Latest Posts by tomriddleslovergirl - Page 5

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

One-shots:

The Cannibal Prince

Me & My Husband

Put me onto your Black Motorcycle (coming soon)

Headcanons

Aemond and Aegon ii Targaryen’s reaction to You running away

Jealousy Headcanons

How They Mark You

House of the Dragon characters x Sick!Reader

House of the Dragon characters with a s/o that hates Targaryens

Jace + fearing for his mother's life House of the Dragon | 2.04 "The Red Dragon and the Gold"

AEGON II TARGARYEN & SUNFYRE in HOUSE OF THE DRAGON Season 2, Episode 4, "The Red Dragon and the Gold"

Watching Meleys look at Rhaenys, knowing she was going to die and wanting her rider to know she tried and would be with her until her last breath had me in TEARS

Hands on Me

Benjicot Blackwood x Fem!Reader x Aeron Bracken

Warnings: threesome, this is just pure smut, fingering, oral (male recieving) probably ooc because we don't see much of them

Summary: Aeron and Benji have a difficult time sharing.

a/n: this is my second time ever writing smut, so don't come at me lol. @lovebabe18 @cypherpt5fttaehyung

The hot air in the tent was shared by three naked bodies.

You lay between the two men — Benji to your left and Aeron to your right. Benjicot’s lips were on yours, muffling your moans, while Aeron’s were on your breast, sucking on the hardened nipple. One of each man’s hands were between your thighs, rubbing at and finger fucking into your wet cunt.

Their hands accidentally overlapped each other's many times as they attempted to pleasure you.

Benji released your lips. “Back off, Bracken,” he practically growled the words out. His pale face was flushed and you couldn’t tell if it was because of his usual shyness or because of the fact he was sharing a girl with his sworn enemy.

Aeron let out a small grunt as he reluctantly looked over at Benjicot, his hand now resting on your thigh.

“You back off, Blackwood.” You knew Aeron was trying to be intimidating, but his soft voice was not aiding him in doing so.

You had this peculiar arrangement with the two boys. During times of sexual need, the boys would come to you for help and you to one of them. Neither were fond of their enemy fucking the object of their desires, but you were not ready to commit yourself to anyone. And besides, you liked the drama.

You let out a small, annoyed whine. “Must you two argue right now?”

“Blackwood started it.”

Benji scoffed. “Me? You were the one getting your fat hand everywhere and hogging her.”

You roll your eyes and rest your weight on your elbows so you can get a clear look at Benjicot and Aeron.

“You two are acting like children,” you say, perhaps regretting this scheme of yours. When you had sex with Benji, it felt pleasurable, and the same could be said for when you fucked with Aeron. You had thought it would feel even better with the both of them, but you were beginning to feel impatient. You’d not finished once!

Aeron and Benji opened their mouths to form a rebuttal, but you beat them to it. “Perhaps, I should find another man to help me finish, if you two won’t.”

Instantly, Benji flipped you over so you were laying on your stomach. You let out a pleased grunt in return and rested on your hands and knees.

“I think something ought to be done about that sharp tongue of yours,” Aeron says, situating himself in front of you.

Ben grabs your thighs and spreads them to fit his body between your legs. One of his hands held onto your hip as the other grabbed his cock, rubbing it against your slit. He let out a small moan, feeling how wet you are. “Fuck.”

You lean forward and take the tip of Aeron’s cock in your mouth. The Bracken lets out a moan as he shuts his eyes, focusing on the way your tongue feels on his cock. Aeron reaches one hand out and digs his fingers into your scalp, tugging on the strands of your hair.

Suddenly, you feel Benji thrust his cock into your cunt, forcing you to fully take in Aeron. They both whisper profanities as you gag on Aeron’s dick. Benicot gives you a moment to get used to the feeling of his dick in you before moving in and out.

Your upper body is delightfully pushed towards Aeron in time with Benji’s thrusts. You try not to neglect the man in front of you by focusing on the sparks of pleasure shooting through you because of Benji, and instead focus on Aeron.

As best as you can, you hollow your mouth and swirl your tongue around Aeron’s cock, sucking him off. He lets out small moans and — when he can form them — words of praise. “Just like that,” he gasps out.

You move your head back and forth on Aeron’s dick, helping him face fuck you. You rest one of your hands on his thigh for stability as you continue to pleasure him with your mouth.

You moan when you feel Benji’s fingers rubbing circles on your clitoris, bringing you closer to ecstasy. Your sounds of pleasure eventually lead Aeron to his release first. You feel him tense before finally cumming. The salty liquid invades your mouth and you sputter. It dribbles down your chin and onto the ground underneath you. Slowly, he moves out of your mouth.

You and Benji are quick to follow Aeron in finishing. Your cry out in pleasure as you cum, Benji’s fingers and cock bringing you to completion. You can feel Ben’s balls slap against you and the sound of his heavy breathing. You grind against Benji’s cock and pelvis before he finally releases. He quickly pulls out of your hole and paints your ass and thighs in his cum.

You slump forward and lay down on your stomach, mind hazy from everything that’s just happened.

Someone’s hand wraps around your shoulder and tugs you toward their chest. Your eyes flutter open and see that it’s Aeron. Suddenly, Benji’s hand wraps around your waist and pulls you towards him, trying to force you away from Aeron.

You could already hear the argument that was about to begin.

still not over over kieran covered in blood and smoking

PLEASEEEE IM SO WEAK GIVE ME MORE OF HIM HE’S SO EFFORTLESSLY 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 AND LOOK THAT HIS HANDS!!! HIS HANDS!!!!!!!!!

Working on a Benjicot x reader x Aeron fic right now🤫

Edit! It's posted: Hands on Me

My blood covered, sexy deranged man

Credit/source: Kieran Burton’s instagram

girls...

Okay, but that growl when he says craven, little cunts is em...yeah.

...Lemme just replay that once more.

I LOVE DAEMON <3 he's so silly

The shortest marriage tour

summary: requested; Your mother had decided that you must find a husband and so she set you out on a tour to go to the different regions of the kingdom and seek out a husband. Though nobody will approach you with your father looming not even two steps behind you. You fear there is no hope until you reach house blackwood and meet the only son of samwell blackwood.

fancast!benjicot blackwood x reader

w.c: 3.8k

c.w: fluff ! history of house blackwood (could be inaccurate based off wiki), crazy ben for like two seconds, father daemon, more fluff, not proofread

a.n: hbo you will never stop me from writing this man he may be dead to you but to me he is alive and well as my benjicot fancast !

benjicot taglist: @spider-stark

the carriage is silent. the only sounds are the wheels turning against the soil and the occasionally sounds fabric as the two of readjust in your seats.

