#New Riders of the Golden Age

[thatgeekwiththeclipons]

Remembering Academy Award Nominated writer and actor, Golden Globe Nominated, Emmy Nominated actor Dennis Hopper! ^__^

[anastaaaaaaasia]

The First Queen

Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Reader

Important notice: in this series reader has features of Ser Harwin, including Brown hair and tone of skin.

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First Chapter

Just like her mother, young Y/N was given the nickname, the Sunshine of the Castle. The girl was already 2 years old, by this time Princess Rhaenyra had another son, Luceris, Luke for his loved ones. The little prince also has dark curls, which are unusual for a Targaryen. Ser Laenor's three children do not look like him in appearance, it is too early to talk about the similarity of character, but despite all the gossip within the walls of the Red Castle, he spends all his time with all the children. Jayce teaches how to hold a sword and parry blows, walks with Y/N in the garden and helps catch butterflies, which are then carried to Helaena and the three of them look at them, and together with Luke watches the dragon egg, which is in the cradle.

Dragons. As one of the last houses to survive the Doom of Valyria, dragons became a family trait within House Targaryen, along with platinum hair and violet eyes. With the help of dragons, they captured Westeros, protected the dynasty, conquered new lands and connections, and conquered the skies. They say that the Targaryens are closer to gods than to people. But sometimes even the gods do terrible things, it all depends on the dragon riders.

Jace's egg has already hatched and a new resident, Vermax, has appeared in the Dragonpit. The dragon keepers say that even at his young age, Vermax avoids the cold in every possible way and tries to be close to other, older dragons. For example, Sunfyre.

The golden dragon belongs to Aegon and is similar in character to its rider. A nosy and nimble dragon cannot stay in one place for more than a day. The catacombs of the Dragon's Lair seem to be suffocating him, so his mood changes dramatically when the dragon is brought out to the prince. While the small dragon always approaches its owner with joy and excitement in its eyes. Dragon keepers would swear they've seen Aegon hugged his arms around a dragon's neck a couple of times.

  And his sister, young Helaena, during walks with her father in the dragon’s lair, shows a special interest in the Dreamfyre. The dragon also reacts calmly to her presence and even allowed herself to be touched.

The situation was different for peers, Aemond and Y/N. Their eggs did not hatch and the children were too young to understand what was happening. Some say that the year of their birth was cursed, others say that it is a punishment for the fact that the origin of Rhaenyra's children is called into question, but then what does Aemond have to do with it. The boy inherited all of his father's Valyrian features, Platinum hair and purple eyes.

Everyone thought. No, hoped that the eggs would hatch over time, but two years is already quite a long time. The firstborn of King Viserys 1 has already spoken to her father that if Syrax lays the clutch, then she is ready to give her daughter a new egg, she is even ready to give Aemond one, as a sign of goodwill for his mother.

Once old friends, now they meet only on certain occasions. The queen and princess, who once communicated warmly and cordially, now greet each other with cold glances and the proper courtesies that the royal court expects from them.

The relationship finally deteriorated when Lord Otto Hightower, the queen's father, was removed from his position as Hand. From that moment on, Alicent did not believe a single word of her former friend. There were a lot of lies, they flowed through the Red Castle like streams, flowing down the steps, parapets and entrevolts into the ears, penetrating into the common sense and hearts of all the inhabitants of the castle.

  Therefore, when the queen caustically noted that for some strange reason the Baratheon genes outplayed the strong genes of the Targaryens, Velaryons and even the Arryns three times, this only created another reason for new whispers in the dark corners of the castle.

Now the royal family will have to meet again and put on fake smiles for everyone around them. For the second time in a year, the king announced a royal hunt. Two moons ago they were dedicated to Prince Aemond, second son of King Viserys. The boy turned two years old and his curiosity about everything around him began to awaken. Especially to his father's model of ancient Valyria, he often walked around him, and Viserys sometimes helped him, lifting him into his arms and showing the figures closer. The prince especially liked miniatures of dragons, which he only had in toy format and could never emit real fire.

Today, the royal hunt was dedicated to the second anniversary of Princess Y/N, the king’s granddaughter from his beloved daughter. The girl was wearing a light blue dress. It reached to the ground, and there was a rectangular cutout under the neck to make the princess feel comfortable under the summer sun. The sleeves barely reached the elbows and their bottoms were framed by flowers made of silver fabric. The skirt of the dress was also inlaid with silver threads and small stones.

Despite the obvious colors of House Velaryon in the costume of the young heiress, the head was still adorned with now long brown hair, like the other offspring of Princess Rhaenyra. The hair shimmered brightly under the sun's rays and made it a warmer shade than it originally was.

In the clearing in the middle of the Royal Forest, tents were already erected, and the servants were urgently making final preparations. The united coat of arms of House Targaryen and Velaryon fluttered in the wind, and the standards fit tightly into the ground. The clearing gradually filled with guests, lords and ladies from different parts of Westeros. Any event in the royal family means the possibility of potential alliances, which is why many noble families were present today, despite other plans and assignments.

But all this did not worry the young Targaryen heirs. Three royal carriages were almost approaching the scene of the event. The first was the King and Queen's carriage. Alicent sat inside, heavily pregnant. The maesters said that in one moon the queen would give birth to another child for the king of the seven kingdoms.

On her lap sat the princess of Helaena. The girl played with her long platinum hair, some of which was braided. Her light green dress shone from the rays coming through the window.

Sitting on Viserys' lap was his second son, Aemond. The two-year-old prince was looking at pictures in a book about his ancestors, about Aegon and his two conquering sisters. He especially looked at the illustrations of dragons.

To their right sat Aegon, the prince was talking about something with his father, when the latter handed him a goblet of wine.

“Viserys,” Alicent shouted. "He is only six years old," the queen was unhappy with her son's affinity for wine.

“He is already six years old,” the king commented good-naturedly and with a smile. “Even more so, it’s diluted,” after these words, Viserys shook his head approvingly towards Aegon, mentally giving permission to try the drink. The prince took a sip and broke into a smile.

Suddenly the carriage hit a stone and the remaining wine from the goblet spilled onto Aemond’s book, covering Vhagar’s drawing with a dark red stain. Two-year-old Aemond was clearly unhappy with this and hit his brother with his small fist. The carriage suddenly filled with noise in an attempt to calm the dragon's offspring.

But this was not heard in the next cart. Princess Rhaenyra was stationed there with her husband Ser Laenor and two children, Jacaerys and Y/N. It was decided to leave the newborn Luke in the castle under the supervision of maesters and midwives. The little girl tried to fall asleep, burying herself in her father's side, while Jace, on the contrary, tried to start a conversation. For a three year old he was very active. And now he was trying to teach his sister to pronounce his full name.

“Come on, tell Jacaerys,” the prince had been trying for ten minutes.

“Jace,” the girl said and laughed, seeing her brother’s dejected face. Rhaenyra also grinned and turned to the first child, "Don't worry, she will say your full name someday, right now it's still hard for her, she's only two years old."

“I hope it will be easier with Luke,” Jace said and frowned. Y/N carefully approached him and carefully hugged her brother.

“Jace,” she said and smiled. Jacaerys was no longer dissatisfied and smiled, “Well, at least I’m her favorite relative.” Everyone grinned.

“Favourite relative,” Y/N said carefully and in syllables and hugged her brother tighter.

  The third carriage carried the rulers of Driftmark, Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys Targaryen. They were discussing Laena, who had recently given birth. She gave birth to Damon's two daughters, Bail and Reyna. The babies were not even a year old. They now live in Pentos and due to the danger of travel for the girls, they were unable to come to King's Landing. Although before pregnancy, they visited Westeros and Leina became quite close friends with Rhaenyra. Eyewitnesses say that they often saw three dragons flying together. Caraxes, Vhagar and Syrax.

Now, when the clatter of the hooves of the royal horses can be heard from the clearing, the musicians line up holding the fanfare high. Golden chimneys shine and shimmer under the rays of the sun, and the coats of arms of the Targaryen and Velaryon houses hang proudly in a row. The sounds of music spread throughout all the tents, the invited guests head to the meeting place of the main persons of this holiday.

The carriages drove into the clearing and, to the deafening claps of the guests, the Royal Family went outside. The fanfare blew so loudly that six-year-old Aegon covered his ears in displeasure and there was some disgust on his face. But it soon disappeared, when he saw Rhaenyra’s only daughter, his niece.

It was unusual, but something attracted him to her. From the moment of her birth, Aegon made sure to spend time with her. He looked at her in the cradle and gave her small toys from his own collection. Hell, he even let her slobber all over him just to see her smile. And now, when the holiday was in full swing, he wanted to see her. But his mother distracted him.

The birthday girl of this celebration sat in her mother's arms as she spoke with the chief of the city guard, Harwin Strong.

“Princess, I also have a small gift for you,” Harwin said with a smile. He handed a small toy into the girl's hands. It was a white wooden horse whose mane was decorated with green, red and blue colors. Those colors that decorated the coat of arms of the House of Strong. The girl examined the gift and then poked it in Harwin’s chest, where that very coat of arms was and smiled.

“You have a bright child growing up, a rare combination of intelligence and beauty,” Harwin chuckled. Princess Rhaenyra also smiled and lightly patted the baby's head. Y/N and she really was smart, she often saw Ser Harwin and how he spoke to her mother. Therefore, the next phrase plunged the two adults into a slight stupor.

“Favorite relative,” Y/N squealed happily and stretched out her arms in an attempt to hug Harvin. Rhaenyra looked around sharply, trying to figure out if anyone had heard this phrase. Harvin was a little embarrassed, but in his heart he was pleased, although he understood that all this was wrong.

“No, Y/N, you can’t say that,” Rhaenyra said. The baby frowned and did not understand the reason. When she said this to Jace, her mother was pleased, but now she scolds her. Harwin asked her to cheer up the baby.

“How does the horse gallop?”

“Clunk clunk,” the girl imitated, picking up the toy, and then laughed with Harwin. After that, Rhaenyra smiled guiltily and went to the royal tent.

“I would like a niece like this,” said Laris, who suddenly appeared.

There was fun in the royal tent. Wine flowed in streams, and bards entertained the high-ranking guests. Y/N sat on the carpets next to other children and looked at the toy. The color red reminded her of her mother, grandfather and all the Targaryens. Blue was similar to the color of her father and relatives from Driftmark. And Green, who did green remind her of? His. Aegon.

The prince appeared in her field of vision and the girl smiled at him, stood up and hugged him. Aegon chuckled and sat down next to her.

“You,” Y/N exclaimed and first pointed to the green line on the horse, and then to his green tunic.

“Yes, Green,” said Aegon

“Gween,” Y/N repeated incorrectly.

“Gween,” the prince assured with a grin and thought for a couple of seconds. Suddenly an idea popped into his head and he tried to implement it. "Do you know my name?"

The girl thought and blinked her eyes a couple of times in confusion. Y/N frowned and shook her head in denial.

“I am Aegon. Can you repeat that? Ae-Gon,” the prince pronounced his name syllable by syllable and looked at her expectantly. After a couple of attempts the girl exclaimed

“Aegon,” Y/N started laughing and Aegon smiled from ear to ear. Jace, who was sitting next to him at the time, frowned and became indignant.

“Why can you say his name, but not mine,” the prince exclaimed displeasedly.

“It’s obvious, nephew, I’m her favorite relative,” Aegon said and Y/N smiled

“Aegon, Beloved Relative,” said the princess and buried herself in Aegon’s chest, hugging him with her small arms. The prince blushed.

“At least I still have Luke,” Jace muttered dissatisfied and continued to play.

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part One: Arrival

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader, NSFW 18+ only

Summary: You are married to the man in charge of the Manhattan Project himself, Dr. Robert Oppenheimer, and it's your first day (and night) at Los Alamos where tension and unspoken worry is getting high, but he finds time to show you how love can be an oasis in what seems like a rather barren land.

Word Count: ~7, 213

Warnings: Age gap (reader is mid-20s and he is almost 40, and they have been married for a couple years), period stereotypical gender roles (maybe sexism?), unprotected + oral sex, mention of miscarriage, and strong hints at infidelity

Disclaimer: Obviously NOT completely historically or scientifically accurate to real life and is inspired by the film with Cillian Murphy's portrayal of Oppenheimer. There are definitely mentions of Katherine and Jean Tatlock as lovers in this, but he does not have any children with Kitty and is not physically with either of them presently. I also want to clarify that this (while researched) is still just my interpretation with AU elements added in, and it isn't supposed to be in total support and reflection of the real man's life/personality. Scroll away and DNI if you are uncomfortable or take issue with this story; it is primarily for entertainment purposes only and it is just fantasy/fiction!

April 1943

The ride en route to the secluded destination christened as "Los Alamos" was long, hot, and bumpy through the New Mexico desert on a single primitive dirt road with the sun beating down on the windshield, glaring into your eyes and reflecting off the expensive dainty golden watch wrapped around your wrist that had been last year's anniversary present, and the jostling motion of the car made your breasts jiggle up and down slightly, reminding you that you'd been in such a hurry to leave with Robert this morning you'd regrettably forgone putting on a bra. He glanced over to you now, his porkpie hat shadowing the serious and contemplative expression that he had been wearing as a regular look for weeks now... Finally this plan was coming to fruition, but at what cost? It was the government's money and the scientists who were on the line. Robert let you know more details than most out of his non-physics inner circle because he trusted you to keep your lips sealed, but he never gave specifics about what exactly the coined Manhattan Project, or Project Y, was for in terms of a mission yet because it was national security level secret, however it didn't take a genius to figure out it was incredibly important and the development of something dangerous... Too dangerous to keep in a campus laboratory at Berkeley.

As the car approached the main gate and passed by the checkpoint, you realized just now fairly remote this barbed-wire location was and it made a small sinkhole crater in your stomach. But Robert knew this land from his youth and you partly did too, for he owned ranchland here and you both had spent many hours in the last couple years roaming on horseback and on foot into the twilight hours of the day, feeling the chill of the evening breeze and the rustle of shrubbery as the sun dipped down below the horizon and plum light bathed the landscape, bouncing off the backdrop of mountains and reaching deep into the canyons. You recalled fondly one time in particular during the early stages of being courted by him... It was technically only the second date and he had mistakenly trusted you with a horse, even though you were hardly an experienced rider, and of course it had gone ballistic and attempted to buck you off as you held on for dear life to the stiff dark brown leather saddle.

"Woah... Woah! Easy, easy," Robert had called out, grabbing a hold of the bridle and patting the stallion on the neck as you gasped and he kicked his hooves, thrashing the dirt and missing Robert's cowboy boots by inches.

"This one can be a bit rowdy, sometimes the wild never quite gets bred out, and he's not used to you," he explained simply over your panicked cries as he kept patting and verbally calming the animal down.

"But what did I do wrong? I swear, he dislikes me tremendously!" you exclaimed in shock and Robert only shook his head.

"Then he has very poor taste in women if he rejects you," he had joked and you went sliding off the horse's back to where Robert caught you, easing you to the ground gently.

"Are you alright?" he asked, eyes alight with a mischievous concern, but you merely brushed your pants off and smoothed your blouse, shaking the experience off.

"Of course I am. Now are we riding or not?"

He smiled at your confidence, but had hoisted you up onto his horse instead, straddling you from behind so you were facing front and clutching onto the reins. His arms loped around your waist and the horse began to trot, bouncing both you and him in a steady up and down motion, and you flicked the reins, causing the horse to take off into the expansive landscape and Robert let out a joyous whoop as the pace transitioned into a gregarious cantering gallop and the wind whipped your hair around like a battered Old Glory flag in a storm.

"This is too fast!" you had yelled out, but he only laughed, tightening his hold into a squeeze around you and spoke into your ear with a low murmur which instinctively made the goosebumps flare up on your neck.

"I wouldn't let you go even if that horse went mad and flew us off the ground over into a ravine to our deaths."

A little more than six months later after that frivolous adventure, he had dropped to his knee in that very desert and proposed to you, a diamond engagement ring encased in a black box in his palms and you were startled, taken aback at the promptness and faintly aware he was actively seeing at least one other woman at the time, but he had claimed he called it off with her a week ago.

You had cautiously accepted, knowing he was far from a wholesome man, but he was certainly one in a billion and you had unapologetically been with him ever since, even though some friends and extended relatives had openly judged, thinking you were only climbing up a social status ladder by doing so, and a couple of your more left-leaning girlfriends thought you were foolish to already settle for a man at your young age, but you truly loved him. Romance was rather odd; so rushed it could be and yet you felt comfortable around him as if you had known each other for life; soulmates, perhaps, if there ever was such a notion.

The wedding ceremony had been lavish enough to make you feel special, but it had been a more low-key event with only a small group of the closest friends and family in attendance, for he did not want much pomp and circumstance and you had spent the honeymoon at his secluded New Mexico ranch property, bizarrely a sort of prelude to where you both were ending up now. The phone hadn't stopped ringing for the past few weeks and since this work was taking up presidency, it was truth to be told that you hadn't really had time for each other and had been distant these past couple months as he diverted all his focus and intellect to the government and you hoped that after all this preparation, everything would settle somewhat now that he was at the ground level site. You felt trepidation but also excitement because this venture felt relevant and Robert was in his element with the company of like minded individuals all working towards a common goal. His vocation in teaching what he already knew of upper level physics had been boring him lately and he had told you multiple times he was haunted by the pressing need to be essential to the war effort outside of the confines of a classroom; he and his students had to make a real impact and change to the world, to this damned war. And if Robert wasn't the most ambitious, motivated, self-driven intelligent human being you'd ever met, then you'd be stumped to know who was right for the job; he could be dangerously dogged and was as loyal to this country as roots were to their corresponding corn stalks.

And now, starting today, he was the one man scientific director, a ruler really, of this militarized oasis in the middle of, well, nowhere.

Fractions of the place were still in progress, as evident by the trucks and the hammering with the occasional man lumbering past hauling construction boards on his shoulders. The Oppenheimers were still early in arrival, but everyone else on the project was supposed to be settled in by the end of the week. The house you and your husband were to live at was much better off than the cookie-cutter houses hastily put up suburban style along the man-made streets and it was tucked furthest away from the epicenter of town; a large spacious log and stone cabin (that had been formerly a boys' school) ranch style home surrounded by pine trees and shrubs along with a decent yard with that seemed ripe for cultivating a garden, and yet the home was modest and not overly luxurious; this was no vacation.

"The kitchen isn't finished?" you asked in surprise at once upon entry inside and Robert sighed, knowing you how much you had a penchant for cooking and he also knew that hosting gatherings here was going to be essential.

"I'll make sure they get it complete by the end of the week," he assured, resting a hand on the small of your back as you dropped down the luggage on the floor.

"Well, it is rather nice otherwise," you admitted, turning to him and smiling, but he couldn't quite return the gesture.

"Robert, what's the matter?" You reached to cup his cheek and he leaned into your touch before lifting up his own hand and placing it atop the one plastered to his face.

