#sunfyred

[fatestaken]

aegon / @sunfyred said: ❝ i'm afraid. ❞ ft. alicent hightower (king & conqueror prompts - accepting)

victory is so close that alicent can practically taste its sweetness upon her tongue and yet the reservations of her eldest son briefly make her pause. she is asking much of him (and helaena) but it is not only she who asks but the gods themselves. to disregard her son's inheritance would be to make a mockery of the laws of the realms and who is she to do such a thing?

for a moment, she sees not her eldest son, soon to be crowned king of the seven kingdoms, but her firstborn, the silver-haired toddler she had watched take his first steps across the nursery. she sees not the man he has become but the child he once was and she feels her heart stutter in her chest. no longer is he the child that she can sit upon her knee and soothe with honeyed words and a gentle kiss to the brow. this should be the moment where she firmly chastises him for an admission that their enemies would all too easy fault him for given that fear is so synonymous with weakness but she finds herself compelled not to offer admonition but soothing assurance as if he is naught but a child with a bruised knee.

'do not be afraid, aegon. the gods are with you: the realm's rightful king.' she replies calmly as a beringed hand extends forward to gently thread through her son's silver tresses. he, along with his siblings, are her magnum opus, her life's greatest achievement and she will stop at nothing to see them thrive, even if she must coax them through their own fears to do so. 'you were born for this. you may not believe it but I have believed it from the first moment i held you in my arms.' so much time has passed that aegon now has children of his own and yet, she can remember the moment he first drew breath like it was yesterday.

nothing could have prepared her for the sheer ferocity of love she had felt first for her eldest and then for his siblings in due time and that fierceness had not abated with time, but rather grown in magnitude. 'fear is natural but do not let it cow you into hiding in the shadows. let it drive you to overcome all that stands in your way.' in their way for whomever and whatever threatens her son also threatens her.

'and you will never walk alone. I will be with you, always.'

[blacknoch]

𝔖trange are the croonings of dragons in the night. how strange it must be to common men she thinks as she stands there in the presence of everything, everything, from there upon the balcony-to lay there beside wife and child in slumberous lull, in their house of thatch, while monsters call out from the pitch. the great ozgog shrieks out there amid the reach of blackness, and it pummels them over, the buck of cannon fire to the ear. she can feel it in her bones. the hair on her neck rises. ' when last had you flown, your grace. '

@sunfyred

[staffdestroyed]

❛ you saved me. how ? ❜

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ PROMPTED .

HANDS ARE STEEPED IN BLOOD ; an animal sacrifice is not enough to bring the king back from a death by burning , from the armour melted into his very skin . nathaniel loathes the sacrificial knife biting into the palm of his own hand , sending rivulets into the bowl that is to act as a call to the spirits on the other side . they never come willingly ; one must wrangle and threaten until they do your bidding , until they drag the young king from the veil and set to stitching his skin and limbs together . IT IS NOT A PRETTY THING ; the demon , in guise of a grotesque half - bird half - dragon , chatters and snaps his teeth and curses nathaniel as he does his bidding . the crunch of bones is no better in the room , but nathaniel knows , as much distaste as he has to it , that this is necessary .

once the demon is dismissed , the king will wake in time . nathaniel does not bother to clean up ; bloodied and pale , he sits at the edge of the bed . exhaustion threatens to keel him over , but still , he stays . he will let no maester claim his handywork or , worse , ruin it , and so he waits for purple eyes to open , and is satisfied when they do .

❛ you saved me. how ? ❜

a tired smirk of satisfaction pulls at his lips . ' there are things the maesters and septons do not know , your grace . i wield such things . but do not fret ; you are safe . as safe as your circumstances allow . ' he watches this young man --- barely older than he , set to wear a crown . nathaniel does not concern himself with whether it is false or not , whether this man is an usurper or not . but that he sits the throne now is unrefuted . ' take care , your sight may not be what it was just yet . to be pulled from death is no mere event. '

[rcsegildedarchive]

@sunfyred

It was their second royal visit in a year and--only a few days in--already markedly different from the last.

Months ago, Princess Rhaenyra and her family had filled the halls of Highgarden with noise and laughter, rivaling the merriment seen during high holidays and harvest celebrations. They had all been invigorating guests, particularly elder princes and their twin cousins. Margaery had been only too pleased to indulge their curiosities, leading them on explorations of the grounds and anything within a few hours' ride of the castle.

In contrast to their predecessors, the queen's visit was rather...subdued. There had been the usual fanfare at their arrival and lavish feasts each evening but the days seemed to drag on. Princess Helaena and Queen Alicent were not half so adventurous their counterparts so Margaery found herself confined to gardens, solars, and even the sept as she and her mother attended the royal women. Chatting and sewing but without enough courtly intrigue to truly interest her.

She had only just left the queen's borrowed chambers, feeling restless and itching with the urge to do something diverting. Her cousins would be waiting to hear all that the queen had said. Perhaps she could entice them into a swim or even a long ride with the tidbits or--

A glimpse of silvery hair at the end of the long hall broke her concentration and quickly put to the rest any hope of reprieve from House Targaryen.

