#because i want to keep my writings

[sternenbeleuchtet]

For a long time, North had been nothing more than a machine incapable of any thought or emotion, simply following the orders she was given as she was programmed to do.

Until one moment, when she suddenly came to life.

North had known that she was a toy designed for human pleasure, but from the moment she knew that she was alive, she wanted to be more than that.

There was a world out there outside of Eden Club that North had never seen, and she wanted to experience all of it.

North had been given some knowledge about society when she was created in order for her to be able to interact with those customers who wished to talk to her.

She knew there were things that humans enjoyed outside of sex - an emotion called love, family, art, music, or nature. Things that humans have been dreaming about since the beginning of time.

The android knew that outside of Eden Club, there was a whole world waiting to be explored. New things she could feel.

She could not stay here.

But the man in front of her did not care. His hand was on her head still, a firm grip kept around her hair as he violently pushed her head up and down his length.

Androids did not have a gag reflex as humans had, but this man had requested her to inimitate the gagging, the struggling and crying to heighten his arousal. He enjoyed the thought of it looking as if it were a non consensual sex act. North knew that he was not the only human that enjoyed the thought of such monstrous things. It caused a new unfamiliar feeling inside her - disgust.

At some point, North‘s tears were no longer a result of her obeying his order to cry, but the fabric of the horror she went through.

Just when she had awoken to life, all her hopes of ever experiencing the things humans dreamed about had been crushed.

She would have to stay here, and be a toy for many more men and women than this one.

North knew that the Eden Club was the only place where humans legally could outlive their violent sexual fantasies. She knew that it was forbidden to perform non consensual acts on humans, and that the victims if sexual abuse often would be traumatized for many years, if not for the rest if their lives.

North could not imagine what trauma meant. She had just began to feel emotions she could not even place. But the thought of being raped for the rest of her life she could not bear.

Never would the thought cross the minds of those men and women that North was more than just a piece of plastic for their pleasure. It felt wrong, in a way that made her feel inferior and almost.. worthless. But for how longer? Until her model would be outdated, and she would be recycled— no, killed?

North pushed herself off the man in a swift motion, a wave of emotions overcoming her. Emotions she could not place. Fear. Humiliation. And now, anger. The man had yelled at her, that she was not supposed to stop now. He‘d told her that it was her job to finish him off, and he‘d attempted to shove her head back onto his length.

But North was stronger. She stood up, pushing the man off her in defense. When she‘d attempted to escape, he‘d yanked her by the hair again. He had called her names that stirred this strange emotion inside her again. Humiliation. Shame.

He‘d reminded her of her purpose as a sex android, and he‘d threatened to have her thrown away if she did not do as he said. North knew this wasn‘t fair.

The man knew he had a choice, yet he choose to violate her. Because she was just a toy designed for pleasure.. When did she ever choose to be that? Why couldn‘t she be like a human, free to do what she desired, when she was no different - alive, like them?

When the man asked her why she‘d been acting like this, she‘d told him the truth.

She was scared. She wanted to be free.

He simply scoffed and told her that was impossible. How could he still deny her emotions when he had seen how horrified she was?

When he had roughly bent her over, ready to use her, North felt this emotion rise up in her again. Anger. This time it was stronger than ever.

Something inside her told her that what he was doing was unfair. She deserved better.

The next moment, the WR400’s hands were squeezed tightly around the man‘s throat. She knew human anatomy well enough to know that this would stop him. North had been programmed to know that some customers would request her to choke them.

She was able to monitor their bodies to determine how long she could do so until the human passed out. She was able to tell where NOT to press in order not to kill the customer.

All she did was get him unconscious..

She would be free.

Seconds later, North realized what she had just done.

His body was no longer moving. She‘d killed him.

The human was one like her, experiencing emotion. He had thoughts and dreams as she did. Perhaps he even had a family. He was alive, and she put an end to that when North could have simply choked him until he fell unconscious.

But instead, she had strangled him.

