If your whole personality is being gay to the point of not being able to engage with stories about women and only scanning media for the most yaoiable white boys you are the problem.
If some of you spent half as much time understanding intersectionality as you did talking about your white man of the month we wouldn't be losing all of our trans women
Note - this is for you @milkysea-02 for inspiring and encouraging me to write this. Also FEMALE Reader. Thought since I did a hotd and one for targaryens, its only fair I do this au with them too
Baelor Breakspear + Sharing your soulmate's emotions
Soulmates were a favorite subject among poets and bards. Tales sung so often the prince couldn't escape the word even if he tried. It was an endearing concept but Baelor knew how things worked in Westeros. Soulmates meeting were a rarity and even rarer if they fell in love. Yet the prince could feel you, so strongly in fact. To many it’s a curse, but the prince found it comforting.
He adored the moments he could feel your joy. Wondering what brought you such happiness. When anger or sadness tugged at his chest, he would frown wishing he could be there to offer comfort and ask what troubles you. Yes, meeting your soulmate was almost impossible, yet Baelor often thought of you; what you might be like. As he fiddles with his rings, nervous. He wonders if you feel it too. If you too ever ponder on what's bothering him. And when one day he finally meets you. Your father eagerly greets him, introducing you and your sister. It was painfully clear your father wished for Baelor to wed your sister.
And Baelor being the good man he is, indulges the man despite him promising no intention. Yet for some reason Baelor felt something pulling him towards you. He can tell you are nervous... because he can feel it. The prince tries not to jump to conclusions, but every glance, every conversation confirms his growing suspicion. And when he finally had a moment alone with you, he reached for your hand. Feeling every ounce of your emotion. And Baelor knew. He found his soulmate; his other half. No one would ever forget the look on your father's face when Baelor announces he will indeed wed his daughter. Just not the one he planned.
Maekar Targaryen + Meeting your soulmate after the worst event in your life
Maekar didn’t believe in this soulmate nonsense. It's just tales told to children so they have them hope for nothing. Maekar didn’t even believe in it. What were the chances that among thousands of people there was only one meant for you? Especially when he had already loved. His marriage to Dyana was happy, the many years spent together. She had bore him children he loves dearly. For what reason did a man like him need for a soulmate? Then tragedy struck. Where once Maekar was a devoted husband, he has become a widower. He did not weep. He did not beg or pray for the gods. He just stood there, unmoving and silent.
People offered sympathetic glances, kind words, a hand placed on his shoulder. It did nothing. For his wife was dead. She is gone where he shall never see her again, left with children who have no one else to seek but him. “My prince,” the voice called to him when he thought he was finally alone in the hall. It was you. He didn’t remember you for a second before it clicked. You were one of Dyanna’s ladies in waiting. Dressed in black with a seldom expression on your face as you offer your condolences. Maekar barely hears your words, wanting nothing more than to be left alone.
Then you touched his arm. A small gesture. Nothing more. An offer of comfort. It would have earned you a scolding had anyone else seen it. But Maekar merely froze. Staring at you with wide eyes feeling a pull within his chest. Something that is deeper than his grief. For a moment, you looked radiant, almost alluring. An urge almost overtaking him to just pull you in his arms. It couldn’t be. It fucking can’t be. The prince harshly tore his arm away from your touch, storming away. Leaving you staring at his back in confusion and dread as his footsteps echo through the hall.
Lyonel Baratheon + Soulmate marks are only visible after touching
The laughing storm never thought much of soulmates as many men in his time. He laughed at the idea often enough. Jesting his soulmate might be somewhere in the Essos cities dreaming of his touch. Until he came upon you. You weren't even meant to be in his tent. Your house was a minor one not like the Beesbury or the Fossoway; small enough to remain humble. Yet you defied your father and slipped into the tent. Music played, people laughed and drank, and there was Lyonel Baratheon dancing among them, his laugh filling the tent.
