#mayhaps i cried remembering all this

[sunfyresrider]

Love & Ruin 2

Synopsis: After being hidden away for most of your life your mother decided to stop being protective. However, there is one rule you cannot break, DO NOT associate with your uncle Aegon. Of course, it's the first thing you do, and you both quickly realize you will be each other's inevitable downfalls.

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x You (daughter of Rhaenyra) Warnings: cursing, smut, dubcon, more smut, manipulation, possible murder, obsessive tendencies, incest, SEVERE mental illness, helaemond is canon, failed plots, a disaster wedding, just targ things, too many warnings to count honestly Word count: 10k Note: I am a bad person. Im sorry it took me so long to finish but my life is a cluster fuck of bad and worse and it is a blessing I havent yeeted myself into hell. Pt three is alr in the works unlike this one. PS Helaena's and Aemond's plan did work. I just didn't directly mention what it was...yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy (if you're still interested) Tags: @lovelykhaleesiii @caffein8me @llearlert @introverbatim @ladybug0095 @yazzzmints @heavenly1927 @rinirinse @aelora-a (srry it didn't let me tag some of you.)

“Be quiet,” Aegon growled into the ear of the whore he chose to warm his bed this morning. The squelching sounds of his thrusts slamming into her cunt echoed throughout the room. She stifled a moan and dug her teeth into the pillow below her head. Her voice did nothing, only reminded him he wasn’t you. Aegon tried to get girls who resembled you but none pleased him the same. 

Today was an especially bad day for Aegon and mayhaps he was taking it out on the whore too much. Her cheeks were stained red from his slaps and surely her cervix would be bruised by how hard he was pounding himself into her. He had good reason though; you were returning home.

It took five years, but he almost was able to move forward with his life. You still plagued him in his dreams and there was a constant tugging at his heart everytime your name was brought up. You simply existing reminded him of the only time he was ever happy, and he clung to the memory like a baby clings to their mother's tit. 

His family was very determined to keep you away. It worked successfully, he hadn’t heard nor seen from you at all. Every letter, every flight, every potential unsavory way of stalking your whereabouts was immediately dispelled. That was only within the first year, at some point he gave up. Aegon knew you would come back at some point; you were in love with him. But days, weeks, months, and years passed and still he received nothing. 

The idea they had turned you against him murdered the last bit of hope he had. It was one of the many things that formed him into the ‘monster’ everyone believed him to be. The first was being born the first son yet being ignored for his elder sister his entire life. The night at Driftmark was the second trauma that seared a mark into his heart and brother's face forever. The third was the forceful marriage to his sister.

Aegon scarcely remembers that day or the night afterwards. He used milk of the poppy to ease his mind to the point he could hardly stand during the vows… he doesn’t know if he actually attended the first dance. He does remember the bedding and it makes his skin crawl. 

He was forced to walk into and perform his own rape. He didn’t want it and would never want it. There was no daydream or drug strong enough to make him forget. It was awful in every sense of the word. Aegon cried during it and then he cried after it. No matter how much he scrubbed himself in the bathing chambers he could not free himself of the feeling of disgust. Then there was the overwhelming guilt that came after. 

Aegon never touched her again, never really interacted with his own children. Why would he? He was an accomplice in her suffering as much as his own. She didn’t want to marry him either, she didn’t want to bear his children. He could never be a good husband, lover or anything of the sort to Helaena. She deserved it, he thought, to have someone who could care for her. Someone who could love her like a wife… not like a sibling.

But that would never be him and it ate him alive like the disease killing their father. She was too kind, too pure for him or any other man at court. She was stupid, yes, but with a larger heart than any of the women he’s met combined. Yet, he never brought himself to do his duty to stay loyal and cherish her like Alicent told him to. The only good thing he ever did for Hel was leaving her alone, it made her happy to be free of him. In truth, it would make everyone happier if the world was rid of him completely. 

Maybe his life wasn’t over yet, maybe there was still a shred of hope for him left in the world. The reason he used to be happy was returning to him. Even if it was to marry another man… He could sort that out easily enough. When Aegon first heard the news, he wasn’t as calm. He 

He could take back what was his and become the man everyone wants him to be… Or he’ll drag you down into his depravity with him. It didn’t matter, either option was a severe improvement from the existence he was currently suffering. 

“Are you ready to be back?” Jacaerys inquired whilst trying to tame the loose curls on his head. The carriage ride from the doc to the keep had proved to be dreadfully long and boring. Luke was seeping anxiety that made the entire car tense. ‘Aemond, Aemond, Aemond, he’s gonna take my eye! He’s gonna kill me if I go back!’ The chants of a scared kid really did threaten to send you over the edge. ‘Just apologize, Lucerys... He’s not going to do anything while grandsire is alive. Nothing is going to happen, just say sorry before it does.’ 

Everything you said fell on deaf ears. His fear was expected, he took his uncle's eye and received no punishment. Granted, after hearing both sides it seemed inevitable for someone to get gravely injured. You still genuinely believed or at least convinced yourself a simple apology might just keep Luke alive for a few more years. “No brother, I would rather be at home,” you muttered in a near whisper. 

Jace, always the obedient son, was oozing confidence completely unbothered by the situation. He learned that from Daemon, never let them see you falter, especially the Hightower cunts. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?” 

Your heart clenched, a sorrowful reminder of your childhood beginning to boil to the surface. A whirlwind of memories threatening to break you. 

You learned how truly codependent you were on your uncle. Without him you had become a shell of whatever it was you once were. Your insecurities reigned supreme as you had an insatiable need for approval from everyone. That meant doing everything you were asked and then some to become the greatest version of yourself you could be. You took care of people, especially your brothers whom you felt the full burden for. You were the eldest and you allowed them into a situation that got them hurt and another child maimed. 

It wasn’t just your insecurities; your moods would take a turn quicker than before. At the drop of a hat, you could be raging or hysterically crying. Sometimes you didn’t even understand why. You became obsessive over little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. For example: how your dresses were fitted, how your hair was styled, and what you ate and drank. It wasn’t in the front of your mind at the time, but you did things in the way he always preferred. 

Without him, deciding on things became hard. You never needed to think before because he did it for you. Not only that but you became a chronic liar. It wasn’t on purpose, sometimes things would just slip out. You were great at denying any problems you had and chalking them up to your blood moon. You denied any relationship with Aegon and defended him more than he deserved. Especially since he so carelessly abandoned you. No letters, no visits, he left you with fucking nothing. You started to convince yourself you never loved him; it was just pity. You had a burning desire to rescue him and mistook it for genuine affections. 

Four years ago, almost to this very day the invitation to the prince and princess’s wedding had just reached your doorstep. You learned that day just how much you did love him because when the letter was read you cried so much you vomited. You stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped doing all the things you love and rotted in your bed waiting for the pain to subside… Or for the stranger to take you. 

The image of him touching her the same way he did you, the idea of him whispering the same things he did to you, the way she would cry out his name like you did… It made you want to rip your hair out and peel your skin off. She probably had an extremely elegant dress; the throne room was probably filled with music and guests, and they would ride their dragons together to show off their union… You tore all the clothes he liked to shreds and punched a hole in your mirror… 

Originally, you never had any disdain for your exceedingly kind and misunderstood aunt but now it was pure untamed hatred. The jealousy was incredible, truly you would be confined to a prison cell if you acted on the things you thought up. 

You could kill both of them and end the war before it even started. You prayed she would miscarry the twins, it didn’t happen. You prayed he would get too drunk and die from alcohol poisoning, obviously it didn’t happen. You prayed the entire keep would be set on fire and everyone within it would die burning in flames just as your father did… it did not. 

You were never good enough for him. He abandoned you and left you to rot after taking something so important from you. You were a fool, a naive idiot. The fear of being abandoned personified ever more when your mother gave birth to two legitimate children. Everyone was going to abandon you and it was driving you insane. You had mastered the art of pretending, no one was able to tell what was underneath the surface. 

Jacaerys was really the only person who noticed the change. He was the only one who saw through your lies and facade. And he was the only one who genuinely helped you overcome the complete insanity you had sunk into. He pulled you out from drowning in a sea of madness and kept you afloat ever since. In turn, you felt a little guilty for your wicked thoughts and desires, but you were atoning for them by good will and actions. 

Still, sometimes late at night when you were alone, he would come back. The memories would come flooding in and sleep would evade you. He had burned a scar into your heart that never fully healed and probably never would. According to your mother who said the first heartbreak is always the worst and most memorable. You didn’t want to come back. You didn’t ever want to see Aegon Targaryen again. 

“No, it’s because- ” You hit your head on the back of the car, knocking the air out of your lungs. The carriage came to a halt, catapulting Lucerys forward into the other seat. Jacaerys bursted into uncontrollable laughter as he rubbed his forehead from the impact. 

It was a great start to a visit, a crash landing. Surely, not foreshadowing the rest of your adventure. As you unpiled from the carriage a welcome party stood there waiting for you. It was unexpected, seeing your grandsire there in decent health, you heard he was much worse. 

Then there were the Hightowers, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but here. Your eyes scanned over them one by one, Alicent wore her plastered fake smile as usual, Otto stood too stiffly and only looked at Daemon, Aemond looked ready to murder you all. He was far different from what you remembered, tall, slender, and handsome even with one eye. 

Then there was Helaena… Completely disassociated from whatever was happening and mumbling under her breath. You smiled, the rage you felt before when you imagined her was gone. You had actually healed and successfully moved forward. This was good, so great you could even hug her… 

Until your eyes moved to her left. The sunken feeling in your chest blossomed into a new monster threatening to devour you. Your smile faded; your heart began erratically pumping blood to all parts of your body. Your knees locked in place trying to keep your balance. 

Aegon… Aegon was only ten feet away and yet there seemed to be miles between you. It was a joke, a great joke, he looked more gorgeous than he ever had. His hair was cut to frame his face perfectly, his jaw was more defined, his dark circles brought out the beautiful sea blue that surrounded his pupils. 

The smile that adorned his face was larger than any you had seen him wear prior. His eyes twinkled with childlike glee. The corset you wore became suffocatingly tight and the heat in King’s Landing began to make your head spin. Your breathing was rapid, a million emotions coursing their way through your head. 

Aegon took a step down the stairs, your body wanted to flee but you were frozen in time. Another step, all the air in your body left you. A third step made all the bile in your stomach rise to your throat. His feet touched the ground, and he strode towards you, the world started to spin, your mind racing with the worst possible outcomes. 

You blinked, for a mere second. You reminded yourself it had been five years; he had no hold on you anymore. He was a monster, a terrible man and a worse son. Aegon was not going to get under your skin, you were not going to falter in front of him. You were better now, you moved on, you were mentally healthy… 

You opened your eyes, inhaling a deep breath. He was one pace in front of you, “Niece.” 

Disappointment, Aegon was riddled with it every day and today was no expectation. He was so excited his soul wanted to jump out of its skin. But no, the second he approached you passed out and all the sudden he was the villain. What could he have possibly done a foot away to make you faint? 

Unless you were too excited to see him, your heartbeat too fast and you fainted. It would make the most sense, reuniting with the person you truly love would send anyone over the edge. It almost made him faint when he first laid eyes upon you. 

Gods you were so much more beautiful than he could have imagined. You had grown into a gorgeous woman, easily the prettiest one at court. Your eyes sparkled like diamonds, your hair flowed perfectly down your face, and your cheeks still flushed bright pink when you saw him.  

Your dress hugged your figure in all the right places and the things he imagined laid beneath made him insatiably horny. Control, he had to remind himself it’d been years and he needed that. It was hard considering the two days you’d been here he had only seen one glimpse. One quick glimpse in the courtyard before you were stolen away again. 

Your chambers were only a few hallways away and he could see you anytime he wanted. And yet, Aegon had to plot when to corner you. There was not only a hoard of guards following you around every step you took but Jacaerys clung to your skirts like a lost orphan. 

So, he waited and waited… and fucking waited until he was practically ripping the hair from his skull. The lack of your presence was okay on the first day, the second it was tolerable but by the third day it became suspicious. Impatient and spoiled, his mother’s words rang true more and more each day. 

It was increasingly clear that it wasn’t just them keeping you from him, but you were putting extra care into avoiding him. What did he do wrong? The stalking? The letters? The gifts that were never opened. It was all obvious professions of love… Why would you be uncomfortable with that?

