#the 1 thing jace has going for him in this fic is that he will be absent despite being reader's closest male kin. good for you king | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dulcewrites · 2 years ago

Text

Fool Me Once (part 10)

Summary: As tensions arise in King’s Landing, you make moves to assure the safety of your children. Final breaths are taken, pacts are made and broken, steel is drawn and the dragons dance.

Warning: mentions of stillbirths/pregnancy issues, allusions to self harm, some unreliable narrator if you squint. In our f&b bag fr!

A/N: you guys 🥺 we are finally on the last part. First, I want to say I am sooooo sorry about how long it took to get this one out. By the time I’m posting this I’m sort of like, do people even still care lmao 💀. Life has been hectic and tbh I’ve been putting some focus onto other things. Shameless plug to my other, more happy Aemond x oc series, on ao3. As well as I’ve gotten so much amazing feedback and interactions about this fic that I was slightly worried about how people would take the end. Speaking of feedback, and moving on to the more sappy stuff. My writing side blog has grown exuberantly since posting part 1 of fmo last year. It genuinely makes me emotional thinking about the little community that’s come from it. I hope to continue to make more stuff that I’m not only happy with, but further pushes said community ❤️❤️ if y’all have any hotd request let me know. Please reblog, like, and comment. As well as come chat in my inbox if you see something you like.

Slight housekeeping, though if you made it this far you probably already know. This fic does change the dance for self indulgent reasons (lol) and for the narrative of it all. This started as a cheating story and has sort of spun into something entirely else.

Fmo masterlist

Blog masterlist

Ninth moon of 129 AC

Rhaenyra’s voice could be heard from down the hall.

You wanted to reassure yourself that you had heard those screams before from Helaena, or even from yourself giving birth. But there was something so terribly guttural about the ones Rhaenyra was making.

As if outcome of the birth hung in the air. Lingering with the ghost of the past death that happened in the Red Keep. You try not to focus on the sheer look of panic on Jace’s face once you leave him at the door.

By the time you got to her chambers, Rhaenyra is already surrounded by midwives as she is hunched over, palms spread out against the wall. Midwives, and Alicent, whose face was terribly pale. Almost as drained of color as Rhaenyra. Her normally straight blonde hair wavy and stuck to her forehead with the sheen of her own sweat.

Alicent spots you, and gets away from her position from around her. She pulls you over to the side, but before she can even speak you interrupt her. The midwives begin to move Rhaenyra from her standing position to on the bed.

“Has this happened before,” you watch as Rhaenyra pleas lessen and lessen, her state becoming more sedated than what is probably normal.

Alicent shakes her head. Her auburn curls had been released for the night from the tight updo they were in earlier.

“No, at least not the first three,” she swallows hard before coming closer to you. “I fear - I fear this labor may go awry. I think we need to make preparations for if…”

The words catch in the back of Alicent’s throat. She is here with Rhaenyra; she has always been with Rhaenyra. Even when they were at odds; two ghosts haunting each other’s memories. Two sides of the same coin, causalities of the cruel fate. You want to feel sorry her; knowing that she is watching a close… companion go through this, but your mind has been elsewhere since earlier that day.

“Your son has made preparations,” you cross your arms. “All of them actually.”

Alicent brows furrow in confusion, and it dawns on you that Aemond and Aegon never clued their mother in on their little plan.

“You do not know, do you?”

“No, I do not know what your husband has been getting into. I rarely do these days.”

You and her both.

Rhaenyra lets out another groan.

“Where is Daemon,” you ask as Rhaenyra begins to mumble things incoherently to the midwives.

“He took one look at her, and left the room,” Alicent frowns. “She called for him but he went to get Jacaerys instead.”

And Jace came for you on the behest of Alicent. Tis the way of men you suppose. Often, they are absolute nuisance in situations like this, but you could not help but think that mayhaps if Daemon had stayed to seen her in this state, he would not put her through such things again. But that is giving him far more credit than you know he deserves.

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra manages to mumble out the name louder. Her eyes fluttering open and shut.

Alicent instantly rushes over, dropping the conservation she has started with you.

As you watch Alicent coax Rhaenyra through this, her words ring out. Though she did not elaborate on what those plans should be, she was right. Aemond had taken the reigns from your hands plenty times before. Safety will not be completely ensured until any threat is taken out. You have never been to battle nor war, and even you know that. A slightly morbid thought creeps into your head.

If Rhaenyra dies, Aegon could descend the throne.

It was laughable for Rhaenyra, or anyone who supports her claim, to believe known bastards would follow her in the line of succession. Or that Daemon would not bypass Rhaenyra’s first three boy in order to ensure power for her last two. It would mean an all-out war between Aegon and Daemon… but maybe it did not have to go that far. Not if plans were made to undercut whatever moves you know Daemon could put into place.

They are all back in King’s Landing, no longer under the false tranquility they tried to spin at Dragonstone. Amongst their patrons who already have much to say about Rhaenyra’s still short reign.

Aegon on the throne would ensure the safety of all of the kids. And not only the kids, but the kingdom as a whole. A war of succession, especially including dragons, would only bring destruction. Rhaenyra’s boys would have a chance to swear obeisance after Daemon is out of the way, and if not, their presence will not be needed. Bastard blood being spilt is nothing compared to the life your children.

They could go back to Dragonstone and live their lives out there with young Egg and Viserys. With the possibility of Daemon for a father, they would be better off for it.

Your thoughts are broken by the midwives telling Rhaenyra to try and push.

There was already a significant amounts of blood trailing where Rhaenyra had been. Her pushes do little to soothe the position she is in. In frustration and pain, eventually Rhaenyra, much to the chagrin of the midwives and Alicent, shoos them all away. Reaching down to pull the babe out herself.

Letting out an already grief-stricken scream as she does it.

The air is sucked from the room as a gush of blood rushes out of Rhaenyra, followed by a tiny body.

A tiny… silent body. Wrapped in scales and slightly deformed.

No one speaks as they watch Rhaenyra pick up the baby from between her legs and rocks it as if trying to lure it into crying, into breathing. But nothing comes. Just silence, and the aches of a daughter stuck in the self-fulfilling prophecy of a mother that is no longer around.

It is not proper nor lady-like, and you can hear your own mother’s voice in the back of your telling you how rude it is in a time like this, but you just turn and leave. Without a word or peep. Suddenly feeling sick you go back down the hall, back to your chambers. Ignoring Jace who calls your name out in confusion by the sudden silence coming from his mother’s room.

By the time you make it back to the room, Aemond had gotten himself ready for bed. Completely casual as if the events earlier meant nothing to him.

“What’s happened,” he notices your ashen face.

You take one look at your husband, you think of your children away in a place foreign to them, and the stillborn baby Rhaenyra clutched in her arms.

The bile comes up quick. So quick you barely make I to the basin on the other side of the room. The dry heaving reminds you that you barely ate anything today, too worried about the task at hand.

You flinch when you feel a cold hand on your back. Shrugging Aemond’s hand off, you turn head with a glare.

“You made your move,” you mutter. “I’ll give you that. But now we are going to this my way. And Aemond, so help me, a single hair on those kid’s heads is harmed and I am not with them, I burn it all to the ground, you with it.”

You don’t know how and when, but you would do it for them if it came to that. You’d do anything for their safety. It may be time for others to realize that.

— — —

Princess Visenya Targaryen is set on the pyre a day and a half later. A small swaddled body lit on fire once Rhaenyra croaked out the words. Syrax blowing a mighty flame to burn Rhaenyra’s only little girl.

She was advised to stay in bed. Though her outward physical ailments had started to heal, it was clear Queen Rhaenyra was sick. Pale skin still prickling with sweat despite the cool air outside, dark bags starting to form under her eyes as she leans gently against the cane she was given.

You stand next to Aemond, Helaena, and Aegon. The only warm you feel from the fire in front on you.

It was slightly shocking when Helaena came up to you before the funeral with guilt written over her soft features.

“I just had… a funny feeling about the kids being here. I’m sorry.”

She knew.

You were not happy about once again feeling like you’re on the outside looking in with people you are supposed to call family. At least Helaena had the decency to feel ashamed by the omission. The decency to apologize. Guilt and Aemond is laughable being in the same sentence, and Aegon had been avoiding you. A thing that has not happened in months. Helaena was always right about these things; the scary part is that you all never really knew till the outcome already happened.

You run your hand over your black mourning dress. Peering out from under your veil, you make eye contact with Daemon across the fire.

Normally mirth filled eyes, and folly written all over his face had been replaced by an emptiness that scared you. Often, you had felt the unearned confidence and ambition around you was just noblemen living up to an expectation put on by others around them. But a Daemon, already known for his rogue behavior, feeling emboldened by the death of his brother, daughter, and the newly weakened state of his wife, made you nervous.

Only compounded when you think about the conversation shared at Dragonstone. Your loyalty was not expected, but even demanded. You can’t help but wonder if the kids not being around has only put a fiercer target on your back, or even on theirs.

You look over at Aegon - messy hair, bored expression, purple circles under his eyes. But he is no worse for wear compared to Rhaenyra.

If it one thing you have learned since being around this family, it is appearances often make up for everything. Slap a smile and nice outfit on, and people tend to believe what they see versus what is underneath the surface.

The funeral ends, and you make a sharp beeline towards Otto.

“I need to run something past you.”

You rake your knuckles against Aegon’s door, and get reply in return. You do it again, this time with more vigor, slightly embarrassed at Ser Arryk just watching you pound away.

“He is in there,” you question, turning to him.

“The last time I checked, he was my lady.”

The last time he checked?

You supposed not ever sworn protector can be as diligent as Quinton, and not every subject can be well behaved.

“Aegon,” you knock once more.

Blowing out frustrated air through your mouth, you turn to go but the door eventually swings open.

His hair is crumpled on one side, shirt unbuttoned, and reeking of wine. It had not hit you that he may be with someone.

“If you are… predisposed, I apologize. I can come back”

A dopey grin breaks out of face, before he hitched the door open wider. “No one is with me. Oh, dovelet were you worried about that?”

You look over to see Arryk raise a brow at you. You push at Aegon, further annoyed. “Go.” Forcing him back into his chambers.

“Everyone is so touchy today.”

You were there, before the funeral, when Alicent fussed at him about going to it. About trying to look engaged, which he clearly did not. You think about the conversation you had with Otto in his office.

“He is not going to like it. He has long come to terms with not wanting to be king.”

“But his wants are of no concern to you now, are they?”

When put that way, you can’t help but feel a bit bad. But it is true. What Aegon wants right now means little to you. He will eventually learn to like it, and if not like it, he will learn to tolerate it. The way others have to tolerate their fate in life. We are all stuck in the same miserable cycle; the only difference is some of us will not be able to call ourselves King of the Seven Kingdoms.

“We need to talk about some things.”

“Black is one your colors,” he changes the subject. “You should wear it more often.”

“Aegon, I’m serious,” you pinch your nose.

“Is this about the kids? I thought you would be happy they are out of harm’s way.”

“They are not out of harm’s way,” your voice raises, and this is not going the way it was supposed to.

You must push him with a gently hand. A woman’s touch.

There was a something slimy about how Otto ended the conversation. Sending you to Aegon to enact a woman’s touch… whatever that meant.

“But they could be,” you lower your voice. “If - If there was someone else at the helm. None of us would have to worry about their safety. About our safety.”

Aegon give you a funny look before flopping down on his bed.

He is drunk so he may not remember any of this by next morning. You sit next to him on the bed.

“There is no running from this. Despite what you may say, you know you would not be able to live with yourself if you left your family, your kids. Aegon, you are too smart not to know what this is all coming to.”

Though not something you voiced yourself, running was an option that crossed your mind. Finding a way out to Oldtown, grabbing your kids, and running. The logistics seemed all to wash away when the word dragon comes along. Traveling with two young kids would be difficult enough, managing to travel discretely with a giant dragon would not work. You don’t know how you would tell Daella to leave Vermithor.

And then a chill would run up your spine. Where could you go where he would not find you on dragon back?

The two of you sit in silence before Aegon sighs softly.

“Share a drink with me,” Aegon whispers. “Before we all die.”

It makes you laugh. Because that is all you can do at the folly that is your life. You nod softly.

The wine is a Dornish Red. Sweet, warm, and sultry tasting drink. It reminds you of the look Aegon is giving you.

Alicent peaks her head into the door.

“Rhaenyra,” she sees baby Aegon and Viserys sitting on their mother’s bed. Both babbling away over each other. Rhaenyra weakly waves her in. Both Egg and Viserys give Alicent tiny little bows. They do it to everyone, even those who technically do not have the same amount of power toddlers do. Bowing at guards, nursemaids, and court members alike.

The boys are eventually escorted out by one of the maids, but not until they both tell Alicent about the flock of lizards they found in the garden. It’s sweet, Alicent thinks. Reminds her of when her kids were that age. Not yet tainted or disrupted by the life around them. Alicent supposes she also has herself to blame for that when it comes to own children.

Both boys not understanding the position their mother is in. She knows that Rhaenyra is grateful at least two of her kids are not aware of her vulnerable state.

“How are you feeling,” Alicent sits at the edge of the bed next to her, taking in scattering of notes around Rhaenyra. Members of Rhaenyra’s small council have written notes for Rhaenyra to read while she is abed. From things as simple as the mouse problem in the Red Keep to things more serious. Like the Shepherd’s continued teachings; this week sermon’s going as far to say the death of the Visenya was an act of the Gods. That this is Rhaenyra’s punishment. Punishment for the dragon, the incest, the Targaryen of it all.

Alicent makes sure to only visit Rhaenyra when she knows she will not run into Daemon. He flaunted around the castle as if he has never left. Still the same air of arrogance and fire, only now swathed under a layer of coolness. The passing of Viserys, clearly leading him in a quieter path.

So many awful things lead back to that man. Alicent is sure of it.

All Rhaenyra can do is give a small smile and the shake of the head.

“A bit better now that you’re here.”

Alicent just ducks her head shyly.

Rhaenyra was always good at that, making Alicent feel like she was a girl again. Ten and four and completely out of her depth when it came to her feelings. An issue she worries she still has not gained control over.

“I am thinking of naming Daemon protector of the realm,” she then croaks out. “I do not know how much I can get done while in this bed. Watching it all crumble beneath me.”

Naivety. It is the only word that comes Alicent’s mind when it comes to how Rhaenyra handles Daemon. Ironically, it is the same way Otto describes her relationship with Rhaenyra. Her father never forgets a chance the remind her the nostalgia of girlhood, and security she wraps in Rhaenyra. The same way Alicent does not know if Rhaenyra has convinced herself that Daemon’s will head her council above anyone’s else is her true feelings, is the same way Alicent does not know if she holds onto the good parts of Rhaenyra because they still exist. Or because without holding onto them, she would be again flailing and alone. Once again left with the cold, empty feelings that comes with duty above else.

The only person Alicent saw ever cut Daemon down to size is now dead, rotting and finally silent. If Rhaenyra thinks the bond, she had with Daemon is anything more than him trying to hold onto the last semblances of Viserys he could find, she has been sorely mistaken.

“Mayhaps, you should speak that over with the rest of your council,” she pushes the duvet further over Rhaenyra. It is not her job to advise. She doesn’t know if she has it in her advising another clueless monarch. Another seemingly well meaning, but headstrongly clueless monarch. Rhaenyra gets her same propriety from her father.

Rhaenyra is not a bad person. The same way many people would say Viserys was not a bad person. But when all things are said and done, Viserys will be remembered as peaceful. Alicent worries history will not give the same charitable read to Rhaenyra. Who fumbles and doubles down on her bad actions in the way she learned from her father. Terribly misguided in each path they take, paying no mind to the carnage left behind.

