#i’ve been watching too much hotd

[adrugstorecowgirl]

me sexting: if it pleases your grace

[targaryenluvs]

THE SMALLFOLK’S PRINCESS

PAIRING: Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Dark!Greens x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: After meeting you whilst scouring for his brother, Aemond finds himself interested in you. Even if you aren’t a Targaryen, and it’s not like you can resist a Dragon, right?

WARNINGS: Dark Themes, Stalking, Jealousy, Abuse of power, Intimidation, Marriage

WORDCOUNT: 2.2K

A/N: I’ve been wanting to start posting again, and with Hotd s2 I have the perfect come back period :) Requested here.

You’d been shopping for chicken at the markets for your brothers birthday. Your mother wanted to make his favourite dish and your father had returned home from Driftmark where he owned a fleet of fishing vessels.

Your family was middle class. You’d never gone to bed hungry, and were raised in a family of love. Whilst you didn’t have the money to buy a new dress or jewellery every week, you were more than comfortable with what you had and grateful.

Your parents had worked hard for everything they had and they only wanted the best for you. To marry someone who could care for you and so they wouldn’t have to worry for your safety.

You wanted safety. You’d seen some of the worst parts of Kings Landing, and heard the rumours of Flea Bottoms past notoriety for its darkness.

All you wanted was to never experience it, or have your children experience it. To know your family was secure. You cared, some would say too much.

You especially cared for your family. So picking the best ingredients and foods for tonight was crucial in your mind. As you browsed the meat, you couldn’t help but feel exposed, vulnerable. Was someone watching you right now?

With a swift turn you’d managed to view a finale of a dark hood bowing down as your gaze reached it. But it simply disappeared amongst the sea of people, odd.

You returned to the stall and picked your choices, “Thank you, keep the change.” The seller beamed as she gladly accepted the offer, “Oh bless you sweet girl.” You nodded your head before collecting your bag. Everything needed for dinner had been bought, except a certain drink.

You’d never heard of it before, but apparently it was only sold out of a brothel. How fun.

Your hand coiled around your bag as you passed unsavoury characters. To be in the pits of Kings Landing was idiotic in all honestly, especially for a woman alone. But you had a sense of security in the dagger by your hip.

A glimpse of silver hair to your side caused your head to tilt, what Targaryen would spend their time here?

Prince Aegon of course. “Aegon!” Aemond yelled for his brother as the elder of the two ran through the crowd colliding into surrounding people.

The Prince continued to run recklessly as you and others watched the scene unfold. He was obviously drunk and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the younger Targaryen. You knew he was having a hard time.

So you may or may not have put your foot out.

“Fuck!”

Aegon fell to the floor as you pretended to come to his aid, “Are you alright my prince?” Aegon was about to push your hands off of him, but one look at your face had him biting his tongue. “I am quite all right.” You held your hands out for Aegon to take them, as you hoisted him up Aemond stood tall to the right.

“I guess I’ve been caught Dear Brother.” He smiled widely at his brother. Aemond had his arms crossed against his stomach with a hardened expression. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or annoyed, either way you didn’t want to be on his bad side. “It seems so. Come along now Aegon, don’t make this any more complicated. Unless you’d rather have guards escorting you back.” At the idea of guards Aegon groaned and turned to his brother, clinging to his elbows as he shook his younger brother.

You wondered if he remembered you.

“I’ll go with you, quit hastening me. Hastening? Hassling? Whatever. As long as this fine woman helps me to the comforts of my bed. You’d love to see the inside of the Red Keep no?” You batted your eyes as you realised the Prince was speaking to you. His and Aemond’s gaze burnt into you, brightening your cheeks as you shook your head, “There’s no need for my help Prince Aegon. I’ll be on my way.” With a quick smile you dismissed the conversation, but Aegon hardly relented.

He was taken aback by your dismissal, but not disheartened, “I did not say you could leave nor was I asking.”

And so you found yourself lugging the touchy drunkard all the way back to the castle. Thankfully you’d decided to dress nicer today, otherwise you’d feel even more out of place. The Red Keep was daunting, especially for those whom did not reside within the walls. The large, imposing nature was unsettling, imagining the silence at night was more than enough to remind you of your own bustling home. Thankfully you rarely dealt with silence due to your family.

With Aegon dumped into bed and snoozing away, you brushed your dress off and settled your hair since it was probably a mess. Aegon was much nicer company when he slept like a newborn babe. “Much more peaceful when he’s asleep no?” A laugh escaped you as you agreed with Aemonds words, “Definitely quieter, and less whiny.” Aemond’s eyebrow raised at your boldness, “I mean—,” It was his turn to laugh, or rather scoff. “Do not worry, I understood your meaning. It’s getting late outside, would you like to stay the night?”

Your throat closed in on nothing, choking on air at the proposition before you. A night, at the Red Keep, courtesy of Prince Aemond Targaryen. How many people could say that they’d received such a proposal?

“Oh I couldn’t impose my Prince.” Aemond turned towards the door as you stood still, did you stay still or did he assume you’d follow? “It’s not a problem at all, come Y/n.” You stared at the empty space he’d occupied moments ago before snapping out of the daze and running after him. He had to have recognised you if he knew your name right?

That night was, special, to say the least.

You’d somehow been roped into dinner with Aemond, Helaena, Aegon, Queen Alicent and the twins. Surprisingly, the Queen wasn’t irritated by your presence, rather welcoming.

“I do apologise for you having to see Prince Aegon in such a state. You did not have to aid Prince Aemond in returning him home but you did. The least we could do is grant you safety from the storm outside Y/n/n.” It was one thing for Aemond to know your name, but you’d never met the Queen.

The rain fell heavy and thunderous upon the ground, pelting against the glass windows. You’d always loved storms, the sound of rain and thunder alike brought comfort whereas your mother despised them.

Aemond didn’t mind them either, he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of the rain against his bare skin. It made him feel alive, so did you.

Whilst you may have only officially met him today, he’d had his eye on you. The first time being at another market with Helaena. She’d had a spurt of energy, and asked if she could view some insects or plants. Alicent thoroughly encouraged the idea of the people seeing Helaena, but of course not without guards.

Aemond said that he was more than enough, but Ser Criston and Ser Arryk came along for extra protection. At the market, Helaena had accidentally dropped a peach onto the floor. Before she had the time to even look at it, you immediately scooped it up before brushing it off, “There, brand new!” Helaena’s smile grew in response to yours, “Thank you.”

“Of course Princess.” With a quick nod and acknowledgment you left her to her own shopping. You didn’t press on or falter in her presence, but treated her normally. Your kindness wasn’t appreciated by others, nor common. At least in Aemonds eye.

Helaena was surprisingly happy afterwards and Aemond definitely noticed, “She was nice no?” He nodded in agreement to his sisters words since he found it better to agree to what she said than listen to her try and justify herself.

Helaena continued to stare at you whilst you negotiated prices with another vendor and she found her feet moving of their own accord towards you. “Hello.” Helaena waited your response as the vendor froze at their presence.

“Hi, are you alright my Princess?” She smiled, “Do you mind escorting me around? I don’t know the vendors too well.”

So you found yourself accompanying the Princess and Prince through the streets, to your surprise and relief it was easy to make conversation with her. She loved to speak about her hobbies whilst you were thoroughly impressed at her knowledge.

You made her feel heard, whereas most people dismissed her easily.

Aemond found you to be refreshing, not scared beyond relief to be meeting and speaking to them but rather calm and collected.

Dinner had been amazing of course, you expected nothing less of the Queen. But you’d hoped to have been leaving by now, your family was surely wondering where you were.

“I’ve already sent a messenger to inform them of your whereabouts. Helaena would like to offer you the position of being a hand maid to her, a companion.”

The room was silent, as you tried to find the words to reply. “That is, unbelievably generous of you to offer Prince Aemond. But I-, I’m not highborn. Why would you offer such a position to me?” Aemond leaned back in his chair and relaxed. Which contrasted the rigid spine you possessed. “Because I can.”

“Thank you. I’ll have to talk to my family—,”

Aemond raised his hand as you stopped talking, you could feel your heart beating. Had you said something wrong? “It’s not an offer or a question. You’ll start tomorrow, your given chambers are where you will reside for tonight. You’ll be moved to be near Helaena tomorrow. Rest now, a maid will collect you tomorrow.”

Working at the Red Keep was coveted in your opinion, there weren’t exactly a robust amount of opportunities for woman amongst Kings Landing. You should be grateful, yes, but the tone Aemond held with you was bone chilling. This wasn’t a proposition, it was a demand. And you were terrified of what could have happened had you not complied.

He swiftly left afterwards, leaving you to reel over the events of the day.

You’d left to get food for your brother’s birthday and were now practically imprisoned within the Red Keep.

The next day had your brain set on overdrive, about a million tons of information was thrown your way. When to wake up, what you’d be wearing, what you’d be doing, who you’d be following in the morning, who’d you be filling in for or relieving and when you were finally able to sleep.

Every other maid stared at you, unaware of the new help. As if it wasn’t uncomfortable enough, the Princess and Prince’s doing and favouritism was clear. On what day would Prince Aemond stop to check in with a hand maiden.

“I’ve heard you’ve been doing well.” Was he always this tall? You didn’t realise until now that you were practically looking up at him. “I hope I have. But I must let you go my Prince, Princess Helaena needs help dressing the Princes and Princess.” Aemond latched into your arm as you stood still again, “There’s no need for the formality Y/n. Helaena already has help, come with me.”

Deja Vu be damned, you found yourself in Aemond’s chambers. “Is there a spill? I can go fetch someone to clean if need be.”

Something about the way he was looking at you made you think that he didn’t need much. You’d seen that look before.

“Have you seen what life is for most here?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to work for the rest of your life? Barely see your family?”

Was this a trick question? “I don’t know, it’s an honour to work here Prince Aemond.”

“Aemond. I told you to call me Aemond.”

“I did not mean to offend you, Aemond. But, your station is above me.”

“It doesn’t have to be. If I married you.” You laughed at the notion, but another glance at his deadpan expression had you biting your tongue. “Why would you marry me?”

“Because I can. I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of, your family would never have to worry ever again.” If you had a superpower, it’d be the ability to freeze. It was as if your feet were locked in place, unable to move as Aemond approached. His hand grazed your face as you closed your eyes.

“If you mean it, then yes. I would marry you.”

“You will.”

“I will.”

Your parents were overjoyed of course, a common-born daughter marrying a Targaryen prince. It was a rarity for anyone to infiltrate the reigning family without a dragon by your side or a large house and a hefty last name.

The feast was filled with laughter and love, the Smallfolk celebrated themselves, one of them marrying into the royal household.

The Smallfolk’s Princess, you’d heard them say.

But with Aemond’s hand on your back, guiding you? The wide smiles of the Queen, King and Princess weren’t enough to subdue the hollow feeling in your chest. Helaena grinned as she brung you back from the floor, “I’m so glad to have a sister.” She made you genuinely happy, at least someone could provide you solace.

“You look beautiful.” You turned to your Husband, a proud display across his face. “Thank you, Aemond.”

“Husband.”

“Of course, Husband.”

From seeing you for the first time to leading you to his chambers, your chambers, Aemond was relieved.

You were his, now and forever.

[sansaorgana]

maybe i’ve been watching too much GOT/HOTD shit but…tttw au where reader decides to seduce paul into p much being her servant (kinda like what cersei did to jaime except she still does actually care for him a bit). and lady jessica pushes for the marriage between reader and feyd to get her away from paul. i just feel like that’d make the fight between feyd and paul just that much more personal 🫢

THROWN TO THE WOLVES MASTERLIST

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Hello! I hope you still remember my multichapter fic 🥴 It's been a long time but I needed a break from it to create other stories and finally it's time for me to write the requests that were about this universe. For the start I went with this twisted AU and be warned because I have abandoned all my moral compass while writing it lol 😳🙈 I mostly explored the dynamic between the characters here and I don't think you have to know "Thrown To The Wolves" to read this story but it surely will make more sense if you do! 😊 Also, since it's an AU – and a wicked one as well – I didn't tag anyone from this fic's taglist. I also didn't tag anyone from the Feyd-Rautha's taglist because it's an AU of already existing fic that not everyone has read, so... I didn't want to bother anyone 😅

WARNINGS — INCEST, mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), Reader is NOT a good person (as we already know... but she's even worse here)

WORD COUNT — 5,380

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

Watching your half-brother train, you only pretended to read a book in front of you. You couldn’t focus on the words because you were still rethinking the argument you had with your father earlier. Now, when Paul was officially an adult, Duke Leto Atreides signed a document that only solidified your brother as the heir and the next Duke.

He might not have been from a legal union like you were, but he was a boy. However, you had a feeling it was about more than that. After all, if your father wanted to change the law and allow women to inherit, he would do that. No, it was about Paul being his favourite. It was about Paul being prepared for this role from the moment he was born. It was about Paul being born from a woman that your father truly loved. Unlike your mother whose cold grave you had visited earlier that day. You were the only one visiting her.

To think that you were supposed to be born a boy. Paul was supposed to be a girl. Yet, the cruel universe played a joke at your expense. And now you were a burden of the Atreides family instead of an heir. Unless…

The book you were reading was a history one, telling stories of ancient times and the ways of the noblemen in the past. It mentioned gross and yet fascinating acts of the forgotten practices to keep the royal bloodlines pure. Incestous relationships between cousins… and even siblings. At first, reading the book late at night in your room, you had felt disgust at the mention of a sister-wife. But now, watching Paul training and reliving an argument with your father, you began having second thoughts.

The only way of getting the title of The Atreides Duchess would be to marry Paul. And he was of gentle, soft nature. He was not only devoted to you in his brotherly, naive love but also innocently easy to manipulate. You had done that multiple times before already; making him take blame for something you did or do something for you that you didn’t feel like doing yourself.

Would he be easy to seduce, though? You wondered, trying to shake off a small wave of guilt and disgust at the thought. You had to be stronger than your moral compass to survive. You knew already that Lady Jessica was plotting behind your father’s back to send you away, to marry you off to some awful, insignificant lord and get rid of you. Seducing Paul was your only way of staying at home and of getting the power you wanted.

To have an apple and eat an apple, you thought, biting on your lower lip.

Paul was inexperienced with women. Not that you were very experienced with men yourself but you were observant and interested in the subject. You studied books, interactions, gossip. Paul was not interested in such affairs at all. His whole life was studying and training, being moody and sad about his future role of the Duke.

Oh, the irony. He didn’t even want to bear this title that you so badly craved.

You closed the book loudly, startling him a little and getting his attention. He raised an eyebrow at you but you only smirked and gathered your things to go back inside.

At the supper table, you were acting moody and annoyed. You watched from the corner of your eye how it was catching Paul’s interest. When you excused yourself in the middle of the meal and left, visibly pissed at something, it didn’t take him long to follow you.

“Sister, wait,” he called for you in the corridor when you were near the doors leading to your chambers. “What is it? Talk to me,” he pleaded and grabbed your arm from behind.

“Oh, sweet Paul,” you smiled and turned around to face his confused face. He was sweet indeed. And he was a pretty boy, which you hadn’t been thinking of before for obvious reasons. But it wouldn’t be that difficult to force yourself to kiss him and lay with him. “You’re so adorable for worrying about me,” you sighed. “You’re the only one here who cares for me.”

“That is not true, (Y/N), you know that,” Paul fixed a hair strand on your face to push it off of your cheek. “Our father loves you and my mother… She cares about you, too. In her own way. I know that.”

“Your mother?” You snorted, looking up to meet his worried gaze. “She’s plotting already, don’t you know? She wants to marry me off and… And you as well,” you lied, looking away and pretending to get all shy.

“What?” Paul furrowed his brows as he let go of your arm. He was shocked to hear your revelation. “Am I not too young to get married? I mean, I know I could but… Shouldn’t I get older and wiser and…”

“I know,” you interrupted him and looked back into his pretty hazel eyes. “But what can I say? They want you to have a future Duchess already, so she can come here and be trained how to be a great leader one day by your side… To replace me…” You faked a shiver of your voice. “That was the reason behind my argument with our father. What did he tell you?” You bit on your lower lip.

“That…” Paul swallowed thickly, not wanting to anger you or offend you, “That… That you are angry about me inheriting. I wanted us to talk about it, actually. I wanted to explain to you that it is not my wish. I would love to give the title to you. I do not wish to rule,” Paul assured you and took you by your hands.

All those sweet, gentle gestures that you had been giving no second thoughts until now since they were innocent. But now, you savoured each one of them, coming up with ideas how to use them against him.

“He lied,” you sighed and looked down, sadly. You felt a small sting in your heart but you had to ignore it. “The argument was about me not wanting to leave Caladan… Not wanting to leave my home and my family. I don’t want to be sent away… I will miss you, you’re all I have,” you faked a sob and hugged him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck so he couldn’t see how fake your crying was. You sniffed a few times to make it more authentic.

Paul was surprised and a little petrified. However, he put his arms around you to pull you closer and rub your back.

“Oh, sweet (Y/N), my dear sister… I won’t let them send you away if you don’t want to… And not to anyone you wouldn’t desire yourself,” he assured you.

“I don’t want you to get married yet either… I… I…” You were looking for the right words as you took a step back to look at him again, faking a shivering lip and glossy eyes by blinking a lot. “I wish we were children again. Just you and I, always together. I don’t want anyone to ever come between us.”

“No one will come between us, (Y/N),” Paul squeezed your fingers. “I promise you that. You’re my sister, you forever will be. I love you,” he nodded and gave you puppy eyes.

“You… You don’t understand,” you pulled away and opened the doors to your room. “Go away, I shouldn’t be near you,” you took a deep and dramatic breath in. “It’s bad for me, I… Oh, I shouldn’t tell,” you sighed and walked inside your room, hoping your weird reaction would intrigue him.

And indeed, Paul followed you inside. He caught you by your wrist and made you stop as the doors closed behind him. You had him trapped between the wall and your body even though he was the one holding your hand. But his grip was gentle as usual.

“I don’t understand, (Y/N). Please, what’s wrong? I hate to see you like this,” he was worried and desperate to help you. You bit on your lip and smirked, changing the atmosphere quickly as you took a step ahead and got free from the grip of his hand.

Taking a step ahead, you forced him to retreat and his back hit the wall. Your faces were inches away and you batted your eyelashes innocently as you stared at his lips hungrily.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Paul swallowed thickly.

“You wanted to know what’s wrong with me,” you whispered seductively. “It’s a sinful disease, Paul, and believe me, I’ve tried to get rid of it but I can’t. You’re all I can think about,” your words were so soft and quiet, almost inaudible, for his ears only.

“We…We shouldn’t… “Paul whimpered pathetically. However, he didn’t even try to push you away. You raised an eyebrow at him, genuinely surprised at the lack of more definitive reaction.

“So, you want me to stop? Tell me then, sweet brother. I don’t want to hurt you,” you assured him and caressed his cheek with the fingertips of your right hand. He closed his eyelids and breathed in your scent. “Want me to stop?” You repeated the question teasingly.

Paul didn’t dare to say it out loud. He only shook his head as a no.

You had expected this task to be easy but you didn’t suspect it to be that easy. When you pressed your body closer to his, you felt how hard he was between his legs. Poor sweet Paul, so desperate for any girl’s attention, so inexperienced. He would really let his own sister take care of him. You chuckled and finally joined your lips together in a gentle kiss, not wanting to scare him away.

It was your first kiss, too, after all. And, for some reason, you really liked it. You liked that your first kiss belonged to your own brother, to your own flesh and blood. Even if Lady Jessica sends you away one day to marry another man, he would never possess you with his first marriage kiss for your own brother had the honour.

