#whispers of the dragon: a forbidden love

[urdnotstxrm]

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen & Reader

AU: The Targaryen family dynamics are a blend of political intrigue and personal emotions. Rhaenyra Targaryen, the strong-willed and fiery daughter of King Viserys, is caught in a dilemma. Her father has decreed that for her to secure the Iron Throne, she must marry your brother, a match designed to solidify alliances and secure her claim. Despite this, Rhaenyra's heart belongs to you.

The evening was lively as Rhaenyra Targaryen graced your family's household with her presence. Laughter and conversation filled the air inside the grand hall, where your family and Rhaenyra's entourage were gathered. The warmth of the fire and the clinking of goblets created a vibrant atmosphere. However, Rhaenyra's mind was elsewhere. Excusing herself from the festivities, she made her way outside, her steps guided by an unseen force. In the cool evening air, she walked towards the stables, drawn by a feeling she could not ignore. The sound of hooves and the gentle whinnying of horses filled the silence. There, she found you, brushing down one of the horses, the lantern's light casting a soft glow on your face. She paused, watching you for a moment before stepping forward.

"I thought I might find you here," she said softly, her voice carrying a mix of relief and longing. "The celebrations inside... they feel so distant compared to this." You looked up, surprise flashing in your eyes before it was replaced by a warm, welcoming smile. "Rhaenyra," you greeted her, setting aside the brush. "I didn't expect you to come out here."

"I needed some air," she admitted, moving closer. "And perhaps... I needed to see you." She reached out, gently touching the side of the horse, her fingers brushing against yours. The simple contact sent a thrill through you both. "You should be inside, enjoying yourself," you said, though there was no real conviction in your voice.

"I don't want to marry your brother," she whispered, her hand moving to rest on your chest, her voice trembling. "I can't imagine a life with him when my heart belongs to you. Please, go to my father and ask for my hand. It's the only way we can be together." She leaned in, her forehead resting against yours, her breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. Her words struck a deep chord within you, the longing in her eyes mirrored in your own. But you knew the truth, a truth that weighed heavily on your heart. "Rhaenyra," you began, your voice soft but firm, "I wish I could. More than anything, I wish I could ask your father for your hand and be with you openly. But I can't." She frowned, confusion and hurt flickering across her face.

"Why not? If we love each other, why can't we be together?" You took a deep breath, steadying yourself for what you had to say. "I yielded my right to the leadership of my house, Rhaenyra. I chose the path of knighthood, entrusting my younger brother with the role of leader. He is the one destined to lead our house, and I cannot undermine that decision. It would bring dishonor to my family and chaos to our house." Rhaenyra shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "But you are the one I want, the one I need. Surely there must be a way..." You took her hands in yours, holding them tightly. "I would give anything to be with you, Rhaenyra. But our world is built on duty and honor. If I were to go to your father now, it would not only betray my brother but also bring great strife to our families. I cannot do that to you, or to the realm." Her tears began to fall, and you gently wiped them away with your thumb.

"So, what are we to do? Live in secret? Love each other in stolen moments?" You nodded, your heart breaking with the truth of it. "For now, that may be all we can have." She leaned into you, seeking solace in your embrace, and you held her close, wishing that the world were different, that duty did not stand in the way of love. But in that moment, all you could do was hold on to each other, cherishing the time you had, however fleeting it might be.

[sombredancer]

Asian dramas and Love tropes

There are my favorite characters and their love stories as a list. Enemies to lovers

Drama: Her Royal Highness/长公主在上 Characters: Gu Xuanqing x Li Yunzhen Screentime: Main A boy is sent to be a servant in the unruly princess`s palace in order to find some dirt about her and to help his master to overthrown her, but something goes wrong... The HE is attached.

Drama: The Legends/招摇 Characters: Li Chenlan x Lu Zhaoyao Screentime: Main A leader of a demonic sect died trying to get a demonic sword. Her soul returns to the world full of wish to get revenge on the current leader of her sect, who, as she thinks, killed her in the past. Found the way to be close to him, she learns that he wasn't the reason of her death and, moreover, desperately in love with her for many-many years. This is an adaptation of the novel "Ostentatious Zhaoyao", which I love more than a drama, but it's a good story in both variants. The HE is attached (although it`s a little bit obscure in the drama).

Drama: Till the End of the Moon/ 长月烬明 Characters: Tantai Jin x Li Susu Screentime: Main A boy who is destined to become a Demon God and to destroy the World tries to fight his doom. In a process, he falls in love with a transmigrator, who was sent 500 years back in the past to prevent his transformation into a Demon God. The irony is,making him falling in love is the only way to kill him for good... It`s an adaptation of the novel "Black Moonlight Holds the BE Script", which I like way-way-way more than the drama, not the least because the drama has BE and the novel has HE. I just watched it as a visually beautiful fanfic to the novel.

Drama: Love Between Fairy and Devil /苍兰诀 Characters: Dongfang Qingcang x Xiao Lanhua Screentime: Main My favorite drama of all times! Trying to save her love, a girl accidently falls into a secret prison for immortal criminals, revives the most fearsome demon of all times and heals his ability to feel. Later, forced to spend his time together with the girl from the enemy camp, the demon finds out that he actually likes her... The HE is attached. I wrote A LOT about them and made recap of the whole drama from the point of their relationship development in these posts: one, two, three, four, five and six.

Drama: My Journey to You /云之羽 Characters: Gong Shangjue x Shangguan Qian Screentime: Secondary In order to destroy the martial artist's clan, a female assassin was sent in there. While she is trying to seduce one of clan's young masters, he tries to expose her lies, but, eventually, falls in love with her. Unrequited. Maybe. This story has an open ending. My analysis of their relationship is here.

Drama: Butterflied lover /风月变 Characters: Ling Changjin x Bao Zhu Screentime: Secondary A wicked nobleman marries a princess because of her miraculous blood: it`s able to bring his zombie sister back to life. The princess allows him to treat her bad because she has been in love with him for a long time and believes he is a good person. Bit by bit he starts believe in it himself and begins to cherish his wife more... The ending is obscure (in a traditional Chinese way).

Drama: The Blue Whisper /与君初相识 Characters: Li Shu x Xue Sanyue Screentime: Minor A cat demon prince infiltrates the valley of demon hunters in order to set free the great demoness, but falls in love with one of demon hunters. Mutually. The ending is traditionally Chinese - they met again in another life. Т_Т

Drama: Immortal Samsara / 沉香如屑 Characters: Xuan Ye x Ran Qing Screentime: Minor An Asura king infiltrates the Heavenly Realm in order to steal the artifact that can help him conquering the world. The keeper of this artefact is a brave and honest goddess and he can't help but fall in love with her. After, he needs to choose: to be with his lover or to rule the world. He wants all at once, but there is no way to get it all. No HE for this pair. Pride and Prejudice

Drama: Lighter and Princess / 点燃我 Characters: Li Xun x Zhu Yun Screentime: Main A girl from a rich family with an anxious type of attachment falls in love with her classmate from a poor family with an avoidant type of attachment and tries to win his heart. It`s a problematic ship in a full meaning of these words and I like it this way. Yummy! The HE is attached.

Drama: Derailment /脱轨 Characters: Qi Lian x Jiang Xiaoyuan Screentime: Main A boy accidently meets his school sweetheart after many years of radio silence and understands that something is wrong with her. It turns out that her body is occupied by a transmigrator from a parallel world. At first he hates transmigrator for replacing his lover, but bit by bit he learns, that a transmigrator has not only the same appearance but the same habits and way of thinking, and falls in love with this new personality again... The story ends with HE but not in a way that you may think it would.

Drama: The Love by Hypnotic /明月照我心 Characters: Li Qian x Li Mingyue Screentime: Main In order to build relationship between two countries an emperor arranges marriage for his son. His fiancée is from a barbaric tribe: she is good at horse riding and archery, but knows nothing about palace etiquette and ladies stuff. It`s a light and sweet story about finding a path to each other's heart. The HE is attached.

Drama: The Long Ballad /长歌行 Characters: Hao Du x Li Leyan Screentime: Secondary A tsundere of a low background with a poker face does his ruthless job in a court, that's why a young princess thinks he is an awful man and is scared of him. But in reality he is a loyal servant and son and, moreover, secretly in love with the princess, who can't stand him... The HE is attached.

Drama: Miss the Dragon /遇龙 Characters: Xue Qianxun x Qingqing Screentime: Secondary A very naïve bird demon girl accidently meets a tsundere god of netherworld and turns his well ordered life into havoc. He starts liking it, though. The HE is attached. Forbidden love

Drama: A Frozen Flower /쌍화점 Characters: Hong Rim x No Guk Screentime: Main A gay king needs a heir, so he forces his lover to conceive a child with a queen. In a process, a boy, who was groomed as a king's lover from his childhood, finds out that he likes women much more than men. A traditional Korean tragedy. Very beautiful and full of feelings, though. (No GIFs because they all would be erotic ones).

Drama: 100 Days My Prince /백일의 낭군님 Characters: Moo-yeon x Kim So-hye Screentime: Secondary An assassin who is working for a wicked court official is secretly in love with a wife of a crown prince, who happens to be a daughter of the killer of his parents. Forbidden love doubles! But it's mutual, unfortunately for him. It's a very beautiful and full of desperation and feelings story. No HE, we die like Koreans. More detailed story of their relationship is available here, here and here.

Drama: The Yin-Yang Master: Dream of Eternity/晴雅集 Characters: He Shouye x Zhang Ping Screentime: Secondary A woman, who is destined to restrain the undying evil within her body for eternity in solitude, falls in love with Yin-Yang master. Her love is mutual, but her lover can't be with her forever, so he leaves with her his guardian demon to brighten her loneliness. Protecting her for ever starts being the only goal of demon's life... A tragedy, but a beautiful one.

Drama: The Legends/招摇 Characters: Gu Hanguang x Shen Qianjin Screentime: Minor "The Legends" once more! The main doctor of a demonic sect is in love with a leader of a righteous sect. A girl is not allowed to love anyone, otherwise she will suffer from the poison, so he anonymously sends her packages of medicinal herbs. She is curious about anonymous sender, too. But nothing can be kept in secret forever... Unfortunately, no HE for these two. In the novel he is safe and sound, but he has no love plotline at all. So is a price of love Т_Т.

I will talk about my other favorite characters and tropes in the next post.

Also you can see: Enemies to Rivals/Lovers recipe Asian dramas and relationship dynamics (Pt. 1) Asian dramas and relationship dynamics (Pt. 2) Asian dramas and my favorite types of characters

[nebulaafterdark]

The Blacks & The Greens

Summary: A marriage of convenience is not enough to bridge the gap between their warring houses. Y/N and Aegon pay the price for his crown. Based off this request.

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

Roughish sex, Targcest, angst, depictions of stillbirth.

Y/N and Aegon marry out of convenience. To keep peace, to mend a house broken long before they were born.

Aegon does not mind bedding her, she is pretty enough. He does not mind watching her swell with his heir, he enjoys it even, paying special attention to Y/N as she grows.

“Does it hurt?” He wonders, tracing a little hand or foot across the skin of her abdomen.

“No,” Y/N smiles, passing a hand over his hair.

Aegon kisses her bump, bidding her and his child a good night before making his way down to the pleasure house.

Their first child, a son named Laenor, is Aegon’s pride and joy. His heart swells with something close to love for his wife, the first time he sees bits of her in their son’s features.

Y/N loves Laenor, carrying him about, showing him the Red Keep and all her favorite places in it. Aegon joins them, on occasion, sharing quiet moments with his little family.

Outside of Laenor, they exchange few words. Refusing to share apartments, but Aegon sneaks into her room more often than not, after nights spent in the company of other women.

“I could never fuck you like that.” He tells his wife, words slurred from his cups.

“I would let you.” Y/N assures him.

“You make my heart ache.” Aegon admits, “I hate when you do that.”

“I do not mean to,” Y/N sighs.

Aegon rests a hand over her beating heart. “I know.”

————————————————————————

When asked for another heir, they are more than happy to provide. Exchanging sloppy kisses and sweet words, but never love, it couldn’t be love. Not with the twisted, possessive way of it.

“Beg,” Aegon demands, fucking her roughly enough that air is punched from her lungs with each snap of his hips.

“Please,” Y/N wails, clinging to him desperately.

“Please what?”

“Fill me with your heir, I wish to bear you a hundred children.”

Aegon grins, brushing sweat damp hair from her forehead. “I adore you, you know?”

Her eyes shoot open, meeting his.

“My pretty, bastard wife.”

The princess’s breath hitches, her cunt clenching around him.

“Enjoyed that, did you?”

There is no point in denying it, she likes the way he says it. The way he acknowledges it without insulting her. “Yes.”

“I do not care who sired you. You are mine now, bastard. Mine to fuck and breed. Mine to love, until we are both cold in our graves.”

Love? “Aegon?”

“You heard me well and clear.”

“I love-”

Aegon seals his mouth over hers, swallowing the words. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“Why?” Y/N asks, with big fat tears welling up in her eyes.

“You hold it inside until you burst or pour it over my cock as you milk me, but you do not say it.” Aegon sneers. He couldn’t be loved, he wouldn’t be, by her least of all.

The princess nods, allowing him to cradle her head against his shoulder. Whispering those forbidden words over and over, while she is never allowed to speak them. Her heart aches.

Like every other aspect of their marriage, this too is complicated.

————————————————————————-

Y/N’s term is nearing its end when her grandsire passes and Aegon is forced to usurp her mother’s throne. With blood running down her legs before Aegon is crowned in the dragon pit, she is rushed swiftly away to labor in her chambers.

Now that Aegon is king, he is allowed at her side without contest. Watching as their second child is brought into the world. The babe does not cry, something inside him knows….

The grand Maester is called to work on the child, a sweet little girl with silver hair.

Y/N begins pushing with the second, her tear stained face pleading for him.

Aegon goes to her, because that is all he knows how to do. He goes to her and holds her hand.

“Aegon,” she cries.

“Shhhh,” he hushes her.

“Will the babe live?”

He presses a kiss to her forehead, “I need you to calm yourself, dearest.”

“I can’t.”

“We must focus on this babe,” Aegon brushes a hand over her belly. “They need their mother to provide them safe passage into the world.”

“I want to see her.” Y/N cries, searching for her child.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart.” Aegon says, “so terribly sorry.”

Y/N bares down, sobbing as she does. The child is safe within her, the same cannot be said after it enters this cruel world. “I do not want to lose my child.”

“I will give you another,” Aegon promises, knowing that a thousand children can never make up for the one they’ve lost. “As many as you wish. Please, allow me to get you through this. You must live, our son needs you, I need you.”

“You must keep pushing my queen.”

Y/N brings her third child into the world, expecting the worst. But the little girl cries.

“Thank the gods,” Aegon lets his head fall against his wife’s chest. “Thank the gods.”

The child is laid against her.

“Healthy?”

“Kicking like a goat, my Queen.”

Aegon looks to his wife, their perfect babe in her arms. “I love you.”

Y/N nods, choking on her grief and joy and love for him.

“Say it, my heart.” Aegon feels it on the tip of her tongue, “it’s alright.”

“I love you,” Y/N laments, “I love you and I’m sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for.”

“Our babe-”

“None of this is your fault. Please know that.”

Y/N nods, not entirely convinced.

The King and Queen spend days in that bed, mourning their loss, unaware of Rhaenyra’s similar suffering across the sea.

There is no war so hateful as a war between kin, they will all pay the price for it; the Blacks and the Greens.

[venusbyline]

Envy ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 02, oct.

— pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x sister!reader

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: breeding

— summary: After Jaehaerys' murder, Aegon needs a new heir. His sister-wife is incapacitated by grief and you are the perfect choice to carry the next king.