Too much trust in Daemon. A fault both will have to live with or die by.

“Everything will be fine, once I recover,” she takes note of Alicent’s distant eyes. “It will be alright.”

You look so much like your father when you lie to me. So much like him with false hope and no tact. They riot in the streets over your reign already, and you are sure it will be alright.

Alicent just squeezes Rhaenyra’s hand. The way she used to when she used to get the urge to pick at her hands. She looks around the room. Rhaenyra, now laying in the same bed her father did before her. Alicent just hopes the morbid memories of Viserys do not haunt her in the way Aemma’s ghost still haunts Alicent to this day.

Aemma was right, and they did not even know it at the time. The birthing bed was their battlefield. And it feels like it is all catching up to them.

It has been a few minutes since your parents welcomed you into their parents, and in those few minutes your mother has done nothing but pick at your hair and fret over your outfit.

The sun was at its height in the sky, brightness peaking through their windows. This morning you woke up, and did what have for the past couple of days. Remember your children are not there for you to kiss and hug, and look over at your sleeping husband. Multiple ways of smothering him popping into your head.

“Wearing your hair back makes you look so severe, my darling,” she fiddles with bun. Your hand goes up the move it way. “And grey is not slimming on everyone.”

“Yes mother,” you try to grin and bear like you have always done. Your resolve faltered when she gushed about how lovely of a father Aemond was for wanting the kids to spend more time with their uncle, the excuse the both of you had parroted whenever someone asked here Daella and Alaric were.

“I think it may be best, if both of you go back home,” you sit both of them down. “I just worry that things may get a bit hectic, and I would feel better if you both were far from it.”

They both give you a curious look. There is only so much you can say without giving all away. Your father gets up and pulls you to the side.

“There has been… rumblings,” he mutters. “About the Queen and her state.”

He chooses his words wisely. As if he was worried others are listening.

“I want you to know that whatever path may arrive. The full backing of the house is behind it. Your uncle and I will make sure of that. If there was a change in power.”

Tears pinch and sting your eyes. It should be reassuring but it only makes you realizing that backing comes at the whim of others. This will always come back to who is ruling, and who people think should rule.

That is why you married Aemond right? To be put in the best position for your house.

“Thank you, father.”

He kisses you on the cheek, before leaving. You turn towards your mother who sits on the bench in front of the bed.

“I do hope your little excursion has renewed your spirit,” she gets up. “Your husband seemed just beside himself after you left. No wife, no children around. I can only imagine how hard that was for him.” You just stand there as she comes towards you. She stares at you for a moment, taking in your new dark dress, and hair. You cannot tell if the look is unimpressed, or filled with sadness. Your mother’s faces tend to blur together into nothingness.

“Of course, that is what you took from it,” you mutter.

“What was that, lamb?” Another hand runs over your hair.

“Nothing, mother.”

Your mother laughs a bit, in that cold, jilted way she does. The joy never reaching her eyes.

“It’s always been that way. Sweet with him, distant with me.”

You stare at her in slight shock, slight mortification when she leans back. Is that how she’s read the situation? You choosing your father over her. Not the paralyzing fear that came with having to please her. The heart arching want to make her proud of you, even at the expense of your own wants.

“You made it that way. I - you sent me away to - to this place and -“

“Oh, here we go. You got married to a Prince, you had your babies, and I am still the evil mother.”

She bows her head as is she about to cry. Initiatively, you put a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re not evil,” you don’t understand how the conversation how switcher so fast. How now you have to the one to comfort her. “We just don’t see certain things the same way.”

An understatement.

“Mayhaps, I was never meant to be a mother,” she looks up, eyes dry. She says it so casually.

“What?”

“I should have taken the hint after the first miscarriage. But your father just begged and begged about wanting a child.”

You just watch in horror.

She runs another hand over your hair, nagging on the bun and frowns.

“Some women just aren’t meant to be mothers. Too headstrong for it, too weak for it,” there is an air of pity when she says it.

She leans in, and her breath hits your ears. “Be careful, my lamb. The softer the heart, the harder the fall.”

You swallow hard. She’s fed a poison that is hard to be weaned off.

— — —

Leaving the room, in a slight daze. Softly shuffling the opposite way of your chambers, and up the large stairs. You had promised Rhaenyra you would come see her soon.

The only thing that breaks you out the trance is the heavy footsteps of Daemon. You stop and lower your head in acknowledgment.

“My prince, I have not been able to catch you to give my condolence.”

Daemon hums. You’ve noticed how he walks around with Dark Sister attached firmly on his hip. Sometimes sheathed, other times unsheathed as he leans against as some sort of crutch.

“I suppose I should be sending you sorrows too,” a small smile on his face. You tilt your head in confusion.

“Your children.”

Your blood runs a bit cold.

“They are just with their uncle. Taking it the beauty of Oldtown. We want them to see many parts of the realm.”

“With Vermithor?”

You just nod. “You must know how important the bond is between dragon and dragon rider. More importantly during these early stages.”

Daemon’s mirth grows as he comes closer. “I do remember our conversation. About how your loyalty would be not only expected but rewarded. I would absolutely hate to see anyone get hurt, especially as our queen is recovering.”

You smile, brightly and sound.

“Of course, it would be quite a shame if anyone was putting their own needs ahead of Queen Rhaenyra’s. Those close to her must be diligent, and kind.”

The two of you exchange more fake smiles before he steps around you, sword glistening under the flicker of flames in the hallway.

Trying to compose yourself as you make your way to the master chambers. You are slightly relieved by the changes that were made by the time Rhaenyra arrived and settled in. The model Viserys spent even his last days speaking about that collected dust had been removed. Different drapes that let the sun in, the furniture moved around a bit, and the smell. Thank Gods, the smell was different.

The smell of rotting, and noxious air replaced by something a little sweeter. You know that Alicent would come in daily and light different incense for Rhaenyra.

The guards let you in, and she is still in the same place she, day after day, the large canopy bed. The bed you see Viserys lay in as you visit him with Daella and or Alaric.

“Rhaenyra,” you pull back the certain a bit, to let light in. “Have you eaten today?”

You walk over and lay a hand on her forehead. She is burning up. Her fever spiking again. All you get is a groan and the shake of the head.

“Rhaenyra, you need to eat something.”

She just gestures toward the table. Different tonics, drinks, and glasses on top of it. You walk over to see tea as well as a familiar milky substance on it.

You remembered seeing how Viserys was when he was on milk of the poppy. Hells, you understood the strength of it, and you only took it while having Daella and Alaric.

It was the beauty and ugliness of the drug once it was taken too much. The pain was gone, but then came a new problem - the grogginess of the mind and withdrawals.

“The Queen only needs five dops of it,” said the maester, a sour look on his face once asked to leave when you visited her a few days ago.

In all her paranoia, Rhaenyra had asked only those closest to her to help administer it. Not trusting the maesters the very same way she did when it came to Viserys. Out of part guilt of what she just went through, and frankly fear, you agreed when she asked you. But now, as you feel the tides changing once again for the battle for power, your hands shake a bit applying the remedy to her tea.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five….. Six. Seven. Eight.

Before you can change your mind, you a twist cap back on the milk of the poppy.

You walk back to the bed, giving a pale Rhaenyra a strained smile. “Let’s sit you up.”

Rhaenyra winces, eyes in a faraway stare as you help her lean up in the bed. The same bed she had been beholden to for the past week. You bring goblet to her lips and watch her all but chug most of it.

A part of you wants to say a prayer to the Father. Perhaps he will forgive you for all that will happen beyond this point. Understanding how stray animals often act when they are backed into a corner. Teeth bared and fighting for their lives.

She will name him Protector of the Realm if she stays abed any longer. Despite the mistreatment, Daemon has always had a way about him when it came to Rhaenyra. I have no way to stop it. Did not back then, and do not now.

Guilt only mounts when you think about the sadness in Alicent’s eyes when she said that. But then you think about your daughter’s laugh or the wide-eyed innocence of your son, and the guilt fades. All that is left is resentment. A deep hole where you think your heart used to be.

You have to shudder thinking about anyone from this family sitting the throne but at least you know some options are more… malleable than others.

“I can come back to give you more when you need it,” you brush a stray hair behind Rhaenyra’s ear. “Maybe I can read to you too.”

She gives you a tired smile, and nod before her eyes begin to flutter. You watch as her breathing labors as she drifts into a hazy state. In and out of sleep. Here she lays, a victim of the birthing bed like her mother. Ill equipped, and far too foolish to see the damage she will leave behind like her father.

“What is all of this?”

You walk into your chambers to find a table of food in the room. Aemond hops up from the bed. You take a look at the array of breads, and sweets on the table.

“All this for me,” you question, popping one of the lemon candies on a lemon cake in your mouth. “How romantic. The last time I had the pleasure of such a spread, you were telling me you got your mistress pregnant and it sent me into excruciating labor.”

Aemond face falls, and for a moment you understand what it has been like for him the past few years of marriage. To hold power over him, even if it is small and fleeting in the moment. Dangling kindness in front of his face to rip it away for no reason other than you can.

You continue to pick at the food, as Aemond just stares.

“Are you gonna say what this all about or just stare with that silly look on your face?”

His face flashes from sad stoicism something a bit angrier. Ah, that’s your husband.

“I am trying to mend things with you, and all I ge-“

“Oh, that is your first mistake,” you hold up a finger. “Well, not the first. You know your first. But trying to mend something that was never there to begin with? And with food that I could get myself. You’re smarter than that Aemond,” you tut at him.

“So, what now? We spend the rest of our days hating each other?”

If we even get that far.

“It has worked for others,” you shrug.

“It won’t for you,” he rebuts. “The hate will eat you alive. You’ll be miserable.”

Promise?

He speaks as if he is so sure of it. As like Helaena does at times, he has seen into a murky future, and pulled this out. You utterly miserable as you let that dark voice in your head play out all your morbid desires.

“But you would like that, wouldn’t you,” you think about the look he gave you when you wanted to reach for his knife. “Why else would you put through all of this but to make me as miserable as you are?”

It hang on the tip of your tongue. You could push you luck again, and tell him that she is gone, and never to be seen again. Twist the knife that you already have point at his back. But then you would have to be sure of things yourself. Dreams have dissolved into nightmares. Blood mixing the salty water of Dragonstone.

Then you wake and Otto’s words ring in your head. He took care of it. Now you are left trying to sort out the mess of memories that makes up your head. Guilt, anger, and sadness all managing fuck with your head in ways you could not imagine.

You eye the wine on the table. As much you admonish Aegon for it, you do get why he turned to it from such a young age.

The few hours of solace it gives is wonderful. Fleeting but necessary when everything else becomes too loud. Too much.

“It was not an absence in you. It was one in us… in me,” he looks so young when he says it. It almost reminds you of him when he ten and five. Fresh off a growth spurt. Terribly shy, terribly distant. But that was before. Before the expectation of marriage, of children and semblances of loyalty and care.

That boy is gone, and you are surely not the girl you were once you came to King’s Landing. You mourn that girl, the way you mourn the boy Aemond was before he lost his eye. You did not know him then but you always wonder what strings in him broke when that happened. An unjust act with no reconciliation to follow. If any of that led up to the man standing before you today.

“Well, at least that is something we can agree on,” you look down, trying to get rid of the hot tears in your eyes.

You have spent time trying to build up an armor in front of him. You’d hate to have it crack now.

“My grandsire told me about your little plan.”

It makes you look up. Aemond’s arms are crossed in skepticism.

“Your sister’s health is declining rapidly. Aegon needs to ready himself for this.”

“And he has agreed?”

“Your brother will fall in line as he realizes this is the only way to keep those dear to him safe,” you fiddle with the chocolate tart. “He already has actually.”

Helaena and him took a trip to one of the orphanages down in the Red Keep. It is about time people outside of this castle get a look at those in power. Aemond still does not look convinced.

“Does that upset you? The thought of him being king?”

“No more than it does having my useless sister or foolish nuncle on the throne.”

“What, no mention of the bastards technically in front you for the throne right now,” you think the joke falls flat till Aemond narrows his eye, and tilts his head to side in merriment. You have to do a bit of double take at the slight smirk on his face.

“You danced with one of those bastards.”

So, he remembers that.

“A tactical move,” you roll your eyes. “And when I advise Rhaenyra and Jacaerys that he should go back to Dragonstone as the new heir to the Irone Throne and Prince of Dragonstone, it would have payed off.”

“Leaving Rhaenyra as she’s abed, and stuck with Daemon? How would you manage that?”

“I can be quite convincing,” you shrug. “Not that you would understand.”

He takes another dig on chin, uncharacteristically good natured this day, but he gives you that look. The look where you don’t know whether he wants to skin you or kiss you. No one really has ever looked in the way Aemond has. As if he sees nothing of what you’re really made of while managing to look right through you at the same time.

“Better yet, I may even tell Baela and Rhaena that they should take this time to be with grandmother and grandfather, especially as Corlys may stand a similar fate as Rhaenyra.”

“What about the other one,” Aemond frowns.

Your brows furrow in confusion before it dawns on you. Both him and Lucerys had done a good job of avoiding each other since you all came back from Dragonstone. But you can tell the tiptoeing has created strain and awkwardness for everyone.

“If Baela and Jace are gone with Moondancer and Vermax in toe, that just leaves a clearly petrified Luke and Arrax. I think Vhagar, Sunfyre or Dreamfyre can handle that, no?”

Aemond raises a brow. “You want them to die?”

“I don’t want anyone to die,” well that’s not entirely true, and the look Aemond gives you lets you in that he does not believe that as well. “As few casualties as possible is the goal. They can swear to Aegon when the time comes or be put the King’s Justice. As of now, we should take advantage of the uncertainty that rest amongst everyone.”

Aemond laughs, like really laughs. It takes you for surprise, and only upsets you. He laughs as if he finds your thoughts funny in the way seeing a squirrel run up a tree is funny. “What?”

“Nothing…. Lady Hightower.”

You scoff and throw the pieces of the fruit on the table at him. “Fuck off.”

“You make those faces and turn up your nose at Aegon being king, but you and I both know you will be the first to defend his throne,” you throw a strawberry at him but this time he catches it and eats it. “This is all for the kids, right? It is why they are not here, away from their mother?”

“They are away from their father as well. For their safety.”

You just hum.

“I want to write to them. They did not even get to say goodbye.”

“That could be dangerous.”

“I do not care, Aemond,” you raise your voice.

There is a knock at the door and Quinton comes in with a note in his hand. He eyes the food on the table as you read the note. It is from your father, assuring you about your parents soon departure back to the Riverlands.

“Are you alright,” he whispers. You nod softly. Quinton had been hovering somewhere in the background whenever Aemond was around, especially with the children gone. Clearly not trusting him around you.

Quinton should probably be more worried you around him. His cape swishes behind him when he goes to leave the room.

“You can write to them when the timing is better,” Aemond continues once you two are alone again.

The timing is never right. Not with him, not the with situation you are in.

The end of ninth moon of 129 AC

As you walk down the hall, a soft hand brushes against your arm.

“Are sure you are alright,” Quinton’s voice rings in your head, and tickles your ears softly.

“Of course,” you give fake smile, tilt of the head. He stops in the middle of the empty hall. Though he is your sworn protestor, you feel it is best to keep Quinton on the fringes unless needed otherwise. The less he knows, the safer he is you assume.

“I know you are not well without your children around,” he sighs. “But I would not want you to… sully yourself with things before you can get back to them.”

Sully. You take a long look at Quinton. There is something sweet about the way he views you. Entirely too earnest at time but sweet. You wish you could tell him he had nothing to worry about, and meant it. The pedastal he puts you on, my would it be a hard and long fall.

