#knight commander as a companion

[dmagedgoods]

Knight Commander Salvadore’s opinions about his companions

Tag game: Give your KC’s first impression and final opinion of each of their companions! Thank you so much for the tag, @spyridonya ❤ Careful, the final impressions include spoilers. Tagging: @iwoszareba @shiawasekai @amatres @thesolemnhour @outeremissary @offsidekineticist I have no idea who already got tagged and guess wildly. ~

First impressions of Salvadore

Seelah – What a tiring acquaintance. Her morality comes with all the depth of the headnote in a children’s book. At least, her sense of honor speaks in her favor. She is capable with her sword and knows how to follow orders. Camellia – Suspicious, put-on, trying too hard. She would not survive a day in the high society of Absalom but find herself torn apart. Either her status is a role, or Mendev’s aristocracy more pitiful than I feared. Wenduag – Do not stare at those legs. Deep breath, stay composed. Her approach is intelligent, strategical even, her values, on the other hand, entirely misguided. She chose a dark path to reach the desperate lifeboat she confuses with strength. Nonetheless, I see potential in her. Potential worth saving? If she means her words and follows the lead of the strongest, I may succeed at giving her a new perspective and a true chance to put her abilities to use. Lann – A man who finds so little worth in his own existence and yet attempts to run forward without a moment of thought makes for an unworthy leader of his kind. Disregard. Woljif – Is he still talking? His words are a senseless flood of irrelevance. Well, he has his amusing moments, I assume. I will have to watch him to contain his embarrassing habit of taking what is not his. For the time being, he should be of use and make for an efficient tool. I assume he won’t stay for long, he is not a soldier, and I won’t hold him captive by any means. Ember – Heavens, what was done to her? There is a deep wisdom in her words and views. And yet she utters them with all the disarming innocence of the child she is. I will protect her and make sure no harm will befall her again. Daeran – Being in charge always comes with heavy duties. He refuses them all. And while he leads the life of a mindless rake, his lack of political ambition makes it, well, acceptable. And yet, there is more to him. He fights with skillful, elegant efficiency, not afraid face to face with the demons invading his house. There is an air of freedom around him, his shining eyes are impressively observant, his mind as sharp as his provoking tongue. I admit, I am intrigued. He will be mine. If only for a night. He will be mine. Nenio – This epitome of ignorance calls herself a scientist? - A claim as ridiculous as her pathetic questions. Galfrey – The failures of the last crusades weigh heavy on her. Once radiant ruler, I can see the cracks, the tiredness of the woman underneath the mythos I heard all those praises about. She presents herself as surprisingly approachable. In her weakened position, that might prove a mistake. I wonder what her next steps will entail. Sosiel – I recognized a kindred spirit in him and I assume the feeling must be mutual. Last night, we sat and talked about art, about craftmanship, and wine, and beauty. It caused a bittersweet ache in me. I’m too far from Absalom, and something tells me Sosiel suffers a similar kind of yearning for a place he had to part from and yet stays with him, always. Once this war is over, I hope to visit his vineyards. Regill – A stern leader, attentive, sharp-minded, knowledgeable, experienced, efficient. Is he trying to challenge me? He will lose this battle, should he attempt to. Nonetheless, I’m impressed and interested in a solid partnership. My idea of the Hellknights might need adjustment. Arueshalae – A demon with a conscience, choosing her own path? I have to stay cautious, and yet … Her determination moves me. Can it be true? Can even a succubus re-invent herself to step past her pre-destined chains and limitation? If so, it proves everything I believe in. Show it to me, Arueshalae, don’t disappoint me now.

Greybor – His company is pleasant. An intelligent man with a rational mind. Furthermore, a useful weapon. I appreciate his codex and harbor no doubt that our arrangement will prove advantageous to both of us. Trevor – He endured down here, all this time. Impressive. I will reunite him with his brother as soon as I found a way out. Ulbrig – [I played Salvadore’s playthrough before the shifter was added and will come back to write his impressions about him once I finished his second playthrough.] ~

Final Impressions of Salvadore

[Heavy spoilers for the ending of the game]

Seelah – Her self-doubt and inconsequence are a danger for herself and those around her and her choice of ‘friends’ speaks of a concerning lack of insight. Nonetheless, I wish her well and hope her travels will help her move past those shortcomings. Camellia – Would there have been another way? I cannot say that I understand her motivation, her drive, but we travelled and fought together and a part of me wonders if a different approach could have led to a less violent outcome. She forced my hand into attack and paid the price for her crimes, but too much stays in the dark. Lann – Still as bland as the last time. Wenduag – She must have realized the mistake she was making before the battle even started. How, after all this time, could she misjudge that badly? In the end she threw it all away, the position of power offered to her in my army, her developments, her own potential. It pains me. Not her betrayal but my own failure. Where did I go wrong in my attempt of showing her a better way? Woljif – You hid him well, the man you are. – Well enough you needed some time to find him yourself. I’m looking forward to our upcoming projects and adventurous nights you and my husband drag me to. In all you are, in all you became and always were: I am honored to call you my friend. Ember – I recognized your strength from the moment we met. I would like to claim I guided you, but it was all inside of you from the start and my advice merely a final drop to reach your full potential. Listening to your last speech left me impressed and proud. My heart is heavy thinking of your silent departure. Continue on, little bird, go and change the world. Should you ever need it, I will be your haven to return to. Daeran – Light of my life, center of my world, to see you free from all those chains is the greatest achievement, the strongest of pleasures, worth any sacrifice and nothing fulfills me more. I adore everything you are, your light and your darkness, your strength and your weakness, your vulnerable tenderness and each of your sharp edges. You are my goal and my reason, my home and my journey. I love you. Nenio – I grew weirdly fond of her. Why I felt happiness about her return is beyond me. But I’m willing to admit that I’m excited for the final version of her encyclopedia. Galfrey – It should not have ended like this. Our swelling battle for influence, my rise to power to threaten yours, you knew it, you were well aware. You sent me to the Abyss and marched to Iz, it was your decision, not mine, your miscalculation, your defeat, your duty as their leader to hold out until I saved our people, until I preserved the knowledge needed for the goal we shared. The risk you took, the duty to hold out, it is the price of rulership. Then why can I not get rid of the voice whispering in my mind? Telling me that I hoped you would fail and die, your throne free for the taking, that your death would pave the way for me. Mendev in the palm of my hand. We both failed, Galfrey, we both failed that day. But I will carry on, I will wear this crown and leave our faults behind, to shape a nation of light. Sosiel – I feel this certain distance between us since my rejection. It seems to stand between us and I find myself unable to overcome it. Maybe it just needs more time. I look forward to visiting him and his brother and sincerely hope he’ll find the peace of mind he deserves and a life filled with kindness and beauty. Regill – My trusted advisor and second in command, my friend I turn to whenever I wish for advice, wiser than me, with your unconditional, selfless devotion to our goals: You are not dismissed. I need you at my side. Trevor – He is strong and even with the horrors lingering deep within, he will make a life worth living, I am certain. Arueshalae – She succeeded. It proves that we all decide our own path and who we want to be, independently from so-called ‘destiny’, no matter where we stand. I will visit her soon, and urge her to overcome her solitude just enough to make the connections she craves.

Greybor – He is on his way home, to the place he is needed at. I support his decision. Maybe we will meet again one day. Ulbrig – [I played Salvadore’s playthrough before the shifter was added and will come back to write his impressions about him once I finished his second playthrough.]

[zkretchy]

I am still not over the fact that I somehow managed to overlook the brightly glowing Aasimar just hanging around very visibly in his manor which the quest given was about

Truly amazing

[arendaes]

I know and love Ariadne so well but I always love to hear your thoughts:

8. What do they desire the most?

13. What is their biggest regret regarding their time as the KC?

26. Did they separate from any companions? Why? (Consider killing a companion too for this question)

Thank you!! These are for this ask game here

8. What do they desire the most?

You know, this is a very good question. Part of the reason Ariadne's in Mendev is to get away from Absalom for a while, because her ex Kjelle had threatened her and she figured if she was gone from the city her fathers would be safe. Everything involving Kjelle was a mistake in her mind, and beyond that, her father Marius was gravely injured because he was trying to help her get into the Pathfinder Society. So, if Ariadne could have anything in the world, I think the thing she'd like most is to be able to go back in time and stop those mistakes from happening, because the guilt eats at her.

It's a good thing she didn't decide to go Aeon, huh?

13 and 26 were answered here

[spyridonya]

The Knight Commander as a Companion - Part 1

Name: Kadira Storadottir

Race: Tiefling - Devilkin

Class: Wizard - Spell Master (can be classed into Rogue to Arcane Trickster). Her focuses will be based on buffs. 

Age: Mid 20s.

Appearance: Tall with wide shoulders and hips, Kadira tends to gain and shed weight easily, a trait notable among Kellids to survive the harsh climate of the Northern regions. A heart shaped face with a firm chin and jaw framed by black curls and large blue eyes, Kadira's angelic features contrast with medium red skin, a thick tail longer than she is tall, black furred goat legs. It is readily apparent that Kadira is a tiefling though she lacks the asymmetry of most Doomspawn or Demonkin have with their features. She dresses modestly in clean, neat, and well made clothes that are usually shades of blue and green pastels. Her outfits are often minimalistic but well made. The only piece of jewelry she wears is a bracelet of beaten silver, one of the last gifts she was given by her grandfather on her 13th birthday. Kadee is aware she's attractive, but is very sensitive about her legs. 

Top Skills: Knowledge: Religion, Arcane, Nature and Trickery

Alignment: Neutral Good

How/when do they join the Commander’s party?

Kadira will introduce herself at Defender's Heart, informing Commander that Irabeth has asked her to assist in escorting the commander around the city. She's a bit curt and formal in this introduction, though the commander will realize she's not entirely trustful of them. 

General Personality:

At first impression, Kadira is a dutiful young woman whose initial shyness might be mistaken for arrogant - an impression that can quickly melt away depending on the KC's actions. Rather, her distance is self protection due to living in a city that sees her as a constant reminder of the Worldwound and from the Inquisitors who are too eager to clamp down on the tiniest bit of heresy. When comfortable with others, Kadira is considerably kind, bright, and a reliable friend and ally. She becomes giddy with excitement in sharing her knowledge, though it's more prone to being helpful than to showing off.

Due to her seemingly well organized and loyalty to the Eagle Watch, many mistake Kadira for being lawful more so than chaotic. If pressed Kadira would say that any method that helps the benefit of all should be used, if following the letter of the law can save more soldiers, she'll stick to it. If flipping a table and demanding a change of guard can save more civilians, she'll do it. 

Kadira, however, can be prone to being far too sharp with some of the more forceful characters within the commander's party, and she has a high sense of morals - goodness is what she's truly loyal to and is quick to leave if she finds the Commander is dangerous - meaning she will leave under Lich, Demon, or Devil paths without the right circumstance. 

In romance, Kadira returns to her cautious nature once more, she compares herself to other LIs harshly, considering herself as too boring in personality and a required taste. However as she opens up, Kadira is playful, affectionate, and open with her affections. There is a spicer element in her romance around Chapter 4. 

What traits/values do they admire?

Compassion, ingenuity, competence, and humor. 

What traits/values do they disapprove of?

Mistaking cruelty for pragmaticism, putting methods before morality, hard love methods, grasshoppers and locusts. 

Are they affiliated with any deities?

Kadira worships Shelyn, though her focus is primary on Shelyn's role as a goddess of love and compassion with art being secondary. Though she doesn't bring it up often with the other companions save conversations with Sosiel, Trevor, and Wenduag. However, the commander can find her sketching the flora and fauna around camp and in the march to Drezen, Drezen, and the Abyss. 

What do they think of their role in the Crusades, and of sharing the Commander’s Mythic powers?

Kadira has a unique perspective due to the mundanity of her life, notably so compared to the other companions coming from Kenabras. As someone with Sarkorian heritage, she's very aware how much of her culture has been lost due to the demons and the crusaders, and that the only way to get it back is to close the Worldwound. She finds the Eagle Watch the least problematic among the crusaders, though she often attempts to speak with Irabeth about why Mendevians are the way they are with minor success. 

Kadira never expected such a role, and if she had to be honest she felt she was fighting the good fight that wouldn't end well for Golarion. She's honored and a little overwhelmed with her powers, due to the fall out with her family, but has to admit she enjoys their uses. 

Upon finding out the powers are from the Abyss, Kadira will react reasonably with non-evil paths, pointing out that ultimately the KC is choosing how to use their powers and isn't bound to fate. She strongly approves of Angel, Azata, and Gold Dragon paths, and tolerates Aeon and Trickster. Kadira will leave the party, regardless of romance, if the commander goes Demon, Lich, Devil, or Swarm. However, with a Another Archdevil Path, she might be able to stay… 

What are their reasons for joining the commander’s party?

Kadira's reasons to join are simple, she was assigned as a guide to the commander by Irabeth, and knows the city well and many of the named NPCs that the party can interact within the city. Her reliability and skills make her a useful member of the companions and she's dedicated to stopping the demon threat. 

