#alice may be right in her own way
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Does the Magnusverse have a world soul?
Disclaimer: This post is pure rambling and esoteric concepts and has little to do with anything concrete in the show.
After I found an obvious link to the collective unconscious in this post, I started to wonder about its wider implications for TMAGP universe. Some alchemists and secret societies (such as the Rosicrucians) have a concept of a world soul (anima mundi), a higher state of being, the One Mind or Monad. This is a state of perfect unity that exists beyond our physical reality, the origin point of our world. It's usually symbolized as a circle with a dot or a smaller circle in the middle of it (which are similar to the alchemical symbols for sun and the Philosopher's Stone). It's closely related to aether or quintessence, and aligning with it is the goal of spiritual alchemy. It also aligns with the Jungian idea of collective unconscious and Platonic idealism, as it contains every concept, spirit and soul, detached from their physical reality. I even found some texts implying that some Rosicrucian orders considered it their ultimate goal to unite humanity with it:
On one level this can be seen as the Fraternity’s Greatest Work of alchemy, to obtain the Philosopher’s Stone (which is a metaphor for spiritual attainment) with which the “General Transformation of the Whole World” may be accomplished. [Source: The website of S.R.I.A]
Incidentally, this is what I postulated to be the final goal or Magnum Opus of the Magnus Institute. It's starting to feel more and more likely now. In this universe, the Institute is basically an alchemical fraternity. Full-Fear Alchemist: Brotherhood.
In the season 1 finale QnA, Alex talked about sending Jonny a video on fifth dimensional vectors as a part of his initiation, for lack of a better word. This is the fifth dimension. We have the usual three dimensions, then the fourth dimension of time, and then the fifth dimension of endless possibility, which holds within it everything. Every universe, all sets of physical laws, all realities, all archetypes, everything. And sometimes it bleeds through to our specific reality. Like a canvas of quantum particles that sometimes get tangled and travel to the same direction (across universe lines, like the Magnus Institute being built everywhere), until a conscious observer collapses them into distinct realities.
How does this track with my Prima Tria theory?
Some alchemists seemed to think that Mercury is how the Monad manifests in reality. In other words, we have the possibility or representation of something in the Monad, and then we have an echo of it in the physical reality, manifested as Mercury. It sort of works as an intermediary or a liminal agent between purely ideal and purely physical. I have come to view it as a kind of solution that dissolves into itself both the archetypal ideals and humanity's own perceptions. I also still consider it to be the principle that dissolves boundaries and reality itself. If the Unity or Monad contains all the different realities (including the TMA one and whichever one Sam's in), then the Mercury that's abundant at the Hilltop Centre is dissolving a hole into the fabric of reality, like a slowly working acid. The important distinction would be that Mercury doesn't only "cause things to go weird", but it allows for people's fears, thoughts, ideas and attitudes to manifest. It's like a mirror that reflects what people are expecting or fearing the most.
It's a bit more difficult to slot this in with Salt and Sulphur. Salt is the physicality and stability, so theoretically it should be able to slow down the dissolution. And yet we have cases where concrete buildings (arguably the embodiment of stability) become liminal spaces. There are other interesting cases where people who are metaphorically locked in place interact with what I consider Mercury (like the guy trapped in a Zoom call or the old married couple being trapped in a flooding lock museum), but I might get into those later after I've got my head straight. Then again, we do get a Hilltop custodian (who embodies being stuck in one place and metaphorically becoming part of the place itself) keeping the mercurial fluctuations in check. Until he becomes a not-so-metaphorical part of the Hilltop Centre.
I feel like I'm still missing an important piece of the puzzle. I'll keep mulling it over and filling my head with tons of unnecessary research into alchemy until my computer finally eats me too.
#written after tmagp36#ramblings#a touch of existential crisis#alice may be right in her own way#the magnus protocol#tmagp#tmagp spoilers#tria prima theory#tmagp theory#tmagp mercury#tmagp salt
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i dont trust people who think Usagi is boring like just say you dont understand her and move along. bye now!!!
#shes either a buddhist or a goth in her regards to life death and survival#she helps others bc others refused to help her#life treated her so poorly but she refused to let that change her perception#rven after her father's death she refused to take out her anger on others#(despite having the right to feel that way based on her own experiences)#((her dad killed himself bc of how horrible other people were to him))#she actively chooses good bc she wants to be that light for others who may have been in her shoes#say “manga Usagi wasnt as active” all you want but just know youre wrong#just bc she wasnt always physically active doesnt mean she wasnt actively doing other things#(like taking care of Arisu as a coping mechanism)#she chooses love light and life ALWAYS bc she knows part of life is to suffer. thats kinda the whole point#but being that good in a sea of darkness is what makes living worthwhile#the only rzn that wasnt the message right off the bat was bc it takes place from Arisu's POV not Usagi's#anyways I LOVE USAGI YUZUHA!!!!!#alice in borderland#ima wa no kuni no alice#usagi yuzuha#yuzuha usagi
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i wanna be yours
in which gwayne hightower is entranced by his sister’s best friend
PAIRING: gwayne hightower x fem!reader, alicent hightower x PLATONIC!reader, rhaenyra targaryen x PLATONIC!reader
WARNINGS: fluff, young love, obliviousness, denial, delusion, slight angst, FLUFF ENDING
WORD COUNT: 6.4k
🎶 : i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys
AN: sorry for how long this is!!
“Come along, Y/N!” Rhaenyra yelled. “The flowers will still be there when we return.”
“Very well, Your Highness.” She sighed, hooking her arm through the princesses. “They only bloom once a year. I am simply taking in their beauty before they wilt.”
“I understand. Unfortunately for you, I now need a chaperone to walk my own halls, as every lord in the land vies for my hand.”
“Oh, poor poor Rhaenyra.” Y/N teased. “I can only imagine.”
“Rhaenyra, Y/N!” The girls turned around, Alicent running toward them with a young man in tow.
Y/N leaned over, whispering in Rhaenyra’s ear. “It seems even your own friends are playing matchmaker.”
Rhaenyra laughed, coughing to cover it up. Alicent looked suspiciously at Y/N. “What have you done?”
“Nothing, Alicent, nothing at all.”
“Oh, never mind.” She pulled the man forward. “May I introduce my brother, Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown. He’s just arrived for the tourney.”
Alicent’s brother was handsome: tall, with auburn hair and deep blue eyes. One could tell from a single glance he and Alicent were related. Freckles adorned his face, and Y/N could only assume it was from his ample time outdoors. She curtsied quickly, staring at the ground.
Rhaenyra smiled politely. “Ser Hightower.”
Gwayne bowed, kissing Rhaenyra’s hand. “Princess.”
Protocol regarding courting was odd and often confusing. With different social statuses came different rules. The Princess was the highest ranking of the two girls before him; thus, he would kiss Rhaenyra’s hand last. It was an honest mistake, a lapse in judgment, Y/N was sure. Odd, she’d thought to herself, she assumed that Gwayne was taught these sorts of things.
Her eyes drifted back to his, holding back a gasp as he extended his hand to her, after Rhaenyra. She placed hers in his palm hesitantly. He bowed once more, his hold gentle, like he was scared to break her. His lips were soft, and her cheeks turned bright red from the touch, eyes wide with shock.
She realized, amid her thinking, that Alicent and Rhaenyra had been taunting her, much too entertained by this simple encounter. Y/N ripped her hand away; any passerby would have thought it was on fire.
“My lady.”
She’d almost frowned. “I am no lady, Ser.” Entertaining the thought of him would only come back to haunt her, she told herself. The entire point of the tourney was to field potential suitors for the Princess, none were here for the ward of the crown, an orphaned bastard in her own right. He was attractive, there was no denying it. The way his eyes twinkled, or the way his hair fell over his eyes, or when his smile-
“Oh?” The young man frowned, his voice snapping her back to life. Her cheeks were still flushed. This avoiding business would prove to be harder than she previously thought. “My mistake. You are the very picture of a lady, I must say.”
Their spectators gasped. Y/N scoffed. “Do not think you can mock me, Ser.” She tightened her hold on Rhaenyra’s arm. “If you will excuse us…”
Not bothering to wait for a response, she turned around, dragging the princess along with her. Rhaenyra whispered, nudging her friend. “I believe he was smitten.”
Y/N shook her head. “And I believe it was all a game, most likely a way to make you jealous.” Her heart clenched at the thought. “Just a game.”
Rhaenyra’s room was a disaster, but when had it not been?
For as long as either of the Princess’s companions could remember, her suite had been covered with gowns and riding suits thrown haphazardly on the floor.
Not that either of the other girls cared, they were happy to lay on the Princess’s plush cushions, taking in the sun as it filled the room. Y/N’s head hung off the sofa, laughing as her friend ran through her closet. “If it were any larger, you would get lost inside.”
Rhaenyra stuck her tongue out. “I would be content with just my riding suit, thank you very much.”
Alicent laughed. “You know you’d rather die than look simple. You live for fine silks and designs-”
Y/N nodded, doing her best to imitate the Princess. “Oh Y/N fetch the purple dress, will you? Fetch the red dress! No, not that one. The one with the jewels. No not that one, the other-” A pillow slammed against her face, and she giggled, holding her hands up defensively. “Mercy, I beg of you!”
“You could have had all this.” Rhaenyra sat beside the girl, whispering. “If my father simply acknowledged-”
“That my mother gave birth to me out of wedlock? No amount of Targaryen blood can excuse that dishonor.” Y/N sat up, frowning. “It does no good to dwell, Rhaenyra. Besides, I am content with the life I lead, spending time with my favorite cousin.”
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. “I am your only cousin.”
“Not true.” She laughed. “There is Daemon and-”
“My brother seems rather taken with you, I must say.” Y/N’s heart broke at the thought of Gwayne being smitten with Rhaenyra.
Why, she could not quite place. “Hear that ‘Nyra? I told you I was-”
“I was talking to you, Y/N,” Alicent smirked.
Her cheeks grew hot, her hands itching to cover her face. “You must be mistaken.”
“Do you truly think so little of him?” The auburn-haired girl reached out, grabbing Y/N’s hand comfortingly. “I assure you, he is honorable and loyal to a fault.”
“I am sure he is.” Y/N smiled. “He must be leaving soon, now that the tournament is nearly over.”
Rhaenyra smirked. “I must say, it was not as extensive as I would have liked.”
“Really?” Y/N laughed. “It has already been a fortnight since its beginning.”
“And if the Princess feels it is not finished…” Rhaenyra wiggled her eyebrows. “The Princess will announce an extension.”
Alicent giggled. “Or rather your father.”
“My lady.”
She’d almost escaped. Y/N sighed, turning around. “My lord.”
She had seen the man following her for quite a while, hoping that he was merely visiting the library. She bowed quickly. “How may I be of service?” Lord Frey’s scent could make a man grown faint. She felt the bile rise as he took a step closer, whispering.
“I was wondering if you could put in a word with your Princess.”
She nodded. “What would you like me to relay?”
“Well-” His ‘kind’ facade was cracking. If he could barely handle a simple question, she doubted Rhaenyra would enjoy him. “If you could-”
“My lady.” Her heart fluttered at the sight of Gwyane Hightower, his hair bouncing as he walked toward her. “I’ve been waiting. We agreed to meet in the gardens.”
“I am sorry.” She smiled, genuinely smiled. “I was simply talking to Lord Frey.” She looked back to the older man, urging him to continue. “You were saying, my lord?”
He gritted his teeth. “It is of no consequence. I shall take my leave.” He bowed. “My lady. Ser Hightower.”
“Lord Frey,” Gwayne replied, waiting until he had rounded the corner. “Always a pleasure.”
Y/N fought the urge to laugh. She walked past the young knight, her heart beating faster as he diligently followed after her. “Do you not have somewhere to be, my lord?”
“As I said, I have been waiting for you.”
She scoffed. “I must say, you are the very picture of a knight. Saving a damsel in distress? How chivalrous.”
He smiled, bowing sarcastically. “Thank you, my lady.”
“I am not a-”
“A lady. You have said.” He grabbed a book from the shelf, pretending to read it before throwing it over his shoulder. She rolled her eyes, walking around him to pick up the book he’d discarded. The maester would have her head if he found it lying there. “I must say, a lady has never been so-” He laughed as she opened her mouth to correct him. “So unmoved by my advances.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint. If you’ll excuse me-”
“What are you doing with the remainder of your day, I wonder.”
“Why?”
“I would like a proper tour of the castle, and my sister has been too busy as of late.” He looked too eager, too eager to spend time with a mere lady in waiting. “Would you care to show me?”
“I would not.”
“Wonderful. I will-” He stopped. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said, I would not.” She put the last book away, climbing up the ladder. “It is quite cruel, this game you are playing.”
“I am sorry?” He tilted his head.
“I know this is a ploy to gain Rhaenyra’s favor, to win the tourney, and possibly win your father’s approval.” She scoffed, eyes watery at the thought of yet another man using her to gain advantage. “This is by far the cruelest way, I must tell you.”
He laughed, actually laughed at her, which only angered her further, tears falling as a result. He stopped his laughing, reaching out to comfort her, frowning when she stepped back. “Do you really think I am using you for your lady’s hand?”
“I do.” She climbed back down from the ladder, ignoring the way he held it from wavering beneath her. “There is no reason for you to be interested in me.”
He shook his head as if he’d misheard her. “Are you aware you are beautiful?”
Y/N ignored that comment, facing him with pleading eyes. “Please spare me from your taunts. I understand that you may- you may find it amusing-”
Gwayne was confused, extremely, and utterly confused. He had just complimented her, why was she asking him to spare her? “I must make this clear and simple, as you seem to get the wrong impression from me. I am not interested in your lady. I am interested in-”
“Every suitor I have encountered has gone through either myself or Alicent to gain Rhaenyra’s favor. By the gods-” She flailed her arms. “Some even go to me inquiring about your sister!”
He practically growled, her heart leaping from the sound. “Then they are cowards.”
“Yes, well…” She had to leave before her resolve broke. “My lord.”
“Do you let anyone other than yourself speak?”
Y/N gasped, whipping around. “Excuse me?”
“I have been trying to explain myself to you, to tell you that-” He stopped himself. “So far every attempt has been overpowered by you.” He crossed his arms, a smirk gracing his lips. “Now…” His voice was practically a whisper. “May I speak?”
“I-” She swallowed, nodding. She did not trust her voice when he looked at her so… so longingly?
“The outing I suggested earlier, would simply be a tour, nothing more.” He took her hand in his. “Nothing untoward will come of it, I swear to you.”
He looked sincere. So sincere that she began to consider it. “We will need a chaperone. The king would not allow me to go off alone, even with a knight.”
“The king?” Gwayne was intrigued. “Exactly why would the king care?”
“Because I am a ward of the crown. I have been since I was born. My mother was a-” She stopped herself. “She was a close friend of King Jaehaerys, and he took me in. King Viserys has been gracious enough to let me stay.”
“Well, then I shall have to thank him.”
“For?”
“If it had not been for him…” He reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “We would have never met.”
She rolled her eyes, pulling herself out of his hold. “I shall see you tomorrow, my lord.”
He grinned, calling after her. “I look forward to it!”
Gwayne smiled as he watched the woman in front of him. She was glowing in this light and practically skipping through the gardens with joy. It was funny, seeing a woman he had often seen as melancholy at best so energetic. “Do you often find yourself at peace here?”
“I do.” Y/N nodded. “I was told my mother loved the gardens, I suppose I feel she is still with me when I am here.”
“Did you know her?” Gwayne inquired. “Your mother, that is.”
“She died when I was a babe.” She leaned forward, taking in the scent of the roses in front of her. “I have glimpses of her. She had bright eyes, bright hair. Her laugh was the most beautiful melody you could ever hear. At least…” She drifted off, staring at the ground. “From what I can remember.”
“I have the same.” His voice was quiet. “Although, my mother died when I was eight years of age.”
“That’s awful.” She frowned. “Alicent told me she had died, but not how old you’d been. That must have been worse, I suppose. Having known her, and then in a moment, gone.”
He shrugged. “My mother was… less than maternal. She had always been one for court and fashion rather than her children.”
“Ah.”
“Still, it hurt. Me more than Alicent, I suppose. She’d only been four years old.”
She ached to reach out and hold him. “I am sorry.”
“For?”
“Reliving the past.”
“If I remember correctly…” He plucked a nearby daisy, placing it behind her ear ever so delicately. “I found this topic of conversation.”
“Yes well…” She smiled, leaning into his touch ever so slightly. “Still…”
He leaned forward, his breath hitting her nose. “I am sure your mother would be proud.”
To that, Y/N laughed. “She was always the adventurous sort, at least, that is what I’ve gathered from the stories. She was highly admired too, beautiful…” She looked down, picking at the skin around her thumb. “I hope to be half the woman she was.”
“You are.” He whispered, holding her hand. He had noticed, much to his dismay, that she’d adopted the habit of picking at her skin. It hurt him, to see her do that to herself.
His sister did the same.
Her heart stopped, looking up to meet his gaze. He was beautiful. Staring into his eyes, she began to realize how inappropriate of a position they were in.
Where was their chaperone? She took a step back, forgetting the rose bush behind her. Yelping, she jumped forward, falling into his arms.
Gwayne laughed, throwing his head back. “Have I startled you?”
She scoffed, pushing him away. “Not at all. I simply remembered we have much more of the tour to get through.” She darted around him, leading the way out of the garden. “Now, come along.”
“Yes sir,” Gwayne muttered, mockingly saluting.
She looked behind her, a smile gracing her lips. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” His pace quickened until they were side by side. “Simply admiring your hospitality.”
She shoved his arm, rolling her eyes. “Ever the jester.”
The remainder of their day passed quickly, much quicker than Y/N would have liked. By the end, she came to realize that the noble knight was a near-perfect companion. Serious when required, a jester when the moment called for it, he was kind, and a good man.
Their last moments had been silent, soaking in the dull roar around them. Every so often, their hands grazed, neither daring to reach out. The sunset with the perfect blend of orange and pink, the waves crashing against King Landing’s rocky cliffs. It made Y/N smile, the way it brought out the red in Gwayne’s hair. She whispered, the words barely leaving her. “You’re hair is the most perfect shade. Have you noticed?” His cheeks turned red, and she smirked, taking his silence as a no. “If only it were transferable.”
That had made him laugh. “Have you just given me a compliment?”
She laughed. “We are friends, are we not?” The night was coming to an end, her door just a few paces away. “Friends compliment each other.”
His shoulders visibly deflated, but he smiled nonetheless. “Yes. Friends compliment each other.” Silence fell over them again, neither daring to speak until she’d reached for her door. His hand grabbed her wrist, holding her just so.