— word count: 3.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 2nd day, Targcest (older brother/younger sister), Targaryen!reader, dark!Aegon, breeding kink, dubcon, loss of virginity, degradation, blood, creampie, sexism, overstimulation, slapping, sadism, dom!Aegon, sub!reader, minor Helaegon, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n

— crossposting: AO3

We must to say that Aegon II being furious about the murder of his heir was an euphemism. He ordered all ratcatchers should be executed and he wasn’t worried at all about the negative impact this might have on his image as King. He didn't care if the commoners would consider him a cruel man or not, he wasn't worried if the Small Council or even his own mother would give him an unbearable lecture.

Seven Hells, Aegon was the King. He sat on The Iron Throne. He should have the right to decide how to deal or not with grieving for his son. His little boy. His heir. His Jaehaerys.

Aegon needed an heir. He needed someone who would be dignified of sitting on The Iron Throne. Someone who would be brave and strong like Jaehaerys could have been if he had lived long enough to be an adult. Someone who wouldn't be so fragile and stupid like Jaehaera would probably be over the years. Someone who would be a man.

He needed breed another boy and ensure his bloodline on the Throne. However, just one look inside the shared chamber was enough to see that Helaena couldn't stand it. Even with the candles already out, Aegon could see her disheveled hair and the way she was lying on the bed, curled up like a ball, her big eyes staring at the windows of the room. She wasn't sleeping, but she didn't look alive either.

At worst, Aegon could force her into the act. But he wasn't in the mood to be so cruel, at least not with Helaena, not like this anymore. Despite doesn't loving his sister-wife, Aegon knew she was suffering too. Maybe even more than him. She was traumatized and it was clear. Having sex with her in that state would be exceeding a limit that he already promised himself wouldn't happen again. Not with her.

The King sighed, closing the door and leaving Helaena alone for her sake. He walked aimlessly through the castle's hallways for more than five minutes, trying to think about any alternative to that whole mission.

When he saw one of Alicent's maids walking around with a pile of dresses in her hands, a slightly macabre idea crossed his mind. The young man held the woman by the arm, while staring at her scary face with a cold gaze. "Take my other sister to my special accommodation. Immediately. And don't you dare tell anyone about this, unless you want to end up hanging just like those bastards rat-catching."

Aemond's twin sister was a complicated little thing in Aegon's life. You were sweet and naive like Helaena, but unlike his sister-wife when they were forced to marry, the youngest girl cultivated real affection for Aegon. Even more than for her own twin.

"Brother?" You asked confused as soon as the maid left you into Aegon's forbidden room with a worried look. You didn't know much about that specific chamber, just that Aegon didn't allow anyone to enter there without his permission. You had also heard many whispers through the hallways that indicated sometimes Aegon brought his favorite courtesans there to get more pleasure, away from the chaos of the brothels on the Street of Silk.

Your eyes narrowed, analyzing the dimly lit place with a keen curiosity, until you finally heard your older brother's voice coming out of the shadows.

"Rytsas, my little dove. You look beautiful tonight." Aegon whispered with a hoarser voice than usual, lighting some candles that were nearby.

The girl blushed at the routine pet name, smiling softly at her brother. "Kirimvose, Your Grace." Then you watched Aegon's tired face and swallowed hard before speaking. "I want to express my profound condolences about Jaehaerys again..." The same speech he had heard most during those last hours filled Aegon's ears and he grimaced, but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, knowing you were just being kind and genuine. His beautiful and sweet little sister...

"Enough. We won't talk about my son's death now." Aegon murmured, trying so hard not to sound too cold, and gestured to the large bed next to him. "Sit with me, my little dove. I need to talk to you..."

You furrowed, fidgeting with your fingers by a bit of agony. Things were really weird that night. When your mother's maid called you with some urgency saying that the King wanted to see you, you thought Aegon just wanted someone to talk about Jaehaerys's grief. You were one of the few people who seemed to understand his suffering and the weight the crown was bringing to his mind. But now, being inside Aegon's forbidden room didn't seem like very appropriate, especially when Aegon wasn't in his best mental state.

"Brother... I don't know if-" Aegon interrupted you with a shout.

"DON'T YOU DARE QUESTION MY ORDERS!"

Your violet eyes filled with tears as you nodded and moved to the mattress, sitting next to your dear brother. That wasn't normal. Aegon never yelled at you like you were a mediocre servant. You were his favorite person... "Look, darling, I didn't mean to yell at you..." Aegon began, sighing and caressing your cold fingers. "I just... I need your help, do you understand? I need you to listen very carefully and not interrupt me. No stupid questions until I finish explaining myself."

Aegon took his sister's silence as a good sign and took another deep breath, moving his free hand to your delicate face, his calloused thumb touching your soft skin.

"You know how much I love you, hāedar. You're my favorite sister and I would never want to cause you any harm..." He whispered, his fingers playing with one of your blonde curls. Aegon didn't have much opportunity to see his sister with her hair unbraided, as Alicent always insisted that her daughters just undo their hairstyles during bedtime. And here he was, biting his lip as he watched how beautiful you looked without those stupid hairpins. "I don't want to hurt you, little one... The thought of hurting you in any way doesn't make me proud. I would never want that..." Aegon moved close enough so that his mouth were close to your ear, one of his hands still touching your chin and the other one playing with her blonde strands. "But I guess you know me well enough to know that I will spare no effort in punishing you if you don't understand me or don't obey me."

Aegon noticed how his sister was shaking, sitting on the mattress and trying hard to keep her eyes on him, trying her best to pretend to be confident despite the situation. The realization of what you could face was starting to become clearer by the minute, and you didn't know how to feel. Angry? Hurt? Afraid? Horny?

"I need an heir, my little dove. I need a son to sit on the Iron Throne after my death in the future..." Aegon practically purred in his sister's ear, the fingers that was touching her chin starting to go down to her collarbone, quite exposed by her nightgown "I can't let my bloodline end."

"But Jaehaera..." The girl tried to argue, but Aegon pulled roughly a strand of her hair, forcing her head back and making her whining with surprise and pain.

"I told you not to interrupt me with stupid questions until I finish speaking. Are you deaf?" Aegon growled impatiently. "Only a mindless king would allow a woman, such a stupid, fragile and influenceable creature to be part of the line of succession and rule a kingdom."

You swallowed hard, his words reminding you of Rhaenyra, your half-sister who you barely got the chance to get close to before the war. "Jaehaera's just a little girl, a child."

Aegon snorted, rolling his eyes. "And in the future she will be as foolish and fearful as Helaena always was. A daughter will always follow the same fate as her mother. It's inevitable. You women are born premeditated to suffering and failure. There's no other path for all of you than the pain of never be good enough."

Not knowing what to do, the princess bit her soft, pink lips, each piece of the puzzle that fit together making it harder for her to reason. Aegon smirked, feeling horny at the sight of your thoughts working hard to understand the complexity of what he was about to ask.

"Helaena's incapacitated at the moment, perhaps forever. I can't sleep with her in that state, it would be cruel for both of us." His argument made you nod slowly. In fact, you really didn't want your older sister to submit herself to a carnal act under such conditions, especially during the mourning phase. "I need a dignified Lady to bear my heir. A fertile, pure girl, with platinum hair. No one will ever even know that the boy will not be a result of my marriage with our sister."

Aegon distanced himself for a few seconds, analyzing you over from top to bottom, admiring your satin nightgown. He moistened his slightly chapped mouth, the feeling of his body starting to react to the sight of you was very tempting. So beautiful to the point that he even forgot Jaehaerys for a while, as well as forgetting his obligations as King and the only true need to bring another heir.

"Have you had your first... Blood, right?" Aegon questioned, and his rosy cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you. He was embarrassed to ask about such a feminine subject, even though he knew it was necessary to know if you were able to bearing children for him. Otherwise it would all be a waste of time. At least that's what you thought.

"Yes, lēkia, I had. A few years ago I started to... Flowering."

The smirk on Aegon's face returned just as quickly as his hands began to touch the soft skin of your thighs, the calluses on his fingers making you sigh by a mixture of surprise and hesitation. "That's great, little dove. Now I need you to be a good girl for me."

Aegon dreamed about fucking the youngest princess so many times that it was impossible to count the number of promiscuous dreams on his own fingers. He always imagined what it would be like having his face buried between her legs. What it would be like eating her out as she trembled and came on his face. What it would be like seeing her gag as he fucked her throat hard until those beautiful, innocent eyes filled with tears.

Ever since you grew up, Aegon dreamed about defiling you. Corrupting you. Making you his. His property, someone no other man could touch unless they wanted their necks cut off. However, nothing in the entire world could compared to that intoxicating feeling of power, knowing he wouldn't only take your virginity, but also do something much more prestigious than that... He was making you the mother of his new heir. He was giving you the honor of carrying the next Targaryen King in your own womb, the one who would succeed him and sit on the Iron Throne in the future.

"F-fuck, hāedar... You're squeezing my cock so hard..." Aegon chuckled amidst the moans, holding his sister's legs on top of his shoulders so he was sure she was feeling every inch with each thrust.

You grabbed the bed sheets, the dim lighting in the room making it difficult for your vision to stay completely focused. All you could see through the unfamiliar haze of pleasure was Aegon's body moving fast as he held your legs up, his heavy hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs by an attempt to steady himself. Despite everything, you knew he was holding back from being too violent.

"A-Aegon..." You whimpered, throwing your head back and closing your eyes. "It feels so good..."

Another low mockery escaped Aegon's lips. "It feels good, doesn't it, little sister? I told you..." He smirked almost devilishly, now only using one hand to keep you in that position, the other pressing one of your breasts as you squirmed due his rough touch. "Seven hells... I can't wait to see your tasty breasts full of milk, very hefty..."

You couldn’t help but moan again at Aegon’s dirty words. The image he placed in your head, making you arouse as you pictured yourself carrying the next Targaryen King in your womb, your body molding itself to bring him into the world.

"Oh, did you like that?" It was Aegon's turn to moan, almost whimpered, when he felt your pussy reacting to what he said, your walls practically crushing him. "You spoiled little cunt... Are you enjoying picturing yourself carrying my heir? And perhaps even more children?"

When you didn't answer him immediately, due to your brain that was still trying to get used to the pleasure and discomfort that was being fucked for the first time, Aegon caught your attention with a slap on your face with considerable strength, to the point of his wedding ring causes a small cut on your warm cheek.

"ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!" Aegon ordered with a hoarse yell, stopping moving his hips, as a way of punishing you and at the same time attracting your attention to what he was saying.

"M-my apologies, My King!" Your pathetic whimper sounded like music to Aegon's ears, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a mischievous smile. "Yes, I am... I'm enjoying picturing myself like this..."

Your admission was all he needed to keep fucking you. But Aegon already seemed bored by the same position, turning you onto your stomach with agility, barely giving time for your brain to process what was happening until he had returned inside you, the chambers filling with your surprise moans as his cock fills you again.

“Shit, I could fuck you for hours…” Aegon gripped your hips tightly, your skin starting to feel sore. "I bet you always envied Helaena for that, didn't you, little sister? You always envied the fact that she's the queen consort and for the time being you're nothing special... Just a stupid little princess."

His provocation caused a pang in your heart. Well, in a way, that was true. You knew the heavy burden that Helaena had carried since she was a child because she was forced to marry the older brother. Sometimes you heard her venting about how happier she was before she was a queen... And now because Jaehaerys' murder, you were sure that being married to the King brought more harm than good. And yet, you envied her.

"You're right..." You admitted with a bit of tears in your eyes. It was a confession you wanted to keep secret until your death, but you knew it would be impossible. You felt how Aegon's cock was starting to throb inside your pussy. The sounds he made and the faster but more irregular lunges indicating how close to the limit he already was. If you didn't tell him the truth soon, you would probably get more slaps on the cheeks. Or worse. "I envied her... I still envy her..."

Aegon let out an almost guttural growl, his fingers moving to your scalp, where he pulled violently, forcing your head back and also arching your back. "I'm going to put an heir inside your hot little pussy, do you understand me, you fucking whore? I'm going to cum inside you until my seed starts dripping out because you will be so full. And you're going to take every drop, then you will thank me for getting you pregnant, do you understand?" He growled in your ear and started fucking you deeper.

There was no concrete response, your body was focused on shaking and writhing with the pleasure that abruptly hit you, but Aegon interpreted your orgasm and your silent and desperate moan as agreement, enjoying the feeling of your pussy squeezing him even more than before, spilling all of his essence inside you afterwards.

You remained unfocused, your vision blurred and your heart racing. A few minutes passed before Aegon withdrew, a gasp of pleasure escaping his lips at having the gift of witnessing your little hole dripping with his seed and a few drops of blood too, consequences of the loss of your innocence. He ran his finger over your center, ignoring the tremor in your legs and bringing the exotic flavors blend to his own tongue and tasting it.

"Are you alright, my little dove?" Aegon whispered with a soft voice, a contrast to his previous behavior. He watched you nod slowly, your lungs straining to bring your breathing to normal. Aegon smiled, laying down next to you and pulling your sweaty, shaking body to snuggle on top of his chest. “You did very well, little sister… You were so good for me. Such a good girl." He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. "What's a good princess supposed to say after getting pregnant by the King?"

Your cheeks heated up as you processed his speech. "Thank you for breeding me, Your Grace." Your words came out breathless and tired, but Aegon's smile widened and his hands caressed your belly.

"You will look so pretty pregnant with my heir..." His lips touched your neck, giving you goosebumps. "My future heir, my legacy..."

You just nodded, about to close your eyes before he stopped the sleep you were about to fall into. "We will try this every night until we're sure you're pregnant."

"And what about Helaena?" You managed to question, confused about how your sister would react to all of this.

Aegon looked at the wall, considering some alternatives for a while. "Helaena won't be a problem for us. If everything goes well, in a few months I will be free to get married again." He said, staring at the tower closed window, both of you hearing the soft breath of the night wind. He cared about Helaena, even if he didn't show it, but perhaps that was better for everyone, especially her.

Your eyebrows furrowed for a few seconds, your heart aching for the macabre meaning of what Aegon was promising to you.

"But what if... What if something goes wrong? What if I get pregnant with a girl?"

Aegon looked at your after hearing the whispered question. His gaze was cold, as if it could tear your entire soul apart. You expected curses or anything even more violent and brutal. However, Aegon surprised you when he ran his thumb over his tongue. You didn't understand why he did that, until you let out a low whimper when he pressed the cut on your cheek, the spit on his finger burning your newly bruised skin.

A faint but sinister and almost disgusting smirk appeared on the King's features. "My dear little sister, if you disgrace me by becoming pregnant with a girl instead of a worthy heir... You will suffer a far worse and more painful fate than poor Helaena." His voice was bittersweet, like a calm threat. Perhaps you were right to envy Helaena after all.