Eventually you joined the dancing, enjoying yourself. Till you were paired for a moment with Lyonel, your hands touching. And there it was, both of you hissing in pain. A line forming across your skin; itching and burning on the surface. Lyonel too gripped his wrist, staring in disbelief where the same mark appeared on his skin. Around you the party continues, blind to what’s happening right in front of them. Swallowing nervously, fearing what he might say or do and also fearing your father’s fury - you try to slip away. But Lyonel caught your wrist, pulling you to him. “Stay, you’ve only just arrived haven’t you?”
You had no choice as he led you to his table, his grip still around your wrist. He nudges you to take the chair next to him. His men stared in confusion while Lyonel pays them no mind, filling your cup with wine and taking a sip before passing it to you. You sip too, trying to ignore your lips are where his lips once were, all while his eyes are on you, an amused smile on his face. “So soulmate, can I at least have your name?” Gasps are heard from the men around you. And you can only think of how to explain this mess of a situation to your father.
Valarr Targaryen + Soulmates having their names on each other's wrists
Your parents held their breath the day you showed them your wrist and they saw the name. Valarr Targaryen. Of all the possible soulmates, yours had to be the prince. The heir to the iron throne right after his father. Your family was from a minor house. Approaching the royal family, offering them your hand with nothing but the only reasoning of being the prince’s soulmate would be laughable at best, insulting at worst. So you were instructed to keep it hidden. Always.
People will talk and if Valarr perhaps weds someone else, his wife may take offense to the words being said and your family simply couldn’t afford such a scandal. It was why with the tourney coming up, your father refused to take you at first. But you pleaded for days on end until he finally relented, making you promise that you would draw no attention to yourself. You fully intended to keep to your word. Till you accidently collided with the prince at the gathering before the tourney. Valarr instinctively grabbed you before you fell.
He asked if you were alright. But words were stuck in your throat, heart racing at the sight of him. It couldn’t be, it shouldn’t be. Your friend behind you who witnessed it all, calls your name asking if you are alright too. Watching as realization washes over Valarr’s face. He repeats your name back to you and you shake your head. “You have the wrong person, my pri-” “Show me your wrist.” It wasn’t a request. With shaking hands you allow him the honor to lift your sleeve, inhaling his breath when he sees his name on your skin. Valarr made you return back to your family, praying the matter was finished. So why was Valarr approaching his father, whispering something to his ear? And why has the heir of the throne now approaching your father directly?
Raymun Fossoway + Red string around your pinky is attached to your soulmate's pinky
Soulmates were a comforting thought to Raymun despite everyone else belittling him for it. He often wondered what you might be like. Were you beautiful? Were you out there thinking of him too? After all, you shared a piece of each other’s soul. It was said being far from your soulmate ached and losing them is described as the same pain one would feel if they took a spear to the chest. Sometimes when he was bored or upset, Raymun tugs the string gently just to gouge a reaction, his way of saying hello.
And every time he felt the sting being tugged back, he smiled. Sometimes he even did it at night when he couldn’t sleep, feeling a bit guilty if he woke you up. His cousin mocked him whenever he caught him staring at his pinky playing with the string invisible to the eye. It was one day in his cousin's tent, he was speaking with another squire. Then he felt a sharp tug on the string. It was stronger than usual, almost moving his hand forward. The realization struck him. Were you possibly close?
Without thinking, Raymun excused himself and stepped outside of the tent, ignoring the squire's concerns in the process. Raymun follows the invisible pull until it led him straight to you. He paused for a moment. Even from afar, you looked absolutely beautiful. Were you a servant, a traveler, a lady? Raymun truthfylly didn’t care as he approaches you, clearing his throat to catch your attention. “You’re my soulmate,” he blurted a little too loudly. People close to you both turned to stare. Raymun mumbled an apology before asking if he could speak with you alone.
