#not pink enough tourney

[pinkhairswagtourney]

and the winner of the not-pink-enough tourney , with 439 votes , is ...

crona from soul eater !!!

thank you to everyone who participated in this tourney !! remember to keep an eye on the blog to stay updated with the preliminary rounds for the pink hair swag tourney: niche edition !!!

[heedeungism]

say yes to heaven (say yes to me). | teaser

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⭒ ice prince!sunghoon x fire princess!reader 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ⭒ the crown prince of the ice kingdom is not known for having objects of affection. perhaps the fiery princess of the fire kingdom is all that is needed to thaw his frozen heart. (route 1 of the eternal flame saga) 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒 ⭒ alcohol, cursing, the beginnings of a panic attack, dwagons 𝐄𝐒𝐓. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⭒ 10k> (teaser is 1k) 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒 ⭒ this is only a small snippet of a longform fic i’ve been working on since house of the dragon started up again, so obviously it’s inspired by that. however i did need to fix the whole incest = dragons so i made up this whole concept that, while obviously inspired by hotd, is incest free! i have other fics in this same universe outlined(hence the ‘route 1 of the eternal flame saga’), but i will be focusing most of my attention on this fic until it’s done!

masterlist. rules. request.

The House of Frost’s sigil is arguably one of the more simple of the Great Houses. A banner of pale blue, a white emblem of stark beauty, a dragon. Next to sigils of the other Kingdom’s, it appears as icy as one would imagine.

The Houses of Earth and Wind fly flags of more neutral colors, ivories and browns. The Water Dragon Kingdom’s a royal blue and Sky Dragon's a pale pink, but none so beautifully bright as his.

Yet, you see no sign of it as you sit at the head of the dining hall beside your brother.

Tourney’s you’ve attended usually start with a dinner the first day, then a melee or joust the second and third, a tour, maybe even a hunt if so desired by the king, or Prince Regent in this case. Your brother seems keen on being exceptionally annoying, booking your schedule for the week with barely enough time to bathe let alone avoid the eyes of the realm.

So, now, you sit at the large dinner, and realize you have yet to see the sigil you were so expecting.

Riki leans down at his station standing close behind you, “I imagine the Northern Sea is rather backed up this time of year.”

His jest does not impress you, “He could arrive on dragonback if he so cared.” As you finish your childish claim, the doors open.

“Prince Sunghoon of the House of Frost. Heir to his throne.”

Your sworn knight nearly snorts, as a tall male arrives. He has no company, only the sword at his hip as he prowls toward the table you sit.

Ten years had changed a lot. No longer did he have the sickly look about him, his skin even and his shoulders fuller with what you can only assume is muscle. He carries himself with a confidence you could never compare to princes like Yeonjun of the Earth Territories, who holds his head too high and carries too cocky of a smile for you to respect him outright, or Sunoo of the Sky Archipelagos in the west who’s bashful countenance somewhat underwhelmed you considering the story attached to his crowning.

Prince Sunghoon is sure of himself, you can see it in the slight sway of his shoulders and his wide gait, but he doesn’t carry that confidence with the arrogance you expected of the Prince of Crystal Snow.

He’s beautiful. Fuck.

“It appears he does care, your highness.”

Riki snickers as you quickly bite back, “Shut up.”

“Prince Sunghoon, I thought we were to expect your family on the morrow?” Your brother muses, and the prince bows at his waist in greeting.

“My mother, the queen, fell ill. I come alone.” He said, his voice is much deeper as well, though that’s to be expected.

“I wish her good health, then.” The Prince Regent wishes a genuine prayer. The ice prince bows his head, his gaze only moves to you when you speak.

“And your knight?”

Your brother kicks your foot under the table at your tone, yet the prince only offers a gentle smirk with another honest bow, “Ser Jaeyun arrives tomorrow. He found a ride on dragonback to be…unpleasant.”

Riki coughs, and you fight the tug at the corner of your mouth with a sip of wine, “Pity.”

“Is Ser Jaeyun to participate in tomorrow's celebrations?” Your brother asks, the joust, and the prince shakes his head.

“I would prefer, Your Grace, myself to participate,” His gaze flicks to yours, and an unyielding warmth plants its roots at the bottom of your spine, creeping up the longer his eyes keep you in their sights, “If you would allow it.”

Your brother seems all too pleased at the news, “I see no reason to object. What of you, Princess?”

Sipping the wine in your cups does nothing to ease the nerves of your heart, “By all means.”

He bows once again before a servant guides him to his table, where a visibly excited Prince Sunoo waves him over. The other princes gather at that table, mingling and laughing together.

While you sit at the grand dining table sipping from your cups like it’s life’s water, the dress you were put into squeezing your abdomen uncomfortably.

“I do hope we have enough sheep to keep the dragons fed.” Your brother muses, observing the table of dragonheirs before glancing your way.

“Most of them keep themselves fed,” You dismiss, “We shouldn’t deplete our people’s resources for an event this needless.”

“Your words wound me, sister.” He pouts, quite unbecoming of a Prince Regent.

“Then may you bathe in the salts of Azora.” The bite to your words makes your brother sigh, he startles slightly when you slam your goblet back onto the table beside your plate of picked-at food, “My cup is empty.”

A servant hastens forward to refill it, a shaky apology falling from her lips, which has you regretting your outburst immediately. When she moves to retreat back to her position hovering near the wall so as to not be seen, you grab the pitcher from her hands and say, “I’ll keep this, please.”

The word falling from your lips seems to surprise her, before she panics and bows, “Of course, my princess.”

Riki snickers as the servant hastens away to make herself useful elsewhere, biting his cheek when you hiss, “Shut. Up.”

When you face forward once again, your eyes scanning the room, your gaze is caught in another.

Smoldering flames meet biting frost, and a burning tug travels up your gut and into your throat. It’s pure instinct that tears your gaze away, an attempt to free your body of the dreadful feeling.

It lingers in your chest even as you take a hefty swallow from your cup.

I am dragonfire. You repeat to yourself, a rush in your veins. The wine makes your skin hot, and the corset around your torso only makes catching your breath all the more difficult. The litany does not quell the flames in your chest.

I am dragonfire. I am the flame's heart. I am unburnt and I am the Princess of Eternal Flame.

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

[handsome-wise-strong]

Jacelaena headcanons please ❤

This is a million years late, I’m so sorry! But ask and you shall (eventually) receive!

Helaena is a head taller than Jace. As children, Jace always hoped he would grow taller than her, but as an adult? He’s obsessed with their height difference. He loves when her chin dips and her eyes lower to meet his as he beams up at her, just absolutely stunned by the tall goddess. Even better when she dips down for a kiss, and his neck cranes up to meet her.

Jace brings Helaena out of her shell. She is always quicker to laugh when he is around. She is more likely to enjoy a dance, if Jace is her partner. He makes her more adventurous and more free. Meanwhile Helaena calms Jace, softening his heart and cooling his temper. They better each other!

Helaena rarely calls him by his name. She instead uses a flare of dramatic titles for him. Valiant prince and dragon-heart being among her favorites. Jace wishes he had the nerve to call her pretty names, like flower or darling, but he simply can’t call her anything but Hel, in the softest and fondest voice in the world.

Jace always shows off at tourneys, but especially if Helaena is in attendance. He asks for her favor without fail, and she never denies him. If he wins, he is sure to crown her the queen of love and beauty.

Jacaerys is a man of honor. He desires nothing more than to wed Helaena and rule alongside her. But because of his code of honor, he feels a deep need to have a good relationship with her family. He craves their approval of the match, even if Helaena insists it doesn’t matter. He tries everything in his power to get Alicent to like him or at least respect him. He knows that Helaena’s brothers are pretty much a lost cause, especially Aemond, but he never gives up on trying to win Alicent’s favor, even after he and Helaena marry.

Both Helaena and Jace struggle with High Valyrian. It is a point of bonding for them, both being slow learners of the language. They help each other and study together often, finding lessons more bearable if they’re working together.

After they wed, they both decide they want many children. Jace hopes for them to look like Hel, with her soft round face and wavy silver hair, but Hel hopes for the opposite, wishing for them to have their father’s dark unruly curls and warm brown eyes.

Jacaerys prefers dressing lavishly, while Helaena likes to keep her outfits simple. Jace often wears full Targaryen regalia, his tunics and cloaks made of fine silk or velvet, with the added addition of many silver and gold accents such as rings and brooches. Helaena prefers comfortable and light dresses, usually in pale pinks, blues and yellows.

Jace has always been uncomfortable around insects, but in an attempt to bond with Helaena, he tries to loosen up and relax around them. This backfires often, when he confidently picks up an unfamiliar insect to show off to her, and is bitten immediately. She appreciates the effort nonetheless, and explains to him how to properly handle insects as a maester tends to his bug bites.

Jace is fascinated by her dragon dreams. He writes down every riddle she says, often reading them over and over to try to unravel the words to find their true meaning. He is always careful to never push her on explaining them, knowing it’s best to leave her be and distract her with something else once she’s done speaking of them.

They both think they’re not good enough to be with the other. They’re always trying to better themselves for one another. Always trying to be someone worthy of ruling with the other, and loving the other. It takes a long time for them to realize the other feels the same way they do, and they have a long talk, reassuring each other that they’re both good enough. When they both realize they love each other unconditionally, just as they are, their union becomes stronger and more devoted than ever.

And lastly, Jacaerys and Helaena have a long, happy, peaceful and prosperous reign together. They live long lives and are surrounded by loved ones when they pass away, and countless poems and songs live on, telling the tale of the dragon king and the gentle queen, and the remarkable and deep love they had for one another.

[celtigxr]

The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. v: Aegon's Doom

Chapter Summary: Aegon faces the consequences of his actions, and Valeana is caught in the crossfire.

Word Count: 3172

Sneak Peak: She furrowed her brow, “You wouldn’t dare.” “Oh, sweetling, if I’m going down, I’m taking you down with me.”

Warnings: MDNI, 18+. A little smut. A little yandere.

T H E   R E D S

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Three days and three nights passed since they had arrived at King’s Landing. It was almost like they had never left; their routine seemed to pick up exactly where it left off. Their mornings were spent in their solar, their afternoons were spent with Helaena and Alicent, and their evenings were spent as a family. They would embroider, they would gossip, they would talk of weather and of new trends. Valeana found herself in moments of recognition, as if she had lived those moments thousands of times.

“You’ve become a master of your craft, Lady Valeana,” Queen Alicent had said as she walked around her chair to watch her embroider. “You’ve done things with thread I never thought possible.”

“You flatter me, your Grace,” Valeana smiled over her shoulder, and returned to her work. It was nothing unique, nothing new; a dark purple flower that stared at her every day for the last three days when she sat down in the gardens in the exact same place, under the stone rotunda. She had a pot of ink beside her where she would dip the thread to darken in places where shadows were necessary. 

It was just the two of them there at the moment. Helaena had left to follow a butterfly that flew by, and Shyla had spotted Aegon passing by the balconies that looked over the gardens. She excused herself and hasn't been heard of since. As for her stepmother and stepsister, they were walking through the garden, likely talking of matters that would bore Valeana. 

“I heard you’re now a dressmaker,” Alicent moved around her chair and settled in her own. “I suspect there will be many balls in the following weeks, more than enough opportunities to show your skills.”

Val gave a small smile, “I made a few, but not all. If I made something new for every event, your Grace, I would never leave my quarters.”

“Hm, that is true. And I’d imagine your sisters would demand gowns of their own as well.”

Pale-haired girl gave a humourless laugh, “Oh, they already have, before we even set foot in King’s Landing. But I am not a slave, and so they must suffer with whatever seamstress mother pays for.” 

“Would it trouble you terribly if I asked you to make me a dress?”

Valeana stilled as she looked up with a stunned expression, “A-a dress? I-Of course! It would be an honour, your Grace!”

Alicent’s smile was gentle and maternal, her hand reaching out and placing it on Val’s forearm, “You are a treasure, my dear.”

“What kind of dress would you like?”

“A fortnight after the Tourney takes place, I am hosting a grand ball here in the Keep. The theme is creatures, beasts, animals, where people shall dress up as anything they choose, be it plain, magical or mythical.”