It had only been the first stop and it had been awful. It was supposed to be a marriage tour, where you would meet every eligible man in the six kingdoms but it instead felt you a much too long father daughter trip. He breathed down your neck not a single man would approach you unless you, with your father not too far behind, approached them and even then it never went well.

You have no clue why your mother even allowed him to come, maybe she didnt he just forced himself on this trip. You had thought your brother jace would accompany you but you worried that might be even worse than daemon and you expressed that to your mother, you did not think that would mean your father would wiggle his way into leave dragonstone and trailing around westeros with you.

You look out the window and notice its dark, very dark out. You would certainly not make it to your next stop until morning. “I told you we should have just waited until the next morning.” You scoff and glare at him. “And have to watch for yet another evening as all those people shit themselves whenever you speak? i apologize for not wishing to stay.” “they were never going to shit them themselves, maybe pee a little.” “is that not the same?” “no shit is much worse.”

Your father sits up and knocks on the roof of the carriage. “What house is the closest to us now?” “House blackwood my prince.” Your father contemplates for a moment before he nods to himself. “then we shall head there, you shall run in and inform them of us staying for the night.” “Of course my prince.” you grip into the walls as the carriage harshly turns and glare at your fathers pleased look. “oh what now?” “you are annoying.” He laughs.

You knew next to nothing about the blackwoods other than their infamous hatred for the brackens. You cannot help but agree with them for when you once met one of the bracken men he had tried to hit on you and it did not go over well. You hoped tonight would be quick and easy so you can slip out easy in the morning and get on your marry way.

It is not that you wanted to marry some lord certainly not, you simply wished to return home and finding the first man to even so much as not make you grimace with every word he speaks will be good enough for you. Even if your visit home will be short lived as your sure a wedding is to come soon after and you would have to relocate to your forever home. The more you thought about it the sicker you got so you pushed down your thoughts as the carriage stops.

Your father walks out of the carriage and helps you out. You take a look around, there was so much greenery, a huge field of grass and when you take a couple steps closer you can see some barns out in the distance. The castle itself was much more impressive then you had been expecting, you find yourself unable to look away from the white branches of the weirwood tree. The guard ran back out to the two of you, “The blackwoods would be more than happy to host you.” “Of course they would.” You slap your father on the arm, “May you please be a little nicer this evening.” he pouts at you before strolling off towards the doors and you close your eyes and take a deep breath before you follow after him, hopeful he is not too much of a pain in your ass.

You are led in by a couple guards and you almost crash into a maid who is running by, she quickly apologizes to you before running away. “Why is everyone in a rush?” “Well when the fucking prince shows up and says he wishes to stay for the night well past the time any reasonable person would be awake whatever are they supposed to do.” your father flashes you a blank look but you just grin at him and continue moving about the hall until you are in the main room. .

You’re sure the older man is samwell blackwood lord of the house but the face that catches your attention is the boy standing next to him. He was very pretty, even in the darkness of the room you thought he was very handsome and cup your hands together in front of you as you look straight ahead with a small grin on your face. “Welcome, it is an honor to host you prince and princess.” You nod while you father merely looks around the room. Samwell gestures towards the boy next to him who meekly steps forward, “My son, benjicot.” The boy bows and his eyes find yours already looking at him and his face grows red, “Hello.” He scratches the back of his head as he lets out an awkward smile.

“What type of name is be-” your father does not get to finish his words as your heel slams down onto his foot and he curses as he turns around, leaning down to grab at his legs. You do not acknowledge him simply stepping forward while the two men look back and forth between you and daemon. “It is wonderful to meet you both. I apologize for my fathers sudden intrusion of your home,” You father turns back to hiss at you, “Did you have to do it with you heel?” You ignore him and continue to keep your eyes on the two men, “If only my father was a better planner.” “I think you cut off my toe.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“Even if i did i would be doing you a favor your feet are horrendous.” “My feet are just fine.” “That is not what maid mary thinks. You had asked her to massage your feet one day and when she walked out of your chambers she gagged and held her hands far away from her as if she was holding horse shit.” You father looks at you horrified, “That is not true.” You shrug and chuckle to yourself as you think back on the day.

Samwell weakly laughs and claps his hands together before he speaks to you. “It is no issue princess do not fret. Please if there is anything i could do for either of you while you are here just let me know.” You can’t but glance at benjicot again and he is already looking at you. His eyes widen slightly as he sees you looking at him and he looks down at the ground, the tips of ears bright red. The grin on your face only grows, you wanted to talk to him but with your father by your side you are sure to not get anywhere.

“what about dinner?” you glare at your father, “do not listen to him it is far too late and he is terribly impolite,” samwell gestures to the maids who scurry off, “nonsense you must be starving, we shall cooking you up something.” An idea pops into your head and you grin to yourself. You look at your father who narrows his eyes at your face. “My father on the road was just telling me hes been dying for a good drink and a good drinking buddy.”

You slap your father on the back and he lets out a laugh as he tries to hide the confusion on his face. Samwell lights up at your words, “Well why dont we have a drink before dinner, our cellars are wonderful we have a dinning room just this way.” Daemon nods but he glares at you as he walks by and heads to samwell’s side who looks to benjicot, “Keep the princess company son.” Daemons eyes widen as he looks between the two of you, your plan becoming quite clear to him. Yet he gets the chance to say nothing as samwell basically drags him off and you send him away with a smile.

Letting out a sigh of relief you turn towards benjicot who smiles at you, “Gods i thought he would never leave.” He lets out an awkward laugh, unsure of what to say to you as you step closer to him. He rocks back and forth on his heels awkwardly but his eyes can seem to stray from your face for too long. You liked him you cant stop the real smile from growing on your face as you look at him.

You are however aware of the numerous eyes in the room that are on you, from maids to squires everyone is glancing at the two of you. “Could you show me around your lands? i know it is dark but i was so fascinated by it.” He eagerly nods, “Of course princess it would be an honor.” He offers you his arm and you take it, “Please call me something other than princess i cannot stand to hear it any longer.” “I could not princess.” You hum and bat your eyes at him and he turns away from you, “What about my lady then?” He smiles to himself and nods lightly. “If you say so, my lady.”

