#mirror axe knight

[veinsfullofstars]

“I. Am going. To kill that rat.” “What was that, Boss?” “I said, BACK TO YOUR POSTS NOW!” “Y-Y-Yes, sir, right away, sir!”

(ID: Kirby series fanart comic, four borderless panels featuring Dark Meta Knight, Mirror Axe Knight, and Mirror Mace Knight, in which the latter two comment on their leader’s interesting new battle scars, much to his restrained dismay. Transcript below the cut. END ID.)

Good thing his minions aren’t the brightest bulbs in the bunch - otherwise they’d’ve found out about all the friendly hugs he’s been getting in his off-time.

(… this isn’t too much, is it? Stars, I hope not. I tried to keep it vague enough that it doesn’t have to mean anything spicy. Maybe it was just a very competitive game of tag. Or maybe DMK couldn’t quite reach an itch between his wings and Daroach got a bit overenthusiastic trying to help. Basically anything that could ruin his “big scary cool toughguy” reputation. As long as DMK is too embarrassed to admit to it in front of his crew, they’re all viable options, haha.)

Started 12/25/23, finished 12/28/23, updated 01/04/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 01/04/24. | Kintsugi AU Masterpost

—

Transcript:

Panel 1

*DMK walking forward towards our left, M!Axe and M!Mace passing by in the opposite direction, M!Axe waves cheerily to DMK, who glances at them over his shoulder*

M!Axe: Oh, Boss, there you are! Hey, how was the fight? Didja win?

DMK: Hm? What’re you talking about?

Panel 2

*reverse shot of DMK, still glancing over his shoulder, several pink scratch lines can be seen on his back and the base of his wings, each in sets of three*

M!Mace: Got some new scratches on your back, Boss. Nasty ones, too, by the look of it.

M!Axe: (laughing, impressed) Ha! Musta been one heck of a scrap to leave marks like that! I’d hate to see what happened to the other guy, haha!

Panel 3

*front shot of DMK, his eyes shrunk to dots in realization, as a thought bubble hovers over his head - a simple headshot of Daroach, grinning roguishly beneath the shadow of his hat, showing off his claws as they glint sharply*

Panel 4

*front shot of DMK, sweating and glaring fixedly off to the side, eyes still shrunk, a vivid blush inside his visor, while M!Axe and M!Mace stand where they were before behind him, heads tilted in innocent confusion*

DMK: (strained) … … … Yes. … … A fight. … That’s what happened.

[lady-protector]

and that's a wrap on my tarot series! the upright majors, at least. there may be others sometime in the future if I am seized by a combination of insanity and hyperfixation once again.

you might notice a few cards are a bit (or in the case of the fool and alternate chariot, a lot) different! I did a few retakes for consistency/style.

below the read more I've included a bunch of notes about symbolism and reasoning behind my choices if that interests you!

(tag for individual card posts)

0. The Fool: Ardbert was really the only choice for this one. He's our stand-in, our shard, our mirror. Feo Ul is included partially because of lore (they are my co-WoL's shard on the First) and also because they also fit the themes of adventure and new beginnings and exploration. Most of the cards I played pretty loose on the posing vs traditional depictions, but this one I wanted to hew a little closer, which is why he's on a cliff with a foot hanging over the edge a bit, with his axe standing in for the bindle. This is my second attempt at the card -- the first was in Il Mheg, but I moved it to Kholusia (Ardbert's home) and dawn to more closely symbolize that it's the beginning of something. Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 8/10, posing Feo Ul was annoying.

1. The Magician: This card could have had several subjects, chief among them Alphinaud or a more modern G'raha, but I settled on Alisaie a) because the other two cards I had in mind for her (Chariot and Justice) were already taken, and b) the card's focus on physical magic and depicting the "tools of the trade" reminded me a lot of Angelo's creation! So that's why she's here, and why I set the card in Matoya's Relict, among the tools of magicians who came before (Matoya, Y'shtola). I retook the shot because I was unsatisfied with the blurriness/the way the light covered her face in the first one. Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 5/10, simple pose but working with Impact's spell effect complicated things.

2. The High Priestess: Another that I never questioned who would appear on it. Y'shtola's arc is entirely about uncovering forbidden, secret knowledge and wisdom, so she fits beautifully. The blue-white orb and the purple staff depict duality between dark and light, and how Y'shtola walks in two worlds, seeing things that are beyond sight, standing before an altar/holy place to the Night's Blessed. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 2/10. Premade pose, knew where I wanted to place her -- the only thing was finding a prop for her off hand.

3. The Empress: Hoo boy did Minfi give me some trouble. I knew that I wanted our Antecedent, who provides both authority and care for the Scions, to represent the Empress, but I struggled to find a depiction that wasn't, well, boring. Minfilia is deeply linked with the Solar, and I didn't want to lean too hard into Word of the Mother/Hydaelyn territory, so I settled on a triple goddess-like idea. Attempts: 3. Difficulty: 6/10. Not mechanically difficult, just conceptually.

4. The Emperor: Another one that I knew who I wanted but struggled with the concept. Haurchefant is very much emblematic of the stability, structure, and masculinity provided by the Emperor, but it wasn't until I decided to add his equally-Emperor-coded father that things settled into place. Together, Edmont and Haurchefant evoke the image of father and son as well as king and knight, filling both major male authority roles that the Emperor exemplifies. Attempts: 4. Difficulty: 6/10. Same as the Empress.

5. The Hierophant: this one was one of the hardest to choose a subject for -- the WoL's allies are largely a bunch of revolutionary firebrands, and I disagree HEAVILY with the popular choice of placing Aymeric here. So I landed on Alphinaud -- out of the Scions, he is the one most concerned with tradition and the "right" way to do things, with formal education and structure. He wants to bring Sharlayan into the modern day, not upend the institutions that raised him and that he very much still respects, much like how he still respects his very traditionally Hierophant-coded father. So I placed him in his family home with a sort of smug look since he can be a pretentious little shit sometimes (affectionate). The spell effect is from Kardia, and I paid special attention to having the shapes align perfectly with the lines in the background, to give a sense of stability and order to the shot, especially contrasted with Alisaie's more dynamic and chaotic depiction. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 4/10, entirely in alignment.

6. The Lovers: Hrasevelgr and Saint Shiva are a great choice for depicting the Lovers as two people, but no one does the Lovers in one subject better than Ysayle. Invoking the spirit of a woman who died for love in order to bring harmony to her people, but it truly being her own power and her own choice the whole time... it's great. Her pose is her transformation/summoning pose, turned into a gesture of affection, which I was particularly proud of. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 3/10, posing monsters is always a little funky.

7. The Chariot: This one has two options -- my co-WoL, Marz, and Tataru/Cid/Nero for the NPC variant. All 4 characters share a singular drive and refusal to let anything stop them once they've set their mind to something, and the 3 NPCs have the added benefit of being associated with a literal "chariot" in the form of airship design. Marz's place on Shadowkeeper has some lore associations (Cylva is her shard on the 13th) as well as being a void mirror to Kaede's sin eater shot. For both I wanted to have dynamic poses to evoke the activity of the card. Attempts: 1 (Marz), 2 (NPCs). Difficulty: 3/10 for both, no major hurdles once the lovely @/karoiseka pointed me at an airship in NG+.

8. Justice: The heart of the Justice card is its emphasis on truth, and no character in FFXIV is more committed to truth even in the face of great suffering than Aymeric de Borel. Because of this, the shot is taken at the top of the Vault, where he confronted his father over his concealment of the truth of the Dragonsong War. The card is usually depicted with a woman holding a sword and balanced scales -- Aymeric is holding his sword in a pose used in statues in the Pillars, and the symmetry of the shot/light and shadow split down the middle is meant to give the feeling of balance. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 1/10. I knew my concept, location, and shader before I even went in, and it came out exactly like I wanted.

9. The Hermit: Originally I had Urianger for this card, who still fits well, but when I moved him to Wheel of Fortune, there was a clear second choice: The Exarch. He even resembles the Hermit, with his cloak and staff, holding himself in isolation and possessing secret knowledge with which he guides the party. G'raha has grown out of this role as of Endwalker, but the Exarch fits it to a tee. I wanted to show his longing to return through his body language and reaching out for the portal that shows him the world he is set apart from. Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 4/10. Nothing major but did have to do two entirely separate cards lmao.

10. The Wheel of Fortune: The one I struggled with the most, conceptually. At first I had a more abstract choice, with the 3 starting city state leaders and Tataru, in a sort of "fate leads to the Scions" idea. But then I remembered that Urianger is a fortune teller who uses a wheel-like weapon with a literal wheel of cards, and, well. Yeah. The man is intimately associated with fate and choice, and the choice to place him on the moon is intentional, to separate him from his more secretive depictions in HW/ShB. He is the one who prepares our second option (flight) while giving us the choice to make our first (fight). Attempts: 2. Difficulty: 7/10. He's up on a high ledge that's not normally accessible and that's always a pain in the ass.

11. Strength: The one that started it all. The original shot of Kaede contained some layer elements I wasn't happy with so I ended up retaking it to better cohere with the others. Strength is about confidence and inner strength "leashing" power, symbolized by the woman and the tamed lion, and there's exactly one good lion model in XIV -- Forgiven Cruelty. It also has the fun side meaning of Kaede conquering and wielding the light that almost killed her. For Moenbryda's, I went with something simple -- her axe to symbolize her strength, but with her archon mark and the Sharlayan Thaliak statue prominently featured, emphasizing her intelligence. Attempts: 2 (Kaede), 1 (Moenbryda). Difficulty: 6/10. Kaede's was straightforward enough (though I had to wait an annoyingly long time for the sky to shift colors correctly), but Moenbryda's involved me floating her up on a building so i could get Thaliak in the shot correctly.

12. The Hanged Man: Holy moly this one was a PAIN IN THE ASS. I knew from the minute I started this what I wanted to do with it -- Lahabrea holding Thancred's ankle as he reaches for Minfilia. The Hanged Man is one that I felt it was especially important to mimic the iconic pose on the card, and this was how I decided to do it, but it took me over an hour and a half to accomplish. Anyway, the Zodiark idol stands in for the Tree of Life, which I really liked. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 10/10. Absolutely infuriating to have to pose 3 actors in three dimensional space like that.

13. Death: I only ever considered Estinien for this card. It stands for transformation and change, for shedding the old to make way for the new, and I chose to depict that by having his old corrupted drachen mail posed behind him like a shadow or an abandoned husk. He has left the hate and the rage behind, but the helmet is meant to symbolize that he always remembers it, and carries it with him so that he can do better. His lance is also vaguely reminiscent of the traditional Death scythe. That spot in Coerthas is where he challenges you in the early DRG quests while controlled by Nidhogg, as well as being just visually striking. Attempts: 1, but it took a while. Difficulty: 9/10. The ground is very much not flat, the helmet is on a minion, and I had to change angles and locations a few times.

14. Temperance: I briefly considered Hythlodaeus here, but Krile fits very well. Calm, competent, but unsure of her own worth. I chose Eureka Hydatos both for its importance to Krile as well as its easily accessible water -- instead of pouring from a cup, Krile is looking at her reflection. This one came together so quickly and easily. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 1/10. In and out of Eureka in less than 20 minutes.

15. The Tower: Originally, before I reshuffled, G'raha was going to be the Tower simply because I didn't know where to put him, and I couldn't think of an ally who is ultimately a destructive force, but it always bothered me because he truly didn't fit. Meteion, though -- despite her innocence and unwillingness, is THE destructive force within Endwalker's story. This card had the highest hurdles -- I had to get 7 friends to help me queue for Endsinger and then leave, and I almost couldn't get my tools to load Meteion in properly. After that it was smooth sailing, however. I used the whole lockout timer, but this was only the 4th shot I took, and it's one of my personal favorites. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 4/10, purely for queuing.

16. The Devil: Addiction, obsession, and control -- Zenos was the only answer for this card. I included Zero as well, despite intending this to be a primarily 6.0 and earlier set, to represent the humans bound in chains to the Devil, using the way she's pinned between Zenos and the scythe to symbolize that she's trapped. Afterward I realized this exact shot and character choice would have also worked quite well for the Tower, as well, but I ultimately prefer the Devil for him. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 3/10. Came together surprisingly easily, despite the fact that I had to make Zero's hat touch pose myself.

17. The Star: Symbolizing hope and new life, I can think of no one better suited than Ryne and the Empty. Ryne herself was given her own new life when Minfilia passed on her power, and the ability to make her own destiny -- and she used that power to revitalize a barren wasteland. My first version of this shot had a photoshopped in central star, but I decided to revisit the concept with an in game effect for the star instead. Helios provided what I needed, with the fun extra benefit of some additional rainbows (happy pride!). Attempts: 3. Difficulty: 3/10. Nothing crazy beyond trying to find a good angle to get the star in the shot, as well as Eden and the rainbow crystal. Second attempt I messed up the framing and had to redo it again.

18. The Moon: The card of dreams, fear, anxiety, and secrets, Gaia is perfect here (and a lovely companion to Ryne as the Star), though I did briefly consider Urianger as well. I wanted to have Gaia on the sand, with the moon hanging between the crystal walls of the Empty above her, but the angles would NOT cooperate to allow me to get the moon in the shot. So, levitation was the only answer. Fortunately it suits Gaia well, especially the distance that it evokes. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 6/10. I hate midair posing.

19. The Sun: Another card that sprang fully formed into my mind. Joy and fulfillment is symbolized by Lyse enjoying the morning light in a free Ala Mhigo, thinking of Papalymo. It also allowed me to get both of these very different characters into a single card, as they are very much a package deal, though I did consider Papalymo for the Hierophant as well. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 2/10. Came together very quickly.

20. Judgement: The last two cards of the Major Arcana are very high concept, with very lofty ideals, so they felt hard to pin down. I thought of doing both my WoLs here, or maybe Elidibus with his three forms for light, dark, and balance. But ultimately I ended up on Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus, as the sort of "final judgement" before the battle with the endsinger, the last step before everything ends. Their literal rebirth, the resolution of Emet-Selch's conflict with the WoL, the not-redemption but understanding reached, our efforts judged worthy -- it all just seemed to fit. The card design is simple but I hope the colors and emotion of the scene carry the weight of the arcana. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 2/10. No major roadblocks.

21. The World: At last we arrive at the end, not only the last posted but the last taken as well. I always knew I wanted Venat/Hydaelyn for this card, as she is the literal heart of our world, as well as an Azem who has reached the end of her journey, as Ardbert was one who was at the beginning of his all the way back at the Fool. But when I didn't use Elidibus anywhere else, I decided to add him here as well, since he also served as the heart of the star for a time. Light and dark united together, watching over Etheirys. The one who destroyed our world in order to save it, and the one who saved our world only to try to destroy it. Perfect symmetry, a completion of the circle. Attempts: 1. Difficulty: 9/10. I had to stitch together 3 separate screenshots in photoshop, with the fore and backgrounds cut apart so I could control the opacities separately. Probably the card that took me the longest, but it was worth it.

[celtigxr]

𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 is with your 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 18+, MDNI PAIRING: Fem!Aegon x Aemond, established relationship, targcest

Story summary: In an alternative timeline, set during the events of 1.08 (Lord of the Tides). What would the story look like had Aegon been born a woman, and Aemond was Alicent's heir? Well, as it turns out, Aegon is very much the same lecherous fool, but the difference is that the consequences are far more devastating, and Aemond is determined to remind his sister of her place in his life. Word count: 13,963 (not sorry) Cross Posted on Ao3

Credits: Title inspired by: Cry Little Sister by Gerard McMann (Lost Boys Theme), cover art and fem!aegon edits made by me. Dividers not by me, I can't seem to find the original poster anymore. Story tags: Slow Burn (suffer for your smut), enemies to lovers, hate that I love you, established relationship, targcest (siblings, uncle/niece), angst, unrequited feelings, toxic relationships, yearning, jealousy, mxf, fxf, brother x sister, uncle x niece, master x servant.

