#4748

[every-tome]

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #4748:

Being a victim does not make you free from criticism.

I won't name names here, but this has been beginning to bug me. Basically, there's a youtuber I used to follow when I was younger (Let's call them "Barry"), but I stopped watching them a long time ago due to losing interest in their kind of content and for other reasons I'll get into in a bit. However, Barry caught my attention again recently by calling out a group of people who severely bullied them years ago. And though I can fully acknowledge that what they went through was shitty, and the offending parties deserve any and all criticism that comes their way...howeevvverrr Barry isn't exactly the most innocent person either. And I hate the fact that people are going out of their way to kiss Barry's feet just because they're technically a victim.

The reason why I stop watching Barry's content is because i kind of realized they're… Kind of an asshole?

- Barry will often make fun of those who can't take criticism, yet can't seem to take criticism themselves by making condescending remarks towards the critic, or just flat out ignore it.

- Barry openly defended other youtubers who said and did really shitty things. Like one dude who falsely accused a person of being a p#dophile with 0 evidence, another person who bullied someone else off Twitter, and someone else who encouraged the harassment of a small-time artist just because "something something, they're art iz filled wiff da cwingiez"

- Barry themselves also said/did some (for lack of better words) shady things in the past, too. And it's not limited to just defending shitty people, either. Saying things like women owe their male benefactors sexual favors, constantly sticks their nose in other people's business' where it doesn't belong (I.E making videos on topics and people that are NONE of their business), and will frequently throw their friends under the bus if they're the ones being called out for something they got wrong in their videos. On top of that, they also delete older videos that might make themselves look bad.

So what's the point of me explaining all this? Well, after Barry made their video exposing the previously mentioned bullies, people are suddenly acting like they can do no wrong and that they're just an innocent little baby angel who can't be criticized again forever and evers. <3<3

TO HELL WITH THAT! Just because certain people have been mistreated in the past doesn't mean we should sweep anything they did wrong under the rug. I was bullied when I was a kid too, but that doesn't give me the right to act like a dickhead, does it? It's funny Barry called out the bullies for making excuses for their own poor behavior, but now others are doing the exact same thing on Barry's behalf. It's not just them either, I've seen the same thing happen to people like politicians and celebrities as well. It's insane, as it is hypocritical.

- TL;DR: being a victim of something bad is not an instant "get out of jail" free card. I really wish more people knew that.

[fredericbrumby]

Devanture

Rue de Stalingrad

38300

Bourgoin Jallieu

4748

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Tending Each Other's Wounds: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week, we have wound tending! Check under the cut for seven fics about caring for each other's wounds or injuries, and don't forget to comment and kudos if you like them!

Hold Me Close, Cut Me Deep by catgirlthecrazy (14192, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Essek gets a "light them up pretty" moment against Caleb

Reccer says: I liked it!

the only way out is through the ditch by SaltCore (6969, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death

Caleb and Essek have a Wrath of Khan moment (they get better)

Reccer says: Heartbreakingly cathartic

it's strange what desire will make foolish people do by GammaRey (3479, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb gives Essek stitches.

Reccer says: I liked it!

The Only Way Out Is Through by Oliphaunt1089 (24150, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Serious injury, whump, drowning

During their research trip to Aeor Caleb and Essek are trapped with no magic and numerous dangers.

Reccer says: I liked it!

wishing for rain as I stand in the desert by SweetSilentSteps (4748, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

After a fight with some bandits in Tal'dorei turns sour, Essek runs to the safety of Caleb's Rexxentrum home.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Everything in Aeor Is Fine by mousecookie (18017, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek discover something in the depths of Aeor that warps the mind

Reccer says: Fascinating concept and well written!

Painted Across Your Skin by LessAttitudeMoreAltitude (1683, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

In recovering from a bloody encounter, Essek gets a glimmer of Caleb's past

Reccer says: I liked it!

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with pwp (plot what plot)!

[oneterabyteofkilobyteage]

original url http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Parthenon/4748/ last modified 2008-05-23 02:09:54

[vamptits]

you checked the meaning of words you already knew 4748 times.

you looked for synonyms to words you ended up using anyway 1028 times

you finished 4 fics

you abandoned 130 projects halfway through

you're in the top 0.1% users of the word "debauched". nice!

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (24/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 4748

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: Aemond, Arianwyn, and Queen Alicent race to find Brynna. Larys Strong informs them that she has been taken to the Throne Room by none other than Daemon, who claims that it was Brynna herself that attacked him the night before. Not only that, but he also accuses Aemond of forcing Arianwyn to marry him, and of raping her so that the marriage could not be dissolved.

Warnings: Violence.