You like the way his words roll off his tongue too much and turn away from him as you feel your skin heat. The cools summer night air hits your skin and you admire the lands before you. You immediately stire the two of you to the weirwood tree and he chuckles. “i take it you like the weirwood tree my lady.” you look upon the crows resting on the tree in fascination. “not like i love it it is glorious. is there a reason they sit upon the tree?”

“not one that we know of my lady. they have been resting there every night for thousands of years now.” you hum as one of the ravens looks at you, you cant help your curiosity get the better of you ask you begin to ask him numerous questions about his family’s house, why had you never studied house blackwood before? “i thought weirwood was only in the north.” “house blackwood used to be in the north my lady until my ancestors were driven out of the wolfswood.”

“its fascinating. Does your family have any historical texts here?” He looks surprised at your question but nods, “of course my lady.” “will you allow me to borrow them? i shall return them of course.” its also an excuse to see you again. the words die on your tongue as much as your throat itches to release it. “You are free to keep them my lady.” “no no i could never.” he opens his mouth to argue but with a pointed look from you he turns away and his face grows red again. “Then you are free to borrow them my lady.”

You turn away from the tree pleased and the two of you walk out to the long field of grass, you look and see the small river that lines the land. Your eyes drift off to the windmill in the distance. The land was so peaceful with little firefly's lighting the land before you. “it’s beautiful.” “yes…” you turn to him and he is not looking at the view but his staring at you. you raise a brow at him, “you are not even looking at it.” a small smirk grows on his face, “i am actually. quite the view in front of me.”

You huff and turn away again your eyes catch the large rocks that draw a line between the two huge fields of grass. “is there a reason those rocks are there?” He stiffens and his voice is a lot more stiff when he speaks, “the other side is bracken land.” you tilt your head, “why do you not just, build a fence or something.” He laughs and shakes his head, “it is not so simply my lady, that requires material and funds we do not have.” “you have not brought it up with the king?” he shrugs, “my grandfather tried many years ago but they dismissed the matter to lord tully who turns a blind eye too it. pricks.” the last words is only muttered from his lips but you catch it anyway. “do you really need such a thing?” “maybe we would not if the brackens were not such-“ he stops himself as if remembering whos hes speaking to and composes himself, “They eat our grass, their cows”

You laugh out loud, so loudly you cover your mouth to hold in the sound. “it is no laughing matter my lady.” he says but he laughs while he speaks. You compose yourself and wipe your eye. “and what is the difference between the two grasses.” he looks at you as if you had said something scandalous, maybe you had. “our grass is much better than theres my lady.” “it does not look any different to me.”

He laughs but the smile slowly slips off his face as he continues to think. You take the moment to admire his face as he stares off into the distance, keeping every freckle and every mark in your memory. “they poisoned the tree.” you almost ask him what tree hes referring to until it clicks. “the weirwood tree.” He nods but does not look at you, continuing to glance out into the distance.

Everything suddenly makes sense, the generational rivalry stems from the tree. from the looks of it it looks as if the tree has been dead for a very long time. They hated them because they poisoned the weirwood tree.

“i shall bring it up with my grandsire.” he turns to you in confusion. “there shall be a wall built. I will see to it myself if i have to.” “you do not need to go to such lengths my lady-“ “consider it already done.”

you are already formulating in your head the letters you will send out to the tullys and your grandsire. Maybe it is better you see them in person, your father would not argue if you wish to head to house tully if anything you believe it to be a stop on your tour.

The look on his face is unreadable, but the two of you hold each others gaze for a while before he speaks. “you are very kind my lady.” His words are soft and you suddenly find yourself wanting to be closer to him if that was even possible. He eyes trail down to your lips and he looks back up at you.

The clanging of a bell suddenly snaps the two of you out of whatever trance you had been in and your head whip towards the castle. “dinner,,,” He turns to you and your stomach rumbles. You were not even thinking about food two seconds ago but he walks you back to the castle in silence and you cannot help but keep your mind on him.

He sits across from you at dinner though he does not eat anything while you sit next to your father who is as drunk as ever. Perfect. He was certainly not going to wake up until late into the afternoon especially since you would be going to bed late you even think he may not wake until the sun begins to set tomorrow.

You say nothing more to benjicot that night but the glances you steal say more than enough words.

You awake the next day much earlier than you had expected thought it is certainly still late normally you would be eating lunch by now. As if on que a maid walks into the room and brings you some lunch, you ask of your father and she states he still asleep, quickly shaking your head when she asks if you would like to wake him and tell her if anything nobody is to disturb him before being dismissed.

After lunch you roam around the halls a bit mindlessly looking for benjicot yet you happen to stumble upon his father instead who happily greets you. “good day lord blackwood, if you do not mind informing me where you son is?” A large knowing grin finds its way onto his face as he gestures outside. “he is out training princess. You should see him in the field.” You nod and say a quick goodbye before rushing outside. Samwell turns to one of his squires, “what did you say they were traveling around for again?” “the princesses marriage tour my lord.” samwell leans back into his seat, “well lets pray to the gods she likes my son.”

You find him rather quickly but freeze as you come upon him. You had no clue who the other boys were but you find yourself unable to take your eyes off benjicot. Was this truly the boy who could barely look you in the eye yesterday? He looked more like a rabid wolf, a feral grin on his face as he bested his peers with ease.

You have never seen a man act like him before and you liked it, maybe a little too much. Unable to stop the churning of your stomach as you can faint hear him laugh and it sounds a little sadistic. You should not be as, whatever you were feeling, right now as you are.

“i like him.” You jump as your father suddenly stands next to you and watches the boys with a devious grin. “what?” “pick that one i like him, he’ll fit right in.” You shakily laugh though the thought had crossed your mind in the couple hours youve been here more than once. “you’re crazy.”

The two of you stand in silence for a bit watching the boys practice but you cant even focus on them as your mind races. “would it truly be alright?” your father turns to you but you keep your gaze on benjicot. “if i picked him.”

a comforting hand is places on your shoulder “you are free to do whatever you wish to, it is your choice to make.”

One of the boys suddenly turns to you and his eyes widen as he quickly whispers in benjicot ear who whips around to look at you. “looks like weve been caught.”

The boys make their way over to you two and bow, “good day princess, my prince, we are so sorry we did not see you.” daemon laughs, “oh do not stop on our account please.”

You ignore your father and greet them anyway, you face hot from your earlier thoughts as you come face to face with benjicot. “good day benjicot and,, company?” The men at his sides introduce themselves as tully’s oscar and kermit, who you greet with a nod. “and please, call me ben, benny, benji, just not benjicot whatever you wish.” he stumbles over his words and you smile and let our a small laugh. “alright ben.” He smiles happily and kermit slaps his back causing ben to glare at him.

