drew gasped as your entire body from the back was exposed. jaime’s hand coming down to squeeze the supple flesh of your ass and drew felt his cock harden at the sight. the camera cut to an over the shoulder shot from jaime and your bare chest came into view, this time drew couldn’t stop the moan that escaped him, your hands tugged at the strings of jaime’s pants although the camera kept on you, your hands out of the shot.

you sank down on jaime’s cock and a whine-like moan escaped you, drew felt like he was going insane, he couldn’t stop himself as he tugged his boxers down, his hard cock springing up to slap against his stomach. his hand wrapping around the thick length, squeezing, pearly beads of pre cum leaking out. drew flicked his eyes back up to the screen and you had your head thrown back as you bounced on jaime’s cock, drew knew that the pleasure on your scrunched up face was fake, that the melodious moans that were escaping your pretty lips that were hung open were fake, but the way your tits were bouncing was real and drew couldn’t stop himself from tugging his cock in time with the movements of your hips, your head tilted back down to gaze down at jaime your eyes so fucked out and drew wished that it was him you were looking at. that it was him that could run his hands all over you.

you spoke breathlessly “targaryens used to feed their enemies to their dragons, i don’t have a dragon yet, perhaps i shall just eat you myself, husband.” jaime groaned in response, connecting your lips back together and drew sped up his movements his hand stroking with fervour, the squelching sounds echoing through the room, his other hand coming down to squeeze at his balls, his eyes still glued to you on the tv. drew was close he could feel it and as your body shuddered and you collapsed into jaime’s lap, drew came with a deep groan. cumming all over his chest and stomach. drew threw his head back against his headboard, he felt just a little bit pathetic, that he didn’t have the courage to message you but he could jack off to you doing your job, but god what he would give to have you like that.

TAGLIST: @sunnybunnyy2 @percysley @wearemadeofstardust0 @idgasb @pinkpantheris @emmaaas-posts @grace-sully @chimmysoftpaws

you guys are not believe the fucking writers block i suffered while writing this for it just to turn out so shit but nevertheless I hope you enjoyed!

[bl00dlight]

When a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin. One side a gorgeous woman, the other a fucking criminal.

[spirit-meets-the-b0ne]

The day people realize Dany was the foil to her mad Targaryen ancestors all along

That GRRM literally wrote their history as a back story FOR HER

That Dany IS the prince that was promised because her and her dragons would be the ultimate deciding factor in the war for the living vs the Night King.

That most people just bought into her “madness” portrayal because they, idk are apparently more susceptible to Westerosi propaganda than even the people in Flea Bottom…

The day people realize that the return of dragons and magic is not a bad thing for Westeros and that Daenerys is not destined to become a great villain, the world will be better.

Just as the world will be better the day people realize that the Targaryens are not the villains of the story, and that this house is not destined to fall through the downfall of Daenerys' character, who will never happen in the books. 😂

If GRRM ever finishes the books, it's crazy to think that Daenerys will end up dying as a big bad and the dragons will disappear again and House Targaryen will be destroyed. 😂

Daenerys Targaryen is for me the perfect revenge for what happened to Rhaenyra.

[moonlightrafe]

A Little Wicked

summary: Your captor summons you to his quarters and offers you a deal.

pairing: Aemond x Witch!Reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Explicit smut, power imbalance, threatening, reader is Aemond’s prisoner, dubcon, fingering 18+ MDNI

note: Inspired by Alys, of course 💚 but no physical descriptors! Idk how I feel about this but yeah…… Feedback is appreciated!

How did the saying go? When a Targaryen is born, the Gods flipped a coin? A 50/50 chance to ascend to greatness or be destined to descend into madness. It served as a reminder to the great family that dragons or not, they were mortal like everyone else. For the rest of the realm, it served as a warning: The Targaryen’s were a force to be reckoned with. Intimidating, unpredictable. When the Targaryen’s wanted something, only a fool would deny them of it or stand in their way. Aemond Targaryen was no exception to this folklore. He teetered on the brink of insanity majority of the time.

You shivered as you sat in the cold, damp dungeon. The only light came from a small barred window high up on the stone walls. You could hear the faint sound of dripping water and the occasional scurrying of rats. You wondered how long you would be trapped here.

“You, girl!” One of the burly men guarding your cell called, metal keys clanging in his hands.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen has requested an audience.”

You had been waiting this moment since you first arrived: judgement day. What would become of you? Would you be granted mercy? You weren’t even sure how many days had passed since your house was burned to ash and you were thrown in this dungeon.

Once the man unlocked the chain around your wrist, you struggled to rise to your feet, anxiety coursing through your veins.

“Come now, girl. The prince does not like to be kept waiting.

The darkness of the chamber seemed to breathe along with the prince. The room where he took solace was beautiful and spacious, but yet you found it to be almost as eerie as the dungeons. Aemond sat in a large leather chair eagerly awaiting your arrival. Across from him was a small dining table and a wooden bench big enough for two. Without uttering a word, he motioned for you to sit down. You obliged, nodding at him and smoothing your dress as you did so. Before you was a small plate with freshly baked bread and a small goblet of wine.

“You must be hungry,” he stated, “eat.”

Hungry was an understatement, you were starving. You took a rather large bite of the bread, washing it down with the wine. It was the best wine you had ever tasted. You were thankful to have something to calm your nerves.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve summoned you here.”

You swallowed the bread with quickness and wiped your mouth of any possible crumbs.

“That is correct, your grace.”

Aemond leaned forward so that his elbows were touching his knees, a fox-like grin plastered on his face.

“How polite you are,” he noted, “what do you know of me?”

Truth be told, you didn’t know much about Aemond Targaryen. You were aware of his cruelty. You knew that ever since he took over Harrenhal your life had become hell.

“You’re… Aemond Targaryen,” you blurted out, hoping he would not berate you for stating something so obvious. “You’re the second son of the late King Viserys… You were crowned prince regent not long ago, and your dragon is called Vhagar.”

You watched intently as Aemond took a sip of his own wine, silently praying you did not say the wrong thing. His Adam's apple bobbed in the candlelight as he swallowed — the longer you stared at him you realized he was actually quite handsome. Your thoughts of admiration for him were interrupted once he spoke.

“Very good. Now, would you care to know what I know of you?”

Your breath caught in your throat as he stood, striding over to approach where you sat. A knot formed in your stomach as he plopped down next to you, his good eye piercing through you with scrutiny.

“I know that you’re a wet nurse,” he began as his good eye flicked to your breasts so quickly you almost didn’t catch it.

“I know that you are a bastard of House Strong,” the tone of his voice had been laced with venom. You knew he hated your house and you knew he hated bastards. A thin line of sweat began to form on your forehead and your heart raced as you waited for the prince to speak again. Instead he inched closer, his hand ghosting over your thigh.

“As interesting as those facts about you may be, would you like to know the most intriguing of them all?”

Too overwhelmed to speak, you remained silent. Only giving him a simple nod in response.

“I know,” he stated as his large hand now gripped at the flesh of your thigh over your dress, “that you’re a witch.”

His statement made your blood run cold. Aemond’s fingers traced the edge of your jawline, lingering at your pulse point. Your breath hitched once again as his thumb brushed the throbbing vein beneath your skin.

“Isn’t that right, my sweet?”

He was correct. Your late mother had been teaching you magic since you were a young girl. You possessed the gift of foresight, being able to see into the future and the past. However it wasn’t so black and white. You had much to learn before your craft was perfected.

“I am not as powerful as you may have been led to believe, my prince.”

Any doubts you had of yourself, Aemond did not seem to agree on, he did not even acknowledge you. His hand found its way further down and under the skirts of your dress. Large fingers probed between your legs, pressing hard against your clothed sex. You tensed up, your breath leavingyour lungs. Your body betrayed you as you felt arousal blooming within you, dampening your small clothes.

Your mind raced with conflicting emotions as Aemond’s hand ventured deeper, snaking its way beneath the waistband of your undergarments. Fear mingled with desire, leaving you torn between pushing him away and surrendering to the agonizing threat of pleasure that pulsed through your veins. It's not as if you had much of a choice in the matter.

"I believe that we can be of service to one another," he whispered against your neck, licking lightly at the sensitive flesh. Two of his fingers teased at the bud between your legs, pinching at it lightly as they became sticky with your slick. A wave of pleasure rippled through you and you squirmed beneath him. Involuntarily your body jolted forward, allowing him better access to the spot he was exploring.

"Together, I believe we can conquer many obstacles and even achieve success."

You cringed as a moan escaped your lips.

"You shall remain loyal to me and me only," he said as he pushed his fingers inside of you. He chuckled darkly as your body trembled under his touch.

"The practice of your craft is to only be done in my presence," he continued as his fingers pumped in and out of you, stretching you deliciously — almost, but not quite reaching that spongy spot within your walls.

“You will use your powers to the best of your ability and for my benefit and in return, I shall spare you your life.”

Another moan erupted from within you as he hooked his digits up slightly, pressing into the spot you needed him most.

“Do you think you can be a good girl and obey my rules?”

Your cunt began to squeeze around his digits in response to the nickname.