"I'm frankly worried how this is all going to work, how soon we can accomplish what we need to do. The death toll in Germany grows by the day, it may already be too late and..."

You placed a hand to his lips, shushing him with sadness.

"Please, shh, I'll have none of that talk when we just arrived in our new house. We are here now and that is the most important first step that matters towards any kind of accomplishment to your saving the world from this hellish war."

"I need to go do some oversight on the operations in town and at the laboratory," he announced abruptly, stepping back from your touch and picking up his briefcase as you nodded, moving with him to the front door.

"I'll see you tonight then. I think I'll make deviled chicken with a creamy coleslaw."

"I'm sure it will be delicious." He gave a tight smile and it was a somewhat ironic statement coming from the man who ate less than a thousand calories a day. That was one frustrating aspect about him that you had discovered when you had moved in with him back in California and realized he never had regular meals, and lately drinks and cigarettes were his main fuel. You hoped one of these days your passion for food would finally rub off on his aversion, but it probably wouldn't happen here with the increased supply rationing.

He disappeared out the door with his hat and you stood for awhile, taking in this new environment inside the main part of the house with its interesting architecture of high beamed ceilings and picture windows that allowed ample amounts of natural light at almost all hours. You spent most of the day unpacking and organizing, briefly going out to greet and visit with the other wives of top scientists, some you already knew, but others you had not met until today and you noticed that one of those you weren't familiar with was visibly pregnant... She was even younger than you and seeing her led you to wonder how quickly this little manufactured desert town was going to see a population boom in the next few years. Robert had brought up the concept of having children with you on more than one occasion, since you had already gone through one miscarriage (only in your first trimester and you never knew the sex of it, the doctor told you it could have been worse if you had carried to full term and lost the infant at birth, but it was still a gutting loss... Although you knew Robert was privately relieved, especially now since his work would likely leave no room in his heart to father an innocent, demanding child and all the burden would go to you alone) and there was the fact of possible infertility. The hardship of procreation probably ran in the family... Your mother had also miscarried, then had your premature brother who caught polio at two years old and perished weeks later, and then she herself had died during your own childbirth, leaving your father devastated and alone to care for you. You had a complicated, strained relationship early on with him and you wondered perhaps Freud was loosely right about the Oedipus complex since you always had such strong attractions to older men... but at least your father always tried to give you the best possible life he had with his wealth, which led you to moving out from your childhood home in New York across the country to pursue attending college in California in the field of psychology and medicine. You had been in the process of getting a degree in nursing, at least until Robert altered your life by his own ambitions and you had been forced to drop your studies temporarily to move out here with him, but you planned to be studying some by correspondence if the government allowed and also to be able to help out in the small hospital on site for an occupation.

To trim the excess fat off a long story short, it had been a bizarre fluke that you met and promptly fell in love with Robert... you were introduced on campus by friends who also knew Jean Tatlock, a budding psychiatrist and proudly Communist, and he had happened to take a bright shine to you. You considered him unattainable at first, a very well respected brilliant physics teacher with more life experience than you could have dreamed of... He was otherworldly at times, yet found grounding earth in your presence, but it would mystify you what exactly he found so desirable in you. You were as lovely as any other woman your age and smart, but you never thought of yourself as outstandingly intelligent when compared to the people he taught in academia, and not absolutely drop dead gorgeous in terms of prize worthy beauty. Perhaps the attraction, like Robert's scientific passion, was on a molecular scale and only bonded by invisible atoms making the illusion of being a solid relationship. Maybe it was as basic as the fact that you two were mutually compatible with each other and respectable of any differences, unlike his other fiery messy relationships with Jean and Katherine. Would you having a baby split that all apart? Personally, you weren't sure you were ready for any offspring yet and to be thrown into motherhood when you were still navigating having a successful marriage and you highly doubted "The Hill" (as the residents here were calling it) would be a healthy environment for children to thrive in, despite the efforts for a school and daycare, seeing that there were armed uniforms milling about all hours of the day and silent stress was already pervasive in every look, cough, and casual conversation you noticed through passing by. And it was only day one of, as Robert predicated, two to three years of hard work swathed in isolated secrecy.

As daylight began to fade fast and inevitably hand itself over to the darkness, you went back to the house to fry up the chicken. The stove was effective, although one burner seemed a little on the fritz, but half of the cabinetry was unfinished and the counter space was minimal.

Laying out the cream-colored napkins and the finest china you had brought packed securely in a box, you delicately set the table. Despite not having a birth mother to guide you through womanhood, you took to home keeping fairly well and religiously read the magazines, believing being married to an upper class man meant all these details and roles. But privately you also felt the crushing pressure and caught yourself wondering if you were immature to be in this mold. Robert never told you otherwise though and he would theoretically be the last man to stamp out a woman's sense of inner individuality, but you couldn't ignore the fact you, while willingly, still had to sideline your educational and career priorities to come support and live here with your husband. But it didn't matter too much, for you knew in your heart you could follow this man to the ends of the earth if you so desired.

For good ambient measure, you lit two pillar candles in the center of the tablecloth and just as you laid the food on a plate, you heard the front door crack open and the soft clomping of shoes.

Robert would never be the 'Honey, I'm home!' type of husband, yet he always managed to make an entrance regardless, especially now. His slender frame leaned into the doorway, hands crumpling his hat in front of his crotch and the candlelight flashed harrowing ghoulish shadows across his sharp cheekbones and dull pinkish lips.

"Well, what do you think?" you proposed, gesturing to the table spread when he didn't speak. He only gazed at your feminine features, his eyes full of desire that wasn't for the dinner you made, and when his mouth finally parted, he spoke in a husky voice, slowly coming closer and abandoning his hat to a chair, closing in on you.

"I'm sure it is very palatable, but I fear my hunger cannot be fulfilled by only earthly consumption," he confessed, ducking to kiss your cheek and moving his hands up to your neck, caressing your nape and moving his mouth to your lips, but you gently pushed him away, pressing into the fabric of his gray suit jacket.

"We should wait until after dinner," you told him earnestly, knowing what he wanted instead.

"Dessert, then?" he murmured, coming close again despite your light physical resistance and thumbing your bottom lip. You smiled and his arm snaked under your skirt and between your thighs, hand crawling upward to your panties and you breathed in, changing your mind.

"Maybe I can wait to eat after all."

His breath caught, a single finger inches from hitting your covered vaginal area, before he removed his teasing hand and pulled back, gripping your shoulders with conviction.

"Eat. You deserve it and you worked hard on preparing it, I can observe."

He bent down, gentlemanly drawing out a chair for you to sit down in, which you did, letting his hands linger at the neckline of your blouse before he walked around to the other side of the small round table and took a seat, rummaging out a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket and striking it up with his lighter, the smoke wafting in wispy trails around his head. You took a careful first bite, relishing in the flavor and spices (paprika in particular) as he sat there across from you, relaxing back in his chair and taking a drag on the cigarette, puffing out a sigh. You smirked, swallowing a forkful as he kept his gaze steady on you.

"You're making me self conscious, just sitting there surveying my appetite," you told him and he grinned, fiddling with the cigarette.

"I enjoy watching you eat. You are the very essence of life I see lacking in so much of this world."

You blushed in the warm glow of the candlelight, remaining humble.

"That is quite a compliment I don't know if I'm quite worthy of."

"You are, no jury would contradict me." He nodded sincerely as he smoked and you ate in silence for a few minutes before he then finally gave his cigarette a rest and poked at his food, politely taking a few bites of hot chicken and chewing at a snail's pace.

"How did today go?" you tentatively asked, finishing off your own chicken and moving to the rich, crunchy coleslaw.

"We will be making progress. Although I will always say, that General Groves is the most obstinate man with the exact deposition one would expect from a bulldog," he answered with a touch of bitter amusement.

"Should you be saying that? They're... not listening, are they?" you asked in a hushed paranoid voice, glancing around the room and knowing that the phone lines were tapped for sure, but you weren't certain they would go as far to place bugging devices hidden in the house.

"Relax, I could say much worse," Robert admitted nonchalantly with a harmless shrug and you allowed yourself a chuckle, mentally picturing a bulldog in a General's uniform. You took a bite of cabbage, changing the conversation to your side of social contacts in this limited town.

"I met with our neighbors and the other ladies today. They seem cordial and we have already exchanged pleasantries and plans for a party next weekend. I also offered to babysit one mother's two rambunctious little boys and spoke to the doctor at the medical facility about assistance there."

Robert nodded, gesturing with his empty fork.

"Keeping busy I see, but I'll have to arrange to let you in the office sometime instead of spending your days cooped up here and at the neighbors. I missed you and your insight already today."

"But you know I am not privy to everything you and your scientists are doing here..." you started to protest before he cut you off.

"I'm well aware, but I doubt a visit to my own office will cause a security uproar. You are my wife, Y/N. The reason most of the scientists came to Los Alamos in the first place was not solely the work, but because they could bring their wives, their families. We do our best work with moral and... sexual support." He raised his eyebrows and you felt a tingle run through you, a yearning for exactly what he was suggesting, but you had to finish the meal first.

Once you cleared most of your plate, he surprised you by taking the dishes and quickly rinsing the plates in the sink before making and pouring out his signature martinis. You knew Robert must be silently stressed however, for he only took one sip of his drink before he moved outside under the roof awning with his tobacco pipe, settling down on a folding chair and gazing out at the landscape and listening to the low mumble of military personnel mingling about on patrol as though this were a prison (which it was).

You joined him with a cigarette a few minutes later (you had never smoked a single cigarette until you married Robert and unconsciously adopted the habit, but you weren't much of a smoker when it made you cough, yet you kind of enjoyed the nicotine having that convenient effect of temporarily soothing your nerves) and positioned yourself down next to him, letting the cigarette dangle from your lips while folding your hands neatly on your knees.

His eyelids were appearing heavy and his head drooped, chin tucking down. You gave him a bumping nudge and he looked over at you, teeth clamped down on his pipe.

"Tired?" you wondered and he gave a noncommittal grunt, fixing his eyes back straight ahead. You noticed how still he was - calm - and it was a welcome change from the past few weeks where he had been wound up, constantly on the phone at one point or another and gone for many hours in meetings. But now that nearly everyone was all here, it was almost too tranquil... giving the illusion of calm before potential chaos.

"Oppie!" a young man's voice suddenly called out and he came jogging into view on the rock slabbed pathway, halting slightly when he saw you.

"Oh, good evening Ma'am," he greeted courteously with a squinted smile. You smiled in turn, nodding, and he focused to Robert, who gave a tilt of his pipe in acknowledgement and stood up stiffly.

"Any news I should know about, Feynman?"

The man paused, glancing to you warily.

"Is it about the nature of our work?" Robert asked sharply and Feynman shook his head.

"No, sir, it is not pertaining to that."

"Well, whatever it is you can say in front of my wife and I then."

"It's just a communicative matter. There was a phone call from a young woman asking for you earlier that was flagged in the office for personal matters concerning security. Groves is in a fit and I was to inform you tomorrow, but I thought I'd give fair warning and-"

"Then I will address it tomorrow," Robert interrupted and without further word, took your arm and marched you back inside the house. You shook off his touch and shut the door hard, spinning to address him.

"What the hell was that about?"

He closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his forehead while exhaling.

"There are intimate ghosts that continue to haunt me," he answered cryptically, taking refuge in the lounge and sipping his martini, but you had a hunch however who was the "ghost" because you knew her and you pointed a finger sternly at him.

"This is about Jean, isn't it? How does she even know to contact this location? And I thought you were all done with her, as you are with that Katherine!"

"I am, I swear to it. But she is different than any other woman I have been with before you, though. She can be... unstable and she may need to hear from me."

"She just wants your sex, that's all!"

"It's more complicated than that."

"You had nights with her while you were having nights with me during courting, I heard about it from our friends. It was still the sex that was the driving factor that she desired from you."

He looked down, unable to deny that entirely and you backed away, shaking your head.

"I can't believe this, the first day here and you can't shake those Communist ties trailing us."

"May I remind you that you considered fully joining once upon a time in the not so distant past? We met at such a social function, remember?"

You bit your lip and refused to meet his wide eyes staring a hole into you, for this was very well true.

"I did, but I overcame it. It's ridiculous to devote one's energy to an ideology and not to concrete, practical solutions. I was never devoted and absolutely do not consider myself a member. I never was."

This made Robert scowl, setting his glass down with a clink.

"It is my opinion that you should be free to choose your dogmas, if you want any at all that is. Belief is voluntary, but it shouldn't be a crime; we all deserve our wiggle room."

"Is that what she told you too?"

He licked his lips, stepping close so you were involuntarily arrested by his blue eyes boring into yours and his hand slid up your arm, finding your shoulder and the bra strap peeking out from the neckline of the blouse.

"I see you put one on," he muttered and you blinked, almost forgetting about that little detail and refusing to be seduced by his perceptivity.

"Yes, I did. My breasts are still sore from that uncomfortable car ride."

"It's a shame they are so contained now," he whispered, beginning to undo the buttons on the blouse and push his fingers into the crevice between your breasts, but you weren't quite having it after the unresolved discussion and the way he had been moments before.

"We are going to do this now? After what I just accused? And besides, I thought you were too preoccupied and planning to sit out there half the night smoking away by your lonesome while I go to bed."

"You make nights worth bearing awake, especially tonight." He shifted, groping at your breasts and you stumbled back into the wall, breathing in shallow gasps. He put a finger to his lips conspiratorially and hugged your body with his own, speaking discreetly.

"We should be quiet to not disturb any nearby neighbors."

"They can't hear us and besides, I'm sick of piping down," you whined, remembering the date nights out in the desert where he'd lay out a picnic blanket and fuck you right then and there with the horses grazing several feet away and the canopy of stars winking overhead. You'd make as much noise as merited, probably confusing the yipping coyotes far off in the distance.

"I think we can try to control our auditory impulses for one night," Robert whispered, hands going to your waist and tugging at your skirt.

"The bedroom," you gasped, rushing away from him and down the narrow hallway, twisting around as he chased you with a huff.

"Where is it?" you asked anxiously, opening a couple doors and unfamiliar to this section of the house in the minimal lighting, when he suddenly pushed you from behind into an empty room with a single large king bed.

"Only the best for us," he told you and you fell forwards onto it, kicking your heels off and quickly flipping around to your back as he loosened his tie, casting it off to the floor and unbuttoning his white shirt as you sat up, reaching needily for his belt buckle and he leaned over onto you now shirtless and when he met your lips in a frantic kiss, you then noticed the prudent stench of sweat on his skin that was disrupting his usual familiar smoky flavor mixed with cologne and aftershave.

"Wait," you ordered, pressing a hand up on his collarbone.

"What is it?" he implored worriedly, searching your expression for the solution.

"Bath, you should bathe. It's been a few days and this heat isn't helping. Hasn't anyone told you that you reek like a dog?"

He groaned mournfully, leaning back and unfastening the belt, tossing it to the floor with a clunk of metal.

"You won't let me have you until I do?" he asked sadly, but you had an idea.

"What if I join you?"

His eyes sparked at this notion and you moved off the bed, finding the bathroom across the hall. This house was one of only a few equipped with tubs instead of showers; they didn't call this street "Bathtub Row" for nothing.

Robert finished undressing in front of you, tugging down his trousers and boxers, springing forth an already ready penis.

"You're going to make me work for it tonight, aren't you?" he asked as he stepped into the large basin, turning on the faucet and letting out a gasp when a strong stream of water blasted onto his bare feet.

"J-Jesus Christ, it's freezing!" he exclaimed loudly with a sputter and frantically slamming a hand on the knob as you laughed from your spot by the sink, taking out your earrings and slipping off your small wristwatch.

"Get in, I was warned about the water supply around here possibly being fickle, even for us," he commanded as you finagled your skirt and blouse off with your bra and panties discarded to the bathroom floor before taking a leg over the tub and stepping in to sit down across from him, letting the tub fill up one third of the way as a sitz bath before awkwardly reaching around him to grab the bar of ivory soap from the dish and began to rub into his back with it.

"I should've put in a request for an even larger bath," he complained as you scrunched up your legs against his and scrubbed dutifully into the folds of his skin.

"It'll do fine, darling."

He took the soap and you both took turns lathering each other up, making frothy circles with the creamy soap and rinsing, the water streaming down into the tub again, flooding both yours and his soapy complexion, washing it all off down the drain before having it fill up again, this time three quarters of the way. The water now pleasantly lukewarm, Robert contorted his body to submerge his head under the waterline and he came up with a loud splash, his wiry dark hair flattening to a wet mess on his forehead as your own dampened and you watched the droplets of water collect on his somewhat pallid skin. He scooted closer, entangling legs, and couldn't resist a quick dart of a finger down to your vagina and you whimpered as he touched your clitoris, inserting into you and making you arch your back and buck your hips when he inserted another finger, exploring around your wet velvety walls.

"God, Robert..." you moaned, digging your nails into the grooves of his skin and up to his head, feeling the cropped soaked scalp and neck. He suddenly lightly shoved you against the side of the tub, pressing his mouth to yours and naturally winding his tongue in, kissing you passionately until the water temperature grew too cold and you shivered, glued to his body and burying your face into his wet shoulder.

"That was merely the first act, sweetheart," he whispered and you smiled, leaning back a few inches so he could get up and step out onto the bath mat, taking your hand as he did so to pull you up and guide you out. Robert grabbed a large towel from the rack and wound it around the both of you, letting his genitals press up against yours and you both stood there for a while, listening to the steady drip-drop-drip-drop-drip-drop of falling water to the flooring.

"I'm surprised you've held off this long," you murmured, feeling his rising erection in between your thighs.

"I truly can't wait any longer," he admitted urgently and the towel dropped with a flump to the floor, and with bodies still slick with water, you and him exited the bathroom to fumble to the bedroom and the blue light from the window illuminated the sheets, the ideal love making spot. He let you collapse on your back and easily came down on top, gripping the back of your neck and already plunging in to align, but you squirmed in dissatisfaction.

"So soon?" you whined, wanting to play with and taste him first, but he was antsy to get to the pinnacle.

"Your virtuous patience should be framed and put on the walls of this house, along with your divine beauty," he whispered, head moving down to your breasts and you dug your fingers into his bare back, running along the bones of his more pronounced spine.

"C'mon, Oppie, let's do this the fun way... Give it to me," you begged and he cringed slightly, but rolled over onto his side and you immediately found his stiff penis with your hands, clenching around it firmly and stroking. He moaned softly and it flexed in your grasp... He could be a decent size when engaged, which was impressive for his underweight body.

"But don't you dare let me go without seeding you inside," he warned as though you had all the control.

"That's the plan."

Wordlessly, you positioned yourself down to the head of his cock and licked off his pre-cum, the recognizable taste milky on your tongue and you sucked, bringing it halfway in and fondling his balls lovingly in the meantime. He was breathing heavily and you didn't linger long at his member however because you could tell he was getting very close and neither you nor him wanted him to release anywhere other than the intended internal target. Pulling out and licking your lips, you repositioned your body on top of his and sank down flat to his chest, and he thrusted his hips up to meet you, heaving in with a grunt. You winced at the initial entry; you were always so sensitive down there (especially since the miscarriage), and he steadily kept at it, probing in further without being too rough.