His voice was raspy, quiet enough the breeze itself could have carried it away. “You are perfection itself.” Her cheeks were bright red, and she grew grateful he could not see her, knowing that she would surely become the subject of his jests if he saw her blush. “As your friend…”
She nodded, smiling to herself as she pushed the door open, his hold releasing her wrist. “Goodnight, my lord.”
“My friends do not call me my lord.”
She turned around, curtsying ever so lightly. “Then goodnight, Gwayne.”
He bowed, kissing the back of her hand. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Are you not terribly tired of reading?”
“If I was tired of it, I would not still be doing it, now would I?”
Gwayne groaned, rolling over on their shared blanket, staring at the sky. “One should not confine themselves to a book when the whole world is sitting in front of them.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, setting the book down in her lap. “I will have you know I am not confining myself.”
“Oh?” He laughed, his eyes closing. “Then what exactly are you doing?” “I was trying to relax.” She murmured. “Something I can never seem to do when you are present.”
“What was that?” His smirk was growing increasingly mischievous, and she knew that he had heard her.
“I will not repeat myself. You heard me.” Grabbing her book out of her lap, she opened its pages once more. “Now hush. This is the best part.”
“Read it to me then.” He closed his eyes, laying beside her. “I would like to hear what is so interesting it has taken you away from me.”
“It was you who suggested the picnic, Gwayne, not I.” She laughed. “They are supposed to be tranquil.”
“Maybe in King’s Landing.” He muttered. “In Oldtown, they are supposed to be fun.”
“Well, I am not from Oldtown, nor are we there, which could imply why I was unaware of your customs. Which could also explain how we have reached this argument.”
His eyebrows raised. “Is this an argument?”
She ignored him, mumbling to herself. “This is fun.”
“Well, it would be.” He teased. “If you read to me.”
“You jest.” She mumbled. “Now let me sit in peace.”
He stood up, walking behind her just to sit down once more. “May I?”
“May you what, exactly?” Her cheeks felt hot, he had this effect on her.
“Alicent once taught me to plait hair, when she was young.” He smiled to himself. “I assume it was a self-serving act, but still.” He leaned forward, his voice causing goosebumps to run up her spine. “At least let me pass the time this way.”
“Fine.” Y/N could never say no to him, no matter how hard she tried. “Do not make me look hideous.”
“That…” He pulled out the pins that held her hair elegantly. “Is not possible.” Her cheeks flushed, ignoring that compliment. “Are you attending the tourney tomorrow?”
Y/N nodded. “I must. Rhaenyra has insisted I attend as her lady-in-waiting.” She laughed. “It is quite odd.”
“How so?”
“She has never required that of me before.”
Gwayne grinned. “Well, I shall enjoy knowing you are watching.”
“Really?” She laughed again. “I thought you would enjoy it more if I had not attended. Then you could recount the story as outlandishly as you pleased.”
“Y/N…” His voice sounded desperate, and her heart skipped. “If you do not wish to attend, I’m sure the Princess will understand.”
“No!” She practically yelped. “I want to.”
He smiled, his blush growing darker. “Then I shall do my very best.” His fingers grazed her neck, a gasp leaving her lips before she could silence herself. Gwayne made no comment of it, simply finishing the braid and standing up, extending his hand.
She glared playfully, standing up of her own accord. She knelt, picking up the blanket and folding it haphazardly.
“Let me.” Gwayne took the blanket and basket from her arms, carrying them back up to the castle. “A lady should never carry such things.”
“A basket and blanket?” She raised an eyebrow. “I am not weak.”
“I know.” He smiled, enjoying the fire in her eyes. “You are decidedly, not weak.”
She nodded, puffing her chest. “If we walk any slower, you shall be late.”
He groaned. “Why must I attend this soiree?”
“Because it is meant for you. For knights participating in the tourney, that is. Rhaenyra will be there, as will her father-”
“And will you?” Gwayne interrupted. “Be in attendance?”
“I shall.” She smiled brightly. “Now come along and follow after me closely.”
He tilted his head. “Where are you taking me, exactly?”
“Maegor’s tunnels.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “They were made as an escape plan. Now the servants use them to move around the castle unseen.” The corridor was dark, the lanterns doing little to illuminate the path.
Gwayne felt a chill run down his spine, and he reached out, grabbing her hand. “Are you quite sure this is safe?”
“I have used them my whole life.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “Trust me.”
He smiled, all fears of imminent doom leaving him as her skin touched his. “Lead the way.”
“You are going to break my hand.” Rhaenyra hissed.
Y/N smiled guiltily, releasing the Princess's hand. “My apologies, Princess.” She straightened the fabric of her dress, sitting tall. “I am simply excited. I love tourneys.”
“You do not. You have not been to a tourney since we were ten years of age.”
“Untrue,” Y/N muttered, looking over the edge of the box for her knight. “I am simply busy.”
“With what?” Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow. “Who are you looking for anyhow?”
Alicent sat on the other side of the Princess, leaning forward and wiggling her eyebrows. “I believe she is looking for my brother.”
Rhaenyra grinned. “Has that-” Alicent elbowed the Princess, widening her eyes.
Y/N tilted her head. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Rhaenyra muttered, holding her side. “Nothing.”
A knight approached the royal box, and Y/N grinned, waiting for Rhaenyra to stand first, as was customary. Rhaenyra smirked, looking at Alicent quickly before approaching the ledge. “Ser Hightower.” Alicent and Y/N approached second, arm in arm. Curstying quickly, she smiled at Gwayne brightly. The knight nodded his head. “Your Highness.” He turned to Y/N, his eyes softening. “My lady.”
“Ser Hightower.” Y/N greeted. “This is quite the tourney. I’m impressed.”
He grinned. “May I-” He swallowed. “May I have the honor of wearing your favor?”
Her cheeks grew bright red. “You-” She looked at Rhaenyra. “Do you not-”
He laughed. “I believe it is quite obvious I do not.”
Rhaenyra laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. She leaned over, whispering in her cousin’s ear. “This is when you give the man your favor, Y/N.”
“But, I-” She turned back to Gwayne once more. “Are you quite sure?”
He nodded, cheeks slightly flushed. “Yes, my lady.”
She turned around, pulling her arm out of Alicent’s. As she was a bastard, her house colors were unknown, opting to simply decorate the ring with her favorite flowers.
Of course, Rhaneyra and Y/N had known, but to blatantly defy the order of the king… she locked eyes with King Viserys, who was gazing at her curiously. Her eyes darted to the floor, turning back around. “May your luck bring you to victory, Ser Hightower.”
“As long as I have you to think of…” He looked positively giddy. “I shall never lose.”
Y/N was sure her cheeks were bright red. She rolled her eyes, ignoring his compliment.
Her heart twisted, knowing that they could never marry, as who would allow their firstborn son, their heir, to wed a bastard? She pushed his lance playfully, pulling herself out of her thoughts. “Go on, then.”
“You look stunning.” Alicent smiled, placing her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “The very picture of a lady.”
Y/N’s cheeks flushed. “I cannot name a time I have dressed so…” She smiled. “So elegantly.”
“It is a ball,” Rhaenyra interjected. “I will not have my dear friend in something drab.”
Alicent glared, and Rhaenyra stuck her tongue out. “She knows I do not mean that she is drab. I was simply-”
“It is alright, Rhaenyra.” Y/N laughed. “I was not offended in the slightest.”
“Red is most definitely your color.” Alicent grinned, spinning her friend around.
Rhaenyra smirked. “Your knight shall not know what to do with himself.” Alicent gasped, smacking Rhaenyra’s arm. The Princess winced, glaring at her friend. “You cannot keep hitting me whenever you are disappointed.”
Y/N tilted her head. “My knight?”
“It is no matter.” Alicent stopped the Princess from blabbing anymore. “Shall we?”
The ballroom was filled to the brim with nobility from all over the Seven Kingdoms, the Hightowers, the Tullys, even the Starks had come to participate in the tourney and celebrate its results.
Y/N stepped back, watching as her friends entered. The squire stomped his cane, effectively silencing the ballroom. “The Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the Seven Kingdoms, accompanied by the Lady Alicent Hightower.”
They looked elegant, lighting up the room as they walked. Y/N walked up to the squire, smiling lightly. “No need to introduce me, Orvyn.”
He nodded, smiling kindly. “As you wish, my lady.”
The ballroom had not paid attention as she walked, not that she minded. It was better that way, she convinced herself as she glanced around the room. She smiled, waving at Gwayne, who was already staring back at her, rather intensely. His eyes… she shivered, ripping herself away from his gaze as she curtsied before the King. “Your Majesty.”
Viserys smiled, eyeing her royal red dress with curiosity. “Y/N.”
She rose; she could still feel Gwayne’s eyes fixed on her. Sitting beside Rhaenyra, she took a large gulp of her wine. “Is Gwayne still-”
Rhaenyra nodded, laughing to herself. “He is walking over.”
“What?” Y/N’s eyes widened, her heart pounding. “Why?”
“I assume…” She whispered, Gwayne now mere inches away. “He is going to ask you to dance.”
“He-”
“Your Highness.” The knight bowed. “My lady.”
Y/N avoided eye contact and took another large sip. Rhaenyra smirked. “Ser Gwayne, congratulations on your victory.”
“Thank you, Princess.” He smiled. “Would you mind terribly if I stole your lady for a dance?”
Rhaenyra shook her head. “Not at all, my lord.” She looked at Y/N, enjoying this situation too much. “Y/N?”
“What?” Y/N whispered.
“He is asking you to dance.” Rhaenyra hissed. “Now get up.”
“I-” Y/N looked at Gwayne for the second time that night, feeling as if she could faint at any moment. “I would be delighted.”
His hand waited for hers, as it had so many times before. He whispered, placing his arm around her waist as they stood on the dance floor, his touch shocking her to her very core. “Is something the matter?”
She shook her head.
“Then why, pray tell…” His voice sounded desperate. “Have you refused to meet my eyes? I have missed your company.”
She raised her gaze, falling for the trap he’d set. “I saw you but two days ago, Gwayne.”
“There you are.” He grinned, pulling her closer as the dance began. “Now tell me, what is the matter?”
“You are leaving soon.”
“I am.” He replied as if this were any normal conversation. And perhaps it was, but Y/N would not say so. No normal conversation made her heart beat as fast as this.
“And I-” She sighed. “I did not want to bother you while you prepared for your journey back.”
“Back?” He tilted his head. “And where am I journeying to?”
“To Oldtown, of course.” His eyebrows scrunched, and Y/N fought the urge to burst into laughter. “I assumed-”
“Well, there’s no good in that, is there?” He whispered. “Assuming is a dangerous business.”
“But why would you stay?” She felt entirely confused. He had won the tourney and now would go home to tend to his duties. “There is no-” His eyes sparkled as she spoke, halting her momentarily. “No reason.”
Gwayne leaned down, his breath hitting her cheeks. “There is one reason. A very compelling one, in truth.”
Her heart stopped. “Is there?”
He nodded, eyes fluttering down to her lips.
Oh.
She was the reason.
Before she could fall for his spell, she pulled back, disrupting the dance. His eyes widened, reaching out to hold her hand. “Y/N?”
She ripped her hand back, staring wide-eyed. “I am not feeling well.”
His tone was gentle, it made her stomach flip. Gods, he had to stop being so- so perfect. “Would you like me to-”
“No!” She yelped, slapping a hand over her mouth. Nobles from around the room curiously gazed at the couple. “No, I shall go alone.”
“Y/N-”
She whipped around, stalking out of the ballroom. It broke her, to walk away from his hold. She knew she could no longer be around him; she was fighting her very soul to leap up and attach her lips to his.
There was only one solution to this problem, this vexing complication - she would have to avoid him entirely. No more traipsing around the halls waiting for him to see her, no more walking by the stables or the training yard.
No, she would have to stay confined to her and Rhaenyra’s rooms.
That was the best course of action, for both her and Gwayne.
Little did she know, Gwayne would not stand for it.
“They say-” Rhaenyra spoke carefully as she addressed her cousin. “That your knight is leaving today.”
“Ah.” Y/N nodded, staring off into the distance.
“Y/N…” The Princess sat beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Punishing yourself because of your birth… You must stop refusing any sign of affection or love simply on the-”
“Who said it was love?” Y/N scoffed, walking out to the balcony. “Certainly not I.”
“Anyone with eyes can see it. He is mad for you, as you are for him.” Rhaenyra muttered under her breath. “Even if you refuse to admit it.”
“I cannot admit something false, Rhaenyra.” Her lips curled into a twisted sort of smile. “I am content with my life, serving you.”
“All perfectly fine with me,” Rhaenyra reassured. “But you have a chance with Gwayne. Swear to me you will not waste it.”
“I-” She sighed. “I must retrieve your dinner, my lady.” Y/N curtsied before racing out of the room. By the gods, she couldn’t breathe when Rhaenyra lectured her. It was horrible enough that Alicent had begun to look upon her as if she was a kicked puppy, now Rhaenyra had began to do the same.
She pushed open the servant's door, twisting through Maegor’s tunnels with ease. It was odd, she told herself, at the lack of maids in its halls. Normally, she was dodging servants left and right. This felt strange, unnerving in a way.
Footsteps echoed behind her, and her heart lept when a hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her into a dark corner. She gasped, flailing her arms around, anything to beat this intruder off her. Gwayne’s familiar voice ripped her from her panicked cries. “It’s me! It’s me.”
She rolled her eyes, pulling her arm out of his grasp. “What possessed you to drag me-”
“You will not talk to me.” He crossed his arms, staring at her intensely. “I am sorry if I scared you.” She turned around, walking back to the hallway. Gwayne followed diligently. “My party is set to leave today.”
Y/N nodded, ignoring the way her heart clenched. “So I’ve heard.”
“I wanted to say goodbye before I left.” His voice wavered. “I will miss-”
“You’ve said goodbye.” She cut him off, whipping around. “Now you may leave.”
He closed the space between them, eyes running wild with confusion. “Why must you be like this? Have I truly upset you?”
“Will you not respect a lady’s wishes?” She took a step back, scoffing. “I thought you were a knight, Lord Hightower.”
“Don’t.”
“I must attend to my lady. Her dinner is past due.” She continued her walk through the tunnels, ignoring his overwhelming presence.
“Damn her dinner.” He hissed, walking a pace behind her as he whispered. “I have been trying, for weeks, to court you, and you’ve denied me every step of the way. Just as soon as I-”
She scoffed. “Court me? Did Lord Tyland put you up to this?”
He shook his head, laughing. “Is it so hard to believe that I am interested in you? That the very thought of you consumes me?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Why?”
She could only imagine his expression, his beautiful face creased with shock. Her cheeks flushed at the thought. “I am a bastard, you a lord’s son. By the gods, your father is hand to the King, and I am merely a lady in waiting.” She frowned, eyes watering. “It is not proper-”
“Then damn propriety!” He yelled, grabbing her wrist and halting her in her tracks. Her back was pressed against his chest. “I- I am mad for you, you must see that.”
Her shoulders shook, tears falling down her face. “Gwayne, it is for the best.”
“No!” He twirled her around, his hand gently caressing her cheek. “You- you make me think, and feel, and act as none have. Your laughter- it brightens my day. Your wit makes me proud. I am-” He sighed, smiling brightly at the mere sight of her. “How?”
She tilted her head. “How?”
“How can I show you?” Her back collided with the wall, her breath leaving her, her heart thumping at their proximity. “How can I make you believe?”
“Gwayne…”
“Damn it to hell…” He leaned down, colliding his lips to hers. She gasped, eyes fluttering shut as she instantly pulled him closer. “I am not deterred by your status, nor do I care. I will have you, regardless of what the court thinks is proper.” His forehead leaned against hers, his hand resting at the bottom of her neck.
“We cannot-” Tears continued to fall down her face. “Gwayne it cannot happen-”
“Do you want it to?” He remained steadfast. “Is this what you truly feel, or merely what the lords and ladies of Kings Landing shall say?”
“Gwayne, your father will never approve.”
“By the gods woman…” He laughed. “Do you love me?”
“Love?” She choked on a sob. Her body felt as if it could burst into flames at any moment. He was standing close, closer than what was deemed appropriate. “Do I-”
“I do.” He whispered, nudging her nose with his, lips barely touching. “I love you.”
“Gwayne, just listen to me.” She was fighting every bone in her body not to kiss him senselessly. “I am not good enough for you. There are hundreds of ladies-”
“You are, you are good enough. Perhaps too good. Besides…” He whispered. “I want you. Only you.” His eyes were intense, his thumb caressing her collarbone. By the gods, he was trying to make her burst into flames. “Only you.” His lips collided against hers, her eyes fluttering shut once more.
Her hands found their way to his chest, slowly pushing him away. “We cannot.”
“Oh?” He looked around the hallway. “I do not see anyone.”
“You know what I meant, Gwayne Hightower.”
“Would you like to stop?”
“No!” Her eyes widened, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.
His eyebrows rose, laughing to himself. “So eager.” He nudged his nose against hers. “Whatever shall I do with you?”
“Why have you stopped?” Gwayne’s voice was but a murmur. “I did not know you were listening.” She smiled. “You appeared to be sleeping.”
“Merely basking in your presence, my love.” His eyes fluttered open. “I must say, you look radiant in this light.”
She laughed. “As opposed to?”
“You know that I find you impossibly perfect.” His eyes shut again. “How long has it been since you began this book?”
“Hard to say. Possibly half an hour?” She squinted suspiciously. “Why?”
“No reason.” He smirked, finding comfort in her lap once more.
“Well, there must be.” Her laughter filled his heart, his soul. “You never ask for the time.”
“May I not ask the beautiful woman, whom I love, what the time is? I simply want to know how long I have been lying in the garden.” His eyes peeked open once more, her eyebrows raising in amusement. “If you must know, I have an appointment at half past three.”
“An appointment?” She shut her book, running her hand through his hair. “Whatever for?”
“It is a secret.”
“Really?” She pulled her hand away from his hair, laughing as he sat up, obviously disappointed by the sudden lack of touch.
“Really.” He stood, extending his hand. She smiled, placing hers in his gladly. “It is with the King.”
She laid her head on his shoulder, smiling as they walked. “Has something happened?”
“Yes.”
Her heart dropped. “Is it serious?”
He nodded. “Deadly.”
She groaned. “Now you must tell me.”
He sighed, stopping by the fountain. “Fine, fine. But you must not tell.”
She nodded, interlocking their pinkies. “I swear.”
He leaned forward, whispering in her ear. “I am asking the King for your hand.”