Aegon was nursing another goblet of wine as he sunk to the floor. His face felt wet as if he were crying… Was he crying? His body to the point of numbness he could not tell any longer. Sadly, it seemed the wine was not working to cure the ever-disheartening thoughts in his mind. 

You were going to get married and forget all about him. They hadn’t given him a single opportunity to attempt to carve his way back into your heart and most likely weren’t going to. What was the reason for living at this point? The one thing he yearned to touch was so close yet so far. 

He scoffed at himself. Aegon was no tragic poet, but he was beginning to sound like one. It was the alcohol, a new type probably causing his episode. He went to grasp the corner of the table to stand up, but his legs could no longer withstand his weight. The contents on the table along with his own body fell to the floor. 

Not one of his proudest moments to date.  

“You’re pathetic,” an irritating voice laced with superiority drew him out of his head. “Brother, have you come to visit your- I mean my children? They aren’t here.” Aemond clenched his jaw once, twice until he let out a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with Aegon, there was no winning against someone fueled by pure delusions. 

He would never come to see his- Aegon’s children in his room. They would be with their sweet mother far away from the monstrosity they called dad. “We’re all being forced to attend her wedding tourney.” 

“When?” Aegon’s eyes lit up and the sunken expression finally lifted. “At dawn,” Aemond took a step back before the smell of wine, sweat and uncleanliness of three days seeped into his nose. “For the love of the seven take a bath!” 

Hope, there was still hope left in the world! All of the sudden he had awakened, the whimpering pathetic mess he was a few moments ago was long forgotten. The gears in his brain began turning… 

As Aemond strode out of Aegon’s chambers a new plan formed into the mind of the monster himself… “Little brother,” he sang with a cruelty only Aegon could possess. “Will our dear uncle Gwayne be participating?” 

-

Aemond did not loathe his brother as much as everyone believed he did. Yes, he was jealous Aegon the wastrel was first born, and he was not. Yes, he was jealous Helaena was forced to marry the pig instead of him. No, he did not blame his brother for any of this. Solidarity was exceedingly important in times like these, future succession wars and all. 

What he learned was, Aegon hated being married to Helaena as much as she did. Aegon didn’t want to be king and would gladly give it to Aemond if the time came. Lastly, as sad as Aegon could be he was fiercely loyal to his family. If it came down to it Aemond knew his brother would die for them… or take an eye instead. 

“Has he stopped wallowing in his sorrow?” Even when she insulted people Helaena’s voice sounded like angels in his ear. “No, though he has come up with another borderline war crime plan.” She let out a deep sigh as she fiddled with the needle she used to sew. “Should I ask?” 

“He’s urging Gwayne to kill the Fiance before they have a chance to wed.” Helaena stifled a laugh; she should be offended he would dishonor her or even vengeful since her husband dare tried to intervene on another woman’s affairs. Instead, she bit her lip from smiling, “I should be glad she is not as deranged as him or I may not be here today.” 

Aemond rose from his seat and sat down next to her. His long fingers gently caressed the side of her face, pushing back the strands that obscured his view of her violet eyes. “I would kill her before she could ever lift a finger.” 

Helaena gently tugged Aemond’s hands away from her face, cupping them in her lap. “Aems you are far too serious. She’s still as sweet as a rose I hear…” 

There was a sudden silence between them, not uncomfortable in the slightest but eerily still, nonetheless. If Helaena was being honest with herself, she felt terribly for you. She couldn’t imagine what pain he had caused or what exactly he had done to cause you to faint at the mere sight of him. 

She could imagine, Helaena simply wished not to burden herself with those thoughts. You were her savior in a weird sense of the word. Because of your existence her brother did not attempt to bed her or force heirs upon her, he did not touch her, he did not bother her unless requested of him. You kept his mind preoccupied, so she wasn’t completely trapped in a horrid marriage such as her mothers. Aegon was a good brother and only a brother… Sometimes she worried what would happen if you ceased to exist. 

Still, she was trapped in a marriage. Aemond and Helaena had two vastly different reasons for wanting you around. Helaena wanted to see Aegon content, happy even if they were lucky. And if things happened the way it did in her dreams… Their marriage would be annulled and you two could wed and she could continue to do as she pleased with the father of her children. A fairytale but she was known for being the dreamer. 

Aemond simply wanted his brother to get off his fucking ass and do something with his life. He wanted him to stop whoring, to stop pushing away duties, and to start taking matters seriously. The only way he was going to do that was if his favorite toy was promptly returned to him. You also kept Aegon far away from his beloved Helaena, that was merely a bonus. 

If he had to choose, obviously he would have not chosen his brother to become obsessed with one of the bastards, it couldn’t be helped anymore. The seeds of whatever drug Aegon made you take to enjoy him had already been planted. The spell you used to seduce him had already begun working. 

At the very least you defended them… somewhat. It was enough to make him wish you were dead even less. He had to remind himself, though you were a bastard and related to his sworn enemy, you were also just a woman. As his mother once said, ‘all women are created in the image of the mother and to be spoken of with reverence… And to be treated as such!’ 

Aemond let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “We’re going to find a convoluted way to help him, aren’t we?” Helaena hummed to herself for a moment, was there any way they could really help you? “Do you believe she is distant because she believes he abandoned her?” 

They gazed at each other for a moment, a silent agreement. You were easy to read, at least to the dreamer herself… “Yes Aems, I think we are.”

The dress you were forced into was unbearably tight, the summer sun had seeped through the red fabric and your blood felt as if it was boiling. The royal stand was too crowded, too many unwelcome faces and bodies suffocating you. The noise of horses and knights preparing to show off for your favor made your ears ache. Unbearable, that was the best way you could describe your current predicament. 

The fainting spell was enough to have your mother confine you to chambers. She knew, your brothers knew, the Hightowers knew, everyone in the entire keep could see through you both. At every single turn you were specifically swayed far away from your uncle. Absolutely no contact, especially since you were to be married. 

That’s what the entire day was for, to celebrate you being sold off to a son of Dorne. If the heat in King’s Landing doesn’t kill you first, then surely the sun there will do the job. You hoped your death would come sooner rather than late. 

If the day could not go any worse the sound of someone taking a seat next to you caused you to flinch. You could smell him, practically taste the wine emitting off of him. Then there was the seat to your left, the scent of flowers filled your nose. Your eyes stayed glued to your hands. You didn’t dare move or breathe… 

A gentle hand that was as soft as a feather pillow touched yours. “Don’t be nervous.” Helaena, of all the people in the world you did not expect her to say such. Especially now, since you were separating husband and wife or did, they purposely do this to torment you further? “If I’m sitting in your place I can move, princess.” 

You kept your head turned to her, trying your hardest to ignore the one sitting far too close to your right. Where was your mother? Your brothers? Where was your family to rescue you? “Nonsense! I purposely asked Jacaerys to let me sit next to you.” To the right, you could feel two violet eyes burning holes into the back of your skull. 

“How lovely,” you muttered out trying to find your family from the corner of your eyes. How in the seven hells was he next to you? You turned your body towards the crowd, an invisible shield in your mind blocking you from turning the other way. 

Behind you, your entire family was in the row above staring daggers into Aegon. Of course, he stole Lucerys seat before he had a chance to protest. The sound of trumpets blaring, and the weakened voice of your grandsire distracted you, momentarily from the hell you were living in. 

A warm and soft hand was placed over your own. Dragging your nails from tarnishing the skin around them. “Afraid your husband to be is going to lose?” It felt as though a bolt of lightning shot down your back. You bit your lip, no you wanted him to lose and potentially be stabbed in a duel. You actually want to be stabbed too right now.

Milk of the poppy was your savior. That’s what had been prescribed to keep you grounded. It’s why you’re not currently on the floor unconscious. It's why you decided to engage in conversation instead of keeping your mouth shut. It's why you let his hands caress your own and bask in the warmth they provided. It wasn’t you; it was the medication. 

“Why aren’t you participating in the tourney?” You could feel a smile curve onto his face, though you swore not to look. “Why would I? Do you want me to compete for your favor?” You turned to look at him, shocked by the accusation you would want him of all people competing for you. That was a fantasy of children, a dead one at that. 

A mistake was made when you glanced at him. Gods, he was beautiful in the most pathetic way possible. The dark circles, the smug smile, the unruly hair, the piercing eyes and the jaw with just a tad of baby fat encompassing it. You forgot his lady wife sitting next to you, you forgot your family watching you. For a moment, it was just you looking at the pretty monster who ruined you. A shimmer of hope, a memory of childhood championship bubbled to the surface. 

“No Aegon, I think you would lose,” you jested. His eyes sparkled; his subtle grin turned into a wide blinding smile. “I think I already have your favor.” Your mouth parted to speak, cheeks brimming red from the implication.

Down below the sounds of cracking shields and screams of pain stifled by armor were becoming the loudest noise. A Blackwood had just begun a duel with a Bracken and… his entrails were staining the tan colored sand a dark shade of crimson. You felt bile rising up in your throat as you unconsciously tightened your drip on Aegon’s hand. An act that didn’t go unnoticed and was quickly returned. 

“Not a fan of bloodshed?” His voice sounded softer, almost kind versus his usual unserious tone. He was staring at the side of your face and his eyes shone with mild concern combined with amusement. Aegon was always one for violence, not you.  By no means were you against it, seeing the insides of someone’s stomach simply didn’t suit your fancy. 

“And the day grows ugly…” Helaena let out a deep sigh as she gazed at the scene below. Her voice made you quickly realize how disrespectful you were being towards their marriage. In a second, your hand was ripped out of his grasp and placed firmly on your lap. Avoid, you avoided both of their looks and your gaze moved strictly forward. 

You could have sworn you saw a flash of Aemond’s eyepatch and his fingers patting at her knee. Oddly enough, you were very suspicious of brother and sister relationships considering the family you were born into. Thank heavens you were amongst the normal ones… almost. 

“You’re not wrong, Hel. You’re not wrong.” Aegon’s voice had lost all its original sympathetic tone as his lips formed into a pout like a spoiled brat. “Princess! Your favor would surely help me win this tournament if you could be so kind.” 

The sound of your fiancés voice made you want to sink into the abyss of your mind and let it swallow you. Maybe even feed yourself to Vhagar much like your late aunt Laena did. Aegon looked worse, enraged and annoyed to the utmost level. 

His body moved slowly towards your fiancée, and you swore if looks could kill he would be dead. You didn’t flinch or falter this time. You no longer frowned at the sight of the man you were supposed to marry. In fact, you were bubbling with joy.

The second Martell son held a huge smile while he waited for you to place your favor on his lance. You did your best to make a spectacle out of it, wishing him luck as loudly as you could. Your mother was smiling proudly, surely congratulating herself on a fine match she had made. 

She didn’t understand, you weren’t happy because of him. You were happy to see Aegon leaking envy from his pores with the most miserable look on his face. Now he was feeling exactly what you did and it felt fucking fantastic. You gracefully sat back in place with a smile that went ear to ear. 

“Would you like to place a bet on who will win, uncle?” He shifted in place, his eyes following the black mare your fiancée rode. “I don’t intend on betting coins, niece.” An awfully smug look creeped onto his face. “What are we betting?” 

Aegon leaned into you, so his mouth nearly brushed over your ear. His breath was heavy and laced with confidence. His whispers sent a shiver up your spine that glued you in place. “If Gwayne Hightowers knocks your beloved husband off his horse I get to claim you in front of everyone.” 

“…”

Your breath hitched in your throat as the world paused. Heat rose from the tips of your toes to the very top of your head, radiating in all directions. The drugs were no longer keeping your very unstable emotions at bay. Your cheeks were not just flushed by the idea but from the crushing reminder he was not yours to claim. He was stolen from you and didn’t mind until you showed back up. No letters, no secret rendezvous, no gifts on name days or holidays… To Aegon it was always just a game. 

A game he was still fucking playing at your own expense. Could he not see he had done enough? He had ruined what sliver of self-respect you had years ago? What else was there for him to take besides your life. Your original despair turned into something hateful, “My husband will win and when he does you have to stay away from me for as long as I’m here.” 

His mouth hung agape as he was trying to debate this completely unfair bet. Aegon was going to make a jest, defend himself or anything really before the trumpets blared loud enough for the deaf to hear. “Hmph,” you turned in your seat, stone faced, chin held high, completely ignoring his presence to watch the knights begin to mount their horses.