HOTD Edition - Masteslist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[hcneymooners]

⋆ and i came looking for you.

synopsis: knight!f!characters x fem!reader. men & minors dni.

characters: ambessa, sevika, vi, abby anderson, ellie williams, grayson. 

cw: apocalypse au!, princess!reader, older woman/younger woman, age difference, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, reunion sex, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, obsession, pining, forbidden love, protective!reader, protective!knight!characters, vague fantasy nonsense, devotion. this is a drabble.

notes: trying something new. let me know what you think. also i full on was inspired by @s-4pphics + her incredible arranged marriage ellie piece. my head was spinning for hours after reading it. i lowkey am dreaming of it.

the world descends into apocalypse on a sunday morning. you were with her when it happened, laughing with your head tipped back, your eyes crinkling into a scatter of lines. she doesn’t remember what you were saying—if it was a joke, a story, or some terrible card game she kept letting you win.

all she remembers is the wall exploding, a bright flash of white, then red. blood seeping through cracks like light. your scream as the floor fell, the sound of her ribs snapping like children’s bones as she flung herself toward you—only to miss your hand by inches. the castle crumbled, and you were torn away.

a bioweapon, someone at a makeshift shelter tells her later. all she knows is this: she must get back to you.

the world is a wasteland now, and her princess is without her protection. it’s not that you can’t protect yourself—it’s that she is nothing without protecting you.

the shelter is crowded with weeping and the shaky scaffolding of survival. most stare out of the tents with a distant gaze that she understands all too well. she spends her nights clawing through maps and fragments of rumors, breasts heaving against the thin cotton of her nightshirt as she attempts to plot a way back to you. if you are still—no. 

you must be.

they will not let her leave. they speak of safety, of waiting. but she dreams of you. you, in your sheer shift, soft breasts rising and falling with your breath. you, your pouted mouth trembling as you cry, your heavy hips. you, shaking in the throes of nightmares she longs to dispel. and now! look! there she is in this lavish dream.

she dreams of holding your hand, of your body yielding to her touch. of your lips, wet and pliant against hers in a kiss she swore never to speak of again, though now she wishes she had. there you are—the two of you together pressed tightly as you writhe and twist against her fingers her mouth her—

she wakes screaming, the sound feral and raw. she cannot find you. she doesn’t know if you are safe. she begs the gods for mercy, for time, for you to understand why she is late.

they will not let her leave, so she practices for the leaving. she holds water in her mouth until her throat spasms and she spits it up, thick with bile. she practices not breathing. she is preparing her body to endure, for you.

one night, she slips into the lake. the water is black, the moon fractured across its surface. she swims across borders, feet blistered and bloody as she crosses moors and barren landscapes. the world is broken, but her princess is wandering somewhere within it. she hears the wail of a dragon, sees the light of the world’s final stars. your name becomes her mantra, whispered like a prayer. like a long, dizzying spell. 

the nights are long and sharp-edged, predators stalking her shadow. her sword is strapped against her, the weight echoing the feel of your body on her back though it is devoid of your warmth. devoid of the undoing vibration of your laugh.

the woods now. by day, she climbs hills and twists through ancient roots. she remembers your veins, fine as threads beneath your skin, when you were upset with her. sometimes they would just out like birds, overextended. your mouth sharp, your words sharper, but she would press you to her lap and hold you until you softened. she would kiss you until you melted into her arms, your anger spilling away like water over stone.

when she lay with you, it was much like breaking into the earth’s molten core. you were so warm, so forgiving. she remembers your cries, high and breathless, as she brought you to your peak with her hands, her mouth, with toys she had never known before you.

her head swims now, fevered and blurred. she cannot stop. she feels you, a buzzing in her chest. your life runs through her, like a tunnel of bees. they are buzzing, they are a beating against her brain. 

you are close; she knows this. she does not know what is real now, what is simply her hallucinations attempting to keep her comfort. she woke with her lips pressed to the gnarled bark of a tree, believing it to be your skin. she wept in her solitude.

but there—a cave. she digs and claws at its walls, sobbing when nothing yields. she considers the blade at her side, the gods above, but the buzzing grows louder. you are here. you must be. please let her in please let her please let her in please let her in.

she carves through stone with her grief, and the wall finally gives way. a boulder shifts, light spills through, and she stumbles into your sanctuary.

she drags her body through. closes the mechanism because she is respectful of you always. she sees runes glowing upon it, and understands that it is both the gods that have admitted her and prevented her from finding you. she is angry. she lets it go.

the cave is alive. a meadow unfurls before her, wild and endless beneath a fractured sky. lightning laces the clouds, but you have never feared storms. not fire, not water, not the end of the world. you refuse to bend. she hears the splash of water, and she is running again, faster than she thought possible.

she jolts forward, a broken toy with a rusted weapon and almost tumbles down the grass. she is running. she is running. her heart plods along like a horse, her breath comes quickly and harshly. 

she runs until she is at the face of your cottage. it is beautiful, it is of stone. it is glowing with a thousand stars or maybe this is her hallucinations again (it is not.) she is hungry, but she must consume you before food sullies her body. 

she stumbles to the back of the house and finds wild dogs cavorting, sees an empty chair. she keeps running, faster now. she knows you are there. 

the lake is green and blue and true, and there you are, standing at its center. your hair is braided—she smiles despite herself, remembering how much you hated the task. your body glistens with water, bare and radiant. your nipples hard and pointed from the cold. she calls your name. your neck almost snaps as you look for her, hands trembling and half-raised.

silence. you see her and she sees you and you, in your softness, begin to cry. you are floundering, attempting to come to her but she is still running. toward you now. toward you.

she is running, shedding her sword, her shirt, her past. she dives into the water, her body cutting through it like a blade. the sword sinks into the shallow beginnings of the lake and clatters against the rocks. she too, is now bare, body older and scarred, and the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. she dives, disappears which distresses you, and then comes up for air as she arcs through the water like a serpent of a myth. 

her hair is wet and slick against her forehead. you laugh, a wet warbling thing, and clap your hands over your mouth neck body. you need to touch her. 

you collide beneath the surface, chest to spine, limbs tangled.  the two of you are all twisted. when you break through, gasping, your hands find her face. her arms wrap around your thighs, lifting you from the water as her mouth claims yours. you taste salt and earth and honey, the residue of her journey.

you kiss her and kiss her and she is kissing you. she is holding you. she pulls way only to capture your mouth again, her tongue almost brutish as it bullies its way inside you. her hands dip beneath the water to cup your cunt. you are so wet and you cannot tell if it is all because of the water but you know all of it is because of her.

princess, she murmurs against your lips, her voice trembling with reverence.

her fingers slip inside, fucking you viciously. she is desperate to relearn, to feel you fall apart. your mouth is open, but there is no noise. you can hear birds shrieking, singing. maybe there is noise; maybe you are what you are hearing.

princess, she rumbles against you. princess. she keeps her rhythm, bounces you until your cunt is spasming and you melt against her—into her. you are crying and you feel good and beautiful and good. her name spills from your mouth as she milks you—relentlessly.

and you want to touch her too so you pull her from the water and push her onto shore. you spread her legs, thick and large, and lap at her cunt. she is pink inside, like turkish delight, but doubly sweeter.

her musk lures you in, and you suck, holding her to your mouth even though she snaps and shudders and cries. eventually, the pleasure becomes pain, so you release her, her juices slinking along your chin and collar bones.

you look wild; you look like a diety unknown. she is here with you, she has done it. she has held to her vow of protection—of following you for eternity. the foliage around her seems to surge and she cries anew, her grief and satisfaction coalescing into one bright burning star. you lay against her, feel your hearts exchange places. they crawl inside one another’s bodies, wet and red. 

princess, she croaks wetly.

you raise yourself, hover above her. your hair is loose; it hangs over her face. it blocks the sky; you are now her sun. as always. as was meant to be.

princess, she repeats. princess.

your mouth opens, your teeth gleam. you are smiling. this is real life. you are smiling. you are speaking. from your plush lips come the divine words, 

my knight. 

© hcneymooners.

[targaryen-dynasty]

FORBIDDEN TEMPTATION.

Aemond Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; canon typical incest/targcest (uncle married niece), menstrual sex, p in v, fingering, lactation kink

WORDS: 2.1 K

NOTES: Thank you to @lady-phasma and the rest of our little group for this period smut collaboration 😝 and extra thanks to @zaldritzosrose for the moodboard!! I love you guys sm 💕 It was so much fun working with this request. Cheers to the dragon friends🤍

✖️ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

A poking ache in your stomach is what pulls you out of your sleep, like a sharp, stinging tug that makes you curl into a bundle, clutching your belly. With your husband still sound asleep right next to you, his snores filling the room, you’re determined to not moan out in pain too loudly, though you’re close to failing. 

“By the Seven,” you whisper, a clear strain to your voice, and when you bring your hand down between your legs, the stickiness you're welcomed with makes you sigh. There’s hardly any light of the moon falling into the room, which makes it difficult for you to make out the source of the wetness that coats your fingers, yet the smell lets you know it’s familiar. Your moonblood. 

“Oh, this can not…” you trail off, moaning through gritted teeth as another jolt of pain runs through your belly. 

Next to you, your husband has been roused from sleep by your stirring and moaning, blinking against the darkness and blearily into the night as he tries to understand what is going on. Propping himself up on one elbow, his groggy voice is laced with worry as he speaks, “what is the matter?”

You shift to lie on your back again, leaning up against the headboard. “I… my moonblood has come,” you say. The realization that it’s just your monthly bleeding does bring you some sense of relief, meaning your husband has not yet managed to put another child in you, but it also concerns you. “It feels like someone is clawing at my belly from the inside out… and I can not remember for it to be so painful before the pregnancy.”

It’s an instinct he’s developed over the course of your pregnancy, something you still catch him doing every now and then, but Aemond‘s hand immediately goes to your belly, rubbing small, soothing circles to somewhat ease the pain. And for someone possessing the blood of the dragon, his body certainly emanates a lot of heat. You’re immediately drawn towards him, melting against his frame, warmth radiating off of his bare chest.

Aemond brings his lips to the crown of your head, wrapping his arms around you. “That was to be expected, was it not?” he asks.

“Yes, but it is quite severe.” You flinch again at the stinging pain, though it is not as sharp with his warm hand splayed over your stomach. “Could you fetch me the maester to ease the pain?”

Your husband’s mind, however, quickly comes up with a different solution. “Well, I have heard and read that there’s another way to ease that kind of pain, my love,” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice. “A more… pleasurable alternative that may not completely rid you of the pain, but certainly takes your mind off of it.”

His words and the innuendo don’t surprise you at all. Ever since he truly has learned what it meant to indulge in the pleasures of flesh with you, he’s turned into a starved beast, desperate to get his fill of you every night until your little Baelon was born, and determined to get you round with his seed as quickly as possible again. The few weeks of rest that had been prescribed by the maester were the most difficult for him, struggling to keep his hands off of you. It was the complete opposite to the way he was while you grew up together; your usually quiet and observing uncle turned into a beast, similar to the one he claimed when he turned ten. 

Aemond’s hand slowly drifts lower, and a small gasp escapes your lips, his fingers dancing lightly over the damp linen of your smallclothes. You look at him, your eyes half-lidded with a mix of pain and desire. “Do you really think… it would help?” you murmur softly, instinctively arching into his touch. The throbbing ache in your belly is temporarily replaced by a pleasant warmth spreading through your core. 

“Oh, I very much believe it will,” he whispers in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. 

A sly smile is on his lips as his thumb brushes over your pearl, making your breath hitch in your throat. Your head tips back into the pillows with a moan slipping past your lips. “Aemond…” you whisper, his name coming out in a mere breath, “please.” 

He is quick to bow his head forward, capturing your lips for a kiss. As he tugs on your smallclothes, you wrap your arms around his neck for support, using the leverage to shimmy out of the damp linen. 

You gasp against his lips as his nimble digits ease into your cunt, and Aemond presses his forehead against yours. Feeling you writhe beneath his touch, he lets out a low groan, a small shiver running down his spine at the wanton sight of his wife on the cusp of pleasure. “Relax, my love,” he rasps. “Let me take care of you.”

His fingers continue their ministrations, his touch gentle yet insistent, never slowing down, and your hips buck into his touch. There’s no denying your desire for him, your need for him. And while he focuses on easing your pain, your focus solely lies on him – or rather his cock. It’s always the same, for his fingers are never enough for you. 

Aemond has pushed his sleeping trousers down to the point he was able to free his cock, thick, hard, and the tip glistening with a few beds of his arousal, indicating just how badly he wants to take care of you. Feeling his knuckles brush your thigh as his fist slides up and down his length, you whimper in anticipation while a strained grunt leaves his lips. 

Without another word, Aemond positions himself between your legs, the motion fluid and practiced. His hands glide over the smooth skin of your thighs, pushing them further apart to accommodate him. 

There is some impatience evident in his movements as he drags the tip of his cock through your soaked folds, causing you to gasp each time it presses against your sensitive pearl. 

“Stop teasing me, Aemond,” you whine, your nerves on fire. 

His lips curve into a smug smirk at your desperate whine. “What’s the rush, my love?” 

Tilting his head forwards, he watches as he circles your entrance with his cock, repeatedly pushing just the tip inside… only to pull out mere moments later. While it drives you insane with lust, it also makes you aware of how slick you are for him – knowing it’s not just your arousal he’s coated in now. 

That realization makes you feel shy, and you momentarily try to squeeze your thighs together to escape his hungry gaze – but to no avail. Tsking, Aemond is quick to pry your thighs apart again, raising a brow. “Do not shy away now,” he warns. “A little blood does not repel me.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nod meekly at his words, and your husband takes that as his cue to continue. Where he usually sheathes him inside you in one, swift thrust, he’s slow and careful to enter you now, making sure you feel every vein and ridge of him on his way inside. You both moan in unison, never getting enough of each other. 

Despite you being quite tense from the sharp pain tugging at your belly, Aemond buries himself inside of you with ease, your moonsblood adding to your slickness. It feels different than usual – you feel different than usual, more sensitive – yet the pleasure it brings is heightened and coaxes you to melt around him. 

Your head tips back into the pillows, but Aemond is quick to bring a hand to the side of your neck, applying a bit of pressure to your chin with his thumb to force you to meet his gaze. There is a slight stutter in his hips as he sets up his slow pace, settling only once he’s found the perfect rhythm. With expert precision, he rolls his hips against yours. Your heels dig into his rear, encouraging him to go even deeper. 

The dull, continuous ache in your belly grows weaker with every thrust, replaced by a warmth that spreads all the way to your limbs, fueled by the squelching sounds of his cock repeatedly disappearing into your soaked cunt. 

Aemond has one hand on your neck and the other positioned on the mattress right next to your head, careful not to put all of his weight on your sensitive body. You take it upon yourself to tug on the low neckline of your nightgown, pulling it even lower to free your heavy breasts from their confines. 

Your body is still providing enough milk to feed an army of children, despite you merely birthing one, and while they are heavy and hard to the touch, wearing clothes has always been a far worse agony. The creamish silk has been damp even before Aemond has touched you, and so it’s no surprise droplets of milk trickle from your darkened buds as soon as your fingers touch them. 

And that is the moment he stops being careful, bowing down to capture one bud with his lips and press his body against yours. It’s a mix between a gasp and moan that slips past your lips, yet it’s enough to make clear the relief you feel. 

The position all but forces him to roll his hips against yours languidly, but neither of you mind for it seems to bring you both enough pleasure. You can feel him suckle on your breast in the rhythm your cunt clenches around his cock. His cheeks dimpled from the suction; he’s propped up on one elbow, using his hand to pinch and roll the other bud between his fingers. 

He alternates between licking and sucking, not keen on wasting just one drop of your precious milk. “Gods, Aemond,” you whine, arching your back against him. You feel him throb inside of you at the despair audible in your voice, spurring him on. 

Your hips move on their own accord now, grinding against his and matching his movements, the pain in your belly and breasts long forgotten as you chase your pleasure. 

A couple of moments pass until you feel Aemond’s breath growing labored, his chest almost heaving with more and more muffled grunts and groans escaping his throat. He is loud – much to your surprise – but your body seems keen at that, the pressure inside of your belly tightening at a rapid pace.

As his lips wrap around your other bud, the knot in your belly snaps. It’s either gripping the sheets or his hair to keep yourself grounded, and you opt for the latter, burying your hands inside of his silver strands. You use the grip to pull him closer to your breasts, more out of instinct than of clear will. 

The sheets below you are soaked with a blend of your arousal and moonblood, trickling out of your cunt and coating Aemond’s cock and the sac of his stones. It’s the tightness of your peak’s contractions that eventually forces the seed from your husband, milking him for every last drop of his spent. His muscles go rigid, yet he hardly withdraws from your bud to release grunts and groans, too drunk on what’s supposed to be for your son. 

He bites down as he spills inside of you, harder than you like considering your whole body is a sensitive mess at this point, but you do not begrudge him – it’s well deserved with how caring and careful he’s been to tend to your needs. 

He buries his face between your now soft and tender breasts as you leisurely ride out your peaks, both your movements slowly, but surely, coming to a stop. You tug on his hair, and the sight of his half-lidded eye and his swollen lips makes you clench around him once more. 