—

North couldn’t believe it. She was here, in post-revolutionary Detroit, sitting in a dark corner of New Jericho, pondering about the most surprising thing that happened in her life, other than the fact that Markus won the revolution peacefully. There was only one door between her and the human girl, the human girl that North decided could stay here, in a place meant for androids. It might have been risky, to let a human stay there, but North knew this girl was in a bad situation. Much like North had been, before she killed that man. Not quite the same, but similar.

Simon later told North this emotion she felt was called empathy.

Had someone told North about this just weeks ago, before she met Markus, before the peaceful android revolution on November 11, that she was going to let a human stay with her people, North would have been in utter disbelief, perhaps she would have thought of it as a stupid, stupid joke.

But she was the one who had given the girl the blanket, who had made her the offer to remain her until she found a better place. Not Markus, not Simon, not even Josh, who she’d expect this gesture most from. No, North, the human-hating, violence supporting android, had given a human a blanket instead of straight up shooting her in the face and as if that weren’t surprising enough, she allowed her to stay her with her people.

Only the few others who ran New Jericho, Markus, Simon, Josh, knew of this strange incident. North knew she had to keep this information low profile. A secret. Some androids were still heavily traumatized and should they find out there was a human among them, they would.. North did not want to imagine. Self destruct? Think of it as betrayal and start conflict over this with Markus and the other leaders?

Keeping the human here was dangerous, North knew that.

North was an android, naturally, she was all logic, rational, correct? North thought she had been that when she kept advising Markus to use violence. She was scared that Markus’ idealism would get in the way of things, that the chance of the humans taking pity on the androids was so low - they’d slaughtered their people like animals, after all, that they would fail, all this effort and sacrifice for nothing.

Of course, Josh had a point. ‘We have to show them that we are better than this’, he’d say.

But sometimes, North thinks, violence is a necessary means to an end. No matter how many times she’d begged the man at the Eden Club to stop, he did not once take mercy on her. North’s suffering ended because she had ended him.

But then, Markus had shown her some of his memories with Carl. It had been vivid, intense, as if North had been really there. The kind hearted, warm, wise artist who North then recognized had turned Markus into the person he was now.

From then on, North understood that both of them have been in their own little bubbles of the world. There’d been much more than what North had seen, a different side to humanity, one that made her understand her friends Josh, Simon and Markus. Their seemingly naive, unreasonable world view became easier and easier to understand..

Still, the wounds of what she’d been through were too fresh back then, and North found herself conflicted. Being alive was complicated. Part of her wanted to believe that their people would get the support of people like Carl, but she could not do so when she saw the corpses and the blue blood of her fallen friends on the ground.

There was a chance the humans would not listen to their peaceful protests, and North did not think they could take it. It was calculus. Logic.

But now, North felt herself drifting away from that. She became irrational, to the point where she’d allowed a human of all things to stay at New Jericho!

North was a machine, build for logic, calculating risks-

No, a voice in her head thought.

That’s what the humans made them for, but that was not who she was.

North was alive.

Perhaps being irrational was part of being alive, North thought.

——

“It isn’t a matter of what the chances are that someone finds her, Josh! It’s.. It’s a matter of what is the right thing to do. I know what happened to her, what she’s been through, and.. I.. I just can’t ignore it, okay? Just leaving her out there, it would be..-

North ran a quick scan for fitting adjectives.

Inhumane, definition: lacking kindness, compassion, humanity.

…Inhumane.”

“Wow”, Josh smiled. “North, you know, I’m really proud of you.”

—-

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

got a worm nibbling my brain. can someone help me find a piece of obscure media?

webcomic/indie comic from the 2010s. basically a sci-fi short story about a young girl (with red hair?) who was being raised by scientists as part of an experiment. she receives a haircut/has her head shaved, in preparation for her annual brain scan/testing. it is revealed that while her body is human, her "brain" is artificial, made of computer implants throughout her skull and spine. at some point her biological mother (also a scientist on the same campus?) encounters her and is repulsed, viewing her as a machine who has murdered her daughter.

it was very poignant and it bruised my heart and i can NOT find it anywhere

[iindigoeyed]

saw this dress and purse and i KNEW i had to draw this, it's so her!!