As he grazed the rough patch inside of you and pressed firmly into it, his free hand pushed down on your stomach while he continued to thrust his fingers. You felt your body shake and tremble as your orgasm began to wash over you at an embarrassingly quick pace. Aemond watched in great amusement as you came undone beneath him. In this light you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, your hair unruly and your cheeks flushed crimson. A sight he would never grow tired of.

He removed his fingers from your slick and gave you a minute to gain your composure. You felt a wave of shame crash over your body, unable to look him in the eye. How did you succumb to him so easily? Thought in the back of your mind you had hoped wasn't going to be the last time something of this nature was going to happen.

Aemond used the same two fingers that were inside of you to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“So,” he smirked “do we have a deal?”

“Yes, your grace.”

He informed you that a guard would be taking you to your new quarters as he bade you goodnight.

As you entered your new quarters, you were taken back by the luxury of it all. The walls were made of stone and there was a large, ornate canopy bed in the center, a major upgrade from your own bedroom, and an even bigger upgrade from the dungeons. To your delight, a steaming bath had been drawn for you and a fresh chemise was laid out on the bed.

This was just the beginning of your very complicated relationship with Aemond Targaryen. You were still a prisoner, you were still afraid of what was to come; but there were worse situations you could be in and perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[scarlet-star-witch]

yay... can you write one where you've heard all the nasty rumours about the Targaryens, especially how cruel they can be sometimes, but Aemond proves you wrong. He is sweet, kind, and compassionate towards you. You know he's not like that around other people, so you ask him why he acts different towards you.

Hope you like the request.

This took way too long for me write, but I hope this is what you were looking for!

Warnings: implied smut and a whole lotta fluff

WC: 3.2 K

~~

They say the Gods flip a coin when a Targaryen is born. Greatness or madness were the destinies that followed the otherworldly family. 

Closer to Gods than men, they would say. Quick to anger, that burned hotly, destroying those in its ruthless path.

That was all she knew of the Targaryen family. 

It was the only warning she had before she was shipped off to King’s Landing to marry the one-eyed prince. 

She knew nothing of her betrothed except for his reputation that gleamed nothing but anger and a fiercely cold nature. She didn’t want to listen to rumors, but she couldn’t help but feel apprehensive to meet the man of mystery that was Prince Aemond.

The night they first met, she had approached the table of royals, curtseying politely, her heart racing as she met the gaze of her betrothed for the first time. 

She smiled, hoping to start off on the right foot, but his expression never changed, beholding her as if bored, as if unmoved by the knowledge that she would soon be his wife. His disinterest seemed to confirm every fear she had. It left her shaken, the picture of a terrified woman at the altar who could barely meet the gaze of her new husband. 

The night of their wedding, she was terrified, practically trembling as he took her to bed. 

She had shut her eyes and prayed for the seconds to pass quickly. 

It had been awkward, stifling and uncomfortable, but it wasn’t awful. The pain was momentary and he didn’t take her like a mindless beast who only sought his own pleasure as she had been warned some men were known to act by her kind maids. 

Aemond only ever had gentle touches to give her. 

It was by no means the passionate love she had read about in books she hid from her mother, but she was at least grateful she bore no marks from a husband who only had anger to bestow upon her. 

Over the months together, they didn’t spare many words for each other. 

The Prince was polite and cordial, but their conversations never went any deeper than small talk that amounted to nothing important. 

She often found herself wondering if he even tolerated her, let alone liked her, but as the weeks passed and he stayed by her side, lingering in their chambers together, joining her for walks in the garden, did she begin to soften her opinion of him, no longer fearing his presence as she had in the beginning. 

Almost daily, she would spot him, his face impassive, almost hardened, but the moment he saw her his expression would lighten, a small smile growing as he approached her. 

He would always greet her politely and offer her his arm.

“Tell me about your home.” He asked her out of the blue one afternoon as they lounged under the shade of the Weirwood tree. 

She looked to her husband nervously, feeling exposed under his gaze that portrayed an undeniable curiosity. 

“What would you like to know?” 

“Anything you would like to tell me.” He answered with a smile that brought one to her own lips. “I will gladly take anything you are willing to give me.”

Her breath caught in her throat, surprised by his words, so brazen, so unlike the man she had thought him to be. 

Before she could speak again, Ser Criston approached the pair and she watched as Aemond’s easy expression shifted so suddenly, his face now drawn tightly into a scowl. 

“My Prince, your mother is expecting your presence in her solar.” Ser Criston reminded him.

Aemond barely spared a moment of attention to the Knight, his hand squeezing hers as if in apology for the interruption of their time together.

“She will have to wait, Ser Crsiton. I am with my wife.” 

She knew that was a moment she would not soon forget, for it was the first time she felt as though her husband cared for her, the first time she realized he didn’t loathe their arrangement. 

There were moments, too many to count now, when she couldn’t help but wonder if he longed to be closer as she would feel his gaze on her, seeking her out no matter where they were. 

At every festivity, in the midst of crowds and countless lords pushing their way to bestow well wishes onto the royal family, it never failed that she always found Aemond’s eye, his attention focused solely on her. 

Her favorite would be the moments of quiet connection in the solace of their chambers. Her eyes would wander from the book she read to land on him, barely catching a glimpse of his face before he would quickly look away from her, as if not wanting to get caught admiring his own wife. 

It always left her breathless in ways she couldn’t explain, in ways she couldn’t make sense of. 

Despite the slowly growing bond, she felt lonely in her new home without her family, without a great love to lean on. 

Music was her only escape from the isolation. She often found herself in the grand hall, hours before the festivities were to start, dodging the servants that readied the tables, just to hear the musicians practice. 

They always spotted her and, as the months dragged on, no longer looked at her in annoyance, but would smile politely and play, as if just for her, enjoying their one woman audience who seemed to hold onto every note as if it meant the world to her. 

They indulged her in the many questions she asked about their music and their instruments, letting her have her moment of reprieve. 

At every feast, as she sat by her husband’s side, her gaze would remain on the band, admiring their work others in the room steadfastly ignored

One night, as she took in the music with tranquility, a gentle hand lay over her own, startling her out of her daze. She looked over at her husband with wide eyes, confused yet surprised by the gesture. 

“Would you like to dance?” 

She froze for a moment, taken aback by his question, but finally nodded, too surprised to answer with words. 

He took her hand in his, his touch soft, as if she were made of glass, as he guided her to the floor with the other dancing couples. 

They faced each other and Aemond wasted no time in laying his hand on her waist, bringing her in closer to him. 

She felt nerves creep through her as they danced. She could feel his eye on her as they twirled, as he brought her back into his arms, as he held her close. 

Finally gaining the courage to meet his gaze, she found his eye held nothing but light, a look of contentment watching her carefully. 

A flutter unfurled in her chest, a feeling she had never felt before. The way he looked at her made her cheeks heat and she could’ve sworn she saw him smile, as if he knew what he was doing to her. 

She couldn’t help but wonder if his touch was supposed to make her feel so cared for, if he knew it was making her melt. 

A part of her desperately hoped he did. 

~~

Aemond had been ready to write her off completely, to resign himself to the fact that he was to marry a spoiled girl who would cower at the sight of him. 

He’d had enough of meeting Ladies who flinched or outright winced at the sight of him and his scar, that whispered they could never lay with, let alone marry, a man with such a deformity. 

But the moment he met her, as she met his gaze with little hesitation, as she smiled his way, a gleam of hope in her eyes, did he feel as though his entire world tilted on its axis. 

It wasn’t until her smile faltered, her eyes averting from his shyly that he realized he hadn’t returned her smile, had only stared back at her as if disinterested. 

He had cursed to himself, close to letting Aegon smack him for being so hopeless. 

He could plainly see her fear on the day of the wedding, had whispered apologies he didn’t think she heard as he took her to bed for the first time, had tried his best to assuage her nerves, yet he knew it was because of him, because of that first damned look that he ruined everything before it even began.

 He longed to reach out to her, to apologize for his abysmal first impression, but he found he couldn’t muster the words, or the courage. 

So he settled for admiring her from afar, entirely discontented by the distance but unsure of how to bridge it. 

He spent his days with her, his mind torturously blank, no words coming to him to at least try to begin a bond with her, his sweet wife that never looked at him as though he was a deformed monster as the other ladies in the Keep had. 

He had no idea how, or that he was even capable of such a connection, but he couldn’t help but feel lighter in her presence. Knowing such a sweet woman who never had a harsh word to say about anyone, especially him, left him longing to bestow every praise and sweet nothing upon her. 

He never considered himself to be swayed by such romantic ideals, but whenever he was face to face with his wife, he found himself wishing he had spent more time perusing through the books of poetry in the library rather than the history tomes. 

He wished he had the words to tell her how absolutely magical he found her, how her smile lit any room she was in, how he wished he could bathe in her warmth, how much he appreciated that she looked at him so differently than any other lady in the court had. 

He found himself seeking her out any time he was not with her. 

“Have you seen my wife?” He asked a member of the White Cloaks, becoming desperate after having no luck finding her in the gardens or with Helaena or his mother. 

“There is a feast tonight. Your Lady wife is known to spend time watching the musicians practice. My best guess would be to look for her there.”

Aemond’s brows furrowed at the answer. 

“The musicians?”

