#horrors of malformed men

[weirdlookindog]

Teruo Yoshida in Horrors of Malformed Men (Kyofu kikei ningen: Edogawa Rampo zenshû, 1969)

[japanese-movie-god-at-yahoo]

[lisaeldritch]

Can't help but stan the dad from that movie. Malformed, femme, and driven by spite. I love being represented in cinema.

[wonderfulstills]

The Horrors of Malformed Men

[ Teruo Ishii • 1969]

[goryhorroor]

What are some underrated horror films? I have watched all the popular ones and need more! Thanks!

mentally prepare yourself because im ready to give a gumbo list (this has been sitting in my inbox because i had to ask all my friends and this is the list we came up with):

curse of the demon (1957) the serpent and the rainbow (1988) paranoiac (1963) the old dark house (1932) countess dracula (1971) golem (1920) haxan (1968) island of lost souls (1932) mad love (1935) mill of the stone women (1960) the walking dead (1936) the ghoul (1933) tourist trap (1979) the seventh victim (1943) ganja & hess (1973) dead of night (1945) a bay of blood (1971) let's scare jessica to death (1971) alice sweet alice (1976) the deadly spawn (1983) the brain that wouldn't die (1962) all about evil (2010) black roses (1988) the baby (1973) parents (1989) a blade in the dark (1983) blood lake (1987) solo survivor (1984) lemora: a child's tale of supernatural (1973) eyes of fire (1983) epitaph (2007) nightmare city (1980) slugs (1988) death smiles on a murderer (1973) intruder (1989) short night of glass dolls (1971) the children (2008) alone in the dark (1982) end of the line (2007) the queen of spades (1949) the housemaid (1960) tormented (1960) captain clegg (1962) the long hair of death (1964) dark age (1987) the crawling eye (1958) the kindred (1987) the gorgon (1964) wicked city (1987) baba yaga (1973) 976-evil (1988) bliss (2019) decoder (1984) amer (2009) the visitor (1979) day of the animals (1977) leptirica (1973) planet of the vampires (1965) lips of blood (1975) berberian sound studio (2012) a wounded fawn (2022) matango (1963) the mansion of madness (1973) the killing kind (1973) symptoms (1974) morgiana (1972) whispering corridors (1998) dead end (2003) infested (2023) (this just came out but im adding it) triangle (2009) the premonition (1976) you'll like my mother (1972) the mafu cage (1978) white of the eye (1987) mister designer (1987) alison's birthday (1981) the suckling (1990) graveyard shift (1987) messiah of evil (1987) out of the dark (1988) seven footprints to satan (1929) burn witch burn (1962) the damned (1962) pin (1988) horrors of malformed men (1969) mr vampire (1985) the vampire doll (1970) contracted (2013) impetigore (2019) eyeball (1975) malatestas carnival of blood (1973) the witch who came from the sea (1976) i drink your blood (1970) nothing underneath (1985) sauna (2008) seance (2000) come true (2020) the last winter (2006) night tide (1961) the brain (1988) dementia (1955) don't go to sleep (1982) otogirisou (2001) reincarnation (2005) mutant (1984) spookies (1986) shock waves (1977) bloody hell (2020) the den (2013) wer (2013) olivia (1983) enigma (1987) graverobbers (1988) manhattan baby (1982) evil in the woods (1986) death bed: the bed that eats (1977) cathy's curse (1977) creatures from the abyss (1994) the dorm that dripped blood (1982) the witching (1993) madman (1981) vampire's embrace (1991) blood beat (1983) the alien factor (1978) savage weekend (1979) blood sisters (1987) deadly love (1987) playroom (1990) die screaming marianne (1971) pledge night (1990) night train to terror (1985) the devonsville terror (1983) ghostkeeper (1981) special effects (1984) blood feast (163) the child (1977) godmonster of indian flats (1973) blood rage (1980) the unborn (1991) screamtime (1983) the outing (1987) the being (1983) silent madness (1984) lurkers (1988) forver evil (1987) squirm (1976) death screams (1982) jack-o (1995) haunts (1976) a night to dismember (1983) creaturealm: demons wake (1998) the curse (1987) daddy's deadly darling (1973) nightwing (1979) the laughing dead (1989) the severed arm (1973) the orphan (1979) not like us (1995) prime evil (1988) the monstrosity (1987) dark ride (2006) antibirth (2016) iced (1988) the soultangler (1987) twisted nightmare (1987) puffball (2007) biohazard (1985) cameron's closet (1988) beast from haunted cave (1959) the she-creature (1956)

[love-minor-poltergeist]

A/N: I've only known this man for roughly a week and I want to pour milk on him and violently throw him against the wall (lovingly). While I'm not known to write for horror media, let alone for a franchise as brutal as Outlast, but I've been quite captivated by the Outlast Trials since the July 16th update. Because of course I would fixate on the hyperviolent mafioso with extreme mommy issues. _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_

General Franco Barbi Headcanons

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Loathe as he is to admit—  that is if he’s willing to acknowledge it— Franco and his father are far more alike than one would think. Both men share the same hair-trigger temper, a fondness for collecting artisan firearms, tastes in women… And who could forget that sailor’s mouth? 

Hell, prior to his exile, it became something of a running joke between the triggermen of the Barbi family. The minute they hear Franco and Don Barbi’s shared “FUCK”/“CAZZO”, they share a knowing look amongst themselves. Like father, like son.

Of course, they also take it as a warning to keep their heads down and quietly pray that lupara isn’t pointed their way.

His birth mother was killed long before he could even remember her. No one dared utter it aloud, but he knew why. He would’ve been downright stupid to think it was because of anything other than how he came out. Ugly. Malformed. Hell, his father certainly made it clear how he felt about his defective son whenever he got mad; and Franco’s got the scars to show it.

However, during one of Don Barbi’s infamous bouts of rage– fueled by alcohol and his ever-growing frustration over Franco’s reckless spree killings– he had let it slip that Franco resembled his late wife far more than he was comfortable with. 

Dark eyes– cold and vast like the deepest parts of the sea– regarded the crumpled form beneath him. Franco couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen then. He had just gotten back from a hit. Some rat bastard from another crime family; a lowly racketeer who thought he was hot shit. At least he did until he was filled with hot lead from lupara. Only thing was— his father just wanted the intended man dead. It was a simple request. And what did his ugly shithead fuck of a son do? Franco ends up massacring the whole bar he had tracked the man down to. Staff, patrons, and a band of musicians that were unluckily set to perform that night— a whopping thirteen other people on top of the measly single target the Don wanted. And the real fucking kicker? That very bar– dinky as it was– was under Barbi family protection. And they had paid handsomely for their services. 

All hell broke loose once Franco came home. The minute he stepped foot in his father’s office, the world became a blur of violent shouting and spat expletives. The walls and furniture shook with each slam as the Don punched and kicked at the younger man. Franco had tried to fight back, getting in a few nasty hits himself, but it was clear his father easily overpowered him. In a matter of minutes, his vision and lungs grew wet with blood. Everything hurt, and all young Franco could do was fight for air.