Content warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut, gender bent canon character, brief canon violence, angst, misogyny, slut shaming, targcest (brother/sister, uncle/niece), Aemond frequently calls her his sister, infidelity (everyone?), breastfeeding, creepy uncle behaviour, mention of underage 'fooling around', mentions of sex work and brothels, pregnancy mention, unwanted pregnancy, allusions to abortion (via moon tea!), post partum depression, withholding child from parent, labour pains and blood, abusive parent, verbal abuse, physical abuse (a slap), dubcon (power imbalance, and alcohol), toxic relationships, alcoholism, typical canon tw's. There are no good people here.

MOOD SPOILERS BELOW

P+V, sexual tension, breeding kink, cream pie, lactation kink, ass worship, breast worship, targcest, fingering, pussy grabbing, hickeys, degradation, allusions to anal, rough sex, hair grabbing/pulling, bending her around like a pretzel, oral (f receiving), over stimulation, orgasm repression, bit of spanking, edging, man handling, rimming with finger, clothes ripping, mirror sex, various positions.

“Get up,” Alicent’s sharp voice cut through her eldest child’s peaceful slumber like an executioner’s axe. Though her daughter did not move, did not show a moment of acknowledgement of her presence. “Aenys!”

Again, no response. This, of course, successfully pushed Alicent to the point of frustration. The Queen ripped off the sheets that covered her daughter, displaying her nude form to the room. That was when Aenys finally stirred, her eyes covered by a curtain of dishevelled white-gold hair. 

Aenys sighed, grabbing her sheets back to cover her body, then promptly rolled over, ��Mother.... What is it?” Her voice was hoarse with sleep as she turned to snuggle back into her pillow.

“‘What is it? What is it, what is it?’ Is that all you can say for yourself?” Alicent leaned over the bed like a vulture ready to pick at a corpse. 

“Has something happened?” Aenys’ voice was muffled by her pillow, though her tone still successfully conveyed her disinterest. Her eyes were closed as she tried to chase back the dream she was having; she was naked on Sunfyre, flying while someone was pressed against her back, their hand cupping her mound and rubbing her pearl deliciously.

Alicent looked upon her incredulously and with barely contained fury. How could Alicent produce such a creature? Her own daughter, her first born, with beautiful violet eyes, bright white-blonde hair and the sweetest face. She was everything Alicent was not, and the Queen had absolutely no idea where she went wrong with her. 

“Ser Willis Fell,” The knight’s name was stressed through Alicent’s teeth. 

“Hm?”

“Ser Willis Fell, one of your father’s sworn guards,” Alicent stared at Aenys in disbelief. The Princess remained buried in her pillows. “Oh, for gods’ sake. Aenys, the Kingsguard that you coerced into breaking his vows.”

Aenys groaned in frustration, arching her back as she stretched out across her bed like a cat, “Oh, it was just harmless fun. He didn’t need much coercing either, he was very willing.” Aenys rubbed the butts of her palms into her eyes as she rolled onto her back, her shoulder length hair fanned around her in messy tendrils. 

Alicent gaped down at Aenys’ audacity, “Think of the shame you brought me. Think of the shame you bring to your husband, Aenys. Do you not realize how dangerous it is for you to fraternize with other men? You not only cuckold your husband, but you risk getting pregnant with a bastard!”

Aenys scoffed as she cracked open her eyes to blurrily glare up at her mother, her frustration growing with every passing second that she wasn’t allowed to sleep. “I am not some unseasoned mare, mother, I know how to prevent such accidents,” Aenys swung her legs over the side of the bed, the sheets bunching up around her waist while her breasts hung broadly displayed, littered with love marks from last night’s tryst. “Besides, what me and Ser Willis did, there was definitely no way we could have conceive—” 

Alicent slapped her hard across the face. The clap echoed in the bedchamber, shocking them both into a silence that deafened them. Aenys’ face was sharply turned away from her, her cheek stinging with her mother’s love, her eyes bleeding fresh salty tears. Alicent breathed heavily through her nose, staring daggers into her daughter’s profile. Only a flicker of regret passed by her brown doe eyes before it was quickly replaced with contempt. She bent down so she was at Aenys’ eye level. 

“You are no daughter of mine.”

“I’m sorry, my Princess, but he refused to latch. He’s been crying all morning,” Joy was bouncing the screaming baby up and down in her arms, trying to calm him down. Her large breast was exposed, showing that she had just recently tried another attempt at getting the babe to latch onto her. 

Aenys rubbed her furrowed brow as she approached the two of them, and then mutely picked up her son from the wetnurse’s arms. “That’s because he is the blood of the dragon,” she holds her son to her bosom as she walks over to an armchair and sits down, “And therefore has a refiner pallet. Isn’t that right, Aerys? My boy is an Arbor Red man.” 

Aenys cooed at her youngest son while she unlaced her bodice with her free hand and pulled her arm out of her dress so she could release her breast with ease. It did not take much for the babe to latch on, successfully silencing him. Aenys hummed contently at the sight, her hands moving along the crown of his silver-haired head, and then relaxed into her seat. 

Joy seemed utterly relieved as she tucked herself back into her dress. Her fingers went to massage her temples where her headache had taken root due to the hours of Aerys’ unrelenting screaming. “He misses you, my Princess,” the wetnurse said with a tender voice. “They both do.” 

Aenys swallowed thickly as she stared down at Aerys, her second child, the spare to her husband’s heir. He had only been born two months ago, yet it felt like years. Much like when she had given birth to her first, when the sex was identified as a boy, her son was swiftly taken away from her and into the breast of the wetnurse, Joy. When her first was born, Aenys had cried throughout the first night.On the second she marched through the corridors demanding to see her son; a trail of blood from her healing cervix following her angry strides. They only complied because she was making a scene, but she was never alone with him. Either her grandsire, mother, wetnurse or his father was present.

She wasn’t stupid. Nor was she deaf. Aenys could hear their whispers when they think she isn’t listening, or too drunk to pay attention. They do not see her as a fit mother, they think she’ll accidentally kill her children in some drunken escapade, or just from negligence or ignorance. When her eldest got older, when he started talking, she saw less and less of him. His father didn’t want Aenys to influence him. He needed his heir to be perfect; groomed to be the epitome of Targaryen excellence, something that Aenys was very much not.

As Joy went about the room to clean up, to change the sheets in Aerys’ crib, Aenys spent the entire time in silence. She just watched her son latching on her nipple, the sounds of his sighs and suckles sending a wave of calm throughout her body that felt inherently natural. His large purple eyes were starting to flutter close, exhausted after hours of being denied his right to his mother’s breast. Aenys’ finger grazed the apple of her son’s cheek, feeling the dampness of the tears he had shed. She couldn’t help but feel the sting of resentment towards her family; it was their fault that her babe was famished to the point of screaming. If they had simply let her be with him, to let him nurse off of her in the first place, it never would have happened.

The sound of the door handle turning snatched her attention. There was no knock, no announcement from a Kingsguard, it was just him walking in as if he were already king. 

Aemond’s eye landed on her instantly– Well, more specifically on her tit in their son’s mouth. Her milky white mound was decorated with fading bruises of love marks from her previous lover, evidence of her infidelity that he was well aware of anyway. The fact that she was having their son nurse from the same breast that another man was nursing from surely twenty-four hours ago made his gut churn with disgust. 

And yet… The sight of her nursing made his black heart thump uncomfortably. 

He sharply turned away from the sight, displaying the profile of his taut jaw where she could see the muscle of his cheek twitch from the strain.

“Where is Aegon?” He questioned sharply, his hand still on the door handle, conveying that he had no intention of lingering.

“I thought he was with you?” She raised an eyebrow at him, her hands holding onto Aerys a little more tightly as if he was going to snatch him away from her. 

“He is with Maester Orwyle, my Prince,” Joy is quick to answer before the two parents could fret over the whereabouts of their child. “He is learning his numbers today.”

 Aemond hums and is about to leave, but Aenys is quick to ask him what he needed him for. 

“It is time for him to learn how to use a sword,” Aemond’s answer doesn’t surprise Aenys in the least bit, but it does make her give him a look of incredulity. 

“Use a swor–? Aemond, he just turned six,” She shook her head at him.

“And? Six is a fine age to begin sparring,” he turned back to her, his eye trained to her face deliberately. “The earlier he begins, the more skilled of a warrior he will become when he is older.” 

Aenys rolled her eyes with a scoff, “Aemond, he is too small to lift up a training sword–.”

“How would you know what my son is capable of?” His words cut her deeply. It was a well placed shot straight to her chest that snapped her lips shut, but only for a moment. 

The creases between her brows deepened, “I am his mother.” 

Aemond nearly laughed at that, “You were his mother for nine months. A wetnurse for two weeks, and then a stranger for the rest. Do not presume to know what is best for my heir, Aenys. Not when you do not even know what is best for yourself.” 

Her husband and brother left absolutely no room for her to respond. Aemond dismissed himself with a flourish of his pin straight hair and a bang of the door. 

Aenys pulled Aerys tighter against her bosom, her head bowed over the crest of his warm scalp, and her eyes tightly shut. Fresh tears fall on the babe’s face, but they do not belong to him. 

The arrival of Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon and their brood came with much noise. It was no friendly family reunion, but a necessary arrival to preserve their bastard sons’ inheritance. Vaemond Velaryon would be arriving soon to petition the line of succession to the Heir of Driftmark in the anticipation of Lord Corlys’ possible death. With King Viserys still abed, mind addled with milk of the poppy, and decomposing with every passing day, the petition would be presided by the Lord Hand and the Queen Regent. 

Aenys couldn’t care about anything less. She knew the weight of the petition; if Lucerys loses his inheritance, it would be due to his legitimacy, which would in turn put Jacaerys’ legitimacy into question. Which is ultimately what Alicent and Otto want, but that would not change Viserys’ line of succession. The crown will go to Rhaenyra upon the King’s death, and when Rhaenyra is Queen she could just simply legitimize her sons, or make her eldest son with Daemon her heir. It changed nothing, no matter how much Alicent, Otto, and Aemond delusion themselves into thinking that this petition would. 

She was three cups of wine in when her uncle found her laying on a lounger beneath the domed roof of a stone gazebo, nestled in the heart of the royal gardens. Aenys was watching in mild amusement as a plain pigeon attempted to do his courtship dance to a much fancier female. Her feathers were mostly white, not quite a dove, given the grey feathers around her neck and the beautiful iridescent sheen they held. She was not at all impressed by the male.

“Well, if it isn’t little Aenys,” Daemon’s monotonous drawl was enough to pull her attention away from her pigeons. Her uncle’s tall willowy figure blocked the sun that was peaking through the shrubs and trees, making him look like a shadow. She could still see him tilt his head at her, “Bit early to be that well into your cups, don’t you think? Particularly for a princess.” 

The smirk on his lip conveyed he cared less than what his statement implied. 

“Are you going to tattle on me, uncle?” She slurped her wine noisily, which made his smirk widen. 

He didn’t answer her, instead he descended into an armchair situated at the feet of her lounger. His long legs sprawled out in front of him, his large hands resting on the arms, and his plum purple eyes roamed the length of her legs like a predator sizing up its potential prey. 

“You’ve grown up since I last saw you.” 

“That’s because I was three the last time you saw me.”

His smirk transformed into a wolfish grin. Daemon paused to look around at their setting, to the empty parepets that loomed overhead, to the loggia on the second floor that faced the garden’s direction, to the pigeon who was still trying fruitlessly with his courting dance. When he was satisfied with what he saw, or rather what he didn’t see, he leaned on his knees towards her. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

Aenys raised her eyebrows for a moment before narrowing her eyes at him. However, there was an expression of ease and intrigue upon her features, “Where do you want to go?”

“I was thinking somewhere less polished. Less green.” 

A knowing and curly smirk dimpled her cheek, “Ah, the Lord of Flea Bottom wishes to return to his people. Fee ling sentimental for your own stomping grounds, uncle?”

That lecherous smirk barely wavered; if anything it amplified when his tongue flicked out to run along his bottom lip, “From what I’ve heard you have inherited and elevated the title in my absence. The Queen of Whores. Quite a step up from a lord.” 

At the mention of the title Aenys’ smirk flattened a bit and her eyes drifted away, “Hm, or a step down, some might say. Alas, I have not done my queenly duties these past few years.”

“Because you are married?” He asked this as if it isn’t a sufficient enough excuse. “From the rumours I hear, niece, that still does not deter you. I’ve noticed that my brother has one less White Cloak guarding him.”

“He broke his vows.”

“So did you.”

Aenys tapped her wine glass as she assessed Daemon, wondering what he was trying to achieve with this conversation. Taking a thoughtful sip, she tilted her head at him. 

“Are you suffering from bed death already, uncle?” Her question managed to enlist a bodily reaction from him. Daemon leaned back in his chair, his smirk flattening for a moment before returning the moment she continued. “Got bored with one niece and now trying to pursue the other?”

He chuckled at that, his hand running over his chin before resting it on his palm, his elbow placed on his knee. “Am I wrong to assume that you suffer the same affliction with your beloved husband?”

It was now his turn to pull a bodily reaction from Aenys. Her lips fell into a pout, and she shifted uncomfortably in her lounger; her left leg moved up as she shifted her bottom on the seat so she was sitting straighter, but in doing so her gown lifted just enough to expose her pale ankle. Daemon’s dark gaze found it in an instant. 

“I doubt my nephew meets your needs sufficiently, sweet niece,” his voice is a pur that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. “I would have suspected a woman with your…appetites would have more children by now. But I’ve noticed the age gap between your sons. Is that by design, I wonder? A well placed lemon top, or a convenient cup of moon tea? I imagine you’ve learned all sorts of tricks from the brothels you frequented.”

Aenys had been pregnant in between her sons, yes, but the father was not Aemond, and was swiftly taken care of by moon tea and several excruciating hours of heavy bleeding and a pain that rivalled active labour. It took years after Aegon’s birth to even convince Aemond to try for a spare– and as soon as Aerys was conceived, her brother stopped acknowledging her.

When she didn’t answer, Daemon was undeterred as he continued, ���Mayhaps we can help each other.” His hand reached out the short distance to her ankle, using one long finger to draw lines on her exposed joint before trailing up her calf, moving along the hem of her dress. “And…should there be any consequence from it… None would be the wiser.”

Aenys’ eyes observe his ministrations, not even denying to herself that it was causing her loins to stir with longing. Her sex hungered for attention, even if it was not that long ago that she had a courtier’s head nestled between her thighs. However, there was nothing like a good cock rutting in and out of her like she was a mare in heat. Even more so when it is so forbidden and taboo. Not that he being her uncle was– no, bizarrely in their world that was normal, if not expected. She was, afterall, married to her younger brother and sired two children with him. What made it taboo was that they were both married, and their spouses were silently competing for a seat on the throne.

But something whispered in the back of Aenys’ mind, which sounded a lot like a conscience. It was enough to make her feel a bit queasy at the prospect of stepping over the line between her and Daemon. Maybe it was because she was a mother now, maybe it was the berating she suffered from her mother last morning, maybe it was because she hadn’t enough wine to shut off that little voice in her head. Or maybe it was because she felt the looming presence of a foreboding character lurking in the shadows, his blazing eye burning a hole into the back of her head. 

Aenys was getting out of the bath when Aemond barged into her living quarters. The sound of the door shuddering at the force of his body caused her poor maidservant to startle, effectively dropping the towel she was trying to wrap around her mistress. 

“Seven Hells, Aemond,” Aenys quickly snatched up her towel and wrapped up her nudity before she could even clocked the look he was giving her. That one lingering look with his one haunted eye that drank up the sight of her rear like a famished beggar. But that look was quickly wiped away and replaced with his ever present facade of antipathy. “Knock, for Mother’s sake.”

“Why?” He bit the question as he strode further into the room. The maidservant immediately knew that she wasn’t wanted, and swiftly curtsied before sprinting out of the room and hastily closing the door behind her. “I am your lord and your husband, I am entitled to this room and everything in it, including you. Or have you forgotten that after all these years?”

The last time Aemond felt ‘entitled’ to her rooms was nearly a year ago when they conceived Aerys, and even then he approached her door like it was the gates to the hells. The hypocrisy of his statement made her blink rapidly around the room in disbelief.

Clutching the knot of the towel at her chest, she widened her stance in preparation for a verbal altercation. “No less than you have forgotten, husband. You haven’t darkened my doorstep for elven moons.”