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3 @trap-house-homiecide @50svibes @literishdegree99 @dc-marvel-girl96 @henriettadreaming @multiple-fandoms-girl @gyuxmilk @somemydayy @kittykylax @whore-of-many-hot-men

The Trial of Brynna Taler

Arianwyn had never craved violence. When she had tackled Rhaena years ago, all she wanted was to save Aemond. When she stabbed Daemon last night, it had been a desperate attempt to save her own life.

But now, as she frantically ran through the halls of the Red Keep in a dress borrowed from the Queen, she wanted nothing more than to feel her father’s blood running through her fingers.

If he had done anything to hurt Brynna, she did not know what she would do. Claw at his face, perhaps. Or rip every hair from his head. Gouge out his eyes. Take his sword and cut him in two, like he had done to Vaemond Velaryon. Command Emrys, the dragon he had once kept from her, to burn him alive.

Or maybe she would simply unleash Aemond upon him.

From the murderous glint in his eye and the hard set of his jaw, she knew that was the cruelest thing she could do.

Her husband would make him suffer for what he had done to her. By the time Daemon finally breathed his last, perhaps some small modicum of justice would have been served.

Arianwyn was torn from the fantasy of revenge when she rounded a corner and nearly slammed into Aemond’s back. She could not see why he had stopped, only that his hand was on the hilt of his sword, ready to defend his wife.

“Stand down, Aemond,” Alicent commanded, laying a soothing hand on his shoulder as she stepped around him.

Though he did not release his weapon, he did step aside, allowing Arianwyn to see Larys Strong, the Lord Confessor, standing before them.

Leaning heavily on his cane, the clubfooted Lord of Harrenhal looked over the harried group with a grimace. “I am afraid your presence is urgently required in the Throne Room, your Grace. Prince Daemon claims he has been attacked, and is demanding a trial immediately.”

“A trial?” Arianwyn asked, trapped somewhere between fear and hope. A trial meant that his attacker was alive, for corpse could not face judgment.

Larys’ dull blue eyes locked onto her face. “He has brought the accused – your long-serving maid, Brynna Taler – before the Hand and the Small Council.”

“Has he hurt her?” she asked, unable to keep her voice from breaking with terror.

Flicking his eyes to Aemond and to the sword on the Prince’s hip, Larys replied carefully. “Not grievously, my Lady.”

But the words offered no comfort. That Daemon had laid even a finger upon her was enough to set her tears flowing and a sob ripping from her wounded throat.

That single cry was more than enough for Aemond. He growled, drawing his blade as he pushed past the Lord Confessor.

Alicent followed him, shouting futilely for him to remain calm, with Arianwyn not far behind. Despite the relative warmth of the day, she pulled the fur stole the Queen had given her tighter around her neck to hide the grisly bruises that lay there.

Aemond could hardly see the path in front of him for the bloodlust surging through his veins. The fearful stares of courtiers and servants alike as he stalked through the halls of the keep were as inconsequential to him as rats in the gutter.

However, the words they whispered more frequent as they got closer to the Throne Room echoed through his mind.

“Do you think he really did it?”

“Of course not! He has only done what we have always expected.”

“It’s only that she’s been kept on that island that it hasn’t happened sooner.”

“That’s precisely what I mean! He’s been stewing in anger for all these years.”

“Perhaps since he could not have Lucerys’ eye, he took her instead.”

“She may have loved him once, but that was when they were, and he had no scar.”

“Would you really want that sharing your bed?”

“Gods, just look at him. Not even Maegor looked such a villain.”

“He did it. Of that, I have no doubt.”

Aemond would not react. He would not give them that satisfaction.

Still, he could not help but grip his sword tighter, until the skin of his knuckles ached with the effort. He could not stop his scar from burning, or the skin surrounding it from twitching. Nor could he stop his stomach from roiling, for despite Arianwyn’s ardent insistence in his continued beauty, he knew that the whispers were true.

To all but his wife, he was hideous – nothing more than a villain and a monster. 

The feeling of despair only deepened when he approached the open Throne Room doors and heard Daemon’s voice echoing throughout the hall.

“Arianwyn was distraught,” he said, voice wavering with fabricated despair as he addressed the growing crowd. “It is no wonder why. From the moment we arrived, Prince Aemond never once relented in trying to molest her before our very eyes – ”

His false tale of woe was cut short when the gathered crowd gasped as one at the sight of the One-Eyed Prince, the steel of his drawn blade gleaming in the dawn’s light, storming into the room, Daemon’s ‘distraught’ daughter close behind.

At the sight, Jace burst from his place by his mother’s side, drawing his own sword and pointing it toward Aemond’s chest.

“Release my sister!” he shouted, despite the fact that Aemond was clearly not holding her hostage.

“I am not your sister!” Arianwyn yelled back.

Aemond said nothing. He did, however, raise his own blade in reply as he took an offensive stance.