Ser Gwayne Hightower was wearing a suit of armor and a green cape. Gwayne’s helm was in the shape of a lantern… It looked completely ridiculous. His horse wasn’t stupid, it was a powerful white charger, and his lance appeared to be held firmly in his grip. From all the stories you’ve heard, he was an amazing knight. He’d won many tourneys in the past and nearly knocked down Daemon once. 

Your fiancée was on the other side, and he certainly did stand out… The golden decor on his armor was perhaps a bit much and he refused to wear a helm. His horse was beautiful albeit not as powerful as the charger. It wasn’t looking very good.

You were too busy praying to the seven for mercy when the two horses took off. In a flash their lances connected, and poor Quentyn was nearly thrown off. You heard a snicker from the corner, and you whipped your head to stare at the smirk plastered all over Aegon’s face. “Heh look at that!” No fucking way, no way in the names of any god would he get to do anything with you. “Fuck you, uncle,” the venom laced words seeped out of your mouth before you could contain them. Your perfect facade was beginning to break so quickly. 

“That can be arranged.” You gritted your teeth and your nostrils flared. Seeing him win in anyway made you want to snatch a sword and shove it right between his fucking… 

“We have a winner!” 

The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, and you forgot whatever your last thought was. You stood up from your seat to gaze at the ground and surely enough… 

“Quentyn Martell has won the favor of the Princess!” 

Heh heh heh…. You turned to look at him with a smirk only the divine could wear, “I win.” 

He miss stepped, Aegon had completely misread the situation at hand. Her mind had been completely poisoned by those… those cunts! And Gwayne completely fumbled the fucking tourney. This added more layers to the issues already at hand. Firstly, her husband needed to go and fast. Secondly, he had to untaint her mind. Thirdly, how the hell was he going to keep her here with him? Aegon only had a single day and night to do it… 

CRASH

Another empty goblet of wine was thrown into the wall. The small shards covered the floor like winter snow tainted by red droplets of wine. The prince was raging and drinking… ceaselessly. “For the love of the seven will you sit down!” Aemond watched unamused, on the edge of storming out himself at this display. It was getting annoying how easily irritated his brother was becoming. Aegon stomped across, “We have to kill him… Preferably sooner rather than late.” 

“We could tell the truth about her virtue and have a Septon annul the marriage… avoid making any unnecessary enemies.” Aegon pivoted to stare at Aemond, face void of any signs of agreement. “Yes, and besmirch her reputation in the process… Ha! That will surely make her crawl into my bed.” 

Aemond really fucking hated sarcasm above all forms of conversation. “Oh, great manipulative tactician, what exactly were you thinking?” His steps paused as he toyed with the knife he kept on belt. He wasn’t a genius nor was he overly capable of manipulation like his grandfather…

“It can only work if she is obsessed with me again.” The younger brother let out a groan, rubbing his face with both his hands. “What exactly are you planning to do?” 

A wicked smirk curled its way onto his lips. His pupils momentarily turned dark, “Not I, dear brother, what are you going to do.” Aemond lowered his hands, so his eye picked through, raising an eyebrow. 

—

“This won’t do,” Rhaenyra declared as she tossed another necklace laced with jewels onto the floor of your chambers. “Mother!” you gaped as the expensive piece fell to the floor. She pursed her lips together, fingers grazing the delicate jewelry laid before you. “My first born, my only daughter is getting married… Tacky crystals won’t do.” You sunk deeper into your chair, twirling your wet hair in between your fingers. 

Rhaenyra closely examined a few more pieces, none of which suited her exquisite taste. She turned to you, her eyebrows creasing together. “You look more pale than usual.” You looked up at her and her eyes were laced with concern. One thing about your mother is that you could never lie to her. She knew you more than you knew yourself. The slightest bit of discomfort she could snuff out and exile it from your mind. 

“I haven’t been sleeping well as of late.” Her gentle hands went to comb through your hair. “If you changed your mind and don’t wish to get married, I could always have Daemon, take care of it.” You choked up a laugh, “threatening murder on my wedding day? How very festive.” 

A small smile made her lips curve upwards. She let out a breath, plucking a necklace off the counter and holding it to your neck. “Is it him?” The dragon necklace made of diamonds laced with gold details seemed to taunt you. “No, he hasn’t bothered me at all.” A bold-faced lie that your mother could see through instantaneously. Rhaenyra wrapped the necklace around your throat and clasped it in the back. “Really? He seemed to bother you at the tourney.” 

The necklace seemed to be choking you though it wasn’t tight at all. It would have been something you wore if you were getting married to him instead. A golden dragon paying homage to Sunfyre… “Just playful banter. Honestly it went far better than expected.” 

She looked as if she was about to contest what you said but three knocks at the door caught both your attention. It slowly creaked open revealing a maid no older than fifteen. She stood meekly in the entrance shifting eyes between your mother and yourself. 

“I didn’t mean to disturb you; the king requested your presence.” Your mother raised her brow, questioning the situation at hand. You gave a nearly unnoticeable nod, reassuring her everything was all right. She clapped her hands together, “You’re not disturbing anyone! My love I’ll return shortly.”

Rhaenyra strided out the door with the confidence only a queen could possess. You envied the way she carried herself no matter the situation. You slumped back down into your chair staring at yourself in the grandiose mirror. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having Daemon rid you of your husband… If anything, he would probably take pride in having something to hold over your head.

But a war was brewing, it was an inevitable fact that no one could deny and soon it would be impossible to ignore. You needed the dornish alliance, and you were the perfect bargaining chip… Curse the seven for making you a woman. 

“You look like you’re in agony. Already getting the wedding blues?” It’s no use asking how he snuck in, it’s no use asking why he was here, and it’s absolutely no fucking use to start panicking. “Uncle, I thought we had an agreement.” His steps were light, almost frolicking to stand behind your seat in front of the vanity. Aegon’s face was the ideal image of serenity, you couldn’t say the same for yourself. 

“It’s your wedding day! Surely, I can offer my congratulations on this joyous day.” There wasn’t an honest way you could describe the pain within your chest. It felt as if a blade had carved a hole within your heart that refused to heal. A dark abyss threatening to swallow you whole. He wasn’t meant to be happy; you were supposed to be cheery. Aegon was meant to pin after you until he died… Not move on and get married, have children, and celebrate your own wedding. 

You didn’t feel the tears quietly falling from your eyes or the way your lip was quivering. His hand moved to graze your shoulder, but you jumped out of your seat, snapping your head back to face him. “Don’t touch me!” He put his hands up in mock surrender, “W-woah…”

“Did you come here to torment me some more? Do you revel watching me be so miserable?” He stumbled back, muttering some incoherent apology that fell on deaf ears. “You abandoned me! You left me like a dog and went to go playhouse with your perfect fucking family, perfect fucking wife and two perfect children.” 

One of the many things you were shouting must have triggered something within him. Aegon grabbed your shoulders with such force you almost buckled under their grip. He shook you like a child would shake their pet if it stopped listening. “Perfect? Have you become fucking delusional? What part of a forced marriage to your sister sounds perfect to you?!” 

“Let me go! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You shouted in between sobs. “No! You’re telling me you’ve been ignoring me for years because you’re fucking jealous?” You swatted at his face, attempting to grab him by his hair to pull him down. Poor idea, Aegon always thought violence was exciting. Somewhere amidst the fight you ended up wrestling on the ground shouting curses at one another. 

“I hate you! I would never be jealous of you!” Aegon shiftly straddled you and began fighting to grab your wrists again. To make it all the more unbearable the bastard was smiling. “Bullshit! It’s seeping off of you.” You bit down on his hand that came just a little too close to your mouth. He growled, slamming on wrists behind your head. “Seven hells will you calm down and listen!” 

You writhed underneath him, albeit with less screams of curses. This rather pathetic display went on for only another minute before he forced his lips onto yours. It was rough, mainly teeth clashing together and lips fighting against one another. Part of you wished it could continue, to relive your past one more time before you were sold off. 

The other part of you bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Aegon relented, a droplet of blood staining his swollen bottom lip. Whatever spell he had put on you had worked; you were quiet and unusually still. “Look at me.” You turned your head to face the wall, refusing to be trapped by those damned eyes. “Look at me!” Begrudgingly, after being shouted at, you looked at him. “My marriage is not happy. I swear on my own life I only bedded her once. I was so drunk I can’t even remember if it truly happened…” 

“More lies… You have two children.” He scoffed, looking around the room as if asking the seven for patience. “Oh, for the love of- Do you really think those are mine? Just look at them!” Aegon appeared unbelievably desperate for you to believe him. His eyes frantically searching yours for any comfort… 

The twins did appear more similar to one brother than the other… Jaehaera herself was a spitting image of Helaena only. “I don’t believe you…” His face dropped as if you had taken an arrow to his heart. “But it wouldn’t matter if I did. I’m getting married tonight.” A foolish course of action on your part because you gave him hope. A dangerous thing if given to the wrong people and he was by far the wrong person. 

He pressed his mouth against you once more, this time his soft lips caressed your own gently. The taste of wine and iron coated your tastebuds, and it wasn’t at all displeasing. It was comforting, like a hug from an old friend. He pulled his right hand away from your wrist, almost giving you time to escape. But the second your arm moved he grabbed it with his left. A gentle, almost comfortable, kiss was turning into a desperate one. 

Aegon’s tongue slid into your mouth doing circles with your own. Your breaths quickened as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and then kissing it before letting go again. His hands slid down to your thighs, cupping them firmly in his warm palms and massaging their shape. You shivered when his fingers brushed against your most sensitive area, it had been so long since anyone had touched you. 

The wedding you were supposed to be attending today became a distant memory as he kissed you senseless. His lips trailed across your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his nose grazed yours again you found yourself trembling with need. 

“You have missed me,” he whispered breathlessly. You wanted to say no, that your body was betraying you but when his fingers grazed your unclothed cunt all you could mutter was “ah, ah, ah~”

His tongue flicked out and traced up the side of your neck, then back down. He slipped his tongue inside of your ear, and then swallowed down all of your words. His fingers began gently teasing at your clit, sliding between your wet folds, rubbing it painstakingly slow. You whimpered into his mouth, begging him to do more.

Aegon wasn’t supposed to give it all to you so easily but… Forcing in a few fingers was far from all he could do. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of your slick folds, making sure to tease your clit each time. His eye had a wicked gleam to them watching you come undone underneath him, “you think you’ll be happy with another man? You think he’ll be able to please you like I do?” 

You opened your mouth but all that came out was a muffled cry. “No one knows your body like I do. No one can ever please you like I do.” His fingers moved swifter curling up to hit the sweet spot inside of you. Your legs buckled around him as you began to moan ceaselessly. A wicked smile took over his features, “be honest with yourself everytime you try to fuck another man you’ll be imagining me, my lips, my tongue, my fingers and my cock inside of you.” 

Your arms fell limply by your sides, the world spinning in circles as a delicious haze descended upon you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his fingers as he continued to push them deeper inside of you. “I’ve already ruined you, what other man could want you?  Who do you belong to? Say it!” 

“Y-You! Aegon! I belong to you.” You cried out in pleasure, your voice echoing through the room. He pressed his lips against you once more, swallowing all the noises you made as your cunt tightened around his thick fingers. “That’s a good little girl,” He purred as your orgasm washed over you.

“Aegon…” You breathed, your head lolling to the side as he pulled his fingers out of your quivering pussy. He sat up, face returning to its usual expression of complete nonchalant. “I’ll give you time to get all dressed up, recite vows you do not mean with a stranger, dance until your heart's content and then I’m taking back what’s rightfully mine.” 

He leaped off of you swiftly, lazily fixing his hair and wiping the blood from his mouth. You propped yourself up on your elbows, “What in the seven hells?” Aegon smiled at you, but it wasn’t one of genuine joy. It was sick with cruel eyes behind it. “You’ll see.” 

The seeds of doubt had been planted into your mind and had already begun to sprout. The once joyous occasion was quickly turning into a fucking nightmare. To be Frank, you really wish you were dead instead of standing up here reciting vows you did not mean. It was awkward, unbelievably awkward. For five years your beloved had been pining for you and you were too blind to see it. 

Or it was all a sick joke being played on you. Which one was worse you did not know. Your entire family stood there, smiling, your mother nearly on the verge of tears seeing her only daughter preparing to start a family of her own… Gods, is this how Aegon felt all these years knowing he was the disappointment? You had been completely soiled and yet here you stand with your new husband… Aegon’s scent and markings weren’t even fully off of you! 