“does that offer extend to me or does it only apply to the pretty pretty princess.” Ben stumbles as he assures daemon he could do the same and daemon looks to you with raised brows pleased ben folds to his words, “i told you i like this one.” You roll your eyes as the three boys look amongst themselves with confusion but oscar grins.

You suddenly grow confident with you choices and turn back to walk into the castle, “i will be back.” The four men watch you walk away. Daemons smile grows on his face as he places a hand on benjicots shoulder. “good job boy.” Ben is more confused than ever but nods anyways and lets out a small thank you that ends with a question mark. Daemon suddenly starts asking him about his training and that easily distracts ben who spurs on about his youth.

You find samwell again rather easily who perks up at your arrival. “Did you need something princess?” He looks eager for your words, like he is on the edge of his seat but you do not notice. “would you accept if i asked for your sons hand?”

He quickly stands and you take a step back in surprise, “of course! yes yes i mean absolutely i would be more than happy for you to marry my son!” he grabs your hands and shakes your hand wildly. You did not think such a thing would be so simple as that and watch as he asks for a maid to fetch his son.

You cant help but laugh at the ridiculousness of this all. The way he was rambling off to his squire asking for letters to be sent out to his sister and the tullys. The way the maids can only watch this all go down in amazement. Benjicot soon comes into the room and is shocked when samwell walks over and grabs his face pressing a big kiss into his sons forehead. “what is going on?” You see your father walk into the room and he looks more than pleased as you roll your eyes at him.

samwell does not answer his son as he speaks, “i knew you were destined for greatness my son this is a joyous day. His eyes find yours and they widen as samwell walks off towards your father and the two of them begin discussing things you’re sure are about a wedding. “my lady?” you turn back to ben and smile at him. “i apologize for not asking you first but,,” you trail off and it suddenly clicks in his head. His face grows bright red and he opens and closes his mouth like a fish unable to speak. “my lady,,” His friends suddenly clap him on the back, “good work benny.” He looks down at the ground as a grin grows on his face and he looks back up at you.

“truly?” you shrug and walk closer to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “truly. if it pleases you.”

He laughs as if you had said the funniest joke, “it more than pleases me my lady.” you did not think this would truly go so well. What would your mother think? you had heard her tour lasted months and even then that was because she cut it short but you think she would be pleased knowing you had succeed in less than a months time.

I don't care if he's not Benjicot Blackwood, Kieran Burton is the perfect fancast. GIVE ME THE FANFICS! 🤡😭

fuck everyone who is racist towards Bethany

Ten Minutes

modern!Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

The sound of jacaerys' alarm disturbed the quiet that had settled in over the night. His hand shot out of the blanket and grabbed his phone, turning off the alarm.

Jace glanced at the corner of the screen. 5:50 a.m. In ten minutes he'll have to wake you up so you both could get ready for the day.

He let out a small sigh and shut his phone off before placing it back on the nightstand.

Jace rolled over so that he was laying on his side, facing your back. Thankfully his alarmed hadn't woken you up. He reached out and wrapped a hand around your waist. Jacaerys gently pulled your back to his chest and leaned forward to press his nose to your head, breathing you in.

Ten more minutes and he'll have to wake you up. Ten minutes spent with you.

when I'm re-watching the Harry Potter movies and the slytherin boys don't show up🙄

CONCEPT: Tom Riddle comforting you.

"If they dare touch a hair on your head, I'll fight to the last breath." — Hand in Glove (The Smiths)

TOM RIDDLE holding you so, so close—his arms wrapped around you as he hums. If you weren't feeling so terrible, you would notice his slender hands moving in a seemingly calculated manner as he strokes your hair. But as you continue to sob into his chest, you can't help but lose interest in your surroundings. In his arms, you feel wanted—a stark contrast from the usual treatment you get from others.

TOM RIDDLE frowning, his stern gaze focused distantly on the empty hallway. He hates seeing you cry, that is for certain, but he can't pinpoint exactly why. Why, in Merlin's green Earth, has he taken a liking to you?

TOM RIDDLE shaking his head to rid himself of his thoughts. When you briefly look up at him with your tear-stained eyes (perhaps concerned about how heavily he's breathing), his heart cannot help but flutter. Right then and there, he realizes: he has to protect you.

TOM RIDDLE holding you closer, his chin resting on the top of your head. As he grits his teeth, he thinks of all the curses he could potentially use against your tormentor.

TOM RIDDLE smirking, reminding himself of just how powerful he is—how much better he is (and, by extension, you are, too) than everyone else. He's eager to defend what is his; he is not afraid to get his hands dirty just to keep you pristine.

After all, who would suspect the perfect Slytherin prefect of doing such heinous things?

Hobby: writing/reading & scrolling on tiktok

Fav artist: don't have one

Fav song: anything by Lana del Rey

Fav movie: The Outsiders, The Notebook, Twilight, Lisa Frankenstein

Fav book: the ballad of songbirds & snakes

Fav character: daenerys targaryen

Fav color: dark red

Celeb crush: Henry Cavill

Last song you heard: Queen of Mean 😭

Get to know the blogger

Hobby: singing / writing

Fav artist: Bruno Mars

Fav song: Uptown Funk by Mark Ronson ft. Bruno

Fav movie: Roman Holiday / marvel (any)

Fav book: Harry Potter

Fav character: Bucky / Loki

Fav color: Dark red / emerald green

Celeb crush: Sebastian Stan / Tom Hiddleston

Last song you heard: Grenade by Bruno Mars

Tagging: @vbecker10 @gamoraaaaaa @vintagebishx @idiotlosingsanity @bookofspiders @wintrsoldrluvr @tomriddleslovergirl @flopugh8 @lotrefcp @starkeysprincess @lotrefcp + anyone else who wants to join <3 (no pressure tags ofc)

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO Episode 2

I could match his freak ngl

Otto Hightower raising his voice and straight up yelling in tonight’s episode is……doing things to me.

And that little laugh he let out before saying “Is that what you think?” UGH

mattheo listening to f!reader as she tries to stop him from beating up mclaggen for catcalling/staring at her

"love, he looked at you."

"i know matty, but it's fine. i don't want you to get into more fights..."