“I know you love your mother,” you whispered after breaking the kiss. Paul’s cheeks were flushed, his lips parted. He opened his eyelids slowly, looking at you in awe. It was adorable. “But she hates me,” you reminded him. “You must change her attitude towards me, you know. You don’t want them to send me away, don’t you? Who else is gonna kiss you so sweetly when I’m away?”

“I… I must leave now,” Paul swallowed thickly and pushed you away before running out of the room.

It left you confused but you knew that your confusion was no match with his. He was turned on and scared, he needed alone time. So, you gave him that and went to sleep yourself, a little anxious but also excited since the plan seemed to be working better than you had been expecting.

At first, Paul was ignoring you. Shyly looking away, blushing like crazy, avoiding your gaze. But you were relentless, always around him, talking to him with other people around, forcing him to answer and look at you. Eating by the same table, you would find moments when no one paid attention so you could treat yourself with fruit and honey in the most seductive manner while looking into his eyes. And you made sure to touch him briefly every time you walked past him. The poor boy was in physical and mental torture, you could see that and you only waited for him to snap.

You began to wear more revealing dresses and show off your body. But everything changed on the day you walked inside his bathroom, pretending it was an accident. He was in the bathtub, you just wanted to borrow a towel – a stupid and unbelievable excuse.

However, you didn’t walk in on him relaxing or taking a nap in the embrace of  warm water, no. You walked in on him being busy with himself with his lips parted, head thrown back and eyes shut close. The name he was moaning out loud was yours.

Gently, not wanting to startle him, you helped him to finish. And even though at first he was terrified of you seeing him like that he quickly gave in, too desperate to have any shame left in his body.

That act sealed your sinful union. He finally gave in to the ill-natured attraction and began to follow you around like the most loyal servant. And whenever you were left alone, he was like an overexcited puppy, wanting to kiss and be kissed, wanting to touch and be touched. Just in case – aware of the norms noble women were supposed to live by – you didn’t allow him to actually spoil your innocence. But everything else was allowed.

You were not only pleased with your seductive skills and the fact you had the future Duke wrapped around your little finger. Some twisted, wicked part of you was also happy from the fact that you managed to spoil your father’s favourite child; his little precious toy was broken now. Paul Atreides was rotten forever now. There was no going back from such sin.

You were damned already anyway. But it felt nice to drag someone down with you just for the sake of annoying your father and Lady Jessica.

Your own pride made you less attentive and careful, meanwhile Paul’s mother was very observant when it came to her son. He was the apple of her eye. She knew that his relationship with you had always been close but she noticed the sudden odd mood swings of Paul. First, he avoided you nearly shyly, only to follow you around even more than ever before again? You two had always been hugging sometimes, sharing an innocent kiss here and there but now Lady Jessica felt like it was getting more and more often for you to share affections. And she felt bad for suspecting a weirdly sexual energy behind those acts but after some time she stopped feeling guilty as she realised something had been going on behind her back indeed.

One time she decided to follow her son who went straight to your chambers after the training. Her footsteps were light and quiet, she took her time and gave you an opportunity to develop the situation. She pressed her ear to the doors and heard soft moans, sweet praises. Even though she had been suspecting it, she still felt shocked and disgusted to find out the truth.

Your heart stopped in your chest as the doors were pushed open and you spotted Lady Jessica catching you kissing her son. His cheeks went crimson red in an instant.

“Mother…” He swallowed thickly, standing up and clasping his hands in front of himself, trying to hide his erection.

Lady Jessica was speechless. Her eyes widened at first and then they squinted as she laid them on you.

“You little witch,” she hissed at you. “You twisted, evil minx. What have you done?”

“Me?” You acted innocent but you couldn’t hide a smirk.

Yes, it was scary to be found out. But it gave you satisfaction that she now was aware of how you had spoiled her sweet, precious son.

“Mother, don’t blame her!” Paul sweetly defended you, he was truly adorable. But he was ignored by the both of you. It was between you and her. He was only a tool.

“Have you got any idea what you’ve done?” Lady Jessica asked you harshly.

“What about it?” You asked and clenched your jaw.

What was the worst punishment anyway? You realised suddenly that even being sent away wouldn’t be so bad… The victory of spoiling Paul was the most delicious part of this situation.

“I will not tell your father,” Lady Jessica approached you to put her hands on Paul’s arms to walk him away gently. “For his own sake. He would be devastated. But this will be over. You better start packing,” she gave you a contemptuous look.

“Mother, no!” Paul pleaded. “I love her, I do. Can’t I marry (Y/N)? That’s what our ancestors were doing, why can’t we?”

You chuckled at him. He was so sweetly naive. Lady Jessica slapped his face.

“Stop talking nonsense!” She pushed him out of the room and then gave you one last look. “You look proud of yourself for bewitching my son. I’ll make sure you’ll pay for that.”

“And you’re not proud of bewitching my father?” You asked.

“I will send you to the Harkonnens, you spoiled brat. Their rot matches yours. But good luck with bewitching any of them,” she threatened.

The mention of the Harkonnens made you scared indeed. But you didn’t want to show it. Not in front of her.

But she was right. Wrapping Paul around your finger had been easy. Too easy. Doing the same to a Harkonnen would not.

However, you decided to keep your head high. You would never show fear or defeat in front of Lady Jessica.

Because of Lady Jessica’s words, you treated the marriage with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen like a challenge. With many attempts, you finally managed to tame him and it was your biggest pride.

Now you laughed at the memory of how proud you had been for spoiling Paul. It had been meaningless and too easy. Taming Feyd-Rautha to be your pet made you feel invincible.

Paul had been so naive and innocent that in the beginning of your marriage, he had still been sending you secret letters about his love and devotion. The news of his death had been nearly relieving – there would be no more pathetic, desperate letters, you had thought, while burning the last one.

Your husband knew about your past. Feyd-Rautha loved everything sick, twisted and rotten to the core. You had told him about Paul to impress him and it had worked. You had even allowed him to read some of the letters from Paul before burning them.

Finding out that Paul was alive after all, and he had gained power on Arrakis that you and your husband could only dream of, felt like a punch. You could see a switch in Feyd’s behaviour while you waited for the confrontation. He was observing you quietly and battling with his own thoughts. Feyd-Rautha had never been insecure before. But now he had a feeling you might still feel attraction to Paul Atreides. Especially now, when Paul was a powerful leader, too. After all, what spurred you on the most was power and influence.

What would Paul do seeing you again? You both wondered silently, without sharing your thoughts with each other. Would he want you back or would he toss you aside? Feyd feared that Paul still wanted you. You hoped he would. It would provide you safety no matter what outcome of that day would be.

Not that you didn’t love Feyd-Rautha. In the process of taming him, you had found yourself enamoured with him. You were two halves of the same rotten apple. But the most important thing for you was your own survival. Your own and the child’s under your heart.

The guards took you and other prisoners of the Arrakeen Palace to see the mysterious Muad’Dib but you all had already known who he truly was. The Reverend Mother, Princess Irulan and you – all the women amongst the prisoners – had known it for sure that the brave Fremen leader had to be an Atreides. You shared a connection with Paul, you were of the same father, the same surname, the same blood, the same flesh… Each other’s first lovers.

He looked different now; more mature. His hair was longer and curly instead of being neatly combed. His eyes were harsher and blue from the spice. You were nearly petrified at the sight of him because he… He looked handsome and attractive. You suddenly remembered all the shared kisses and affections and it made your cheeks burn.

“There you are, sweet sister,” Paul’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you. “I’ve been missing you,” he pointed out but you could spot harsh irony in his words.

From the corner of your eye you spotted Lady Jessica. Her power and influence had grown as well those past few months. She was a local Reverend Mother with her face covered under veils, chains and tattoos. She looked like the most intimidating and the most powerful person in the room. She probably was, even though you were standing next to The Emperor himself.

Lady Jessica had to already turn Paul against you. She had to tell him that you had been doing nothing but manipulating him for your own gain. You suddenly realised that you were in deep trouble and you instinctively searched for Feyd-Rautha’s hand to squeeze it. He was your husband, the father of your child, your perfect match made in hell. You had to keep him close, stay with him. Paul was never an option after all. He had been nothing but a game.

“Brother,” you greeted Paul with a nod of your head. “I thought you were dead.”

“You hoped,” Paul fixed you with a smirk.

“No,” you only answered.

“Come here,” he ordered. You felt the eyes of everyone watching intensely, wondering what was really going on. After all, the only people who knew about your unusual connection were Lady Jessica and Feyd-Rautha. Although you were suspecting that the Reverend Mother knew, too.

Feyd’s hand squeezed tighter around yours. He didn’t want you to leave his side. Walking up to Paul meant exposing yourself, you could be easily harmed. And it was not only about you at the moment. You were carrying the Harkonnen heir. The future Baron was growing under your heart.

“Come here,” Paul repeated the order, more harshly now. You let go of Feyd’s hand and walked away, feeling him move uncomfortably. However, he granted you personal freedom to make your own choices. He only watched carefully, like a guard dog that he was.

“I am here, brother,” you announced, standing right in front of Paul, facing him bravely. One of your hands rested on your abdomen.

“I am wiser now,” he told you. “I know that your intentions with me were never pure nor driven by your uncontrollable desires. You planned it all. Calculated.”

You remained silent, keeping your head high. You only heard the whispers of other people, wondering between each other what the conversation was about.

“And despite that knowledge, I must admit, I remain infatuated,” he confessed. “But you’re spoiled for me now. Your stench is one of the Harkonnens.”

“For I am a Harkonnen,” you nodded.

“Apparently, so am I,” he raised an eyebrow and you furrowed yours.

“How is that so?”

“The Baron… The late Baron,” Paul explained. “The one your husband slayed last night. He was my mother’s father.”

Everyone went silent. Those were two secrets that he had revealed – you didn’t want people to know that it was Feyd killing his uncle.

“You might have the Harkonnen blood flowing in your veins, dear brother, but you are no Harkonnen. You’re weak like an Atreides,” you spat out.

“Me? You, dear sister, you are weak. All your power, all your successes, they all only come from the men you have managed to wrap around your pretty little fingers. But you have achieved nothing yourself,” Paul’s jaw clenched as he reminded you with hatred burning through his eyes. “The only thing you actually did was to open your legs for the Harkonnen and carry his spawn,” Paul looked down at your womb with contempt.

There was so much jealousy in him, you spotted. He was not angry at you for manipulating him. He was angry at you for carrying another man’s child. And there was nothing more dangerous than a rejected lover.

Paul grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand away, exposing your swollen abdomen.

“You cannot touch her,” Feyd barked and Paul looked up behind your shoulder to meet your husband’s gaze.

“There he is, my sister’s new pet,” Paul’s words were braver than you expected. No one would dare to speak to Feyd-Rautha like that.

“It’s a nasty thing to be jealous,” your husband spoke. “You see, she is my wife, she lays with me every night. You are nothing but a tossed aside toy who has only been given a taste but never a full meal.”

Paul was right, you suddenly realised. That you held no real power, that it only came from the men you had associated yourself with. Because now they were talking about you as if you were an object.

“Are we here to witness some wicked family drama? Spare me that,” The Emperor’s voice made you all turn your heads to look at him. He was disgusted and annoyed.

“You are here to pay for what you’ve done to our father,” Paul left your side to approach The Emperor and you took the opportunity to hurry back to Feyd. You stood behind him, clinged to his muscular arm, feeling protected by his strong, armoured body.

“Stop your pathetic show, Atreides,” The Emperor smirked. “There is a massed armada in orbit. You’re facing a full invasion.”

“How can you be so sure the Great Houses are here for me? They may be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think?” Paul asked him. “I am Paul Atreides, son of Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis!”

“He’s a fraud,” Feyd chuckled ironically. “My wife is the Duchess Atreides, I am the Governor of this world.”

“And so it is,” The Emperor nodded. “You’re nothing but a Fremen terrorist.”

“Gurney,” Paul called out the name you recognised. But when you looked at the man, he had no love nor sympathy in his eyes for you. So, you showed none as well.

“My Lord,” Gurney nodded at your brother.

“Send a warning to all ships. If the Great Houses attack, our atomics will obliterate all the spice fields,” Paul threatened. 

He was a madman now, you thought as Gurney nodded.

“You’re out of your mind,” The Emperor pointed out what everyone was thinking,

“He’s bluffing,” your husband spoke up as you clinged to his arm even tighter. You had a feeling already how this confrontation would end up like. It was either you and Feyd or Paul. There was no other way. And Paul’s behaviour was worrying. You were starting to suspect he had higher chances of winning than you had been predicting.

He wouldn’t kill you. He still cared for you, perhaps he still craved you. He would never be nice to you, but he’d keep you close, of that you were sure. But he would never let your husband or your child live. And that was the moment when you realised that you didn’t only care about your own self.

You cared about Feyd and you cared about your son. Way more than about your life. You’d rather die alongside them than live a few more decades alongside your brother without them.

“Consider what you’re about to do, Paul Atreides,” The Reverend Mother warned him.

“Silence!” Paul screamed, using The Voice, startling everyone in the process.

It was no secret that this ability was reserved only for the Bene Gesserit. For the women of the order. A man possessing this knowledge was not only dangerous but also extremely powerful.

You were doomed, you thought, covering your abdomen with one of your hands again. Your unborn son was your only hope. The Reverend Mother had mentioned before that he was out of control. The Harkonnen medics had outdone themselves with their genetic manipulations while helping you to create life. His abilities could interfere with Paul’s.

But it was only an unborn baby with its brain not even yet fully developed. You couldn’t possibly count on him to save you. Right?

“Abomination,” The Reverend Mother muttered to herself.

“Message sent, my Lord,” Gurney announced.

“On what authority was this message sent?” You spoke up again, finally gaining the courage although it was easy to do so when you were still hiding behind Feyd. “I am the Duchess Atreides. The leaders of the Great Houses know that, too. They will not listen to the threats of terrorists!”

“As a servant of the Imperium, you will bow at my feet!” The Emperor snapped. Paul’s behaviour was getting out of control.

“Your feet?! You’ll be lucky to keep your head!” Paul yelled at him and walked up to all of you as he took a contemptuous look at Princess Irulan. “I’ll take the hand of your daughter,” he announced and you swallowed thickly at his plan.

So… He did not want to marry you anymore. Perhaps you wouldn’t be as safe as you had suspected before.

“She will remain safe,” Paul’s voice softened as he spoke. “And we will rule together over The Empire. But you…” he looked at The Emperor again. “You have to answer for my father.”

“Do you know why I killed him?” The Emperor squinted his eyes and despite feeling very detached from your family those past few months, you felt a little sting in your heart at the mention of your father.

You realised that now you were standing by the side of a man who was responsible for his death. What a twisted world you lived in. And what twisted things you had been forced to do to survive.

The Emperor approached Paul now as well, they were facing each other and you had to admit that despite his age, he was a brave man to do that. Everyone claimed he was not in his best shape anymore and that was true but the strength of his mind and spirit was still visible.

“Because he was a man who believed in the rules of the heart. But the heart is not meant to rule,” The Emperor explained. “In other words… your father was a weak man.”

You had this conversation before. With the Baron Harkonnen. Late Baron Harkonnen, you remembered. Now your husband was bearing the title. But yes, a few months earlier, in a dark room, you had this conversation with the Baron. You had agreed with him then. And despite the pain in Paul’s eyes, you had a feeling he was agreeing with this, too.

And Paul agreeing with such a statement could only mean that he no longer wanted to play nice. He had discarded your father’s ways and chose the path of violence.

“You will be defeated and your Empire will be mine,” Paul drawled out through gritted teeth before laying his eyes on you and Feyd. “And the cancer of this Empire that is The Harkonnen dynasty will be erased,” he added. “I will tear your spawn out of her body and take your wife as my concubine,” he told your husband. You felt his muscles tensing.

“The only thing you take, will be your death at the end of my blade,” Feyd warned him and took a step ahead, ignoring the way you were clutching onto his arm, trying to make him stay.

“You don’t even have one on you,” Paul pointed out.

“Then spare me a weapon and stand to fight me like a man,” Feyd dared him.

“Accept mine,” The Emperor offered and you stiffened at the realisation that it was not only the blade he was giving your husband but also the fate of the outcome of this day, the fate of the Empire, the fate of his and his daughter’s life. Feyd nodded and you approached him one last time before the duel.

“Do not fail me,” you pleaded harshly.

“You want these to be the last words you tell your husband before his death?” Feyd teased with a smirk. Fearless as usual; he never feared the end of his life. Not in combat at least. He had told you already that this sort of death was everything he had been wishing for. To die like a warrior.

“No,” you shook your head with a nervous smile. “So make sure they won’t be.”

MASTERLIST

[j-k-writes]

The Bronze Targaryen - 5

Summary - Two and a half moons after (Y/N)'s arrival in Kingslanding he must grapple with his new title as a dragonlord, wedding festivites, his grandsire's sudden illness, and his relationship with his father. The prince tries to balance all of this as the royal wedding looms over him.

Warnings - minor injuries, general HOTD warnings, drinking, canon character death, consummation scene (its minor and a fade to black)

I have decided to mold the lore to my own desires because there is almost next to nothing on House Royce during this time period. Also was going to break this into two parts because its so long but wanted all the wedding festvites to take place during one chapter.

(Y/N) winced as the maester prodded at his nose, the maester made humming noises as he examined the prince’s injuries. He applied a few plaster’s to (Y/N)’s nose, before wrapping it in soaked wool. 

“His nose shall heal fine, my prince.” 

Daemon nodded, “Thank you, you may go.” 

The maester bowed to the two princes, gathering his supplies and leaving (Y/N) alone with his father. Daemon watched as the man left the room, and waited until the doors were shut before turning on his son. He crossed his arms leaning back against a chair, and (Y/N) braced himself for a lecture. 

“How are you feeling?” 

(Y/N) blinked, “What?” 

Daemon pushed himself off the chair, making his way over toward (Y/N). He slowly reache

d his hand out, gently tracing the scratches and bruises on (Y/N)’s face, and (Y/N) was too shocked at his father’s actions to react. “Are you in pain?” 

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) said, looking up at his father. “I’ve had worse.” 

Daemon frowned, and (Y/N) wondered how much his mother had told him of his childhood mishaps. “What were you doing so far off Rosby Road?” 

(Y/N) flushed, “I- uh, snuck out.” 

“You snuck out?” His father’s face lit up, and he took a step back laughing and shaking his head. “How did your uncle react?” 

“Well he doubled my guard for one.” (Y/N) said, remembering his Uncle’s fury when (Y/N) showed up the next morning, face covered in blood and dirt. He had some choice words for the young heir, and (Y/N) was confident Daemon had heard his brother’s opinion on the matter as soon as he stepped foot into the keep. “But he was more interested in the dragon than my misbehavior.” 

“Ah,” Daemon smirked. “Yes, it must have been quite a shock.” 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes at his father, “I know you did something.” 

“What did I do, (Y/N)?” Daemon asked, raising an eyebrow at his son. “I did not drag Vermithor to you, or you to him for that matter. Vermithor made his choice.” 

“And it’s just a coincidence that as soon as you leave for Dragonstone, Vermithor leaves and seeks me out randomly.” 

“Perhaps it was fate.” Daemon shrugged. 

“You don’t expect me to believe that.” 

Daemon approached (Y/N), placed his hands on his shoulders. “It does not matter what you believe, all that matters are the facts. And the facts are that you have claimed Vermithor, you should be proud.” 

“I did not wish to claim a dragon, I never have.” (Y/N) said, and his father’s face hardened. 

“You are my son.” Daemon said, and (Y/N) hissed as his grip on his shoulder tightened. “You are a dragon, you cannot escape that.” 

His father’s face softened at (Y/N)’s expression. He released the boy, and seemed to hesitate before smoothing his hair back out of his face, “You should rest, you have had quite the number of shocks these past few days.” 