"Fuck..." you breathed with a cry and he came forward to smooch your cheek as you mounted your hands on his shoulders and he pumped in and out, shaking the entire bed.

"That's exactly what I'm doing, my love," he breathed, keeping an intense gaze trained on you.

"Robert..." you groaned, letting him push as far as he could go until the pleasure was overloading and you felt his hot wet spurt of cum hit, eliciting a long moan from him, his slender frame shuddering beneath you. He closed his eyes and you kept a firm clench around his shaft, not ready to have him pull out yet. Gasping, you began rocking back and forth with ecstasy, your insides stretched to their limit and he seemed to know you were struggling to hold him.

"I'm coming out," he muttered and gently pulled back wetly so he wasn't balls deep in you anymore and then you repositioned to lightly ride him, which was your favorite position, and you bounced up and down on his upright full cock, orgasming a few more times as he watched your euphoria in rapture, so proud he alone could make you like this over and over until you were out of air and exhausted, collapsing to the side of the bed and feeling the sheets very damp with bodily juices.

Robert spooned you from behind, arms draped over to dangle his fingers on your swollen nipples and you matched his breathing in rhythm. Every time was somehow better than the last... Sex with him was as natural as breathing and you appreciated the consistent chemistry that you worried would have faded after a couple years of marriage due to what you'd heard about stress and boredom destroying a couple's sex drive, but Robert was not a boring person in the least sense of the term.

"We should do this every night," you offered hopefully and he chuckled.

"And make me the most lucky, tired man in this whole community? I'd be up for that, although it'll be a wonder if I get any work done at all when I've got this memory lingering with me tomorrow," he replied and you heard the smile in his tone, but with it came the bitter resurgence of the likely phone call from another woman that was bile in the back of your throat and even though he supposedly broke it off with her before you got married, you knew he had stayed in contact and you couldn't help but wonder how he fucked her and if it was comparable to what you and him had with each other, since she seemed to want him so badly. That wasn't to mention "Kitty" who he had insisted on still being "friends" with. A bit depressed and irritated, you pushed away his hands off your breasts and turned back over to face him in the dimness that made even those prominent blue colored eyes of his too muddled to see into.

"How did you become the most desired physicist to women in the whole country?" you asked softly.

"Good genes?" he guessed in amusement and you shook your head, not requiring a punchline.

"You're known to be a womanizer, neurotic, eccentric, a tad arrogant, and yet everybody seems to want you, including me as your own wife. Tell me, why did the universe give you such magnetized gifts?"

He gave a subtle lift of his shoulders with a small lazy smile as you laid your head on the pillow, fending off fatigue.

"Why was Aphrodite the one chosen to be blessed with such beauty and fertility? Why are we the way that we are? There are some matters of the human being to be unfounded in the definitive and everything is relative." He sat up with his back against the headboard and proceeded to light another cigarette and you sleepily watched the hazy smoke drift off above the bed towards the ceiling. He sighed, setting it to rest in the ashtray on the nightstand and wrap his lean arm around your body, drawing you close into his side.

"You are my goddess, Y/N. You are the only woman I want to return home too, always. Don't you know that?" he murmured into your hair and you vaguely nodded.

"I do, but I also know you're not always the most faithful man."

He lifted his hand and touched his ring finger to yours, matching the simple gold bands you both shared as two united.

"I married you out of good faith and the vows we pledged might have well been written in stone in the language of the gods along on the pulmonary arteries flowing as though a river into my heart," he told you with no trace of doubt, but you knew the whole story that didn't need flourishing.

"Only because the two other women fell through on commitment - although tonight I suspect they both presumably still want you - and one was already hitched, so she was having an affair by being with you and wouldn't divorce unless you happened to get her pregnant. I just happened to be the most available, the convenient bride with no attached strings, even though everyone said it was abnormally soon and I am too young," you recounted bitterly and he frowned, tilting your chin upward.

"Is that how you see it? I have never fallen for someone as fast and as hard as I did for you. I still feel the way I did when I laid a glimpse on you at Mary Ellen Washburn's party."

You smiled despite yourself and he bent to kiss the top of your head as you snuggled into his chest, absentmindedly fondling his moist cock with your fingers.

"I do love you beyond comprehension, Y/N," he whispered and you glanced up, meeting his look.

"I do too and I want to believe I always will, until the end of our existence. I am not those other women and I do not want to become so."

A solemn seriousness grew over him and he closed his eyes as you felt tears suddenly spike and an unexplainable terrible sense of dread came over you.

"Promise me one thing, Robert." You paused, taking a deep breath.

"Promise me that whatever happens to us in this world, in this setting, that you will always find a way home and whatever we face, we face together."

He gave a single nod, but you sensed reluctance in the way a muscle in his jaw made a minor spasm.

"I will always do my best."

"Alright," you resigned and he sighed, relaxing back and settling down into the sheets, further roping his arms around you and you burrowed your face into his chest, feeling his light hair follicles tickle your forehead. Tomorrow - and the future for that matter - was uncertain, but at least tonight was building up to a promise of solid sureness, a safeness, bonding those atoms of love again.

Love, or the feeling of it, was a lot like quantum mechanics; essentially invisible to the naked eye and complicated, but the one difference was that it was unmeasurable. No amount of numbers or equations could add up the real affection you felt for your husband, even when the waters became too choppy to be comfortable and it was far from perfect. You just had to cement the fact that you were Mrs. Oppenheimer and that wasn't going to change anytime soon, any disruptive external factors be absolutely damned to hell.

Thanks for reading, expect a little drama for chapter 2... And I do not have a full outline to every part of this fic, so please be patient as I find spare time to work on it and upload. I always appreciate any likes, reblogs, and feedback ❤️

*If anyone would be interested in being tagged, drop a comment and I'll make a tag list for the next part!*

[professional-yapper]

Proximity

Neteyam x Olangi! Reader

Warnings: angst, arranged marriage, reader's sheltered asf and is low-key very awkward and blunt as a result, reader's direhorse dies, Neteyam gets insulted within five seconds of meeting them, slowburn I think, neteyam getting misnamed repeatedly

(nobody ask me about the accuracy of anything)

Neteyam was to be mated to you, the child of the olo’eyktan of the Olangi clan—the nomadic clan of the plains, direhorse riders.

To put it simply, he was nervous. His hands were gripping the edge of his loincloth so tightly he worried vaguely that it might tear. His mother kept sending him worried looks, and his father—Toruk Makto—had his hand on Neteyam’s shoulder, keeping him walking towards the Olangi camp like Neteyam would try to run away.

Since the Olangi were a nomadic people, his father had to plan everything out perfectly so that they would not come when the Olangi had already moved on. It had caused his father a lot of stress, Neteyam knew, but as they approached the camp, his father’s tight grip relaxed.

They'd taken their ikrans most of the way, but his father had made them the last little bit, saying the last time he'd sought out the Olangi his winged mount had startled their direhorses quite a bit, and he didn't intend to repeat the accident.

The camp was made up of simple cloth tents- animal skins, maybe, stretched over wooden poles whittled down to gleaming off-white.

The area was alive with children of all ages running around outside and playing, little squeals and shrieks snatched away by the warm evening breeze.

Cooking fires dotted the ground like red stars, adults and older children tending bubbling pots, haunches of meat skewered and turning slowly.

And, of course, direhorses tied up to the tents themselves, cropping grass peacefully, whickering to one another every so often.

It was nice. Calm. The grass, golden with summer dryness, rasped against Neteyam's calves as he walked. The air was heady with the smell of herbs and animals- not entirely unpleasant, he noted.

As they reached the outskirts of the camp, a small group approached them, the olo’eyktan at the head. He was tall, taller than Neteyam's father, with a bone piercing through his nose. The rest of the group was composed of a shorter woman with long, dangling bone earrings who Neteyam guessed was the tsahik; three near-identical young men, probably your brothers, all the same height as the olo’eyktan and therefore they towered over Neteyam, even from a distance; and a young person painted in rich, earthy colours, decorated with bone jewelry. The olo’eyktan’s youngest. You.

Neteyam’s future mate.

His father and the olo’eyktan both performed the usual greeting, and Neteyam was prodded forward to do the same. Tuk, Kiri, Lo’ak and their mother remain behind Neteyam and their father, but he can feel their support wholeheartedly, warm and constant.

At least, the support of Tuk and his mother. Kiri is less than pleased with the union, but then again, she is rarely pleased with anything. She says it's barbaric, the arrangement of a mating between two people who have never met.

Lo'ak just despises that Neteyam's new mate will take up his time, time that Lo'ak thinks should be spent on more entertaining things. Like disobeying their parents and whatnot.

You returned the gesture, and Neteyam realised with a little spark of sick fear that this was it. You would return home with him and his family, and you would be his mate. You would be together forever, in the eyes of Eywa.

He couldn't even begin to imagine how that would go. Your expression was blank, devoid of any emotion that could possibly clue him in to how you were feeling.

Your eyes, outlined boldly in red, flicked over him, and he felt oddly naked beneath them.

Then you made a face that was somehow both confused and disbelieving. “How do you climb with those legs, or even keep your balance with that tail?” you asked him, voice cutting through the serene silence.

One of your brothers muffled a snort, earning a sharp elbow from one of the other two.

“Parultsyìp!” the tsahik, your mother said, scandalised. Lo’ak stiffens beside Neteyam, and Neteyam knows his brother well enough to know that a rude retort is on the tip of Lo’ak’s tongue.

You wince at your mother's cry, ears flattening against your head in childish irritation.

Of course, you hadn't intended to be rude. Why would you? You weren't stupid, you knew you had to make this work or you would be miserable for the rest of your life.

But you had never seen Omaticaya before. You'd grown up on tales of Toruk Makto, of course, the sky demon with the skin of any average Omatikayan man, who'd come from a star and saved the Omaticaya- sort of, your older brother Kalzi had whispered to you afterwards, just giving you one of his annoying, knowing smiles when you had asked him what he meant.

You hadn't even been born when Toruk Makto came to your tribe, seeking their help.

But Toruk Makto was your childhood hero. Big and strong and smart and... Oh, everything in between.

You had imagined the Omaticaya to look something like you, of course. Strong limbs, hard with muscle from an early age. Though, of course, their muscle would be born from climbing trees and whatnot, rather than wrangling and spending days on the back of a direhorse.

Thick tails, for balance- though, again, theirs would be needed for balance when high up as opposed to when riding.

Not that you had spent much time thinking on the appearance of a tribe you had never seen in your life. It, stupid though it seemed now, had just been something you'd pondered once and accepted ever since.

Yes, now it seemed incredibly stupid, as you stood there staring at your future mate, whose name you didn't even know. Neteyam, you think your mother has told you.

And, of course, your mouth had gotten ahead of you and voiced your confusion and disbelief before you could stop yourself.

Your future mate (Neteyam?) stared back, expression carefully calm.

His little brother didn't seem so inclined, however, and was giving you a glare strong enough to burst your head like an overripe fruit.

"Apologise," your father said firmly, his hand coming down on the back of your neck. Hard.

"Oh, there's no need-" Toruk Makto began awkwardly, waving a hand in dismissal. "They didn't mean it badly."

Your father made you apologise anyway.

You weren't a kid anymore, but you sure as hell felt like one as you forced out the most sincere apology you could muster, still staring at Neteyam in disbelief, eyes roving over every inch of his abnormal body.

To his credit, Neteyam accepted your apology graciously, carefully avoiding meeting your eyes again.

"Well," your older brother Zütxu said cheerfully, clapping his hands. "This has been sufficiently awkward. Join us for dinner? It's the least we can do, since you've come all this way. My idea was to put them on their direhorse and send them on their way and be done with them, but-"

"Zütxu!" your mother said, clutching at her nonexistent pearls for a second time. "Must all my children make disgraces of themselves?! Great Mother."

"We'd love to join you for dinner," Toruk Makto cut in smoothly, ushering his family forward.

Lo’ak is still annoyed with your earlier insult. Neteyam can feel his younger brother bristling at his side, but he simply nudges Lo’ak. “You cannot blame them for being confused. They have never seen Omaticaya before,” he murmurs.

“You don't know that!” Lo’ak hissed in response. “They were being a jerk!”

“Ao’nung was the same way, remember?” Neteyam reminds his brother. “But he is a good friend now. They will not be like that always.”

“You have too much faith,” Lo’ak grumbled, before squinting up at his brother. “It’s because they're attractive, isn’t it?”

Neteyam just scoffs and smacks Lo’ak upside the head.

A few minutes later, they are seated around a bonfire with the rest of the Olangi clan, everyone eating and talking happily. Neteyam finds himself seated next to you, as he expected.

You are silent, the fire reflecting in your eyes, in your glistening body paint, in a way Neteyam cannot help but stare at.

Then your eyes flick to him, glancing over his face momentarily, before they drop back down to the food before you. "I am sorry, even if I don't seem it," you say after a moment. "It was stupid of me to make assumptions. And... even more stupid of me to act like you should've fulfilled expectations you weren't even aware of."

"It's fine," Neteyam shrugged. "I'm not upset or anything. I guess it's justified. I didn't know what you were going to look like either."

You nod. A few moments pass as you pick at your food before you speak again. "I thought you would look more like me." You take a minute to explain your theory to him, flushing as you do.

Neteyam laughs, the beads in his braids clicking against one another as he moves, his eyes glittering in the firelight also. He tilts his head, shifting a little closer to you. "May I?" he asked, reaching for your arm.

You nodded, holding it out for him to take, confusion written in your face.

Neteyam grips your arm gently, feeling the corded muscles within. "Omaticaya are not so bulky," he said carefully. He didn't want to upset you in some way. Of course, you'd already insulted him, but you'd apologised and he could see you hadn't meant it in such a harsh way. "In the forest, we have no need for it."

You nod, touching his own arm with your free hand, noting how you can wrap your hand around it entirely. "We ride before we can walk," you say, taking his hand and pressing his fingers into the top of your thigh so he can feel for himself. "Our leg muscles develop first. From riding and also hunting on foot. Then our arms, from handling direhorses and whatnot. Our core muscles too. Mama says we developed thicker bodies to accommodate the strength we need for our lifestyle."

Neteyam nods, feeling the hard muscle beneath your dusty blue skin, though he's careful not to let his curiosity cross any boundaries. He can feel his ears angling forwards to catch your words as you speak quietly, the rattle of the off-white beads in your own hair, his skin tingling with warmth as you wrap your hand around his arm.

He has hopes for this union after all.

This is deffo going to have a part two lol. Reader is also pretty much an Aonung variant I realise now. Idk if any of what I said about the Olangi is canonical it's all what makes sense to me. Please please tell me your thoughts!!! 🫶

Part two >

[crisalidaseason]

From Parapet to Threshing - Tairn's POV

Summary: In which we see Tairn's thoughts as he chaperones Andarna and ends up gaining a rider in the process (from Parapet to Threshing) CW: Tairn being a girl dad, Andarna being an iconic feathertail, Spoilers for Fourth wing, Set in book 1, Sgaeyl is mother, one suggestive line (mdni), also this is a bit more than 4k words

A grumble was his only response to the hatchling beside him.

“I sense your impatience” Sgaeyl’s low voice echoed in Tairn’s head, managing to inflame his growing irritation.

“How am I supposed to be patient when the Golden one will not cease her pestering!”

“She is young, you were her age once” his mate countered.

“I do not recall being this insolent”

The sound of Sgaeyl’s amusement rumbled in his head, still low considering the distance between the two mates.

“Then your memory is finally catching up to your age” Sgaeyl teased “what is it that she wants?”

Train chuffed at her response.

“I want to fly outside the vale” the younger voice intruded in the conversation.

Train huffed once more, leaving his mate to deal with the antics of the hatchling. He had heard enough of her incessant demands to leave safety.

“You will not do such thing!” his mate commanded “you are not to leave the Vale”

“I could go with you” Andarna’s voice was small “Your rider needs your presence today, let me join”

“I will not repeat myself, you will not fly above the Vale!” Sgaeyl's impatience was evident.

There was a reason for Tairn being the one to deal with the hatchling’s tantrums more often, Sgaeyl had a temper unmatched.

“I have said so for the past hour” Tairn complained “She does not listen, as per usual”

Andarna’s upset growl was the last thing she spoke before closing herself for communication.

“Watch over her” Sgaeyl muttered “knowing this little one, she will attempt to fly on her own”

“Of course, I shall happily chaperone the hatchling as if that was my greatest duty” Tairn’s voice dripped in sarcasm.

Sgaeyl did nothing but huff at him, but mind at rest knowing Tairn would watch over Andarna either way since - as a bonded dragon - his mate often did not have time to teach and care for the young dragon. Tairn watched as the golden scales disappeared inside the cave guarding the other hatchlings and decided to rest near the entrance, waiting for the chance Andarna decided to test him yet again. He watched with familiarity as the morning shine disappeared and storm clouds formed in the sky, the droplets of water hitting his scales, not a good omen for the humans crossing the death bridge.

“Was it raining that day?” Andarna’s voice was quiet.

“I’ve lived many days” he replied, already sure of her meaning.

“The day your last rider crossed the bridge”

Tairn let a puff of steam out of his lungs.

“I do not wish to speak of him” he warned.

“Just this question, please” she pleaded “I will not bother you after”

He highly doubted it, but decided to indulge just this once.

“If I answer, you shall not ask more about it”

“I will not” the hatchling promised.

“It was raining, but not as much as this morning. Question answered, now rest!”

She remained silent, but Tairn could sense worry before her communication severed. Her behavior was new - it had been strange lately. She was insistent to explore outside the Vale, restless, asking about Sgaeyl’s bond with her rider with insistence.

“I am returning” Sgaeyl’s voice echoed a few hours later “the humans are done with their ritualistic death bridge”

Her navy scales soon emerged from the still storm filled sky, landing soundly beside Tairn and encouraging other dragons to keep their distance.

“Torched any frail human out of amusement today?” he asked.

“I have not” she replied, taking offense “I have restraint”

Tairn let out a huff of laughter. She had as much restraint as Andarna.

“Yes, do insult me” she hissed “I’ll have you take Andarna hunting for the entire waning moon”

The black dragon quickly let go of his courageous teasing, Sgaeyl was a dragon of honor and words. His mate soon joined their resting place, the black dragon lifting one of his massive wings to fit her frame under. He laid his head over her neck, chest rumbling with her proximity.

“There are many strong humans this year” she said after a moment of silence.

The black dragon let a puff of steam into the air, the heat mixing with the cold droplets of water.

“I will not bond Sgaeyl” his tone was firm “he was my last”

“The war is near, you are a war dragon” Sgaeyl snarls.