“Yes, my Prince. She seems quite fond of them.” 

His stomach twisted at the realization there was something his wife was so obviously delighted by that he had no idea of and he quickly made his way towards the great hall, spotting, not his wife, but a group of musicians assembling their instruments. 

“My Prince.” The lead conductor bowed to him politely when he noticed his presence. “I am glad to see you, we were just discussing your Lady wife and we would appreciate if you would speak to her about her presence here as we prac-”

“You will allow her to watch.” Aemond interrupted the man, looking at him sternly, as if daring the man to defy him. “You will indulge her with your practice. You will answer any question she poses and if she deems it a want, you will let her play your damn instruments.”

After his warning, he began to watch his wife, smiling to himself as he noticed the look of delight in her gaze as she watched the musicians perform. 

It took weeks to build the courage, but one night as the band played and she watched with eagerness, he asked her to dance for the first time since their wedding. 

That night, he had never felt so nervous as he danced with her, but he felt closer to her than ever before. 

That night, she seemed to feel it too as she looked at him with a desire he had never seen from her before as they retreated to their chambers for the night. 

That night, he made love to her. He touched her so softly, reveling in her beautiful moans and cries of his name. He felt as though he was a God as she felt her touch on him, as he felt the sting of her nails in his back as he thrusted into her with a desperation so unknown to him. 

It was the first time they felt so connected to each other. 

As they lay with each other, their hearts slowing their rhythm from their peaks, he held her in his arms, not yet ready to lose the feel of her touch just yet. 

“Tell me about the music.” He asked softly. 

She laughed softly, the sound like heavenly bells to his ears. The knowledge that he had even noticed her infatuation with music was enough to have butterflies unleashed within her. 

“My mother used to play the harp. Apparently, when I was a babe, the sound of her harp was the only thing that could calm me down, the only thing that would stop my crying. She would always make up songs to sing me to sleep.” She explained wistfully and he listened to every word. 

“Sometimes I feel as though my mind gets too loud. There are too many thoughts that are entirely unhelpful and… I don’t know, it sounds silly, but I think music is the only thing that quiets it, that brings me back down to myself when those thoughts take over.”

“It’s not silly.” He told her earnestly. “I think it’s beautiful to admire something so passionately.” 

“I wish I could learn to play myself, but I don’t think I have the patience for it.”

Aemond scoffed, the sound holding nothing but disbelief. 

“My sweet wife, you are the most patient person I have ever met in my life. If you can conquer me, you can conquer anything.”

“Have I conquered you?” She asked, looking up at him with a playful challenge, to which he smiled. 

“You certainly have.”

She smiled and leaned in closer to his touch, finally feeling as though they were on the same wavelength. 

By the next morning, Aemond was gone before she woke. 

Her maids helped her get dressed for the morning and they couldn’t help but notice the lovesick smile that adorned her lips. 

“You seem quite happy this morning, my Lady.”

She blushed and bowed her head bashfully. 

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the Prince, would it?” Her maid teased, the group of them laughing as their Lady swatted their hands playfully. 

“I have never seen Prince Aemond so smitten before.” One of the younger maids commented. “You seem to have him under a spell, my Lady. I don’t think I had ever seen him smile until you came around.”

“Oh yes, he was always so surly. I was terrified to even pass him in the halls.” They continued as if she were no longer there, not noticing the surprise on her face as they spoke of her husband. “He seems like a different person. He is nothing but a lovesick fool now.” 

She felt as though her heart would burst as she listened to their words. 

Only a few minutes later, as she was dressed, did her husband return. His smile faltered at the sight of her maids and he seemed to retreat into himself, his cool demeanor shifting into one of discomfort, his body rigid, his nod of acknowledgement stiff. 

Her maids giggled to themselves and bid her goodbye before leaving. 

Only then did Aemond relax once again, his expression now nothing but one of love as he approached her. 

“I have something for you.”

She raised a brow in question as he took a seat next to her. 

He then handed her a stack of papers. She didn’t recognize what they were at first, her eyes flitting over the markings over the page, before it suddenly dawned on her. 

It was sheet music. 

“You said you wished to learn.” 

Her lips parted, but no words came. She was stunned to silence, his gesture, so thoughtful, had her floored. 

“This is… I don’t know what to say.” She spoke quietly. She looked to her husband and felt so unprepared for the love she would feel for him, in disbelief that the man she had been terrified to marry could make her feel this way.

“What is it?” Aemond asked worriedly, watching as her expression became one of thoughtful contemplation, suddenly fearing he had overstepped in some way. 

“Why me?” 

The question caught him off guard and his frown deepened, his heart beginning to race as doubt crept through him.

“What do you mean?”

“You do not act this way with anyone else. The maids were practically terrified of you before. You never smile with anyone but me. I don’t understand what is so special about me to have a place in your heart.” 

The insecurities came spilling out before she could stop them, leaving her feeling more exposed than she intended and suddenly wishing the ground would swallow her whole. 

Aemond’s face shifted, his eye looking at her with a mix of disbelief and sadness. He leaned in close to her, his hand reaching out to cradle her jaw. 

“You cannot truly mean that.” He whispered, as if his words had physically hurt him. “Do you really not see how easily you have carved yourself into my heart?”

She didn’t have an answer and merely looked stunned by his words. 

He let out a long breath and hesitated, his teeth worrying his bottom lip for a moment before his hand reached out and slowly took his eyepatch off. 

She felt as though her breath was stolen from her as she saw the sparkling sapphire in place of his eye. 

He watched her carefully and as he saw only awe in her gaze, did he feel as though he could melt into nothing. 

He smiled and took her hand, guiding her to the scarred side of his face, laying her palm against his skin. 

“I was ridiculed my entire life, looked at as if I were a monster because of what was taken from me the night I claimed Vhagar.” He told her, almost shuddering under her touch as her thumb grazed the edge of his scar. 

“You have never once looked at me as though I was less, or that my scar made me someone unlovable.” 

Her gaze met his and she was floored by the genuine reverence with which he looked at her. 

“That night, I was kicking myself for not returning your smile, but I…” He paused, letting out a small, bashful laugh. “I was too in awe of you to do anything but stare like a fool.” 

“You don’t understand what is so special about yourself?” He repeated, a tone of derision in his voice as if it disgusted him to even speak the words aloud. “Darling, you had me bewitched from the very first moment I saw you.”

She let out a laugh, her eyes beginning to brim with tears, his words wrapping around her like the warm embrace of a lover. 

He leaned in, his nose brushing against hers.

“I am truly sorry I made you feel as though there was any doubt. I’ll have to try harder to make you realize you are the most special being in this entire castle.”

Her laugh was cut off as he crashed his lips to hers, kissing her with the ferocity of a dragon in love. 

[nogoodsheepstealing-greatgrandma]

F&B: Here is the story of a mother who loses her children one by one. She loses her only daughter before she can hold her, her sweet Lucerys is eaten by his uncle's dragon, her baby Viserys is lost while being sent away to safety, her heir Jacaerys dies trying to save him, her brave Joffrey falls to his death.

At first she collapses, she almost gives up, too grief-sick and terrified of losing anymore children to take action. Her heir steps up to be her strength, to be diplomatic and meritocratic and conciliatory and hopeful.

With his loss she hardens, her fears burning away, leaving her rage and hatred, her heart where her sons used to be turning to stone. Then she slips into paranoia, determined to eliminate any threat to her remaining children, alienating allies in a time of crisis, destroying Jace's legacy in the process... only to lose another child anyway.

Then she breaks. She clutches her last son tightly. She sells her crown to keep him safe. She despairs and weeps. Finally she clings to one last hope, one last chance of strength - a dragon. The last thing she hears is her child screaming for her to flee.

Condal, taking notes from Benioff and Weiss: What if this crazy selfish bitch drank her own Kool-Aid, became a religious fanatic, and starting herding people en masse to be burnt and eaten alive?

Condalstans: "ooh A+ character development! After all, when a Targaryen is born the Gods flip a coin-"

[daenerysaizie]

𐔌 . ⋮ REALM’S DELIGHT .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

MK1 x Targaryen!Reader

Note:

Game of Thrones concept included in MK 1. Even though, Game of Thrones is kanonically a show in the MK world (shown in the DLC), in this fanfic it’s not lol. Also, I will be changing plots and details for the both. Will get confusing as I’m not an experienced writer and yes :3 OH! You’re also basically Daenarys, sharing the look of classic Valyrian (only hair and eye color) and characteristics. If you don’t know anything about Game of Thrones, don’t worry I will explain it in the fic? But do realize it’s heavily rewritten so it’s not the same as the kanon one. Heavily inspired by “Kombat Hearts” by @ilykirara and “New Era” by @atlasofthestaars . I love this two fics so so much<3 female reader? But read however you like.

Edit: changed the story lil bit to fit the flow🩷

Chapter 1 — Everytime a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.

In the year 283 AC (After Conquest) on Dragonstone, Westeros, a storm raged, with fierce winds and crashing waves echoing the pain that consumed Queen Rhaella. She lay in labor, her face pale and drawn, haunted by fear—fear of soon losing a husband to his madness and sons to a brutal world. Yet, she clung to her strength, whispering, “This child is of House Targaryen,” as though breathing life into the fire in her womb.

