GREGORY and HYACINTH BRIDGERTON

12 DAYS OF AEMOND TARGARYEN-MAS

❛ no, that was last week's party. ❜  he  said ,  ❛ dad never said anything about this week's party. ❜

       there  was  a  casual  shrug  at  his  words ,  his  eyes  shifting  from  valarr  to  the  indulgences  around  them .  he  was  smart  enough  not  to  engage  in  what  would  truly  get  them  all  in  trouble ,  though  that  did  not  mean  he  hadn’t  completely  abstained  from  sipping  at  a  beer .  it  was  too  gross  for  him  to  drink  any  more  than  just a  sip ,  so  he  kept  to  the  sherbet  sticks  daeron  had  given  him  instead .

❛ anyway, uncle rhae thinks that cottage cheese on cucumber slices is a party snack. he calls it nachos, he's insane! i am not eating that. i want pizza, and waffles, and daeron lets me have them! ❜

valarr's frown, if at all possible, deepens further as he turns his disapproving gaze on his cousin. his grip tightens on the neck of his bottle, even as he reaches his other hand out to catch the sleeve of aegon's shirt, tugging the boy with him as he jostles his way through the crowd, until they emerge into a quieter corner — quiet in the sense that the walls aren't vibrating from the volume of the music blaring from the speakers. confident now that aegon will be able to hear him, valarr doesn't hesitate to launch into his scolding. ❛  you shouldn't be taking advantage of uncle rhae, regardless of his views on proper nutritional intake.  ❜ it's a fine line, he's found, between acknowledging that their uncle occasionally requires additional support and infantilising him, but his point stands. aegon shouldn't be taking advantage of anyone, but particularly not their sweet - natured, trusting uncle. ❛  and daeron thinks an energy drink and a cigarette constitutes a balanced breakfast, he's a bad example.  ❜

( his own eating habits, or lack thereof, are none of aegon's business, he decides. )

📅 How long have you been roleplaying, and what got you started?

🌊 Do you prefer plotting everything out or going with the flow?

🪞 How similar are you to your muse(s)?

🎭 What’s your favourite genre to roleplay (angst, fluff, horror, etc.)?

💖 What’s a trope you love and will never get tired of?

🚫 What’s a trope you avoid or dislike?

🎧 Do you associate songs with your muse(s)? If so, share one!

🥹 Do you ever get emotionally affected by your threads?

🛋️ What’s your ideal RP writing environment (music, silence, chaos)?

✨ What’s your favourite thing about your muse(s)?

⏳ How long does it usually take you to reply to threads?

📝 Do you prefer short replies or long, detailed ones?

🏆 What’s your proudest thread or RP moment?

🌐 Do you enjoy crossovers with other fandoms?

🕵️ Do you stalk blogs before following them? Be honest.

💕 Who are you having the most fun writing with, at the moment?

😶 Are you shy about approaching new RP partners?

🌟 Where do you get inspiration for your writing?

🖼️ Do you make edits, moodboards, or playlists for your muse(s)?

😭 What’s the saddest scene you’ve ever written?

✈️ If your muse(s) could go anywhere, where would they go?

🎁 What’s a random fun fact about you (the mun)?

💻 Do you RP mostly on mobile or desktop?

🌙 Have you ever stayed up way too late just to reply?

🎲 Do you like doing random starter calls or planned plots more?

🤔 What’s something you’ve never tried in RP but want to?

✍️ Has your writing style changed over time? How?

🎯 Do you set personal goals for your RP (activity, improvement, etc.)?

🧪 Have you ever experimented with a completely different writing style or format?

🧑‍🎨 Do you prefer original characters, canon characters, or a mix?

📊 How much research do you do for your threads (if any)?

🔐 Do you keep secrets about your muse(s) from other writers on purpose?

✏️ Do you write outside of RP (stories, poetry, etc.)?

⛰️ What’s the hardest part of roleplaying for you?

🧱 What helps you get out of writer’s block?

📐 Do you prefer long-term threads or short interactions?

🚪 How do you usually start a new thread? Dialogue, action, or description?

⛓️‍💥 Have you ever taken a long break from RP? What brought you back?

🧠 Do you believe muses “have a mind of their own”?

✂️ How much do you edit your replies before posting?

🎬 Has any media (show/movie/game) recently inspired your RP?

🌀 Do you enjoy chaotic threads or calmer, character-focused ones?

🌱 How do you develop your muse(s) over time?

⚡ What’s something small that instantly makes you excited to reply?

📥 Have you ever adopted ideas from other writers into your own headcanon?

⚔️ Do you like conflict-heavy plots or softer dynamics more?

🪫 How do you handle losing motivation for a thread?

📦 If you had to move your RP somewhere else, where would you go?