While Aemond swallows a groan, you urge his face towards yours for a kiss, moaning at the taste of your milk on his tongue. Labored breaths fan across each other’s faces as his mouth leaves yours, and you take a moment to stare at each other silently. 

“Is the pain… has it eased?” Aemond’s voice is a hoarse whisper. Panting softly, he sits back on his haunches. 

A small, bashful smile curves your lips, the haze of desire beginning to lift. Your body still thrums with the aftereffects of his endeavors. “I am quite alright,” you reply. “But perhaps we should indulge in a bath. I do believe a soak in hot water may alleviate my discomfort even more, and it seems we have both made quite the mess.”

You notice the mischievous gleam in his good eye. “If that is what my love desires, then consider it done. I shall have hot water brought to our chambers, and then I shall ensure that every bit of your discomfort is soothed.”

[spxllcxstxr]

Vermax • J.V

(Gif not mine)

Request: jacaerys falling in love with a servant girl and taking her for a ride on vermax. -- @sarahisslytherin

Summary: Jacaerys takes a servant girl to see Vermax

Warnings: fem!reader (referred to as girl at some points), servant x prince forbidden romance, dragon stuff, lowkey abrupt ending but oh well

Word Count: 1.2k

A.N: need more smiling jace but DAMN he was fine in this scene, first jace piece, hope it's ok! This wasn’t supposed to be over 1k words lmao

•

The dark corridors of Dragonstone castle twist and turn as Prince Jacaerys pulls you through them. His grip on your wrist is light as it pushes up the sleeve of your red servant’s dress.

The only sounds surrounding the two of you were your steps across the stone floors and both of your panting breaths.

In mere minutes the cool air of Dragonstone hits you as does the grass slick with fresh dew. Any guards near the entrances are cloaked in the darkness.

"Jacaerys," You hiss, careful not to draw any attention to you. "Where are you taking me?"

"Calm yourself, (Y/n), I am only taking you to see Vermax." Jace responds, his pace slowing as he approaches a patch of grass where his dragon frequently can be found.

"Are you feeding me to your dragon, Jace? Is this what this is?"

He snorts at your question. "Not today."

You giggle as Vermax is appears within your vision.

The moonlight shimmers on Vermax's olive green scales. The dragon mesmerizes you, even when stationary. You can't even fathom the fact that Vermax is on the smaller side of the Targaryen dragons.

Jacearys turns to you, the flowing red cape attached to the rest of his riding gear rustles behind him. Your eyes flick to the Prince.

"Do you trust me?" The Prince asks, his gentle brown eyes staring into your own. His thumb rests on your cheekbone. The leather riding gloves obstructs the warm feeling you have come to associate with the Prince. It's comforting nonetheless.

You heart hammers in your chest. Even his lightest of touches always leaves you dazed, but with the addition of a dragon just over his shoulder contributes to your nerves.

"Of course, Jacaerys," You breathe, wiping your sweaty palms against the rough fabric of your dress. The tall grass tickles your ankles.

He hums, lightly pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Do not be afraid, sweet girl, Vermax will do you no harm."

"Are you sure about this, Jace? We could get in trouble--"

"Nonsense, who here would fathom taking issue with the Prince?" Jacearys smirks, making your cheeks burn.

In the moonlight he takes your breath away. Pale skin littered with freckles, the desire to kiss every single one almost taking over.

You follow him as he strides over to his dragon, murmuring in High Valarian. His hands rest atop the dragon's snout.

He whispers to his dragon, gesturing to you to come closer. With your hand trembling slightly, you lightly place it on the dragon's scales, which are hot to the touch.

It takes a bit of maneuvering paired with Jace's help for you to get up on Vermax's saddle--you had barely ridden a horse much less a dragon.

"Might want to hold on tight, (Y/n)." Jacaerys whispers in your ear as he settles behind you. "Vermax is pretty quick."

He shouts a few phrases in High Valyrian and the dragon roars to life, large wings starting to move. As you rise through the air, you can't help but to scream your lungs out.

Higher above the trees, mingling between the clouds, a sense of adrenaline makes you dizzy.

How could anyone get used to this?

You holler and laugh as the wind quickly whips all around you. Your fingers tingle and your heart pound in your chest.

Jacaerys has Vermax climbing high up in the sky before dropping close to the ocean, twisting as you go down.

Eventually, with morning quickly approaching, Vermax coasts just below the clouds, heading towards Dragonstone, which is just a small island in the distance.

Dawn creeps over the horizon, the orange and yellow hues of the early light blending with the sea surrounding you. Your skin bathes in the light. The open sea and sky glitters in your vision. Closing your eyes you deeply inhale, the fresh air filling your lungs. You can feel his eyes watching you intensely. Jace's arms tighten around your waist as he guides Vermax to dive closer to land.

You don't open your eyes until you land and Vermax stops shifting on their feet. Slowly, and with guidance from the Prince, you dismount from the dragon, gently patting their scales once more before taking a few steps back.

“Thank you, Jace,” Your lips gently press against his cheek, red from the wind. "That was..." You search for the words that could possibly describe the experience you just had. "Amazing."

The dawn light highlights the flecks of gold in his eyes and you're unable to look away. His lips tilt up in a smile.

"Oh my sweet girl...I would do anything for you. Showing you all this," He gestures to Vermax's retreating figure in the sky. "It is because I love you."

You take a step back, breath catching in your throat. While the two of you had been sneaking around with each other and kissing in the dark corners of the castle, he had never told you he loved you before. You never thought he could love someone like you. "Jacaerys, I am a mere servant girl, you cannot--"

"I can, (Y/n)." He takes your hands in his, pulling you closer to his body. He smells of dragon and fire. "When my mother is sat on the Iron Throne it will not matter if my heart chooses to be with a serving girl or a lady at court." He squeezes your hands in an attempt to calm your nerves.

You bite your bottom lip, mind and heart racing with swarming thoughts and emotions.

"Do you--do you not love me back?" Jace's dark brows crease with worry.

"Do not be a fool, Jacaerys!" You respond, meeting his eyes. "I have loved you since I met you! But what of Baela? Of politics? You cannot just piss that all away for someone like me!"

"I do not care, (Y/n), please just listen to me!" He moves his hands to frame your face, one of each cheek. They're delicate on your skin. "We will deal with it when we get there, but please let us love each other now before we have to concern ourselves with all of that." Jace's eyes are wide, pleading with you to just say yes.

And how could you resist? You had loved him since you were both children running up and down the stone steps of the castle, him avoiding his duties as a Prince and you avoiding your duties as a servant.

Without saying anything, you surge forward to capture his soft lips in your own. Your own hands move to his neck, stroking the skin there. The two of you had kissed before, many times, in fact, but it was never like this. This was more special in a way you couldn't wrap your head around. It was slow and passionate, like Jacearys was trying to convey to you how much he truly loved you. You try your best to return the sentiment.

Breathlessly, you reluctantly pull away. Your eyes flutter as they meet his own. "Gods, Jacaerys, of course I love you back."

•

[eclipixels]

Our Past?

Sylus x reader

Content: After discovering your past life with Sylus and his promise to restore your memories, you find yourself eager to hear the stories of your past from him.

A/N: Sylus’s myth has been weighing on my mind, it’s absolutely heartbreaking. Forbidden love?? Like?? Ugh. I had to write something to make it hurt less :’).

Wanings: slight angst if you squint your eyes

[2,118 words]

      After discovering the truth about your past life, a storm of emotions had raged within you. Anger, betrayal, disbelief. How could Sylus have kept something so monumental from you? How could he have known and simply chosen not to tell you? The argument that followed had been fierce, but in the end, he relented, promising to restore your lost memories tomorrow morning. Now, the fire had dimmed, replaced by a quiet restlessness you couldn't shake.

      “Won’t you at least come to bed, darling?” Sylus murmured, his voice softer than usual, his sharp eyes now wide and pleading. You exhaled, exasperated yet unable to deny him. With a tired sigh, you crawled over, settling on top of him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath you.

      "Sylus?"

      "Hm?"

      "Tell me about our past," you whispered. He had promised to return your memories tomorrow, but waiting felt unbearable. The unknown loomed too heavily over you, making it impossible to sleep.

      He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. "Impatient, aren’t you? Can’t even wait until tomorrow?"

      "You’re one to talk about being greedy," you huffed, shifting slightly against him.

      “I know,” he admitted, the grin that spread across his lips filled with something more than amusement, something nostalgic, as if the weight of the past he had once tried to forget was now something he wanted to remember.

      He studied you for a moment before continuing, “Did you know you were a princess, princess?” His smirk widened at his own joke, reveling in the play on words.

      You rolled your eyes, but your curiosity overpowered your exasperation. "A princess?"

      "Ivory City," he said, watching for recognition in your gaze. "They accused you of being a sorcerror because you took pity and sympathy on my kind, so they cast you out."

      "How primitive," you muttered, unimpressed by the cruelty of a kingdom you barely remembered.

      "Indeed," he agreed, his tone laced with a quiet sort of amusement. "They feared what they couldn't understand."

      A brief silence stretched between you before he added, “You also gave me my name, but I already told you that.”

      You sighed, tilting your head slightly. "You still haven’t taught me how to pronounce your actual name." It was something you had discovered earlier, before the argument, before the flood of fragmented memories revealed pieces of his dragon life with you in Philos.

      Sylus hummed, clearly unbothered by the notion. “It’s irrelevant,” he murmured, fingers tracing lazy circles against your back. “I like your version of my name better. Your claim on me.” His grin returned, sharper now, something possessive glinting behind his eyes. A name you gave him that he’s used ever since. Your lips parted slightly, heart skipping a beat at the weight of his words. You had claimed him once before, long ago, in another life. And now, in this one, you were beginning to do it all over again.

      Sylus smirked, his voice dropping into something teasing. “Did you also know that once, back when we still held nothing but disdain for each other, I wrapped my hand around your throat, and you—” He let out a short laugh, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You moaned.”

      You jolted upright, eyes wide. “I did what?!” you shrieked, horrified.

      His laughter only deepened, rich and unbothered. “It was certainly… unique,” he mused, tilting his head as if replaying the memory in his mind. “I’ve threatened plenty of people before, but never had anyone react quite like that.”

      Heat flared across your face as you groaned, burying yourself against his chest in embarrassment. “I hate you.”

      “No, you don’t,” he chuckled, pressing a lazy kiss against the top of your head.

      A moment of silence passed, the air between you settling into something softer, something steeped in nostalgia. “Most nights,” Sylus murmured, “we spent our time together under the moonlight.”

      You closed your eyes, letting his voice guide you through the fragments of a past you desperately wished to reclaim. “I can’t wait to get my memories back,” you hummed. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you all over again.”

      His fingers curled gently around your waist, holding you close. “There were times,” he continued, voice quieter now, “when you would see my true form, and I expected you to be afraid. I thought you’d run, that you’d look at me like I was a monster.” He paused, as if caught in the memory. “But you didn’t. Instead, you traced your much smaller hand over my scales and horns. You—” He swallowed. “You still loved me.”

      “How couldn’t I?” you whispered, pressing closer.

      Sylus exhaled, the tension in his body unraveling. “Back then, I didn’t know what love was,” he admitted. “You introduced me to that.”

      You lifted your head slightly, gazing up at him. “Really?”

      His lips curled into something almost reverent, something achingly fond. “Really.

      “That’s beautiful,” you murmured, voice soft with drowsiness.

      Sylus smiled faintly, fingers tracing idle patterns against your waist and thighs. “My favorite memory might be when I took you to that flower field,” he mused, pausing expectantly for your response.

      But you said nothing. He frowned slightly, tilting his head to glance down at you.

“Kitten, are you asleep?” he asked after a long stretch of silence, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing. A quiet snore escaped you. You weren’t asleep, but he didn’t have to know that.

      His chest rose and fell with a slow inhale before he continued anyway, his voice dipping into something raw.

      “The reason why…” he started, then hesitated. For once, the words didn’t come so easily. “The reason why I withheld these memories and this information from you was because I knew it would break you.”

      A heavy silence settled between you, thick and suffocating.

      “I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier that we have half of our souls in each other.” His fingers curled slightly against your skin. That much, you had already discovered. The truth that the two of you were irreversibly connected, bound by something ancient and inescapable.

      His next words came quieter, almost as if he didn’t want to admit them out loud. “But I just… I couldn’t let you know that we were destined for death.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort. “It was greedy of me. I wanted you all to myself, even if it meant keeping the truth from you. But the curse of a dragon’s beloved is to die. And you—” His voice wavered, the weight of his confession nearly unbearable. “You were destined to kill me, as my archenemy.”

      His breath hitched, and he let his eyes fall shut. “I didn’t want you to know that,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “But I realized… it’s not just my story. It’s yours too. And you deserve to know.”

      The words hung in the air between you, fragile and aching. His throat worked as he tried to steady himself, but his voice still cracked, betraying the turmoil he had tried so hard to suppress. Still, you didn’t move, didn’t respond. But your fingers twitched ever so slightly against his chest.

      You hadn’t even realized you were crying until the warm tears spilled onto Sylus’s chest. They fell silently, one after another, pooling against his skin like echoes of a grief you weren’t prepared to feel.

      “Sweetheart?” Sylus called out, his voice laced with concern. His arms tightened slightly around you. “Are you alright?”

      “It hurts,” you whispered, your voice small, fragile. “Why was our story so sad?”

      He exhaled, his fingers threading gently through your hair. “I don’t know, my love,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “This is why I didn’t want you to know.”

      A shuddering breath left you as you stared at the space between you, the past pressing in on your chest like an unbearable weight. “Did I hurt you?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

      Sylus stilled for a moment before letting out a small, knowing sigh. He tilted your chin up, thumb brushing away the tears clinging to your lashes. “Sweetie, that’s all in the past for a reason,” he murmured. “None of that destiny, archnemesis, dragons-destroying-cities, royalty-and-war bullshit matters here.” He smirked slightly, attempting to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe the part about our souls being tied for eternity, but I’m not complaining about that part.”

      You sniffled, staring up at him with a wobbly frown.

      “Oh, and wanderers,” he added, scowling. “That part I do complain about.”

      You huffed a small laugh despite yourself, but your expression quickly turned serious again. “You didn’t answer my question, though,” you said, eyes searching his. “Did I hurt you?”

      Sylus hesitated. “Well…”

      “Stop it. Just tell me.”

      A sigh, followed by a lopsided, almost sheepish grin. “Maybe you stabbed me.”

      Your mouth fell open. “Maybe?”

      “But it wasn’t entirely on purpose,” he continued hastily. “Not out of your own volition. In fact, you didn’t want to kill me at all. That’s why you chose to tie our souls together instead.” He pulled your leg up to wrap around him tighter. “You chose to save me instead of killing me. Our souls became bound, incapable of betraying each other.”

      “Incapable of betraying each other?” you echoed, brows furrowing before your expression morphed into something accusatory. “Oh, really? Then what about that time you ate my sandwich I was saving for later?”

      Sylus blinked. “Uh—”

      “Actually, no. You didn’t even eat it yourself,” you fumed. “You gave it to Mephisto. A mechanical bird. I don’t even know if he can digest organic material!”

      “So feisty,” Sylus murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “Lifetimes of love, and yet, you’re still a brat.”

      “Hey!” You gasped, feigning offense, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

      He only chuckled, shaking his head. Then, his expression turned mischievous as he pointed a finger at you accusingly. “But, you do realize—I can never die unless you’re the one who kills me.”

      You smirked, crossing your arms. “Oh, I was so smart for doing that.”

      Sylus let out a full-bodied laugh, the sound warm and rich with something inexplicably fond.

      “What?” You tilted your head, watching the way his grin widened.

      “Isn’t it crazy?” he said, voice quieter now, as if he was still wrapping his mind around it himself. “Lifetimes of love… You’ve always been my girl.”