“Intriguing… My mind is already reeling at the possibilities.”

“I’m glad you approve. I suspect my husband and children will be dressed as dragons.”

“Naturally.”

“I know I am not a Targaryen, but I do not wish to appear an outlier with my own family.”

Valeana smiled gently and gave her a nod, “A dress for a dragon, then.” 

She nodded, “Exactly. A green one; I am still a Hightower.”

The younger girl couldn’t help but chuckle, “Of course, your Grace. I already have some ideas in mind. When do you want to begin?”

“We have time, of course, so when you are ready. I would like to see your ideas, and then we can browse fabrics.”

“I look forward to it, my Queen.”

This was possibly the longest conversation that Val has had with Alicent, she realized. Even as children, it was nothing but small talk, or they’d exchange words when they sat with Helaena. She wasn’t entirely certain the Queen ever liked her, especially after the incident. Aemond got lashes for it, despite his mother begging for him to be spared from the punishment. If she directed any ire onto Valeana, she was unaware of it. Before it happened, Val was always in awe of the Queen’s effortless grace. Both her and Princess Rhaenyra held beauty that felt so ethereal and unreal to her. Valeana wished she could grow up to be as poise and dignified as the Queen Consort, and as tall and proud as the Crown Princess. Alas, she was short, stocky, and the weight of her insecurities were chained on her ankles.

Before an awkward silence could settle between them after the conclusion of their conversation, Alicent was quick to get into what she actually wished to talk to Valeana about. 

“I know… I know this is a sensitive subject, my dear, but…” Alicent’s teeth ran over her bottom lip, her eyes were casted down to her hand, still on Valeana’s forearm. “I heard about what was said during supper the other day.”

Valeana turned away, back at her forgotten embroidery, “Ah.”

“Helaena told me,” the Queen added, as if naming the innocent messenger would change anything. “I do not blame you for showing some animus towards Aemond because of what happened. However, I feel that I must defend my son… He was trying. He was trying to make amends with you, Valeana. I hope you can see it.”

The younger girl raised her shoulders as she took a sharp inhale to ground herself. Her eyes were staring steadily at the flower in front of her, her embroidery loop falling onto her lap. The Queen did not know what she asked of her. She did not know the gravity of pain her son inflicted on her. 

Alicent’s hand gripped her arm slightly tighter, and she continued. 

“Please forgive him, Valeana,” her eyes flickered down, and a shadow of a benign smile appeared on the corner of her lip. “I understand that a broken leg is nothing to bat an eye at, but you’ve healed; you walk again. The evidence of accidents past–”

“I lost my foot, your Grace,” Valeana exhaled, her eyes pinched closed as she held back the words she wished she wanted to say, but couldn’t. 

‘Would Aemond forgive Lucerys? Would you allow Rhaenyra to talk to Aemond the same way?’

At Val’s spoken words, Alicent froze, the ghost of her smile gone, and her eyes wide with confusion. 

“But– you’re walking. You stand—”

In a slow and languid movement, Val removed her arm from under the Queen’s hand, and pulled up her skirts, revealing her calf, covered in a stocking. With her other hand she leaned over and knocked on the wooden appendage. 

“My foot and part of my leg was turning black; it was decaying. They had to amputate it, lest it poison my blood and kill me,” Val swallowed and then unfurled her dress over it again. 

The Queen still stared down at Valeana’s skirts, her face ashen, eyes wide, and mouth slightly parted. She had not known… No one had told her. Valeana suspected not many people in Court knew, outside perhaps the Maesters.

“It was not just my leg he had broken, either, your Grace. Aemond betrayed me – or perhaps played me. I’m not sure which. Either way, I thought we were friends all our lives, and in the final seconds of our friendship he had called me a pig and pushed me. Your son had a place in my heart once, your Grace, but that has since been severed along with my leg.”

The silence was painful, it was stifling. For once the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was at a loss for words. Her eyes migrated to the stone floor, and her lips finally closed into a thin line. 

“I am–I am sorry–”

The lump in Valeana’s throat caused her to stand up immediately, “Would you please excuse me, your Grace. I have to– I must make water.”

Alicent looked away, lips shut as she nodded. 

And swiftly, Valeana left the gardens, leaving her embroidery forgotten on the floor where her feet stood. 

T H E  G R E E N S 

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Aegon had spent the better part of the day dodging Shyla Celtigar. The days before were much the same. At first, it was amusing; Aegon loved the attention, but then it got too much, too fast.

 Well, it might have been because he encouraged her. It began when she appeared at his solar door, holding a plate of pastries and the desire to speak alone. It escalated when Aegon got the grand idea to test how far Shyla’s affections would go, and his uncontrolled desire to get his dick wet. When it involved his pleasures, he would throw caution to the wind. 

It was post nut clarity that made him realize the gravity of the situation. She was on his lap, her fingers wrapped around his member, stroking him vigorously and eagerly, and speaking to him the entire time. He wasn’t paying attention, though. His eyes were shut, his nose pointing to the ceiling as he craned his neck back against the chair. Aegon’s mind was concentrating on pale hair, wide hips, green eyes, and a pair of perfect tits. 

“Oh, I cannot wait to have your children, my Prince.”

When the height of his orgasm left him, he opened his eyes to see Shyla (not her) staring at him. Her hands were coated in his seed, and she was looking at it as if she had discovered a precious gem in a stone.

Damn his cock. It so often replaced his head in the worst possible moments. When Aemond was out fending for his life against their nephews and cousins at Driftmark, Aegon had decided to ignore the screams and dragon’s roar he heard outside his window, because he was already balls deep in a serving wench he met at his aunt’s funeral. 

This was possibly much worse than that, because now he was the victim. There were nary a place for him to hide in the Red Keep where Shyla Celtigar couldn’t reach him. White cloaks betrayed his location after she batted her long lashes and asked in the sweetest voices, or a Maester or Septa who did not know better would point out the corner that he disappeared behind. Aemond, of course, was far too eager to help Shyla find Aegon, even so much as leading the girl right into the small kitchen he was hiding in. 

Fucking Aemond… A traitorous cur, that one. So eager to put his brother under the horse’s hooves when given the opportunity. If only he could crack his marble exterior…

At the moment, Aegon was hiding in a closet of some kind. It was narrow, cluttered with brooms, mops and buckets, and vaguely smelled of vinegar and soap. He heard the sound of swiftly approaching feet, but that was all. He had learned Shyla’s footsteps when they approached, and made note of the noises she would give. She always had her mouth open, and breathed through it loudly. Every once in a while she would talk to herself, or call out his name.

The steps that approached sounded feminine, at least. 

Aegon slowly pushed open the door, poking his head out to peer cautiously down the corridor one way, and then turned to look the other way. 

“Aegon?” Valeana stood behind him, frozen in place, looking at him incredulously. “What are you–”

Aegon had been startled to see her in an otherwise empty corridor, but then when he heard the pitter-patter of another approaching, he shushed her and clamped a hand over her mouth to listen closely. 

“Excuse me, Ser, but have you seen Prince Aegon?” Eyes turning into saucers and panic gripping his throat, Aegon yanked the confused Valeana into the closet with him, keeping his hand firmly over her mouth. Valeana struggled against his hold, curses vibrating against his palm. Aegon pushed his weight on her, eyes wide and pleading, and mouth hiss whispering to her to be quiet.

Shyla’s feet scurried by the door, the shadow of her form could be seen through the crack underneath.

“Aegon~” Shyla sang, “Where are you? Where are you, where are you, my love?”

Aegon looked over at Valeana. She raised an eyebrow at him.

As Shyla walked by the door, Aegon’s muscles relaxed. Her voice and footsteps could still be heard, but he felt safe enough to slowly pull down his hand from Val’s mouth. When he did, he was taken back by the smug look she had on. 

“So when’s the wedding?” 

He scowled, “Never, if the Gods are kind.”

“Did you tell her that?” Val crossed her arms, pushing herself up against the wall, as far away from his body as possible. Should anyone open the door, her virtue would be compromised. It would save her from a prolonged courtship with strangers, but she did not want to be chained to Aegon Targaryen, the self proclaimed dragoncock. 

“No,” the tips of his ears burned, “If I reject her, I fear she may castrate me.” 

“Oh, she’d make your cock explode like a sausage on a spit,” Valeana nodded casually, and Aegon stepped away from her in horror and disgust. “My brother had a steward once, Jon, I believe his name was. He rejected her advances quite harshly, and a sennight later, he disappeared.”

“Gods, your sister is a lunatic–”

“It is men who make her loony,” Val then sharply prodded the prince on the shoulder, “What did you do, Aegon?”

He rubbed his shoulder, “I didn’t do– Ow! Stop doing that, I am your prince, I can have your finger chopped off!”

“I already suffered at the expense of my leg at the hands of another Targaryen Prince, do you think I care if I lose a finger–” she jabbed him again, rougher this time. “Now, what in the Seven Hells did you do?”

She was going to jab again, but he swatted her hand away, “Mother’s Tits, alright, woman.” He tossed his hair back, and looked away from her. His adam's apple bobbed before he spoke, “I, uh, might have let her… Pet my dragon.”

Valeana squinted at him, “You let her touch Sunfyre?”

Aegon rolled his eyes and sunk his shoulders in exasperation, “No, I– let her pet my dragon.” He emphasized the words by gesturing towards his crotch. 

“Oh-Oh, Aegon! ‘The fuck is wrong with you!” She slapped him upside the head. 

“Stop hitting me!”

“I’ll hit you as much as you want, you vile, perverted–” they both ended up swatting each other for a few minutes before more footsteps interrupted their squabble.

“Sh! Sh! Sh!” Aegon put his finger to her lips, and they both froze as the heavy footsteps of a guard walked by the closet. Once it disappeared, Aegon pulled his hand away, and at the same time Val’s fist landed on his shoulder. 

“Ah, fuck, woman! Hitting a prince is treason!”

She pointed a finger at him, and he flinched, “You defiled my innocent sister, you deserve more!”

“Innocent?!” He scoffed, “She knew exactly what she was doing. She held my cock like an expert, your sister–” This time, Aegon caught her with his larger hand wrapped around her wrist. He gave her a warning glare, “Your sister took advantage of me.”

“Do you really think I am going to believe that bullshit?!” She twisted her arm, trying to pull it from his grasp, but his vice grip was much stronger than she’d imagined. “Let go of me, Aegon.” 

“I’ll let you go if you promise not to hit me.”

She calmed for a moment, sighing through her nose and closed her eyes. Aegon was nearly about to loosen his grip, but her other hand came out of nowhere and slapped him across the cheek. It did not nearly hurt as the punch, given it was not her dominant hand, but it was enough to turn his head and take him off guard. But before she could hit him again, he grabbed her other wrist with his free hand and pushed her against the wall, crossing her arms against her chest. 

“Your sister is mad,” Aegon stated while Val tried to push against him, but he put his entire weight on her. Standing a head taller than her, his form was a tower and she had no choice but to crane her neck up at him. The prince found he quite liked this angle, this position. “Do me the favour of diverting her attention away, and I will owe you.”

“I do not need any favour from you, Egg.” 

He smiled, grinned, bared his teeth. 

“Glad to see we’re on a pet-name basis now, my little crab cake. Y’know, this is quite the compromising position. If your sister  finds us like this, what do you think she’ll do… to you?”

She furrowed her brow, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, sweetling, if I’m going down, I’m taking you down with me.”

Valeana glared at him, resolute in her stubborn silence. Aegon didn’t waver his stare, but he did move his middle closer to hers until their stomachs were flushed against each other. Val’s face twisted and she tried to wiggle her arms free, but she was stuck between a wall and a dragon. 

“Do you hear that,” Aegon’s eyes lifted towards the door, “I think I hear her footsteps coming this way." 

“You’re bluffing.”

He grinned wider, then feigned a moan, “Oh~ my Lady V–” 

“Shhhhtttt—” Valeana hissed in a panic, waving her useless fingers under his grasp, “Fine! Fine! I’ll help you!”