The entire ceremony was eerily calm. No random bursts of violence or protests to your union.  Which means your uncle may or may not intend to murder and or maim this man tonight. Any sound of mind woman would be sick at the thought and run for aid… Obviously you were not at all that type of girl. Currently you were jumping out of your skin waiting for him to finally arrive and rescue you. 

The only issue was, he never did show up. Not for the first kiss, not for the first dance, not for the speech his father was barely able to make or the feast itself… Did he intend to ignore you until it was all over? 

____________________________________

Aegon was unbelievably late to the wedding celebration. It was on purpose; he had a few loose strings he needed to tie before he arrived. For once he was sober and painstakingly polite as he walked in. It is fair to mention he had the servants meticulously fix his normal disheveled appearance so he could make an impression on you. 

When Aegon first entered the great hall, his eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room, where a grand table adorned in the finest gold sits on a raised dais. The royal table is flanked on either side by rich red tapestries, ornately embroidered with the sigils of the houses respectively. If only he could burn all of the dornish banners with Sunfyre.

As he moved throughout the room, Aegon was struck by the attention to detail. Everywhere you looked, you saw the sign of the union between two powerful houses, a testament to the joyous occasion for which this room has been decked out. It was fucking disgusting and Aegon wanted to puke on it.

The throne room was filled to the brim with Lords and Ladies alike from all across the realm. In the center, just in front of the throne sat the royal table. On the opposing sides of the room were the packed tables for the highly esteemed guests. The middle of the room was cleared for dancing and eventually the marriage itself…

He wished he could throw himself into the spikes of the throne. Instead, he had to slither his way through the crowds to make way to the table. Aegon was tired of waiting, He was tired of hearing your family gawk at the well-made match and he was especially tired of doing nothing. Your husband would be dealt with in due time, but he hadn’t the patience to pretend not to be itching to speak to you, to touch you, anything but sit here and fucking watch. 

He finally pulled himself up onto the podium and marched his way in front of you. You seemed stunned, miserable, in awe of his beauty. All of which were better than you being happy to be wed. "I'm insulted you have yet to ask me to dance, uncle." His lips twisted into his usual overly confident smile. “didn’t want to disturb the happy couple so soon.” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you stuck out your hand waiting for him to take it. There were stares from certain people of course, those who knew what happened at Driftmark and potentially before. You didn’t really care anymore. 

For a moment, he was the perfect gentleman. Placing his hands in only the proper places and spinning you around the floor with ease. If you were a normal family, this would be a sweet interaction between relatives… But you were twisted and Targaryens. “You know, I’m putting more effort into this dance than my own wedding.” You scoffed, “Oh joy, surely no one will find this suspicious at all.” 

Aegon’s face mirrored disgust as he glanced around you. “Is something the matter?” He rolled his eyes, "Your dearly beloved is gawking." You stood on your tiptoes to glance over his shoulder. Surely enough, the pretty dornish prince was smiling ear to ear watching you…"Do something about it." 

The mischievous look Aegon always wore as a child made its reappearance. It was quick, his hands grasping onto your face and pulling you so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You would let me dishonor you in front of all these people, bad princess.” You whined trying to lean up into his face, but he pulled back, “tsk tsk, can’t let your husband see you so needy for my affection now, can we?” 

You wished he would stop referring to him as your husband. You wished he would stop reminding you of what waited for you after the night ended. “Sister… Prince Aegon.” Jacaerys appeared from behind like a thief in the night. Immediately souring any positive mood Aegon could have been in. He stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Nephew.” He gritted through his teeth with a subtle bow. 

“Princess, would you dance with me?” You glanced between the two and felt the humiliation of the situation beginning to seep in. Your mother was on the high podium with a faux smile and a death grip on her fork observing you… “Of course! Let’s go little brother.”

The dance was alright… But you couldn’t get your mind off of the Lannister girl who was practically drooling at the sight of Aegon. He had slept with her before you knew this much. A secret part of you kept track of the whores he buried his cock inside, at least the rich ones. What happened next was honestly a blur, you couldn’t remember a thing. Except that you may or may not have called her a whore and threatened her life if she dared to touch him… She scurried away with her hands on her and tears in her eyes. 

You weren’t jealous at all, only defending Helaena’s honor. 

____________________________________

“Prince Aegon, pleasure to finally meet you,” If the night couldn't get any better the man of the hour had just willingly approached the man plotting against him… “Prince Quentyn, nice of you to believe this is a pleasure.”  He smirked, “Your wife looks very beautiful.” Aegon patted his shoulders, “as does yours.” 

Quentyn winced, a rather noticeable scowl growing on his face. “She’ll never be yours, my prince.”

“You’ll see later tonight whose name she calls out while your cock is inside her.” He smiled a crooked grin. Quentyn’s fists balled up next to his sides, Aegon wasn’t one to directly fight, he was more behind the scenes type of criminal. There was no denying that he was strong, strong enough to crack this man’s skull. But that wasn’t part of the plan… His feet moved fast, swiftly connecting his fist to Aegon’s jaw. 

The crowd erupted behind them, lords and ladies screaming trying to escape the violence. Suddenly, Aegon stopped trying to attack and let the dornish cunt take charge. He tackled him to the ground and landed hit after hit… Was this really worth it, he thought to himself as blood started to trickle down his face. “You- fucking- wastrel-” Aegon was laughing hysterically whilst getting his face beat in… All according to plan, he told himself. 

“Get off of him!” You screeched in horror pulling at the man assaulting your lover. It wasn’t meant to take a turn like it did. Quentyn, not recognizing you, turned and landed a hit square to your cheek knocking you on your ass. “Protect the princess!” Some guard shouted from behind whilst dogpiling onto your husband. He stared in horror at what he had done, you were gripping your cheek mortified, and Aegon was laying there covered in blood laughing his ass off like a psychopath. 

The maester was applying ice to your cheekbone as you nervously picked at the seams on your dress. “We’ll have the marriage annulled by tomorrow.” Rhaenyra paced inside the room. “On what grounds? Aegon was obviously egging him on,” Jacaerys groaned from the corner. “I could kill him and fix this entirely,” Daemon muttered watching his wife rage on. 

The rest of the argument was drowned out, the only noise you could hear was the sound of Aegon’s jaw cracking. You didn’t feel despair that the wedding was ruined, you didn’t feel depressed that your husband had hit you… No, you felt completely fucking enraged. 

Seeing Aegon harmed had awoken something in you. It was hateful and could not be quelled by a simple apology. He fucking beat him to a pulp in the midst of your wedding then had the audacity to lay a hand on you… It may or may not have awoken something because seeing Aegon laughing whilst covered in his own blood made your core heat up. 

“Could I be given some milk of the poppy for the pain, mother?” Rhaenyra looked at you with the most sorrowful expression she could muster, “oh my sweet girl.” She cupped your cheeks in her hands and rubbed at the bruise that was forming. “Go fetch some tea for my daughter, Maester… Now!” 

____________________________________

You were returning to your chambers in a rather dumbed down state. The medicine made your mind hazy, and your body feel light as a feather. It was like wine but far better with less of a hangover. The corridors were dark, all the excitement from tonight was far over. You hummed to yourself lazily, dreading the return to where your husband lay. Until you felt a hand wrap around your mouth and yank you into a hole in the wall you never knew was there. 

You tried to scream but were quickly shushed by a voice that could only belong to one man. “Aegon? What are you doing?” He smiled at you, rubbing the bruise on your cheek. “Will you go out for a walk with me?” You raised your eyebrow in distrust, “To where?” Aegon grinned, almost too enthusiastically to trust, “the dragonpit.” 

The most unexpected event of tonight wasn’t the wedding brawl nor the injury that befall you. It was the fact you were riding on Sunfyre again, with Aegon holding onto your waist as you soared through the stars. It was a wedding gift, he claimed. As far as you knew Aegon never let anyone touch his dragon let alone ride with him, except you. 

It was indescribable, the feeling of the wind rushing past your cheeks. The view of the city and the moon shining above you reflecting off his scales. You were giggling uncontrollably the entire flight listening to Aegon tell jests you hadn’t heard in years. Whatever injury he had gained was long forgotten the second you took off. Whatever drama or chaos in the keep didn’t exist outside. In the sky, you both were completely free. 

You couldn’t say how long you spent outside. Mayhaps it was an hour or two before Sunfyre descended onto a nearby beach surrounded by the most beautiful rock formations you had seen. “Is this your version of bridenapping me?” You teased while he helped you climb down the saddle. “It’s only kidnapping if you fight back.” 

He grasped your hand leading you across the sandy beach, showcasing the stars he supposedly, desperately wanted to show you. “I have an actual gift for you too.” You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, “Is it a ride home on Sunfyre?” Aegon laughed, genuinely laughed for the first time since you’ve returned. He dug in his pocket searching for something… “I had it made years ago but never had the chance to properly give it to you.”

In his hand was the most beautiful golden ring in the shape of a dragon. “A ring? A Sunfyre ring?” Aegon grabbed your hand and slipped it on with ease, “I’m not that creative, you know this. it was meant to be something to remember me by when you left.” Tears were prickling your eyes once more. The fool kept the damned ring all these years and never mentioned it. “Aegon… Be honest for once with me please. Do you still love me?” 

He paused, searching tirelessly for the right words to say. “I… There hasn’t been a day in five years where I haven’t thought about you at least once. There hasn’t been an hour that something has not reminded me of you. There hasn’t been a single night I’ve slept without seeing you… It isn’t normal, it’s twisted and sick and cruel just like I am. No matter what you do to others, to me, to yourself. No matter if the world ends in a freeze or we are in the midst of a war of the ages… I believe I’ll always feel this… And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop until the seven hells take me.” 

You sniffled; he always had such a roundabout way of saying things. “I’ll always love you too.” He smiled genuinely, pulling you into a kiss so gentle yet so firm it made you forget all the dangers of the world, the drama, the potential war, your husband, everything was irrelevant except for you two, right now under the stars.

“We still haven’t done the bedding ceremony.” You whispered against his lips. His eyes lit up, “Have you always been so needy for me?” You didn’t have time to protest before he was passionately colliding his lips against yours once more. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him closer into you, making sure no part of you would ever be apart from him again.

His arms slipped below your waist as he lowered you onto the ground as gently as he could. Your legs fell open instinctively and his hands began to explore your body. It was vastly different from every other time you’ve been together. It was gentle and loving, passionate and pleasurable without the pain. 

Your bodies started to move in sync with each other, stripping away the clothes that hid your most intimate parts.  His hands held you close to his chest, keeping you warm while you were exposed to the elements. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him passionately with a hunger you had forgotten existed.

He broke the kiss, gasping for air. You opened your eyes to see the moonlight reflected off his face, sometimes Aegon Targaryen looked more God than man. He moved to suckle on your neck as he ran his length against your slit. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmured huskily against your ear. He slowly pushed inside, filling you with his thickness. You gasped from the sudden sensation. He was so deep within you, so far reaching you almost felt like you could reach out and touch the stars.

His kisses trailed down your neck, nibbling, sucking, biting. He took his time thrusting inside of you with slow movements, appreciating every moment your bodies were entertained. He stopped mid-thrust, holding himself deep within you.

“I love you, Princess.” He whispered, his voice so tender and soft. You blushed like a child; it was silly to think his cock being inside you didn’t make you feel as embarrassed as him telling you, his feelings. “Always.” You murmured back. He kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping past your teeth.

You clung tight to his neck, your nails digging into his skin. He moved faster, his breaths coming in shorter and quicker. You moaned, your thighs trembling from the feeling of fullness. His fingers traced circles on your inner thigh, and then he moved to your clit. 

He worked you effortlessly, eliciting soft whimpers and moans and love confessions. The world was a blur of fluorescent colors and smells, nothing mattered but you and Aegon. His climax came swiftly, almost right after your own. You begged for him to cum inside you, to fill you with his seed and he always did as you asked. 

He collapsed on top of you, his weight heavy on your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his back, feeling him relax. “Aegon…” You spoke his name softly, your head resting on his shoulder. “Mhmm?” He said in a daze. “Again?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his neck. He smirked, his cock twitching inside of you.

____________________________________

[daquila]

Nostalgia || Gojo Satoru x Reader

synopsis: looking back at an old photo while preparing for your wedding

a/n: didn’t proofread and mayhaps cried while writing this…

Nostalgia could be the worst and best thing in the world. It can start with a photo, one that had you and a certain white-haired sorcerer in it. The picture was taken from the summer of 2005, the day you first met Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru.