He strode closer to her until all that remained between them was the cooling copper tub and the milky water that remained swirling around. It smelt like vanilla and lemon, with just a hint of mint leaves. An aroma that was very distinctively Aenys; one that he had come to loathe and crave like a bad habit that he was actively trying to detox from.

“And that gives you a right to do as you please? Your debauchery when we were younger was bad enough, Aenys, but now your lecherous behaviour has gotten out of hand.”

“Now? Now it’s gotten out of hand?” With one hand clutching the towel, the other waved around in exaggerated movements. “I was worse before we wed, Aemond. I have been trying to be good… But it’s never good enough, is it? Nothing I do is ever good enough.”

His hands braced the edge of the tub as he peered at her like she was speaking maddening nonsense, “This is you trying?”

“I have not set foot in Flea Bottom in years, have I not?”

“That changes absolutely nothing! You’ve just changed your hunting grounds, setting your sights on honourable guards, servants, and weak-willed courtiers like the succubus that you are.”

Aenys scoffed dismissively at this, “Oh, do not look down upon me as if you are any better, Aemond. At least I do not skulk in the dark when I commit my sins.”

“What in the Seven Hells are you talking about?”

“I am aware of your little visits to Madam Sylvi’s, Aemond,” Aenys crossed her arms over her chest, pressing the towel firmly against her aching breasts. “I would have found it sweet that you still lie with your first – might’ve even been flattered that it is the same whore that I bought for you as a name day present after all these years, but your shocking display of hypocrisy is offensive. I am not the only adulterer in this marriage, Aemond.”

Aemond stared at her with the full capacity of his fury. His shame for his indulgences in the arms of Madam Sylvi was enough of a burden for him to bear, but the fact that Aenys knew about it was something he could not accept. It would be one thing if it was his mother that had learned of it, but with Aenys, it was a different story. She led the entourage of his childhood tormentors, taking pleasure in emphasizing how little, dragonless and weak he was at the time. And now… Sylvi was his only weakness he allowed himself, and Aenys fucking knew about her. 

He rigidly straightened up and strode purposely around the tub, each step calculated and predatory. “I am your husband, Aenys, and therefore you are my property by law, not the other way around. What I do to seek out my pleasures is none of your fucking business.” He is towering over her now, crowding her space, making her step back until her thighs meet the edge of an accent table flushed against the wall. “But what you do, wife, is my business. You made vows to me, Aenys, in holy matrimony, to serve only me, your lord and husband!”

Having Aemond this close was making her knees weak, but Aenys wasn’t a simpering lap dog that rolled over in the presence of a larger one. 

“I did not ask for this, Aemond!” She shouted, her chin lifted in defiance. “I did not ask to be your wife! If there is anyone to blame for your predicament, it is mother, not me!”

“Believe me, sister,” He seethed through clenched teeth, his eye turned black by the vast void of his widened pupil. Aemond stretched his neck forward, leaning so was nose to nose with her. “I rue the day mother told me that you would be my wife. I would have never chosen such an unworthy woman for the title. It should have been Helaena. It should have always been Helaena.” 

Aenys’ nostrils flared at his words; each one was like a dagger sinking another inch deeper into her chest. The mention of Helaena sent a wave of insecurity through her gut, making her eyes sting and her nose to twitch. Helaena was the daughter that Alicent always wanted; delicate, kind, soft-hearted, beautiful in such an effortless way that she did not even need to wear extravagant gowns and bold jewelry for people to notice it. Alas the greatest sin Helaena had was being born second to Aenys. With her fragile mind, she was moved to Oldtown to live with Daeron, until a suitable betrothal is made for her. A decision that Alicent freely admits was a mistake, particularly to Aenys, when she reminds her eldest of how undeserving she was of the things freely given to her. Undeserving and unworthy. 

Unworthy. She was unworthy.

Unworthy of being a wife. 

Unworthy of being a mother. 

Unworthy of being a daughter. 

Unworthy of love. 

“If you hate me so much Aemond, then just leave me be,” Her lips twitched as she said this through clattering teeth and a taut jaw.

“I wish I could,” his voice came out a little softer than the tone he had used seconds before. But the softness quickly dissipated when he reached out and grabbed her face, his fingers sinking into her cheek possessively. “But your infidelity has shamed me enough, Aenys. The Realm already laughs in my fucking face over you cuckolding me at every turn. Thank the Seven that our sons look like me, because if there was even a whisper about their legitimacy, Aenys, my claim to the Throne would be just as weak as Rhaenyra’s. And it would be entirely your fault.”

Despite the grip he had on her face, she scoffed at him, a derisive little smirk split her cheek, “Do you still believe that you will be king, Aemond?” The question effectively made his eye flash fiercely. “Father had twenty-one years to name you heir, and he didn’t. He still steadfastly declares Rhaenyra his heir–” 

“Shut your whore mouth,” He pinched her face viciously, pulling it closer to him, making her body press against the lithe structure of his form. Aenys immediately reached up and clung to his elbows, but not entirely understanding if she did to push him off or pull him closer. 

“I am no whore, brother,” She twisted her face out of his grasp. “Whores get paid–”

Suddenly his other hand was on her again, but this time it was nestled between her thighs, cupping her mound harshly. Tendrils of electricity crawled along the surface of her skin, blooming from that centered point. The touch of his warm palm, pressing against her labia just above her pearl made her thighs quiver. The feel of the pad of his finger on her slit made her hips involuntarily buck into him. Her sex ached for his penetration, as evidenced by her slick essence dampening her curls. 

“No, you’re a curse. My curse,” his nostrils flared as his eye seared into her face, devouring every tremble of muscle he caused. He seeked to dig the knife deeper, to make her feel his hatred for her. To remind her of her place, to break her spirit. It was what she deserved for all that she did to him. He plunged and curled his fingers into her, causing her to gasp and arch her back into him. Aemond did not move his digit, just kept her there like a fish on a hook. 

“Aemond–” She put her hands on his shoulders, not pushing him away, but anchoring herself to him. In doing so, the towel around her body loosened, her breasts were painfully pressed against him, likely leaking with milk. She breathed hard, her heady desires rising rapidly at his rare touch. 

Even during the whopping two times they coupled, Aemond was not nearly this lascivious with her. At most, he had rubbed her clit and fingered her for a minute or two just so it made his descent inside her easier for both of them. He always took her from behind, always kept her face pressed against the mattress so he wouldn’t look at her. 

But he was looking at her now, with knuckles deep in her cunt, showing his claim to his property. The heat that bloomed in her chest and core blotted out her anger towards him, and Aenys eagerly showed him how much she wanted him by rolling her hips into his hand, encouraging him to pleasure her. “Aemond– please, I need–”

Aemond had nearly broken and bent like a weak-willed man. The crotch of his breeches were already tight, and now the laces strained against the thickening of his cock underneath. But something snapped awake in him, reminding him of who he was lusting for. Aenys, the bane of his existence, the great Whore of King’s Landing. He pulled away from her in an instant like she had just burned him with an iron poker. The hand that was buried inside stretched and curled at his side as if he had just touched something vile. 

The towel crumpled on the floor, her vanity exposed, making it look like the trembling body of a wounded doe, waiting to be killed. The hurt of rejection was clear upon her face, with wide eyes and quivering lips. 

He still had the knife, he still wanted to drive it home into her heart. Aemond wanted to hurt her as much as she hurt him over the span of their marriage, over the span of their childhood. 

“You are merely a duty, Aenys. One that was thrusted upon me against my will, and being the loyal son that I am, I accepted this fate without complaint,” He turned away from her, keeping her on his blind side as if the very image of her naked form repulsed him… Or weakened him. “That is all this marriage is. The gods were merciful enough to grant me two heirs from you, and I see that as a fulfillment of my duty. I need nothing more from you.” 

With that he strode around the tub, his steps quicker than his usual gait. His fingers still flexed at his side before he reached for the door to see himself out, but before he did, he paused. Aemond looked down, slowly reached for something in his pocket, then turned back to her. 

Aenys stood there, crestfallen, her head bowed, making her damp hair a curtain around her face like limp strands of white seaweed. She had her arms folded around her chest, her knees were slightly caved in the middle as she tried to hide her pelvic region. His jaw slacked at the sight of her, and a flicker of regret passed his features like dust in the wind. The hickies were still on her chest, splotches of yellowed skin with purple hues at the center, reminding him why she did not deserve his pity. 

“Here,” Aemond growled. With his thumb, he flicked something in her direction. It sang in the air before landing with a noisy clank, and then rolled on the hardwood floor before it clattered to a stop. When Aenys’ eyes flickered to it, her brow furrowed. It was a single copper star coin. 

“That’s all you’re worth.”

Then, he was gone with the slamming of the door. The singing of the coin still rang in her ears, along with the chanting of voices saying over, and over again: 

Unworthy. 

Unfit.

Unwanted.

Unloved.

Whore. Whore. Whore. Whore.

It happened so incredibly fast that Aenys was tugged violently back into sobriety. 

Two days passed since the argument with Aemond, and she had not seen him at all since. It was not like she was seeking him out, but his avoidance felt more like a conscious effort rather than a coincidence. Even when Aenys visited Aegon in the library while he was learning the geography of Westeros, Aemond was vacant for the entire lesson. Which was strange, since Aemond liked to be a part of Aegon’s lessons, often shadowing the Maester or replacing him altogether to ensure that his son was getting a proper education.

When Aenys did see Aemond, it was during Vaemond’s petition.

The petition started off dull and boring, at least to Aenys, even when she was already four cups of Arbour Gold in. She stood there with her hands laced in front of her, rocking on the balls of her feet, wishing she was in the Dragon Pit with Sunflyre, the only living soul that seemed to care about her. She wasn’t paying a lick of attention to what Vaemond was saying – he gave a long speech about Velaryon blood and yada yada yada. At one point Rhaenyra cut him off to defend her son’s blood status, which was quickly shut down by the Queen. 

It didn’t really get that interesting until the doors opened and the broken and hollow footsteps of King Viserys forced everyone into a stunned silence. Aenys and Aemond watched with baited breath as the ailing King hobbled over to the dais of the Iron Throne unaided. His crown fell from his head, which was quickly scooped by his rogue brother. Daemon helped his brother into his throne and then gently placed the gold crown back upon his head with such tenderness, it was easy for Aenys to forget her uncle's reputation. Easy to forget the proposition he offered her days ago.

It was easy to believe that deep down, he might have actually been a good man. And Aenys’ heart ached in envy over her half-sister’s luck to have such a husband at her side. Infidelity aside, Daemon had not once displayed disinterest to his wife since they arrived. They reared their children together, they walked together, shoulder to shoulder, they conversed normally without argument. It begged the question as to why he propositioned Aenys in the first place…

But when he turned away from Viserys to join his family, Daemon caught her eye. Then Aenys fundamentally realized something: She reminded him of not only himself, but of the girl Rhaenyra used to be.

Then something utterly bizarre happened in that same exact moment when Daemon strode past her. She felt Aemond shift closer to her side; the heat of his body near unbearable, given the cold shoulder he had been giving her their entire marriage. Then she felt his arm slither around her waist, his fingers digging into the meat of her hip. Aenys’ brow furrowed, then she slowly turned to Aemond with a budding snarl on her lip. However, Aemond wasn’t looking at her; he was too busy glaring at their uncle’s retreating back. 

After that moment, all hell broke loose; Rhaenys spoke for her husband and Viserys declared the matter being settled. Lucerys would keep his inheritance, even though anyone with eyes knew it was unjustly deserved. However Vaemond was not fixed to roll over that easily. 

The words “Bastard” and “Whore” echoed in the Throne Room, and Aenys felt herself flinch as if they were directed at her. Though it wasn’t, they were directed at her half-sister, Rhaenyra. Who arguably out of the two sisters was the least whore-ish of all, and yet the consequences of her affair with a single man were regarded far more viciously than the lecherous reputation Aenys harboured. 

But would that be her fate if she gave birth to bastards? If her current sons weren’t Aemond’s, or even just failed to look like him at all? Would she be standing there in Rhaenyra’s place, pleading for everyone to believe that her sons were legitimate? 

Vaemond’s head was chopped in half. His body slumped, the top half of his skull slipped off with a squelch of blood and flesh as his tongue flopped out of his bottom half. 

“He can keep his tongue.” 

In the chorus of screams and gasps, Aenys’ reaction was no different to any other gently bred lady of the court. Her hands went flying to the sides of her face and she rushed to turn away. In her horror she didn’t even completely register Aemond’s arms wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest to shield her from the gruesome display. 

“Are you alright?” Aemond’s question was almost as queer as the tone he chose to speak it in. 

“I’m fine,” her eyes narrowed at him, her goblet of wine was cradled to her chest as if he was about to snatch it away from her. “Why?” Her voice was gritty and filled with suspicion and seven cups of wine. 

“I went to your quarters earlier; your guard told me you were adamant on not being disturbed,” he said it so cooly, Aenys was almost convinced that he actually cared. Even though she knew better to assume otherwise, the fact he had gone to her quarters at all (and to concede in her need to not be disturbed) felt incredibly out of character to him. 

“That’s because my maid was busy distracting me with her tongue in my cunt,” she sipped her wine casually, ignoring the flash of annoyance in Aemond’s eye. 

“Aenys–”

She scoffed at him before he continued. Their argument the other day was still fresh on her mind; his words echoed in her nightmares and branded itself to her insides. “Do not start, Aemond,” she rolled her eyes and waved her cup-bearing hand at him dismissively. “It is about time that you come to peace with my nature, just like I have come to peace with the fact that my name sounds a lot like ‘anus’. So in peace, in fact, that anal has become a speciality of mine–”

Aenys could sense his rise in outrage, but they weren’t alone in the small hall, so there was no room to react. Their entire family gathered around the table in anticipation of the King’s arrival so they could be seated for their family dinner. The first of its kind in many, many years. 

Before Aemond could grip her arm and pull her into some dark alcove to berate her, the doors opened and four guards came in carrying their ailing father on a litter. Slowly and one by one, people took their spots at the table, not sitting until the King was situated at the center.

The small hall was painfully quiet, even when King Viserys spoke, declaring that it brought him joy to see all of them at the table as one. Alicent led the dinner with a prayer, and everyone in the table complied by clasping their hands, some bowing their heads, some closing their eyes. Aemond had done both, making Aenys roll her eyes instead of closing them. She didn’t even bother clasping her hands; there was no point. The gods hated her, she was a sinner most foul. There was little dignity in pretending otherwise. 

After that, Viserys explained how the night was one of celebration, and went on to congratulate the betrothal of Jacaerys and Lucerys to their cousins and step siblings, Baela and Rheana. 

As everyone raised their goblets for a toast, Aenys couldn’t help herself but lean into Jacaerys’ side, her features mockingly soft and considerate. 

“Well done, Jace, you can finally put those skills I taught you to good use,” Aenys managed to keep her face straight when Baela sent her a sharp look. Jacaerys didn’t bother acknowledging her with a glance, instead he drank a generous helping of his wine, puckering his lips as he staved off the urge to make a sharp remark. 

As Viserys congratulated Lucerys for his preservation of his title, (The Lord of the Tides! Here, here!) Aenys caught Aemond’s eye. He was heatedly staring at her over the rim of his goblet, his jaw taut with agitation. The knowledge that Aenys and Jacaerys had done little experiments with each other in their mid teens was an open secret, at least between the four of them. It was a fact that Aemond was openly not fond of, though Aenys didn’t entirely understand why. She and him weren’t betrothed at the time, and as far as she was aware, her brother resented both her and Jacaerys equally during that era in their life. What with them and Luke being the primary villains in his childhood. 

Aenys turned back to Jacaerys, leaning against his chair by draping her arm on the back of it, crowding his space. 

“You do remember how the act is done, right? At least in principle, seeing as we never got around to sticking your cock in–”

“Enough, cousin,” Baela whispered harshly from the other side of Jacaerys, who was already losing his temper. 

“You can play the harlot if you wish, aunt, but hold your tongue before my betrothed,” Jace whispered, his words were more of a hiss as he braced himself on the edge of the table. 

Aenys blinked at him and nodded, “Mhm. Whatever you say, my dear nephew.”