Who are their friends among the other party members?

Arueshalae - The relationship begins with outright curiosity and Kadira becomes more animated in talking with Arue as the game goes on. Eventually she'll discuss that change is just as much a part of 'law' as 'chaos', otherwise the universe stagnates - and what Desna is doing for Arue isn't chaotic. It's ultimately 'good'. As a romance rival, Kadira is very much loyal to Arue and encourages her to follow her feelings. 

Ember - Kadira knows Ember, and Ember knows Kadira, and Kadira cannot fault Ember for her rejection of the gods. She worries that Ember does too much and tries to encourage her to stay at the camp or at Drezen. She's deeply concerned when Ember is kidnapped but becomes so very proud of Ember's courage. 

Lann - Kadira and Lann get along well, often exchanging banter and jokes with each other in their reactivity. She does become dismayed when Lann leans more into 'lawful evil' than 'lawful good'. She also trades methods on how to groom horns as the crusade progresses. He can also be 'romanced' by Kadira if the KC encourages it. She gets very conflicted about being a romantic rival with Lann, because her ‘canon’ crush on him. 

Seelah - Kadira has some prejudice against paladins and inquisitors, so she's half unsure that Seelah compassion and friendliness is real. Eventually Kadira will warm up to Seelah and there will be a few camp banters where they're both drunk and cackling about Cayden Cailean hitting on both their goddesses. 

Woljif - Woljif and Kadira become like squabbling siblings at times, Woljif having the remarkable knack of getting Kadira's nerves. However she is fierce in defending Woljif when he runs away and when dealing with his fiendish relatives. 

What about neutral?

Ulrbrig - She’ll be fascinated by the big man, constantly asking him questions about their old homeland. He finds her endearing at first, but when he finds she’s a wizard, he becomes rather cold. Kadira is remarkably hurt by this. 

Trevor - She never becomes friends with Trevor, who doesn't understand why a wizard would worship Shelyn, but she always remains unfailingly kind towards him. 

Sosiel - There is a strange rivalry between the two. Kadira is far more focused on Shelyn's love and compassion than her art, despite her attempts to perform art, and finds Sosiel clings a little too much to the 'rules' when love has no rules. She also attempts to ask if his distrust of the Hellknights is based on what they do, or propaganda by his homeland. However, she does agree if the Hellknights over welcome their stay, she’ll treat them like she will any demon cultists. 

Nenio - The two are remarkable foils as wizards; Nenio is arrogant about her intelligence and collects knowledge blindly. Kadira gently downplays her intelligence and uses knowledge as a benefit for others. Nenio doesn't care about the lack of her past but Kadira cares a little too much about her past.  

Greybor - She's one of the few people Greybor is uncomfortable with, and that's due to the fact Kadira was abandoned by her father. While Kadira is not the one who brings it up, Greybor does once or twice. He slides into the friendship side after her Act 5 quest, being remarkably compassionate. (Over what? Good question!) 

Regill - Kadira will claim that the fundamental wrongness of the Hellknights is their adherence to dogma and refusing to see the Law as transmutable reference for how a society should act in the Material Plane, notably when the Hellknights have their own biases what pragmatism is. Regill tells her she's too naive and needs more discipline. However, they both admire their end goals even if their take of said goals are remarkably different pathways. 

What about rivals?

Camellia - Unlike Kadira as a Knight Commander, Kadira as a companion doesn't know much of her family's former Green Faith. She finds Camellia largely boring and hypocritical, Camellia is no meaner to her than she is to most people. Kadira actually can lose her temper and will go on about how they're both bastards of peasant stock. Camellia will absolutely mock Kadira’s lack of experience as a romance rival for the KC… nevermind that Camellia is on the same boat. 

Wenduag - Kadira and Wenduag do not get along; Wenduag finds her weak in nature and doesn't appericiate her Kadira's role as a support caster. Kadira finds Wenduag's method of bootlicking as disgusting and finds her lack of planning troublesome for Wenduag's people. As rivals, Kadira is oddly meek, and Wenduag does prey on it. 

Daeran - Kadira dislikes Daeran, who is largely amused by her (and attracted), though Kadira never hesitates to let him know his misanthropy is hardly unique - punching up while pissing at the feet of others doesn't make him special. She becomes kinder to him after his Act 2/3 quest, picking up his discomfort but never approaching him about it at the party. (DLC dependent) If Kadira is the only DLC companion that romances Daeran downloaded, he can be a romance for her. As rivals, he hints they really ought to join forces to capture the KC's heart. If Kadira is with other DLC companions who romance Daeran, Kadira will not romance Daeran. As rivals, Daeran is quick to mock the traits that she finds uncomfortable. 

Other NPCs

Kadira has a friends with benefits relationship with Ramien in her recent past. When romanced by the PC by Act 3 and if Ramien survives in Act 1, the cleric will head to Drezen regardless of who is the Prelate of Kenabras to engage in a more romantic affair with Kadira. If Daeran is in the party while talking to Ramien and referring to their past affair, Kadira will react to the conversation. There will be a reaction from Daeran in Act 3 about the relationship. Ramien doesn't die during Act 5 outside the Angel and Trickster path due to a protective ring Kadira gave him. 

Kadira begins a long distance romance with Aranka should she not be romanced by the PC. Aranka will arrive in Drezen in Act 3, regardless of the mythic path the KC is on. There isn't as much reactivity by the party, save Arue or Seelah encouraging the romance in camp banters once the affair begins. Aranka will give Kadira a ring before Kadira must go to the Abyss along with the KC.

Kadira is very fond of Gretlen and her idiosyncratic acting trope, knowing that joy is very important in such dark times. She'll always encourage the commander to speak to Gretlen during her conversations in all acts. At times there will be scenes at the camp and in Drezen where Kadira is attempting to help with the play. 

One Eye Devil, Kadira becomes friends with the merchant due to both being devilkin in a land of Doomspawn. Sadly, this friendship doesn't help with discounts. His possible death in Act 5 is a blow to Kadira. 

DLC Companions

Coming soon

Are they on any councils? If so, what sort of advice do they give?

Kadira would be placed on the military and logistics council. She's prone to focusing on the citizens of the worldwound and then its soldiers. She will often champion better equipment and well trained units at the cost of smaller units.

Where do they hang out in Drezen? In the Abyss?

During the city's siege: Kadira will be helping with the refugees inside and will be absolutely enraptured by the golem, asking him questions and being delighted with any and all comments.

On the March: Usually on the outskirts, found crouched and looking at shrubs, she'll say she's a bit busy and wants to get this sketch done. 

In Drezen: Prior to the Ivory Sanctum, Kadira can be found just about anywhere, if not talking to One Eye, the Golem, Wilcer or drawing scrub bushes or birds. After the Sanctum in a romance state, Kadira can be found talking to Ramien and the Hand.If the KC encourages her to romance others, she can be found next to Ramien/Aranka/Lann/Daeran depending if she's in romance. If she's not romancing anyone, she can be found near the Hand. 

At the Nexus: Kadira is everywhere outside, she'll complain about the energy but she's still drawing. There will be three or four cycle animations of her in various areas, exclaiming about how she's shocked how harmless these plants can be. 

What are their idle animations?

straightening her skirts

holding a spell book with her tail, paging through the contents with her fingers

checking her tail behind her

checking her hooves, raising her skirts  

playing with a pen while her tail sways behind her

stretching her goat legs and looking so cute!

If they’re taken to Areelu’s lab, what is their dream?

Kadira dreams of a shadowy figure rushing towards her, enfolding her into a hug. She sounds like she's sobbing as she clings desperately and whispers 'Gramps'. When awake, she will be in pain and answer the question of what she was dreaming with this, "That my family accepted me." 

Do they advise the commander to abandon or keep their mythic powers?

Angel: Kadira approves of these powers, saying that how one uses power is more important than the origin of power. She'll remind the KC how all the good and justice they've done and that they've shaped the power. She understands Iomedae's worry, but she's followed the commander from the start. 

Azata: Kadira approves of these powers, saying that how one uses power is more important than the origin of power. She'll remind the KC how all the good and justice they've done and that they've shaped the power. She understands Iomedae's worry, but she's followed the commander from the start. 

Trickster: Kadira will be doubtful of the power, saying how one uses power is more important than the origin of the power. That being said, she'll note that it's not so much the chaos that Trickster causes but rather how it's slowly eating away at the KC's psyche and do they truly want to risk that? 

Aeon: Kadira will be doubtful of the power, saying how one uses power is more important than the origin of the power. That being said, she'll note that it's not so much the chaos that Trickster causes but rather how it's slowly eating away at the KC's psyche and do they truly want to risk that? She will try to remind the commander that rules are impossible to keep not because they're wrong, but rather they're guidelines.

Lich: Kadira will leave if the KC stays on the Lich Path. 

Demon: Kadira will leave if the KC stays on the Demon Path. 

Gold Dragon: Kadira is in awe, and approves of this new path greatly. 

Swarm: Kadira leaves. 

Legend: Kadira approves of this, telling the KC that sometimes the greatest power comes from within. 

Vanilla Devil Path: Kadira will leave if the KC steps on the Devil Path. 

The Other Archdevil's Devil Path: The KC will have a chance to be offered power by a different Archdevil on the Angel or Lich path. Which Archdevil is this? What will Kadira do? Well, that’s for the next update…

Provide some dialogue/bark examples!

When selected:

"What can I do?"

"You rang? (amused)"

"Oh! Yes! Wait, let me cross the t..." 

"No time like the present."

"Need my expertise? (Hopeful)" 

Assigned a task:

"Of course!"

"Let me handle it."

"I know what to do!"

"I read this in a book, once." 

Success:

"Perfect!"

"I'm glad you trusted me." 

Failure:

"I guess I didn't get to that part of the book."

"Well, mistakes do help us to become better..."

"Shoot." 

Magic Item Failure:

“But I read the instruction manual, twice!” 

Spotted something:

"Oh! How interesting!"

"Wait! Stop! Don't step on it!"

"Hmm?" 

Into battle:

"You are intolerable." 

"Oh, demons and cults. How surprising." 

"Get out of my homeland!" 

Critical hit:

"Gotcha."

Health low:

“I... knew I should have studied medicine.”

Falls unconscious:

“I will ... know better... next time.." 

Refusing to equip something:

“I feel this is a bit bulky for me."

"Oh! This is something only Shelyn could love..."

“Don’t you know how heavy this is?”

"I-I don't know how to use this." 

If romanced after sex:

"Wait... it's cold out there. I want you to be warm."

"The idea of lingering and waiting for you is... a perfect use of time."

"I'll be thinking about you all day." 

"I... take care of yourself, if I can't?" 

“I promise I’ll use my tail. Again.” 

(coming later!) Quests/Romance

(coming later) Endings/Banter

[silversiren1101]

Wrath of the Righteous - Companion Opinions

Send an emoji corresponding to a companion along with a moment or point in time in the game! Reply with an in-character quote for that companion sharing their thoughts on your Knight Commander right then OR your Knight Commander’s thoughts on them! Or both!

🛡️Seelah

🩸Camellia

🦎 Lann

🕷️Wenduag

😈 Woljif

⚔️ Finnean

🔥Ember

😇Daeran

🦊 Nenio

🦅Ulbrig

🎨Sosiel

📜 Regill

🦋 Arueshalae

💨 Greybor

🥀 Trever

👑 Galfrey

[code31-onthedancefloor]

this is a bit silly but i enjoy the thought of Required Reading becoming somewhat immortal due to the plasm output of the commieghosts and students combined. during le retour perhaps Required Reading becomes something of a guerrilla attack method as it is very difficult to fight or shoot someone when there is a plasm-supercharged cat attacking your face. she rides on uli's shoulders and carries medkits in her little backpack & sniffs out ppl buried under rubble. if the students start to mutate, so should she - with all the love in the apartment + community directed towards her.

[therisingphoenixden]

Oofies. I haven't played a dhampir in Wrath of the Righteous before, and to hear all my companions except Daeran insult undeath and the undead in front of a half-undead had me cackling.

The question is, do I want to at least unlock the Lich path before the assault on Drezen even if I don't take it?

[offsidekineticist]

This one’s going out on a limb but I will posit that Theo’s anxiety levels get to screaming pitch in the Abyss, so much so that when he’s captured in the Battlebliss it’s a relief not to have to keep trying to control what’s going on.

Oooooh. Oooooooooh. That's a good one. Like a "makes me stop and think that part of the story through more closely and forces us to discuss some of Theo's less amusing flaws" good one. I'm gonna call that 7/10 - mostly true but not quite.

CW: Anxiety, suicidal ideation, verbal abuse, ego death

The Abyss absolutely stresses him the fuck out. He tries to lean on his aeon powers to cope, but at this point he doesn't really believe in the aeon's spiel, he just knows that following the party line gives him time travel powers that save people. And that lack of belief limits how useful the aeon can be. So I think during the Abyss a lot of his uglier traits come to the forefront because he's drowning, and the only way he knows to deal with that is to lash out in a way that is kind of verbally abusive, especially in the context of his friends and Greybor not being able to leave him without stranding themselves in the Abyss. (It, uh, does not help the Hand's opinion of him...)