How dare Jacaerys call her ‘sister?’ What little blood they shared was thin, and tainted by his bastard birth. Perhaps if he had been more than Aegon’s boorish toady in their youth or been kinder to Arianwyn on Dragonstone, Aemond would not now be so eager for this fight.

Tilting his head in a silent dare for Jace to make the first move, Aemond could not help but wonder whether the Curse of the Kinslayer applied to bastard nephews.

But then Arianwyn screamed anew when she saw the woman kneeling before the Iron Throne.

“Brynna!”

Arianwyn pushed past the Queen, moving around Aemond and his outstretched sword. He reached his offhand out to stop her, but she brushed it aside.

“Take my hand, Arianwyn,” Jace whispered as she passed him.

She did not give him the courtesy of a reply or even a glance at his pleading face.

Daemon glared as she approached, but she did not face him either.

At the base of the Iron Throne, she tripped over the too-long skirts of Alicent’s dress, falling to her knees before her lady’s maid.

“Brynna, I’m so sorry,” she cried as she took in the woman’s wretched state.

A large purple bruise covered most of her face, from her split brow to her bleeding lip. Her nose was clearly broken, still marked with a dried river of blood.

But the worst of it was her hands. Her lithe, nimble hands that had crafted some of the finest dresses in the history of the Seven Kingdoms – including the dress that had become Arianwyn’s wedding gown.

Shattered.

Each finger bent and twisted, like the gnarled roots of an ancient tree. The skin was so red and bruised that Arianwyn could hardly see the countless cuts marking where Daemon’s stone had struck over and over and over again.

Arianwyn knew that while it was not by her own hand, she had done this. By angering her father, by stabbing him. The moment she married Aemond, she made everyone that she loved a target for Daemon’s wrath, and he had wasted no time in claiming his first victim.

“Oh, gods!” She cried, dropping her head to Brynna’s lap. “This is all my fault! I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

Through her throbbing pain, Brynna tried and failed to quiet Arianwyn’s frantic crying, but soon found herself sobbing along with the girl. She wanted nothing more than to stroke her silver curls, but her hands were in far too much pain. Besides, she would never wish to see her Lady marred with blood.

“It is not your fault,” Brynna whispered, voice hoarse from screaming.

Arianwyn did not believe her.

She would beg and beg for forgiveness until her voice gave out. Until her knees bled from kneeling, and her eyes were dry of tears. She would beg until the Mother herself appeared to offer her mercy, or until the Stranger took her away – though to the heavens or the hells, she did not know.

At the door, Aemond raised his sword level with Daemon’s heart as he strode past Jace. The young Prince moved to stop him but was pulled back by his mother.

It was Daemon who had done this. He had hurt his wife’s greatest friend. He had made Arianwyn cry. And he would pay for it.

But Daemon paid him no attention. Rather, he sighed, and with an expression of relief to rival the worst actors in King’s Landing, took a single step toward his daughter. “Arianwyn!” he cried, “How relieved I am to see you unharmed!”

Tearing her eyes from Brynna’s ruined hands, Arianwyn stared at her father, brow furrowed in bewilderment.

She had been harmed, and he was the one who had done it.

“Stay away from my wife,” Aemond growled, circling around his new father-by-law until he stood protectively between him and Arianwyn. He could feel the fiery rage in his heart hot on his breath, and could swear he heard Vhagar roaring in the distance.

“Was it not enough for you to steal my dear Laena’s dragon?” Daemon asked, brow crumpled with false heartache and a voice loud enough for everyone in the Throne Room to hear his words clearly. “Now, you must take my firstborn daughter, as well?”

“I have stolen nothing,” Aemond hissed, angling the point of his sword to Daemon’s neck. All it would take was one motion, one cut, and the Rogue Prince would never harm Arianwyn again. “Can you say the same, uncle?”

“Prince Aemond put down your sword!” Otto bellowed from the throne. “There will be no more blood spilled in this hall!”

But Aemond did not move, save for a twitch of the muscle in his jaw. Gods, his scar was blazing. It had not hurt like this since the night it was given to him.

“Despite that pin on your breast, Otto, you have no right to rule in this. It is a family matter,” Daemon spat, dropping his besieged father act.

Otto did not yield an inch, speaking calmly, with all the authority of the Iron Throne. “Indeed. Concerning my grandson and my great-niece. And seeing as how, in his absence, I speak with the voice of the King – your brother and Prince Aemond’s father –I have every right to rule on this family matter. Don’t you agree, Lord Wylde?”

The Master of Laws jumped slightly when his name was called, but he quickly collected himself and answered, “Yes, my Lord Hand.”

The only hint of Otto’s smugness was the nearly imperceptible twitch of a smile on his lips. “With that matter settled, we can begin the proceeding. Prince Aemond, I will not repeat myself again. Put. Down. Your. Sword.”

Against all instinct and every nerve in his body, Aemond obeyed. Though he did not sheath the blade, nor did he move away from his wife.