Tairn saw no point to that discussion - a conversation both of them repeatedly had over the last years. He knew how it would end and decided that sharing bitter words was not something he wanted that day, the rain brought too many unpleasant memories. His massive frame carefully moved around Sgaeyl’s, untangling himself from her and preparing to fly.

“You will fly away again”

“You know my decision better than any other” he said “It was my choice then and it remains my choice now. I will not take another rider”

With that, Tairn stood to his full height and spread his wings, flying away to the mountains. A common behavior whenever the subject was brought up yet again by elders and his mate. He had taken a last chance, a choice that left him scarred and almost took his last breath. He would fight when the time came, but he would never relive the pain of losing another rider ever again.

______

“Speak some sense into her mind!” Sgaeyl’s voice was loud, commanding.

“You think I have not tried?” he replied “not only has she forsaken my words, but successfully managed to have the elders allow her to see the humans”

Andarna’s latest victory still rattled in Tairn’s mind. He did not know what possessed the young dragon to wish to be near the unbonded humans, curiosity certainly not being the sole reason. All he could do was accept once the elders allowed her to participate in the presentation. He had asked the golden dragon about her reasoning for such recklessness countless times before, but none of her answers were satisfactory.

“The little one is naive if she thinks she can bond at that age” Sgaeyl worry flew through their bond “she cannot possibly plan to do so”

Tairn would not put past Andarna to disobey the rules, the dread settled in his gut thinking about it. A hatchling with her abilities bonding with a greedy human would be destructive to her and all feathertails.

“I will watch over her, to be certain she won’t approach the humans” Sgaeyl’s verdict seemed certain enough “my rider will not need me”

“I will be minutes away” he guaranteed.

Later that afternoon, he saw through his mate’s eyes as the small feathertail kept her distance while the humans walked. The golden dragon seemed disinterested, resting on the ground. Tairn wondered if she was only curious after all, if seeing the humans proved to be below her expectations and soon her desire to explore would subside…until she perked up and stood in complete attention. Her tail moved from side to side, her head lowered near the ground - following the humans intently with her eyes.

“What is it?” Tairn demanded “Andarna!”

But the feathertail did not reply, nor did she pay Sgaeyl any attention either.

“She is watching the smaller female” his mate replied instead “the one who smells of blood”

He could not smell the blood from the distance, but Sgaeyl provided him with the perfect view of the woman. She was smaller than her other peers, hands covered in dark cloth, an unusual silver color in her hair. The small human took notice of Andarna with as much intensity as the feathertail. Andarna’s interest was evident as she followed the human with her golden gaze, taking a small step towards the human.

“Golden one!” Train’s voice was louder and authoritative “do not approach!”

“Who the hell would bond that thing?” a human male said, pointing at Andarna.

Tairn’s chest grumbled a threat. Insolent human.

“They can hear you” the silver woman warned.

The humans kept speaking about the feathertail, trying to understand her presence. Two of the humans were more than deserving of scorching.

“I shall have the pleasure” Sgaeyl growls.

“You should totally bond it, Sorrengail. You’re both freakishly weak. It’s a match made in heaven” the man taunted the silver one.

“Burn him first” Andarna’s voice was full of fury “She is not weak”

Her words rattled in his head, proving the suspicion that her interest was not on the humans, but one human only. He would have to discuss it with Sgaeyl later.

“It looks powerful enough to burn you to death” the silver woman answered the man’s words.

Another man rushed to the insolent one, wisely and aggressively warning him of the dragons nearby. They all began discussing, attentive of the danger surrounding them. Tairn was not one to bother listening to humans, but the insolent one had his full attention with the next words.

“Someone should kill it before it bonds. It’s just going to get its rider killed, and it’s not like we get a choice if it wants to bond us”

Sgaeyl and Tairn growled at the same time. This human would not bond and neither live, the black dragon would see that it happened. He wondered for a few seconds if he should fly to the canyon and scorch the human himself.

“You know what it means if you come here” Sgaeyl said, her attention mostly on her mate at that moment.

Train grumbled, knowing well what his presence in front of the humans would mean for the elders. He would not bond, nor give them reasons to believe so.

“I can have others burn him” he simply grumbled.

“Sgaeyl could” Andarna replied.

“I might, though my rider would suffer the consequences” the navy dragon murmured.

Sgaeyl hid her disappointment fast enough not to subdue their attention to the humans. They returned to their stroll after the tense moment. Train watched attentively as the silver human spoke with her comrades, mostly chattering until her next words.

“I mean, it could be worse. We could be walking past a line of wyvern, right?”

Tairn went rigid and he felt Sgaeyl’s mutual feelings settling in their bond.

“Could she know?” Andarna whispered, but none of the adult dragons replied.

“Oh please, Violet, do give us one of your nervous-babble story times” another woman scorns “Let me guess. Wyvern are some elite squad of gryphon riders created because of something we did at a battle only you can manage to remember with your scribe brain”

“You don’t know what a wyvern is?” another asked “Didn’t your parents tell you bedtime stories, Luca?”

“Do enlighten me”

“They’re folklore” the silver one answered “Kind of like dragons but bigger, with two feet instead of four, a mane of razor-sharp feathers streaking down their necks, and a taste for humans. Unlike dragons, who think we’re a little gamey”

“She does not” Tairn confirmed.

Her description was accurate for someone who believed it to be bedtime stories. Suddenly, he shared a small part of Andarna’s interest in the small human.

“I can feel your interest” his mate commented, but he remained silent.

The silver human reminisced in a childhood tale, one full of the said folklore. Andarna was unusually quiet, only observing the her as much as Tairn was.

“Yegdra” Sgaeyl quickly warned.

Tairn could see as the red swordtail stepped out of the dragon line and approached the humans.

“No!” Andarna screamed “Do not hurt her”

“Andarna, do not interfere!” Tairn warned.

Yegdra was quick to breathe fire into a weakling man within the group. The black dragon tried his best to conceal his relief that the silver one still stood - alive. Andarna would have been devastated otherwise, he convinced himself.

Though the feeling was short lived.

Two green dragons walked towards the small woman, who was recklessly distracted by another human. As soon as she turned, the fear in her eyes was evident - though she masked it well. They breathed steam onto her, and Tairn could feel the apprehension in Andarna’s non-coherent words. The dragons quickly assessed the silver one’s hands.

“I cut my hands climbing the obstacle course” her tone was nervous, but clear.

They continued their assessment, smelling her midsection attentively. Tairn silently urged the woman to continue her speech, indulge the dragons.

“You smell Teine, don’t you?” her voice was firmer than before “I’m Mira’s sister, Violet. She collected Teine’s scales after he shed them last year and had them shrunk down so she could sew them into the vest to help keep me safe”

She spoke to them, whispering a few more sentences before they let her return to her stroll. He listened as she laughed a few times while assuring her companions, but her laughter held no arrogance.

“Have you quenched your curiosity, little one?” Sgaeyl asked.

Andarna’s excitement was all the answer she gave and he now was certain of her attachment to the silver woman.

“Andarnaurram” his voice was gentle, yet firm “you shall not bond, you know it”

Her shimmering golden frame sunk. He felt no pleasure in her sorrow, but he could not allow the hatchling to bond, even if the woman was seemingly honorable enough, the dangers were too much of a risk to take. The turbulent irritation coming from the other side of his bond assured him Sgaeyl shared his despair.

______

“What do you know of the woman?” Train asked.

Sgaeyl’s left eye opened, staring into his, the dark moonless night doing nothing to dull their shimmer. Her tail slowly stroked his left hind leg, careful not to harm his scales.

“I know enough. Against my will, of course ” she replied “my rider has an invested interest in her despite their family matters”

Tairn huffed at her answer.

“Spare me of your rider’s lust-tainted opinions, what do you see?”

“A fragile body, she is easily breakable. Though I must admit she is intelligent, observant, courageous albeit naive and reckless as you have noticed today” she replied “also trustworthy in keeping my rider’s secrets”

He felt as his mate sent him images of her, blurry considering it was her rider’s inferior sight that composed most of the memories. One of them caught his attention, pale eyes locking briefly with Sgaeyl’s as his mate assessed her from the roof of a courtyard. Sgaeyl shared with him the smell of fear and determination, the steadiness despite the intimidating actions of the navy blue dragon. Not many stood still under his mate’s gaze.

“Many share the woman’s qualities and flaws” Tairn spoke “there must be another reason for Andarna’s interest”

“Indeed, but we will not know because the little one will not bond” Sgaeyl’s gave her ultimatum “I might not sense greed or cruelty on the woman, but I will not trust her with Andarna’s bond”

__________

“I will watch over her” Sgaeyl said to him as she prepared to fly to her rider.

Andarna exhaled happiness that morning. Tairn noticed as she ate carelessly, too ecstatic to focus on her sustenance in a proper way. The black dragon remained silent, still livid at the elders who allowed her to watch the humans in their hunt for a dragon. Despite his and Sgaeyl’s attempts at warning the elders, the result was far from satisfactory.

“She shall not bond now, she will be of no use for her rider until fully grown” their words were nothing but mere advice.

“I still wish you rethink your decisions, Golden one” the black dragon said as they flew from the vale.

“I just want to see her” she replied with her softest voice “I will behave”

Tairn grumbled. Andarna and behavior were only similar if there was mischief involved.

“You must listen to Sgaeyl, if she orders you to leave, do so” he warned “I will be near should you not obey her”

She huffed at Tairn as a reply.

“I will be minutes away” he sent to his mate “do not hesitate to call me”

He accompanied Andarna half of the way as she flew to the forest below, he landed behind the cover of the mountains, expectant to any danger or disobeyment from the young dragon.

“Remember what I said, Golden one” he grumbled one last time “observe only, do not draw attention”

“I know” she replied, unfocused on his words as the humans began their race.

The sun moved slowly in the sky, with every passing hour feeding into Tairn’s impatience. He called Sgaeyl through his bond, feeling her growing irritation.

“She exposes herself!” her words were menacing.

Through her eyes, Tairn saw as Andarna caught the sunshine with her golden scales, becoming a beacon of light to whomever noticed.

“As if she would listen to a word I say” Tairn growled.

“Tairn! My rider says three humans wish to harm herl” His mate’s panic swim through the bond, fueling the black dragon’s fury.

“Andarna, enough!” He growled “return with me to the vale this instant!”

The golden dragon refused to comply, laying on the grass with her head attentive to the treeline.

“I will end this” Sgaeyl snarls “we should have forbidden her, the elders could rot in their verdict”

He sensed as Sgaeyl flew closer to him, sharing her sight as she landed behind a treeline encasing the clearing in which the hatchling sunbathed.

“Andarna, I will not repeat myself. Fly to Tairn!” his mate’s voice was stern, but Andarna did not move.

Movement from the opposite side of the treeline captured the blue dragon’s attention. The silver one hid within the trees.

“You have to get out of here!” her voice is low, but enough for Sgaeyl and Andarna to hear “They’re going to kill you if you don’t leave!”

Tairn watched attentively through Sgaeyl. Maybe the stubborn hatchling would actually listen-

Of course not. Andarna remained seated, her head tilting as she watched the woman curiously.

“Yes! You! Goldie!” the woman insisted.

“Golden one, return! Other humans wish to hurt you” Tairn warned again, preparing to fly.

“They are already here” Sgaeyl growled, but desperation painted her words “I cannot interfere, Tairn, my rider is bound by the human laws”

Three men broke through the treeline, armed with blades. Andarna had at least the sane mind to growl at them, assuming a defensive position.

“We’ll make it painless” one of the men spoke.

“Tairn!”

He began his ascent through the mountains, rocks crumbling under his talons as he gradually gained momentum to fly as fast as possible. Another growl from Sgaeyl caught his attention.

“Reckless woman!” his mate snarled.

Tairn focused on his mate’s sight for a brief moment, seeing as the silver haired woman stood in front of Andarna with small blades in hand. Her steps carefully measured, but clearly strained in his advanced sight.

“You’re going to have to get through me, then” the woman’s voice echoed through their bond.

“The silver one is injured” Tairn warned “put your rider to use within his limits until I arrive!”

He finally flew over the mountain, his wings wildly beating as he seeked the gold color amongst the sea of green. With the clearing in sight, he watched from above as the three men ran to attack, which impulsed the dragon to fly even faster. The small silver woman returned the aggression viciously, quick and calculated movements despite the injury.

“One of them fled, but she cannot hold much longer” Sgaeyl said “fly faster!”

He would deal with the insult at his speed on a later occasion. Tairn dived to the clearing, in time to see one of the attackers unconscious and the other wounded. The silver woman’s scarlet blood painted her side but he noticed that Andarna seemed unharmed. His rage boiled inside his guts, seeing as the coward man intended to strike the unarmed woman for protecting one of his kin. He recognized the man as the one who threatened Andarna’s life before. He growled in pleasure. He would burn the insolent low life himself.

“I knew you would come” the hatchling’s voice was ringing with joy “she intends to die for me, do not let it happen!”

Tairn was right above them as the man cowardly prepared to strike. The black dragon landed, the ground trembling under his weight and the wind disorienting everyone in the clearing. Tairn did not hesitate as he reached for the woman’s mind, the silver strands of her mind quickly entangling with his as if expecting it since the beginning of times.

“Tairn!” Sgaeyl’s tone was unmistakably surprised.

“Not now” he replied.

“Step aside, Silver One” he spoke sternly in the woman’s mind, eyes on the despicable man in front of his massive form.

Did he just speak to me? Her voice echoed in his head in return. He almost sighed in frustration, who else would he speak with?

“Yes. You. Move” he ordered.

The silver woman stumbled away and he did not hesitate to open his maw and breathe the most searing fire he could muster upon the running man. When the threat was burnt out of existence, he turned his golden eyes to the small woman below him - now his rider. She was bleeding profusely from her arms, her weight focused on her uninjured foot. In her face, disbelief was evident. Tairn noticed the unconscious man on the ground, still breathing.

“You should end the enemy at your feet” he advised.

“I can’t kill an unconscious man” she shouted, shaking her head.

“He would kill you if given the same chance”

She studied the man, hesitant.

“Well, that’s a statement on his character. Not mine”

Tairn blinked at her. Courageous and fierce enough to defend a dragon - who was safe from harm considering Sgaeyl and Tairn were near - but naive to let an enemy live to see another sunrise. He would have to deal with her naivety later, for now her intelligence and bravery would be more than enough.

“You bonded the woman” Sgaeyl spoke again.

“I am aware” he replied “I made my choice”

His mate flew past them, leaving him and his rider to complete the human ritual. The amount of blood pooling around her feet was alarming, he would not have an unconscious rider.

“You’re bleeding. Stop it” he warned.

“It’s not that simple when you’ve been run through with a—” she began arguing “You know what? That’s a great idea”

She wrapped her arm with torn cloth, a practiced motion. He noticed her hands were still bound.

“There. Better?” she said, looking at him almost defiantly. He understood the recklessness.

“It will do” he replied “Your hands are bound, too. Do you bleed often?”

The woman looked at her wrapped hands, bittersweet features on her exhausted face.

“I try not to” she answered.

Tairn let out a dissatisfied sound. Reckless woman, indeed. He would have to build her self-preservation.

“Let’s go, Violet Sorrengail” He simply said, ready to be done with the theatrics of human events. Andarna - who was safely shielding under his wing finally left her hiding spot, her joy barely contained as she watched the scene unfold.

“How do you know my name?” she asked in surprise.

Tairn sighed in annoyance and frustration, disturbing the trees in the process.

“And to think, I’d almost forgotten just how loquacious humans are. Get on my back”

“Get on your back? Have you seen you? Do you have any idea how huge you are?”

“Be patient!” Andarna’s voice was pleading “she is new to this!”

Tairn grumbled and narrowed his eyes in annoyance to the human girl.

“One does not live a century without being well aware of the space one takes up. Now get on” he wanted this to be over, and soon!

Unfortunately, his new rider seemed to test him just as much as the hatchling he took under his care.

“I can’t just leave it. What if Oren wakes up or Jack comes back?” she argued once more, pointing at Andarna.

“Will you fly so the silver one and I can be done with this?” he warned the smaller dragon.

Andarna quickly took flight, to the surprise of his rider.

“Get. On” he growled, patience already running thin.

“You don’t want me” she spoke once more “I’m—”

“I’m not going to tell you again” his voice is a command.

At least that time she did listen. Though he knew that would be a rare occasion.

[bowletta]

SRMTHFG Watch Guide

Hi everyone! I made a list for newcomers who are interested in watching SRMT but don't know where to start! : ]

'Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go!' (Yes, that's really the title, 'SRMTHFG' for short) was a cartoon that aired from 2004-2006 on Jetix/Disney Channel.

It's about a boy and his team of cybernetic monkeys saving the universe from the evil Skeleton King. It sounds ridiculous... but it is so unironically good. There is plot. There is trauma. There are wacky antics. You can watch the entire series on YouTube, in HD, for free lol.

There's two versions of the show:

1080p HD, widescreen, censored (YouTube Link)

480-720p, cropped, uncensored (YouTube Link)

Personally I would recommend the HD cut. I am working on compiling every censored scene, nearly all of which are under 3 seconds (graphic violence, blood, etc.).

Under the read more is a guide to what episodes to watch, avoid, etc.

Symbol Guide:

Regular Text: Fine episode, but not required

*: Plot relevant

Bold Text: Good episode

Red: REALLY good episode

Strikethrough: Bad. Skip.

Season 1:

Chiro's Girl*

Depths of Fear

Planetoid Q

Magnetic Menace

The Sun Riders

Secret of the Sixth Monkey*

Pit of Doom*

Thingy

Flytor

A Man Called Krinkle

Ape New World

Circus of Ooze

Hidden Fortress*

Season 2:

Skeleton King*

World of Giants

The Lords of Soturix 7

In the Grip of Evil*

Versus Chiro*

Shadow Over Shuggazoom

The Sun Riders Return

Hunt for the Citadel of Bone*

Snowbound*

Wonder Fun Meat World

The Skeleton King Threat

Antauri's Masters*

I, Chiro*

Season 3:

The Savage Lands: Part I*

The Savage Lands: Part II*

Season of the Skull

A Ghost in the Machinder*

The Stranded Seven

Girl Trouble

Brothers in Arms

Monster Battle Club Now!

