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#aeg*
phoenixyfriend · 1 year
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[squints at the MCU] Tony Stark has displayed more ability to weather interrogation and torture than Steve Rogers.
This is "(displayed more)(ability)," not "(displayed)(more ability)," to be clear.
(I know fiction’s depiction of torture is famously propagandafied, but in this case, it’s not about torture for information so much as physical traumas shown on screen.)
(Anyway, have a rant I did on discord the other day.)
It's not really so much about "resisted the urge to hand over information" as "survived a truly harrowing experience and still came out of it trying to do good."
Tony's very first movie involves getting repeatedly drowned while in constant pain from bomb injuries as a civilian contractor, and I… don't think I can remember anything even a little similar with Steve
I don't think he's ever been captured for long before breaking out? All his injuries are in active battle, not torture.
Like... Steve went through something horrible with the ice and losing Bucky, nobody can argue that. But I think it's very telling, sometimes, that movie Steve, especially 2012 movie Steve, is completely unaware of the absolute nightmare that Tony experienced in his solo movies.
I have so many feelings about Tony Stark being the epitome of "guy who was raised and manipulated into being a bad person by someone he trusted, and (after a horrible experience) attempts to be a better person, constantly and consistently, even if he sometimes fucks up in the execution."
And the way that some fics elide his experiences in cleaning up other people's messes (first Obadiah's, then Howard's) and how that doubtlessly compounded his many neuroses from fixing messes that he did actually create himself is just
I have a lot of feelings
And am also feeling a little bitter and salty about how Tony Stark's MCU incarnation reportedly took some inspo from Elon Musk... and a little petty and satisfied about just how drastically we've all be shown that Musk can never live up to the idea of 'billionaire with inherited wealth who actually, without hesitation, risks his own life to save millions' that he tried to use PR to achieve in the media with 'my electric cars are gonna save the world' stunts about things he didn't actually have a hand in inventing
I'm just reading some fics I really enjoyed when I was still in the YA fandom, and there was a reference to a line Steve said in the movies and I started thinking (again) about how frequently fans take lines from Steve or Sam about Tony as gospel, because they haven't seen Tony's movies, and the lines from the star spangled boys are contextually meant to show that they don't know jackshit about Tony or his life, because they are directly contradicted by multiple prior films.
Also like... how often Steve's traumas get explored (in fic) in a way that Tony's just... don't? At most, his issues about Howard get explored, but that's it.
There's this moment in CACW that people take as Accurate and it infuriates me.
Tony Stark: [Back in the cell.] Just look. Because that is the fellow who was supposed to interrogate Barnes. [He shows a holographic image of Doctor Broussard.] Clearly, I made a mistake. Sam, I was wrong. Sam Wilson: That's a first.
Which, like... it's a bad movie. Obviously. But also
That line is immediately followed by Tony revealing that he's here to help the others and is sabotaging the security to make sure Ross can't take advantage, and yet fanfic still uses Sam's quote to promote anti-Tony agendas!
And 'Tony admits he fucked up' is. Like. Listen to me
Tony's first solo movie is fixing Obadiah's machinations. *
His second solo movie is fixing his Dad's fuckup.
His first team movie is fixing Thor's mistakes.
His third solo movie is fixing something that is only tangentially his fault.
It's not until AoU that the fuck-up is really his and his alone (well, not counting Bruce), and even then, even then, a massive portion of the blame is narratively laid at Wanda's feet!
And only then do we get this man, who has spent five movies seeing what happens when people don't take responsibility for their actions, or have anyone riding them to be ethical, who has criticized himself for neither having that oversight nor providing that oversight for people who snuck shit under his nose, that is when we get Tony weighing in on the side of "most countries on the planet are agreeing with this and it's for a reason, please work with me here, maybe we can get some of it rolled back to be less authoritarian and more reasonable."
* and removing himself from the military industrial complex he was raised and groomed to be in, but that's a system and not an individual act or a set 'villain'
Or as @firebirdeternal put it:
I would say that his first solo movie does have a large element of fixing his own mistakes too, it's just that his "mistake" was Trusting the Wrong Person and not taking personal responsibility for how his actions are affecting the world. (Which, he immediately does upon coming back from being captured? "We're going to immediately stop making weapons, because it's making the world worse" and then when Obadiah cuts him out of the company he goes "Oh. Okay no that didn't work, have to personally fix all this then.") and yeah it's just Tony have plenty of reasons to be on the side of "Someone needs to have oversight over this"
IM1 is such a good exploration of someone in privilege saying "this stops now" in a situation where they do have control because they have been confronted with their mistakes in a way that's unavoidable
It's also like, a great example of the fantasy of the Super Hero. Because Tony Stark, the businessman, even with all his wealth and knowledge, isn't able to stop the systemic harm being caused by His Own Company. One person isn't able to do that, even with the best of intentions. It isn't until he becomes something else, something more, a Super Hero, that he's able to make any kind of meaningful change on his own. Like IM1 is just a phenomenal movie. It understood it's subject material so incredibly well.