I don't think he sees being captured in the Battlebliss as a relief. He still feels like he has all the same obligations as before, but even less power to fulfill them. But I do think he has a moment very much like you're describing later, after their airship crashes on the way to Colyphyr Mines, and everyone ends up sick and starving. There's a moment where Hepzamirah's people show up, and I think that's when he feels relief, because he thinks there's no hope. As long as there was a possibility of success, no matter how unlikely, it was Theo's responsibility to get the team there. Once that possibility of success drops to zero, there's nothing he can do. It's over. And that's a huge relief.

....and then they're taken prisoner instead of dying in a gloriously pathetic battle as he expected, and now hope is back on the menu and so is the anxiety.

I think somewhere around here is where he gives up on trying to hold onto who he is and what he believes and truly lets the aeon take over, because he realizes he can't continue like this. It's really sad because part of this moment of clarity is him realizing his behavior towards his friends and Greybor has been unacceptable, but his takeaway is that everyone would be better off with the aeon (and without him).

(OK just to keep this from ending on such a downer: Theo's ego death isn't as final as it seems. I may have tweaked the ending slightly, and his solution to the worldwound is basically an expression of the best parts of who Theo is and gives a glimpse of who he could have been without Areelu's meddling. It's really bittersweet cuz he gets to go out fully as himself, even if he still doesn't get a happy ending. So yay?)

[mintharan]

lrb and honestly it's something that in particular only da and most recently bg3 do. with owlcat games the problem is that your character has so much authority that it's not really feasible for the party to chafe against them too much. i do need to do an heretical run in rogue trader to see if this changes, but even if they disapprove on icon they're kind of 'politely shittalking my superior' at best.

[myladysapphire]

To Gwayne, with love

tired of being ingored and undervalued, you take your dragon and leave to find the one person who sees you for who you really are; your uncle, Gwayne Hightower

based of this request

word count: 5,086

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, loss of virginity, p in v, fingering, oral (f reciving), incest, angts, love letters (if the title wasnt a hint), fluff, love confessions, not proofread!

Gwayne Hightower x neice!reader

Masterlist

Growing up as the eldest child, and eldest daughter of Alicent and Viserys you had long felt unwanted and overlooked.

Where your twin, Aegon, was seen as a future king, the rightful heir, you were seen as only a daughter, pushed to the side and out of the limelight.

Always looked over, even when it came to marriage. Where it made sense for you to marry Aegon, Heleana married him instead.

You were overlooked, and often forgotten.

Even events held in your honour were overshadowed, be it by your twin or your eldest sister Rhaenrya.

Countless nights tears had filled your eyes as you were pushed aside in favour of another sibling.

It was a funny thing really, you were the eldest daughter and yet were the last to be betrothed, excluding Daeron that was. And yet you had once been dubbed the Realms heart, you had been kind and sweet. But years of neglect, being undervalued and ignored had turned you cold and restless and made you a rebel. Where your uncle Daemon was the rouge prince, you were the defiant princess.

You had stopped waiting by the sidelines, stopped keeping too yourself and your thoughts stopped being quiet. you become outspoken, even more so when your brother was crowned king.

But all that seemed for nought as you were now meet with roll of eyes and the sound of the key locking your chambers from the outside.

You couldn’t say you were surprised, not when your mother seemed to hate you more than Aegon.

She never understood you, only one person had.

Gwayne Hightower, your uncle.

You and he had an understanding that others could only envy, you couldn’t put it into words but ever since you had meet him you felt inexplicitly drawn to him.

And yet you had only meet him thrice.

But those three times amounted into countless letters.

When one was sent two would follow, even on the road Gwayne never failed to write.

Until now.

You were sat in your chambers and an ache in your chest as you read through the last of Gwayne letters. Near two weeks had passed since his last had arrived, and these past two weeks had been when you had needed his letters the most.

dearest niece,

Words cannot describe the joy I felt upon seeing you the other, even if only for a few hours before my departure.

You have grown ever so beautiful, and I envy those who got to watch you became the beauty you are today, though I envy them more for the endless pleasure of your company.

Who knew your wit was even more compelling in person, dear niece?

I sure did not and yet your endless humour is known what I crave as I am stuck of this endless rode with ser Criston as the most interesting of my companions.

And let me tell you he is far duller than you painted. (Not that you painted him to have much of a personality aside form swords and a love for oranges.)

Perhaps it his cockiness or the self-righteousness he has as the new lord hand, which makes his so dull. He seems to love to point out his new station to us all, especially my Hightower knights, as if that will win him any favours.

Though I truly believe he thinks himself funny, though his voice is always far to monotone to decipher what is an attempt at a joke or what is orders and commands.

Gods, I wish I had stolen you away with me, even just to share the looks at Criston ‘jokes’ as he calls them.

Honestly, he is perhaps the dullest man I have ever met, what your mother sees in him I’ll never know.

But I must admit little of my time is spent completing his joke when I cannot stop thinking of you.

Tomorrow, we ride to rook’s rest, he says he has some plan, I do not quite believe it will be a good one, but I shall prey to the seven that we will be victorious, and I may see you again.

Yours, Gwayne.

You had replied far to quickly though being locked n your chamber after yelling you would ride your dragon to meet your uncle would of course leave you with little to do.

To Gwayne,

I am truly sorry you are stuck with such a dreadful man, if I had gone with you I can assure you however there would not have been much time to dwell of Cristons joke attempts, I would steal far to much of your attention, perhaps enough were you were unable to fight in this silly little war.

I do hope your thoughts of me do not distract you too much.

I wish you great luck in at rook’s rest though I fear you may have to face Meleys, and in which case I pray my mother sees sense and allows me to ride out and join the fight on moonfyers, though I Highley doubted.

But from Aegon’s visit to my prison cell (my chamber’s), it seems he is quite egar to fight, though seeing as how the small council so easily sway his mind, I doubt he will, unless he drinks himself into a false sense of courage that is.

But I pray you do not repeat those words, especially to my mother.

I too crave for your presence; it is a misery that despite years of letters we have met thrice! And the third was only days ago.

 Perhaps when you go, we can make your visits permanent.

I pray for your victory uncle, and your next letter.

With love, your dearest niece.

You had sent that letter 12 days ago; rooks rest was 10 days ago.

Of course, the journey back must be accounted for, but no one had any news, besides the death of Meleys and the princess Rhaneys, the queen who never was.

You had rather liked her, in fact you hoped to model yourself of her in some way. Though you had no right to morn you suppose, you had never spoken to her bar the common pleasantries.

You stood starting out of the window, craving the day you could smash them down and make your escape. Though where you would go, you did not know. Before the war you had one destination in mind, oldtown. Now there was no one there for you, just as there wasn’t anyone here.

The forgotten daughter. No matter how defiant you became you would only be tolerated and ignored. Your actions simple receive a tolled eye and of course, the action of yet gain being locked in your chamber.

Perhaps if your mind hadn’t been so caught up in your loathing and thoughts of jumping from your window onto the back of moonfyers you would have noticed the door opening and the feel of hands slowly covering your eyes.

You jumped in shock as your eyes were covered, only to calm down when a voice spoke.

“Guess who?” a mans voice teased, though it was the voice you had ingrained into your memory.

“Gwayne” you breathed turning around.

He laughed as you hugged him.

“When did you get back?” you asked, arms still wrapped around him.

“Only moments ago,” he sighed, “did you miss me?” he teased.

Slapping his arm lightly, you stepped back “of course not”.

“Hmm…really?” he tilted his head, clicking his tongue, “I could have sworn your letter said- “

“Stop it!” you said hitting his shoulder again.

“Fine!” he said raising his hands up in mock surrender, “only if you top hitting my arm, your poor uncle has just fought a battle”.

You rolled your eyes “and am I to presume you were victorious uncle?”

“If you could call it that”.

“What do you mean?”

He looked nervous, an expression you had never seen on him before, “your brother Aegon- “

“Aegon went! That fool”

“a fool who got himself injured”.

“what” you asked, voice full of concern. Though an outcast, overshadowed by your twin, you still cared for him greatly, even if he never showed care for you in return.

He explained what had happened and your mind spun, no one had said a thing to you and yet your twin brother lay dying in his rooms.

“I must go see him” you rushed out, heading towards the door, only for Gwayne to grip your arm.

“Go later.” He insisted, “for now stay with me! and here my woeful tales of battle”.

Shaking your head with a laugh you sit back down, listening to tales of Gwanye’s journey and of the battle, and all thoughts of Aegon were forgotten.

You woke up finding yourself wrapped in Gwayne arms on your settee. You didn’t remember falling asleep, only talking and watching the sunset and rise once more.

It must have been past noon and yet no one had knocked or come to see you, not that they had before now.

You looked over at Gwayne, he was tired, even after hours of sleep he still had bags under his yes.  

Removing yourself from his arms slowly, you made your way out of your rooms and towards your brothers.

Aegon lay alone. The room dark and empty, bar his aching, unconscious body, half his body covered in bandages, his body deadly slit and his breath shaky.

You moved closer to the bed, coming forward and placing a soft kiss on his brow.

He may be terrible, drunken whoremonger but he was still your brother.

“Aegon” you breathed heavily, taking his unburnt hand in yours, “I- “ the doors opened, and your mother barged in, “get out!” she demanded.

“Mother, I- “you said standing up.

“Get out” she said once more, coming to sit by Aegon’s side.

Standing up and moving towards the door slowly, “he’s my brother, I have every right to be here!”

She looked at you, scoffing “that matters not, now leave and go back to your rooms”.

Rolling your eyes you left and stormed back to your rooms.

“Gwayne” you breathed, seeing him now awake and sitting up, reading a book.

“How Is Aegon” he asked, as you approached.

“a sleep? I do not know my mother sent me out only a few moments after I had entered.”

He kissed his teeth, “your mother has changed much recently”.

“Recently? She has always been liked this, with me at least”

“I know, my darling… I think she- “he stopped himself, looking at you, “I am not sure what she thinks actually, me and her where never close growing up”.

You huffed, looking over at him and realising that the book he was reading was in fact your diary.

“Is that my diary!”

“no” he said dragging out the word as he moved the book out of your reach.

“Where did you- how did you”

“Do not worry how your “beautiful and daring uncle” found it”.

You gasped, crawling over him to try and reach your diary.

He laughed, as you grasped at the book, “give it back” you insisted.

“But Gwayne would be never- “

You reached the book, slapping it out of his hand, “how much of it did you read?”

“Why did you not want me to read of how much you missed me?”

“Gwayne” you sighed, looking at him, you were practically lying on him, your hands leaning on chest as you reached for your diary of the floor.

“darling” he replied, before looking at you sadly, his hand reaching to caress your cheek, “I have to go soon”.

“To your chambers or to oldtown?” you asked sadly.

“Oldtown, I – “

You interrupted him, “when?”

“We leave after dinner, we thought it best to travel at night, out of sight of dragons”.

“I see” you said moving off of him. He reached for you, trying to draw you back towards him.

Everyone always leaves or ignored you. It seemed no matter how close you got you were so easily abandoned, never once had someone stayed.

“I would ask you to come, but your mother would never allow it” he said shaking his head.

Why would she allow it? It would make you happy and the gods know how much your mother craved your misery.

“Do you think there will ever be a time when-when we can spend limitless time together?”

“I hope so, I- “he always stopped himself from saying it, saying the one thing they both craved.

“As do I”

The rest of the day was spent together craving to spend every second that they could together, but in the end, he had to leave. He was bound by duty and honour.

Saying goodbye this time was harder than the few times before it. You both stood in the courtyard, his men stood the side, their own conversations distracting them.

Your mother having said her goodbyes, and had left the courtyard already, leaving you both to say your goodbyes.

“I hope it is not to long before I can see you again” you said looking down to thew ground and kicking at the gravel.

“As do I” Gwayne said grabbing your hand and kissing it gently.

Your eyes shared a look, a look saying everything you both couldn’t.

“I’ll miss you” you breathed heavily, eyes never leaving his.

you both stepped closer, now inches apart.

You moved your lips to kiss his cheek, only for Gwayne to move his head and capture your lips with his, in a soft delicate kiss.  

The shadows of the keep kept you had hidden from wandering eyes as you kissed.

It was short but sweet and left you both wanting more as he was forced to step back from you.

He whispered softly “I will think of you, always”.

“As will I” you said, reaching into you hem and pulling out your handkerchief, you had sown the initial of your name and his ono it, and placed it in the palm of his hand.

Closing is hand you softly placed a kiss onto it.

“goodbye” he spoke, before moving to his horse and riding off, sending you a final look before he left.

The days tricked by, blurring together. Aegon’s recovering slow and with little change.

You stayed in your room, much to your mother’s delight.

Letters were exchanged between you and Gwayne. But this time the letters seemed different, this time they were bolder, your feelings no longer hidden.