For one awful moment, she thought he might be Prince Aemond. Despite his gentile manner, there was an edge to him that she did not care for...and she'd been placed next to him at dinner too often for her liking. But the moment passed and she saw him true. Dread turned to irritation, though only at his unknowing interruption. Margaery quickly pushed down the discontent and slipped back into her role as host. Easy smile, relaxed manner, kind eyes, and hands clasped securely behind her back.

"Good morning, Prince Aegon," she called, her stride slowing as she approached him. "Your wife and mother are just down the hall, if you're looking for them. The twins, too." A pause, then. "Is there anything you need?"

[vvitchlings]

sunfyred asked: "this   seat   taken ?" ›        FIRST   LINE   PROMPTS 

gold flecked eyes do not look up from her usual spot of interest ; ahead of her. ( dining with mortals . . . how far they have fallen . ) " the seat is vacant. " she replied crisply. of course , the blackbeak heir has done her research. his standing does pay considerable tribute. but manon did not see him as anything but 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖙𝖍. though . . . his smell. it was beguiling. it would be enticing to bed him , she'd presume. to take his life bit by bit. watch the light leave his eyes.

[azmenka]

🫧🪷🍑

very specific munday asks . always accepting .

🫧 Why did you pick this particular muse?

phew , that was a fun and idiotic kinda story . . . I was running solo blogs for Jaime , Gendry and Robb back when , and considered starting the multi with Victarion on it . at the time the Theon RPer I regularly wrote with on Robb created this little semi - group RP with friends that solely consisted of the Greyjoy clan and me , easily influenced and inspired , thought that that looked like a ton of fun , I wanna be part of that - but the group already had a player for Victarion . so I went through the Greyjoy wiki and stumbled upon Theon's dead older brothers . I first considered playing Rodrik cos the large brute usually is completely my type , but then remembered I already had a few of those . . . and it's the smart muses , usually , that are a lot more fun . so going on nothing other than knowing that Maron was a notorious liar and known for his " cruel japes " I went to work and made a blog for this POS within two days . the group pretty much fell apart a month into making the blog but the shitsquid simply stuck with me and has grown so so much since then . fast forward to . . . six years later and he's my alltime favourite muse I've ever roleplayed .

🪷 Whose writing do you admire?

there's so many talented writers , especially in this fandom but the writers that not only constantly leave me in awe but also inspire me to go better and bigger on every reply , constantly pushing my muses and interpretations and world-building while handing out amazing prose each time , definitely would be @loreforged , @warriorfavoured and @walkpathe . the ease with which we pinpong replies off of each other in an incredibly natural flow is so so much fun and I'm forever grateful to have those three in my life .

🍑 What is something you hyperfocus on in your portrayal?

. . . everything ? I honestly don't know . maybe on the idea that Maron is both incredibly casual but intense at the same time ? the black sheep , really , in pretty much every room he sets foot in . that his upbringing and the reputation of his family forever are some kind of chip on his shoulder . and still almost everything he does seems so nonchalant and effortless , simply because he is so incredibly good at lying and bullshitting and pulling the wool over people's eyes that he has perfected that mask of an enigmatic , fearless leader - with all those thick layers of feelings buried underneath . also , that he's cocky . I don't know why , I just love to make that crystal clear whenever I can x)

[stormbcrn]

dany && loreon for the if they had a kid meme ! 😭

introducing: aegon, the faithless! | @sunfyred / @nothonors

Name: aegon targaryen Gender: male General Appearance: golden curls kept just below his ears, dark violet eyes bordering on magenta, freckles, average height and slim build. Personality: hot-headed, loyal, flirtatious, clever / manipulative, self-important, determined Special Talents: dragonriding - aegon is the dragonrider of moonfyre, archery, languages + history Who they like better: daenerys (sorry but it's true!!!) Who they take after more: he is a near-balanced blend of both his mother and his father, though having turned from away from the faith and being disavowed by his father, aegon resents the parts of himself he sees his father in Personal Headcanon: aegon puts his father to death :)

fc : n!els schne!der

[loreforged]

it should be harder, she thinks, for a princess to escape from under her septa and nursemaids' watchful eyes.

but septa enith is old, with skin like crinkly paper when she frowns, which is all the time, and clara, her favourite nursemaid, is more like to fuss over maelor than she is to concern herself with what the silent, mild - mannered little princess is occupying herself with, not when jaehaera requires perhaps the least tending to in comparison to her brothers. only, today, it is not her dolls or wooden blocks that hold jaehaera's attention. it is navigating the halls of maegor's holdfast, her frown deepening as each twist and turn fails to reveal what it is she is looking for. no one questions her presence, perhaps because her persistent shadow, ser willis, walks at her back, guarding her from harm. they must make for a strange pair, a tiny princess and her hulking knight.

eventually, her feet carry her exactly where she wants them to. her father's rooms. the guard at the door only exchanges a look with ser willis, a raised brow and a nod of the head, before he steps aside to allow her entry, her protector remaining at the door with his comrade. messy, she thinks, taking in the state of the room with another frown. it reminds her of the nursery after maelor has had one of his fits of temper, his tantrums. it doesn't take her long to spot her father, still asleep, despite the sun being high in the sky, and jaehaera clambers carefully onto the bed to sit beside him. reaching out, she pokes his cheek, the one not squashed into his pillow, gently.

' kepa. '

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