writtingforfun

[writtingforfun]

reblog if you’re a writer who feels guilt whenever they’re not writing and being productive, so I know I’m not the only one lol

[writtingforfun]

"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.

[writtingforfun]

me: *opens document to write* brain: let’s rethink the entire plot instead

[writtingforfun]

I love the fix-its. I love the AUs. I love the missing moments. I love the canon compliants. I love the canon divergents. I love the drabbles. I love the song-fics. I love the crack fics. I love the smut fics. I love the crossovers.

[writtingforfun]

Hi, I'm back and I'll be going back to writing the requests you have sent me 🤍

I ask you to be patient with me, two family members of mine died and I'm trying to cope 🤍

[writtingforfun]

Autumn leaves are falling down like pieces into place because Red Taylor's Version season is here (like it ever left). 🍂

[writtingforfun]

[writtingforfun]

WHO SAY THE TRAILER? AM I THE ONLY ONE FREAKING THE SHIT OUT?

What do you guys think?

they both look so good ;;

[writtingforfun]

[writtingforfun]

Prey or Prayer?

OC! Marisa Hastwyck x Daemon Targaryen

Summary: Lady Marisa Hastwyck, of House Hastwyck of the Reach. First born daughter of Lord Murrel Hastwyck and Lady Lydia Hightower, second born child of the couple. Married to Prince Daemon Targaryen after the untimely death of Lady Laena Velaryon. Married at the young age of fourteen and a mother at fifteen. Her relationship with her step-daughters was strained and very one-sided.  A dutiful wife and mother, caring and loving person to all. A devout of the Faith of the Seven, her only comfort on the days the bed was left cold, even if her husband laid next to her. The very persistent shadow of the Princess Rhaenyra hunted both their bedchambers and their own hearts and souls.

Chapter 1

None so dutiful.

Those are the words of House Hastwyck. And they are words they live by. 

Like a Stark keeps his word, like a Velaryon sails the ocean, a Hastwyck is bound by duty and honor.

Lady Marisa Hastwyck was the perfect picture of the Maiden; devout, chaste and kind. Her entire life she had been prepared for marriage - her mother had made sure of that. Lady Lydia Hightower was unpleasant and highly strict about her children's upbringing, perhaps not in the best way. It was the sort of ambition that ran through Hightower blood, irrational and indifferent to anyone else’s feelings.

When Marisa was just ten, she was already made to spend two hours of the day praying to the Seven, by the time she turned twelve, she knew how to sew and embroider, by thirteen she was ready to be sold away as soon as someone wanted her. 

Which is why she had been sent to the Red Keep to study under the septas of the capital. Four moons had passed since she arrived there with her father and was presented to the King. But her father had only stayed for three weeks, and she was soon left alone with only her long time handmaid, Helia. 

Marisa was very intelligent, despite her mother’s disregard towards intellectual knowledge. She and her brother had always shared a passion for books and history, something that she thought would be rather important to maintain a conversation. Turns out her mother knew that the people of court were incredibly vain. The one time she brought up history, she received so many looks like she had lost her mind. 

Life at court wasn’t for her, and Marisa was certain of it. But how could she disappoint her parents and beg them to leave after all the weight they put on her shoulders? Her brother had been married just the year before, at sixteen, because he was found in bed with a middle class lady. The wedding had been rushed and no one even mentioned it. Now, their honor laid fully on her, since her little sister was only ten. 

Everyday, as part of her routine, she spent the nights in the library. She could slip in, unnoticed by anyone, and read as much as she wanted. And the library in the Red Keep was without a doubt the most beautiful one. History, stories, languages… Anything anyone could ever want.

This night was not any different. She picked up her book, one of the History of House Targaryen, and walked towards her usual table, somewhat secluded from the rest of the library, a book in one hand and a candle in the other.

As she made her way to the table, she was startled by the light in her seat. She was always so distracted and so sure no one would be there - after all, no one had sat there in over three moons. It was still very dark, despite the light each of them had, but she could see the outline of his body. Their eyes met and her breath caught in her throat. It was Daemon Targaryen.

“Your Grace,” Marisa quickly said, bowing at him.

He simply looked her up and down.

“My apologies, I did not know you’d be here”

His gaze fell on the book she had in her hand, “Interested in history?”