Dearest,

I left you only moments ago and yet I miss you already.

That kiss was everything and more, I cannot believe it took us so long to do it, even of it happened by a mistake.

I am sorry our reunion was so brief, and I wish I was bound to you and not duty.

I shall write again soon, but in the meantime, I hope the thought of you in my thoughts will tide you over.

Yours, Gwyane.

Dear Gwayne,

You just left my side and yet apart of me left with you.

I hope your thoughts are filled with me as mine are of you.

The walk back to my room was a long one, longer than it had ever taken me as I had to drag myself away from you, away from moonfyers as thoughts of chasing after you filled my mind.

My mind was a mess all night, much to my mother’s disappointment. Though I doubt she noticed my mind was with you and not in the keep.

This morrow I was awoken absurdly early and summoned to the small council!

And before you say anything I am not sure as to why, even after attending it.

I seemed to be there as a way to boost Aemond’s moral? Or should I say the prince regents.

I was simple them to watch plans be made, and to be told of an alliance, a marriage between me and some lords son, I believe some Tully.

I refused and they demanded.

I offered my dragon, they refused, and I demanded.

They claimed a woman in battle would only lead to a loss. Even if moonfyers is bigger than most for her age and even rivals Caraxes.

Anything else was ignored and dismissed and I was quickly ushered to my chambers and forced to plan a wedding.

A wedding I wish was with you.

I do not know what to do, uncle.

Please tell me to come to you, and I will.

Yours always.

My love,

The days are endlessly long, and I find myself craving you by myside more than ever.

You chase my every though both awake and asleep.

And forgive me for beings bold, niece, but I can, no will not hold back what I have longed to crave any longer.

I wished I had placed you upon my horse and ridden of with you into the night, defying your mother and brothers’ commands.

But I want you, more than I need air to breath. And for so long I have defied myself and held back my desires, my love for you.

I beg you, come to me.

Forget their plans and demands, come to me and marry me.

I am set to arrive in old town in two days, leaving you plenty of time to come to me.

With love, Gwyane.

To Gwyane,

I will come to you, it may take a few days, but I cannot stay here. And I will not stay away from you any longer.

With love, your heart.

you sat in your chambers, contemplation how you to leave.

Though there were secret passageways in your room, you had never used them. They were like a labyrinth in truth and the one time you had speed in them you feared you would get lost.

And the guards stationed outside of your door were stationed for the exact reason you were event you were currently planning.

your other would never let you go willingly, not now especially.

But then again you doubted she would notice you were gone, at least for a day or two.

Heleana may notice, but she wouldn’t say a thing.

Aemond had just been given what he always wanted and would flaunt his power as much as he could, meaning he’d keep put of your way, in fear you would ‘act up’, as he called it, and embarrass him.

This meant that the guards were your only issue, and perhaps Larys spy’s. though you cared not for them for what could they do to stop you? Tattle to Larys who would sell the information for the sight of your mother’s feet? Even then you would have a few hours.

Luckly for you however, you knew your guards. And they had a penchant for wine.

“Steffon, Gregor” you whispered opening your door a bottle of Dornish red in hand.

“Princess” they nodded, tuning around to ignore you.

“You must be bored” you started, “perhaps you can join me for a drink?” you said, fluttering your eyelashes.

They turned to face each other unsure of what to do, “oh come on, know one will care. You’ll still be guarding me, won’t you?”

Their eyes wandered to the bottle of wine “is that the only bottle, princess?”

You scoffed, “of course not”.

They smiled and ushered you in to your chamber.

It was funny, you must have done this a dozen time before and they still fell for it every time.

And being such lightweights, they were quick to fall into a drunken sleep, allowing you to grab your bag and make a run for the dragon pit.

Running through the streets of Kingslanding at night were dan, especially in your rich clothes and jewels.         

And seeing as you had only walked to the dragon pit once or twice, with the company of a dozen guards, the run was a lot longer than expected.

Getting lost in the never-ending streets of flea bottom was easy, and before you knew it you had somehow ended up on the streets of silk.

“gods” you mumbled, looking around in search of a sign to lead you in the right direction.

You could see the dragon pit, so at least you weren’t too far away, only issue is the brothel with the name ‘Chantaya’s’ seemed to stand in the way of a quick exit.

“sister” you heard someone say, and the sight of Aemond exiting said brothel, through you into a sprint once again.

You were sure you looked like some pick pocket as you ran through the street, Aemond hot on your tale.

And with being such a stranger to kings landing you found yourself meeting an end and Aemond catching up to you.

“Let go of me” you muttered trying to pull yourself free from Aemond’s grasp.

“Who let you out” he sneered.

“Does it matter?” you sneered in return, “what are you even doing here?” you asked, and Aemond face dropped.

“I could ask you the same”.

“I wanted to go to the dragon pit” “the dragon pit” he reiterated, not believing you. “To what? Declare for the usurper?”

“Gods no” you near yelled, “I- “you were hesitant to tell him, having never got on along with him and never having much to say to him at all, this was honestly the most you and he had spoken since the start of the war. “I wish to go to oldtown”.

“why”

“To…to see Gwyane”.

“Our uncle?”

“Do you know of another Gwyane I could possibly wish to see in oldtown?” you said snidely.

He hummed, looking at you with a smirk, “I am your prince regent, I command you know” he said, “one word from me and I could have you locked in the black cells, or I could command you to go to oldtown to gather forces, with Gwayne”

You hated that you looked at him hopeful and hated even more that if he asked you would beg.

“But why, dear sister? Should I command you to oldtown? You are the future lady Tully after all”.

You scoffed, “oh please, we both know the Tullys are hardly loyal now and the second old Grover Tully dies they’ll declare for the black’s”.

“true”

“And why would you want me here anyway? I do not listen, and I defy your every move, sending me a way would better your rule, would it not?”

“Oh sister, you truly have been undervalued. Fine I shall take you to the dragon pit and order you to oldtown.”

Order you? As if there was a single part of you that did not already crave to be there, with him.

The walk to the dragon pit was a quiet and awkward, with Aemond pulling you by the hand, a tight grip as if you would try to escape.

Not a word was exchanged even as you entered, only your words commanding the dragon keepers to fetch you moonfyers and Aemond stood beside you in his usual stance.

He gave you a taunting wave as you took flight, and you never looked back.

It took five hours for you to reach oldtown.

A storm thundered as you entered the reach, rain dowsing your and obstructing your vison. Had it not been for the bright blue scales of your brother’s dragon, Tesserion you were sure you would have flown into the Hightower.

Landing, you were quickly greeted with guards and the face of your brother Daeron.

“Brother” you greeted as you slide of your dragon, “a pleasure to see you!”

“And you, Gwayne said you were coming” he nodded, hand raised to stop rain pouring over his face, “come in, quickly”

The Hightower, was exactly as you envisioned, filled with riches and symbols of the seven. It looked like a museum almost.

You were brough into a room lined with seats and walls filled with books. Painting filled with the faces of old lords and ladies, and tapestry depicting Aegon s landing in oldtown and his coronation.

“niece” you heard a voice breath, causing your inspection to come to a halt as you turned and faced Gwayne,

“uncle” you breathed in return and not a moment later were you running into his arms and your lips meeting once more.

This kiss was different than the one in the courtyard, this one was filled with longing, filled with pure love and desire.

Years of want filling you mouths your lips moved against each other.

“Gwayne” you whispered against his lips, as you both breathed heavily, your heads leant against each others.

He whispered your name in return, “you came” he breathed, not quite believing it.

“of course, you asked…and the prince regent commanded it”

He laughed “what?”

“when I was making my mistake i came across Aemond leaving a brothel” you laughed, “and somehow he decided to command me to oldtown to gather forces”

“oh?” he said, head tilting, “I see…does that mean you now command me?”

“do I not anyway?” you asked tauntingly.

He laughed, grabbing you to him once more and pulling you into another kiss, “I believe we command each other, my love” he said breaking the kiss.

“my love?”

“my love” he agreed, caressing your cheek, “I love you” he finally admitted.

And you smiled. Looking at him as he always looked at you.

He always had seen you, understood you when no one else did.

And the look in his yes, it was pure love and you had never felt more seen than in this moment.

“I love you” you replied, and he smiled.

“come with me” he said taking your hand and leading you up to his room.

His room, though perhaps smaller than others, was still large and full of all things Gwayne. With his own mural and tapestry.

“do you like it?” he asked, taking note of your eyes that had not left the tapestry he had commissioned.

“is that?” you asked, unsure if you were seeing it right.

“Moonfyer and you, yes”

“gods, Gwyane” you said breathlessly, a mural of you riding moonfyers for the first time, your second time meeting Gwyane and the first time you and he realised the bond between you both.

You turned to face him, and kissed him once more.

Unlike before this kiss was heated, passionate and full of lust.                                                                                                 

His hands moved to your waist, as you slowly moved towards the bed, your hands reaching and pulling at his clothes, taking them of and leaving him in only his small clothes.

Your dress wet and soaked was quickly torn of you intern, leaving you only in your soaked chemise.

Their lips broke apart as her legs hit the bed. Taking each other in Gwayne moaned at the sight of your breast peeking out through the now sheer chemise.

“can i?” Gwayne breathed, hand coming to toy with the strap of your chemise.

You nodded, allowing your chemise to slip and leaving you bare before him.

“gods” he breathed, “ you are beautiful” he said, before pushing you down on the bed, his lips connecting with yours.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, nipping at your skin, causing you to moan softly.

He kissed his way down your body, before he reached your cunt.

“can i?” he asked once more, eager to taste her cunt.

“yes”  you said, not quite sure what he intended to do until you felt his nose nudge between your thighs and a slow lick alone the length of your cunt.

groaning at the taste, he quickly went back licking and tasting your cunt, like a man starved. You moaned pleasure, hands moving to tug his hair as he found your clit.

Touching yourself had never felt like this, the sheer pleasure you felt as he sucked your clit into his mouth was better than any orgasm you had brought yourself to before, even more so when you felt his fingers toying with your entrance.

You tensed as his fingers entered you. They were thicker and longer than your own and you started to feel the stretch as he pumped you full of his two fingers.

You moaned, your body moving off the bed as you his fingers pumped in and out.

His hand moved to your waist gripping you down as he continued to fill you, your moans filling the room as his third finger entered you and you soon reached your peak.

He slowly backed away from you, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick cock.

“oh!” you spoke, at the sight of him.

“oh? Not good enough niece?” he asked teasingly.

“gods, it, yes” you nodded, reaching out to him.

He laughed, before slowly crawling onto the bed, his body covering yours. Taking your lips his, in a passionate and heated kiss, as his legs slowly parted yours as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he breathed against your lips, hand holding your waist as his cock teased your entrance.

You nodded, reaching forward to kiss him again, “yes”.

At the word he entered you slowly.

You groaned at the stretch but found no pain as he entered you.

His long cock filling you, a bulge appearing in your stomach as he allowed time for you to adjust.

“gods, you feel amazing” he groaned, moving his head to the nape of your neck “can I move?” he groaned, as your walls wrapped around him.

Nodding, “yes” you breathed. And wasting no time he began to slowly pump in and out of you.

You moaned as he thrusted into you, your hips moving to meet his as he picked up the pace.

He groaned at the feel of you moving against him, has hands gripping your waist as he started to thrust into you faster, he soon found that sweet spot inside you, that quickly turned you into a moaning mess. And soon you were wrapping your arms around him, clawing at his back as you felt your peak it washes over you and the feel if his seed filling you.

Your breath was heavy, his even heavier as he lay on you, his face still in your neck leaving soft kisses as he started to move of you slightly.

“marry me” he said, giving you soft kisses between his words. “this place is filled with septon’s it will be easy to find one to marry us.”

“okay” you said, looking into his yes.

“okay?”

You laughed, “yes, Gwyane I will marry you.”

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[dmagedgoods]

Owlcatober day 3: Shelter

(story by me, art by @chaosteddybear)

~

He grit his teeth and stopped himself from shaking, determined not to show any weakness. The snow fell more densely now. It had become a swirling veil of white in the dim red shine of the night, swallowing the world outside of their cave. Their found shelter stopped the storm from reaching them, the cold, however, started to sneak in, to surround them mercilessly in the dying glow of the small fire they had lighted and the absence of almost any suited equipment after the accident.

“Here.”

He turned his head towards the offered bundle of fabrics, the only dry blanket left. It was woven with a hint of magic to defend from conditions as unpleasant as these and promised some true protection and warmth.

Salvadore felt an inexplicable anger at the considerate gesture, only serving to remind him of his helplessness and failure and how it was his fault that they had to abort the mission to find their way back in the morning.

“Keep it,” he decided, voice firm. He felt a strange mixture of discontentment and relief that Mesclavete seemed to handle the cold slightly better than he did. Or was he merely pretending too?

Mesclavete ignored his answer and put the blanket around his shoulders. “You’re freezing”

Was it that obvious? Immediately, his body wanted to sink deeper into the shielding warmth, but instead, he managed to glare at the other man with a threatening gaze.