As she settled back into her chair, she felt fingers snake onto her knee and grip tightly. This brought her attention back to her husband, whose lips were pursed and his eye blazed with warning. Aenys merely smiled at him as if they were in wedded bliss, her hand reaching down to her knee to grab his, then pulling it up on the table, where she laced her fingers with his. The action earned her a little rumble from deep in his chest, and she half expected him to tear his hand out of her grip, but he didn’t. 

He just looked away from her, eye trained on something (or someone) at the other end of the table. There was a twitch in the muscle under his injured eye, and in that moment she felt his fingers tighten around her own. 

The sound of Viserys’ cane hitting the floor silenced the whispers around the table and garnered the attention of everyone in the room. The frail King rose from his seat, and everyone watched with bated breath and concern, as if he would topple over at his attempt. 

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world, yet grown so distant from each other in the years past,” Viserys paused as he slowly reached for the bronzed mask that hid half his face. Unbuckling the fastens, he let it fall onto the table. His right side exposed, the empty socket, the decayed flesh that lay underneath.

 He was already half a corpse, half dead. It made Aenys’ breath hitch and her mind sober at the sight. She had never seen her father like this before; frail, weak, dying, his wounds displayed to them and yet stood above them all. Aenys only ever saw Viserys as a crippled man with no backbone, and eyes full of hate and disappointment when he looked in her direction. His most distasteful daughter.

“My own face… is no longer a handsome one… If it indeed ever was. But tonight, I wish you to see me as I am. Not just as the king, but your father, your brother, your husband, and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems... walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the house of the dragon remains divided. Set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man... who loves you all... so dearly.”

There was a palpable taste of shame, guilt, remorse, and heartbreak in the room. One that Aenys had to chase down with a drink from her cup. Unbeknownst to her own mind, her fingers had curled slightly around Aemond’s hand, which still remained in hers. Her eyes were settled on the table, but Aemond’s focus was their intertwined fingers, a deep, pensive look in his eye.

Soon after the King was back in his seat did Rhaenyra stand up with her goblet, declaring she was raising it for the Queen. She spoke of her loyalty to her father, and her devotion and love. Sentiments that Aenys found illinformed, knowing what she knew about her mother, knowing that she was no different than her estranged eldest daughter. If only Rhaenyra knew about Ser Criston…

But then Alicent spoke in kind, looking directly at the Crown Princess with soft eyes; eyes that Aenys had never seen when her mother ever looked in her direction. 

“We are both mothers, and we love our children,” the statement stung like a band of hornets. Aenys pursed her lips and tore her attention off of the center of the table, feeling bile eat up her throat. She washed it down with more wine, making her cup empty. 

As everyone toasted and silently resumed to their plates and idle chatter, Aenys turned towards the pitcher that sat between Baela and Jacaerys. Her mouth was parched and that bile wouldn’t go away. She found herself standing and unlatching her hand from Aemond’s as she strode around Jacaerys’ chair, making her way towards the pitcher. She could feel Aemond’s eye on her every move. 

Clearing her throat, she gently squeezed between the two chairs so she could reach for the pitcher of wine. Once she got it in her grasp, she stood up and innocently began to pour it into her cup with her back facing the direction of their parents. 

“I, um,” she started, tongue moving along her teeth as she addressed Baela directly. “I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer. But, if you two ever need a couple extra helping hands, all you have to do is ask–”

Jace’s fists slammed against the table as he stood, eyes piercing Aenys as she walked casually around him, innocent as ever as she returned to her seat. The Strong Prince’s heated onyx gaze watched her with pure hatred, his body vibrating with the need to yell, or worse. When all eyes were on him, looks of surprise or mute apprehension, Aemond slowly stood up, towering over him at his end of the table. Aenys simply looked around the table innocently, only briefly catching the knowing look from her grandsire. 

Her husband’s eye was trained on Jacaerys, his stoic demeanor emanating an underlying threat; daring Jace to say something or do something. To give Aemond a reason.

Instead, Jace sucked in his lips and quickly swiped up his goblet. With a slight turn of his shoulders, he faced Aenys, a painfully forced smile on his plush lips as he gave her a little pat on her head. 

With a deep inhale, he raised his cup, “To Prince Aemond and Princess Aenys… We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth.”

“Mmmhm,” Aenys hummed in her seat, her smirk tugging at the end of her lip. Aemond remained standing, but he took a split second to send her a withering look. 

“And as men and women, I hope we may yet be friends and allies,” he raised his cup in their direction. “To the health of your young family, my dear uncle, and my sweet aunt.” 

Jace sat back down, giving her a pat on the shoulder as he did. Not long after, Aemond finally settled back in his seat, looking a tad disappointed that he wasn’t given a reason to throw hands. As everyone raised their goblets to Jace’s toast, Aenys sighed and rolled her eyes. Her tongue was moving around in her mouth, the desperate need to say something in turn. It really didn’t take much time before she let the pettiness win, and soon it was now her time to rise from the table, full goblet in hand. 

“I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena,” she began, a disingenuous smile stretched across her face that was instantly read by her family. Aside from her father, who looked like he was having trouble keeping his head up at that point. “You will be married soon, and I feel it is my duty as a member of the league of blissfully wedded women to impart some of my sage wisdom…” She trailed off, actively ignoring the glare from her mother, brother, and grandsire. “The key to a good marriage is communication and patience. And when you’re angry with each… lemons, loads of lemons,” Aenys ended her toast with a cheeky grin before she felt her sleeve get yanked by Aemond, forcing her to sit back down. 

Daemon was the only person who chuckled at the table, catching her jest immediately. Everyone else either looked confused or conflicted on what to make of Aenys’ little toast.

 With the tensions still thick, Viserys requested music to fill the void. Aenys felt Jacaerys shift in his seat, pushing back his chair to stand up. With a pompous air of superiority, he offered his hand to his soon-to-be bride, who looked up at him with equal levels of fondness and delight. Before Jace and Baela left the table, Aenys caught her nephew’s smugness as he shared a look with Aemond. When the couple walked around the table towards the open space to dance, Aemond’s eye found Aenys’ in turn, a silent dual recognition of Jace's intentions. 

Despite her little toast, it was common knowledge that her marriage with Aemond was not the blissful one she had claimed. It was not a secret either that he rarely touches her, nor was it unknown that Aenys had a long string of lovers to compensate for the lack of physical affection. Jace asking Baela for a dance seemed innocent, but it very much wasn’t. What it was, was a statement: “We are better than you in every way.” 

Aenys crossed her legs under the table as she nursed her wine. She was practically slumped against the chair as she watched the couple with poorly concealed contempt and jealousy. As time went on in a haze of music, soft laughter and chatter, the tension eased from all seated except for the young married couple at the far right end of the table. Neither of them touched their food the entire time. 

From the corner of Aenys’ eye, she could see Daemon shift in his seat, as if he was going to get up. However, the anguished sigh of the King stopped him, as well as everyone else in the room. The tired and ailing King was carried out of the small hall on his litter, everyone stood and paused as they gave him their regard and respect. Not long after his departure, however, did the atmosphere shift. 

Servants came through the doors a minute after, holding a large platter that was the bed of a roasted, sizzling pig. The large plate was carefully slid in front of both Aemond and Aenys. The former had been impassively staring at Jace and Baela still dancing, but the moment he heard giggling from the other end of the table, his head slowly turned towards the smirking boy, the one who made him half blind. 

Aenys’ cup was halfway towards her lips when she noticed her husband’s look, and she immediately clocked the twitch in his cheek and the tightness of his jaw. She slowly placed her cup down back on the table, now that a real show was about to begin. 

When Aemond’s fist landed in the wooden table, Aenys felt a spike of adrenaline shoot down her spine, straight down to her cunt. 

 “Final tribute.” 

“Aemond, are you listening to me?!” Alicent shouted, her chest heaving as she stared at her son with wide disapproving eyes, marbled by the glossiness of her embarrassment over her son’s uncharacteristic and unprovoked confrontation at supper.

Aemond wasn’t listening to her, of course. It went in one ear and out the other. After Daemon had wedged himself between him and his nephews, with that smug-ass look on his face, Aemond strode out of the room and went straight to his quarters. His mind was reeling and his muscles were tense with adrenalin at what transpired that evening. Of course, he felt an immense amount of satisfaction for putting his nephews in their place, of reminding them who their competition was. But that wasn’t what plagued his mind, oh no. 

It was Aenys.

She had been a pain in his ass the entire eve, from the moment she walked in, already well into her cups. Despite the tense argument they had the other day, Aenys still had no qualms flaunting her sexual deviances around like a badge of honour, in front of him no less. However, her taunting Jacaerys the way she did, making him and Baela squirm with just her words stirred something in him that evening. Of course, he abhorred the knowledge that Jace and his wife fooled around as young teens (back when Aenys was closer to him than she ever was with Aemond), it was simply the act of her using that as a weapon that Aemond couldn’t help but respect. Begrudgingly.

But it wasn’t just that. When Aemond’s final tribute took a violent turn, Aenys wasted no time in joining him. When Jace approached Aemond and raised his fist, Luke had approached to do the same thing.

 It was very reminiscent of the night that Aemond lost his eye; they all gained up on him, and at the time he was alone. Aenys was somewhere with that male servant she had been flirting with at the funeral, likely getting her holes fingered. At the time, Aemond resented her for not being there with him. She was his older sister after all, and the closest blood he had aside from Helaena and Daeron who were both in Oldtown. Though he knew logically that Aenys couldn’t have possibly known that Aemond was even outside in the first place, claiming Vhagar. But still, it was the budding reason as to why he had pointed his finger at her when their father asked where he had heard the ‘lie’ about Rhaenyra’s children being bastards.

However at supper, when Luke strode to join Jacaerys’ assault, much like he had done that fateful night, Aenys was on him in an instant. With a strength he had absolutely no idea she possessed, she had grabbed onto Luke’s arm and pinned him on the table, hovering over him with a self-satisfied expression on her face. She enjoyed putting the Strong boys in their place as much as Aemond did, reminding them that they were the true Targaryens, the rightful heirs. 

When Rhaena went to grab Aenys, she had no choice but to pull herself away from Luke in order to fend her cousin off. In doing so Luke twirled off the table, and raised his hand to grab Aenys by the back of her haid. Aemond’s heart spiked. Though, just as he was about to bound over there in quick strides, Aenys twirled around and landed a swift punch of her own to Luke’s left eye. 

“Be lucky I wasn’t holding a dagger, you bastard,” Aenys spat in her nephew’s face and stepped over him, leaving him sprawled on the floor, clutching his bruised eye. 

Aemond was staring at his wife with a wide eye and a hardening cock/ But before he could even grab her, Daemon had stepped between them all as guards scrambled to pull Rhaenyra’s brood away. The sight of his uncle immediately infuriated him, particularly the smug way he was looking back. 

“Aemond,” Alicent’s word sliced through his reverie, and brought him back to the present. He turned to look at her, his face completely impassive. She was berating him for the past ten minutes or so, and he sat there in quiet, not bothering to respond. 

He wasn’t listening, he didn’t care. He would have done it again and again and again, if it meant he could watch Aenys punch Luke over and over again.

“I cannot believe you, of all people, Aemond, would have said such things in front of everyone. After we had just established peace!” 

“Peace?” Aemond repeats the word like it is the most vile thing he’s ever tasted. He stood up from his arm chair and sauntered over to his mother. “You lost the right to peace long ago when you told me that I was Rhaenyra’s challenge. When you and grandsire groomed me to be the future king, despite father’s steadfast decision of keeping Rhaenyra as his heir. You lost the right to peace when you married him in the first place, effectively creating a war when you gave him more children. And Rhaenyra lost the right to it when she opened her legs and sired bastards.” 

“Aemond–” Alicent took a step forward, her face slowly cracking as she pleaded with him, but he put his hand up to stop her. His face was twisted in disgust. 

“You said to her… That she would make a fine Queen. You said that to her, in front of me, mother,” Aemond pursed his lips and gritted his jaw as he turned away from Alicent. “After all you’ve told me… After years of preparing me for the throne, telling me how I would make my ancestors proud. Did you believe any of it, or were you just stroking your own ambition?”

Alicent gaped at him, her brown eyes wide and glossy. The truth of his words bit her like the chill of a winter breeze, causing her to freeze over in the consequences of her sins.

When Aemond saw that she was not going to answer, his nostrils flared and he sharply turned away from her. His long, heavy steps ate up the floor within seconds until he’s reaching for the door.

“Wher-where are you going?” She questioned, turning to him with a flash of fear crossing her features, as if she suspects him of doing something heinous. 

Aemond hesitated, his fingers flexing around the handle of the door, his shoulders taut and the muscles in his cheek twitching under the strength of his gritted jaw. 

“To my wife.”

When Aemond barged into Aenys’ quarters for the second time that week, she was sitting on a settee with her maidservant straddling her lap. Aenys was sucking on the girl’s perky nipple while her hand was buried under her skirts, knuckles deep in the servant’s cunt. 

When the maid turned to see who had entered, her eyes widened to saucers and she immediately pulled herself off of the Princess’s lap (much to Aenys’ chagrin), releasing her nipple from her mouth with an obscene popping sound. 

“What the hells, Aemond,” the Princess growled. 

Aemond ignored her statement. As the maid scrambled to fix her bodice, he jutted his thumb towards the exit, “Out.” With barely a nod and a curtsy, the maid scrambled out, still lacing up her bodice.

Aenys glared up at him as she slumped in her seat, her face was flushed (from drink or from the activities that were interrupted), and the laces of her bodice were loosened, threatening to release her breasts.

“Way to be a cock block, husband,” Aenys huffed when the door slammed shut. She stood up then, her hands thrown in the air in exasperation. “What do you even– Aemond!” 

He had grabbed her waist, lifting her with ease as he tossed her over his shoulder. Aemond took wide strides towards her bedchamber and once there, he tossed Aenys onto the bed, kicking the door behind him closed. 

Aenys stared up at him, wide eyed, gobsmacked, and utterly confused. Her plush, swollen lips were parted, her hair was in a disarray around her face as she sat propped on her elbows. 

“Wh-what are you–” Her eyes traveled to his hands, where he was unbuckling his belt and scabbard, his one lilac eye trained on her like she was a rabbit and he the fox. 

“Reminding you that you’re my wife,” He said the last word with a growl as he jerked off his belt in one swing. Aenys’ eyes flashed with excitement and alarm at his words, his hands, and the hungry look upon him. 

“I-I thought… I was merely a duty,” she swallowed thickly as she moved further into the cushions, crawling backwards on her elbows as he slowly approached the edge of the bed. Aemond put his knee into the mattress, his large hands bracing themselves on either side of her knees as he crawled over her body. “A duty you already fulfilled.” 

Aemond hummed, his expression nearly unreadable. His eye was dark with the blackness of his wide pupil as he carefully examined her body and her face. 

“I was mistaken,” he finally said, his voice low but dangerous. “My duty won’t be fulfilled until this castle is teaming with our progeny.” 

A shock of arousal goes down her spine, punctuated by how he grabs the laces of her bodice at the front and yanks so violently that the seams rip off her dress. She gasped, looking down in both horror and fascination as Aemond proceeded to rip her dress in half from the neckline down, leaving her in nothing but the shift underneath. 

Aemond drank the image of her body, just visible underneath the thin muslin material of her shift. The image of her punching Luke replayed in his mind’s eye over and over again. The way she stood there with her chest heaving, the turn of her little waistline, the shape of her pear shaped hips and thighs. Her ass. Fuck, her ass. 

His hands gripped her hips and tossed her on her stomach, withdrawing a gasp and yelp at the rough and sudden movement. Aemond was quick to tear off the rest of the torn dress from her, snaking her arms out of it and tossing it aside. Then he pulled her hips up towards him, and Aenys was quick to assume the position. 

This was how they always coupled; with her face buried in the pillows, her ass up for him as he bred her like a bitch in heat. He told himself that the reason he chose that position was because he did not want to see her face when he released his spend in her. That their coupling was solely for the purposes of procreation, and seeing her face would simply soften his cock. But, no, that wasn’t it at all… The truth of it was that Aemond absolutely loved Aenys’ ass. And what’s more, it even seemed to get bigger when she became a mother.