Your first impressions of the three weren’t that good, but you started to slowly appreciate them as the days passed by. Suguru, an accomplice to terrible pranks and tickle-fights, was pretty laid-back after missions— and Shoko quickly became your best friend after a few drinks. She was like your long-lost sister. Then there came Satoru, the one who you ended up crushing on.

Despite Satoru’s childish demeanor, he was kind-hearted, gentle, and loving to you. He found himself being less annoying around you compared to the other students. It was clear that he liked you back after a few months, because Suguru decided to spill the tea to everyone on a random hot, summer day.

What made you truly fall for the sorcerer was his selflessness. He regularly checks on you, shares his cherished snacks, and occasionally brings home some souvenirs for you. God— you were going crazy for this man!

You sort of wished that time froze for a second, so that you could relive that moment over and over again. It was nostalgic to look back at the photo, relishing what it felt like to be a teenager again. You still remember how sweet Satoru smelled— or maybe how the other two always smelled like burnt cigarettes and wet grass.

“ Have you finished writing the list of our guests, “ breaking the moment, Satoru stared at your figure from behind. He then walked towards you out of curiosity. After getting an idea of why you were so quiet, he decided to break the silence.

“ Oh— it’s us, “ he said, words trailing at the back of your mind. He said it so enthusiastically, slightly chuckling at the silly faces in the photo. Satoru proceeded to talk about the little things you used to do— like running together in the field, throwing small stones on windows, or playing with the teacher’s belongings. Everything that came out of his mouth was sickly sweet, almost reminiscent of how he’s such a sweet tooth.

You decided to return the photo to where you found it: your old, discolored diary.

“ I’ve finished writing the guests, “ you said, handing the list to your soon-to-be husband. Satoru skims through it, noticing some familiar names until he stumbles across the last one.

“ Suguru, “ it was quiet, but you managed to hear it anyway. His eyes were focused on that sole name as if he witnessed everything all over again.

“ He would’ve loved attending our wedding, “ Satoru’s lips trembled slightly, before resting his head on your shoulder.

“ I know, ‘Toru. He would’ve been so proud of us for coming this far. “

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Okay I got more angst prompts, not from the list this time. Consider:

After the final battle, after the hotel is rebuilt, when Lucifer finally gets the chance to go home and rest, it all hits him at once. Adam is actually dead. He didn't feel bad about it in the moment at all but now it's hitting him that Adam is dead and gone and oh no I killed one of the first people I ever loved. (Niffty wouldn't have been able to kill him if not for Lucifer, so he would have enough reason to blame himself) He's struck by grief, that love having never truly left. Charlie finds him, and comforts him.

Mayhaps her reaction finding out that her father loved Adam, their enemy? Mayhaps Luci's reaction when Adam respawns as a sinner? Up to you!

Indigo (struck with the desire to hurt my favourite characters emotionally)

*Sips coffee* Ahhh, after battle angst. Thank you for this! Please send more if you'd like :)

Lucifer hadn't had time to really let it sink in now, in his new room alone. He sat down on his bed, his chest weighed like a ton of bricks.

Adam was dead. He was dead dead as in no coming back. He still remembers the angelic blade going through the angels chest. All that blood.....

Lucifer felt his eyes pool with water. His first love was dead and he let him die. His heart clenched in his chest. Fuck. He thought he was over Adam, but guess not.

At the moment he didn't care. He was still angry that Adam would try and hurt Charlie. But he was going to let him live, Adam may have been an asshole but he was HIS asshole.

Then Charlie's little friend killed him.....

"Fucking hell." He swore as he scrubed the tears from his face. Closing his eyes, Lucifer could still see Adams face. Not the one from the battle field. The one in the garden.

Even then his eyes were bright and golden in color like honey. Soft brown hair ruffled and wild on his head, smile wide and breathtaking. Oh, how Lucifer wished he could go back to those days.

'Will we be friends forever, Luci?'

'Every day is amazing when I'm with you.'

'Luci, I think I lov-'

"FUCK!" Lucifer screamed, he gripped his hair painfully. "I'M SORRY! I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE I'M SORRY!!" He sobbed. He was just destined to never save his favorite human was he? Adam was all he ever wanted and now he was gone for good.

"Dad, are you busy there's some- Dad? Are you okay?" Charlie came in and sat down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"No." Was all he said, the guilt was weighing on him.

Charlie frowned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I loved him so much."

Charlie blinked and looked at her dad. "Who?"

Lucifer sniffed. "Adam." Not the answer Charlie thought she'd hear. "He was my first love Charlie, I was there when he was made from the dust of the earth. I showed him how to do many things. That man on the battlefield, the one filled with hate for demons. That was my fault. When your mother came into the picture I was blinded by her beauty that I didn't see who she really was." This was not a conversation to have right now. "I broke Adams heart when I chose her. I ruined something beautiful for something extra."

"But, he was the enemy. How could you love him?" She just didn't understand.

Lucifer smiled sadly. "You didn't know him like I did. The beautiful soul I knew he always was." And he was, Adam had a soul that shined so bright it was blinding. He just had up so many walls after Eden.

"What if he's not as dead as we thought?"

"Huh?" Lucifer looked at his daughter. "What do you mean?"

Charlie bit her lip. "That's why I came up here. Adam is here. Downstairs. As a sinner."

Lucifer never ran so fast in his life. Faster than Charlie could keep up, her cries in the distance. He flew down the stairs and stopped in his tracks when he got to the lobby.

There he was. In all his glory. Adam stood with his back to Lucifer, he had long black and gold horns that curved around to the back of his head like his exterminator mask horns. He was looking at his newly formed demon hands, black up to his elbow with claws sharp like knives. His robes were now black and red, slightly tattered and still dirty. He had hooves now and likely a mouth full of sharp teeth.

He was beautiful.

He was alive.

"Adam?"

Adam jumped at the sound of his name and turned to face the devil. "Lucifer." His voice sounded rough but the same. His golden eyes were firey with anger, Lucifer could just imagine how he felt about being a sinner.

"You're here?"

"I know, the fucking shocked too."

Even if he hated him, Lucifer could deal with that as long as Adam was alive and well. "Gonna give redemption a shot?"

"Might as well." Adam crossed his arms, an unimpressed look on his face.

"Swell! Let me give you the tour and get you settled into a room." Lucifer took Adam by the hand and led the way, all while the sinner followed him, grumpy and cursing under his breath. "You know, if you ever need protection down here. I'd be willing to provide it."

Adam scoffed. "Yeah, for my soul."

Lucifer looked back at him. "Would that really be so bad? To be completely safe, always?" His voice echoed around them. "I would never let anything happen to you, Adam."

He didn't miss the way Adam's face pinched pink at his words.

Maybe second chances do happen.

[bloodsworn-marshal]

Writing Prompt: Stamp Word Count: 930 (Bandit AU) ---> masterlist

All throughout this young man’s life… all had gone according to plan.

Sure, his humble beginnings were not so great. By no fault of his own.

Sure, he’d ended up behind gaol bars once or twice… but twas always with the expectation that one would easily escape within a day or two’s worth. Sometimes less.

Those times where he happened to be thwarted by authorities? They were rough gambles anyways with naught to be lost should those attempts fail.

Ultimately, Bandit Leader Pipin Tarupin never suffered a setback worth losing sleep over. Not until… a series of unfortunate events. Piling on top of each other, one after the other. As if karma had finally come knocking after all these years of delinquency and having his way.

It came in the form of a risky endeavor. One where Pipin went way over the line in his plan of distraction and kidnapping. His bandits would handle the brunt of it all in the background while he would put on a grand display to distract the likes of all Immortal Flames during Ul’dah’s Little Ladies Day event. Security was lax for but a moment and before anyone realized… that Sultana herself had slipped into his hands. Taken for a ride around the city as his hostage as his greatest taunt yet.

The move succeeded of course. Pipin caught the attention of all eyes for a split moment. Dancing atop rooftops with Her Grace until the flame general came barreling after him and causing an ungodly ruckus. He made a mockery of the Flames that day and escaped easily without a slip in his steps. Of course the Sultana had been rescued… but she was never the true aim to begin with.

…Thus were the beginning of his headaches.

For what did his bandits do but kidnap the wrong person and brought them back to their hideout no less?

Mistake number one was trusting in others to do the dirty work right. Mistake number two was underestimating the kidnapped lass and receiving a proper kick between the groins when he intimidated her on meeting.

It didn’t stop there either. The worst was yet to come. Just when things were looking up in fact.

After humiliating the Flame General for many years and the worst mockery of all in his latest endeavor, the monetarists had decidedly tried to put the man down in the form of an ‘accident’. Someone needed taking all the blame for Pipin’s actions and it was high time the man finally paid for his failures. Stabbed in the back and left for the desert vultures as his lifeblood bled out.

He would survive however. Rescued by moogles in exchange for an unknown debt he had yet to know of in truth. His life given a second chance… as Pipin offered a hand to welcome him into his fold. To leave all and everything behind as he started anew. And mayhap forge a strange bond as a way of Pipin making amends for causing the man so much trouble.

They shook on it. He had been the first to offer his hand even.

That was mistake number three.

“Waaaa!!!! Oh no! I forgot!!” One of the moogles present cried out, wiggling in dismay and floating up into the air some. “The warning about the mark!!”

“…It spreads, kupo.” Answered another, gesturing at the duo’s hands. “The debt owed as well.”

All hell broke loose.

Upon the moogle’s words, Pipin’s grip stiffened. And with a sudden sense of uneasiness, he slowly raised up the palm of the hand that just shook with the former general’s hand. What was once clear flesh now marked black with a paw print of sorts. Stamped and marked in what may as well have been permanent, binding ink.

Silence hung in the air… and before the man could so much as react, the bandit leader was upon the other. Hands grasping each of his shoulders and shaking repeatedly.  “Did you curse me!? Eh!? Is that what all this is about!?”

In Pipin’s mind, he had been fooled. By General Zura, by the moogles, by everyone in an instant. Had for a last laugh at his expense after a rough few days.

“Agh--!!! No! What? No!!! You offered to shake MY hand, remember?! I didn't know this was going to happen! I don't even know what that debt is!!!"

“What do you mean you don’t know!?”

…Twas ignorance then. Plain and simple. And Pipin knew then exactly where to redirect his building anger as he was losing his absolute mind.

“Dinner.” He hissed, hands having snaked away and found themselves wrapped precariously around the moogle at fault. Grasping firmly and tugging at its fur. “Either you get your facts straight or you’re tonight’s supper.”

Zura had joined Pipin at his side, arms crossed and looming over the moogle just as leerily. At this rare juncture of time, they were both of same mind. “And I’m not about to stop him. Better start talking, kupo.”

The moogle trembled and shrieked a deft, “DON’T EAT ME!!!!!”

Humiliation on top of humiliation. For now the bandit leader had been dragged into an oath and a debt he knew not how to pay because the blasted creature couldn’t remember for the life of itself how to do so. Thus would the mark remain on his hand, threatening to spread to any other unsuspecting person he might accidentally touch.

And with plenty more humiliations to endure in the future. The price he had to pay for that day… was it truly worth it?

[traincat]

hello!! i reaally wanted to write a fic centered around johnny and mayhaps the rest of the f4, but i haven't read many of their comics yet and i don't wanna accidentally make them too ooc. can you gimme some tips on characterization please???

also hey, here's the anon who asked u about f4 characterization. which comics would you recommend in terms of best characterization??

Hey anon, sorry for the wait! So honestly I've been thinking a lot about characterization and I think this is a general rule but also it goes especially for comic characters who have been written by so many people over the years -- there's never going to be one branch of "in character." Everything is filtered through every writer's experiences at all times. So I think an important thing is to look at your characterization and ask yourself whether it feels right and real to you. Ultimately, you're the one who has to be happy with it.

I also think the way "in character" is treated sometimes in fandom isn't necessarily helpful. As an example: say it's common practice in Made Up Fandom to say Character A never cries. If you have him cry in fic it's out of character, says snide tweet 2024 to eight billion likes. And like, sure, maybe Character A cries a lot in some fic and not so much in canon, but the thing is everyone cries. It's not particularly useful from a characterization standpoint to say "Character A never cries." It's more helpful to go, "In what situation do I think Character A would cry? What would push him to tears? Does he cry when he's happy, sad, angry?" When I wrote Work Song, I needed a scene where Peter broke down and revealed everything, which was a problem because he's not Mr. Let Other People Help. So I took the time to push him into a corner where I felt it was organic that the character would share his problems. It's easy to go "X is out of character" but not constructive. It stretches your muscles more to try and figure out how to get X to a point where what you want to happen is in character. Go with your instincts; they're usually pretty good and they're something that will only get better the more you use them.