“You had one job, boy. One. Yet I find that we lost a paying customer— one that we’re supposed to protect. Making me look like the asshole for not keeping my word.” 

The older man crouched down, yanking Franco by the little patches of hair he had. The Don was baring his teeth now, eyes boring holes into his son. 

“You’re even lucky I let you live, you miserable waste of spunk,” he pulled harder on Franco’s hair, ignoring the latter’s grunt of pain. “I could have killed you in your crib. I should have.” 

He accentuated each word with a rough yank, and a particularly pathetic pained moan from Franco only made the Don slam his head into the floor. Hot, sticky crimson coated his broad fingers, and he regarded the now weeping visage of his son with disdain; as if he had found a piece of gum stuck to his shoe. A pregnant silence fell between the two. Nothing but the faint sounds of breathing filled the air. 

Then the Don spoke once more.

“Even now, you look just like your mother. Useless, bloodied, and soft.”

Don Barbi never did talk about his first wife again after that incident. Not that Franco ever cared. He never knew her. Though, he did faintly hear from a few of his father’s older associates that he shared his mother’s eyes, or that he had the same hair as her. One man even said that had Franco been born normal, he would’ve been the spitting image of her. 

Said man was later found in the alley between a bar and sundry store. Discarded within a dumpster and body absolutely mangled. 

Once, when he was around maybe ten years old or so, his father had tried to take him to the dentist in order to get braces. Something to fix up those “broken piano keys” he had, as his father put it. Franco didn’t even last a half hour before a capo had to come pick him up because the boy went and bit the finger clean off of the poor dental assistant that tried to get him ready. 

He has some breathing problems, going off what could be heard within the trials. If he’s not yapping off, he could be heard heavily panting and straining to catch his breath. It’s nowhere near bad enough to be considered asthmatic, but Franco’s definitely not winning any marathons, that’s for sure. Not that his little baby legs would let him-

Absolutely refuses to drink anything that isn’t sweet enough to send a bear into a diabetic coma. If he doesn’t have his thermos of wolf’s milk on him, he’s dumping a whole bowl’s worth of sugar into whatever’s given to him. He doesn’t care if it's already been sweetened. He needs it sweeter.

Murkoff’s budgeting department is at their wit’s end and it is absolutely Franco’s fault. Does he care? Of course not. He deserves nice things and it’s a travesty that someone of his status is forced to live in squalor. About a week after he’s been taken to Sinyala, a special budget ends up being put aside for him. He goes over said budget every time. No, he won’t stop, either. He is a luxury that few could afford.

The first thing he demanded for his living space was the fanciest phonogram Murkoff could get and some records. He didn’t particularly like juke boxes– he thought them too flashy and that they usually played the same boring tunes. Usually if you walk by his containment unit, you'd hear the rich, dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, and the occasional Engelbert Humperdinck.

Don’t ever take him to the beach for too long. He usually forgets to put on sunscreen and ends up sunburnt at the end of the day. It’s one of the few things he doesn’t miss about Miami/Cuba. 

Small dogs hate him. His stepmom Angelina owned a few pomeranians. He and the little bastards never got along. It wasn’t all too uncommon to walk in on him telling one of them to fuck off whenever they bit at the pant leg of his suit. He’s held a vendetta against all tiny dogs ever since. 

While he may not look like it, he’s quite fond of the ocean. He enjoyed the boat rides he took to and from Cuba, and would occasionally fish if time was passing by a bit slow. Though he didn’t do it very often thanks to bastardly seagulls and pelicans trying to bully him for whatever he caught. 

Would probably own an aquarium of tropical fish if Murkoff trusted any of their test subjects with a living thing under their care. When he was younger, Franco’s father had an associate who owned a giant tank full of brightly-colored tetras, cherry barbs, and guppies. And while his dad sat through boring talks, Franco would usually watch the little things dart around in the water.

Speaking of, he’s particularly fond of ranchu goldfish. Mostly because, in his words, “they’re ugly little fuckers”.  Franco means this lovingly, of course. 

╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝

[landscape-suicide]

I think that the best comparison to Lynch in terms of cinema is probably ero guro as a film movement and its offshoots its like all about shallow almost simulated "normal" worlds that make way into cavernous subterranean lairs emblematic of both base carnal desire and the infrastructural violence that scaffolds the "normal" world above it. its like all self destructive eroticism and fetishistic infatuation and disgust towards war and human violence, and a dissolution between artifice and truth that sort of inevitably makes its way into all consuming true love. literally almost always follows the same symbolic lines as Lynch too, lots of doppelgangers and starlets and voyeurs and guys in white face paint and spooky red rooms and a big focus on disability and a sort of kitsch "new money" sensibility and the fearmongered imaginary of gang/subculture stuff. and the awesome thing is that it basically entirely predates him like it saw its most major booms in the 60s and 70s. everyone who likes Lynch should definitely watch Horrors of Malformed Men and Blind Beast

[diavologlazer]

Japanese horror films (recommendations)

Theres a few i want to share, some of these are popular with the horror community in general and some just within people who are interested in these themes!!

starting off with some well known:

Ring (1998; directed by Hideo Nakata)

Ju-On: The Grudge (2002; directed by Takashi Shimizu)

Perfect Blue (1997; directed by Satoshi Kon)

Godzilla (1954;directed by Honda Ishirō)

Ichi the Killer (2001; directed by Takashi Miike)

Audition (1999; directed by Takashi Miike)

House (1977; directed by Nobuhiko Ôbayashi)

A Page of Madness (1926; directed by Teinosuke Kinugasa)

Kuroneko (1968; directed by Kaneto Shindō)

Onibaba (1964; directed by Kaneto Shindo)

Horrors of Malformed Men (1969; directed by Teruo Ishii)

Kwaidan (1964; directed by Masaki Kobayashi)

Tokyo G0re Police (2008; directed by Yoshihiro Nishimura)

Gozu (2003; directed by Takashi Miike)

Three... Extremes (2004; directed by Fruit Chan, Takashi Miike, Park Chan Wook)

The Sinners of Hell (1960; directed by Nobuo Nakagawa)

Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1989; directed by Shinya Tsukamoto)

slightly less known:

Meatball Machine (2005; directed by Yūdai Yamaguchi)

Girl Hell 1999 (directed by Daisuke Yamanouch)

Noriko's Dinner Table (2005; directed by Sion Sono)

Naked Bl00d (1996; directed by Hisayasu Satō)

Shogun's Sad1sm (1976; Yuji Makiguchi)

Vampire Clay (2017; directed by Sôichi Umezawa)

Marebito (2004; directed by Takashi Shimizu)

Cold Fish (2010; directed by Sion Sono)

Grotesque (2009; directed by Kōji Shiraishi)

Strange Circus (2005; directed by Sion Sono)

And my personal favorite 1991s 964 pinnochio !!