Chuckling softly, Aegon pulled himself off, “That’s what I thought.” He tilted his head at her as she tried to collect herself. Her chest was heaving, and that was when he realized just how close he was to her chest. Her heavy, soft, peachy mounds… His tongue flicked out over his bottom lip. The Prince quickly ripped his eyes away from her before his cock could take control of his mind again. “Now–”

He was cut off by the distinct voice of Shyla, causing the two of them to catch each other’s panicked eye. 

“You say you heard it coming from here?” Shyla’s voice was just beyond the door. 

Aegon spun around, trying to find a place for them to hide in the closet, but there was nothing large enough for them to find cover. Except for…

 Aegon looked down at Valeana’s dress. 

“What are you–” She started to kick Aegon away from her, but he grabbed her leg as he crawled under her skirts. 

“Shut up! Don’t move, and stand still!”

Valeana had no choice, because the door was opening. She stood rigidly still, trying to take up as much space as possible to hide Aegon’s legs that were poking from underneath her dress from behind. Flushed and out of breath, Valeana attempted to appear casual in the servant’s closet when the door swung out and revealed the confused face of her sister. 

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad 

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[howyouloveyourdragon]

one of alicents Brothers don't love otto much and know he can only cause problems. both him and rhaenyra feeling dissatisfied with their fathers, they get married and ruin ottos plans one by one. in this situation I can not see the reader hightower son being the one otto wants near the throne cause he would not be able to easily manipulate them. Headcanons and thanks for writing

hey anon! thank you so much for this ask i was really looking forward to writing it <3 i am really loving alicent's y/n brother rn

pronouns: he/him warnings: none other than parental issues that i can think of but please correct me if i'm wrong! A/N: i could barely stop myself writing im so obsessed lmao, the amount of errors i got from this

you were never one to indulge in your father's ambition as he paraded you after another won tourney and beckoned your sister as though she were not a Queen now and much higher in position than he would ever be

you rolled your eyes and huffed, folding your broad arms across your chest

you roam your stubborn eyes across the room as Otto attempts to entertain his fellow Lords and more importantly, ask about their daughters

your eyes widened when they caught sight of your father approaching with Lord Borros Baratheon, you ducked and began crawling under a series of tables hurriedly and regardless of how ungentlemanly it may seem, you turn your head quickly straight after peeking over your shoulder only for it to meet something hard and a yelp to sound from in front of you

your lips part in surprise as a silver head of hair comes into view, a porcelain hand flying to her forehead. The woman groans and you recognise that familiar voice. "What is wrong with you?" Rhaenyra Targaryen uttered with a huff and met your dark eyes with hers of violet. Your mouth gaped before you felt a hard hit to your shoulder, your brows pinched together. "What was that for?" You asked with a guttural groan. Her steel gaze remained. "You hit me first!" She threw back in a childish hiss. You scoffed. "Mine was an accident." You retorted only for her to drive her lips into a thin line and slump on the floor. "If I find that I am concussed, I will have yor head." Rhaenyra grumbled and you begrudgingly settled. Her eyes shot to yours.

"Move. I was here first." "No." She lets out a gruff chuckle in shock. "Excuse me?" "No." Her eyes narrow into slits at your defiance. "I am your future Queen." "Sorry." Your murmured and flushed pink. You looked down bashfully and picked at your rough fingernails. You turned oblivious as her eyes rolled across you inquisitively. She hesitated but her lips open quicker than she can think–not that that is unusual. "You are Y/n, aren't you? Not Gwayne, his jaw is wider." You snickered and nod. Her lips twitched upward without her consent. She leans on her left hand and smiles charming as she can manage. "I suppose I can allow you a sliver of my company since you are clearly so desperate for it." She grins playfully at your protesting lips and the way your body stiffens at the familiar shoes beneath the table. Her brows raise and she almost gives up her own hiding just to see the look on your face if she pushed you into his sight. Soon the feet retreated however and a breath of relief propelled out of your throat. Rhaenyra watches you carefully. You intrigue her infuriatingly enough. She nudged you with her knee enough to catch your eyes. "Why are you hiding?" You asked curiously "I could ask you the same thing." Your princess teased. "Ah then who am I to deny my future Queen?" She hates how her stomach twists in knots at the title passing your lips. Her breath hitches. "My father is..." You struggle to find the word, using your hands to gesture uselessly. "domineering?" It sounds more like a question and she briefly wonders whether she knows your father better than yourself.

that's the first time she has ever had a full conversation–or possibly one at all–with you but Rhaenyra doesn't regret it as she notes the stiffness of your brow and your unexpectedly soft voice

she finds herself listening to you intently until the night is over

she even forgets you're both supposed to be hiding and laughs boldly which results in a share of wide eyes as two pairs of rough hands haul you both out from under the table

your fathers have never looked more disappointed as you glance sheepishly at one another

you both are sent to your respective chambers but before you leave, her soft hand shoves a piece of parchment in your hand and smirks as you stare after her

your father blocks your gaze when he wrenches a grip on your neck and drives you back to your quarters

you open your palm to find the crumpled paper has her scribbled handwriting 'Meet me in my chambers', you grow a grin and obey like the obedient subject your dear father wishes you to be

you decide to take unorthodox methods to do so however and climb up the walls to her window, clutching to vines and stones alike

she almost thinks you're never going to come before your tumbling inside

she snickers and beams as she brings you through and like clockwork the cycle repeats in secret and neither of you are particularly good at hiding the budding relationship between you

until the dreaded year that her mother passes

she had seemed so excited and humoured as you beat her uncle's arse into the ground, wielding a sword to his neck unless he chose to yield and the princess' forever favour strapped to you securely

you couldn't bite back the smirk until your eyes settled on the missing figures

her brows furrowed and her gaze followed yours

you still remember how her body tensed and panic became summoned to her face

how she had bolted away

and the moment you found out how slowly the hand had told the King? Without haste or worry regarding the Queen? That was when you pledged the deepest loyalty to Rhaenyra, bending the knee before she was even pronounced heir

and she pledged herself back to you in a much different manner

and when she is announced heir, it is not your father you stand beside but rather the Velaryons

and so with every visit to her chambers you share new promises and old vows

it is difficult to juggle the romantic affection for your princess and the friendship with your siblings but you manage

one night you approach your father's chambers to request permission to begin courting but instead you hear something much darker

the lump in your throat largens and when your sister bursts through the doors with trembling fingers, you don't take any time to embrace her

with every planned visit to the King, you take her to Rhaenyra's chambers instead and personally escort her on her travels

it's a dutiful side to you that Rhaenyra has never seen to you before, you had always been as rambunctious and rebellious as she and yet so kind and soft when it came to Alicent

the both of you smirk at Otto when Viserys announces his engagement, you personally delight in the clench of Otto's fists

you can't call him your father anymore

not after that

it's late at night with Alicent asleep and strewn across you both when you interlace your fingers with her own and grin at her

"If I didn't know any better, I would think we were the most intelligent in the realm." you snicker and she raises her brows playfully. "Oh?" she asks and you hum mischievously. You nod and look down at Alicent's gentle face. "I think we should put our team to it's limits." She glances at you sceptically and agrees

and so the first of many occurrences begins

the first he attempts without any remorse; separating you and The Realm's Delight

first by steering potential matches at you and when that fails, he suggests an alliance with House Velaryon after Viserys' rejection of Laena who you have grown fast friends with

he insists upon allowing Laenor to at least court the princess and the King agrees quickly and desperate to repair old wounds

so again you devise a plan to diverge her suitor's attention and lucky for you your old friend Laenor Velaryon is also not pleased with the possible arrangement

however she needs a chance to catch his eye and you have the perfect plan

Your gaze roams her face as you cup her cheek, both of you laying in bed. Her soft skin, her soft eyes, sloped nose and plush lips. "If you grace me by your mere presence alone I will lay every flower at your feet," You start and her breath hitches. "but if you agreed to wed me then I will fight against the swords of a thousand just to secure your heart and if you wish it, your crown."

it is early in the morn when Rhaenyra is rushed into the throne room and sees you knelt before her father with your head bowed

and that's when she hears it, eyes snapping to her father's face

"This man wishes for your hand in marriage." Viserys announces, standing and watching her carefully. Your gaze flickers up at her and softens. It's not long before she swallows her pride and takes slow steps forward. Her hands engulf yours without a second thought.

Otto notices of course as you pull away from him

he decides to direct your sister's place instead, he begins his second beginning conquest; taming Daemon Targaryen and producing a Targaryen heir

reluctantly and uncharacteristically he acts in favour to the request of Daemon annulling his marriage to Lady Rhea. He may hate the man but he needs protection and a male Targaryen heir

Rhaenyra is still a woman and he knows that there will always be an uprising, if he can manage to coax Alicent once more into a Targaryen's embrace he will be able to succeed the throne with Hightower blood

lucky for you, you have an ally who is very keen to assist you

it seems that Laena Velaryon has held affections for the prince from afar and is happy to snatch his attention herself

it's at the engagement banquet that she makes her move Otto can do nothing but grit his teeth as he watches and whispers into Alicent's ear but she's slowly beginning to resent him and slip out of his grasp

it's not long before the wedding is being planned and Otto is growing more and more desperate

then Viserys' wife is announced to be pregnant and much to his luck it's a boy

perhaps his own children will not listen to him but what of this child? he may not be Hightower blood but that doesn't mean he cannot commend his intelligent advisor and future hand

he just needs to sneak into the child's head and gain his favour

a mentor if you will

he attempts to sabotage the wedding by encouraging his spies to seek out you both but any rumours they begin to spread are instantly shut down and discredited

Rhaenyra begins to take a stronger interest in her siblings and Alicent surprises everyone by joining the faith of The Seven

she has newly devoted herself to the faith as a Septa, away from the cursed childbed and dreaded expectation of her father

Otto takes advantage of this yet again however and insists with the King that your wedding to Rhaenyra be in a ceremony in the Sept but you have other plans, sneaking through passageways with your closest comrades and performing an intimate Valyrian ceremony in the dead of night

you brandish your wounded palm proudly before the court and revel in their shocked faces and whisperings

Otto turns red in the face and even more once he sees little Aegon and Helaena peek out from behind Rhaenyra's traditional garments

and when the many years pass and Viserys the peaceful is sent to a new realm, Rhaenyra glides down the large throne room with you, deja vu coursing through the air as you stand beside the Velaryons beaming at her

[cambion-companion]

could you maybe write an aemond/wife reader fic where they are getting ready for a yule ball and going to it idk idk just a little thought love ur work <3

Hi my love, I wrote something similar, just the breakfast with the family the morning of Yule or Jōl as it was originally known as in Scandinavia :)

I'm writing this at 3 am because Aemond will not get out of my head like...bruh.

Word count: 600

Aemond x reader | Daeron and Aegon have fun | breakfast with the fam

You took a heavy swig of mulled wine, your mind still in a sleepy haze as you sat at the dining table with your family. It looked festive with glittering decorations upon the stone walls and the grand hearth hosted a cozy crackling fire.

Your eyes cut over to where your husband sat. Aemond looked quite as tired as you felt, though he gave you a sly smile when your gazes met. Heat rising to your cheeks you looked hastily away. You felt his hand rest upon your knee beneath the table.

"I know why I am so tired." Aegon observed the two of you over the brim of his crystal goblet. "What's your reason?"

Daeron watched you and Aemond with interest as well, clearly taking mental notes as always of what Aemond was about to say.

"We got little rest, Aegon." Aemond said shortly, hiding a secret smile as he too took a sip of wine.

The rest of the family had yet to arrive, so far it was just you, Aemond, Aegon and Daeron. Aegon seemed intent on capitalizing on this fact, he snorted into his cup. "So, it was a productive night then?"

Daeron looked confused a moment, his lilac eyes swiveling between the three of you before they widened slightly. "Oh."

"Yes, 'oh', dear brother." Aegon chuckled heartily as Aemond shared an annoyed look with you. "With luck you too will be able to arrive exhausted to the Yule breakfast with your lady."

"Aegon that's enough."

"Aemond, I swear to the Seven, you don't know how to have fun."

"Oh no, he does." You interjected, grinning behind your napkin as you delicately dabbed the corners of your wine-stained lips. "Of that rest assured."

You were pleased that your words seemed to leave the eldest prince speechless, a light pink dusting Aemond's high cheekbones as well. Daeron looked fascinated.