Her eyebrows crinkled. “My hand?”
“In marriage, my love.” She stood there speechless. He laughed, kissing the back of her hand gently. “I cannot be late.”
He had been halfway down the trail when she’d been brought back to life.
“Gwayne!”
He turned around, laughing at the sight before him. Y/N was racing toward him, skirts in hand and book discarded, grinning wildly. “Gwayne, you come back here this instant!”
He shook his head, running away. “This is highly unladylike, I must say!” She glared, almost tripping over a tree root, his laughter cascading through the garden. “Almost makes me rethink my question!”
taglist: @beebeechaos @i-padfootblack-things
#game of thrones#house of the dragon#team black#team green#alicent hightower#gwayne hightower#gwayne hightower x reader#rhaenyra targaryen#x reader#fanfiction#got#got fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd#fluff#hotd fluff#literature#🪩! fics
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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 & 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
a/n: oh god this man is doing things to me...
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
ISFJ or ISTJ
Ravenclaw
Lawful Neutral to Neutral Good
Sagittarius Sun, Cancer Moon, Scorpio Rising
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿
・You're the rider of Silverwing, the glorious, graceful and maternal dragon who watches over you wherever you go.
・When you were young, it was very difficult for your mother because Silverwing would sweep you away and take you to her nest. Making you one of her own.
・You knew about the Hightowers, and how close Alicent & Rhaenyra were. You were very jealous, but weren't the kind of person to bump shoulders just to be included.
・So your best friend was a dragon. And you wouldn't have it any other way.
・Your connection with her is incredibly strong. Almost telepathic at times. She can feel what you feel - like two one soul in two bodies.
・And when you become of marriagable age - she did not like any of the suitors. So she was there, right by your side, huffing and puffing (putting your white cloaks on edge...)
・Just like Rhaenys the Conquorer, you flew further and further with your mount.
・You weren't the sister of Rhaenyra, but of Rhaenys. Your parents were Aemon Targaryen and Jocelyn Baratheon. And they had you when they were very, very old. Your birth was a miracle.
・And your sister, who was many years older, became a mother to you. As your two parents died.
・Your marriage was put forth by Viserys, well, Otto mainly. He knew his daughter would become queen and yet he was still full of ambition.
・Rhaenys saw straight through this. And your sister did everything she could to stop the marriage.
・But Viserys would not be persuaded...
・When you first met Gwayne, your initial opinion was that he was an ass. A pompus, arrogant, rude, ass.
・He had kissed your hand within the first two minutes and let his eyes linger on your own for far too long.
'I hate him already.' You thought and Silverwing snarled in agreement.
・But the dragon did not deter the Hightower man. He simply smirked and bowed his head.
・As time went by, your cemented walls were slowly knocked down one by one by Gwayne.
・But it wasn't until you offered to take him flying that you truly bonded.
・Clinging as tight as he could to you, Silverwing did every trick in the book to make him faint; straight diving and pulling up at the last second, twirling over herself over and over etc.)
・The whole time you were laughing, not just at his reaction but laughing with pure joy. Your fiance feeling what you feel.
・After that Gwayne looked at you with a newly found gratitue. You were true friends.
・But when Rhaenys started to speak to you about what marriage was really like - you didn't want to hear it.
"...my love, he may stray and sometimes you cannot stop it."
The words had hit you like a boulder to the heart. No, you could not endure such a betrayal.
"Sister. If he dares, then Silverwing will have the most royal feast she has ever had."
・But you need not ever worry about Gwayne's attention turning to another. You are all he needs. All he wants.
・He shows it to you through the way he speaks; the charming, soft voice that makes your knees tremble. The ever so gentle brush of his hand against yours.
・It drives you insane.
・And you never, not once in a nillion years, thought you would say this.
・"Gwayne, please. Let's just marry. Now. It needs to be now or I'll explode."
𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔
Forced Proximity
"I'd do anything for you." (Gwayne) x "As you should." (You)
Survives because of pure luck (You) x Is the pure luck (Gwayne)
𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆
Enemies to Lovers
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈
Let It Happen by The Midnite String Quartet
𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.
・Your first kiss was ... passionate. The hesitation of your lips before one another caused such heat you could not comprehend.
・You consummated your wedding night. Over and over and over again. Until Gwayne said, "my heart I cannot handle another round. I do not think I can move."
"Oh husband," you said while rolling onto your side. "You are going to have to get used to this. There's fire in my blood after all..."
・His eyebrows rose and his handsome face was covered in amusement.
"Well, wife. I guess I'll have to train harder," and with that he gripped your waist and flung on top of you.
・It is well known that the two of you cannot keep your hands off each other. You always do it when no one is around - but somehow someone always sees.
・But it's very difficult when he whispers in your ear all the things he thinks about. The things he wants you to do to him. Where he wants you to touch him.
・Is this not what married life is about? Being so incredibly obsessed with the other that your whole body hurts whenever they aren't near?
#witchthewriter#headcanons#gwyne hightower#gwayne hightower x reader#house of the dragon#dragons#house hightower#otto hightower#alicent hightower#the forgotten hightower siblings#rhaenyra targaryen#daemon targaryen#daemond targaryen#dragonstone#kings landing#essos#westeros#asoiaf#asoiaf headcanons#hotd#hotd headcaons#hotd spoilers#hotd daemon#hotd headcanons#hotd fic#rhaenerya targaryen#house of the dragon spoilers#hotd aemond#hotd s2#hotd x reader
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⭑ Rybas ⭑
Masterlist
A/N: I am so sorry anon for how long it took! (Like a month oops-) Still, I hope you like it ;)
Request: Yes
Pairing: Jealous!Aemond x Betrothed!Niece!Reader
Warnings: +18 MDNI, NSFW, very very possesive Aemy, toxic, reader riling Aemond up, argument mentioned, weak ass Baratheon, making out, tongue fucking ig? , oral (f receiving), p in v penetration, public sex (sort of iykyk) and orgasm denial oh and creampie duh
Summary: Due to an argument that ocurred between you and your betrothed before the feast, he chooses to ignore you. There is only one way to make his attention turn back to you.
Translation title: "Obey"
The air in the Red Keep was thick with the scent of roasted meats, honeyed wine, and the perfume of noble ladies, mingling together in a way that should have been enticing but only served to suffocate you. The hall was alive with music and laughter, the glow of thousands of candles reflecting off the golden plates and polished goblets. Your betrothal feast was in full swing, and yet, despite the grandeur of it all, you felt like a bird trapped in a gilded cage.
Seated at the high table beside your intended, your uncle Aemond, you barely acknowledged the festivities. Your chin rested on your palm as your fingers drummed idly against the surface of the table. Across from you, King Viserys sat, looking pleased and weary in equal measure, while Queen Alicent kept a watchful eye on her son. Helaena, ever the dreamer, seemed lost in her own world, speaking softly to herself as she toyed with her goblet.
Aemond’s presence beside you was a cold, steely weight. Normally, his intensity made you shiver with something close to pleasure, but tonight, after your earlier argument, it only frustrated you. His silence was deliberate, his long fingers curled around his goblet, his sharp jaw tense. He was ignoring you, punishing you for your defiance.
You had always been headstrong, never one to be controlled easily. The idea that you were to belong to Aemond, that you were to be his wife- made your blood hum with a mixture of excitement and irritation. You could respect him, even admire him in some ways, but you would not be tamed like a dog. That was the source of your earlier disagreement, a whispered but heated exchange in the gardens before the feast.
“You will not behave like some common girl, smiling at any man who looks your way,” he had said through clenched teeth, his fingers firm around your wrist.
“And you will not dictate who I may speak to, Aemond,” you had countered, lifting your chin in defiance.
He had said nothing after that, only releasing your wrist and stepping back, his single eye burning with irritation. Now, he barely acknowledged you, sipping his wine as if you were not sitting right beside him.
Fine, if that was how he wished to play it.
With a deliberate movement, you rose from your seat, the scrape of your chair against the stone floor drawing glances from those seated nearby. You felt Aemond’s eye snap to you, but you refused to look at him. Instead, you lifted your skirts and descended from the royal table into the waves of nobles below.
The air was livelier away from the high table, filled with laughter and conversation. Lords and ladies alike bowed or curtsied as you passed, offering their well-wishes and compliments on your upcoming wedding. You accepted them with polite smiles, though your mind was already set on a particular course of action.
It did not take long to find a suitable distraction. Lord Borros Baratheon’s younger brother, Ser Lyonel, was standing near the wine casks, speaking with a few other knights. He was broad-shouldered and handsome, with an easy smile and a glint of mischief in his dark eyes. A known flirt, he was precisely the type of man who would set Aemond’s already short temper alight.
You approached with an air of confidence, letting your lips curve into a charming smile. “Ser Lyonel,” you greeted, tilting your head. “Are the Baratheons enjoying the feast?”
He turned to you with a grin, giving a bow that was just deep enough to be respectful. “My lady,” he said, voice smooth. “We are indeed. But I must admit, the feast has grown far more interesting now.”
You laughed softly, placing a hand lightly on his arm as if joking. “You flatter me, Ser. But tell me, is Storm’s End as grand as they say?”
He launched into an enthusiastic retelling of his estate’s grandeur, and though you were only half-listening, you nodded along, laughing at the right moments, leaning in just enough to give the impression of intimacy. Aemond’s eyes burned into you from the high table, but you did not look his way.
Minutes passed, and the tension in the air grew heavier. It was only when Ser Lyonel reached for your hand, brushing his fingers over yours in a teasing gesture, that you heard it.
A chair scraping back, too harshly, too abruptly. The sound of boots striking against stone with measured purpose.
Aemond was coming.
You felt it before you saw him, the sheer force of his presence cutting through the crowd like a blade. The nobles around you quieted as he approached, his movements slow, controlled- dangerous. His sapphire eye gleamed in the dim light, his face a mask of fury.
Ser Lyonel, sensing the shift in atmosphere, straightened but did not step away from you. An idiotic move. Aemond stopped beside you, his hand clamping around your wrist in a grip that was firm, possessive. “I believe you have entertained my betrothed long enough,” he said, his voice deceptively calm.
Ser Lyonel had the good sense to hesitate, glancing between the two of you. “Of course, my prince,” he said smoothly, though there was a hint of nervousness beneath his facade. “I meant no offense.”
“You would do well to remember that,” Aemond replied, his fingers tightening ever so slightly before he pulled you away.
You barely had time to protest before he led you through the crowd, his grip never loosening, his pace determined. He did not stop until you were away from prying eyes, in a shadowed alcove beyond the grand hall.
“Aemond-” You tried to speak.
The words barely left your lips before he had you pressed against the cold stone wall, his body caging yours in. His breath was uneven, his hands resting on either side of you, trapping you.
“You dare,” he seethed, his eye flashing with fury. “You dare to make a mockery of me in front of the entire court?”
You swallowed, but met his gaze with defiance. “Perhaps if you had not ignored me all evening, I would not have sought better company.” You snapped back.
His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he simply stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, with slow deliberation, he lifted a hand, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw before tilting your chin upward.
“You belong to me,” he murmured, the words both a promise and a threat. “And I do not share.”
Your heart pounded, but you refused to look away. “Then do not give me reason to stray.”
His lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl. “Oh, my sweet niece,” he whispered, pressing closer, his breath hot against your skin. “I will make sure you never forget who you belong to.”
And with that, he claimed your lips in a searing kiss, one that left no room for argument, no space for defiance- only possession. His tongue forced itself between your lips, his hands now moving to your waist. His fury and desire for you drove him to the brink of insanity.
Aemond pulled you close against his body, his tongue dancing with yours in a heated exchange. You felt how hard you made him, his erection pressing against your stomach- and oh did it drive you further. Biting harder on his bottom lip, you drew slight blood from him, he groaned in response and the metallic taste swirled in both your mouths.
A moan escaped your lips as Aemond grinded his clothed length against you, already he was desperate for friction. Clearly he had no patience left for your attitude- he need to fuck it out of you. It wasn’t the first time he had taken you, and certainly not the last.
Who could blame him for deflowering his niece before their wedding? Especially with your fluttering lashes and devious eyes, he couldn’t help it. You felt Aemond’s rough hands turn you around at your waist, the stone wall meeting your soft, heated cheek as he pressed you against it.
The cold air hit your ever exposing skin as your soon to be husband hiked up the skirt of your dress. Helping him, you held up the bunched up fabric. You could hear him slicking up his fingers with his spit before he rubbed them through your already wet folds.
He was furious and unforgiving- but not cruel. Even though he was more than ready to take you, he knew you always needed some preparation first. When he heard your mewls growing he dove in while spreading your thighs. His tongue entered your hole, drawing louder moans from you.
Your one hand held up your skirt while the other moved to Aemond’s head, begging him to come closer, to feed on your cunt. The sinful noise of Aemonds tongue lapping at your clit while sometimes tongue fucking your hole filled the empty dark space.
If someone were to walk by, they would have a first row seat to the most vile show they had ever seen. But your betrothed felt how your walls tightend, your breaths coming out in short pants. Aemond knew you were close, he wasn’t going to let you off that easily.
He pulled back, lips and chin covered in your slick and he heard how you whined, he did not care. His hands moved to unbutton the lower buttons of his doublet before he undid the laces of his leather pants, his cock was straining against the fabric and he could no longer wait to ruin you.
Yes- he would show you exactly how a Targaryen prince fucked, how the rider of the largest dragon in the world fucked. Removing his cock from his confines, he aligned it with your slick entrance, teasing you with his tip before harshly sliding in.
He made sure to fully bottom out, the feeling of his cock hitting your cervix so roughly made you cry out. It was a bit too loud, even for an empty hallway such as this. Aemond moved his hand over your mouth. “That’s what you get for your little act, you will take my cock and you will be grateful.” He sneered.
You nodded silently, giving in as Aemond started to pound into you. He was not lying, he would have no mercy tonight- and maybe, that’s how you liked it. He grunted and breathed heavily behind you as his cock felt the warm embrace of your walls.
Aemond knew he would never grow tired of the way your cunt enveloped him, the way the ridges of your walls stimulated his tip and shaft just right- He knew he had to be fast, they couldn’t stay away for long.
He sped up his movements, fucking into you with such force that the noise of your connecting skin traveled through the Red Keep, over and over. The longer and harder he fucked you, the wetter you grew, making him able to thrust into you at a fast pace.
He was so so close, you could tell by the way his hips began to falter and Aemond grew louder himself. As his approach was nearing, he cared less and less for who heard, all he cared about was filling you up with his seed.
He rolled his hips into you more deliberately, ensuring his tip got a delicious stimulation. That did it- his balls tightend as his release fills your tight cunt. Usually Aemond would stimulate your clit so you could cum together- but today he did not. His back arched and he held you against him tightly, until he felt like he was fully empty.
The way his sticky release ran down your thigh was an addicting feeling, but your clit still throbbed. He took note of your disappointing face looking back at him. “What? You thought you would get rewarded for your behaviour?” He tormented. “Show me you can be good the remainder of this insufferable night- and you might get what you want.” With that he made you return to the feast with his seed still dripping out of you.
#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd smut#ewan mitchell#request#aemond targaryen x reader smut#aemond targaryen x fem reader smut#aemond targaryen x fem reader
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Daddy's Credit Card
Cullen Family x Female Vampire Reader (Platonic)
PART 3
Summary: Edward made the choice to leave Bella behind and now he grapples with the fallout of his decision. How will he fare without Y/N to fall back on in his time of need? Will she come to his aid despite their strained relationship?
TW: Mention of death and self-harm, lack of regard for the feelings of others.
Carlisle made his way into the penthouse apartment that Y/N had been staying in. She left Forks after her argument with Edward, packing up and leaving without another word.
It had been months of silence before Edward made the decision to leave Bella. The Cullen family had moved to New York City, making new lives for themselves in the bustling city.
Edward had retreated into himself, remaining silent most of the time and refusing to feed. He soon made the decision to travel to Rio to be by himself. Edward had always loved Rio and he hoped it would help him to feel better, but he felt nothing.
He stayed in the same clothes, feeding off rats in the dimly lit room he had come to call home. Edward was heartbroken, he knew it was the best thing for Bella, but he wasn't ready to let her go.
Carlisle knew that his son was suffering and that is what brought him to Y/N's doorstep. She could be abrasive and uncaring at times, but a tender approach wasn't what Edward needed right now. Y/N had always been able to get through to Edward, her methods may have been unorthodox, but they certainly yielded results.
Carlisle rounded the corner, slowing to a stop when he spotted her. Y/N was lounging in a plush black armchair as she read from her book that was balanced on the arm.
"Hello, Carlisle. Still above knocking before walking into someone's home, I see," Y/N said without looking up from the words on the page.
"I didn't think you would open the door if I knocked," Carlisle replied.
"Probably not," Y/N stated, flipping the page.
"We need you help," Carlisle said.
"With what?" Y/N asked, not bothering to keep the disinterest out of her voice.
"The family has left Forks," Carlisle stated.
Y/N hesitated, eyes finally lifting to stare at him, "Why?" She asked.
"Edward has chosen to leave Bella for her own safety," Carlisle said.
Y/N scoffed, flipping the page of her book, "He is distraught and he could benefit from your friendship at this time," Carlisle said.
"I don't care what he could benefit from," Y/N deadpanned.
"Alice is worried. She thinks that he may try and do something to harm himself," Carlisle said, hoping to make her understand the severity of the situation.
"Good. I hope he gets creative," Y/N said.
"Y/N, he needs you," Carlisle pressed.
"No, he doesn't. He made that very clear," Y/N snapped, shutting her book and standing up from her seat.
"He is your family," Carlisle said, following after her as she walked out of the room.
"Is there a reason that you are still speaking to me about this, Carlisle?" Y/N questioned setting her book down on the kitchen counter.
"No one else has been able to get through to him. He has isolated himself from the family and he isn't feeding," Carlisle said.
"I don't care, Carlisle. I have said my piece about his relationship with that human and he refused to hear it. Edward brought this on himself and he should have to deal with the fallout of his own decisions," Y/N stated.
"Even if he chooses to forfeit his own life?" Carlisle questioned.
"Even then," Y/N said, walking off into the apartment and slamming one of the doors behind herself.
...
Edward sat on the dirty floor in his room, watching the sun rise and set over Rio while his body wasted away. He was miserable and he wanted nothing more than to return to Forks. Edward wanted to take Bella into his arms and tell her that he was wrong to leave her, but he wasn't. Y/N was right and they would only have a limited amount of time together before her eventual death.