      Something about the way he said it made your chest ache in the most bittersweet way. This love of yours, it felt like it was something you’re not allowed to have. You swallowed hard, voice softening. “I still can’t believe you’re a dragon.”

      “What?” He snorted. “You thought the horns were just for decoration?”

      You groaned sleepily. “In my defense, you don’t always make them visible.”

      Sylus smirked. “Would you like me to keep them out more often, then? Just for you?”

      “Sylus.” You whimpered, burying your face against him.

      His amusement faded as concern flickered across his features. “You’re still upset?”

      “I don’t want to kill you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

      Sylus exhaled, his fingers tracing slow, soothing lines against your back. “Love,” he murmured, “like I said, you won’t. This is our timeline.”

      “But I want you in every timeline,” you confessed, curling closer, as if holding onto him tighter could somehow tether your souls together even more. “Every life.”

      Sylus stilled. His fingers stopped their tracing. His breath hitched just slightly. Then, with a heavy sigh, he picked up your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. His lips were warm, his touch reverent.

      “I…” He hesitated.

      Sylus never made promises lightly. He didn’t want to promise you something he couldn’t keep. But then, he thought about it. About how he had already overturned fate before. How he and you both had defied instinct, rewritten the path carved for each other. Yet, it wasn’t enough. He didn’t just want your soul. You didn’t just want his eye. You were both greedy, greedy creatures. You wanted to consume each other, bones and all. In love. In deep, all-consuming love.

      And maybe he could make that happen.

      He would need a powerful enough sorcerer. Someone who still wielded magic strong enough to rewrite the very laws of existence. He could find one. He would find one. He would make sure it was just you and him, forever. Not killing each other. Not dying. That would make you immortal, too.

      He could have you forever.

      Now, wasn’t that greedy?

      “I promise,” he finally whispered, sealing his vow with another kiss against your palm, not noticing the soft glow that wrapped itself around you both as you involuntarily resonated.

[moonlight-joy]

The North Remembers

Fandom: House of Dragon

Summary: You are a member of House Hightower, sent north as a hostage to secure peace after the Dance of Dragons. You and Cregan fall in love, but your relationship is doomed from the start.

Pairing: Reader/Cregan Stark

The wind howled through the walls of Winterfell, carrying with it the biting chill of the North. Snowflakes fell steadily from the sky, blanketing the ancient stone keep in a sea of white. The fire crackled in the hearth of the great hall, but even its warmth could not chase away the cold tension that hung in the air.

You sat by the window, watching the snow fall in silence. It was peaceful here in the North—a far cry from the chaos and bloodshed of the Dance of Dragons. Peace had come at a cost, one paid in dragonfire and shattered alliances. And now, as a member of House Hightower, you had been sent to Winterfell as a political hostage, a symbol of the fragile truce between the crown and the North.

At first, you had felt like an outsider, your southern ways foreign to the people of Winterfell. But slowly, the North had begun to seep into your bones. You had learned to endure the cold, to find beauty in the endless snow, and to respect the unyielding strength of the Starks.

And then there was Cregan.

Lord Cregan Stark, Warden of the North, had been an enigma to you from the start. Stern and stoic, he carried the weight of his duties with quiet dignity. Yet beneath his reserved exterior lay a fierce heart, one that burned with loyalty and passion. It had taken time for him to lower his guard, but when he did, you found yourself drawn to him in ways you never expected.

It had started with stolen glances across the hall, fleeting touches that lingered just a moment too long, whispered words shared in the quiet corners of the castle. What had begun as a tentative friendship had blossomed into something far deeper—something forbidden.

You knew it could never last. The North would never accept a union between a Stark and a Hightower, not after the betrayals and bloodshed of the Dance. But no matter how hard you tried to deny it, your heart had already chosen Cregan.

And his had chosen you.

One evening, as the storm raged outside, you found yourself standing by the hearth in the great hall. Cregan entered quietly, his footsteps soft on the stone floor. He crossed the room to stand beside you, the firelight casting shadows across his chiseled features.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction. “If anyone sees us…”

“Let them see,” Cregan replied, his voice low and steady. “I don’t care what they think.”

You turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. “They’ll never accept us.”

His eyes softened, and he reached out to take your hand in his. “I don’t care what they accept. I care about you.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you searched his face, desperate to hold onto this moment, knowing it could slip away at any time. “Even if it means war?”

Cregan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t hesitate. “Even if it means war.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a heavy cloak. You knew the risks—knew that your love could spark another conflict, one that neither the North nor the realm could afford. But in that moment, none of it seemed to matter. All that mattered was him.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips like a prayer.

Cregan pulled you into his arms, holding you as though he never wanted to let go. “And I love you. Always.”

Days turned into weeks, and your secret love affair continued in the shadows. But secrets never stayed hidden for long in Winterfell. Whispers began to spread, rumors of the southern hostage and the lord of Winterfell growing closer than propriety allowed.

It wasn’t long before word reached Oldtown.

A raven arrived from your family, demanding your return. The letter was terse and formal, reminding you of your duty to House Hightower and the consequences of defying your kin. You read the words with a sinking heart, knowing that the fragile peace you had found in the North was slipping through your fingers.

Cregan found you in the godswood, the letter clutched in your trembling hands. The ancient trees stood silent around you, their branches heavy with snow. He approached quietly, his gaze dark with concern.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice gentle.

You handed him the letter, unable to speak. He read it in silence, his jaw tightening with each word. When he finished, he crumpled the parchment in his fist, his eyes blazing with anger.

“They have no right to take you from me,” he growled.

“They’re my family,” you whispered. “I can’t just ignore them.”

“And what of us?” Cregan demanded, stepping closer. “What we have… it’s real. It matters.”

“I know it does,” you said, your voice breaking. “But if I stay, it could mean war. The North can’t afford another conflict. Your people have suffered enough.”

“I don’t care about politics,” Cregan said fiercely. “I care about you. I won’t lose you.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you reached up to cup his face. “And I won’t let you destroy everything you’ve worked for. You have a duty to your people, Cregan. You can’t throw that away for me.”

“You are my duty,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “You are my heart.”

The godswood stood in solemn witness as you shared a final, desperate kiss, the taste of salt and sorrow lingering on your lips. When you pulled away, you saw the pain etched into Cregan’s features, a reflection of your own heartbreak.

“I’ll come back,” you promised. “Somehow, I’ll find a way.”

“I’ll wait for you,” Cregan vowed. “No matter how long it takes.”

Your departure from Winterfell was a quiet affair. The people of the North watched in silence as you rode through the gates, their expressions unreadable. Cregan stood on the battlements, his cloak billowing in the wind, his gaze fixed on you until you disappeared from sight.

The journey south was long and cold, each mile taking you further from the man you loved. The walls of Oldtown felt suffocating after the vast, open skies of the North. Your family greeted you with cold formality, their eyes sharp with suspicion.

“You’ve shamed us,” your father said, his voice stern. “Fraternizing with a Stark… it’s disgraceful.”

“I love him,” you said simply, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve.

Your father’s expression darkened. “Love is a luxury we cannot afford. You will marry as we command, and you will forget this foolishness.”

But you knew you would never forget. The North had changed you. Cregan had changed you.

Months passed, and the ache in your heart never faded. You longed for the cold winds of Winterfell, for the warmth of Cregan’s embrace. But duty kept you bound to Oldtown, a prisoner of your own blood.

One night, as you sat by the window of your chamber, a raven arrived. You recognized the seal immediately, your hands trembling as you broke the wax.

I’m waiting for you.

The words were simple, but they carried the weight of a thousand promises. Tears filled your eyes as you clutched the letter to your chest.

The North remembers.

And so did you.

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[0silver0dreams0]

"Whispers of Devotion"

Yandere House of the dragon x ModernReborn!Reader Pt. 3

Summarized: Gradually, as time passes, the girl she once was begins to transform into a woman. Those around her take notice, and the actions of those in her life start to bear consequences. As tensions rise, rivalries deepen, and complex feelings begin to intertwine.

Warning: hatred, love macking, mutual masturbation, clues of incest, forbidden love and stalking.

<< Pt. 2 — masterlist — Pt. 4 >> (Coming Soon)

When will they finally leave you alone? Letter after letter after letter. They just don’t understand—you don’t want them anymore. Jacaerys, Rhaenyra, Daemon, even that insufferable boy Lucerys. You burned their letters in the fireplace without hesitation. You don’t care about them; you only wish for their suffering and demise, imagining it vividly before see them with your eyes. But you force yourself to set those thoughts aside. They are a distraction, and distractions displease your mother. Every minute of your day is accounted for, each task meticulously planned to maintain the illusion of perfection. If you falter—if you make a single misstep—Alicent will not forgive you. She will punish you, lock you in your chambers for hours, sometimes days, leaving you isolated with nothing but your thoughts.

You live to please her. To earn her approval. To become the daughter she expects you to be.

8:00 - Etiquette lessons 9:00 - Dance lessons 10:00 - Bath 11:00 - History lessons 12:00 - Go to the Great Sept with Alicent 13:00 - Have tea with Alicent 14:00 - Valyrian lessons 15:00 - Lunch with your family 16:00 - Watch Aemond train and encourage him 17:00 - Talk to Alicent about everything that happened during the day 18:00 - Sneak into the kitchen to eat something 19:00 - Pray Alicent doesn’t notice you ate something 20:00 - Read 21:00 - Prepare for bed 22:00 - Sleep

It’s almost noon, which means it’s time to accompany Alicent to the Great Sept. Yet, as the clock ticks closer to the hour, temptation claws at you. There’s a small gap in your schedule, just enough time for a stolen moment. You glance around to ensure no one is watching before slipping away to the gardens.

He’s waiting for you, leaning casually against a stone column, his armour glinting faintly in the sunlight, he was there, with his brown eyes, his blonde hair, Ser Alaric. The sight of him brings a rush of warmth to your chest.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says softly, though the smile on his face betrays his words. “I could say the same to you,” you tease, stepping closer. “But I’m glad you are.” He reaches out, brushing his fingers against yours—a touch so fleeting it almost feels like a dream. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess. If your brother finds out…”

You tense at the mention of Aemond. He must never know about this, about you and Alaric. Aemond’s protectiveness would turn violent in an instant, and you dread to think what he might do.

“He won’t find out,” you assure him, though your voice is quieter than you intended. “I won’t let him.” Alaric studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he nods. “Just be careful. For both our sakes.”

Before you can respond, the sound of footsteps makes you both freeze. Your heart leaps into your throat as you whip around to see Aemond standing at the edge of the garden, his sharp gaze fixed on you.

“(your name),” he calls out, his tone neutral but his eye narrowing slightly. “What are you doing here?” You force a smile, stepping away from Alaric as casually as you can. “I had a bit of free time before prayer. I thought I’d take a walk.”

“And you, Ser Alaric?” Aemond’s voice hardens as he shifts his attention to the knight. “I was ensuring the Princess’s safety,” Alaric replies smoothly, bowing his head. Aemond’s gaze lingers on him for a moment before turning back to you. “Mother is waiting. You should go.”

You nod quickly, glancing at Alaric one last time before following Aemond.

When you arrive at the Sept, Alicent is already there, her gaze darkening the moment it lands on you.

"You’re late," she says, her tone sharp and clipped. “I apologize, Mother. I—” “I’ve no interest in your excuses.” She steps closer, her expression cold and unyielding. “You’ve been acting irresponsibly of late—sneaking off like a petulant child. I won’t allow it any longer.” Her voice is calm but cuts through you with the precision of a blade.

“After prayers, you will return to your chambers,” she continues, each word deliberate. “And you will remain there until I decide otherwise. Perhaps solitude will instil the discipline you so clearly lack.”

You open your mouth to object, but her piercing glare stops you mid-breath. Any protest dies on your lips.

The prayers are long and stifling, each moment stretching painfully under the weight of her disapproval. When they finally conclude, Alicent herself escorts you back to your chambers, her grip firm as though she fears you might slip away.

The heavy door shuts behind you with a finality that sends a shiver down your spine, followed by the unmistakable sound of the lock turning.

Left alone, you search your bed, hoping the books you’d hidden earlier might still be there. They aren’t. In fact, none of your hidden belongings remain. Realisation dawns—she must have discovered them. That’s why she was so angry.

With no distractions to occupy your mind, you lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Maybe sleep will offer a reprieve. But the hours drag on, the silence pressing against you like an iron weight. Just as the last light of day fades, a soft knock breaks the stillness, startling you.

“Aemond?” you call out hesitantly.

The door creaks open, and your brother steps inside, a tray of food in hand and a book tucked under his arm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whisper, though relief rushes through you.

“And leave you to starve?” he replies simply. He sets the tray down on your desk before sitting beside you on the bed. “Mother can be harsh, but she forgets—you're human, not an extension of her will.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking a tentative bite of the bread he brought. “But if she finds out, she’ll punish me even more.”

“I’ll speak with Father,” he says, his voice calm but resolute. “Perhaps he’ll see that Mother has gone too far.”

Your fingers graze the book he hands you, and for the first time in hours, a faint smile graces your lips. “You’re always looking out for me,” you say softly.

Aemond’s gaze lingers, his voice low but steady. “They don’t see you for who you are. To Mother, you’re a pawn; to them, a symbol. But I see you.”

Your breath hitches, his words stirring something deep within you. Before you can reply, he gently brushes a strand of hair from your face.

“I know how she treats you,” he continues, his tone measured but intense. “Always demanding, always expecting. But you don’t have to bear it alone. I’ll always be here.”

“Aemond…” you begin, unsure of what to say, but he interrupts with a faint smile. “Rest. If she troubles you again tomorrow, come to me—or Father. I’ll handle it.”

Without waiting for a response, he rises, his movements deliberate. At the door, he pauses, glancing back with a rare softness in his eyes.

“Remember, I’m always here.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re left with a strange mixture of comfort and unease. Aemond’s presence was your refuge, but his intensity… it left a lingering weight in the air.

It was already dark when you decided to take a bath. Perhaps it would help ease the tension gripping your body. Surely Mother wouldn’t mind—not if it was just a few minutes to the bathing chambers nearby.

The corridor was silent as you slipped out, your footsteps a soft echo in the stillness. You moved swiftly, heart racing with the thrill of disobedience. Reaching the bathing chamber, you let out a quiet sigh of relief, pushing the heavy door shut behind you.

But before it could close, a hand shot out, stopping it. Panic flared as another arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back, and a hand covered your mouth before you could scream. Your heart pounded, every nerve on edge, until the faint scent of leather and cedarwood registered.

“Relax,” came a low, familiar voice, its velvety tone tinged with amusement. “It’s just me.” You pull his hand away and whirl around, your expression a mix of relief and exasperation. “You scared me half to death!” you whisper fiercely, mindful of the echoing corridors outside.—”

“Forgive me, my lady. I couldn’t resist.”

“This isn’t funny,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “If Mother knew you were here—”

“She’d lock you away again?” he finished, his smile fading as his brown eyes softened. “I know. That’s why I had to see you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you trapped in that room, alone, while she wields her control over you.”

His words sent a rebellious spark through you, a flicker of validation in the face of your mother’s suffocating expectations. But just as quickly, the reality of your situation weighed it down. “Alaric, you shouldn’t be here,” you whispered, glancing nervously at the door. “If Aemond finds out…”

At the mention of your brother, Alaric’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening. “Aemond won’t find out. And even if he did, I’m not afraid of him.”

“You should be,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “He’d kill you if he thought—”

“That I cared for you?” Alaric said quietly, his gaze piercing.

Your breath caught, and you looked away, heat rising to your cheeks. “You shouldn’t care for me,” you muttered. “It’s not safe—for either of us.”

“And yet, here I am,” he said softly, his hand reaching out to tilt your chin up, his touch gentle but insistent. “I don’t care about the risk, (your name). I’d rather face Aemond’s sword and your mother’s wrath than stay away from you.”