At the storm’s peak, the child was born—a girl with silvery hair and eyes like amethysts. Rhaella looked upon her newborn daughter with a bittersweet smile. Her breaths grew shallow, each one softer than the last, yet her gaze held firm. She would not yield to death, not yet. Her lips parted, and with a fragile voice, she spoke her child’s name—a final act of love and defiance.

—

They called you Stormborn. The youngest child of King Aerys, princess of Dragonstone—a darling of the fortress that rose dark and forbidding from the rocky, windswept island, surrounded by an endless sea. In your early years, you grew up there, often found by the beach, close to the waves, with sand in your hair and the scent of salt in your nose. You loved the sea; it made you feel free. The cold, unyielding stones of Dragonstone comforted you, and to your young eyes, this was home. Warm and protective.

You were never alone. Upon your mother’s death, the King, your father, appointed guards and servants to remain by your side at all times, just as he had for Viserys, your elder brother. Before you or Viserys, Queen Rhaella had suffered multiple miscarriages and stillbirths. This led the King, who was starting show signs of insanity, to suspect her, and he sent her away to Dragonstone from King’s Landing. He would visit her only after executing someone by fire.

Raised on the island, you knew little of the world beyond—King’s Landing, the Seven Kingdoms, or even your eldest brother, Rhaegar, whom you met only twice. You have met your father supposedly just once, when you were a babe. Viserys was your only guide, the voice that taught and reassured you. Sharing quite the big of age gap, he knew beyond the misty, cold walls.

When conditions grew too dangerous, you were too young to understand why you had to leave.

“Brother, please come with me. I’m scared,” you whispered, clinging to him. Viserys held you tightly. “I must stay. I am the Prince of Dragonstone, It is right for me to stay,” he replied, pressing a small bag into your hands. “Sister, I promise I’ll bring you back home. Protect this at all costs. It is the crown of King Jaehaerys I.” You clutched the bag close, nodding.

A man with clad in blue took your small hand and led you away from the only home you’d known to a place far, far away. Clutching the bag with the crown, you looked back at your brother for a final look. The maids and servants who had raised you weeped as they watched you leave.

In time, you would soon forget the feel of home and the memories it bore, but never the promise your brother made or the vow you’d taken to guard the crown.

—

You stayed at a placed called the Lin Kuei when you fled from home. The Lin Kuei's former Grandmaster knew your father personally. How? You didn't know. All you knew was that the Grandmaster was kind enough to lend a hand to your father and save his only daughter. "Do you know why you are here, little dragon?" He bent down to your toddler body. You gripped the golden crown to your chest. "Home is dangerous." you replied as you looked at the Grandmaster. He had the face of a strict man, but deep in his eyes, you could see honor and kindness burn. He hummed as he nodded, "You will be safe here." he told you as he put his hand on your head. And you were, for years.

Obviously, being in the clan, you were destined to meet the three sons he had. You became close to the youngest one, Tomas. He bore almost the same burdens as you and understood your pains and discomfort. Eventually, you got close to Kuai Liang too. He took care of you and guarded you away from the clan's considerably cruel side. However, as for Bi-Han, you never got the chance to get close. He was heir to his clan, making him busier than his brothers. To your memory, he was cold and strict, stricter than his father. The only vivid memory you have of him is him asking you how your hair and eye color were so... different. You could not give him an answer that satisfied his curiosity.

As you got older, when you showed the sign of maturity in body and mind, you were sent away once again. Somewhere much safer and peaceful. According to the former Grandmaster, the clan was not made for you; you were meant to live a life that was peaceful, not a life to become a skilled warrior. Thus, Madam Bo, a former Lin Kuei warrior, took you to the village where she resided. You would keep contact in with the Lin Kuei brothers through letters. Though, the last letter you got from was a year ago now.

You lived with Madam Bo for many years now. She taught you everything you needed to know, from tough love to combat (for self defense). You remember the moment she brought you to Fengjian as clear as day. The night was as silent as death when she brought you to this quaint village. Her horse's gallops echoed through the stillness, bringing little bit of life to the sleeping village. She had you firmly seated in front of her on her horse, your hair skillfully concealed beneath her deep purple scarf. Madam Bo took great care to inform you of the local norms and the dos and the don’ts. She explained that your unique features, which were considered royal in Westeros and the Essos, would seem different and will be only met with curiosity. You were also strongly advised to not speak of your old home or family name.

Through Madam Bo, you were able to meet Kung Lao and Raiden. "Thick-skulled boys," she would call them. Growing up, the three of you sparred, trained, and played together. Being homeschooled, Raiden and Kung Lao were diligent in ensuring that you didn't miss out on any fun experiences. After grueling training sessions, the males took turns to take you out for treats. In return, you helped them with various tasks around the farm. This included harvesting the freshly grown vegetables, a labor of gratitude from you. They were also vigilant in ensuring that no boys with ‘ill intentions’ ever bothered you with courting or whatever. Whenever you insisted you could handle yourself, they would respond with a confident "I know," followed by a statement that they knew even better because they were males. In retort, you would often ask, "In that case, should I be cautious of you two as well?" to which they would simply shut down.

—

It was early in the morning, 5 AM to be exact, as you sat on your bed staring at the golden crown in your hands. It was the last thing you had that represented your family's existence and was evidence of your royal heritage. The crown had a large sigil of a three-headed dragon at its center, while seven smaller gems of different colors decorated the rest. You had the same dream again. At this point, you could recall every detail.

"BURN THEM ALL! BURN THEM ALL!" A hoarse, old voice boomed through the room. An old man with a long white beard and crazed eyes yelled, ordering his pyromancers (who used some kind of chemicals to start major fires) while he sat on the Iron Throne, a seat made from thousands of swords. The pyromancers hesitated. It was your father who sat on the throne, though you didn’t know it was him; his unmistakable Valyrian looks—white hair and purple eyes—gave it away. He continued to yell until one of his guards, a golden-haired man with blurry face, drew his sword, stabbed him in the back, and slit his throat. The golden-haired guard watched your crazed father bleed to death as he sat on his throne, yet your father still whispered the same thing as he bled on the floor: "Burn them all."

You ponder if the dream was a real event or not. After all, you were never there to witness this event, and you were extremely young when you fled from home. Plus, you had no memory of ever meeting your father or what he looked like. What if it was a cruel joke your mind played?

"No use thinking about it," you whisper to yourself as you put away the crown into your nightstand's drawer. With one swift move, you get up to get ready for the day. After all, you had so much to do. You start your morning routine and change from your nightgown into more proper clothes for the day.

—

The day went by rather quickly. From getting fresh vegetables and produce early in the morning to serving customers until closing time, the day went smoothly. Almost too smoothly. You sigh and hum as you watch your two friends put away food like vacuums, with Kung Lao doing most of the work as usual. It was amusing - how did his stomach not burst? It was superhuman, you swore. Soon, you saw Madam Bo approach the two with a massive bill in her hand. Poor Raiden and his wallet.

Despite closing hours arriving, a few drunken uncles from the village stayed behind. One made a mess on the bottom floor, which you had to clean up. You mopped the floor as the drunken man apologized. "Ahhhh, I'm sorry! Here, here, have this," he slurred his words as he handed you an unopened bottle of beer. You shook your head and refused his token of apology. You chuckled inwardly as you washed away the mess from the floor.

Suddenly, Madam Bo came down to the bottom floor and crashed into the table, breaking it. She was unconscious. "Madam Bo?!" you exclaimed in horror. The drunken uncles behind you seemed to sober up and stare. You looked up to see the culprit with wide eyes.

The man with very familiar hair jumped down to the floor, landing next to Madam Bo's unconscious body. He wore mask that covered his face. Your chest tightened as fear clouded your mind for her. You tried running towards her as the previously drunken guy, now sober from the shock, grabbed your wrist. "Are you crazy!? He's going to kill you!" he whispered as he tugged you, preparing to run. "Go" you whispered back to him. The once-drunken guy thought for a moment and let your wrist go when he saw your determined face. He dashed out of the place with a few other people. You still gripped the mop in your hand as the man approached you. He had grey hair that reminded you of Tomas from your childhood. Was it truly him? You hadn't seen the man for years!

"Surrender to the Lin Kuei! Or end up like her," he replied as he prepared his karambit, aiming it at you. It is him! Is this what the Lin Kuei does now? you thought anxiously. "I thought the Lin Kuei protected people from harm. I never thought you would stoop this low," you spoke calmly, with a hidden wobble in your voice. How could your childhood friend do this?

Kung Lao and Raiden shout your name from the floor above after taking out the other members of the clan. They try to go down to help you, but Bi-Han and Kuai Liang stop them in their tracks. "You interfere with Lin Kuei business. Leave, or face our wrath!" Bi-Han warns as he dramatically stands on the rooftop. Kuai Liang approaches the two with his weapon from behind, swinging it in the air. "Abandon Madam Bo and her? Not happening," Kung Lao replies. After his reply, Bi-Han launches himself at Raiden while Kuai Liang grabs Kung Lao, pulling him towards himself as he yells ferociously, "Get over here!"