“I appreciate the concern, but I am ok,”’you reach up to touch his cheek. “You will be the first to know.”

He gives a half-hearted nod before then both of you continue your way to Rhaenyra’s chambers. When you get there the maidservants are beginning to place lights out in the hall for the night.

When you walk in, Rhaenyra is perched where she has been for some time now. Fiddling with the books on the shelf in the corner of the room.

“Maybe something a bit more upbeat. A love story,” you whisper. You go sit next to her on bed, flipping through the large brown book in your hand.

Rhaenyra begins to mumble as you shush her softly.

“It’s ok,” you reach over for the cup next to her bed. Sniffing the cup, you take note of how differently it smells compared to the tea and milk of the poppy mixture you used to.

The tonic seems different, stronger than usual. You put it to her lips and watch Rhaenyra drink it. You wipe her mouth. Even if this weakened state, you find her tragically beautiful. Like a fallen Angel. She resembles her siblings in that regard.

“I need - I need,” her eyes flutter open and shut. “The Prince that was Promised.”

You frown.

“Aeg- Aegon…”

“Your brother?”

“Tell Jacaerys.”

She trails off. Your back straightens as you watch as Rhaenyra’s eyes close, and her breathing slow.

The Prince that was Promised… Aegon.

You lean down and kiss her forehead. Mayhaps, in another life things could’ve been different for her. For her siblings, for her children, for you… for your kids. Climbing off the side of the bed, you gently tuck Rhaenyra in.

When you walk out, you see Quinton standing at attention. You motion for him to come with.

“I need you to do go get Otto,” you mummer. “We have business to get to.”

You cannot see the look Quinton gives you as move to walk ahead of him, and to that you are grateful.

Sullying is your only other option.

In the tenth moon 129 AC, the bell connected to the Royal Sept tolled for thee.

The death of Queen Rhaenyra, First of her Name, sent ripples through the Realm. But that was just beginning of the great strife that would follow her passing. A years peaceful period of reign for the Targaryen family ended by infighting.

Histories will say the first problem came the moment the then Princess and heir decided to sire bastard heirs. Others would say it began the moment, Rhaenyra left her succession vulnerable to her young brother. Not ending his line the moment she had the chance to.

Throughout her short reign as queen, there were festering rumors of usurping. That Lord Otto Hightower would hold secret meetings planning for the best moment to strike to get his grandson son on the throne. Others dispirited this claim, saying that the Dowager Queen Alicent’s afflictions for Queen Rhaenyra would never let that happen.

Ironically, it was not the death of the Rhaenyra is not the official start of what would later be called the Dance of Dragons. Instead the death of Prince’s Aemond One-Eye Targaryen’s lady wife’s parents triggered the domino affect. An escalation of plans.

Most would say the overflipped carriage was a tragic accident, but others whispered about something more serious. An inside attack from a member of the Targaryen family themselves. It was this tragedy that led to a public outcry from the members of the house in the Riverlands, coupling with the public crowning of a new king.

It was Ser Criston Cole, member of the Kingsguard, who crowed King Aegon, Second of his Name, in a private ceremony. Only flanked by his new crowned Queen Helaena, Prince Aemond and his wife, and Lord Hightower. King Aegon was crowned in front of the septon of faith, dawning his namesakes crown.

Back on Dragonstone, Jacaerys Velaryon recieved the news of not only his mother’s death, but also the usurping. Except it was not allies with the news, but foes. Jacaerys was slain at the footsteps of the castle.

It is still debated which side has more to gain to having Jace out of the way. King Aegon or Prince Daemon. But in the end, it was the later who eventually set up him home base at Dragonstone. Fleeing under the watchful eye of his spies in the Red Keep. With only two of his sons with him.

Both sides strategizing their moves. Daemon labeling Aegon and his supporters traitors to the realm, while Aegon set out to kill his uncle himself in given the chance. Under the insistence that it was him who accerlated Rhaenyra’s already bad condition.

Support the amongst the realm split as some supporter the efforts of the new king, far more open to his tactics than one of the Rogue Prince or Rhaenyra’s Bastards. While others scoffed at the boldness of Aegon the Usurper.

Those called on the opinions of the sons that remained at King’s Landing. Rumors of the Lucerys and Joffrey Velaryon being chained arriving. But it was not Daemon who negotiated the release of the boys. It was members of House Velaryon.

But there was one condition. It would be Baela and Rhaena, of both House Targaryen and Velaryon, that recieved equal titles after the passing of Corlys. Lucerys would be stripped of title of heir to the Driftmark Throne. It was rumored that this was not a cruel twist of fate from team green, but instead a plea from Lucerys himself.

It was Rhaena Targaryen, in all her wisdom, that worked through the terms. With a heavy heart, and no more bloodshed in her pleas. The more bold sister of the twins, Baela, had other plans. Sensing the release of Lucerys and Joffrey was a trap. She climbed on top of Moondancer, despite the calls not, and made her way closer to King’s Landing herself. But she was not alone. Her grandmother was with her.

Never one to sit from a battle himself, it was King Aegon who climbed his dragon to take them both on. All three dragon and riders fought diligently. Moondancer sustaining life ending injuries, while both Sunfyre and Aegon were injured at battle. But the most costly lost came at the hand of the One-Eyed Prince himself. Taking out Rhaenys and Meleys before further injury could come to his brother.

Enraged at the news of the death of Moondancer, and the almost costly lost of Baela, Daemon began his March. But he also had other plans at play. In efforts to lure the new Prince Regent out of the castle, he sent spies to Oldtown. Where not only Prince Daeron worked with all of Reach to support King Aegon. But also where the young Prince watched over his younger nieces and nephews.

There was an attempt to take the Jaehaerys Targaryen, son of Aegon and Alaric Targaryen, son of Aemond. But the plan was thwarted by a terrible beast. Vermithor lurched and lured over Oldtown like a tower himself. His flames as green as the Hightower Beacon. Highly protective over his new rider and those close to her. At just six and seventh month, Daella Targaryen was feared as her father.

Still not wanting to be outdone, Daemon sets his sights towards not only Harrenhal, but another certain house in the Riverlands. His march pillaging those close to Aemond’s wife. Still grieving the lost of parents and seperated from her children, it was rumored the lady became more quiet, drowning herself in her cups.

It was she, with Queen Mother Alicent and Queen Helaena, who pleaded for Aemond to not take the bait. But it was too no vail. After he heard of the attempted kidnapping, he set out with men of his own.

His march mirroring his uncle’s not only through the Stormlands but as well as the Riverlands. There were whispers of inhabitants at Harrenhal. It is still speculated by both Daemon and Aemond did not burn the structure to the ground, when they had to chance. Tales would be written of a certain magic soiling the ground. Keeping safe from harm.

Though those tales are all rumors, what was undeniably true, is that two Targaryen princes breathed their last breaths over God’s Eye on the sixth moon of 130 AC. No one saw the battle, but the sound of snapping dragons and the sight of green and red flames that called attention.

Vhagar and Aemond both fought a valiant effort but it the wounds to both proved to be to substantial. Aemond Targaryen died on top of his crowned dragon. The burns from Vhagar burning Daemon beyond repair.

When their deaths made it back to the Red Keep, the halls recount the Queen Mother tearing her hair in anguish, calling for the deaths of not only everyone who supported Daemon, but Aegon the younger and Viserys alike.

A story of crowns and iron thrones whittled down to death and fire. The grief felt by team green only compounded by the body of Aemond’s lady wife found charred in their chambers. It was Ser Quinton, her sworn protector, who lived to tell the story of having to fight off several guards before it was too late. In a matter of days, Daella and Alaric Targaryen missing from their places in Oldtown.

Both jobs speculated to be last minute plans carried about for Daemon Targaryen, done by his loyal Gold Cloaks. It is said that King Aegon never fully recovers from the death of not only his brother, but his good sister. Punishing those he deems responsible once he comes to.

But there are merchants in Essos that believe they have spotted a beautiful lady hand in hand with her children. One with sparkling white hair, the other with blonde streaks through her dark curls.

taglist: @florent1s @floraroselaughter @afro-hispwriter @snh96@holy-minseok @voniikg @evienorville @tremendouswolfsaladranch @crispmarshmallow @strawbrryquinn @widemiffyhappy @msmarvel-19 @dc-marvel-girl96 @xkennobi @fanfics4ever@hydrationqueensworld @lyra689 @blazzlynch @httyd-marauders@bregarc @b00kdiary @grey-water-colors @mercedesdecorazon@flowerpotmage @bstorn @poisonedsultana @papery-maniac @its-sam-allgood @yu3kkii @hvx @leoramage @neenieweenie@stargaryenx @rey26 @lazypinkpig @blackravena @s0urmarvel@elleclairez @rebelfleur22 @inpraizeof @luvremlu @clora95@blacpiink @let-love-bleeds-red @iwanttohitmyself @alastorhazbin@kitkat-writes-stuff @carrielle @aloneatpeace @ensolleildelune@landlockedmermaid77 @deadunicorn59

#im truly screaming crying throwing up about this being done #I hope y’all enjoy this and thank you again #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #aemond fic #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond imagine #prince aemond #aemond x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond x oc

298 notes · View notes

foodsies4me · 5 months ago

Text

July Malec fic rec!

Thanking the ever talented and wonderful @lawsofchaos1 for letting me barge in the DM’s to ask for help for this month's theme! This time the theme is a double one aka parabatai-feels/Alec&Jace friendship and religious themes! The same rules apply as always, one fic per author, even though all of these authors have other brilliant fics you should be reading and if you want to add your own recs in the comments, tags, or reblogs please feel free to do so! 💜

Also, I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know (aka found on their AO3 profile), but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.

One-shots:

3 Times Jace Feels Alec’s Happiness by fancyachatup: Just like the title says, three times Jace feels Alec being happy through their parabatai bond.

Summary:

3 times Jace realizes that Magnus is the best thing that's ever happened to Alec.

I cannot touch because they are too near by @faejilly: Still one of my favourite fics about the parabatai bond to date!

Summary:

If Magnus is going to love Alexander (which of course he is) then he's going to have to understand his parabatai and their bond, at least a little bit better than he does now. But he's not entirely sure how or where to start...

The Oddities of Sharing a Soul by @facialteeth: Another lovely Magnus learning some more about the parabatai-bond and what it means fic. Cute and fluffy and definitely recommended.

Summary:

Magnus goes to visit Alec and learns from Isabelle that there are some odd features to having a Parabatai Bond.

and miles to go before I sleep by ralf: Magnus meeting his kids in the past. This fic is just adorable and reading it never fails to bring a smile to my face.

Summary:

“Alec, can you come to the Institute?” That's Clary's voice, coming through the line in a low whisper. Alec tenses instantly. “What is it?” “It's Jace.”

Parabatai by SilasSolarius: A more eldritch as well as a queer platonic approach to the parabatai bond! Also, Ragnor lives because of course he does!

Summary:

Summary: Parabatai. Everyone, even downworlders were aware of the most sacred of the Nephilim's bonds, and yet very little is known about it. As far as most are concerned, the bond is merely a fancy way of calling each other brothers-in-arms, or best friends. Yet in reality, it is so much more. Ragnor Lives! AU

Multi-Chapters or Series

Angelus ex Machina by @bluemeridian: Rec-ced by lawsofchaos1, but I will 120% rec this series as well because it is just avdnz’gj’z’glg I love it so much, the way they parabatai bond is described is exquisite.

Summary:

Demons have disappeared from the city and the local Shadow World has discovered the hard way that the only thing worse than demons is an institute of Shadowhunters with no demons to fight. But that situation is (hopefully) temporary. The whole thing with the parabatai bond being weird is something else entirely.

Take Me To Church by j_writes: I don’t’ know how to describe this fic other than I love it, that’s all.

Summary:

Alec is the acting head of the Institute trying to deal with the new pressures this title brings. A string of Mundane murders and strange demonic markings leads him to seek help from the nearest High Warlock, Magnus Bane. Upon meeting him, Alec realizes that his secret is at risk of being revealed. He tries to keep his growing attraction for Magnus hidden as best as he can. With the support of his sister, Isabelle, who is trying to find love herself; they both try to discover if they can let their worries go and accept love with open arms.

The Whipping Boy (orphan account): This fic hurts. It just hurts.

Summary:

1. a boy brought up together with a young prince and required to take the punishment for the latter's misdeeds 2. scapegoat

The burden of command is one Alec shoulders gladly. When protecting his family has always meant taking responsibility for their actions, he's had a lifetime to prepare.

It's the one thing he's good at. The one thing about himself he knows is worthy.

So, of course, Magnus and his siblings hate it.

The truth written on our souls by @to-the-stars-writing: Immortal Alec meets good parabatai Jace meets some religious imaginary meets magic gone wrong and worldbuilding which are the two things that make me go feral above all, so yessss!

Summary:

Be careful what you wish for.

That was a saying that was something most people threw around in a teasing sort of way. Something to chide another with, maybe, after something goes wrong. But when dealing with magic there were no truer words. Be careful what you wish for was a very clear warning. One that Alec had heard Magnus lament over people not heeding so many different times.

Today was only further proof of that.

They’d come into this planning on doing a spell to give Alec immortality. They’d done their research, prepared themselves as best they could, but they’d forgotten that basic tenant. Be careful what you wish for.

Holding Angels by @echo-bleu (Hi Echo, I love you💜💜💜): Alec tells the Clave he made the wish and not Clary. This fic hurts and is painful and I love it.

Summary:

The decision is anything but easy, but it’s simple. It’s suddenly limpid in Alec’s head, like this is the moment he’s been waiting for his whole life.

(He tries not to think about how morbid that thought is.)

“I would have done the same,” he repeats. She sniffles against his chest.

“In fact,” he continues, pushing her back gently to look at her, “that’s exactly what I did, as far as the Clave is concerned.”

Alec tells the Clave he's the one who made the Wish.

Laudanum by @lawsofchaos1 that I couldn’t not rec. (Sorry, Laws you had to know this was coming when you mentioned religious imaginary). While I generally try to limit myself to complete fics, this fic has had me by the jugular for years now and I am obsessed.

Face blank, Alec steps forward without a moment of hesitation to stand in front of the Inquisitor, his people parting respectfully before him to clear his path as he goes. He comes to a halt a few paces in front of the Clave representative and the guardsmen she’d brought from Alicante. A coiled leather whip hangs from the belt of the man at her left shoulder.

Shoulders drawn back and hands clasped behind his waist, Alec meets Imogen Herondale’s steel gaze. The words are ritual and although Alec has said them many times before, never before has he meant them less.

“That it may please the Angel to bring back into the way of righteousness all such as have erred, I place myself before you for Discipline.”

Imogen Herondale smiles.

#Malec fic rec #I have managed to do seven of these #Be proud of me #actually pulling through with something for a change #(We are not mentioning the month is halfway done shhh)

39 notes · View notes

pastel-nature · 2 years ago

Text

My Pretty Little Bastard (Part 3 - Final)

Yandere!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

A/N: All characters in this fic have been properly aged up to 18+. I tried different format for the final part, I hope you guys like it.

You can read Part 1 and 2 here:

TW: ABUSE, targcest (uncle and niece), NONCON, character DEATH.

"Princess?" The voice called out to you, belonging to a man you had never seen before. Instinctively, you looked around for someone, anyone, to be by your side. But there was no one. No guard, no maid, not even Aemond.

"Princess, do not fear. I have been sent by your father and mother. You must come with me."

You shook your head and clutched your belly tight, your eyes wide with fear. Why would they send someone like him? They could come and get you themselves, or have your brothers come and pick you up.

But the man declared himself a knight loyal to House Targaryen and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. And as he spoke, dread filled your heart as he told you of the deaths of your brothers and the war that has been raging for months. Months.