He would lose her at one point or another and he knew that he wouldn't be able to handle the loss if he stayed with her. It was better to cut it off and hurt now than to grow their connection and lose it later on.
Edward hoped that Bella would move on and live a happy human life without him. Maybe she would find a nice human boy to create a life with, it would be better for her. Bella could have kids, grow old and live the life that she was always meant to live. Edward meant it when he said that she didn't belong in his world.
There would always be a small part of him that wondered if she loved him because of what he could offer her. He wouldn't be able to stomach it if their relationship was purely based on the irresistible effect that Vampires had on humans or the appeal of eternal life.
Edward hoped that he would just die.
No amount of blood could change how empty he felt inside and he just wanted to waste away until there was nothing left. Edward called the family recently to let them know he was alright, he had been calling them once a month. If he were to perish in this room, laying on the dirty floor, it could take his family a bit of time to wonder what happened. That was only if Alice didn't forsee his decision to die before he had a chance to act on it.
"Well, how the mighty have fallen," Someone said.
Edward's brow furrowed, he hadn't heard anyone enter his room over the whirlwind of his thoughts. If it were an enemy, he would be dead, not that he would protest to a swift and merciful death at this point.
Y/N stood in front of him, her expensive clothing feeling out of place in the dirty room. She stared down at him, examining his torn clothing and the dark bags under his eyes.
"I caught your dinner for you," Y/N stated, tossing the body of a rat down on the floor in front of him.
The blood made him ravenous and he dove onto it quickly with a growl, sucking down every drop of blood the creature had to offer.
Y/N watched him with a smirk, "When Carlisle told me how quickly everything had fallen apart for you in Forks I almost didn't believe him," Y/N said.
"What do you want?" Edward snapped, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
"Come with me," Y/N said.
"I'm not leaving," Edward said firmly, shaking his head.
"Well, I'm not staying here... Get up and come with me," She commanded.
Edward got to his feet quickly, gritting his teeth as he tried to resist her instructions.
"All you've had to eat in weeks is that rat that I tossed at your feet. Resisting me now is just a waste of energy and you know that," Y/N said, already making her way out of the room.
...
Edward stared out the window of the large suite in the hotel Y/N had been staying in. He had showered and Y/N gave him a change of clothes. He didn't want them. He wanted to keep the torn and dirty clothing that he had been wearing. The fabric still carried Bella's scent and he hated that Y/N had forced him to part with it.
Bella was gone. She was absent from every part of him and it suddenly felt like the wound had reopened again. Edward watched over the Rio skyline, body sitting rigid in the chair as he waited for Y/N to return from wherever she had gone.
There was no chance that her coming to his rescue was without motive. She wanted something and he needed to know what it was. Edward's life had already fallen apart, there was nothing left for her to take from him.
Y/N stepped into the suite, heeled boots clicking against the floor as she made her way towards him.
"Well, you certainly look better," She stated, tossing her purse down on the bed.
"What do you want, Y/N?" Edward asked, keeping his focus on the world outside the window.
"Carlisle came to find me and told me that you left the human," Y/N said.
"Her name is Bella," Edward snapped.
Y/N huffed, sitting down in the armchair across from him, "You haven't even known her for a year, Edward. This is a bit melodramatic, even for you," Y/N said.
"I love her," He stated, looking over at Y/N.
"Loved... You loved her. And now you left her and I'm sure she'll be much better off without you," Y/N said.
"I know that," Edward muttered, eyes falling to the floor between them.
"If you know that then why are you holding onto her. You're smarter than this, Edward," Y/N said.
"I can't just turn off my affections for her. I'm not callous like you are," He snapped.
Y/N scoffed, sitting back in her chair, "No wonder Carlisle came to me. You are being ridiculous about this, she is just a girl. Were you ever going to change her?" Y/N asked.
"No, but-," "If you had stayed, you were going to lose her anyway. You were going to remain the same, never growing older, while you watched time steal away the one you love. That girl will wrinkle and become decrepit right in front of you. If you're lucky an illness will take her while she's young, that way you won't have to watch her lose the ability to walk or care for herself. Humanity is ugly and you have spared yourself from that ugliness. Move on and pull yourself together," Y/N said, standing from her chair.
Edward watched her, hate burning like the hottest fire within him. Edward despised the way that she spoke about Bella, but he knew that she was right.
Y/N lifted her suitcase up onto the bench, placing her things inside, "What are you doing?" Edward questioned.
"Packing. You can do whatever you want, the room is paid for until the end of the month," Y/N said, closing the lid and zipping it shut.
"Where are you going to go?" Edward asked.
"Carlisle found me in New York which means it's time to move elsewhere. This family is suffocating me," She huffed.
"I appreciate you coming to find me," Edward admitted softly.
"I know that nothing I said is going to change anything for you and I am not interested in trying to get my point across anymore. Just know that if you're going to off yourself, Alice is already watching your decisions and she will step in if she deems it necessary," Y/N said.
"Why would you tell me that?" Edward asked.
"You have your own free will. If you want to die, you should be able to decide how you go," Y/N stated, setting her suitcase on the floor and pulling up the retractable handle. She grabbed her purse from the bed, slinging the strap over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry for hurting you. I understand how you felt now," Edward said.
"No, you don't... I don't think you ever will," Y/N said, making her way out of the hotel room.
...
PART 4
#edward cullen x y/n#edward cullen x reader#edward cullen x oc#edward cullen#edward cullen imagine#carlisle cullen x you#carlisle cullen x reader#carlisle x reader#carlisle cullen imagine#carlisle cullen#twilight x y/n#twilight x reader#twilight imagine#twilight#rosalie cullen#alice cullen#jasper hale#rosalie#esme cullen#bella swan imagine#bella swan
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There's something so oddly sweet about the "childhood friends to lovers" pipeline in fiction, but with Aemond Targaryen it takes such a deliciousy dark turn that my mind couldn't help but to linger on it.
Aemond can still recall every single harsh word his family has even thrown his way, how he can still feel the way his eyes would get wet but he had to hold it all in, because he could not afford to let himself to show even an ounce of weakness, not even to himself. Countless hours were wasted with him staring off into the distance somewhere, admiring the noble beasts which were flying high above in the sky, far away from the reach of anything and anyone.
Those were the times he was most envious of not having a dragon of his own. The green little beast known as jealousy would take over, causing him to want to step off the deep end.
Just as he felt the skin of his knuckles threatening to rip due to his tight grip, a warm pair of hands would make their way to him and hold onto him gently, as if he actually mattered somehow in the grand scheme of things.
Most of the time he would just stand there and let you embrace him, his heart doing cartwheels in his chest as his luscious blonde was carried by the wind. Although, if he had a particularly rough day, he would sometimes simply melt into your embrace. Cheek against cheek, Aemond could feel the worry radiating off you in spades.
It was dreadful how absolutely euphoric that made him feel.
You were his only real playmate growing up, causing him to become dreadfully possessive over you. It got so bad that Aemond outright forbade Aegon and Haelena of all people from even looking at you, let alone actually seeking you out. None of the other children in court were safe either as rumors spread fast that they ought to steer clear far away from you, lest they wished to suffer Aemond's thorny wrath.
The little paradise Aemond had cultivated for himself was not meant to last. One the same night he finally claimed his dragon, you had vanished along with your family.
He still remembers how excited he was to share the news with you, how he wished to tell you that once he was skilled enough he wished you to be the first person who would fly with him on his dragon.
No one else had the right to that privilege, absolutely no one.
But, things didn't go to plan. And truly, when do they ever?
Aemond had lost a lot that night and gained just as much. He had claimed a dragon, Vhagar, one of the largest and strongest dragons there were. In just one evening he became a one man army, there was nothing that could hold him back.
He can still feel just how tight the chair was he sat on as the maesters stitched his damaged eye, how hot the cracking fire next to him was, just how loud everyone was being... It was all irrelevant. The moment he could, he was going to seek you out and tell you everything, share each and every detail he could about his dragon...
... Until his mother told him the news.
Your family relocated due to some personal reasons and as Alicent went on and on about that, little Aemond felt his world shatter in a heartbeat.
He would rather take ten thousand cuts and stabs to his eye than ever face the pain he felt once he learned of your departure.
"It's for your own good too..." he can recall his mother saying, her voice sounding a little defeated.
"You shouldn't tie yourself to one person like you already have... I worry about you, Aemond."
That dark and stormy night, Aemond had made two vows to himself, vows he was going to sign with his own blood if he had to. The first was that no matter where in the world you were, no matter how far your family may try to take you, there would be no distance he would not tread, no man, woman or child he wouldn't slay just to hear the sound of your voice, to feel your soft skin, to be with you.
And the other was that he would make due on his promise of giving you a ride on Vhagar. He was in your debt for even trying to claim the mighty beast, it was only fair.
Aemond Targaryen took those two vows and kept them under lock and key, hidden deeply in his dark, which grew darker and darker. At the rate he was going, he would turn into a more terrifying beast than the actual dragon he had. Although, even dragons had their hearts.
You just happened to be Aemond's.
And he was going to come to you one day, soaked in the blood of his enemies, his arms open wide as he makes his way to embrace you once more.
#those cute little pastries feel so out of pocket next to aemond but idc IT'S FOR THE AESTHETIC!#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yancore#yanderecore#yandere aesthetic#house of the dragon#house of the dragon x reader#dark hotd#hotd#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd x y/n#yandere hotd#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#hotd aemond#prince aemond#aemond x reader#dark aemond targaryen#yandere aemond targaryen#dark romance
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req for an aegon ii x reader who has a similar role of margaery tyrell? (love-bombing him so they can be betrothed and stuff)
she very easily manipulates aegon and basically uses his mommy issues to get whtv she wants (obviously bothers alicent to no end).
Web of Gold
Requests are closed!
- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.
- Pairing: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen
- Rating: Mild 13+
- Next part: aegon in love
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround
It’s a beautiful morning, yet the tension between you and Alicent Hightower crackles like a summer storm. You can feel her eyes boring into you from across the room, but you’ve become quite accustomed to her watchful glares. If anything, you thrive on them.
You smile sweetly, dipping your head toward Aegon as he lounges on the Iron Throne, looking far more relaxed than any king should. He’s watching you with that same eager gleam in his eyes, waiting for whatever praise you’ll offer him next. It’s become a game for you at this point—how much can you say before he completely melts? And it’s easier than it should be.
"My king," you say softly, stepping closer, your golden Lannister curls bouncing as you move. "You look especially regal today. Like Aegon the Conqueror himself reborn. Do you know what I see when I look at you?"
Aegon straightens slightly, his eyes widening with interest. "What?" His tone is eager, as though whatever you say might be the single most important revelation of his life.
"I see a man destined for greatness. Aegon, you are so strong, so powerful, and—" you let your voice drop into a breathy whisper, "so very wise." You emphasize each word, drawing out your compliments in a way that sends a flush of pride creeping up his neck.
Aegon shifts in his seat, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "Do you really think so, Y/N?" he asks, his voice almost boyish, seeking that reassurance from you.
"Of course I do, darling. And I would never lie to you." You reach out, letting your fingers brush against his hand in a gentle, lingering touch, just enough to make his breath hitch. "Unlike others who may have their own agendas…" You throw a quick glance toward where Alicent stands, her expression tight, lips pressed thin. The corner of your mouth twitches into a hidden smirk.
Aegon doesn’t notice. He’s too busy basking in the attention you're lavishing on him. "Mother just worries," he mumbles, though even he seems half-hearted about it.
"Worries?" You tilt your head, feigning innocence. "I think she underestimates you, my love. You’ve already proven yourself to be a far better ruler than anyone could have imagined. I can’t imagine why she continues to hover over you like you’re still a boy."
You know exactly why. Alicent cannot stand the idea of you influencing her son. It grates on her to see Aegon so smitten, so easily swayed by your honeyed words. But that’s precisely what you’re counting on.
Aegon chuckles, clearly amused. "She just doesn’t understand, does she?"
"She doesn’t," you agree, leaning in closer so your voice is only for him. "But I do." You place your hand on his chest, right over his heart. "I see you for the man you are, Aegon. A man who doesn’t need his mother whispering in his ear, telling him what to do. You’re king now. You should be able to make your own decisions. Isn’t that what you want?"
Aegon’s eyes flicker with something—desire, admiration, a need for validation. "Yes," he says, his voice firm, though you know it’s more out of wanting to please you than actual conviction. "That is what I want."
You smile, letting your fingers trail lightly down his chest before stepping back, your eyes sparkling with the satisfaction of a job well done. "Then take what’s yours, my king. Trust yourself. Trust me." You cast another glance toward Alicent, who looks like she’s about to bite through her tongue.
She’s always there, lurking like a shadow, trying to pull Aegon back into her grasp. But he slips through her fingers every time you’re around. Alicent has power, but you? You have Aegon. And he doesn’t even realize it.
You turn to face the queen mother, giving her a radiant smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. "Your Grace, you must be so proud of Aegon," you say, your voice saccharine sweet, as though you’re not fully aware of the tension between you. "He’s grown into such a strong man under your care."
Alicent stiffens, her lips twitching in a forced smile. "He has always been capable," she says, her tone clipped. "Though I think he still benefits from wise counsel."
You tilt your head, pretending to consider her words, though you already know exactly how to respond. "Of course," you agree, "but I think he’s ready to make his own choices now. Don’t you?" You let the question hang in the air, a gentle reminder that Aegon is your king now, not hers.
Alicent opens her mouth to reply, but Aegon cuts in before she can get a word out. "Mother, Y/N’s right. I don’t need to be told what to do all the time." He laughs, clearly proud of himself for standing up to her, oblivious to the fact that he’s only echoing your words.
You beam at him, eyes sparkling. "Exactly, my love. You are your own man. And no one, not even your mother, can take that from you."
Alicent’s gaze narrows, and for a moment, you think she might say something sharp, but she bites her tongue. You know it’s eating her alive inside, watching Aegon slip further under your influence, but she can’t do anything about it. Not without making herself look overbearing in front of her son.
"Come, Aegon," you say lightly, turning back to him. "Let’s take a walk in the gardens. You could use some fresh air after sitting on that throne for so long."
Aegon rises eagerly, flashing you that boyish grin that only makes him seem more malleable. "Yes, let’s."
As you link your arm through his and lead him out of the hall, you don’t bother to look back at Alicent. You can already feel the weight of her stare burning into your back. You have Aegon wrapped around your finger, and she knows it.
But as long as you continue to feed his need for affection, for someone to praise him and treat him like the king he so desperately wants to believe he is, he will never stray far from your side. And Alicent can do nothing but watch.
#house of the dragon#hotd x reader#hotd#hotd x y/n#hotd x you#aegon ii targaryen#aegon the second#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii x y/n#aegon ii x you#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen
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Written in the stars (forever on loop) chapter seven - so much for star dust
Pairing: Pre poly! Chain x reader, Wind & reader
Rating: T
Summary: While you spend some time examining everything that has come up since you fell out of the sky the boys face their own emotions, Epona throws a fit, and the pair that is Dark and Onyx scheme.
(Aka: reader breaks down, Legend is sad and has a shitty joke to cheer up Wars and Hyrule, Dink and dreader are in love and making problems, Wind proves a point, you soulmate with Twi and Wild so hard you have the same reaction about two different things, and some lady spills the "secret" that the chain has Feelings About you)
Warnings: cursing, grief, guilt, breakdowns
Other: If I missed anything, please let me know
Previous Masterlist Next
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Three days after the chain leaves, you find yourself fairing about as well as you can hope. With your inexplicable ability to read hylian, you're able to read the odd jobs papers on the town bulletin board, and you earn some rupees through that.
Spooky seems inclined to hang around you, following you through the market or the town. They even tried to follow you into the inn!
(That didn't work. The inn keeper wasn't a fan. Spooky did, however, find your room window and sleep under it.)
The good news is you get great prices when shopping with a panther at your side! Also, creeps stay further away, which is definitely a bonus.
You are fairly confident Spooky has adopted you. Because they've brought you a few birds and also like to nap across your legs. So... yeah.
But you aren't complaining. They're self-sufficient enough to hunt their own food, and you don't have to clean a panther litter box.
Researching at the library dosen’t turn up any new information on the soulmate thing. This isn't a surprise but a disappointment.
The dreams have been getting more vivid, and the only hint you've found there was in a book called 'The Magic of Dreams', but that book was poorly written and had no sources. The book claims that dreams that frequent and vivid that truly feel like memories are often from 'past lives'.
Which is ridiculous because you live on Earth, not in Hyrule. How could your past lives be in a different universe?
What are you, Hylia's favorite character or something? Are you an anime protagonist?
The biggest concern for you right now is just trying to get used to this new way of life. It's strange to be in a place where there's no light pollution, no public transport, no cameras everywhere, and no headphones.
Today, you find your afternoon spent helping a heavily pregnant woman with her laundry. Washing it in the river before wringing it our and hanging it to dry.
Her son runs around to the side with Spooky, though she has the sense to look over frequently.
"May I ask about your... panther?" The woman - Alice - asks you.
You hum, rinsing out a tunic. "Spooky is sweet. They just came up to me a few days ago. I'm not sure why, though."
You wring the garment out before setting it on the rock beside you.
"How strange. You're sure they aren't dangerous?"
You smile, "Not to your son. But to birds? Maybe."
Alice gives a nervous giggle. "If you're sure."
"I am." You say.
And really, regardless of your personal views on children who would ever knowingly let a child so close to a bloodthirsty animal? You wouldn't.
"Where did the lovely young men you came with go off to?" Alice asks as she wrings out a blanket.
You ignore the immediate and strange urge to flinch at the reminder of the boys. "I'm not too sure. They have a quest they're on."
The words strike a strange resignment within you, as if this is something you've had to say many times. (You've never said it before that you recall.)
"I see. That's a shame they were lovely."
"They are," You manage to smile.
You both return to the laundry, allowing the silence to linger in a mostly comforting way.
There's a cool breeze, and the birds sing in the trees. It's nice here.
You would still like to get back to Earth, but there are much worse places to be.
You could be stuck in a zombie apocalypse or something else, not fun and even more dangerous.
You let yourself exist here for a moment, safe and in a world you've always longed to truly see.
The air is crisp, and the grass is sift where you touch it. The river rushes easily with little forms darting about the shallows.
Spooky brushes by you, rumbling happily as they bound away again.
"Do you think you'll see those men again?" Alice asks you.
There's an instinctive 'yes' that wells up in your throat, but you bite it back anyway. You can't know that for sure.
There is no guarantee of such things.
"I'm not sure."
"Do you want to?" She asks, giving you a little smile.