Tomas slowly approaches you with his karambit, closing the distance between you two, as if he were a hunter and you were his prey. You contemplate your actions as you grip the mop tighter until your knuckles turn white. When the gap closes, he swings his karambit at you. You dodge his attack and use the tip of the mop to strike his stomach multiple times before hitting him hard on the head with the mop's end. He falls down. "No, it can't be that easy," you think to yourself as you look at his ‘unconscious’ body. Emotions surge through you the more you look at him, unsure how to feel, but you take the result for granted, leaving the mop near his head and running towards Madam Bo.

The noises around you seem to blur as you barely breathe. You gently turn her body to see her, and your hands shakily brush her face to sweep away the strands of her hair. "Madam Bo?" you whisper with great worry and fear. Soon enough, Kung Lao and Raiden come running down to you. They ask about your condition first before turning to Madam Bo. "Oh no. Is she—" Kung Lao is cut off when Madam Bo suddenly opens her eyes and looks at you three. "Dead? Not yet." You three can hear the playfulness in her voice as she stands up. You and Raiden are quick to help her, but she brushes away your hands as she swiftly lights up her cigarette. "Madam Bo, how are you—" Kung Lao gets interrupted again. Raiden points at the stairs, "Guys!"

"So, Madam Bo, are they ready?" A man comes down as he takes his hood off, revealing his glowing eyes and chiseled face that bears a small, proud smile. You notice it's the same man who caught your attention earlier today. Madam Bo was fondly standing at his table as she served him tea. You anxiously fidget with the ring on your middle finger. Raiden notices your fidgeting and gently takes your hand, holding it firmly with care.

Madam Bo stands in front as if to present you three. "These two are a bit thick in the head, perhaps... But they are ready," she says, referring to Raiden and Kung Lao. "However, I did not think my child would be included in the exam," she chuckles as she glances at you.

"His eyes are glowing," Raiden blurts out to Kung Lao, who is on his right side with you on his left, still holding your hand.

"I am Lord Liu Kang, God of Fire and Protector of Earthrealm," the man with glowing eyes introduces himself as he connects his hands together and folds his arms. In response, you gently let go of Raiden's hand to bow to the god. "God? Earthrealm?" Kung Lao asks with curiosity as Raiden observes the god, silently mourning the loss of contact with your hand.

"Madam Bo has been preparing you for this moment since you were boys. Today you have proven worthy of joining my champions," he explains further.

"This fight was a test?" Raiden asks. The god smiles and nods, "Of your ability and character, yes. Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas," he calls out to the Lin Kuei members. Bi-Han and Kuai Liang come down the stairs while Tomas, who was already on the same floor, stands up and positions himself behind the god.

"So these three aren't thugs?" Kung Lao asks suspiciously, eyeing them. You can only send an apologetic look to Tomas, who returns it with soft eyes.

"The Lin Kuei is a centuries-old clan dedicated to Earthrealm's defense," the god explains.

"You keep saying Earthrealm. Don't you mean Earth?" Raiden asks, confused. Madam Bo chuckles as you smile. You already possessed a little information of this topic. "You boys have so much to learn," she says.

"Earth is only part of Earthrealm. Earthrealm itself is one of many realms. Together they comprise the whole of the universe," the god explains, gesturing with his hands. "The realms can be fierce, bitter rivals. That's why we need champions to defend ours," Madam Bo adds. "The time draws near for the grand martial arts tournament between Earthrealm and the realm of Outworld. Held once each century, it allows each realm to demonstrate its strength. While our realms are at peace, there are Outworlders who would prefer us to be at war. Our victory in the tournament will... temper their zeal," the god concludes.

Madam Bo turns to the boys and partially to you, "I've taught you everything I can. You must finish your training with Lord Liu Kang," she informs them.

"More training? These three couldn't defeat us," Kung Lao asks skeptically. At his remark, Bi-Han scoffs audibly, which makes Madam Bo chuckle along with him.

"They were pulling their punches," she explains. You nod at her words as you remember the Lin Kuei being so formidable and strong. "Had we not held back, you would not have survived," Bi-Han says proudly and threateningly, stepping forward slightly. Lord Liu Kang blocks his way and interrupts him. "Come. The monks at the Wu Shi Academy await to continue your tutelage." The god offers the choice, which Kung Lao accepts without hesitation.

"And you, Raiden?" the god asks. Raiden hesitates, "Leave Fengjian? I'm needed here," he replies. Madam Bo steps in, "Earthrealm needs you, Raiden. You'll best serve the village by being one of its champions," she assures him. After considering for a moment, Raiden agrees to the god's offer with a simple "I understand."

"How about you? You have proven yourself to be worthy as well," the god turns to you as he utters your name. You, who had been silent the whole time, gape at his question. You point towards yourself, "Me?" you ask, to confirm. Madam Bo chuckles. "Come on! You heard the god. The three of us could train together like we always did!" Kung Lao says as he steps forward towards you as Raiden nods in agreement. You were unsure. "But I do not fight well and I cannot leave Madam Bo." you answer bluntly. At your words, Madam Bo chuckles as she pushes you towards the god by your waist. "Forgive me, Lord Liu Kang. As you can see, she is timid, obedient, and so humble. But she has the spirit of the dragon." she says. The god and everyone else only looks at you and awaits your answer. You sigh and nod, which earns a proud smile from Madam Bo.

"Excellent. I will join you soon. First, there are other champions I must gather," the god says.

—

Lord Liu Kang departed the tea house to gather his other champions with Kung Lao and Raiden shortly after him, to prepare for the Wu Shi academy.

The Lin Kuei stayed behind to clean up the aftermath of their physical test, during which you exchanged subtle glances with them. It had been over a decade since you last saw them, and they had transformed from boys into men, now towering above you easily. Their faces had become more defined and chiseled, contrasting the young boys you remembered.

“You dyed your hair.” Tomas remarks as he approaches you. You were setting the chairs upside down on the table to sweep any debris or broken objects. “Ah, I had to” you return his greeting with a warm smile and stand up straight. A moment of silence hangs between you, filled with the unspoken words and nostalgia.

“You and your brothers haven’t written for a year now. Why?” You ask with curiosity. As you ask about the lack of communication from the brothers, Tomas chuckles softly and explains, “Many more new initiates. How about you? You haven’t written to us as well,” He then turns it back on you, wondering why you haven't written either. You answer in a soft voice, your smile revealing a hint of melancholy. "Life hasn't changed much for me," you reply. "I didn't want to bother you or your brother."

Tomas can only hum in response and before you could speak. “We will leave” Bi-Han commands, followed by Kuai Liang, as he walks up to you and Tomas. You immediately bow to them in greeting, and Bi-Han responds with a nod. Kuai Liang, on the other hand, returns your greeting with a slight bow.

"It was lovely seeing you three again," you say, your smile lighting up the conversation. "I hope we'll meet more in the future." There was happiness in your voice as you express this sentiment, despite the awkwardness, it was still refreshing to be in their presence. Kuai Liang responds with a simple, but sincere "I agree." Bi-Han quickly guides his brothers and the members of the clan out of the tea house, after finish repairing.

As the repair work on the tea house concludes, you realize that the only task left is the chore of cleaning. With a sigh, you mentally prepare yourself for the tedious process of scrubbing and tidying up, accepting the fact that it's part of your responsibilities. Madam Bo helped you, as always.

[weird-addiction]

If you're still writing for hotd, could you do a aemond x twin brother reader (platonic ofc). When aemond loses his eye, his brother takes his own eye on the opposite side as a form of solidarity. They have a close relationship and reader claims cannibal as aemond claims vhagar. I know it's a lot but I thought it was a good idea. Hope you have a great day

~snake anon 🐍

One in the Same

Pairing: Platonic!Aemond Targaryen x Male!Twin!Targaryen!Reader

Genre: Neutral

Warnings: Gore, taking out an eye, typical violence, threatening someone

Being the twin to a prince was never meant to be easy, well, others at the bottom would say different. That is because they have never been in his position before. Y/n was the fourth child of Alicent and Viserys, the younger twin to Aemond Targaryen. 

They said that the gods flip a coin to determine a Targaryen’s fate when they are born, one side was greatness, the other was madness. If this was indeed true, Y/n’s side of the coin would be sadness. There was not a day from the day he was born that he did felt like a void was inside of his heart, and the only way to fill it was to be close to his twin at all times. 

Since childhood, Y/n clung to Aemond’s side no matter what they were doing. Training, eating, in the library reading, the one thing they did not do was sleep in the same bed. Alicent tried everything to keep Y/n a part, as she was worried that in the future that their closeness would prevent them from finding wives, however Y/n still refused to let his brother go. 

Aemond was dragonless, so was Y/n, they were the only ones without dragons and boy were they bitter for it. 

See, Y/n was what you called the ‘the silent but deadly’ type of person. He told everything, every feeling, every emotion to his twin and no one else. And for this, he had no idea how to express himself to others freely. 

So, he did it through violent means. 

“Behold! The Pink Dread!” Aegon, Jace and Luke all said in a mocking way as the pig stood before them. 

Aemond kept his emotions inside, he would not show them that this got to him. His twin however, did not have the same reaction. 