Your eyes found the dancing flames of the fireplace, though all you saw was the memories of the previous night. Aemond's arms wrapped around you, your mouth on his body, the taste of him, feeling him as he moved inside y-

With a jolt you were yanked back to reality as the double doors opened to admit the rest of the family. Helaena entered first with her children, Alicent, Otto and even Cole followed close behind.

"Happy Yule, my loves." Alicent beamed at everyone as they tucked themselves into the lavish feast as it was brought out by the servants. "I, for one, cannot wait for the tourney events this afternoon."

You glanced over at Aemond, meeting his violet eye and grinning at his displeased expression.

"Yes, Aemond. You're going to participate." Alicent was watching him as well.

Aemond gave her a nod, his hand on your knee clenched involuntarily and you giggled. He loathed tourneys.

Aegon looked uninterested, Helaena gave an excited little clap.

Daeron grinned at Aemond with obvious admiration. "I am to compete as well! Perhaps we shall even spar against each other!"

You nudged Aemond beneath the table and he spared a small smile for his younger brother. "That would make it more bearable, Daeron."

"Rhaenyra and her children are arriving this afternoon as well." Otto said. "The Velaryon boys will be competing in the sparring match today."

"They will present no challenge at all." Daeron piped up.

"You have not yet met them!" Alicent laughed at her youngest's confidence.

"Aemond told me everything I need to know!" Daeron puffed out his chest trying to sneak a drink of wine, but Alicent caught him with a glare.

"See what you've done?" You whispered to your husband, who was not bothering to hide his grin now as he looked fondly at Daeron.

"I do." Pride dripped from Aemond's voice as he leaned into you, placing a chaste kiss to your temple as you rolled your eyes. "I find myself not so put off by the tourney after all."

Gods help those Velaryon boys.

[frcvnds]

Audrey Rose HEADCANONS

- She loves the color pink but only in certain shades, and is very picky about what shades of pink she’ll wear or interact with in general

- For obvious reasons, she despises the color purple..

- Despite her last name, her favorite flowers aren’t roses, ironically, but peonies and petunias

- Growing up, her closest friends were Lonnie, Ben, and Jane

- When Audrey and Ben first met she didn’t like him romantically, since they were six at the time and she thought boys had cooties

- Audrey loved Ben as her boyfriend, but found more of a friendship and connection in his best friend, Chad Charming

- She used to have big birthday bashes and would invite all of her Auradon friends

- After she and Ben broke up she threw one, bought all the decorations herself, invited all her closest friends, but nobody showed up except for Chad. She was devastated

- Chad took her to his family’s castle that day to cheer her up so now she spends every birthday with him and his family

- Audrey love babysitting and loves little kids, particularly little girls. She loves taking them to her cottage, playing dress up or fairies and reading bedtime stories.

-Her favorite person to babysit is Chad’s little sister Chloe.

- She hates sushi. She doesn’t like smell of seafood, as it makes her stomach queasy, and she tried sushi one time, which caused some serious food poisoning and gave her a bad impression of it altogether.

- Audrey’s not a big sports fan. Her dad is, which is why Ben got along so well with her family, but she could never get herself to sit for hours and watch guys shove each other and toss around a ball.

-She enjoys tourney though, strangely enough, and is invested enough to learn the rules and concept of the game.

- For a long time she had night terrors of what happened to her mother happening to her. Her family told her the story of Sleeping Beauty and her grandmother in particular instilled that fear into her

- Audrey loves to cook.

-Her family, like most fairytale monarchies, are very traditional and taught her those “wifely” skills very early on, as she was arranged to be married to Prince Ben, and her grandmother insisted that no one would love her if she didn’t know how to cook and clean.

-That was not why Audrey loved cooking though. She enjoyed it because it gave her an outlet for being good at something outside of herself and was a way to share her joy with others

[billboard-hotties-tourney]

Syd Barrett (1946-2006) Pink Floyd - guitar and vocals; solo Songs: "Astronomy Domine," "Jugband Blues" Defeated Opponents: Rick Springfield, Peter Hammill, Carlos Santana, Geddy Lee Propaganda: see visual

Bruce Springsteen (1949-) solo; leader of the E Street Band Songs: "Born to Run," "Blinded by the Light" Defeated Opponents: Lindsey Buckingham, Rick Danko, Otis Redding, Cat Stevens/Yusuf Islam Propaganda: "Nobody has ever looked hotter than the Boss in the video for 'Dancing in the Dark' except maybe Bruce in the video for 'I'm On Fire'" "Bruce from the 70's to HIS 70's...enough said" "BRUUUUUCE! (Yes, I am from New Jersey.) But really 70s-Stone Pony-Asbury Park Springsteen is truly a sight to behold."

Visual Propaganda for Syd Barrett:

Visual Propaganda for Bruce Springsteen:

[gothgleek]

Modest Veiled Helaena based on this post by @dirtytransmasc

Details under the cut

- While Alicent consistently wears long veils, Heleana is more experimental with her veils. OP mentioned that the two bond by styling their veils so I can see her wearing a variety of styles and patterns. However, while they are different veils, they would match what Alicent would wear either through patterns, length, or color.

- This dress is something her mother would’ve picked out, if not straight up worn herself. The dress is based on medieval dresses but the sleeves are Italian Renaissance inspired. She would be able to changed the shape of her dress by adjusting the sleeves. I can see her playing with that or with her long fabric belt.

- Helaena’s dragon riding outfit. I would have preferred Heleana style it more like this on her day to day as it seems like it would ‘quiet the loud world.’ However, I didn’t want to risk accidental appropriation. This ‘hooded veil’ also works as a good attempt to keep her hair tidied while flying but is loose enough where it could become messy or lost as OP mentioned in the post. This dress is based on Alicent’s tourney dress with the crossed bodice and on Rhaenerya’s dragon riding outfit because of course. The dress matches Dreamfyre’s scales.

- This is a hairstyle I saw on the Borgias where they sort of braided some veils into the hairstyle and it is something I can see Heleana and Alicent trying to perfect before a gala of some sort. Alicent likes it when her Targaryen silver hair is visible as a clear sign of her Targaryen roots so it’s a good combination of both. Dreamfyre is embroidered on the split sleeve of her dress.

- Once again, the I needed to dedicate on work to the veils. I like this more than the one I made for Alicent. Not much else to say about this one really.

- This one I can see as more directly inspired by her mother but with pastels and apple green tones instead of Alicent’s deeper green shades.

- Another Dreamfyre blue gown with a shorter lace veil this time. She is a Princess so she’s showing ladies of the court other ways to style a veil as it sways more people onto the Green team or at least visibly support them. I see her taking a lot of inspiration from her dragon for her everyday style. Blue is also a good variation for her wardrobe so she isn’t wearing green every single day. The opaque, billowing sleeves are inspired by her mother. I wanted to include some insects on this dress but unfortunately butterflies were too Y2K and spiders didn’t match. I do see her having ant shaped buttons down the center of her dress.

- The last dress has her in Targaryen pink. Viserys has a lot of Valyrian pride so he would want a family event wearing their house colors. She would somewhat obey him by wearing pink. The hairstyle and the dress shape with green and gold accessories however are all inspired by her mother.

[vassia-sparta]

Daemon Soulmate AU - How the bond was discovered - Part 2

Here it is, the second part of my fic. I'm currently working on the last part, so stay tuned!

Part 1 here

Warning: Description of sexual situations, but barely, nothing explicit

The feast to celebrate the end of the tourney was proving to be quite spectacular. King Viserys had really gone overboard for his new wife, with so many delicious foods and the finest wines the kingdoms had to offer. Musicians with lovely voices sang all sorts of songs, and the guests danced to their heart’s delight, toasting to the health of the royal couple, wishing them many years of happy marriage, and for the Queen to give birth to many strong children.

You stood in a corner, sipping from your goblet, watching as everyone enjoyed the evening, while you sulked in your spot. Your father had tried to convince you to wear a magnificent black dress with yellow flowers embroidered on it, as a way of letting everyone know that you were to be a Baratheon soon, but you had put your foot down. It would be too scandalous to do such a thing when lord Borros had not even spoken of a betrothal yet, you argued, and thankfully enough your father had seen reason.

Instead, you had chosen a light pink silk dress with golden flowers embroidered all over the skirt and little white pearls stitched on the hem of the plunging neckline. It was almost indecent, but your father had insisted that it would attract lord Borros’s attention.

So far however, the Baratheon lord had spent most of the evening talking to some of the other lords, downing goblet after goblet of wine and laughing loudly at whatever jest one of them made. And now, as you watched, the man had actually fondled a serving maid when she placed a platter of roasted boar in front of him.

You sighed, looking away. You couldn’t imagine a future with this man, not a good one anyway. How were you to withstand your husband fondling the servants, spreading bastards all over the place, humiliating you again and again? You sent a prayer to the Gods to help save you from such a horrible fate.

They must not have heard you however, because the storm lord raised his gaze to you, giving you a dangerous smile before he excused himself from his friends and made his way to you.

“My lady, why do you stand here alone?” he asked, eyeing your bosom without even trying to be discreet.

“I like watching the dancers my lord, aren’t they mesmerizing?” you smiled politely at him.

“Perhaps we should join them then,” he offered his hand to you.

For a moment, you thought about declining, you even considered running as far away from him as possible, but of course you didn’t. You knew your father was watching you like a hawk, ready to reprimand you if you made a wrong move.

“Yes, perhaps we should,” you nodded, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, his palm going way too low for decency, but you knew you couldn’t say anything. Instead, you tried to distract your mind with small talk.

“So, have you been enjoying your stay at the capital my lord?” you asked him.

“Not so much, after that bastard Daemon kicked me off the tourney, I’ve been aching to return home, it’s so boring here in King’s Landing.”

“Well, perhaps in the next tourney you will defeat him,” you offered, not sure what else to say.

“Of course I will, I’ll crush that cunt’s face with my hammer, then spit on his dead body,” the storm lord grunted.

“My lord, perhaps you should not be saying such things, after all he is a prince of the royal family.”

“Why not? It is well known he is a trouble maker, I’ll be doing the King a favor if I kill him. They might even reward me for it,” the moron guffawed, his belly jiggling.

You didn’t say anything, hoping no one around you had heard him. It could be considered treason to speak like that, and his head would roll before he could stop his laughter. You decided to change topics, hoping that it would help with the flow of the conversation.

“What is Storm’s End like my lord? I’ve heard that its walls are so thick, no battering ram can hurt them and no catapult can send a stone over them.”

“That’s true, it’s impenetrable to any siege or attack. The last poor soul who tried lost his head. It’s still on a spike on the parapets. When you come visit, I’ll show it to you.”

You noticed that, with every turn, he would look down at your bosom, and lick his lips. That made you really uncomfortable, so you wracked your mind, trying to find something to keep his mind occupied.

“Is it true that the storms are huge, and that lots of ships have crashed on the bay below, so much that no lord has ever dared to leave their fleet there?”

“You certainly like those silly stories, don’t you?” lord Borros laughed, glancing at a serving maid passing by him. “Well,” he turned back to you, “you will have all the time to observe the great storms of my lands when we are wed.”

His statement took you aback.

“Wed? What are you talking about?” you asked him, eyes wide.

“Come now girl,” he scoffed, squeezing your body onto him. “We both know your father has instructed you to enchant me and make me ask for your hand. I don’t blame him, a man of an insignificant house from the Riverlands, of course he would want his daughter to marry a powerful and rich lord like me. Tell you what,” he leaned in to whisper to your ear, “come to my chambers tonight, and if you please me enough, I will give your father the betrothal he so desires.”

Words cannot describe the horror and disgust that flooded your body. You tried to disentangle yourself from his embrace, but to no avail. He was too strong for you.

“Don’t try to pretend you are a silly airheaded maiden,” the horrifying man smirked. “If you are good enough tonight, I will ask your father for your hand. But you should know that you cannot expect me to remain faithful to you throughout our marriage, you understand that, right?”

Anger filled your mind, and you glared at this sorry excuse of a man.

“Let me go,” you merely grunted, but this only seemed to amuse him further.