Again, he was utterly ignored. His eyes followed his co-commander when he turned back and tried to get comfortable on the ground pad they had saved – not too much to fall asleep in the cold, but to rest his sour muscles for a while before the complicated climb ahead of them.

Salvadore knew him well enough to be under no illusion that he would stay stubborn and reject to take the blanket back and therefore … Well.

He took it off, left his place at the wall of the crave and joined Mesclavete on the pad. Without waiting for his consent – or his complaints – he moved close, put one arm around his body, and spread the blanket across both of them.

Salvadore felt him tense up against him.

“I don’t believe …”

“It’s the most effective solution,” he interrupted him – and with this his own thoughts trying to tell him that his idea was inappropriate in every single way, even if or especially since his body reacted with a heavy shiver of pleasure to the sudden warmth and more so to the feeling of Mesclavete being pressed tightly against his own.

“We will need all our strength tomorrow.” The way out of this valley would not be easy.

Mesclavete hummed in agreement; he didn’t protest, neither against his words nor against the enforced closeness.

[beloveds-embrace]

╰┈➤ A Harbinger’s Claim

Spoilers for 5.1 Archon Quest, yandere capitano x reader

yan!capi x soldier!reader who used to idolize/adore him? 👀

Specifically, you used to be a black serpent knight who worked under him. From the very first day you met him, you could not help but admire him; such a strong, powerful man- worthy of being a commander, worthy of being loved and respected. Your crush on him, your own commander, had been visible to any and all that cared to look. And that included even him, as well. 

Though he never quite returned your feelings. all of your attempts at catching his attention fell flat. Your commander did not care for romance, and did not care for you beyond you being a knight under his command. Still, you persisted and tried your best again and again to earn his praise and affection- through always training, keeping spare food from your own rations for him, willing to do any and all tasks. 

And then, Khaenri'ah falls, and you get injured and cursed to a painful immortality. It's devastating, it's cruel and painful and you end up separating from your group, including your commander- never knowing what happens to him.  

Five hundred years pass in resentment and bitterness, then a bone-deep exhaustion and now... 

The wind howls over the desolate, forgotten battlefield, carrying with it memories of long-lost battles and fallen comrades. You stand among the remnants, staring at the tattered banner of a past era. The centuries have been cruel, not just to the land, but to you. You don't know why you came back here, yet you can't bring yourself to leave just yet. 

Your legs ache- a dull, persistent pain that has been your constant companion for centuries. The curse has worn you down, body and soul, until all that remains is a tired will to survive. You sigh and shift your weight, leaning heavily on the stone slab you were using to remain upright. There’s little left to fight for now. Just a hollow existence.

Then, you feel it- the heavy presence of someone behind you. It’s not the first time you’ve felt a presence like this, and for a brief moment, a flicker of recognition stirs in your chest. You turn slowly, your body heavy with exhaustion, and there he is. Once, he'd been your commander. Now, he is a Fatui Harbinger.

Capitano.

The man you once idolized, the commander you adored. But that was so long ago, so distant it feels like another lifetime. Now, the sight of him- tall, imposing, clad in the black armor- stirs nothing inside you but weariness. His mask is as dark and unreadable as the void, hiding every part of his face, giving no hint of the man beneath. The commander you knew is long gone, replaced by this Harbinger, cold and unrelenting. Even if certain traits still exist within him.

“You’ve come back,” you murmur, your voice barely louder than the wind.

His head tilts ever so slightly, the black mask making it impossible to see his eyes. Yet you can feel his gaze locked on you, weighing you down even more. Once, you would have given everything for such attention.

“I’ve come to claim you.” he replies, his voice deep and resonating from behind the mask. The sound of it is steady, almost indifferent, yet it carries an unsettling weight of finality. 

You don’t move, don’t resist. The fatigue that has plagued you for centuries sinks deeper into your bones. “Claim me?” you echo softly,  chuckling. “What’s left to claim, Capitano? There’s nothing here anymore. I hold no adoration for you anymore."

The mask remains still, impenetrable, yet his presence grows more suffocating as he steps closer. “You were always mine,” he says quiet yet resolute. “And you still are.”

You sigh, not out of fear, but of sheer exhaustion. The energy to fight him, to resist, just isn’t there anymore. “I’m not the same soldier I used to be, commander. That person’s long gone. You should leave me here, where I belong.”

But Capitano doesn’t leave. Instead, his gloved hand reaches out and grips your wrist, firm but not painful. You don’t pull away. You simply look at him, weary and resigned, watching as he brings out a ring, dark as his armor. You don’t ask why—your mind too clouded with fatigue to even care.

He slides the ring onto your finger, his voice low and steady. “This is your place, with me. You’ve wandered for too long.”

You look down at the ring. It's cold. “It’s been centuries, Capitano,” you say, your voice a whisper. “Do you really still think I belong to you?”

He pulls you closer, until you’re pressed against his chestplate, the harsh cold of his armor making you shiver. His masked face hovers above yours, unreadable, but his grip is firm, unyielding. “I never stopped thinking it,” he murmurs, voice deep and possessive. “You admired me once- more than anyone. That devotion is mine to keep.”

You don’t fight him. You can’t. The years have taken too much out of you. “That was a lifetime ago,” you sigh, resting your head lightly against his armor. “I’m not sure I even know who you are anymore.”

“Then I’ll remind you,” he says, his voice soft but filled with dark certainty. “You will stay with me. We will be wed, and you will never be alone again. Your suffering ends with me.”

For a moment, you close your eyes, letting the heavy weariness wash over you. Part of you wants to resist, to push him away. But the truth is, you’re tired- so tired. The centuries of pain and solitude have worn you down to the point where even the idea of fighting feels like too much. Capitano’s grip is cold, but it’s steady, and in that moment, you almost feel… relieved. You don’t want to admit it, but the thought of someone else taking control, of someone else carrying the weight you’ve been shouldering alone, is tempting. Especially if it's him.

“Is this really what you want?” you ask, though you already know his answer.

His arms tighten around you, drawing you in even closer. “It’s not just what I want,” he says, voice low. Unbending. “It’s what will be.”

He lifts you into his arms with ease, your body too tired to struggle, too worn to protest. You glance up at the dark mask once more, seeing nothing but the void where his face should be. And yet, for the first time in what feels like ages, you don’t feel completely alone.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“Snezhnaya,” he answers, his tone firm and absolute. “My home. Where you belong.”

You let out a soft sigh, leaning into his chest, your body going limp in his hold. “I’m too tired to fight you, Capitano. I don’t think I care anymore.”

His response is unwavering. “You won’t need to fight. You’ll be with me now. I’ll take care of you.”

As he begins to walk, each step echoing the finality of your fate, you close your eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion. The world around you fades, and all you can feel is his steady, unrelenting presence. The future, dark and uncertain, is no longer your burden to bear. So what if your freedom is to be taken away?

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” you murmur faintly.

“I do,” Capitano replies, his masked face tilting down toward you, his voice calm yet possessive. If he holds you any tighter, the claws of his armor would dig into your skin. “You’re mine. That is all you need.”

And as the cold winds of the battlefield sweep behind you, you let go of whatever fight you had left.

Part 2

[akutasoda]

“diamond tiara crushed in two, my heaven crashes down for you”

synopsis - you are a royal, they aren't. would it be such a crime for them to be someone more than a companion of yours?

includes - argenti, aventurine, boothill, sunday, reca

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, i have no clue what im doing, wc - 2.8k

a/n: ngl this only came about cause my fav artist dropped a new single... something else was inspired by that which idk if i want to work on that onrle rrr

argenti ★↷

↪argenti was once the commander of the knights that protected the region. well, he still was but now most of his time was spent beside you. as your very own personal knight.

↪it was agreed very widely that argenti was by far the best knight in the kingdom. so it was inevitable that he ended up in such a trusted position - and it was also safe to say that your safety was pretty much always guaranteed with him around.

↪naturally, he still held his title as the commander but spent most of his days by your side so normally he would put others in charge in his absence. although in honesty, argenti never minded.

↪argenti enjoyed his job as a knight, he liked helping people out and defending the kingdom he was proud to be part of. a part of him enjoyed the serenity of spending his days with you.

↪most of it tailoring to him following you around as you attended meetings and the occasional trips to the town. and even argenti had a bit more freedom as you always let him do what he wanted but even willingly, argenti would happily spend time with you.

– – –

you walked idly through the corridors, you had nothing to do as of late. bored out of your mind. your only real idea was to head out to the town and see if they had anything to satisfy your boredom, although to do so you thought it may be best to find argenti first.

you knew where to find him however. if you were going out you wanted him to accompany you, not just as your guard but as a companion - you didn't really need a guard in your opinion. but you quickly found the knight in the training grounds.

he was very dedicated to his training. it was always intriguing to you when you did catch him in action - in training or in a real life scenario. so you couldn't exactly help but take a seat nearby and watch as he trained.

you weren't trying to be creepy but it was interesting, and rather entrancing, so you watched. although you should've expected argenti to notice your presence as soon as you sat down. he huffed as he stopped swinging his ornate spear, stabilizing himself, he stopped and turned to you with a smile.

“is there something you need your highness?” argenti slowly walked closer to you and quickly noticed the flushed expression on your face at being caught.

you tried stammering out a response but quickly gave up and broke eye contact looking at the ground. argenti let out a small laugh, “if there's something you require of me, please do let me know”

eventually you managed to piece together a coherent sentence and explained how you wanted to go visit the town for a bit. argenti agreed, like he would ever not agree, and excused himself for a moment to get ready and don his armor.

argenti always loved when he got to accompany you anywhere. your presence was such a joy for him and a selfish part of him enjoyed knowing that he spent the most time with him - argenti knew you enjoyed his presence as well which always made his heart soar.

but he was merely your personal knight. he should be glad to be granted such a title, but when you take him by the hand and lead him to wherever you wanted with that smile on your face, he could convince himself that for a fleeting moment, you two were something more.

aventurine ★↷

↪a diplomatic representative of the stoneheart group who spent their time negotiating and delivering messages between various kingdoms. a neutral group who maintained positive relationships with all kingdoms to survive.

↪aventurine was always responsible for being sent to your kingdom, and so he would always make an appearance when your council met to discuss. a part of you was curious if he'd ever drop his position among the stonehearts to become a permanent member of your council.

↪he always had very valuable insights that always seemed to work towards bettering your kingdom as a whole rather than helping the relationship between the kingdom and the stonehearts. he also spent a decent amount of time rilling up your actual council members.

↪although, nowadays you noticed how he made more frequent visits to your kingdom, and specifically you. aventurine would occasionally come and find you just to drag you away from your duties and hang out - something you never actually minded, even if you should've..

– – –

aventurine walked through the lone halls of your residence, he found it almost laughable how easily the guards let him in, how much they trusted him. he could easily walk in with the wrong intentions and dismantle your kingdom from the inside out but you both knew he wouldn't. which was why he was here now.

bursting through your room's doors, you shot up from your paperwork before relaxing at the sight of the emissarie.

“hello to you too aventurine,” you briefly glanced over to your calendar “what are you doing here? seeing as we have no meetings…”

aventurine smiled as he sat himself on the corner of your desk “do i have to have a reason to see you?” he knew he didn't, he knew you'd always welcome his presence at any time.

“you know you don't want to be stuck here doing..” he looked at what was laid across your desk, making a vague shrugging motion “whatever that is, take a break! we can walk around for a bit!”

you knew you shouldn't listen to him, that he was a bad influence on you. but one look at your desk was enough to convince you that aventurine was right. you'd have even more work to do when you got back but who was going to tell you off? aventurine was definitely one of your best “advisors”.

he smiled when he watched you stand up and he followed suit, already talking about all the things that had happened since he last saw you (which was barely two days) and asking you about what you wanted to do.

suddenly your boring day filled with paperwork was actually going to be exciting, spent with someone you liked as more than one of your emissaries.

boothill ★↷

↪apart of a group of mercenaries known as the galaxy rangers. they take up whatever contract they agree with and pay the most of course. the “galaxy ranger” name is simply a convenient way of finding the best mercenaries in the regions - whether or not someone can get one to work for them is a different story.

↪boothill was once hired by a rivaling kingdom to bring down yours, he didn't exactly agree with his contractor but they did have rather deep pockets. that hesitation of his was what you used to save your kingdom. paying boothill more than what he had previously been offered.

↪and what better way to ensure your kingdom's safety than to constantly ensure boothill worked as a mercenary for your kingdom by paying him. it was a simple solution in your eyes and boothill wasn't going to complain.

↪although as time went on, boothill was seen less as a mercenary and more as a companion - seeing as you spent quite a bit of your free time talking with him and listening to his takes from traveling all over.