I tried not to put too much exploitati0n/ extreme horror on here. I based them on how much people on social media talk/have talked about them.

Also is it obvious i love Takashi Miike.

If you need any more Japanese or in general horror from other countries/places i got u!!

Enjoy :D

[freyascrazyy]

i am here to waffle (and ask for movie recommendations. hand them over)

I assume you want mostly 50s-60s vintage films (Still many outliers I'll list) so here are some extremely well known basic movies that I watched frequently growing up, a lot of which you've probably seen already. Julius Caesar, Cleopatra, the godfather, of mice and men, taxi driver, clockwork orange, and psycho everyone on Earth has already seen so here are others:

•The pillowtalk trilogy (my childhood favourite set of romantic comedy films). •All 3 James Dean movies (Giant, East of Eden, a rebel without a cause). •A streetcar named desire. •RH 1990 biographical film (Only saw it twice and not vintage but y'know it wasn't bad). •A place in the sun. •Who killed teddy bear •Misfits (1961) •Suddenly last summer. •Dorian Gray 1945 •Rope, the birds, strangers on a train, anything Alfred Hitchcock •On the waterfront •Cat on a hot tin roof •Sleepaway camp (Is that even vintage). •The thing •The omen. •The wickerman •The toolbox murders •Horrors of malformed men •House

Other really basic ones that I grew up watching: Lawrence of Arabia, Citizen Kane, Gone with the wind, Gaslight, Tomb of ligeia, somebody up there likes me, judgement at Nuremberg, Freud, Rio Bravo, the searchers, sleuth, Khartoum.

[ronmerchant]

HORROR OF THE MALFORMED MEN (1969)

[ghostytoad]

🎃 ROTTMNT Halloween Headcanons 🎃

Horror Movies

Summary: The Hamato siblings & horror movies

Headcanons for: Raph, Donnie, Leo, Mikey, & April

Halloween Headcanons - Haunted House Edition

Halloween Headcanons - Haunted House (x Reader ver.)

i added a few horror movie references here and there (betcha can't name 'em all!)

Raph:

Favorite genre: Zombie horror

Least favorite genre: Gore/Torture

isn't too fond of horror movies; would rather watch action movies

he's convinced that 'based on a true story' movies are 100% real

easily jumpscared but tries to laugh it off every time

leo will tease him about his fear stink tho

believes twilight technically counts as horror

"it's a movie about vampires and high school! how'zat not scary?"

might watch horror movies alone if he's surrounded by plushies and his blanket

won't sleep all night tho

leaves the light on after a horror marathon "just in case"

Donnie:

Favorite genre: Psychological when done right; Time-loop horror

Least favorite genre: Found footage

isn't too bothered by horror movies

but plot holes will frustrate him to no end

and he WILL make his brothers listen to him rant about it afterwards

"SCOFF! he was OBVIOUSLY a ghost, literally no one else noticed him or talked to him!"

prefers j-horror (subbed even tho he understands japanese)

he doesn't have a favorite movie but he does like the japanese film 'horrors of malformed men' (江戸川乱歩全集恐怖奇形人間)

considers found footage horror movies inferior and 'lazy'

spends most of the movie criticizing the characters and making fun of the villain

was terrified of pennywise as a kid (dvd rental mix-up that went unnoticed by papa splinter)

for the longest time, he thought pennywise lived in their sewers

Leo:

Favorite genre: Slasher movies; Parody horror

Least favorite genre: Classic

he loves horror movies and binges them for halloween

joins in on donnie's commentary, which mildly annoys mikey and raph

most of leo's commentary is just making fun of his brothers

"oh hey, don bon! i had no idea you were on tv... congrats on the blob monster role~!"

finds silent horror movies to be incredibly booooring

enjoys campy 80s horror (evil dead 2, gremlins, creepshow, ect)

unironically considers killer klowns from outer space a masterpiece

is banned from picking movies bc of this

might get spooked from time to time

not that he'll admit it

nothing can shake this ninja warrior, nuh uh no way

Mikey:

Favorite genre: Paranormal/Ghost movies

Least favorite genre: Psychological

considers himself a "horror expert" and owns all the classics

likes to play "who would survive this plot" with his brothers during the movie

according to him, leo's usually the most likely to die first

has a plan for every possible zombie apocalypse scenario (that he totally didn't get from a bunch of zombie movies)

"i'm not saying that he *should*, but donnie could totally build a giant prison maze for ghosts. it'll be just like the movie!"

will occasionally watch scary movies alone in the dark

overestimates his fearlessness every time-

loves a good ghost movie but he's a bit of a scaredy cat

might need a few cutesy romance movies afterwards to feel better

April:

Favorite genre: Found footage

Least favorite genre: Slasher/Killer horror

loves a good horror movie binge and will jump on any chance to watch them with her brothers

always ready with halloween themed snacks and candies

is also a self-proclaimed "horror expert"

she knows a lot more than mikey tho

can tell you about the directors, the history of horror movies, and the stories the movies are based on with complete detail

"movie night at my place? i've got just the thing to scare y'all out of your shells~"

rec is probably one of her top 5 favorite movies

likes the idea of creating her own found footage horror movie

mikey, leo, and splinter are all on board to be in her movie

donnie and raph? not so much

[maudeboggins]

End of Year Review Every year I like to create a review of media I consumed. Here is 2024:

Books: In 2024 I read 68 books. My favourites were:

Clyde Fans (Seth, 2019)

Brother (Ania Ahlborn, 2015)

The Indifferent Stars Above: The Harrowing Saga of a Donner Party Bride (Daniel James Brown, 2009)

Revenge (Yoko Ogawa, 1998)

Audition (Ryu Murakami, 1997)

Piercing (Ryu Murakami, 1994)

Coin Locker Babies (Ryu Murakami, 1980)

Life is a Banquet (Rosalind Russell, 1977)

Rosemary's Baby (Ira Levin, 1967)

I'll Cry Tomorrow (Lillian Roth, 1954)

A Kiss Before Dying (Ira Levin, 1953)

The Beast in the Jungle (Henry James, 1903)

I read 7 books on Arctic and Antarctic exploration (1 fiction). I read 3 books on Garbo. I read 12 Japanese books. I read 7 graphic novels. I read 15 non-fiction books.