*not listening*

"but you're mine...and he looked at you. "

Describe yourself with four emojis. No words! Let’s go♡︎

😪🍕😰🤗

Daemon Targaryen's “Love language” Based off this tweet + Happy birthday Aunt Phasma @lady-phasma♡

𝕆𝕦𝕣 ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝

Summary: You try to escape from two fearsome Sith Lords. Surprisingly they take it rather well.

Author's note: This is totally getting a part 2. Or maybe a series we'll see. 

Warnings: dark, absolutely no regard for the rule of two, sorta a vent fic (venting that these two are so fine and I can't get them out of my mind), slightly fluffy.

The empire's warships have a tendency to blur reality. The interiors of their large hulking exoskeletons house endless corridors and makeshift chambers. Vast, endless arrays of space. They've been optimized for housing droids, clones, and artillery. Not for escape, not for an endless search of a freedom that has long since eroded. 

Calling yourself anything but desperate would be a lie. Your feet run to the chorus of your broken heartbeat. The need for freedom, the need to escape spreads through your body like a poison. You know it'll end up killing you, either from exhaustion or by their sabars. But you have to try, you have to run. Even if you've left fragments of yourself in the warm bed the three of you sleep on. Even if you forgot your heart under Anakin's pillow and your soul still lingers in Maul's warm embrace. Maybe freedom is worth cutting off pieces of yourself, if only in the hope that someday they might grow back. 

There's something wrong with the corridors you're sure of it. You've never been one for directions, instead relying on the holo screens and navigation systems to lead the way. Mirror images as far as the eye can see. Identical, plain. Nothing substantial to store in your memory. There's something ironic about this situation, a punchline that doesn't quite land. You half haphazardly tug on the skirt of your nightgown, desperate for anything familiar. You're not sure why.

You remember how Anakin called you pretty this morning, still hazy, still clinging to the sensation of slumber. Perfect blue eyes too dazed to look at you. Really look at you. The chosen one gazes at your ghost, your ethos. the perfect doll he and Maul had morphed you into. Behind you

 Maul pulls you to his chest. Hand running up and down her side, trying to resurrect you into his dreams. It's only when Anakin's eyes close, seeling the shimmering blue orbs, that you crawl out of bed and into the unknown. 

You're lost, abandoned in absolute desolation. The marble tiles bleed frost into the soles of your feet. Somewhere in the distance, you feel a disturbance in the force. Too far away to matter, yet leaking with a potent rage that burns. It's hope you think, albeit pathetically, maybe it's better to capitulate this pointless crusade and wait for the Sith lords to find you. The crash comes just as you're about to stop. You bump into him, falling in the process. All armor and steel. The Stormtrooper's mask is off giving you a clear view of his scarred face. His eyes flash, some dreary emotion too obscure to read, he offers you a gloved hand, something human something casual. 

You stare frozen. 

When exactly did you stop comprehending human idiosyncrasies? 

When exactly did you start reading every interaction as a threat? 

He's a monster, you think, just like the ones you've been warned about. Lectured time and time again by both Anakine and Maul. Monsters pry on little girls, especially ones who wander off on their own. Monsters lurk behind unsuspecting walls, ready to pounce when their prey approaches. You wonder if, the definitive definition of "monster" could be passed on to the two Siths who call themselves your lovers. 

There's blood, too crimson to be real. Metallic aromas wafted through the air. You've only now noticed how close the disturbance in the force really is. Close enough to distinguish itself. To reveal that, in actuality, it's not a disturbance at all.

 It's two...

Something cold yanks at your forearm. Pulling you to your feet. for a split second, your nerves calm. The familiarity of the cybernetic arm grants you a heavy ease. Anakin pushes you over to where Maul is standing. Golden eyes burning holes through the stormtrooper's armor. 'He didn't do anything' you long to say. But the words wisely die on your tongue as Maul grips your shoulders. Anakine's saber is lit, stabbing through the soldier's armor as if it were flesh. As if killing him where as easy as killing a rogue thought. "You're quite a foolish soldier for daring to touch that which belongs to your commanders. Even more imbecilic for so much as looking at emperor Palpatine's disciple." 

Maul's grip on your shoulders tightens, eyes never once leaving the bloodshed. One of his hands instinctively roams to your belly, then slides down to your thigh. Rubbing it ever so gently as his claws pierce your soft skin. You close your eyes trying to make yourself smaller. You hate how his touch grounds you. How the familiarity plucks at your heartstrings. When he touches you like this you wish you would forever rot in his arms.

"'I'm sorry" You don't know why the words come so easily. As if they've been itching to spill from your tongue. Maybe it's easier to say 'I'm sorry' rather than 'You've broken my perception of love, of reality and now I can only find comfort in your darkness.' "Hush" Maul's anger spills with every syllable. His claws dig deeper, earning him a pained hiss from his doll. 

"You're not sorry, in fact, you rather enjoyed this didn't you? Running away making us chase you down, I never thought your species would enjoy being the prey so much, little one." Anakin walks over, saber seethed at his side. His every step promised pain, retribution. He's angry, furious. They both are, you wonder if maybe, just maybe, they'll end it all today. 

Maul's chambers have always been a testament to Dathomir, bathed in deep scarlets and endless ebony. You wonder if he's homesick for a place he's only visited in his worst ephialtes. After the incident in the corridors, they drag you back to the Zabrak's room. Neither bothering to say a word. Merely permitting their rage to engulf you, subduing you into submission. It's an unwelcome surprise when they begin to prep for the day. Throwing on their black cloaks, prior to choosing your outfit. An abnormal affinity settles across the room. Too unnerving to go unchecked. 

They dress you each morning, a ritual you think, some attestation of love that's never been quite right. Maul drapes you in velvet dresses. Each one harbors a sui generis softness that sits erroneously across your skin. Their opulent sensation only brings forth feelings of aversion and despair. Their softness an ode to your imprisonment. 

the dresses come in shades of crimson, detailed sometimes in black, sometimes in gold, and sometimes in a frigid blue that sends shivers running up your spine. 

Anakin fusses over your accessories, why they feel the need to dress you so extravagantly daily is beyond you -as you've come to realize many things are- On days when Anakin's hubris reaches its apex, he bathes you in gold. Astonishing glittering collars across your neck and Kuat bangles hanging from your wrists. When he's sober from his pride he chooses black diamonds. Simple and exotic. scintillate and opaque.

Allusions to the dark side.

A hidden reference that crawls inside you. 

Once, back when you'd been sure defiance was still an option. Back when callow hope still dared to flow through your veins. Back when you'd been a jejune, stubborn thing. You had refused to wear one of the dresses they'd bought. Adimant in your refusal until Maul had stuck out his hand. Summoning the Force to remind you just who held the supreme authority here. 