Y/n did not hesitate as he grabbed Aegon by the collar, his fist raised as he was about to punch him. Aegon was surprised to say the least, as he flinched back from his brother’s raised hand. Jace and Luke were also shocked to see this, as Aegon was the eldest among them so no one went against him. Seeing Aegon’s own younger brother do that to him was not something they expected. 

“Tell me why I shouldn’t make you unable to see Sunfyre for a week, brother.” Y/n spat, his hand did not loosen its grip. 

“I-I’ll tell mother!” Aegon said out as a last resort. 

“Mother? Mother would thank me for knocking some sense into you.” Y/n’s eyes narrowed, the dragon burned within him brightly. 

Aegon managed to shake himself free, himself and their nephews left quickly so as to not anger him anymore. Y/n turned back to Aemond, wanting to comfort him. But, Aemond was already down the pit to see for dragons. Y/n notified a guard and Aemond was taken out before he became ashes. 

“What are you doing?! Are you trying to get killed?” Y/n looked him over for injuries. 

“I’m fine.” Aemond replied quickly, hiding his disdain for dragging him out. 

They were escorted back to their mother who was watching over Helaena with her bugs. 

“Do I have to have you both confined to your chambers-”

“They gave him a pig!” Y/n yelled, cutting Alicent off. 

Her attention went to the younger, then back to the elder to confirm if this was true. Aemond’s face said everything. 

“You both will have a dragon. One day. I promise.” Alicent brought both of her sons into a hug before leaving to talk to her husband and her eldest son for pulling such a trick on his own brothers. 

The dragon did not come to them, even them trying to claim other older dragons did not work. Y/n suggested they go to Dragonstone to take a shot with the dragons there, Alicent allowed after much persuasion. 

Once they arrived on Dragonstone, they went directly to where the dragons were kept. The dragon keepers standing there waiting for them. 

By the end of the day, Y/n had managed to fly around with a dragon so large that the shadow covered all of Dragonstone. Even the keepers were surprised, and when he landed, everyone was stunned. 

Y/n Targaryen had claimed the legendary beast that is Cannibal. 

Y/n climbed down from the dragon’s back effortlessly as he pats its side, running to hug his twin and ask the older about his own dragon. Aemond was impressed by his abilities, but rather sad as he himself was unsuccessful as claiming a dragon. 

“It’s ok! You’ll have one! You will have a dragon with wars and conquests under its belt! I promise Aemond!” Y/n exclaimed as he hugged his brother tight. 

Well, that would come true only a year later as came the death of Laena Velayron. By the end of the funeral, Aemond had run off by himself as he heard the sad roar of a dragon in the distance. 

On the other hand, Y/n was freaking out as he did not see his twin anywhere near him. He wanted to go find him but the guard said he needed to go to bed, but how could he sleep without knowing that Aemond was somewhere else? How could he sleep without knowing if Aemond was safe?

Well, he did not have to wait for long, the guards soon came and escorted him down telling him something had happened to his brother. This made Y/n practically run down the stairs to such a gorey sight before him, his twin flame, his brother who he loved so much was sitting in a chair getting stitches across his eye. Running to Aemond’s side, leeching to the elder’s side as he looked him over for other possible injuries. 

“How did this- what happened?” He quietly asked. Aemond responded with one eye movement, gaze shifting over to their nephews. 

“Which one?” Y/n’s tone now held venom, wanting vengeance and revenge to the one that did this to his twin. 

“The one that I broke the nose of.” His response made Y/n realize, of course, it was not hard to see who he was talking about after all. 

“Lucerys. Of course. Those..bastards.” Y/n truly hated saying that word, he wanted to be close to his nephews, but what they just pulled was not going to be forgotten and forgiven so easily. 

Alicent came over to the twins, giving them concerning glances. Pushing them behind her as she watched Rhaenyra come into the room. The twins held each other’s hands as they waited for what would happen to them. 

“My son has lost an eye!” Alicent exclaimed, gesturing to Aemond who sat in the chair. 

“It was my sons who were attacked, and forced to defend themselves.” Rhaenyra retorted back. “The legitimacy of my son’s birth were put loudly to question.” 

Y/n and Aemond both looked at each other and smirked, they couldn’t help it, everyone who had eyes could see it of course. 

“What did you actually do?” Y/n asked under his breath. 

“Claimed Vhagar. They say I stole her.” Aemond leaned into his forehead against Y/n’s.

“That’s stupid. You can’t steal a dragon, the dragon chooses its rider. Otherwise, I would not be alive talking. Cannibal would have eaten me.” Both of them then tuned out the rest of the conversation. Well, until their mother decided to grab the dagger sitting at their father’s belt and attack their half-sister with it. 

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?! It’s trampled under your pretty foot again!” Alicent yelled as her wrist was caught in Rhaenyra’s grip. 

“Exhausting wasn’t it? Hiding under a cloak of your own righteousness. Now they see you as you are..” Rhaenyra said back, struggling with holding the queen back. 

Alicent yelled as she forced her hand with the dagger down, the sound of fabric slicing and dagger went through the room. Rhaenyra staggered backwards, Corlys was behind her and managed to hold her before she was going to fall more. 

Aemond stood up with the help of Y/n, walking over to their mother slowly. 

Seeing that Alicent had cut Rhaenyra, Y/n wanted this to end. Grabbing the dagger from the floor before anyone could notice, and what he did next made everyone gasp in shock.

Sliding the dagger across his right eye, with force, the same thing that Luke did to his brother. The blade dropped to the ground again, this time, with way more blood than the last. Clutching his eye in pain, Y/n turned to look at both parties, blood dripping from his socket.

“Now, we are all even. I took my eye, there is no need for Luke’s.” Y/n spoke sternly.

Alicent looked in horror as another son of hers had lost an eye, now it was two eyes instead of one; and it was all from two of her own children and none from Rhaenyra. 

“Your mistake has caused my other son to take his own eye. Is this what you wanted? More of my children mutilating themselves for your sake?!” Alicent yelled, and only silence followed. 

Y/n was sent to the maester immediately as the eye also needed to be taken out. Unlike his twin however, he screamed through the entire process and held onto Aemond’s hand for dear life. Soon, the same stitches covered the scar over his eye, the opposite of Aemond’s. 

For the years to come, the people of Westeros knew the twins as the single-eyed princes. However, no one tried to get close to them. Or rather, it was the twins themselves who refused. They stayed true to each other rather than to marry some stranger they did not know. 

Aemond had a sapphire in place of his missing eye, while Y/n had a ruby in place of his. 

Two spirits stone cold but the sparks of two stones together burned brightly in between them. 

Two of the biggest dragons in the world by their side. 

No one will ever cross them ever again. 

[fantasybabygirlslutsworld]

The Realm's Light - 2

Part One Part three Part four

Part five Part six

As the saying goes,' When a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin. One side greatness, the other madness'.

However, it seems that the gods are having difficulty deciding the fate of the newest Targaryen as the labour of Princess Aemma continued for almost 15 hours.

Finally, at noon, the wails of a baby echoed throughout the palace. Queen Alysanne was the first person to be out of the birthing chamber while carrying something in her arms. The people standing outside gazed at the babe with astonished eyes.

" Mother, this is ?" Crown Prince Baelon was the first to snap out of the awestruck daze." this is my great granddaughter who her family will most cherish and this entire realm ." Queen Alysanne proudly stated.

" Give her to me, Alysanne. I too want to hold her in my arms." The old King demanded his sister-wife. "You can hold her later, Issa valzȳrys. Let the father first hold his babe ." The Queen handed the child to her still-dazed father.

" She is so tiny, father." Prince Viserys softly whispered with adoration. The Prince was carefully holding the baby as if she were a fragile thing who might break at a single touch.

"Congrats on becoming a father, cousin" Princess Rhaenys congratulated Prince Viserys after coming out from the birthing chamber. Even after becoming the wife of Corlys Velaryon,the wealthiest man in Westeros,the Princess still kept her title.

" Thank you, Rhaenys. I hoped Corylys and your children would be present upon this occasion." Prince Viserys said to his cousin. Princess Rhaenys had given birth to two healthy velaryon children three years ago. " The children can't travel on Melys due to their age, Viserys. But Corlys will soon arrive before the feast ." The Velaryon matriarch smoothly replied.

" Grandmother, I forgot to ask about Aemma. Is she okay?" Prince Viserys suddenly realised about not seeing the mother of his child who would want to see her babe. Realisation seemed to have dawned on her too ." She must have taken bathe and be resting in bed, go see her now with the babe, Viserys".

The peaceful Prince and his daughter went to see Princess Aemma. At the same time, the good Queen ordered everyone outside to go prepare for the grand feast only for their immediate family amidst the whining of her husband and son to hold the newborn Targaryen.

Inside the chamber, Princess Aemma could be seen lying on the bed. The aftermath of childbirth took a toll on her as she grew tired.

" Aemma, look who had come to see you." Viserys who was his daughter calmly said. Hearing his voice, Princess Aemma groggily woke from her nap.

Upon seeing her husband holding their baby, whatever fatigue she had seem to be completely disappeared.