Films:

I watched 437films in 2024

Favourite new to me films:

The Vampire Lovers (1970)

Horrors of Malformed Men (1969)

Strait-Jacket (1964)

Sorry, Wrong Number (1948)

The Body Snatcher (1945)

The Youngest Profession (1943)

It Started with Eve (1941)

The Cowboy and the Lady (1938)

The Black Cat (1934)

Cleopatra (1934)

After Tomorrow (1932)

Love Me Tonight (1932)

Lucky Star (1929)

Favourite Re-Watches:

Ninotchka (1939)

Jezebel (1938)

Favourite new release: La Chimera

Favourite actors of the year:

Lupe Velez, Marion Davies, Clara Bow, John Barrymore, Gary Cooper, Sylvia Sidney, Greta Garbo, Jeanette Macdonald, Norma Shearer, Goria Swanson, Rochelle Hudson, Christopher Lee & Peter Cushing

[scholarlycoffee]

ABOUT ME

I'm Sam (they/them)

I'm a 21yo from Wyoming

I write dark, literary-leaning fantasy and horror

I am also a stage actor, director, and playwright!!

My published work can be found HERE!

MY WIPS

Monroe just laughs and runs her fingers over the mug's smooth glaze, wondering if that isn’t a bit like how her heart looks: warped and greenish and malformed, with June’s fingerprints all over the surface.

Sequel to Mosswood.

Genre: Adult contemporary fantasy, horror novel

Setting: The fictional town of Los Cedros, California, 2014

Summary: A decade after the events of Mosswood, Monroe moves to a small town in California where she meets Joey Hart, a self-proclaimed Paranormal Private Investigator who recruits her for his cross-country expedition in search of the supernatural, but as her past and present begin to collide, she finds herself being pulled back to Ponderosa Bay and the darkness that waits in its forests.

Status: Drafting / 19k

What a cruel world this is, she thinks, that these are the people who must become protectors, warriors: gentle young men whose hands seem better suited for feeding the hungry, but instead bear the scars of a war that cannot be won.

Genre: Adult Fantasy, post-apocalyptic novel

Setting: Edrebet, a small farming village in Vanlia, 87 years post-Rot

Summary: A young hero sets out on a journey to save the world from a deadly magical infection. He is not the main character of this story. When he passes through her small farming village, he strikes up an unlikely friendship with mild-mannered shopkeep Sen who has barely seen anything outside the town walls.

Status: On hiatus / 31k

The light-leaks and scratches on the old film flicker over her face, masking her reflective white eyes. The video kicks back and loops. “My name is Nettie Schultz and I have died three times,” she repeats. 

Genre: Adult, supernatural mystery

Setting: Tombedel, a mysterious medieval island off the coast of England. November of 2025, but also 1983 and 1934 and 802 AD and 509 AD.

Summary: On the island of Tombedel, no one dies. At least, no one stays dead. Ex-private investigator Abe Tannen’s vacation to Tombedel takes an unexpected turn when a man is murdered in his hotel—the first person to die on the island in over 1,000 years. When he ends up being roped into the investigation, he teams up with Pippin Young, a 13-year-old ghost with a mysterious past, and an eclectic bunch of ghosts.

Status: Planning

[ebaylee422]

Chapter 1: The Pig

The Emerald Prince and his Sapphire Princess

Aemond Targaryen X  OC Lyssa Targaryen

Author’s Note: Sorry I said I would update this what feels like months ago (which it has been). I’ve finally reached a point where I’m actually story planning and not just winging it. LMK if this chapter is too long or short in the comments, I have a hard time with deciding chapter lengths. Thank you for reading! Taglist is also open and I can remove you if you don’t want my random updates.

Summary: Rhaenyra gives birth, afterwards the children gather within the dragon pit. Where Aemond and Lyssa are put in great danger from a prank.

Characters: Mentions of the historic reigns of both Maegor and Jaehaerys

Warnings/Tags: 18+ !!!! Minors DNI. Talks of potential suicide attempt, murder and shock of nearly being killed, description of injuries to people and animals, description of birth and pregnancy. (If I missed any large ones for this chapter)

Word Count: 5k +

Prologue - 1 - 2 

“Queen Elinor found Maegor upon his throne, slashed from wrist to elbow and a stray blade of the throne threw his neck between his chin and collar. Posed as if he’d fallen backwards, his face was pale and struck with agony much like his reign.” Viserys answered the plainness of the text he’d implored me to study the past fortnight, waiting for another Velaryon and Targaryen cousin from Rheanyra. She’d started aching the past few days, explaining I would understand someday as she wished her mother had been able to explain to her. I’d waited within the corridors when Jacaerys was born, with a nose large enough to fill the lungs of his thick body. With Lucerys I held him first after his own mother he cried loud enough to shatter windows, we were surrounded deftly after by Ser Laenor and Ser Harwin to look upon the child they’d swore to protect.

“Do you think he did it? Granted himself a coward's death?” I asked, watching one of the stone workers Eddard beside my uncle carving, aiding in an articulate depiction of a vision of Old Valyria. Eddard was lean and unspoken at least for a few chuckles and smiles as I studied under Viserys. He had a kind slim face with honey eyes and delicate pale skin that showed off the rugged muscles of his hands as he worked. While the Maester took gently to tending to the King’s back with hands woven in pungent smelling white linen. My own hands soft as they tumbled over the crinkled pages of my journal, caressing to somehow untap the potential behind my writings.

“Only the walls of the Red Keep know what occurred those few hours after Towers and Rosby left the King to his thoughts. Could have been the King Guard, sworn as his shield and first line of defense. Or the Black Brides, the family believed it was Queen Elinor torn in grief and rage of her late husband and malformed stillbirth from her less than tumultuous unhappy marriage.” 

“So he was cursed then, A Mad King. After an age of conquest, came the age of insanity.”

“As the texts I gave you lead you to believe, yes? However, above all he started as a mere man, raised in scorn of his mother’s boot to become the Kinslayer he will be known for until the next conquest. ‘Maegor The Cruel’-. Ouch, careful!”

“Apologies, My King. The Wounds are spreading-” Maester (name) held up his hands in surrender as if he’d burned the King.

“That is enough for today dear Maester, please stitch me so I may continue my nieces studies. Without your distraction.”

“Yes, My King. We will allow you respite until the evening. You will soon welcome a new grandchild into the world.”

“Rhaenyra’s still in her labors? Hasn’t it been nearly a day?”

“Labors Princess, vary for many unknown reasons. Typically the size of the child is the most affecting of them.”

“Then the Princess is giving birth to a boulder, is she?” The men of the room laughed in harmony of what would be my potential horror after my marriage bed. 

“Someday you will know the great burden child, now. Suppose, why do you think they say Targaryen’s are closer to gods than men?”

“The Gods granted us Dragons.” I answer quickly as if it weren’t the most obvious part of my own life. 

“Yes, and?”

“I don’t understand. Targaryen’s gained power and control of the Kingdoms by our dragons, no common man can claim a Dragon. We can touch the whipped clouds of the sky while a man falls from a tree to stay on muddied ground. The rooftops the highest they will be until the afterlife.”

“Hmm.” He shakes his head unceremoniously and furrows his brow in concentration, 

“Uncle, now that Maegor is dead. I will learn of my namesakes?”