(Y/N) watched as father turned on his heel, and exited the chambers gently shutting the doors behind him.

“Lykirī.” (Y/N) smiled, as Vermithor pushed his snout into his chest. He pet the dragon with a gloved hand, laughing as the dragon continued to push him. “You must relax if you wish to fly.” 

(Y/N) had spent almost a week avoiding Vermithor after the dragon chased him down in the woods. Hoping that if he ignored him long enough the dragon would take the hint and leave, but eventually the Dragonkeepers sought him out, telling him that Vermithor had been untamable since he’d arrived in the Dragonpit. So (Y/N) resigned himself to the life of a dragonrider. He’d spent every day since then with the dragon, slowly but surely adjusting to his presence, and Vermithor had calmed drastically with (Y/N)’s visits. 

(Y/N) had taken to flying easily, much to his father’s delight and, as much as he hid it, his own. Although he had felt sick at the idea of claiming a dragon at first, he had come to find pride in the quick developments in his relationship with Vermithor. 

Rhaenyra too found delight in her betrothed’s new life. 

Anytime (Y/N) was free Rhaenyra was dragging him to the dragonpit, insisting Vermithor and Syrax go flying together. Viserys, at first happy to have another dragon in the family, soon grew inpatient with the two teens. Irritated at their constant absence from court, but (Y/N) paid him little mind. (Y/N) had no real place in his court, and he had not yet raised Rhaenyra, his heir, from the role of cupbearer. 

(Y/N) saddled Vermithor, leaning down to whisper to the dragon, “Sōvēs” 

The wind was cool against his face, blowing the strands of hair that had escaped his bun around in his face. (Y/N) had been wishing for clean and open air since he’d arrived in Kingslanding, this just isn’t how he expected to find it. Vermithor rumbled under him, and he laughed, leaning down so that he could rub the dragon’s neck. 

“I know,” (Y/N) spoke, almost shouting to be heard against the wind. “I am sorry I was late.” 

He’d been stuck in court all day, listening to his father and uncle bicker over details of the upcoming royal wedding. His uncle, ever the peacekeeper, had wanted Rhaenyra and (Y/N) to be married in the faith of the seven, as he was to Aemma and later Alicent, his father had other ideas however. 

“I do not worship the New Gods, uncle.” (Y/N) pointed out. 

“It is the tradition of the royal family.” The Grand Maester spoke up, as the other lords of the chamber had gone silent as soon as the tensions started to rise, seemingly fearful of angering any member of the royal family. Not that (Y/N) could blame them, he’d heard stories of his father’s infamous fits of anger. 

“(Y/N) follows the Old Gods like his mother,” His father looked pained to speak the words, but (Y/N) gave him an appreciative nod all the same. “And I have not known Rhaenyra to spend her days in the sept. We are Targaryens, they should marry in the tradition of Old Valyria.” 

“The faith-” 

“Fuck the faith.” Daemon spat. “I will not ask my son to forsake his gods so that some fat septon is comfortable, and we cannot bring a weirwood here so this is the only equitable compromise I see.” 

His uncle and the members of his council had grumbled at the idea, but eventually they conceded knowing this was an argument they could not win without insulting someone. His uncle dismissed them all, brows pinched in frustration. (Y/N) had caught his father’s arm on the way out, stopping him from walking away. 

“Thank you.” He did not meet his father’s eyes. “I know faith is not important to you, but it is to me so- just- thank you.” 

His father gently cupped his cheek, bringing (Y/N)’s eyes up to meet his. His father smiled at him, “You do not have to thank me. It is no secret that I hold no love for your mother’s house, but you do, and you are my blood. I will always defend you.” 

His father’s words still hung over his head by the time (Y/N) and Vermithor had returned to the Dragonpit. 

Rhaenyra was waiting for him as he dismounted, accompanied by a slew of Kingsguard and a royal carriage. The Kingsguard watched Vermithor warily as he grumbled, huffing as though he could sense (Y/N)’s apprehension at the sight laid out before him. 

 “Lykirī.” (Y/N) whispered, urging the bronze beast to return to the Dragonpit. Vermithor huffed one last time at the men, causing (Y/N) to chuckle, before returning. (Y/N) walked over to Rhaenyra, untying his hair and letting it tumble down to his shoulders. “That is quite the party, Nyra.” 

She sighed, “Our presence is required at the keep. We must be readied to greet the lords arriving at the court.” 

A Kingsguard opened the door of the carriage, and (Y/N) offered his hand for Rhaenyra to take. She took his hand, using it as leverage to step into the carriage and (Y/N) followed suit, taking the seat across from her. 

“What troubles you?” 

Rhaenyra blinked at (Y/N), “I am not troubled.” 

“Rhaenyra,” (Y/N) said, smiling slightly, “I can tell something is troubling you. Is it tonight?” 

“No,” She shook her head, leaning forward and placing her hand on (Y/N)’s knee. “No, it’s not tonight, it is this morning. My father is still blind to the schemes of some of those present in his court, they seek to undermine our family in favor of the Hightower children.” 

“Your father will not claim Aegon over you. You are his heir, you will be Queen and no scheming lord can change that.” 

Rhaenyra smiled, squeezing his knee slightly before releasing him and sitting back. (Y/N) turned to look out of the carriage, leaning back into the cushions and closing his eyes. He heard Rhaenyra chuckle softly, before the exhaustion of the day overtook him and he slipped away to sleep.

“You seem nervous.” (Y/N) turned, coming face to face with his cousin. He gave his best attempt at a smile, he fiddled with the collar of his shirt, and Gerold stepped forward. He adjusted the leather jerkin, allowing (Y/N) to breathe easier. “It is odd to see you in such formal attire.” 

(Y/N) laughed, “At least they don’t have dragons on them.” 

“No? I have heard a rumor that you’ve become quite the dragonlord in your absence.” 

(Y/N) reddened, ducking his head slightly, “It was an accident.” 

His cousin laughed, patting him on the shoulder, “There is no need to be nervous, cousin.” 

His cousin smiled at him one last time before joining his other cousin in the precession line. (Y/N) frowned at the sight of Gunthor, he’d been informed when his family and their court had arrived that his grandsire had fallen ill not long after (Y/N) departed, and in his heirs absence his cousin Gunthor, second in line, had taken his place as regent. His grandsire had been too ill to make the journey to Kingslanding, sending (Y/N) his well wishes and Gunthor in his place. 

A sudden hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. He turned his head to catch his father smiling, he squeezed his shoulder. “The tailors did well, you look like a prince.” 

“I am a prince.” (Y/N) said, and his father’s smile widened. 

“Yes, you are. Remember that, as there are those that would hope you forget.” His father nodded in the direction of Gunthor, and (Y/N)’s expression soured. 

“I do not trust him, I cannot say why but-” (Y/N) frowned, staring at his cousin’s interactions with the Valemen around him. “He did not write to me to tell me of my grandsire’s illness. I am the heir, I should be regent, not him, and yet in my absence he swooped in.” 

His father nodded, “Good. You must recognize the snakes before they strike.” 

His father stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the Valemen. “I am aware that we do not have the best relationship-” 

(Y/N) snorted, and Daemon laughed rolling his eyes. “Yes I know, but you are my son, my blood. And I would like to be not just your sire, but your father as well. I was not there in your youth, let me be there now.” 

(Y/N) frowned, hesitating. He swallowed before finally speaking, “May we speak of this after the feast?” 

“Of course,” His father lightly touched his cheek, “Come we should join the others.” 

He and his father took their places at the front of the party, Gunthor to (Y/N)’s left and Daemon to his right. (Y/N) took a deep breath as the doors opened, keeping his gaze on the two banners bearing the sigils of House Targaryen and House Royce hung in the back of the Great Hall as his family entered. 

“Ser Gunthor of House Royce. Acting Lord of Runestone, Keeper of the Gates of the Moon. And Prince Daemon Targaryen. And his son and heir to Runestone Prince (Y/N) Targaryen the future King Consort.” 

The guests of the hall stood, clapping as they walked down to the high table. The amount of eyes on him made (Y/N) uneasy, but he kept his head high, posture exuding the confidence expected of one of his station. (Y/N) made eye contact with Rhaenyra at the end of the hall who offered him a comforting smile, he nodded to her. 

They paused at the beginning of the steps, bowing to the King, before Rhaenyra stepped around the table making her way toward the crowd. (Y/N) stepped forward, meeting her halfway, he took her hand as his father had instructed him when going over the etiquette required of him at the feast. 

“You must act every bit the king you will one day be, no matter how unused to these events you may be.” His father had told him. (Y/N) scoffed at the advice, he was raised to be the Lord of Runestone, he knew how to act at a feast. 

As (Y/N) pressed a chaste kiss to Rhaenyra’s hand, and claps echoed around the hall, he cursed himself for not taking his father’s advice seriously. He had never known a feast quite like this, hosting the most important lords of the whole of Westeros. Lords he’d never met before like the Lannisters, Hightowers, and Velaryons. He took his place by Rhaenyra’s side at the table, his father and cousin taking the seats by his left. 

He let out a breath as he sat down, scanning the crowd as his uncle started to speak. Rhaenyra grabbed his hand under the table, squeezing it in reassurance, it was only then that he allowed himself to relax, if only slightly. 

"Be welcome,” His uncle smiled out at the crowd, “As we join together in celebration. Tonight is only its beginning. We honor one of Westeros' oldest houses, and a fierce ally to the crown, House Royce. Just as House Targaryen reaches back to the blood of Old Valyria, House Royce reaches back to the blood of the first men. With House Targaryen and H-"

Viserys paused, and everyone averted their gaze to where his lingered. (Y/N) tensed once more as Queen Alicent Hightower made her entrance into the hall. The color of her dress a clear statement to anyone who knew any of the histories. Reluctantly (Y/N) made his way to his feet with the rest of the guests, he shot an amused glance to his side where his father still sat, eyes narrowed at the young queen. 

Alicent addressed Rhaenyra, “Congratulations, step-daughter. What a blessing this is for you.” 

Rhaenyra gave no indication of thanks, and Alicent kissed Viserys on the cheek before taking her seat beside him. 

He’d not yet had any real interactions with the young queen, only knowing things told to him by Rhaenyra and Daemon. He had taken them with a grain of salt, wanting to make his own judgment of the girl, but with the blatant display she’d just shown to the lord’s of Westeros, (Y/N) decided that maybe Rhaenyra and Daemon had been right in their worries. Perhaps the Hightowers did have their own intentions with the crown. 

“Please be seated.” 

(Y/N) traced the rim of his empty goblet as his uncle stood silently, only picking his eyes up from the table when he started to speak. 

"With House Targaryen and House Royce united, once again, I hope to herald in a second Age of Dawn and Dragons in Westeros.” Viserys spoke, and the hall erupted into applause.

“And after tonight’s small affair,” Laughter sounded through the halls, and (Y/N) had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Seven days of tournament and feasting! And at the end of it all, a royal wedding. Between my daughter, my heir, your future queen. And Prince (Y/N) Targaryen, heir to Runestone.” 

As Viserys sat, and everyone else followed suit, Rhaenyra and (Y/N) rose from theirs. They approached the middle of the aisle, and began their dance. (Y/N) had never been much of a dancer, and suffered through the lessons given to both he and Rhaenyra. 

“I feel like a fool.” (Y/N) whispered as Rhaenyra and he side stepped each other. 

“You are doing wonderfully.” Rhaenyra whispered back, taking her place back to back with him. “Ignore everyone, pretend it is just you and me.” 

When they finished, bowing to one another the halls once again erupted in applause. (Y/N) took Rhaenyra’s hands in his, kissing them softly as she gave him a knowing smile. As the rest of the courtiers took their places on the dance floor, (Y/N) tried to escape back to the high table, longing for a cup of wine. He was stopped before he could reach the table much to his dismay. 

“My Prince.” The lady, who (Y/N) did not recognize, blushed, bowing to him. “May I have this dance?” 

(Y/N) gaped at her, before remembering who and where he was. “Yes, yes of course Lady-” 

“Reyne.” 

“Lady Reyne. (Y/N) smiled, mourning his cup of wine. He gestured toward the lords and lady’s dancing, “Lead the way.” 

He had to dance with five young ladies before he finally found his escape. He flopped, very unprince-like into his seat, immediately grabbing the cup of wine laid out in front of him. His father laughed, waving over a servant to refill the cup once (Y/N) had finished. 

“Not a fan of dancing?” Daemon smirked, “Or is it the ladies asking you to dance you are not fond of?” 

“Both.” (Y/N) spoke over the rim of his cup, “They only wish to dance with me because I am to marry Rhaenyra, if I were just the heir to Runestone they’d pay me little mind.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Daemon said, “You are a comely young man.” 

(Y/N) smirked, “Ladies don’t wish to dance with comely young men.” 

“Neither do lords.” His father raised his eyebrows, humor sparkling in his eyes. 

(Y/N) shrugged, smiling at his father’s tone, “You have been talking to Rhaenyra.” 

Daemon leaned close, patting his son on the leg, “I am just glad you two have made this match work for the both of you.” 

“We are not married yet, father.” (Y/N) reminded, “Things may yet just fall apart.” 

Before his father could speak, another lady made her way to the table. She bowed to both (Y/N) and Daemon. “Prince (Y/N), may I have this dance?” 

Daemon snickered, taking (Y/N)’s cup out of his hand. “Well go on, dance.” 

His father had disappeared from the table when (Y/N) had finished, and his cousins were wrapped up in conversation with a lord (Y/N) did not recognize. He made his way to the sidelines, stealing a full cup of wine, and pressing his back against the wall to avoid being spotted. 

He spied his father in the middle of the dancing, twirling Laena Velayron around, and (Y/N) frowned. His father’s wife, (Y/N)’s own mother, had died only three moons ago, and as far as (Y/N) knew Laena Velayron was engaged to some Brasvosi. 

“You would never know this feast was in your honor the way you frown.” 

(Y/N) turned to face the owner of the voice, smiling as Ser Harwin took a place next to him. “Ser Harwin.” 

“Are you not enjoying the feast, my prince?” Harwin smiled, leaning closer to the prince. 

“I am enjoying the wine, some of the company less so.” (Y/N) said, and Harwin laughed. 

“I understand the sentiment.” 

(Y/N) brought the cup up to his lips, smiling around its rim. Harwin grabbed an empty cup, flagging down a servant who filled both of their cups. (Y/N) watched as his father continued to dance with Laena, and Rhaenyra moved through the crowd, followed closely by Ser Laenor. 

Harwin raised his cup up, and (Y/N) followed suit, “To your marriage.” 

“My marriage.” (Y/N) and Harwin laughed as their cups met. 

(Y/N) spent the rest of the feast by Harwin’s side. Harwin had stopped drinking by his fourth cup, watching in amusement as the prince got drunker and drunker with each cup of wine. As the feast died down, and the lords and ladies took their leave, Harwin had found (Y/N) a seat, and was watching him ramble fondly. 

“I do not care for this court, Harwin.” (Y/N) sighed, leaning his head back. “It was simpler on Runestone, but here, here there are too many lords I do not know. I do not trust them.” 

Harwin laughed, patting the prince’s leg, “Perhaps a hall filled with those lords is not the place to have this conversation, my prince.” 

“(Y/N).” (Y/N) said, straightening. He looked Harwin in the eye, placing his hand on top of the knights. “Please call me (Y/N).” 

Harwin’s eyes softened, “Of course, (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) smiled at the knight, keeping his hand where it was before two twin coughs behind him startled him. (Y/N) jumped, spilling his cup of wine onto himself. Harwin laughed as (Y/N) turned to look at the people behind him. Daemon and Rhaenyra stood above him, both with twin amused smiles on their faces. They had never looked more related, (Y/N) mused. 

“Having fun?” Rhaenyra asked. 

“I was informed that this feast was for me, and that I should try to have some fun.” 

Daemon laughed at his son's words, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him up out of the seat. “I think it’s time you take your leave.” 

Harwin stood, grabbing (Y/N) to help Daemon keep the prince upright. Rhaenyra sighed, a smile still gracing her face. 

“I am glad you enjoyed yourself, (Y/N).” Rhaenyra said. “But perhaps next time you can entertain yourself with less wine.” 

(Y/N) stepped forward, stumbling slightly and both Harwin and Daemon’s eyes widened as he moved. Freeing himself from the men’s grasps, (Y/N) approached Rhaenyra pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“I am sorry that I left you on your lonesome.” (Y/N) said, letting his hand rest on her arm. Rhaenyra smiled, at his words or his drunkenness (Y/N) could not tell. 

She pressed her palm to his cheek, “You are fine. I enjoyed myself plenty.” 

(Y/N) nodded. “Good, because this is for both of us. So we should both enjoy ourselves.” 

“(Y/N),” Rhaenyra laughed, shaking her head. “Let us get you to your chambers.” 

Daemon and Harwin grabbed one of his arms, ignoring (Y/N)’s protests that he could walk by himself. Rhaenyra followed the three men, laughing at (Y/N)’s attempts to break free from the two men, and his drunken rambles to all three of the people accompanying him. When they finally reached the room, with some incident much to Harwin and Daemon’s dismay and Rhaenyra’s delight, Daemon turned to Harwin. 

“I have him from here, Ser Harwin will you please make sure the princess makes it back to her room.” 

Harwin nodded, and Rhaenyra pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s cheek. “I will see you tomorrow at the tourney.” 

“Goodnight, (Y/N), Prince Daemon.” 

(Y/N) and Daemon bid the both of them goodnight, before the guards at (Y/N)’s door open the doors to his chamber and Daemon practically dragged his son into the room. Daemon instructe (Y/N) to lift his arms, and when he did he undid the jerkin and brought the tunic over his head, tossing it to the side. 

“Undo your boots.” 

(Y/N) complied, and when he was done Daemon led him toward the bed. When (Y/N) was seated on the bed, Daemon turned to leave, but (Y/N) grabbed his arm and stopped him in his tracks. “We have not had our conversation.” 

Daemon smiled, “Rest, we will have it tomorrow I promise.” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Alright.” 

Daemon pressed him down into the bed slowly, pushing the blankets back so that (Y/N) could get underneath them. He brushed (Y/N)’s sweaty hair out of his face, smoothing it down not unlike his mother used to do when he was ill. (Y/N) leaned into the touch, and Daemon smiled. 

“Sleep.” 

(Y/N) closed his eyes, slipping quickly into rest. But not before he felt the ghost of lips pressed against his forehead.

(Y/N) hated himself the next morning. 

He closed his eyes as he bathed, letting the warm water alleviate some of his migraine. He dressed slowly, groaning as a loud knock sounded throughout the room. 

“Come in.” 

Daemon strolled into the room, taking a look at his son’s appearance before chuckling. “How are you feeling?” (Y/N) just glared at him, causing Daemon to laugh again. He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.” 

Daemon placed a small vile in front of him, and (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s watered down dreamwine,” Daemon said, “For your head.” 

“Oh,” (Y/N) took the vial, opened it and sniffed it a bit before downing it. “Thank you.” 

Daemon nodded, turning to leave. 

“Are you not here to continue our conversation?” (Y/N) called out, and Daemon turned back to face him. 

“I just wanted to see if you were well.” 

“I am.” (Y/N) smiled, “I just have a headache, I will live.” 

Daemon nodded, taking a seat across from (Y/N). He looked nervous at the thought of continuing their conversation from before the feast, it endeared (Y/N) to see his father’s usual tough exterior come crumbling down at the idea of a conversation. 

Giving his father some respite, (Y/N) changed the topic of conversation, “I saw you dancing with Laena Velayron last night. Is she not already betrothed?” 

“A man cannot dance with a lady?” Daemon asked, although his expression gave him away. 