The Force had strangled you, clawing hungrily at your neck. You felt your bones caving in on themselves, watched with exacerbating hysteria as your feet abandoned the floor. He'd only released you when he was sure you were near death's adorned door. Permitting you to molder on the floor akin to a ragdoll. 

Anakin had chastised you after you'd conjured enough strength to sit up, gasping greedily for air. He'd broken two fingers that day. One still harbors a small scar.

A Promise ring. 

An augury.

There are days, few and far between. When they've deemed you've been behaving adequately for long enough. That they permit you the choice of which dress you'd fancy wearing for the day. It's a rare event, reserved as a special treat. You think it's their way of proposing variety, giving you the illusion of choice. Making you feel a little less smothered. 

Today is not one of those days. Today, you feel them pick you apart, only to reassemble you in their image. Drowning you in extravagance. A reminder, one whose deprecating nature weaves itself within your muscles. You, little girl, are nothing more than a doll. And dolls should know their place.

No sooner do you feel the final lace fasten across your back, that Anakin is tugging you outside the door. Metal arm clasped around your forearm. 

Maul follows behind molten gaze locked on your face. The hallways bend to their will as if the walls themselves quiver with their presence. You recognize this corridor, recognize the frigid forlorn. 

There's something wrong with Emperor Palpatine's throne room. It's surreal, makeshift. His real throne lays somewhere cold, somewhere even his apprentices don't dare wander off to. The ironclad throne has never felt right. Never felt like it held any real power. Just terror, just dread, just hatred. But here it is in all its glory. Left to two apprentices who'd rather treat it as a toy than a sacred place.

 Anakin dramatically throws himself onto the throne. One leg thrown over the armrest as he leans against the other. His other leg planted firmly on the ground. He keeps you steady on his thigh. Torturing you with his distant, disappointed look. Maul stands in front of you. His eyes liquid gold melting into you. You see the galaxy in them. Hear it whispearing secrets meant to be forgotten. It's Anakin's voice that rattles you from your disjointed thoughts. 

"You caused us so much worry angel" he's being nice. You don't trust that. There's something sinister plaguing his words.  

"You know Ani, she may cease escaping if you'd cease to spoil her." Maul leans down, gripping your chin and squeezing. " The brat forgets her place, merely cause you'd rather coddle her than discipline her." 

Anakin glares, a shift in his eyes, blue bleeding into gold. "Hmm, Maul, you're starting to sound an awful lot like Kenobi right now."

"Why's that? Did the old fool tend to also point out your shortcomings?" 

You wonder who this Kenobi is, as you watch the Siths' exchange crude childish vitriols. Maybe he'd make a better lover than the two men you have the misfortune of being adhered to. 

They never could truly see just how similar they were.

Two sides of the same coin. 

One born of copper, the other, black rose petals.

Subconsciously you reach out. Grasping Anakin's robotic hand, fiddling with the panel, peeling it away to gain access to the wires and circuits. You have a bad habit of ripping things open. Anakin learned this the first time he kissed you and you tried to gnaw at his chest with your nails. Not in malice, but rather to satisfy a ravenous curiosity. A raging need to open him and see just how he ticked. You'd wished to perform an autopsy on his soul. Rip him open and devour all his secrets. Back then you'd wondered if you could kiss sunrises into Anakin's eternal night. Strip him of bleak blackened skies and introduce him to stars and a moon that shines. He'd only vaguely permitted it. Opting to pluck the stars lying within you. Swiping them for steel and lava and other mundane things that fueled his incessant rage. 

Anakin's head dips, lips pressing on your jugular vein. "You're ethereal" Anakin mubbles against your skin, like the dying prayer of a collapsing star. He's so pretty when he kisses your neck. Biting away pieces of you. Stealing your light for himself. 

"Princess" Maul seethes venom pelting from his words. You realize you'd been ignoring him. Something he's not too fond of. "What in the stars was going through your pretty little head?" 

 he looks like he'd love nothing more than to wring your pretty little neck right now. "I just..." your words feel heavy. Tiny bullets polluting your tongue. It feels so cruel to say when you know just how much they love you. "I just wanted some freedom. Just a bit of space." 

"Dumb little angel" Anakin chastes. You lower your head in embarrassment watching Maul kneel in front of you. He cups your cheeks, placing a soft kiss on your head. "You can never escape us beloved".

 "I love you," says Anakin. All you hear is, I'll haunt you, I'll break your ribs one by one so that I may possess your heart. Maybe they mean the same thing. 

"And I'm pretty sure if Maul could feel normal emotions like everyone else, then he'd love you too." You can't help but let out a giggle as Anakin throws his head back laughing. A rare melodious sound, that causes your heart to skip a beat. Maul merely rolls his eyes before pecking you on the lips.

You trace your fingers across Maul's chest, feeling the pummelling of two hearts. A double heartbeat. Two melodies entwined, You wonder who he harbors in those hearts. One for love and one for family. You nip at his bottom lip. Ushering the blood into your mouth. He tastes of Ichor and smoke. Of sadness and rage. From behind you feel Akanin bite into the hollow of your flesh. Leaving traces of himself upon your skin. 

"Our pretty little problem" Anakin mumbles. 

You're a problem, a vexation draped in velvet, an unsolvable equation. Trapped between a love that seethes through your body like a toxin. Engulfing you until your mind relents. Maybe it's easier this way. Easier to say 'I love you' without the double entendre. 

You do love them.

A rather arduous conclusion to reach.

Maul and Anakin.

Palpatine's apprentices. 

Your lovers

Yeah, that sounds about right...

💜💜: @athanasia-day @hotpinkboots @jenn-patterson-69 @nickiiiixoxo-blog @the-chains-are-the-easy-part

I honestly feel like all Sith lords would love it when their darling kisses their mask. Regardless of all the horrors said mask carries it's still a sign of power, of respect, of the darkness they've come to embrace. I feel like kissing it would be the equivalent of kissing a king's ring. All submission and loyalty. A pledge of love, a pledge of devotion. You belong to him utterly, wholly. Maybe it's more than that, maybe it's not only about the regonization of power. But the acceptance of the power they hold over you. A testament to how they've infected your mind. Morphed and molded you into their perfect little doll. I just know they get high off the power they hold over you. A light mindless kiss to the cold steel hiding away their visage is all the proof they need to how perfectly they've broken you...

Just looked at a blog where the header description said 'sometimes I reblog posts I like so I don't forget them'.