Alicent finally moved away to the door to the foot of the dais, joining a concerned Helaena and a hungover but intrigued Aegon.

As she passed Rhaenyra and her children, the Princess and the Queen exchanged a look that Aemond could not decipher.

The Hand sighed, gesturing with an open palm to Brynna. “Grand Maester, for the love of the Mother, will you please tend to this poor woman?”

Daemon seethed, “That ‘poor woman’ has attacked a Prince of the Realm!”

“I have not!” Brynna shouted.

“She did not!” Arianwyn yelled simultaneously, with such a cold fury that she was sure she bore icy claws. Emrys’s howling echoed through her mind as she pulled away from her maid, only enough to allow Orwyle the access he needed to assess her wounds.

Orwyle examined Brynna quickly, then looked back to Arianwyn and gave a slight smile. She will recover, he seemed to say. She may not be the same, but she will recover.

But Arianwyn’s heart was hollow, and she could not return the gesture. Brynna would not recover if she was soon executed.

Once he was satisfied that Brynna’s wounds were being tended to, Otto lowered himself upon the Iron Throne. “Prince Daemon,” he said, “If you are quite finished with your performance, the Crown will now hear your accusation.”

Daemon bit the inside of his cheek, mulling over whether to respond to the Hand’s remark. Deciding against that, he once again painted his face with fatherly concern. “After our family meal last night, I went to check in on Arianwyn. She had been so upset when she left, after seeing her dear brother attacked by none other than the man who had treated her with such unabashed vulgarity all evening.”

Arianwyn looked up at Aemond, begging with wet eyes for him to speak in his own defense. But he only continued to glare at Daemon, for the comforting thought of spilling his uncle’s blood was the only thing distracting him from the pain searing through his very skull.

Unchallenged, Daemon continued. “When I reached her rooms, this woman,” he pointed at Brynna as he spoke, drawing the court’s attention to her, “was at the door. She would not allow me entry to my own daughter’s chambers.

“First, she told me that Arianwyn was unwell. Then, that she was asleep. When she had run out of excuses, I demanded she stand aside to let me through. But she would not. So, I went to push past her. That is when she took her shears and did this.” He tossed the bloodstained iron shears to the floor, and tore off the linen wrapping around his right hand before raising it above his head for all to see.

A large gash was visible in the space between his thumb and forefinger. As Daemon turned to present his hand to those behind him, Aemond was gratified to see the wound was wide enough for a beam of sunlight to shine through the hole. When this was over, he would have to congratulate his wife on a job well done.

“I, of course, was able to subdue her even with the wound, and she quickly revealed the sinister scheme.” Daemon grinned at Aemond as he went on, “The Prince here paid her quite handsomely to sneak him into our guest quarters, that he might steal her away for his own. He forced Septon Eustace to wed them. And then, I imagine, he raped her so the marriage could not be dissolved on account of a failed consummation.”

Arianwyn’s mind was spinning. From the audacity of Daemon’s lies. From her disbelief that in the face of such slander, Aemond continued to stay silent. From the conflicting whispers swirling around her.

“The most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“Look at the cold look in his eye. He knows he’s been exposed.”

“I have known them since they were children. Prince Aemond could never hurt her.”

“He should be gelded without delay, and sent to the Wall to rot.”

A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. How could they believe such lies? Daemon’s own demons were well known, as were Aemond’s virtues. At least, they had been when she had left the capital. What had changed since then, beyond the scar now marking his face?

If enough of the court was so quick to believe Daemon’s story, what could she possibly say to sway them?

Her only salvation was that it was the Hand sitting the Iron Throne, not the King.

“An interesting story, my Prince,” Otto said, not a hint of emotion or bias in his voice. “Though I am afraid I find myself with several questions regarding its details.”

Daemon scowled, unable to keep the disdain from his eyes. “And what, pray tell, are your questions?”

“I think we should start at the beginning, don’t you? With Prince Aemond’s behavior at the King’s dinner.” Otto raised his eyebrows, the only hint of his confidence. “You see, my Prince, I was seated closer to him and Arianwyn than you were, and yet I saw no such evidence of molestation, attempted or otherwise.”

When Daemon opened his mouth to counter him, the Hand simply continued, “Though I may be mistaken. Perhaps we should ask the Princess Helaena, who was herself seated at Arianwyn’s side, what she saw?”

Daemon scowled, but did not object as Alicent encouraged Helaena.

“My sweet girl,” the Queen whispered, “can you tell us what you saw between Aemond and Arianwyn?”

Helaena, at last seeming to realize where she was, glanced between her brother and his wife. When she saw Arianwyn crying on the floor and Aemond clutching his sword, she looked mildly concerned at their predicament. “I saw love, gentle and true. As it has always been.”