The weight of his words struck you, before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you. Grabbing his arm, you pull him back, your heart pounding. His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t hesitate. His hands find your waist as you lean in, and his lips meet yours in a kiss that drowns out every rule, every fear, and every consequence.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was desperation and lust, a silent scream against the forces trying to pull you apart. For a fleeting moment, the world dissolved. No Mother. No Aemond. No suffocating expectations. Just Alaric and the reckless hope he represented.

When you finally pulled away, your breaths came fast, and your cheeks burned. Alaric’s eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak, his thumb brushing the curve of your jaw.

“I…” you started, but your words faltered.

His lips curved into a faint smile, tender yet resolute. “Say the word, and I’ll stay. No matter what.”

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “No. Not tonight. But… tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he echoed, one brow lifting in curiosity.

“Here,” you said firmly. “The same time, the same place. I’ll find a way.”

He studied you for a moment, as if weighing the risk against the determination in your eyes. Then, he nodded. “Tomorrow, then.”

With a final lingering kiss to your forehead, he stepped back toward the window. “Don't let her break you. Be careful, (your name).”

“You too,” you whispered, watching him slip into the night, his silhouette vanishing into the shadows.

As the quiet of the chamber settled around you, your fingers brushed your lips, the memory of his kiss still vivid. The enormity of what had happened began to sink in, but instead of fear, a strange exhilaration coursed through you.

The following day dawns with an air of tension you can’t quite shake. As you dress for your morning lessons, the memory of last night lingers like a forbidden dream. You replay every word, every touch, every moment with Alaric, but reality presses in too soon.

When you enter the dining hall for breakfast, Alicent’s gaze immediately locks onto you. Her expression is stiff, and her tone, when she speaks, carries a sharp edge.

“Sit,” she says curtly, her eyes flicking toward the chair opposite her.

You do as instructed, lowering yourself into the seat. Aemond is already there, silent but watchful as always, and Viserys occupies his usual place at the head of the table. His expression, however, is uncharacteristically lively this morning, his gaze softening when it lands on you.

“Good morning, my dear,” Viserys says warmly, his voice cutting through the tension.

“Good morning, Father,” you reply, a cautious smile tugging at your lips.

He waves a hand dismissively toward the plate before you. “Eat well. And don’t worry about that ridiculous punishment. You’re free to go about your day as you please.”

You blink in surprise, your fork pausing mid-air. Alicent stiffens visibly, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Viserys—” she begins, her voice tightly controlled, but he raises a hand to silence her.

“She’s done nothing to warrant being locked away, Alicent,” he says firmly, though his tone remains even. “Our daughter is a credit to this family. She carries herself with grace and dignity, and I won’t have her treated like some wayward child.”

Alicent’s hands clench in her lap, her composure barely holding. “It’s not about grace or dignity. It’s about discipline. She’s been sneaking off—”

“And you dealt with it, as you always do,” Viserys interrupts, his tone softening but leaving no room for argument. “But she’s learned her lesson, hasn’t she?” He glances at you with a fatherly smile.

“Yes, Father,” you reply quietly, your gaze lowering to avoid Alicent’s piercing stare.

“Good, then it’s settled.” Viserys returns to his meal, clearly considering the matter closed.

The tension at the table is palpable as Alicent pointedly cuts her food, the sound of her knife scraping against the plate unnervingly loud. Aemond exchanges a glance with you, a subtle flicker of support in his eye, but says nothing.

After breakfast, Alicent corners you just outside the hall, her voice low and sharp.

“Your father may see you as flawless, but perfection comes with a cost,” she hisses, her gaze cold. “You will not jeopardise what we’ve worked so hard to build with your recklessness.”

You swallow hard, nodding quickly. “Yes, Mother.”

Her glare intensifies, her tone biting. “You are the model of what a princess should be, and you will act accordingly. The court looks to you for inspiration, and I will not have them see weakness. Your lessons will continue, every one of them, and I will ensure your Septa does not coddle you.”

“Yes, Mother,” you reply, your voice steady but soft.

She studies you for a moment longer before sweeping away, her skirts rustling angrily behind her. The encounter leaves you standing tall, not because of fear, but because you know the weight of perfection that has been placed upon you—a weight you have always borne with grace.

The day stretches on, a never-ending cycle of lessons and expectations. Each moment is meticulously scheduled, a testament to your role as the perfect princess. Etiquette lessons are followed by hours spent discussing history, with each lecture becoming more and more of a blur. Valyrian is mastered with grace, the elegant words flowing from your lips as if they were second nature. The pressure to be flawless weighs heavily on you, but you bear it with an air of calm, never allowing it to show.

Throughout it all, Alicent remains a constant presence. She watches your every move, her sharp gaze never leaving you. You know she is pleased with your progress, but there is always a lingering sense of expectation in the air, as if the tiniest misstep would undo everything.

Even as you move from one task to another, the thought of Alaric flickers at the edges of your mind. The stolen kiss, the promise made—these moments linger in your thoughts like a secret thread woven through the fabric of your day. You push the thoughts aside, knowing you must focus on your duties. There is no room for distractions, not when you must remain perfect in every way.

Lunch comes and goes, a quiet affair with your family. You speak with your mother and Aegon, though your words are carefully measured. They don’t know—none of them do—but you catch Aegon’s eyes occasionally, a silent understanding passing between you. Afterward, you attend more lessons, this time under your mother’s watchful eye. Her gaze is always on you, sharp and piercing, but there’s also an unspoken encouragement there. She expects greatness, and you deliver it.

As the afternoon wanes, you move to your final task of the day: another meeting with Alicent. She inspects your progress with a critical eye, praising the things you’ve done well and reminding you of the things that still need perfecting. Her voice is firm, but there’s a gentleness there, too, the kind that only a mother can convey.

The hours pass like this, one after another, each duty completed to the highest standard. Finally, the evening arrives, and with it, the promise of a brief respite. Dinner with the family is a quiet affair, the room filled with the soft clinking of utensils and murmured conversation. You eat in silence, your mind elsewhere.

Afterward, you retire to your chambers. You change into your nightgown, the fabric cool against your skin. You look in the mirror for a moment, seeing the poised princess staring back at you. No mistakes. No cracks in the façade. Everything has been handled with perfect care.

You make your way to the bath chambers, the solitude of the corridors a small comfort. As you approach the door, you hear a voice from behind.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Alicent’s voice is sharp, and you freeze mid-step.

Turning slowly, you face her, the tension building in the air. “I’m going to take a bath, Mother,” you answer calmly, offering her a small, composed smile.

Alicent looks you over, her gaze lingering on your attire. “In that? Why are you dressed like that? You know it’s improper to go without the servants’ help.” Her tone is questioning, but not unkind.

“I didn’t want to trouble them, Mother,” you reply smoothly. “I thought I would go on my own this time, just to... clear my thoughts.”

Alicent studies you for a moment, her expression unreadable. “Very well,” she says, her voice softening slightly. “But you must remember to call for help if you need it. Don’t forget your place, (your name).”

You nod quickly. “Of course, Mother. I won’t be long.”

She gives you one last scrutinising look before nodding, satisfied for the moment. “See that you don’t. You’ve done well today, but there’s always more to be done. I’ll be watching.”

With that, she turns and walks away, leaving you alone in the quiet of the corridor. You exhale slowly, the tension in your body relaxing. Without another word, you slip into the bath chambers, and then you hear a sound outside the window. It’s him.

You approach the window, heart racing, and peek through the gap in the curtains. Alaric stands there, his presence unmistakable even in the dim light. His gaze meets yours, and the weight of the promise you made to each other the night before hangs in the air. The excitement builds in you as you move away from the window, quickly securing the door.

Moments later, the door creaks open just enough to reveal Alaric slipping inside, his eyes scanning the room before settling on you. His gaze lingers on your nightgown, the soft fabric clinging to your form in the dim light. You feel his eyes on you, heat rising in your chest. Neither of you speaks immediately—words are unnecessary now. The anticipation crackles between you, and it’s clear that tonight will be different.

He steps closer, the air thick with tension, and the space between you is filled with a promise of more. You meet his gaze, your heart pounding with the realization of everything you’re about to risk. But you don't care, and you know that neither does he. Without a word, you begin to unlace the ties of your nightgown, letting it fall to the floor at your feet, leaving yourself exposed completely to him. He watches you, his gaze intense, and then, without hesitation, he closes the distance between you. His lips crash against yours in a kiss that’s both hungry and desperate, a mix of desire and an unspoken understanding of the consequences. The kiss deepens, pulling you both into the moment, where nothing else matters but the heat between you, a connection neither of you can deny.

“Wait, I don’t want to be impure, even if I love you too much, and I need you so much that even words can’t describe it,” you say, voice trembling with a mix of desire and guilt. “I don’t want to disappoint my family by being impure before the wedding.”

Alaric watches you, his eyes dark with an intensity that both comforts and unsettles you. Even though you know he’s hungry, his gaze softens with concern, a frown tugging at his features. “Then don’t do it,” he says, his voice low and steady, almost like a promise. “We can always do other things.”

His words are a balm to your anxious heart, yet there’s something deeper in his tone, an unspoken suggestion that he’s willing to go to great lengths to keep you safe, to protect you—his obsession so deeply rooted in his care for you, and yet, there's a hint of something darker behind his gaze.

You hesitate, your hands shaking slightly as you look away, unsure if his care for you is truly all it seems. "But what if... what if I'm not enough for you?"

Alaric steps closer, his presence overwhelming as he lifts your chin gently with one hand. "You are more than enough," he says, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. "And no matter what happens, I'll make sure you're never alone."

His lips brush your forehead in a tender gesture, but the warmth doesn't quite reach your heart. You can feel the weight of his gaze, the unspoken promise of his love—and perhaps something more—pressing on you.

"You don't need to worry," he adds, his words both comforting and possessive. "I'll take care of everything. You just need to trust me."

And before you can say anything, he runs his hand down your body, touching your tits, your belly, all the way down to your private parts. You feel his fingers on your clitoris, circling, you want to moan, but before you do, his other hand goes to your mouth. As his head moves down your neck, kissing and sucking, but not leaving any marks. You were feeling so good, you don't know what he is doing down there and then he move away his hand of your mouth, and grabs yours, and guide to his dick and star to make moves.

"Just let me make you feel good too, all right, my lady?" Alaric’s voice is soft yet commanding, a tone that leaves no room for doubt.

You nod silently, your mind hazy and overwhelmed. You don’t fully understand what you’re doing; all you know is that you feel so good, so utterly consumed by the moment, that everything else fades into the background.

You barely notice what he’s doing with your hand or how quickly he’s guiding it. His touch is deliberate, firm, yet somehow gentle enough to keep you entranced.

You don’t have any idea what’s happening; the world around you blurs into pleasure and nothingness. All you know is the sensation—the warmth spreading through you, the dizzying rush of emotions—and the way he looks at you, as if you’re the only thing that matters in his entire world.

Pt. 4 >> (Coming Soon)

Author’s note: My apologies for the delay, I’ve had a busy few months, but I’m here now, and I hope to release part 4 very soon. Tomorrow, I’ll be posting some headcanons that I hope you’ll enjoy.

Taglist: @ursinaw @dakota-rain666 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @pookiedragonfire @jjggdfvvy @maryldrsstuff @1soultaken @ceramic-raven @eissaaaa @moodyblueberrytree @xadaboo @labryel @zoeyburton @hopingtoclearmedschool

[urdnotstxrm]

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen & Reader

AU: The Targaryen family dynamics are a blend of political intrigue and personal emotions. Rhaenyra Targaryen, the strong-willed and fiery daughter of King Viserys, is caught in a dilemma. Her father has decreed that for her to secure the Iron Throne, she must marry your brother, a match designed to solidify alliances and secure her claim. Despite this, Rhaenyra's heart belongs to you.

Continuation from here

In the guest chamber provided by your family, Rhaenyra paces restlessly. The room, though opulent, feels like a gilded cage. She can still feel the warmth of your embrace, the comfort of your presence, and it contrasts sharply with the cold reality of her situation. Her father’s decree rings in her ears, a constant reminder of the price she must pay for the throne.Rhaenyra sits by the fireplace, staring into the flames, her thoughts consumed by you. She grapples with the unfairness of it all—the love she feels for you versus the duty imposed upon her. She contemplates her options, the rebellious spark within her urging her to defy her father, to claim her own destiny. But the repercussions of such defiance weigh heavily on her mind. She fears the chaos and bloodshed that might ensue if she were to follow her heart. She thinks of you, your noble sacrifice, and it fills her with both admiration and sorrow. She knows the burden you carry, the conflict between your honor and your love for her. She wonders if there is a way to change her father’s mind, to make him see that her happiness lies not in a strategic marriage but in a union of love. As the days pass, Rhaenyra’s resolve hardens. She is a dragon, after all, and dragons are not meant to be caged. She vows to find a way to be with you, no matter the cost. For now, she clings to the hope that love will prevail, even in the face of insurmountable odds.

In the solitude of your chamber, the nights seem longer and the days, more burdensome. You sit by the window, staring out at the moonlit landscape, replaying every moment with Rhaenyra in the stables. Her words, her touch, her desperation—they haunt you. The weight of your responsibilities presses down heavily. You recall your decision to yield your right to leadership, a choice made out of duty and honor, and now it feels like a chain binding you, preventing you from following your heart. You think of your younger brother, his strengths, and the trust you placed in him. You hope he can understand the depth of your sacrifice, even if he never learns the true reason behind it. Your mind drifts to Rhaenyra’s plea, her tear-filled eyes begging for a future you cannot promise. You wonder if there could ever be a way to reconcile duty with desire, a way to find happiness without shattering the delicate balance of your world. The sound of the festivities from the great hall below echoes faintly in your chamber, a reminder of the life you are expected to lead. But your heart remains in the stables, with Rhaenyra, in that fleeting moment of shared love and sorrow.

The night was quiet and cool, the moon casting a soft, silvery light over the landscape. Unable to sleep, you stared out of your window, thoughts of Rhaenyra filling your mind. Suddenly, you noticed a solitary figure slipping out of the house and making their way towards the river. It was Rhaenyra. Curiosity and concern took hold of you, and you quickly decided to follow her at a safe distance. You moved silently, making sure not to alert her of your presence. Rhaenyra walked with purpose, her cloak billowing slightly in the gentle breeze. She reached the riverbank and paused, glancing around to ensure she was alone. Satisfied, she stepped into the water, the moonlight reflecting off the rippling surface. You remained hidden, watching her from the shadows. She waded deeper into the lake, the water lapping around her, a serene look on her face as she sought solace in the cool embrace of the water. Your heart ached with longing, knowing she was so close yet unreachable.

As you watched from the shadows, the night air seemed to grow thicker, more charged. The sight of Rhaenyra's clothes being shed before she stepped into the lake played over and over in your mind, each piece of fabric falling away revealing her form. Your heart pounded harder, the quiet stillness of the night doing nothing to quiet the thoughts invading your mind. You tried to focus on her safety, on the purity of your concern for her well-being, but it was impossible to ignore the stirring of desire within you. The moonlight accentuated her every movement, casting a soft glow on her bare skin as she moved through the water. You imagined the feel of that skin, smooth and warm under your fingertips, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine. The ache of longing mixed with a deeper, more primal desire. You found yourself gripping the edge of the tree you were hiding behind, trying to ground yourself, but your mind was filled with images of her—her body, her touch, her breathless whispers in the dark.

As you watched Rhaenyra in the moonlit water, your thoughts shifted from longing to a burning sense of injustice. The idea of your brother, destined to have her, filled you with a rage that was difficult to contain. He would be the one to hold her, to be by her side, to share her life in ways you could only dream of. The thought of him touching her, loving her, and claiming her as his own made your blood boil. Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you struggled to maintain your composure. It felt profoundly unfair that duty and circumstance had placed your brother in a position to be with the woman you loved. Every fiber of your being rebelled against the idea, and the jealousy and anger gnawed at your resolve. Rhaenyra, oblivious to your inner turmoil, continued to move gracefully in the water, a picture of serenity that only intensified your anguish. You wanted to be the one beside her, to be the one she turned to, the one she loved openly and freely. The knowledge that you could not change your fate or hers filled you with a helpless fury.