– – –

“so tell me again why i’m accompanying ya?” boothill poised as he watched you eye up some shop window displays

you hummed “because i gave argenti the day off for his hard work” turning to face him you continued, “and your nice company”

nice company huh? boothill would've never considered himself to be nice company for anyone but he wasn't going to argue your word. it wasn't entirely uncommon for you to drag him around the town when you were bored, always giving that same excuse or saying something along the lines of being blunt and just wanting to hang out.

boothill would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy this time with you. it was always peaceful, a nice respite from his daily activities - which admittedly became more calm themselves ever since you began paying him to be loyal to your kingdom.

even if you were to stop paying him, he reckoned that he would still never go against your kingdom. there was something about you that was enchanting to the mercenary, no wonder you were royalty. he could spend ages thinking about you, he had no clue why however.

boothill had no idea why he felt this way about you. you were just another stupid royal who was too big for their boots. and yet, he stuck around. he indulged in your conversations and requests, he genuinely enjoyed being around you and-

“say, why don't we stop for lunch on the way back?” your voice broke his chain of thought and that smile of yours practically rendered him entranced

“sure, your choice, your highness” and he reveled in your brightening smile that was caused by him, the one that made his knees weak and he couldn't care less about how you grabbed his hand and practically dragged him away.

sunday ★↷

↪the oh so prestigious high priest of the land. the one in charge of all the churches and so he had a spot on the royal council. not only as the main representative of the churches but also as an advisor.

↪he was a form of spokesperson for the people who confided their issues with him and some of his ideas had helped the kingdom greatly, so he definitely deserved a seat among your council

↪sunday was very reliable. he would always show up to meetings and always ensured that services within the church were planned and carried out to the nest they could be. a man devoted to fulfilling his role. although with how long you'd known him, he had a few flaws.

↪namely his “people problem”. not that he despised anyone but at times he could be quite uptight and rather condescending - namely when discussing with your other advisors which made for quite the trouble occasionally.

↪but you valued his advice and so he kept his position. although you also highly valued his companionship, something he would deny of but secretly indulge in your favoritism of him - like a bird preening in front of a mirror.

– – –

service had finished mere moments ago. sunday sighed and closed up his book as he kept an eye on the last couple stragglers exiting the sermon.

so he couldn't exactly miss the line figure that walked down the aisle to his position. in honesty, even if he did miss it then sunday would know it was you, after all you had developed the rather neglectful habit of visiting him after his services - neglectful as you were obviously shrugging away duties to be here.

his face resumed his stern look that he usually held before he addressed you “your highness, you know you mustn't be here”

but you both knew that even if he sounded annoyed he wasn't. you knew that he enjoyed your clear favoritism to the priest but he cared too much about appearances and positions to let it shine through, in your opinion.

“i don't think i do” you responded, sunday quickly picked up on that playful tone of yours, he knew what he was in for “would you mind enlightening me priest?”

oh aeons how he hated that dumb smile of yours. that stupidly pretty smile that made his heart skip a few beats. no, he couldn't let you break his act down so quickly, that would be embarrassing for him. so he collected himself and answered

“considering i enlightened you yesterday, i have no need to repeat. or is your memory that bad? if so i feel a trip to your healer is necessary then?” when he heard you grumble, he knew he'd managed to save his facade.

this wasn't exactly the first, or even the last, time that you slinked away to spend time with him when he had nothing going on. but you were the monarch. you had duties to attend to and so despite his true wishes of wanting this time with you, he always urged you to go back to your duties.

“fine then” you huffed “i'll be seeing you tomorrow then”

turning on your heel, you began leaving with a stumped sunday who was wracking his brain for any idea of what you meant behind you. but he couldn't think, so he had to ask

“what's tomorrow?” sunday hadn't got anything planned with you tomorrow, yes he had other things but nothing that you should've been aware of

you stopped in your tracks and turned around, feigning shock and hurt, you gasped “don't tell me you forgot! the meeting tomorrow?”

sunday paused, “but that's the day after, no? we agreed so at the last meet”

as soon as that smile of yours widened, it all clicked together in his head “oh it is? my.. well i already have a cleared schedule for that time.. wouldn't want to waste it?”

turning around again you continued, “so ill be seeing you at noon then” before walking away once more

sunday stood in confusion for a moment and before realizing fully and blurting out “you-” but you were already out of earshot, also missing the smile that crept onto his face.

reca ★↷

↪an infamous playwright who recently had taken residence in your kingdom. his plays were known far and wide by everyone, highly praised and honored. people always eagerly awaited even a whisper of what his new creation was.

↪and so naturally, you had become a patron of his. always sponsoring his plays as you were quite the fan yourself. whenever you saw that he had a new play that was being performed, you immediately cleared your schedule for that time and got your ticket - they were always in high demand.

↪reca was faltered that royalty such as yourself was so deeply invested in his writings and he greatly appreciated the sponsorship, it enabled his plays to reach greater heights. and so it was only natural that he started pandering some of his plays to you.

↪more based around subjects that he learnt you loved, your favorite troupes, anything you deemed intriguing and so on. of course, they all came out as hit plays but he knew they were slightly more special than just his average play.

– – –

reca stood from the sideline, hidden behind a deep maroon curtain, as his latest play came to an end. he watched as the actors he so desperately searched for took a bow as gifts were showered upon them for his characters he created for them.

but nowadays, he cared less about audience validation and more about a specific person - yes he still valued the opinion of anyone that saw his plays as that's what kept him going mostly but this play was special. he spent ages driving himself into sleep deprivation and stress trying to perfect it.

all because he tailored it for you.

his number one, and favorite, patron. he'd seen you take your seat and eagerly awaited your critique for his piece. reca wouldn't mind if you didn't pick up on the hints that it was tailored towards you, just as long as you enjoyed it. and his question was soon answered.

reca's ears perked up when he heard your voice call out to him. you shouldn't be backstage, but nobody would stop you. a confident smirk graced his face when you immediately starting rambling about specifics of his play, what you liked the most, how well it flowed etc etc.

he took your praise in strides, even more so when you poised him a question.

“oh! mr reca, you must tell me how you got inspiration for the main character!” you seemed so happy and so rene's smirked widened

“well if you must know your highness, it was about a special patron of mine” reca watched as your face twisted into something akin to confusion as you tried to figure out what that meant.

he nearly laughed when your expression portrayed a more shocked and embarrassed tone, you tried stammering out a sentence “so what about their lover-”

“well a writer must take some creative liberty, no? and one's subconscious might influence those decisions” he held back a laugh as your face flushed.

“your a tease mr reca” you huffed. and he only smiled back as you too let a smile creep onto your face.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[dmagedgoods]

This will never not be delightful, I snickered as much as the first time. Beautiful. Glorious. 😂❤️❤️❤️

Owlcatober Day 27: Portrait

Daeran, as pleased by Mix and Sal. A Lestat reference as well because of course.

Art by @dmagedgoods! 🤭 You capture Mix so well and I must specifically commend his nose in this one of course.

"I cannot imagine that he even attempted to capture your teasing smile, your casually elegant demeanor, or even the proper tone of your hair," Salvadore hummed quietly, appraising a bust sized portrait that he had commissioned of the three of them. He stood beside Daeran, with his arms crossed as he scrutinized the work that had been delivered that morning, just in time for the celebration. It had been intended to portray the three of them as seen through Salvadore's eyes.

"Nor did that wretched excuse for an artist make any successful attempt to capture my temptuous gaze," Daeran scoffed, as scandalized as Salvadore but more dramatic, as he always was, shaking his head in disapproval. He had spent so long curating the way he presented himself that he expected an accomplished artist to at least come close to capturing it.

Salvadore nodded along, the two of them riling each other up in their own ways, as they critiqued the comissioned portrait together.

"My wings. What has he done to them? That color could not pass for 'white' even without a single source of light to reveal their obvious yellow tint," Salvadore's voice raised slowly and steadily as his patience bled away just barely, only noticeable to a small group of people to which Daeran belonged. "What a waste."

Daeran glanced over, having noticed his tone shift a bit angrier than he had expected it to. A devious and chuffed demeanor took over the oracle's soft features as he held his gaze meaningfully on a fully distracted Salvadore.

"Then we are decided," his hand waved in the air with a sense of finality, as if to wash away the offending paint strokes with his fingers, "we shall have this pitiful thing hidden in the basement posthaste so that at least Mesclavete never sees it, the lucky bastard." Daeran smiled at his solution, considering the luck he had that Salvadore didn't like the results either, as he really hated how he looked.

Salvadore's chin cocked and his eyebrow raised as he considered the option, still scrutinizing the portrait, as if consuming it as fuel - angry, demanding more somehow. Then both of them startled, interrupted -

"Why would you ever want to do that?"

The casually curious voice came from behind them as Mix approached slowly, his footsteps so light that neither of them noticed him until too late. But it was he who quickly noted the disappointment in the small room.

Salvadore's face flashed disdain and embarrassment, as if he had been caught red handed, his normally cool exterior under threat for a brief moment. The shame of his own failure to commission a perfect portrait already haunting him. A quiet sigh of exasperation escaped his lips as any hope of Daeran's solution faded away, bringing back his frustration, just as he was ready to enact the plan.

"Just look at it, Mes. This is the portrait I commissioned for you, for our home." Daeran rolled his eyes as Salvadore explained his vision. "Imagine traveling for months to visit us, only to be met with mediocre 'art' such as this on our walls. We look like mannequins. We owe our guests a much higher standard." The two knew that whenever Salvadore shortened their names, he was losing himself. The man turned and grabbed one of each of their hands, holding them together before himself. "And I owe *you* better," Salvadore added, in his calm words.

"I couldn't begin to guess what has gotten into our artists as of late. It's as if Sosiel's ridiculous Family Friendly Artists of The Wound club has distracted them from their true work - serving *us*." Mix couldn't help but chuckle at Daeran's commentary. It was true. Sosiel might be a wonderful artist himself, but he wasn't anything of an artistic mentor, and Mix and Daeran would never forgive him for refusing to draw the beautiful Aasimar in the nude.

Then Mix drew his attention back to his goal, sighed, and tried not to roll his eyes visibly. He had planned to retrieve his two snooty lovers for a romantic stroll, but resigned quickly that solving this issue took precedence.

He walked forward and drew a decorative dagger, fittingly dramatic for this act, and cut the painting out from the frame. The other two watched in horror as Mix collapsed the canvas between his palms then leaned in and took a bite out of it. Chewing the piece of painted canvas dramatically, he ripped the rest of it to shreds and, by the time he was finished, Daeran had a mischievous smile on his face and Salvadore's eyebrows were raised, exposing a sparkle in his eye. His solution much more dramatic than the one the other two had planned to enact.

Mix smiled, pleased with the results, and swallowed. They both looked so beautiful with little sparks of relief in their faces. Daeran even chuckled, bringing a smile to the faces of the other two as well. Mix loved solving problems for them.

His back now against the defaced frame, Mix gasped in feigned scandal when Sal then Daeran grabbed each other's hands and stepped closer to Mix. The nerves in his neck ignited as Daeran's lips landed on it, savoring the taste of him indulgently, sucking and pulling on his skin, teeth almost tearing at his flesh but not breaking skin. He was ot gentle

"You taste like paint, Mescalvete," Salvadore's quiet purr carried admiration as his lips enunciated against Mix's, having not pulled away after kissing him once, chastely. Sal's brow now feigned disapproval before he grabbed Mix's nape, pulling his head back and bending his neck. Simultaneously, Daeran pulled Mix's hips closer to himself and took his turn with Mix's lips.

Mix's eyes closed as he enjoyed both of their affections, chuckling. His mind almost ready to call his sidequest a success as Salvadore began migrating from his lips to his clavicle, peppering kisses along the way. Mix had to say one last thing before letting out a moan of approval and relaxing his muscles, letting Daeran pin his shoulders to the wall.

"I know the perfect curator to help us find an artist for our style. I will send for her tomo-" Daeran and Salvadore bit down on either side of his neck at the same time, making his breath catch midword. They both smiled against his flesh in response, satisfied with repaying him for their startle earlier. Their fingers on Mix's stomach intertwined in each other as their unoccupied hands simultaneously pressed into the seam on his hips and slid it down.