Jace died in a battle above the sea, your twin brother, set to be King, the boy attached to you by the hip, grown into a young man you barely knew. One who was set to inherit the iron throne. His life snuffed just so by barrages of arrows.

Luke, your little Luke, who praises your gentleness and beauty, who follows you with his hand clutched on your gown. You barely talked to him since he grew into a young man, and now you never will, your husband and Vhagar made sure of that.

Baby Viserys, slobering and cooing in your arm, the babe you have seen but once in your life. Gone, swallowed by the sea.

"Your mother is queen now," the knight told you, as if that would somehow heal the gaping hole in your heart. A heart that yearned to turn back time, to run to the comfort of your twin, to run your fingers through the dark curls of your valonqar, and beg your mother to let you stay. To confess that all you wanted in this life was for your mother to say, "Peace be damned, my daughter will stay by my side.” Fight back that one-eyed monster that took you away from your home.

But it was all a blur that day. You remember being held and led through a dark, muddy tunnel, away from the heat and chaos and the tangy smell of blood. The knight led you through the forest next to the castle, and you ran through the darkness together.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you sensed your deranged husband had caught a whiff of your presence. You had not seen him, but his taunts and laughter told you all you needed to know. The threat of death, violence, and abuse loomed before you. But when you turned around, all you saw was darkness. You quickened your pace, trying to outrun the danger behind you.

Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, a loud roar echoed through the trees. You froze in fear, realizing that you were being chased not just by your husband, but by Vhagar as well. The dragon's wings slowly beat the air behind you, and you saw its humongous outline in the dark sky as thunder briefly illuminated the night.

You had been abandoned, a running theme in your life it seemed, the loyal knight turned tail and ran at the sight of the colossal dragon flying above. Now you were lost in the dense forest with no idea where to go.

You could hear the dragon's wings slowly beating the air behind you, and you saw its glowing eyes in the darkness. You knew you couldn't outrun it. You were tired and couldn't go on.

Just when you thought it was all over, you heard your husband's triumphant laughter. He dismounted Vhagar and grabbed your arm, his grip tight and painful. You tried to pull away, but he was too strong.

"You're coming back with me," he growls, his eye blazing with madness. "You're mine, and you'll never leave me again."

You struggle and plead, but it's no use. Aemond drags you back to the castle and throws you into a dark room. Your husband pins you down on the bed, his mockery echoing in your ears.

"What use do you think they'll have for you, huh? Run back to Dragonstone? And what? Claim a dragon and ride to war to avenge your brothers? A pretty little bastard like you has no use for a dragon."

You stare at him in horror, unable to comprehend the monster he has finally unleashed. "You killed my brother," you state, your voice shaking. There's a part of you that wishes to act in disbelief, but you always knew who Aemond truly was. When the knight told you of his heinous deed, you didn't question him for a second, because you knew that your husband was certainly capable of such a heinous act.

"It was easy," your husband says, his smile turning into a sneer. "The craven bastard owed me an eye."

"You know, it's a shame that you're not even a real princess," your husband continued his taunts, "unworthy of the throne and titles."

Suddenly, Aemond's hands shot out towards your neck, his fingers twisted into tight fists. You screamed and thrashed, clearly no match for his strength.

"Aem..nd.. Plea..se…" you choked out with tears streaming down.

But Aemond just cackled, a harsh, guttural sound that sent shivers down your spine. His hands squeezing tighter and tighter around your neck, cutting off air supply.

You gasped for breath, vision growing darker and darker, running out of time. His hot breath trailed your neck as he dragged you below him.

Reprieve was given when his right hand ventured away from your neck to rip apart your gown and bodice. Once the deed is done his fingers dig its way to your entrance, painfully stretching you. You fought with every ounce of strength left, but it was no use. This is not your first time, nor twice, nor dozenth, you had been all too familiar that in the end there is no way out.

"Yet here I am, a rightful born son," he continues, in sync with his cruel thrusts, "It is I who studies history and philosophy, it is I who trains with the sword, it is I who rides the largest dragon in the world, it is I who willingly marries a lowly, ungrateful, foolish bastard to appease father.” Each word brings him closer to his own pleasure.

“It is I who should be king." There, looming over you, Aemond Targaryen, in his purest form.

You feel a surge of anger and pain at his words. He's right, all of it. The circumstances of your birth, your family, his pride, his efforts, and his ambition. All of these things you knew to be true, especially regarding your foolishness.

A foolish little bastard with no dragon to rely on. You curse yourself.

In a sudden shift of mood, Aemond stands up and lights the fireplace. The warmth envelops your senses as he returns to bed, draping his arms over you and peppering your temple with kisses.

"You will come around," he says. "We belong together, you, me, and our child, no matter what. And once your mother is out of the way, we can rule. Together." He takes your hand in his and gently caresses your stomach with his other hand.

The fire licks at the logs, its shadows dancing along the edges of the room. You feel a sense of strength coursing through your veins, encouragement like never before. You know the risk you're taking, but at this point, you also know all too well the things you will continue to suffer if you stay in Aemond's clutches.

"I have to go somewhere," Aemond says, donning his linen shirt. But you stop him midway.

"Don't," you say, holding his hand. "Together, you said. Then let us be, even for a while."

And so that is how the two of you fall asleep together, your breaths rising and falling as one. Or at least, that's how it should be. During your captivity, you learned two things that could save you from Aemond's wrath: one is to avoid him, and the other is to pretend to fall asleep. Skills that you had perfected just as he perfected his machinations.

As the evening began, there was fire, commotion, screams of pain, and the smell of burnt flesh. Even as you sat far away in the edges of the dark forest, the warmth and brightness of the fire bathed you still. You couldn't help but let out a deep sigh of contentment, finally finding solace in the peaceful glow of the flames and relishing the chance to sit and watch the chaos in peace.

You had no dragon, pretty little bastard don’t need one.

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who had left kind replies, reblogs, and likes. See you on the next fic!

#aemond #targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #hotd imagine #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #house of the dragon x reader #yandere #yandere aemond #yandere aemond x reader #tw yandere #tw toxic relationship #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic

501 notes · View notes

iaus · 5 months ago

Text

so. the nature of epilogue made it really hard to hammer home the fact that. while porter did care about jace he was pulling strings. he was lining jace up to be his perfect little pet sorcerer.

and part of it i think is that i had to cut porter's reaction/discovery of jace's spell thiefing (which is a homebrew boss mechanic i made specifically for jace... and will be borrowing)

eli. if you read this i'm doing bad things to your new adopted wyrmling.

also i go over some mechanical stuff that... justifies jace to me. if you don't wanna read that skip to the giant ANYWAY.

and also. this post. is a doozy and i cannot tell how coherent it is tbh. so uh. if you read the whole thing. i love you.

first thing's first. this "stealing" that jace does was literally me saying fuck rules as written i HATE rules as written i want jace to have cool powers that porter would have IMMEDIATELY been interested in and wanted under his control.

the long and short i have jace as a level 20 divine sorcerer with a unique action that i have crafted. just for him. because if he's not porter's specialest sorcerer he's mine.

Spell Thief 3/Long Rest

You harness the source of your magic and use it to rip a spell from the Weave itself. This is considered extremely dangerous to you and those around you. You do not require components for the spell you steal, unless using this to resurrect a dead creature. The spell you steal does not have to be from your class list but 1) cannot be a spell you currently know 2) cannot be a spell higher than your casting level. (For example, a 5th level caster cannot use this to manifest the Wish spell.) With DM’s discretion, you can use this to steal higher level spells, but this may incur grievous consequences. The first time you use this feature priming the spell is a DC [10+Spell Level] spell check. Upon each success or failure, the DC raises by 5+Spell Level. To use this feature, roll a primer check [1d20 +Spell Casting Modifier +Proficiency] to see if you can manifest the spell. Whether the spell is successfully stolen or not, roll a CON saving throw at the end of your turn to determine the cost of your spell. Use the table provided below to determine the price.

i won't put the table in but the consequences vary from everyone around you has to roll a dex saving throw or take take [Spell Level Summoned] d20 + [Spell Level Summoned] force damage (the sorcerer always fails this save) to you can never cast the spell you stole again to you permanently lose spell slots to there are actually no physical draw backs (20+ save).

so as you can see this is a pretty fucking powerful ability. i'm going to be using it for a boss fight later in my campaign.

but anyway. giving jace this ability automatically makes him interesting to porter. it gives porter a reason to actually pursue jace (besides finding him attractive because i find porter being desperately attracted to jace so funny all the time, sorry man).

ANYWAY.

the (multiple) cut scene(s) i have from chapter 11 is one that gives a lot more detail to porter first bringing up that he knows about what happened to jace in college. but. due to how epilogue is written and presented it was JANKY. like it did not mesh well at all there was no reason for jace to think about what happened in college even IF it was a flashback with porter. the other thought was to have jace pass out after using his spell thief ability and to have a dream about rage!porter we saw in the finale.

this also felt janky and i didn't want to do any more dream scenes after chapter 6.

but this leads to these two cut instances of porter (in their first year of hooking up, because. though they don't really gel imo my first fic does lead into/happen in the same universe). i'm gonna put both of them here to kinda see what i was working with and to show why this ultimately got cut.

version 1 (scene that got cut quickly because the tone didn't match):

Jace had hummed, thought to say something snippy like speak for yourself, but stayed quiet and let himself relax in Porter’s hands. He wasn’t sure how long they had sat like that before Porter ruined it by saying, “Wanted to ask you something.” The memory of the incident—as Jace had taken to calling it during his later years at Aguefort—was fuzzy at best. The campus police reports filed were much more detailed. He had told Porter as much at the time, mood souring as he pulled back. “If you’re that fucking curious just pull up the paperwork. It’s easy enough to find. Especially since you’re a fucking adventurer.” “Hold on—we don’t have to talk about it.” Porter had sounded remorseful. As if he actually regretted upsetting Jace. He still pulled back. The blue and white snowflakes illuminated a dark look on Porter’s face. “Listen—” “I need to go home.” “Let me drive you.”

and version 2 (which almost made it into the final draft):

This—whatever volatile, greedy thing inside him made it possible to do this—it seemed no one could take it from him. Porter had asked him about it once that first year they knew each other—had tried to play sweet at the Moonar Yulenear party and told Jace he had wanted his help on a faculty adventuring quest over the break. You were flagged when I tried to add you to the roster, Porter had said with a frown, said you were… what was the list called. Jace had left the party—drove home tipsy and ignored Porter’s calls and messages for the next three days. He’d been intent on ignoring Porter the entire break until he showed up at Jace’s townhouse with a coffee and breakfast sandwiches. Didn’t think you were gonna be rid of me for three weeks, did you? He’d been charmed. And Porter didn’t ask about the list again.

i am kind of disappointed that this ultimately was decided to be not.... jace enough to make it into the final draft but. what i'm about to say is going to reveal WHY it could not make it into the final draft:

porter, to me, is a little too... overt. almost creepy in theses scenes (which i was angling for). but for the context of epilogue where jace is romanticizing and pining for this idealized porter he has in his head... it didn't work.

this is porter angling to get something from jace. he's fishing for information about what jace did in college and whether jace felt remorse over it or not, he shuts it down and porter then has a reaction to it. in version 1 even jace manages to notice a "dark look" and this is in their first year of being a situationship!

this is a little peek into what epilogue porter actually was. it's really hard to get a read on him in epilogue since he is a memory/ghost for the entire story and we are viewing him in this hopeless, searching for meaning jace who cannot see himself without this man who has abused, used, and killed him. he is coping by only remembering the good things about porter-- he is seeing porter as a man who loved him so much he had to kill him, who wanted jace so much that he was doomed to never leave.

it's what he's always wanted-- no one has ever wanted him like this, chased him like this. but the problem is we can't see porter's thoughts in this. as author of this horrid little universe i know the approximate truth that these two unreliable men hold for each other and i can say that i do think porter loves jace. he sees it as love, but there's a lot of dark shit. a lot of isolating, patronizing, possessive unhealthy ownership happening that makes it, imo, inevitable for jace to break down the way he does.

he doesn't want the reader to see that in epilogue though.

he wants to frame this as a i need to get back the only person in my life who loves and gives a shit about me.

but in his need to do this, he glosses over really dark shit about porter and their relationship.

to continue that version 1 scene a little:

Porter rubbed the curve of his hip and smiled indulgently. “C’mon, Jace. I’m being a considerate coworker.” That had made it worse, somehow. “Sober me up. You do it all the time.” “Tapped out—some of the seniors got rowdy last period.” Jace rolled his eyes. “Fine. Take me home. One condition.” Porter hummed, still rubbing circles along Jace’s hip. “No. Asking me about.” He waved his hands vaguely. Porter had agreed, then stood and tucked Jace under his arm. Told everyone they passed: Stardiamond’s cut off. Just looking out for him. “You,” Jace had announced as Porter fiddled with the climate control. “Did that on purpose.” Porter grinned at him. “It’s winter break. Everyone will forget about it.”

[...]

“It was an accident,” Jace finally said, head feeling unfortunately clearer. He recognized the streets. They weren’t going downtown; they were still in Tillering—winding the streets to Porter’s house. “It was… like a wild magic surge.” Porter had stayed quiet, keeping his eyes on the road. Snow was finally beginning to fall (what a strange detail to remember so clearly). Despite the empty roads, Porter signaled his turn and as he was slowly easing onto his street he finally spoke: “Didn’t think you were that kind of sorcerer.” “I’m not.”

i think this is a perfect example of the kind of read flags jace was ignoring and the kind of red flags he wouldn't want in his narrative. (there's a reason this scene is cut.)

porter does a few notable things here, right:

ignores jace's boundaries- jace puts distance between them. porter ignores it and grabs him. intimately. and continues the contact.

porter tells everyone he's taking jace home. something jace doesn't want (especially since this would be like 5 months into them fooling around.)

he then, instead of taking jace to his townhome, takes jace to his own house. when he knew jace didn't want to go there.

like. jace doesn't react to these- he sees them as flattering in a way. but it's bad. porter starts this shit early and it doesn't stop. jace just doesn't tell us about it in epilogue because he doesn't deem it good enough for his narrative of the man who wanted him so bad he was willing to sacrifice him and bringing him back all wrong.

also... in chapter 6 jace does give the tiniest nod to porter and this whole college situation but it never comes up again because jace doesn't think it's important outside of his dream:

How strange to think that Porter had known about that in this moment. Had that been what made Porter pick him?

he knows porter knew about his spell thief ability. we just don't get to understand it until much later.

THIS LITERALLY WENT NOWHERE I'M SORRY. but let me leave you with a cut bit that almost made it into the final draft and that i now regret cutting, but hope you can see why i felt it necessary to cut:

He wonders. Would Porter have been excited at the prospect of Jace’s talents if he had told him that night? Would he have asked in hushed tones if Jace could still do that. Could he still steal magic—rip spells that weren’t his out of the weave itself? Would Jace have seen earlier the way Porter might have wanted to use him? Porter had never been shy about saying how he loved Jace’s magic—loved watching him use it, loved how powerful he knew Jace would be. I’ll make you more than you are, Porter had whispered in his ear one night as he pressed Jace into the mattress. Imagine it, pet. Jace stares at the spot of blood on his carpet—aware of the ache in his bones, the blood under his fingernails and wonders, faintly: Did Porter ever want him? Was it always his magic? Did it matter? He thinks. Porter had felt so inevitable. Does it matter? He gets up. There’s one way to find out.

#.txt #.writing #uhhhhhh #i don't think this makes sense #and it's not really what i meant to write but.#enjoy? if you read it?#epilogue tag #calling this the porter is a creep but jace doesn't want YOU to think that the meta #i'm half joking

24 notes · View notes

slexenskee · 1 year ago

Note

can i ask for any details about the hotd/jjk fic?

you mean aside from this lil WIP snippet?