" Oh my god! My darling Princess. I am your mother. Oh, Viserys ! She is perfect. Our daughter is perfect." Princess Aemma starts to softly cry while looking at her daughter. The babe seems to have sensed her mother because she suddenly opened her eyes for the first time. Her parents both gasped at seeing her eyes. One eye was emerald green while the other was Targaryen violet. Viserys' eyes glistened with tears as his own mother, Alyssa Targaryen, had two different eye colours. Looking at his daughter now - silver blonde hair with heterochromatic eyes is like looking at his mother's face once again.

If his father had seen her now, he would have broken into tears and said his mother had been reborn as his daughter.

"Do you have anything in mind regarding her name, darling?" Prince Viserys asked his wife." You had once told me that your mother was fond of the name

'Mariana' and wanted to name her daughter that, Viserys." Princess Aemma told.  " Yes. She indeed wanted that name for her daughter. However, her wish went unfulfilled. " Viserys mirthfully said.

"Hence, I want to fulfil your mother's wish by keeping the name for our daughter in your mother's honour, Viserys " Princess Aemma said with a gentle smile.

" Mariana Targaryen is indeed a name fit for a princess, Aemma. Everyone is going to love her name" Viserys said while softly gazing at his daughter now sleeping in his arms.

It is said that the coin has never flipped on one side as the gods can't decide Mariana Targaryen's fate which made her life full of uncertain future. But one thing is sure. Mariana Targaryen will be the only chance for the house of the dragon to be stopped from destruction.

----------------------------------------------------------

Author's note : hope you like another chapter done hurriedly by my inexperienced self.

@cwallace02sblog @bitchycollectorvoid

@universallyrascaldreamercookie @snowtargaryen @girl-of-multi-fandoms @kpopfanfictionfantacies @sadmonke @immyowndefender

@missbmc94

[xthecaptainssaviorx]

Ewan Mitchell as Aemond Targaryen in new behind the scenes footage for season 2 of House of the Dragon

"They say that when a Targaryen is born the gods flip a coin. One side is greatness and the other side is madness and I think Aemond thinks himself as the pinnacle of that Targaryenism. The crescendo of it (...) He has a choice between season one and season two, he can either admit what he did to Luke and Arrax was a mistake or he can return home, own what he did, and become the most wanted man in the realm.

[lovedreamer11]

"when a targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin” and “half of the targaryen went mad”

For me this is another reason to hate GOT

[chaosfae-writes]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧

premise: whenever a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin—madness isn’t the birthright, it’s sorrow.

pairing: yandere!rhaenyra targaryen x poc!targaryen!reader

warnings: sibling incest, possessive behavior, mention of major characters deaths, paranoia, cruelty, dark wlw implied smut.

a/n: grrm really said for targaryen women, “double it and give it to the next person.”

Betrayal and fear are the double heads of a coin.

Paranoia is its child.

A wounded mother’s rage is feral, unhinged as a cornered animal. Four little dragons slain for the sake of war, and a husband lost to the sea.

Rhaenyra — no longer the realm’s delight, but a queen who’s shadowed by darkness. Targaryen women are cursed since birth, bearing tragedy within themselves as an unborn babe.

It’s in their blood, nestled in the marrow of their bones, made of unfathomable ancestral sins and starving voids. Born from angry men, and despaired women — whenever a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin—madness isn’t the birthright, it’s sorrow.

The towns folk shout from the bellows of flea bottom, pleading for help, spitting on her name. Exhausted, and scared.

“Murderer!”

“Cunt!”

“The Black Queen is the wretchedest of women!”

So wretched she shall be.

As they starve and perish, she engorges in feasts, harshly taxing the poor for the last coins they barely own. Executing any who even glances upon her wrongfully— paranoid of anyone, walk on eggshells in her presence.

Beheading any servant who she perceives to be a new lover of yours, but you’ve only ever been faithful to Rhaenyra and Daemon.

Rhaenyra sees any man or woman as a threat to your marital vows.

Teeth, and bruises, possessive grip your soul; Aegon and yourself cannot linger far from her sight. Murmurs under her breath, stares soullessly in the roaring fire pit, manic outbursts that have influenced her only surviving son to be tumultuous.

She makes love as if she’s fighting, always in control, withering on top, fingers gripping tightly your flesh as if you will slip away.

Momentary bliss to be fucked in such manner, thrusting against her, your flesh craving for her. But as the high falls down, you’re reminded of the reality— that she’s not well.

Threatened to cage you in a cell, accused you of the conspiracy of infidelity, spitefully bringing up Daemon to hurt you — still grieving over your late husband, your precious kepus.

Even your own thoughts have no reprieve from her. Kneeling now, silver crown bowed in holy devotion, praying to the Gods — to free Rhaenyra of her pilt, for the safe passage for the souls of your boys, for your late husband, and the masses.

Even for your late nephews, and sweet sister, may the Gods be merciful.

The town folk deserve a good ruler, no matter what lies between their legs, just an heir who will guide them to prosperity. To have food, land, and a warm home.

Your fingers interlocked, hovering over your skull, murmuring under your breath — have been in this position for a while. Fruitlessly praying for many fortnights.

Subtle footfalls near but your mind is so distraught.

“What ails you, sister? Praying to the Gods?”

Milky fingers slither the slope of your neck, tracing the sore purplish bruise, tightening your shoulder, wincing and silently gasping at the sting.

“Prayers of what?” Rhaenyra’s fingers glide to your chin, her thumb stroking your lip, “Prayers for me?” Her voice eerily pitches mockingly honeyed sweet.

“What of me, you speak of?” Her voice is breathy and tense, false sweetness to entrap you.

Your breathing becomes haggard, mumbling inaudibly. Rhaenyra hums, she guides your head upward, but you fearfully close your eyes.

Those chilled violet eyes — she doesn’t look like herself when she becomes enraged, rather beastly.

No matter your response, she won’t believe you.

“Keeping secrets?” Rhaenyra roars, her hands tug the hem of your dress, snagging your body harshly away from the altar, to the flooring ungracefully.

“Kostilus Rhaenyra, nyke mērī jorepagon syt ao naejot jiōragon sȳrkta!” Please Rhaenyra, I only pray for you to get better.

Crawling on all fours as a dog, you try to cower away in the corner, but your sister persists on her delusions. She rushes over you, hunched over, her body crashing over yours. Limbs entangled, your wrists encased in her hands.

Shouting her spewing poison.

“Praying naejot se gods naejot sagon dāez yno? Daor sesīr se olvie kraj gods kostagon laodigon ao hen nyke!” Praying to the Gods to be free of me? Not even the most powerful Gods can steal you from me!

Rhaenyra rips the threads of your dress, as a blood-hound. She’s mad, by the Gods she’s mad! No longer is she the joyous wife you once adored, but now a cruel creature.

Wrestling on the marble floor, Rhaenyra just claws at your undergarments as if the fabric offends her to be in her way of your body.

“Rhaenyra, please I beseech you to be calm!”

Without a word, Rhaenyra lounges at your bare breast, teeth nibbling, sloppy and rabid. Your fingers fumble and grip her sleeve, your head tilting back, your back arching into her body.

“Kneeling for hours, head bowed —- our enemies shall be on their knees, pleading for us. Who aided you to create your altar?”

You mumbled that no one did, you created it over the years in honor of the gods. But she doesn’t listen, she hasn’t in a long time.

“A few servants have been near you, some of them serve in The Faith.” Rhaenyra mutters that she will like each servant up, “Perhaps their whispers have influenced you, trying to conspire against me. Praying for my downfall.”

As the sun falls upon the horizon, Rhaenyra takes you apart, orgasm and orgasm — and your body succumbs to her, cradling her skull into your palm, you accepted your fate.

This is who she is now.

-

The next morning, your prayer room is bare, with only the altar spared, but even it was violated.

The altar space is covered with a white fabric, no longer allowed to have your last inkling of personal space. Ripped away from you all due to paranoia.

You weep in the middle of the room, leaning from foot to foot, hugging yourself against your chest, your breasts flinching by the graze of the cotton nightgown — fresh bruises by her mouth.

“My love.” Rhaenyra’s voice echoes, “Come back to bed” Her voice lowers just a little, “The bed is chilled without you.” Soft subtle clicks of her heels against the flooring, “Later in the evening, Aegon would like for his mothers to read to him.”

Rhaenyra’s fingers glide against your waist, tugging you — firmly as a threat. Her head nears the shell of your ear, “An altar is no place for a queen to be on her knees,” she kisses behind your ear, earning a shudder.

This is who she is now.

A queen blackened by sorrow.

[sofoulandfairaday]

Please share all of your Sirius and Bellatrix thoughts ♥️

I have way too many, darling.

The TLDR is it is our choices that show us who we truly are, far more than our abilities. The long version is under the cut.

When reading about them I usually prefer stories where their original 8-9 year gap is preserved (it annoys me to no end when people write the Order and the Death Eaters as entirely made up of people in the same couple of years in Hogwarts —really? Was the conflict exclusively waged by child soldiers? Were Dumbledore and Voldemort just chilling before 1977, when they decided to start recruiting?). With that being said, I can also enjoy fics where - for shipping purposes - their ages are more compatible, to make them share time in Hogwarts or during the First Wizarding War.

I think they are very, very alike personality-wise. The narrative draws some delicious writing parallels between them, both physically and in their expressions, vices and virtues, and choices. Directly between them, might I add. The author underlines the difference between Bella and Narcissa more than once, we're meant to see it, and similarly we're meant to see the similarities between Bella & Sirius.