For a moment, the Princess smiled proudly, but it faded as a shadow passed over her lilac eyes. “Shattered glass,” she murmured, “the silver shards sharper than the blunt point of the broken blade.”

Not even Daemon had a clever answer for the seemingly meaningless words.

But in the silence that followed, Arianwyn looked closely at her cousin as the fog cleared from Helaena’s eyes. At the dinner, she had said something about a cloak – a white cloak – in the moonlight.

Had she somehow known?

Perhaps more importantly, what did she know now?

“But these are the small details of your tale, Prince Daemon. Indeed, they may be crucial to its veracity, but whether or not a lady was molested can be quite easily mistaken by even the most perceptive among us.” A tentative laugh went up among some of the gathered crowd, and the Hand let it run its course before he continued.

“Let us focus instead on the larger picture. For that, it seems we are missing the most important testimony. Arianwyn?”

Otto’s question broke her from her musings on what Helaena’s words might mean. He tipped his chin, and she was surprised to find reassurance in the gesture. “Please stand and tell us what happened – but speak only the truth.”

Those words, spoken to her once before, long ago, brought Arianwyn back to the Throne Room on Driftmark. She was kneeling at Aemond’s side, pressing kisses to his trembling hand only moments after his eye was taken. She could feel Rhaena’s nails scratching her skin, the heat of Aemond’s fresh blood flowing through her fingers, and her aching chest wheezing for breath. She was drowning in desperation as she begged the King to believe her tale.

How had it come to this again?

“Aemond has done nothing untoward,” she said as she stood on shaking legs. How she wished he were within reach so she could hold onto him for strength. “Nor has Brynna. But the Prince and I are indeed wed, and our union has been consummated – willingly.”

As she spoke, Arianwyn felt her confidence grow. She steadied herself and stepped towards Aemond, lacing her fingers through his. He startled at the touch, for she had approached him from the left. But he relaxed and sheathed his sword when he saw the plea in her eyes.

“Septon Eustace can attest to the veracity of the marriage,” she said, looking only at her husband. “My household guard, Grand Maester Orwyle, Ser Criston Cole, and my maid Brynna, all bore witness. Orwyle confirmed the consummation this morning.”

When Daemon scoffed, Otto held up a hand to silence him. The Prince looked for a moment as though he may argue, but he was pulled back by his own wife taking his hand. Rhaenyra gave him a stern look, whispered something in his ear, and he stilled.

“My dear, why wed in such haste? And in near complete secrecy?” Otto asked.

Arianwyn considered her words carefully. She knew Otto wanted her to tell the court everything – but he could not possibly know what he was asking.

Someday, Daemon would pay for his crimes. But today, all Arianwyn wanted was to free Brynna and remain by her husband’s side.

“Aemond and I have been in love these many long years, even when separated,” she said. The truth, even if she had only just learned it. “We did not want to wait any longer for our families to negotiate a marriage contract or allow them to promise us to anyone else.”

That was a lie. But by the faces in the crowd, it was at least a good one.

“I apologize for any pain our impatience has caused,” Arianwyn continued, bowing her head toward Alicent, Helaena, and Aegon. “We have deprived our family of seeing us wed and all the celebration that comes with it.”

Aegon smiled, raising his brows, “I had but one chance to bring my brother’s wife to bed, and I have missed it,” he muttered.

Suppressing a grin, Arianwyn went on. “We married out of love, my Lord Hand. There is no more to say than that.”

The Hand again smiled at her, “Thank you, Arianwyn.”

She began to curtsy, but Aemond held her still. “You are a Princess now,” he murmured, “You need not bow to him anymore.”

“Septon Eustace,” Otto said, turning to face the man, “You performed the marriage?”

The Septon nodded. “I did, my Lord Hand.”

“And did the Lady Arianwyn show any reticence during the ceremony? Did she appear nervous or afraid?”

“No, my Lord Hand,” Eustace replied. “She was as happy as any bride I have ever seen. Happier, perhaps.”

Arianwyn blushed, squeezing Aemond’s hand. She could feel his heart racing through the contact and wished desperately to calm him. But he would not be satisfied until Brynna was free, and Daemon was not.

He was a dragon who had caught the scent of his prey, and he would not let it go free.

“Grand Maester,” Otto now plainly bore a smile as he turned to Orwyle, “can you indeed confirm the consummation?”

“I can indeed, my Lord Hand.”

“And can anyone else attest to Brynna Taler’s presence at the ceremony?” The Hand glanced around the room until he found twelve knights clad in bronze armor.

But it was Ser Criston Cole who answered. “I can, my Lord Hand.” He looked to Prince Daemon with an expression of pure disdain. “I would swear my sword to it.”

“I thank you, Ser Criston, but I wager that will not be necessary.” Otto finally smiled as he swept his eyes past Arianwyn to his grandson. “Prince Aemond, is there anything you should like to say to the court?”