Meet the Wigglenog

Big Lug

Prototype*

Wormhole*

Belly of the Beast*

Season 4:

Galactic Smash: Space Attack

Galactic Smash: Game Over

Incident on Ranger 7

Ghosts of Shuggazoom*

Invasion of the Vreen

Evil Ages

Night of Fear*

The Hills Have Five

Demon of the Deep

Secret Society*

Golden Age*

Object of Hate*

Soul of Evil*

TLDR; Here's a condensed list of good/plot episodes you should watch if you don't want to watch all 52 episodes VVV

Season 1:

EP 1 - Chiro's Girl*

EP 6 - Secret of the Sixth Monkey*

EP 7 - Pit of Doom*

EP 8 - Thingy

EP 13 - Hidden Fortress*

Season 2:

EP 1 - Skeleton King*

EP 4 - In the Grip of Evil*

EP 5 - Versus Chiro*

EP 8 - Hunt for the Citadel of Bone*

EP 9 - Snowbound*

EP 12 - Antauri's Masters*

EP 13 - I, Chiro* (Best EP of the series in my opinion)

Season 3:

EP 1 - The Savage Lands Part I*

EP 2 - The Savage Lands Part II*

EP 4 - A Ghost in the Machinder*

EP 5 - The Stranded Seven

EP 7 - Brothers in Arms

EP 10 - Big Lug (SO many good reaction faces)

EP 11 - Prototype*

EP 12 - Wormhole*

EP 13 - Belly of the Beast* (Tied with I, Chiro for best EP)

Season 4:

EP 4 - Ghosts of Shuggazoom*

EP 5 - Invasion of the Vreen

EP 7 - Night of Fear*

EP 9 - Demon of the Deep

EP 10 - Secret Society*

EP 11 - Golden Age*

EP 12 - Object of Hate*

EP 13 - Soul of Evil*

Thank you all for coming to my TED Talk on these silly monkeys lol, I hope you all have fun watching!

(Gif by @/sweetcircuits)

[lilap20]

CHAPTER I : The meeting of eyes

In the year 105, King Viserys organized moments of rejoicing for the birth of his future child, whom he said was the male heir. Rhaenyra 15 years towards his 16th year Nymeria 13 years towards his 14th year

PRINCESS POV

My mind frees as I observe the wings of my dragon getting lost in the clouds having its scale color, Nightmares seems to enjoy the flight although pressed by Syrax behind him who is doing everything to catch up with us.

Starting the day with a dragon race with my eldest is one of the best ways to spend the day. His dragon is bigger than mine in age but mine is taller and wider, its wings more spread than those of Syrax the golden dragon make it fast and agile.

Nightmares growls in the clouds as I dive through them allowing us to see King’s Landing, King’s Landing and the sea around us. The locals pay no heed to the dragons flying overhead, although they roar and growl in unison. Soon we arrive at the Dragonpit and my dragon's large wings make the dust rise. His landing makes the ground vibrate from his weight and he roars in victory because we have won my sister.

A smile hangs on my lips as I climb off him while stroking his long gray-white neck. He simpers a little with his blue gaze in mine as I laugh at my victory.

-Princess, I think it would be good if we allocated a new cave for Nightmares; he is getting too big for a closed cell, I would recommend an open cell. Meivos the goalkeeper intervenes

I nod positively towards the guardian, my hand warm on my dragon's scale and he does the same. Soon the ground is struck by the presence of Syrax and her dragon rider, the golden dragon roars in frustration something that can only make me laugh, and Rhaenyra gets off her, stroking her scales.

-It's nothing, we'll win another day. She whispers

The dragons easily surrender to the guardians and I turn to my sister with a big smile on my lips.

-I got you.

She laughs while pushing me then takes off her gloves with a blissful smile on her lips.

-He will become as big as Caraxes, your dragon.

-I hope so. I respond by taking her by the shoulders, a big smile stretching my lips

Rhaenyra greets the head of our father's Royal Guard and then runs towards her best friend Lady Alicent who is waiting for her in the carriage. I walk past them, glancing in greeting at the daughter of the Hand of the King.

-Did you enjoy your walk, Princess Nymeria? She asks with a beautiful smile

-I enjoyed it, thank you Lady Alicent. I answer as someone brings me my horse

I mount my pitch-black stallion without meeting my big sister's eyes. Not a day goes by without Rhae asking me to be more open with others, to get out of my books and open up to the people of this palace and to her friend. I just don't have time for that, I'm focused on my mother's fate, my apprenticeship, and my future trips if possible.

I leave the two young women there while my horse trots before galloping through the streets of the city. Freedom and the wind tangle my curly hair even more and I think my curls escaped from my thin braid once I passed the gates of the Red Keep.

-Ser Erryck, thank you for the welcome. I smile as I get off my horse while he holds the reins

-The Princess left early this morning. Said the man with the big beard like a Dotraki

-I have a lot of things planned before the Lords arrive for the big celebration. I explain as he entrusts my stallion to the squires

Following me closely, my faithful guard Ser Erryck Cargyll asks no more questions, following me wherever I go. We pass by my mother's rooms and he stops in front of the door before knocking on it announcing me.

-Mother, I said as I returned, I am back.

I see her laying on her sofa bed a fan in her hand as beautiful as the sunrise. The strongest woman in the Seven Kingdoms. When she sees me, her pale blue eyes light up and she holds out her hand to me, which I grab while sitting down in an armchair.

-How is my little dragon? She asks a suffering smile

My pale purple gaze slowly darkens as I look at her closer, she is so unwell, and no one wishes to free her from the burden she carries on her shoulders, the conception of a male heir.

-I'm fine mother, flying then galloping, are the best activities to start the day. I respond by stroking his thumb

She smiles at me again, standing up with a grunt and I quickly get up to support her, the servants doing the same. My mother suffers enormously, between unfinished pregnancies, babies who died in childbirth, it is the Gods who prevent her from going through it.

-I pray that the Gods help you mother to get through this ordeal. I breathe while taking a glass of water from him

She takes it with a grateful but grimacing smile as I sit up again running my hands through my completely disheveled hair.

-The Seven? she asks in a sly tone

I run away from his gaze, untangling my braid, letting go of my hair to drink from my glass, a laughing smile on my lips.

My Faith is not with the Seven Gods of these lands, but with the Gods of Ancient Valyria to the great dismay of many Maesters.

-My darling daughter, you should probably take a bath for the dragon scent before tonight, and comb her hair. Advises Queen Aemma to have a more serious look on her face

I stand up to kiss the forehead of the love that gave me life, then head towards the door, nodding.

-I promise mother, only I have to go to the Library, Lady Talyssa is waiting for me there.

-Good learning, my dear.

I close the door smiling at my knight as we head into the Library. Today I am wearing my mother's colors of pale blue, the dress is embroidered in gold, the blue fabric running down to my feet. My curly hair flows over my shoulders and back and the Lords and Ladies of the court bow to my presence, even my shadow.

Finally we arrive in front of the door of the Great Library where my friend and lady-in-waiting, Lady Talyssa, is waiting for me in the company of Maester Aerys.

When they see me, they both turn around and bow, which makes me laugh and roll my eyes.

-No need for that and you know it, I said, stepping forward with my hands clasped in front of me. So where are we?

-The Iron Islands your Highness. The Maester answers me

I like to educate myself, to learn a little more about what constitutes the Kingdom and what lies beyond it, what happened before us, our history.

So I immerse myself in my studies, marking, reading, discussing, to try to put everything together and understand better. When the Sun is high in the sky the servants bring us something to eat, and I barely touch my meal because I am so focused. Lady Talyssa, whose red hair is braided on her head, consults with equal devotion using her blue eyes the books in front of her.

That's how we met, in a library. She had escaped from the group of Lady sent by Tarth to court. I found him in the Great Library reading and looking at the maps. Since that day she has become my lady in waiting and my best friend. We never left each other, and I promised him that together we would travel a lot.

Night falls quickly without me even being able to see it coming, the Maester puts away the books while I still try to decode the language of the Dotraki, one of the most difficult languages ​​to learn. The sound of the door opening doesn't distract me, but my oldest's words do.

-Nymeria, we are expected, and you promised mom to take a bath because of the smell of the dragon. She growls with her hands on her hips

-Excuse me. I stand up to greet each person present

We run towards my apartments where the bath is already ready but probably lukewarm. I quickly undress, forgetting that the servants are there, then dive into my bath, asking for the sponge to soap me.

I hadn't noticed that it was late, I risked making us late. Damn Nymeria.

Once bathed, I am helped to put on my dress for the big bath. A white dress with puffed sleeves and a collar embroidered in red with dragons on it, a golden belt falls from my hips, it is fine and in harmony with the golden designs on my arms.

While Bila does my hair with two small braids gathered at the back that flow over the rest of my silver curly hair, I put on my rings and a beautiful pair of earrings.

-You are ready Princess. Said Eila one of my ladies as she finished tying my shoes

-Thank you girls, you are fast. I sincerely thank you before looking in the mirror

A beautiful Targaryen Princess, a true beauty, that's what my father says, and my uncle and my mother keep repeating. They never cease to salute our unreal and celestial beauty.

-My sister, we are expected. Rhae jumps impatiently

She is thirsty to see the crowd, thirsty to see people celebrating even if her heart keeps reminding her of our mother who is forced to be present this evening despite her suffering.

Rhaenyra is dressed in a golden dress flowing down to her straight feet, there are red trims on her dress and her hair is styled in a braid gathered into a beautiful back bun. Bejeweled I can notice the new necklace on her neck and see how proud she is to wear it. I can smell my uncle there without even seeing him, and Nyra meets my gaze.

-We'll discuss it later, she said, touching the necklace, father is waiting for us. She continues, pulling me with her hand

All the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms are present, even those coming from the North. Our arrival, although late, will be noticed and all eyes will be on us judging by the noise behind its doors.

-Ser Erryck is my mother already in the room? I ask looking at the door

-She is, Princess. My KingGuard answers me.

I swallow as does Nyra who holds my hand encouraging me to go. Ser Erryck asks for the door to be opened and the sight of all these people seated at a table for a newborn who has not yet arrived almost turns my stomach.

Our arrival makes noise, the benches push each other, the cries settle down to a faint whisper as my sister and I cross the room, at the same time the valet announces our titles.

-Princess Rhaenyra and Princess Nymeria Targaryen, daughters of King Viserys I and his Lady, Queen Aemma.

My mother's eyes shine as she sees us walking with our heads held high, while everyone around us lowers them. Nyra and I are one in these moments, even if we are different, both physically and personally. Where Rhaenyra is sophisticated and dazzling, I am natural and simple, but I excel in knowledge while my sister doesn't like studying.

I can see my uncle Daemon smiling at us and I smile back happy to see him. Quickly my sister and I took our respective places. I furtively kiss my mother's forehead before letting my gaze wander over the guests refusing to listen to my father and his dream story once again.

Quickly I find the Northern table and I observe Lord Rickon Stark with his bannermen, next to him, a young man with closed faces and neutral looks is painted in front of me. He looks at the king with a blank expression and alone reflects the Northern beauty, rustic, virile, but with attractive features. His hair is shaved on the sides but braids adorn his head with a small beard his ringed hands are clasped in front of him.

-To the Queen! Do they all shout?

I jump when I hear them, fear painting my face cutting me off from my adoration of the Nordien. Nyra gives me a sideways glance as she sits down and I do the same. How many people noticed my daydream?

I am between my mother and my uncle Daemon, my eldest is between my father and my mother.

My mother, this pure diamond, smiles despite her great fatigue and suffering, dressed like a Queen and wearing her hair like one, she thanks each Lord and Lady who comes to greet her and shower her with gifts.

Discreetly while we are being served the good dishes, I squeeze his hand under the table which attracts his attention. If only she could speak High Valyrian we could have spoken out loud and not whispered.

-How are you ? I ask in one breath

A tender smile appears on his face and his hand caresses my cheek tenderly.

-I'm fine, my miracle, after eating I'll retire to my apartments, the party won't be too long for me. Does she reassure me

I nod gently, turning back to my plate, getting ready to eat. Only I have no appetite, I only eat a little bread and cheese, my turkey and the game hunted for this evening remain intact on my plate.

I huff terribly from boredom, and the guests are already dancing downstairs, Rhaenyra has already lured Alicent for a dance and I enjoy watching them. My eyes fall on the Northerners, and what I see arouses my curiosity. They are loud, and only talk to each other, they are respectful to the maids although some are drunk, but they show no signs of disrespect.

My gaze again finds this same young man next to the Lord of Winterfell, he also laughs, relaxing the features of his face, and while many will think that his features are boorish or brutal, I find them attractive and full of mystical beauty. He looks like a young warrior straight out of my story and poetry books.

My gaze stays on him, and my throat goes dry as I can't look away, behind me I can hear Ser Erryck asking me if everything is okay, but I don't think I really answered.

-His name is Cregan Stark dear niece, he is the future Lord of Winterfell and Governor of the North.

My uncle's voice startles me and I turn quickly towards him. His childish, sly smile that almost never leaves his face when he faces me welcomes me.

-You scared me, Uncle Daemon. I respond by pushing him a little

His laugh makes me laugh, he has always managed to make me laugh even when I am concentrated in my studies, he is the one who relaxes us in times as oppressive as tonight.

-And you, you are almost drooling on the Northerners' table. Daemon mocks

I feel the blush rising in my face and look away from my uncle to look at them again, young Cregan Stark does not move from his remaining seat with his father while others from his table go off to dance.

-He must be in his tenth and eighth year, and he is very tense. His fighting skills are exemplary and worthy of a true warrior. Continue my uncle always with this sly smile

-Why tell me all this? I finally ask looking at him again

His smile widened.

-And take off that smile if you want. I blush even more

-You are so curious, my dear niece, I thought you would like to know more about the young Lord. He replies, shrugging his shoulders.

I lower my eyes to answer.

-Perhaps you are not wrong, uncle.

Daemon bursts into loud laughter and even though the music is loud, some people notice him, including young Stark. My body becomes one with the chair now that I meet his black gaze as deep as the night. He doesn't smile, only nods at me and I do the same, watching him then turn to his father to argue.

-You got me noticed. I scold annoyed at my uncle

-A good point for you, it will be easier for you now to ask him to dance. He said, winking at me.

My fist goes to his shoulder and he laughs a little more calming down, then out of nowhere he pulls out a small bag and hands it to me.

-Gifts from my travels, hoping that they will allow me to be forgiven for my indiscretion.

I can see my mother glancing at the bag containing the presents my uncle gave me, though she's not worried about what he might give Rhaenyra because usually they're jewelry, she's Worried about me because my uncle is bringing me more masculine gifts.

My eyes light up when I first take out a magnificent compass and when I open it tears almost fall.

-It's made of pure gold, I couldn't help but draw your Dragonstone marker above the hands. He explains

Indeed the mark of all Targaryens is engraved on the top face inside the compass, the hands can point to all the kingdoms of the Seven Kingdoms and the worlds explored by man thanks to the drawing on it.

-She is magnificent, uncle. I thank the throat tied with emotion

-If you like it, I'll be delighted. He said with a sincere smile

A muffled noise cuts off our discussion and I turn to my mother who gets up as discreetly as possible. I waste no time and get up to help him as best I can.

-Don't get up Prince Daemon, she said, stopping Daemon who was heading towards her, I want to go out discreetly, without attracting more attention.

Daemon nods and my mother smiles gratefully at him before slipping into the arms of her ladies who carefully guide her towards her chambers. I sit back down, not without looking at her until she disappears from my field of vision.

-Ser Erryck? I call softly but firmly

-Yes Princess? The guard kneels to be at my height

-Follow my mother until she returns to her chambers, then please come back, I want to make sure the ride goes well.

My gaze meets his and he responds with a nod before walking towards my mother. Despite the presence of my most faithful companion, I do not feel reassured.

-Everything will be fine, my little traveler, your mother is strong, and your knight is with her. Daemon reassures me

-Thank you Uncle, I smile.

-Now that no one is really looking at us and your knight is not here, here is your second gift.

Daemon takes out a long leather sleeve from his large bag at the foot of the table and my heart panics.

-It is…

-Take it out, but discreetly. Daemon whispers

I look around making sure no one is looking at me then I caress the leather before grabbing the gift's grip. I take a sword out of the sheath, and my eyes flow with tears that I hold back. It is medium but large, a gold bracelet surrounds the leather sleeve its touch is almost like that of dragon scales, and the blade is as thin as a needle. The Targaryen symbol sits on top of it and I can't help but widen my eyes.

-It’s Valyrian steel. I whisper amazed

-Yes, like Dark Sister. Now put that blade away before someone confiscates it from you.

I put away my beautiful sword, and jump into the arms of my surprised uncle, who hugs me protectively.

-Thank you uncle, I will never forget this gift. I thank him with tears in my eyes

-You’re welcome, little traveler, now go and enjoy the evening, or the cards that I had delivered to your rooms. He said with a wink.

I jump out of my chair not without kissing his forehead, I greet my father with a gentle bow before kissing his cheek then, with Ser Erryck at my side, I head to my room where my new cards are waiting for me, my sword and my compass upon me.

Only, as I stay up in the late evening lit by the candles in my room, the look of young Stark haunts my vision and my thoughts. I can't get rid of him, I force myself to forget him but his look dominates my thirst for knowledge. Exhausted, my eyes red from the effort, I go to my bed and collapse from fatigue, and my last vision are his eyes.

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Blooming Love

pairing: Fanon!Aemond Targaryen x Female OC

summary: Elaena Targaryen, daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Laena Valeryion, she was too much like her father much to the horror of her father.

Word count: 3.7K

Warnings: Fluff? Falling in love? Attempted butt grab, incest

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

"Elaena! Come down this instant" Daemon yelled up at the skies, eyes wide with anger that slowly shimmered at the sight of the golden dragon emerging through the clouds.

Elaena huffed angrily as Vēzos landed on the hill. She climbed down with the help of the great beast, yes she was not as big as Caraxes yet but she was big enough to fly with Elaena and one more on her back. Elaena knew the reason for her father's anger, she had scared off yet another suitor in favour of becoming a warrior some day soon.

"What were you thinking?" Daemon hissed at his first born. Elaena rolled her eyes at him. Daemon wrapped a hand around her bicep knowing her tendencies of running away from him when he was angry to avoid a fight. His grip was barely noticeable not wanting to hurt his girl, Daemon was not that kind of parent.

"He was a dick" Elaena justified her actions. Daemon took a deep breath to calm himself. He looked at the castle behind them knowing Rhaenyra was standing somewhere watching them giggling. She had warned him that Elaena was not someone for marriage, long before Elaena bled for the first time.

Elaena did not shy away from the courtyard when Jacaerys and Lucaerys trained and even joined more than once but preferred to train with a soldier since neither one of them was able to keep up with her. She was light on her feet and took advantage of her smaller frame to dodge them before swinger her sword, she one defeated Jace in a matter of thirty seconds, Luce was of course the one keeping an eye on the time.

"Mind your tongue, you forget you are a princess" Daemon scolded. He did not know why Elaena was like this, Baela and Rhaena were nothing like their older sister, always listening to him and never disobeying him.

"He tried grabbing my ass!" Elaena ripped her arm out of his hold not like he fought it. He felt furious at the new information, no father would be calm in a situation like this but he must keep an open mind.

"That is no excuse for Vēzos to burn his horse" Daemon took a deep breath. He was more than relieved to know that Elaena could defend herself but she was a girl, she was of marriageable age yet she still was not betrothed.

"She enjoyed her meal" Elaena turned to look at her golden beauty with a smirk on her lips. Vēzos let out a loud roar when her rider eyed her. She was usually a gentle dragon, have never seen war obviously.