As you watched Rhaenyra, the vision of her in the moonlit water became too much to bear. Despite your efforts to stay composed, your body betrayed you. You felt the growing hardness in your trousers, a physical manifestation of the desire that had been gnawing at you. You glanced around once more to ensure you were alone, and your hand drifted down almost of its own accord, coming to rest on your erection. The sensation was immediate and intense, and you rubbed slowly, your mind flooded with sinful thoughts of what it would be like to touch her, to feel her skin against yours. Every movement of her body in the water fueled your fantasies. You imagined her turning towards you, inviting you to join her, her lips whispering your name with desire. The thought of her hands on you, her body pressed against yours, drove you to rub yourself harder, the pleasure and the torment of it mingling in an almost unbearable way.

Each stroke brought you closer to the edge, and you had to bite your lip to stifle a groan. The need for her was overwhelming, a burning ache that seemed to consume every part of you. You knew it was wrong, that your thoughts were a betrayal of your duty and your honor, but in that moment, all you could think about was Rhaenyra and the forbidden desire that she ignited within you. Your hand moved faster, driven by the images in your mind, the sight of her bare skin, the imagined feel of her under your touch. The tension built and built, your breathing growing ragged as you approached the brink. Finally, with a stifled gasp, you reached your climax, your body shuddering with the release. As the waves of pleasure subsided, you were left with a profound sense of guilt and longing. The night air felt colder against your skin, and the reality of your situation came crashing back. Rhaenyra was still there, just out of reach, and you were once again left with nothing but your unfulfilled desire and the painful knowledge that she could never truly be yours.

[httpvomitello]

The Secret of the Crown *⁠.⁠✧

rhaenyra targaryen x m!reader

alicent hightower x m!reader (one side love)

The gods could be cruel, but none more so than when they played with love.

You had grown up at Rhaenyra’s side, your younger sister and your other half. In your earliest years, you’d dreamt of the day you would marry her. It wasn’t uncommon for Targaryens to wed their siblings—indeed, it was tradition. You were told time and again that you were Visenya to her Aegon, the union destined to lead the family into a new golden age.

But dreams were fragile things, easily shattered by ambition.

When you reached your twentieth name day, your father, Viserys, summoned you to the throne room. Otto Hightower stood at his side like a shadow, his cunning gaze flickering toward you with satisfaction as Viserys spoke.

“You are my son, my heir, and I have chosen a match for you,” the king said, his tone kind but resolute.

You had barely heard the rest—only the name that tore through you like a dragon’s roar. Alicent Hightower.

It was Otto’s work, of course. You could see it in the way his mouth curved in victory, the way he whispered poisoned words into your father’s ear. Alicent was young, dutiful, and fertile. A perfect match for the prince who would inherit the Iron Throne.

Rhaenyra had been the first to console you when you told her the news. She had stormed into your chambers, her violet eyes blazing with fury.

“This is wrong,” she had hissed, her fingers gripping yours tightly. “You are my brother. My future. You are meant for me.”

“And yet Father has decreed otherwise,” you said bitterly, your voice laced with grief. “What would you have me do, Rhaenyra? Refuse him? Bring shame to our house?”

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she cupped your face, her touch soft yet firm. “Then shame them all, brother. You are mine, as I am yours. I will not let them take you from me.”

You had kissed her then, for the first time. It was forbidden, reckless, and utterly intoxicating. In that moment, you swore to her that no matter what came, she would always have your heart.

But words, like dreams, could only carry so much weight in the face of duty.

The years passed, and you did as was expected of you. You wed Alicent in a ceremony that felt like a funeral. She was kind, gentle, and eager to please—a good woman who loved you more than you could ever love her. Together, you had children, your duty to the realm fulfilled.

But your heart remained with Rhaenyra.

You and your sister stole moments when you could—hidden glances, whispered words, fleeting touches that left you both yearning for more. It was dangerous, but neither of you could stop. The bond you shared was too deep, too consuming.

When Rhaenyra was wed to Laenor Velaryon, you stood by her side, your face a mask of stoic pride. But the way she looked at you during the vows, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, nearly broke you.

It wasn’t long after her marriage that the whispers began. Her children, while beloved, bore none of Laenor’s features. Instead, they carried the unmistakable silver hair and violet eyes of the Targaryens—a resemblance that did not go unnoticed.

Alicent was the first to voice her suspicions.

One night, the truth unraveled in a storm of anger and grief.

Alicent confronted you in your chambers, her green gown swishing against the stone floor as she paced. Her face was pale, her lips trembling with a mixture of fury and heartbreak.

“Do not lie to me, my husband,” she said, her voice sharp as Valyrian steel. “Rhaenyra’s children… are they yours?”

You froze, the weight of her words crashing down on you like a wave. Alicent stepped closer, her eyes blazing.

“Answer me!” she demanded, tears spilling freely now. “The way you look at her, the way you speak her name—it is not the love of a brother. Have you dishonored me, your wife, your future queen?”

For a moment, you considered denying it. But what use were lies now, when the truth was already etched into the faces of Rhaenyra’s sons?

“Yes,” you said quietly, your voice heavy with guilt. “Rhaenyra is the mother of my children.”

Alicent let out a strangled cry, her hands fisting at her sides. “You betrayed me,” she whispered. “You betrayed us. Was I nothing to you?”

“No,” you said firmly, stepping toward her. “You have always been good to me, Alicent. You have been a dutiful wife, a loving mother to our children. But my heart was never mine to give.”

Her face crumpled, and she turned away from you, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “You should have told me. You should have freed me from this mockery of a marriage.”

“And what would that have changed?” you asked bitterly. “We are all prisoners of duty, Alicent. You, me, Rhaenyra—none of us are free.”

She looked back at you, her expression one of resignation. “Perhaps not,” she said quietly. “But the realm will burn if the truth of this affair is revealed. You must end it. For all our sakes.”

[theplotmage]

Murder Mystery, Occult, Paranormal & Fantasy Prompt Ideas for Writers

1. The Cursed Amulet - A wealthy collector is found dead after acquiring a cursed amulet. The protagonist must uncover the artifact’s dark history to solve the murder.

2. Blood Moon Ritual - During a blood moon, a prominent figure is sacrificed in a forbidden ritual. The investigator discovers a cult trying to summon an ancient deity.

3. Witch’s Grimoire - A renowned witch is murdered, and her grimoire is stolen. The book contains spells powerful enough to alter reality.

4. Haunted Manor - Guests at a secluded manor start dying mysteriously. It’s said the house is haunted by vengeful spirits from a tragic past.

5. Necromancer’s Revenge - A necromancer brings people back from the dead to seek revenge on those who wronged him, resulting in a string of murders.

6. Sorcerer’s Apprentice - An apprentice sorcerer is killed during a magical experiment gone wrong. The protagonist must navigate a web of magical deceit to find the killer.

7. Alchemical Poison - A series of deaths caused by an untraceable poison leads to an alchemist who’s using forbidden knowledge.

8. The Phantom Assassin - A shadowy figure with supernatural abilities is killing off members of a secret society.

9. Demon Pact - A series of murders mimic those described in an ancient text about summoning a demon. The protagonist suspects a pact with dark forces.

10. Arcane Library - A librarian is found dead in a magical library where books can come to life. The books themselves hold clues to the murder.

11. Midnight Masquerade - At a masquerade ball, a guest is killed, and the murder is linked to an ancient ritual involving the masks.

12. Sacred Relic - A sacred relic is stolen, and those connected to its theft are being murdered by a guardian spirit.

13. Time-Worn Curse - An old curse reawakens, killing the descendants of the original cursed family. The investigator must break the curse to stop the murders.

14. Vampire’s Thrall - Murders in a town coincide with the arrival of a charismatic stranger who may be a vampire seeking revenge.

15. Elemental Fury - A mage controlling elemental forces is killing people who wronged him in the past. Each murder is committed using a different element.

16. Runic Inscription - Victims are found with runic inscriptions burned into their skin, leading the protagonist to an ancient prophecy.

17. Ghost Ship - A ship thought lost at sea reappears, its crew murdered. The investigator discovers the ship’s cursed history.

18. Puppet Master - An enchanted puppet is killing those who mistreated its creator, a deceased toymaker.

19. Celestial Alignment - Murders align with celestial events, suggesting a ritualistic pattern. The protagonist races against time to prevent the next murder.

20. Shadow Realm - Victims are being dragged into a parallel shadow realm, their bodies found drained of life.

21. Enchanted Forest - People who enter a forbidden forest are found dead, their bodies entwined with enchanted vines.

22. Murderous Djinn - A djinn, bound to an artifact, is killing people who come into possession of it.

23. Spellbound Love - A love potion gone wrong leads to obsessive love and murder.

24. Seer’s Vision - A seer predicts their own murder and enlists the protagonist to prevent it, but the future seems immutable.

25. Ritual Dagger - A dagger used in ancient sacrifices is rediscovered, and each person who touches it is killed.

26. Charmed Life - A person with a charm for eternal life starts aging rapidly and dies under mysterious circumstances.

27. Mystic Tattoo - A tattoo artist’s clients are being murdered, their tattoos turning into deadly curses.

28. Dragon’s Curse - A dragon’s curse starts killing those who stole from its hoard.

29. Mirror of Truth - An enchanted mirror reveals the darkest secrets of those who look into it, leading to a series of murders.

30. Ghostly Whisperer - A medium is killed by a spirit they summoned, who continues to haunt and kill.

31. Warding Sigil - A town’s protective sigil is broken, unleashing vengeful spirits on the townspeople.

32. Sorcerer’s Duel - A duel between powerful sorcerers results in one’s death, but the victor’s life is now in danger.

33. Forbidden Love - Star-crossed lovers from rival magical factions lead to a series of revenge killings.

34. Haunted Heirloom - An heirloom brings death to the family that inherits it, linked to an ancestor’s dark pact.

35. Shapeshifter’s Hunt - A shapeshifter is targeting a specific group, blending in seamlessly until the protagonist uncovers their true nature.

36. Arcane Academy - A student at a magical academy is killed during a spell-casting exam, and the murder is linked to a dark secret of the school.

37. Spectral Assassin - An assassin’s ghost seeks revenge on those who betrayed him in life.

38. Illusionist’s Game - An illusionist’s final trick results in real deaths, with magic and deception intertwining.

39. Golem Rampage - A golem goes on a killing spree, and the investigator must find its creator to stop it.

40. Philosopher’s Stone - A hunt for the philosopher’s stone leads to deadly competition and betrayal.

41. Mystic Caravan - A traveling caravan brings death wherever it goes, linked to an ancient curse.

42. Sealed Tomb - An ancient tomb is opened, releasing a vengeful spirit that begins killing those responsible.

43. Moonlit Beast - A werewolf’s attacks coincide with the full moon, but this werewolf is being controlled by someone with dark intentions.

44. Soul Harvest - Victims are found with their souls extracted, leading to a dark sorcerer seeking immortality.

45. Witch Hunt - A series of witch trials results in the wrongful deaths of innocents, whose spirits now seek vengeance.

46. Crystal Prophecy - A prophecy within a crystal ball foretells murders, but the seer is manipulating events to fulfill it.

47. Enchanted Theater - Actors in a theater troupe start dying in ways that mimic their cursed roles.

48. Dark Covenant - A secret society’s members are being killed off one by one, linked to a broken blood pact.

49. Doppelganger’s Curse - Victims are replaced by malevolent doppelgangers who are committing murders in their place.

50. Forgotten Sanctuary - An ancient sanctuary is disturbed, releasing an entity that begins killing those who desecrated it.

[onebadassunicorn]

All I Want Is You

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: pure fluff!

word count: 3.2k

Taglist: @firefly-forest @salvatoresister1 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @batboyslutt @tiredsleepyhead

Image owned by Velocity Visual Media.

Read previous chapters here:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

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Chapter 4

Feyre POV

The following night, the River House buzzed with anticipation as the Inner Circle prepared for a dinner unlike any other. Tonight, for the first time, they would meet Y/n and Azriella—the family Azriel had kept to himself for weeks.

Feyre flitted about the kitchen, placing the finishing touches on a feast that even Rhysand had been forbidden from sampling early. Cassian lounged by the hearth, though his restless wings betrayed his excitement, while Mor hovered near the door, practically vibrating with curiosity. Amren, of course, sat calmly in her usual chair, though her sharp silver eyes occasionally flicked toward the door.

“Do you think Azriel’s nervous?” Feyre asked, setting a tray of desserts on the table.

Cassian snorted. “If he’s not, he should be. Mor’s been preparing questions for weeks.”

Mor rolled her eyes, tossing her golden hair over her shoulder. “I just want to make sure she’s good for him. We’ve all seen how much he’s suffered. If she hurts him—”

“She won’t,” Rhysand interrupted gently, his voice steady as he leaned against the mantle. “Azriel wouldn’t let anyone into his life if he didn’t trust them. And if he loves her…” He trailed off, his violet eyes softening. “Then she’s already passed every test.”

A knock on the door cut through the conversation, silencing the room.

“They’re here,” Feyre whispered, smoothing her dress as Rhysand moved to answer the door.

When the door opened, Azriel stood there, his wings neatly folded behind him and his face calm, though his hazel eyes carried a flicker of nervousness. Beside him was Y/n, her raven-black hair glinting in the light of the setting sun, her green eyes bright but wary. And in front of them, clutching Azriel’s hand, was Azriella.

The little girl looked around the grand house with wide, curious eyes, her small Illyrian wings fluttering slightly as she clutched a toy dragon in her free hand.

“Come in,” Rhysand said warmly, stepping aside to let them enter.

As they walked into the sitting room, all eyes turned to the newcomers. Y/n’s cheeks flushed under the scrutiny, but she held her head high, her grip tightening slightly on Azriel’s arm. Azriella, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed, her eyes lighting up as she spotted the glittering Solstice decorations Feyre had yet to take down.

“This is my mate, Y/n,” Azriel said, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “And this”—he glanced down at the little girl beside him, his expression softening - “my daughter Azriella.”

“Hi,” Azriella said brightly, waving her toy dragon in greeting. “I like your tree!”

The room burst into laughter, the tension dissolving instantly.

Feyre was the first to step forward, her smile warm as she crouched to Azriella’s level. “Thank you,” she said. “Do you like Solstice trees?”

Azriella nodded enthusiastically. “We had one! Daddy helped me put the star on top. He flew me all the way up!”

Cassian let out a bark of laughter, clapping Azriel on the shoulder. “Good to know those wings are finally being put to good use.”

Y/n laughed softly, her nervousness easing as she took in the smiles and warmth surrounding her. “It’s nice to finally meet all of you,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “Azriel’s told me so much about you.”

“He hasn’t told us nearly enough about you,” Mor said, stepping forward with a grin. She glanced at Azriel, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been holding out on us, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel gave her a wry look but said nothing, his hand resting protectively on Y/n’s back.

“You’re welcome here,” Rhysand said, his voice sincere as he addressed Y/n. “Both of you. You’re family now.”

Y/n’s eyes softened, and she nodded, her gratitude evident even if she didn’t say the words aloud.

******

Azriel POV

As everyone gathered around the table, Ella Bear quickly became the center of attention. She chattered happily with her Uncle Cassian, who was utterly charmed by her, and even managed to coax a smile from Nesta as she proudly showed off her dragon. Y/n, meanwhile, found herself enveloped in Feyre and Mor’s easy camaraderie, their questions curious but kind.

Azriel sat at the table, taking everything in, his hazel eyes reflecting the contentment in his heart. Watching Y/n laugh with Feyre and Mor, seeing Ella Bear curled up in Cassian’s lap as he told her a dramatic tale of Illyrian battles, he realized something profound: he wasn’t just introducing his family to his friends.

They were all his family now.

Together.

And for the first time in years, Azriel felt completely at peace.