And people skip it and then take Steve and Sam at their word about Tony's strength of character and moral convictions and I scream.
THIS MAN FLEW A NUKE INTO A WORMHOLE WITH THE FULL EXPECTATION THAT HE WAS GOING TO DIE
Yeah, like, that Jump on the Grenade mentality is something that he and Steve actually literally share.
They both had 'jump on the explosive to save people' moments in their introductory movies.
I find so much more strength and inspiration in stories like Thor and Tony, where they are inherently fuck-ups and were shitty people and they are trying so damn hard to be better, which is more Tony than Thor really, but both of them and their first movies are just. I find that more inspiring than Steve or T'Challa or any other hero who was already a good person and just Became Great.
Tell me about the person who has to struggle to find that moral choice. Tell me about Natasha dragging herself from her oceans of blood and Tony fighting the government over whether they have the rights to use weapons he's created and about Thor having to reckon with his family's power being born of imperialistic ravaging of other cultures.
I want to hear about the people for whom being good is hard and a choice they don't have to make, but then they make it anyway.
Also I stand by "I am Iron Man. [infinity snap]" being the most amazing bookend the MCU could have done and probably the best part of the Endgame.
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rat-on-string · 2 months
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having tons of fun doing portraits! I was trying my hand at the disco elysium portrait style again. I don't think its 100% accurate, but i like it enough!
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chaoticallywriting · 1 year
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A Merciful King ☼ Epilogue
Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Reader
Warnings: talk of death, blood, torture, childbirth
Word Count: 5.6k
A/N: It has been exactly a month and fourteen days since I posted the first chapter to this series (on my old account). I had no clue it would go this far or that so many would love it, I'm so used to my writing not being received at all or only being received by very few. The response I've gotten for this story is overwhelming and honestly I love all of you guys for the support you've given me. Despite being ready for a new story I think I'll always have a soft spot for amk and I know I'll miss this series. On a story note, the second to last like 'scene' is both of their povs, mainly readers but I decided to mesh their thoughts in certain bits. I also took inspiration for the crown from jesus because despite not being religious I like the flare of it.
Synopsis: The war is over, the blacks have lost, and as Rhaenrya’s daughter it is your duty to marry a green to secure your younger brothers safety. If only Aemond paid attention to you like his brother does.    
Taglist, if you asked to be tagged and you aren't on the list it's because it wouldn't let me add you so I just got rid of your name. It only lets me tag 50 people so I'm sorry!: @mirandastuckinthe80s @b1gb3anz @daenerysdracarys @wondergal2001 @flavorofsalt @daddysfavoritesexkitten @zillahvathek @itsametaphorbriansblog @elleclairez @stargaryenx @tired-ninfa @caramelcandescence @viscardiac @moonxhunt @tisthekatseason @bajadotcom @xxlilyxx90 @ohitsthemaster @justasmallbean @thefloatingpickle @lawlerek @miqaelababa @arcielee @watermel0nsugarhigh @lovecleastrange @lyannesworld @imakeangelscry @aloneatpeace @xinyourdreamsx @cl-0-vr @borikenlove @shion-ah @widemiffyhappy @aegonsgf @bwormie @bellameshipper @evienorville @mandiiblanche @hydrationqueensworld @shiranai-atsune @hiatuswhore @giulia2372 @venice-bish @malfoytargaryen @crudemoon @crispmarshmallow @trifoliumviridi @wooya1224
Previously
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Aegon Targaryen dutifully stays by your side while you recover. He doesn’t move from the rather uncomfortable chair, nor does his hand leave yours. Unfortunately, none of the lords nor guards were able to locate his brother, only found two different trails of blood. One leading from a study to the ballroom and the other leading from the same study to where Aemonds bastard son, Jaerion, was sleeping.
He has already told his mother his decision, that when you wake up he will marry you. She only nods, face solemn, as she goes back to mourning her favorite son. He’s not dead, that much is obvious by Vhagar’s behavior, but he is gone. The preparations have already begun, he’s decided the ceremony will be in the Grand Sept and a celebration will be held in the gardens. He understands why you might have an aversion to the ballroom.
Aegon tells you all of this while you sleep, there are only a few times you wake up from your milk of the poppy induced slumber and all you speak is gibberish. You ask for your handmaid Lila, you keep mumbling her name, but unfortunately no one can find her. 
Your marriage has been annulled, Aegon made sure of it during one of the most recent small council meetings (it's the only time he leaves your side). The small folk had shown so much outrage at learning that their favorite princess had been hurt by her own husband. 
Many began to gossip that something seemed amiss that day during the festival, that he seemed too tense and neither of you seemed to even notice each other's presence. This fairy tale that they were spoon fed was a lie, and all of Flea Bottom knows that the reason children are no longer dying of starvation is thanks to you. 
He tasks his mother and daughter to have your wedding dress made, the royal tailors already have your measurements so that should be easy. Giving them this task helps ease his daughter's anxiety, he even asks her to see if the boys would like to help. His only request is that the dress did not have any green on it, much to his mothers dismay. Aegon knows how much you’ve grown to hate the color, and he wants this to be a memorable and lovely day. 
“I love you,” he whispers, you groan in response.
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Upon fully waking up, Aegon is filled with something he has not felt since Jaehaerys’s murder. You tell him and Alicent everything, it’s hard to ignore the face she makes when you mention stabbing Aemond, but you simply remind them both of what Alys has done. 
He wants to send out search parties all throughout the free cities, to put her head on a spike, and you keep quiet throughout his raging, not minding the idea. It is Alicent that shoots him down and reminds him of how that may make the leaders of said cities believe he is trying to attack them. 
So instead, search parties are sent all throughout Westeros (once again) looking for your handmaiden. Upon waking up, one of the first things you did was ask for Lila, Aegon had foolishly believed that maybe the two of you harbored a friendship, so imagine his surprise to find out the truth.
He feels the same outrage you do, those handmaidens were picked by him and his mother, and yet one was the reason for all of this? A taster is hired, all your meals are tested before being brought to you, and all of your handmaidens have been swapped.
“What kind of flowers?” he asks you one day, leaning on his hand that’s propped up by his elbow. He’s laying at the end of your bed, watching you sip on the broth the maesters brought you. ‘It has healing properties’ they said, but the face you keep making leads him to believe it’s just a new form of torture for you. Nevertheless, you drink all of it, every day since waking up you've drank and everyday you comment on how rancid it is. 
“Dragons breath, and black lotus’s. They’ll perfectly display our house colors,” you set the empty mug aside and reach out for him. Aegon eagerly moves from his position at the end of the bed to lay beside you, pulling you into his arms and kissing the top of your head. 
He’s more at ease now that he doesn’t have to hide his love for you, some of that possessiveness and jealousy has waned away. Aegon is finally being granted his wish of calling you his, he just wishes so much tragedy hadn’t taken place to get here. 
“I want them filling the Sept,” you say, arms wrapping around his waist. Your eyes seem elsewhere, perhaps dreaming of the upcoming day. He’s thought about it with great detail and finds himself wistfully imagining the rest of his life with you. 
It makes Aegon feel like a silly child, like he needs to be scolded and reminded he cannot have such wonderful things. Yet you are in his arms, agreeing to marry him. When you woke up, and he told you the news, there was no fighting, no resentment or anger, only a sigh of relief. 
“Would you want a valyrian ceremony?” He knows there will need to be one following the faith of the seven, the lords and ladies will not approve of their marriage if they don’t. But perhaps, if you want, there can be another one, a more intimate one.
It’s silent for a few beats, your expression contemplative and lips pursed. “No,” you run your fingers up and down his chest, your eyes almost glazed over as you look at Rhaenyra’s bassinet. “I do not want to shed any more blood for a long time.” 
Part of Aegon feels relieved, if you had said yes he would do it, but the idea of seeing you bleed again (it’s only been a month) terrifies him. That night you laid limp in his arms as the Maesters got to work, they did the best they could while still in the ballroom. Maester Orwell had said they must act fast, that moving you to a private room would have to wait or else you would perish from blood loss. 
Aegon’s hands had been stained red for days, Alicents too. He had held his hand on top of the wound with his mother, trying to help in any way. Some courtiers stayed to watch, while others ran in disgust when they saw how much blood was smeared all over you. Most of the men were gone by that point, having ran out to try to secure themselves a seat on the small council. 
He didn’t realize just how much blood was on him until two guards slowly lifted you onto a wooden board and gently carried you to your chambers. He was knelt in a large puddle, as was his mother, and Aegon had held you for a long period of time. You were smeared all over him, staining his clothes, his hands, some had even gotten on his face.
The poor king was in shock, sat staring at the massive puddle, reflection gazing back at him as tears filled his eyes. You had almost died, the maesters even told them there was a chance you would die within the first few days of recovery. They talked about loss of blood, bed fever or even infection. Somehow you prevailed, and Aegon doesn’t know who or what to thank for such a miraculous thing. 
“I love you,” you murmur, fingers stilling as your gaze shifts to look into his eyes. His face softens, mind being pulled away from the thoughts that plague his mind late into the night, and brings his lips down onto yours. The kiss is chaste, it’s nothing like how he normally kisses you, but perhaps a near-death experience softens a man. 
“I love you too.” 
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You looked radiant, the dress was made of the finest white silks, it was form fitting and had gauzy sleeves and a cape that trailed behind you. There’s little silver dragons on your sleeves and cape, along with a metal belt that looks like a dragon taking flight around your waist. You looked like the perfect Targaryen bride. 
It’s three days after your wedding when the news reaches the both of you about Lila. She was found hiding in a pleasure house in Flea Bottom, apparently trying to make enough money to find safe passage to Pentos. The guards drag her into the throne room while Aegon sits upon the iron throne with his crown nestled perfectly upon his head.
You stand beside the throne in a dress made of black and red fabrics with gold detailing and a valyrian steel circlet that matches Aegon the Conqueror's crown. He had ordered it to be made three days before your wedding and placed it upon your head himself after the two of you had kissed.
The guards shove her onto the floor at the bottom of the steps, hands on their swords as they watch her every move. Aegon wants to order her death immediately, his chest rises and falls as he takes in the traitorous woman who helped kill his son, who tried to kill you. 
Surprisingly, she does not beg, nor does she weep or even look a little scared. Her eyes stay set on you, a hardened expression on her features as she never wavers. Gone is the girl you described her as, and in her stead sits a woman who looks ready to try to finish the job. 
“Why?” Is all you say, voice shaking with barely contained rage. Your hands are clasped together, tightly clenching your fingers as you take her in. All Aegon sees is blood that needs to be shed. He finds himself itching to grab his sword and do it himself, to slice her to bits that he will later feed to Sunfyre. 
“Your stepfather killed my father and little brothers in the war, there wasn’t even anything to bury once he was done with them. My mother followed soon after by her own hand.” Lila grits teeth, chest raising and falling. Her hands have been chained, as have her ankles, but still she yanks on the chains as if she believes herself strong enough to break them. “Alys offered revenge, I was happy to accept.” 
He leans forward, practically seething now. No one else is in the room besides the sworn guards, who happen to be Ser Criston and Ser Arryk. His mother stands on the opposite side of the throne, with Otto beside her. His words will never leave this room, he’s sure of it. “So you killed my son?!” 
Alicent jumps at the volume of his voice, hand clutching her chest, and Otto sighs. His wrinkled hand rubs his forehead, probably disappointed in him yet again. You on the other hand, stay with your back straightened, your hands reddened from irritation as you glare at this woman. You told him how you thought she was a friend, he cannot imagine how you must feel. 
“I believe it was Daemon Targaryen himself who once believed it was okay to seek revenge for the killing of a child, my youngest brother was only four and ten, just like yours was.” Lila briefly looks at him, that same barely contained rage in her eyes, before looking back at you. “A son for a son, Alys called it. I think my mother would have appreciated me seeking what little vengea-” 
You storm over to her, snatching her by her chin and roughly pulling her face up to look into your eyes. Aegon stood, ready to defend you, as he just barely heard your words. 
“Death would be too kind a sentence,” you spit out, “I shall have you tortured in the dungeons for as many years as we can keep you alive, perhaps I might stop by to watch occasionally.”
You shove her to the floor, body shaking as you clench your fists. Aegon comes down to stand beside you, a hand on your shoulder to say ‘I’m here, I understand.’ 
Ser Criston looks to him for confirmation, he seems astonished by the sentence, but all Aegon does is nod. Why would he go against your command when it is you she wrought the most pain against. Aegon grieves his son, misses him too, but Lila betrayed you the most. He won’t take choices from you ever again. 
Criston and Arryk pick her up, beginning to drag her away when she calls out, “you are a wicked beast! I wish I had managed to kill you!” 
He’s astonished by your response, he wants to grab your cheeks and pull you into a kiss when you confidently reply “you’re right, I am a dragon after all, and it will take more than your puny poison to kill me.” 
Gods, he loves you. 
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He had danced with you all night, not a drop of wine was needed after the ceremony, his lips had hardly left yours. All your favorite foods were served, songs you both loved strummed out by the bards. You even picked up Jaehaera and brought her into dance with you two at one point. He had waved Aegon and Viserys over, so they could join too. Aegon never thought he’d have such a joyous wedding, let alone a little family that loved him like this.
Aelar is named heir while you are still a sweaty mess in your birthing bed. His older sisters Jaehaera, Rhaenyra and Saera all crawl onto the bed to get a peek at their little brother, excited giggles filling the room. He lets Otto announce to the kingdom that Aelar is born, he can’t bear to be away from you right now. Not when you're glowing like this, not with his son in your arms. A healthy baby boy who is alive. 
Aegon III and Viserys visit later, both boys having been training in the yard when the news broke out. The labor had been quick, so had Saera’s thank goodness. They ask to pick the egg out themselves and the two older girls all but demand to come with, Aegon watches as you smile at their childish bickering, little Aelar still in your arms. 
“Would you like to hold him?” You ask, voice low enough that the kids don’t notice. Honestly, Aegon is scared too. He had practically snatched Saera out of your arms when she was born, so excited for another child to spoil, but Aelar is smaller and the past still haunts the both of you. 
He nods, heart pounding as you slowly shift him into his arms, the second yours are free Saera climbs into them. She’s only just turned one, her brain probably has no clue what’s going on. The both of you had decided to wait for another child after Rhaenyra, the trauma left behind was too fresh. Both of you were scared that another birth would take you, or that you would perhaps deal with another stillborn. 
By now, Rhaenyra is five and an absolute spitfire, she constantly talks and always wants snuggles from her father before bedtime. It was due to her that Saera was born, she had begged for a little sibling despite Jaehaera telling her ‘they can be annoying sometimes’. Rhaenyra had thrown a pillow at her in response and stomped her little foot, lips pouting as she stared up at him. 
That night he had talked with you, and you agreed to stop drinking moon tea. Both of you were scared, but the pressure for an heir was ever present, and enough time had passed. The wound was still there, just like the scar on your stomach, but it had faded with time. Both of you hardly thought about Lucerys II anymore. 
Aelar squirms in his arms, tiny feet slowly kicking in the air, he’s all squishy and red like newborns are, but Aegon thinks he’s perfect. You lean your head against his shoulder, arms wrapped around Saera who gently tugs at your hair and stares at your son. This, him, he’s perfect. Suddenly Aegon forgets about the stress, the pressure, the desire to throw his crown into a crowd and walk away. 
Perhaps now life will be a little easier, perhaps the work of a king will be worth it when he thinks of how one day Aelar will inherit it. 
“I love him,” he whispers. By now, all four of the kids have run off with guards trailing after them, most likely to pick out an egg together. His gaze shifts to yours, eyes meeting in a loving stare. “Just like I love you.” 
“I lo-” Saera shrieks, hands roughly grabbing your cheeks as she surges forward. The both of you laugh at her silly antics.
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The morning of his wedding, Otto had tried to discuss matters regarding the realm, he had all but tried to shoo him away. Unfortunately, his grandfather is a stubborn man. “There is also the matter of your… Assassins.” 
Aegon stills, telling all the servants shuffling about his chambers to leave as he finally faces his grandfather. Of course, nothing gets past this man. “Can I not have one happy day? One without business or whatever dreadful thing you're about to tell me.” 
“I have not told your mother about the horde of mercenaries you have hired to kill your brother, but I do want to remind you to restrain yourself. Even if another man kills him, since you were the one that paid for it, you would still be a Kin slayer.” 
Aegon shrugs, hands running through his cropped hair as he eyes the decanter left on his dresser. “I do not care, besides the last update I received is them being run out of Pentos. None of them have found where the roaches are now hiding.” 
Just one glass, he thinks while pouring himself a chalice full. You would need this too if you were stuck talking to Otto. “Seems the lords there were fond of Daemon Targaryen, they have not taken lightly to the news of his stepdaughter being harmed. Dorne also kicked them out for killing a child, I believe they didn’t fare well in Essos either.” Aegon takes a swig, leaning against the dresser as he glares at his grandfather, “either my mercenaries kill them or starvation will finally hit. They must have run out of money by now.” 
“Saera claimed Vhagar,” you say one evening, you're pregnant with your fifth child by now. Aegon stills, hands full of important documents that he’s drowning in. The words circle through his mind, trying to think of what to say as realization sets in. “The dragon keepers were surprised, seeing as she is only four and….” 
You're wringing your hands out, feet propped up by a stool, while you sit in your armchair. He wonders if you’ve told his mother, does she know? Should he go check on her? She’s been so focused on Helaena’s recovery, a new-found confidence in her daughter surging within her ever since Helaena has finally started leaving her room. Should he be the one to ruin that happiness for her? He’s ruined everything else, so it wouldn’t be anything new. 
“Oh,” is all he says, his throat is suddenly so dry. Aegon thinks to pour himself another glass of wine but for some reason he can’t unclench his hands, the papers within them crinkle, some rip. The stress did not leave upon Aelar’s birth, the weight on his shoulders has only grown. Now he wants to leave a perfect kingdom for him, and no matter what it seems he can’t. 
You slowly pull yourself from your chair, letting out a low groan as you waddle over to him. You’ve complained recently of your feet aching, it’s late into your pregnancy and any day you may go into labor. He wonders if it’ll be another boy like Rhaegar or if they’ll have another girl. He doesn’t know which he wants more. 
You stand in front of his desk, gentle hands on top of his as you slowly peel his fingers back. He gulps, staring at your hands, once stained red with your own blood. There are scars on both of them, Rhaenyra asked you about them recently.
Aegon had stilled at the dinner table, a dark look coming over his face as he recalls that horrid night. But you, ever the smart woman that he loves, just smiled and said, “sometimes a mother must make sacrifices.” 