“Not when that man is you, father.” (Y/N) said. “Do you wish to get remarried? You have no real need for any more heirs.” 

Daemon shrugged, “Perhaps I wish for company.” 

“You are lonely?” (Y/N) almost laughed at the thought. He could not imagine the so-called Lord of Flea Bottom wanting for the comforts of a lady. 

“Well my only son prefers to spend his time at Runestone pretending I don’t exist.” 

(Y/N)’s mood soured, and he frowned. He turned away from his father, crossing his arms like he wasn’t a man of seven and ten and instead a boy of nine. “You did not give me a choice. I was just saving myself from the pain I would feel when you inevitably wouldn’t arrive.” 

“I know.” Daemon ran his hand down his face. “I did not mean that I apologize.” 

“You know you have missed my last ten name days.” (Y/N) whispered. 

“I know.” Daemon said. “I sent you presents but I know that does not make up for my absence.” 

“I never received any gifts.” 

Daemon looked up in confusion, his expression contorted before he let out a bitter laugh. “No, of course you didn’t. Your mother probably never gave them to you. She never held any love for me.” 

“I remember you did not hold much for her either.” (Y/N) spat. “She told me that you fled Runestone the night after I was born, and did not return until my first name day only to flee that night as well.” 

“I was a boy, no older than you are now.” 

“That is no excuse!” 

“No it’s not and I have regretted my decisions every day! I was scared, (Y/N)!” Daemon stood. “When I found out your mother was pregnant I was terrified. We held no love toward each other, and I feared that our hatred toward each other would impact you. I was an idiot boy so I fled. Then you were born, and I was still just this boy, and you were so pure and I could not corrupt that with my hatred so I feld again. I fled again and again, because I was scared I could not be a good father to you, as I could not be a good husband to your mother and she could not be a good wife to me. When I finally realized what an imbecile I had been it was too late, you had no idea who I was.” 

(Y/N) remembered the day of his fourth name day vaguely. 

“(Y/N),” His mother gestured to a skinny man with pale hair and eyes like (Y/N). “Your father is here to see you.” 

The man approached him, and (Y/N) stepped back, placing his mother between him and this stranger. The man’s face fell, and he stumbled back. 

“Perhaps it would be best if I left.” 

“Daemon-” 

“It’s fine.” The man handed a wrapped package to his mother. “Give this to him.”

"You're running? Again?"

"Look at him Rhea-"

"No, run. Like you always do."

The man opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed to think better of it. He turned on his heel and left, and (Y/N)'s mother scoffed.

He had seen his father only a few times after that day, and their meetings had always been brief and curt. His mother had certainly not helped (Y/N)’s view of his father, only ever nodding and staying silent when (Y/N) would complain. He had once asked her why Daemon did not stay for more than a night, and his mother had replied that his father hated the Vale and many of those who resided there. It had crushed (Y/N) to hear, but after learning of the gifts his father had sent that he had not received he could only wonder how much of his own hatred for his father was just what he learned to feel from his mother. 

“I am sorry for my absence.” Daemon said. “I can never make up those lost years, and I know my youth and stubbornness is no excuse but-” 

His father took a deep breath, “(Y/N), I wish- if you would allow, for us to start again. I know I cannot ask you to forget the years I was not there for you, but allow me to start again.” 

“I understand.” (Y/N) said, “I cannot forgive-” 

“-I wouldn’t ask you to-” 

“-but I understand. I understand more than I did at the very least.” (Y/N) said, and the tension in his father’s shoulders eased. (Y/N) smiled, it was probably a bit pained, (Y/N)’s head throbbing even more with the revelations of the morning. “We can try to start again. I make no promises, but we can try.” 

His father smiled, a genuine smile that (Y/N) had never seen across his father’s face before. “Thank you.”

“You are not participating, (Y/N)?” 

(Y/N) looked at the queen from where he was seated next to Rhaenyra, shaking his head politely. “I am not a knight, Queen Alicent.” 

Alicent looked him up and down, the motion making him squirm a bit. She did not respond but she nodded, turning her gaze back to the tourney fields. 

His father was not participating in the tourney either, instead taking a seat in the stands. Ser Harwin was participating though, much to Rhaenyra’s delight. (Y/N) did not find much delight in tourney’s, bloodshed was not a game to be played. 

In all honesty, (Y/N) was bored watching the tourney. Ser Criston had won, wearing Alicent’s favor which (Y/N) could tell irritated Rhaenyra. By the time the melee rolled around the next day (Y/N) was dreading spending the hot day in the stands of the tourney grounds. 

“May I have your favor, princess.” 

Rhaenyra laughed, giving Harwin a small piece of cloth. He tucked it into his armor, turning to (Y/N) who smiled. 

“I don’t have a favor,” (Y/N) said, and Harwin smiled, cheeks reddening slightly. “But I wish you luck.” 

“Thank you, (Y/N).” 

Their luck and favors did Harwin no favors in the melee. Rhaenyra had shrieked when Cristion’s morningstar made contact with Harwin’s collarbone, shattering it and his elbow. But the worst injury of the day had been to Ser Joffrey, and (Y/N) could not get Laenor’s cries out of his mind even as he fell asleep that night. 

There were no more tourney’s after that as a solemn mood had fallen over the royal court. Ser Harwin would live (Y/N) and Rhaenyra discovered, but Ser Joffrey was not likely to. And as it happened six days later, Joffrey passed, and Ser Laenor was inconsolable. Rhaenyra and (Y/N) both tried, even if (Y/N) was not as close with his cousin as Rhaenyra was, but in the end the knight took his leave back to Driftmark before the wedding even happened. 

(Y/N) spent the night before the wedding with his father. His father told him the story of his wedding with (Y/N)’s mother, describing how (Y/N)’s grandfather, Baelon, had to drag Daemon to Runestone. 

“If it is any comfort,” (Y/N) mused. “You had to drag me to Kingslanding.” 

Daemon laughed, “I did. But you will have a much happier marriage than your mother and I.” 

(Y/N) lifted his cup, “One can hope.” 

The wedding itself snuck up on (Y/N), the events of the week leading up to it not allowing him to worry about the ceremony. It was only now that he was dressed in red and gold Valyrian robes, standing atop Rhaenys’ hill, surrounded by the lords and ladies of Westeros, that the nerves started to reach him. 

He could hear the distant roars of the dragon’s in the dragon pit as the priest spoke. (Y/N) lifted the dragonglass blade, handed to him by the priest. He made quick eye contact with his father, who only nodded, before slicing Rhaenyra’s bottom lip. He gathered the blood from the cut, dragging his thumb down her forehead. Rhaenyra took her own blade, repeating the action on (Y/N) before slicing her palm.(Y/N) dragged the blade against his palm, taking Rhaenyra’s hand in his. They joined their blood as the priest spoke. 

(Y/N) took the cup handed to him, drinking from it, before handing it to Rhaenyra who did the same. The priest finished his rites, and (Y/N) cupped Rhaenyra’s cheek, he could taste the blood as he brought her lips to meet his. (Y/N) rested his forehead against Rhaenyra’s as cheers were sounded around them. When they pulled away and faced the crowd, he could see his father and uncle smiling. 

Their hands were wrapped by the priest, covering the open wounds, and they descended down the hill. Rhaenyra did not let go of his hand as they went, smiling at him as he helped her into the carriage waiting for them. “Thank you, valzȳrys.”

Both he and Rhaenyra were dressed in their small clothes separately. He’d been offered food and wine before he was brought over to Rhaenyra’s chambers, but he turned them down. He did not wish to spend his wedding night addled by wine. 

Viserys had insisted on a bedding ceremony, and Daemon had no qualms with the idea. But both (Y/N) and Rhaenyra protested. The meeting had ended unsuccessfully, but (Y/N) suspected Rhaenyra had private words with her father, as by the next meeting the topic had been dropped completely and it was agreed there would be no such ceremony. 

The doors to Rhaenyra’s chambers were opened by the guards, and (Y/N) stepped into the room. Rhaenyra was sitting by the vanity, brushing her hair in a velvet dress that hung loosely from her body. (Y/N) felt like a hedge knight in his plain cloth clothing. 

She smiled at him, placing the brush down on the vanity. She glided across the room, coming to stand in front of him. “Valzȳrys.” 

“Ābrazȳrys” 

Rhaenyra gently grasped the laces of his tunic, undoing them slowly. She kept eye contact with (Y/N) as she did so, letting his tongue wet her lower lip as the laces were fully loosened. (Y/N) grabbed the bottom of his tunic, bringing it up over his head, and placing it on a chair next to him. 

Rhaenyra took a deep breath as she watched (Y/N), she brought her hand up and gingerly traced the contours of his abdomen. (Y/N) took her hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

“Turn around.” (Y/N) said, and Rhaenyra complied. 

He stepped forward, brushing her hair to her front so that he could see the back of her dress. She shivered as his breath touched the back of her neck. He undid the laces of her dress with careful precision, causing her to laugh and joke. 

“Done this before?” 

Instead of responding, (Y/N) let the dress fall down her shoulders, leaving her bare. She stiffened as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, before relaxing as he moved his mouth up her neck. She turned around and (Y/N)’s mouth went dry at the sight of her bare in front of him. She grabbed his neck, leaning up and connecting their lips. She grasped the laces of his trousers, undoing them in haste and shoving them down his legs. (Y/N) stepped out of them, groaning into Rhaenyra’s lip as she grasped him. He could feel her smile against his lips, and he pulled away bringing his mouth to her chest, eliciting a gasp from the princess. 

“(Y/N),” She gasped, and he kissed up her chest to her collarbone and back up to her lips, swallowing her next words. 

He pulled her close to him, lifting her so that she could wrap her legs around his waist and carried her to the bed. He gently set her down, and she smiled up at him. He returned the smile, before reconnecting their lips. Rhaenyra gasped as (Y/N) pulled away to mouth at her neck, she tangled her fingers in his hair pulling him up from where there would inevitably be a mark on her skin the next morning. 

“Stop teasing.” 

“Hen rhinka, ñuha ābrazȳrys.”

---

Translations -

Lykirī - be calm

Sōvēs - fly

Valzȳrys - husband

Ābrazȳrys - wife

Hen rhinka, ñuha ābrazȳrys - of course, my wife

[gh0stsp1d3r]

could you pretty please write a fic on supermodel!reader x rafe? i think it'd be cool to see their dynamic

you can skip if you feel uncomfortable ! 💗

Biggest supporter

A/n: oo I love that so much !! Also so sorry if I haven’t written for Rafe too much recently LMFAOO I’ve been having hotd brainrot.

Warnings: none rlly.

MASTERLIST

Rafe was probably your biggest supporter around, and while he usually went to most of your shows, this time he was drowned in his work, and he didn’t know if he could risk to put it aside.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized to you this morning, “I’ll try my best to make it, okay?” He said with a small shrug.

“It’s okay.” You sighed.

“I know you’re gonna do great,” he kissed you one more time, you giving him a small smile and watching him leave. You had no time to fret over it, because you knew you’d have to leave soon.

You were waiting in line, nerves getting to you. But as soon as you heard the cue, like clockwork, you stood up straight, lifting your chin up high as you followed the person in front of you.

You were walking, when you suddenly noticed someone at the front. You tried not to let it show in your face, but you couldn’t contain the small smile that you tugged at your lips, your eyes glancing down at him for a moment, Rafe staring right back at you with adoration.

You turned to move, and you left the runway with a smile, while you did a quick change backstage.

After the show, you were getting back into your regular clothes when someone knocked on the door. You turned, standing up to open the door, already knowing who it would be.

You smiled widely, wrapping your arms around his neck. He held a bouquet of flowers in his hand, handing them to you. He leaned in to kiss you, hands traveling down your body.

“You were gorgeous.” He mumbled against your lips, you smiling, feeling your cheeks heating up at the compliment.

You both left, hand in hand. You turned to the man when he got in the drivers seat.

“You know, you could model.” You shrugged, he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Nah.” He spoke with a chuckle, shaking his head. “I think I’ll leave that to you.”

“I’m serious!! You’re like pretty. Like model pretty. Even more than that. But how come you came?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t miss out on it.“

“And your work?”

“That’s not for you to worry about, is it?”

You rolled your eyes, knowing how he probably still had a shit ton to do.

“Wanna get ice cream?” He suggested, shrugging. “Sure.” You giggled.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Omega!aemond trying to act tough in front of the public but as soon as the dominating scent of his future alpha hits him he’s just wandering around like a puppy trying to find the delicious scent, and when he does he just does anything to get alone with them so he can smell them more he’s just so addicted the pathetic boy

God I love omega!aemond so so so much!! Incredible thoughts anon.

As always, I've added a cut so that you guys who arent into this type of thing can scroll past easily. All of my a/b/o writing will be tagged with 'a/b/o hotd' so if you don't want to see it at all then block that tag.

So I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: despite the fact that Aemond is an omega, he really has no idea how to be an omega.

He trains his entire life to try and overcome his designation. He’s ashamed it, ashamed of being a male omega, ashamed of being the second son. He’s not well liked and he knows this, and he also knows that alphas aren’t exactly tripping over their own feet to get to him.

Any alphas that did show interest were so domineering and controlling that he immediately turned them all down. He resiles himself with just being alone and doing what’s expected of him.

Because of this, when you come to the red keep with family to discuss matters with the Targaryens and Aemond smells your scent in the corridors…. He has absolutely no idea what to do with himself.

He’s never liked an alpha’s scent, ever. Some were more manageable than others but he’s never actually liked it before. And now he’s smelling something that’s just utterly intoxicating and he has no idea who this person is and also has no idea what he’s supposed to be about this.

When he sits down at dinner and sees the guests, he immediately picks up the scent again and releases its you. He barely even says two words that whole dinner because he can’t keep his eyes off you and is trying to think of how he can approach you.

The biggest problem is that he really has no idea what to do now. He’s spent so much of his life trying to suppress his designation and so now that your scent has triggered him he just doesn’t know what to do. Most omegas know exactly how to dress and act when they’re interested in an alpha and needless to say, Aemond hadn’t given that one second of thought until he saw you.

He’s so quiet at dinner that Allicent even asks if something was wrong. He mealy choked while trying to tell her that everything

You notice him too of course, and not just because his reputation proceeds him but also because you got his his scent when he walked into dinner and you immediately loved it more than any other omega’s scent you’ve ever encountered.

He eventually manages to plot to get you in a room alone with him. The only issue is that once you’re in that room he realises he actually has no idea what to say to you. He never even thought that far.

You ask him what’s going on and he’s losing his mind because you smell so good and you’re standing right there and he doesn’t know what to don. After a bit of awkward silence you ask him why he wanted to talk with you. Again, he tries to answer but it’s like the human part of his brain has completely disappeared leaving only desperate horny omega.

For the first time he wishes he actually paid attention when the other omegas tried to rope him into watching romcoms and talking about his feelings. Maybe if he had listened to them than he’d know what to do here.

And of course you’re very respectful and you keep your distance and you wait for him to make the first move. He stands there looking at you, not knowing what to do now that he’s actually around you.

I think the best way to his heart might be to first just treat him kindly, but like any other person and not like an omega and especially not like an omega in line to the throne. You had seen him practicing his sword skills in the training yard the day before and so you ask him about it, about how long he’s been training and what his favourite styles are.

The conversation flows easily from there, and because Aemond is not at all used to how haywire his instincts are going right then, he keeps on drifting closer and closer to you? You try to subtly take steps back each time because Aemond has yet to show any romantic interests and you wouldn’t want to risk making him uncomfortable or getting your scent on him.

Aemond meanwhile hadn’t even noticed how he keeps on trying to get closer to you. If Aemond were more in tune with the omega side of him and didn’t spend his entire childhood blocking his ears every time someone spoke about courting and dynamics, then he’d probably realise he’s trying to get more of your scent and the back away because it’s considered improper. But the poor thing doesn’t even notice.

Eventually you’re literally backed up against the wall and you cannot move any further away and even then he only realises when his nose is just about against your neck. Of course he jumps back immediately and apologises, saying he doesn’t know what got into him and promising to never do that again.

If this were any other omega, you’d accept their apology and offer to continue a discussion in public with everyone there and then decide what the omega thinks of you. But this is not any omega. Based on what you’d heard before and what you’ve just seen, it’s clear to you that Aemond either wasn’t trained at all about courting or, what’s much more likely, that Aemond pushed his designation down and ignored all aspects of it.

As a result, when he’s faced with someone whose scent is addictive to him, he can’t control himself? He doesn’t even know what urges to expect nevermind what to do about them or what he should be doing instead. It’s like now the can of worms has been opened and there’s nothing he can do except make a fool of himself over and over again.

It’s because of this that you tell Aemond he doesn’t need to apologise. You say you enjoy talking to him and he can stand as close as he wants, can be as close to you as he wishes and that you’d be honoured with any level of attention from him.

You think this will make him relax and then you can continue talking in your won little bubble.

And well, you’re half right. He certainly does relax, but hearing you say he can be as close as he wants makes him immediately step closer and burry his nose in your neck.

For a moment you’re in complete shock, because this is against everything you’ve been taught. You’ll be fine, you’re an alpha. But Aemond? He’s going to walk out of the room smelling like another alpha and no one else will even look at him anymore.

Despite that, you can’t help but hug him back. You rub his back and be actually purrs?? You just keep hugging him, telling him it’s alright because you don’t want him to panic.

After that, he’s attached to your side at all times. Good luck speaking to any other omegas because you have a jealous dangerous omega with zero control over their instincts following you around at all times.

[sectumsempraaa]

Cheat Sheet

Pairing: Draco x fem/Slytherin reader

Summary: You and Draco have always been especially good friends to each other, and this time is no different. But when you step in to save him in potions class, you both start to realize that maybe, it is.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: None, mostly fluff, some cursing and kissing

Behold, my second fic! Let me know if y'all want a part 2 for this one or my first fic, And Now I Do. Thanks for being so sweet and supportive, y'all are the best :)

If you watch HOTD, you'll enjoy a quote I pulled from a recent monologue 🐉

“Sssshh, ssshh, it’s okay.” You say calmly to the first year Slytherin crying in your arms. “I get homesick, too. But soon you will make great friends here who will feel like family. I promise.” The young boy pulls back, eyes puffy and cheeks stained with tears, which bled onto your shirt, but you don’t mind. You’ve been an older sister all your life, anyways. 

Draco had been made a Prefect this year and advanced his position on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Tonight, their captain has them practicing until nearly midnight. A bit excessive to you, but the Championship tournament against Ravenclaw is coming up and they’re hungry for victory. 

Because he’s always been able to rely on you, and your generally brilliant standing in your year, he’s asked you to take over his Prefect responsibilities for the night. This really only means keeping an eye out for students after curfew and tending to any notable incidents. You like to poke fun at Draco sometimes, calling him “the Slytherin-sitter.” This job couldn’t be easier for you.

“Can you walk me back to my dorm?” he asks through gasping sobs. You feel for the kid, remembering back to when you first started at Hogwarts and were nearly shaking on the train ride over. As if that wasn’t enough, you got sorted into the world’s most hated house. But eventually, you found your group when you beat the infamous Harry Potter in a wand duel in second year in front of your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. You remember turning back to your house and seeing your four new favorite smirks: Draco, Pansy, Theo, and Blaise.

You wonder how Draco would have handled this boy’s breakdown. What is Draco like around kids? It’s hard for you to imagine Draco being sensitive to a first year’s emotional needs. Your only frame of reference is when you ended up in the hospital wing in third year when you and Pansy thought it would be fun to try a fire spell on the Whomping Willow. Needless to say, it backfired… badly. But you remember Draco’s bedside manner when he visited you in the infirmary. You remember him being impossibly gentle when helping you stand up, laughing to tears with you when you told him what happened, and sneaking you some of your favorite desserts from the Great Hall. Ultimately, you’ve always been there for each other.