Aerion Targaryen + Timer for when you shall meet your soulmate
Like his father, Aerion dismissed the idea of soulmates as foolish nonsense. Rolling his eyes whenever his sisters would dreamingly talk of meeting theirs. Content to never find his. He was a dragon, he had no need for such bonds. He hated that timer on his wrist. Felt like it was mocking him, making him feel that lack of control; that he couldn't escape it. Aerion ignored it for years, covering the timer with sleeves long enough so his eyes wouldn’t accidently peek.
But one day, while preparing for a feast, he noticed it. Only a few hours? Aerion frowns, squinting to make sure he is seeing it right. He dismisses it; it's just ridiculous. Until during the feast, sitting next to his father. He curiously glanced down again and saw only one minute lift. What stupidity, what mad- but his thoughts are cut short. There you were, approaching his table. Nudged by your mother to greet your hosts. Politely introducing yourself, curtsying even complimenting the prince.
And Aerion. He was staring. Couldn’t tear his eyes off you. Till his father called his name in confusion before Aerion realized he had been silent far too long. “Yes- yes, that’s kind of you,” he mutters before watching you return to your family once more. Then he notices you glancing down at your own wrist, frowning. And feeling a pair of eyes on you - you look up to see the prince already staring intensely. Was it lust? confusion? Hatred? As he watches you piece it all together.
Daeron Targaryen + Meeting your soulmate in your dreams
Ever since he was a boy Daeron had been haunted by his dreams. Only becoming harder and harder to cope with over the years. The sweet taste of wine helped at first. Before he started drinking more and more he ought to forget just for a moment. But in the middle of it all, there was you. The only thing he found calming. At first he assumed you were part of his visions. Till he realized you reacted to him, understood his words and spoke back to him. When he touched you. You felt real.
You didn’t appear as often as he wanted. Other times his head was filled with prophecies he couldn’t decipher; dragons, fire, death. Whenever you would show, relief washed over him. Daeron cherished those few moments he had. Begging you not to leave when he felt you slipping away, back to the conscious world yet again. Waking up with your name on his lips. And when he finally saw you in the flesh. Daeron was almost trembling. Gods, you were just as beautiful as you were in his dreams.
He wanted to take you in his arms right there and then. But too many eyes were watching, his father among them. When he finally had a moment alone, in a dark hall with no one in sight. Daeron pulled you close burying his face in your neck. “You’re here,” he whispers shakingly, “Gods, you’re here”. Sighing in relief, breathing your scent, letting his lips touch the skin of your nape. Daeron doesn’t care if your family came to summerhall for a mere visit. He doesn’t care what his father might say. He finally had you here, in his arms. He can’t afford to go back to the days where he just had you in dreamless nights.
Duncan The Tall + Time slows down when you meet your soulmate
Dunk had always been told soulmates were frivolous nonsense. Ser Arlan has said it more than once when the topic came up in passing. So Dunk moved through his days never giving it much thought. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe soulmates existed. He just assumed it wasn't meant for a hedge knight like him. Not until the chain of events. Trying to enlist in the tourney, meeting a little boy who goes by egg, speaking with prince Baelor himself.
As Dunk stood in the hall, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. “Ser,” he heard you address him, not realizing he was in your way. When Dunk turns to look at you. It happened. The world was slowing down, figuratively and literally. Dunk blinked a few times. Has he gone mad? Every sound was stretched out, every breath louder than it should be. Both of you lock eyes with one another, confusion shared. A second passes and everything snaps back to normal. Still, you and Dunk remain transfixed on one another, realization dawning your faces.
And then your name is called from a knight down the hall, informing you your father has been waiting. You nod and move past dunk who steps aside. As you walk down the hall, you glance back for just a second only to see him still staring at you in an almost daze. Dunk cursed silently to himself. Clearly you were a lady, a woman of a higher birth and status. He should leave it be. Yet somehow Dunk found himself watching you again later from across the tourney stands, Egg on his shoulder. And you notice him, trying so hard not to look back for long.