It had been vague enough to confuse her and keep her from pressing for more information. Jaehaera though had stopped eating as well, eyes on your hands as she too recalled that night. Her name day has never been the same, every year she thinks of you in that puddle. 
“It was most likely peaceful” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts. Aegon knows you still despise him and while he too hates his brother for what he did At this moment he realizes what this means. His brother is dead. The boy he used to tease as a child, the one who covered for him when he would run off to Flea Bottom. The little kid he used to steal food from. He’s dead, and Aegon doesn’t even know how. Some time passes before you kiss his forehead and head to bed. Aegon finds himself slowly standing up, deciding to join you when his hand slips, papers sprawling across the floor.
He lets out an annoyed huff before bending down to pick them up, his hand sifts through the pile, bunching them in one hand while the other grabs the rest. His hands grasp onto something unfamiliar, brows furrowing when he finds a letter amongst the stack. 
Aegon shoves the unimportant (but actually very important) papers onto the desk before ripping open the letter, the letter is short, it’s signed ‘Nightshade’. His heart drops. 
“It’s done, proof is enclosed. 
~ Nightshade” 
Aegon digs inside the envelope, producing two strands of silver hair and one black. 
“You would still be a Kin slayer.” 
Aegon cannot bear to speak after that, he can’t even respond when you sleepily say you love him. The stunned man only nods in response. 
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The cake served was a honey cake, he thinks, no he knows because that is your favorite cake. It was honey and your hair was pinned back, silver dragon pins found throughout your hair. You looked stunning that day. 
Everyone has caught on, the king is different, he’s quick to temper, erratic, stressed. He’s constantly seeking you out, so he can calm down, hands shaking and crown askew. Aemma lays in her cradle as you hold him. Aegon won’t say why, he can’t seem to fathom telling you what he’s done. 
“It’s too much” he sobs one day, hands clenching your dress as you hug him. “It’s too heavy!” 
You frown, pulling away and cupping his red cheeks, you look concerned, scared. Aegon can’t blame you, he’d be scared if this was you. “My love, talk to me, please. What is too heavy?” 
He chokes on his sobs, head resting on your chest. You take off his crown, throw it onto the bed and rub his back. “This feeling, I did it! I did it and I can’t take it back!” 
“You must tell me what this feeling is, so I can help you, maybe it won’t feel so heavy if you tell me.” 
Aegon pulls you closer until your body is flush against his, “I forgot she was still employed by me, everything was going so good, and she hadn’t found him in years s-so-” he sniffles, body shaking, “I forgot.” 
You nod along, one hand playing with his hair in a way that you know soothes him. “My last assassin killed Aemond, she killed his whole family.” 
He whispers the words, scared somehow the walls will hear and scream it to the whole realm. ‘Aegon killed his brother!’ They would screech, ‘he’s a kinslayer!’ 
Your ministrations stop, body suddenly so still as you take in his words. He’s scared you’ll scold him, reject him, show him the disgust he knows he feels for himself. Instead, you pull his face away from your chest, despite his protests, and look into his eyes. He doesn’t find any of those things, only sorrow and concern. 
“You forgot?” 
He nods. 
“Then you did not mean it, and therefore it was not you.” 
It's shitty reasoning, but he’ll take whatever you give him. He launches himself back into your arms. By now, the front of your dress is soaked, but neither of you comment on it. 
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats like a mantra. 
“And I, you” you murmur, kissing the top of his head. 
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He can’t remember what kind of flowers were draped throughout the Sept, nor can he seem to remember the necklace you wore, despite it being a gift from him. Aegon can’t remember if you sat on his left or right, and he knows he used to remember that. 
“I want to talk to you,” you start. Aegon is laying in bed, boots kicked off and only in his small clothes. Lately there have been bags under his eyes, he’s lost weight and despite your talk a few weeks ago he still seems on edge. You’ve sat in on many of the small council meetings and noticed how detached Aegon has become. Many of the members scoff when they must repeat themselves. You're scared. 
Aegon pats the spot beside him, you crawl onto it but stay on your knees, a hand resting on his thigh as you gaze at him with concern. “What of?”
Even his tone sounds tired. Your hands reach up to cup his cheeks, “I have an idea, but you must hear it out before you make any comments.” 
“If this is about that new thing you heard the ladies gossip about, I will not let it anywhere near my as-” 
You chuckle, shaking your head. “I want you to abdicate.” 
It’s silent, he looks confused, the only sound in the room is the crackling fire. You had moved Aemma to the nursery when you noticed how tired he seemed, best let him get as much rest as possible. “The stress is destroying you and-” you scoot forward, forehead pressing against his, “I can’t keep watching as you fall apart. I just want to see you happy again.” 
“Aelar is too young,” Aegon concludes, brows still furrowed. 
You chew on your lip before pulling away from him, hands dropping into your lap. You wring them out as you look down at them, the words that leave you shock him. “I know, but you have me, I could do it for you until Aelar is old enough.” 
“That’s unheard of,” he leans against the pillows, watching you nervously fiddle with your hands. You sigh, shoulders slumping as you look up at him through your lashes. 
“Yes, but not impossible. If I take over, you could relax, be with the kids more, take a deep breath. At this rate, if you keep going you’ll die from the stress alone.” You lean forward, leaning against your hands that are now flat against the bed. “I do not wish to lose you, and the kids are worried about you.” 
He gulps, even after so long such words still seem foreign to him. Every time his children tackle him or excitedly shriek at his presence he looks around for what is so interesting, it’s always him though. He doesn’t know how, but they love him, so do you, so do you his nephews. Even Alicent is gentle with him now. He’s taking on so much to keep you from it and yet you're sitting here asking for the stress, the burden, to help him. 
The small council would not like that, nor would Otto, and probably not his mom. The kingdom might be confused by it, but they do love you. Having you on the throne does not change the succession either, it would still fall to Aelar, so there would be nothing to worry about in that regard. 
“Let me be queen, so you may be the father you wish to be,” you say it so sincerely, so earnestly. How can Aegon say no to that? He hardly ever says no to you, he can’t start now. 
“You love me?” He asks, it’s the first time he’s had to ask in years, but this decision involves all the trust in the world. He needs reassurance. 
You nod, a smile on your beautiful lips as you sit back down, “I do, so much.”
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You try not to remember your first wedding, the day was somber and against your will. None of it had been planned by you, and you had to keep from crying at the altar. But your wedding to Aegon? He made sure you helped plan it and when the day arrived everything fell together so perfectly. For a moment you forgot all your pain, all your heartache. That wedding you remember vividly, even as the years pass by. 
The dress they fit you in has valyrian steel shoulder pads and a belt. It’s all black with red satin cuffs at your wrists. The style of it reminds you of the dress you wore the day you almost died, except this one has silver dragons embroidered on the skirt. Your hair is twisted into intricate and regal braids and a silver ruby necklace is draped across your neck with matching earrings. 
The coronation will be in the throne room, and after you will give a speech to the small folk in front of the Red Keep. Many were shocked by the news that Aegon was stepping down, none more surprised than your good mother. Her lips had been pursed while she picked at her fingernails until they bled. 
You later found that she felt all her hard work and sacrifice over the years had been for not. Despite rejecting Aegon’s pleas as a child and making him marry Helaena, here you stood happily married to her eldest son. Despite starting a war to put him on the throne, here you stood, about to be crowned queen of the seven kingdoms. 
You think against telling her that none of this would have happened if she had just let the two of you marry, it would only upset her further. Upon hearing about Vhagar she had been beside herself. Helaena had stood awkwardly, not quite sure what to do, as she herself was not fully present yet. Her mind was still elsewhere most days. 
“Are you ready?” Aegon asks, he had requested to be the one to give you the crown and walk you to the throne. It felt right to have him be the one to hand it over to you, to tell the world he approves of this decision, that he sees you as the true ruler of the seven kingdoms. You take his hand, letting out a shaky sigh before nodding. 
“Yes.” 
You catch one last glimpse of yourself in the mirror before walking away. The sight shocks you, the woman staring back looks eerily similar to your mother. You wonder what she would make of the life you’ve lived since she passed. You still think of her often, thoughts consumed on if she’d be disappointed or not. 
The coronation is a blur. Aegon walks you to the iron throne after a guard announces your arrival. Everyone turns and watches you walk up the steps. You do not sit immediately, Aegon says his speech which you hardly hear, the ringing in your ears taking precedence over his words. In the crowd you see your children, up at the front and grinning from ear to ear. 
Jaehaera holds Aemma and Rhaenyra holds Rhaegar. Saera and Aelar are standing in front of them, fidgeting as their little bodies try their best to stay still. Your brothers stand behind your girls, shoulders back and faces proud. Neither remember what your mother looks like, you wonder if they see her in you as Alicent does. Part of you hopes they do. 
Aegon grabs the crown from the velvet cushion it was sat upon. He had a new one made for you, it’s the valyrian circlet he had made for your wedding, except he has added thorns to it, the way they are shaped almost looks like a dragons nest with rubies embedded to look like the eggs. They seem sharp enough to harm, maim even, as the thorns curl around one another. 
You wonder what went through his brain when coming up with the concept, he gently places it upon your braided hair and whispers, so only you hear, “for my mighty dragon.” 
Gods, you want to cry. 
“All hail the queen!” He shouts, turning to the crowd in front of him. They chant along with him as you finally ascend to the throne, your body fits perfectly against the seat as you stare out at the people, no, subjects in front of you. 