*******

Y/n POV

As the dinner wound down and Azriella drifted off to sleep in Cassian’s lap, the fire crackled softly in the hearth, the room cozy and warm, but you could feel the weight of unspoken questions from Feyre and Mor.

Feyre leaned forward slightly, her tone gentle. “If it’s alright, Y/n, I wanted to ask—where have you been all these years?”

Mor nodded, her golden eyes warm but curious. “Azriel’s been… carrying the weight of your absence for a long time. We don’t mean to pry, but we’d love to understand.”

You hesitated, your hands twisting in your lap as you glanced at Azriel. He sat across from you nearby, speaking quietly with Rhysand, but his attention flicked to you, his hazel eyes steady and reassuring. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

“It’s not an easy story to tell,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “But you all deserve to know.”

Feyre reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “Take your time. We’re here to listen.”

You nodded, your green eyes glistening as she began. “When I found out I was pregnant with Azriella, I wanted to come back to Velaris. I wanted to find Azriel and tell him everything. But my father… he wouldn’t let me.”

Mor’s brows furrowed, and Feyre’s expression turned pained. “What do you mean?” Mor asked softly.

Your hands tightened in your lap, your voice dropping. “My father was a powerful man in Montesere, but he was also controlling—cruel, even. He valued our family’s reputation and business above everything else, and when I told him I wanted to leave to find Azriel, he forbade it.”

Feyre’s hand tightened on your arm, her blue-gray eyes filled with quiet outrage. “He kept you there?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “He made it impossible for me to leave. He buried me in work, overwhelmed me with responsibilities so I wouldn’t have time to even think about leaving the estate. And when I tried to push back…” You hesitated, your voice breaking slightly. “He threatened me. He said if I ever tried to leave, he would take Azriella from me. That he would make sure I never saw her again.”

Mor let out a sharp breath, her eyes blazing. “That bastard.”

You gave a faint, humorless laugh. “Yes, he was. For years, I felt trapped, like I had no choice but to stay and do what he wanted. I was terrified of losing Azriella, and I didn’t know how to fight back.”

“And what changed?” Feyre asked gently, her voice soft with compassion.

Your expression shifted, a mixture of sadness and relief crossing your face. “My father passed away a few months ago. When my brother, Ryolin, took over the family business, he released me from all of my obligations. He told me it was time to find my happiness, to live my life.”

Your voice trembled as you continued. “The first thing I did was come here. I didn’t know if Azriel would still want me, or if he’d moved on. But I had to try. I had to give Azriella the chance to know her father, and I had to know if there was still a place for us in his life.”

Feyre’s eyes shimmered with tears, her hand tightening on your arm. “You’ve been through so much,” she said softly. “But you’re here now. You’re safe. And you’re with Azriel. That’s all that matters.”

You smiled faintly, your gaze flicking to Azriel, who had turned fully toward you now, his hazel eyes steady and full of quiet reassurance. “Yes,” you said, your voice steadier now. “We’re finally where we’re meant to be.”

Mor leaned closer, her golden eyes softening. “I’m glad you came back,” she said sincerely. “Azriel’s been carrying so much for so long. Seeing him like this—seeing him happy—it’s like a part of him has finally come back to life.”

Your chest tightened, a tear slipping down your cheek. “I love him,” you said simply. “I always have. And now, I just want to give him the happiness he’s given me.”

As Feyre and Mor reached out to embrace you, the warmth of their acceptance wrapped around you like a shield. You knew you still had a long way to go, that rebuilding your life and your family would take time. But for the first time in years, you felt truly free—and surrounded by the kind of love you had always dreamed of.

******

Azriel’s POV

The idea had been lingering in Azriel’s mind for weeks. Y/n was his mate, his partner, and the mother of his child. She was already his in every way that mattered—but he wanted more. He wanted to give her something tangible, something that symbolized the depth of his love and their commitment.

And so, with his usual precision and care, he made his plans.

One crisp spring evening, Azriel led Y/n through the streets of Velaris, his hand warm around hers. Ella Bear was safely tucked in at home under the watchful care of Feyre and Mor, giving them the rare opportunity for a night alone.

She looked up at him, curiosity flickering in her green eyes. “Where are we going?” she asked, her voice light with amusement.

“You’ll see,” Azriel replied, his hazel eyes glinting with a rare smile. “Trust me.”

She smiled, leaning into his side as they walked. “Always.”

When they turned the corner and Rita’s came into view, she stopped, her brow furrowing slightly. The building was dark, the windows devoid of the usual glow of lights and music.

“It’s closed?” she asked, glancing up at him.

Azriel gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his expression unreadable. “Not for us.”

He pushed open the door, revealing the interior bathed in soft candlelight. The tables and chairs had been cleared to the sides, leaving the center of the room open, just as it had been that fateful night years ago. The music was soft and haunting, filling the empty space with a quiet, intimate melody.

Y/n’s breath caught as she stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the room. “Azriel…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You did this?”

He nodded, his wings shifting slightly behind him as he guided her to the center of the room. “I thought it was time to make new memories here,” he said softly. “Memories for just the two of us.”

She turned to him, her green eyes shimmering with emotion. “It’s perfect.”

Azriel smiled, his heart pounding as he led her to the exact spot where he had first cut in on her dance all those years ago. He paused, his hands gently holding hers as he looked into her eyes.

“This is where it all began,” he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “The moment I saw you, I knew my life would never be the same. And now, after everything we’ve been through, I want to make this place even more special.”

Before she could respond, Azriel dropped to one knee, his wings folding behind him as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small, intricately carved box and opened it to reveal a ring—a delicate band of silver set with a single emerald that seemed to reflect her eyes.

“Baby,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, “you are my mate, my love, and my home. You’ve given me more joy than I ever thought I deserved, and I want to spend the rest of my life proving how much I love you. I know we accepted the bond weeks ago when you cooked a meal for me on Solstice Day, but will you do me the honor of declaring ourselves bonded mates in front of Velaris?”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she stared at him, her hand flying to her mouth. For a moment, she was too overwhelmed to speak, her heart pounding with a love so fierce it stole her breath.

“Yes,” she finally managed, her voice breaking as she nodded fervently. “Yes, Azriel, I will.”

Relief and joy flooded his face as he slipped the ring onto her finger, his hands trembling slightly. He rose to his feet, pulling her into his arms as her tears dampened his shoulder.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “More than you’ll ever know.”

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s embrace, before Azriel stepped back, his hazel eyes filled with quiet mischief.

“Now,” he said, offering her his hand, “may I have this dance?”

She laughed through her tears, her hand sliding into his as he pulled her close. Together, they swayed to the soft music, their hearts beating as one.

******

Azriel POV

The day of their mating ceremony dawned bright and clear, the sky over Velaris a perfect expanse of blue. The ceremony was set in an open courtyard surrounded by blooming flowers, the Sidra glimmering in the distance. Feyre had outdone herself with the decorations, weaving subtle magic into the petals and ribbons that adorned every surface, ensuring they shimmered softly in the sunlight.

Azriel stood at the altar, his wings tucked neatly behind him, his hazel eyes fixed on the end of the aisle. He wore a tailored black suit with silver accents, his shadows subdued but swirling faintly around his feet as though reflecting his emotions. Cassian stood beside him as his best man, clapping a hand on his shoulder now and then to ground him, though even the general of the Illyrian legions looked misty-eyed. Rhysand, resplendent in deep violet robes, stood at the altar, his expression warm and steady as he prepared to officiate.

But Azriel’s attention was entirely focused on the end of the aisle, where she would soon appear. His chest felt tight, his heart racing as he waited. This was it—the moment he had dreamed of for years.

When she appeared, the courtyard fell silent.

She was radiant. Her fitted, sleeveless gown hugged her curves perfectly, the beaded bodice catching the sunlight and shimmering like starlight. The dress flared at her knees into a dramatic mermaid fit, the fabric cascading to her feet and trailing into a cathedral-length train behind her. Her dark hair that he loved so much was down in waves, and a simple veil floated gently behind her.

She walked arm in arm with her brother, Ryolin, who stood tall and proud at her side. His expression was one of love and admiration as he guided her forward. Ella Bear walked just ahead of them, holding a small bouquet of flowers in her tiny hands, her Illyrian wings fluttering with excitement.

Azriel’s breath caught the moment he saw Y/n. She was breathtaking, a vision of beauty and grace. Tears welled in his hazel eyes, glistening as they slipped down his cheeks, but he made no move to wipe them away. She was everything—his mate, his love, his future—and in that moment, he felt his heart swell to the point of breaking.

******

Y/n POV

Your green eyes locked onto Azriel’s as you stepped closer, your own heart pounding. The sight of him standing there, tears glistening on his cheeks, his wings partially flared behind him, was almost too much. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen, and the depth of his love was etched in every line of his face. Your vision blurred with your own tears as you smiled, your grip tightening slightly on your brother’s arm.

When they reached the altar, Ryolin gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before passing you to Azriel. “Take care of her,” Ryolin said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes.

“With my life,” Azriel replied, his voice trembling as he took your hand in his.

As you stood beside him, you felt the bond between you and Azriel thrumming with warmth, a silent promise of the life you both were about to share. Azriella moved to stand beside you, her little wings twitching as she looked up at both of you with wide, happy eyes.

Rhysand began the ceremony, his voice deep and resonant as he spoke of love, commitment, and the strength of your bond. But when it came time for Azriel to speak his vows, he turned first to Azriella.

The little girl blinked up at him, her hazel eyes bright with curiosity. Azriel knelt before her, pulling a small box from his pocket. Inside was a delicate silver ring, sized perfectly for her tiny hand. The band was simple, with a small diamond that sparkled in the sunlight.

"Ella Bear,” Azriel said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. “You are my daughter, my heart, and my joy. I promise to love you, to protect you, and to always be there for you. With this ring, I vow to be the best father I can be, for the rest of my life.”

Tears streamed down your face as Azriella giggled, nodding eagerly. “I love you, Daddy,” she said, her voice clear and sweet as Azriel slipped the ring onto her finger. She threw her arms around his neck, and he held her close for a moment before standing to face you.

Taking your hands in his, Azriel’s hazel eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his love evident in every word as he recited his vows. “Y/n, my mate, my love, my everything. From the moment I met you, my world changed. I promise to cherish you, to honor you, and to stand beside you, no matter what life brings. You are my heart, my home, and my future. I love you more than words could ever express, and I vow to love you for the rest of my days.”

Your voice trembled as you repeated your vows, your hands shaking slightly in his. “Azriel, you are my mate, my strength, and my joy. I promise to love you, to stand by your side, and to share all of my days with you. You are my everything, and I thank the stars every day that they brought me back to you. I love you, and I always will.”

When Rhysand pronounced them as bonded mates forever, Azriel wasted no time pulling you into a kiss, his wings flaring slightly as the crowd erupted in cheers. Azriella clapped her hands excitedly, laughing as her Uncle Cassian scooped her up and spun her around.

Chapter 5

[lestatdelivncvurt]

𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader

When the heir of the Sea Snake fell in love with the Rogue Prince. A forbidden relationship hidden away from prying eyes with the promise of marriage.

fanfiction | House of the Dragon

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The Rogue Prince had ventured to Driftmark when the war was raging fiercely. Your beloved whom you haven't seen for an eternity. A love that blossomed in secret. Forbidden it may be, but love knows no boundaries as he speaks.

When night descended, you sought him. He sat in his chamber by the flickering fireplace. The flames burned proudly, reminiscent of dragonfire, yet dragonfire burns with a brighter flame. The door softly opened, heralding your clandestine arrival. The prince turned his gaze towards you. A smile gracing his lips as you approached him with purpose.

It was your curves and form that captivated him, alluring and enchanting. Oh, and your armor too. The gleaming armor stirred a primal desire within him.

"I've longed for your presence, Daemon," You uttered as you reached his side. His visage softly illuminated by the fire's glow. Your hand caressed his chin, sending a delightful shiver down his spine. A shiver of pleasure. Then, you gently held his chin between your fingers, brushing against his lips tenderly. You savored his breath, his gaze upon you, his exquisite beauty. You would gladly absorb it all like a parched hound.

Daemon smirked at you, pecking the finger that grazed his lips. "You remain as radiant as ever, jorrāelagon," love, he whispered. The endearment stirred your heart. You merely smirked back, concealing your emotions.

Choosing to broach another subject, you spoke, "Father desires me to be wed with another." Daemon's hand clenched at the words, his eyes ablaze with anger yet he remained silent. "He seeks an alliance with-"

The prince did not mask his feelings as he rose from his seat and drew near. His arm encircled your waist while his hand cradled your cheeks firmly, almost possessively. His eyes brimmed with fervent love and devotion. "You shall not be joined to another, jorrāelagon. If marriage is in your fate, it shall be solely with me."

"Our love does not know titles and customs." He murmured to you, "I will wed you." His gaze flickered to your lips before meeting your eyes again. Your faces dangerously close, "You shall be mine." And he was determined to make it a reality sooner rather than later.

A gasp caught in your throat as you whispered in return, "I want you. I accept you as you are. I will be wed to you." A silent vow that hung in the air as you both pressed your foreheads together. You closed your eyes, surrendering to the fervent love that enveloped you both.

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere self-aware Visenya Targaryen—yandere material if there ever was

Yandere Visenya has always denied her use of sorcery. It simply started as a passing interest in the supernatural when she was but a few moons from her ninth name day. The interest grew, like a dragonet, into something fiercesome and all-encompassing. She would spend the moon's hour researching and worshipping the gods of old. In return, she gained 'naejot ūndegon aōla' (to see yourself).

She met the love of her life that night. Both of your sets of eyes connected, and she felt an intangible spark. When she reached out to you, she could not touch. The connection faltered, and she was left alone without you for the first time.

Yandere Visenya had madness simmering under the surface because of you. People were gossiping at the thought that it was simply another woman falling into their 'womanly madness'. None in her family could get a word out of her about why she was so on edge.

She'd snap at a servant making the littlest mistake. She'd ignore her future husband and her sister. She'd spend days upon end stuck in odd rooms doing what was whispered as forbidden magic. She would ignore the claims and always present a strong face, but those closest to her knew that she had fallen for something, whether it was in love or a scheme.

Yandere Visenya had to marry her brother, for it was her duty. She loved no other than you. She only ever thought of you. They just thought of her as 'lumie' (sick). She did not want to be touched or seen by others. She seemed to grow paler and had aches and pains all over her body. What else could it be?

Yandere Visenya chose to ignore her health in order to continue working on the ability to contact you. Bit by bit, she'd grow stronger and could concentrate for longer. Soon she was able to see your visage clearly. She could make small contact with you—a hand on your thigh or a pat on your head.

You became her place to escape to.

She'd ramble to you about everything and anything. She'd get excited. Her voice would grow more expressive. Her hands contort into various poses as she does so. Giggles end up escaping her as well.

Those moments are the happiest she's ever had.

Her favorite topics are about dragons, magic, and weaponry. The topics are specifically her dragon, Vhagar, and her weapon, Dark Sister.

Yandere Visenya is aware that she is scaring you. She does her best to ease you into her naejot ūndegon aōla. She makes herself appear as harmless as she is able. She manipulates the text to hide her darker intentions and darkest moments.

She just wants your love. She gets enough confusion and fear from everybody else.

Yandere Visenya learns of a ritual to temporarily erase the barriers between worlds. She has to sacrifice those closest to her. It's easy. She lures her husband and his second wife to her chambers at night. She stabs them through the heart and sacrifices them to the gods that will help her.

Everything around her melts away as she is finally able to have you.

Yandere Visenya doesn't waste a moment. She takes your sleeping body into her realm before the ancient spell wears off. Only a handful of your belongings are taken with you. She knows what is most valuable to you, so she grabs those things.

While waiting for you to wake up, she snuggles into you. She grows drowsy and slowly fades into a state of slumber.

The sleep is perfect.

She needs nothing more than you by her side.