“Ah, you have some spunk in you, I like it. I shall enjoy taming you tonight.”

“I will not come to your chambers tonight, or any other night. Let me go, now,” you demanded, squirming in his embrace.

“If I let you go, you will be finished,” the arrogant bastard sneered at you. “One word from me, and everyone will know that you gave yourself to me, begging me to fuck you like the whore that you are.”

You were actually contemplating sticking your fingers right into his eyes and poke them out, when another voice interrupted you.

“Lord Borros, my brother wanted to have a word with you.”

You had no idea how he did it, but the moment you heard that slow purr of his, all your fear drained your body, and that strange warmth replaced it.

Lord Baratheon turned towards prince Daemon with annoyance, but nodded, finally releasing you from his grip. He did hold on to your hand though, giving it a sloppy kiss, gazing at you with a leer.

“I’ll be right back my lady, don’t you go wondering off now,” he whispered, winking at you before he let go and went to see what the King wanted to talk about.

Prince Daemon turned to you, offering his hand.

“Would you like to dance my lady?”

You knew that you shouldn’t accept his offer. If your father could see you, he’d be glaring at you, that was certain. And yet, you took the prince’s hand, allowing him to twirl you around with the music, his other hand slipping around your waist like it belonged there.

He didn’t say anything, he just kept staring at you, those violet eyes of his calling out to you like a moth to a flame. You felt the rest of the world around you fade away, as if it was just you and him in the room. You didn’t care about Lord Borros’s disgusting offer, about how he was so sure you were going to do as he asked, despite your refusal. You didn’t care about the gossip that was probably already flaring at the sight of you and the dragon prince dancing, especially after his little stunt at the tourney grounds earlier today. You didn’t care about the scolding you would most likely receive from your father once this dance was over. You only cared about the warm hand wrapped around your waist, the intense gaze of the rogue dragon stripping you bare, the sudden urge you had to lean up and kiss those pale pink lips of his.

That last one almost made you lose your footing. How could you be feeling this way?

As if he could read your thoughts, prince Daemon glanced at your lips, making your cheeks blush. You could only hope he’d think it was due to the constant dancing.

“My lady, are you alright? You seem to have lost your tongue,” he observed, that smirk of his infuriating you and, at the same time, making your stomach flutter.

“I have not lost it my prince, I just choose to not use it,” you shrugged, trying to act as if he didn’t affect you as much as he did. “You should try it sometime.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” his smirk widened, “I’ve been known to be quite talented with my tongue my lady. Not putting it to good use seems such a waste, don’t you think?”

You knew that his comment should infuriate you, but for some reason it didn’t. Strange images filled your mind.

Daemon’s face between your legs, his tongue tasting you, making you writhe in ecstasy.

This time, it was his strong grip on your waist that spared you from tripping over and falling on your face. You resumed you steps, your mind racing. Where had that scandalous thought come from?

The dance thankfully ended, and you curtsied quickly, thanking him for his time before you made your way to your seat. You emptied your goblet in one go, pouring another one right away before draining that one as well. You dared to look around, but you couldn’t find the dragon prince anywhere.

Just as well, you thought. Playing with fire was never a good idea; sooner or later, you were bound to get burned.

You spotted lord Borros looking around for someone, probably you, so quickly but discreetly you got up and hid behind one of the pillars, praying that he hadn’t seen you. Peaking just a bit, you saw that another lord had caught his attention, so you hurried to make your way out of the hall. You didn’t care if you got an earful from your father. You needed clean air.

You walked the empty corridors of the Red Keep, making sure not to cross paths with anyone, if only to avoid any unwanted questions. Finally, you found yourself in one of the many gardens the castle had. It was absolutely deserted, the perfect place to ease your thumping heart and get your mind in order.

You sat on one of the wooden benches, listening to the crickets and the owls singing their nightly song. It was so peaceful, so beautiful to finally be left at peace for a change. You could almost pretend you were somewhere far away from here, in a safe place where no one could disturb you. It seemed too good to be true.

A soft noise from somewhere behind you broke through your pleasant fantasy, bringing you crashing back into reality.

You turned around and saw prince Daemon leaning against one of the walls, watching you with interest.

“Can I help you my prince?” you asked, cursing your voice for wavering a bit.

“I saw you leave in a hurry and felt concerned about you,” he shrugged, toying with a vine creeping up the wall next to him. “Why did you run away my lady?”

“I just needed some fresh air, the atmosphere in there is a bit overwhelming,” you lied through your teeth, hoping you were convincing enough.

“Really?” the prince questioned, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps closer to you. “Because to me it looked like you were running for your life.”

“I assure you that your observation could not be further from the truth,” you shook your head. “I got a bit tired, and thought to change my scenery a bit before I returned to the festivities. In fact, I think I am well enough to return, if you’ll excuse me,” you started to make your way back to the hall, only for the prince to step in your path, making you stop abruptly, almost crashing into him.

“What did that oaf tell you that got you so angry?”

His question took you by surprise. Someone had indeed noticed your discomfort, but it was the worst possible person to do so.

“I…I don’t know what you are talking about,” you shook your head, looking away.

You felt a warm hand touching your chin, turning it so you came face to face with those damn violet eyes once more.

“When you danced with that brutish moron, you looked ready to tear him to pieces and feed him to the dogs. I could feel your anger, your desire to carve him up and leave him for the vultures. So,” the prince insisted, glancing fleetingly at your lips, “I’m asking you again. What did he say to you?”

You knew you should keep your mouth shut. Logic dictated that, even if you did tell him what lord Borros had asked of you, he of all people would not oppose to the idea. His reputation as a frequent customer of the city’s brothels was well known. How could a man who had not even honored his lady wife understand the predicament lord Borros had brought you into?

“He asked me to sleep with him tonight, and if I please him, he will ask for my hand tomorrow.”

You half-expected him to laugh, to congratulate the storm lord for his suggestion. Instead, white-hot fury flashed in his eyes, so sudden and intense that you could feel it yourself coursing through your body. His grip on your chin was still gentle, yet his posture stiffened, his breath coming out harsh.

“I’m going to geld him and send him to the Wall,” he growled, actually growled, and you swore you could feel the dragon in him, rearing his head, ready to spew out fire and turn his enemies into ashes.

He let you go and turned to head back to the hall. Purely out of instinct, you grabbed his arm, stopping him from taking any further steps.

“What are you going to do?” you asked, panic making you shake like a leaf.

“Exactly as I said,” he said, shaking his arm free of our grip.

You hurried after him, catching up with him just as he exited the gardens.

“You can’t do that!” you exclaimed.

“Why not?” the prince challenged, his eyes flashing as he half turned towards you.

“He is the lord of Storm’s End!”

“And I am a prince of the realm,” the rogue dragon sneered, his head raising with arrogance.

“But you have no reason to punish him.”

“He made improper comments to you, and he asked you to compromise your honor, that is more than enough reason.”

“And who is going to believe my word over his?” you almost shouted, your anger breaking through your calm demeanor.

That stopped the prince from taking any more steps. He turned to face you, confusion marring his handsome face.

“What do you mean?”

You sighed, this whole night taking its toll on you.

“I am a daughter of a small house from the Riverlands. You think the people would believe me, a woman from a place of no importance and with no significant allies, or the word of the man ruling over the Stormlands? My reputation will be ruined, and I will never be able to marry anyone of importance.”

“So that is what you care about, marrying into a rich and wealthy family?”

“No,” you shook you head, looking away. “If I had it my way, I’d marry for love. But I know that is not possible for the firstborn daughter of a noble house. We are doomed to marry as our fathers see fit.”

“So you will give yourself to him, knowing that he can just as well reject you once he is done with you?”

“What choice do I have?” you exclaimed, you fury unchecked now. “If I tell my father about this, he will surely push me to comply with that monster’s wishes. He is willing to sacrifice anything in his power to achieve his goals, including my honor. I don’t have anyone else to turn to, no relative will take me in and risk my father’s displeasure.”

“You can talk about this with the king, or Rhaenyra, she will most definitely help you,” the prince suggested.

“I think the princess has more important things to think about that a stranger girl whining about her bad luck in suitors. No,” you shook your head, determined, “this is my problem to deal with. No one is to get involved, and that includes you as well,” you pointed at the prince. “Whatever I decide, I will do so on my own.”

He walked up to you, his eyes intense, but somehow that didn’t scare you. It brought that strange warmth in you again.

“You are going to walk in there and tell that oaf that you will not be joining him in his rooms tonight, or any other night.”

He didn’t even ask, he actually ordered you. You laughed humorlessly.

“And what am I going to tell my father when he hears that I wasn’t able to achieve the task he set for me?”

His hand slithered up your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulled your face closer to his, your breaths mingling together. You knew, deep down, you should be afraid. You should be pulling free of him, running away from this dangerous man, but you still stood here before him, your heart beating so fast, you were certain he could hear it too.

The dragon prince’s lips touched yours, a feathery touch that jolted your entire being, shook you to your very core, but in the best way possible. You were certain you had died, or maybe you were in your bed, dreaming. There was no way this was actually happening to you. It felt too good to be true.

You closed your eyes, letting this amazing sensation wash you over, overwhelm you and take you with it. You felt a strong hand wrapping itself around your waist, and you realized Daemon was pulling you towards him, your bodies molding together, the perfect half finding its match in the other. You lifted your arms, locking them around his neck, pulling him even closer to you, if that was possible. His lips moved against yours, a soft moan echoing in the empty garden. You belatedly realized that it had come from you.

Both of Daemon’s arms wrapped around you as he continued kissing you, making sure you were unable to escape him, not that you’d ever do that. You’d rather die than leave his embrace.

His tongue caressed your lower lip, and you gasped, surprised at the new sensation. He took this opportunity and slipped his tongue in your mouth, and a whole new set of feelings attacked your senses. He tasted of wine, with a soft touch of strawberries, and something else that was probably his own taste. It didn’t matter; you loved it most of all, and couldn’t get enough of it. Your tongues danced their own dance, teasing, testing, exploring. Your whole body hummed with a need, you didn’t know exactly what, but you knew you needed it now.

You broke off a while later, only because you both needed to breathe. Daemon didn’t waste any time though. He attacked your lips anew, while lifting you off your feet and making a small turn. Your back felt the hard stone wall of the corridor as Daemon pushed you up against it. You could feel his battle hardened lean body pressing against your curves, the friction and pressure stocking on the fire burning low in your belly.

He tore his mouth from yours, making you whine in protest, but the whine soon turned into a moan as he started peppering your neck with soft kisses and bites, which he soothed with his tongue. You wrapped your hands around his torso, pulling him onto you, trying to get as close to him as you could with all the clothes separating you.

Daemon descended from your neck, nipping at the skin of your bosom, driving you mad with need.

“Daemon,” you gasped, lifting your chest, offering yourself to him.

He lifted his head to gaze at you, and you saw how wide his eyes were, the irises completely blown, that lovely shade of violet barely visible.

You attacked him like a wild animal, kissing him with a passion you had no idea you possessed.

You felt him groan, pushing his hips against yours as he kissed you deeply. You could feel his cock, hard as a steel rod, poking at you through his trousers, demanding your attention. You moaned, wanting more of it, you had no idea what, but you knew you wanted it, and you wanted it now.

He broke off the kiss, both of you standing still, breathing heavily. He lifted his head to look at you, and you could see the primal need, the hunger he had for you, a hunger you knew he could see in your eyes.

Before you could pull him for another kiss, a thunderous laughter echoed throughout the garden, breaking through your hazy mind, accompanied by a girlish giggle. You turned towards the location of the noise and saw lord Borros, clearly drunk, his arm around some girl’s waist, the two of them stumbling off towards the stairs that led to the guest rooms. Thankfully enough neither of them had noticed you.

“Looks like your intended found someone else to spend his night with,” Daemon whispered, his voice rougher than you remembered. It sent shivers down your spine, pleasant shivers.

“He could go to the Seven Hells for all I care,” you smirked at him, the hunger growing.

“And your father?”

“He can join the bastard in hell too,” you spat, anger filling you, but only for a little. The waves of passion were too strong to be calmed now.

“Good,” Daemon smirked, attacking your lips again.