[hawkepockets]

actually. 🫷😀🫸 THOUGHTS ON AVELINE

i think aveline is a CORE da2 character, and her relationship with hawke is super super interesting. she’s hawke’s oldest friend in the game & by act 3, maybe the only enduring connection to their homeland & childhood besides the mabari. her voice, her bearing, her stated values are all very noble & movingly fereldan—but her actions both as guard captain & as a party member should be so profoundly disappointing to hawke almost no matter how you play them, which generates a powerful tension. imo it’s really poignant and adds a lot to the game’s central tragedy.

because how can hawke cut her off! but look at how she behaves: ignoring the serial killing & sexual assault of isolated older women and elf girls, baiting the arishok, slut shaming isabela, condescending to merrill. but how can they cut her off? the question is a privilege and a torment!

in this way i think she strikingly complements gamlen. like no matter what gamlen does and says to you, your love interest, leandra, the surviving hawke twin—he’s family and the only way into kirkwall. hawke is not permitted to sever those ties. and no matter what aveline does and says to you and all the women in your party, she remains your oldest friend and the only way back to ferelden, emotionally.

both aveline & gamlen will maintain a warm relationship with hawke as long as hawke tolerates their picking on those in proximity to hawke—but if hawke pushes back with aggressive dialogue options, both will tone match and became sour and hostile. aveline can be really quite awful to a red hawke, and will throw them to the ground and beat them at 100% rivalry. so there’s kind of an underlying challenge in both of these characters: how much will hawke, as gang leader & player character, put up with when it’s not directed at them?

of course, for all the nostalgia that seems to occlude av’s wrongdoings in kirkwall, she’s not really a childhood friend of hawke’s. she was a grown woman when they met, lothering was lost, and the moment was pretty heated thanks to aveline’s hostile templar husband.

and yet hawke is no more reliable & objective in their treatment of the past than varric is. and aveline is what they have! she’s standing in for all of ferelden, all of the past before the blight!

and likewise hawke for her! hawke is the only one left in act 3 who remembers wesley! aveline is the only one who remembers the dead hawke twin!

and as reprehensible as some of her decisions are, aveline’s grief for wesley and her enmity toward the old corrupt guard captain are sympathetic and her voice is sexy and husky and beautiful enough that. well im sorry i just lost the plot for a minute. uh

there’s also the act 3 subplot of the templars trying to take over the city guard, which sets up aveline as the only thing standing between kirkwall’s mages & absolute templar authority in the city. it’s literally her or cullen at his most brainwashed & violent. (to cullen’s credit he also thought it was a bad idea. but i won’t give him so much credit that i believe he’d turn down the position if aveline was removed.) between a knight-commander and a hard place, a pro-mage hawke has to choose the hard place.

so both of my playthroughs i’ve felt like hawke’s friendship with her is at the very least strained, if not completely ruptured, but they have to back her. how much that feels like fucking sandpaper may vary from hawke to hawke.

ultimately i just think she brings a lot to the table. i don’t necessarily understand why she’d be anyone’s all time #1 favorite companion, but you know.

[slavicdelight]

The High Tower and the Dragon's Heir

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x male!Targ!reader

Summary: Lady Alicent Hightower was the closest friend of Princess Rhaenyra, yet she couldn't help but fall for her older brother, Y/N.

Warnings: none, following canon divergence

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Alicent Hightower gracefully strolled the corridors of the illustrious Red Keep, her morning lessons with her inseparable companion, Princess Rhaenyra, having just concluded. The echoes of footsteps accompanied her every stride as she made her way towards the luncheon appointment with her father, Ser Otto Hightower, the King's Hand. The castle bursted with vibrant activity—servants hurriedly carried out their duties, knights stood in vigilant postures, and nobles engaged in animated conversations, exchanging the latest court gossip.

As she ascended a majestic staircase, the voice of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Westerling, reached her ears. With a soft smile, Alicent reciprocated the courteous greeting. The anticipation of her father's chambers lingered in the air as she approached, each step echoing with the weight of her familial responsibilities.

However, the routine of her morning took an unexpected turn when, just before she reached the sanctum of her father, a sudden force collided with her, threatening to send her sprawling. A gasp escaped her lips, but before the cold stone floor could meet her, strong and reassuring hands prevented her from falling. These hands belonged to none other than Y/N Targaryen, the eldest son of the reigning monarch, King Viserys.

In that fleeting moment of unexpected encounter, the bustling ambiance of the Red Keep faded into the background. Alicent found herself lost in his gaze. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, and as Y/N steadied her with an effortless strength, Alicent's heart quickened, realizing that even in the most predictable corridors, destiny had an uncanny way of intertwining lives in an unexpected matter.

"Oh my, Lady Alicent. I'm so sorry; I didn't notice you," the young Prince expressed with a charming smile, nearly as enchanting as the prince himself. His gaze held a hypnotic quality that left Alicent momentarily flustered. Deep down, she possessed an immense fondness for him, but the fear of rejection and the potential repercussions from his younger sister stopped her from ever expressing them.

"No, my Prince. It was I who should've been more careful," Alicent nervously replied, her voice betraying a subtle hint of admiration. The unspoken tension between them lingered in the air. Her father's disapproval of the prince added a layer of complexity to the situation. Otto Hightower believed him to be the same as his uncle, Prince Daemon, hence the mutual hostility.

"Were you heading to your father, perhaps?" the prince inquired, his curiosity evident. Alicent hesitated, aware of the strained relationship between her father, Ser Otto Hightower, and the prince. Otto's opinions about Y/N's fitness for becoming king often clashed with the prince's aspirations.

"Yes, my prince," Alicent replied cautiously, choosing her words with care. The prince graciously took a step back, allowing her to continue her journey towards her father's chambers.

"Then do not let me stop you," he said with a small, understanding smile, his gaze lingering for a moment before gracefully descending the stairs, resuming his own path through the corridors of the Red Keep. That brief encounter, had left Lady Alicent soft in her knees.

Entering the Hand's chambers, Alicent immediately noticed her father seated at the table, a large variety of dishes laid out. She greeted him respectfully and took her place on the opposite side. "Alicent," he acknowledged with a nod, his eyes shining with a mix of sternness and affection. "How was your morning?" he inquired, motioning her to being eating.

"It was fine. I studied with the Princess the whole morning after breaking fast with her and Queen Aemma," Alicent replied, offering a light summary of her activities. The mention of encountering Prince Y/N on her way to her father's chambers prompted a subtle change in his demeanor. His brow lifted, and a stern look accompanied his response. "Prince Y/N is not a good influence. I advise you to avoid him," he coldly said, his voice carrying a weight of disapproval as Alicent cast her gaze downward. "Very well, father," she agreed, and the remainder of their lunch unfolded in a heavy silence.

As Alicent's thoughts drifted back to the violet-eyed prince, she couldn't comprehend her father's disdain for him. In her eyes, he was gallant and the epitome of a perfect prince. The unspoken tension between father and daughter lingered, leaving Alicent with a sense of conflict between her loyalty to her father and a growing curiosity about Y/N.

A fortnight later, the joyous occasion of a tournament took place in order to celebrate the King's anticipated new heir gripped the Red Keep. Nobles from far and wide were invited, marking the event as a grand affair. Queen Aemma, began her labours early in the morning, enduring the suffering alone, as King Viserys presided over the jousting festivities. Prince Daemon, displaying exceptional skills, unseated Alicent's brother Gwayne from his horse.

Victorious, the Prince then diverted his attention towards the stands where Alicent sat. With a charming smile, he asked for her favor, stating, "Lady Alicent, I'm sure your favor would ensure my victory today." Casting a fleeting glance at her father, Alicent handed Daemon her favor. Unbeknownst to her, a certain prince of the crown observed the exchange with a glare and a clenched jaw.

The joy of the tournament swiftly gave way to a somber hush when a messenger arrived bearing the tragic news of Queen Aemma's death. The atmosphere within the Red Keep became grim, mournful mood reigned for weeks. The funeral, held on a distant hill, marked a solemn occasion where the lifeless forms of the Queen and the young Prince lay upon the pyre, awaiting the embrace of dragonfire from Syrax and Shadowspine, the loyal companions of the Queen's surviving children.

Following the ceremony, Alicent found herself once again in her father's chambers, the weight of grief hanging heavily in the air. "How is Rhaenyra?" her father inquired, slight concern etched across his face. Alicent, her fingers idly picking at her fingers, replied, "She just lost her mother." The sorrow that lingered in her words mirrored the collective grief that shrouded the entire Keep.

Not being one to hide his ambitions, her father suggested, "Perhaps you would like to offer the King some comfort. Losing a wife is a terrible thing. He would surely rejoice in a visit." Alicent reluctantly agreed to undertake this solemn task, driven by her desire to please her father. As she turned to leave, she overheard her father's additional instruction, his voice low and laden with subtle implication—indicating that she should dress herself in one of her late mother's gowns.

Rather than heading to the King's chambers as initially intended, Alicent found herself standing before the doors that guarded Prince Y/N's residence. A guard announced her presence, and she entered, greeted by a scene of disarray. The room resembled the aftermath of a storm—furniture upended, decorations scattered in chaotic way. Amidst the disorder, she discovered her prince, seated on the floor, his back against the bed stand, his once-silky hair now tangled, and his eyes holding a haunted look. The scent of alcohol lingered in the air.

Taking a seat beside the prince, Alicent met his gaze, prompting him to question her presence with a strained voice, revealing the results of earlier screams. "I came here to see how you're holding up, my Prince," she replied calmly, her eyes scanning the wreckage around them. He only scoffed in response.

Drawing on her own experiences, Alicent shared, "When my own mother died, people looked at me with pity. I didn't want it. All I wanted was to hear they were sorry." Her empathetic words hung in the air, and she continued, "I'm so sorry for your loss, my Prince," concluding her condolences with a soft look, her eyes reflecting genuine compassion. Y/N stared at her in silence, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, as he began to unveil the weight of his heartache.

"My father's quest for a second son is to blame for this tragedy. He never considered me worthy of the throne," he confessed, his voice full of bitterness and sorrow. "He wished for another son, a better son. One he could put on the throne after himself. I was never enough. Rhaenyra wasn't enough. He killed my mother for a new heir. And now, my brother is also dead," he uttered.

Alicent's heart ached for him, the immensity of his suffering echoing through the confessions. Despite already bearing the responsibilities of being the Heir, this added layer of tragedy made the burden almost unbearable. In her earnest attempt to offer solace, she stood by both Y/N and Princess Rhaenyra, a pillar of support during these dark times.

As Y/N was officially declared Heir before the realm, Alicent stood steadfastly by his side, witnessing the unfolding of destiny. She remained present during the uncomfortable prospect of their father's remarriage, understanding the siblings hesitation. The more time they spent together, the threads of friendship between Alicent and Y/N began to intertwine with the delicate threads of love.

When the time came for the Prince to choose a wife, he declared his intent to marry Lady Alicent, much to Rhaenyra's dismay. While Viserys rejoiced in the prospect, Otto, though reluctantly, agreed to the union. Though not a fervent supporter of the Prince, Otto recognized the strategic significance—marrying his daughter to the future king ensured the placement of his bloodline on the throne.

The union of Alicent and Y/N was immortalized in what became known as the White Wedding. It was a testament to the pure and evident love that bound the newlyweds. The ceremony resonated with the harmonious union of two souls, their vows exchanged amidst the sacred walls of the Sept.

Shorty after their nuptials, the arrival of Aegon Targaryen marked a new chapter in the royal family. The beautiful boy, with the coloring of his father and the distinctive facial structure of his mother, embodied the perfect mix of the royal couple. Aegon, the newest Prince, became a living testament to the love that flourished within the Targaryen lineage.

As Alicent carried the weight of their second child, King Viserys sought to hold a celebratory hunt on his grandson Aegon's second name day. The relationships within the Targaryen family began to mend, albeit slowly, and the noticeable favoritism towards Rhaenyra, perhaps due to her resemblance to her late mother, didn't escape Y/N's notice. Despite the slight discomfort, he chose to focus on his growing family, diverting his attention away from the nuances of favoritism and concentrating on the joyous moments that bound them together.

The grand hunt orchestrated by King Viserys brought a sense of delight to Otto Hightower, who relished the opportunity for both entertainment and strategic alliances. The men, engaged in the pursuit of a White Hart—a symbolic creature representing royalty—set out with purpose, leaving the women to find solace within the safety of the camp.

As Alicent sat beside her husband, Y/N, who held their young son Aegon in his lap, an unexpected intrusion disrupted the peace inside the tent. Rhaenyra, the spirited Princess, burst in with determination, her grievances clear. Viserys, in his pursuit to secure her a suitable match, had orchestrated a connection with Jason Lannister, much to Rhaenyra's vocal displeasure. The fiery Princess asserted her autonomy, rejecting the notion of being treated as a prize to be sold to the highest bidder.

The repercussions of this confrontation left Alicent aware of the strain in her once-unbreakable bond with Rhaenyra. The princess, fueled by a desire to ascend to the throne, resented the twist of fate that seemingly diverted Y/N's affections toward Alicent, who had become the new Princess consort.

In the next years, Rhaenyra's fate took a turn as she was forced into a marriage with her cousin, Ser Laenor Velaryon, because of previous liaison with her uncle Daemon in a pleasure house that added further complexity to the situation. The marriage, arranged against her will, led to the birth of bastards, whom she attempted to pass as legitimate—a move not lost on the eyes of the court.

Despite Viserys's blindness, the court recognized the discrepancy in the children's Valyrian features. Whispers spread, hinting at a connection with Ser Harwing Strong, the Commander of the Gold Cloaks, who served closely under the Princess.

These choices made by Rhaenyra made Alicent bitter. The apparent disregard for duty exhibited by Rhaenyra, coupled with the ability to evade consequences, fueled Alicent's resentment. Yet, in the face of this, the legitimacy of the children born to Y/N and Alicent remained unquestionable. The unmistakable resemblance of each child to their father nullified any potential doubts that might have arisen.