Also, and your mileage may vary on this one, but what's useful for me is to kind of look at characterization as excavation -- you're digging up something, uncovering it piece by piece. You can see the ground layer but now you've got to break through underneath it. For characters who have been in hundreds of issues like Johnny, I like to hit up really weird little single issues or lesser known series. There's this one issue that's formatted as one of those Wizard Magazine interviews where Johnny lists his three favorite movies as two installments of a Simon Williams action piece that would be equivalent to the MCU-style movies and also Titanic, and that one has always stuck with me as a really fun detail. Or there's a Marvel Knights 4 issue where every other word out of Johnny's mouth is a reference to a horror movie.

(Marvel Knights 4 #26) Thanks Johnny. Another Johnny thing I really like to keep in mind is that what's going on underneath and what's going on on the surface are not necessarily the same thing. Johnny can come off selfish, entitled, immature, or uncaring, but there's a deep volcano of compassion inside there. He's a very emotional character, which is something that's always fun to write.

I also find repetition really helpful when I'm trying to get the basics of a character down, which, again, might not be helpful for anyone else. Or it might only be useful for certain characters -- it's a lot easier to reread twenty issues than two thousand. I love my reference folder because a lot of times I'll remember some line or little canon thing and want to look it up and read it again. If you don't like saving panels from comics, just writing down what issue something is in is helpful, too. But that's just what works for me.

For Johnny specific comics, I have a bunch of Fantastic Four comics recs here (note that the "current run" I advise against in this post is Slott's run and not North's) and here! I hope you find some comics that you love and that you write the Johnny fic of your dreams!

[themotherofhorses]

you are the moon, i am the sun (i will not allow you to forget)

summary: when the battle is done, and you think you have won- don't dance on my grave just yet.

notes: just a small drabble that graced my mind earlier and made me go absolutely insane. lets call it a "what if" but with a twist.

masterlist

When Aemond One Eye took command of the Greens from his older, wastrel king brother and retook Harrenhal, he decided on a war trophy of his own, to take home in celebration and remembrance. She had to have been close to his age, mayhap a year younger, as she peered up at him with the loveliest lilac eyes.

A Targaryen bastard, he grinned, as he stared down at the girl huddled amongst the other ladies, clutching tightly the arm of another woman, an older wench with dark hair and green eyes.

The daughter of his nuncle, maybe. She had the same silver crown that tumbled around her shoulders and arms and a cute pout on her lips, though she was quick to tuck her face into the wench’s neck, shying away from the stare. The older woman mumbled something in her ear that Aemond could not hear. He did not care, though. “Have all the Strong men been rounded up in the courtyard?” he asked a nearby knight, who nodded.

“Good. Kill them all.”

And Aemond ignored the women that wept to that, and their many pleas and mercies for their husbands and sons. He stayed eyeing the pretty silver bastard, not minding the glare he was receiving from the woman next to her. He could have her head bashed against the wall if need be. “Who is your father?” He asked the girl. But she did not answer, and the wench stiffened and tightened her hold.

“You’re a bastard; that much is for sure.” He tilted his head. “I’ll ask yet again, who is your father?” he paused before adding, “Daemon Targaryen, my uncle? The gods and everyone else know he fucked every whore found across the realm.”

And when again she did not care to answer him, his patience grew short, and he caught her by the arm, yanking her up from the wench. They both cried out, and the dark-haired woman made an attempt to steal her back, though it was in utter vain, as she was pushed back down with a blade at her throat. Aemond laughed, and brought the girl close to his side.  

“I will not harm you, so let that ease any worries. I plan on taking back home a trophy, so I might remember this day well.” He looked down at her, at her cheekbones and lips and the curve of her nose and the black gown she wore, “-and you’ll make the prettiest one.”

It was decided, then. Aemond would spare this silver bastard’s life, and take her as his wife and bedmate instead. And before he left the room, he glanced down at the dark-haired wench, the woman who glared at him with such fire in her green eyes. “What is your name, woman?”  

“Alys Rivers,” she spit.

“Ah,” Aemond chuckled, “A bastard as well. You look like a Strong too. Perhaps I’m right?” She did not answer him either, and he took her silence as that he was right in that. He nodded, a small hum under his breath. “Let it be known that I carry no love for any of your ilk, trueborn or bastard.” With one last look thrown at the Strong bastard wench, he told the knight, “None of Strong blood is to be spared. I will be back, to make sure they are all dead and buried.”

So with a smile on his lips, and feeling quite content and proud of himself, Aemond One Eye threw his new woman over his shoulder and left Harrenhal. He would take her back to the Keep and wed her there, and not allow her out of his chambers until he was sure his son was seeded deep in her belly. Then he would return, to determine what would be next for Harrenhal.

As he carried his woman away, she lifted her head to meet Alys Rivers’ green eyes, perhaps for the final time.

I love you, she mouthed, with fat tears falling down her cheeks. I’m sorry.

I love you.

I love you.

But the rivers woman shook her head, and refused to say any sort of goodbye. Instead she smiled, and blew to her a small kiss.

There was no need for a goodbye, she told herself, as she watched the two leave, and the castle doors shut behind them. She would find her, and bring her home, but not before killing this Targaryen prince for daring to steal away her wife.

[starswornoaths]

Steer

Serella wants to set sail. Her father doesn't have it in his heart to keep her focus ashore forever.

word count: 1,002

To hear her father tell it, Serella was born a Captain.

When her Da scooped her off the ground and set her in front of the wheel, her hands sought spokes they couldn’t yet wrap around like it was second nature. Her little arms made proper handling impossible but that was fine; their little mockup was attached to the playground built outside the Carpenter’s Guild, and wasn’t going anywhere anyroad. 

“Captain! What course are we to set?” her Da asked her.

“We sail for…adventure!” she decreed, pointing ahead of them.

“Course has been set! For adventure!” he declared, matching her enthusiasm and pointing in the same direction.

Even with no resistance but the simple cogwork of the wheel, it was hard for a child of three summers to twist and turn but that did not deter Serella, face scrunched in consternation and focused on imaginary waters with her whole being.

In her mind’s eye, the tide whorled around their grand galley, lapping at sides port and starboard alike. Storms blew all around, ignorant of the sun warming their backs in truth.

When she tried to turn the wheel to fight a particularly strong wave to the port side, Serella struggled against the wood, hearing the sanded off wooden gears protest the movement. “Hard to steer,” she huffed.

“The waters are choppy this night,” her Da said sagely when he saw her struggle. 

If she could stretch her arms out to even the next spokes over she might have enough leverage, but she’s so small… 

Despite her best efforts to cling to the imaginary and continue with play, all her dreams of sailing involved a boat her size, something she could reach and use and lead and, and, and—

“No, hard to steer.” she huffed again, letting go of the spokes and crossing her arms.

Frustration welled up in her and quickly overflowed her small frame, heating her face and threatening her eyes with the sting of tears. Embarrassed, she hid her face in her hands.

“Hey now, Little Acorn, what’s the long face for?” her Da said, immediately dropping their play titles.

How could she start to explain what was hurting her heart? Why did she not understand what she was feeling? Frustration mounted ever higher, and tears ran down her face.

“I’m too little!” she cried.

Serella’s had never known her Da to be a man possessed of alacrity—an injury from before she was born had given him a cane and a limp that she had always seen him with, and it took him a few moments to carefully ease himself down to her level.

“You’re a growing little acorn, love,” he reminded her, and when she opened her arms asking for comfort he wasted no time in scooping her into a big hug. “Every tree started out just like you, remember?”

Through sniffles and uncaring of the snot she wiped on his shirt, Serella nodded.

“You’re only little for a little while, you know,” he said, his voice growing strangely thick as she tried to get her tears to stop. “And ‘afore you know it, you’ll be taller than me!”

“Taller than you?!” she squeaked, pulling back enough to look up at him incredulously.

“Taller than me!” he confirmed with an affectionate rub of their noses together that never failed to send her into a fit of giggles. “But it takes time—plenty of time for you to learn how to be taller. Can’t have you wobbling around like you’ve got stilts for legs, now can we?”

“But I can’t steer now,” she whined.

“Mayhap you can’t steer that way, but there’s plenty of ways to steer all sorts of things—here, I’ll show you. It’s getting late anyroad, and your Ma will send a search party if we’re gone too long, eh?”

With a conspiratorial wink that got his daughter to giggle again and follow him back to their chocobo, content and grazing not far from the Carpenter’s Guild fence.

A pirate is always carries a bit of the sea with them, so it was only natural that her Da hoist her and himself onto the back of their chocobo.

Once they were situated in the saddle, her Da pointed toward the leather reigns and said, “See? Riders use this to steer their chocobo—and that’s how you’re going to get us home in time for supper.”

“Me?!” Serella squeaked. 

“That’s right! You’re a natural at steering, Ellie—you just have to practice. Like so,” he said as he began to reach for the reigns.

It took little and less encouragement and instruction before she had her hands where they needed to be.

“Good. Now, there’s more ways to guide a steed than even this—like I told you, lots of ways to steer. Watch, I’ll have her start moving for you.”

With a click of his tongue and nudge of his boot, Addie began to dutifully meander out of Gridania proper and back onto the Shroud. The sway of the bird’s massive body almost felt like what Serella imagined a ship felt like, all that rocking back and forth like her Da would tell her.

Under her Da’s tutelage, she carefully led Addie until they were out of the gate and down the walking path.

The reigns felt vastly different from the ship wheel and yet, it felt like she was beginning to understand how this was also meant to steer—the pull of the leather on either side to turn, both to stop, and a nudge to go faster. Sails and rudders, wheels and anchors. Anything could be a ship if she wanted to guide it, anything could steer that ship if she could make it listen to her.

When they were far enough away from civilization, her Da leaned down from behind her and whispered, “you know, the winds are fair this eve, Captain. What say you we open the sails and ride the wind home?”

Years later, Serella would remember looking up into his eyes in that moment, twinkling like stars guiding their ship home.

[pretty-little-martyr]

for some reason am remembering the episode from the 2003 show Dead Like Me that featured 2003's best case scenario at having cis people write a trans woman and how much I genuinely enjoyed that episode. the premise of the show for anyone not familiar (which is probably everyone) was that Grim Reapers were real, were the recently deceased who were randomly picked for the job, and had to individually collect people once they died and pass them on to whatever personal heaven they'd envisioned. the Reapers often aren't given much info about who is going to die and therefore have to talk to people around them to learn the name of the to-be-deceased. and that episode takes place in the lobby of a plastic surgeons office where there's a bunch of ladies and One Dude (character is actually a trans woman, but played by a cis man because. y'know. 2003 American cable television.). she's there to get all of the surgeries done at once (not how that works .... again, 2003 cis writers) to finally "transform into the woman she was always meant to be" [paraphrased] and it always really stuck with me because 1) the actors performance was so .. genuine. she was excited to be there because she had waited her whole life to do this. and she wasn't very young either. 30 or 40 perhaps. an extremely convincing and earnest performance from a presumably cis man. 2) the show handled her with genuine grace. it wasn't funny that she was in there, it was funny that our main character George (cis girl who goes by that name, very interesting from a trans angle as well) was like "why's a dude in here" before learning that the character was not a man just "looked like one." 3) it treated her subsequent death as a genuine tragedy. the thing is with each of the humans we get introduced to we know they're gonna die. and for the most part the deaths are silly and bizarre—one dude slips on a banana peel and gets his neck broken by a revolving door, one person drowns to death under a water cooler, etc—but this one wasn't. I don't actually remember how she died because I can't find the goddamned show anywhere and you can't buy it, either, it got canned after 2 seasons anyway, but I remember George being genuinely heartbroken that the trans woman didn't get to live the life she wanted to. and it's of course all quite clumsy and inept because it's 2003 and they clearly either didn't have a trans person in the writing room or one of the writers mayhap didn't know they're trans yet, I have no idea, but in light of how many frankly disgusting portrayals of trans people and trans women in particular I saw on TV growing up that one has always stuck with me for the tender and serious way the subject was handled.

there's probably an entire essay to be had about both that whole episode and a transmasc reading of George. that show wasn't one that cracked my egg I don't think, because when I first saw it I was too young to parse the idea (I was somewhere between 10 and 13), but it was my first introduction to the idea of being trans. I rewatched it in 2019 when it was briefly on Amazon because my college email acct gave me free Prime Streaming and god the episode hit me like a truck. I'm pretty sure I cried. I want to watch it again and really dissect it because its lack of mockery in a time when it was very much in vogue to mock trans women fascinates me.

im also pretty sure I remember that after the woman passed, the other Reapers misgender her casually because again, 2003, they're acting like she wasn't a woman yet, but I think George notably doesn't. I may be misremembering though. I do remember George being deeply, deeply upset by the unfairness of her death though.