The bond the two shared made Daemon doubt his own bond with Caraxes. Vēzos which meant sun in Valyrian hatched in Elaena's cradle only hours after her birth which led to him and Laena having to keep her on their shoulders whenever they held their daughter until she was able to hold her herself but that was not for long. By the time Elaena was six name days old she had a melt down as they had to move Vēzos out of the palace since she was causing more and more destruction by the hour. For a whole moon Vēzos would spend her night flying by Elaena's window watching her sleep but now the great beast preferred to sleep on the golden sands Dragonstone.

"Elaena" Daemon warned. Elaena turned to look at him with a softer gaze making his heart flutter, he can never be mad for long at his firstborn child, his heir through and through.

"Please stop pushing me father, I am not one for marriage. Leave me to my sword and arrows and marriage for Baela and Rhaena" Elaena begged holding onto his arms. Daemon sighed and pulled Elaena in for a hug rubbing her back affectionately.

"As Issa zaldrīzes wishes" Daemon whispered against her hairline. They both knew that Daemon was merely humouring her and soon enough Rhaenyra and him will send lords her way discreetly before she figures it out and scare the poor boys away. Elaena sighed hearing her nickname 'my dragon' flowing through his lips.

"Avy jorrāelan, kepa" Elaena whispered against the leather of his tunic. Daemon chuckled patting the back of her head. The two pulled away from each other with soft smiled on their faces. Elaena turned to Vēzos giving her a silent command to go back to the beach and rest.

"Avy jorrāelan, tala" Daemon muttered wrapping an arm around Elaena and pulled her towards the castle. Elaena leaned into his side enjoying the rare moment they had together with each other only for company, it was hard with the amount of siblings she had now, her younger twin sister, Baela and Rhaena followed by Jacaerys and Lucaerys other than the children joffery, Aegon and Viserys and the babe Rhaenyra was to birth soon.

"Sometimes it does not feel like it, you and I have not sparred in what feels like years" Elaena admitted. She loved her blood and step-siblings, truly she did, but she was human still and felt jealousy that her father spent time with them more than her sometimes.

"I shall beat you tomorrow" Daemon teased, nudging her shoulder making her giggled. He eyed the darkening sky knowing supper was going to be soon where he and Rhaenyra will announce that the family will be traveling to the Keep for the king's name day.

Elaena grinned widely as she spread her arms ignoring the worried screaming of her father and Rhaenyra. She was chained to Vēzos so she did not see what the fuss was about. Her hips will be sore from the strain of the chains and maybe some bruises but nothing she could not handle. She let out a loud laugh as Vēzos swooped down showing the dragonpit but Elaena was still not ready to dismount her dragon and stirred her to circle around the palace earning the attention of many in the Keep as the golden scales shinned under the sunlight, one of those people was Aemond who was stood alongside his mother and siblings to welcome the family.

Elaena giggled finally letting Vēzos land in the dragonpit. She ignored the looks she was receiving and made her way out of there with a huge smile on her face. She moved to stand behind her father who was smirking seeing his adventure in his daughter however he could only hope she did not have his recklessness.

"Your grace" Elaena curtsied to Alicent who gave the platinum blonde a wearily smile. Aegon barely spared any of them a second glance while his sister/wife had a soft welcoming smile on her face missing her childhood best friend.

"Helaena! How are you? How are the twins?" Elaena was the one to break the awkward silence turning to her best friends. They were closer during their childhood but their letters never ceased for a second.

"They are alright, down for a nap right now" Helaena answered widening her smile. Elaena noticed how tense everyone was and was wondering what she could say or do to end the awkwardness around the family. Her eyes moved over to her other cousins noticing the missing Daeron, she heard that he was sent to Oldtown a while back. Her eyes paused on Aemond's one eye that was watching her curiously. She gave him a small smile knowing to be weary of him and he nodded back with his cold face still present.

The last time she had seen her cousin was when he had lost his eyes to Luce's knife. She felt horrible because he did not deserve such a fate, people said he stole Vaghar but there was no such a thing as stealing a dragon, it is an illusion like king Visery's said, the dragons are not pets to be controlled, they are mighty beasts and they are who choses to ride them not the other way around.

"Was that you earlier cousin? Did not believe that your rogue blood passed down to your daughter, uncle" Aegon smirked at his own words. Helaena elbowed him but he ignored her and resumed looking smugly at his uncle.

"One of his daughters was bound to be as strong as he is, my prince" Elaena snapped at her uncle with a glare on her face. She knew her sisters would not take her words to heart. Usually they are the ones to tell her those exact same words when they would spend their nights together braiding each other's hair and gossip like any group of sisters.

Elaena was blessed with straight her like her father's unlike her sisters who inherited their mother's curls. When Laena passed during from her dragon's fire, Vaghar who Aemond rode now, Elaena could not bare to look at her sisters for at least five moons and whenever they would step into a room she would excuse herself and leave. The twins eventually cornered her and assured her through her melt down when she finally glanced up at the two of them, that brought them even closer to one another much to the delight of their father and Rhaenyra who Elaena grew closer to as the years passed.

Elaena and Rhaenyra's relationship was rocky in the beginning because Elaean refused to accept her marriage to her father. Daemon understood his daughter and worked to regain his daughter's trust. Elaena took to the skies during their wedding and did not return until the moon was high in the sky. Aegon's birth brought the family back together because Elaena was unable to resist loving and adoring him. She usually steals him to play with him and gave him a wooden figure of a dragon that he even at a young age adores and those who touch it be damned, he will scream his lungs out so Rhaenyra now makes the maids take him out when cleaning his nursery so they can clean the figurine.

"The maids shall escort you to your rooms so you can rest before the feast" Alicent spoke tensely eyeing the maids standing to the side. Elaena's eyes moved from the maids noticing that Aemond was still eyeing her with what she could only identify as admiration but that was impossible, he had Vaghar there was no way he admired her small show earlier.

"Thank you, your grace" Rhaenyra nodded at Alicent. Elaena smirked noticing the sarcasm in her step-mother's voice when saying Alicent's title. She curtsied one last time and followed her sisters into the palace.

"What do you think?" Elaena questioned, twirling a little in front of her sisters. She wore a black dress to show off her house colours. The dress off shoulder and had a little plunge showing the top of her breasts. It reached to the floor and when she twirled small golden shimmers showed off the golden threads in the fabric, she had chosen this specific shade of gold since it matched with Vēzos's scales.

"Beautiful as ever, Leana" Rhaena complimented. The sisters gave sad smiles to each other, ever since their mother's death the twins started nicknaming their sister Laena, the only difference between Elaena and her mother's name was one letter that her sisters rended useless when speaking with her.

"Thank you, however I look not even close to your beauty" Elaena touched Baela's curls making the girl giggle. A knock on the door broke their giggles.

"Come in" Rhaena called, it was her room after all. Daemon stepped into the room smiling, his smile widened at the sight of his eldest children being together.

"Guess it is time for us to leave?" Rhaena asked. She stood up from the sofa she was sat on along with Baela. Daemon nodded his and stepped to the side letting the twins pass through before turning to Elaena.

"You look beautiful, Issa zaldrīzes" Daemon complimented. Elaena touched the fabric of her dress with her finger tips with a tiny smile on her face.

"Thank you, kepa" Elaena walked over to her father and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek. Daemon had to lean down for her to be able to reach even on her tip toes but he had learned to never mention this to her after receiving the silent treatment from her for three days and had to calm a beaten Jace after sparring with Elaena.

"Come, we do not want to be late" Daemon held out his arm for her to take. He enjoyed her soft touch inside his elbow. He worried for her the most because he knew that no mater how strong she was she was living in a man's world but he had promised earlier that week to not mention marriage and he intended to keep his promise this time, at least for a while before his dark thoughts took over again.

The pair walked into the hall after being announced. Elaena was surprised when the music stopped and everyone turned their attention to them, she knew she was royalty but sometimes it was hard to believe. She noticed the presence of the entire family, even Rhaenyra, Aegon and Viserys and the only one missing was the king. Daemon led his daughter to her sit directly beside his displaying her as his heir instead of Aegon his firstborn son. Rhaenyra of course felt no hurt or displeasure being her father's heir.

Elaena did not have time to sit before the king was announced. Her heart hurt seeing her uncle walk in with the help of a cane and his guard. Alicent scrambled to help him sit down on his seat in the middle of the table before the music picked up again and everyone got distracted by something else.

Elaena eyed her father who gave her a nod of encouragement, Rhaenyra who was occupying Daemon's other side between him and the king, eyed the two confused. Elaena pushed her chair back slowly and moved in front of the table stopping when she was directly in front of her uncle. This earned the attention of Viserys and Alicent along with their children, Helaena and Aemond while Aegon was already drunk somewhere probably flirting with some poor lady.

"Your majesty" Elaena curtsied to her king uncle. She felt her heart clench when she saw the confusion on his face when he did not recognise her and leaned over to Alicent so she can whisper in his ear "This is Elaena, my love"

"Ah Elaena, you have become more beautiful with time my dear niece" Viserys' voice was weak as he spoke. Elaena pushed back the tears that wet her eyes and plastered a smile trying to act and treat him normally as if he was not sick and dying, she knew it must be exhausting for him being treating like that by everyone around him.

"if you would allow me your grace, I have prepared a gift I wish to give you on this glorious day" Elaena steadied her voice not forgetting that she was a princess now after the reminder earlier when she stepped into the room. She ignored the feeling of someone's gaze burning through her body and fought the shiver when she realised the violet eyed belonged to her cousin.

"Of course my dear girl" Viseryes gave a weak nod. Elaena turned to her hand maiden who stepped over holding a box in her hands. She opened the box herself to show the king a wooden figurine of the iron throne with a man sitting on it, it was he when he was still healthy and handsome. What do you give a man who had everything? Was what Elaena wondered before the idea struck her, she was talented in crafting wood so she decided this was the best gift she can come up with.

"You made this?" Viserys questioned rising up from his chair. Alicent too stood up holding his arm and helping walk around the table and over to Elaena.

"With my own hands" Elaena answered, smiling at her uncle who stopped in front of her. Viserys reached over and touched his own face on the figurine probably remembering the days he looked thins handsome.

"Thank you, niece, you have given me a gift I will cherish until my last breath" Viserys whispered. Elaena grinned satisfied with herself. She was shocked when Viseryes wrapped his free around her and pulled her closer placing a kiss on her forehead. He gave her a sad smile before returning to his seat. Elaena's handmaid handed the box with the figurine to a guard who was instructed to take it to the King's own bedchamber.

Elaena sat back down in her seat with a genuine smile on her face. Daemon reached over and grasped her hand in his over the table giving it a squeeze. She squeezed it back knowing her father cared a lot for his brother like she cared for all of her siblings. Elaena smiled as her sisters left her side to dance with Jace and Luce each with her betrothed. She enjoyed the sound of the music and laughter of the people, she imagined sword fighting as a dance and that is how she ended up being better than her sisters at it with the right motivation.

"May I have this dance, princess?" Elaena snapped out of her train of thought and looked up at the person who spoke. It was Aemond with a hand extended for her take. Elaena did not want to embarrass him or herself so she placed her hand into his noticing the size difference immediately which sparked a new feeling inside of her or maybe it was just his touch.

"You may" She gave him a small smile. Daemon watched with a raised eyebrow as his eldest daughter pushed back her chair and allowed her cousin to lead her to the dance floor. Rhaenyra noticed Daemon tense and held his hand under the table to calm him down, they both knew that Elaena was able to defend herself if Aemond tried anything but like any parent Daemon worried and so did Rhaenyra who viewed the girl as her own.

"It has been a long time, cousin" Aemond was the one to break the silence between the pair as they glided skilfully on the dance floor.

"It has, I wondered how you and your siblings have been fairing as of lately" Elaena kept her voice soft and words polite. Aemond twirled her before bringing her back close to his body. They were chest to chest but they were yet to touch anywhere other than her hand in his and the on his shoulder while his was around her waist.

"I am sure Helaena has kept you up to date" Aemond smirked. His gaze moved to his sisters sitting in between two empty seats one for her elder brother and husband while the other was his own. She was too busy to notice as she played with her daughter in her lap.

"She has, she mentioned your liking of sparring" Elaena pulled back from him and held both of his hands as they twirled in a circle before coming close to one another again however this time Aemond's grip was stronger around her waist.

"Not for tourney like many speak" He smirked down at her. She chuckled shaking her head remembering Helaena mentioning how he insisted he was on that piece of information.

"I know, I was going to suggest a match" It was Elaena's turn to smirk when she saw the shocked look on his face.

"You and I?" He questioned unsure. Elaena did not answer as she twirled letting her dress flare around her before stepping closer to him again. Aemond's eye focused on her dress for a second as the gold showed under the candle light while she sauntered her figure in front of him.

"Who else?" She teased. Aemond and her dancing ceased with the music. They were in the middle of the room with the other couples around them.

"Another dance?" Aemond offered his hand again. Elaena smiled and took his hand again. She curtsied and he bowed before the next song began and the other couples began moving.

"They seem fond of each other?" Alicent whispered to Viserys who was also watching his second son and his niece. They both had smile on their faces as they danced in the middle. Daemon slammed his hand down on the table and stood up when Aemond picked up Elaena and twirled her, it was part of the dance but he hated it, usually only married couples did that while unmarried couple opted to do a twirl together with minimum touching.

"Lykirī" Rhaenyra was fast with her movements pulling him back down to his seat. He was breathing heavily with anger, he wanted to jump over the table and killing his nephew for even looking in his daughter's way.

"You are acting as if you did not want to marry her off only a week ago" Rhaenyra joked trying to lighten the mood and make him take his mind off his anger before he does something that will end with him without a head.

"Not to the likes of him" Daemon hissed glaring at Aemond. Aemond of course did not notice being too enamoured by Elaena. She giggled as he twirled her one more time. Aemond felt lighter on his feet as he reconnected with one of his childhood friends, he could not remember the reason behind him refusing to contact her. During that awful night she was silent siding with no one being torn but he still remembered the feel of her hand on his when she passed by trying to comfort him before her father pulled her out of the room.

"Will I see you tomorrow on the training grounds?" Aemond questioned, when the night have ended and he offered to walk her to her room. Elaena paused by the door of her room and turned to look at him with her back to the door.

"Of course, I will not pass a chance to beat you" Elaena teased. Her teeth were showing through her smile. She felt happy and giddy and for once she could not blame the wine since she had none, not even a sip.

"I will leave you to dream of that victory but let me tell you it will never become a reality" Aemond humoured back. Elaena rolled her eyes playfully at him.

"We will see, Kēpus" Was the last thing she said before slipping into her room and closing the door separating them. She had the biggest smile on her face as she slept that night and excitement in her body unable to wait for the next day.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Head in the clouds (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: My take on Modern reader meets Daemon Targaryen. Here we have the meeting.

Chapter warnings: Canon character death. Kidnapping. Mature language.

A/N: I’m so excited to share this story with you. I had so much fun building it. This series will be updated every sunday.

Next part here

Beneath the covers, there is a girl. Brown haired, dark eyed. A smile that could light up the whole room. Etched into your memory, carved a place inside your heart. Forever living there.

“Does it not bother you?” You had asked her. “Being nothing more than a wife?”

“Am I a wife?” Her laugh was sharp. Strong. She didn't cover her mouth with her hand like other women did. She was so sure of herself, tiny things didn't bother her. There was no time to worry if her teeth were perfect or if it was unladylike to cackle in laughter.

Alive. So alive it hurt.

Two girls. Curled mirroring each other in the bed. Sharing secrets, and giggling. But never touching. It was not allowed, you see.

This was how women loved. Raw, all electrified wires and emotions. Bared. Never taught to fear each other.

A naked, creamy shoulder. A mole, right above her sternum. Heart beating fast.

Shining. In a sunny field, rushing after a stag, spear in hand. Predator, never prey. Vibrant with color. Rich browns and earth tones. The sun hitting the left side of her face just right.

The memory is etched in your eyelids. The girl, laughing. Dancing along to an imaginary song. A field full of golden flowers. Her voice in your thoughts.

Now gone.

Rhea had passed, or so the other serving girls had told you. Runestone was going to her husband. After four years, the man was finally back from war.

The apron you were wearing was clean, and so were you, despite your face being puffy from too much. Rhea had been your only friend. The only other person in the castle that had been able to read.

The Common Tongue had a striking similarity to English. There were few books, and you had struggled to read them at first. You soon realized that the Common Tongue was not a different language, but Middle English. It made sense. People in the Middle Ages didn’t know they were living in the Middle Ages.

You had met Rhea when she realized one of the serving girls was spending her time in the library. It was not forbidden, but unusual. No one had thought to forbid it. The ratio of literacy among the common folk was low, or better yet, nonexistent.

Her dexterous hands. Aim that always rang true. Her hair, cascading down her back, perfect and smooth.

It had lightened your burdens, this friendship with her. Since arriving in the Middle Ages, the feeling of alienation had been too much to handle. And being the Lady’s favorite meant that your time spent at the kitchens was more and more scarce.

Rhea and you had turned into something more than friends, by the end of it. Two lonely, unsatisfied women. One left behind by a husband that had spent years at war. Another out of time.

A pointless war, she had said. She had an interest in politics, your Rhea. They called it a manly pursuit. She called it doing whatever she pleased.

Your lips, tracing her temple, her cheekbones, and a whispered word, muttered back. “Sister.” You couldn’t call it anything but.

Afternoons, spent using each other’s lap as pillows. Every memory since meeting her, tinted in gold. How you regretted never speaking words of love more often, when you found out about her death. An odd one, when she had been such a strong rider and hunter…

A sudden flurry of movement started in the front of the room. Your contemplation was not allowed any longer. The rows of servants in front of you were all bending their knee, prompting you to do the same. Finally, your new lord was here.

The man made others wait for him. You had been gathered in the courtyard for hours, under an unusually bright sun. The air was warm. A golden, beautiful summer day to say goodbye to a beautiful, golden woman.

Your dress clung to your skin, the garment heavy and restricting. Despite being made of soft cotton, you still felt hot and sweaty. You missed shorts and miniskirts. Fucking purity culture.

Fuck the Middle Ages, too. For they had taken Rhea. It had not been cruel enough, to make her suffer scorn and ridicule from her husband, they had to take her too. She would have prospered in a modern world.

Some nights, searching for a solution, you thought of taking her back with you,

The row of servants in front of you lowered. You bent your knee, keeping your eyes lowered. It was about time. Your hips and legs were starting to get sore. Hopefully, you would be overlooked.

Rhea’s husband would surely want to replace some servants in favor of his most trusted people. He was an important man, or so you had gathered. She avoided mentioning him, often unhappy.

A Prince. He should have given her the world. He had arrived too late.

The servants kept quiet, organized in neat little rows. You waited for the command to rise, but none came.

Instead, an angry voice, and the unmistakable sound of boots stomping on rock.

“Bring forth the girl!”

A brave guard stepped forward. You heard his armor cling and clang, and you shivered. You hated the sound of metal scratching against metal. It did something funny to your teeth.