Again, the instinctive agreement is something you bite back. You settle on "I don't know..."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to poke if they've been rude."
You crack a half smile, "They're good guys... I think I just make them uncomfortable for the most part."
"Really? They kept staring at you like you hold the key to their hearts, and they think they've lost you," Alice muses as she wrings out a dress.
"I'm sorry, what?" You ask breathlessly and thoroughly caught off gaurd.
What is she talking about? Every time you catch them looking at you, they look sad, angry, calculating, or comcerningly polite. How is she saying they looked at you any other way?
Is she imagining things? Is she lying?
"Those boys couldn't keep their eyes off you, you'd look away, and they'd stare at you like they're lost." She laughs a little, sounding as if she believes herself.
"Oh..."
If that's the case, it is probably just because you're a sore reminder of their soulmate. That... explains a lot, actually.
Hopefully, Wind hasn't lost that soulmate yet and never will. That kid has already done so much.
As you and Alice finish the laundry, you find yourself facing the pile of things you keep putting off in your mind.
Once the laundry is done, you accept the two blue rupees with a 'thank you' before leading Spooky across the little foot bridge to go sit on the stone bench with the bird bath beside it.
The bench sits in a park area of sorts, but it's empty for now, so you will use it to let your mind process... everything.
First of all, you are in Hyrule! A place that less than two weeks ago was no more than a setting for a popular video game franchise!
You fell out of the sky! Miraculously didn't have a bunch of injuries from that, and you met nine different Links.
Who falls out of the sky (unharmed!) and meets nine different people from their favorite video game franchise?
You apparently...but you also have some sort of Disney princess thing going on because you have a panther that has picked you as it's person.
None of this makes sense. It feels a lot more like a fever dream than reality.
If you're going to be honest, it feels a lot more like a fanfiction written by someone who has a fixation on hurt / comfort media.
But...
It is real.
You can't place why, but you know that this is real against all logic.
Against all odds, this is reality.
How the fuck are you even here though?!
Why you?
Why now?
Who brought you here?
Why can you read everything? It's in a fictional language! Except... it isn't fictional.
If Hyrule is real... are all the other fictional worlds real too?
Okay- nope! You can't think about that right now.
One crisis at a time, two max. Your crisis docket is chock full today, we can try again tomorrow.
Fuck... Hyrule is real, you've met nine different Links, magic is real, and you have no idea what's going on.
Maybe this fits in with the multiverse theory. Your brain woukd like it to.
Okay...
Multiverse... We can say that's real here maybe? You are in the world of Zelda
But... there's also those dreams and half memories that have been taunting and confusing you to no end.
Those fucking dreams and half memories!
Oh!
You want answers for that!
Why in the name of literally any and every deity are you experiencing half memories and dreams of men who can barely stand you?!
Even as creative as your brain gets that dosen’t account for how vivid and achingly real they feel.
The way you hear their voices speak in your mind as if they hold you as the most important person to them... hurts.
It hurts a lot.
You want someone to love you the way they love you in your weird half memories. It would be wonderful!
But that's not reality.
Sure, you definitely had a crush on the Links growing up, you aren't the only one. You have always thought them good looking, strong, honorable, and maybe a little mischievous depending on the source material.
You can admit that the real deal is also crush worthy, but it's hard to feel that way when everyone keeps you at arm's length.
The dreams make it harder than anything though. Living through scenarios where you are romantically involved, even the bad dreams, make it hard to remember the truth when you wake up.
You swear Hyrule called you Honeybee when he healed you...
Legend called you Trinket when he gave you that potion...
What do those even mean?
What are you supposed to do?
All you want is to go find them.
There's a soul deep ache to be with them but you can't place why.
Are you horrible?
Is your brain making up strange dreams?
Or worse... are you somehow reliving memories of the soulmate they always lose? Have you somehow been cursed to do that?
Did you do something to make that happen?
Is it like a ghost situation?
You groan, putting your face in your hands.
"Fuck."
The sentiment isn't nearly strong enough, but you don't know what else you can say. (Double fuck?)
Spooky comes over and nudges your arm with their nose, making an inquisitive sound.
You look over and give a straining smile. "Hey, pumpkin... I don't suppose you know what's happening?"
Spooky dosen’t answer, but they do push your arms away so they can put their head on your knee.
They stare up at you with bright eyes.
You huff a little but scratch behind their ear. "I don't guess you could tell me anyway."
Spooky just purrs, leaning into your fingers.
You laugh a little, only half fragile.
Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you see a dark figure move, but when you turn your head to check, no one is there. How odd.
No stranger than the rest of your life lately, maybe it's that shadow that took on those lizafos for you? Which...
Honestly that experience is another thing you don't understand but you can't find the energy to spiral about it.
Maybe it was Four's shadow? Or is his shadow still dead?
Oh shit- the heroes are not only real people, but you played through their trauma like it was a game to entertain you! You know so much more about their lives than you should, and it feels sick.
Knowing what you know makes your skin crawl and your throat feel thick.
What will they even say if they ever find out?
Spooky nudges you again to get your attention. They seem to be trying to cheer you up, which is sweet.
"Thank you, pumpkin..."
-------
"Epona, I have had about enough of your sass," Twilight grits as he tries yet again to lead his mare to cross the bridge, pronouncing ever word in a slow, steady pace that is engineered so he can't possibly be misunderstood.
Epona stands firm, refusing to move for the seventh time. She gives him her best 'unimpressed horse' whinny.
Wind snorts, "Do you want a hand?"
"I doubt anyone could get her to move," Twilight manages before he grits his teeth again.
Wild sighs, "What's going on with her anyway?"
"She's been like this since we left town." Four muses, "Did she want more rest?"
"You broke her horsey heart making her leave (Y/n)," Wind rolls his eyes, "She's just upset."
"Sailor, if you know so much how about you get her across the bridge?" Twilight asks in the same slow and clear manner.
Wind, just snorts, holding his hand out for the reigns. "Maybe I will."
Twilight passes the youngest hero the reigns and crosses his arms. The rancher is willing to bet money that this fails.
After all, the kid grew up by the sea, horses aren't his specialty.
Wind takes the reigns before bending down and ripping some grass out of the ground. The teen offers the grass to Epona, roots and all.
Epona takes the grass and begins to chew it, seemingly accepting the bribe.
Wind starts walking, gently pulling at the reigns. "Come on, Epona. We're just going to cross the bridge okay?"
Epona chews her grass, not moving but not fighting either.
Twilight smirks.
"Come on, pretty girl. Help me prove rancher wrong." Wind coaxes gently before he clicks his tongue twice.
Epona does move this time, slow and obviously unhappy, but she moves.
Wind leads Epona across the bridge while Twilight clenches his jaw.
The rancher is facing the fact that his mare is apparently a traitor.
"That's a good girl," Wind praises, patting Epona's neck. "Good job, sweetheart."
The pirate is not above stealing the name you use for the horse, and it seems to please the mare so he won't stop anytime soon. He likes proving a point after all.
Legend snickers, "She must be mad at you, cowboy."
"Shut up," Twilight hisses.
Time snorts and Wild just laughs.
Sky pats Twilight's shoulder.
Four and Hyrule share a look, biting back smiles.
"All you did was bribe her, sailor," Twilight says as he crosses the bridge with Wild and Legend on his heels.
The rancher crosses his arms as he moves, only a little sore about being proven wrong.
Warriors, already across the bridge, laughs as he pets Epona. "You could have bribed her too."
"Shut it, city boy." Twilight huffs.
Wild - the traitor - laughs at that, snapping a picture on his slate.
There's a distinct sense of fear that crawls up the spine if every hero followed by a ground shaking roar.
"Fuck." Wild hisses, whipping around.
Twilight looks up and sees two gleeocks and promptly thinks 'fuck ain't enough of a sentiment'.
"Do we have to fight?" Wind groans.
Time shoots the pirate a deadpan look. "Yes, we do."
"That shadow is getting more vicious," Twilight draws lowly as he grips his sword hilt.
Wild and Legend both start sending arrows at the beasts and the fight commences.
Twilight dodges out of the way of lightning and hears an explosion in the sky. He supposes Wild found the bomb arrows.
Probably good.
But then black blood drips from the sky.
"Double fuck!" Wild hisses.
"Shiver me timbers!" Wind shrieks, choosing the moment to be obnoxious while not cursing becomes he's mad at Time.
Twilight takes a second to be grateful you aren't here for this before he knocks Legend out of the way and deflects a lightning ball with a wooden shield.
The fight descends into adrenaline fueled instincts.
The boys lose track of their own movements, they can't see keep track if others.
By the time it's over, they're all half dead and grateful for potions.
-------
Dark sighs heavily where he sits, crossing his arms as he glares at the wall from within the shadows.
"Are you seriously pouting right now?" Onyx chuckles as they look over from where they are currently rearranging your things to be easier to find.
They aren't doing that because they like you or anything, the chaos was just pissing them off.
"I do not pout, I am made of evil," Dark pouts harder.
Onyx snorts, "That is absolutely bullshit, viper. Knock it off."
"It is not bullshit."
"You know how I feel about being lied to," Onyx warns sweetly as they finish tidying your things.
They set the little seagull figurine in the back, unsure why you like it to much.
Dark gives a slow, heavy sigh. "It should not be so difficult to end nine lives. You understand that, don't you, darling lamb?"
Onyx rolls their eyes and turns to look their lover over. "Can't you focus on the challenge instead of a short term disappointment? Where's my vicious man?"
"My darling lamb, am I not allowed to be frustrated?"
"You can be frustrated, but you have a habit of wallowing in it." Onyx points out, awars of the way their lover gets.
"I do not wallow."
"Dark."
"I only wallow the acceptable amount."
Onyx gives a thoroughly unimpressed look.
Dark opens his arms, "I am mourning a great plan, I demand you comfort me."
They roll their eyes, but they go over anyway. They always will. They will always go to home when he asks.
Onyx collapses into Dark's arms carelessly, more than trusting that he will keep them both upright. It's his job anyway as the one demanding this.
They press their face against his chest, listening to his heart. "You'll get them next time, viper."
Dark pulls them close, one hand on the back of their thigh and the other on their shoulder. "I will eviscerate them."
"It was a good plan," Onyx says softly. "It would have taken one or two of them alone out."
"They're still alive."
"I know. But with (Y/n) out of the way you can attack without fear."
"That's true..."
"Why don't I make a plan? You need a break and I'm bored." Onyx muses, ideas already half spinning through their mind.
Dark grins sharper, half smitten and half cruel. "I do love your twisted mind."
Onyx hums, pressing a kiss to his throat. "You flatter me."
"I do not. I just adore your plans."
Onyx grins. "Good. I am amazing."
"You are. My darling lamb."
"What can we do about getting (Y/n) out of this time and somewhere else?"
"Whatever you want, I will make happen." He promises them easily, without thought or deceit.
-------
Legend sits away from the group but is careful to make sure he's close enough to Hyrule and Warriors to watch them after the disaster that the Gleeocks wrought. He is incredibly grateful that you are not with them right now, it means you are safe.
That's what matters anyway.
He misses you.
By the Golden Three, he misses you so much.
You are safe though, in a town with nice people and away from all the tense behaviors his brothers exhibit to you.
Legend could kick himself for letting his grief cloud his judgments and treating anyonethe way he was treating you before. It's only made worse knowing he took his grief for his soulmate... out on his soulmate.
He is such an asshole.
Fuck.
"I still don't understand why their magic has to be identical," Hyrule says to Warriors.
Legend swallows and turns his attention to the conversation between the traveler and the captain.
Warriors sighs, "Does it matter?"
"You don't get it. Their magic was a perfect copy. Magic is always unique to an individual. Even similar magic signatures have some variation."
Warriors rubs his temples. "Hyrule, you know as well as I do that the goddesses aren't that kind."
Hyrule sighs, rubbing his arm absently. "I guess..."
"You're looking for our soulmate, and you probably always will. I understand, I do it too, but you'll run yourself into the grave if you aren't careful," the captain warns with a heavy tone as he looks up to the stars.
Legend bites the inside of his cheek. It's just one more secret he holds, and it's to save his brothers the same grief he faces.
You don't even seem to know.
It takes everything he has to keep from spilling the truth. If he tells them, after the momentary joy, they too will have to know they lost you. Again.
Legend can't do that to them.
"Isn't there anything that (Y/n) did that made you think they were really our soulmate?" Hyrule asks with a weak voice as he stares into the fire.
Warriors lets out a bitter chuckle. "Almost everything. The day they saw the lizafos before we did? They shoved Wind behind them without a shield or sword to their name. It was a reflex."
"Oh."
"That's how I lost them, to an ambush... their reactions are identical, Rulie... But (Y/n) isn't Dove."
Hyrule looks to the captain with a look that is all but a shattering heart. "How do you know?"
"Because we aren't that lucky, and they've never said anything about knowing a Link."
Hyrule swallows hard, hugging himself tightly. "You're probably right..."
Legend sighs, shoving down the words that want to come out. He stands and walks to the traveler's side before he sits back down.
Warriors just raises a brow.
Legend wraps an arm around Hyrule's shoulders, pulling the other into his side.
Hyrule leans into Legend.
"Finally joining the fun?" Warriors challenges.
Legend scoffs, "You weren't having fun, pretty boy. You were having a wake."
The captain rolls his eyes. "Like you can be more cheerful."
Legend snorts, "Is that a challenge?"
"Yes."
"Fine. Knock knock."
Hyrule stifles a laugh, side eyeing his predecessor.
"You're fucking kidding me," Warriors huffs incredulously.
"I said 'knock knock'," Legend raises a brow.
The captain lets out a theatrical sigh, "Who's there?"
Legend gives a grin, "Boo."
"Boo who?" Warriors asks as he crosses his arms.
"Aw, don't cry pretty boy," Legend coos in a sarcastic tone, "It's just a joke."
Hyrule laughs, swatting at Legend playfully. "That was horrible! Jesus Christ, Ledge."
"How did you manage to be a prick through a knock knock joke?" Warriors asks, sounding rather impressed.
"I'm just that great," Legend smirks.
What he dosen’t tell them is that the joke is one he used on you back when you were kids whenever you were down. Back then, when you were both still children, the joke always got at least a little amusement from you.
He finds that as much as he avoids the joke because of the memory it holds... Legend dosen’t mind sharing it now with his brothers.
You would certainly approve.
"That was ridiculous," Warriors informs him.
Legend shrugs, "You just have bad taste."
"I do not!" Warriors scoffs.
Hyrule snickers, "You so do.'
Legend lets the two argue as they hop from topic to topic, taking pride in the fact he got them to stop poking an emotional wound that will never quite heal. He just wants to help them.
He just wants them to be okay.
He already failed Hyrule horribly just by not finishing Ganon for good...
Legend can't fail the traveler again.
He can't fail any of them.
You would be doing everything you can for them if you were aware, and so it's Legend's job to do so in your steed.
Hopefully you're okay in that town.
Maybe... maybe he could go visit? Just to check.
His Pegasus boots would make it easier.
No.
The best choice Legend can make is to let you go... so he will.
Legend will let you go, and he will stay away because that's what's best for you. That's what matters.
-------
Next
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Delicate part.1
Description: As a young knight, Ser Gwayne Hightower journeys to King's Landing to take part in his first tourney. Eager to see his beloved sister Alicent and prove himself to his distant father, Gwayne finds himself enamoured by Alicent's friend.
Part 2
Writer's note: Elizabeth here. I thought I would try my hand at writing a story for the icon that is Gwayne Hightower. The reader/Y/N of the story will be on the asexual spectrum.
Warnings: Female reader/Y/N, but I won't be going into details about their appearance. Team Green sentiments. Positive sentiments towards Alicent (I can't help it, I love her).
The sun shone over King’s Landing, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of salt and spice from the port and markets of Fleabottom across the air, as a young knight rode towards the Red Keep. As the imposing structure of the Red Keep came into view, Ser Gwayne Hightower struggled to fully suppress the trepidation he felt as he approached the entrance and was hailed by two guards.
“Who goes there?”
Pushing his nervousness as a young knight of but ten and seven years aside, he schooled his expression into one conveying the confidence of a knight far beyond his years. Arriving at the King’s stronghold to compete in his first tournament against other knights, not just bannermen of the Hightowers from Oldtown, he attempted to conceal any signs of apprehension from his features.
“You may announce the arrival of Ser Gwayne Hightower, son of the Hand of the King, my good man, and do make haste about it. The journey has been long, and I would benefit from the illustrious hospitality of your King.” He addressed the guards before him, with not a small degree of arrogance, a smirk on his face.
Presenting his patent of nobility, illustrated with the green and black sigil of his House, with a flourish, he nodded respectfully towards the guards as they granted him admittance to the Red Keep. Riding forth with an air of confidence he did not fully feel, an illusion he was no stranger to assuming, he surveyed the vastness of the King’s stronghold. Meeting the gaze of any knight’s he encountered on his progress with a jaunty smirk and nod in their direction, he dismounted from his horse gracefully, before entrusting it to the care of a stable boy, ruffling the boy’s hair as he did so.
His first order of business was to locate his dear sister, who he had not seen for many months now, but who he sorely missed, living so far away from her as he did in his father’s seat in Oldtown.
Gwayne made his way through the Keep, familiar with the route to the courtyard where he expected to find his dear sister, knowing from her letters and his previous visits it to be the place she often sought repose from the pressures of Court.
Striding along the balustrade overhanging the courtyard, he knew he was right when he heard the sweet sound of his sister's laughter, accompanied by that of another's. He promptly increased the pace of his strides in anticipation of their happy reunion after months apart. His Lord father's decision to take Alicent with him to King's Landing, leaving him to preside over their seat in Oldtown, had been a source of pain for them both. Two years her senior, Gwayne doted on his sister, even more so after the untimely death of their beloved mother when Alicent was but ten and twelve years old. Gwayne had always sought to compensate for the loss of their mother's loving presence with his attentive care and love towards his sister, something his own father was unwilling or unable to provide them with. Alicent had clung to him and wept when she was leaving High Tower and he was scarcely able to suppress his own emotions, as he tried to comfort her, promising to write to her everyday and to visit when he could.
Alicent had written to Gwayne immediately to inform him that the King was to hold a tourney, asking him to arrive at the Keep a few weeks before the event, so that they could extend their time together. Gwayne had sent his acquiescence to her request by raven the next day, rejoicing at the thought of reuniting with his beloved sister and escaping the suffocating halls of his ancestral home. In the absence of the warmth of his late mother's love and his sister's laugh, as he chased her through the halls, his home had the ominous feeling of being haunted by shadows of long past happiness.