[definitelynotshouting]

grian pains me why is he such an angst child (rhetorical but needed to be said nonetheless)

i do have a query, punctuation ranking list mayhaps? em dashes?/lh

im glad our love for the fic and universe helps motivate you, remember to take care of yourself!! us avid readers will wait

He rlly is squeaky-toy coded isnt he [said as i am gripping him and throwing him repeatedly against the wall for my own amusement]

AKSNWKSNSM CALLED OUT MERCILESSLY FOR MY LOVE OF EM DASHES.... THIS IS SUCH A CRUEL WORLD /SILLY

Unfortunately youve activated my editorial trap card bc while i dont know if i can rank punctuation since they all have such specific uses that make them each invaluable i do have an internal system of prioritization for how and when i use them that sorta.. denotes how well they might make a sentence POP

For example: em dashes, semicolons, periods, and commas are my staples. My general rules of use for em dashes and semicolons specifically is that i TRY not to use them in the same sentence more than once or twice per chapter/story, and i try to alternate between them where i can to keep things varied and interesting, depending on whats being written. Both are very good for asides and building on top of the previous sentence!!! Semicolons, however, get SPICY if used for a list >:] and that can be REALLY useful for me if i want to hit hard and fast with a series of particular images!!!

Colons are smth i try to use more sparingly and deliberately, but are REALLY fun bc almost every time i use them its like code for my brain to go "oh so we're going absolutely batshit ham on this next line, got it" skdbwjdkwkdkd. Sometimes that looks like me going crazy with imagery, and sometimes thats just me dropping something i find structurally simple yet achingly poignant. Either way its meant to be a gut punch >:]

Ellipses are something i generally don't use much outside of dialogue with some exceptions (listen if it fits the narration then it fits) but my gods they are SO MUCH FUN within dialogue..... guys when they trail off like irl people do all the time...... tbh the em dash and ellipsis are my bestest friends when it comes to dialogue bc i am so damn obsessed with writing people who sound like people. Thank u tma for upgrading my dialogue significantly<3 podcast fandoms are REALLY good for that to the surprise of absolutely nobody

Exclamation and question marks are very fun to put a lil flavour into your prose too but i also try to use them sparingly outside of dialogue-- i personally feel that if used too much in the prose itself it can read as either a bit childish or like its very blatantly trying to lead you around by the nose. But my gods starting off a story with a question??? That shit ROCKS i love doing it and reading it, its a banger every time. By and large i think my favorite opener to a story ive written so far has to be "What is the definition of a haunting?" from my dsmp fic when the night cries. Good shit your honor good shit

Anyway yeah i dont have much of a tierlist per se but those are my general thoughts on how i personally use punctuation :]

[judasofsuburbia]

emilyyyyyy!!!! idk if you’re still taking these but would LOVE a 🔀 ronance? mayhaps?

THE GASP I LET OUT GETTING THIS SONG!!! NANCY SONG OF ALL TIME!!!!!

Well, can you see me? I cannot see you Everything I thought I knew has fallen out of view In this blindness I'm condemned to

so what if after the events of s4, nancy's parents don't believe their kids. they send nancy and mike to a mental health facility (an asylum, really, but its nicer to frame it the other way). robin goes to live with her very religious grandmother who takes her to church (bc her parents never did) and robin finds some kind of peace in throwing her nightmares, all her trauma at this all knowing power. gets really into it all. loses herself in her newfound hope.

years later, after mike and nancy have been separated at the facility in order to discourage feeding off each other's delusions, robin comes to the facility with her church to help the guests and pray with them. nancy and robin are dumbstruck at the sight of each other. robin tries to remain professional, tries to ignore the way nancy is talking over her, talking about hawkins, vecna, upside down.

"what about the russians, robin?" nancy punches low with that one, she knows that, but it finally gets robin's attention.

"father, could i have a moment alone with nancy in the garden? i think one on one prayer would be better for her," robin suggests.

nancy has a crazy smile on her face.

they get far enough away from anyone else outside, sitting behind a pair of rose bushes.

"what is wrong with you?" robin barks.

"you remember. you remember everything," nancy babbles. "they think i'm crazy, robin. they don't believe me. but you were there! you saw it, you were a part of it, you know i'm telling the truth!"

robin's shaking as nancy grabs her hands, pleads with her watering eyes for robin to wake up from the deep sleep she's put herself in the last few years.

"robin, please, you have to help me," nancy cries. robin realizes she's crying too. robin's fate may have been better than nancy's but she still got sent away. she still got called crazy. she still had to shove everything down, way down.

over the next few months, robin comes back to the facility under the guise of helping nancy but really, they're scheming to take hawkins lab down once and for all. over that time, robin can feel herself falling for nancy but she doesn't know if it's a response to finally being heard. she doesn't know if it's real.

when robin kisses her one night, away from the cameras, away from the onlookers, only the two of them, she knows it's real.

she knows nancy is real, her feelings are real, everything they experienced is real, when nancy kisses her back with just as much force.

send me a 🔀 and a pairing, and i’ll shuffle my playlist and make an au based on the first song that comes up

(also please watch @fastcardotmp3's nancy wheeler cassandra video edit bc it rotates in my brain 25/8)

[pumpkinmagekupo]

Flickering light

Vauquelin sighed. “You know the Starlight ball is tonight. I assume you will be attending. Why don’t you bring Mizuki along?  A lot of her classmates will be there too. Mayhap it will help her open up a little.”

-

She glanced up at the clock. “We’re going to be late.” she huffed. “The uniform classes as formal wear. I suppose it will do. Come along.” Mizuki silently followed behind her. “And remember your manners,” Camélia reminded her sharply as they approached the hall. 

“Yes, Master Camélia.”

“Are your apprentices not here?” A tall bald Roegadyn wearing small circular glasses asked, glancing  around “I was hoping to meet them.” He looked down and noticed Mizuki.  “Oh, is this one of them?” he asked, trying to offer her a welcoming smile. Mizuki flinched at his overwhelming stature. 

Camélia looked down at her, waiting for her to speak. “Rammbroes, this is Mizuki, one of my other apprentices,” she introduced her, obviously still angry.  Mizuki offered a bow but said nothing. After an awkward pause, “Mizuki, why don’t you go talk to your classmates?” Camélia suggested impatiently.

Mizuki gave an obedient nod. “Yes, Master Camélia.” She took a few steps, waiting for Camélia to turn around, then made a beeline to the corner nearest the door. She looked out at the lively ball before her. The students were wearing nice party dresses and fancy suits; some even seemed to sparkle like the stars. Mizuki looked down at her uniform and her shoulders drooped. Why did I have to come?

Social interaction had never been her strong suit. With her tribe, it was simply follow orders and don’t ask questions. In Dravania she only really interacted with Camélia and Y’shtola when she had the chance to see her. And since she had made no friends in her class, her only solace was studying. She spotted a few people from her class but they were talking with people she didn’t know. She felt so out of place.

She realised she still had her small notebook in her pocket and pulled it out. At least she would have something to keep her entertained. She flipped through her notes, glancing up every now and then.

. She paid attention to the speech from one of the professors, Galuf Baldesion, a name she heard floating around from time to time, but  then returned to her notes. Some bells later, people started to leave and Mizuki hurried to the door to await Camélia. Eventually she walked by her in conversation with a colleague: Omagu Maito, a well known scholar. Mizuki simply followed silently behind. Camélia often got absorbed in anything to do with her work.

“Your apprentices are thriving,” Omagu Maito was saying.

Camélia nodded. “I have high hopes for them. They will become fine sages.” 

Mizuki’s heart plummeted like a rock. She's not proud of me at all..

Once Omagu Maito went his own way, the pair walked in silence, Mizuki trailing behind her master.  Miah welcomed them back and only then Camélia looked back sharply. “Thaliak preserve me! You haven’t spoken a word this entire time?”

Mizuki tensed, shuffling back towards the door. “I- no, Master Camélia...I didn’t know what to say-”

“We need to work on your social skills. I hope you made some friends tonight.” Camélia glowered over her half-moon shaped spectacles when no response came. “You didn’t even try to make friends? Are you trying to embarrass me? Madeleine and Capucine don’t have this sort of problem.”

“No, Master Camélia. I’m sorry, Master Camélia.”

“Go to your room. We shall speak in the morning.”

“Yes, Master Camélia.” Mizuki bowed and hurried off to her room, where she lay on her bed and cried silently until she fell asleep.. She just didn’t know what to talk to people about. She would have to study harder to make up for her poor social skills and maybe then Camélia would be a little proud of her. 

Big snippet from Fragments of Memories: chapter 2

[writingsofwesteros]

Yeah, I can't remember the au name either lol 😅😆 I think it was something to do with shield or protector or something, but three is a charm is cool and easy to remember, now I'm thinking about a recap and refresher.

I love the thought so much, though. I've been thinking about that au more. Viserys marrying both Alicent and Laena to appeal to both Otto and Corlys + Rhaenys. Laena isn't aged down a lot like in the show (for some reason lmao) she's still the same age as Alicent and Rhaenyra and she is still the elder sibling to Laenor (another useless change in the show. In the book Laena was literally nicknamed "the boy in the belly" while Rhaenys was pregnant with her during the great council meeting that they passed both her and Laena over in favor of Viserys for. These writers, man 💀)

Viserys still bedding them for his pleasure and ignoring their obvious uneasiness like those show scenes with Ali (cries), but they drink moon tea because they do not like him nor want to carry his seed. They put up with him to please their parents and the Realms, and Laena also agreed to the match with the thought of secretly claiming her birthright and her mothers in the only way she can, by marrying the man that was chosen over them.

Daemon being Daemon and wanting everything Viserys has because he has second son syndrome. Him being Laenas sworn shield while Criston is still Alicents, even though alicole doesn't happen in this au.

Daemon, knowing they don't want to bear his brothers seed, and volunteering to father their children is so delicious. Alicent is scandalized at first, but Laena is intrigued.

Viserys and the lords and ladies of court being none the wiser to the fact that Daemon is the true father of their children. Both the girls probably love having their children then, and probably have more than canon, because they know that while Viserys is in fact doing what they feared and ignoring them all in his favoritism for Rhaenyra (the last piece of Aemma he has left in this world) and acting with them as he does in the show. But they know that in private, Daemon gives them all the cherished fatherly love they need, and in public he just seems like that overbearing protective uncle, as he used to be for Rhaenyra. Nobody bats an eye. Glad the Rogue Prince has seemingly grown content in the capital and behaving... mostly...

Except for Otto, Gwayne, Corlys, Rhaenys, and Laenor. They know the girls too well. They watch their eyes follow Daemon more than normal for sisters-in-law. They see how the children, though they call him uncle, always run to Daemon for everything they should go to Viserys for.