🛑 Do you have any RP boundaries or topics you will not write?

😤 Do you have any pet peeves when it comes to RP partners or threads?

💌 Do you prefer people to DM you for plotting, or just jump into asks/starters?

🔄 How do you feel about dropping threads vs. pushing through them?

🫶 What makes you feel most appreciated as an RP partner?

👤 Do you ever write characters very different from yourself on purpose?

📚 Do you reread your old threads? Why or why not?

“ do you not ? ” he chides softly, head cocked to the side slightly as he looks at his son. he does not truly believe it. his son is concerned, but he does not think he fails to see why he had acted as he had. “ when i am gone, my titles shall be yours. all of them. that may include protector of the realm. ” it is not a matter of if, but of when, and the trial had shown it could happen even when he did not think of it. he does not say you shall be king. he might have, once, but this too has taught him he may be gone before such a thing may happen. his father is young still, and if the gods are good, shall have many years as king yet. perhaps the realm would go from king daeron the good to king valarr — and it would be in good hands, and he would be satisfied with that. he had seen his son grow, and was he not the proudest he could ever imagine himself to be at him ? he hopes not to hand such a burden to his son for years to come, if the gods were good... his thoughts dissolve, the train of thought lost as he sees the youth in his face. HE IS YOUNG, HIS SON. older, yes, than he had been when the title of prince of dragonstone had passed to him. but younger still by a few years than he had been when he had ridden to war, when he had knelt before his own father before leaving to fight and when his other title had been bestowed.

“ there is much i ought to have done different, but not fighting for ser duncan. a hedge knight should not be defending our smallfolk from us. that ought to have never happened. ” how many hedge knights had joined them in the war ? how many had bled and died for father's throne ? they needed them, as they needed the lords and landed knighted, and the commonfolk who had marched with them. “ what do you believe it says, that they saw aerion attack a girl, that his guards agreed to it, and no one intervened save him ? ” he cannot keep the disappointment from his voice. at aerion, at the lords, at the knights. it had been unwise from ser duncan to strike at a prince — unwise, and against the law. and yet, had no one thought to interviene before ? that it was aerion eats at him still. he was a PRINCE OF THE ROYAL FAMILY. if anyone should have behaved well, it should have been them. he breathes, before his thoughts are lost to him once more.

❛  do not speak to me of when you are gone.  ❜ as it is, they had come far too close to that very scenario becoming a reality he would have been forced to inhabit, had the strength of his uncle's arm proved truer. and valarr, perhaps foolishly, had found himself entirely unprepared for the possibility, regardless of whatever readiness he had imagined himself to possess. it is one thing, to contemplate a life without one's father, many years from now, long since touched by age and the wisdom it imbues — it is another entirely to have one's father abruptly, violently, ripped from your hands. tongue loosened by fear, his words are a blade, cutting cleanly through the air stretched taut between them. so sharply, in fact, he nearly expects to see the lacerations on his father's skin as they find their mark, and they burn with a cold that steals the breath from even valarr himself. the heel of his palm digs harshly into his sternum, as though the pressure will coax his lungs into filling once more.

his mother had been the first to discover his tendency to become short of breath when overwhelmed by strong feeling, a creeping sense of dread stealing across his skin and leaving tremors in its wake. jena had found him curled up beneath his bed, that first time, eventually coaxing him out with soft voice and gentle hands — he wants nothing more than to be safely ensconced now. he wants his mother. he wants to sink into his father's arms and allow himself to be comforted, reassured, as he hasn't been since he was small. but valarr is used, by now, to denying himself that comfort; there is no place for weakness in a prince of the blood. on that much, at least, he can agree with his cousin. the bite of his nails sinking into the flesh of his palms as he curls his hands into fists, the ache of the strain in his knuckles, it is all a grounding pain, which brings the world back into sharp relief — he hadn't realised his vision had begun to soften and blur at the edges. there is a loathsomely breathless quality to his voice, when he finds it again, indignation having loosened its hold on his words at last. ❛  what it says is that my uncle is either unwilling or unable to take a firm hand with aerion, and certainly incapable of curbing his worst, most contemptible impulses.  ❜

❛ it wasn't a tale, ❜  he  reiterated ,  ❛ just because i... added a few extra details, that doesn't mean it's all a lie. ❜

❛  aegon.  ❜ it is the same patient, even tone of voice that baelor often employs when offering explanations, particularly those that his children might find... dissatisfying, and which drives matarys mad whenever valarr emulates it during his brotherly lectures. ❛  if one embellishes the truth so liberally that it no longer resembles the truth... then it is become a lie, cousin.  ❜ though, he is not convinced that aegon does not know this already — he's no foolish boy, by any measure, only one with poor control over his impulses, perhaps. a trait shared with his eldest brothers, regrettably.