As their children matured, distinct personalities emerged, painting a portrait of the Targaryen legacy. Aegon, the mischievous firstborn, delighted in playing pranks and causing mayhem within the castle. Despite occasional mischief, his loyalty to the family prevailed, a testament to the intricate balance of his character.

Helaena, their only daughter, embodied sweetness and warmth. Though closed off to many, she harbored a great heart, often murmuring riddles that, while dismissed by most, held significance to her parents who recognized her as a dreamer with visions of her own.

Aemond, a mirror image of his father, shared not only physical similarities but also akin personalities. The only distinction lay in Aemond's shyness. His passion for history forged a special bond with King Viserys, who favored the small Prince. Their shared love for learning brought them together in frequent discussions about the boy's recent discoveries.

The youngest, Daeron, charmed all who crossed his path, earning the title of the most popular son among their subjects. His charm and charisma propelled him to Oldtown, serving his mother's uncle as a cupbearer and squire.

Amidst the dynamic growth of their children, Y/N and Alicent's love stood resilient. Any hopes Rhaenyra harbored of a falling out between the couple were in vain; their bond, an indestructible force, continued to strengthen.

The visible strain within the ruling family had spilled beyond the walls of the Red Keep, earning them the titles of "blacks" and "reds" among the common folk and nobility alike. Y/N, recognizing the fractures within his family, attempted reconciliation with his younger sister, but Rhaenyra remained consumed by anger towards him for marrying another and harbored resentment for Alicent, his wife for being said woman. The rift seemed irreparable.

Despite the familial tensions, Y/N maintained a close involvement in the training of his sons, personally overseeing their progress with the assistance of Ser Criston Cole, who had shifted his allegiance from Rhaenyra to the royal family. Aegon and Aemond exhibited remarkable progress, overshadowing their cousins.

During a training session, as Ser Criston instructed the young princes, Y/N was reluctantly pulled away by the demands of his duties as the Heir. King Viserys, observing from the terrace, keenly followed the lesson. The knight, calling upon Aegon, challenged him to a sparring match and taunted, "Let's see if you can touch me. You and your brother." The confident Prince, Aegon, responded with a cocky assurance, "I've won my first bound, Ser Criston. My opponent sues for mercy."

Undeterred, Ser Criston introduced a new challenge, pitting both Aegon and Aemond against him. The two princes advanced, swords in hand, but the seasoned knight skillfully blocked each of their attacks, showcasing his experience and expertise. The training ground became a battleground of skills, the clash of steel echoing the intricate dynamics of power, loyalty, and the indomitable spirit of the Targaryen lineage.

The training ground, alive with the clang of swords and the shuffling of feet, fell into a momentary silence as Ser Harwin approached, offering instructions to the brown-haired princes. His voice redirected Ser Criston's attention toward the younger boys. "It seems like the younger boys could use your attention, Ser," Harwin remarked as he walked closer. A subtle tension hung in the air as Criston questioned, "Are you questioning my method of instruction?"

In response, Criston motioned for Aegon to face Jaecerys, declaring it an "eldest son against eldest son" spar. The white-haired Prince's age and strength became evident as he overpowered the younger Jaecerys. However, as Aegon advanced, he found himself roughly seized by the shoulder and pulled away by Ser Harwin. Aegon, outraged by the intervention, protested loudly, resulting in a reprimand from the King.

Tensions flared further when Criston began questioning the Commander of the Gold Cloaks's interest in the princes' training, suggesting affections that a man might harbor for his children. The insinuation proved too much for Ser Harwin, who snapped and attacked Criston. The incident led to Ser Harwin's banishment from King's Landing, and a few days later, he perished within the walls of Harrenhal along with his father.

More sorrowful news followed swiftly. A raven brought the grim information of Lady Laena Velaryon's death, casting a pall over King's Landing. The weight of Laena's death cast a somber shadow over Y/N, who had considered her another sister growing up. The entire family traveled to Driftmark to pay their respects, attending a funeral marred by Lord Vaemond's continuous accusations directed at Princess Rhaenyra and her bastard sons. Prince Daemon's laughter, strategically employed to deflect attention, added a layer of tension to the already heart-wrenching day.

Once the children retired for the night, Alicent found a moment to speak with her husband. In the quiet confines of their chamber, she gently inquired, "Are you alright, my love?" Y/N, standing by a window overlooking the view of Driftmark, confessed, "She was one of my closest friends, and she died alone. Without her family or friends, because Daemon denied her return. She didn't deserve such a fate."

Alicent, though not as intimately acquainted with Lady Laena, offered words of solace, acknowledging her bravery and kindness. Y/N, appreciating his wife's comforting presence, sighed and turned to look at her. "I'm sure you're right, darling," he said, caressing her face. In that moment, they found solace in each other's embrace, a comforting respite from the sorrow that permeated their hearts.

With a shared understanding, Y/N guided Alicent to bed, where they surrendered to the embrace of sleep, seeking refuge from the weariness that accompanied the emotional journey. Their intertwined forms, nestled in peaceful repose, reflected the enduring strength of their bond in the face of life's inevitable trials.

The tranquility that enveloped Y/N and Alicent was shattered abruptly when a maid, panic-stricken, banged on their door, delivering news of a grave accident involving their son. Swiftly dressing into presentable robes, they rushed towards the hall where their children were present. The sight that awaited them was horrifying—Aemond, their beloved son, was a bloody mess, missing an eye. Alicent's anguished scream pierced the air as she ran towards her injured child.

Demanding answers, Y/N interrogated the Knights, learning that the Prince had been mauled in a brawl with his cousins. The King, arriving on the scene, angrily questioned the guards for allowing such an incident. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys soon joined, but Y/N's attention shifted to the absence of Princess Rhaenyra. When she finally appeared, followed by Prince Daemon, their disheveled appearance hinted at a liaison that further fueled Y/N's anger. How could they disrespect Lady Laena's memory like this?

Amid the chaos, Rhaenyra declared the incident a "regrettable accident," but Alicent argued it was a planned attack. Rhaenyra defended her sons, claiming they were being attacked with vile insults against their legitimacy "Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned on where he heard such slanders". Y/N's anger flared; his sister intended to torture his gravely wounded son over a truth that was evident.

Rhaenyra's attempt to extract information from Prince Aemond, who had heard the alleged slanders, only heightened tensions. Y/N, protective of his son, forbade any harm to befell Aemond. As the King sought apologies and forgiveness, Alicent snapped, demanding justice and ordering the eye of Lucerys Velaryon to conduct it. Chaos ensued as Alicent, fueled by rage, advanced towards Rhaenyra with a knife. Y/N noticed his uncle making way to two women to undoubtedly aid Rhaenyra, which he couldn't let happen and stopped him before Daemon could reach her.

The struggle between Alicent and Rhaenyra unfolded, the room becoming a battleground of emotions and grievances. In the midst of the chaos, Aemond, now with one eye, offered comfort to his mother, stating "Don't mourn me mother. I might've lost an eye but I gained a dragon". Y/N joined the embrace, and as his father declared the matter over, the fractured family clung to the remnants of peace amidst the aftermath of pain and turmoil.

As the years unfolded, the Targaryen family found solace and unity in each other's company. Every meal became a cherished time for discussion, laughter, and shared moments, further strengthening the familial bonds that had weathered storms and emerged resilient.

Aegon and Helaena's marriage flourished, blessed with their two beautiful children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Aegon transformed into a caring and attentive husband, shedding his earlier tendencies to become the perfect Prince fit to one day ascend the throne. Aemond, despite the challenges posed by his limited vision, emerged as a formidable warrior under his father's tutelage. Determined not to be hindered by his condition, he trained with unparalleled dedication, surpassing many in skill and prowess.

Y/N and Alicent, beaming with pride, reveled in the achievements of their children. However, their joy was tempered by the somber responsibility that befell them. With King Viserys succumbing to sickness, he lay bedridden, casting a long shadow over the realm. The inevitable reality loomed—the time was approaching when a new monarch would ascend the throne.

Amidst the bittersweet echoes of Viserys's declining health, the Targaryen family stood united, ready to face the challenges that awaited them. The transition of power loomed on the horizon, and the legacy of House Targaryen stood at the threshold of a new chapter in the annals of Westeros.

The arrival of a raven bearing Ser Vaemond Velaryon's challenging petition for the Driftwood Throne thrust the Red Keep into a state of heightened anxiety. The assertion that Rhaenyra, Daemon, and their children would return to the heart of the realm brought a cloud of unease over the castle, especially given the recent mysterious death of Laenor Velaryon.

In the midst of the commotion, Alicent navigated through the corridors toward the King's chamber, where she knew Rhaenyra and Daemon would be discussing the pressing matter of King Viserys's condition. Upon entering, she greeted them with courtesy, acknowledging the lapse of time since their last encounter. Daemon responded with a nonchalant hum, while Rhaenyra inquired about the authority overseeing the trial of her son.

A new voice cut through the tension as Y/N entered, a smirk playing on his lips. He revealed himself as the authority presiding over the trial, promising a fair judgment even as he acknowledged the accusations thrown at his wife. The room held its breath, and Alicent, standing beside her husband, added, "We have pressing matters to attend to, but please, make yourself at home." With that, the married couple walked away, leaving the guests to navigate the looming trial and the shadows of familial discord that cast their pall over the Red Keep.

The throne room buzzed with tension as the petitions unfolded, each speaker presenting their case before Y/N, who sat on the throne in his father's stead. The weight of judgment rested heavily on his shoulders. Lord Vaemond Velaryon was the first to address the court, delivering a lengthy discourse on bloodlines and the survival of House Velaryon.

However, the proceedings took an unexpected turn when, during Rhaenyra's turn to present her defense, the door opened, and in walked King Viserys. Ready to defend his favorite child, the ailing monarch cast a shadow over the proceedings. The air thickened with anticipation as the confrontation unfolded.

In a swift and brutal turn of events, Vaemond found himself condemned for openly declaring the princess's sons as bastards. The throne room, once filled with the echoes of legal arguments, now bore witness to the irrevocable consequences of familial discord and political maneuvering. As the lifeblood of House Velaryon spilled in pursuit of power and legitimacy, the court faced the stark reality that the struggle for succession and survival could exact a heavy toll on those entangled in the webs of Westerosi politics.

The atmosphere in the dining hall was thick with tension, mirroring the strained relationships within the Targaryen family. Viserys, lying in his seat of honor, served as the symbolic divide between two estranged siblings, Rhaenyra and Y/N, as the air was charged with unspoken grievances.

Jace and Luke, Baela and Rhaena, each engaged in their own conversations, while Aegon and Helaena shared a tender moment, the Prince gently rubbing his wife's hand. Aemond and Daemon, ever vigilant, sat observing, their tension a reflection of the underlying conflicts.

As King Viserys was carried in, the room stood in a display of respect. The king began his speech, adressing his family. “It’s good to see you all together. My heart aches when I see the faces dearest to me so full of envy and drifting apart form each other. House of the Dragon must be united, so let us forget all and stay strong. If not for the realm, the for this old man, who loves you all dearly.“ But the damage had been done, and the fractures within the family ran too deep to be easily mended.

Rhaenyra's toast, seemingly a gesture of reconciliation, momentarily shifted the mood. Alicent responded gracefully, highlighting the common ground between them as mothers, but the facade of harmony was shattered by a seemingly innocent gesture—a pig brought before Prince Aemond, triggering memories of the Pink Dread incident.

Aemond's explosive reaction disrupted the fragile peace. The room fell into an uneasy silence as he stood, expressing a "final tribute" to the health of his nephews, ending the speech with an insult towards the boys calling them "Strong". Chaos erupted as the young princes clashed, and the adults scrambled to intervene. The disastrous dinner culminated in Princess Rhaenyra's decision to retreat to Dragonstone, leaving behind a shattered illusion of family unity. The scars of the past ran too deep, and the once-grand gesture of a family dinner had unraveled into a painful reminder of the irreparable divisions within House Targaryen.

The dimly lit corridors echoed with quiet footsteps as Y/N made his way to his father's chamber. Upon entering, a solemn atmosphere enveloped the room, and Y/N approached King Viserys. As he assisted the ailing monarch in preparing for sleep, Viserys muttered incoherent phrases, and amidst the confusion, Y/N discerned a recurring theme—Aegon's prophecy.

In the hushed moments of their interaction, the weight of impending succession hung in the air. Viserys, in his final moments, seemed to impart a significant task to his son, urging him to fulfill the prophecy. The murmurings faded as the night unfolded, and King Viserys the Peaceful drew his last breath.

As dawn approached, the realm awaited the news of a new leader who would step forward to succeed the late monarch. The corridors, once traversed by Y/N in anticipation, now held the echoes of transition and the uncertainty that accompanied the changing tides of leadership within House Targaryen.

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A/N: This one is slightly longer, but I couldn't help but give Alicent and her kids the husband and father they deserved. We all could agree that Viserys absolutely sucked in these roles. Thank you for all the support and it would mean the world to me if you checked out my other works ♡