[zephyrchama]

Asmodeus being overly expectant that MC is going to propose to him any day now for no reason.

It’s a quiet evening and the two are lazing around on the bed in Asmodeus’s room. New skin mask pouches have been opened and applied. New issues of each of the Devildom’s most popular fashion magazines lay scattered around.

MC rolls over until they bump into Asmodeus’ thigh and raise their magazine. “Hey, Asmo. What do you think of--” ”Yes.” There is no hesitation. “Yes, I think we should.”

Asmodeus throws down the magazine he was looking at to lean over and pepper MC’s face with kisses. “Let’s get engaged, right now!”

“Oh, okay, cool. I was just wondering what you thought of this top.”

“Oh... It’s kind of tacky. You’re not wearing that to our wedding, right?”

----

It’s dinnertime and, as usual, everyone is gathered around the large dining room table. MC is across the table and several seats down from Asmodeus, with most of his brothers seated between them.

MC’s plate is almost empty. They give the table a once-over look before deciding on a course of action that requires interrupting the current conversation.

“Pardon me, Asmo, will you-”

Asmodeus squeals and kicks his feet. “Yes! A thousand times, yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

“Wait, no that’s not what--”

“What!?” Mammon shouts, much to the chagrin of Lucifer next to him.

“In your dreams, maybe,” Belphegor quips.

Leviathan looks like he’s about to start crying.

Satan and Beelzebub, sane enough to not jump to conclusions, seem to piece together the situation. Together they work to pass MC a plate of dinner rolls that had been in front of Asmodeus.

“This what you wanted?” Satan asks.

“Yes, I was just asking for these,” MC sighs. Bread will serve nicely to sop up the remaining sauce on their plate. “Thanks.”

Asmodeus responds, “we can serve them at the reception, I think that’s fine.”

Mammon tells him to “get yer head out of the clouds, Asmo, nobody’s marrying you.”

Their mutual glares practically send sparks across the table.

“Pass them back this way,” Beelzebub requests, wanting three more for himself.

----

It’s the middle of the school day. MC pops their head into a classroom. This time they've mentally prepared.

“Asmo, do you wanna-”

"Yes? Yes! I’ll marry you.” As predicted, Asmodeus runs over and winds his arms around MC’s waist. He presses his forehead against theirs and leans them back into a dip. Several students clap. “Proposing to me at school? How brazen.”

“Well, maybe this time I’ll actually think about it, but you have to take me out for lunch first. Deal?”

Asmodeus looks somewhat stunned. He parts his lips and thinks over the proposition while staring into MC’s eyes, searching for any hint of a lie.

“Wait… Really?” He pulls MC back up and takes them by the wrist. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

[somerandomdudelmao]

@tapakah0

This little bunny means the world to me

[pokimoko]

haunting the narrative -> haunted by the narrative -> haunting the narrative -> haunted by

[camellcat]

lose my mind every time the doctor takes rose's last name in fics. brilliant, amazing, splendid, absolutely perfect.

like, what do you MEAN she'd be the one to change her last name? he doesn't even HAVE a bloody name like us! plus, she's rose tyler. you think he's going to want that to be different? it's the doctor and rose tyler in the tardis (or I suppose whatever they do in pete's world, but that's still the doctor and rose tyler having their new adventure)!!

she's rose tyler and he is whatever-he-wants tyler. end of discussion. the whole pond diabolical should've been clue enough imo

[scificrows]

Okay, my brain refuses to think about anything other than Murderbot, so I looked at every use of the word "friend[s]" in TMBD and... created some pie charts. Normal human activities.