And I feel like that, right there, explains so much about how the site has changed in the last few months.

People now think reblogging is an unusual behaviour, rather than a default.

Tumblr newbies, please, for the love of baby Jesus, reblog the posts you like. That is the whole reason the site exists - for you to collect all your shiny fandom objects in a single space. Which you can organize to your heart's content. Or not organize at all, if that's your jam.

Our blogs are intended to be collections of posts, not collections of likes.

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

"A Son for a Son" 02.01

The Cannibal Prince

Pairing: Vampire!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Includes: nipple play, kissing, non-consensual vampire turning (Including a kiss), biting, side character death

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: You marry Prince Aemond, and he reveals another Targaryen wedding tradition that many aren't privy to.

It was fortunately windy at Dragonstone — a delightful contrast to that of King’s Landing.

You wore one of your Dornish gowns, showing off quite a bit of your skin. You hadn’t really gotten into the fashion at King’s Landing. It was so terribly hot there and your gowns from back home gave you a delightful reprieve.

You stood outside. You had first come out to watch the waves lick at the big rocks, but your thoughts soon drifted off to Aemond Targaryen — Your betrothed.

You had brief interactions with the man. Once, when you first arrived at King’s Landing. You had eaten dinner with Prince Aemond, along with the rest of his family. It had been a tense first meeting for you. Queen Alicent was the one carrying the conversation, with Otto asking questions about Dorne here and there.

Though you were not Dornish royalty like the Martell’s, your house is a great one.

You had noticed Queen Alicent lowering her gaze to your dress a few times over dinner before looking back at you with a fake smile. You think she didn’t like your dress.

Aegon, though, scared you. He would not take his eyes off of you during the feast and would speak of how you were too pretty for his cripple brother. You noticed that Prince Aemond had tensed at that, his fingers tightening around his cutlery. You hadn’t spoken out in defense of Aemond — just gave Aegon a faux smile, hoping he didn’t notice how uncomfortable you were. You think he did.

You had heard rumors about the Targaryens. Of how their serving girls were disappearing at an alarming rate, about Prince Aegon’s sexual debauchery, that your betrothed was not missing an eye at all, and that when he had his eye cut out, it had come back! That you did not believe, it simply wasn’t possible.

You shivered from the cold Dragonstone air, and like he knew you were thinking of him, a voice spoke out from behind you. “Cold, My Lady?”

You turned around, your golden dress moving with you. There stood Aemond Targaryen, a few feet away from you. His hands were clasped behind his back and his long white hair looked slightly unkempt because of the winds.

You bowed, before looking back up at him. “Nothing I can’t handle, My Prince.”

You were proven wrong as the wind beat at you, forcing you to squint.

Aemond wrinkled his nose, like he had smelt something he didn’t like before getting his expression under control and clenching his jaw.

“It is getting quite late, betrothed. Would you allow me the honor of walking you back to your chambers?” Aemond asked.

Your eyes widen slightly at the request, but you nod anyway. “Of course, My Prince.”

You both walked back into the Castle, a quiet overtaking you both. You had hoped Aemond would have offered you his arm, but he hadn’t, and this was the longest time you two had spent together, so you contented yourself with that.

Your eyes gazed at all the dragon furniture and you were reminded of Princess Rhaenyra.

You had been surprised when you found out that you’d be marrying Aemond here, as you had heard that Rhaenyra had left for Dragonstone because she couldn’t stand the Hightowers and their children anymore. Perhaps she had a change of mind.

You and Aemond reached your chamber door. There were dragons carved into the wood, their long, lithe bodies stretched out on it.

You opened the door and stepped in, turning to look at Aemond. “Would you like to come in, My Prince?” It was a courtesy, of course. If you and your betrothed were both caught alone together, it would be quite the scandal.

Aemond looked at you, scrutinizing your body as his eyes traveled down the length of your body. He stared at the exposed area of your neck before forcing himself to look back at you, his jaw ticking.

“Perhaps after our marriage ceremony.” With that, Aemond gave a curt bow, mumbling “My Lady,” before turning around and leaving — presumably to his own chambers.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and shut the door. You hadn’t expected Aemond to say such a thing — maybe his brother, but not him!

Your handmaidens helped you get dressed for bed and you couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth in your stomach.

As you lay in bed, listening to the sound of the sea — you had insisted to keep the shutters of the window nearest your bed open and one of your handmaidens reluctantly did so, lecturing you about how it would be a terrible thing if you got sick the night before your wedding — your thoughts drifted back to Aemond. You wish he had come into your chambers.

The next morning, you had awoken to terrible news. One of your handmaidens — Aimya — was dead. Her corpse was found in one of the halls. Your handmaidens said that Otto Hightower claimed that given the girl’s pale skin, she must have picked up a sickness. They weren’t allowed to see the body and had no confirmation that this was true.

You had hoped the marriage ceremony would be canceled because of this, but of course, nobody cared for the death of a random dornish girl. Nobody except for you and the other handmaidens.

Over the years, you had all become very close to each other, and her death was like a ship wrecking when it was close to land. The night before your wedding! If you didn’t know any better, you would have taken her death as a warning.

Your handmaiden — Brise, a woman a few years older than you with a sharp face — leads you to your vanity and has you strip out of your nightgown. Your other handmaiden — Miana, a young girl with rosy cheeks — untangling your hair with a shaky hand as you sat atop your vanity stool, naked and shivering.

Brise shut the window before grabbing your wedding robes. After Miana was done, you stood up, facing the older woman. She held the traditional Targaryen wedding robes.

How disappointing. You had always thought your wedding would be an extravagant thing, but it seems not.

“Aimya seemed fine. I-I didn’t think…” Miana broke out into a sob.

Brise shook her head as she helped you into your clothing. “I don’t trust these Targaryens,” she said the name with such disdain that you couldn’t help but look at her surprised.

“That is my betrothed’s family you are speaking about,” you say as Brise finishes tying the front of the robe.

Miana grabbed the headpiece, but was shaking so much that Brise grabbed it out of the young girl's hands and placed it atop your head instead.

“My apologies, My Lady.” But you knew Brise, and you knew she wasn’t sorry at all. You decide not to dwell on it and begin your trip out of the castle.

You stand face to face with Aemond, your expression one of pain as he cuts into your palm. You bite into your covered bottom lip to silence any sound of pain that would try to leave you.