You kept your eyes trained on the floor. You were not supposed to look nobles in the eye, in these times. Rhea had taught you that, and all you knew about manners here.

“Which girl, my Prince?” The guard asked. You didn’t recognize his voice. Rhea kept a scarce household. She hadn’t like the fuzz her husband always brought.

Most of the guards she had were outside the castle, and they didn't mix with the servants. They were bastards or second sons of minor houses, who thought themselves too above you. Rhea didn't care enough about them to worry about it.

“The one she cared about.” The man answered, and you shrank down on yourself. Your uneasiness was turning into fear. Who else could he be referring to, but you?

The servants started muttering among themselves. None dared answer Rhea’s husband. They all knew he was referring to you, but were hesitant on betraying you.

“Well?” He asked, tapping his foot against the floor.

A beat of silence. You kept your eyes down. Finally, the guard spoke. His voice was shaky.

“She is one of the kitchen maids. The ones in white aprons.”

The boots stomped against the rock once more. Rhea’s husband was on the move, prowling between the rows of servants.

A girl shrieked. You dared not lift your eyes, frozen into the spot.

“Milord… I…” That voice, you knew. It was Mina, one of the girls who worked with you in the kitchens. You peeked out of the corner of your eye, catching the silhouette of a man, grasping a girl roughly by the arm. His back was to you, but by the hard set of his shoulders and the sword hanging at his belt, you could tell he meant business.

Tears started gathering in your eyes. You were afraid. Whatever this man wanted with you, it was not good.

“No, I don’t think so.” He let go of her arm, roughly pushing her away. You quickly looked down, but it was too late. The man was already approaching you.

You saw his boots first. Dark and well polished, unlike those of any guard. You keep your eyes on them. Despite your best attempts, you were starting to shake. Were you not so terrified, you would have thought his voice familiar.

“I am certain I have found my prize.” The man lifted your chin with a finger. You looked at him with tear-filled eyes. “Ah. I have. Care to tell me why my wife has left you all she had?”

Your lower lip wobbled. You tried forming words, but none came up. Because the man who was looking at you was a Target version of Matt Smith. Which meant…

“You killed her.” You whispered. Your heart was beating so hard you were afraid he could hear it pounding against your rib cage. You brushed your sweaty palms on the skirt of your dress, trying to dry them.

This was not the Middle Ages, not at all. This was Westeros, a fictional world not meant to exist. And if this was Rhea’s husband, then it meant Rhea, your Rhea, was the wife of Daemon Targaryen. You remembered little about him. But what had struck in your mind about him was that he had killed his wife.

There had been a golden girl, once. And a fool looked at her and thought her bronze.

You should have noticed sooner. You had always found it odd, that Rhea’s priest wore a seven pointed star instead of a cross. She had not been very religious. Other than her, you neverspoke to others about matters deeper than how to cut the potatoes. You had rationalized it as being another symbol of Christianity. After all, they had used a fish as a symbol, once.

Your voice was not low enough for him not to hear, unfortunately. Daemon’s eyes widened. Then, he grabbed at your face, roughly.

“What did you say?”

You glared. The hold he had on you was too painful for you to even whisper a word. You pushed at him, trying to get him off you, but his grip was strong. He laughed, amused.

“My, aren’t you a willful thing?” Daemon pushed you towards a guard. “Seize her and place her in my chambers. We have a lot to talk about.”

The guard, the same one that had said you were a kitchen maid, caught you.

“My Prince, if what you say is true and your wife left Runestone to her….”

Had she? Brilliant, crazy woman. Passing over her husband's claim. You weren't sure you wanted the responsibility of being a Lady, but you weren't about to complain. The position would provide you with comforts unlike any other.

“That's utter madness, and you know it.” Daemon took you from the guard's arms, roughly holding you by the shoulders. You started to struggle immediately. “A serving girl cannot inherit.”

“But a bastard can.” Another guard pitched in, stepping forward. His hand was at his belt, ready to draw a sword. Mutters broke out among the crowd, the servants on the verge of a riot. “The Lady called her sister.”

“Well, then. If you don't act against your Lady…” Daemon took a pair of manacles from the guard's belt and grabbed at your wrists. “I will.”

You screamed and kicked, trying to get back to the safety of the crowd. If the guards thought you were their Lady, you were not going to complain. Not if it meant this psychopath let go of you. You still remember one of the last scenes of the season. The decapitation of the guy who called Rhaenyra a whore.

“Let go of me, you asshole!” You pushed at Daemon, and he cursed in a language you didn’t understand. Valyrian. Old, or High, or whatever the name of what Targaryens spoke. He cuffed one of your wrists, then the other. You screamed louder.

The guards moved, as if to step in. They had taken your resistance as an order. Those men had been ready once, to defend Rhea. Willing to kill for their Lady. Now, they were willing to kill for you.

Daemon could sense it too. The air was charged, a fight about to break out. One he wouldn’t win. Not against that many guards. Not against the servants, who looked ready to raise in arms for one of their own. He had to do something drastic.

He took his sword out and pulled you towards him by the cuffs. Your back hit his chest, hard enough for it to hurt. Your wrists, trapped between you and him, ached. But Daemon seemed to pay no mind to the pain. He raised the sword in front of you, keeping the guards away.

The guards exchanged looks. One gestured at the others. Daemon placed the tip of the sword at your neck. You blinked back tears.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t do that. One wrong move, and your Lady dies.” His voice was calm, too calm. You remembered the battle at the Stepstones, and whimpered.

The guards stepped forward anyway. Daemon dug the blade deeper into your throat, until you felt it pierce skin. You raised your hand, palm extended in front of you. The universal halt gesture.

“Good girl.” Daemon pulled the blade slightly back. Then, in a raised voice. “Caraxes!”

A deafening roar shook the courtyard. A big shadow made the servants cower in fear, and duck for cover. You looked up and right in front of your eyes, there was a dragon.

It was a gigantic, red beast, that looked much like a reptile. It felt surreal to watch, as the man holding you hostage ordered it to land and stand guard. You didn't oppose resistance when he started to tug you towards the inside of Runestone.

“Come, Lady Cuffs.”

No one moved to help you. Daemon Tragaryen had played his trump card. He might not own Runestone, he might not be the King. But he had a dragon.

“You and I have much to speak about.” He said, as he locked the door to Rhea’s chambers behind him. Daemon pushed you to the bed, making you bounce on the mattress.

“I have nothing to say to you!” You screamed, as you scrambled back. Your back hit the pillows. They still smelt like Rhea. It made you want to cry. You wished you could roll around in her scent, disappear beneath her covers.

“I happen to disagree.” Daemon sat down at the edge of the bed. You tried to kick at him, but his hand caught your foot before it could make contact. His grip on you was punishing. It felt as if he wanted to crush the delicate bones there.

“I have nothing to say to a killer.”

“I would like to know how you found out, Lady Cuffs.” A bit more pressure on your ankle, enough to be sure that they would bruise. It doesn’t have the intended effect. You are too blinded by his admission to be able to worry about your pain. You are angrier now. Did he have the nerve to admit it to your face?

You want him to hurt. To feel the same fear that's suffocating you, that forms a knot in your throat and doesn't let you breathe. The same fear Rhea must have felt, helpless, as he killed her. Monster. Monster. God awful monster.

“You killed her. You killed her, but know what? It doesn't matter because you are going to die!” And you are not thinking, of course. You just want to see him suffer. The consequences of what you are saying don’t cross your mind, at all.

“Oh?” Daemon looks amused. To him, your threats are empty. He is so privileged and self-assured, he probably thinks it’s like a giant getting threatened by an ant. It annoys you more because you are being serious.

Even if she was a supporting character in a fictional world, to you, Rhea had been a friend. More. And it had felt real, what you had lived with her so far. Were it not for Daemon’s arrival, you would have still thought you were in the Middle Ages and not Westeros. This has been your life for the past two years. She had been yours. And he had taken it all away.

“I googled it! I remember. Your nephew, the one with the eye patch. You die fighting him. And I hope it hurts, plummeting to your death from…”

It fills you with satisfaction, speaking those words. But he is not taking you seriously. You want, no, need, to twist the knife deeper.

“My nephew?” Daemon echoes, mouth agape at your outburst. Still, the smirk doesn’t leave. He seems amused by what he believes to be the ramblings of a madwoman.

“Aegon, Aemond what’s his name! You are going to die, and it’s all pointless, but you will rot in that lake.”

“Oh?” Daemon arches an eyebrow, on the verge of laughing. You glare.

“And you will marry that little girl! The one who is the daughter of Corlys… Something! And she dies too, and it will be her dragon that kills you!”

It's that, what makes his face change. From amusement, to disbelief. Daemon steps forward, hand cupping your cheek. His thumb taps at your bottom lip, twice.

“So you are a dreamer. A pretty one, for a Royce.” His thumb caresses your mouth as if you are nothing more than cattle, ready for his inspection. When he tries prying open your mouth, you bite him. And not in a sexy, playful way. In a hurtful way. Daemon takes his thumb away, and winces, before continuing. “I had told no one of my intentions with Lady Laena.”

Your heart sinks. A dreamer. A fancy way of saying witch, you guessed. Or seer. His expression is greedy, enough so you know what he will say next.

“This will please my brother, for we can keep the Vale and gain a dreamer. You will no longer be a bastard, girl. Rejoice.”

“What?” The change of topic confuses you. You are not a bastard because such a thing didn’t exist in your time. Rhea apparently put you in her will, and that means something to these people. But will or not, Westeros is a feudal society. Big thing about feudalism? There are no rags-to-riches stories because there is no social class mobility.

“You will be my wife, of course. It’s as your sister wished.” At that, you kick at him with your other foot, hard. The nerve. The nerve to threaten you so. After he killed Rhea. No way you are marrying him.

You curse all those times you read those spicy romance novels. The ones with the mafia boyfriends, like 365 DNI or those Wattpad stories you used to read. Or the ones where the girl is sold into an arranged marriage. As the protagonist of one, you are starting to feel like it's not very fun.

Absurd, where the mind might go to protect herself. From the memories, and the pain. Rhea. Dead, by his hand. While your mind whirls and jokes around.

“You are insane and I hate you!” It's not very creative. But your entire world has shifted in a matter of hours. You deserve a freak-out. “I will never be your wife, you monster!” You kick at him some more, but he catches both of your ankles and drags you through the bed and towards him.

“Oh, Lady Cuffs. You flatter me.”

[coldgoldlazarus]

Metroid Movie/TV Series Style Options, from most to least likely, because I have brainrot

- Live action with a more 'realistic' sci-fi aesthetic, probably leaning into the Alien influence. Could be really good, especially as a way to honor that inspiration, but could easily fall flat. Most likely to actually happen, but my least favored. If this is the route taken, I just hope it wouldn't go the way of the Halo Paramount show.

- CGI Animated with style and rendering pretty similar to the games, particularly Prime and Dread. The most simple and sensible option and so also very likely, but also a tad boring just because the games are already doing that.

- Live-action tokusatsu show. Not trying for 'realism' so much as coolness, and just really embracing Samus as a Kamen Rider. Maybe not my preferred option, but I would still love to see it just for the uniqueness of the vibes.

- The sort of in-between compromise between 'realism' and tokusatsu approaches to live-action (plus some very obvious CGI) that characterized the Prime and Fusion commercials. Not very likely at all, and would probably not land as well as just leaning fully into one direction or the other, but it would be a fun and unique approach to see, especially if it has the same sort of blend of genuine moody atmosphere and cheesy tryhard edginess as those commercials.

- 2D Animation, Genndy Tartakovsky directing. Would be super cool and stylized, and probably absolutely nail the atmosphere and indirect narrative style best, but I think outside of that one Clone Wars series, the man prefers to work on his own original projects.

- 2D Animation; just a straight-up Metroid Anime. Not impossible, but tbh probably even less likely just because while it's niche over here, my understanding is that Metroid is ironically not really successful at all in Japan itself. Nintendo has called on western developers for basically every game since Fusion for a reason, and so while they could probably call up Studio Trigger or someone to make it happen, I don't think there's too much inclination to take that route. (Especially if Zelda, the way more anime-plausible series, is being given to Hollywood as is.) But it would be pretty cool.

- That specific fucking excellent blended style that characterized the late 90s and early 00s in animated movies. A mix of like, CGI and Rotoscoping and 2D Animation, Mike Mignola influenced character designs, the works. Atlantis: The Lost Empire, Spirit, The Iron Giant, Titan AE, Lilo & Stitch, Treasure Planet, Sinbad, Road To El Dorado, Tarzan, Emperor's New Groove, Brother Bear, ect. A throwback to the Animation Golden Age IMO, basically. (In particular, Atlantis, Treasure Planet, and Lilo & Stitch having the most direct visual comparison/inspiration.) This would be an utterly perfect style for Bionicle, but work slightly less well for Metroid, admittedly, just given the vibe favors grandiosity more than eeriness, and I also don't expect it to happen at all in the first place. But I want it SO MUCH.

[lightwing-s]

the batboys' favorite male marvel heroes

Our golden boy, Dick, is a massive Spiderman fan. He’s not embarrassed in the least to admit it, and he’s also not worried people will think of him as just liking something popular. He has pretty good reasons to like Peter Parker and he’ll defend it to hell and back. He’s young, fun, and lighthearted. Heroic and smart and handsome and sweet and Dick can go on for hours and hours on that topic. At a young age, he sympathized with Peter for a number of reasons: they were both orphans, taken in by someone after this loss; even after all that pain they still grew up to be happy and joyful people to be around; both are very smart. As he grew into his super hero persona, they started sharing a whole lot more, like their flexible fighting style, the way they both deal with villains. And you’d often tell him they share the same bubbly personality. Also, Bruce used to spoil him rotten with spidey gifts. Comics, action figures, school supplies, spiderman shampoo and conditioner, towels… You name it, Dick has had it at home. Truly a spidey fanboy through and through. He also has a costume at home waiting for the day he can go on patrol wearing it.

Let's be honest here, we all know Jason would live for the anti-hero trope. Growing up, he’d always been drawn to more heroic types of antiheroes, like Wolverine for example, who’s hell bent on fulfilling his duty but does not live by the hero standards as some others do.  But after a certain incident with a crowbar and a clown, he saw refuge in the spirit of vengeance himself, the Ghost Rider. C'mon, a motorcycling maniac, whose body is completely covered in fire and who fights for justice no matter what? *side eyes a certain somebody* there's no way it isn't up to his alley. He’s in the comic store right after patrol, in the early mornings, to buy whatever issue was released next and reads it like it’s a Jane Austen novel. He also buys older issues, and keeps them wrapped and well stored like his precious babies and he ain’t letting anyone touch them. Perhaps with one dear exception, you.  Jay is into the classics though, if he had to pick between one out of all the riders he would have to choose the very first rider, Johnny Blaze. When riding his own bike, he’d pretend to be a rider, spitting lines he remembers from the comics and using them on random robbers he stops on the streets. Don’t talk to him about the movie though, that’s off topic.

Tim Drake is not one to pick “silly” heroes like his older brothers do. Or he at least pretends to do. He’s into the smart supes, with admirable brains and capacities well beyond imaginable. But he’s also a bit of a contrarian, so he won’t go for easy picks like Dick Iron Man. So when he sees a powerful AI turn into a nearly unstoppable android he instantly becomes a fan. Even before living with Bruce and becoming Robin, he would ask his parents to get him the new Avengers issue with Vision in it. However, unlike his brothers he’s very chill about it, he doesn’t feel like he needs to explain why his favorite is the best, or why they're a token of justice or a mad warrior. He knows Vision is good and that no one can fight him about it. He also wishes he could stay awake without the need for rest like he does, but he’d definitely miss the coffee.

Don’t really let anyone know it, but Damian’s favorite hero is his dad. But Batman is a real, flesh and bone man, so it won’t count here. He struggled to have a favorite hero, reading comics is “for children” and he’s too mature for that. He’s an adult. But when he caught a glimpse of Dick sleeping watching the new Moon Knight tv show, this boy got hooked. Not only is he a cool,  merciless fighter, he is also intelligent and has a cultural impact on him like no other. Marc’s internal conflict with all of his personalities feels like a reflection of Damian’s own troubles with his families’ contrasting ideals: is he supposed to be a deadly weapon just like his grandfather would want, much like Jake Lockely, or is he a nicer warrior-esque hero like Marc and his father? Anyway, that cape, Dami loves the hooded cape *see that, bats? much cooler!*

[bae04xx]

this is so random but i’ve been rewatching harry potter so here you go x

platonic golden trio x pegasus rider reader head canons

• y/n grew up around pegasuses, having her own stables on the farm she lived on

•she was partially famous by the time she was 6, after completing in the young adults races, show jumping and dressage - and placing first in all 3 categories

•her talent was ridiculous, by age 8 she named the rider of the century, competing against anyone and anybody who dared to test her

•she was watched by the public eye, all anticipating when she’d been sent to a witching school, while her coming from an incredibly old pure blood line also made her quite well known, her riding skills made her and her family’s reputation boom

•when she first got her hogwarts letter she ecstatic, her mum had put her in magical tutoring since 5 so she would be far above anyone else, yet y/n wasn’t trusted with a wand while being so young, so she was taught spells with a flick of her wrist and by using the power of her words

•while her mum was happy for her, she was worried about her riding career, considering the boarding situation at hogwarts and how they lacked in a stables like theirs, or even a stables. but after sending a few owls to dumbledore he arranged something with hagrid

•while it wasn’t as posh as y/n was used to, hogwart’s stables had 3 new pegasus and 1 from her home. 1 of the new ones was fully bombproof while the other 2 needed breaking in, hagrid was now her new instructor- not that she needed 1

•while at her daily lessons, she ran into harry potter, ron weasley and hermione granger. a small, friendly group of gryffindor misfits

•while the group of 4 all looked up to hagrid, y/n was especially close with him, staying at his hut for hours on end, going on hacks, constant riding with him, he was like a father figure to her

•harry was her bestfriend, they instantly clicked, they both new what it was like to be misunderstood and idolised by others, while harry’s fame was more on the misfortunate side, they could still relate to the down falls of being in the public eye. y/n was harry’s rock, his go to girl, a shoulder to cry on, someone he could depend on, and he loved every second he spent with her

•hermione was someone y/n idolised, being her study buddy was a privilege y/n held so close to her heart, happy to show it off to anyone. they bonded over the fact that they both appreciated hard work, dedication and resilience. while one applied that to their studies and the other applied that to their career- they both understood each other

•ron was someone who was just a joy to be around, and y/n was so happy to be in his presence after a long day- just being around him was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. his easy going attitude was nothing like the hard-core, crushing work she had to deal with everyday. his jokes and chilled attitude calmed her, and ron enjoyed watching her shoulders soften around him

[justforbooks]

The actor Lou Gossett Jr, who has died aged 87, is best known for his performance in An Officer and A Gentleman (1982) as Gunnery Sergeant Emil Foley, whose tough training transforms recruit Richard Gere into the man of the film’s title. He was the first black winner of an Academy Award for best supporting actor, and only the third black actor (after Hattie McDaniel and Sidney Poitier) to take home any Oscar.