I think I'm gonna call it "Write myself out of the history books" a line from All Time Low to match the rest of my 'Dropping Gojo into fandoms he didn't ask to be in' works 😂

His name is Soren and let's just pretend its Valyrian when in actuality it's just one of my favorite Fire Emblem characters (I feel like Gojo would appreciate that though, prolly a Soren stan himself lol)

His dragon hatches in his crib and idk I headcanon that Rhaenyra would wait to let him name it himself because she probably did the same with Syrax? But then 2 yr-old Gojo is like 'her name is Blue Eyes White Dragon' and Rheanyra is like 'wtf no' and also, this is why you shouldn't let kids name their own damn dragons. Rhaenyra refuses to let him name his dragon after what she doesn't realize is a Yu-gi-oh card, and in they settle for Sylvion, which she thinks is just some obscure Valyrian word/reference his 'Uncle' Daemon taught him, but is in fact a Pokemon that bears striking resemblance to his dragon. It's one of Dreamfyre's eggs, mostly bright white, with blue accents and some slight pink in the membranes, hence, Sylvion. Which is also Gojo's favorite pokemon, so he's two for two with references in this life.

He knows damn well that Daemon is not his Uncle, and they (Rhaenyra, Daemon, Laenor) all know he knows even if they collectively don't acknowledge it. He's Daemon and Rhaenyra's 'accidental brothel baby' that she had to get shotgun wedding'd to Laenor for, which is why he's much older than canon-Jace.

The age gaps are: Satoru/Soren (0), Aegon (+2), Helaena (-1), Aemond (-2), Jace (-3), Luke (-4) idk if Joff or Daeron will be in this.

Aegon is in love with him literally at first sight. He's going to PINE FOREVER. Like so much angst when he realizes he doesn't just adore his nephew in a purely platonic sense - which his mother/grandfather already dislike - but is in fact homosexually and audaciously in love with him lol. He definitely tries to fuck himself out of his own gayness, which absolutely does not work, esp when he starts ending up gravitating to regular female whores to male whores who all bear a striking resemblance to his nephew.

Does Gojo know? Hmm yes but not really. It doesn't even cross his mind even though he is also very gay, and also knows incest is casually a normal thing in the Valyrian family. But to him, Aegon is his uncle, and also a man in a 'don't say gay' world, so he kind of intentionally doesn't look too deeply into it. He does notice Egg is very attached to him, but he's not sure how much of that is familial and platonic and just Egg's very handsy personality versus romantic. They played a lot together as kids, slept in the same bed etc back when they were young enough it didn't mean anything, and obviously Gojo never felt that way about what he thought was a 'cute sticky dumpling of a kid who thinks he hung the moon' so it'll be a longgg and difficult shift for him to see Egg in any other way.

Aemond worships him in a strictly platonic sense that totally feeds his god complex. Gojo is literally the warrior reborn to him. He's a one man army and everyone knows it and he's so out of any mortal's league instead of being jealous about it Aemond just straight up adores him like a god. Daemon and Laena don't get together in this fic (RIP Baela and Rhaena) so Laena is still alive and has Vhagar, so idk maybe Aemond has Vermithor.

On a related note, everyone worships him as a god (or a Valyrian devil, *ahem* Hightowers *ahem*) bc to them he may as well be one. He has all his OG powers, he's invincible and untouchable and literally unstoppable. He achieves infamy the world over during Stepstones Round 2 where he absolutely obliterates an entire army and a few islands besides. He straight up asks his 'grandfather' Corlys if he should just eradicate the whole island chain and permanently solve the problem. Of course, the story gets convoluted with the whole medieval 'he said she said' chain of communication so there are plenty of non-believers still. LOL jokes on them.

He adores Rhaenyra. Like he likes Laenor a lot, and is partial to his little brothers (yes Jace and Luke exist, idk if they're Laenor's or Daemon's yet tho. They would't be Harwins bc Rhaenyra took one look at Gojo and was like 'shit he's 100% Valyrian its gonna look weird as hell if his siblings dont look like him at all') and has a soft spot for his 'Uncle' Daemon, but the reason he even bothers to stick around and not just fuck off to Essos to raise his own empire is because of her. I headcanon Gojo to have zero relationship with his parents in JJK - which unfortunately is expected from 'the patriarch' aka his father, but deeply hurt him in regards to his mother, who also cared nothing for him. Yes total double standard, but that's patriarchy for you. Anyway Rhaenyra is the opposite - she cherishes him from day 1, and whether that's because she truly loved him at first sight or just loved the idea of a child of hers and Daemon's who knows. But she doted on him and took care of him in a way anomalous for mother's in Westeros, and Gojo always took note of that. He'd burn the world for her - or in this instance, cower it into submission so she can have her throne in peace.

He doesn't mind playing the 'radiant prince' for her, being the faultless and impossibly perfect heir to the throne, because he knows it strengthens her claim immeasurably when his achievements so obviously outshine her direct competitor (Egg, who in fact does not give a shite about the throne and just wants to run away on his dragon with Soren). He even quietly submits himself to the idea of taking a wife because he knows that's also expected of him, although he plans on copying Laenor and having some threesome magic going on. Will that have to come to pass though? Hmm idk yet

THERE WILL BE ZOMBIES. No Night King, but I absolutely believe that Gojo accidentally would become the Prince who was Promised. His birth once again upsets the balance of yet another world, and shifts events into motion that would have laid dormant otherwise. Does he bring magic back into world with his birth? That would be interesting. Idk yet tho.

I also believe in the Maester conspiracy, so that might be in this fic too

#HOTD fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo satoru

88 notes · View notes

j2zara · 4 months ago

Note

hello janelle zukkacore j2zara, its a long time coming but i would like to be a part of clone enjoyers anonymous bc im v interested in their dynamics and i really like ur drawings of the clones :3

i am however, overwhelmed on where to start learning abt them and i was hoping u could point me to the right direction since i pretty much see u as the president of clone enjoyers thank u so much ily 💖

HI FRIEND WELCOME TO THE CLONE ENJOYERS!!!!! WE'D LOVE TO HAVE YOU! THIS WAS GETTING WIELDY SO I SPLIT IT INTO TWO PARTS

PART ONE + TWO OF CLONE LORE IS HERE

Part 1 is basics of Clone Lore. Part 2 is me shamlessly reccing my fanfic to understand the context. Tbh I'd start with part 1 first or the doc

I've also compiled Clone Lore into a Google doc: it contains all the information from the first post and this post. I might include elaborations later (i was too exhausted to get fully into LJ3. But i feel bad neglecting it).

Anyway. I'm probably gonna link Clone Primer into my pinned post so that people can come back to it.

And I wanna emphasize. I 100% get how insular this is so if you're confused please feel free to ask!!! I have no problem explaining things. I love to talk. I talk way too much. Ask anyone. b/c like. I feel bad that this is gonna look super intimidating.

SO here's the rest of Clone Primer

PART 3: CLONE PRIMER - ELABORATION ON THE BASICS + WEIRD INSULAR INFO + ME RECAPPING FIC CONCEPT STUFF

[I WOULD SKIP THESE OR COME BACK TO THEM LATER IF YOU WANNA GO INTO THE FICS UNSPOILED BUT IF THE SUMMARY IS SUPPLANTING READING THE FIC GO RIGHT AHEAD]

J2 EDITION (aka ALMOST LORE) - aka "BLUEJAY"

J2's personality originates from I'm Almost Me Again (He's Almost You), and was the first one to be developed

J2 is devoted, sweet, earnest, hard-working, anxious, desperate to prove himself. He can have a slight acidic streak (his favorite way to rebel is smashing Jace's stuff) but is very preoccupied with being useful.

He reads as slightly younger than Jace b/c he's a clone, he basically just started existing yesterday, and I jokingly refer to him as "25 year old green new hire coded jace" (and also as Born Sexy Yesterday Jace) bc rewatching Freshman Year, I was surprised by how young and inexperienced Jace sounded, and I feel like that detail about his character (that imo makes his situation very pitiable) was really lost in translation in Junior Year. Because he is young to the world and kind of naive, he is very easy to impress and exploit

However, he is still clever and good at magic. Simulacra in dnd don't regain spell slots, but J2 was the first clone to figure out that as a sorcerer, he could convert sorcery points into spell slots, extending his utility to Jace and Porter and basically sparing himself from being dispelled.

J2 is initially very anxious about his purpose / survival. As a clone, he knows he has an expiration date and is desperate to make himself invaluable. The sorcery points solution to the spell slots is part of this.

J2's innate talent is part of what caught Porter's eye. He was the first clone to meet Porter, and Porter (and to some degree, Jace too) laud him as basically like. Jace's Precious Last Gift to Porter. He's often seen as remarkable or special, but its ambiguous whether that specialness is about j2 on his own terms or if he is special as a manifestation of jace's talent.

J2 is the one who is the intermediary between Jace, Porter, and the other Clones. He takes on the most responsibility, and interacts the most with Porter. Spending a lot of time with Porter, they two of them became very close

J2 is the one who loves Porter deeply enough to be very committed to The Plan. He thinks Porter is worthy of ascension, godhood, even if it means Porter will eventually leave him.

J2 had a long, deeply committed affair w/ porter that culminated in them sleeping together and J2 taking devil's honey that kinda rewired his brain and fucked him up. J2 was very much in love with Porter until he found out that Porter killed Jace and brought him back to life, but the devils honey tricks him into forgetting that fear.

The lie he told himself on devil's honey is "I want this. I want everything. Porter deserves everything". It basically rewires his brain to convince himself that he wants whatever happens to him, whether it be good or bad. Even if Porter got back together with jace, he would want that too, because Porter deserves everything, right? Everything he wants. Me and Jace. Just jace. Even if J2 becomes a literal or emotional sacrifice for the betterment orf porter or the cause. Whatever it is, i will be happy

Right after this happens, jace calls porter and agrees to enfold back into the Plan, but is not going to get back together w/ Porter. J2's fate is ambiguous, but emotionally, Porter has pretty much cast him aside with the hope that he will get back together with Jace. Also, b/c Jace is back in the picture, his status as the Last Precious Gift from Jace is in jeopardy and he becomes about as disposable as the other clones (however, usually when we clonepost, J2 is still top of the pecking order just below Jace)

POST-ALMOST: as far as Clone Lore goes - J2 tends to live in this state where he doesn't just worship Porter, but what we call the "Starbreaker Pantheon". He reveres the jaceporter relationship b/c he finds it to be profound and meaningful even if it's not always Good. Jace also occupies a spot in his devotion as like. This figure he is deeply envious of and could never measure up to, but also as someone he knows must be worthy of respect b/c that's who Porter wants, right? He wants what Jaceporter has b/c he sees Porter's love for Jace as like, something true and intimate and something he's only ever gotten a sliver of, treated as a replacement. He wants to be Jace, but he also wants Porter to be happy, so if Porter is happy with Jace he can find a way to worship Jace, too.

I ALMOST FORGOT TO MENTION: in Almost, Porter gave J2 the nickname "Bluejay". This is b/c J2's favorite color is blue, which makes him distinct from Jace. He is a very cozy boy who loves cardigans and sweaters and blue nail polish. Yes. Blue Jay is two words. We're gonna breeze past that. J2 fell in love with his new nickname, desperate to see it as a way for Porter to finally recognize him as different from Jace. If you see the clone enjoyers refer to J2 as Bluejay, this is why.

J3 EDITION (aka some Biggest Lie Lore etc)

J2's personality was developed in Almost, and I'd say J3's personality was crystalized in Biggest Lie, but technically J3's personality started as a joke. I said offhand one time in reply to another mutual that in my head, Porter was 100% noncommittally flirting with J3 the entire time he was having this very deep and torrid love affair with J2, and J3 sort of. Became the our beloved little slut as a result of that

J3 is flirtatious, thrillseeking, playful, manipulative, charming, easily bored, fatalistic / borderline parasuicidal, and deeply alientated from his sense of personhood. J2 spent a long time wishing to be loved by Porter on his own terms, as his own person, before finally succumbing. However, J3 is happy (well, convinced himself he happy) to be treated as Jace's cypher.

J3 is often treated as the Most Disposable of the clones. J2 is the intermediary and the Precious Gift. J3 is usually left with grunt work, and anything dangerous is usually foisted upon him to spare J2. He is the one who goes with Porter to cast enlarge-reduce in the woods, and he is the one that used to be spellcaster support for Porter if they ever needed to go anywhere dangerous.

J3 being treated as disposable is why he has no sense of identity or a sense of self preservation, unlike J2. Porter never spends time outside of necessity (until they start screwing. we'll get to that), so nobody has ever really bothered to get to know J3 besides the other clones. J2 is the one that Porter treasures, so J3 views himself as the shield for j3, the disposable one, the one who is likely first to die.

Because of this, he is a thrillseeker, desperate to cram as much living into his short half-life as possible (this includes trying to fuck anyone and everyone in elmville). The experiences do not have to be positive, he wants everything as long as its exciting.

During Almost, J3 and Porter were casually flirting. J3 would die before admitting it, but spending time with Porter was his favorite part of the day. Post Almost, when Jace got folded back into the plan but was not back together with porter, that's when Porter started hooking up with J3. With J3 perfectly willing to let Porter project all his want for jace and frustration at jace onto him because hey, he's getting the porter hookup and not jace, right?

J3 always threads this tenuous line of actively seeking out experiences while also passively being the recipient of other people's fantasies. unlike J2, he embraces being a jace cypher for Porter because that's how he gets porter at his most heightened. J3 often refuses to articulate what he wants, instead letting people do whatever they want to him. He is terrified of being seen as needy, terrified of being rejected for who he is.

At his best he is charismatic and charming, but at his worst he can be dramatic, whiny, desperate for enrichment, actively manipulative and cruel. His best quality and greatest flaw that he inherited from jace and took to the extreme is that he is generous and egoless; as much as he desires to be the center of attention, as much as he can push and push, at the end of the day, he gives people exactly what they need from him at his own expense

J3 rejects the intimacy with Porter that J2 seeks out and can never really achieve because he always falls short of being Jace. J3 convinces himself that he got the best deal out of anyone b/c he doesn't have to deal with the mess of attachment and heartbreak. However, deep down he is deeply jealous of J2 and Jace.

Post-Biggest Lie: Jace and Porter get back together in IYWD, in which Porter drops the clones, including J3. However, in cloneposting, sometimes the clones still have like a weird undefined thing with Porter and Jace for the sake of us having a fun time and fucking around.

BONUS LORE: Not technically canon to Biggest Lie, but J3 is closest to J4 out of everyone in Jaceporter + the clones dynamic. Because J2 is the precious favorite, J3 n J4 developed a weird allyship because they were the matching spares. They are kinda primed to be each other's biggest supporters and biggest weaknesses tbh. J3 provides J4 a spot of actual levity and pleasure in a half-life she otherwise considers to be miserable. J4 recognizes J3's personhood, gives voice to injustices he faces, and likes him for who he is and not who he pretends to me. They are best friends. They flirt. Sometimes they're in love, but like. we'll get to that

J4 EDITION - (aka Electra / Ellie)

J4 doesn't have as much of a... hefty source for characterization. i really hesitate to call things i write a primary source b/c i don't like to claim ownership over the clones it feels weird and wrong for something that is supposed to be fun and is already fanfiction. But i will say the things i write are. Substantial sources if you want clone context bc they're hefty projects lol.