Aenys’ eyes fluttered closed when she felt his fingers slowly run up her thighs, pushing up the fabric of her shift, exposing her rear to him. She was so fucking wet, so needy, she could feel her walls clenching around nothing in eager anticipation. It originated, of course, during her budding tryst with her maid, but it was amplified the moment Aemond grabbed her.

Gods, how she hungered for his touch. He cruelly deprived her of it for years and years, forcing her to seek it in others, only to find shallow fulfillment. Aenys had no idea what got into him that evening, but she wasn’t complaining. Mayhaps it was the supper, the adrenalin rush of what conspired. Even she would concede watching Aemond dominate a room with a simple toast had riled her up. Had she known her husband had similar sentiments, she would have fucked him right then and there, in front of their entire fucking family. 

Aenys let out a whimper of anticipation, waiting for the sounds of his laces to be undone so he could sink into her impatient core. It wasn’t coming. All she could feel was the heat of his body, the gentle brush of his breath on her exposed skin, and the searing brand of his stare. Aenys moved her hips closer to him, coaxing him to take her, to fuck another son into her.

“Aemond,” She sounded so pathetic, so needy.  

Aemond hummed, a little bit amused by her reaction to him. The end of his lip curled in a devious little smirk. “Tell me, wife, are you always this impatient with your lovers?” He punctuated his question as he leaned over her and grounded his clothed hips against her rear, his hardened length painfully evident. 

A small gasp escaped her parted lips, “N-no–”

“No?” His voice was a quiet rumble, one hand gripping her hip as he grinded against her ass, and the other was planted on the mattress to keep himself steady. “An wanton whore like you? I am surprised, Aenys.” 

“They’re… They’re not–” She softly moaned when his fingers slid down the slope of her spine. 

“They’re not what?” Aemond’s voice was low and rough and so close to her that it sent vibrations down her ear canal.

“Not you.” 

Aemond paused his grinding when she said that, his eye watching her closely as if he was processing this confession. Finally, he hummed, his smirk returning, “No, they are not.”

He pulled away from her, both hands finding the globes of her ass and pulling them apart so he could see her puckered hole and the sheen of her wet core. “How many men have been inside these, I wonder…” His thumb inches deftly close to her hole, recalling the comment she made earlier that evening about how anal had become her ‘speciality’. Aemond decided he would have her prove that statement, but not right now.

“Hells, Aemond, please, just fucking touch– Ah!” She yelped sharply and jerked forward when he slapped her ass. He was then quick to rub the area he had struck; she could have sworn she heard him chuckle softly as he did. 

“Whores do not make demands,” Aemond gripped her hips again and pulled her flush against his thighs, then he reached over and gripped the scruff of her hair at the back of her head. His fingers curled at the roots as he pulled her back, arching her painfully. “You want me to touch you, sweet sister? You want me inside of you again, hm?”

Aenys’ face was twisted in pain and pleasure. Her mouth was hanging open and her eyes were shut as she endured the uncomfortable position he was bending her in.

“Yes, yes, fuckin’ hells, Aemond,” her plea was laced with budding frustration. She could feel her thighs tremble from not only the position, but from the sheer eagerness for him. 

“Then you will renew your vows right here, right now,” his grip tightened on her hair, making her whimper again. “You belong to me, and only me. Say it, Aenys.” 

“I-I,” she struggled to speak as her neck craned back. “I belong t-to you, Aemond.”

“You will take no other lovers.”

“I will take no other lovers,” she echoed his words without hesitation.

“Your body will belong to me, and only me.”

“Only you, Aemond, my body belongs to you, please–please– Ee-ah!” Her mouth widened as she let out a loud whimper when he bucked his hips into her behind. 

“And why is that, sister? Why do you belong to me?” His nose hovered next to her ear, the waft of his hot breath making her eyes flutter. 

“Because—Because I’m–I’m your wife. ‘Nd- And I’m your-your property,” her tongue darted to wet her drying lips. 

Aemond’s eye shut, his head leaned back as a rumbly moan reverberated in his chest. Hearing Aenys say those words gave him the same feeling he had when he claimed Vhagar. A lightness bloomed in his belly, warm like the sun as it pooled into the veins of his cock, making him harder than he already was.

He claimed the unclaimable mount; Aenys, the wild dragon of King’s Landing. 

Incapable of waiting any longer, Aemond lets go of Aenys’ hair, making her collapse back on the bed with a strangled sigh. Soon after his hands were around her waist, sharply flipping her over again, and gripping the front of her shift and tearing the fabric open much like the dress before it. The shift was shredded in seconds, exposing her completely before him, looking like a gods damn feast, and it was all for him. 

Aemond’s eye settled on her core, the tufts of ivory curls glistening with her essence. He felt his mouth water at the sight. 

Aenys was breathing hard, her back aching from being bent in half a moment ago. But that didn’t matter, her mind was reeling with desire and her limbs felt like they were worming around slowly, involuntarily, like a coiling snake. Despite her needy state, she couldn’t help but comment about her shredded attire. 

“Are you going to make it a habit to rip up all my clothing, Aemond?”

Aemond’s heated gaze shifted from her core up to her face, “If it keeps you like this for me, yes.” 

Before she could respond, his arms are wrapping around her thighs and he’s dropping on his stomach, pulling her sex towards his face. Aenys’ eyes bulge open as he buries his face into her nest of curls. Aemond did not gift her a second to compute what was happening, because he was immediately devouring her with relentless vigor. 

“OOooh, fucking hells, AEMOND!”

His tongue was lapping up her pearl like he was trying to slurp it up from an oyster. Then brought up his fingers to join, delving into her folds, curling into that spongy spot hidden within her. Aemond was relentless in his speed and force, putting his wife into a frenzy of torturous pleasure. Aenys’ thighs were jerking and trembling uncontrollably, forcing Aemond to hold them down so he could continue his assault on her cunt unimpeded. But the stimulation was virtually agonizing, making Aenys writhe and kick her legs, her pleas for him to slow down were almost incomprehensible. 

“A-a-a-aemon-mon– fuck-f-fufufuck, s-sto-p—” But his lips wrapped around her pearl and he started to suckle on it. Her hips sharply buckled into him, as a long guttural moan vibrated her lungs.

“F-f-f-f-fuck, ‘m gonna-’m gonna—”

And just when she was going to reach that blinding peak, the fucker pulls away. Aenys falls into a heap on the mattress, her muscles release its tension, but her loins are tightly wound up and flushed pink from Aemond’s last meal. 

When Aenys looks up with bleary eyes, a furrowed brow, and panting breaths, she sees Aemond put his fingers into his mouth, sucking off her juices from his digits. He’s still looking at her like he hasn’t eaten a damn thing all day. 

“What the fuck has gotten into you?” She questioned through her rapid breathing, her heart thrumming wildly in her chest. 

“Do you really want me to stop just to answer that question?”

There was no deliberation, “No.” 

“Good.”

Aemond stands at the foot of the bed, starting to unbuckle his jerkin. Aenys is quick to scoot to the edge of the bed to help him unlace his breeches. Within several seconds, Aemond was just as bare as her, all except for his eyepatch. Though that wouldn’t last for long. 

Aenys got on her knees on top of the bed, making her almost eye level with him. Aemond watched her unblinkingly as she raised her fingers to touch the side of his face, following the scar until her nail hit the eyepatch. She took it off with a surprising amount of tenderness, being that it was the first time he had ever let her near his injured eye. 

Aenys' eyes started to gloss over as she really took in the sight. To finally see the carnage up close, the gnarled skin, the scar slicing down the middle, pink at the ridges. His damaged eyelids fluttered at the feeling of her fingers ghosting around it. Suddenly the weight of the past came flooding back to her; the guilt clawing up her throat. She should have been there for him when it happened, she should have been there to protect her little brother. Aenys opened her mouth to say something, but before she could let out a noise, Aemond took the hand that was on his cheek and placed a kiss on the palm, a gesture of forgiveness. 

“We will make them pay, Aemond,” her tone was soft, but the threat was laced in a venomous promise. 

Something flashed in Aemond’s eye. A spark of fire that reflected the one in Aenys’ violet orbs. With a low growl, Aemond grasped the front of her neck like she was a goblet of fine Arbor Red and pulled her into a devouring kiss, as possessive as it was searing. This was the first time the two of them kissed since their wedding. 

In a flurry of limbs and a ballad of moans and groans, Aenys and Aemond grasped, grabbed and fought each other as they both tried to fill the dominant role, all the while keeping their lips glued together. Aenys' legs wrapped around his middle, Aemond’s were holding her thighs from underneath as they rolled and bumped around the room, hitting every surface they could find, colliding into things and causing stuff to crash and break on the floor. 

Aemond’s cock was pressed against her cunt, twitching and leaking and eager to be inside of her. The blunt tip would brush against her pearl every once in a while in their clumsy wrestling, making her whine and then growl in frustration. Before too long, their bodies were entangled on the bed again, as Aenys tried to fight for her position to be on top. However, in the process of that, the two of them went tumbling onto the floor, with Aemond hovering over her body and Aenys laying flat on her belly. 

Groaning, Aenys pushed herself on her knees, giving Aemond ample opportunity to grab onto her hips and pull her against him. With his cock nestled between her thighs, he stood on his knees, gripping the hair at the back of her head and pulling her flush against his torso. In front of them stood her floor length mirror, the display presented to them was lewd, humiliating and insanely arousing. 

Aemond stared at her reflection, his eye blackened by his pupil. He peered over her shoulder as one arm wrapped around her waist and the other pulled her hair back, craning her neck. Aenys had no choice but to balance on the balls of her feet, her legs straddling his as he sat on his knees. Aemond’s curved cock pressing against the slit of her mound, brushing against her pearl when it twitched. 

The arm that was wrapped around her middle slowly moved down until his palm reached her mons. A long finger dipped through her curls until he found her abused nub, instantly sending her thighs into a tremble. Unlike earlier, his ministrations were slower, building her high back up at a steadfast pace. Aenys' hips rotated against his hand, her whines gentle, but the sweat on the back of her neck and brow showed her desperation for release. 

“Look at yourself, sweet sister,” Aemond purred into her ear, the vocal fry of his tone sending a shiver down her spine. “So desperate for me and only me. I always wondered, Aenys: is it my cock you imagine when you fuck your lovers? Do you close your eyes and imagine it is my body pressed against yours?”

Aenys was panting desperately, a soft mewl on her lips when she nodded. 

“Use your words, darling, or I’ll stop.”

She groaned in annoyance, knowing she had no choice but to comply. With his cock hot against her slit, she couldn’t take the waiting any longer. 

“Y-yes,” she finally admitted begrudgingly through her clenched teeth. Both of her hands were grasping his forearm, the one wrapped around her, the one whose hand was massaging her pearl. “Yes, Aemond, I– I crave you so fucking much, it drives me insane. Aemond, please–please–” 

Aemond chuckled into her ear, his grin of self-satisfaction looking like a wolf about to devour the doe he had been trying to chase down for days. 

“Oh, Aenys,” he nuzzles his nose into her hair, next to the shell of her ear, “I’m going to make sure the whole damn Kingdom knows who you belong to. There won’t be a year in your life where you won't be carrying my child.” 

Aenys' eyelids fluttered at his statement, the heat pooling down to her cunt like a rush of lava. Aemond uses both his hands to grip her thighs, forcing her to squat above him, letting the blunt tip of his cock align with her sex. With one of his hands, he moves it along the sopping wet folds, brushing against her sore pearl before finding the entrance below. His mouth pops open as he slowly pushes her hips down, spearing his cock into her until he reaches the hilt. 

Aenys threw her head back into his shoulder and Aemond buried his face into the crook of her neck, a guttural groan emitting from his throat. Her warmth enveloped him like nothing else he’s ever found before. Not Sylvi, not the random whores he endured when Sylvi was not available. Aenys' cunt fit him perfectly, like she was made for him, and yet still hugged around his girth in a velvety vice. And when her walls fluttered around him, Aemond nearly collapsed into her back, a grumbly sigh of satisfaction filtering through his lips. 

He feels his wife grinding her hips against his, her mewls of pleasure tickling the inside of his ears tantalizingly. Regaining his composure, Aemond straightened up and wrapped his arm around her, gripping her hip with one hand, and using the other to grasp onto her left breast. With his calloused fingers, he pinched and pulled at her over sensitive nipples while he made sharp and short thrusts into her, effectively having her bounce on his cock. 

Aenys softly mewled and squirmed in his grasp, trying to match his thrusts with the backing up of her hips. Her hair pooled over her left shoulder, while Aemond hovered over her right. They were watching each other through the mirror, mouths hanging open as they devoured each other with their gazes. Panting, gasps, and gentle moans filled the room, making the air sticky and hot. Aenys suddenly gave a loud whine when he tugged on her nipple, causing Aemond to nearly pause his thrusts when he felt a lukewarm liquid on his fingertips.

Aemond blinked in surprise when he looked down and saw the milk leaking from her nipple. He only had to process it for a few short seconds before he turned absolutely feral. In a flash of movements, Aenys was suddenly hoisted up and turned around, and Aemond was perched on the edge of the bed now. In a quick motion, he wasted no time in slotting back into her like a sword swiftly sheathing into a scabbard. Her head snapped backward as her mouth gaped widely open to let out a loud grunt of pain and pleasure, thanks to Aemond’s cock punching against her cervix.

Her husband gripped the curve of her rear in both hands, fingers digging into the meat as he spread open her cheeks, his middle finger rubbing against the puckered entrance there. His head dipped to her chest and quickly captured her nipple between his lips, and immediately Aenys could feel the sensation of milk leaving her. The tension of her sore breast was immediately relieved as Aemond nursed her; a feeling that was elevated as he pistoned into her still, his grip on her ass making her hips grind against his length, and the curve of his cock to rub against her the sensitive spot inside of her over and over again. 

“Oh, gods, Aemond–” Her head tilted back, her spine rigid with the steady stream of pleasurable sensations he was gifting her. 

He moaned in response against her tit, his fingers tightening into the flesh of her plush rear. The taste of her mother’s milk on his palette was absolutely heavenly; she tasted so sweet, so warm, and the texture felt like liquid silk. Coupled with the fluttering of her walls around his cock, Aemond could already feel his balls tighten and the base of his spine tingle. His release was near, and based on the increase of her whines as she bounced on him, so was she. 

Reluctantly, Aemond pulled away from her breast and looked up at her, his sister, his wife, his Aenys. She looked down at him with parted lips, swollen and flushed with desire, her pupils blown wide and tears forming at the corners. Her hands moved from his shoulders to cup the arch of his jawline, bringing him close to her until their noses bumped and they were breathing each other’s oxygen through their panting parted lips. “Aenys,” her name fell from his lips like a plea, a stark contrast to the dominant commands he had given her the past hour or so. 

“Aemond,” she replied, her voice light as she felt the rise of her impending orgasm, punctuated by the flutter of her cunt. Aemond’s curved cock was relentless in his thrusts, bullying the spongy part inside of her that sent electric thrills throughout her core. It wouldn’t be too long before she is sent hurtling through all seven heavens. 

His grip on her ass tightened, his thrusts became more erratic and the creases in his brow deepened. Aemond gritted his teeth and shut his eye as his growls and groans built up higher and higher. He was reaching such heights he had never experienced before. Though it was like his body knew to wait, until the precise perfect moment, because he didn’t reach his peak until his wife did. Aenys' walls clenched around his girth like a python’s grip, her hands curled into his hair as she sharply gasped and moaned, long and primal. Aemond watched with wide-eyed fascination as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. 

With a few more erratic thrusts up into her, Aemond’s hips stuttered and he gripped tightly onto her. His nose was buried into her neck as he pulled her flushed into him, stilling her movements so he would not get overstimulated. Her name was a gospel of sin and love and longing, sounding guttural and animalistic coming out through his teeth. Ropes of his seed filled her, painting her walls over and over again, filling her awaiting womb. 

Their combined orgasms sent spasms through their limbs, prolonging the pleasure for a few more moments before their muscles loosened and they were left panting on the edge of the bed. Aenys could already feel their combined releases trail down her canal, collecting around the base of his cock and dampening her thighs. 