Criston being Rhaenyras secret baby daddy instead of Harwin in this au, him and Rhaenyra and Laenor being the lavender poly couple instead, and him not being cruel to the boys as they are actually his, Mayhaps him and Laenor even have a drunken tryst once or twice, hehe 🤪

Mayhaps him and Laenor even have a drunken tryst once or twice, hehe

Criston will pretend nothing of the sort happened ;)

Alicent and Laena enjoying each others company as they walk through the royal gardens. Many had suspected the wives would fall into jealous but oh, how wrong they were

[bloomingscales]

𝓢𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭'𝓼 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼

“Remember.” “Remember us.” “Remember that we once lived.” Those were his last words as his shimmering aether dispersed, his crooked yet sincere smile the last image as the underworld claims its king. An old soul taking up his throne. It’s right then, in the moment that his very essence vanishes, that I feel my knees give out. My breath feels ragged as I stare at the violet crystal, now blurred by tears, with hand clasped over my mouth to hold back sobs. Every ilm of my body was screaming for my enemy—an Ascian, at that. What is this? This ache that gnaws at my chest? True, I had grown fond of Emet-Selch. Maybe more than I would readily admit to my fellow Scions. But this? This was coming from something deep within. In seconds, I feel my friends gather around me and fret. I need to pull myself together—to send them off so I can let this pain run its course. “I am okay,” a lie as my hand moves from my mouth. “Just…overwhelmed. I’ll meet you at the Crystarium, so please,” can they see the desperation in my eyes? “Go on ahead of me. I need some time to..” To what? “Breathe.” I’m not fooling anyone with the breaks in my voice, but my plea does not fall on deaf ears. I can see the concern, the hint of confusion, and even some understanding in Thancred’s eyes. Mayhap this is what he felt when Minfillia departed. I look to Y’Shtola’s to see her eyebrows furrowed, then Urianger and he nods. He soon ushers the twins from my sides, though they protest with each step, and they leave me to process what has bubbled up from inside. And now, alone, the dam bursts and I wail, body heaving forward as I hug myself and press my forehead to the floor. It’s excruciating. Unbearable. But the waves keep crashing down, pulling me deeper into a sea of anguish. I feel like I’m drowning and gasp for air, clawing my chest. Something deep within roars with millennia of grief. Millennia I have no recollection of. Millennia etched into my soul now eight times rejoined. Are these tears even mine? They were and yet they weren’t. They tickle my skin as they roll down my nose and drip onto the crystal surface, hot trails left cold in their wake. Yes, I had come to care for him but this— This feels like the cries of someone mourning their soulmate. Someone who loved so intensely, so fiercely, that it was woven into the very fabric of their soul. My soul. A love carried throughout every life. Love so deep that it seeps into every crevice. And then it dawns on me. Azem. It is Azem who weeps. Her tears are endless, leaving me with nothing to do but ride the waves of insurmountable sorrow. I don’t know how many bells have passed by the time I wander into my Pendants’ room, energy dwindling. In my chest is a mix of emotions, festering in place of the light that had been purged from me. An empty, hollow feeling is most prominent, but under it is a seed of hope. A speck of relief. But beneath it all is an indescribably yearning for a man returned to the Star. My mind and body are tattered. It’s all I could do to make it to my bed and collapse onto the mess of blankets. The second my head hits the pillow, sleep takes me. I dream of a familiar stranger. Piercing yellow eyes, permanently furrowed brows, hair white and swept back from his stern face. His eyes land on me and the sternness seems to melt into relief, replaced by a slightly crooked yet sincere smile. His lips part to greet me. “Cressida.”

[clydestotallytubularlife]

Hey! when and how did you guys meet?

Clyde: hmm, when did Craig and I meet???

Clyde: well, I don’t know if I remember all that well EXACTLY what happened-

Craig: haha, I remember, you were crying becau-

Clyde: SHUT. Shut. Hush.

Craig: *snickering*

Clyde: ahem. So, if I remember correctly…

Clyde: So, I was walking out of school, right? And everything was normal. I was thinking about tacos, because they’re so awesome and cool-

Craig: get on with it.

Clyde:…anyways.

Clyde: So I was walking, and then I saw a crowd of people, right? So I walked up to them, saying “hey what’s going on?”

Clyde: And everyone was all like, “OH MY GOD ITS CLYDE, THE MOST HANDSOME BOY IN SCHOOL!!!” “I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, MARRY M-“

Craig: everyone laughed at you.

Clyde:…

Clyde: AAANYways.

Clyde: And they parted like Moses and the red seas, so I looked into the middle of the crowd and saw this!-

Clyde: I saw two people in a fight, probably over a girl smh-

Craig: just get to the point :/

Clyde: So they were fighting, yada yada, and suddenly the counselor comes out.

Craig: haha, “break it up, mkay?”

Clyde: *laughs*

Clyde: And everyone was like “oh no we’re busted!”

Clyde: And after that it was just a fucking stampede! Kids running away everywhere! It was chaos!

Craig: haha, yeah, and you toootally got tramp-

Clyde: YES, yes, I may have gotten…run over, by the other kids.

Craig: totally crushed.

Clyde: And then that’s when Craig walked over.

Clyde: He had gotten away from Mr. Mackey, and saw that I… just so happened to be on the ground.

Craig: You we’re in my way.

Clyde: I was in a walkway, yes.

Clyde: Then Craig was all like, “Omg, is that the famous Clyde Donovan?! He’s so cool and handsome and awesome!”

Craig: no I wasn’t-

Clyde: And then he looked me in the eyes and said, “Are you okay, great and powerful Clyde?”

Craig: no,-

Clyde: then he reached his hand OU to me and helped me up, and I stood there, majestically, hair blowing in the wind, and I said, “Yes, I’m always okay.”

Craig: you cried.

Clyde: I did not!

Craig: sobbed.

Clyde: Nuh uh!

Craig: Like a baby.

Craig: You just hugged me and cried on my shoulder.

Clyde:…perchance.

Craig: you did.

Clyde: Mayhaps.

Clyde: AAANYWAYS!

Clyde: He was all like, “I’m Craig, you seem so cool”

Clyde: I was like, “Yeah, I tend to be pretty rad.”

Clyde: And we’ve just hung out ever since! He saw my awesomeness and rippling abs and wanted to join my life, and I said, “I guess I could spare a side character spot for this measly being.”

Craig: you begged me to let you hang out with me because you were lone-

Clyde: AAAND THATS IT! That’s the story of how we met!

Clyde: feel free to ask more questions!

[askchuckandtiff]

DOUBLE INTERVIEW!!

PERFECT IF YOURS IS A MULTIMUSE BLOG! PLEASE, DON'T REBLOG! REPOST INSTEAD, REPLACING OLD INFORMATION WITH YOUR MUSES'.

You only gotta pick two tho!!

SHALL WE BEGIN?

Chucky: Sure I guess

Tiffany: Sure!

WHAT'S YOUR NAME?

Chucky: Charles Lee Ray, but you can call me Chucky

Tiffany: Tiffany Valentine Ray!!

FAVORITE ANIMAL:

Chucky: Snakes are pretty cool

Tiffany: Tarantulas are definitely my favorite!

FAVORITE COLOR:

Chucky: I'm too indecisive to pick just one so it's gotta be either red or yellow

Tiffany: I absolutely love purple

WHO DO YOU LOOK UP TO?

Chucky: no in particular, except myself heh

Tiffany: Martha Stewart of course!! She's my idol

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF EACH OTHER?

Chucky: Tiff's okay I guesss (jokingly)

Tiffany: You're not too bad yourself, asshole (also jokingly)

WHAT DO YOU ADMIRE ABOUT THE OTHER?

Chucky: I gotta say how stubborn tiff can be is quite impressive

Tiffany: I personally like how no matter the situation, you always have some smart ass thing to say

Chucky: Me too, it's my favorite thing about me, heh

HAVE YOU EVER DRANK UNTIL YOU FELT SICK?

Chucky: Yep, it was most likely to get outta work

Tiffany: yeahhhh,, and it's for the same reason as Chucky (nervous laugh)

YOU LIKE YOURSELF? BE HONEST.

Chucky: hm.. for like,, 99.999% of the time,, yeah I'm pretty fucking great if I say so myself. That 1% of the time… not so much

Tiffany: Damn sweetface that's.. that's rough, anyways I love myself

Chucky: pfffft blatant much?

FAVORITE FOOD:

Chucky: Swedish meatballs, of course!

Tiffany: I personally love raviolis,, they're definitely a guilty pleasure of mine

COFFEE OR TEA?

Chucky: Gotta go with coffee on this one, it's kept me awake all of those times that I probably shouldn't have been

Tiffany: I'm much more of a tea type of girl. However,, coffee is easier to disguise liquor in soo…

Chucky: that's actually really smart

Tiffany: right??

FAVORITE CARTOON:

Chucky: I love all of the classics, but the cartoon came out based on uh,, fucking Beetlejuice! Yeah, that felt like the best fever dream ever

Tiffany: oh I remember that show!! Yeah, I definitely gotta agree with you on that one

LAST TIME YOU CRIED:

Chucky: Probably when I was blackout drunk and ran into a wall so fast that I smacked into it

Tiffany: pffft

Chucky: oh hush you

Tiffany: No, and the last time I cried? I don't really remember honestly. Unless laugh-crying counts, then that was me the other night at Chucky running into the wall

PIZZA OR SUSHI?

Chucky: Pizza for sure, can't stand fish in the slightest

Tiffany: Honestly? I like sushi a lot more. It's bite sized! Plus, it comes with wasabi and shit

Chucky: mmm, I guess you've got a point, but I'll only eat California rolls

DO YOU REGRET SOMETHING?

Chucky: ..yes but that's for me to know and for you to find out

Tiffany: I don't think so? At least, I can't remember anything that I would regret?

HAVE YOU EVER WALKED ON HIGH HEELS?

Chucky: Yes and I fucking hate it

Tiffany: All the time!!

FAVORITE BODY PART:

Chucky: I love my hands, dunno why but I do

Tiffany: I like my eyes! They're just really pretty

LEAST FAVORITE BODY PART:

Chucky: Hate my eyes, they remind me of my dad..

Tiffany: my face.. you can thank my mother for makin me insecure about that

DRUGS?

Chucky: mayhaps

Tiffany: on special occasions

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO SAY TO YOUR FANS?

Chucky: Fuck you guys, lovingly of course

Tiffany: We love you sweetfaces!!!

- - -

I tag @fanficwriter284 and @asktherays!!

I hope you two haven't done this already!! And if you did then sorry for tagging y'all!!

[kohburgers]

mini post of songs that remind me of eric — 🫐 !

the smashing pumpkins (the gnashing blumpkins)

- pennies: the intro is just so him. nothing else 2 say

- bodies: i feel like this song can be connected to how i see my attachment to him and how he saw the people that failed (??) him in his life. “come into my life forever,” hits so hard for me cus i know that if i haven’t outgrown him by now, i prob never will. especially when so many others who’ve surpassed my age are stuck on him and the case in gen. i also feel like i’ll never be able to ‘escape’ him cus of his mark on the world and how he’ll continue to inspire so many others in that way.

- to forgive: holy fucking shit the first time i listened to this he was literally the only thought in my head. “ten times removed / i forget about where it all began,” “holding back the fool again / holding back the fool pretends.” this song is just the embodiment of what i imagine he felt near the end. never fails to make me cry like a little bitch

- farewell and goodnight: reminds me so much of his humanity, of how much he tried yet still felt like he could never get it right. “heart strung is your heart frayed and empty / cause it’s hard luck when no one understands your love / its unsung.”

- blew away: eric’s version of dylan’s beautiful (lol) “please don’t ever leave / and i will grieve, and remember thee / hope to meet you there.”

hole (so funny cus if he hated sp no way he felt any better abt hole or courtney love 😭)

- northern star: “and blackest night and i wait for you / it’s cold in here, there’s no one left / and i wait for you,”

“he’s so cold / he will ruin the world tonight,”

“ghosts that haunt you with their sorrow / i cried cause you were doomed.”

- honey: “and everything you ever said, now tears me all apart,”

“he goes down, down to his bitter end / he knows now, now you can’t touch him,”

“i hold onto you like the death of an angel / and i hold onto you with all the life that’s in me,”

“why was i not good enough to save you from destruction?”

- pacific coast highway: “go with your gun in my hands,”

“i knew a boy, he left me so damaged / do you even know the extent of what you ravaged?”

misc. (basically just single songs from bands that i can’t compile into their own category)

- under the milky way by the church: “wish i knew what you were looking for / might have known what you would find.”

- stuck on you by failure: this song is more for me and how i feel abt never being able 2 escape him.

“i claimed i didn’t care for you / but your verse got trapped inside my head, over and over again,”

“i thought i’d drop you easily / but that was not to be / you burrowed like a summer tick / so you invade my sleep and confuse my dreams / turn my nights to sleepless itch,”

“stuck on you til the end of time / i’m too tired to fight your rhyme / you’ve got me paralyzed,”

“even when i’m alone / i hear your mellow drone / you’re everywhere inside of me.”

and uhhh i have a whole playlist dedicated to him w a lot of other songs but these r just the main ones that scream Him and im too chickenshit to link my profile here cus im paranoid ✊😭 but mayhaps…. one day…. mayhaps….