J4 does not have a Porter-centric fic. This may change in the future but, the reason for this is b/c she is the only clone that hates Porter so subjecting her to that is. A much more convoluted task. Closest thing she has is Stay / Leave which is j3/j4 which we sometimes call LJ3 (and the two fics written by iaus!!!! which are fan fucking tastic!)

J4's personality is the result of. Looking at J2 n J3 and going. Ok what is the third point in a data set. If J2 worships Porter, the antithesis is someone who hates Porter, right? (and J3 is a middle ground)

J4 is marginally more loose in her characterization, but I would say she is... Rageful, bitter, driven, rebellious, ruthless, and steadfast in her beliefs, whether they are good or bad. She feels trapped by her circumstances, unlike J2 who has learned to love his gilded cage, and J3 who has accepted his fate and is basically trying to fuck hard until he dies in an explosion. She is determined to carve out her own path and define her own personhood, what we jokingly refer to as her "escaping the narrative"

Unlike J3 who has no problem being a cypher for jace and has completely neglected his own personhood, and J2 who desperately tried to get porter to recognize him for the person he was before succumbing and submitting, willing to be whatever The Plan and Porter needed of him, occupying this weird middle ground, J4 wants nothing to do with jace. She is determined to be her own person. She is disgusted by the limitations placed on her by being "of jace"

You're probably wondering why J4 is a girl. This was a me-headcanon that became fairly mass accepted, but I have joked that J4 is the only clone to achieve transgenderism. I do use she/her pronouns predominantly for J4, but it's mainly out of habit, i also am not super precious about it, nor do i really care what anyone else does with her. I don't necessarily see being a binary trans girl as the only way to interpret her character, but J4 being a girl it is the common way she is perceived at this point this deep into clone lore. As someone who also has a lot of gender feelings, i do see the need to define oneself and create your own identity to be very transgender tho, so i do think it's fitting

More of a fandom joke thing, J4 loves knives. We love when she gets stabby. There are also a lot of jokes abt her stealing jace's credit cards, his SSN, fantasizing abt setting his house on fire

She is preoccupied with the ways in which she might be similar to Porter because she views him as the embodiment of everything she hates, but she is the clone most like him. She is afraid of her own capacity for rage, her instincts for violence, for control, to own, to take, to posses, to dominate. She wants to fight to liberate, for what's right, but she worries her fight is just to be the person holding the boot at someone's throat rather than the person under the boot.

She worries her impotence and rebellion makes her unpalatable and unlovable. Because she can't really make any meaningful change in their circumstances, wouldn't it just be easier to submit? She worries she's denying herself pleasure for nothing. Even if she doesn't have a choice, wouldn't it easier to be submit and be happy, rather than fight and be miserable?

We also joke about Bad Timeline J4, who is equally as cruel and ruthless, but is devoted to Porter. There's no real content abt her, but its just a make believe scenario where she did finally stop fighting and agree to love Porter, in which she is the one most possessive of him, determined to be his attack dog right hand.

As articulated brilliantly by bambi, Jace, j3, and j2 are pretty archetypal charisma casters in that they are charming and make themselves easy to love. J4 wields her personality like a sledgehammer, but that is charisma, too. Her presence is always felt

She was originally very prideful. Determined to be different. Determined to be the one to make it out. Her pride covers up for a deep self hatred, especially as the expiration date of the clones ticks nearer and nearer, and she views herself to be a failure.

Her only soft spots are for the other clones, but especially J3. She pities J2, essentially viewing him as brainwashed into accepting their lot on life, but because of that pity, she does harbor some kindness and tenderness for him because of that. But J3? J4 bets on losing dogs, and she loves her losing dog so much and she would never admit it, but everyone can see it. If it wasn't for him, she probably would have ditched this whole situation.

This is an Esme Special aka @neerdowellnarrator, but J4 b/c she wants to make a point about not being Jase does choose her own name. J4's chosen name is Electra b/c of the greek myth comparisons and her basically Escaping A The Cycle. She goes by "Ellie" for short. J3 sometimes calls her El / Elle. We still refer to her as J4 sometimes for clarity's sake. Whatever stage she is in when it comes to even having a name is very dependent on whoever is depicting her anyway.

PART 4: Wait, so are J3 and J4... In love?

Yeah. it's like a whole Thing. This is a pretty recent development. I'll save it for the doc. To be elaborated on soon, I promise. It's called LJ3, i have a whole tag for it if it grips you.

PART 5: ADDITIONAL SILLY CLONE ENJOYERISMS (with links)

J2Porter Vegas Wedding Roleplay Weekend: a Jess Special! Based on this post! Elaborated on here! Jess aka @hauntedwizardmoment has more thoughts here! But I have a whole tag dedicated to it. Gist is that even after Jace n Porter get back together, Porter still devotes special days to the clones to give them Porter Time, and J2's day is an entire weekend where they booked a hotel in Bastion City. And during that time, they're basically roleplaying "What if we got spontaneous hitched in vegas" where Porter books out the honeymoon sweet, and J2 wears a tacky wedding dress, and the whole weekend is just devoted to treating J2. I'm not kidding, if i think too hard abt j2porter vegas roleplay weekend, I might cry.

Jace put the Clones are in the Torment Nexus: based on a post made by Jess again. Makes me laugh my ass off. If we say the clones are never escaping the torment nexus, this is why

J2Jace Blue Lingerie Gift: Sometimes J2 deserves the niceys, so Jace gives him a treat. NSFT warning lol. The post is a Jess Special / Bambi @iaus / @innskeep Special. I drew J2 something inspired by the getup once.

J2 is goodboy modest tradcath jace / J3 is college casual hookup clubbing era jace / j4 is grunge jace: Just headcanons for the different Jace's style of dress. They're all different eras or common headcanons within the fandom b/c Jace fashions eras. J2 is a bit modest, he likes cardigans and sweaters and for things to be comfortable and oversized (but to be fair, he's not AS modest as goodboy jace. Goodboy ex tradcath jace is the jace backstory for IYWD btw. He's the child of one sol worshiping parent and one galicaean worshiping parent and he is NOT ok). J3 wears a lot of form fitting clubbing outfits and hotpants and shit, Jace's wild child era. J4 wears clothes from grunge jace era which i think is a Jess Special again? Like. Old band tees and flannels and lots of black.

J4 is constantly name dropping obscure alt bands that play tuesday night in the parking lot of the black pit and only watches experimental indie horror movies and foreign war films shot from the perspective of pigeon (said w so much love, that concept fucks)

J2 Amy Dunne / J3 Cool Girl / J4 Gone Girl Amy / Jaceprime Amazing Amy Thesis: An elaboration on Jess's Cool Girl Jace Thesis on which she wrote an awesome fic about.

The Clones are Dykes: This one is old as fuck. I made a joke ages ago abt Dyke!Jace b/c I think Dykefag!Jace / Zara is a cute ship. So if Jace is a dyke, then the clones must also be Dykes. I drew art of them once. Digging up the dyke clones posts would be a trip and they're not really indicative of their current personalities, but if you see us joking about. J2 escaping to another timeline where he is a dyke and in a committed relationship with Zara or Lucilla, that is where that comes from

"Born to Love Porter Cliffbreaker, forced to do weird menial tasks for Jaceprime": another old ass thing i said as a joke before the clones had personalities. But it does have a lot to do with j4's preoccupation w/ free will. And Jace also being remade to love porter. Life is hard when you're born to love someone and you're forced to grade papers instead! It ain't much but it's a half-life! At the same time, me positing the clones all had potential to fall in love with Porter is kinda what brought us here, so.

There's a whole host of greek myth and hadestown references we're always dragging out. Cassankarna is Persephades, Jaceporter is Orphydice. Jaceporter is Persephades, J2 is Eurydice. Jaceporter is Persephades, LJ3 is Orphydice. J2 is Iphigenia, J3 is Helen, J4 is Electra / Cassandra. J2 is also Psyche.

Putting the Clones in Game changer: A comedy au in which the Clones are improv comedians on Dropout.tv. But also it's about LJ3 being a little in love and unable to escape the narrative. Esme made Elliego n J3go which i love (aka bingo cards). Loosely based on the last time i drew Jaceporter on game changer as well

Anyway! Thank you for coming on this long winded journey of Clone Primer! If i have any other thoughts I'll add it to the doc.

#jan.ask #clone enjoyers anonymous

16 notes · View notes

whoblewboobear · 4 months ago

Text

Crack fic where Zara turned Jace and Jace forgot to bring it up to Porter who starts getting very suspicious about some of Jace’s new habits.

He goes to Zara and he’s like “yeah idk what’s up with him lately. He doesn’t really have an appetite anymore, he sleeps all day, and he’s so cold all the time. I think he might be sick.” And Zara’s standing there trying not to facepalm bc 1. Porter wtf you don’t notice that these are vampiric traits u fucking idiot and 2. of course Jace just forgot to tell their partner she turned him. And she’s sure as shit not trying to get in the middle of a fight so she’s like “idk ask him if he’s sick 🙄 there has been a bug going around, maybe it finally bit him.”

And Porter is like ??? Bc “why do you always speak in riddles.” Zara just flips him off and leaves but she immediately sends Jace a text

[Zara]: you forgot to tell our boyfriend i turned you?!

[Jace]: sorry I’ll tell him tonight 😘💫

Jace’s way of telling him? Feeding on Porter the next time they’re fucking.

Porter is into, sure. He lets Zara bite him all the time but this isn’t Zara this is- 🤨

Porter wishes he has magic in that moment because he would teleport if he could and leave Jace empty. Because he’s really trying hard at this communication thing and the LEAST Jace and Zara could’ve done was rope him in on the conversation. He’s not one to police what they can and can’t do together, he loves the both of them and he’ll give them space if they wanna do their own thing but 🥺

And when Jace finishes his little drink he just sits there does lil jazz hands and says “Surprise~” but Porter is very frowny about it for the next few days and gives them both the silent treatment until they surprise him with new leather gloves and give him lil kisses and promise to tell him big stuff like that from now on.

#this was supposed to be SILLY #I have vampire brain but I’m permanently stuck in Jace brainrot #so of course those two hyperfixations are gonna kiss #Zara can’t type in capital letters to save her life she doesn’t care #don’t ask me why I’ve thought extensively about how each of them text #Zara is still mean to Porter but she likes him enough to also date him #she’s his hot mean goth gf and he loves herrrrr and she loves him or whatever 🙄 and Jace is a simp for both of them who’s shocked #blooddiamond #starbreaker

14 notes · View notes

aemondsbeloved · 2 years ago

Text

I Would Die For You In Secret [Prologue]

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Targaryen!reader

summary: when you reunite with your family in the Red Keep the plans of peace seem improbable. after breaking fast with estranged relatives you go to Aemond’s rooms if only to give him a piece of your mind (5.5k)

notes: I don’t write stuff like this anymore (incestuous relationships) but I forgot I had this prologue to the two parted fic with the same name written from awhile ago. Figured I might as well post it.

part 1 | part 2

“That is a mad idea.”

You stood in the hall of Dragonstone, standing between your brothers Jacaerys and Lucerys, the younger children of Rhaenyra not present.

When your mother had said that you would be leaving Dragonstone after the many years you had resided there to go back to the Red Keep you might have thought this a joke if not for the serious expression on her face and the barely hidden disdain on Daemon’s at the proposition.

When she followed this preposterous relocation of your family with the ridiculous idea that you would be going back so that you and your brothers could mend the tensions with Alicent Hightower’s children you had laughed if only out of disbelief.

Jace and Luke were still silent, so you had to voice the truth alone it seemed.

“You really want us to be friends with the likes of Aegon and Aemond?” Your voice came in a spat.

Your mother sighed. “Yes, it is essential to the survival of our family.”

“Does our grandsire demand it?”

You might have admitted another day that you were being haughty in a way that was reminiscent of the people you despised but today you would not admit such a thing.

The look of exasperation on her face was not missed by you. “No, he has not, but the Queen and I have spoken in length. As neither of us wishes for our children to be harmed when my father is no longer with us, reconciliation is the only foreseeable path.”

You being speechless at this was a first.

“If this is what we must do,” Jace spoke for the first time since Rhaenyra had told her children what must be done. The trepidation in his voice at the prospects were clear but the son of duty, he would do as his mother bid him and trust her judgment. “Then we will do everything we can to set things right.”

Your temper was at a high, perhaps due to how you had not too long ago been riding your dragon. Just as soon as your mother had smiled at her eldest child in gratitude you had turned to him, annoyed.

“Oh and will you reconcile with Aegon? You are going to rekindle your friendship with Alicent Hightower’s drunken son?”

The warning glance Jace shot you did nothing to curb your tongue. “And perhaps Lucerys can reconcile with Aemond. Yes, I am sure the Prince will be most forgiving.”

“Do not bring me into this,” Lucerys was saying on your other side, something between a plea and murmur.

You did not listen and Jace’s smart retort came, “We have not seen our uncles in a long time. Aegon might not be a drunkard and Aemond might not hold a grudge.”

“You are either infinitely wiser than I or you are just an idiot.”

“Stop it!”

Finally, you turned back to see your mother looking exasperated beyond relief. If you had liked Daemon and not merely tolerated him, you might have appreciated the amusement on his face.

“You will not provoke them, Y/N. I mean it. If I am to be Queen as is right then we must have all of their support. So, your brothers will make things better with the Princes as Queen Alicent and I intend. Meanwhile you will spend time with Princess Helaena.”

You softened, only a little bit. Helaena was kind and yes, you had been close to her as children. Your resolve hardened when your mother continued, however. “And you will not provoke Prince Aegon or Prince Aemond. None of you will.”

Jacaerys and Lucerys said yes, mother but you only stared. After a moment you relented. “As you wish, mother.”

Days later when you were back at the Red Keep you could only remember what it was like to grow up here.

Happy memories were scarcely remembered. Glimpses of lessons with the Septa with Helaena, the whispers that followed you and your brothers’ shadows, things you were too young to really understand.

Your mother did a good job of shielding you from the accusations that the court murmured and it was easier to not know such a thing as your contested parentage when your uncles didn’t hate your brothers.

But then they had after a night at Driftmark. By then your family had left already to Dragonstone and you would not see the other side of your family for too many years to count.

You would have happily ignored their existence for eternity, even sweet Helaena who might have been a sister to you if you had not left the Red Keep so young. But you could have forgotten them all.

Then for an unknown reason Alicent had done the unthinkable and sent a raven to your mother, or so you had heard. Something about peace and reconciliation for the family and the safety of the Realm.

It made no sense to you at all, but you would have to accept it. You had no choice as you were shown to the part of the castle where your family’s apartments would be.

As you slouched in the chaise chair in your rooms you heaved a sigh, no doubt looking the picture of whatever a princess should not be doing.

“This will not work how mother thinks it will.”

Jace was standing in your rooms while Lucerys was in his own rooms, no doubt getting settled. “I applaud your optimism, sister. Do you not think we can mend these fences?”

You ignored him. “I do not have fences to mend. Princess Helaena and I exchanged occasional letters. Besides, we did not leave on malicious terms.”

He leveled a look at you, knowing this was not the end of what you would say.

“Though, Lucerys did stab Aemond in the eye, so I suppose he will have to mend that fence, will he not? I would have thought the maester already mended Aemond’s miserable face.”

“Is Lucerys the only one who should try to become friends with Aemond?” He asked as he looked at you the same way mother did when you were on the path of going too far.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Now he was teasing you.

“You look like mother right now, which is the last thing I need.”

“You cannot be hostile with them, especially Aemond. He will enjoy it and Aegon will try to get a reaction out of you.”

“You know I will not. I promised mother, since when do I break promises?”

He nodded. “Then let us make another.”

As he moved forward closer to you, you quirked a brow and propped yourself up. “Name it.”