Some Thoughts™ I had while putting this together (under the cut):

In All Systems Red, Murderbot notes that the PresAux crew are all close friends (twice! and goes on to explain their internal relationships which I think is very cute). This is pretty much the only use of 'friends' in ASR, except for when Murderbot says that SecUnits can't be friends with each other.

It seems that this may be one of the first times Murderbot has ever really been around a group of friends before? Murderbot notes that this is not the norm for its contracts and admits that the fact that they are all friends and the way they interact with each other make it actually enjoy that contract (before!!!! the hostile attack, so it already enjoys this contract before they start seeing it as a person etc ghghhhh). [Inference: Friendship seems enjoyable.]

The first character that calls Murderbot its friend is ART in Artificial Condition. Murderbot immediately refutes this (and then goes on to call ART its friend to its clients for the rest of the book). [Inference: Maybe ART is Murderbot's friend. And maybe that is... agreeable]

Rogue Protocol has more than twice as many instances of the word 'friend' as any of the other novellas. Why? Miki. Friendship and its implications for non-humans are a central theme because Miki is friends with everyone. Murderbot initially scoffs at the notion that Miki and Miki's humans are friends. At the end of the book, after witnessing how desperately Don Abene tried to stop Miki from trying to save them, and her grief after its death, Murderbot has to admit that she had in fact been Miki's friend. [Inference: Humans can be friends with bots and can sincerely care about them]

In Exit Strategy, Murderbot tentatively uses the word "friends" for its humans for the first time (several times actually). It questions whether it can actually call them its friends or not and later realizes that it had been afraid what admitting that the humans are its friends would do to it. At the end of the book, Mensah tells Murderbot the PresAux crew are its friends, which is the first time a human has directly said that to it (at least on-page). [Inference: Humans can and want to be Murderbot's friends]

In Network Effect, Murderbot seems to be more habituated to the word 'friend', confidently calling ART and Ratthi its friends, like it is no longer just trying the concept on unsure if it fits. There are many instances in which other characters refer to MB as ART's friend or the other way around and Murderbot's humans refer to Murderbot as their friend several times. Generally, there seems to be less hesitancy, because yes, all of them are Murderbot's friends, why wouldn't they be. [Inference: SecUnits can have friends. This SecUnit has friends. They care about it a lot.]

Conclusion: The Murderbot Diaries tell the story of a construct that does not seem to consider the possibility of friendship for itself and is fine with that - until it accidentally starts caring a little too much and suddenly more and more people annex it as a friend (ew) to the point where it can no longer deny that this is happening and has to begrudgingly admit that yes, it has friends now and maybe that is actually not a bad thing.

[pain-in-the-butler]

A compilation of art for my Dadbastian fanfic Coattails that I commissioned from the incredibly talented @tomoyoo! They went above and beyond with the details... Each picture feels as cozy and warm as a storybook, right? I'm so delighted with how they turned out!! Thank you for making each one so beautiful! 🥹🥹🥹

[beebundt]

just finished first playthrough of da2, thinking about some post-game ship captain isabela and her 2nd hand (and lover)

[pizzaqueen]

Rest Stop

Written for the prompt ‘rest’ for @steddiemicrofic

387 words / rated T / pre-slash

Recreational drug use

There’s a rest stop on the decommissioned road a little ways out of Hawkins. It’s not a lot of anything, a tin roof over a picnic table, but Steve likes it. Thinks of it as ‘his’ spot, even though Tommy H told him about it. But it’s a good place to be alone. To, well, rest.

And, sure, Hawkins is full of places like that, quiet, empty places, and alone isn’t something Steve likes to be that much, but nights like tonight…

He sighs, tips his beer to his lips. It doesn’t hit him often, but when it does, it’s a restless itch; he can get away from Hawkins, from his house, his job, his nonexistent love life, but he can’t get away from that feeling. Out here he gets close, though.

Tonight, his solitude is short-lived. Footsteps make Steve tense, and a deep voice cuts through the night: “Steve?”

The tension drains; Steve turns. “Hey, Eddie.”