Aemond finally tore his eye away from Daemon, gaze softening as he looked upon Arianwyn’s beautiful, hopeful face. There was much he wanted to say. He wanted to tell the whole court – the whole world – of Daemon’s crimes. He wanted to see him arrested and face the Father’s justice. And when he was executed, he wanted to be the one to swing the sword.

But Arianwyn saw it all on his face, every sinful thought he had. She pulled him towards her, wrapping her hand around his wrist, and shook her head.

“No,” Aemond sighed. “Only that everything my wife has said is the truth.”

The Hand turned back to Daemon, “Well, my Prince. It seems that matter is settled. But there is still the question of your wound. Would you care to offer the court another explanation as to how you were injured?”

The Rogue Prince was practically steaming with rage. The sight awoke a feeling of sinister pleasure within Arianwyn’s heart. That feeling, combined with the strength she drew from her husband’s touch, had her hands moving to the stole around her neck before she could think better of it.

“Perhaps he could explain this as well,” she said, pulling the fabric from her throat and exposing her wounds for all to see.

A gasp rippled through the crowd at the sight of her bruises, and the anger in her father’s eyes sharpened. Arianwyn only smiled.

Daemon snarled, “The work of your new husband, obviously.”

Arianwyn laughed. A light, blithe chuckle – wholly out a place at such a solemn occasion. “I think you’ll find my husband’s hands too large to make such small marks,” she said with an animalistic tilt of her head.

Aemond suddenly felt the urge to take her, right there and then. She had always had such fire within her, though it was rare that she let anyone but him see its glow. How he longed to burn in that delicious fire.

On the Iron Throne, Otto smiled proudly at the newest Targaryen Princess. He had thought her as harmless as Helaena, but perhaps she would prove more of an asset in the days to come. “Well, Prince Daemon? Have you any explanation for the court?”

Daemon only sneered before Rhaenyra stepped in front of him, cutting off whatever biting remark he surely had planned.

“I think we have heard more than enough,” Rhaenyra said, the same forced diplomacy in her voice as the night before. “I suggest, my Lord Hand, that we dismiss this matter entirely, as the unfortunate result of an excess of wine at dinner.”

Otto nodded, content in his victory – one more trueborn Targaryen, and one more dragon.

“Grand Maester Orwyle,” he commanded, “please take the lady Brynna to the Rookery tower and give her your greatest care. Dear lady, you have the sincere apology of the Crown, as well as my personal assurance that you will be compensated for your troubles.”

“Thank you, my Lord Hand,” Brynna said. Then, with the aid of the Maester, Brynna stood and curtseyed. Then, as she was led out of the Throne Room, she flashed a quick grin at Arianwyn – a promise that she would find her soon and that she wanted every detail of the bedding.

Arianwyn was practically overcome with relief. As her breath heaved, she felt the warmth of Aemond’s hand holding hers climb up her arm and spread throughout her entire body. Aemond focused on the feel of her pulse slowing, the pain in his face fading with each beat of her heart.

For long moments, the only sounds in the hall were the gossiping whispers of the court. Those who could not believe that Daemon had lied were evenly matched with those who could not believe Aemond had gotten away with his crimes.

But they were soon silenced when Rhaenyra again spoke. “My Queen, my Lord Hand. I thank you for your kindness and hospitality. But I am afraid we must now take our leave.”

“We hope to see you again soon, Princess,” Alicent replied, sincerity in her eyes.

With a quick nod, Rhaenyra turned her gaze to Arianwyn and Aemond, giving a smile that did not reach her eyes. “Before we go, I would like to offer my best wishes to my dear stepdaughter and her new husband.”

Aemond again tensed, but Arianwyn kept her grip on his hand firm. “Thank you, stepmother,” she said without returning the smile.

Rhaenyra stood in silence, apparently expecting the same grandiosity for the departure as she had for her arrival. But just as before, she would not receive it. So finally, after several awkward minutes, she relented and led her family from the hall.

Only Baela stayed behind to embrace her sister before going. “I am so happy for you,” she whispered.

“I will see you soon,” Arianwyn promised. “Perhaps for your own wedding?”

Tears coming to her eyes, Baela only grinned and nodded before following her family out of the Throne Room and the Red Keep.

Though she was surrounded by her family – the true family she had missed for so long – Arianwyn felt a sliver of emptiness creep into her heart as she watched her sister leave.

But then she felt her husband’s strong arms wrap around her, and all was right.

“If you would excuse us, my Lord Hand,” she said, not looking at the man atop the Iron Throne but at Aemond’s lips. “But my husband and I have yet to break our fast, and I find myself feeling quite hungry.”