You relished in the feeling of his lips, the way his hands roamed down your back, caressing your bottom before reaching the back of your thigh. He gripped your leg, pulling it up. You instinctively wrapped it around his waist, and he groaned once more as he pushed into you over your smallclothes, making you groan with pleasure.

More voices came from nearby, and Daemon cursed under his tongue, pulling back a bit, turning towards that direction.

“The feast must be almost over,” you gasped, trying to kiss him once more.

“Yes,” he grunted, still rocking into you, if only slightly, as he did it without thinking about it.

“Take me to your room,” you whispered, and even you were surprised at your forward nature. You really were asking him exactly what that moron Baratheon had asked of you.

He looked at you with those dark eyes of his, contemplating for a while before lowering his head in defeat.

“No.”

One small word, and the fire was drowned, as if he had dropped a bucket of ice water on your head.

You pulled away from him almost violently, not sure if you would attack him to kiss him once more, or poke his eyes out for making you feel so good, only to steal the feeling away with a single word.

You glared at him something fierce, fire licking at your veins. You didn’t say anything else, only took off to your chambers, ignoring his calls as you ran away.

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, cursing yourself for letting yourself fall in his trap. Now you knew why everyone warned women to stay away from him. He only wanted to use women for his own pleasure, he would never take them seriously.

You stared at the ceiling, trying to understand him. How could he be so full of passion and need the one minute, only to turn you down when you willingly offered yourself to him?

You decided to stay as far away from him as you could, and promised to double your efforts in winning lord Borros. He was the goal, the reason your father had brought you here. Tomorrow night, you’d go to his chambers, give yourself to him, marry him and make sure you never came across the Rogue Prince ever again.

--

Daemon didn’t get a wink of sleep after the feast, tossing and turning in his bed all night. He had not even considered going down to the Street of Silk to ease the discomfort his feisty lady had caused him. He knew that, no matter how many women he fucked, he would never be fully satisfied. Only she could, and he would never take her up on her offer. Those feelings she had awoken, whatever they were, they were too strong. So strong, they frightened him.

Daemon had never been afraid of anything. Not when he had been exiled, not even when he had gone to face the Crabfeeder all by himself. Fear was an alien emotion to him, and yet this woman frightened him with her offer, an offer he would have gladly accepted if it had been any other woman. He had slept with numerous women in his life, and each one had been good only for as long as he took his pleasure. He didn’t give them a second thought afterwards, moving on like nothing had happened.

But this one… She was different. It awoke strange thoughts in his mind, thoughts that he never expected to have for any woman. He didn’t want to have her just for one night. He wanted her forever, to have her beside him until the end of time. He could easily imagine himself with her, sitting in the garden she liked so much, their children around them, everyone so happy and content.

The image was so vivid, it shook him to his very core. Daemon never believed much in love. He had witnessed what it can do, how it can make a man lose the light from his eyes and become a shadow of his former self. After his mother had died 6 months after she gave birth to his little brother, his father had never been the same. The babe had followed her to the grave soon after, and his father aged a decade in just one year, barely able to smile for his two remaining sons.

He also remembered how Viserys was after he lost his Aemma. No, Daemon shook his head, love was a dangerous thing. He wanted no part of it.

And yet, he could not get her out of his mind. The feel of her body against his, the sounds she made when he kissed her, the warmth of her body when he pressed her against the wall…

He shook his head violently, trying to cast the thoughts away, but in vain. They tormented him all night, not letting him have even the slightest amount of sleep.

A little after dawn, he rose from his bed, got dressed and headed out to find his brother, the King. Maybe he would be able to help him figure out what was going on with him and why he could not stop thinking about her.

He found the King in his bedchamber, surrounded by the enormous stone model of the Valyrian Freehold. Viserys had been trying to carve a chimera out of a small piece of limestone, when Daemon entered.

His brother gazed up at him, smiling.

“This is a rare occurrence. What brings you to me brother?”

“I seem to be losing my mind,” Daemon replied, pacing back and forth, never staying in one place for long.

“What troubles you?” the king asked, concerned.

“I can’t get a woman out of my head. Everything I think about, everything I feel, they all lead back to her. I’m starting to think she has put a spell on me.”

The King rose from his seat, observing his brother closely for a few minutes, before bursting into hearty laughter.

Daemon glared at him, angry that his brother would choose such a difficult time to make fun of him.

“I fail to see what is so amusing to you brother, unless it is my anger and frustration that caused your mirth,” he spat, never ceasing his pacing.

Viserys approached his brother, his laughter diminishing to a mere chuckle. He patted his younger brother on the back, smiling fondly.

“Daemon, it seems you finally found the woman who holds your heart.”

Daemon pulled away from his brother’s grasp, looking away, hoping his eyes wouldn’t betray him.

“Don’t be absurd Viserys, how can I be in love with a woman I barely know?” he exclaimed.

“You don’t need to know her that well to fall in love with her brother,” Viserys shook his head. “If she is the one for you, then you only need a few moments with her to know that you are destined to be with her.”

Daemon huffed, heading towards a table nearby, filling a goblet with wine and downing it all in one go.

“Who is she?” the King asked.

Daemon ignored him, pouring more wine into the goblet.

“Come now brother, I know you did not come all the way here to keep silent on the matter. You came here to discuss this with your older brother, so sit down and start talking.”

Though Daemon wanted to refuse, he eventually sat down across from his brother, nursing his wine, scowling into the depths of the dark liquid.

“Ever since I saw her, I have been having all these feelings, strange emotions overwhelm me, it’s like I’m losing control of my body. How can I be feeling like this about a woman I don’t even know?”

The King smiled at his brother.

“This is what usually happens Daemon, when one meets the love of their life. That was how I felt when I first saw Aemma.”

Viserys’s gaze turned melancholic, memories of his late wife’s lovely face smiling at him coming in his mind.

“But it’s not just that,” Daemon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know that some say they know when their husband or wife are feeling sad or happy, but I swear to you, I can actually feel it. Last night, when she was dancing with that Baratheon cunt, I could feel her disgust, her anger at him.”

Viserys listened to what his brother said, watching him closely.

“What else have you observed about her?”

“I told you, it’s unnatural, entirely not possible, but I swear I can feel her, like she is a part of me. I can even tell you where she is right now, if I concentrate enough. I’m either losing my mind, or she has put a spell on me somehow.”

The King’s eyes widened, his mouth opening in surprise.

“Daemon, you’ve found your other half.”

The Rogue Prince rose from his seat, turning towards the open balcony doors.

“You are being absurd. Love is not a feeling I understand. Passion, yes, anger, sorrow, even happiness, I can feel those, but do not expect me to believe that I fell in love with her simply because I saw her a handful of times. I am attracted to her, but love is too big of a word for me.”

“No Daemon, you don’t understand,” the king rose from his seat and headed for his personal library in an alcove next to the bedchamber. Here he kept all the books that he loved the most, close by if he wished to indulge in some reading.

He pulled one of the oldest tomes if the collection and brought it to the table.

“Do you remember when our mother told us of the old tales from Valyria? How they believed in magic, in the connections between people?”

Daemon turned to look at his brother, confusion all over his handsome face.

“What of it?”

“There was this one myth, about how a few rare Valyrians had the luck to find what is called their soulmate. When they did, a certain bond was formed between the two, one so strong they could actually feel what the other felt.”

Viserys turned the pages until he found the chapter he wanted.

“See? The first of the signs that you have found your soulmate is the ability to know what the other feels, as if you experienced it yourself.”

Daemon approached cautiously, as if the book would hurt him. He read the passage, but shook his head in defiance.

“Those are just tales brother, things like that don’t happen,” he scoffed.

“You cannot deny that magic flows through our veins Daemon. Our ability to bond with our dragons is more than enough proof, not to mention the rare cases of dreamers. It was because of Daenys the Dreamer that our family escaped the Doom. Magic does exist in this world, and this is probably another rare form of it.”

He continued reading the chapter in silence, while Daemon tried to understand what his brother was suggesting. He remembered that strange warm feeling that filled him when he locked gazes with you, but he had dismissed it as the thrill of the victory. Being the prince, he had come across many women who would make eyes at him. Most of them only wanted him for his station, for the thrill of being with a member of the royal family. Others avoided him due to his reputation. But you, you had looked at him like you saw only him. Not the royal blood, not the roguish ways, not the ever-present smirk, just him, a man trying to prove himself to the world, all the while fighting the enemies of his brother, as well as his own demons.

“When did you first realize you could feel what she feels?” Viserys questioned, bringing Daemon out of his deep thoughts.

The prince thought about it for a moment.

“At the tourney, when I brought her favor back to her, after the fight ended.”

“Ah yes, that had the people gossiping,” the King smiled softly.

“I walked up to her and handed her the wreath, but her gaze left me speechless, paralyzed before her.”

“Exactly as it is described in the book,” Viserys nodded, pointing to a particular passage. “The first contact is usually made when the two soulmates lock gazes. After that, the bond is formed, and it grows stronger when the couple spends more time together. Any emotion one feels, so does the other.”

Daemon paused, remembering how he felt during the feast the night before, when he saw you dancing with your intended. Anger had consumed him, as well as disgust and fear. He had reacted purely out of instinct when he came to separate you from lord Baratheon. And then you had danced, and everything and everyone had faded, as if you were alone in the room.

The prince stared at his brother, who was smiling softly at him.

“Do you really think she could be my other half?” he asked him.

“Well, try and imagine your life without her. Think of her married to lord Baratheon, pregnant with his child, staying in Storm’s End for the rest of her life, until the Stranger claims her. How does that make you feel?”

A sense of absolute sadness and depression filled Daemon, his heart almost stopping at the thought of you belonging to someone else. He knew that lord Borros would never treat you properly, he’d never love you as you were meant to be loved. The very thought of that oaf touching you, fucking you, it made him want to kill someone.

The king rose from his seat and approached his brother.

“Go to her,” he said. “It is indeed a rare thing for someone to find their soulmate. Don’t lose her Daemon. Lord Borros is set to leave soon, and if he proposes to her, her father will make sure the marriage is done as quickly as possible.”

Daemon’s heart filled with resolve. He nodded at his brother, then turned towards the door. He would make sure to find you and ask you to be his, before it was too late.

--

Hope you guys liked it, I'll be posting the third and final part as soon as I possibly can!

[blond-jerk-tourney]

Blond Sweetheart Tourney: Round 3, Poll 2

Reigen Arataka from Mob Psycho 100 and Hunter from The Owl House teamed up after tying in Round 2. Propaganda from submitters Under Cut

Team Huntaka

Even though Reigen Arataka is a fraudulent psychic, he always tries to help people: while he lies about using psychic powers he always tries his best to solve his clients problems, even if it's just . He's a great mentor to Mob, guiding him to be a better person and be more connected with other people. He tried to take down a psychic terrorist organization by explaining to them that kidnapping people is wrong and they shouldn't do it.

Hunter is a traumatized teen who grows to bond and care about palisman - including his own, Flapjack - and the teenage students that he befriends.

Farma de Medicis

Pharma is the reincarnation of a pharmacist from Japan who worked so hard to discover ways to save lives that he worked himself to death. In the new world, he is just as determined to save as many people as he possibly can, no matter the consequences, but is also learning to keep himself healthy to spend time with his loved ones.

Hi, followers, I'm hear to tell you about Farma de Medicis, why you should vote for him here, and why you should watch his show. Farma was a 30-something Japanese pharmacist in our world before dying of overwork because he couldn't stop doing medical research in hopes of saving more lives. He cared so much about this, his life in Japan was a shell. When he reincarnates, while he retains that goal, he commits to overcoming that and making time to enjoy with the people he cares about. Everyone who works for him or works near him gets medicine for their ailments large and small. Dry hands and arthritis and pink eye are all equal. He makes sure to sneak in to visit his very young sister when she's isolated with chicken pox. He hires women who lost their careers after having children. When he receives a boon for saving the life of the queen of his new country, he asks not for lands, but to be able to open a pharmacy where he can provide medical care to people for free. When people are doing dangerous things for cosmetic reasons, he's not dismissive of them for being shallow, but instead finds ways to reach their cosmetic goals safely. When he's nearly assassinated for heresy, he performs risky battlefield surgery on one of his would-be murderers despite not being a surgeon, because he knows otherwise this man would die and he won't let that happen. Everything he does is in the name of public health, and he's got the biggest heart to treat people for free, and just shyly ensure he's charming and helpful to people so they're not scared to come to him for the help they need.