They are haughty, passionate, powerful, competent, arrogant, bright, much more intelligent than the fandom thinks they are. In general, they suffer from the stigmatization that many characters - but some people in real life do too - that someone who is intense and impulsive cannot possibly be as intelligent as people who are meek, soft-spoken, generally more controlled. Think what the fandom does to Sirius vs Remus and Bella vs her sisters, when every arrow points to the fact that they are actually the cleverest in these pairings.

They are both some shade of mentally ill, and not because of the curse of the Blacks - half the Blacks went mad didn't they? What's the saying? Every time a Black is born the gods flip a coin. god the Targaryen-Black parallels are gold - Sirius is very likely horribly depressed in OOTP, something no one around him seems to understand, infuriatingly. The only one that seems to get it is Harry, who has the literal Dark Lord living in his brain (= bigger problems to deal with). Bella is... I don't know what she is, ask me after my psychiatry module next year, but my money is on PTSD after Azkaban - after all, she didn't have the escape of an Animagus form behind bars. She would also very likely be victim-blamed for these different feelings, which would lend itself to a delicious nobody else in the world understands us but us type of post-Azkaban dark!fic which I would love to read.

They are both skilled at magic, and while they might despise each other for their respective political views, they respect each other because of this. Bella is probably above him in terms of magical power and skill, because she's 9 years older and because of Voldemort's training, but Sirius seemed to be keeping up quite well with her during their fight in the DoM.

Speaking of which, I am sure that Bellatrix's scream of triumph was due to her winning their duel, not because she thought she had killed him and that is probably the single thing I love the most about HBC's interpretation of her in the movies. That look. 10/10.

I am of the opinion that Bella is all bark and no bite when it comes to certain members of her family, especially her sisters. Sure, she might say that she wants to prune her family tree but 30 years later in the beginning of DH, she still calls Andromeda sister. I'm sure she would want nothing more than to put him under lock and key for the rest of his life and never let him escape, not kill him. And, to me, the way Sirius speaks of his family is very interesting. I'm sure he firmly believes that he hates them, but his actual feelings are more complex than that. You can hate someone and still desire their love, their respect. You can hate that they are the only people in the world who understand you - and hate yourself more in turn, for it.

Sirius seems to me like someone haunted by his own darkness. He, much like Harry, would be constantly worried that he's becoming like them. I'm sure it's a weak spot for him and I wish we had heard more bickering, or at least a full interaction between Bella and Sirius (I feel like she would claim him as hers, underline how much he cannot escape his own blood, even just to mock him/unsettle him in battle). But what Dumbledore says to Harry is true: it doesn't matter how alike they are, it's their choices that matter much more. And I feel like this is why the two of them would never reconcile in canon. They stand for different things.

I also think there might be some - and I know Freud is controversial nowadays, but bear with me - penis envy, on her part. Because Sirius was born the heir - something she would have given her left hand to be: to be born and die a Black instead of being expected to marry into another family - and he squandered it all away by consorting with werewolves and mudbloods. But no. He got everything and pissed on it, and it's just not fair. And by choosing not to come back, even in the two years after Regulus' death, he made sure that the Black Family name will die with him- and I think that is just something she can never ever forgive him.

Now. Everybody knows I don't like TCC and my preferred view of Bella is someone with fertility issues, even to the point of being sterile.

[I read an amazing fanfic once and a line from it stuck in my brain - "If I can't be life, then I'll be death"]

But. If we do see it as canon. This is also the reason why - despite being overjoyed at Delphi's birth - I am convinced that she wished for a boy when she was pregnant. If she had a boy with the Dark Lord, who couldn't possibly give them his name, the House of Black would have an heir. This is also the reason why I don't thing she was necessarily opposed to having children with Rodolphus - the "spare" would have been her heir.

Bellatrix would say that Regulus was her favourite cousin, but truth be told, it was really Sirius whom she respected more - at her core, in my opinion, Bellatrix is really only someone who respects power. Sirius is like her that way.

But Bellatrix is clearly a cruel person, which Sirius is not (or at least, he tries not to be: Kreacher and Snape are two very particular cases of people who are mean to him back). Also, Sirius' view of the world is much more egalitarian - If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals. Bellatrix is clearly someone who sees the world in terms of hierarchies, and lives within them (see: how she acts around Voldemort and what is implied of her treatment of house-elves who obey their masters: there is a scale and some serve others, and as long as they do so well they have certain rights; disobey, you get punished).

(Bellatrix is somewhat a feminist character but let's be real- she's not a revolutionary. She went to the Dark Lord and showed him just how powerful she was - aka my wand is bigger than all these male DEs' - and he said "okay, fair, I'll give you the Mark", thereby freeing herself. She is not a "equal representation for women inside terrorist organizations!!" type of girlie)

I also love how her death parallels Sirius'. It's thematically beautiful and it excuses her death coming at the hands of one Molly Weasley (who could never ever in a million years have beaten her on skill alone). She dies because she is arrogant. It's one of her traits. Overconfidence. She was always meant to die like that.

[coincidentally one of the reasons why she would not be a hufflepuff like some suggest: this woman is not humble]

I could go on, but I think I've rambled enough.

P.S. Let's not sleep on the fact that the two of them together would be hot.

[hetalia-club]

Game of Thrones AU lore- House Targaryen

Other houses: Targaryen Stark Greyjoy Lannister Tyrell

Going to kick it off with the Targaryen Family. If you've never watched GOT just know that the Targaryen family is fucked okay? It's their thing. You can't make a GOT AU and ignore that it's part of it. Breaking it up like this is also the easiest way to explain this AU with out it being crazy long.

Targaryen family for non GOT watchers- Targaryen's are also known as Dragon Tamers. Due to their old and magical blood they can link their minds with dragons. and form a life long connection. Typically just one for their entire life. If that dragon dies they will usually be too heart broken to get another. But as long as the dragon does not die in battle the Dragons life span greatly surpasses theirs. The link typically happens when the Targaryen is young and so is the Dragon and they grow up together. Usually Targaryen's have just the one dragon but on rare occasions they will have a couple. Like 2 dragons with a really close bond may attach themselves to the same Targaryen (seen in Danny's dragons)

^^ Concept Art for the Red Keep (Left) & Dragon Stone (Right) Targaryen Family Tree

(please don't take offence to any of these personality shifts. I did my best to fit them into the world and this is my AU that I use as an outline to write stories with some some characters are more fleshed out than others because they appear in one or more of my stories I've written.)

King Gilbert Targaryen- the king of the Seven Kingdoms. He's young for a king. Only 25 years old. He's also objectively a bad king. The gods flip a coin every time a Targaryen is born and this was a bad flip. He uses the gods as an excuse to burn castles to teh ground if anyone makes him mad for any reason at all. He's also a worse father thank he is a king. Which is pretty impressive. Gilbert's Dragon- Silverclaw- A smaller sized female dragon with shimmering silver scales and turquoise eyes. She is sleek and has a very large wing span. She is the fastest dragon alive currently.

Prince Ivan Targaryen- Ivan is the crowed Prince and is also the Lord of Dragon stone. He does not live in kings landing and instead rules their home lands in his fathers stead. He is betrothed to his sister Natalia and is plotting to have her killed so he does not have to marry her. Unlike his father Ivan is not mad. he does have a tempter like all Targaryens do but he enjoys reading more normal activities rather than feeding prisoners to his dragon for entertainment. Ivan's Dragon- Vagor- a very large dragon bad tempered male dragon. He had golden eyes and dark navy blue scales that look black until he is in the sun.

Emil Targaryen- Is the cousin of the prince and the King is his uncle. He lives in teh castle with his sister, and father. Emil is a young teen with dragon dreams. He has a very close bond with his dragon and spends a lot of time flying it, he’s been nearly everywhere. He will often leave in the middle of the night and be gone for months and come back with some insane stories and in a lot of trouble with his father. Emil's Dragon- Jaedor- a mid sized dragon male dragon with Oranges eyes and yellow and orange scales.

Feliks Targaryen- The brother of the king and is the Master of Whispers. Spends nearly all of his time trying to foil assassins sent to kill his brother and smooth over problems that the kings caused. Felik's Dragon- Neerhem The Dread- a large dragon male dragon with vibrant purple scales and dark green eyes. This is the dragon they send when they want a message sent. Neerhem's flames are hot enough to melt castle bricks and turn soldiers to ash. despite his feared persona he's actually a very chill dragon and likes to sleep most of the day.

Princess Natalia- Natalia is her father's clear favorite child. He and Natalia have always shared similar interests and he's found little in common with Ivan. So Natalia is used to getting everything she wants from her father. She's spoiled and makes life hell for her servants. She is still very young so she doesn't get up to much of anything yet. Natalia's Dragon- Alyrya- a young female dragon with bright white scales and red eyes. She is too young to ride, just as Natalia is too young to actually ride her but they do spend a lot of time together in the dragon pits.

Elise Targaryen- The daughter of Felix and sister of Emil. She is only five in this universe and does not really do or say much of anything. Elise's Dragon- Has not bonded with a dragon yet