Next Chapter

[carro179]

Fundraisers from my ask box:

Reminder that I cannot donate. I can only share them

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[sexylonestar]

Sock # 4748

[milliesfishes]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGdJPjPcr/ billy

I AM GOING TO CRY

and yes Billy :(((( whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed or upset about something 😭😭😭 I watched this vid like 4748 times

[damnfandomproblems]

4748: THANK YOU. See way too many "victims of (insert bad thing)" acting like total monsters and screaming about how no one should write about those bad things. Nah, at some point you gotta take responsibility for your own actions especially once you start impacting other people badly. Your fist ends where my nose begins.

Posting as a response to a previous problem.

[takeuchiitsuka]

#4748 Copyright © Takeuchi Itsuka. All Rights Reserved.

[ao3feed-nanago]

weekend off

by moonlightsonata (mintedcaffeine) Satoru is human, he knows. The man just has no sense of boundaries when it comes to himself — limitless burns under his flesh like gasoline. Limitless power, limitless energy, and limitless work.   (Or; Gojo gets sick after working himself to the bone, but it’ll be fine. Probably. He can deal with that.) Words: 4748, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi, Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuuji, Ieiri Shoko, Getou Suguru (mentioned) Relationships: Gojo Satoru/Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi & Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru & Ieiri Shoko, Gojo Satoru & Itadori Yuuji, Gojo Satoru & Kugisaki Nobara, Getou Suguru & Gojo Satoru (mentioned) Additional Tags: set loosely pre-shibuya, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Caretaking, Sickfic, Sick Gojo Satoru, Soft Nanami Kento, Ieiri Shoko is a Good Friend, Gojo Satoru Acting as Fushiguro Megumi's Parental Figure, POV Multiple, Overworking, Blood and Injury, very mild though, Sleep Deprivation, Whump, Delirium, Comfort, Hurt Gojo Satoru, Itadori Yuuji is a Ray of Sunshine via https://ift.tt/98ykSip

[somecunttookmyurl]

There's too much to show it all in one post so you'll just have to click though to see the rest of this week's new item drop

https://purlescent.sumupstore.com/products?category=4ca52a65-9c9d-4748-8f08-f83b7aa717d5&page=1

*All slashers phone straps remade, and with the addition of new Billy the Puppet and Pennywise variants

*The sea critter bracelet is also back

*Pokémon bracelets

*Various other beaded bracelets

*Plaster bee storage tub and resin moth wall plaque

*Bat hair grips

*A variety of new earrings

Organisational change:

*Addition of "Horror Collection" and "Sanrio Collection" categories. Those items will no longer show up in other general categories bc I can only assign things to one category at a time which is a pain but what can you do.

*Consequently badges and keychains have been merged into one section

@caged-deviant since you asked

[aliettali]

I wanna know more about your clone ocs!

thank you so much for asking this you have opened the floodgates i am so sorry! 

i have nine: tidbit, crypt, oops, flipside, sher, intel, three-two, pint, and dangle. i’ve only (officially) drawn crypt and tidbit so far, but i do have a sketch for oops that i’ll be putting in here as reference. it is also worth mentioning that only crypt and tidbit are actually alive - the others all died so they dont have as much lore!

everyone except tidbit (crypt + co) are batchmates. the large majority of them die before they can individualize so they don’t have many unique designs my bad! also they’re all relatively young- i’d like to think that they’re fresh out of kamino and get assigned to the 501st on umbara almost immediately. and that goes SPLENDID (all of them die except for crypt, who is left to deal with losing every single one of his batchmates within a single campaign)

putting things under a "keep reading" section because it gets pretty long

crypt ct-4342:

well he WAS going to be a medic and them umbara fucked him up so severely (physically and mentally) that he couldnt deal w the hypothetical consequences of having blood on his hands anymore

now hes a slicer (he goes back to get medic certified because he does want to save people but that’s a separate character arc) 

honestly i signed him up for bad things happen bingo and he just has to deal with it

doesnt get a name until after umbara, chose it because a) encryption, slicing reference b) crypt -> grave -> his brothers never got one

facial/corneal scarring that holds his right eye slightly open+ some hearing loss that he makes up for with (unsanctioned) modifications to his bucket. outer arm scarring too because he shielded his head

tidbit ct-2719:

field medic ! hes also a little bitch but a) older and b) aware of concepts such as “emotional maturity” and “compartmentalization” so he’s doing ok 

he and crypt hit it off pretty quickly because it took him exactly three whole days of being stationed w the 501st to sprain an ankle by doing a cartwheel on a sloped floor (dangle dared him to)... but he was polite and nice and compliant in the medbay which is rare

theyre the most brother figures to ever i love them dearly

anyway tidbit keeps his hair short because he got fed up w it getting in his face when leaning over people you know how it is. never plans on getting a tattoo because he’s seen too many people in the medbay with ink related infections for that to happen, settles for hair bs instead