She looked down at the book and then at him, blinking rapidly, “Yes, I-” she stammered a bit and then took a breath. It was only Daemon Targaryen. “I simply believe that everyone should know the history of our kings”

Daemon chuckled at that. Someone who was not insipid, he thought. “Should you not me in your chambers, Lady…?”

“Marisa. Lady Marisa Hastwyck. I came only to fetch a book. I enjoy the library during the night, it is very quiet.”

“Uhm,” he hummed, his eyes returning to the book.

At the awkwards interaction, Marisa whispered “your grace” and excused herself, taking the book with her to her chambers. A shill ran up her spine as she remembered the indifference she saw in the Prince’s eyes. But then pity took its place. Marisa knew his reputation, but he had lost his wife and been left with two young girls. She couldn’t imagine the pain of losing someone she loved and vowed to be with for the rest of her life.

That was the very first interaction she had with the Prince, but certainly not the last.

***

The King held a five day feast for his older daughter, the heir to the throne, to celebrate her name day. The only good thing about this was that her parents were to attend.

“Quickly Helia, my parents must be arriving!”, she urged her handmaid to help her with her hair.

“Calm yourself,”

“I am calm. I just,” tears formed in her eyes, “I just miss them so much. Perhaps they’ll allow me to return home!”

Her bright smile of hope and high dreams of fantasy was only that - a fantasy. Helia looked at her with pity, for she knew that the girl’s fate - the same girl she helped raise - was to be nothing more than a broodmare. And it made her bones freeze.

Marisa stood waiting for her family with a bright smile, and as soon as saw her family’s sigil she could barely hold herself in place. How she missed seeing her brother and sister! It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Until her mother’s rigid face looked at hers, the weight suddenly fell back on top of her. In all these moons, her mother had only written to her to ask if she had caught the eye of any men. Despite the sadness that was now filling her, Marisa decided to put it aside and hug her brother and father. All the words of kindness and happiness that parents should hold for their children were lost in her mother’s stone cold heart. 

“Stand up straight!” Lady Lydia spat at her daughter who quickly lost the small smile she held.

“Ignore her,” her brother whispered in her ear, “she has been nasty since-” he laughed “since ever”

Marisa giggled at that, holding her brother’s arm. “How come your wife didn’t join you?”

“Mother didn’t think she should”

“Isn’t it more disgraceful for you to come to the capital without your wife than to show she is a commoner?”

“It should be, but I was happy she wouldn’t be subjected to hours in a carriage with mother”

Loud horns sounded and Marisa jumped frightened, holding her brother tighter. The King and Queen approached the family. They all quickly bowed to them.

“Murrel! Welcome to my court!” the King greeted his old friend.

“Your Grace, what a pleasure to return.” he turned to the Queen “My Queen, a pleasure to see you again” 

“Welcome back Lord Murrel, and your family”

“Come, let us talk while your daughter talks with her mother and brother.”

As they leave, she notices the queen’s sad gaze on her. A small smile graces her lips as she walks towards them. “Lady Lydia, welcome to court. It has been a while.”

“Your grace,” she bows again, “thank you for the invitation.”

“Of course. You are friends of the crown, therefore, always welcome. Lady Marisa is a delight to have in court”

“Thank you, your grace.” 

The rest of the morning was spent with her mother continuously asking questions and giving her a hard time. Even poor Helia had to listen as her Lady scolded her for not encouraging Marisa to be in court more often than hiding in her chambers or with septas. “I wonder where your father is,” she kept repeating. As Marisa looked at her family, she realized how alone she had been back home, and how alone she was now. 

Upon her father’s return, he and her mother locked themselves in their chambers, leaving their two older children outside to wander as they pleased.

“Show me everything,” Tommen pleaded as they roamed the Keep. They started in the library, moved to the Tapestries and the Godswood, to lastly stand looking at the training grounds - Tommen’s favorite place.

“What do you think? Is it everything you expected?”

His eyes shined looking at the swords and armors, “more. So much more that I won’t even allow myself to wonder what mother and father are talking about”

“I would like to know,” she pouted, unsure of what it could be.

His smile vanished and he kept his eyes low, “Mar…”

“I would!” She repeats, “I have behaved well.”

“Of course you have, you always do. But mother sent you here with one goal in mind.”

“To find a husband for me.”

He nodded, and upon seeing how sad she was, he took her hand and told her to watch as they trained. Tommem explained every move as if she had interesse, as long as she forgot her fate. She hated violence, but her brother’s effort put a smile on her face.

Men cheering made them both look down to see someone walk in. 

“Who is that?” Tommen asked.

The man looked up and then took his sword.

“That’s Prince Daemon Targaryen”

Let me know if you liked it, and if you want to be added to the taglist! The first chapter is different than the rest will be, it's just a little starting point. I wanted you to understand the dynamics between the Hastwyck family.

Taglist:

@marihoneywk @toxicberrie @snowtargaryen @bellstwd @pet1t3 @watercolorskyy @hypocritic-trash-baby @marvelescvpe @jasenialovesjinx @msmorningstaarr @angeliod @dornishannie @ewwwitsel @billyloomiswife827289301

[writtingforfun]

Prey or Prayer?

Marisa Hastwyck x Daemon Targaryen

Summary:

Lady Marisa Hastwyck, of House Hastwyck of the Reach. First born daughter of Lord Murrel Hastwyck and Lady Lydia Hightower, second born child of the couple.

Married to Prince Daemon Targaryen after the untimely death of Lady Laena Velaryon. Married at the young age of fourteen and a mother at fifteen. 

Her relationship with her step-daughters was strained and very one-sided. 

A dutiful wife and mother, caring and loving person to all. A devout of the Faith of the Seven, her only comfort on the days the bed was left cold, even if her husband laid next to her.

The very persistent shadow of the Princess Rhaenyra hunted both their bedchambers and their own hearts and souls.

Sorry for how long it's been, first chapter coming today. It's a very small one, very introdutory. From the second forward it'll be better.

Taglist:

@marihoneywk @toxicberrie @snowtargaryen @bellstwd @pet1t3 @watercolorskyy @hypocritic-trash-baby @marvelescvpe @jasenialovesjinx @msmorningstaarr @angeliod @dornishannie @ewwwitsel @billyloomiswife827289301

[writtingforfun]

Daemon Targaryen

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON S1 → S2

[writtingforfun]

reblog if ur currently scrolling tumblr to procrastinate writing ur fanfic

[writtingforfun]

Are we alright??? Just checking

Because I am having a heart attack. LIKE-

HOW BEAUTIFUL IS THE TEASER 🛐🛐

[writtingforfun]

Pray or Prayer?

The Queen became a constant company of Lady Marisa whenever she prayed. They’d enjoy tea and talk about the gossip of court, something they kept between the Queen’s solar doors.

Alicent saw her younger self in the girl beside her. She too had been a young girl forced to marry a man old enough to be their father. Everytime she looked into Marisa's eyes, she saw the dutiful young girl she had been.

"It's not so bad. I know you feel more lonely than ever, but you have honored your House, and you have gained children. It is a dificult world for women which is why we must stand together," the Queen said with a warm smile as she held Marisa's hand.

They kept their bond of friendship, and even sweet Helaena joined them in their conversations.

I'm sorry for how long it's taking, it's almost done Do you want me to create a tag list for this fic?

[writtingforfun]

writing is the most insane hobby it's like,

is it easy? no

is it fast? also no

but is it fun? well,

[writtingforfun]

Prey or Prayer?

Before their marriage reached one year, Lady Marisa welcomed her first child with her lord husband, Prince Daemon, alone. After hours of labour with her husband nowhere to be found, a little boy was placed in her arms. Three hours after the birth, Prince Daemon walked inside the room where his wife sat with their son in her arms. Lady Marisa learned in that moment that it would only be her and her sweet boy alone in the world, but she also learned that nothing could ever be as wonderful as the feeling of being that little bundle's mother. Prince Aerion would grow to be his mother's loyal defensor, picking many fights with his father and making sure to always kiss his mother's cheek and make her smile.

Not one year after the birth of Aelor, came another boy, Prince Daemion.

Both boys grew to be inseperable and where one went, the other was sure to be following behind. Daemion was softer than his brother, and even though he always agreed with Aerion, his love and towards his father didn't allow him to be as angry as Aerion.

But Daemon loved his children more than anything; they were the very best of him. It broke his heart each time Aerion yelled at him and spoke three words no father would ever want to hear - "I hate you".

But he was right, he was a terrible husband and father, and he could only hope that his children wouldn't hate him enough to never speak to him, - he always dreamt of being like his father...

First chapter is almost out...