The guy handing out at-cost medical care and fighting the scammy pharmaceutical guilds is not getting enough love here.

[pinkhairswagtourney]

give a warm welcome to our 32 not-pink-enough contestants !!!

every single one of these characters has been accused of "not having pink enough hair to qualify for a main tourney" . the question is -- who is the best "pink" haired character of all time ? on 10/20/2023 , we'll begin voting to figure that out !!!!

ROUND ONE MATCHUPS

Junko Enoshima - Danganronpa VS Chiaki Nanami - Danganronpa Whitney - Pokemon VS Nao Egokoro - Your Turn to Die Sakuya Sakuma - Act! Addict! Actors! VS Sakura Minamoto - Zombieland Saga Crona - Soul Eater VS Ritsu - Assassination Classroom Kaz Kaan - Neo Yokio VS Kakyoin Noriaki - Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Sara - Tales of Link VS Sucy Manbavaran - Little Witch Academia Power - Chainsaw Man VS Sayori - Doki Doki Literature Club Pearl - Steven Universe VS Sylvie Ashling - Epithet Erased Nomi Nomi - I Was a Teenage Exocolonist VS Kipo Oak - Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts Clover Field - Zero Escape VS Mitsuri Kanroji - Demon Slayer Koyuki Himekawa - Magical Girl Raising Project VS Satori Komeiji - Touhou Ruby Kurosawa - Love Live! VS Princess Iris - Lolirock Vi - Arcane VS Duck - Princess Tutu Mizuki Akiyama - Project Sekai VS Kokomi Sangonomiya - Genshin Impact Kirio Nekoyanagi - The Idolm@ster VS Marika Kato - Mouretsu Pirates Iono - Pokemon VS K-Angel - Needy Streamer Overload

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt.13

(Sandor Clegane x Fem Reader × Cersei Lannister. TW: violence)

(BTW: I have officially made an AO3 account that I will be transferring this story to as an OC fic. I will be continuing the fic here as an x Reader fic as well. I will include the link on Pt.14)

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

The Hand's Tourney was set to be the event of the year.

Members of all the high and low noble families had gathered in the Keep, and hopeful knights old and young entered their names into the lists.

You were so glad Sandor wasn't one of them.

You knew how strong he was, and how skilled with his sword. But you didn't think you could stomach watching on the side lines as some hedge knight tried to take chunks from the notorious Hound.

Cersei had insisted on picking out your dress for the tourney, as it would be the first time you would be presented to all of the noble families. The gown itself was rose pink satin and the bodice and sleeves clung tightly to you. Over this, a maid laced a cloth of gold over bodice intricately decorated with silk rosettes. Your slippers were gold as well, also decorated with rosettes.

Cersei also urged you to let her maids braid your hair as was popular with the other noble ladies, which you agreed to so long as your head didn't end up looking like a beehive.

"Unfortunately, it would be poor form for us to sit together." Cersei bemoaned, "But consider this your first challenge to face alone."

"Yes, your grace" You balled up bits of your skirt into your palms, which were sweating from nerves.

Sandor was to stand guard of the royal family. Cersei was to sit next to the king. Which left you alone for the first time in quite a while, and in unfamiliar waters.

"Now, do you remember what I told you?" Cersei came up from behind you in the mirror, letting her fingers play with the delicate braids the maid had finished pinning into place.

"Avoid the small counsel members, except maybe Renly who's harmless enough. Don't start conversations but don't ignore someone trying to talk to me either. And if a knight asks for my favor, it's impolite to refuse....I don't think Sandor would like that one."

"Oh," Cersei scoffed, "Favors are one of the few exceptions to the rule. As long as it's clear that you're loyal to your husband, it's just innocent fun."

"If you say so" You bit your lip. Your favor was a simple wreath of paper flowers meant to go over a knight's lance for good luck in battle. You rather doubted it would be put to any use.

The start of the tourney itself was delayed for various reasons, leaving you and the rest of the onlookers to sit in the summer sun waiting impatiently.

You found an isolated spot in the stands across from the royal pavilion. Every once in a while, you would catch the eye of your husband or your lover and smile at them, wanting to join them but knowing it was impossible.

"Sitting alone, my lady?"

You looked up before looking away with a scoff, "Good day, Lord Varys. Might I help you with something?"

"Just taking in the joust." Varys did not ask to join you before sitting, fanning himself with a small paper fan.

"You hate blood sports." you reminded him knowingly.

"I do." Varys nodded, "But I just wanted to check in. You haven't told him yet."

"He doesn't need to know, it makes no difference."

"It makes all the difference." Varys corrected you before growing thoughtfully silent. "Or could it be you haven't accepted the truth yourself?"

At this you stood, gathering your skirts. "I am not entertaining this conversation. Good day."

But Varys wasn't letting you off the hook that easily.

"What do you think happens to barren wives of noble men?" The spider hissed "Do you think they're just reluctantly tolerated? At best, the Hound could petition the king to annul your marriage. At worst-" he tossed you a scathing look. "Let's just say there's more than one way to get rid of a troublesome wife."

"Shut your horrid mouth," you snapped at him, drawing the attention of others now, "My husband would never do that to me!"

"Oh you pretty little fool, you've managed to actually fall for him." Varys sighed, "then you're not half as clever as I believed you to be."

"Is the Spider disturbing you, Lady Clegane?"

You glanced up and almost sighed with relief at the sight of white armour and golden hair.

"Yes, actually" you glared at Varys.

Jaime scowled at the Eunuch, who backed down with a simper. "Perhaps the Lady has heard enough of your poison, Lord Varys"

"Very well" was all the Master of Whispers said, leaving you to the tender care of your savior.

"Ignore him" Jaime urged you after you thanked him. "You look very beautiful today, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Thank you, Ser Jaime. In truth your sister arranged most of this."

"She's always loved arranging things, my sister"

"I should warn you" you glanced across the pitch to your husband, "Sandor doesn't like the idea of you talking to me."

"No?" Jaime quirked a brow and gave an amused chuckle, "I suppose I'm taking my life in my own hands then"

"Speaking of" you motioned to the jousting ring, "you aren't participating?"

"No, not this time." He looked disappointed, "just an onlooker. Your brother by law is jousting this first round though. Is he not?"

"If they ever start, he should be." you chuckled as the King grew drunker and more and more impatient.

Finally the jousters made their entrances. First was Ser Hugh of the Vale, a young handsome man with flaxen hair and shiny new armour. He took his rounds on a tawny gelding to the cheers of the crowd.

The younger ladies of the court were clearly taken with this newcomer and this overwhelming support seemed to make him cocky.

Gregor, even ahorse, absolutely dwarfed the man. He, like his brother, also rode a black stallion, but Gregor's was dappled with grey and didn't seem to have the same discipline Stranger had.

The cheers for the Mountain were less boisterous, more of a polite round of applause.

You expected him to report right to his end of the run, but instead your skin broke out in goose bumps as he directed his horse towards you.

"My Lady." He addressed you with surprising respect, "I request your favor for House Clegane."

It would be rude to refuse, you knew that. And if he was requesting in the name of your shared house, it would be disrespectful to turn him away.

Pale but forcing your hands not to shake, you slipped the wreath of yellow paper flowers over his lance.

"Good luck to you, Brother" you nodded and he nodded back before returning to the joust.

Maybe he did approve of you, you thought as you returned to your seat by Jaime.

The horses were set and the knights ready and with a blast of a trumpet, they were off. The horses went at each other at a full gallop and lances lowered as the knights drew closer to each other.

You had expected the shattering of shields, and the sounds of wood against plate.

You hadn't expected the visceral, wet crunch of bone and blood as Gregor's lance point went not through the chest, but through Ser Hugh's throat. His armour, not properly secured, had given Gregor the perfect opening to end the bout in one round.

The crowd went up with a cry of dismay that simmer down into horrified silence as Ser Hugh fought desperately for his last breaths.

"Gods" Jaime breathed before glancing at your pale face. "Next time I go into battle, remind me to ask for your favor first."

You didn't respond, not finding the jest amusing in the slightest.

Gregor dismounted and, with chilling calm, returned to your side of the pitch. His armor clanking with each step and movement until he reached over the barrier and dropped something in your lap.

Yellow paper flowers, now notably crumpled, and dappled by Ser Hugh's blood.

You couldnt find the words to congratulate him, still shell shocked from the sight of lance peircing throat.

Gregor didn't wait for your acknowledgement, simply walking away.

"Look on the bright side." Jaime tried to rouse you, "I think he likes you."

When you didnt laugh, Jaime noticed people had started to leave the stands. The pitch needed to be reset and it would be hours until the next bout.

"Come" he offered his arm which you took shakily. "Let's get you back where you belong."

------------------

"Drink" Cersei poured you a generous glass of red. Your hands still shook but your mind had come back from the shock.

Jaime had escorted you to Cersei's side, and the queen had a similar attitude to her brother about the whole situation.

"I think we can call that a success at least" she assured you, slipping her arm through yours. "You did everything right, he asked, you gave, it was a solid show of familiar acceptance. Now that Gregor has accepted you as a Clegane, the court will follow."

"I feel like I killed that man" you said without thinking.

Cersei pulled a confused face and shook her head. "Nonsense, people die in tourneys all the time sweetling."

"I feel sick" you breathed, closing your eyes as if to stop the world from spinning.

----------------

Sandor was wrought with fury, and for a moment wished he had joined the lists just so he could throttle his frustrations out.

"Look who it is" the irritating princeling under his care pointed over the crowd. Lady Sansa, hooked to her prince's arm, craned her neck and smiled a little.

"Congratulations on your brother's win today, My Lady" Sansa said politely, though she had been equally dismayed by the bloodshed.

"Your Highness, My Lady" you acknowledged the younger pair in turn before turning to your husband. "I'm returning to the keep. I'm not feeling too well"

Sandor gave a short nod, not asking for further.

"You should not walk alone if you are not well" Sansa insisted, clinging to Joffery and trying to subtly motion to Sandor who had been looming behind them for hours.

"I appreciate the concern but I'm sure I'll be fine" you insisted but the Prince shook his head, picking up on Sansa's implication.

"Nonsense. Dog, see to your lady. Lady Sansa and I will be fine without you."

Sandor didn't need convincing before whisking you back to the keep, Sansa watching with wide blue eyes.

"They are very romantic, aren't they?" She breathed, "I wanted to watch their wedding when we were at Winterfell, but mother wouldn't let me."

"It was boring" Joffrey scoffed. "Who cares about two servants getting married?"

"I thought she was a hedge knight's daughter you met on the road?"

Joffrey quickly remembered himself and the lie his mother had impressed upon him and gave a cruel smirk, "That's right, I must have misremembered."

Sansa ignored the irony in his voice, swept up in the idea of a poor knight's daughter and a grumpy bear of a man meeting by chance on the King's Road and being so taken with each other they married as soon as they could in a grand castle.

It was just like the songs and tales she loved so much.

-----------------

"That was horrible."

"That's tourneys for you" Sandor growled, "what did you expect?"

"Not that" you struggled to keep up with him.

He didn't respond, and you found the silence to be brutally intentional.

"Sandor" you stopped, watching and he continued to storm forth. "Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad?" He stopped but didn't turn to look at you.

"Are you mad that I gave Gregor my favor before the joust?"

His shoulder slackened a little as he rolled back to face you, looking tired. "No" he confessed, "That's not why I'm mad."

"But you are mad" you pressed. "With me?"

He shrugged.

"Please be honest" you begged him, "I'm still very new at all this. If I did something wrong, I need to know."

Sandor took a breath, not wanting to take his frustrations out on you. Not if you were just trying to help.

"Fucking Lannister" he growled, "he had you practically in his lap the whole bout. And I know he did it just to piss me off."

Your face softened with understanding. "Oh, my love. Is that it?" You didn't want to laugh at him, it would only piss him off worse. So instead you closed the gap between the two of you.