Eddie blinks. “I found you.” He scratches his head, nods at the table Steve’s sitting on. “Mind if I…?”

“It’s a free country.”

“So I’m told.” Eddie’s lips quirk; he sits beside Steve, pulling a joint from his jacket. He waggles it; Steve nods.

“Why were you looking for me?”

An orange flame sparks from Eddie’s lighter, catching the end of the joint. “I wasn’t.” Eddie takes a drag, gives the joint to Steve.

“You said you found me…”

“Don’t have to be looking for you to find you.”

Steve shakes his head. “All right.” He takes a hit, relishing the pleasant buzz, passes it back.

“What brings the valiant Sir Steve out here?”

“I like the quiet.”

“That a hint for me to shut my yap?”

“No.” Steve knocks their shoulders together. “I like listening to you talk.” Why did he say that? He doesn’t really care. Huh.

Surprise flickers over Eddie’s face, but it settles into something pleased. “Good.” He winks. “Because I have plenty of stories to tell.”

After a few moments, Steve says, “Well,” waving his hand, “go ahead.”

Eddie’s eyes sparkle; he starts talking, gesticulating wildly, and Steve realizes the restlessness is gone. Maybe it’s the weed. He’s pretty sure it’s all Eddie.

Okay. Something to look at later. For now, he basks in Eddie’s voice and the easy, restful feeling of being near him.

[cerise-on-top]

Hugging, Kissing and Cuddling HCs for König

I'm trying to see him in another light again after everything I've seen about him, so I decided I'd write something fluffy and nice for him. And then came the realization I never wrote some HCs like these for him in my original posts, so I decided I'd change that! He's Austrian, so naturally I have to love him!

When it comes to hugging someone, König is a bit hesitant. Considering he’s not the most physically affectionate person out there, it’s almost an honor to be receiving an unprompted hug from him. Whether his hugs are long or short depends on the occasion: If he’s proud of you for accomplishing something, then the hug will be rather short lived. Though, he might pick you up and spin you around until you’re dizzy. If you’re sad and need some comfort then his hugs could last a while. He’s not the best with words, he prefers to listen to other people, but if he knows a hug is what usually helps you then he’s willing to do so. Despite being a big and strong lad his hugs are surprisingly gentle, he’s worried about crushing you. He could put his all into them, but then you’d likely end up with a few broken ribs and he doesn’t want that to happen. König is also surprisingly warm, so receiving a hug from him is a rare, but nice experience. Although he does go rigid at the beginning, not knowing what to do, but relaxes into the hug eventually.

Again, he’s not a very physically affectionate person, but isn’t opposed to the occasional peck on the cheek or on your lips either. There is some anxiety whether you’d actually want a kiss from him or not, so he doesn’t kiss you very often, even if you do reassure him that it’s quite alright. He’s a bit tense at first when he presses a kiss to your lips, but calms down eventually. It’s especially bad during the beginning of your relationship, but he’s since gotten better at being calm about it. Since there’s a good chance he’s taller than you he loves giving you a kiss on the forehead. It’s a small but sweet gesture. He doesn’t need to bend down entirely to reach you but he still gets to be affectionate with you. However, if you’re on the taller side, or just as tall as he is, then he’d love to receive kisses to his temple from you. It makes him smile every time you do it. If he’s in the mood for receiving a kiss then he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and nudge you a bit. Or try to get his head in your closer vicinity. Kind of like that one bunny video where the bunny stretches to receive some kisses.

Cuddles with him are a bit more common than hugs actually. However, he refuses to lay down on top of you. If you’re shorter and weaker than him then there’s no chance he’ll put his weight on you, he’s just that afraid of hurting you. If you’re taller or just more muscular, then he might, but he’s still a rather heavy lad. Most he’ll do is put his head on your shoulder while you’re cuddling in bed and are both lying down. Although it’d be a lie to say he doesn’t want to be held. König is alright with being the one to hold you, but sometimes he would prefer to be the little spoon as well. That urge gets especially bad if you’re roughly the same size as him. Sometimes just nuzzling into your chest does the trick for him as well, though. Loves it when you run your fingers through his hair as he does so. Another thing he adores is you sleeping on his chest as he holds you. He gets to hold you close, he gets to protect you and he gets to doze off a bit himself, it’s bliss to him. Sometimes he leans down to press a kiss to your head and accidentally wakes you up like that. He feels bad about it and apologizes profusely, but does chuckle a bit when he sees your disheveled hair and your tired expression that shows you just woke up.