The director, Taylor Hackford, said he cast Gossett in a role written for a white actor, following a familiar Hollywood trope played by John Wayne, Burt Lancaster, Victor McLaglen or R Lee Ermey, because while researching he realised the tension of “black enlisted men having make-or-break control over whether white college graduates would become officers”. Gossett had already won an Emmy award playing a different sort of mentor, the slave Fiddler who teaches Kunta Kinte the ropes in Roots (1977), but he was still a relatively unknown 46-year-old when he got his breakthrough role, despite a long history of success on stage and in music as well as on screen.

Born in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, Louis was the son of Helen (nee Wray), a nurse, and Louis Sr, a porter. As a child he suffered from polio, but became a high school athlete before a basketball injury led to his joining the drama club. His teacher encouraged him to audition professionally, and at 17 he was on Broadway playing a troubled child in Take a Giant Step, which won him a Donaldson award for best newcomer.

He won a drama scholarship to New York University, but continued working, in The Desk Set (1955), and made his television debut in two episodes of the NBC anthology show The Big Story. In 1959 he was cast with Poitier and Ruby Dee in Raisin in the Sun, and made his film debut reprising his role in 1961. On Broadway that year he played in Jean Genet’s The Blacks, in an all-star cast with James Earl Jones, Cicely Tyson, Roscoe Lee Brown, Godfrey Cambridge and a young Maya Angelou; it was the decade’s longest-running show.

Gossett was also active in the Greenwich Village folk music scene. He released his first single Hooka Dooka, Green Green in 1964, followed by See See Rider, and co-wrote the anti-war hit Handsome Johnny with Richie Havens. In 1967 he released another single, a drums and horns version of Pete Seeger’s anti-war hymn Where Have All the Flowers Gone. He was in the gospel musical Tambourines to Glory (1963) and in producer Mike Todd’s America, Be Seated at the 1964 New York World’s Fair.

His plays became more limited: The Zulu and the Zayda and My Sweet Charlie; the very short run of Carry Me Back to Morningside Heights, in which he played a black man owning a white slave; and a revival of Golden Boy (1964), with Sammy Davis Jr. His final Broadway part was as the murdered Congolese leader Patrice Lamumba, in Conor Cruise O’Brien’s Murderous Angels (1971). Gossett had played roles in New York-set TV series such as The Naked City, but he began to make a mark in Hollywood, despite LAPD officers having handcuffed him to a tree, on “suspicion”, in 1966.

On TV he starred in The Young Rebels (1970-71) set in the American revolution. In film, he was good as a desperate tenant in Hal Ashby’s Landlord (1970) and brilliant with James Garner in Skin Game (1971), taking part in a con trick in which Garner sells him repeatedly into slavery then helps him to escape.

In 1977, alongside Roots, he attracted attention as a memorable villain in Peter Yates’s hit The Deep, and got artistic revenge on the LAPD in Robert Aldrich’s The Choirboys. The TV movie of The Lazarus Syndrome (1979) became a series in which Gossett played a realistic hospital chief of staff set against an idealistic younger doctor. He played the black baseball star Satchel Paige in the TV movie Don’t Look Back (1981); years later he had a small part as another Negro League star, Cool Papa Bell, in The Perfect Game (2009).

After his Oscar, he played another assassinated African leader, in the TV mini-series Sadat, reportedly approved for the role by Anwar Sadat’s widow Jihan. Though he remained a busy working actor, good starring roles in major productions eluded him, as producers fell back on his drill sergeant image. He was Colonel “Chappy” Sinclair in Iron Eagle (1986) and its three dismal sequels.

But in 1989 he starred in Dick Wolf’s TV series Gideon Oliver, as an anthropology professor solving crimes in New York. And he won a best supporting actor Golden Globe for his role in the TV movie The Josephine Baker Story (1991). He revisited the stage in the film adaptation of Sam Shepard’s Curse of the Starving Class (1994).

Gossett twice received the NAACP’s Image Award, and another Emmy for producing a children’s special, In His Father’s Shoes (1997). In 2006 he founded the Eracism Foundation, providing programmes to foster “cultural diversity, historical enrichment and anti-violence initiatives”. Despite an illness eventually linked to toxic mould in his Santa Monica home, he kept working with a recurring part in Stargate SG-1 (2005-06). A diagnosis of prostate cancer in 2010 hardly slowed him down.

Most recently, he played Will “Hooded Justice” Reeves in the TV series Watchmen (2019), in the series Kingdom Business, about the gospel music industry, and in the 2023 musical remake of The Color Purple.

His first marriage, to Hattie Glascoe, in 1967, was annulled after five months; his second, to Christina Mangosing, lasted for two years from 1973; and his third, to Cyndi (Cynthia) James, from 1987 to 1992. He is survived by two sons, Satie, from his second marriage, and Sharron, from his third.

🔔 Louis Cameron Gossett Jr, actor, born 27 May 1936; died 28 March 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[comicavalcade]

SUBMARINER SUMMER SPECIAL: 85 years of Namor, 85 years of Marvel

Hello #NamorNation! Today is the 85th anniversary of Marvel Comics #1, the very first Marvel comic! Of course, this also means it is the 85th anniversary of the very first official appearance of Namor, the Sub-Mariner! So today, because no one demanded it, I rant in a special Submariner Summer 85th Anniversary Special!

(Marvel Comics #1, 1939) Namor was first slated to appear in a special promo giveaway for movie theaters named Motion Picture Funnies Weekly. The giveaway apparently never happened and the comic was unreleased. Bill Everett, the creator/writer/artist, then sold the material to a new comics publisher named Timely for their first flagship title, Marvel Comics, using the material from Motion Picture Funnies Weekly plus some additional pages which introduced his childhood friend and later love interest and eventual first wife, Lady Dorma.

Marvel Comics #1 had several stories in addition to the Sub-Mariner, including of course the original Human Torch, who featured on the cover and was an artificial man, The Angel (no relation), The Masked Rider, and interestingly, Ka-Zar, one of the few Marvel characters to get a DC-style Silver Age reboot, and who is still around in the Marvel Universe today, usually in the Savage Land.

Namor, though, was unique in several ways. For one, his people had a grudge against the surface, and specifically the U.S., because they had suffered a mass catastrophe at the hands of its explorers. So Namor was not just willing to kill, he was urged to by his grandfather, Emperor Tha-Korr, and his mother, the Princess Fen. Still, Namor would continually stop to save people along the way, and in Marvel Comics #3 had his first taste of the upcoming war when he disabled his first Nazi submarine and handed it to the Allies. This complexity of story lends him the status of superhero comics' fist antihero.

But that's not his only first. Superman had already debuted by now, of course, and was a roaring success. But as the famous refrain says, he was super-fast (Faster Than a Speeding Bullet!), super-strong (More Powerful Than a Locomotive!), aaaaaaand...could super-jump (Able to Leap Tall Buildings in a Single Bound!). It would be years before his status as a flying hero was cemented. Namor, on the other hand, is described right away as "An Ultra-man of the Deep...lives on land and in the sea...FLIES IN THE AIR"! (emphasis mine) That's right, true believers, NAMOR IS THE FIRST FLYING SUPERHERO! As he demonstrates in Marvel Comics #1, flying to catch up to a seaplane with his trusty winged feet.

And last but not least...he was in fact the first underwater prince in comics. He may not always be the most well-known today, but he was in fact the first undersea royal to grace the funny books with his super feats. Nothing against any aquabros, of course.

Namor would go on to great popularity in the Golden Age of Comics, getting his own comic (Sub-Mariner Comics) as well as continuing to appear in Marvel (Mystery) Comics, and later in All Winners Comics. He is a character with eight and a half decades of history, in thousands of comics, hundreds if not thousands of stories. He's had his own solo titles not just in the Golden Age, but after being revived as a character in the Silver Age, would again have his own solo, which continued into the Bronze Age, get another in the Iron Age, and whatever Age we're in now if that's even a thing anymore, to say nothing of a veritable horde of mini-series. But that's not all! He's also a core character in team books the Invaders/All-Winners and the Defenders, and had notable runs with the Avengers and X-men. The first flying superhero, the first comic book antihero, the first sea king. There's just a huge amount of material with the character and immense historical significance.

[Covers of #1 issues from his series in 1941 (the character had already been around 2 years at that time), 1968, 1990, and 2012]

[Founding member of the Invaders/All-Winners and Defenders, member in notable runs of the Avengers and X-men] Now, you MAY ask...why the X-men? OH, well...funny story. He actually has one more notable first: First Mutant (as that last solo book up there clearly states on the cover). But how could that be? Easy! Fantastic Four Annual #1, in which Namor leads an invasion of Manhattan, was published in July of 1963. In it, Namor receives this description:

The first known MUTANT (emphasis theirs!) of our time! For reference, X-men #1 was released that same month; in tried and true Marvel fashion, an existing character in their most popular comic at the time (Fantastic Four) was used to pave the way for the new kids on the block, the X-men! And so, Namor was in fact the first mutant character published by Marvel. And just so there's no misunderstanding, he goes ahead and appears not long after in the pages of X-men itself, namely issue #6:

So his roots with the X-men actually go back farther than many might think. Frankly, I could go on and on with the many key stories and moments and actions Namor has performed and participated in over the decades. He has other firsts, other moments of historical significance. But I will wrap up by saying this: the Test of Time is a longstanding idiom for a reason. Not many things are able to maintain the necessary longevity to withstand it. There certainly aren't very many 85 year old comic book characters around. And while Namor is not as popular today as he once was, his presence is still undeniable; a version of him appeared in the MCU in Black Panther: Wakanda Forever in 2022, and there's a Namor miniseries being published right now. His appearances are still significant, in destruction and salvation, an antihero, the antihero, who stood before the rest, and flew before any other.

Godspeed, Sub-Mariner. Here's to 85 more. 🎉🎊🥳

[readyforevolution]

WHEN BLACK-MEN RULED THE WORLD

Some Things You Did Not Know About the Moors of Spain

1. The Spanish occupation by the Moors began in 711 AD when an African army, under their leader Tariq ibn-Ziyad, crossed the Strait of Gibraltar from northern Africa and invaded the Iberian peninsula ‘Andalus’.

2. A European scholar sympathetic to the Spaniards remembered the conquest in this way:

a. The reins of the Moors horses were as fire, their faces black as pitch, their eyes shone like burning candles, their horses were swift as leopards and the riders fiercer than a wolf in a sheepfold at night . . . The noble Goths [the German rulers of Spain to whom Roderick belonged] were broken in an hour, quicker than tongue can tell. Oh luckless Spain!

Quoted in Edward Scobie, The Moors and Portugal’s Global Expansion, in Golden Age of the Moor, ed Ivan Van Sertima, US, Transaction Publishers, 1992, p.336

3. The Moors, who ruled Spain for 800 years, introduced new scientific techniques to Europe, such as an astrolabe, a device for measuring the position of the stars and planets. Scientific progress in Astronomy, Chemistry, Physics, Mathematics, Geography and Philosophy flourished in Moorish Spain.

4. Basil Davidson, one of the most noted historians recognized and declared that there were no lands at that time (the eighth century) “more admired by its neighbours, or more comfortable to live in, than a rich African civilization which took shape in Spain”

5. At its height, Córdova, the heart of Moorish territory in Spain, was the most modern city in Europe and the world. The streets were well-paved, with raised sidewalks for pedestrians. During the night, ten miles of streets were well illuminated by lamps. This was hundreds of years before there was a paved street in Paris or a street lamp in London. Cordova had 900 public baths – we are told that a poor Moor would go without bread rather than soap while the then

Queen of England never had a bath!

6. The Great Mosque of Córdoba (La Mezquita) is still one of the architectural wonders of the world in spite of later Spanish disfigurements. Its low scarlet and gold roof, supported by 1,000 columns of marble, jasper and and porphyry, was lit by thousands of brass and silver lamps which burned perfumed oil.

7. Education was universal in Moorish Spain, available to all, while in Christian Europe more than ninety-nine percent of the population were illiterate, and even kings could neither read nor write. At that time, Europe had only two universities copied from Spain, the Moors had seventeen great Universities! These were located in Almeria, Cordova, Granada, Juen, Malaga, Seville, and Toledo in which the majority of the lecturers were women.

8. In the tenth and eleventh centuries, public libraries in Europe were non-existent, while Moorish Spain could boast of more than seventy, of which the one in Cordova housed six hundred thousand manuscripts.

9. Over 4,000 Arabic words and Arabic-derived phrases have been absorbed into the Spanish language. Words beginning with “al,” for example, are derived from Arabic. Arabic words such as algebra, alcohol, chemistry, nadir, alkaline, and cipher entered the language. Even words such as checkmate, influenza, typhoon, orange, and cable can be traced back to Arabic origins.

10. The most significant Moorish musician was known as Ziryab, the Blackbird who arrived in Spain in 822. The Moors introduced earliest versions of several instruments, including the Lute or el oud, the guitar or kithara and the Lyre. Ziryab changed the style of eating by breaking meals into separate courses beginning with soup and ending with desserts.

11. The Moors introduced paper to Europe and Arabic numerals, which replaced the clumsy Roman system.

12. The Moors introduced many new crops including the orange, lemon, peach, apricot, fig, sugar cane, dates, ginger and pomegranate as well as saffron, sugar cane, cotton, silk and rice which remain some of Spain’s main products today.

13. The Moorish rulers lived in sumptuous palaces, while the monarchs of Germany, France, and England dwelt in big barns, with no windows and no chimneys, and with only a hole in the roof for the exit of smoke. One such Moorish palace ‘Alhambra’ (literally “the red one”) in Granada is one of Spain’s architectural masterpieces. Alhambra was the seat of Muslim rulers from the 13th century to the end of the 15th century. The Alhambra is a UNESCO World Heritage Site

14. It was through Africa that the new knowledge of China, India, and Arabia reached Europe. The Moors brought the Compass from China into Europe.

15. The Moors ruled and occupied Lisbon in Portugal (named “Lashbuna” by the Moors) and the rest of the country until well into the twelfth century. They were finally defeated and driven out by the forces of King Alfonso Henriques. The scene of this battle was the ‘Castle of St. George.’

Beginning in the 12th century and continuing for hundreds of years, the Inquisition was infamous for the severity of its tortures and its persecution of Jews and Muslims. Its worst manifestation was in Spain, where the Spanish Inquisition was a dominant force for more than 200 years, resulting in some 32,000 executions.

[tgrailwar-zero]

hey izou, this is a longshot, the longest shot of all longshots but, your summoning seems more stable so...do you have any weird dreams? dreams about fighting a caster and his shades in a church? or brawling with a rider who had no confidence? scolding a master for even thinking about alliances with rider in the middle of a war? fighting saber in the street at night? losing at gambling, coming home late, and nursing a horrible hangover? almost choking on bubble tea? killing a golden berserker in his own home? being trapped by a witch in a school with that rider we formed an alliance with? talking on the roof of a bar at night under the full moon?

He was quiet for a moment-- much longer than you'd expect for a yes or no question. Slightly, almost imperceptibly, his eyes narrowed- before he responded with a casual huff.

IZOU: "Servants can't dream. Anyways, we should get going."

DURYODHANA: "I see, well, that's a shame. I suppose the next time we meet, we'll be rivals. If you can impress the Boss, that is. Otherwise, have fun in the minor leagues."

KOMA: "...Koma should get going as well. Master Rikyu will be upset if I lose any more money at this gambling parlor. May we meet again."

With that, you, IZOU, and MUSASHI stepped outside, with NERO taking the Room Key to head back upstairs on her own. The cool, salty sea breeze chilled the air. Night had fallen quicker than you expected, though it wasn't too deep in the night to worry about shops closing- if they ever did close.

IZOU: "I'll get you signed up first. Then we'll take a walk around. We might be able to catch the person I'm lookin' for before she leaves for the night. Boss is hard to impress, but she's got a real eye for battle talent."

He walked you to what seemed like a large, arena-like building, leading you inside. It was quiet, astoundingly so as he looked around. He seemed frustrated, as you gathered the feeling that whoever he was looking to talk to wasn't here anymore before he suddenly exclaimed.

IZOU: "Ah-- caught her!"

He pointed at a woman leaving out one of the doors, jogging over.

IZOU: "Yo, Boss. Found some new blood!"

Turning to look at the 'Boss' in question--

That was JAGUAR MAN.

Sure, the aesthetic was different, but… that was her. You watched as she furrowed her brow, looking between you, MUSASHI, and IZOU.

MUSASHI: "Oh, hey! Long time, no see!"

JAGUAR MAN: "Tch. Well, ain't we friendly, Miss Fancy Pants?"

MUSASHI: "Uh, what?"

JAGUAR MAN: "It's late, Man-Kisser. This little kitty was on her way back home, not trying to fill out paperwork."

IZOU: "Man-Slayer, and I know, I know, but--"

JAGUAR MAN: "--Kissin' men, slayin' men, who cares? In this day and age they mean the same thing. You couldn't do this tomorrow morning like anyone else who felt like cutting it close? We already had one more late arrival, I don't wanna make this a habit."

IZOU: "C'mon, I'll owe ya' one. Promise. Just give 'em a look-over. I wouldn't just bring ya' some punk off the street."

There was a long moment of silence as JAGUAR MAN slowly paced around you three, looking up and down.

JAGUAR MAN: "Hm… well, just from looks alone, they seem like 'A+' competitors…"

She paused, before suddenly yelling--

JAGUAR MAN: "Meaning AMATEUR PLUS!"

JAGUAR MAN: "…"

JAGUAR MAN: "As in SLIGHTLY BETTER THAN AMATEURS!"

JAGUAR MAN: "..."

JAGUAR MAN: "As in--"

MUSASHI: "YEAH. WE GOT IT."

IZOU: "C'mon, Boss! Saber's good, I promise. She can handle the big leagues."

She tapped her naginata on the ground, pursing her lips as if she was in deep, intensive thought, red eyes boring into you and your Servant. She sighed, clicking her tongue.

JAGUAR MAN: "So, normally I'd toss you in the minor bracket, where you can just mess around with the would-be's and has-been's for a smaller pot… But, we've got an open spot in the major bracket. One of the fighters called in sick last-minute, caught a virus. But I'm not just giving it out to just anyone, I need the competitor to be someone that can fill seats. Someone with a story that'll capture the hearts and minds of viewers! We need ticket sales and thrilling fights, got it?"

She locked eyes with you.

JAGUAR MAN: "You're Miss Dual-Wielder's manager, right? Give me a backstory that'll sell seats, and I'll consider giving you this open spot in the main bracket with the big-leaguers. As long as you can afford the 400 PPT entrance fee."

MUSASHI: "I don't totally get what's going on, but... just tell her something she likes so we can get to the fighting part?"