And while your new subjects stare up at you with unadulterated rage and shock, a shiver of happiness worms its way into your heart. This might not have been the way your mother wished for the war to truly end. She would still disapprove of your marriage to Aegon, but you know that at this moment as you sit on the iron throne, the crown of y/n the mighty laid upon your dark curls, that she would finally be proud of you. 
And in the end, that’s all you ever wanted.
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goldenpinof · 25 days
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i rewatched the q&a and i want to share something that made me scream i little bit
"As you all know from the ticket buying experiences, venues and ticket promoters are the agents of chaos, and mostly inept. You never know what you're going to get, but as any of us that have ever tried to go to a gig anywhere in the world would know, even though answering questions is all these people should be doing trying to help customers. For some reason, it's very confusing for all of them."
the boy is Speaking, allegedly about AXS, AEG and Ally Pally included
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augustlaven · 6 months
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An old sketch with an aeg version of my au. Edward and Henry went to live in a happy train marriage, leaving Gordon with a sore back and a midlife crisis.
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mapleashes · 8 months
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Goofy lil’ guy 🚂💙
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vizreef · 2 years
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AEG // DAZ ‘Denk an Zeit!’ // Studio Traffic Light - Timer for Work Optimization // Germany 1975
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kumatajdg · 7 months
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Commission of Theo in the All Engines Go style!
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aegann · 9 months
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Made a pagedoll for my Art Fight profile!
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Some old L5R models that I finally painted. I probably got these 20 or so years ago. They were made by either Reaper or AEG. I was inspired to paint them after reading the 5e Adventures in Rokugan book by Edge Studio.
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asterarchers · 1 year
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“you shouldn’t be here” “neither should you” these are two master assassins who have killed god knows how many people who have almost died god knows how many times but despite it all they’re still going to try to protect each other from what they view as evil and i think that’s a very fierce type of love. to know each other to the bone & carry their ledger along with yours and still try to keep them safe & untainted even though you know they’ve already been ruined by the world
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ttte-yurishica · 2 months
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Wtf i spent 10 minutes thinking how would i fix all engines go
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rat-on-string · 7 months
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New oc ! Made her for BMB2 but I do not have the time for another OCT rn. lore under cut
Aeg, the bringer of maddening truth- she/her - an oracle plagued by visions of the future & the truth. - cursed with madness. not fully sane. - morally grey, but not malicious.  - wants to spread the truth and considers the idea of "truth" to be a beautiful thing. like an art. - has a twisted view of the world. thinks that lying under any circumstance is a sin. - slinks around. movements are snake-like. - doesnt do much physical fighting, but is good at spellcasting.  - "i can fix her" you... can try? good luck
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aegoniisource · 1 year
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goldenpinof · 2 months
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Did Dan piss those promoters off or something? Why do things always go wrong? At this point it has to be intentional satogatage bc there's no way they're this incompetent and still have jobs /hj
oh, sweet summer child, people can be incompetent and still have their jobs. it all depends on top managers' and CEO's priorities and who these incompetent people work with. (irl merch included. not sending orders and then not replying to emails for weeks is incompetence. but i don't think Martyn or dnp care. and i can't do anything because i'm outside the UK. lucky them.)
rant about Dan's promoters incoming...
i'd honestly try to sue AEG if i were Dan. or fine them, some contracts provide for fines. it's IMPOSSIBLE to work like that. if these 2 shows end up with dozens of empty seats because of this stupid system AXS has on their website, it WILL damage Dan's business. not financially because the seats are paid for, but on tape isn't gonna look horrendous, and will need extra editing (-> extra time -> extra expenses, probably, allegedly). this situation is worse than what we had during the whole 2022/2023 tour. i'm honestly impressed with how they managed to make the actual tour look "not that bad" compared to today. we thought Oxford/Cambridge situation was bad? Iceland? Auckland? Amsterdam? added and cancelled shows? oh no, no, no. fucking up ticket sales for the most important shows – peak AEG's clownery. making the system so scammy that it drops the back rows 1st and makes people think that everything else is sold out – the peakest of peaks. and idk what can be a cherry on top here. people have spare tickets on their hands right now, not because they wanted to resell them, but because they bought the back rows and then 3 hours later the front rows were magically on sale and people, understandably, bought them as well. as i'm typing this the tickets for both shows are still available (STALLS, rows I and L for Saturday and Sunday respectively). and with how it goes now, there will be tickets available on the venue's website on Wednesday.
idk what should be done to fix it. and how long Dan's emails to AEG should be. this is not how things should work after the whole tour aka experience and fuck ups. you're half-joking, anon, hi <3 but idk what's there to joke about. only screaming, crying, throwing up. and not in a good way. it does look like sabotage, you're right. it looks like no one fucking cares about simple things. like they didn't need to create this complex system to sell tickets, and yet they did.
@danielhowell i know you're not here, but i ain't writing essays on twitter.
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augustlaven · 3 months
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We don't like aeg, but his face on this toy is so cute, why😭
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