Aemond’s own hand is bloody, as you had cut into it first and you can feel it on your palm as you press it against his. The blood doesn’t do much to hide the lack of warmth in his body, but you brush it off to it just being a reaction to the cold of the Island that is Dragonstone.

An older man wraps a cloth around your hands and you watch as your blood — now mixed with Aemond’s — drips into the cup. You hear the man say some words in Valyrian, but you don’t understand any of it.

Soon, you are drinking out of the chalice. You take a small sip, the heavy taste of copper now on your tongue. You hand it over to Aemond, and he holds your gaze as he drinks the rest of your shared blood.

Then, you both kiss. It’s a quick thing, and you are aware of the eyes of Aemond’s family watching you.

Hours later, you are in Aemond’s chambers. You suppose you’ll be returning to King's Landing very soon.

You sit on the edge of his bed, anxiously fiddling with your fingers as Aemond walks over to you.

Gently, he takes off your headpiece and places it on the side table. Using one cold finger, Aemond places it under your chin, forcing you to look into his purple eye.

You’re captivated. You are sure you will never in your lifetime see anyone that looks like Aemond. Sure, they others have purple eyes, and white hair. But Aemond is unique, with his sharp features, and one eye.

“There is no need to be nervous,” Aemond reassured you. His fingers trail down your neck, to your pulse, gently pressing them there. “Wife.”

You watch as Aemond takes in a sharp breath at the feeling of you, and he quickly pulls his hand away.

Your husband sits down on the bed next to you.

“We need not do this tonight if you don’t wish for it,” he says, surprising you.

You shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you speak, “No.. I want to, Husband.”

Aemond lets out a harsh breath out of his nose and nods. “Very well.”

Gently, Aemond reached out, cupping your cheek and forcing you to look at him. He presses his lips to yours, and for some reason he still tastes of copper.

His hands find their way to the ties of your robe and undo them. He pulls away from your lips and pushes down your clothing, leaving it on the floor.

Aemond looks down at you, and you feel your nipples harden very quickly.

Gently, Aemond pushes you down on the bed, so that you are laying with your back flat against it, your head resting on one of the soft pillows.

He rests one of his hands on your hips, and the other — the scarred one — trails down to your breasts. Aemond presses his palm atop the left side of your chest, almost like he’s trying to feel your heartbeat. When he’s satisfied, Aemond brings his fingers to your nipples. He tugs on your nub and you let out a soft gasp.

His attention is instantly brought back to your mouth and he presses his lips to yours. It’s very different from your first kiss when you were getting married. This one is rough, like he’s trying to consume you.

His fingers dig into your breast — so much so that it’s starting to hurt. You let out a small mewl, and Aemond instantly lets go of your lips and breast.

Slowly, Aemond kisses down your chest, and stomach, until he is at your hips.

Aemond undos the ties of his own robes, and drops the garment onto the floor.

He spreads your legs and presses a small kiss to your inner thigh, “So pretty.”

You let out a small, pleased, sigh. “Husband..”

Aemond brings his lips back to your thighs, and brushes his lips against them. Using his cold hands, Aemond holds onto your hips, pressing them down to the mattress. You shiver at his touch, and when he licks at your thigh, you feel small tingles spread through your body.

Your eyes flutter shut, and that’s when you feel it. Something sharp presses into you and your eyes shoot open. You wriggle in Aemond’s grip, but feel his pale hands pin you down. All you can see is the white of his head as you look down at him.

You let out a small cry, confused. “A-Aemond.. What are you…!”

Aemond’s lips finally release the hold they had on your thigh, and when he looks up at you, your eyes land on his bloody mouth.

Before you can even do anything, Aemond lets go of your hips and instead crawls over you, his lithe frame atop of you. Using one hand, Aemond grabs ahold of your wrists and pins them over your head. His other hand grabs your jaw and pushes it to the side, revealing your neck.

Aemond presses his nose to your neck, taking in your scent. His eyes flutter shut and you hiss in pain as he bites into your flesh.

Your legs kick at Aemond, but it doesn’t deter him.

Soon enough, you run out of energy and cease your struggling. You quiver under Aemond, and tears run down your cheeks.

Just when you’re on the brink of death, Aemond pulls away, pressing a wet kiss to the area he just bit.

Aemond lets go of your wrists, but still holds onto your jaw, though his grip has loosened.

Your eyes flutter open, your vision blurry.

Aemond bites into his own wrist, sucking up a considerable amount of blood, before pulling away.

Aemond presses his lips to yours, and forces you to drink in the mix of your’s and Aemond’s blood. Some blood escapes you and Aemond’s mouth and trickles down your cheeks.

Aemond pulls away after what feels like an eternity. You take in big gulps of air, your lungs burning.

A warmth runs through your body before being replaced with a coldness. It feels like you're freezing. Aemond kisses at your tears before pressing his lips to your bloody cheeks. He coos against them, feeling their warmth turn cool, “I know this is now what you were expecting, wife, but that was not the end. Perhaps…” he trails off.  Aemond pulls away, letting go of your wrists. His eye looks down at your naked body, and despite it all, you feel a heat spreading through you. “After our marriage ceremony.”

a/n: Wrote this in celebration for season 2 of hotd, though this was written a few days before it came out! divider creds: @saradika

House of the Dragon Incorrect Quotes

You: Are we fighting or flirting? Aemond: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck- You: Your point?

You: I feel like doing something stupid. Aegon: I’m stupid, do me.

You: Crushes are the worst. Whenever I’m near mine, I start acting stupid. Aemond: You always act stupid. Aemond: Aemond: Wait...

Alicent: Did you wash the dishes? Aegon: I thought you wanted to do that... Alicent: *chuckles* You were WRONG.

Aemond: People tell me I have a unique way of lighting up a room. You: It’s called arson and those people are called witnesses.

You: Are you ever going to listen to me? Daemon: Yes. Absolutely. You: When? Daemon: When you're right.

Aegon: We have a problem. Aemond: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

You: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you... Daemon: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, and no take backs, honey.

Aegon: I committed all 7 deadly sins in 30 minutes. You: Wow, I've gotta hear this. Aegon: I was angry and envious of my neighbor so I lazily seduced his wife and ate all his groceries and didn't share. You: You forgot pride. Aegon: No, I'm pretty proud of this.

Aegon: What do you call people you go out with but don’t try to sleep with? You: ...People?

Daemon: This is bothering me. You: Well, you are digging up a corpse. Daemon: No, not that. That's, uh, pretty par for the course, actually.

I wanna overpower myself in my drs but I also wanna be a damsel in distress and IDK😭😭