Hearing more laughter, he looked over the balustrade onto the courtyard below, expecting to call out in greeting to Alicent. He paused, however, when instead of Alicent, he saw another young lady standing in the middle of the courtyard by the white trunk of a tree. Her eyes were closed and she smiled as she counted down from ten, before opening them rapidly and looking about her.
"I'm coming to get you, Alicent!"
He was arrested in his movements by the sight of her, struck by her pretty features. A smile grew on his own face as he watched their game continue. His heart was warmed to see that his sister had not been without friendship in King's Landing, and this warm feeling extended to the lady searching for his sister below.
He quietly chuckled in amusement as he saw the girl search this way and that for Alicent, and he slowly made his descent to the courtyard, careful not to make too much noise, and alert her to his presence.
Approaching the lady, who now searched for Alicent behind the trunk of the tree, with careful steps he bent his torso to lower his head next to hers and whisper conspiratorially near her ear.
"I do believe, my dear Lady, that my sister is to be found yonder, by that bushel."
Surprised by his presence, the lady let out a high pitched shriek and stumbled back a step, tripping over a raised stump of the tree.
His eyes widening in alarm, not having truly intended to frighten her, he swiftly reached his arm out to encircle her waist and prevent her from falling. Holding her hand in his free hand, he looked into her eyes with concern.
"Are you well, my Lady? I apologise for startling you."
A brief look of confusion passed over the lady's expression before she processed what had happened, and it was was replaced by a stern one. Holding onto his elbows to right herself, she responded with a chastising tone, promptly removing herself from his hold
"I don't know what you mean by sneaking up behind me, Ser."
Seeing that she was unharmed by his fumble, and seeking to restore himself to her good opinion, he rallied himself.
With a charming grin, he elegantly bowed before her, one hand on his heart and the other taking hers confidently in his to plant a gentle kiss on it.
"Please accept this Knight's humble apologies, my dear Lady. I had only meant to aid you in your game."
He frowned slightly as the lady quickly withdrew her hand from his, fearing he had really offended her.
"Spoil it, more likely" Alicent laughed, emerging from behind the bushel Gwayne had indicated a moment ago.
Pulling his eyes away from those of the beautiful lady before him to meet his sister's sally, Gwayne opened his arms out to her, "sister!"
Alicent needed no further invitation before she ran into his arms and he lifted her up, spinning her half a turn, before returning her to the ground and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
Once again turning with what he hoped was a winning smile to the lady before them, Gwayne sought to invest as much charm as he could into his voice.
"I have yet to be introduced to your lovely friend, sister."
Looking up at him with her own stern look, Alicent playfully swiped at his shoulder.
"You have already made a mess of that, brother. You half frightened Lady Y/N to death when you rudely interrupted."
With an exaggerated sigh, Gwayne responded to his sister's accusation.
"I know I am the basest of villains and I will put myself to the sword forthwith if the Lady Y/N will not forgive me my crime." He rejoined, solemnly, bending his head in mock dejection, even as he really did feel contrite to have frightend the young lady.
Slapping him on the back of the head, which had Gwayne holding his neck in mock pain, Alicent pressed her index finger to his chest and warned him.
"Y/N won't be charmed by your antics, Gwayne. I have warned her of them beforehand."
Smiling indulgently down at his sister before looking over at the lady Y/N once again, who he rejoiced to see smiling in amusement at the two siblings, he held his hand to his heart dramatically, as if her words were an arrow through it.
"You wound me sister. I was under the impression you had asked me here to be your champion at the upcoming tourney, precisely because I am the most charming of knights. I hadn't realised I needed to be good with the lance too. An unfortunate oversight. I had thought my charming smile would be enough to fend the other knights off."
The laughter of the ladies at his antics sounded like the delicate chime of bells to him, and he was elated to have entertained them both and, hopefully, returned himself to the good favour of the pretty lady before him.
Meeting her gaze with his own, a softened expression on it, which communicated his contrition for having startled her, despite his jesting, his heart fluttered as she met his gaze with an amused smile.
"I'm afraid you are to meet a swift and brutal defeat, Ser, if your charm is the only weapon in your arsenal."
Laughing heartily at her wit, he winked in response.
"Fear not, sweet ladies, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, should my smile not be enough to blind the other knights. Although I am convinced that it will be."
As introductions were made, the three sat together underneath the russett foliage of the tree above them, exchanging recollections from their childhoods and talking excitedly of the plans they had to make the most of their time together before the tourney.
After an hour or so had passed of Gwayne delighting in amusing the ladies with his, admittedly, embellished tales of gallantry and heroism, his face fell slightly.
The sparkle in his eye diminishing, he turned to Alicent.
"With regret, my dear ladies, I have tarried too long in your sweet company and must present myself to my father."
Alicent looked commiseratingly at her brother, knowing as she did how little her Lord Father cared for his son's presence.
"I'm sure father will be most pleased to see you. In any case, I certainly am."
Looking up at his sister from his somewhat reclined position along the grass, in front of the two ladies, his expression softened and he squeezed her hand affectionately before jumping up.
Bowing before the ladies respectfully, he wished them a good afternoon before turning on his heel in the direction of his father's apartments, little expecting a happy reunion.
Otto Hightower's reception of his son was as cold as he had expected it to be but, mercifully, short. He had only expressed his expectation that his son would perform to the honour of their House at the upcoming tourney, and shown him his living quarters, which were along the hall from Alicent's.
At dinner, Gwayne and Alicent had only been able to exchange glances at one another in solidarity. He had sought her out in her own apartments afterwards to catch up on the events they had missed in each other's lives over the course of months of separation.
With a boyish timidity, Gwayne asked Alicent if he might join her in her activities the following day, outside of his own training schedule. Looking indulgently at her brother and taking his hand in hers, she responded in a light, jesting tone.
"Why on earth do you think I asked you here, if not to spend time with me, you fool?"
Smiling at her in earnest now, Gwayne playfully tapped his chin.
"As I said, sister, my charming smile and dashing manner will be your champions at the tourney."
Gwayne allowed himself to fall backwards against the chaise he was sitting on as his sister playfully pushed him in the chest and rolled her eyes at him.
Smirking at his sister, Gwayne posed his next question with a similarly jesting tone, which he hoped concealed his vested interest in her answer.
"And will your lovely friend be joining us?" He asked, a glint in his eye.
Alicent swatted him on the shoulder.
"Y/N has been a good friend to me. The days have not been half so long or lonely since I met her. I do hope you two will be good friends. I’ve told her so much about you."
"Nothing good, I hope," he smirked. "I have a reputation as a shameless charmer to maintain."
"Be good, Gwayne. She won't fall for your charm."
Rising to bid Gwayne good night as she left the room, Alicent did not hear Gwayne murmur quietly, "we'll see about that."
Part 2 up
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#house of the dragon#house of the dragon x reader#gwayne hightower fanfic#gwayne hightower x reader#gwayne hightower#gwayne hightower oneshot#gwayne hightower imagine#gwayne hightower series#hotd x reader#hotd#hotd imagine#hotd fanfiction#hotd fanfic#alicent hightower#freddie fox
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Daenerys and Queenship In ASOIAF
The world of ASOIAF explores the subject of leadership in a wide range of official and unofficial capacities. Daenerys Targaryen specifically is a character used to explore the unique types of queenship, alongside her narrative foil Cersei Lannister. Dany fits the role of multiple kinds of queens. The roles of these different types of queens are so different that they really shouldn’t have the same word describing them. As such, they impact Dany in very different ways.
Queen Consort
The first type of queen Daenerys becomes is a queen consort or khaleesi as Khal Drogo’s wife. The consort doesn’t wield power in their own right. What influence they have is completely dependent on their spouse.
Dany has even less power in her situation since most consorts come from a powerful, ruling family, while the power of her family died before she was born. For instance, consorts like Cersei Lannister, Margaery Tyrell, and Alicent Hightower bring with them the power of their families. That’s the benefit the monarchs had in marrying them to begin with, but that power also gives them a level of protection and influence beyond their husbands. We see Cersei wield that influence with her own guard in King’s Landing and she’s able to protect the reigns of her children through father’s armies. On the other side of that, the wealth, manpower, and resources of Margaery’s family makes her a desirable match for multiple kings while making it difficult for Cersei to remove her directly when she becomes threatened by her. This is a power Daenerys cannot wield since most of her family is dead and they have no land, wealth, manpower, or vassals to support her. She has one knight she thinks she can rely on (who is spying on her) and the guards provided by her husband. She is also younger than most queen consorts as she is sold at 13-years-old as a child bride with no family and political support. In that way she is set apart as a less powerful queen consort than the typical ones seen in the series.
The primary role of any consort is to give the monarch children. They are expected to give them an heir, a spare heir or two, and daughters who might be married to form alliances. Though that last duty isn’t addressed within the Dothraki culture and may not be a priority for them. An additional role for the consort includes appearing at royal events like feasts, ceremonies, and royal progresses as visual support for the monarch or even in the monarch’s place at times. Among female consorts, she would run a separate household from her husband (we see a simplified version of this with Dany’s handmaidens and khas) and could arrange marriages for the women in her household.
Depending on their relationship with the monarch, the consort might act as an unofficial advisor for their spouse and influence their policy. We see Dany doing this or trying to do this with Drogo. For instance, though it was through her decree that her brother (who might be considered part of her household since he has nothing of his own) not be allowed to ride, she has to convince her husband to re-establish Viserys’ status as a rider. Later, after her brother dies, she attempts to convince Drogo to invade Westeros to claim the Iron Throne for Rhaego. This initially fails and is only successful after a thwarted assassination attempt is made on Dany and the baby. Only then is Drogo willing to go to war against the people who tried to kill his son and wife and to make Rhaego king. After a battle against the Lhazareen, Dany uses her guards and her status as Drogo’s wife to stop the rapes that happen in the aftermath. She takes them under her protection and attempts to place them in the best positions she can within the confines of Dothraki culture. Though even this act is only possible with the agreement of her husband.
Other than producing an heir and passively influencing policy, the most impactful role a consort might have would be with charity. They were expected to give money to and organize charitable works. They might even make clothes for the poor and personally hand out alms.
The other queen consorts in the main series include Cersei Lannister, Selyse Florent, Alannys Harlaw, Margaery Tyrell, Dalla, and Jeyne Westerling.
Queen Regnant
The queen regnant is a queen who rules in her own right. She is not just the wife of the monarch or the mother of the monarch. She is the monarch.
The difference between this type of queen and the others needs to be emphasized because all the types of queens are often grouped together as though they were the same. But a queen regnant is far different from the others because her power is rooted in herself, not in a husband or child.
Like ruling kings, a queen regnant would hold court, listen to petitions, create policy, grant governmental appointments, diplomacy between both subjects and foreign leadership, trade disputes, land disputes, taxes, dealing with or assigning someone else to deal with maintaining food, clothing, craft, and weapon supplies, etc. It really goes on and on. It’s not just sitting on a throne and going to balls. Though that is part of it as well to maintain the visual image of power and wealth.
Daenerys spends most of the novels as a monarch. From the time Drogo dies all the way through A Dance With Dragons. We see her give those who remain of her husband’s khalasar the choice on whether to follow her or not to follow her. Those who chose to remain with her became her subjects. From then on, her choices became those of any good monarch: how to best serve her people. As she leads them, we see her making all kinds of administrative decisions to benefit her people. When they arrive in Vaes Tolorro, she immediately starts making the city habitable, secure and productive. While making military decisions, she takes the effects her choices will have on her people into account (a significant reason she took Meereen was because her people would have starved on the march without the resources inside the city). Once Dany becomes the Queen of Meereen, she regularly holds court to hear the issues of the people, she addresses food shortages, attempts to make allies, engages with ambassadors, arranges for medical aid, strategizes for war, negotiates for peace, etc. Daenerys is a queen regnant who actively fills her role.
The other queen regnants are potential ones Asha Greyjoy, who campaigned to claim her father’s throne, and Myrcella Baratheon, was the center of a plot to name her queen over Tommen and who will be queen after he dies.
Queen Regent
This is a type of queen Daenerys never is. A regent is a person chosen to rule for a monarch who is too young, is absent, or incapacitated. A queen who is a regent is either a queen consort given the regency by her husband who will be out of the country, a consort whose husband is too sick to rule, or a dowager queen whose underage child is now the monarch and she managed to secure the regency.
The queen regent of the series is Cersei Lannister, the queen Martin wrote as an intentional narrative foil for Daenerys. She encounters many of the same issues as Dany, both being women in administrative roles who endured exploitation from their family members and abuse from their husbands. Through their choices, we see how different they are despite their similar situations. They’re clearly set up as foils not only to explore different types of women in leadership positions but to also build up to their confrontation later in the series when Dany is revealed to be the younger, more beautiful queen Cersei has been prophesied to fear.
Queen Dowager
The queen dowager is the widow of a king. Along with being queen regnant in her own right, Daenerys is also a dowager queen as Khal Drogo’s widow. This kind of queen can maintain a position of influence if she’s the mother of the next monarch (see: queen regent) or they might be put into retirement, with a high ranking title and possibly an allowance (see: Alicent Hightower after the Dance of the Dragons in Fire and Blood). A title that may come alongside the queen dowager is that of queen mother. This title is exactly what it sounds like: a woman who held the title of queen and is now the mother of the monarch. If the mother of the monarch never held the title of queen, she would not be referred to by this title.
The position the Dothraki culture has for widowed khaleesi is with the dosh khaleen in Vaes Dothrak. The women in that group are forced to stay in the sacred city and are taken care of by slaves. They also maintain a high status and have the gift of prophecy. Despite being a widowed khaleesi, Daenerys refuses the position expected for her and becomes a ruling khaleesi or queen regnant instead. But a vision she saw in the House of the Undying suggests that she will go to the dosh khaleen as part of uniting the Dothraki.
The other queen dowagers of the series include Cersei, Margaery, Alannys, and Jeyne.
#daenerys targaryen#asoiafedit#asoiaf#asoiafdaenerys#daenerystargaryenedit#gotdaenerystargaryen#targaryensource#iheartgot#gameofthronesdaily#usergif#userbbelcher#userstream#tvgifs#tvedit#literatureedit
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𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.
Cw: fem!reader, cisgender female reader (I'm sorry mascs and nbs, I'll make something for you later) incest/targcest implied for later, platonic and romantic yanderes, yandere EVERYONE x reader, here's a list of every character that will be featured (not all of them are romantic):Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhea Royce, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Haelena Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Laena Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon
Notes: I go by a very strange mix of the series and the books, I haven't seen the series in a while so the timeline will most likely be a mess. I'd like this to be a series but I've been incredibly busy. Extra: at first I thought about making reader Mysaria's daughter, but this is a self insert, so it's best that you look however you like, leaving the mother anonymous. The only physical reference I'll make will be reader's silver hair
>After Rhaenyra was declared the heir of the iron throne, Daemon, insulted, flew away with his mistress, the white worm, who he would conceive a child with, even asking for a dragon egg for the prince or princess to come
>However, Viserys demanded him to go back to his home and wife, he sent Mysaria off to lys, where the stress of a storm in the trip back made her lose the baby
>Daemon never fully forgave his brother, and this left him less than eager to have another child anytime soon
>So imagine his surprise, when 7 years later, there's a rumour spreading in flea bottom like wildfire, about a girl carrying Daemon's bastard
>Many women had claimed to carry a royal child before, thinking this could give them any sort of prize, so Daemon didn't think much of it at first, but when he heard her name, he recognized her as one of his previous "favorites" who disappeared without a trace months ago
>She was said to have taken residence in Essos, and Daemon went on dragonback to find her. She was from the free cities, five years older than Daemon, and a heart as cold as a northern winter, or so they said. She was not expecting Daemon, running away to have the child in peace
>"They said I was too far along when I found out, moon tea would've only harmed me. Besides, it was lucrative in its own way" said the woman. Daemon did little to suppress the disgust on his face when thinking about her being defiled by other men while carrying his dragonseed babe
>She wanted no part in the baby's life, and Daemon, in his particular fashion, informed her he'd take the youngling as soon as it's out of her, may even pay her a few coins to make sure she won't do much as think about keeping it
>A few months passed, and he returned to king's landing with a babe in arms. Demanding an egg in honor of the birth of princess Y/N Targaryen
>This egg would later hatch into the dragon Dagahrion, the princess' bound dragon
>The court was a hot mess, according to Otto, he wouldn't be surprised if the young creature lost its left ear because of all the gossip and ill-speaking of her, just like her father. This was a scandal, considering he was still married to Rhea Royce, who he gravely dishonored time and time again, Daemon was always shameless, but this was crossing a limit, even for him, to call his bastard a princess while refusing to lay with his own rightful wife, disgraceful
>Daemon tried to use you as yet another attempt to get his brother to annul his marriage to "the bronze bitch", but even when he failed, he did everything in his power to legitimize his daughter
>Despite everyone on the council telling Viserys how foolish it'd be to do it, making enemies out of the Royce house, further insulting Rhea, and putting a whoreborn on the line of succession (no matter how far from the throne), all it took was a little yawn and the bright twinkle of your eyes to make him melt, he is fully committed to his role of uncle, even as a doting grandfather, considering his father passed long before her birth
>Viserys sent Daemon back to the Vale, saying he should do his best to give lady Rhea an heir, to make up for the slip and avoid causing the Targaryen house any more trouble. Viserys, for totally not selfish reasons wanted to keep the princess in KL, saying Rhea should not be made to raise his bastard
>Daemon said he'd rather be exiled again than to leave his daughter in Hightower hands to go try to fuck his wife. Viserys was greatly offended by the implication that the Hightowers truly ruled and schemed while he reigned
>To his outmost displeasure, he finally had to let his niece go to the Vale with her father
>Rhea loved you as soon as she set eyes on you, completely separating you from your father's actions, and seeing you as a pure angel in this horrible situation
>But it was so difficult with Daemon around, she just wanted to whisk you away and love you, she'd pray to the mother to be able to breastfeed you, crying when she heard you wail in frustration of your hunger, since it took several wet nurses to get you to drink milk
>But Daemon was always around to remind her you were not hers, that he considered her lowly, not worthy of you. He'd correct you when you learning to speak, and dared to refer to her as "mama"
>It was said the ground of the vale would shake upon them yelling when fighting over you
>But this joy to Rhea was short lived, as Daemon sent you to KL when he had to fight in the war of the stepstones, saying the "nest of vipers" was more deserving of you than she was. When you were three, your step mother had an accident while hawking, many said Daemon orderded for her to be poisoned when she was bed bound, others said the distress of your parting made her lose skill
>It was Viserys greatest pleasure when you were left at his care, his adorable baby niece was now an infant, and somehow you were even more charming, being able to speak, sing and walk
>To no one's surprise, Viserys' reaction was not generalized, with many not being keen on having a bastard running around the castle playing with the princes, by that point, Aegon was 8, Haelena was 7, Aemond was 5, and Daeron was 1, and almost all of them could see people treated you differently
>Rhaenyra was welcoming, baby Lucerys had just been born, and she was delighted to have a girl to spoil, it only helped that Jacaerys loved you as well, and would often fight his uncles for the chance to be with you
>Alicent in particular was not pleased with your presence, thinking you were an uncomfortable conversation to have with her children, especially resentful of the fact her youngest son would be attached at the hip with you
>To Otto, you were an annoyance, a living proof of Daemon's pure disregard for the norms, however, he could rest at night knowing you were ninth in the line of succession, and a girl, who would someday marry a son of a minor house and be too busy bearing children to present a claim to the iron throne
>Even though the Hightowers were tougher than the king, they did eventually succumb to your spell, and became just as enamoured with you as everyone else, in their minds, you were almost a product of spontaneous generation, completely ignoring your shameful father and prostitute mother
>Your arrival also caused the birth of Lucerys (who was again, born with a striking resemblance of Harwin Strong, just like his older brother) to be less gossiped about, after all, your case was much more interesting
>Some people in court starting referring to you as "The princess of flea bottom", this title costed quite a few tongues around the castle, ordered by Viserys, happily approved by Otto
>The Hightower hand was careful not to show too much affection to you, as it was improper and he knew how zealous was Viserys when it came to you
>Aegon was "already too old to be playing" in his words, and kept his distance from you, you reminded him to much of his sticky handed little brothers
>But as if you knew, you chased him around and praised him for his knightly demeanor (in your eyes) and how he's just like the heroes in Viserys' stories. It was not a long time before Aegon now appointed himself as your guard, watching like a hawk over his brothers and nephews when he thought they were being too rough on you
>Haelena loves you from the start, sees you as a little doll, she loves showing you her bugs, you're the only one who listens to her attentively
>Jacaerys and Daeron are only a year old, but always search for you, you think they're cute, something that spikes jealousy on Aemond, he wants you to think of him as someone worthy of admiration, like you see his older brother, he'd even accept being cute in your eyes, but he has none of those traits to appeal to you. You love him and love playing with him nonetheless, but he thinks he needs something else to win your favor
>The Velaryons dote on you too, with Laenor married to Rhaenyra and once your father marries Laena that same year, they are maybe too eager to become part of your family, and regard you as theirs
>Especially Laena, who Daemon allows (unlike with Rhea) to pamper and care for you, but still corrects you when it comes to remembering your origins, Laena may love you, but she's not your mother
>Maybe Daemon does this as a way to imagine you're only his, he doesn't care for the woman who abandoned such a precious treasure, she has been wiped away from your life and memory, you're only familiar with your father, you only belong to him
>You have his silver hair, you have his name, no matter who your mother was, you are his true valyrian heir, his dragonseed
>Unfortunately, Daemon is not the only one whose eyes light up when thinking of owning you
#yandere hotd#yandere targaryens#yandere aemond targaryen#yandere daemon targaryen#yandere rhaenyra targaryen#yandere Jacaerys Velaryon#yandere aegon targaryen#Yandere Aegon II#aegon ii x reader#yandere Haelena Targaryen#jacaerys velaryon x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd x reader
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My King
Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Aegons Wife) Rating - Sweet + Smut Word Count - 1330
Requested - I submitted a request/idea like this to another writer but I will not keep this like head canon idea type thing to myself........ Aegon is 100% the type to love his girl breastfeeding him... him being all stressed and angry or sad from the council not listening to him and Alicent being cruel and everything and he just wants to lay his head in her lap and latch his mouth onto her nipple and drink in her sweet milk... it makes him feel at peace... makes him feel wanted and loved and special
Writers Notes - I actually loved this idea so much I made two versions of it, cause I couldn't decide which angle I liked better so this is Version one a second will be coming soon.