"The queen is one thing" he breathed, "I won't lie and say I love the idea. But she makes you happy, and she's making life here easier for you....but that fucking brother of hers" his voice deepened to a growl. "I know, about you and him."

You gave a sharp breath. "It was just the once."

"Once is enough."

You thought a moment. "If it makes things easier, I will do my best to avoid Jaime Lannister."

"You can try" Sandor grumbled, "but one word to Her Grace and he'll try to turn her against you."

"I doubt that." You assured him. "She knows how much I love you. I like to think she'd be understanding "

---------------------

The second half of the joust didn't come until late the next morning.

This time you found your seat on the same side as the royal family, keeping yourself further away from the front so Gregor wouldn't ask for your favor a second time.

This time the Mountain was riding against Ser Loras Tyrell, a sterling youth with light chestnut hair that hung in ringlets. His armour was a shimmering display of steel roses pressed into the plate. His shield bore the sigil of his house proudly.

His mount was a milk white mare, and as she passed Gregor's stallion the black horse began to prance in place anxiously.

Despite Gregor's best efforts, the stallion would not settle as they mounted for the joust. It became rowdy and impatient, and when the trumpet blared the stallion dashed frantically in the direction of the mare.

Loras's lance smashed against Gregor's chest, sending the giant into the dirt and knocking off his helmet.

The crowd erupted with cheers as Loras basked in their adulation. Gregor, ever a sour loser, called for his sword.

You waited for the Melee round to start, internally bracing for another death, but instead of taking the broad sword to the Knight of the Flowers, Gregor took the head off the stallion with a single blow.

You covered your mouth in shock as the stallion stiffened and collapsed, flooding the pitch with a small river of blood. Gregor turned his attention onto Loras.

Before the teenager got a chance to call for his own weapon, Gregor shattered the Tyrell sigil into a million splinters and reared back to smash his opponent as well.

The crowd cried for mercy, and from the royal pavilion a large black mass shot between Gregor and Loras. It took you a moment to realize that black mass was your husband, who had drawn his own sword and was fighting off his brother as well as he could.

Size and strength were on Gregor's side, but Sandor managed to dodge and parry ill aimed blows that were fueled by rage.

You pushed yourself through the crowd to the wooden gate that separated the crowd from the jousters. You wanted to scream, but knew if you did you'd be risking his life.

He needed focus, as even now the battle wasn't looking good for him.

"Stop this madness in the name of your King" Robert bellowed, enraged by this sudden outbreak of violence. Sandor was the first to stop, almost immediately as the order was given he ducked quick enough to avoid what would have been a vicious blow to the head.

Gregor stopped only when he realized all attention was on him, armed guards waiting for him to make a wrong move so they could skewer him from all angles.

Instead he tossed his sword like a toddler tosses a toy and stormed off, Robert calling for the guards to leave him be.

Loras had managed to recover himself enough to make a show of honoring Sandor for saving his life, prompting scores of cheers that left him looking rather embarrassed.

When the crowd departed you all but threw yourself at you husband, grabbing at him with clinging hands.

"Gods, you can't do that" you scolded him, blood pounding in your ears frantically. "I thought I was going to have a heart attack. How can you be so stupidly brave? Damn you!"

Sandor grumbled under his breath, letting an arm drape over you shyly. "Well, I just didn't want Gregor to get the satisfaction of 2 deaths in as many days."

That was a lie, but you let him keep it. You supposed it was easier for him to swallow than the thought he'd done something genuinely selfless for someone he barely knew.

By the end of the day, The Hound almost wished he'd let the kid get crushed if it meant he wouldn't have to bat off so many strangers trying to thank and congratulate him.

Joffrey took great pleasure in the attention. After all, he considered the Hound's success to reflect on him. If The Hound was fearsome, than he was even more so.

Somehow, you even ended up getting caught in the frenzy. The noblewomen who had scorned you now tried to pull you into their conversations. You weren't sure how to feel about that, but mostly smiled and nodded to be polite.

"You must tell us more about how you met, it's so unusual." A strange but well dressed woman pressed.

"It's romantic" another woman dressed all in blue insisted, you had forgotten her name, "I didn't meet my husband until my wedding day."

"Are you going to try for children?" An older woman interjected, "I know you're getting a late start of it, but you still have some good years. Don't let those know-nothing Maesters make you think otherwise."

"Oh, you poor thing" the conversation came back around to the first woman. "I can't imagine the size of those babies"

"Poor thing, my eye" the older woman laughed, "I can imagine the size of that-"

"Lady Florent, you stop right there!" the blue woman scolded her with a fierce blush across her face.

You gave brief but friendly answers, and before long you had them eating out of the palm of your hand.

Maybe Cersei was right.

Maybe you would get on here just fine.

[mattapparentlystumbltourneys]

Virtual Character Tourney - Battle for 5th!

Propaganda below (May contain spoilers!)

P03 propaganda:

bro literally is stuck in a floppy disk and its whole goal is to perform 'the great transcendence' and upload the game its trapped in into the web to copy itself across the entire internet in attempts to be in charge

Ultraman X propaganda:

X canonically lost his physical form and lives in Daiichi's phone. His presence caused Daiichi's phone to turn gold, instead of the standard-issue silver the rest of XIO's employees have. It's possible for XIO's scientists to send powerups to X because he lives on Daiichi's phone. There's also a couple episodes where X gets trapped in cyberspace and Dr. Gourman and friends have to design something for Daiichi to help him escape. (Dr. Gourman is the first to notice Daiichi is secretly Ultraman X. Also in the crossover movie, Daiichi and X got separated and X couldn't live on Daiichi's phone so he jumped to the nearest computer (which belonged to Naomi from Ultraman Orb, air date 2016) and began pulling up photos of Daiichi in a "Have You Seen This Nerd?" sort of way. The enemy goons saw Naomi and her cryptid hunting gang putting up missing posters for Daiichi and tore them down bc they had him captured at their crystal witch's base, a creepy haunted house. Eventually when Daiichi and X reunited as man and lil alien on his phone, they were so happy they ignored everyone else in the room. They were grateful enough to fight alongside Naomi's sad space cowboy, Kurenai Gai, in battle.

He's used the phone's vibration function a few times to try and get people's attention, and he doesn't like being turned face-down because he can't see. In order to take on a physical form he has to essentially fuse with his human partner Daichi. (also they get a power up form after Daichi nearly Dies to save him and it's rainbow themed.) While X is very chatty and enjoys talking with his partner, he's often a formless voice while they're fused.The exception being one occasion where he looks like an entire network. tldr this alien is gay he is very polite and deserves your vote.

HAL 9000 propaganda:

One of the most iconic AI villains

"I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that."

Giffany propaganda:

Pink hair

The blueprint for both Five Nights At Freddy's and Doki Doki Literature Club

in one episode of gravity falls soos plays a dating game to get better at social skills and the main girl in the game is sentient and falls in love with him. then soos becomes interested in a real woman and giffany takes about 3 seconds to start possessing animatronics and trying to kill them both. girlboss

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

I made a list of pairings, but now I've got titles and summaries for you! Headers will be added as I make them.

12/14: Patience, Zaldrīzītsos Hand holding & dry humping with What is Broken!Aemond x Fiancee/Sister!Reader

At their pre-wedding tourney, Aemond sits in the stands with his sister – his betrothed – and holds her hand to help calm her while they watch the fighting, and continues to do so all through the dinner. He escorts her back to her chambers to kiss her goodnight, but kisses turn into something more…

12/15: After the War Dreams & Dirty Talk with Tom Bennett x Reader

The night before Tom is sent back to his ship, he spends one last night with his best girl and makes plans for what they'll do when the war is over.

12/16: With No One Around In Nature & Deep Throating with Aemond x Wife!Reader

When you and Aemond need to relax, you have a secret spot where you can go and be all alone.

12/17: Okay? Okay. Reassurance & Car Sex with Modern!Aegon x Girlfriend!Reader

You end up needing to run a few errands at the same time Aegon has his weekly therapist's appointment, so you decide to drop him off and pick him up. But when he gets back in the car, he's desperate for affirmation. It seems the topic of his appointment was his parent's marriage

12/18: Enclosed Letters & lingere kink with Tom Bennett x Reader

When he's far away at sea, Tom finds himself infinitely grateful that you found work at a photography studio.

12/19: One Day... Future & Face Sitting with Billy Washington x Reader

After months of recovering from Cranstead, and even more months of job-searching, Billy has finally been hired. And he knows exactly how he wantsto celebrate.

12/20: Presents Wrapped in Black Sharing a Drink & Toys with Daemon x Sugar Baby!Reader

Unfortunately, Daemon was the only one home when his Christmas present arrived, and even worse, there was no wrapping on the package. So, you spend Christmas Eve experimenting with his very extensive new collection of fine spirits and liquors. And since he got his present early, he thinks it's only fair that you do too. Of course, he can never resist spoiling you...

12/21: Dusky Pink Sunset & Orgasm Control with Studious!Aemond x Wife!Reader

Y'all'll get this summary once Studious VI is out... 👀

12/22: Hold Your Breath Swimming & Face Fucking with Tom Bennett x Reader

When Tom takes you to the beach for your first holiday since the war, you quickly begin to suspect he has an ulterior motive. But as long as you can watch his muscle moves as he swims, you can be okay with that.

12/23: The Princess at the Inn Bed Sharing & Accidental Stimulation with Ser Criston Cole x Aegon's Twin!Reader Yes I'm a simp for Cole, fucking sue me

For the first time in years, Ser Criston Cole is not guarding his Queen. Alicent has sent him on a covert mission to retrieve her wayward daughter, who has fled from the prospect of marrying her twin brother. It was supposed to be simple, but he quickly finds that the girl he thought to be so like her elder half-sister is in fact quite different.

12/24: Office Christmas Party A Fancy Party & Praising with Modern!Aemond x Reader

You totally aren't worried about making a fool of yourself at your boyfriend's office Christmas party. Why would you be? It's only hours of socializing with people richer than you, better dressed than you, and probably smarter than you. It's only the first time you would meet Aemond's famous family (who you may or may not have heard telling him how 'beneath him' you are whenever Aemond forgets you're home and has his phone on speaker). What about that could possibly make you nervous?

12/25: I'll Be Home for Christmas Promise & Phone Sex with Osferth x Reader

Your fiance, Osferth, has been gone far too long. The two month trip - to see all the holy sites from the New Testament - was already long enough as it is. But now, a massive blizzard has stranded him at the airport. It's Christmas Eve, and you might very well be spending your favorite holiday alone.

[racefortheironthrone]

Why do you think Renly despises Brienne?

Are you asking why I think that or why he despises Brienne?

To answer the first version, it's right there in the text:

The younger man started for the door. But there he turned back. "Renly thought she was absurd. A woman dressed in man's mail, pretending to be a knight." "If he'd ever seen her in pink satin and Myrish lace, he would not have complained." "I asked him why he kept her close, if he thought her so grotesque. He said that all his other knights wanted things of him, castles or honors or riches, but all that Brienne wanted was to die for him." (ASOS, Jaime VIII)

Renly made use of Brienne because she came on the cheap, but he didn't respect her and you can see him in ACOK toying with her emotions like a cat with a mouse, because he was observant enough to realize that she was in love with him and cruel enough not to let her down easy.

But as to the second version of the question...here I think the difficulty comes in the difference between show Renly and book Renly. Show Renly dislikes Robert's macho culture of warfare, tournaments, and hunting; he's a recognizably modern gay man who leans a bit more fem than butch.

Book Renly has no problems performing traditional Westerosi masculinity: he's a "young Robert" before the booze and feasting covered his maiden's-fantasy-muscles with fat, he's a prominent tourney knight (although Stannis notes that he's better at performing the role of the tourney knight than actually winning the tourneys), he's charismatic but unintellectual ("Lord Renly always said that books were for maesters."). In modern parlance, we'd call him a "masc for masc" gay guy.

So it's not surprising that that kind of man would believe in Westerosi gender norms, because except for the fact that he sleeps with men (which isn't generally considered a problem as long as one is discreet and manages to father an heir), he's a very conventional Westerosi nobleman.