“Yes, Queen Alysanne our Granddam, and Princess Alyssa, my mother. Within the reign of Jaehaerys I, who ruled for a peaceful 55 years. Even if you hadn’t shared my brother's face and strong pleasure to disagree with me. Your eyes showed you were a dragon, long before you knew of us.”

“Do you think that’s why Silverwing came to me that day on the mount?”

“I don’t have to think, she knew. I’m sure if Cousin Rhaenys hadn’t laid a strong claim and bond to Meleys, she would have come to you as well. The Queens know strength when the realm needs it the most.”

“Then Queen Elinor did it, she impaled Maegor upon the throne?”

“My King, Princess. The Princess Rhaenyra has given birth to a son-”

“My, what glorious news! Lyssa my robes, we must give him a Prince's worth welcome.”

“The Queen has requested them with her chamber.”

“Ah yes. My wife is quite superstitious within her new found faith. Come Lyssa, walk with me.”

“If Maegor hadn’t eaten or drank in days, pondering the likelihood he would die at the hand of his child nephew and sister-wife’s Dragon’s. Neither had any to lose or gain, except the promise of revenge. Of the lives she watched him take, the life he squeezed from her loins. It all ended in tragedy, regardless what he accomplished diplomacy was nothing only in architecture and word of mouth from his reputation.”

“That’s why Jaehaerys was so profound, his partnership.”

“The realm declared him King of the Small folk before he even began to usurp the throne to avenge his father.” 

“Yes, they were very loved by the Kingdoms. Not only did they define a great rule until Jaehaerys death, it lasted-”

“55 years, The Conciliator.”

“Yes, before I was found heir after my Father Baelor died. Passing over his granddaughter Princess Rhaenys, despite Alysanne’s wishes. What does a Conciliator do?”

“I-, I don’t know Uncle.”

“It’s a Peacemaker, they bring opposing forces together. Jaehaerys brought the realm together starting at just a boy of four and ten.”

“What will they call you?” I ask abruptly enough for Viserys to stop his steps in front of Alicents chamber door.

“They will call me what they call all men of families in strife, Viserys The Peacekeeper.” I smiled broadly at his double meaning, as I helped the serving boy open the door. He thanked me excessively and Viserys entered the chamber, his voice only half a jovial as his face. “What happy news this morning.”

“Indeed, your grace.” Laenor helps Rhaenyra sit upon a chair within the Queen's chamber. One I was fond of when visiting her before bed as she read to us children. That was when I first arrived at Kings Landing and none of Rhaenyra’s children ever invited. I pondered if it still occurred even as we were growing older. 

“Where is he? Where is my grandson?” Viserys asked as Laenor bowed, passing the babe from Rhaenyra, still damp in perspiration to Viserys holding him in his right and newly singular healthy arm. “There.” Joffery coos, as Viserys dotes on him turning and beckons me over with a nod. “There he is. Oh, a fine Prince. Sturdy. You will make a fearsome knight.“ At first sight the child is smaller than his brothers previous, but still lovely. With a full head of brown hair a strong grip on the Targaryen quilt.

“Yes, you will, dear little cousin.” I cooed as Viserys rocked him gently,

“Does the babe have a name yet?” Alicent asked as Viserys was in his own little bliss, meeting his third grandchild. A grateful thing when each passing day was harder than the next with his failing body, his mind was one thing he wished the gods to help him remain strong. 

“We haven’t spoken-”

“Joffrey.” Laenor interrupts Rhaenyra, “He’ll be called Joffrey.”

“That’s an unusual name for a Velaryon.” Alicent remarks to no one in particular, but when Rhaenyra's face flushes with either pain or anger. I knew someone has yet to comfort her on her achievement, another boy, a healthy boy and birth she’d lived through. 

“I believe he might grow into yet your grace, don’t you think?” I tell Viserys, brushing Joffrey’s wisps of dark hair on his soft crown drying with life’s blood.

“I do, I do believe he has his father’s nose. Don’t you?” Viserys turns to all of them talking to his grandchild to be within the crowd by Rhaenyra again, I brushed by Laenor’s curt nod to stand beside Rhaenyra’s chair.

“Yes, your grace. The blood of the Dragon and Sea runs deep.” Lyssa said squeezing Rhaenyrea's shoulder, her cheek came to rest upon it. Immediately relaxing with her cousin's calm presence.

“If you don’t mind, your graces, your daughter has exhorted herself heroically and should rest.” As Rhaenyra tries to stand without help, I offer my hand to which she grateful holds as Alicent swoops the babe away from Viserys. 

“Of course. There.” Viserys hands him to Alicent willingly and takes Rhaenyra’s free hand in his. 

"Well done, Princess. He is beautiful and so calm." I brush my thumb over the softness of her wrist as I trail my hand to grip her elbow. 

“I do hope the labor was easy.” Viserys whispers to his daughter, I turn for their own moment of privacy watching the careful way Alicent handles her grandchild when not of any blood of hers he came into this world. May he see at least the barest kindness from her now, as may he not come to realize how complicated Alicent truly is. I bless upon him in her arms,

“I think I called the midwife a cunt.” They both giggle, 

“Oh?” They kissed each other's cheek, lovingly "Lyssa, I believe our lessons are done for the day. As my family rests in triumph of a new member, so shall I. You may spend the remainder as you wish." I bow to Viserys in formality, turning to fully embrace Rhaenyra. 

“May I help you to your rooms?” I offered to Rhaenyra, as I held her tight.

“Yes, thank you Cousin." She sighed weakly into my hair, I graciously scooped Joffrey from Alicents arms. Ignoring her lasting comment to Laenor as I walked ahead of them both. To the Princess’s shared apartments with her immediate family. Unknown to most this was where Alysanne raised her children, Aemma wanted the same life and love shared in her children. Rheanyra kept to her same chambers since childhood, only filling the halls with her children rather than her mothers. Alicents children lived near the opposite in Maegor's holdfast, the Kingly apartments. Where I took my father’s chamber growing up, Viserys wouldn’t have it any other way. If Daemon wished to visit his brother he would stay in Viserys' childhood room, until then it remained empty. It had been some time since anyone visited the halls of my apartments, only a few servants and ratcatchers, besides myself. While the King and Queen had the highest apartments, their children close by across the garden, Rhaenyra had the second level same as the small council chambers. Mine were lower echoing of Maesters studying in the library. Viserys once said that his father Baelor chose these chambers to raise his sons so that they would have strong brains and patience. I supposed he may be rolling in the catacombs to see how differently his sons turned out to be. Another serving boy opened the door to Rhaenyras chamber as I approached, hearing the jovial clamber of the young boys within.  Met with the soft honey eyes of my other mentor in my fathers steed Ser Harwin Strong, his face softens with a nod as he sees the small babe cradled to my chest.

“Princess-” He starts to say until Laenor and Rhaenyra enter and he’s violently interrupted by Lucerys in his path.