“We will do our duty and reconcile with our family, but we both know they cannot be trusted. Aemond is too bitter and Aegon may be irredeemable.”

You nodded at this, knowing he was right even if you could not know who your uncles were anymore.

“We will not form friendships with them. We will promise with one another that we will look out for ourselves and Lucerys only.”

Your chin tilted up looking at him. Grabbing his hand in front of you, you shook it with conviction more befitting a seasoned lord and not a princess. Without doubting that Jacaerys was right, and knowing without a doubt that there was no possibility of befriending someone like Aegon or Aemond, you swore to your brother.

“I promise.”

Promises were hard to keep you had come to realize. Like when you had sworn to your mother that you would not provoke the Princes nor let them provoke you.

Easier said than done as you sat at the long table with the whole of your family, half of them strangers.

Waiting for King Viserys was an eternity and the silence between the younger Targaryens and Velaryons was thick with tension.

It took everything in you not to swig your wine as Aegon was doing a few seat down the table. You turned to Baela who sat besides you with Jacaerys on her other side.

As you leaned slightly and raised your brows at Jacaerys you made it little secret what you were thinking of as you teased him, thinking of his words that Aegon might not be a drunkard.

“Enough,” Jace mumbled under his breath after catching his mother’s look across the table where she sat besides the empty spot as you all waited for the King.

“I did not say anything, brother,” you whsipered, faking innocence.

Baela might have stifled a chuckle of her own at your retort but Jacaerys was in no mood for a jape. The warning look from your mother did have you retreating, remembering you promise.

It was all you could do to sit back in your seat, back straight and trying to pretend this was a comfortable place for you to be.

You would behave for a time but only for your mother and your grandsire. As you glimpsed your uncles you swore it would never be for their sake.

Close as you were in their age you remembered as a young girl how seriously Aemond had taken himself. As close as you were to Helaena you had known as a child that Aemond loathed that he did not have a dragon, so once you had told him you would ask your mother for a dragon egg the next time Syrax laid a fresh clutch. Your act of kindness had made him pinch up his face as he uttered harsh words how he did not need an egg from someone like you.

You could barely remember the exchange after all these years but you had recalled how that was the first and only time you had attempted a friendship with Helaena’s younger brother, thinking him foulmouthed and cold.

To you at the age of eight, he was worse than Aegon who never uttered an intelligent thought in his life. It was only a few years later you were all at Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral and Aemond had claimed Vhagar and Lucerys had taken his eye.

Childhood memories before that night hardly mattered. A few letters with Helaena before they lapsed over time were the sole reminder of the connections you had in the Red Keep but even those too had faded. All of that just to return was the madness of this all.

In the corner of your eye you saw Helaena who sat nearly four seats down, besides Aegon and you could not help the frown as you saw her whispering something under her breath, seemingly to herself.

If Aegon was as foul as some servants whispered you wondered how the Queen and King would ever marry sweet Helaena to someone like her brother.

Looking at Otto Hightower you thought you might have known why. What is a Princess’s happiness compared to the consolidation of power?

Despite not being married off yet, you had heard Daemon and your mother whispered one night as you passed the corridors of Dragonstone. Something about Cregan Stark being near your age. You could fill in the rest with your imagination.

Just because you had not been married and shipped off yet did not mean it would not happen.

Looking at nothing as you thought of your fate now that you observed Helaena’s, you weren’t aware of how thin your lips were as you frowned.

Under the table, Lucerys’ hand squeezing yours broke you out of your stupor. Finding your brother’s worrisome gaze on you, you smiled as warmly as you could, letting him know you were fine.

Enough was riding on this reunion and you could only let him worry over what could possibly come, not on the battles you could only fight in your mind.

Your eyes flickered to the King as he entered the room and frowned at how sick and frail he had become.

“You know why we are all here together,” he said in an constrained voice, like it took everything in him to speak. “My lady wife and daughter know how important it is for us to put everything behind us. Find it in yourselves to put the past where it belongs. Do this for the realm, our great house, your king, your father, your husband, your brother, your grandsire.”

He had looked at his children, first your mother then his younger children, then to Alicent, to Daemon, and finally to you and your brothers.

To see a powerful man beg his family was a sombering affair and it had affected you most of all. When he sat down you could see your mother sit up and toast the Queen. The shock came when you could tell your mother meant her kind words, even more when the Queen seemed moved.

You might have been young but you could still recall the resentment between the Queen and your mother. How strange it was for them to make and effort and all the years of tension to slip away.

When Queen Alicent stood and toasted your mother you felt for once not so jaded at your part of the family you had not seen in the many years. And when Jace made his toast to Aemond and Aegon, trying his best to form a friendship you thought your brother might have been truly genuine even if your uncles were uninterested.

Aegon was only interested in being foulmouthed as he got up to get more wine before saying to Baela beside you, “If you ever wish to be satisfied, you need only ask.”

As you processed the words Jace’s fist had slammed the table as he stood up, not taking the slight easily. Aegon might have sat down again but Jace could not be provoked, not when Aemond stood up nearly challenging him to do something.

You might have thought about telling your uncles off but Jace had promised to your mother to heal the family not further tear it apart.

“We have not seen each other in a long time,” he began before casting a look to Lucerys at the end of your family’s side of the table. Smiling he continued, “but I have fond memories of our shared youth. I hope as men we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles.”

The fist bump he gave Aegon’s should had the drunken prince mumbling half heartedly, “To you as well.”

To your pleasure, Aemond had to sit down again. You could practically see the disappointment that he had not been able to do something to Jace, though exactly what you did not know.

“To Baela and Rhaena,” Helaena was saying as she stood up and hearing her voice unwittingly made you smile. “They will be married soon. It is not so bad. He mostly ignores you. Unless sometimes when he’s drunk.”

The smile fell right off your lips at that. You wondered what the Queen had thought marrying Helaena to Aegon, who clearly had no good intentions in him after his comment to Baela.

A smiling was tugging your lips again, however, when Jace had asked Helaena to dance. You knew why, of course. It was a gesture of kindness and goodwill, nothing more, and even Aegon did not seem to care his sister-wife was dancing with Jace.

The tensions might not have been there, if only for a moment, as Jace and Helaena had returned to their seats. The food had arrived and smelled delightful. You might have even began eating until you heard a scrap of a chair and shadow looming over you.

“Princess,” Aegon was saying, as mocking as it was, and held out his hand. Jacaerys and Helaena might have already sat back down from dancing but it seemed Aegon was not happy to sit by now.

The offer to dance was not one you could refuse. It could be seen as a slight and looking across the table at your mother who was tightlipped as she nodded, you knew what you must do.

Ignoring how your brothers, mostly Jacaerys, looked at the scene unfolding as you stood up and placed your hand in Aegon’s as he led you to where his sister-wife and nephew had been dancing not moments before.

As the music started again you moved quickly with the pace. Putting your elbow in his you turned, expertly moving to the dance you had learned many years ago.

“I must confess my shock to hear that you are not yet betrothed as your brothers are, Princess.”

The mockery of your title from his lips would have affected you if you did not know exactly who Aegon was. “My brothers became betrothed today and I am not an old maiden yet, Uncle. There is time to find a worthy suitor.”

“And yet you have not found one,” he chided, obviously amused and perhaps finding you lacking.

“When my mother and Prince Daemon present a match to me I am sure it will be politically and personally well suited.”

You turned opposite directions as he took your other elbow in his, continuing the dance.

“What you mean to say is that you are the type of maiden who does as she bids.”

“Why of course I am uncle,” you smiled, feigning sweetness. “If I did not do as my mother bids, you would be on the floor covered in your own blood.”

The shock of it had his grip loosening and you smiled brightly at him, turning back to the table and taking your seat between your brothers. As Aegon retreated and went to his chair that he now slouched in you felt rather pleased, even as your mother looked at you with concern, unable to know what was said.

You missed it right before it happened. You had only sat down as a servant set down a roasted pig on the other end of the table in front of Prince Aemond. You couldn't give your younger brother a pointed look, remembering the prank your brothers and Aegon had done to Aemond as children, before Lucerys had laughed.

Then, your uncle was standing and you could see it in his eye as you looked at him that he was excited for whatever was to come. All the more reason to be on guard.

“A final tribute to my nephews— Jace, Luke and Joffrey,” Aemond said, smiling coldly. “Each of them handsome—”

You frowned, looking at Jace near you. Could he sense what you could, or was the malice imagined?

“Wise—”

You looked across the table to your mother. You silented pleaded for her to look your way as her eyes were on Aemond as was everyone else.

The pause was deadly silent and the smile on Aemond’s face was not kind. Anyone could see he would not be about to pay your brothers a compliment.

If your mother would not look at you right now you would have to glance at Daemon who now caught your gaze.

Just as Daemon nodded in your direction you heard Aemond finish, “Strong.”

Jace was up as quick as lightning. “I dare you to say that again.”

Your chair made an ugly noise as the wooden legs scraped the stone floor, nearly tipping over. Just as fast you stepped to Jace, moving in front of him as Aemond moved to the side of the table.

Jace was made of honor and would not stand for the slight on him and your brothers, even you by association. Thank the Gods his sister was more clever than he for you saw Aemond exactly for who he was.

Lethally, you held his wrist in a grip so tight it would hurt him. Pulling down on his wrist, ignoring the grunt of pain, you whispered sharply in his ear, “He is provoking you. Sit.”

Jace did not sit, still simmering in anger as he remembered Vaemond’s words earlier calling your mother a whore and her children bastards, but he still stood behind you, not saying a word and not approaching Aemond who now had a smirk on his lips.

It seemed this was not going how he thought but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He might have been an agent of chaos but you were hard as the stone on your ancestral home, firm in the ground from years of practice knowing when to stay still. He was the violent waves wanting to knock you over but you were the stone that had been smoothed over from years of the waves torment. The likes of your uncle could not move you. You would not give him what he wanted.

This time you smiled at him and you were cold and mocking before you even spoke. Letting Jace’s wrist go you could feel his heavy breathing behind you but folding your arms behind your back, letting everyone see you did not need your brother to be held back and that he would not attack Aemond as your uncle so clearly desired. Not to mention you were not scared of him or anyone here.

If they wanted to strike you down or worse yet make you strike them down when your mother pleaded for peace, then they were fools.

“You honor my brothers and I, Uncle.”

He did not say anything and you saw Aemond flicker his gaze over your shoulder at Jace. You could imagine your brother’s surprise and only hoped he had the ability to hide it.

“It pleases me to hear you compliment my brothers, Prince Aemond,” you smiled and it might have even looked as genuine as you pretended to be. “Especially after our family’s complicated past. I have no doubt we may yet all be friends with one another some day.”

Raising your cup to him you smiled. “I raise my cup to you, my prince. I can only pray that we may always see eye to eye.”

You could hear Jace sit down at last and Lucerys choked on his drink as you drowned your glass of wine like you were your drunken uncle.

“Y/N,” your mother admonished, knowing just as well as Aemond what you had said.

Your uncle only stared you down with menace. Maybe he was deciding if striking you like he so desperately wanted to do to your brothers was a worthy cause.

Alicent was eyeing your mother, undoubtedly wondering what she would say.

“Apologize to your uncle,” Rhaenyra said tightly. “That was unseemly.”

Turning your head to look at her, you frowned. Did she need peace so badly she expected you to allow Aemond to call your brothers bastards?

“I was only thanking him, mother,” you said, voice dripping of honey. As Daemon chuckled, enjoying the tension that was rising, you continued, “I meant no offense.”

When you looked back at him, your lips upturned in a smile so sweet it was destined to be insincere, Aemond only hummed in reply. The clench of his jaw and the cold look in your eyes made you think he might have thrown a punch to you, even if he had hoped it would be Jace he’d be able to injure.

You gripped your fist as you tried to remember the self defense move Laenor had taught you once. Aemond had grown tall and had the build of a seasoned warrior but a part of you thought you could hit him hard enough. Another part of you, the rational part of you, told you that was a foolish thought.

His eyes that had been staring at you with animosity like you were a challenge he didn’t want now moved to your fist. When you had unclenched your fist it was too late. He had seen you and a smirk had already been forming when you relaxed your hand.

The amusement on his face made you nauseous. Or maybe that was the wine you had downed too quickly.

With a wayward glance at his mother who was frowning at the interaction that had happened in front of everyone’s eyes, he left the room but not before looking at you again almost like he had won.

Your intentions were good but as you did whenever you had made a misstep you wanted to run and hide. That was not an option.

Helaena had left the room quickly and when Aegon had followed, a snicker falling from his lips, your mother had moved to you from her side of the table.

One look at your brothers and they were leaving, your mother’s orders clear. The reassuring hand Jace had put on your shoulder did not soothe you nor did the apologetic look Lucerys gave you hold any comfort.

“I told you to not provoke them. I said they might provoke you.”

“I know,” you replied in a quiet voice, all too aware of the other elders who were in the room.

Did the likes of the Hightowers really get to hear your mother tell you how you had done wrong?

“And yet you did the opposite of what you promised.”

“I did not intend it.”

“Your intentions are not what matters, Y/N. Your actions do, however, have consequences.”

You scoffed involuntarily. “Is something amusing?“ She asked you sharply.

“You think if we become friends with them we will heal the family and save the realm. This will not happen.”

“Why not?” She asked and for a moment you forgot that Alicent Hightower, the Hand and Daemon were in the room.

“He is comfortable in his hatred. As is Aegon,” you saw her eyebrows raise at your words. “Lucerys might cut out his eye and he will not be satisfied. Aemond will not be content with less than everything, even if we all burn because of it.”

She let out a shaky breath. “These are harsh words.”

“They are honest ones. I see the truth as it is, mother.”

“You see what you think is the truth. I do not want you to paint a gruesome picture of my half-brother when we do not know what history may hold for my reign.”

You laughed a breath. “My uncle knows nothing but hate. I’ve read the histories of our family, mother. I know what Targaryens can do to one another.”

You had known the truth, plain and simple. “We are dragons, there is no middle ground. We stand by each other or we destroy one another. I do not see a world where Aemond Targaryen stands with us.”

“You promised me that you would not provoke them. You swore you would help us mend our family,” she reminded you in a harsh whisper. “And now I hear my only daughter is certain her mother’s efforts will be in vain. Do you think so little of me?”

You shook your head, denying her words.

“Then fix this,” she urged lowly. “You will go to Prince Aemond and apologize come the morning. You will do so sincerely and you will not say such a thing to him again.”

Your jaw tightened at her words. A protest settled deep within your throat, the clench of your jaw all that was preventing it from being harshing said to your mother. “As you wish, mother,” you relented but the resentment in your words could not be hidden. Of course you would have to apologize for this to him of all the cravens in the Realm.

Ignoring the stares from your mother, the Queen and the Hand of the King you left the small hall. Torches of fire light dotted the corridors and on your journey to Aemond’s quarters you had only grown more furious. You prayed he was not in his rooms somehow when you rapped a fist against his door.

There was no answer after a minute and you felt satisfied. Until the door was pulled open with immense force and you were face to face with Aemond. His leather doublet had been unbuttoned and his eyepatch was off. He had clearly been in the middle of undressing for the night, keen on solitude, but by the widening of his eye following by a deep frown, it was also clear he had not been expecting a visitor.

If the gossip that filled your ears from visitors to Dragonstone over the years were right, Aemond always wore an eyepatch to not scare the ladies of the court. It made him sound like a gentleman something you very much doubted.

“Should you not be in your chambers?” he asked bruskly, his eye scrutinizing you.

“I was sent to apologize,” you replied begrudgingly, gritting your teeth as you said it. “I was unseemly.”

He must have thought your words as insincere as you knew them to be by the way he smirked, leaning himself against the threshold. “You are a terrible liar.”