After you drop the student off at his dorm, you scribble some notes on the incident to have on record and spend a few minutes reading on your favorite couch in the common room. Around 1AM the door opens and Draco steps through, absolutely covered in sweat, cheeks blotchy and hair soaking wet. You jump off the couch and meet him halfway through the room, grabbing his broomstick for him and leaning it up against a table. Despite still catching his breath, he manages to speak, placing a hand on your shoulder first. For balance or for affection, you couldn’t tell.

“Thank you so much for covering tonight. Anyone give you trouble?” He asks you with genuine concern.

“Let’s not worry about my completely uneventful night and instead get you out of this uniform.”

He smirks and you drop your head, immediately regretting your statement.

“Now now darling, I know you’re eager, but I’ve worked out well enough for tonight.” He replies to you with a cocky tone, winking at you just before you scoff and hit his shoulder. You turn to walk back to your dorm, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you back towards him. His demeanor shifts, eyes like ice looking down to meet yours.

“Really, thank you. I have a lot on my plate right now and you’re the only one in our band of idiots I can rely on.” He says, and you swear you can see a soft smile forming while he talks. His delicate grip on your arm and the sincereness in his voice are all you can focus on. You notice how the chill of his ring against your skin contrasts with the heat radiating off him. There it is again, that compassionate side peeking out from behind his hardened exterior; temporarily abandoning the Slytherin king for Prince Charming. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You’re fully aware you’re batting your eyelashes up at him, but you can’t help it. You feel special seeing this part of him he normally hides from others.

“Consider yourself the least idiotic of us.” He says, and you feel his thumb graze over your wrist. You think to yourself, we’ve never stood this close before. The two of you laugh and drink in this moment for another few seconds. When you both turn towards the dorms, you relay the incident with the crying boy and just like that, the classic Malfoy everyone knows shifts back, his exhaustion making it hard to keep up the act.

“Better you than me. Can’t stand it when they cry. Insolent pups.” He scowls. You roll your eyes and sigh as you lean on the threshold of your dorm room.

“Such a mother hen.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. You know he likes it when you challenge him. Not many people would. 

“You know, now that I think about it, I can recall you crying on multiple occasions in first year, not excluding the time you lost that fight against-” He cuts you off, swiftly closing the door to his room. But that doesn’t suppress the sound of the laugh he lets out on the other side.

You smile, shaking your head and mumbling to yourself.

“Insolent pup.”

—

The next day, you’re in Potions class and it is glaringly apparent from the moment you sit down that Snape is in a terrible mood. Typical. You’re used to this but it doesn’t make life any easier. An angry Snape is usually accompanied by some random and unnecessary punishment.

He remains silent for a minute while staring down the class, scanning the room with eyes like daggers. Draco stumbles in the door, noticeably disoriented. You practically feel the relief emanating from him when he sees the empty seat next to you. He drops into the seat like dead weight, rubbing his bloodshot eyes that are wrapped in gray circles.

“Hey, you okay?” You whisper to him, not daring to stand out amongst the quiet class. When he doesn’t respond, or even so much as look at you, you reach to place a hand on his back.

“Draco.” He lazily turns his head towards you, finally getting his attention.

“What can I do?” You ask. Your heart sinks a little looking at your friend who is physically drained beyond repair. Moving your hand in circles on his back, you reach over to take his robe off for him, laying it on top of yours on the bench in between you. He doesn’t utter a word but you know he barely slept last night, if at all. With quidditch practice going so late and his attempt to catch up on homework until the sun reappeared, he was doomed today.

You look past Draco towards Theo, sitting at the table diagonal to yours. You watch as he shakes his head slowly, as if to warn you. Just as your gaze trails back to Draco, Snape’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife.

“I would like to assume you all completed the assigned chapter twelve reading this week.” He grimaces. No one is brave enough to speak up, not even Hermione Granger.

“But that would be foolish. However, I will know whether you read the material or not when I ask each pair to come up here and create a Sleeping Draught potion.” He drags on.

“...successfully.”

The class releases a collective chorus of groans and gasps, some frantically looking around for help, others using every ounce of concentration to remember the ingredients from the chapter. Your studious nature and vivid memory serve you well as you start to mentally list the instructions. Recalling Snape’s demand in your head, you repeat the words out loud.

“Each pair.” You whisper. Without giving any thought to it, you instinctively grab Draco’s hand and dip your quill in ink, lowering it to his palm that you’ve rested on your thigh. You don’t have time to notice the layer of visible panic etched on his face.

“Sorry if this hurts, hun.” You say while looking down at his hand, keeping your touch light as a feather. You’re too concentrated to acknowledge the nickname you used, but he notes it with a subtle glance.

Biting your lip, you try to make the instructions as legible as possible on his skin. Meanwhile, Draco doesn’t ask a single question, just completely submitting to you taking control. His eyes scan over your face in awe, eyelids hanging heavy, as he mentally catches up to the present moment. Here you are, saving his ass once again.

“How come?” His whisper takes you by surprise considering his defeated state.

“How come what?”

“It’s always you. How come it’s always you?” His voice is rough from fatigue, but not enough to hide the sliver of his sweeter, softer side that seems to be creeping back out of its cage again.

“Malfoy and Y/L/N, such exemplary Slytherins.” Snape remarks. ”You will go first.”

Swallowing the tension in your throat, you nod reassuringly to Draco before lifting you both to your feet, cautiously walking up to the front of the class. When you reach the table, you take in the sight of dozens of ingredients before you. The six you need stand out to you immediately, but you aren’t so sure about your partner. Truthfully, your end goal was to make it through this excruciatingly public test without him collapsing. It will be a miracle if he even remembers the answers are literally written on him.

You choose a few ingredients and nudge an elbow to Draco’s side, urging him to participate. He remains still, only turning his head towards you. You see a weakness in his eyes that breaks your heart, that makes you want to hold him in your arms, but you snap yourself back to reality. You know you have to do something. Before he can give up, you open your mouth and let the words fall out with confidence. Your voice slices through the stillness of the room, creating a sea of surprised looks. But you keep your piercing eyes directly on his.

“Lucky for you, Severus, we know this one like the back of our hand.” Your smug tone earned a hushed grumble of laughter from the class. Draco’s eyes widen with pride and realization, darting back down to his hand, gracefully hiding the cheat-sheet you inscribed on it. Your heart swells as he correctly reaches for the lavender, wormwood, and valerian sprigs.

From there, you take turns adding and mixing the components. The two of you find a rhythm and work seemingly in sync with each other. Skillfully glancing down to your discreet notes, he returns your elbow nudge from earlier while smiling down at the finished product as if to say, “Look, we did it.”

You turn to your professor and are instantly met with a cold, stoic death stare. Your heart jumps.

“10 points for the potion, 5 taken for addressing me by my first name, which you will never… utter… again… Miss Y/L/N.” He sneers.

You both nod and make your way back to your desk, taking a deep breath and finally relaxing. As the next pair hesitantly rise from their seats, you turn to each other in your seats and nearly burst out laughing immediately upon making eye contact, the both of you covering your mouths like little kids. Trying to suppress his outburst, he grasps your hand, intertwining your fingers. You’re both squeezing with enough pressure that some of the ink on his palm imprints onto yours.

Finding some energy, Draco pulls your hand towards him and reaches for his quill. He starts to reciprocate your earlier gesture, gently writing on your palm, though the writing is a little less… neat. You read the words etched messily on your skin. So, how come?

A blush creeps onto your cheeks as the moment forces you to confront the feelings you’ve developed for him. He hasn’t completely let go of your hand yet, letting his fingertips linger on yours. Still committing to the dead silence of the room, you pull his hand back towards you once again, continuing your strange and intimate game of tug-of-war. Lifting his hand to your face, you place a gentle kiss on the back of his hand. Your confidence from the stunt you pulled starts to wither away, an abundance of nerves catching up as Draco’s hand suddenly releases from yours. Panic floods your body. 

Fuck.

But he doesn’t let it drop. No, instead, he reaches to cup your cheek, his other hand propping his head up on the desk. Your heart flutters as you relish the feel of his affectionate, gentle touch, his fingers just barely grazing your hair. There it is again. Prince Charming.

He lowers his hand and grins, pointing to the spot where the ink from his hand rubbed off on your cheek. He takes out his wand and whispers a spell to clear it, removing the evidence. He takes your hand in his again and rests them on his lap. He closes his eyes and drifts off, never letting his grip falter.

And that’s how you spent the rest of the potions class.

—

Heading back from dinner in the Great Hall that night, you spot Draco sitting on the stairs that lead down to the dungeons. You break away from the crowd, telling them you’ll catch up in a minute. You take a seat on the stair below his, facing him while resting your hands on his knee.

“I keep replaying the image of you calling him Severus in my head. There isn’t even a Gryffindor out there that could match your bravery.” He says, looking down at you with pure adoration.

“Well, I had to act quickly considering my partner was barely conscious. You were about to go down and I wasn’t going with you.”

He laughs shyly and rests a hand on top of yours.

“I got you something,” you say as you reach down to your robe pocket. In your fingers is a tiny vial of potion with a small bit of parchment tied to it with purple string, displaying his name. “It’s a bit of the very successful Sleeping Draught we made. I snuck some while you were mixing. You were a bit too… out of it to notice.”

You drop it into the palm of his hand, watching the grin on his face grow wider at the sight of the gift.

“We have a three day weekend starting tomorrow and you are going to take that and sleep through the whole thing.” You demand.

He remains quiet for a moment before moving himself down to the stair you’re sitting on, turning his body to face yours.

“To say I owe you is an understatement. I can’t possibly ever repay you.” He stores the vial in his pocket and looks back up to you.

“I don’t expect anything from you, Draco. I’m not doing you a favor. I’m just looking out for you.”

“But that’s just it, love. I rarely ever ask for your help, and yet you’re here… all the time.” His words slow their pace as he inches closer to your face, gazing down between your eyes and your lips.

You shrug with a small smile, giving him a look you know will melt his heart.

“Guess that’s what makes me such an ‘exemplary Slytherin.’” You smirk, referencing the title Snape had called you from class. And that does it for him.

He takes your head in his hands, cradling your face for a moment. He scans you over, like he’s taking a mental picture, examining your every feature. Within seconds, he’s pulling your face to him, claiming your lips with his. This isn’t a tender kiss, this kiss is everything. This kiss holds years worth of longing and laughter and gratitude. His lips move against yours slowly with no intention of breaking anytime soon. You feel your heart explode, a million little butterflies bursting from it. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He feels you smile against him, which he sends right back to you.

You feel his mouth open slightly between kisses and take the opportunity to slide your tongue in his mouth, earning a soft, satisfying groan from him. The vibration from his voice sends chills down your body, and you savor every second of it. Your tongues and lips dance with each other with hunger, claiming each other’s territory as your own. The soft texture of his lips, the rough movement of his mouth… It's almost too much. You want to get closer to him. You have to be closer to him.

You break the kiss for a second, lifting yourself up to land on his lap. As you settle down on his thighs, you run your fingers through his hair and catch glimmers of light and lust in his eyes as he continues to fall for you. Straddling him, you feel his hands immediately grabbing your ass, pushing your chest against his and crashing your lips together once again. Your arms wrap around his neck as he swallows the moan you let escape your throat. The bond between you feels electric, every thought in your head replaced by tiny, vivid sparks.

In the midst of your embrace, he detaches your lips momentarily, catching you by surprise. He maintains the intimacy, leaning his forehead on yours and nudging your nose with his.

“How am I supposed to sleep now?” He jokes and you can feel his hands move up to your waist, tightening their grip as if you’d ever try to leave.

“And I’m the eager one?” You scoff at him playfully. With your eyes so close to his, you can sense the depletion in them. That heavy-hearted feeling you experienced earlier, just when you thought he was about to give up, rises in your chest again.

“Let’s get you to bed before we get stupid and you fall apart.” You comfort him, kissing one cheek and then the other. You feel him sigh, knowing you’re right. He doesn’t have it in him to argue otherwise right now.

“Sorry, love.” He says modestly under his breath, the words laced with shame. “Promise me we can get stupid when I feel like a living person again.”

“You said it yourself, Draco. I’m here all the time. I’ll be there when you fall asleep and I’ll be ready,” you break mid-sentence to kiss him once more with vigor. You send the rest of the thought into his mouth, your voice drenched with desire.

“...when you wake up.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[serymn31]

I’ve spent yesterday on the davos/aeron tag on ao3 and the impact of these two for their 2-minute screen time 😭 Now we got art and amazing edits, and 80+ works on ao3 as of this writing! We who are hate-watching HotD are hungry for some good writing and characterization and they can only serve for these two doomed but star-crossed almost-lovers. Too bad they’re no longer with us in the next episodes.

The reason why I love it so much is they just have so much simmering beneath the surface and we can almost feel they have this shared, complicated past.

Davos saying, “Your uncle declared for Aegon, didn’t he?” with such pain? I could imagine they might have had a past conversation that there was a chance for reconciliation between the families, if they are on the same side.

For fic recs I love the works by herofumi so far who has three fics and one is a WIP where the two have survived. HotD has been dull and disappointing that I would rather watch a #davron spinoff. Good thing we have fanfic!

[yandereunsolved]

I’ve been grinding on roblox dragon adventures (because I’m still on winter break…I miss my anatomy professor he’s so funny) and therefore have had loads of time to think about my favorite Yandere blorbos, so I thought I’d share one of my ideas with you, which is the self aware cast saying more and more outrageous, obviously not the actual dialogue stuff simply because darling isn’t paying attention- because when I grind for games I usually have a YouTube video or series I’ve watched before playing in the background (cause otherwise it’s too silent) but I’m not actually paying attention to them, so I’ve been thinking about the cast just full on arguing in the background about who darling likes more while darling is basically ignoring them for a silly dragon game

-☀️(I can’t tell if this is long or if it’s just because I’m typing this on my phone…I’ve rewatched hotd so much lately, Also I just noticed cause I was passively watching it while doing my genetics project awhile back but like. The hair just doesn’t work?? Like if you look none of the women have children with their hair color unless the father has the same, and I’m so confused on why?? At first I was like “oh, Targaryen hair is probably just recessive” but then like. All of alicent’s babies have it, so?? Does the hotd universe just have sexism in the genetic code??)

The HOTD universe has genetic sexism.

That's a new one.

That is also what I do. Unless I am listening to a cutscene in a game I usually have music or videos on in the background. So like—I see you. That'd be funny asf.

Imagine even further if whatever game you were enthralled in also had self-aware characters. Even if they weren't self-aware the hotd cast would still be jealous. They'd begin to bicker about what to do with you. How are they going to get your attention back on them? This naturally devolves into them having full on screaming matches & fights about who deserves darling more.

(They get quite—passionate.)

It's like a medieval reality show.

Aemond and Aegon punching the shit out of each other.

Alicent: "Those aren't my children."

Rhaenyra (in a booth): "and that was the moment I realized my queer situationship would not be able to take care of our my darling. If she can't even handle her own offspring—how is she going to handle a being from another plane of reality?" hair flip.

[spacerockfloater]

Hi spacerockfloater!

I've been scrolling through your posts, and I must say, you have done a phenomenal job debating Team Black and Alicent Antis! I think I must have liked almost every one of your Team Green posts. I love the way you are critical of both sides and your in-depth analysis of various scenes throughout the show.

My question is how do you feel about Alicole in season 2 after watching the first episode? I was disappointed that there was no buildup to their sex scene or their relationship as a whole. I was satisfied with their courtly love last season, but extremely disappointed after watching S2.

I've recently started posting pro alicent/pro alicole discussions myself, though before, I was just reblogging them. Team Black stans claim that they don't have any problem with Alicent shagging Cole, (loll). What they don't like is her mocking Rhaenyra for doing the same with Harwin, and I feel like some TG stans are agreeing with that take.

How do you feel about Alicent being called a hypocrite for doing the same thing she called out Rhaenyra for? And how do you refute Team Black when they bring this up?

(Basically, this is me trying get some debate lessons from you lmao)

Forgive me for making this post so long! I hope it isn't a hassle!! :)))

You are literally the sweetest, I beam every time I get a notification from you! Thank you so much for enjoying the content of my blog! It’s no hassle at all, I’d love to explain my views on Alicole. Please remember that this is solely my own interpretation and I hope that it helps you develop your own opinion on their relationship regardless of whether you agree or disagree with me! I hope my post helps you win in the debates to come dearest!

To begin with, I’ve posted a lot of rants about Alicole like this, this, this and this, with this being my best analysis on them. Generally, I’ve spoken a lot about them recently but I’ll try to summarise my thoughts in one post as best as I can.

Okay so, Alicole is my favourite ship in HOTD. Their chemistry when they have conversations together is unmatched. Not only that, but individually, they are both amazing characters in their own right and they share a lot of parallels. They are both victims of the Targaryen dynasty and they both did what their abusers expected them to do, only to end up hated and rejected regardless. What I liked about them together is how soft yet driven and unwavering they were. Despite being wronged, they patiently endured it because they had faith in themselves and trusted that justice would be served. They weren’t desperate. There was a calm yet strong power within them. I loved the way their connection blossomed during the first season. Watching Alicent pull Criston up while they were both at the lowest point of their lives (Alicent’s father leaving, meaning she was completely alone at court and Criston having broken his oath for nothing, while his secret was out and threatened his life) and him responding to her call and rising to stand besides her, was the pinnacle of romance for me. The understanding Alicent shows Criston and the fierce loyalty Criston has for Alicent makes them such a power couple.

In season one, I loved their glances towards one another, their conversations, their agreement on several subjects. I loved that Criston was the first person Alicent called to when she was wronged on Driftmark, because she knew he would do right by her. And I loved that Criston, despite his devotion to Alicent, still felt that he had enough authority to not obey a wish of hers that he thought unfair, but immediately launched forward when she and Nyra got into a fight, taking three other guards to hold him back. Like you, I, too, was a fan of their courtly love and the subtle romance that was building up between them. In the end, they both have sexual and religious trauma, and they deserve to overcome it and live for themselves.

That being said, I think their relationship was treated awfully in the second season. Alicole becoming canon was used as a weapon to enhance the negative feelings the majority of the audience harboured for them, not as a way to explore their personalities further. All the emotional aspect of their relationship has been scrapped off and what’s left behind is that twisted, carnal side of it. Not gonna lie, I used to love watching their scenes together but now I am filled with dread every time they’re on screen because “Oh God, what if it is another sex scene?”. At this point, we have more Alicole sex scenes than we have of Daemyra and they’re purposely doing that to make us dislike them.

The whole reason that I found Alicent and Criston’s relationship so intriguing is because it was a deeper, state-of-mind type of relationship that was based on their common beliefs and experiences, which was a stark contrast to Daemon and Rhaenyra’s catastrophic passion.

And it just doesn’t make sense for a woman whose every sexual experience in her life so far has been rape to run to another man’s arms so suddenly in our eyes. You’re telling me that this girl who was tortured with her own body by not one, but two men, is suddenly all in for casual and hateful sex? I mean, ok I guess, we all react differently to trauma and maybe I’m misinterpreting Alicent’s character and projecting my own ideas on her, but then again I don’t think so. I am much more inclined to believe that this was done on purpose to please the Blacks’ fans. I mean, don’t we remember when Tyrion calls himself a fool for not clocking that a woman who was just sexually assaulted would not jump into his bed immediately after? What happened to that? I get that a woman that hasn’t had intercourse in years, considering Viserys’s health issues and all that, being in need of intimacy but they made it happen too fast.