Y/n sat in the royal chambers, perched softly on the ottoman beside the fire. Wearing her sweet soft green cotton gown with long off-shoulder sleeves. The twilight of the hour cascades purple and gold across the floor and tapestry-lined walls. Maids and guards long since sent away leaving only gentle sounds behind, The sound of the fire's soft crackles and pops, the sounds of gentle sucking, and of sweet heavenly humming.
Y/n hums softly to the baby in her arms, his little body cradled so sweetly and gently as the new prince feeds from his mother's breast.
“There we are, all done my little prince,” She cooed as she pulled the baby from her breast, wiped his lips, kissed his forehead and stroked her fingers softly over his Targaryen silver hair, She chuckled slightly at the baby's milk drunk little face, eyes droopy and sleepy.
“Fuck those cunts!” Erupted from the door as Aegon forced his way into the chamber throwing open the doors, letting them smack into the stone walls to their sides. He turned and slammed the doors in the faces of the guards who followed him, screaming to the ceiling like his own dragon,
Y/n, blinked a few times before she set the baby in the crib, “Is… everything alright my king?” She cooed,
He ran his hand through his silver hair and took a breath, “I wish to burn this infernal castle to the ground.”
“I see.” She nodded, “May I ask why?”
“Everything is why!” He yelled, “My mother is being a pretentious little bitch! Gives me all the power in the world and then forbids me to do anything! My brother is being a self-initiated little prick! Anyone think he thought he was king! This council constantly going round and round in bloody circles! Undermining My AUTHORITY!” He paced,
“I understand Aegon,” She nodded,
“W-what?” He froze up a moment,
“I understand, that must be very hard. Very conflicting emotionally and politically. I’m sorry you have to feel this way,” She cooed,
He scoffed a moment, “How is it… that you are… as angelic as you are?” he leaned his arms on the back of the chair, “You know just what I need.”
“Years of practice,” She chuckled,
He let a laugh slip, “I was expecting you to tell me how foolish I am, for feeling this way.”
“You are not foolish for feeling this way, your feelings are never foolish.” she affirmed, “It is a complicated time, but you have every right to feel disheartened and upset as everyone else does.”
“You’re too sweet. For a man like me.”
“Perhaps that's why you need me,”
“Perhaps it is,” He chuckled finally his eyes meeting his wife, He smiled at her a moment letting out a rather happy and content sigh, but his eyes flicked down to her bare breast and his teeth caught his bottom lip,
“Ohh! Forgive me, my king, I was feeding the prince.” She blushed pulling her dress back up and tying the small ribbon,
“You have no need to apologise Y/n,” He cooed, “How is he? Baby Baelor?” he asked coming to the crib to loom over his son,
“He’s fine, sleeping well.”
“Thank the gods,” He nodded, “And you?”
“I am very well my king,”
He chuckled and sat down in the chair beside her ottoman, “You have no need to still call me that,”
“I know, I just like to,” she smiled,
“You are far too sweet, for me, for Kings Landing … for Westeros,” He said pressing his forehead to hers and caressing her cheek, “Must you love me so strongly?”
“I must,” She nodded,
“Hum…” He smiled rubbing his thumb on her cheek before softly pressing his lips to capture her own,
The two shared a soft and loving kiss for a few moments before he pulled back,
“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” she asked,
His eyes trailed down from her lips, down her neck and lingered on her cleavage, he licked his lip and captured it once more in his teeth, “Mhm,” He growled,
Y/n blushed a moment, “Yes my king,” she nodded moving her hands to unlace the top of her dress tugging the dress down and holding it at her waist exposing both of her bare breasts to him,
He smirked a low growl in his throat as he took his time, looking at her. His eyes trail over every single inch of skin with a look of feist desire. After a while, he moves his hands to stroke her skin running his fingers gently across her, “what happened here?” He asked his thumb briefly brushing over the small mark on her tender breast just above her nipple,
“He bit me.”
“Bit you?” He rasied an eyebrow,
“It’s alright little guy just doesn’t know his strength yet,”
“You poor thing,” he cooed, “It’s a crime to bite something so beautiful,” He cooed fully cupping her breasts in his hands his thumbs softly circling her nipples watching with glee as they perked up and hardened for his attention, He gives her a few tender squeezes before his attention fully moves to her nipples brushing his thumbs over them in little clockwise circles around the pointed peak, only so often brushing the peak itself which always made her whimper, “May I, my queen?”
She blushed, “Of course my king,”
He smiled and moved to kneel on the floor his body between her legs, he laid his head softly on her thigh looking up at her with a joyful smile,
She smiled down at him and stroked his silver hair as he began to pepper her breast with kisses,
He made sure to kiss as much as he could before reaching her nipple, he slowly circled the hard peak with his tongue before lapping at the nipple with the side flat edge of his tounge, forcing a giggle from her, “So sensitive Y/n,” He cooed,
“Well they’ve been working hard feeding you both,” She chuckled,
“True,” He smirked, “Come here my angel,” He cooed taking her other breast in his hand and locking his lips around her nipple latching to it, he circled the nipple with his tounge a few more times before he began to gently and softly suckle,
“There we go, does this please you my king?” She cooed as she stroked his hair,
He nodded as he began to gently drink, making sure not to be too hard or too fast on her tender breast as he slowly suckled and drank her milk, as soon as the milk touched his tongue he began to moan and groan his eyes rolling back before squeezing shut completely, his other hand squeezes and rubs her nipple on the other breast while he enjoys her sweet milk.
“Not too much, or there’ll be none left for Baby Baelon,” She chuckled,
“Hummm” He nodded a little dismissively enjoying himself far too much to stop,
She chuckled and rolled her eyes a little petting his silver hair and caressing his cheek as she held him in her lap letting him drink and play for a good while until finally, he pulled back.
Ageon licked her nipple clean and wiped his mouth, “You make me feel… so peaceful my angel,”
“I’m glad I can, I’m just happy you feel better.”
“I feel much better now,” he cooed nuzzling into her lap, “I love you y/n,”
“I love you too Aegon,” She smiled giving his cheek a soft little kiss,
#hotd smut#hotd fanfiction#hotd fandom#hotd fanfic#hotd#hotd aegon#hotd imagine#hotd season 2#house of the dragon#aegon smut#aegon ii targaryen#king aegon#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon x reader#aegon the second#aegon ii#aegon targaryen#house targaryen#house of targaryen#house of the dragon season 2#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon aemond#house of the dragon aegon#aegon fanfic#Aegon imagine
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Mirrors
Chapter 1: Shattered
Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader
Summary: Your plan to talk about your and Agatha's strained relationship is put on hold when she collapses after hiding a serious injury.
Editor: @fruityhahn
The latest Trial — your very own — had taken a lot out of you. You were exhausted, your eyes yearning to close and sleep the events of the day away.
The first two Trials — Jen and Alice's — were difficult to get through, had even cost you a coven member and gained you a new one along the way (who just happened to be Agatha's ex girlfriend, but neither one of you was ready for that conversation), but they were nowhere near as anxiety-inducing as yours had been.
If not for Agatha talking you through the entire thing, offering encouragement despite your strained relationship, you never would have been able to pass it.
"That was… something," you said as the two of you walked down the Road.
The rest of the Coven was a good way ahead, too lost in chatter and laughter to notice the two of you had fallen behind.
Not that you cared — Agatha even less so. You wanted some alone time with her, a chance to talk about the day's events. A chance to approach the elephant that had been in the room since before the Road had even come into existence.
You'd tried to broach the subject multiple times, to no avail. Agatha had shut down each of your attempts, claiming she needed to focus on the situation at hand — the Road that shouldn't exist; the Trials she'd had to bullshit her way through; the boy whose name nobody could hear, who may or may not have been Wanda Maximoff's son. The topic of before — of your relationship, of the things you'd both done to fuck everything up — would be dealt with later.
Only, later never came. There was always something new, something more urgent that demanded her attention. In classic Agatha fashion, she avoided, avoided, avoided. Why deal with a problem when she could pretend it didn't exist? Why confront it when she could deflect? Why talk when she could just… not?
It was one of her most irritating traits. You knew she was just trying to protect herself, that all she wanted to do was hold back the pain — as temporary as it was — that inevitably came with such conversations, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.
She should know by now that she was safe with you. That her hurt and tears were safe, never to be exploited or used against her. That, as scary as it was to open up, she had nothing to be afraid of. You had never harmed her on purpose, and never would.
On purpose being the keyword.
What you'd done by accident — or rather, what you hadn't done — was the root cause of the issue.
"It sure was," Agatha said, nervously looking around, her hands firmly placed in her pockets, no doubt gripping the fabric tightly between her fingers.
"Thanks for having my back in there," you said. Then, with a smile, you added, "Literally."
At one point, near the end of your Trial, the mirrors in the posh, castle-like room you were stuck in had started shattering. Agatha, having noticed the cracks forming, had leapt and thrown herself over you just as the first mirror had exploded.
She'd held you in her embrace, her body a shield from the flying glass, until the commotion had stopped, and the door, red as blood, leading back to the Road had appeared amidst the pale white walls.
Agatha shrugged, feigning indifference, nonchalance. "I just didn't want us to have to resort to summoning another backup witch."
You knew her better than that. "Right. It was more practical to save me."
"Exactly."
You sighed. She was a horrible liar when it came to things like this. The truth was written all over her face, woven into her voice, a tattoo that she wasn't even trying that hard to conceal. She knew that you knew the truth, that you could see right through her thinly veiled bullshit, and she didn't care.
She could always shut down and walk away from this conversation. She could always say something new had demanded her attention. She could scream at you to leave her alone, that, after what you'd done, you didn't deserve a heart-to-heart.
So far, while clearly displeased by the direction the conversation was taking, she was playing along.
You decided to make the most of it.
"Agatha." You made sure to say it in that way that told her enough was enough, that you needed to talk like adults. That avoiding it was a tantrum you were losing tolerance for.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes straight ahead, refusing to meet yours. "What?"
"We need to talk."
"Do we?"
"You know we do."
Agatha swallowed. She straightened out her coat and pressed her mouth into a line that would be cute if it wasn't frustrating. Her own little way of rebellion, one you knew all too well.
If she couldn't avoid the issue, she could pretend it wasn't there. She could pretend that she didn't see what was right in front of her, that she didn't hear the words spoken right beside her ears.
You weren't going to let her.
Noticing she's fallen behind, you stopped in your tracks and turned to look at her. She was pale as a ghost, her lips a purplish color that looked unsettling even under the Road's odd lighting.
"You okay?" you asked for your own peace of mind. Surely, she couldn't have dreaded the conversation that much.
Agatha frowned, uneasy at being asked. People usually didn't check on her. Nobody cared how the infamous Witch Killer was doing.
Nobody but you.
"I'm fine," she said abrasively. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You look a bit pale."
She scoffed. "This place doesn't exactly do wonders for one's complexion."
Fair point.
"You're sure you're okay?"
"Just peachy."
As soon as the words left her mouth, her left hand — her dominant one — shot out to grab onto your arm. Her fingers, unusually pale, deathly cold to the touch, dug into your flesh. Her nails, long and sharp as talons, cut crescents into your skin, pinching, almost drawing blood.
"Agatha?"
She responded by finally allowing her eyes to meet yours. The glassy, haunted look in them sent a concerned shiver down your spine.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
Agatha pulled in a breath to steady herself. "N-Nothing, I'm-I'm fine."
In contrast to her words, her grip on you tightened. She could lie all she wanted; her body never did. Not to you.
"Don't do that. Tell me what's wrong."
She forced a chuckle. "Why? So you can leave again?"
You flinched as if slapped. Was that seriously how she wanted to play it? You'd done wrong here, of course you had, but she didn't get to twist it. She didn't get to rewrite history as if it was an article that needed revision.
She didn't get to strike that low while you were already on the ground.
"You're the one who left!" you snapped, sick of her nonsense. Waiting for days to let it all out, wild and free from the constraints of your self-control.
"And you didn't follow!" Agatha shot back.
She was right.
You didn't follow.
You'd stayed home and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
You'd cried yourself to sleep for many nights, thinking she'd left you for good. Thinking, in the years that had followed, that she'd shacked up with someone new and had forgotten all about you.
She had forgotten you, but not out of choice. Not out of want.
All she needed was for you to come and get her.
Yet you never did.
"How long are you gonna keep punishing me for that?"
As if you weren't punishing yourself enough. Every time you were alone with your thoughts, the unpleasant reality hit you like a pile of bricks straight to the face. Agatha was there, locked inside her own mind, begging for help, but it never came. You never came.
Even if she were to ever forgive you, you would never forgive yourself.
"I'm sorry," you said with tears in your eyes, begging to be let free. "For the thousandth time, I'm sorry.
You could say it a million more times — it wouldn't change what had happened. Nothing could ever possibly change it.
Agatha breathed in, taking in your words. Swishing them through her head like a mouthful of water.
"What do I have to do to get you to forgive me?"
If she could find it in her heart to forgive you, to absolve you of your infraction, maybe, eventually, you would be able to try to forgive yourself. Maybe this pain, this hurt that ravaged you from the inside — that had been ravaging you since Agatha had shown up at your door with Teen, pissed as high hell, demanding answers — would subside.
Just as Agatha took in a few resolving breaths, preparing to respond, her right knee gave way and she tumbled forwards.
"Oh, my god," you breathed as your arms, led by instinct you'd grown into over your centuries together, leapt up to catch her.
You pressed her against you, holding her upright as tightly as you could, even as the full weight of her on you threatened to topple you both.
"Sweetheart, what's going on?"
"It's n-n-nothing." Her voice was strained, tired, as if she were forcing the response out. As if each and every word that left her mouth scorched her throat.
You grit your teeth, frustrated. Exasperated by her stubbornness, by her complete and utter refusal to talk, even at times like this.
"Agatha, please, talk to me. Let me help."
"I d-don't…" The words died in her throat. She tried to raise her hands to push you away, to get you to let go, but her arms, as deathly pale as her face, remained hanging at her sides. Dead. Useless.
"It's okay. I got you," you assured her, nuzzling her neck like you always did when you held her. "You can hate me all you want. I'm not letting you go."
"I don't hate you," she uttered weakly, as if it took all of her to force the words out. Then her head fell against your shoulder, and her body, limp, unusually heavy, slumped against you.
It took everything in you to remain on your feet. Your grip around her tightened, squeezing her to you. Pressing her against you as firmly as you could.
"Agatha? Agatha?" you called, but no response came. No words. No grunts. No moans. Just deadly, deafening silence.
Blood ran cold in your veins. This wasn't good. Whatever was going on, Agatha wasn't doing well.
"Sweetheart, please."