“You called my brothers bastards,” you reminded him sharply, your anger growing like dragon fire. “On today of all days, when our mothers wanted peace. After Vaemond Velaryon called my mother a whore and my siblings bastards.”

He only hummed, looking disinterested. “You are more tiresome than I recall,” you spat and there was nothing to quell your fury. “And you’ve become as loathesome as Aegon. In every way to match him I’m sure.” your words of Aegon held unmistakeable meaning.

“Did he trouble you?” he asked, still disinterested but the heavy look in his eye held a deeper meaning.

“No more than he troubles the serving girls with great frequency, I hear,” you scoffed, giving Aemond a nasty look. He bristled at your tone. “I am sure his vile nature rivals your own.”

“You are one to talk,” he said curtly, lips moving into an unpleasant expression. “I remember you on Driftmark lying for your brothers—”

“And I recall you holding to rock over Jace’s body saying you would feed us to your dragon so we might burn alive like Ser Harwin,” you bit the words out, taking a step near him in challenge. “But of course, you are the innocent one, are you not? The unnatural children of your half-sister are to blame for everything in this family?”

He said nothing as he stared at you witha menacing look with a tinge of surprise. “And here I am ordered to visit you offering an apology because peace is more important than dignitity.”

“Careful,” he chided. “Someone might think you are criticizing the heir to the Iron Throne.”

“Peace will never occur in our family, everyone is a fool to believe our house could be one.”

He raised a brow, your words unexpected. “You expect war, Princess?”

Even now when you spoke of the reality that could fall on your family he made a joke of it, wanting to rile you at every turn. “I see our family for what it is. And I have disdain for having to fix the bonds broken before I was born into this world.”

Maybe you were blaming your mother, maybe you thought it was wrong you had to fix what had occurred between her and the Queen. You felt entitled to your bitterness but in your rage you could not recognize this might be a common ground between you both.

He hummed. You thought he might have even looked at you in understanding. “You are very poor at apologizing.”

“And you are a craven who wants to ruin any chance at peace.” Your words were harsh because a world in which you and Aemond could be friends was impossible after Driftmark, and you had promised to stand by your brothers before this visit.

“Craven?” he repeated like he had not heard the words. “Watch yourself, niece. I ride the Queen of Dragons and the only craven here is—”

“The one who picks fights with his kin at a dinner for peace, yes we have established that,” you pursed your lips, the anger that had faded rising in waves. “At every turn you ruin everything in our family. You and your brother. Helaena and Jace were dancing and Aegon decided to ruin that and you not long after.”

“That bastard brother of yours had no right to dance with my sister, she is married to Aegon,” he hissed and stray silver hairs fell in front of his eyes.

You laughed, the sound spiteful. “And what a match that was! Aegon had offered to lay with Baela and me not long after, but not before he insinuated no man in Westeros would want to wed me. I pity Helaena she is too gentle to have such cruel brothers and to be married to one fo them, I could think of no worse fate.”

He was stunned to silence for a moment, but why you did not know and did not care to ask. “You are cruel, Aemond, and I think you revel in sharing your misery to the whole of our family. But because my mother ordered me to, I do apologize for my unseemly comment. I shall practice treating you as a ghost not worthy of acknowledging at any fast we must break together in the future.”

You could not bear to look at him and turned on your heel, striding down the corridor to where your apartments were during your time in the Keep. The entire journey to your rooms your anger had not faded.

#aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x velaryon oc #aemond x velaryon!reader #pro aemond targaryen

178 notes · View notes

captainkirkk · 2 years ago

Text

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

ATLA

Boomerangs and Rainbows by Mindbending (+ podfic)

At Sokka’s behest, the Gaang skips rescuing Zuko during the Siege at the North Pole. Instead they leave him, unconscious, buried in the snow.

In completely unrelated news, Sokka’s haunted by a ghost now.

For Hearth And Home by Haicrescendo

[There’s a child underneath Fire Lord Zuko’s desk.

He doesn’t realize this until he sits down and tiny hands wrap themselves around his ankles, and Fire Lord Zuko definitely does not shriek and backpedal away at the unexpected touch.

He definitely does do that but Gou, the single guard he’s agreed to let shadow him, is kind enough not to mention it.]

Or: In which Fire Lord Zuko is a total mess and somehow people manage to love him for it anyway.

For All The Just Alike Birds by SilverSkiesAtMidnight

It starts the stupidest way anything has ever gone wrong in Tim’s life.

It starts when he falls asleep in the shower.

Stranger Things

should i keep it on display, or redecorate? by RejectsCanon

The first thing Steve removes from his room is the random framed photograph of a car.

Before Steve realizes what he’s doing, he’s snatched that photo off the wall. It comes off easily, the only thing holding it in place is a nail haphazardly hammered into the wall. Picture in hand, Steve doesn’t pause to think, letting his body take over as he rushes down the stairs.

Steve stalks downstairs, wrenches open the back door, and smashes that obnoxious picture to the ground.

Or, Steve hates his room. He decides to change that.

The Sandman

the past, the future, the doorway by Chrome, stardreamertwo

thedreaming_comm writes:

Welcome to thedreaming_comm, a space for fans of Morpheus Endless’s The Dreaming series!

(A year after going missing, fantasy author Morpheus Endless is found alive. The internet has a lot to say.)

only the register by Chrome

As much as Hob likes this job, will be sorry to lose it, he’s not sorry for the punch.

Worlds collide at the British Museum. Hob Gadling gives into old instincts. Paul McGuire has regrets.

Shadowhunters

What's in a Name by Carmenlire

The dichotomy of Alec is endlessly fascinating to Magnus. He knows-- was confronted once upon a time-- that Alec is surly and can be downright brutal, his temper running hot or icy depending on the situation. He can be rude and standoffish and frighteningly cold to whomever hasn’t earned his respect. He’s a consummate professional, a brilliant leader and tactician, but there’s no denying that his boyfriend can be a bit of a dick.

But he's also soft and soaks affection up like a sponge, physically demonstrative in a way that Magnus could never have predicted.

A typical day in the life of Alec Lightwood.

Tell me I'm perfect (but tell me the truth) by SquaresAreNotCircles

"Totally whipped,” Jace says, even as he slings an arm over Alec’s shoulders to keep him steady on the way outside.

“Like cream,” Alec sighs.

Or: 5 times Alec tells his siblings how amazing Magnus is + 1 time Magnus finds out.

The Shadiest Thing by starkraving

Magnus is High Warlock, yeah, but he’s just a little bit gangster sometimes. Alec tags along on an errand and gets a real look at warlock culture, what it takes to be High Warlock, and the details of a ‘warlock duel’. Magnus can’t believe the stupid shit people leave on his voicemail. Between Season 2 & 3.

#it's more like a monthly fic round-up at this point #i'm blaming covid and getting stranded on the other side of the country lmao #my posts #fic recs #shadowhunter recs #atla recs #dc recs #sandman recs #stranger things recs #weekly fic round up

195 notes · View notes

humanpurposes · 1 year ago

Text

These are all my thoughts about the Season 2 teaser, under a cut because I'm mentioning book spoilers and doing some speculating, and also because I have sooooo much to say

Starting off with the first shot of Rhaenyra, standing by Shipbreaker Bay with Storm's End in the distance. The fact that she goes looking for Luke is so heartbreaking, but this is why I'm so excited for the show!! In the book there's not really an explanation of how the Blacks found out about Luke's death, just Rhaenyra's reaction and the "son for a son" line. I do really love the portrayal of Rhaenyra as a mother in the first season, especially her bond with Luke and I can so see her rushing to find out what happened to him.

I'm so excited for Emma D'Arcy in general. I'll be honest, it took me a while to warm up to post time jump Rhaenyra, especially because I felt like the character felt so different to Milly's Rhaenyra, but they really won me over in episode 10. What Emma is able to do with just their expressions is incredible, particularly in the very last shot of season 1, that look of grief and fury was so impactful. I hope we get more 'silent' acting moments from Emma and I think this could be one of those.

I wanna jump a head and mention the parallels between this scene and the shot of Alicent by some lake? I really thought that was supposed to be Alys Rivers until they showed her face. Obviously there's a similar visual there with Alicent and Rhaenyra. My questions are, where is this meant to be? It looks misty and you can't see much in the background, so I'm thinking it could be a dream given that she's dressed very plainly? The other lake that comes to mind is the God's Eye, but in the book, Alicent doesn't leave King's Landing. This bit also excited me because I've kinda used bodies of water as symbol for death and grief in one of my fics haha.

Sticking with Alicent, the first we see of her in the teaser is her speaking with someone off camera, probably Larys Strong because you can see his cane. My girl looks tired (probably because her son started a war whoops) and she seems very reluctant with the "many will die line." Super excited for more Olivia Cooke looking melancholic!!

I hate Criston Cole's haircut, but it's not a big deal.

Aegon on the throne! He still looks miserable lmao. I think of all the interpretations of the characters I think Aegon will end up disappointing me the most. I really don't think they developed him enough last season to set up any meaningful rivalry with Rhaenyra, which I can understand because the focus is on Rhaenyra and Alicent. But I feel like he's been left out of his own story in a way because in the book, he doesn't want the throne, but is convinced by Criston to stake his claim and properly fight for it. I have a feeling HotD is still going for a mopey emo boy. I mean he literally has a chain around him. Also I wish his crown had more rubies, it looks so underwhelming, but the dragon embroidery on his tunic is sick.

Also, dragon shoulder things going on with Rhaenyra's dress? Slay, she's the more fashionable monarch for sure.

0:26, the dragon flying overhead. I think this is Nettles!! Some people have been saying they're disappointed she was left out, but I think could be her looking at Sheepstealer? And she has some stick thing idk it looked like a shepherd's cane to me.

And immediately after that we have a shot of a dragon flying over another lake. It looks like the same one? I was thinking it might also be Jace on Vermax when he's delivering his messages to the Vale and Winterfell? Omg but so many dragons this season!! I'm so excited to see all of them.

Going back to Daemon, he's definitely on a war path this season, we have that first shot of him grabbing his helmet and storming off, presumably to battle, then he's beheading someone in front of a Weirwood tree. One thing I really found interesting about the time jump in season 1 was how subdued older Daemon was compared to his younger self, even when he killed Vaemond he played it off so nonchalantly. But then in episode 10 he's just desperate to make a show of strength and end the conflict quickly and violently, with Rhaenyra being the one who has to restrain him. So I'm interested to see how their dynamic as a couple will play out, and to see a return to form for Daemon as a force of nature.

Aemond being the very next frame after Daemon swings his sword oof. I'll get more into Aemond in a bit because I will talk about him forever and ever amen once I get started. But that LOOK, my man is yearning for the throne and we're all obsessed.

0:38, that looks like Seasmoke to me, which would mean the person standing in front of the dragon is Laenor or Addam of Hull. I don't really have an opinion about Laenor possibly coming back, we'll just see what happens. Would be quite devastating for Corlys and Rhaenys though, after mourning their son for 6 years.

speaking of mourning sons Helaena looks so stunning in 0:40. I tried to avoid those leaks but these look like they're from Jaehaerys' funeral procession. I'm looking forward to more prophetic stuff from Helaena, hopefully get more into her relationship with her family. I just hope she gets the time she deserves in the show because in the book she very much exists in the background, especially after Blood and Cheese. And the audacity of them to show a shot of the Dragonpit before Helaena, that's just cruel 🥺

UM ALSO 0:52. Took me a second to register what was happening the first time I watched this. Something that really stands out to me is how gentle Helaena's expression is (unless I'm misreading Phia's face completely) but that is something that's mentioned in the book, Helaena supposedly met them very calmly. I just know Phia Saban is going to do an amazing job in this scene and I'm absolutely terrified to see it play out.

Ok going back again, there's some battle scene or whatever, that's cool ig.

0:45-0:47 Rhaenys' voiceover, her and Rhaenyra (I'm guessing at Dragonstone) and then BAELA!! Again, I'm really hoping for some canon divergence from the book because I am so down to see Baela being utilised more! That's something I didn't really get about the book, Baela has Morning but they only participate in one battle. I'm thinking this is her at Rook's Rest, seeing Rhaenys die or getting there too late.

0:53 Duel of the Cargyll twins? omg :(

And to finish off, the shots of Aemond, then Rhaenyra, then Vhagar. Excited to see Rhaenyra being more active in the fighting. Although her unwillingness to fight her own battles was something that was used against her in F&B, I think it feels very much in line with what we saw of her in season 1.

Aemond looks SO GOOD, and I know these probably won't be from the same scene, but with the shots of him and Rhaenyra being one after the other, I feel like there could be something there about the (for what of a better word) rivalry between them in the aftermath of Luke's death. If we got to see them face off against each other or have some kind of interaction, that would be insane.

Ok now I'm going to ramble about my war criminal princess 🥰

So we all know one of the biggest talking points of the season 1 finale was the part Aemond played in Luke's death and what this means for him as a character moving forward.

It's really interesting to compare HotD Aemond vs F&B Aemond, because in the book he comes across as a lot more abrasive, ruthless and impulsive. In the show, Aemond is an imposing but understated presence which is so unnerving and so captivating to watch, and then he has these moments where his anger comes out. I think in episode 8, his anger feels deliberate when he reacts to Luke laughing at him at the dinner, it's all a threat and a reminder of what he's capable of. It's all to get a reaction and it works, he insults the Strong boys, laughs off Jace's punch, but the moment he comes face to face with Daemon he backs down. Then we have Storm's End in episode 10. His anger is meant to intimidate again, but the difference is that there's no one to make him back down, so he takes things too far, chases Luke and is helpless to stop Vhagar when she goes in for the kill.

I love what Ewan Mitchell has said about the bond between Aemond and Vhagar, how their bond has changed his view of himself and shaped the person he becomes. He's bonded to an ancient war dragon, he's an ambitious second son who has to settle for being a supporting act to his useless older brother, and he's been through a lot of physical and emotional trauma since childhood, so while he's trying to play the part of Alicent's golden child, he's had all this pain simmering under the surface, which was inevitably going to reach boiling point.

I think it makes perfect sense that Aemond's first kill was 'accidental' considering he's never had any experience with actual combat, but this doesn't mean it has to detract from his character and in fact I think this lends itself to the tragedy of his story. Enough people have said it but I think he'll come back to King's Landing, get a right bollocking from Alicent and Otto, and he'll play it off as though he killed Luke to avenge his missing eye. The alternative is admitting that he doesn't have full control of his dragon, not a great sign considering she is the Green's most important asset in the war. B&C is going to devastate their whole family but with Aemond has to carry the guilt of being the one who drew first blood, and I think from there we'll really see him lean into this persona of The Kinslayer and become more ruthless and overtly violent. AND THEN after Rook's Rest and Aegon's injury, Aemond will become Regent and will be closer to the throne than he ever has been or ever will be.

I think he's just going to become completely insane and even more unhinged and I'm absolutely buzzing to see it all go down. Just please, HBO, for the love of God, give him more than one outfit.

Additional thoughts:

I wonder if they'll keep the GoT theme for the opening credits? I kinda want something new, maybe a bit darker? Either way, so excited for new stuff from Ramin Djawadi

No Daeron which isn't looking good, yikes. Dare we hold out hope he'll show up in a later season? But then there was a shot of the Hightower army in the teaser and he'd be with them

We also have no Cregan Stark which surprised me because I really thought they'd play up nostalgia points with Winterfell

No Sunfyre :(

No Caraxes :( unless we count that quick shot of Daemon in his saddle.

No Dreamfyre, but this is less surprising

I'm nitpicking now, but I would have liked a shot of the Velaryon Fleet too, that would have been cool

#me when i overshare #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd season 2 #aemond targaryen

33 notes · View notes