Feeling utterly spent, Aemond collapsed backwards, bringing her down with him. His softening cock remained inside of her, not willing to release it from the hot velvety embrace. He instead kept his hand splayed on her back while she rested her ear on his heart, both of them panting and silent in the afterglow of their love making. 

Slowly their breathing eased. When they were able to breathe through their noses, Aemond broke the silence, his voice was rough and coarse, yet uncharacteristically tentative. 

“Aenys–” He cleared his throat, his large hand caressing her spine in small circles. “I-I–”

“Shh,” she gently hushed him. Lifting her heavy head, she looked up at him with soft and sober eyes. “I know, brother. I know…”

The words known, but unspoken hung in the air between them. As she and Aemond stared at each other, Aenys couldn't help but feel whole for the first time in her life.��

She felt worthy. 

She felt loved.

Notes: Criticisms are always welcome, but if your only criticism is that dared to make a gender bent character, I'm going to respectfully delete/ignore it. This story came out more tragic than I intended, but eh. I realized while I was writing it that Fem!Aegon would have been in a worse position as a woman, and I decided to explore how she would've been treated had she retained the same personality as canon Aegon. Anyway, hope it was worth the wait, and the long read. The smut itself was over 4k words, lol. Go big or go home, ammirite?

Important: The characters in this one shot do not belong to me, but to GRRM and HBO. Everything written in this short story is written by me, with out the aid of an AI. This is a fanfiction, and therefore free content. Please do not re-post, re-distribute, or translate without my permission. Doing so will be an act of plagiarism, even if you credit me. The only other place this story is posted on, is on my Ao3, under the same username.

Tag List: @aramiv , @aegonisdrunk, @helaegonlover, @startledmonster

*if tumblr doesn't properly tag you, I'll try to send you a message

[blueikeproductions]

CyberWorld is officially announced at last.

The toys look like so much fun!

They’re simplistic for children to fiddle with, but the new character designs more than make up for it.

While we were told Elita, Starscream and Chop Shop are part of the series, we don’t see their toys yet, but they do appear on the above promo poster. Starscream flying after Optimus and Elita banking Sky-Byte. I was expecting Starscream to be ah animal also but him still being a jet is to be expected. Elita just seems to be a stylized version of her G1 design, but what she turns into is a toss up as of typing.

It does appear Megbull and Megatron are separate characters, but it’s still a bit fuzzy.

Megbull has a battle axe, which is cool.

Megatron meanwhile is surprisingly different as a vehicle, being a missile truck rather than a tank, and is a homage otherwise to his G2 design. The toy meanwhile is a heavy retool of one of Hound’s The Last Knight figures.

At least they’re not repurposing more Cyberverse stuff like last time… At least, not yet anyway.

Meanwhile, the third iteration of Megatron in this toy line, Galvatron, looks like this:

While themed around the original G1 Galvatron, he seems to take the bulk of his inspiration from BWII Galvatron and Galaxy Force Scourge. His Robot Mode head also evokes G1 Scourge somewhat, complete with a rad mustache.

Grimlock is seemingly another retool.

He appears to be a retool, or at least inspired by, the T-Rex Rescue Bots Optimus.

A big difference is the Grimlock version has a third mecha walker suit mode for smaller figures to ride on.

The idea is really cool, but @horror-lady00 brought up this old Doofenschmirtz joke when she saw it:

Mirage and Sky-Byte join Galvatron in having the more drastic changes.

While based on the G1 design, this Mirage turns into a jet, rather than a formula one race car. Mirage’s best known power is being able to turn invisible, so while he probably still does this here, WFC and ROTB shows he can also create holographic images of himself, others and his surroundings to bamboozle others. As the only known flier so far for the Autobots, I’m sure Mirage likes to fly in with his own “armada” to screw with the Decepticons.

Sky-Byte meanwhile looks like this.

While not too drastic, his design evokes his old RiD01 body type, he has a pseudo Beast Mode with wheels, and it is awesome.

It seems to be a homage to his brief disguise in the Skid-Z RiD01 episode, which is especially fun. The promo image above shows Sky-Byte driving on land, but I wonder if the tires hampered his ability in underwater conditions. The original anime usually depicted him with the ability to fly in Beast Mode along with the ability to burrow through the ground, but whether this Sky-Byte can do any of that is up in the air as of typing.

Optimus and Bumblebee look about how you expect, but they’re still newer designs instead of just recycling the Evergreen designs again.

CyberWorld Optimus does indeed seem to be a homage to Classics era Optimus.

Why this one specifically I have no idea, but it’s a fairly obscure enough design that it keeps Optimus fresh at least.

Snarl is still a Dinobot, but is a largely original design, using the same engineering as Megbull and Galvatron to Transform; I suspect this will mirror future characters with similar Beast Modes in this toy line. Curiously his colors and design elements suggest this Snarl may be inspired by the Junkions, but whether he IS one is another matter.

The centerpiece of the current wave is Scorponok.

While based primarily on the G1 version like I figured, surprisingly he takes several influences from the Energon version, with his Beast Mode sharing a similar space construction vehicle aesthetic.

Something of a play set, like Grimlock, he can combine with smaller figures in both modes.

I’m not sure how Scorponok walks in Robot Mode with the Decepticons manning the guns in his knees, but I love, love, love this. I’m a kid at heart and this return to a toyetic anime flair is what I personally prefer, over trying to recreate G1 Optimus’ cartoon model in toy form for the umpteenth time.

Cyberverse did have an anime esque Action Attack gimmick, and while it was neat, it wasn’t implemented well in the toys, with the vehicle modes and beast modes somewhat compromised to make room for it. The cartoon never used the gimmicks, as by the staff’s own admission, they didn’t know what to do with it and were confused by it. Some did sneak in like Starscream using his wing boomerang or wearing his Spark Armor, but the show creatively (and most likely budget wise) refused to use them, so the toys weren’t properly advertised, adding to the poor sales. It’d be like if Armada’s anime refused to use Mini-Cons and Beast Wars refused to use Transmetals.

Now it boils down to the cartoon.

While we weren’t given a proper teaser of it yet, what we were told is the YouTube series will be 36 “short form” episodes animated, once more, in 3D. The series is also promised to be “action packed” with “deeper storytelling” as the Autobots and Decepticons “dive dive into a never-before-seen world of danger and intrigue.“

Now the Genndy Tartakovsky Star Wars cartoon was able to pull this off back in the day.

But it also had Genndy Tartakovsky and the talent pool of LucasFilm at the time to do so.

This will not have Genndy Tartakovsky, but nor do I see it trying to punch above its weight too much like Cyberverse and EarthSpark did. At best it sounds like it’s tonally similar to both RiDs, TF Go!, and Rescue Bots, so let’s not go in expecting IDW centric stuff.

The basic premise appears to be the Transformers put in a strange world where they have to work together to overcome video game-ish obstacles while they navigate their current predicament: wacky shenanigans ensue.

While some fans are bemoaning not getting another Prime or TFONE thing, let’s be very clear: Prime, EarthSpark, TFOne all failed miserably. Prime might be popular, but it is well documented it actually did very poorly, locked behind a tv channel nobody had (gee why does that sound familiar?), toys that sold iffy (Beast Hunters shelf warmed HORRIBLY), with the series outright bombing in Japan. RiD15, as much as some don’t want to hear it, performed far better, with Hasbro very pleased with it, as were kids at the time going by all the kids I saw grabbing toys. While I did see kids like TFONE, they weren’t flocking to get the toys (at least not my way), and I still think of the kid who was really into the deer-bots, who probably would’ve bought that if a toy existed.

More EarthSpark toys are on clearance. Nobody that isn’t a heavy IDW TF fan wants good boy Grunkle Megatron or Good Boy D-16 turned into misanthrope Jason Dean. People are finding mechanical bull Megatron much more interesting even though we don’t know for sure what he’s like yet. The toys seem to suggest he’s the main leader of the Decepticons and Optimus’ opposite, but how the G2 flavored Megatron fits into this alongside Galvatron, we dunno yet as of typing.

Kids still buy toys, the smash success of Bluey, Paw Patrol, & G2 Bakugan in particular attests to that. Kids still like Transformers, but the recent output hasn’t really been interesting to them.

Kids I’ve worked with like older cartoons, anime and video games. CyberWorld appears to be trying to appeal to this, along with YouTube being the number one used platform with Netflix second to it. YouTube, like it or not, is the norm now not just for kids but for us as well. Putting CyberWorld on YouTube is pry the smartest thing Hasbro has done, because that at least gives the show the best opportunity on a far more accessible platform than locking it to Netflix, Paramount or Machinema.

Will kids watch it? I have no idea. I only know Hasbro seems to actually be appealing to children for a change instead of entitled adult collectors who aren’t satisfied unless they have the umpteenth G1 Optimus recreation.

I think the barrier to entry partly is the toys being so expensive as of typing, because at the time, the G2 Bakugan toys were much more affordable. The G3 Bakugan, while still very affordable, didn’t sell, but I think that’s part brand fatigue and part having a confusing Beyblade like play pattern with Clans over Elemental Factions completely foreign to G1 and G2’s play pattern. CyberWorld instead seems to be banking on a “play your way” style to encourage kids to use their imaginations to craft whatever story they want with the Autobots and Decepticons. …I’m not… super sure why this needs advertised specifically because most kids do that anyway, I mean Andy from Toy Story was a pro at this. If he wanted Hamm and Mr. Potato-Head to be crazy super villains against Woody and Buzz Lightyear, he did so with gusto. I’m sure plenty of kids have Spider-Man, Michelangelo, Bumblebee, Paw Patrol’s Rubble and The Mandalorian going on crazy adventures aboard some ramshackle LEGO vehicle and a Paw Patrol vehicle.

Still, after Rescue Bots Academy, BotBots, Cyberverse, TFONE, RotB, and EarthSpark failed to entice children, shorter form content on YouTube, more unique toy designs with an anything goes play pattern and affordable prices might be the best thing to get kids to notice in the current era.

All I know is Sky-Byte is an instant buy for me.

[beardedhandstoadshark]

Some random details I found in Twilight Princess (Wii), Snowpeak Mansion Edition

Here's one for Castle Town too :)

the entire mansion is plastered full with this emblem:

Which also shows up in Zeldas room in the castle in HD and I swear I also saw in the final dungeon part of the castle, implying with Ashei's backstory that it would mark the knights of the land. However, interestingly, it doesn't sport a triforce that'd usually mark things as being connected to the royal family.

the vast majority of armor sets you can find here are distinctly not human sized. Way too big, legs too short for the rest of the body, only 3 fingers. Gorons, Lizalfos, Yeti? Incredibly beefed up Zora?? Who knows.

the corners of the giant metal blocks you use for block puzzles made a snowflake. Cute. They also have holes/handles on top, so they might be containers.

hearts don't drop. The only way to heal yourself is via soup. Implies healing magic is cold sensitive...?

the furniture is breakable =)

F1

Entrance Room

Yeto was working on repairing the stairs when Yeta fell ill (links looks so tiny lmao)

The entrance room has a giant hole in the roof which reflects upon ice underneath it, but the reflection lacks the wooden beams, meaning that's technically not a reflection but a hole leading straight down the cliffs (realistically they just goofed modeling it but y'know)

the room also has giant paintings of Queen Rutela and a man who lowkey looks like oot's Rauru. Under the stairs you can find discarded paintings of the Temple of Time door, an obscured one that looks to be the Mirror Chamber entrance, and above the stairs there's a small painting of Hyrule Castle

the entrance of the entrance room is the only place rocking pillars with THIS pattern:

which lowkey look like shadow portals. No clue if that's intentional or just 2006-textures-on-a-too-big-screen-crunch, but yeah

Main Room

the main room's got shelves with books on the lower rows while the upper ones are empty, so either the old owners or Yeta like to read

it also has paintings, of Hyrule castle, what looks to be one of its entrances from a bridge?, the obscured one from before in full view (it's 100% the Mirror Chamber) and...Ordon Goats.

between Ashei, Auru, Rusl, and that emblem, this all implies the Resistance might not exactly be a new thing, or at least similar work isn't to its members

there's an old clock on the wall that stopped at exactly 9:40(?) It only has 8 points, which is 100% just an aesthetic choice but indirectly implies Hyrule Clocks go with 8-16-24 instead of our 12-24

Kitchen

the kitchen area's "table" in the corner is actually a very broken bedframe. Meanwhile the real table still has the fish you gave him on it. There's crates with carrots, potatoes, and onions, plus hanging garlic cloves.

The fireplace got pipes for leading smoke outside, meanwhile the giant stone pot's underneath a modern vent. Like just full on, Five Nights at Freddy's style metal square crawlable vent. Also there's a second giant stone pot thrown into a corner.

Left Armory

room directly to the left of the big round one, full of mainly one handed swords, but also spears, 1 + 2 -handed axes, as well as round + uh, shield-shaped shields. It ALSO has armor. Both the giant one you see everywhere, AND regular human sized armor behind it.

Left corner room

very big and very empty except for banners with the emblem and a few minitables + chairs at the walls. Except they're all placed neatly, so this probably wasn't Yeto but intentional.

South of Left Corner Room

The south connecting room also has that chair - table-table-chair combo at a wall, plus the Time Door and Mirror Chamber paintings. You can also look inside the Left Room through fenced windows, so they were probably a hall and gathering room for whoever those weapons were for?

the torches have giant wooden logs as candles lmao

Courtyard

Canons and canonballs, probably to practice using them more than anything. still, if that wasn't proof this was a fortress idk what else is

Right Armory

right corner room and Main Armory, both weapons and armor. And a canon. Right most corner even got a decayed poster with a canon drawing, and you can even read some of it! "(it just tells you to put balls then bombs into canons to shoot them)

the super decayed room underneath it, got nothing interesting except that its super decayed and barely hangs on via some stilts above a bottomless pit

bottom right spiral stairs

aren't actually stairs! It goes up smoothly, to carry canons up. The wheel on each side of the canon is probably for that. They need 2 to carry forward (1 person just rotates them like Link does)

F2

bottom right spiral not-stairs

There's a canon on top. Y'know those square brick formations on top of fortress walls, where artillery fires from? The canon's in front of a ring of those, they're just frozen shut. Left room's also got this same artillery-tower-half-circle extrusion on the other side.

Given that nothing is on the sides of the mansion, they're most likely there to fend off any flying enemies coming from the mountains

Courtyard (upper balcony parts)

F1's got the middle coutyard and 2 halls on the side. F2 should also be like that, except the walls are broken on both sides, allowing Link to just walk across them.

just like F1, F2 also has a canon in the center. You can point it riiiiight at the walls. Or just leave it where, where it then points at a giant hole in a different wall. Man, I wonder what happened to those.

the vent from the kitchen in F1 continues to the left side of the south wall, and you can see steam from the soup come out of it!

Middle Left room

floor's brokwn in the middle leaving a giant hole, much like other rooms, except this one's sureounded by (human sited) guard rails. Implies the decay of this mansion/fortress might've happened or at least started before its abandonement.

Temple Room

Too Right Corner and straight up just a church-aesthetic temple room, except where the pastor would usually have his pult you instead get a door to another room. This is where you get the stairs up to a stage. Still lacks a pult or anything, any cleric who'd stand here would just, stand here.

Like imagine a church but the cleric side is in its own room and also there's no pult, they just stand there

combined with both the oot and tp Temple of Time layouts also rocking this specific style, this might just be how any temple to the Golden Three look like in these eras

the "cleric room" has lit candles, not wooden logs but the actual, original candles. They're the only lit torches of this floor. (Are they magical? Did they get blessed by Din or something? I mean they are red, as is most decorations here, plus fire would be pretty great in this cold >v<)

Also the banks are gigantic, as in taller than Link. I know Nintendo claims this Link's like 1.40m, but everything else fits his ingame more like ~1.70m size, and even if he somehow really were the size of an actual 10 year old, they'd still be too big. Nah these banks are made for whoever is wearing that giant armor.

F3

Boss room (and the only room)

the door is the only one in this mansion that doesn't have a handle to open them. Instead, it goes up via mechanism, and then closes automatically locking you in every time (even after defeating the boss, which is horrible interior design but can be headcanoned as faulty old mechanisms)

The empty handle that was holding the mirror shard can still be seen on the wall

the reason the area froze over during the bossfight is because her scream in the intro broke all the windows, allowing her to blizzard the room

Other rooms

got nothing interesting going on (that wasn't already mentioned)! :D

[imcringeonpurpose]

the idea that Martyn takes on Ren and Scott's dog and sea monster characteristics is really serotonin-giving to me because could you imagine Ren's absolute delight when he first finds out?

"You're a dog hybrid?" he would ask. Martyn would turn to him and get very confused.

"Of course not," he'd say. And Ren would gesture to his very obvious dog ears and tail. Martyn dashes to the mirror and gapes in astonishment. He shakes his head, puzzled, and turns to Ren. "I.. I don't know what's going on."

Ren finds it absolutely adorable, claiming that his Hand's devotion to him clearly inspired this physical show of alliance and outright loyalty. Martyn would deny each claim Ren makes, and the rest of the server just assumes he's a dog hybrid.

The assumption is further proven when Martyn and Cleo have their very souls tied together, and Martyn's physical appearance doesn't shift in the slightest. If anything, his dog attributes heighten, him developing sharp fangs, claws, and his dog ears slowly move down from his head and merge with his human ears.

Martyn's hybridity doesn't come up until another Series. Once again, they're pulled from their worlds, ripped from their realities, forced into one arena. This time, they're told to fight and kill and desperately grasp for each passing second of life and blood.

Martyn and Scott find a sliver of peace together, and for the first time since 3rd Life, Martyn's physical features change. It's very slow at first - a few yellow scales on his forearm and neck, his dog ears begin to grow serrated edges...

And then, like with Ren, one day they wake up to a full-blown pufferfish hybrid, and Scott cannot wrap his head around it.

"I thought you were a dog hybrid," he'll say. And Martyn will just shake his head, tired of the speculation and the questioning. Scott will persist, and he will ask, "Are you a changeling?"

"No," Martyn will say. He will take his axe from his inventory and heft it in his hands. Despite his dog claws, despite his new pufferfish spikes on his knuckles, he will continue to fight with the axe Ren had given him all those lives ago. "Just a knight."

[serialsunset]

Literally fuck the cross weapon from Castlevania 1, most overhyped piece of shit useless weapon I’ve ever seen in my entire life. The most utility it has is at the very beginning of level 2 when the game is still baby levels of easy.

Oooooh it comes back when you throw it wow. You mean I get to watch it move at a fucking glacial crawl allllllllllll the way across the screen and then allllllll the way back before I can fire another one? and in the meantime I already killed the enemy I was trying to get with it? Or got blasted with projectiles and flying enemies while I was waiting for it to come back? Oh yippee oh joyous day, definitely the greatest item in the game!

It’s also barely in the game! You hardly get a whiff of it until the end of level five, and at that point it’s useless! It’s useless in the fight against death because it meanders along a straight line at a snails pace while him and his scythes are fucking partying all across the screen doing flips and shit. If you don’t wanna cheese it with the holy water (which is not only better in every conceivable way but unlike the cross is ABUNDANT so you always have the chance to use it) just put in the little bit of extra effort and use the axe. It is WAY better for death but also the axe knights! Because they’re always the perfect distance for the axe to hit them on its descent. You still have to be skilled to win with it but it’s not a free pass like the holy water and it’s not a real time aneurysm simulator like the cross.

How anybody still gasses this thing is a mystery to me, it’s like they’re in an abusive relationship where the cross beats them over the head for burning the meatloaf but they turn around and say ‘but he comes back when you throw him best weapon in the game’. Holy fuck I hate the cross, at least the knife is up front about what it is and it has the decency to not linger on the screen so you can throw another one right away.

If you like the cross look in the mirror and change what you see

[mega-pink-star]

You said that meta knight teaches the kids how to use their weapons. What are each students chosen weapon?

3 out of the 5 of them wield an actual weapon

-Singe uses a modified Dwarven Axe that’s lightweight, and able to imbue the Electric and Fire attribute to weapons.

-Chikami uses simple assortment of kunai and a basic Tanto blade

-Flick wields a whip that is made of mirror magic, allowing it to deflect attacks and change length

-Droplet has no Weapon, but possesses the full arsenal of the Water ability move set. He’s also able to give the water attribute to the other’s weapons.

-Fizz does not have a weapon either, mainly using her speed and teeth as her “weapons” instead.

[katyspersonal]

Today's SoTE adventures! Hoooo boy that was awesome!! Too bad I have to interrupt to cook food and stuff but

1) So, I continued going down the road through Mausoleum where I defeated Rakshasa yesterday! But first attempted to snipe the hyppo enemies with a greatbow.. Barely reduced their health because I had whole 8 arrows and 4 of them only served to attract them to snipeable distance 🤡 I'll get them later..... :/

2) I ended up going all the way down! And it was a combo string of me thinking one thing but it was another!! So my objective was to get to that mysterious missing spot on the map. I went all the way down on a small island and saw catacombs, assuming I went to the wrong place because it is caves or mines that can lead to another location entirely, not catacombs! Then I went there in that very dark catacomb and as soon as I saw Fulgurbloom and a big talisman I assumed it was yet another Death catacomb that'd be mirroring previous two but no! Light puzzles and no Death. THEN I assumed 'there is no way the boss is anything but Knight of Death' but NO!!!

IT WAS LIKE, A CLERIC OR SOMETHING (inquisitor actually) THAT WAS REALLY HARD TO BEAT AND KEPT SUMMONING MORE AND MORE OTHER CLERICS LIKE SLIM AND FAT AS GHOSTS AND THEY WERE LIKE HOLDING THAT ONE CANDLESTICK-LIKE SYMBOL AND PILING UP GFGFHGHGB I really wish I took screenshots during the fight but I was too busy getting my ass kicked IT WAS REALLY FUN THOUGH I WON LITERALLY THE LAST SECOND WHAT IN THE DEACONS OF THE DEEP WAS THAT SHIT LOOOOLLLLL

And as if that was all not enough, turned out that WAS an actual way to the new location!! I got that right 😎

3) I however apparently missed at least two secrets in that catacomb.. I saw the ladder that I didn't know how to access, and I didn't understand the deal with an item where that big shooting Imp was. All I got was this:

Guess I'll have to watch tutorial or ask my friends like the annoying completions jerk that I am x)

4) Soooo I ran into this message when I wanted to hop on the boulder:

I saw a screenshot of this before but didn't know the context!

Meanwhile, I was looking around and thinking that the fire cracks layout was looking a LOT like Frenzied Flame. Damn, I feel like that was what scared Torrent since he pretty much burns alive in FF ending and JUST SO I DON'T HAVE ANY DOUBTS LEFT GODDAMN RATS THAT DEAL FRENZY ATTACKED ME LET'S GOOOOOO (or not ffgghfgg)

5) So on my way further there, I defeated a pretty annoying invader, just barely, and.......

*SLAMS MY FISTS AGAINST THE TABLE* THIS

*BREAKS TABLE WITH AN AXE* THIS FUCKING SHIT IS

*THROWS THE TABLE IN THE WINDOW* SHIT LIKE THIS IS EXACTLY AND I MEAN EXACTLY

*THROWS A GRENADE TOWARDS WHERE THE TABLE WAS THROWN* SHIT LIKE THIS IS EXACTLY WHY I CAN NOT EVER LOSE RESPECT TO MIYAZAKI AS A WRITER HOLY SHIT *THROWS MYSELF OUT OF THE WINDOW TOO*

Gfhgyyggyuyb I already cried a bitter tear of being Seen @ Undestood when Miyazaki managed to squeeze his trademark loathing for those who commit atrocities under belief in their sainthood in a talisman Queelign dropped, but this too.. Like yeah, I can absolutely confirm that being hunted as "heretic" by your own is the most insanity-inducing thing. I have seen what it did with another person, I have experienced this too and honestly I can't be bitter about lolrandom ship choice with Radahn or whatever on Miyazaki's side as long as he sneaks addressing this kind of stuff in his works. He actually GETS it.. This very specific grievance with human species in general that I don't see acknowledged on this level anywhere else. I feel seen ;-;

6) Also the map too!

I am going to make a wild prediction that Midra and the boys were also unfairly slandered like heretics and so the despair festered to the point of him (?) being contacted by the Three Fingers the same way Marika was contacted by the Two Fingers after her own tragedy 🤔 Listen it is not like I've had everything spoiled, I am just trying to guess! Lol I bet that the Hornsent clerics/saints/inquisitors/whatever are now looking at this land being tormented by Frenzy and go like "well see how much Midra overreacted, it was a good call to bully him :т" like you know, in the classic fashion of witch hunters completely missing the fact that they've created their own enemy. Dipshits.

(Ok sorry for getting too emotional on this bit, those three of you who followed my blog for a long time probably know why I am so occupied with this topic -_- Granted, Miyazaki already did the topic with the Nomads so maybe now he will try an alternative route and have people in this place being actually guilty? I'll see!)

7) There were strangely places on the corner of the map where rain started and ended quick, without any reason xd

I wonder why it is like this? Probably a mapping bug but it feels for me as though something is protecting this land from completely burning this way! Based if intentional!

8) Not gonna lie, I've gotten a little nervous when I've picked this thing:

Winter Lantern? oMgggg LiKe iN bLooDbOrNe IS THIS A BB REFERENCE 👀 cfhkgjhuh

Okay, but so pattern looked familiar and I suddenly remembered a creature I've seen in a trailer o_o So yeah, I just knew it was not going to be a huge pain in the ass soon 🙄

9) And I fucking died lol gfbgg

Honestly I don't know if I am mistaken, but I don't recall seeing a healthbar of this thing! It seems like all hits had no effects so maybe I did something wrong, I don't know.. I'll figure out what to do later I guess

So yes, not too much progress but a lot of emotions! One of the biggest "holy shit I love this DLC" moments so far after that pretty hard battle!

[pushovermediacritic]

One Piece Checkered Fate Theory:

Egghead is the Inversion of Thriller Bark Elbaph is the Inversion of Sabaody

Primer: the Checkered Fate theory goes that every Post-Timeskip arc inverts/mirrors a Pre-Timeskip arc, taking elements and flipping them.

Return to Sabaody and Fishman Island: Arlong Park and Loguetown.

Punk Hazard: Twin Capes, Whiskey Peak, Little Garden, and Drum Island.

Dressrosa: Alabasta

Zou: Jaya

Whole Cake Island: Skypiea

Reverie: Long Ring Long Land

Wano: Water Seven

Onigashima: Enies Lobby

By that pattern, Egghead mirrors Thriller Bark.

Lucci mirrors Ryuma, rematching a weaker/stronger opponent (Luffy/Brook) before then fighting Zoro.

The Five Elders mirror Oars.

The Giant Pirates mirror Nightmare Luffy.

Emet in Egghead mirrors Kuma in Thriller Bark.

And then Elbaph mirrors Sabaody. I've thought this for a while, and the most recent chapters provide some strong evidence.

Duval's Flying Fish Riders is mirrored by Rodo's LegoLand.

Rayleigh in Sabaody is mirrored by Gaban in Elbaph.

The Celestial Dragons in Sabaody are mirrored by the Holy Knights in Elbaph.

Both arcs take place on giant trees.

And who is Loki mirroring? Camie. Luffy's quest to free Loki from his chains mirrors his desire to free Camie from slavery.

Since Sabaody ended with the Straw Hat's greatest defeat, it follows that Elbaph would either end with another huge defeat (the destruction of Elbaph), or with the Straw Hat's greatest victory (obtaining the final Road Poneglyph).

Going by the Checkered Fate theory, the last few arcs will mirror Amazon Lily, Impel Down, and Marineford. Personally, I'm guessing Laugh Tale will mirror Amazon Lily, there will be an arc before the Final War to parallel Impel Down, then the Final War mirrors Marineford.

There's also a second half of the theory, which is that the Final Saga will also have mirrors of East Blue in reverse order, not including Arlong Park and Loguetown.

By the logic of the second half:

Egghead: Thriller Bark and Baratie (Kizaru parallels Gin)

Elbaf: Sabaody and Syrup Village (maybe Harald mirrors Kuro and Loki mirrors Kaya?)

Laugh Tale: Amazon Lily and Gaimon (the treasure is real this time)

???: Impel Down and Orange Town (Cross Guild arc?)

Final War: Marineford and Romance Dawn (specifically, Sakazuki mirrors Axe-Hand Morgan and Blackbeard mirrors Alvida)

And then the epilogue mirrors the prologue and post-Marineford

[sticker-star4]

been re reading some of your post and was wondering about you headcannon of nonsurat being a demon beast before joining the gsa

Nonsurat monster hc

Even though I haven’t really developed this idea much, I would love to share you my ideas I have so far. (MIGHT BE SUBJECT OF CHANGE IDK)

(This is before Sirus created Meta Knight btw)

I believe that he was experimented on by N.M.E. to be the “Perfect angel” to stop the Star Warriors once and for all. When the angel woke up, he ran away from the fortress because he couldn’t handle any of the torment. Even through he flew away the curse the angel had gone through led him to transform into a monster.

Arthur, Dragato and Falspar were having a picnic at a forest talking about their battles when all of a sudden the monster stopped them. When Arthur defeated the monster, the monster turned into a globix just like the rest of the men. The Globix couldn’t remember anything that happened and apologized for any possible danger he has led on Arthur’s men. The GSA forgave him and renamed the fallen angel, Sir Nonsurat.

Because Nonsurat couldn’t remember anything before he met Arthur, he had a desire to learn about his past. He often reflects himself nearby the GSA fountain and question his existence. He has multiple scars from experimentation and blades from his head that he can’t remove.

Here’s an old drawing of each of the GSA members without armor

• Arthur has burn marks from a monster attack at his village

• Dragato has an eye scar when battling his father, Galacta Knight (I haven’t developed much of his backstory yet sadly :/)

• Of course Nonsurat has the experimentation scars from NME

• And Falspar has nothing because NO TRAUMA :D (that’s until “Mindscapers” :O)



I often associated Nonsurat with angelic symbols and reflection. When creating my moodboard a while back, I had this idea in my head that Nonsurat represented an ethereal and elegant presence to audiences who love heavenly aesthetics.

I think the fallen angel monster is probably my favorite idea I have of him so far. I also have a different hc that he was once a sea monster, but idk.

Idk he has this abstract appearance compared to the other GSA members which is one of the reasons why I love him so much. He is either my 2nd or first fave out of Arthur’s group (Can’t decide between him or Falspar). He also has such a peaceful color scheme with the light blonde, blue and white which suspects that he is either an angel or a fallen one. He has such a strange design, but that’s what makes him so unique. I also done some research over axes and they are supposed to represent strength and judgement which I find pretty cool.

I also based his personality and story off of these characters:

(IMPORTANT NOTE: I still haven’t watched NGE, but I’ve heard some interesting spoilers about Rei which is why she is here)

I might also base his character off of the original source material of Lancelot



I imagine there would be an episode that would take place after Arthur’s crew met Joe and Sirica (before the events of the movie) where they had to hunt down their own secrets from the mirror monster, Simirror. Not only Simirror reveals the truth that Joe was a monster, but Nonsurat as well (idk about the others yet). I imagine the episode would be called “Mindscapers”. Basically it’s an episode where each of the main 6 go through physiological torture (including Falspar unfortunately), but it’s also supposed to be an episode full of character growth and hope for each of them. After the crew beat Simirror, Joe bursts into tears and runs away fearing what the GSA will do to him since they all know the truth. After Nonsurat knows his own truth, he reassures Joe everything will be okay and that the GSA won’t hunt him. Even though they both were monsters, they overcame those hardships and became heroes because of it. I have a RD version of that scene if you want to check it out.

There might be things I still need to develop since I’m literally focusing on Sirus and Joe rn, but maybe after I’m done with those arcs I can develop each of the gsa member arcs too. Let’s just see what happens to Nonsurat in the future 👍

Extra:

This song always reminded me of him

[agentrouka-blog]

"Last of all the dogs would come sniffing, lean and hungry, the feral pack that was never far behind the khalasar."- Dany(AGOT). The pair of dogs here has some similarities with Ramsey hounds. Thoughts?

It's probably part of a broader metaphor in which dogs almost always assume the role of knights (obedient servants of violence) or soldiers.

They are, interestingly, often placed in antagonistic roles toward wolves, for good or bad. Dogs are also generally placed in a negative light with Daenerys, used as an insult in various contexts, and she later eats "unborn puppy" as a delicacy. There's Ramsay, the Cleganes, the wildling dogs fighting Ghost... In fact, perhaps the only positively connotated dog we ever see in the series is the eponymous Dog (a play on the Hound) protecting septon Meribald travelling the war-ravaged Riverlands, gentle with children. This true knight of a nameless dog "belongs to himself and the Seven", and is - tellingly - described in Brienne's POV chapter.

In your quoted scene, it's the feral state of the dogs that sticks out especially. These are not well-kept and trained working dogs, like Ramsay's "girls". They more closely mirror the Hound, post-Blackwater, or the "broken men" left over from the war. Scavengers in the aftermath of violence.

When the battle was done, Dany rode her silver through the fields of the dead. Her handmaids and the men of her khas came after, smiling and jesting among themselves. Dothraki hooves had torn the earth and trampled the rye and lentils into the ground, while arakhs and arrows had sown a terrible new crop and watered it with blood. Dying horses lifted their heads and screamed at her as she rode past. Wounded men moaned and prayed. Jaqqa rhan moved among them, the mercy men with their heavy axes, taking a harvest of heads from the dead and dying alike. After them would scurry a flock of small girls, pulling arrows from the corpses to fill their baskets. Last of all the dogs would come sniffing, lean and hungry, the feral pack that was never far behind the khalasar. (AGOT, Daenerys VII)

These dogs, descendents of domesticated pets that used to serve a purpose mostly likely, no longer receive human care. They follow behind to devour what is left over after the khalasar has had its fill of food or violence. The khalasar moves on with its plunder and slaves, they don't care about what they leave behind, so the dogs eat the corpses.

There is a sense of abandonment and decay in that image that we see mirrored in Westeros in the aftermath of the recent wars, too. These feral dogs depend on violence or waste to eat, there is no other place for them. And where there used to be shepherds and sheep and a replenishing lifestyle, glorious battle leaves corpses, flies, scavengers.

[lemon-whiskey]

‘The Tarnished Knight, Part Two.’ — Ironwood’s Redemption Concept (Vol 9 spoilers)

My theoretical of if James Ironwood was the extra person to fall with team RWBY, instead of Jaune, into the ever after and how I think that would work. Biggggg post beyond the cut. My posts tag for this idea: [ #The Tarnished Knight RWBY au ]

You can reblog if you want to!

We left off with The Blacksmith.

James accepts The Blacksmith’s offer to be given the start to be who he wanted to be. She re-carves him for his second chance.

He wakes up on the beach again, covered in multicolored maple leaves. James takes a deep breath as he slowly sits up, blinking widely. He felt as different as he felt the same, one notable change is that he didn’t feel the pain. He still had an ache but he felt,,, better. More alive. His pants- once dark blue- now a charcoal grey. A dark blue tunic almost like a gambeson replaced his greatcoat and uniform. Worn Silver Paldrons and rerbraces that stopped at his elbows, tassets at his hips and thighs, his arms now matching and in a gently used silver, no gloves in sight.

He’s ticking softly, only noticeable because he can feel it. He holds a hand up to his right breast and unbuttons his tunic to look down and see the face of a small clock flanked by filigree in the metal side of his chest, ticking along with the rhythm of his heart. Yes he still has that for human reasons because he is indeed still human.

His gun is no longer a gun, it’s an axe that matches the silver and black of his old gun(s) with the filigree along the handle as well. A small blue stone set in the bottom of the pommel. He’d see himself in the weapon’s reflection, years younger. A smooth face he didn’t remember he ever had, alone in what he believed to be purgatory. He gets a helmet too, dramatic reveals and all that.

From here, he would now take the place of the rusted knight in Lewis’s story. He would realize he’s not in purgatory, but a different universe entirely.

James would not have ended up with the paper people though, this I will stray further off the script for as I’m echoing the tin man from The Wizard of Oz a little more here. He’s a forest dweller who makes a home and protects the flora and fauna while frequenting markets. We’re keeping juniper here because I love her so much except in his case she is either Ace or something else. Maybe the rabbit in the beginning fell in with him instead of running off idk. She gets silver antlers as a treat if you wanna play on the lucky rabbit vibes add a horseshoe symbol to her chest.

We’ve now approached the point where he’d be back at his original vol 8 age, beard and maybe a pony tail for vibes. And now he’s gonna re-meet team RWBY and oh boy! It’ll be ugly but also hilarious. Get ready for ‘Just James.’

Yeah Weiss still gets her mature comment except it’s replaced with a shocked but appreciative, ‘Striking.’

James is trying to get RWBY to trust him, the cat plays on the fact that they don’t.

Things go a similar way as the original story but with a lootttt more tension and we get James backstory possibilities!

In the mirror domain we get him seeing some options: maybe himself but in his old atlas uniform, or possibly Qrow in the mirror, maybe Clover. Hell both maybe, I’m just a gremlin here.

I might draw this in the future, I’m pretty content with the idea!

Part One: [HERE]

[kirbyofthestars]

What do you think the Mirror World Variants of the Meta-Knights are like?

I’m not sure what they would be like, I haven’t thought about it too much ajshjk. I will say I think the individuals that make up the Meta-Knights still exist in the Mirror World (Axe Knight, Sailor Dee, etc.), but the Meta-Knights as a collective themselves do not.

[ponyosmom35]

The Fall of King Steve

Bittersweet chapter eleven

Steve Harrington x fem oc

synopsis: After buying weapons to trap the demogorgan, Nancy, Johnathon, and Indie spot graffiti with Nancy's name.

warnings: cursing, fighting, blood, steve gets his shit rocked

link to master list:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

The next morning dawned grey and heavy, mirroring the weight of their mission. Indie, Jonathan, and Nancy gathered in Jonathan’s room, their faces grim and determined as they planned their next move. They had realized that the monster in Hawkins had a peculiar weakness: it tracked blood. Their plan was simple but dangerous—lure the creature into a trap and destroy it.

After a brief stop at the local hardware store, they emerged with a cache of weaponry: crowbars, axes, and a variety of homemade weapons that would make a medieval knight proud. The sight of their arms and ammunition made Indie’s stomach churn with a mix of dread and resolve.

As they walked past the movie theater, a fresh wave of outrage hit them. The marquee, once the highlight of Hawkins’ downtown, was now defaced with the cruel spray-painted message: “Nancy the Slut Wheeler.” Indie’s grip tightened on Nancy’s hand, a silent show of solidarity.

They reached the alleyway behind the theater, where Nancy spotted Steve and his gang loitering. The confrontation was inevitable. Nancy, her face set with determination, strode up to Steve. Without a word, she slapped him across the face, a sharp crack that echoed in the alley.

Steve, taken aback, rubbed his cheek and glared at Nancy. His anger flared. 

“What is wrong with you?” Nancy asks 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” Steve asks seemingly unaffected by her slap. “I was worried about you, can’t believe I was actually worried about you”

“What are you talking about” Nancy asks as Johnahton and Indie walk up behind her. Nancy’s eyes light up with realization and she looks up at Steve. 

“So you came by last night? Look I don’t know what you think you saw but it wasn’t like that” 

“So what you just let him in your room to.. Study?” Steve asks 

“Another pervy photo session” Tommy laughs

“Shut the fuck up asshole” Indie snaps at him stepping forward. 

“Go to hell” Steve snaps

Indie’s eyes, cold and hard, bore into Steve. The hurt she felt was raw and intense. She struggled to understand why she had ever admired him. Steve's arrogance and the recent events had shattered any idealized image she had held of him. Sure she regretted the horrid words she’d spewed at him a few days prior. He didn’t deserve to be the receiver of her pain and anger that day, but he’d been the one to make her snap. 

“You know what Byers I’m actually kind of impressed, I always took you for a queer but I guess you’re just a screw-up like your father” Steve snaps, pushing Johnthon as he tries to lead them away. 

“Get away from him asshole!” Indie snaps, pushing his chest. His nostrils flare as he stares down at her in anger. 

“Get your goddamn hands off me freak, I don’t wanna know where they’ve been” Steve snaps “Who knows maybe Byers has them both, imagine that” 

Her heart shatters at Steve’s cruel words and she looks up at him in betrayal and heartbreak. Before she could respond Steve keeps talking, clearly looking for a fight. 

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, I mean a bunch of screw-ups in your family, your mom”

“Johnathon please keep walking” Indie begs as he holds his arm, knowing he was about to snap.

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this but I’m not supposed what happened to your brother-” Steve snaps as he pushes Johnathon again

“Steve shut up!” Nancy yells 

“Johnathon-” Indie tries 

“Their family is a disgrace to the entire -”

Before Steve could react, Jonathan’s fist connected with his jaw. The force of the punch sent Steve stumbling back. Steve recovered quickly, anger fueling him. He lunged at Jonathan, the two of them crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs. 

Jonathan’s rage was unrelenting. He pounded on Steve, each blow a release of the frustration and fear that had been building inside him. Steve, though taken by surprise, fought back with equal fervor, their bodies rolling across the dirty asphalt. The alleyway was filled with the sounds of grunts, impacts, and harsh breathing.

“Johnathon stop it!” Indie yells 

In the chaos, Indie and Nancy stood aside, watching in horror as their friends fought. Nancy tried to interject. “Stop it! Both of you, stop!”

Jonathan didn’t hear her. He continued to beat Steve, his fists raining down until Steve’s attempts to defend himself grew weaker. The violence only ceased when the distant wail of sirens grew louder.

The police arrived, and Jonathan was pulled off Steve, his face smeared with dirt and blood. Indie’s heart sank as she watched Jonathan being handcuffed and led away. Nancy, in a daze, could only stand by as Steve, battered and bruised, smirked triumphantly.

They made their way to the police station, Indie’s thoughts a chaotic whirl of anger and regret. At the station, Indie gave her statement with a trembling voice, her mind racing with thoughts of what could have been. Nancy stood by Jonathan, offering what comfort she could.

-

Joyce Byers, seething with frustration and concern, picked them up. Her eyes were sharp with anger as she scolded Jonathan. “You should have talked to me before going after the monster. This is a mess!”

Hopper, stern and imposing, joined them. “You can’t go home right now. The government is after you. It’s not safe.”

The group returned to the Byers’ house considering it their home base. They gathered around the walkie-talkies, trying to establish contact with anyone who could help. After several tense moments, Nancy managed to reach Mike and the rest of the kids. They agreed to meet up at the Byers’ house.

When Eleven arrived, she looked pale and exhausted. The group explained the situation, and Eleven attempted to use the walkie-talkie to contact their missing friends. The effort seemed fruitless at first, and Eleven’s frustration was evident.

“I can try to find them through a bath,” Eleven said finally. “It’s a stronger connection.”

They raced to the school to fill a large bathtub with an immense amount of salt and cranked up the static on the radio. Eleven stepped into the bathtub, her eyes closed as she concentrated. The room was filled with a tense silence as they watched her, hoping for any sign of connection.

The static on the radio crackled ominously, filling the room with a low hum. Eleven’s voice cut through the noise, trembling but resolute. “Barb?” she called softly, her tone laced with hope.

“Barb?” she repeated, her voice breaking as she tried to stay focused. “Barb?”

The static seemed to swallow her words for a moment before the faintest whisper emerged from the radio. The sound was weak and distorted, but unmistakable. Eleven’s face twisted in distress as she listened intently, her breathing growing shallow and rapid.

The words that came through were barely audible, but they were enough. Eleven’s eyes filled with tears as she struggled to keep her composure. “gone,” she said, her voice cracking and breaking into sobs.

The room fell into a suffocating silence. The air seemed to thicken as the weight of Eleven’s words settled over them. Indie’s heart plummeted into her stomach, her mind reeling from the impact of the revelation. 

Indie’s vision blurred as tears welled up in her eyes. She sat back on the gym floor, her body numb as her mind struggled to process the devastating news. The room seemed to spin around her, the walls closing in as she felt herself disconnect from the reality of the moment. The harsh reality of Barb’s death was too much to bear.

The sounds of the room became distant. Hopper’s voice, filled with concern and urgency, seemed to be coming from a far-off place. Indie could barely make out his words, the sound muffled and distorted as if underwater. She tried to focus, to grasp at the fragments of reality that were slipping through her fingers, but the effort was too much.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, and her chest felt tight with the weight of her grief. The room was filled with the heavy silence of their collective loss. Indie’s tears streamed down her face, unchecked and silent. Her body shook with the intensity of her emotions, but she remained eerily still, her mind desperately trying to reconcile the cruel truth with the memories of Barb.

Eleven’s hyperventilation grew more pronounced as she struggled to regain control, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her sobs were muffled by the static, and the room felt smaller, more oppressive, with each passing second. Eleven was losing control, she was feeding off of Indie’s emotions. 

In that unbearable silence, Indie sat alone with her grief, disconnected from the frantic energy of the room, unable to find solace or understanding in the midst of their shared pain. The weight of the loss hung heavily over her, an unbearable truth that seemed to swallow all hope.

Joyce is able to calm the young girl down after several minutes. 

She took a deep breath and forced herself to focus again. “Will... Will, are you there?”

A weak, distant voice crackled over the walkie-talkie. “Will... Will?” Nancy’s face lit up with a mixture of hope and fear as she heard his voice.

Joyce, tears streaming down her face, held Eleven as she broke down. “We need to find him,” Joyce said, her voice resolute.

The group, now more determined than ever, prepared to face the creature that had taken Barb and Will. They would bring the boy home. 

[jessepinwheel]

🤯😅⛔ for the emoji questions!

sorry for the delay on this one I literally forgot it was in my inbox

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

at the risk of sounding like an arrogant prick I don't feel like I struggle that much with most writing. writing stories are all pretty similar from a methodological standpoint I think, whether it's romance or action or horror, it's just a question of what kind of messages/emotion you want to get across through what strategies.

but that's not a super helpful answer. I guess things I don't really write a lot are romance? (although I'm not sure I'd say that either because relationships are a huge part of my stories, just not ones that involve kissing) and I guess also smut because I mostly find it boring and have no desire to write it

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

well there's like 6k of a Supernatural casefic in one of my folders featuring one of my OCs does that count?

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

well probably the most prominent one is transistor, that one obi-wan time loop story that I wrote like 30k for and then decided to stop writing because making it the way I wanted it was either going to require deleting like 10k words or to go on for way too long

there's also an a companion piece to dielectric breakdown (called corona discharge) which was going to pretty much be a rex point of view story covering parts of the main story and how he dealt with cody leaving, but I decided that I was not adding anything useful enough to really follow through all the way

but besides that I have a lot of unfinished works in my writing folder that I'm not entirely sure I'll come back to but which I also haven't officially axed. to name a few:

jamais vu: the ace attorney fic where phoenix goes back in time and ends up pretending to be his own uncle

houndstooth: a blackwell series fic where after the events of the last game rosa has amnesia and now joey has to deal with both having a body and also that

entrainment: a bleach fic that's kind of a pokespe fusion where ichigo gets pokemon and also accidentally makes a contract with pokemon satan (giratina)

event horizon: the kirby fic in which meta knight deals with ptsd after being stuck in the mirror from amazing mirror

memento: a pokemon sun/moon fic in which nanu gets fucking owned and washes up on the shore amnesiac because unbeknownst to him he just got eaten by a dimensional wormhole and he appears to be in a world where he died or disappeared a long time ago

eutectic: a naruto fic where kakashi gets sent back in time to an alternate dimension where kannabi bridge went fine and alternate world kakashi grew up to be an asshole so our kakashi decides to solve the plot of naruto by causing problems on purpose (committing lots of murder) and making life really annoying for alternate world asshole kakashi and also becoming haku's murder dad

I have a lot of stories that will probably never see the light of day, y'all just don't see them since I don't post anything unless they're done or there's a really solid plan to finish them

send me fanfic writer emoji asks