“Mother.” Jacaerys gets up from his place on the carpeted floor,

“Mother, we chose an egg for the baby.” Luke bonds to his mother until Laenor catches him in succession to his excitement. Jace lifts the lid to the iron pot to show us all a black egg with shimmers of oranges similar to Syraxs. 

“Ahh. That looks like the perfect one.” She tells her children in a voice soft and supple as the Joffrey. Harwin offers his arm as she sits.

“I let Luke choose.”

“Thank you, Jace.”

“Well done, cousins.” I ruffled the hair on Luke’s head as I pass him. 

“Not everyday an egg leaves the Dragonpit, Princess. I thought it best to escort the lads.” Laenor comes to stand near my shoulder cradling the top of Joffery’s head, smoothing the furrow of his brow with the pad of his thumb as Joffery wiggles in my arms at the affection.

“Laenor and I thank you, Commander.”

“Another boy, I heard.” I smile at Ser Harwin, moving the blanket lower on Joffery’s chin so that he may see his face.

“What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?” Laenor laments,

“And scholar, we must make sure he knows the delights of the big bright world.” I whisper,

“Might I?” Harwin implores, eye finding the ground as if he is ashamed for asking,

“Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey.” Rhaenyra commands Laenor and I to release the beautiful boy.  

“Of course.” Laenor drops his hand, smiling large. I step twice to Harwin he towers over me arm under arm he takes Joffrey. Harwin has never been anything less than graceful from his bruting frame and deep voice, a towering stature to match. He makes us all feel safe just being near, seeing such a powerful body cradle a child like spider silk is clumsy and endearing. 

“There.” I mutter wrapping the blanket from under my elbow.

“Joffrey, is it?”

“Mm-hmm,” Laenor answers as Rhaenyra and Harwin share a knowing glance. He appears sad but placid as if she had already discussed her distaste for the name. 

“I believe it means Peace amongst Strangers.”

“Father, please may I hold Joffrey.” Lucerys begs, pulling on his father’s arm. Pushing his way past Jace to Harwin.

“No, no. No.” Laenor tells him as he pulls both sons by their collars.

“Ah. ah, ah, ah, Ah!” Harwin pushes Lucerys hand gently away from Joffrey,

“Hey!” I push at his shoulders the doors opening for them, 

“Nope back to the Dragonpit with you two. Come on. Before they send out a search party!” Laenor bows before continuing with his children down the hall. Leaving the three of us together, I clear my throat suddenly lost for words.

“I shall accompany the children after the Ravenry, write to Father and Lady Laena of their newest nephew. ‘Tis a blessed day for you, Princess. Good Morrow Ser Harwin.” I bowed to my glowing cousin as she looked so softly upon Ser Harwin holding Joffrey.

“Yes, Princess Lyssa. I shall see you on the training ground.” Harwin bowed his head without breaking eye contact with the sleeping babe, only cooing when Joffrey moved slightly to adjust his small hand beneath the warmth of the blanket. 

“I look forward to it.” I smiled at them before turning stride and closing the door behind me. Raking my skirts into my fists as I raced to the Ravenry on the other side of the training yards, entirely across the keep. Entering to see a Maester feeding all of the assortment of birds used for lettering. Along with two others posted each to either send or collect them. Maester Paxton sits at a writing desk, he’s of middle age and the one who organizes most of the day time operations. 

“Princess Alysanne,” he greets me, all the others pause their duties greeting me with shallow bows before returning to their duties. “A great pleasure to see you on this fine day. How may we assist you, my lady.” I smile courtly, taking a needed breath from racing to the hall.

“I wish to send a letter to Prince Daemon in Pentos. Princess Rhaenyra has just given birth to a third son.”

“What a joyous day for the royal family, please sit and I may draft it for you myself.” Paxton walked around me to a simple small chair with withering red cushioning on the seat, ripping at the sewn seams of the mounting sides. I sit gently as a shiver runs down my back as a large gust of birds fly overhead.

“Actually if I may draft it myself Maester Paxton. That is why I came instead of my maid.” His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline in disbelief of my request.

“Of course, Princess.” He bows his head turning to find parchment and ink setting it on the desk before me. “Let me know if you need any more assistance.” I sigh heavily as he backs away, headed towards the cages to another apprentice or servant. Giving me a moment with my thoughts,

‘Dear Father, Laena and sisters,

I am very grateful to be the one to inform you that Rhea has given birth to a healthy baby boy. They have decided to name him Joffrey, the family wishes you safe travels from afar. Your absence is greatly felt by all of us, I hope to soon find you back at Driftmark for my siblings' arrival. I do hope Lady Laena that your birth does not last a day and then some close to Rhea’s. She misses you both as dearly as I, Laenor also speaks of you both often. Between Father and his battles within the Stepstone to the adventures of Laena and him as children, it is hard to imagine we are not reliving the events. King Viserys had just ended my studies of Maegor The Cruel, I am to learn of Jaehaerys The Conciliator next. Knowing partly from my own intrigue of Silverwings past yet excited to learn of our nearest grandsires. While I measure my wit with King Vieserys, Ser Harwin has allowed me to wield a sparring sword and not a wooden one since my last letter. It is truly heavier than I imagined, I can’t imagine riding or running into battle with a sword longer than my arm and heavier than baby Joffrey to defend. Yet I still tried, just as Bronze Tail had begun his rider training. He is nearly taller than Aegon, at this rate he will be bigger than a horse the next time we gather. Exceeding even Sunfyre’s size as I write to you. Do give my love to my sisters Baela and Rhaena, I miss them dearly. As I see how much Jace has grown, I fear to find I will hardly recognize them both when you return home. To whichever one of you read this now I miss you ever dearly, and though never to pray like the common men. I wish for your health and safety, perhaps the next letter we exchange will include the name of the next newest Targaryen inside. Born of a different land. 

Always of love, your daughter.

Alysanne Targaryen’

  I blow on the ink allowing it to dry before folding it carefully calling upon Paxton that I wish it to be sent.

“Do you wish me not to correct any mistakes you made, Princess?” I sneer at the jab at my wits for being a highborn lady, I am one of the only Targaryen’s who doesn’t order a Servant to deliver a message in my stead. Writing letters since Father and Laena ran away to Pentos to be together after Rhaenyra and Laenor married. Leaving me to stay as Viserys ward. There was more potential for me here, Father always wrote when I wished to visit him in Pentos. His brother needed me, with my Daemon’s daughter in the Capital if something were to happen to Daemon. I am his first heir, it makes complete sense. 

“No thank you Master Paxton, I believe the King has amended my penmanship in recent years.” I smile as his face turns white, realizing he not only insulted me but the King due to his older belief system of Woman not being as well educated as Maesters. Men who give their lives to science and study. Not very different from Septon’s and Septas, yet they only answer to a different Vassal. I walk out of the Ravenry, pride seeping from my posture as I make my path to the Dragon Pit. 

Standing between Aemond and Jace as Vermax is guided by chains up the stone steps to the small training ground directly above the caves of the Dragonpit. As Jace is pushed forward I creep forward next to the Dragon Master.

“Let him come” He tells the wranglers, Aegon yawns obnoxiously from behind us. His bond with Sunfyre was immediate after her hatching from the cradle. The rest of us weren’t so lucky. Helaena claimed Dreamfyre after years of waiting, Luke and Jace struggled and fought for their dragons control which started unruly rumors of their heritage along with their brash muddy appearances in comparison to the rest of us. My egg hatched in Kings Landing after I claimed Silverwing nearly a decade after coming to my rightful home. While dear Aemond’s egg never hatched, still hidden deep within a trunk at the end of his bed. He hadn’t been able to claim another dragon, only coming to the pit to observe and obsess over something he might never have. 

“Call Vermax to heel, Prince Jacaerys.” The translator and second Dragon Keeper tells Jace, her face is dirtied by kind as she nods to the younger.

“Serve!” Jace commands the youngling, he stretches to full height before growling in our direction Jace steps back into the Dragon Master. “Halt!” This time Vermax holds eye contact and heeds his Rider. Sitting back on his haunches,

“Sȳrī “

“Well done.” I echo for Jace, while he’s distracted with pride. Vermax hears his meal bleating from the grapplers. A Sheep tied by its neck to a stone slab across the grounds.

“Vermax, Vermax!” Jace calls as his Dragon stalks the sheep, 

“Halt!” The Master commands, the entire room follows. He continues to teach Jacaerys.

“You must hold mastery over your dragon, my young Prince’s. As Prince Aegon has with Sunfyre. As Princess Alysanne’s claim of Silverwing.” The Keeper translated, 

I look over my shoulder to my kin: Luke is restless shifting his weight from each foot, Aegon glows with resented smugness as this is his escape from maternal overbear, and then to Aemond whose hands are cradled in front of himself as he picks his nails bloody. He sighs longly picking up his eye from their place on the ground as if he felt my searching for him. I give him a curt smile as the lesson continues. 

“Once they’ve fully bond to you they will refuse to take instruction from any other.” Jace nods in understanding before smiling tastelessly at the Master.

“Can I say it?” He eagerly wondered, the master hummed in agreement. As Jace turned around to the other boys I pushed his shoulder to attention.

“Don’t be crude.” I led him, holding his shoulder until he relaxed under my grasp. I heard a singular breathless chuckle from behind. Sounded almost as if it were an accident and watched tentatively as Jace calls for his Dragon’s Fire. The very same which all of us share between our veins, the tether of all of Targaryens souls. 

“Dracarys, Vermax!” Vermax is released behind wooden dowels approaching the sheep before collecting a breath in a screech and releasing the flames from his gullet. Taking the life of the sheep as it screams in agony of its death, Vermax feasts life gives life. It makes it no less horrible to watch, to my rescue the female Dragon Keeper pulls me aside.

“Skorkydoso emagon se jēdrar treated ao, dārilaros?” The boys hear as I’m whisked away. ‘How have the skies treated you, Princess?’

“Aemond, we have a surprise for you.” Aegon tells his brother leading him away

“What is it?” Aemond answers incredulously

“Something very special.” Lucerys says as he runs past me to the opening gates of the pit.

“You’re the only one of us without a dragon.” Aegon points out

“Indeed.” 

“Even the baby has an egg and Lyssa commands two. We felt badly about it, so we found one for you.” Aegon taunts with a guiding hand

“A dragon. How?”

“The gods provide.” Aegon snickers, I only hear laughter as they become too out far to hear any longer.

“Silverwing is lovely, I miss her dearly when we're apart. Do you think she would allow another to accompany me?”

“What do you mean Princess Alysanne?”

“Well she did fly all the way to the wall once, and my own grandmother carried her children on Meleys before her death. Do you think Silverwing or Bronze Tail, when he’s strong enough, will allow another rider to mount with me?”

“Is there a reason you ask me this?” I turn my head in the direct of the Princes noticing immediately the one I’m looking for is missing. I walk towards them, the two Kingsguard still against the far walls of the pit.

“I wish I could replay his face over again.” Luke comments, watching Vermax

“A grand touch with the hand crafted wings, nephews.” Aegon commends Luke with a punch to his arm.

“Aegon, where’s Aemond?”

“Upon, the Pink Dread!” Luke laughs before Jace shushes him,

“I don’t know, perhaps learning new riding techniques now that pigs can fly.” Aegon has to bite his lip to stifle a laugh.

“I beg your pardon?” 

“We got him a pig, dressed as a Dragon. He must have left-” A screech and shove of the caves under us shook the ground we all stood on.

“That sounded of the sisters, again.” The Master spoke in High Valarian, Dreamfyre and Silverwing despite being of the same clutch could greatly despise each other. A great black pit filled my belly with sickness as it happened again. I rushed for the steps of the caves, running for Silverwings nest. Yelling for him as grapplers were hot on my heels,

“Aemond?-” I screamed running around a corner seeing him on his back as Dreamfyre gave him a warning breath. The heat around us tells me this is not the first. “Aemond!” I covered him as he grasped onto my skirts for purchase. 

“Halt, Dreamfyre! Obey!” I commanded her in her fury, as she readied another blast I slumped to my knees holding Aemond in fear. Only we were not met with fire, only the sounds of heavy boots and chains on the cavern floor. As Silverwing pushed her sister from the stone opening, standing guard over us both. Aemond shivered as we were brought to our feet, he clung to my sleeve as second longer as he was fussed over by the Kingsguard. Who arrived after every other worker of the Dragon Pit, my heart pounded in my ears. Silverwing purred from her spot blocking her sister, wing unfurled and awaiting instruction.

“Are you alright Princess?” The grapplers asked,

“Take him to her grace, I shall deal with the others.” I instructed brushing off the weary looks of those around us both. Walking back the way I came, I turn on my heel to face them again. “No more Dragons today, see Dreamfyre and Silverwing are separated with large snacks. Bring me Bronze Tail, once you are finished.” 

I spend the rest of the afternoon bonding with Bronze Tail in the open area of the Dragon Pit, until a Kingsguard interrupts and informs me that the King has requested my presence. Bronze Tail is led back by chains around his neck as a Kings guard breathes down mine. As if I didn’t know where the Kings chamber may be. When I arrive the Guards part away from the door to allow me entry into Viserys chamber. He smiles so hard, I can see each one of his teeth clearly as his eyes squint.

“Lyssa my dear, come sit with me by the fire before my wife joins us.”

“Of course, your grace.” I curtsey, following his gaze to a lounge bench with decorative cushions along it. Sitting with my feet tucked under me, I grab a quilt to drape along my dress. The bottom is dirty with soot, mud while some of the hem is torn from racing to Aemond within the caves. I also became very aware of my smell, Dragon. They smell of meat, dirty creatures who sunbathe just to end up rolling in the damp grass. Scratching their back along the cavern walls wet with moisture of the ground. Then an upkeep of warmth from the heat they possess, their bodies and their fire collecting it all. It’s currently stuck to my every being.

“Leave us.” Viserys orders the guards, each of them exiting as he adjusts painfully in his chair. “I suspect by your appearance you stayed at the Dragon Pit after this afternoon's accident?” I nod shamefully, smoothing my hair off my face. Only to Viserys amusement I smear dirt along my forehead from Bronze Tails chains.

“I would have bathed before coming here so you wouldn’t be victim to my state but-”

“It’s alright Lyssa, it is just us.” Viserys says in our family ‘s ancient tongue. I breath a sigh of relief when he immediately speaks again.

“To be truthful, I miss the smell of Dragon. It was before Rhaenyra when I last rode mine. Never claiming another after Balerion, it is comforting.” We sat in peaceful silence as he rose from his chair, gathering behind his dressing screen. Water runs and he returns with a linen, I hold out my hands and instead of giving me the cloth he takes each hand in his. Wiping them each clean, raising my sleeves slight red rims where Aemond had gripped my forearm tightly. Crescent indents, and a purpling bruise shielded by the loose fabric. He brushes each mark with his thumb before tipping my chin up and wiping my forehead.

“Thank you, your grace.”

“Uncle.” His smile is contagious, as he says it. 

“Thank you, Uncle.” He tosses the cloth on a nearby table before sitting across from me again. Sighing deeply as he watches the warm hearth, drying my wet hands craving the warmth of anothers again.

“Aemond was brought to Alicent earlier today, claiming he was gifted a pig dressed as a Dragon. Yes?”

“Yes, I did not see the pig until after Aemond had been retrieved from the Dragon Caves.”

“Right, and what happened my dear?”

“I was speaking away from the boys as Vermax was held by a sheep, when seeing Aemond's absence there was a rumble below. Dreamfyre and Silverwing have been known to quarrel yet there was snarling and the Kingsguard were still present. If Aemond had left one would have been with him-” I told Viserys hastily,

“Breathe, Lyssa. He is fine now.”

“Yes, I ran around to Dreamfyre’s entrance to see him cowarded on the ground. Dreamfyre was about to fire her second warning blast when Silverwing interrupted, knocking her away from us. Then the others came, I captured the pig. He’s within the royal pens.”

“Why do you have the pig?” Viserys inquired

“There was no reason to keep him tied within the lower levels.”

“Lyssa, the truth.”

“I- I wanted to feed him to Silverwing the next time we have a lesson. Defending Aemond while implementing only a slight fear within the others. Jacerys was the one who told me of the prank. Aegon dismissed his brother's absence.” Something catches in my throat as I speak, I look down to my hands. My mind spinning with many emotions: the fear, anger and denial of what had transpired. 

“I give you permission. After all, not only did you save Aemond but you cleared a few inner turmoil's for myself.” I grimace, at the terror if I had been too late. What if Silverwing hadn’t interrupted? He must have noticed, “The Queen believes our children may do no wrong, yet it is hard to punish children for being children. Instead you may show Aemond that the pig is as fragile as the joke the others showed him. Especially since my grandchildren and their youngers. I trust you, the eldest next to Aegon-”

“Uncle…” I interrupted as tears flooded my eyes, I wipe them as soon as they threaten to shield my vision completely, “Aemond could have died. We could have died. To Dragon Fire no less. I'm afraid a show of my Dragon’s power isn’t justice. I had I not noticed Aemond’s absence, had I not been there-”

“Dear Lyssa, do not be so cruel to yourself. You did well. I know the guilt you and Jaecerys carry is as large and profound as your hearts. Everyone is safe now.” The door opens to Criston Cole announcing the Queen's presence, Aemond with his hair wild and face just as dirty as mine was previously entering the room.

“Your Grace, Prince Aemond.” I rise to my feet, accidentally dropping the blanket covering my unseemly appearance. 

“Princess, why your dress. It’s ruined!” She moves around Viserys chair gripping my arms with intensity. I whimper as she makes contact with my forearm, her eyes go wide pulling up my sleeve as Viserys did with less kindness but more motherly intention. 

“It’s just a scratch.”

“We’ll ensure the Maester gives you ointment so you do not scar.” She smooths the hair off my shoulders before wiping her hand on the cloth on the table next to me, effectively releasing me. Aemond’s soft eyes heat my cheeks as he doesn’t break contact with my standing form.

“Thank you. If I may, I came directly from the pit. I wish to wash before dinner.”

“I believe we are all to dine within our own chambers tonight due to today’s events. Lest exhaustion get the better of us.” She stands behind Viserys rubbing his shoulders lightly as she speaks motioning Aemond to could further into the room. I know my invitation to dine with the ‘greens’ is only extended when Viserys demands Alicent be cordial. She has a large heart and would do the worst for her children, yet I am Daemon’s child. An offspring of the Prince who dismisses her family’s importance and acknowledges their conniving nature. 

“Well then, if I may be excused.” I curtesy to each of them after Viserys agrees, finally meeting Aemond’s eyes. He looks exhausted, my heart aches as it begs to give him more comfort. Yet affection within this confusing large family dynamic amongst other deeds is frowned upon because of its rarity. I keep my distance walking past him within the large chamber, breathing a deep sigh of relief as I approach the halls of my lonesome apartments. 

Masterlist

Taglist: @stargaryenx​ , @bellameshipper  , @supmymainhuman , @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @nitimurinvetitumsposts​ , @50svibes​ 

Requests: Open

[sureinsunlight]

Song Prompt-- All My Dust-Fed Men

Requested by @entropyking

Saddam-- AlicebanD

You think the man you love is lonely

As the bridge you climb is burning

But the bridge you climb is smoking

As the flames are all put out

CW for gore and body horror under the cut!

Ah, Ah, Ah.

When first I awake, it is to the knowledge of gore. Of buzzing blood and waking hunger.

I know whose flesh it is that's closed about me before I feel its press.

The gate is closed. I'm on the wrong side, sewn into a body that is not mine. And despite this all, I rejoice.

My clapping hands shape from rib and tendon and burst through skin to ring bloody in the air. My jaws calcify in bloody pockets, chewing through fat to feel the cool sting of air and gasp voiceless praise. This is what I am-- chrysalis personae, malformed dredges of humanity pushing out to give desperate thanks. No eyes to see, for what is there but disappointment for them to gaze upon? No ears to hear, for the only voice I care for hums through our bones. The sobbing of my precious hound, my jackal who has swallowed down the scraps of my corpse and given me a gift most holy.

Oh, Cerberus mine, how I wasted your potential afore. How I smeared blasphemy upon your name. What grace, to belong after such damnation. To have meaning still.

I chant. He sobs, and holds me. I hold him. They will not take him from me now. We will be holiness.

He puts rings on my fingers. Gilds his insides for a gift.

Ah, Ah, Ah.