I would have liked seeing them slowly fall for one another, them touching hands secretly, soft hugs, Alicent’s head on Criston’s chest. I would have liked seeing them ponder on the uncertainty that’s looming over them because “What’s going to happen now? What does the future hold for us?”. But then again, I understand that Condal’s intention is for us to hate them, not to make us like them more, because God forbid someone who’s not up Rhaenyra’s ass is likeable. Overall, I think Ryan generally enjoys using the Greens’s desires to ridicule them. The Alicole sex scenes, Aemond visiting the brothel, the mention of Aegon’s and Helaena’s married life, it all serves as a means to diminish them and embarrass them. Even the way the Alicole sex scenes are filmed, the angle of the camera, the positions, their content, is all just used to make us laugh at them, not to find them sexy, unlike Daemyra’s scenes.

So to summarise my thoughts on them, I am a big fan of Alicole the way they were portrayed in S1, but I do not like the way things escalated between them in S2 in the slightest so far (and that’s probably what Condal wanted anyways). I needed to see more of their romance building up before it turned physical.

Now, when it comes to Team Black calling them hypocrites, at this point I just roll my eyes at them because there’s no reason to argue with a fool. Alicent would have been a hypocrite if she hated Rhaenyra for having sex out of wedlock, but that’s not why she was pissed at her. She criticised her because she was seen in a pleasure house losing her virginity to her own uncle, which is indecent behaviour to say the least and could damage her reputation and her claim to the throne, not to say that it was a big “Fuck you” to Alicent’s face who had toiled hard to get Nyra the opportunity to marry any man in the kingdom, despite Rhaenyra’s hatred for her. She was also angry at her for lying in order to convince her to defend her to Viserys, which ultimately resulted in her father getting fired, a decision she deeply regrets when she finds out that her friend used her. And finally, she is judgemental of her producing bastards, flaunting them around, claiming they are legitimate when they’re clearly not and pushing her own children further down the line of succession. Alicent might not agree with Rhaenyra having sex with other men, that is true, but her hatred and criticism is directed at the effect Rhaenyra’s actions have on her and her family! Alicent has good reason to disapprove of Rhaenyra’s careless behaviour because it directly harms her, she does not criticise Rhaenyra simply for her extramarital activities. People who fail to see that just want to blindly hate on Alicent. Also, Alicent has done her duty. She was loyal to her husband, she gave him children, practically worked as his nurse for years. What duty is she breaking by sleeping with Cole? What else should she be sacrificing? Her relationship with him affects only him and her. Finally, Criston’s ascension symbolises his rebirth into Alicent’s protector. He exists, now, only to serve her interests. He tells her in the last episode that he can never atone for his sins, meaning that he has accepted his mistakes and knows that there’s no point in trying to erase them now. The man that thought his honour is the most important thing in the world died the day Rhaenyra equated him to a whore. I do not understand people’s obsession with wanting Criston to maintain his oath of celibacy, a vow he gave to the family that used him for sex? Sounds like rape apology to me. Him having sex now does not diminish the trauma he went through or how important his oath and honour were to him back then, nor does it minimise the importance of his suicide attempt. It disgusts me to hear people say that. It just shows that Criston has finally more to live for and that he’s retaking his life in his hands again.

Alicent having consensual sex that affects no one in her 40’s, after she birthed 4 children and became a widow, is not the same as Rhaenyra going to a brothel, losing her virginity to her uncle and her guard in the same night, lying that she didn’t, having sex with her uncle on his wife’s and her baby daddy’s funeral and pretending her children have a claim to the throne. Using the “Where’s duty? Where’s sacrifice?” line against Alicent carries the same energy as the Phantom of the Opera mocking Raoul as he chokes him by telling him to “Order [his] fine horses now!” because he was jealous of Raoul when he called his horses to take Christine on a date, something the Phantom could not do. Both of these lines being used against those who said them originally only show the pettiness of the mockers, because Alicent is not dismissing any duties or sacrifices by having sex with Criston, same as Raoul was not flaunting his wealth when he called for his carriage. The Team Black stans who use this line, just like the Phantom, are simply demonstrating their own jealousy and insecurities by trying to make fun of Alicent in a way that doesn’t even make sense. She has made sacrifices aplenty, her duty is fulfilled and now her watch has ended.

[odetoalibrary]

End of Year DRAMA Wrap-Up for 2024

Yes, I’m late but here is my drama wrap-up for 2024! I look forward to these posts by other drama watchers every year so this is mine!

A couple of disclaimers! This is not a list of shows that were released in 2024 but the shows I watched in 2024. To make things easier. I will put the year next to the shows that were not released in 2024. Most of these shows are Chinese but there is a mixture of Chinese, Korean and English-language shows here.

My list will be in order of least favourite to most favourite. This is a very personal list and not a ranking of shows I thought were objectively good.

But first, let’s start with the shows I dropped. All of these were released in 2024.

DROPPED

Tale of the Rose cdrama

A beautifully short modern Chinese drama starring Liu Yifei that should have held my attention…but somehow didn’t. On paper it has a flawed and driven female lead and a cast of equally flawed and driven characters….but I just wasn’t interested. I thought this would be the first modern Chinese drama to hold my attention but it wasn’t.

In Blossom cdrama

Is Liu Xueyi cursed or something? I’ve been waiting for him to take the lead since he won my heart in Ancient Love Poetry and this gothic melodrama had everything going for him…until they replaced the female lead and all that wonderful romantic chemistry flapped like a cold fish on the floor. I was pretty ambivalent towards Ju Jingyi before this but I can’t watch another show with her in it. This actually pained me.

Snowfall cdrama

Ok this one physically hurt too. 20th century gothic vampire tale starring Gao Weiguang as a vampire. Vibes are immaculate, costumes are lush and beautiful and there is a haunting melancholy to the show. Unfortunately, storytelling is king to me and there is only so many times I can watch the circular plot of the lead being tortured in jail before I rage quit. Vibes can only get me through so much.

The Princess Royal cdrama

Meh, I was excited for this one too but one day I just stopped watching it…and never felt the need to go back. There wasn’t enough tension between the leads once we got past a certain point and (once again) storytelling matters more to me than vibes.

And now on to the list of shows I actually finished!

RANKING OF SHOWS I WATCHED IN 2024

Love Game in Eastern Fantasy cdrama

This show had such amazing potential. The tension at the start between the leads was delicious and the trust built up so slowly and perfectly until we got that smashing scene in the mirror world. Beautiful! And then the personal conflict of the characters wisped away and we got a series of big events happening which I felt no personal stake in. But the main reason this is at the bottom of the list is Esther Yu’s performance as the lead. I know she can act better than this but for some reason she was directed to act not just innocent like a child (not my favourite trope in the best of times) but innocent like an actual BABY. In some scenes her voice and behaviour were so childish it felt like a parody of the genre or a skit.

House of the Dragon Season Two

I think if you’ve been reading my posts this year, it was kind of obvious how I felt about this season of HOTD. I’m not a book purist but the writers are not even following the logic of their own character arcs in season one. What was supposed to be a story about a civil war within a family where nobody really wins, has turned into a show where one character is the chosen one and everyone else is wrong for going against her. What a waste of a story. What a waste of your actors! What a complete lack of understanding of the very story you are adapting!

A Journey to Love cdrama 2023

A solidly written intelligent story with an interesting cast of characters and brilliant directing. Why is it so far down on the list? Because other shows made me feel more. I felt mostly invested in the story of one of side characters, the Princess Yang Ying, and her portrayal by He Lan Dou. If the show and centred on her this would have been higher up the list but alas. I’m aware this is a firm favourite of many people for the year it was released!

Story of Kunning Palace cdrama 2020

I loved this hot mess of a show and it certainly kept me invested while I was watching it. Bai Lu is fast becoming my woman to watch with the kind of roles she chooses to star in. I felt that Zhang Linghe was slightly miscast in this role as his aggression felt slightly ridiculous and forced. He tends to do much better in more subtle pensive characters. But this was a great revenge drama and I had a blast watching it.

The Red Sleeve kdrama 2021

This show tackles something that I have never seen a show do before except for the 2011 Chinese drama, Scarlet Heart. Every time a character states how happy the crown prince (and then the king) is that the heroine is in his life, a question is asked; is she happy? Does her happiness even matter? Is not the crowning joy of any heroine to get the love of the male lead and live for him? There have been so many historical Korean dramas where the heroine has been absorbed into the male lead’s story and this feels very meta in the way the story doesn’t follow this. I even had to turn the Viki comments off because the heroine was criticised for not being happy with the love of the male lead, for being ungrateful for wanting something else. I wish more dramas took inspiration from this.

Fortune Writer cdrama

Sun Yun Qi took command of my heart much like she takes command of this show. This domineering character type is one we rarely see from a female lead and she was portrayed so well by Li Mu Chen. The worst thing this character could bear is being controlled by others and we see her fight remorselessly against this to the end. Magnificent! Unfortunately the male actor really didn’t have the acting chops to pull off the role of an angry tormented general and I couldn’t help snorting every time he scowled like a teenager throwing a tantrum. Still, this was a wonderfully intense little story and I will definitely check out more mini Chinese dramas this year.

The Double cdrama

The villains really made this show for me. As much as I loved the theatrical Duke Su and the vengeful Xue Fang Fei, Princess Wanning and Shen Yurong had me logging into tumblr every day to rave about their insane dynamics. Watching Shen Yurong, a righteous official, on his inevitable descent into the kind of man he always hated was PEAK television. Every time he and Xue Fang Fei went up against each other, I was screaming into my fist.

Lost You Forever Season Two cdrama

What happened here? The first ten episodes had the same magnetism of the first season but then something started to unravel. I don’t know if pivotal scenes were cut due to time constraints or censorship but the latter is definitely to blame for the it-was-all-a-dream sequence they shoehorned in at the end. The story still powerful enough to get us through but something magical was lost. The only character with a satisfying arc from beginning to end was Xiang Liu and his scenes were iconic until his tragic last battle.

Blossom cdrama

Beautifully shot, wonderful chemistry between the leads and non-typical side characters…until we devolved into yet another emperor-is-righteous-and-the-leads-must-help-save-the-country ending. Is the Chinese government in fear of opposition more than usual lately? This isn’t even censorship, it’s making every story a targeted propaganda tool. The only story that has made me care about saving the country and the emperor is Story of Ming Lan. Ironically this show shares a lot of similar beats but is still lovely in it’s characterisation. My heart was in a clench during many of the intimate scenes between friends, lovers, parents…parental figures. My favourite relationship was definitely between Song Mu and his uncle, General Mei Sun.

My Dearest kdrama 2023

A beautifully shot, beautifully written Gone with the Wind inspired drama set during the Qing invasion of Joseon. The first half had me by the throat as we followed Gil Chae and Jang Hyun deal with their inability to give up as everything falls around them. Once the story branches away from the major plot points of Scarlett and Rhett’s story, it fell apart a bit for me and the show falls into the familiar trap of putting the heroine’s story in the backburner to support the male protagonist. Still, a gorgeous historical drama that deals with difficult themes with sensitivity and intelligence.

Here are my top three. In other words, we are now in feral territory. I have already watched these multiple times.

Til the End of the Moon cdrama 2023

Instead of taking the one ring to Mordor, Frodo goes back in time and makes the Dark Lord his little meow meow. This story was epic, insane, glorious and unhinged. Other fantasy dramas wish they were even half as good. The fight scenes used such strong thematic imagery and choreography that it was pure theatre. The fight between Ming Ye and the Devil God with its use of celestial figures, constellations, and hellfire imagery has ruined me for other boss fights. And we haven’t even touched Tantai Jin with his necromancer-esque magic and his use of crows and puppets. Above all though is the love story and the suffering between Li SuSu and Tantai Jin and how everything is against them. I loved this. I loved the acting, and the epic soundtrack, the fight scenes, all the incredible side characters and the brilliant costumes. It fell apart at the end but this has secured itself as one of my favourite fantasy dramas of all time.

Lost You Forever cdrama 2023

Do you know what is better than watching the male lead suffer over the course of an amazing story? Watching the female lead suffer. Lost You Forever never forgets that the protagonist is Xiao Yao, the beating heart of every episode. This was my obsession of 2024. I watched the show, read the novel, watched the show again, wrote some fanfiction and it still wasn’t enough. The storytelling in this fantasy drama was so tight that it felt like a joy from start to finish. I loved the heroine, Xiao Yao, and her drive to find someone who won’t leave her even as she fears making herself vulnerable. Every character had a believable and devastating motivation that touched me and despite being a reverse harem (yes really) it was so much more than that.

Interview with the Vampire Season Two

I had taken 7000 souls by then. But Lestat was the only one that felt like murder.

Poetry in motion. Gothic romance. Vampirism meets colonialism. A literary love letter to Anne Rice while creating something so much more. From the first ten minutes, I was breathless watching this. The dialogue was sharp, romantic and devastating. I had close to a panic attack while watching the penultimate episode, I Could Not Prevent It. This is everything you hoped a show about vampires would be while also giving you what you didn’t even know you needed.

I’ve written nearly 2000 words but I can’t stop now. Here are some special awards!

Favourite Female Character

Xiao Yao from Lost You Forever

I was pretty neutral on Yang Zi as an actress before watching her as Xiao Yao but she has skyrocketed to an actress I need to watch out for. She made me cry multiple times with her performance as Xiao Yao, a lost princess living as a wandering doctor in a backwater town. Warm-hearted, charismatic and being fully believable as a poor doctor who has seen and cleaned up a multiple of human messes, Xiao Yao is compelled by her deep desire for companionship while being certain that anyone she loves will never stick around for long. A wonderful performance of a flawed and loveable heroine.

Runners up

Claudia from Interview with the Vampire

Despite replacing a beloved actress in season one, Delainey Hayles did the impossible and made me (and the rest of the fandom) adore her interpretation of the vampire Claudia, just as dearly. An old soul in a young girl and a tragedy fighting against her inevitable demise, Delainey’s Claudia was a firebrand. I loved her and I hope to see her memory torture Lestat in season three.

Li Su Su from Til the End of the Moon

A young idealist who is put under an absolutely insane amount of pressure right from the start of the show. Her naturally bubbly personality doesn’t prevent her from being ruthless to others and even more ruthless to herself. She suffers from bad-writing-syndrome a few (more than a few) times but Bai Lu’s depiction of a woman who is in way over her head is striking.

Favourite Male Character

Tantai Jin from Til the End of the Moon

There was no competition really. Tantai Jin is the most fascinating character I saw onscreen this year. The way Luo Yunxi portrayed a man who could be ruthless, cruel, tender, kind-hearted, honourable, courageous and incredibly vulnerable was incredible to me. He went above and beyond to portray a man who could equally turn out a villain or a hero and even went on to act as Ming Ye and the Devil God (two completely different characters) too. The show really made use of his ballet dancer training in the fight scenes and every one of them is thrill to watch. I think this really illustrates why sometimes you need an older actor with experience to take on these roles and you can really see the range that Luo Yunxi has built over the years. This was a magnetic performance from beginning to end.

Runners up

The Vampire Armand from Interview with the Vampire

Hauntingly tragic and horrifyingly manipulative, Armand proved to be just as magnetic an antagonist and lover as Lestat but in a way that creeps up on you until betrayal at the bitter end. I knew what was coming but he still captivated me. I can’t imagine any other actor but Assad Zaman as The Vampire Armand after watching this. He is the breakout star for me of 2024. Fans of the show were literally taking trips to the Louvre in Paris to see “Armand’s painting.”

Xiang Liu from Lost You Forever

A nine-headed snake and a demon general who signed his soul to a cause long before the show started and never betrays it. I wasn’t aware of Tan Jianci before this but he completely enchanted me with his portrayal of a monster with a steadfast human heart. The soundtrack with his song has been on repeat for me all year.

Favourite Love Story

Xiao Yao and Xiang Liu from Lost You Forever

A gothic doomed romance between two very flawed individuals on opposite side of a conflict. Dark, romantic and full of mutual longing, this was the romance of the year for me. Their fate was already sealed before the show even started thanks to Xiang Liu’s adopted father and Xiao Yao’s brother needing to take over the world but they also can’t let go of each other either so we get this beautiful tormented story.

Favourite Villain

Shen Yurong from The Double

Surprise! Of course it’s Shen Yurong. This man had me logging on here to froth at the mouth over his descent into depravity and wickedness. I never knew what he would do next but every one of his actions made sense for his character. Lang Yongqi performed this role with a subtle brilliance.

Best scene of 2024

The domestic showdown of Interview with the Vampire season two

There were so many amazing scenes I watched in 2024 but if I had to appoint the one that defined last year, it would be the fight between Louis and Armand in Interview with the Vampire season two; Don’t be Afraid, Just Start the Tape. This fight went viral and for good reason. So many of the lines were both comical and horrifying and the implications of the fight itself, forcibly buried and erased until then, were enough twist everything we thought we knew. Assad Zaman and Jacob Anderson may not get the recognition they deserve from the industry but new fans and old were quoting this fight for weeks all over social media for a reason.

[dipperscavern]

Dipper, I need the wonderful opinions of you and your fellow anons because I feel like I’m going crazy, but I know I can’t be the only one who feels like this. I just finished season 2 of HOTD yesterday because I stopped watching it because I got bored. At that point, I was only watching it to see Jace (and hoping to see Cregan again), but I gave up because it just didn’t seem worth my time to watch anymore.

(⬇️Contains a few spoilers for Season 2 ⬇️)

Fast-forward to today, I got jumped on the interwebs because I said I didn’t like season 2 of HOTD and that I feel like there’s definitely a possibility (maybe not a huge one but still a possibility) that HOTD is going to have a downfall similar to GOT. (This conversation started because of the news that GRRM is planning to release his thoughts on HOTD and we all know he probably has a LOT of critiques to share. I got tagged by a mutual of mine in a post talking about this and they asked me for my opinion in the comments on the second season of HOTD because they hadn’t finished. I stated my opinion, people saw it, and then I got dogpiled.)

I get wanting to be defensive of the show because we love the characters and the actors are phenomenal, but my problem is that the writing was just not it for season 2. It was slow, they had the same conversations 100 different times, most of what happened in this season could have been compiled into like 3 or 4 episodes. Season 1 was action-packed and kept people thoroughly entertained. The writers completely lost their rhythm with the pacing in this season, which is a big no-no in any fictional series (novel, show, film, etc.), especially speculative fiction. You have to keep a similar pace or you’ll lose your audience’s attention or disappoint them entirely (especially if you slow down) because they’re expecting the same pacing.

Also, it felt like fan fiction, tbh. There were so many things that felt out of place and, therefore, felt forced because, just like the GOT writers, the HOTD writers are not developing certain aspects they’re trying to showcase on screen enough for these things to make sense within the context of what they’ve already shown us. For example, Daemon and his mommy’s back-shots of doom vision (did not make sense whatsoever because there was no prior information that would suggest this even needing to happen), Rhaenrya and Mysaria’s kiss (should have been better developed but ended up feeling forced/rushed to most people), Daenerys going mad (could have been done well but was rushed and poorly executed), etc.

I also think the writers are trying to pander to the viewers too much instead of trying to write an actually good show, you know? They’re also trying to hint at things present in the books without fully fleshing them out in any way within the show’s storyline, while simultaneously steering entirely away from the canon events in the books. This did nothing but make it hard to follow for not only the folks that only watch the show but also the folks that read the books because now people are speaking about things that are canon in the books and wondering if they apply to GOT and HOTD. It’s all a mess. (For example: the antlered figure in one of Daemon’s visions. Most people who only watched the show think it’s foreshadowing of the Baratheons taking the throne, but people who read the books believe that it could be one of the Green Men, which is a member of a mysterious order that maintains the Isle of Faces at the center of God's Eye by Harrenhal. This is, of course, something only people who have extensive knowledge of the ASOIAF world and history/read the books, would know.)