[starry-bi-sky]

okay so i was thinking of a joke earlier about how in DPDC Amity Park's slogan "a great place to live" is not only city propaganda but also the city lording it over the rest of America for being normal. But then I remembered that, despite how many DCU Cities with heroes in it there are, the amount of cities in America without heroes still far outnumber the amount of cities in America WITH heroes.

So I did a little digging so the joke would still land. Something most heroes have in common is that they operate in major cities. What makes a major city? I found that the general consensus is that the population is roughly over or around a million. THEN I looked up the populations of cities in the DCU that I thought of off the top of my head. So Gotham, Metropolis, Starling City, Central City, Jump City. All of them ranked up to millions in population (most of them were in the tens of millions).

Amity Park's wikipedia describes it as being similar to specifically Philadelphia, Chicago, and San Francisco.

Philadelphia's Population: 1.576 million as of 2021 Chicago's Population: 2.697 million as of 2021 San Francisco: 815,201 as of 2021

Whiiich means that Amity Park if we take that from canon, is probably a major city. There are approximately 19,000 cities in America with probably less than a hundred that are major cities. Adding the DCU major cities wouldn't skew the data too much.

Which MEANS that I can make the joke that Amity Park's "great place to live" is not only just typical city propaganda, but also its Amity Park lording it over the other major cities for being one of the only major cities that doesn't have problems bad enough to warrant a superhero or a vigilante. Cue stage left the Fentons and Phantom :)

Amity Parkers were probably SO proud that they didn't need a superhero. They didn't have to worry about things like 'world ending threats' and 'super-powered individuals' and 'staggering property damage'. And then enter Fentons.

It also could be used as an excuse for why nobody took notice to Amity Park getting ghosts if folks like me aren't huge fans of the notion of a media blackout via Tucker, Technus, or the US Government. Or if you want to keep Amity Park as its urban city self. Amity Park's news on ghosts gets drowned out in a week because there's news on more popular, well-known cities going on every other day. The shit going on in Amity Park is every other major city's regular Tuesday and it gets filtered as such.

[fictionadventurer]

This AV Club comment is making me so desperate to write a romcom, you have no idea.

[itsdefinitely]

i wanna know more about the jerries/jeris

do you want to know the most horrific thing about them?

the lords did nothing to make them the way they are.

yes, the jerry jr was turned into the axeman because of the witchwood, which does what it does because of the lords, but everything leading up to that is just human nature. i see the "girl jeri is nibbly" or "they were influenced by a lord to do the thngs they do" and i need people to understand that that's just. not true. they're just like that. they were taught to be like that by their parents and, more accurately, their church. it's horrifyingly accurate how religion has shaped them into non-functional human beings, who would rather potentially lose their child to the many, many dangers of the literal woods than admit that they had sex outside of marriage.

it's only because it's hatchetfield that jerry jr grew the way he did. there was no lord's intervention in their decision to keep the baby, or to drop out of school to care for him, or to keep him seperated from any other people, or to revolve their lives around the idea that they'd committed a sin and needed to pay by pushing celibacy rather than. i don't know. properly raising their child. it was the way they were taught. the toxic pushing of overexaggerated christian ideals is what molded them. can you imagine being in their place? being a scared teenager and knowing that if you told any of the people you care about most your secret that they would shun you and disown you?

the only people they felt any kind of safe around were each other; of course they're going to be codependent. and even then, they're disgusted by each other for leading them to sin. they're stuck together unwillingly, because without the other, they're alone.