Something sticky engulfed your hand that was pressing against her side. You raised it to inspect it, and your eyes widened at the substance glistening under the Road's dim lighting.
Blood.
Scarlet. Warm. Vibrant.
So much of it that it soaked through her coat.
The smell of pennies clung to your tongue, so thick that you could taste it.
"Oh, god!" you exclaimed, your heart racing as you stared at your smeared hand, at the blood coating your skin. Blood that shouldn't be there. Blood that Agatha didn't tell you about. "Guys! Help! Please, help!"
The coven, far up ahead of you, turned their heads and looked back, startled from their carefree conversation.
"What happened?" Teen said, the first one to run towards you, having sensed the urgency, the sheer panic in your tone.
"Agatha's hurt," you whimpered through tears that drenched your face and obscured your vision. You kept your arms firmly around Agatha, focused on keeping her upright, on making sure whatever injury she had wouldn't be made worse.
"What? How?" Teen asked, worried, as Alice bent down to examine the bloodstain on Agatha's coat.
"She protected me when the mirrors shattered."
She'd more than protected you. She'd shielded you. Had taken on the impact of each and every shard of glass. Had grit her teeth and beared it. All for your sake. For your safety. As strained as your relationship was, the last thing she wanted was for you to get hurt.
She'd risked her life for yours.
"I didn't-I didn't know she got hurt. She didn't tell me." You swallowed a hard, heavy lump in your throat. Shook the tears from your eyes. "Why didn't you tell me? Why?"
Because she didn't want to show weakness. Because this was yet another problem she could avoid and ignore until, eventually, she no longer could. Until the pain became too much and her body had lost too much blood to keep her on her feet, and she collapsed in your arms.
With Lilia and Alice's help, you lowered Agatha to the ground, gently, carefully. The other witches removed her coat and raised her shirt, exposing her back. Her skin, usually smooth and silky, was speckled with cuts of various shapes and sizes, as if someone had marked her with a thin, red marker. On her right side, just below her ribs, blossomed a large, bleeding wound.
"Oh, my god," you gasped, bewildered at the sight.
It had to have hurt like a bitch. Why didn't she tell you? Why didn't she ask for help? Why did she think she had to bite back the pain and suffer in silence?
Alice pressed her hands over the wound, closing it as much as she could. "This is bad. We have to stop the bleeding."
"Jen, can you do something?" you asked.
The witch in question stared, unmoved, unbothered. As if the scene before her didn't faze her a single bit. As if she didn't have it in her to care.
Agatha was easy to hate, easy to leave for dead.
Loving her, on the other hand, was difficult. Challenging. Near impossible for most people.
Not for you.
Never for you.
"Do the thing you did with Teen!" you shouted; an order, a command. Leaving no place for debate.
The woman you loved was bleeding out, and there was nothing you could do about it. Your skills, your magic, everything you knew and had was useless. You were useless.
The only one who could do something,who could help her in any meaningful way, was Jen.
"Please!" you begged, holding on to Agatha, whose head was resting on your lap, as if your life depended on it. As if she would disappear if you were to let go. "Don't let her die. I know you don't like her, but please help her."
As much bad blood there was between them, Agatha didn't deserve to die. Not like this.
She didn't deserve to be abandoned again.
"I'll owe you," you said through sobs that, no matter how hard you tried to suppress them, kept coming, one after another. Choking you. Suffocating you. "Please."
Jen sighed, then shook her head. "You know how this works. Water. Moonlight."
Lilia jumped at the task, Teen following in her stead.
Rio watched the scene unfolding before her, amused, like a cat playing with her food.
As your brain registered her presence, you bent over, hiding Agatha from her line of sight. As if that would do anything. As if anyone could ever hide from Death, herself. "You stay away from her! You're not taking her!"
Rio smiled, the picture of innocence. As fake as the Road that you were on.
"Stay back!"
She raised her hands in mock defeat and walked away. Alice and Jen shot you a glance, baffled by your outburst. You must have come across as hysterical. The new girlfriend, jealous of the ex who just happened to join you on the Road. Too lost in panic, in concern to think straight.
They didn't know who — what — Rio was. They didn't know that she wanted Agatha dead. They didn't know their history.
A long time ago, Agatha had filled you in on everything that had transpired between them. Their failed relationship. The loss of her son. You'd never seen her cry as much as she had that day; not before, and not since.
Everything that had transpired between them was still a gaping wound on her heart and soul; forever to bleed, never to close.
There was nothing you could do to make that pain go away. Nothing you could do to lessen it, to soothe that never-healing ache. The woman you loved more than life itself would forever bear that pain.
The only thing you could do was not add to it.
Today wasn't Agatha's day to die. You would be damned if you let Rio try to speed the process along.
You closed your eyes as Jen started chanting her healing spell, your arms firm around Agatha. Please, work, you begged as your tears dripped onto her hair, onto her deathly cold cheek. Please, stay with me. I can't lose you.
You would forever regret the three long years you'd spent without her.
She never should have stormed out that day.
You should have followed after her.
She should have told you she was going to Westview.
You never should have thought that that was it, that she was done with you for good.
Agatha said she didn't hate you. You hoped it was true, that it wasn't delirium brought upon by blood loss. There was still hope for you to make things right. To make her forgive you.
If she didn't — couldn't — that was okay with you. You could live with that. So long as she lived.
It would hurt, probably forever, but you would learn to deal with it. You would learn to live without her, as you had for the past three years.
All that mattered was that she kept her life. Even if she wasn't in yours.
As Jen finished her spell, Alice removed her hands from Agatha's injury, allowing Teen and Lilia to pour the enchanted water over it. You allowed yourself a peek, squeezing Agatha's shoulder. Please, work. Please. Please. Please.
You held your breath as Alice, as tenderly as she could, brushed her hand over the blood, smearing it away.
Revealing perfect, untouched flesh underneath it.
You released a long breath, relief flooding your veins like a long-awaited high.
The spell had worked.
The wound was gone.
"Thank you," you whispered, loud enough for Jen to hear. Hoping she knew how much this meant to you. How much you appreciated it. "Thank you so much."
You pulled Agatha closer, holding her tightly against you, rocking her back and forth like a sleeping child. She was still as cold as a corpse, but she was no longer bleeding. Her breathing, while shallow, was steady. Her heart beat in a healthy rhythm.
"She'll be okay, right?"
You needed someone to tell you that she would. To assure you that the worst had passed.
Lilia laid a tender, comforting hand on your shoulder. "She's strong."
"She has to be okay.
"She will be." It was a statement of fact. A promise. Her tone leaving no room for doubt.
You believed her.
"She's lost a lot of blood," Alice said. "She needs rest."
You gave a small nod. Agatha would get all the rest her body required. She would be warm and comfortable. Safe from any further calm.
Anything she needed, she would get.
You would make sure of it.
"Jen, I owe you."
The witch in question shook her head and allowed a small smile to graze her face. "You don't owe me anything. Agatha, on the other hand…"
The others chuckled at the remark.
You didn't have it in you to join them, Agatha's condition the one and only thing occupying your scrambled mind. You needed to look after her. To tend to her until she opened her eyes and uttered one of her sarcastic remarks that would be insulting to anyone who didn't know her enough to know she meant it with love.
Right now, that was all that mattered.
Anything else could wait.
*****
Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans @ahintofchaos @fruityhahn @midnight-lestrange @lift-heavy-be-gay @katieswain123 @riovidalharkness @revleftshark
*****
Next chapter.
#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha harkness#aaa#agatha all along#marvel#mcu#fanfic#fanfiction#my fics#edit
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✮ Aemond Targaryen NSFW alphabet ✮

My modern Aemond’s parents are Rhaenyra and Alicent <3
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
At first he’s not really sure what to do. He’s a bit awkward when it comes to dealing with the aftermath of these things. But he is nothing if not eager to learn.
Once he understands what you need he will be more than happy to provide it whether it be checking in on you verbally or just holding you after it’s over.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He’s a big fan of his hands now. He didn’t really think about them much before, but when you pointed out how much you liked them he began to appreciate them more. He likes how large and strong they are and how quickly he can make you cum with them.
He’s a tits man all the way. Big or small he doesn’t really care he just likes looking at them, sucking on them, and squeezing them.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)
He’s got a not so secret breeding kink. He doesn’t actually want kids right now but if you let him cum inside of you it’s game over.
‘You want me to fill you up don’t you? Want all my cum inside you so everyone will know you belong with me, hm?’
D = Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs)
He’s got a real bad librarian fetish.
He’s embarrassed of how cliche it is. He’s not exactly sure why it happened, but he remembers one day accidentally stumbling upon Aegon’s porn mag collection and coming across a spread of a woman in a library wearing small framed glasses, her hair just pulled out of an up-do, wearing no shirt with her tight pencil skirt hiked up to pussy without any knickers on.
He ripped the spread out of the magazine knowing that if Aegon told their mums about it he would be in just as much trouble for owning a magazine like that. He doesn’t know how many times he wanked off to that picture, but he had to stop once the picture became too crumpled to even make out the shape of the woman anymore.
Maybe one day he’ll get the courage to ask you to do a little librarian role play with him.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Aemond didn’t go through the classic teenage boy slag phase like all his other brother’s did. He didn’t lose his virginity till he was 19 but that doesn’t mean he’s a dud — on the contrary he’s probably the most educated about sex out of all his siblings.
His love of knowledge didn’t stop outside of school hours. He spent everyday after class making sure that when the time was right and he found the right person it would be just as good for them as it would be for him.
Did this lead him down some rabbit holes of knowledge about things a teenager boy shouldn’t know? Yes absolutely.
Did he regret it? Definitely not.
F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying, may include a visual)
Cowgirl. He loves watching you bounce on top of him, biting your lower lip to keep quiet for the neighbours.
He also enjoys the fact that it’s a position where either of you can be in control. There’s been many time where you have started out in control until he grips onto your hips slapping the skin of your ass against the front of his thighs.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous?)
Definitely more serious. There isn’t anything Aemond doesn’t take 100% seriously most of the time and sex isn’t any different. When it’s happening he’s a man on a mission.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes?)
Completely shaven bare, not that there was much hair to shave in the first place.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
He’s surprisingly romantic in the moment. He knows what being used feels like and he never wants you to feel that way. Even when he gets rough he always reassures you it’s all for your pleasure.
J = Jack Off (how often do they do it? how do they feel about it?)
Almost never. He would much rather have you touch him than have to do it himself. He’s patient enough to wait if he must.
And when he knows he won’t see you for a while wether that be because one of you is going out of town, or just busy with work, he’ll request you send him some scandalous photos so he won’t miss you as much. That or phone sex.
K = Kink (what are they into?)
He’s a secret fem dom enjoyer, not necessarily in the traditional whips and chains way but he just likes it when you take control. Bossing him around, praising him, maybe a few smack here and there.
He’s also all about giving what he gets. Being called sir whenever he’s in charge while he simultaneously praises and degrades you. It’s a balancing act he throughly enjoys.
And some good old fashioned exhibitionism on the side.
L = Location (favourite places to have sex)
He really likes having sex on your couch because there’s a few positions that are way more comfortable there than on your bed. If he’s feeling adventurous he’ll definitely be up for bathroom sex (clean bathroom sex that is, he’s not an animal).
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going?)
He likes a challenge. Whenever you tease by telling him you’re not wearing any underwear, or playing footsies with him under the table, he is instantly growing a tent in his slacks.
He makes it his goal to get you back every time and get you back he does.
He’s also just a sucker for you dressing up for him. Lingerie or skimpy dress, if you’re wearing it, he is ripping it off.
N = Nope (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He can’t deal with anything unsanitary or unsafe. Choking you a little? Sure of course. Choking up with a belt? Not happening. He knows how fragile the human windpipe is.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
He feels guilty about it but he definitely prefers receiving. It’s not like he hates giving — trust he can eat pussy like nobody’s business, but the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his cock is something nothing else could compare to in his mind. If you offer to let him fuck your throat he will take that opportunity so fast you won’t even be able to comprehend what’s happening before you’re kneeling on the floor.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)
He can go either way but more often than not it’s pretty rough. You have spent many nights at his place and woken up the next morning with a limp and a sore ass.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often?)
He’s alright with them. They’re not his favourite because he doesn’t like to feel rushed when he’s fucking you — he takes his time, but if it’s the only option he needs his fix of you more than he needs to wait for the next time he has enough time to take it slow.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)
He’s not really experimental but if you tell him something you’re interested in trying he’s down to try it at least once (unless it’s one of his hard nos of course).
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)
He’s a pretty physically active guy and that shows with his stamina. He usually only taps out once he’s dehydrated.
T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Aemond doesn’t own any himself but he likes using the ones you own on you, especially the vibrator. He thinks it’s incredibly dumb when guys view sex toys as competition rather than tools that can be used to make sex better.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease?)
World’s biggest tease. It’s part of the fun of the game you two play together. Sitting across from each other at dinner with his family is pure torture for both of you. Sucking way too long on your dessert spoon while he wipes the corner of his mouth with his finger so he can suck it clean.
If he’s in a teasing mood he makes it everyone else’s problem. His poor mothers just wanted a nice innocent family dinner.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make?)
Not too loud when it comes to sounds besides grunts but a dirty little mouth on him. Runs in his family.
‘You’re my dirty whore, you know that right?’ ‘That’s it, cum all over my cock for me’
W = Wild Card (a random headcanon)
He has a throughly put together sex playlist. It’s a bunch of different genres and artists and he spent months working on it before he had sex for the first time.
X = X-Ray (what’s goin’ on under those clothes?)
Two words. Big balls.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive? how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Again he’s a pretty active guy, it’s like he’s in a competitive sport where the only competition is himself and the only goal is to fuck you until he physically cannot move anymore.
Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He can get pretty worn out after it’s done but he has a rule never to pass out before you. He’s a romantic in that way.
#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fanfiction#modern!aemond#modern aemond#modern!aemond targaryen#modern!Aemond Targaryen smut#modern!aemond smut#hotd smut#cjs.drabbles#cjs.headcanons#cjs.library
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I'm still in my Lilia brain rot era and I keep thinking about her and Agatha, and their dynamic and parallels.
Like, Agatha is a dick to everyone from the start, even Teen, but she's extremely chill and even, for her being who she is, weirdly respectful towards Lilia. Maybe it's because of the age, maybe it's because Lilia was the only one to show she still had true power when they first met, maybe it's because they share experience and persecution the younger ones don't truly understand, maybe Agatha just has a soft spot for those who are very clearly outcasts and weirdos.
The only sting at Lilia I can recall is calling her "Dory" in the last trial lmao
She never once questions or mocks her gaps. Hell, she said "we came to the right place" AFTER she saw Lilia scream her head off in ep2 over, to them, nothing. "Hmm, this bitch a lil bonkers, but that's exactly what I like and need :)"
She told Lilia that she couldn't take her power unless she's blasted with it - something she was certainly aiming for if the door didn't open and that ended up saving them in ep2 when she was using her ye old technique of being a menace. She may have told it to her only to get her in, but that's a big minus to her plan B.
When everyone had their hallucinations, Agatha didn't mock Lilia when she was, once again, "being weird". She believed her and reassured her in a soft tone that it was ok.
One interaction I found really funny is in ep3 when Teen asks about a sous vide machine and Agatha turns to Lilia with that "What the fuck is that? That wasn't around in our time" look
Usually when one of them starts spewing wisdom, someone will give a snarky remark, usually Agatha, but when they were talking about summoning a new green witch, Agatha let Lilia speak and was the only one who, at least somewhat, listened to her advice (50/50 but still haha). It was Lilia after all who was the first one to, tho reluctantly, agree to Agatha's idea of summoning a back up green witch.
Also the way Agatha looks at Lilia when she calls Jen out for giving Sharon only one dose of antidote when she had two glasses of wine. It's just so "mmm 😈 I like this one"


Agatha's first choice for "who could possibly play piano" wasn't Alice. Ya know the daughter of a rock goddess who would be the most logical choice. It was Lilia and I find that sweet and a lil funny too.
Lilia didn't tell Agatha's Salem story with judgement, even if she said "when Agatha killed her original coven". It was delivered as mere fact to explain the story.
Then when Evanora showed up and Lilia looks angry and almost disgusted at what she's hearing her say to Agatha. Even after Alice's death, she didn't jump on Agatha's back and accuse her. She let her be cause she was clearly distraught.

Agatha "I'm not drinking the poison. You can suffer but I won't!" Harkness jumped on Lilia and covered her with her own body in the latest episode when the sword was about to impale her. And then she let her do her magic even if it didn't seem to work as the ceiling was still falling and even if she thought tarot was bullshit. She trusted she knew what she was doing.
And the look they give eachother when Lilia reveals Rio is Death. Lilia's face reads as terrified, but more than terrified, she seems to have a moment of compassion. It's the look of "How deeply fucked must your life have been that the only one that ever showed you love and kindness is the one who everyone else sees as the bringer of pain?". Death broke Lilia's heart many a time, but in that moment she understood, she broke Agatha's heart too in even worse ways.

AGATHA LIKED HER! SHE LIKED HER FROM THE START AND RESPECTED HER! AND LILIA LIKED HER TOO, DESPITE THE INITIAL SUSPICIONS!!!
I need to know what her reaction to finding out Lilia sacrificed herself to kill the threat that was specifically after her will be. Will she brush it off and pretend she doesn't care to keep appearing stern and emotionless or will this be the thing that finally makes her realise people care for her? Cause Agatha has never had anyone, except literal Death, show her kindness, much less sacrifice themselves so she could keep living. And I find it beautifully poetic that the one other person Death has known well for centuries, who Death has acknowledged by name in that coven, was the one to do that.
Again, I'm aware that this is just my brain rot speaking, but Lilia was truly the MVP. She's the one with wisdom, the biggest experience, the one with seemingly most patience, the hype man ("Jennifer, look what you did", "It was all for you", "Don't worry, baby. We're cool"). Her trial is the only one where the rest was in fact not needed and was of no help. Actually, all they did was make it worse. The first three trials depended on teamwork. Lilia's was truly solvable ONLY by Lilia.
Anyways, Lilia mentally adopted Agatha and realised she truly was part of her coven and therefore worth dying for and I will never fucking recover 💔💔😭😭
#agatha all along#AAA#Agatha Harkness#Kathryn Hahn#Lilia Calderu#Patti Lupone#my thoughts have been consumed by their relationship since ep7 came out#I am unable to be normal about it#I need an AU where a young Lilia first comes to the US#and finds a freshly shunned from her coven baby Agatha#and takes her in#I NEED MORE OF THEM
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