Idk, maybe I have a different outlook on this because I am a writer and I don’t just do it for fun. I’ve published quite a few pieces of my own, almost all of which have been speculative fiction (sci-fi and fantasy) and I’m currently writing a fantasy series, so I know what it takes to make a storyline work properly. I tried to explain this to the people who were dogpiling me, but they just discredited my experience because I’m only 18. So, in their words, ‘I don’t really know what I’m talking about’ even though I’ve been writing stories, mainly speculative fiction, since I was in fucking grade school (can you tell I’m a lil pissed about this part?). Anywho, this show just feels like it’s gonna spiral into something that is reminiscent of the catastrophe that was seasons 7 and 8 of GOT if the writers don’t get it together. (I really hope it doesn’t.)

I’m so sorry that this is so long but I really had to get this rant out of my head and I felt like this was a safe place to do that.

please. lets fucking talk about it.

@rise-my-angel made a post about this that really hit the nail on the head about hotd’s main problem -> post here

hotd uses its visuals as a crutch for bad writing. that is its (main) problem. early seasons got was so great in the way it didn’t have half the budget hotd had, but it felt so much more high quality. some of got’s best moments were it’s dialogue, where it was just two people in a room talking (for example petyr & varys in the throne room)

hotd doesn’t have half of the storyline it thinks it does, which, there’s multiple different reasons for this. not letting morally grey characters be morally grey, always having to have a justification for their actions when most of their actions were simply unjustified, delving from being a book adaptation of the downfall of house targaryen to changing everything to become its own stand-alone tv show etc etc. but, as i & mimi said, it’s main problem is it’s visuals.

the dragons, the actors, and got season 7/8 are the only thing keeping the show alive.

in got drogon viserion & rhaegal were three dragons with the exact same design and just different (not even book accurate) colors. the shows main focus was drogon while putting rhaegal and viserion on the back burners, and not really highlighting much about the dragons in general. while in hotd, we get so many different dragon designs, sounds/roars/noises, and personalities. everyone was so interested in the dragons in got, but they just didn’t handle it right, and in hotd, it’s dragons dragons dragons!! all you could ever want, step right up folks & look away from the mess that is this show.. OH LOOK DRAGON FIGHT 😍 hotd visuals are amazing, and we get everything we didn’t get about dragons in got, but that’s literally the problem.

& the actors are wonderful. emma d’arcy, phia sabian, fabian frankel, matt smith, harry collett, etc. they’re all outstanding in their performances, and the butchery is frankly an insult to them and these characters that they’ve grown to love & understand. oh look, olivia cookes amazing performance🙂‍↕️ btw daemon has a piss kink LIKE WHAT

and, the end of got was an obvious disaster. people are still (rightfully) angry and hurt about it, and they want something like hotd. something to sit down and watch on sundays, and enjoy the asioaf universe again. like yeah, season two’s bad, but not as a bad as 7/8 got… so there’s that. got left so much unfinished that people are hoping to consume in hotd, and it’s just not working. but, it keeps people tuned in, because got is finished with an ending thats un-re-watchable. in conclusion, people miss their show, and watch hotd as an attempted bandaid to put on the gunshot wound.

hotd is poopy, and i think (as anon said) over time people will recognize it more & more. but for now, it’s our bandaid, and it’s unfortunately the only one we’ve got.

[j-k-writes]

The Bronze Targaryen - 11

Summary - War is brewing in Westeros, but Rhaenyra is determined to avoid it for as long as possible (to the frustration of her husband).

Warnings - General HOTD warnings, canon character death, minor violence between family members ((Y/N) and Daemon)

The end of season one! I'm putting this series on a bit of a hiatus while I figure out my plans for season two (thank you, Ryan Condal, for making my life miserable) but do not fret I have stories to hold y'all over in the mean time.

“What is our standing?” 

“We have thirty knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and three hundred men at arms.” Daemon spoke, “Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend but as an instrument of conquest, our army leaves much to be desired. We have sent word to my loyal men in the City Watch. I’ll have some support there but I cannot speak to the numbers.” 

“We already have declarations from Celtigar and Staunton, Massey, Darklyn, Bar Emmon.” 

“As well as Coldwater, Sheet, and Tollett.” (Y/N) turned to Rhaenyra, “Runestone stands behind you. I have no doubt Lady Arryn will as well, the Vale will not turn cloak against their own kin.” 

He watched as Rhaenyra gave him a grateful smile and placed a marker on the table. 

“Riverrun was always a close friend to your father, your grace. With Prince Daemon’s acquiescence, I’ve already sent raven to Lord Grover.” 

Both (Y/N) and Rhaenyra paused at Maester Gerardys’ words, they both looked up at the Prince. (Y/N) narrowed his eyes at his father, who did not look the least apologetic as Rhaenyra spoke, “Lord Grover is fickle and easily swayed. He will need to be convinced of the strength of our position and that we will support him should it come to war.” 

“I am going to treat with him myself.” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at his father’s boldness, watching as he and Rhaenyra glared at each other from across the room. His father had been falling into tendencies (Y/N) had hoped he’d grown out of these past days, and the new Consort was unsure how to feel about it. 

“What of Storm’s End and Winterfell?” 

“There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath. And with House Stark the North will follow.” 

“Lord Borros Baratheon will need to be reminded of his father’s promises.” Rhaenyra said, voice tight. More markers were placed around the table, the promise of war becoming stronger and stronger with each clang against the wooden table. “What news from Driftmark?” 

“Lord Corlys sails for Dragonstone.” Rhaenys said. 

“To declare for his Queen?” (Y/N) asked. 

“The Velayron fleet is in my husband’s yoke.” (Y/N) frowned, unable to stop the hot flash of anger in his chest at her words. “He decides where they sail.” 

“We shall pray for both you and your husband's support. Just as we prayed nightly for the Sea Snake’s return to good health. There’s no port on the Narrow Sea that would dare to make an enemy of the Velaryon fleet.” Rhaenyra spoke before (Y/N) could open his mouth to speak his offense at Rhaenys’ answer. “And our enemies?” 

“We have no friends among the Lannisters. Tyland has served the hand too long to turn against him. And Otto Hightower needs the Lannister fleet.” 

“Without the Lannisters we are not like to find any allies west of the Golden Tooth.” Both (Y/N) and Rhaenyra frowned. 

“The Riverlands are essential, your Grace.” Daemon spoke. (Y/N) cringed inwardly at the knowledge that Daemon was making good points for all of his boldness and made eye contact with Rhaenyra from across the table.

“Pray forgive my bluntness, your Grace. But talk of men is moot. Your cause owns a power that not has not been seen in this world since the days of Old Valyria. Dragons.” 

“The Greens have dragons as well.” Rhaenyra responded. 

“They have three adults, by my count. We have Syrax, Vermithor-” (Y/N) winced at his father’s words, taking in a deep breath as his father continued on his rant. “-Caraxes, and Meleys. Your sons have Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes. Baela has Moondancer.” 

“Daemon none of our dragons have been to war.” 

(Y/N) grabbed his father’s arm, bringing him in close so that his words did not go any further than their small shared bubble. “And need I remind you, we do not have Vermithor until I am recovered.” He bit out, face hot as he spoke. 

Daemon ignored him, causing (Y/N) to throw his head back and sigh, “There are also unclaimed dragons. Seasmoke still resides on Driftmark. Silverwing dwells on the Dragonmont, still riderless. Then there are the three wild dragons, all of whom nest here.” 

“And who is to ride them?” Rhaenyra sounded as exasperated with Daemon as (Y/N) felt. 

“Dragonstone has 13 to their 4. I also have a score of eggs incubating in the Dragonmont. Now…we need a place to gather, a toehold large enough to house a sizable host. Here, at Harrenhal.” Daemon spoke, ignoring his Queen’s question. “We cut off the west, surround Kingslanding with the Dragons and we could have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns.” 

“Your Grace.” Ser Erryk spoke up, and (Y/N) relaxed, grateful for the interruption. “A ship has been sighted offshore. A lone galleon flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon.” 

(Y/N) straightened in his seat, grabbing his cane as his father shouted out commands to the men around them. He stood making his way toward his wife, she was frowning as Daemon exited the room flanked by guards and lords. 

“Follow him.” Rhaenyra said, “Make sure he doesn’t do anything rash.” 

“And you?” 

The smile she gave him did not reach her eyes, “Just go.”

(Y/N) kept one hand on his cane and the other on his sword as he watched Otto Hightower and his posse of Knights approach. Otto looked between (Y/N) and Daemon, chin up in the air and posture straight as the oak branch up his ass. 

“I come at the behest of the Dowager Queen Alicent, mother of King Aegon, Second of His Name, Lord and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms.” He spoke. “I’ve been directed to deliver her message only to Princess Rhaenyra. Where is the Princess?” 

Otto and his men were startled at the sound of Syrax’s screech overhead, causing (Y/N)’s lips to curve up in a smile. Syrax’s landing caused stones of the bridge to crack and fall off the side, and the she-dragon continued to growl and screech at the men as Rhaenyra dismounted and walked through the crowd. She took her place between (Y/N) and Daemon, turning to face Otto. 

“Princess Rhaenyra.” 

“I’m Queen Rhaenyra now. And you all are traitors to the realm.” Rhaenyra spat. 

Otto took her statement in stride, continuing on as if she’d never spoken. “King Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name in his wisdom and desire for peace-” (Y/N) scoffed, but yet again Otto continued on. “-is offering terms. Acknowledge Aegon as king and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne. In exchange, His Grace will confirm your possession of Dragonstone. It will pass to your trueborn son, Jacaerys, upon your death. Lucerys will be confirmed as the legitimate heir to Runestone-” 

“He is my legitimate heir.” (Y/N) stepped forward, but Rhaenyra shot her arm out, blocking his path. 

“-and all the lands and holdings of House Royce.” Otto looked smug as (Y/N) begrudgingly heeded his wife and stepped back. “Your sons Aegon and Viserys will also be given places of high honor at court: Aegon the Younger as the King’s squire, Viserys as his cupbearer. Finally, the King, in his good grace, will pardon any knight or lord who conspired against his ascent.” 

“I would rather feed my sons to the dragons than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken usurper cunt of a king.” (Y/N) said, hand flexing around his sword. 

“Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne. He wears the Conqueror’s crown, wields the Conqueror’s sword, has the Conqueror’s name. He was anointed by a septon of the faith in the eyes of thousands. Every symbol of legitimacy belongs to him. And then there is Stark, Tully, Baratheon. Houses that have already received and are at present, considering generous terms from their king.” Otto spoke, causing (Y/N) to laugh. 

“Generous? You have offered us things we already have.” 

“Stark, Tully, Baratheon all swore to me when King Viserys named me his heir.” Rhaenyra said, and (Y/N) could see the anger deep inside her bubbling to the surface. 

“Stale oaths will not put you on the Iron Throne, Princess. The succession changed the day your father sired a son. I only regret that you and he were the last to see the truth of it.” 

“You are no more Hand than Aegon is king.” Rhaenyra moved toward the man before (Y/N) could have time to respond. She rushed the man, seething, grabbing the silver hand pinned on his chest. She ripped the pendant off, tossing it over the side of the bridge. “Fucking traitor.” 

Once again Otto was undisturbed by the show of anger, “Grand Maester.” 

“What the fuck is this?” He heard his father ask as Otto grabbed a folded-up piece of parchment from the Grand Maester, handing it to Rhaenyra. (Y/N) could not see Rhaenyra’s reaction from where he was standing, but his stomach turned at the sight of her angry posture softening ever so slightly as she looked at the paper. 

“Queen Alicent has not forgotten the love you once had for each other. No blood need be spilled, so the realm can carry on in peace.” Otto said softly to Rhaenyra. “Queen Alicent eagerly awaits your answer.” 

“She can have her answer now, stuffed in her father’s mouth along with his withered cock. Let’s end this mummer’s farce.” Daemon and the knights around him drew their swords, and (Y/N) smiled as Otto’s knights tensed. (Y/N) took a step forward, not bothering to draw his sword. (The scabbard was really only by his side for show, for he was practically useless with it until he could manage to bring his arm above his head without aggravating the wound in his shoulder.) “Ser Erryk, bring me Lord Hightower so I may take the pleasure myself.” 

Syrax roared, causing the stones they were standing on to shake and the men behind Otto drew their weapons in retaliation. Before anyone could make a move Rhaenyra turned on them. 

“No.” She said, and the men around him stood down. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at her, but she did not look at him as she continued. “Kingslanding will have my answer on the morrow.” 

(Y/N) gaped as Otto Hightower and his crowd of traitors walked away completely whole. Daemon huffed and puffed in frustration the whole way up to the keep, but (Y/N) paid his grumblings no mind. His shock was aimed wholly on Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra would not look at him as they walked, or limped in (Y/N)’s case, and (Y/N) feared the worst. He bit his tongue as the council resumed, sorting through his scattered thoughts before he said something rash in front of the council. 

He’d only wished his father could have the same sort of self control. 

“It’s no easy thing for a man to be a dragonslayer. But dragons can kill dragons. And have.” Daemon spoke. “The simple truth is this: we have more dragons than Aegon, even with (Y/N) recovering.” 

“Viserys spoke often of the Valyrian histories. I know them well. When dragons flew to war-” Rhaenyra sighed, “Everything burned.” 

“War has its casualties whether dragons are involved or not.” He mumbled from his seat. His voice was merely a whisper but Rhaenyra heard him anyway and shot him a subtle glare. 

“I do not wish to rule over a kingdom of ash and bone.” She said it to the room, but it was clear the words were directed to her husband and uncle. 

“Are you considering the Hightowers’ terms, your Grace?” (Y/N) straightened to attention as Lord Bartimos asked the question at the forefront of his mind, on everyone's mind, apparently. 

“As Queen, what is my true duty to the realm, Lord Bartimos? Ensuring peace and unity? Or that I sit the Iron Throne, no matter the cost?” (Y/N) sighed at her words, frustration building as Daemon responded. 

“That’s your father talking.” 

“My father’s dead. And he chose me as his successor. To defend the realm, not cast it headlong into war.” 

“They have already declared war, Rhaenrya.” (Y/N) could not help the bite in his words. His frustration and exhaustion finally boiling over despite his attempts at holding it down until he and Rhaenyra were in private. 

“Clear the room.” The lords looked between the two warily but they left without complaints. As soon as the door shut behind the last lord Rhaenyra rounded on (Y/N), practically sneering. “Does the promise of war excite you?” 

“I just ended one war, Rhaenyra. My last wish is to start another, but you cannot bend the knee to the Hightowers.” (Y/N) sighed, collapsing into his chair. The action brought attention to the wound in his shoulder, and he swallowed a groan of pain. He was dreading this war, but he was not going to sit in denial. Unless they were to take the Hightower’s terms, and (Y/N) would die before he let that happen, war was inevitable. 

“If you could take the Iron Throne without putting Otto Hightower’s head on a spike, would you?” (Y/N) could not help but scoff at her question. 

“Are you not angry?” 

“I should declare war because I’m angry?” 

“No.” (Y/N) said between gritted teeth, “Because it’s your duty as Queen to crush rebellion.” 

“My oath reaches beyond our personal ambitions.” Did she not understand? How could she not understand what this slight meant for their family? 

“Personal ambitions? Rhaenyra this is your birthright and they have stolen it from you the same way they tried to steal it from Luke. To bend the knee now-” 

“Shut up and listen to me. You are acting like your father.” (Y/N)’s mouth shut with a click, his words dying on his tongue. Rhaenyra continued on, ignoring the rising anger in her husband. “My father told me something when he named me heir, The Conqueror’s Dream.” 

“A dream?” (Y/N) scoffed, but Rhaenyra ignored him. 

“A Song of Ice and Fire, a coming war against the darkness in the North. The realm must be united if it is to survive, so you must understand why I am so reluctant to plunge it into war.” She spoke with such certainty that (Y/N) almost wanted to concede to her. 

Almost. “You are in denial, Rhaenyra.” He said, forcing his voice level. He was not his father and he would not take his frustration out on his wife, even if she was part of its origin. “There is to be a war over this. I do not want it, but I have accepted it and so should you.”

(Y/N) felt himself drifting off in his chair as the lords argued around him, barely letting Rhaenyra get a word in. His body throbbed, a few new bruises added onto them courtesy of his father’s drunken anger. 

He’d sought the man out last night, too keyed up from his argument with Rhaenyra to go to their bedroom. He’d knocked on Daemon’s door hoping to drown in the wine his father no doubt had already brought up from the kitchens. Instead he’d found himself thrown into the wall after a particularly nasty screaming match that had multiple guards running into the room.  

One snide comment about Rhaenyra's choices was all it had taken for (Y/N)’s already simmering anger to rise to the surface. Rhaenyra could frustrate them both to the grave, but she was still their Queen, and Daemon needed to give her his respect, especially in the presence of the other lords.

His father had not seen it that way. 

“The Lord of the Tides, Lord Corlys Velaryon, and his wife, the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.” (Y/N) snapped to attention at the sound of Ser Eyrrk’s voice. 

“My lords.” Lord Corlys nodded to the lords around them as he limped down the steps and toward Rhaenyra. He looked well despite his injuries although the grimace he gave with every step betrayed just how healed he truly was. 

“Lord Corlys. It brings much relief to see you hale and healthy again. I extend my deepest condolences for the loss of your son, and heir.” Rhaenyra said. 

“I’m very sorry about your father, Princess. He was a good man.” Corlys looked around the room, gaze falling on (Y/N) for a moment before he spoke again. “Where is Daemon?” 

“There were other concerns which demanded my father’s attention.” (Y/N) responded, and Rhaenyra pursed her lips, having heard about these other concerns from a concerned guard the night before. She had not been happy at his father’s regressions in anger management, even less so with his decision to take his frustrations out on his already injured son. 

Corlys hummed, obviously too familiar with Daemon’s temper. “Your declared allies?” 

“Yes.” 

“Too few to win a war for the throne.” 

“Well, we would also hope to have the support of Houses Arryn, Baratheon, and Stark.” 

“Hope is the fool’s ally.” (Y/N) frowned at the Sea Snake’s words, the lord of the tides was correct in his statement but that did not mean (Y/N) had to appreciate the sentiment. 

“House Arryn shares blood with my house, but all of them swore oaths to me.” Rhaenyra was losing her patience. 

“As did House Hightower, if I remember.” 

“As did you, Lord Corlys.” 

The room went silent at Rhaenyra’s statement, but (Y/N) simply smiled. He hid his soft laugh behind his hand turning in his chair to get a better view of Lord Corlys as the Lord seemed to ponder her unspoken question. 

‘To who are you loyal to?’ 

“Your father’s realm was one of justice and honor. Our houses are bound by common blood and common cause. This Hightower treason cannot stand. You have the full support of our fleet and House, your Grace.” Lord Corlys bowed his head to Rhaenyra who sputtered. She recovered quickly, turning to look at Rhaenys who simply nodded with a smile. 

“You honor me, Lord Corlys, Princess Rhaenys.” She straightened, letting her demeanor shift back to that of Queen. “But, as I said to my bannermen, I made a promise to my father to hold the realm strong and united. If war’s first stroke is to fall, it will not be by my hand.” 

“You do not mean to act?” 

“Taking caution does not mean standing fast.” Rhaenyra shot him a subtle yet harsh look as she spoke. “I wish to know who my allies are before I send them to war.” 

“The consequence of Laenor’s sacrifice and my near-demise in the Stepstones is that we now control them. I took care to fully garrison the territory this time. A total blockade of the shipping lanes will be in place in days, if not already. The Triarchy have been routed. The Narrow Sea is ours. If we further seal the gullet we can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to Kingslanding.” The mood of the room immediately brightened at Corlys’ words. 

“I shall take Meleys and patrol the Gullet myself.” 

“When we drain the Narrow Sea, we can surround Kingslanding, lay siege to the Red Keep, and force the Greens’ surrender.” 

(Y/N) smiled at the sudden mood change amongst the lords of their council. Rhaenyra herself was not immune to the feeling and (Y/N) watched as her mouth curved up in a small smile as she watched the room. “If we are to have enough swords to surround Kingslanding, we must first secure the support of Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm’s End.” 

“I’ll prepare the ravens, your Grace.” Maester Gerardys moved to leave the room but Jace interrupted before he could. 

“We should bear those messages.” Everyone turned to look at the young prince. “Dragons can fly faster than ravens and they’re more convincing. Send us.” 

(Y/N) smiled at his son, “He’s right.” 

“Very well.” Rhaenyra caught his eye from across the table and smiled. “Prince Jacaerys will fly north. First to the Eyrie, to see my mother’s cousin and his father’s liege Lady, the Lady Jeyne Arryn, and then to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm’s End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore. And the cost of breaking them.”

The gods, old and new, gave him no warning that day. There was no warning, no omen, for him to heed as they said their goodbyes. As he looks back on that day he wonders what he would have done differently if there had been. 

“It's been said that as Targaryens, we are closer to gods than to men. And the Iron Throne puts us a touch closer, perhaps. But, if we are to serve the Seven Kingdoms we must answer to their gods.” Rhaenyra spoke. “If you take this errand, you go as messenger not as warriors. You must take no part in any fighting. Swear it to me now.” 

“Under the eyes of the old and new gods.” (Y/N) added as the book was presented to his sons, and Jace smiled at the obvious disdain in which (Y/N) regarded The Seven. (Y/N) looked over his boys as they swore, locking eyes with their mother as they did so. Jace was as confident as (Y/N) had expected a boy of his age to be. He was still green and eager to prove himself to the realm. 

“Thank you.” Rhaenyra turned to Jace. “Cregan Stark is closer to your age than to mine. I would hope, that as men, you can find some common interest.” 

“The North follows the Old Gods as House Royce does, Jace.” (Y/N) added, smiling. “Do with that what you will.” 

Jace smiled back at him, head held high. “Yes, your Grace.” 

Luke was less confident, which brought a small frown to (Y/N)’s face. He did not comment on it, remembering himself when he first began to fall under the pressure and critique of the court. Luke was younger than he was when Rhea died, and Daemon brought him to Kingslanding, and he no doubt felt more pressure than (Y/N) could have imagined at his age. 

“Storm’s End is a short flight from here. Lord Borros is an eternally proud man. He will be honored to host a prince of the realm and his dragon. I expect you will receive a very warm welcome.” 

“Yes, Mother- your Grace.” Luke stumbled, and (Y/N) gave him a reassuring smile. 

He touched his shoulder gently, bringing his voice to a whisper so that only Luke could hear him. “Do not worry, tresy. You are simply going to remind Lord Borros of his oath, if you cannot convince him he is already lost to us.” 

Luke nodded, and (Y/N) kissed his head. He grabbed Jace next, who only gave a small protest as his father laughed and kissed his cheek. All three Royce’s turned to look at their Queen who nodded. 

“Go to it then.” 

(Y/N) had not thought to be worried as he watched his eldest sons fly off. It was only a few days later, when they received a raven assuring them of Jace’s safe arrival in the Vale, that (Y/N) began to worry about his younger son, and even then, he brushed it off. He told himself that perhaps Luke had just forgotten to write, and he did not know Lord Borros, but he would not put it past the man to not bother sending a raven. Rhaenyra began to worry immediately, watching the sky at every opportunity as if Luke would suddenly appear on Arrax to assure his mother of his safety. She would not hear (Y/N)'s excuses, and months later, in his grief, (Y/N) realized he was simply doing what he had yelled at Rhaenyra for doing not days before. 

Living in denial. 

They were in a council meeting when Daemon received the news. (Y/N) was immediately on edge at the look on his father’s face as he took both he and Rhaenyra aside. Rhaenyra and (Y/N) watched as his father struggled to find the words, turning his body so that he did not have to look at them as he spoke. 

(Y/N) did not need Daemon to speak to know what the raven had said. 

He vaguely remembers Rhaenyra’s gasp as Daemon finally got the words out. She turned away from both men as she processed the words, doubling over and clutching her stomach, sobs began to rack her body. (Y/N) stumbled as the voices in the room faded from him and his vision tunneled, Daemon reached to steady him but (Y/N) pushed his father away. He threw his cane across the room with a shout as the tears began to fall. His hands met the council table with a loud slam and he swept the nearest items off the table. The clatter of the items meeting the stone floor was not loud enough to drown out his curses and pleading words. 

His father approached him when his body finally gave up on him, his legs unable to support his weight without his cane to steady him. He held him up, pulling him close to his chest. As (Y/N) sobbed, fists pounding against his father’s chest, Daemon leaned in close. 

“An eye for an eye, a son for a son.” Daemon cupped his cheeks, forcing (Y/N) to look at him through his tears. “Your son will be avenged.”

---

Translations -

Tresy - son

[dollwrites]

Hi Hi I’m so happy you finished it!! Now we can really get into some discussions lol this will probably be sooo long

So I’ll be honest I’m meh about cregan probably because he’s very team black lol. I’m also meh about the starks just from watching GOT like the only starks I liked were John and Sansa tbh, I definitely don’t dislike the starks and I LOVE winterfell and the northern people, I just don’t love most of the starks we see on screen if that makes sense 🤔 they’re definitely not my favorite house lol. And it’s so annoying that cregan is friends with Jace like in the books they’re really close and describe each other as “brothers” eugh 🙄

Aemond is too smart to be manipulated by someone like larys lol I love that he’s the only one that sees through his shit. So I never noticed this until I saw a TikTok about it but when larys was on the wall staring at aemond, aemond looked up at him and kinda walked with a limp to mock him 💀 I’ll make sure to send it to you it’s so funny aemond is so sassy

Girl I was dying those two years waiting for more 😭 I just rewatched it a lot and read a lot of fanfic and used a lot of character ai lol. It’s so hard waiting like I’ve never loved anything as much as hotd so it pains me to have to wait 🥲

Ok so now we can really get into alicent and why I switched up on her 😮‍💨 it kinda started with how she treated aegon in season two it kinda had me looking at her like 🤨 like when his son was murdered and she only cared about how helaena felt even though aegon was a wreck too. It really broke my heart to see her walk away from him when he was sobbing alone in his room. And then of course like I mentioned before how she broke his heart when she basically told him he was worthless. And then it got worse for me when she took Helaenas side against aemonds and said she didn’t have to help him with her dragon. Like??? Do alicent and helaena not understand that if helaena doesn’t help they’re literally going to lose the war and their entire family is going to die??? In that whole argument alicent was basically telling aemond that he had to fight the ENTIRE war by himself knowing that he was outnumbered and was probably going to die. Helaena is the only way they could win but alicent was like nah you can go die by yourself lol and what’s worse is aemond never signed up for this shit like he wasn’t the one plotting to usurp nyra. Then it got even worse with the ending of the last episode. I have never been more confused, angry, disgusted in my life I could not believe the shit they put on my tv lol. So you’re telling me alicent FORCED aegon to be king when he didn’t want it, and then literally changed her mind and went nah actually you can die I’m on nyras side now?? WHAT?? What was the whole fucking point of putting aegon on the throne then!??? What was the point of hating nyra for years and plotting against her for years??? Just for her to literally give up her own son. Like what the fuck she really hates aegon. Aegon would never do that same thing to her, he would be actually heartbroken to know his own mother did that to him. And she’s not just giving up him, she’s basically also agreeing to have aemond and her other son daeron killed just so she can have nyra be queen. Like you’ve never even been around this poor kid daeron and she’s like yeah whatever kill them all. And the fact that aemond had been fighting alone for his entire fucking family and this is how they repay him. It’s baffling honestly. Book alicent would never every single thing she did in her life was for her kids, she was ride or die for them and would literally do anything for them. They completely ruined her character I have no idea why they went this route with her. Book alicent would probably kill nyra with her own hands given the chance.

And can we also talk about helaena what the fuck?? So she helps daemon with that “vision” and literally smiles at him as she’s like you have to help nyra win. Like hello?? That’s the man that killed her child and she’s smiling at him and helping him?? And saying that their side has to win against her own family?? And then she literally smugly tells aemond he’s going to die, literally says you’ll be dead 😏 like what has aemond ever done to her to make her basically happy he’s going to die?? He’s only ever defended her 🙄 ugh like the writers need to be fired I’ve never been so mad at a show before lol.

The only things I liked about this season was aemond, aegon, and the dragons. The writers have changed so much this season from the books and it’s so frustrating I could go on and on about it. Honestly the highlight of the season to me was aegon and I know you don’t really like him lol but I was blown away by him this season. I honestly think he was the most interesting character by far, his character was so fleshed out this season, we got such a deep insight into him. I’m such a sucker for tragic characters like him, I never wanted to like him but I felt myself actually feeling heartbroken for him so many times and actually growing to like his character. A lot of the characters are so one note/ one dimensional but aegon is so dimensional, he has moments where you hate him and moments you love him. I also think his actor fucking killed it, he was acting circles around everyone else lol.

I would love to know your thoughts now that it’s over 👀 also how many TikTok’s are too many lol like I said before I have like 800 saved so idk how I’m gonna narrow it down lol

YES MY LOVE HOW ARE YOUUUU !! Sorry this has taken so long to reply to BUT

Okay so my opinion on cregan is positive just bc I think he’s sexy so SKSKSK THATS IT. I’m interested in his character and even though team black makes me 🤨🤨🤨 I can still respect his loyalty to the original oath I ALSO AM PARTIAL TO STARKS ( did I mention this in the last message? I can’t remember 💀 ) BECAUSE I ONLY WATCHED GOT AT FIRST BC OF NED…. I am a big Sean Bean fan I’ve always loved him character ai doing me so dirty by not offering a father figure eddard that also wants to yoinky sploinky me

Cregan… honey… you’re bad at choosing friends 💀💀 I HATE JACE SO MUCH but I will admit the actor that plays him is pretty so I guess I don’t mind him being on screen I just wish he wasn’t such a piss boy !!!

IVE SEEN THE AEMOND CLIP YOURE REFERENCING HAHAHA I was like did he just… I’m glad he’s smarter though! They did show him being really impulsive towards the end after Vermithor and silverwing were claimed and I wanted to know whether you thought that was accurate to the books? When he burned down the city. Because I did kinda like it! It showed how weak he felt in that moment and I personally thought it gave him more depth. I feel like he’s one of the best developed characters in the show, even though towards the end of the season he only had scraps of screentime. Either that or I’m just filling in the blanks bc I love him I CANT TELL

ALSO I HAVE BEEN WRITING SOME AEMOND STUFF…, I hope you get the chance to read it whenever it drops next month I think I have 3 almost finished fics ready to go. Ofc i do less deep more smut but SKSKKS still!! I’ve looked at the fic pool on here and some of these writers are INSANELY good so I’m pretty nervous to be dipping my toes into the fandom, BUT I NEED CONTENT ever since finishing it I’ve just been like 🧍🏼‍♀️now what

Speaking of needing content….. I redownloaded audible !! So I could get the book experiences too. Although the only version of fire and blood they have is the hbo tie in so I know it’s not exactly the same thing but !! Still I don’t really have the time available for me to read anymore so audible is like my only avenue, but I might try to also read the other ones he’s put out too. It depends on how this goes.

OH YKW AFTER YOUR ALICENT RANT… I totally get it. I agree with you completely once you break everything down. When jahaerys died aegon was a COMPLETE MESS 😭 ( let me admit rn that after rewatching it with my mom I have grown to love him I just needed to be open to him SKSKKS ) and he needed his mom, that part really bothered me, and it also bothers me that even after the way she treated him he still always looks to her when he needs her. I saw a tiktok ( forgot to save it ofc ) about the times hes said “I want my mother” or “mummy” and I was like OK TEARS THANKS FOR THE PAIN !!!

Aemond really is fighting this whole war by himself!! Alicent and Otto put all of this into motion and now is like ok now destroy each other and as much as I like helaena I lowkey don’t think she should be able to just be like ya I know I have one of the oldest strongest dragons and if I rode with my brother we could probably stand a chance but 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️ I won’t burn anyone like…. What do you mean !!! Aemond has always had a soft spot for helaena from what I saw in that scene where he was crying and basically begging her to go with him I WAS SO MAD AT HER FOR THAT SCENE

If I can be totally honest the whole daemon in the haunted keep arc I deadass didn’t pay attention so I don’t even understand it SKSKKS I was like well this is pointless so I just zoned out every time HAHA so when I saw helaena I was like ???

AEGON DID WELL IN THE SECOND SEASON like I said I do kinda love him now!! After seeing the scene where he was like trying to make the people of kings landing happy during their petitions or whatever I was like 🥺 I am really scared for him though now that he’s on the run with LARYS ???

I’m actually… dreading next season HAHAHA like I need to see it but I have read so many things that might be spoilers idk and each time I’m like :/ please… don’t do that… but if I’m honest it’s one of the best shows I’ve seen in the last ten years! By far my favorite right now, and I can’t wait to also give my opinion to you on the books as I read (listen to ??) them

YOU CAN SEND ME AS MANY AS YOU WANT sticking with 5 in a message would probably be easiest for me to be able to watch! Plus I’m in the us so TikToks probably getting banned like next month so I NEED TO SOAK UP THE CONTENT WHILE I CAN

[bonesandthebees]

I care about Rose! In fact, we started watching house of dragon (only 2 episode so far though) and it constantly makes me think of Rose because you use it as inspiration. Like obviously there’s the coronation scene which reminds me of stars. And there’s the character Willum is sorta kinda inspired by. And it’s an entirely different world, but every time I’m drawn back to Rose wondering how things will play out. (Which is not pressure to finish writing it if you don’t want to. Writer’s block can be a bitch and I get that the motivation for this project has been sucked out, but I just want you to know that I still care, and I’m not the only one.)

Also, I’ve been meaning to start my Ready, Set, Detonate analysis but I keeps getting away from me. I’m not sure there will be much to analyse, but there’s definitely fun details I want to point out. Oh and I am Looking 👀 at the fit/pac tag and kicking my feet. I don’t actually know if they are already in a relationship (I’m sure we’ll find out, but I just loved Fit’s little “Pac’s here?” That man is gone. Oh and I’m so excited for this Tubbo and to read more Bagi and the lore. Just all of it.

Then the original writing is a mood. I keep getting like a few chapters into my story before deciding it’s not good enough or thinking of something else I could do and throwing it all out. It’s this constant loop that never seems to get anywhere even though the story gets more and more fleshed out in my head every time. I think it’s because the opportunities are endless. Like there’s no characters and personalities and dynamics to stick to like there is in fan fiction. It’s free game but that does mean you have to decide everything yourself.

Anyway, best original writing advice I can give is remember the drafting process. There’s going to be a shit ton of drafts, which feels different for you because you’ve been mostly writing stories and posting them as you go, which means some minor or major editing, but leaves you without a chance to do a once over. It’s a sort of pressure to get everything right the first time. Meanwhile, original writing is something you keep close to your chest. There’s different drafting stages ranging from the zero draft (aka excessive daydreaming about all the possibilities) to the final draft (where you just go through and kill all your darlings and pour over ever single word to find the right one).

I’m struggling a lot with the first draft, which is literally just getting words onto a page. It’s a somewhat coherent mess that just allows you to shape the story and its structure so you can work off of that and edit it later on. I don’t know if this actually helps, but yeah, the first draft sucks and then it mostly gets easier. Just write, is kinda shitty advice, but it’s mainly, just get words onto a page, you will get a million chances to fix it, you don’t need to be happy about what you wrote right now.

-🌲

ohhhh I'm so excited you've started watching hotd!! good timing since the second season is going to come out later this year :D I hope you enjoy!! and I'm so happy to hear you're still excited about rose. I definitely want to finish writing it, like I said it's just me worrying about if anyone will bother to read it but a lot of you have said you would so that helps assuage my worries a bit

feel free to send whatever random thoughts you have about ready set detonate you know idc if it's analysis or not I just love seeing peoples reactions!! fit and pac are not in a relationship (yet) in the fic but theres a lot of flirty pining going on lol

god yeah it's so much harder with original fiction because it feels like there's so much pressure. you have too much freedom to do whatever you want so you're constantly second guessing if it's good enough or not. and ofc I know rough drafts are supposed to be shitty but I've tried to hone my skills so that my first draft is always incredibly solid because I rarely have the patience to do heavy edits, but that's with fanfiction. it has to be different with original fiction I know but it's hard to make my brain okay with that. I keep feeling like it needs to be nearly perfect on the first run :( but yeah I'm mostly trying to get words on a page. but then I think back and realize I forgot to mention this or I need to mention more of that etc etc and it's just stressful arghhh

[joycieillustrations]

For the " WRITERS" post:

🧑 Are there any OCs in the piece? Do you think readers will like them?

And

👀 Can you give us any sneak peaks?

I’ll answer these with Ad amorem! Please let me know if there was another WIP you had in mind 💕

🧑 Are there any OCs in the piece? Do you think readers will like them?

There’s not any OCs I can think of off of the top of my head - other than Robart, who I introduced in Ex libris as a friend for Corlys - but I will introduce a couple of characters from Fire and Blood that have not appeared in HotD nor been mentioned, so their depiction is almost like an OC. The primary one I’m thinking of I think people will really like: a female friend for Rhaenys, older and bolder and a great giver of advice when Rhaenys doesn’t have Alysanne to turn to. I can’t reveal her name because it’ll give away one of the plot points, but I’ve enjoyed what I’ve written of her thus far!

👀 Can you give us any sneak peaks?

Of course! This excerpt is from the WIP for the opening chapter of Ad amorem:

“My dearest Corlys,

It has not even been a day since we have parted and by the Gods, I miss you so.

Did you enjoy my display over the Blackwater as you departed? I do not think I have ever run so fast in my life, nor readied myself for flight so quickly - all to see one last glimpse of you, my love, to treasure during these weeks we must be parted. Two weeks is too short a time to have one’s love by one’s side, especially when one has endured so many years of solitude. How glad I am to have so precious a memory of you, husband-to-be. You shall ever be stood so in my mind, my bold adventurer, whenever I think of you: and I shall think of you, my lord, most fondly and most often, until you return to me.

I regret that I have not much else to report, what with your absence thus far only numbering a handful of hours. I must admit, I have already wept more this day than I have in many years. As we turned from you, love, my grandmother swore it would not always hurt so… yet I cannot believe it. Your absence is already a most tangible pain within my breast— and to think that but a few hours ago, I held you in my arms! To think that it has not yet been a day since we first embraced, since first we promised ourselves to one another. Oh, that I had had courage sooner! How many embraces might we have known then? How cruel it is to have such heady tastes of all that might be between a man and a woman, only to be obliged to wait so long a time before I might know more of such things.

As I write to you now, I am sat by the window in my chambers. I had never given much thought to it before, but I wish now my rooms afforded me a better view of the Blackwater — so that I might be better reminded of you, of course, by the sight of the sea that brought you to me. Mother caught me watching the waters from the ramparts. I can tell she is at a loss with what to do with a heartsick daughter. She says that this is the price of falling in love with an adventurer - with you, my beloved mariner - and that I will soon learn to endure it. I, however, am of the opinion that I am somewhat overdue some fits of girlishness, for I have taken great care to be sensible in my one-and-twenty years and thus am owed quite the sum of tears, sighing, and daydreaming. I plan to pine for you a little longer, my dearest husband-to-be, before I resume my role of dutiful princess.”

-

Thank you for the ask ❤️