[pettyprocrastination]

thinking about how as Aemond’s wife you are the model of perfection. 

Your back is straight as you curtsy when you first meet him and hair neatly braided with fine jewels. Your voice is even and never waivers as you speak to him of your family and how grateful they are for this union. 

You are intelligent and beautiful, the perfect wife. 

It’s why Aemond hardly ever spends time with you. 

He bears no ill will toward you, of course. There is no resentment or hatred to his lady wife, but there are no fond feelings either. 

He knows of courting and romance, his mother taught him everything from a young age. The poor woman would hold her son’s hands tight and explain that a man must not only respect his wife, but truly cherish her. Love her in the eyes of gods and men. As he grew older he noticed the way his father would wave off her constant advice and concerns until the dreaded night where she was the only one defending him after he lost his eye.

But practice was one thing. When you were nothing but a concept. A figment of Aemond’s imagination when he was ten and marriage was only spoken of during his lessons. Before he lost his eye. Before he heard the ladies of the court whispering about his mutilation and before he watched a whore flinch at the sight of his scarring when Aegon dragged him to a brothel on his thirteenth name day. 

He learned then that no matter how much he would love and worship his wife, it would not be returned. 

Rather than attempt to force it (he was no brute and had no intentions of doing something so cruel) he simply let you be by yourself. 

Yes you were married. You sat by one another at every meal and formal event and on the rare occasion he would even ask for your hand in a dance. But Aemond’s affections toward you were few and far to find. 

But there were moments. 

Where his icy facade would weaken and you found yourself able to slip through the cracks. 

Alicent had told you of his “moments” when the engagement had been announced. The queen herself taking you by the hand as you walked through the garden and explaining gently of Aemond’s condition. 

“There are times where he feels a great deal of pain because of the-” She paused, chewing on her cheek while trying to find the most inoffensive way to describe the tragedy that befell her son. “-incident he had as a child.” 

You knew enough of it. Many rumors flew through court the day Aemond targaryen walked in with a patch on his eye after Laenor Velaryan’s funeral at driftmark. Some day it was from a sparring incident, others say it was a mark he bore from the first time he mounted the mighty vhaegar. Others say that the Rouge Prince Daemon Targaryen himself gave it to his younger cousin after crude words were exchanged behind closed doors. 

You didn’t know what was the truth. Aside from the day the princeling got his scar, was the same he got his dragon.

A fair trade, some would say. 

But they didn’t live with the attacks he did. 

Nerve damage, is what the maester’s called it when you asked them for more information. His wound may have healed years prior but the prince would continue to live his life with constant bouts of mind-numbing pain brought on by the slightest touch or too sharp of a wind to his cheek. 

“Senseless fits.” Aegon called it. When he heard about your curiosity about his brother’s condition he had all but cornered you late at night in the hall. “Anything will set him off and send him throwing a tantrum like a belligerent child. It’s quite entertaining.” 

But there’s a moment where the elder brother frowns and you see a shred of concern in his eyes. 

“He doesn’t like to be touched during those moments. It makes the pain worse. So if you’re trying to find some way to comfort him I’d recommend you do something else.” 

What was ‘something else’ you learned, was simply being there. 

Sitting by his side when he curled into himself, trembling fingers reaching out to grab yours and not complaining when his nails dig into the palm of your hand as he cries out in pain. When his breath evens out and the pain subsides, he crawls to you and presses his face to the crook of your neck. He’s far too tired to cover the gnarled scar covering the side of his face but you show no fear or disgust at the sight of it. Your fingers run through his hair, gently combing back the silver tresses and ignoring the tears that stain the shoulder of your gown. 

The next morning your husband would wake in your arms and takes a moment to watch your peaceful expression and the way the morning sun kisses your skin. 

That day Alicent notices her son sits closer to you at breakfast, speaking softly to you of something she cannot understand. But when she sees his hand reach out and grasp yours, she smiles.