got his name because he tells his patients random bullshit to distract them

mostly closed off bc he’s seen a lot of troopers die (he cares far too much and it’s becoming a problem) and if he can’t save them in time then it means he’s losing those he loves because of his own incompetence

oops ct-4748 (dies on umbara): 

this motherfucker decided to catch an activated thermal detonator and tossed it back so late that he burnt his eyebrows off permanently (he also has burns on his hand but they wear gloves)

the only thing he said was “oops” so that’s his brand now

overall he was a pretty chill guy too bad he died saving crypt 

(he dies draped on top of crypt, who wakes up half thinking that they’re back on kamino in a batch pile but nope! oops is dead sher is dead pint is dead three-two is dead he can only pray that dangle and intel are alright) (crypt gets up and casts oops off and has to leave him behind, stumbling through a veritable graveyard, almost blind in one eye and teary-eyed in the other, and almost gets shot when he finally finds more troopers) (they’re the 212th but its okay they're alive and okay) (he gets through the disguise clusterfuck and crypt races over to tidbit to ask about dangle and intel) (they’re dead and gone and he has never been so alone)

flipside ct-4344 (dies on umbara):

little bitch, got his name because he really hated the kamino bunk pillows and kept flipping them over to get at the cooler side (he just ran really hot for no reason)

dies in a classic krell “push forward no matter the consequences” maneuver- he's the first of the batch to die actually good for him

was probably the closest to straight up defecting out of everyone

sher ct-4190 (dies on umbara):

the calm normal guy, he and intel are probably the reasons the batch got off kamino in the first place

slightly longer hair than regulation - he wanted to grow it out into a ponytail but guess what happened

was an older brother out of necessity but the others realized how hard he was taking it whenever any of them did something reckless and got hurt as a result so they toned it down a bit

forces crypt to go on without him when he gets shot and subsequently dies alone

he was going to be a sniper bc he always had steady hands (his batchmates always asked him to cut their hair for them) (he was trembling when he died) (i think he was too kind to survive much longer than that anyway)

intel ct-4223 (dies on umbara):

REALLY focused on making plans, the second most responsible

“guys, please, what’s the plan? we have intel for this test, we just watched the other group take it-”

“you and your intel. i say our plan is to FUCK IT and BALL” 

he and sher try really hard to manage the others. sadly kamino does not manufacture child leashes

gets killed on umbara like a good soldier who follows orders (krell tactics again)

he dies painfully aware of his own insignificance bc preciously he was driven by some hope that hey!!! if we get past this training/test/battle we won’t be forgotten but exactly three people end up remembering him as a person lmao (tidbit, crypt, rex)

i think he and dogma fucking hated each other

pint ct-4337 (dies on umbara):

the only one of them to have paint on their armor pre-umbara and thats through sheer bad luck - he walked into a room and kicked over a can of paint and got some of it on his boot toe

dies alongside intel

three-two ct-4332 (dies on umbara):

never chose a name, pretty withdrawn from the rest of his batch bc he, unfortunately, is hyperaware of his circumstances and what will happen to his brothers after the war

aggressively regulation haircut

as soon as intel and pint are killed in front of him he realizes that they might not matter in the long run but his brothers wormed their ways into his heart and now they're gone before he even chose a name. he didnt even get to tell them his name and they're dead (messes up and gets shot moments later)

dangle ct-4322 (dies on umbara):

suspiciously flexible, probably hypermobile, loved dangling (!) from the top bunk with his legs on the bed and his entire upper body just. hanging there

saw shaak ti do a sick jedi trick ONCE and decided that was his brand so he liked practicing cartwheels and splits and backbends in his spare time

they didnt have music (cant have shit on kamino) so he hummed his own and imagined dances to them

dies on umbara ft the clone eating plant thing because he was under the impression that crypt was just killed

[ao3feed-ds9]

Like a prism (you bring colour to my life)

https://ift.tt/4gZBiYe by Lisetta888 Odo has escaped from the Bajoran Institute of Science, finally free and ready to make his own way. He just needs a ship, and he's ready to use... unorthodox methods. Quark is stuck on a Ferengi freighter as a cook, hoping for an opportunity when he finds a lost vole and starts taking care of it. I'm sure those two events are totally unrelated, right? Also, one last thing: it's the Mirror Universe. Words: 4748, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Mirror Odo (Star Trek), Mirror Kira Nerys, Mirror Quark (Star Trek) Relationships: Odo/Quark (Star Trek), Mirror Odo/Mirror Quark Additional Tags: One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Forced Relationship, Mirror Universe (Star Trek), Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, me???? writing a toxic yandere relationship??? who would have thought???? /s, there's also, Blood and Gore, because Mirror Odo cannot fucking control himself and kills a lot of people, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I will probably add more chapter to this, but no promises, pray for mirror Quark y'all, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence