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lady-pug · 2 days ago

Text

Written Between the Lines

Interlude - Meddling With Our Hearts

Summary: Five times someone interferes with yours and Aemond’s relationship and one time you decide to take the reins and shape your own fate.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 6,9k

Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece)

Notes: Hello!! How have you all been? This one came out faster than I expected! Yay!

Okay, just to explain a few things, so this chapter is a bonus, non-chronological chapter in the story. It is separated into items, as it follows the ‘5+1 Things’ model, spanning across several years. In item 1, Reader and Aemond are very young, around 4 and 6 respectively (and Aegon is around 10), whereas items 2, 3, 4 and 5 are set after chapter 1 of this story (think episodes 6 and 7 of season 1). Lastly, the last item is set in the middle of chapter 2.

I am having lots of fun writing for Aemond, so much so I have a few ideas for unrelated one-shots I plan on writing for him. Anyway, I really really hope you enjoy this!

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1. Aegon Targaryen

As young children, wherever Aemond Targaryen was you were never too far behind. As the eldest of Rhaenyra Targaryen’s children, you were often regarded as a possible successor of your mother’s to the title of the Realm’s Delight, being soft and sweet and so very beautiful even from such a young age. There was no shortage of people wanting to gaze upon you, spoil you with attention and possibly win over the favor of the heir to the Iron Throne after King Viserys I. But there was only ever one person whose attention you truly craved.

With the birth of your younger brother Jace and your mother’s pregnancy with yet another child, your parents’ attention was naturally split. It wasn’t to say they neglected you or favored your brother above you, oh no, but it was only natural that you were no longer their sole focus, even more fickle given their duties at court. Your father in particular, Ser Laenor, tried to give you as much attention as he possibly could, but even then that was restricted to specific times of the day, mostly at supper and after. It was an adjustment, for sure, and for a little while you resented your little brother, but you were quick to find another source of the attention you craved somewhere else: your uncle Aemond. You couldn’t possibly know why, nor had you ever thought about it, but you were drawn to him in ways you could not explain. And the feeling seemed to be mutual.

Aemond Targaryen, as the second son of King Viserys and his fourth child, was most often overlooked by many in court. He wasn’t Rhaenyra, who held their father’s unconditional love, or Aegon, who carried the title of his first male child, and matters were made worse by the fact that his dragon egg had yet to hatch, whereas Aegon’s had done so when he was still pretty young, and Helaena had quickly claimed Dreamfyre. Even his mother, who once doted on him like never before, had lessened her attention over him, as her fourth pregnancy progressed and her affection usually leaned more towards her only daughter.

So when his little niece, barely old enough to attend lessons, had developed a fascination towards him and would often trail behind him wherever he went, he absolutely basked in the attention that was so freely given. You, who had no obligation to him other than to be cordial at best, gazing up at him with adoration in those innocent eyes made him cherish the moments you spend together.

It was only natural, then, that the two of you could often be found in each other’s presence. Whenever neither of you were having lessons and were left to your own devices, you seemed to always find each other, your tiny hand enveloped in Aemond’s not much bigger one as he pulled you behind him towards whatever destination he had in mind.

“Where we going, Aem?” your sweet voice, not yet able to properly speak his name, would often ask. The library, the dragonpit, the gardens, it didn’t truly matter as long as you were together.

Aem.

The nickname you had bestowed upon him was one of his deepest treasures. To everyone else he was either Aemond, son or brother, and two of these he had to share with other people, but to you, and to you alone, he was Aem. It was something so inherently his, something to share with you and only you. It reminded him of you, of the devotion and admiration you held for him, something no one else seemed to have for him, and he never wanted to let go of it.

But as he would be reminded time and time again he should never hope, nor should he wish for good things for himself, for they could be ripped from him at a moment’s notice.

The day had started out like any other: after your lessons you had quickly scrambled out of your quarters to find Aemond and spend the day together. He had decided, then, to take you to the training grounds to watch some of the knights train.

“See that one over there?” he pointed to a man, just barely out of adolescence, training with Criston Cole “That is Ser Arryk. Or could he be Erryk? It matters not, either way, both of them are really good. Ser Criston is training them to be the newest members of the Kingsguard.”

“Wow.” you sounded from next to him, mesmerized by the clash of the swords.

“Impressive, hm?” he then pointed to another man who was supervising the training “Ser Criston, over there, he is the best knight in all the realms. I hope to train under him and be as good as he is one day.”

He was eager to start training with the sword, like his older brother already did. His mother had promised him that he could start his own training after his next nameday, though it was still a few moons away, he was already eagerly waiting for that moment.

“You be amazing knight in future, Aem.” you turned towards him then, that look of pure reverence made warmth spread in his chest, for he felt your words were true.

“Aem?!” a familiar voice cackled behind the two of you, and Aemond could feel the cold dread seeping into his heart like it usually did when his brother decided to torment him.

Aegon marched over in your direction, almost an entire head taller than Aemond, and ruffled his younger brother’s hair with a tad more force than necessary.

“Oh, Aemy, you will be such an amazing knight one day.” he spoke in a poor imitation of your own voice, high pitched and overly sweet and dreamy. Your face was scrunched in anger and poorly contained humiliation, and had the two of you not been under scrutiny Aemond would have found it adorable.

“Aegon, stop it!” he tried defending the two of you but he couldn’t stop his own cheeks from lighting up in embarrassment.

“Aemy, oh, Aem. Perhaps our mothers will marry us off to one another and I can carry your children.” Aegon chuckled before flicking his brother on the forehead “You would surely want that, wouldn’t you, you twat?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. With a warcry unbefitting of a princess of the realm you delivered a sharp kick to Aegon’s shin, the only part of him you could really reach, before running off with tiny droplets streaming down your cheeks. Aemond tried going after you, holding your wrist, but you swatted his hand away and disappeared around the corner.

“She attacked me!” Aegon complained, voice strained from the intensity of the blow, utterly baffled at how something so small could carry so much strength.

“Oh, please!” Aemond pushed past his brother, annoyed, before stomping away towards his own quarters “It barely scratched. And you deserved it.”

For the next three days you ignored both of them, preferring to spend your days with Heleana. Whenever he asked about you, his mother would claim you didn’t wish for visitors and would rather stay in the company of your aunt. Aemond couldn’t deny that it stung, the only person he felt cared for him deeply, no longer wanting to spend time with him.

So he was overjoyed when, on the fourth day, you approached him as if nothing had ever happened, your expression light and smile bright as you held his hand.

“Where we going, uncle?” and his face fell, joy completely dissipating and giving way to sadness.

You refused to call him by his previous nickname after that day, opting to refer to him only as ‘uncle’ going forward, and Aemond felt an overwhelming longing for things to go back to the way they were. He couldn’t help the resentment he felt towards Aegon for ruining what you had, for he felt it in his bones that things between the two of you would never truly be the same again.

2. Jason Lannister

You were bored out of your very mind at the moment. You had zoned out completely and could barely hear the incessant droning of Jason Lannister’s voice in the background as you reflected upon your life at the moment.

After that night in the bathtub where you shared your very first kiss with your uncle, you feared things between the two of you would change, and change for the worse. You didn’t want that, cherishing what you had with Aemond, even if it never went anywhere beyond friendship. But you needn’t have worried so much, for both of you seemed adamant in not ever speaking of that night ever again. It did sting a little if you were being honest with yourself, but you preferred that over ruining what you had.

So you were very much looking forward to spending a few hours with him before lunch when you were intercepted by Ser Jason Lannister.

“You look wonderful today, my princess.” the man had smiled down at you.

“Uh, thank you, my lord.” you answered, confused as to what he could possibly want.

“Why don’t you give me the pleasure of going on a stroll with me around the gardens?”

You didn’t know why he wanted to take a stroll with you of all people. And to be fair you didn’t want to spend more time than necessary in his presence. What you did want was to find Aemond and spend your day with him. But something, a strange sense of propriety and duty, held you back and you found yourself agreeing with his proposal.

That’s how you ended in the current situation, arm looped with his as he droned on and on and on about himself and his wealth and his castle and many other topics you couldn’t care less about.

In your reverie you hadn’t even realized you had reached the training grounds until Aemond, who had just finished his training session with Ser Criston, smiled and waved at you as he was putting a wooden shield away. You were about to wave back when Ser Jason’s voice pulled your attention back to him once more.

“Well, princess, this is where we must part ways, unfortunately.” he gave a small bow of his head before letting go of your arm “The maesters say it is good to keep active, so I will go see if I can find a sparring partner.”

You barely spared him a courtesy as Aemond was already by your side, ready to whisk you away.

“What was that all about?” he asked when you were already halfway to the library, a sense of unease pulling at his heartstrings once he remembered the way your arm was linked with the older lord.

“I do not know for sure.” you shrugged “I barely paid attention to what he was saying. Something about his riches I believe, we just went on a walk around the Keep.”

He laughed then, though it lacked any mirth, and his smile no longer reached his eyes.

“What is it?”

“You are so naïve, niece.” he explained.

“And why is that?” you questioned, feeling slightly offended.

“He wishes to court you.”

Your disgust at the thought must have been reflected very clearly upon your face, for he let out a full, genuine laugh this time.

“B-But- why?!” you tried collecting your thoughts, flabbergasted by such revelation “He is so…”

“Arrogant? Boring? Plain? All of the above?” Aemond completed for you, jesting at the situation.

“Old!” you whined and he laughed even harder at your expanse ��I mean it! He is older than my own father!” you got closer to him to whisper conspiratorially at him “I heard he courted mother when she was looking for a husband, and he was already considered too old for her at the time.”

His laughter echoed around the halls, a few servants stopping to stare at the two of you, dumbfounded at the way you seemed to be able to bring the usually stoic prince out of his shell.

“But why does he wish to court me? Why not some other, older, lady?” you asked, still confused.

“Well, you are not just any lady, mandianna. You are a princess.” he explained, though his words seemed practiced, like they were reflections of not his own thoughts but those of other people “Any lord would jump at the opportunity to wed you. Chances are, in fact, that more suitors will start to flock around you for attention as you grow.”

“Ugh!” your shoulders slumped under the weight of your frustration “I do not wish to marry these lords!” you threw your hands up in exasperation “I just wish to spend my days with you and Helaena! Why can I not just marry you, then?!”

He felt a twinge too tight of happiness at the notion, but chose to ignore it and listen as you continued with your rant.

“If I were to marry one of these lords I would be miserable!”

His face softened in sympathy, remembering the conversation he overheard between his mother and grandsire regarding Aegon and Heleana’s betrothal. He felt pained for his sister, for he knew Aegon would not treat her how she deserved, and now he was seeing the same pattern with you.

“It is our duty, I fear, to find matches that best interest our House.” he spoke softly, but you turned towards him infuriated, and he feared he said the wrong thing.

“But I do not want to marry for duty!” his heart clenched in his chest as he noticed your eyes brimming with tears “I want a husband who loves and cares for me, like father and mother!”

He held back his tongue, knowing that speaking his mind about the kind of love between your parents, or lack thereof, would only upset you further. There was no denying that Ser Laenor cared deeply for Rhaenyra, just not in the way a husband should a wife.

The both of you stayed quiet for a moment, you simmering in your unsettled thoughts and him disappointed he couldn’t comfort you further, for this was something that was out of his hands.

“I would not mind, you know?” he heard you speak softly, turning his head to find you already looking at him.

“What?”

“Marrying you.” you smiled softly at him “At least with you I would be content. I could see us being happy, even.”

Your words were a soothing balm over his heart, making it clench in his chest. He, too, did find the notion appealing, he could be happy with you, hells, you already made him happy.

“If it matters,” he spoke, trying to hide his true feelings behind a layer of nonchalance “I would not mind marrying you either.”

Your smile brightened then, and you bumped your shoulder with his.

“One can dream, right?” you giggled, before sighing once a servant came to fetch you to clean up before lunch, annoyed that your time with him had been cut short.

But as you walked away an idea formed in his mind, and with a determination he hadn’t felt in a really long time, he set off to find his half-sister.

3. Alicent Hightower

“No.” the Queen’s voice was harsh, and Aemond’s heart filled with dread as he peaked from his hiding place behind a pillar in her solar. He knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop but his traitorous heart was too anxious to wait.

“Come on, your grace.” Rhaenyra answered, clearly annoyed, a hand placed on her very pregnant stomach and another on her lower back, as if standing here arguing was bringing her physical discomfort “The boy came to me, begging for her hand in marriage, all that was left was for him to fall to his knees. She herself has asked about the possibility of marrying him once. They are the perfect match!”

After your conversation earlier that day, Aemond had set off to find Rhaenyra and ask, no, beg her to allow him to court and eventually marry you. She had laughed in his face, and he tried not to show how her dismissal wounded his pride, until her face softened once she realized he was serious.

“Please, sister.” he had even stooped so low as to address their familial bond, no matter how sour the word tasted in his mouth “Allow me to marry her. As her husband, she would want for nothing, I would protect her with my very life. And I could even… make her happy.”

Rhaenyra’s face softened then, for the first time realizing how much her little brother truly cared for her daughter. She had known the two of you were close, but the depth of your feelings for one another was only now being revealed to her. So she promised him she would speak with his own mother, and if Alicent agreed, then so would she. Aemond’s heart had plummeted then, knowing it would be a lot harder getting through his mother. But he wouldn’t give up hope.

But hope, it seemed, was not enough.

“No, and my answer is final.” Alicent moved about, trying to get Rhaenyra to leave and go bother someone else.

“Alicent,” even though she had her back towards him, Aemond could imagine the tick in his mother’s eye at the informal way Rhaenyra was addressing her “All I am asking is that you consider it.”

“Why do you even think they would be a good match for one another?”

“Oh, by the Gods, Alicent! Can you not see how much they care for each other? The amount of time they spend together? They are practically glued at the hip at this point!” Rhaenyra threw her hands up in exasperation, and Aemond could see yourself so perfectly in your mother’s image “I will just ask my father then.”

“Do not entertain that idea even for a moment!” Alicent’s voice became shrill as she glared at her former friend “What is this even about, hm? Are you so afraid that child” and she pointed at Rhaneyra’s prominent bump “will be born sooner or later bearing a striking resemblance to a certain commander of the City Watch once more that you resort to this… this scheming? To secure your line of succession, is that it?”

Ouch. That was low, even for Alicent’s standards.

Rhaenyra’s face hardened as she stepped closer to the Queen, and for a moment fear gripped Aemond’s heart that he was about to witness his mom get battered.

“My brother, your own son” she spat out, genuinely angry now “begged me to let him marry my daughter when they are older. He promised me he would be a good husband, and for once in my life I am inclined to believe him.” her face softened then, raising her hands as if to grab Alicent’s but let them drop, thinking better than to try and touch her “Please, your grace. If there is still any care left in your heart for the love we once held for one another, please let me do this for him.”

Aemond waited with bated breath for his mother to say something, anything. For once in his life he allowed himself to hope; he’d give up everything, even his dream of having a dragon of his own, just so she’d say yes. But the longer she went without saying anything, the deeper the cracks in his heart became.

“I will not be able to change your mind, will I?” Rhaenyra asked, her face contorting in sympathy, and when Alicent shook her head, breaking his heart in a thousand tiny little pieces in the process, she sighed “Then I feel sorry for Aemond. For both of them.”

As Rhaenyra left the Queen’s solar, Aemond took his leave as well, his heart shattered and a weight heavy on his stomach, regretting even going to his half-sister in the first place. It seemed you and he could never be after all.

4. Rhaenyra Targaryen

Tears streamed down your face as you ran through the cold tunnels of Maegor’s Holdfast, not caring even for a moment that you were only dressed in a nightgown. The news you had just heard from your father regarding your mother’s decision weighed heavily in your heart, and you had to share them with your uncle immediately. It couldn’t wait until the morrow, because come first light you might be gone.

“Hells, niece, will you ever learn to knock?” Aemond had turned towards you once you barged inside his chambers through the secret door, freezing once he noticed the state you were in. He was in front of you in a second, holding your cheeks in his palms and forcing you to look at him “What happened?”

Even though his image was blurred by the tears that kept on rolling down your cheeks, barely noticing when he started collecting them with his thumbs, you could perfectly see the concern etched upon his features, and that was all it took for you to release the sobs you had been holding back, falling into his arms and hiccuping against his shoulder.

“Mandianna, what happened?!” he asked, holding your trembling figure in his arms and awkwardly trying to console you, running a gentle hand up and down your back. He had never seen you in such a state before, and he did not truly know how to help, much less without knowing the cause of your distress.

Once you had calmed down enough, your wails reduced to soft sniffles, you pulled back from him, running the back of your hand through your face to try and look more presentable.

“Mother has decided to move us to Dragonstone.”

Aemond’s breath hitched then.

“What?” he whispered, taking a step back from you.

“Father just told me. We are to leave King’s Landing come first light in the morrow.”

He felt his whole world crumbling before his very eyes then. He believed his heart could no longer face more damage, for it had already been broken when he overheard his mother and Rhaenyra’s conversation a sennight before, but he felt it shatter all over again at your words.

“C-Can you not stay behind?” With me?, he wanted to ask as his own eyes started filling with tears.

“I asked, but father says we are all to go. Me, Jace, Luke and baby Joffrey.”

His heart was beating widely in his chest, twisting painfully at the prospect of having to face everyday at court without you to keep him company, to keep him sane.

“We can write, of course, but-” you started, voice still trembling.

“It will not be the same.” he completed for you.

It was true, wasn’t it? Things were about to change. On one hand he wouldn’t have to face the teasing from Jace and Luke, just Aegon, the main instigator. But on the other hand he would lose you, which was so much worse.

But then he noticed how your lower lip had started quivering again and realized he had put quite a lot of distance between the two of you. Not wanting you to jump to the wrong conclusions he crossed the space he had created and cupped your cheeks, looking sternly into your eyes.

“It does not change anything.”

“Aemond-” you looked at him with sympathy and disbelief but he wasn’t having it.

“No. It does not change anything between us.” he spoke, determined “I will write to you every single day, and I expect a response every time. It will be like you never left. You can fly on dragonback and come visit. And when I get my dragon, I will visit you in return.”

Your smile, although tentative and still wobbly, returned to your face and he felt relief wash through him.

“You said so yourself, the lines promised me I will have a dragon.” he rejoiced at hearing you giggle “I have to make good use of them when time comes.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you. Something in your eye, glimmering with a blazing hope, compelled Aemond to lean forward, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he took everything in.

“We will still be the same.” he felt you move, nodding against his head, never once moving away “We will still be us.”

And even though, or perhaps exactly because neither of you could prevent the events that would unfold in the following weeks, both of you believed it with every ounce of your souls.

5. Aemond Targaryen

“Aemond.” you knocked once more, your knuckles red and starting to ache from their incessant contact with the hard wood “Qȳbor, please open the door.”

He hadn’t left his temporary chambers in days, and no one would let you see him. After the whole ordeal with Vhagar and the fight between your two mothers in the grand hall at Driftmark after the loss of his eye, Aemond was whisked away to the quarters he was stationed at during his stay so the maesters could work properly on his wound and for him to sleep off the copious amounts of milk of the poppy he had been given.

Having talked to your brothers and cousins and understood what had gone down, you started feeling a tad guilty for the way you reacted to it. Yes, you were still hurt over what he had said about your brothers and, by extension, you. But at the same time you had let him go when he was the most vulnerable, he had just lost an eye for the Gods’ sake. And yet, even though you were hurting, so was he, he needed you and yet you let go and ran from him.

So you had decided you needed to talk. Perhaps, if you apologized for Luke’s actions and your own behavior, he’d offer an apology of his own, for calling your brothers bastards and for not extending Rhaena the courtesy of trying to claim her late mother’s dragon before him. Then, having cleared the air, you could move past this and go back to the way things were, with exchanged letters and promises of visiting one another.

But your attempts seemed futile. There was always a guard stationed in front of his door, denying you entrance every single time you asked. Even though they were stern, hardened by their training, you tried using your authority as princess to order them to let you through, but to no such luck.

“Apologies, princess.” they would say, a smidge of sympathy and annoyance in their tone ��The prince is to receive no visitors. Orders from her grace, the Queen.”

Panic was starting to grip at your heart, for your time was running out. Eventually, as soon as Aemond was recovered enough to travel, King Viserys and his family would leave Driftmark and return to King’s Landing. By then it would be too late. If you didn’t speak to him now, you would lose Aemond forever. That is, if you hadn’t already lost him for good. You had to speak to him, and it had to be soon, otherwise he’d leave and you would lose the one person you cared most in the world, who understood you like no one else, and would be left to drown in your own loneliness.

So you started scheming. You waited around the corridor of his chambers, waiting for rotation of the guard so you could catch his door unattended. You almost managed once, but Queen Alicent opened the door to exit the room, stopping dead in her tracks once she came face to face with you, about to knock.

“Your grace!” you were quick to recompose yourself “I came to visit the prince. I wish to see if he is faring well.”

You winced, instantly regretting your choice of words once her face hardened. Of course he wasn’t faring well, he just lost his bloody eye!

“Aemond is not receiving any visitors.” her voice was harsh, and dread overcame you as she started to walk away.

“Wait!” she stopped but didn’t turn around to face you as you pleaded “I just- I just want to see him.”

When she did turn her features were laced with a combination of disdain and pity. It stirred something so deep inside you you almost recoiled and ran, but you decided to endure.

“He doesn’t wish to see anyone, princess.” she spoke, her tone stern yet motherly. But the implications of her words were not lost on you.

He doesn’t wish to see you.

It hurt, tears brimming in your eyes as you turned around and headed for your chambers.

Did he truly not wish to see you? Or did he just wish for solitude, away from everyone? Could your friendship still be mended after both of you had been hurt like this?

It didn’t matter, afterall, for you were determined to try until the very end.

That’s how you found yourself in front of his door, finally alone with him, having waited patiently for the guard’s rotation and making sure his mother wasn’t around. It was his final night in Driftmark before he was set to return to the capitol, and so this was your last, final chance to talk to him before that.

There was a light flickering inside his chambers, visible from under the door, so you knew he likely wasn’t asleep, and when you had knocked for the first time, you heard a thud coming from inside, like he had bumped into some furniture, so you believed he had listened to you. But no matter how many times you knocked, he wouldn’t open it, nor give any indication that he was listening.

“Aemond, please.” you tried again “Please, let us talk.”

The longer you went without an answer, the tighter the knot that was forming in your throat became. Growing desperate, you laid your forehead on the cold, damp wood.

“Please.” you breathed out, not even sure he could hear you now “Talk to me, Aemond. Please.”

For a moment, a short, passing moment, you heard a flutter of movement from inside the room. Your breath hitched, a tiny flicker of unadulterated hope burning in your chest that he had heard you and was coming to talk. But it was quickly snuffed out when you heard nothing else follow.

A deep ache took over your chest, like something had dug its claws in your heart and squeezed. The inevitability of it all, the looming sense of grief over something so close yet impossibly far, out of your grasp completely, clouded your mind and had your ears ringing.

“I am sorry.” you said, taking a step back and turning around to leave “For everything.”

As you walked away you couldn’t help but feel like a part of you was missing. For you had just lost him for good. Perhaps forever.

As you brushed off your skirts, having been sat on the grass by the weirwood tree, you set off to find your mother, determination written across your features.

You nearly ran into Luke as you walked briskly, sending a thankful look to Rhaena as she helped you steady him.

“Where are you off to in such a rush?” Jace asked as he came up behind your brother at the same time you bypassed him and Baela and continued on your way.

“To secure myself a husband!” you shouted over your shoulder, not even turning back around to address them. Now all that was left was to find your mother.

And search for her you did. It was imperative that you found her quickly, for you wanted to make sure you did this tonight. It had to be tonight. No one knew how much longer the King would live, and the moment he drew his final breath, a war would break out within your family. A war that would ravage all of the Seven Kingdoms. So you had to make sure that didn’t happen while your grandire was still alive and lucid enough to give you his full support.

But Rhaenyra was nowhere to be found. The Keep was huge and there was a probability that you were both on the move and simply never crossing paths. You even stumbled upon Helaena during your search as she tended to her youngest son, Maelor.

“Have you seen my mother, aunt?” you asked after a brief and sweet exchange, though you did not hug her like you would Baela and Rhaena, for you knew she did not like to be touched.

“I have not, niece.” she bounced baby Maelor in her arms as he cooed up at her “Why are you in such a haste to find her, if I might ask?”

“I have something of utmost importance to discuss with her.” you smirked as you added next, and by the glimmer in her eyes she understood the hidden meaning of your words “I believe I have found myself a suitable husband and must ask her to arrange our betrothal as soon as possible.”

“Oh!” she smiled brightly then “So we might be celebrating tonight.”

To your surprise and confusion, her smile faltered just a bit, her eyes becoming unfocused, before she smiled brightly again.

“With a union forged in fire and blood, the dragon’s nest is put to rest.”

You dared not question her, for Helaena often spoke in riddles, even in your youth. Biding her farewell you went back to your task. You didn’t have to search long though, for you quite literally bumped into your mother and Daemon right as you were turning down the corridor from Helaena’s chambers.

“Mother!” you exclaimed as you helped Daemon steady a once again very pregnant Rhaenyra “There you are!”

“You were looking for me, darling?” she asked.

“Yes.” you cleared your throat, squaring your shoulders “I wish for a husband.”

That seemed to take both of them by surprise, their eyes widening.

“O-Oh!” she smiled then, still confused where this was coming from “And did you have someone in mind?”

“I wish to take Aemond as my husband.”

“Darling.” her face softened in pity as Daemon scoffed “You know the Queen would never allow this union.”

“That’s not all, mother. I think I may have found a way neither she nor the Hand could refuse.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon exchanged a curious glance with one another.

“Let us hear it then.” your step-father encouraged.

“I want Aemond as my husband.” you took a steadying breath, knowing you’d have to argue the next part “And I want him to be King.”

“Absolutely not!” was Daemon’s reaction, while your mother just looked… betrayed. And it broke your heart. You knew what she was thinking, she had just reaffirmed you as her heir, had to fight for it, and you now want to pass that off to someone else entirely?

“Please allow me to explain.”

“Why would you suggest such a thing?! To that cunt, of all people!” Daemon kept on raging, but his words were abruptly cut short as Rhaenyra raised her hand.

“Let her speak.” her tone was firm, and you knew you had to choose your next words carefully to plead your case.

“Word has come to me of a… plot against you as King Viserys’ heir.” her face twitched in anger for just a moment “The Queen and the Hand will try to instate Aegon as King once grandsire passes.”

“What is new?” Daemon laughed, incredulous.

“And the noble houses would back his claim.” you explained “Many will not recognize you as the legitimate heir-”

“But-” your mother tried cutting you off but you continued over her.

“-regardless of the oath they swore years ago. Simply because Aegon has a cock and you do not.” you hated how crass you sounded, but you had to get the point across “And then a bloody civil war would break out, for you would not let this go unpunished, am I wrong?”

Rhaenyra pondered for a moment before nodding, and you took that as a sign to continue.

“A war between us, dragonlords, would absolutely decimate not only our House but also the realm. But a marriage alliance between me, your heir and future Queen, and my uncle might just make them give up on this quest.”

“Otto would never settle for his blood being just consort.” Daemon argued.

“That is why he would not be consort.” you smirked, the catch you were waiting to reveal slipping from your lips.

“You shouldn’t give up your claim and be consort either!” your mother exclaimed.

“I would not do such a thing. I would be the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Both of them looked baffled.

“Now you have lost me.” she said.

“When the time comes, both me and Aemond would be crowned Queen and King, and we would rule together as equals. No consorts.”

Rhaenyra took a step back from surprise, and Daemon looked like he was told the realm’s funniest joke.

“You cannot be serious, tala!” he chuckled, but there was an undertone of disbelief to it.

“It could work.” your mother spoke to herself.

“Rhaenyra, you cannot be entertaining this ridiculous idea!” Daemon turned towards her then, wringing his hands as if to stop himself from grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking some sense into her “It is not tradition!”

“Fuck tradition!” you exclaimed a lot more harshly than you intended, and probably a lot harsher than it was appropriate.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down enough.

“You being heir over Aegon already breaks tradition as it is. Like I said, many will not see you as legitimate. But even if they do, and you are able to rule, the same thing would happen to me and Jace. But will you make all the great houses swear another oath to you?” Rhaneyra understood where you were going with this “Having a husband to back me up as heir, to rule alongside me, would give me strength in my own claim. If you are already breaking traditions, what is one more, eh?”

“You might want to keep your voice down.” Daemon spoke lowly, and you noticed he was staring at someone “The walls have ears in this Keep.”

From the corner of your eye you saw a familiar figure, and in a moment of panic, grabbed your mother’s hand and pulled her towards the temporary chambers you were housed in. You did not want Aemond to overhear what you had to say, fearful that should anyone hear about this ahead of time it would all crumble to shambles. As Daemon joined you two, shortly after, you continued.

“Please, please mother! Think about it. It might be the only way.”

Rhaenyra was silent. While Daemon looked vexed, but made no further complaints, she looked deep in thought. You knew she knew you were right. She just had to see it for herself.

“It would be easier to convince them if we had the King’s approval. That is why we need to do this tonight, at supper.”

Daemon bristled but didn’t say anything. Your mother on the other hand agreed, even if she believed this was all very rushed.

“Would you be happy though?” she then asked, and it was your turn to be surprised “Marrying Aemond? After everything that has happened?”

You looked between her and Daemon, and for once in your life you were certain of what you wanted.

“Aemond has always been kind to me. Or most of the time, at least.” you shrugged “I believe, with due time, we could put our differences aside and rebuild what we once had. Perhaps even learn to love each other.”

Again, you meant. Learn to love each other again. At least in your case.

“Then it is settled.” she looked determined “We will pitch this proposition tonight.”

A wave of relief washed over you. This could work, genuinely actually work. Perhaps it didn’t have to end in bloodshed like you believed it would. Maybe your family could be whole again. And all of that at the cost of marrying the one you had longed for deeply in your heart once.

“He asked for your hand once, you know.” Rhaenyra broke you out of your trance, a soft smile on her face and a far away look in her eyes, as if she was reminiscing on a fond memory. Daemon had left at some point, leaving you both alone to share this conversation, too deep and personal for anyone else to hear, in private “Right before we left for Dragonstone.”

Your heart clenched in your chest at the revelation. He had wished to marry you as well?

“He said he could make you happy. And I believed him.” she then looked at you, cupping your cheek as pride took over her smile “I believe it still.”

You grasped at her wrist, feeling warm at the love you could feel it emanating from her.

“If you believe you could be happy as well,” she continued “then you have my blessing. That is all I want.”

You nodded, blinking back tears.

“I do. I will be very happy.”

She nodded then, pulling you into her arms. In the safety of your mother’s embrace, you finally let yourself relax. Your fate was yours to shape how you saw fit, and you intended to make the most of it.

And you would.

High Valyrian translations: - mandianna - niece (older sister’s son or daughter) - qȳbor - uncle (mother’s younger brother) - tala - daughter (meant here affectionately, not by blood, as there are no terms for step-relative in High Valyrian)

Tag List:

@callsignwidow

@sleephereicome

@bitchassgoose

@voguiing

@dibutw

@fruityvampslayer

@garden-in-the-rain

@queen-of-elves

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x niece!reader #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic

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planetpedri · 15 hours ago

Note

hey girly please can you do one with marc bernal where he’s super clingy after his injury and he just wants to be babied, tysm xxx

Generous heart — Marc bernal.

Pairing: Marc Bernal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend had never been a clingy person, but it seems this injury had changed him more than you thought.

Word count: 560+

Disclaimer/s: Acl injury, pain, light angst to comfort. mostly fluff though !

A/N: When do the injuries end UGHHH. Come back soon diva

Marc’s parents had been allowing you to stay over for the night more and more. Ever since his injury, they had claimed he’d been more down than usual, but whenever you came around, suddenly his spirits were lifted and he felt.. well, the closest thing to normal someone could with the injuries he’d sustained.

While sitting up in his bed, Marc uncomfortably moved around. At some points he’d wince in pain, trying to disguise his discomfort by looking to the side. Each time you’d remind him that he needed to verbally tell you if something was hurting, rather than pretending it wasn’t there.

So, you’d convinced him to just lay down, which he did, but not without pulling you down with him. A soft laugh escaped your lips as he tugged on your arm.

“Lay down with me.” He huffs, looking up at you with a forced scowl.

“Chillax, i’m going to!” You grin, slowly inching yourself from a sitting position down to a lying one. The second you were flat against his bed, he pulled you closer, using his right arm to slip under your head.

Once he was satisfied with the position, your head resting on his shoulder, he bent his head down to place a kiss to the top of your head.

You smile at the gesture before unlocking your phone and opening TikTok, scrolling mindlessly through the videos as Marc watched with you.

Thats how most of your days and nights spent together went. He would have you cuddle with him and watch whatever you had on your phone. In fact, he’d prefer you nearly laying on top of him on your phone, than you giving him space and sitting beside him.

Marc was never this.. cuddly before. You weren’t complaining, though. Just to make that clear. You loved it, in fact. But, it was new, and each time you couldn’t help but smile the whole time. You liked this part of him, the one you hadn’t seen much until recently.

“Wait!” He suddenly says, making your eyes widen and shoot up to him, “I wasn’t done with that video, scroll up.”

Letting out a long breath, you huff. “Holy shit, you scared me!”

A guilty look passes across his face, “sorry..” He says sheepishly, “just scroll up, please?”

Nodding, you scroll back to the last video. “Let me know when I can continue.” You chuckle.

“Will do.” He hums, “hey, wait.”

Groaning, you pause the video. “Yes?” You meet his gaze once again and you’re met with a smug smirk. Great.

“A kiss would do.”

Oh this little…

Rolling your eyes, you tilt your head back to grant him access to your lips. He takes the chance, using his free hand to place his thumb and index finger on your chin, tilting your head up a little further. You don’t think you’d ever get used to his kisses, they were always so gentle and meaningful and perfect…

Sighing into the kiss, your eyes flutter shut. “Anything else you need? You big baby.” You murmur against his lips, feeling the smile that forms on his.

“I am a little hungry..” He pulls away, cocking his head to the side. “Takeout?”

“Or we could get off our asses and go make some real food.” You suggest, but exit TikTok to open google. “What do you want?”

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any future marc related posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

#marc bernal #marc bernal x reader #marc bernal x you #marc guiu x female reader #marc bernal x y/n #marc bernal imagine #marc bernal one shot #blurb #football #fluff #fanfic #fc barcelona #fc barcelona fic #fc barça

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inubaki · 3 days ago

Text

Soundless Confession

"Everyone dismissed."

*Lucifer bowed respectfully to his elder brother, dismissing himself to the flourishing garden of Eden. He wasn't supposed to be here though. Michael had made that clear. Carefully, he fluttered down, avoiding as much noise as he could, until he was seated on a very large branch of a peach tree.

The young Seraphim's eyes were vacant, as if observing something. What could he have been observing?

Why, the First Man, of course! He was watching from a distance, absolutely fascinated by his tanned skin, his brown hair, and his wonderfully golden eyes. He looked so different compared to the angels' pale skin and (mostly) blond hair. He didn't bear any facial markings like the angels. He was completely new and captured Lucifer's attention.

A duck ran past Adam's feet, capturing his attention with its quacking. It seemed to have spotted something, waddling towards the tree, making a huge ruckus. It continued to honk and quack up the trunk, fixated on something in the branches.

Lucifer tried desperately to shush the duck, falling out of the tree from leaning too far.*

*Adam looked at the newcomer with curious eyes. He couldn't help but tilt his head in fascination at this strange new being. Gently, as if picking up a baby animal, he picked the creature up to examine him. The animal was small and had many wings. Adam brushed a finger through the feathers and watched as the creature shivered at his touch. Adam hummed as he began to gently run his fingers over the white skin he saw.

The animal was pale, lacking any color until his got to his cheeks. Such a vibrant blue. The creature made odd noises as he touched him but when he began picking at the thing draping over his body by sticking a hand underneath, it let out a squeal.

Adam blinked. Well, if the male animal wanted to be put down, then he supposed that he could oblige. He placed the creature on the ground and watched as he brushed himself off. Adam almost thought he was a human like himself, but…something inside told him that whatever this creature was, wasn't human. His cheeks looked to be turning yellow…it reminded him of a bird he saw…

"Now that we got all of that sorted out, I can introduce myself." The creature smiled up at him as Adam looked down at him. He was very small, coming to Adam's hip.

"I'm Lucifer Morningstar, Adam. I am an angel of the Lord." Adam titled his head. An angel? He just stared at him. He didn't know what kind of noises the creature was making. It wasn't like anything he'd ever heard.

The sun light sipping through the trees casted a glow over the being’s wings and hair. The a brilliant shade so enticing, Adam couldn’t help but reach out and touch an upper wing. It flinched at his touch, reminding Adam of the shyer breeds within the garden. Slowly he bends down to be more level with the being crowned in gold. Tracing the delicate shape of their face, the shades of their eyes and cheeks. Carefully he cupped their face and something about brushed the blue markings pulled a frozen reaction. Adam smiled and cooed softly as he would any animal, hoping the draw them closer to inspect.

Lucifer's cheeks turned a brilliant yellow when he felt those strong hands on his face. How they brushed his porcelain white face. When Adam began cooing at him like he was an animal did he realize that Adam…didn't know how to speak. Why would the angels make him like that? That…was rather odd. Lucifer bit his lip when he felt fingers brush through wings and gently grabbed his wrists. "Adam, gentle." The human tilted his head and brought his face impossibly closer to Lucifer's, cooing soflty.

Lucifer allowed him to look at him while he did the same. He loved just how big Adam was. Very different than what he was expecting but he couldn't say he was disappointed.

Adam stared at his wings incredulously. His fingers slowly drafting through the shades of colors with fascination. Its softness was something foreign and unique, different than the other animals under his care. Was it a bird or something more chimera like the wildebeest? Plucking the pretty thing off the ground, Adam carried him out from the shade and held it high wards the sun. And through its bright exposure the wonderful thing’s wings light up on full display. Simmering varies of blues and tinted whites more spectacular than any other bird or rainbow. Adam twirled the spectacular thing around with a boyish laugh watching its sparkle in the sun. But he wasn’t so in marvel not to take notice of the creatures’s strange coverings. It obscured his view and by lowering the tiny thing, Adam gave its head a pet.

*Adam, for the life of him, couldn't figure out what he was. Then, he decided that this strange new creature must be newly created. So Adam must name him. He always took a long time to come up with a name and then they would just….become what he thought of them. This creature was special. He would have come up with a extra special name for him.

He hugged the creature close, noticing he was making those strange noises again.*

The noises were pretty and immediately drew Adam to inspect its mouth next. Watching intently as its mouth and its tongue rolled over each sound. Finding the movement to be deliberate each interrogate vocal and formation. Moving closer for further investigation, the pretty thing abruptly stopped before slipping out his hold a laugh. That, Adam could recognize as a noise similar to himself. Birds couldn’t do that without mimicking him, dumping Adam’s bird theory, but emerging with a new idea. That, perhaps, this being was something more new. Like the things he heard whispered in dreams. “You truly are innocent, aye? I can’t believe that my siblings haven’t even tried to met you yet…” Lucifer said. Moving back slowly with a laugh as Adam only seemed to be all the more fascinated by him. After the long neglect from his siblings, it was strangely endearing to be of someone’s entire focus. He looked more closely upon Adam and reached out to mimic the same petting motion Adam did before. This brought a smile to the human, which Lucifer was more than happy to return when suddenly Adam reached out and pulled at his robes.

Adam was curiouse to know what the strange second skin was like underneath. Another squeak came from the creature but Adam would not be deterred at this point. He wanted to know.

"Please! Wait!" Lucifer begged as Adam finally succeeded in looking underneath. It was marvelous. This creature had the same parts as him except bigger then Adam's! Lucifer finally succeeded in pushing the garments down.

"Good Heavens…" Lucifer said, his cheeks yellow and clashing with his blue markings. Adam just stared at him in confusion but allowed the creature to do what he wanted.

“You shouldn’t do that—-!” Lucifer voice cut off as Adam reached out again as if to grab again for his robes. Lucifer, trying to be mindful of his strength, took Adam by the shoulders. Ready to push him off when the human didn’t try for the robe again, only touching the surface of the fabric. Lucifer exhaled, flustered and relieved while his mind scrambled for a way to communicate. He knew he could simply leave, but seeing the state his siblings were willing to leave Adam in, gave Lucifer pause. His lack of communication and obvious obliviousness of his knowledge of angels was honestly disconcerting. Like discovering a trapped animal in a cage and letting it think it was free. “Poor thing… you don’t know better…” Lucifer said with a sympathetic smile. Adam returned the gesture again while his hands still played with the fabric, rolling over Lucifer’s form with his large hands. It was embarrassing, feeling a swell of heat arise in other places beyond his cheeks. Adam’s exploring hands taking his mind slowly else where.

“Hey, Adam. Maybe I can teach yoOOUUUU!!!” Adam heard the being make the funniest of sound the moment he rediscovered the similar shape between its legs. His fingers moving over the shape, tracing its girth through the strange covering. While doing so, he reached down to touch himself between his legs to compare their shapes and sizes. His eyes widen when they both grew harder beneath his palms. Human enough apparently.

Again, the being made a strange sound as Adam rubbed the end of the being’s stiffness.

Dēoful…would that be its name?

Lucifer gasped in shock and let out a strangled moan as he watched as Adam compare them. If Adam didn't stop soon, Lucifer wouldn't be able to stop his instincts. He had already thought…of pinning this man down and show him just how he was supposed to do it. No. Control. He had to control himself. He grabbed Adam's wrists, firm but gently and placed them by the human’s side. "No. You can't touch without permission." Adam looked cresten fallen. He may not understand Lucifer but he does know when he's being denied. The strange creature didn't want him to touch there. He was curiouse still but he relented.

"Thank you…you'll end up making me do something I might regret later."

Lucifer watched as Adam stood up and picked a fruit from a tree before handing it to Lucifer. He ate his own fruit and watched him expectantly. Crossing his legs to hide his erection better he ate the fruit provided.

——-

Part 1 of a quick to done between @libby-for-life and I. Mainly for @sir-tater-of-the-tot!

Sorry for all the mistakes. Hopefully, I, at least, fixed mine. I just wanted something up that wasn’t about the fire or the election. I’ll draw a picture later!

#traditional art #adam x lucifer #lucifer x adam #drawing #hazbin hotel #my art #guitarduck #adamsapple #Libby rp

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unicyclehippo · 1 day ago

Note

For bishova: regret

it would be stupid to think she knew anything about yelena from one—a mostly masked fight on a rooftop, and two—a conversation slash interrogation (?) in her burned-up apartment but when the widow took the seat next to her in the booth where she had been drowning her sorrows, a bottle of top shelf vodka in her hand, kate couldn’t help thinking maybe the other girl was being nice.

but what the fuck did she know? she hadn’t even know her mom was a mob boss or whatever.

‘what do you want?’

‘to drink,’ yelena said calmly.

kate kept her head low. no one in a bar like this cared who she was—hopefully, though maybe she was risking it by patronising a dive bar, maybe her mom had double-crossed or pressured or stole from or threatened everyone in here.

kate didn’t tell yelena to leave but she didn’t say anything more. just sat and rolled a quarter over her knuckles again and again and again and again and—

‘you are not being a very welcoming friend, kate bish—‘

‘don’t,’ kate growled. out of the corner of her eye, she saw the assassin smirk. she probably sounded like a toothless puppy to her. she was a fucking joke. ‘just don’t. okay? sit and drink or go away.’

yelena sat. she poured a measure into one shot glass and pushed it in front of kate, who blinked down at it.

‘what—did you bring your own novelty shot glasses to a bar?’ she couldn’t think of another reason she’d have an Alice In Wonderland themed glass.

kate let the quarter clatter to the tabletop and traded it for the little glass, lifted it up to make sure.

DRINK ME, it said, with a cheshire grin.

yelena didn’t smile like that but when kate finally looked at her, properly, she was pretty sure the glint in her eyes was the assassin’s version of it.

‘yes. mine is even better. see?’

kate didn’t look down.

‘does it say hot sauce?’

‘it says hot sauce.’ yelena smiled toothily. ‘a funny thing to put on a shot glass, yes?’

‘yeah.’ kate mustered a dry sigh. ‘yeah, it’s - that’s funny.’

‘you are not amused. you are either not a funny person, kate—which i know is not true—or you are not paying attention to my very funny glass.’

yelena threw her shot back.

kate should look away. kate should not find it very attractive, the way yelena shook her hair back and swallowed the shot, licked a drop from the corner of her mouth. the line of her throat. kate should not have got her mom arrested. kate should not be upset about getting her mom arrested. kate should be stalwart and true and brave and—

yelena tapped the table. ‘drink.’

‘don’t tell me what to do,’ kate snapped, overly harsh.

the only sign that yelena noticed was her slow blink. then the assassin scoffed.

‘so rude, kate! here i am, bringing the “good stuff”, and you won’t drink? this is very hurtful. i am hurt!’ yelena insisted, hand to heart.

she was lying, of course. she had some spin, some angle, something she was trying to get out of her or do and kate didn’t have to play along this time! it wasn’t any of her business! except that yelena was here, of course, but what did that mean?

kate scowled down at her drink. she hadn’t even finished the mostly-foam beer the bartender had shoved into her hand, pint sticky with the drink that slopped over the edge. or from the drink before. which was gross but. whatever. she wished she’d drunk more. wished yelena hadn’t shown up yet but when she was a more respectable nine drinks in, which would be a real excuse for not knowing what angle yelena was working this time, for how muddled kate’s thoughts were.

an ache punched up into the soft of her brain, the headache (concussion?) kate had been ignoring for the last hour. she let out an unsteady breath and picked up the quarter again. squeezed it until that hurt more than her head.

‘did you poison it?’

yelena turned so she could lean an elbow on the table, prop her head against her hand. kate watched out of the corner of her eye as the other girl smiled very sweetly.

‘no.’

‘drug it?’

‘no.’

‘steal it?’

‘no.’

kate sighed.

‘fuck it. thanks.’

she drank.

the vodka hit the back of her throat first. then she tasted it; it tasted like the time she swore her head off and her mom told her to wash her mouth out with soap and she’d done it because—

‘another,’ kate rasped, and coughed.

yelena poured her another. when kate drank that one too, she said,

‘you did not strike me as this kind of girl.’

heat poured through kate, stomach out. it was nice. it was always so cold in new york. not the real kind of cold kept at bay with a good coat, and kate always had a good coat and boots she never slipped because her mom always got her the best stuff and scolded her when she tried to slide across a big patch of ice. new york was cold because there were so many people here but none of them were hers. and yet. here was yelena. and vodka. and kate was warm.

her tongue felt warm too, which was weird. maybe the drink was drugged. she didn’t think she cared at this point.

‘what kinda girl?’

‘the kind to sit in dirty bars and drink alone.’

kate considered that seriously. yelena’s words felt as smoky as her voice and the meanings kept slipping through her fingers. how strong was that vodka?

‘me neither,’ she confessed. ‘but before today did you think i was the kinda girl to get my mom arrested?’ it struck her as funny. it was funny! because, guess what, she is!

‘i was not sure,’ yelena said. ‘but i am not that surprised. it was fifty-fifty, yes?’

fifty-fifty chance she’s a bad daughter or a bad hero. great odds. fucking fantastic.

‘you are having regret.’

kate eyed her empty shot glass.

‘i will give you another when you answer my question.’

kate grinned. leaned closer to her drinking buddy. ‘so this—‘ she patted yelena’s shoulder—and was sober enough to see the frown that earned her to remember not to do that again—‘this is an interrogation, huh? okay.’ she leaned closer. ‘i wish you hadn’t told me.’

yelena narrowed her eyes. read kate like an open book. easier—like words on a clear shot glass.

‘you do not mean that.’

kate shrugged. she wasn’t so sure. she nudged her shot glass closer to yelena. ‘any more questions or will you be a good drinking buddy and top me up, romanoff?’

she thought yelena wanted to say something for a second, as she sat back in the seat and tilted her head. but then yelena only poured her another drink and kate thought better of it. what the fuck did she know? not her mom. and certainly not yelena.

#tagging my stories #prompt fill #bishova #hawkeye fic

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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 2 days ago

Text

Over 200 followers poll!

Hi. It's me. :)

I've recently hit 200 followers, something I never imagined has happened, like I'm genuinely surprised considering my huge lack of creativity. And me not being english... ye... I count that as a flaw for my writing...

In honor of this big milestone for me, I am doing a poll, aimed mostly towards Oscar Isaac characters.

I leave this up for a week. In the meantime, feel free to ask whatever you want! :)

Below are some friendos who gave me a nice time here!!! <3

@nekoyin @steven-grants-world @iolaussharpe-24 @miss-canon-event @basicalyrandom @lunaana-02 @pygmi-cygni @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @faretheeoscar @curlyfriesfaith @quuave @cosmolog @sassycandypoetry @cameronthecryptid @chaithetics @krakenkitty @rosegnome @nanadaw @klillaah @appeltaartglitter @minigirl87 @tokkiwrites @yeanika @strangererotica @curlycow01 @theaterm @moonknightly @bunnies4steven @fifithefish @mooksmouse @bambistillinthewoods @megangovier @spacebunsworld @sugarplumz100 @sageisgod @needyyandere

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #star wars #poe dameron #blue jones #santiago pope garcia #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #poll #followers

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astronicht · 1 day ago

Note

I’m anon who requested 2 and anything f1 works but maxiel if I had to choose!!!

2. running fingers through hair

(thank you everyone who prompted, these have been really helpful 2 me the past few days!!) Cited sources: i pulled some specific characterization beats from @garage-gremlin 's incredible fic over here (specifically, what max reports yuki said to him). There's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it reference to casual yuki/max, and also i guess some max/daniel feminization going on in here.

They are on the yacht, because Max thought it would be good to remind Daniel that he still has many good things. Like Max’s yacht.

It is unfortunately a little chilly, but even off Monaco that is what January will get you. If Daniel had not spent so long running around America, they could have gone earlier. But it was fine: Max was racing, and Daniel likes America and his friends there. He did not want to bring them on Max’s yacht, even though Max asked.

“We should go to Palermo,” Daniel says from the deck chair next to Max. The hum of the engines had almost sent Max to sleep, even with the cool air across his face. His jacket is practically thermal. He put Daniel in a matching one, and belowdecks the heat is turned all the way up. The hardwood floors are heated from beneath, like they are at Geri’s house. It’s all very nice.

“Palermo?” says Max. “Will you speak Italian then, Daniel?”

“I want fried food,” Daniel says, sidestepping the Italian. Max is convinced Daniel understands more Italian and French than he lets on, but that’s not hard because he mostly pretends he doesn’t understand any. He gives people very blank looks sometimes, in shops and things, when they approach him. It is a little funny.

“We can go to Palermo,” Max says easily. “If you want to be gone for two or three days.”

Getting a spot to dock at Palermo is pretty much impossible, but that can be taken care of.

“Maybe,” says Daniel. About as expected, Max thinks.

When Max had tracked down the third new number Daniel had gotten in three months and texted to politely ask if Daniel wanted to come out on the yacht (asking doesn’t actually work with Daniel — he’d texted “You should come on the yacht with me. 24th.”) Daniel had replied with “lol I’ll jump into the sea 🏊‍♂️🏊‍♂️🏊‍♂️” and then showed up at 6AM the morning of the 24th.

Daniel being a little moody about Palermo is nothing, really. A little pleasant, in fact.

“Did you know,” Max says to the deck chair next to him, “That Yuki says when I cover my face I look like a girl?”

Daniel, presumably hitting pause on thinking of jumping into the sea, rolls over in his deck chair to face Max.

“What?” he says.

“When I am surprised, you know,” Max says, and models it: two hands over the lower half of his face.

Daniel mostly looks confused. And a little like he darkly suspects what happened after Yuki said this— but whatever, Max is not the one who was in America all this time, doing who knows what.

There is a pause.

“You used to let me be the girl,” Max says, to the gusting wind over the Mediterranean. The sea around them is like blue velvet, choppy but soft.

Daniel’s face is finally blank and focused. He mouths ‘let me’ to himself.

Max rolls onto his side to face Daniel as well. This is not enough. He stands up, looking down at Daniel on the deck chair.

No need to tower. He sits on Daniel’s deck chair, his jacket whispering. He reaches out and tucks a few of Daniel’s curls a little more securely under his hat, because they are dancing into his eyes in the wind. He tucks Daniel’s hair behind his ear. Daniel’s hand comes up loosely around Max’s wrist. His mouth is parted.

“If you want to be the girl, you must of course just ask,” Max says.

Daniel’s throat works. His Adam’s apple bobs.

Max says, “The girl can still fuck me,” and laughs, because it sounds funny to say.

“Oh,” breathes Daniel, like this is what unlocked something.

Max takes Daniel’s hand from around Max’s wrist and kisses the knuckles.

“Ah, Daniel,” he says. “You are cold again.”

#anon ask replies #max/daniel #maxiel #my fic

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thefusioncelestial · 2 days ago

Text

Mix 3: One Path, One Us.

Look at me:

You would think I am some teenager still in high school. I am 22, about to graduate university. I am old enough to drink, but I get carded every time. Can't do adult stuff without second looks. Girls won't date me because they think I am a kid, and no one understandably wants to risk that. The short stature & lack of facial or body hair doesn't work either. Puberty is finishing up soon if not already. Constantly going to the gym just kept me cut. What am I going to do? Am I going to be stuck like this like those baby faced actors like Tom Holland?

"Bro, you okay?" A voice loudly echoed. It was my best friend Jason. He was in a similar boat as me but as least he was tall. I am 5'5 and him 6'3. If only I could snatch that from him. A tall baby faced actor who stayed in shape would do gang busters in Hollywood.

"Diego, SNAP OUT OF IT". he boomed. Luckily the dorms were mostly empty during the day, so he alerted no one but me. I quickly rise out of my mental funk. Why did I get into such a negative Nancy mood? Oh yeah, because Jason said he had a solution, like he did every month since the moment we stepped into university. We grew up together, same neighborhood, born in the same year 3 months apart. Our fathers thought we were dating at some point, but were just close like blood brothers. So what is his hair brained idea this time? I hope he isn't going to suggest steroids or something he cooked up in chemistry. He's a top student among the chemistry department, but he decided to not pair that up with a human body science like major like Sports Medicine or Pre Med.

"Sorry, so what is failed solution #2312?", I quipped sarcastically.

He frowned at me and then rolled his eyes. He whispered to himself after turning around, "It will be forever if it works, hopefully whatever we become will be a more positive person."

"Stop talking to yourself, how your butter face ass has a better dating life than me is beyond reason."

"It's called confidence & a positive attitude. But before this day is over, you will see my side of things...and I yours."

He went to a small brown box on a dresser and pulled out an bead necklace. "We put this on & let the magic work. If this works, we will be reborn...literally as one."

I was dumbfounded, his answer was a magic item he probably found on clearance at some costume shop? The suggestion of magic from a chemist. Chemistry was born from Alchemy by removing the superstitious & supernatural elements from the field. Now here is one Chemist suggesting going back to magic. Where is he hiding the chemicals, because I am sure he is pulling my chain.

"Are you high?"

"What! No!"

"You are suggesting we rely on something with no concrete evidence, like magic, for its existence for our solutions. You know what, explain and I might go with your voodoo."

"Its not African magic, it's German, call it Zauberei or Greek so maybe Mageía." He said in an upbeat but serious tone.

"I'll call it The Hot Nuts of Alabama if it works. Again, explain."

He pulled out an old brown leather book from within the drawer where the same box was resting on. He turned and walked towards me and gave it to me.

"What is this?," I asked.

"Evidence of what I am going to say, future Nuclear Physicist. Yeah I know the truth, you got an offer from NASA. Guess what, so did I. We are stuck together for life, lets make that for real."

Whatever, I thought, we grow old together nothing new. Though if his offer was like mine, he will have to stay for grad school. They want mastery, not just knowledge, of the subject.

"Go on."

"You know how Royal families around the world tend to inbreed? Cousins to cousins, neice to Uncle, ect.?"

"Yeah."

"Well for all tense & purposes, they should have died out, like the Spanish Haspburgs did. But suddenly, they are everywhere now. Clean mostly of genetic disease, and looking run way ready in some cases. Their solution was fusion."

"Was what?"

"They merged with others. Assimilate a few unknown servants or knights that history didn't record & they slowly repaired themselves."

"So they gobbled other people up and kept it in the family still."

"Yep, in some cases they were incredulous about it like you and refused the procedure. The Spanish Hasburgs said no because they feared it was devilry, the British were mixed, they got back on board after Queen Victoria's generation."

"Where did this "procedure originate from?"

"Greece. Look up the story of Hermaphroditus afterwards if this fails. Pretty boy like us merged with a Naiad named Salmacis. They merged in a pool of water, and that pool became a fountain, reportedly still had the power to merge things. At first they just mixed animals for sport, but soon generals & politicians were merging to create someone more effective. Once Rome conquered Greece, you start to see an uptick in "warrior poets" and military generals who can talk their way out of an 5 v 1."

"What, we got to go to Greece and bath together? Wait, you want to merge with me?," I asked in confusion.

"Yes, and no. Well Yes, I want to merge, and no we do not need to go to Greece, but if we merge, we can go take a trip down there as thanks."

I am dumbfounded at what I am hearing. I open the book and see an listing of royals & nobles who merged with others or proposed mergers that never came to be. I go to the Tudor England section and see that Henry VIII was going to assimilate Charles Brandon, but that failed after Brandon secretly married his sister Mary. There were a host of knights who lined up afterwards, but he never settled on a choice.

I see a section for France, Charles the Mad went mad after doing the procedure with the court fool. There was a slew of witch hunts after that in France. Not tried again until Louis XIV, who used it to extend his lifespan.

"There is one problem."

"What?"

"These mergers were one sided. One person stole traits from the other and walked the earth as themselves. Are you trying to gobble me up?"

"No.

"Admit it, you want my beautiful face."

"And you want my height. "

We both burst out in laughter. Will this work? Am I going mad? He is rich enough to commission a work like this after all.

"So what happened to the magic water?"

"After the fall of Western Rome, the water was drained and placed somehow into these stones and turned into jewelry, hidden beneath the armor & clothing of Europe's elite. Initially, it was used to create stronger leaders. A few rounds of warriors & wise men fusing, and you got a charismatic leader who starts a royal line or two. Many many generations later, its used to fix fertility problems. and then later genetic diseases. It's a factor in how hemophilia has disappeared in the European royal circles."

"Wait, are you royalty? Am I about to get a royal upgrade?

"No."

"No?"

"No."

I frown. "How did you get your hands on this?"

"The spoils of war, WW2 in particular. My grandfather served in the war and found the contents in an German castle. Germany was once so many kingdoms, so I guess there was a high chance of finding one. The only pair found, my guess is that the nobility there had a bad hiding spot. Then again, grandpop was good at finding shit. That is how we got rich: finding gold in exhausted mines, discovering treasure hoards and getting paid by governments to shut up about it."

"Is this what he gave to you as your inheritance after he died?"

"Part of it, if this works, yours is mine and mine is yours. Our merger will be mutual. A true blending. When this is over, a new being will be born. Either this ages us up or form a new babyface."

This was a lot to take in. I closed the book & sat down in an chair near the door. He went outside to the dorm balcony. He stared at the sky, took a deep breath and nodded. He took off his shirt. And turned to me after putting on the necklace.

He smiled, I forgot he still had braces.

"Bro, you still need mouth work?"

He pulled them off. It was a set of fake dentures.

"There's a the jester I know."

He was cut but lanky. My arms were bigger than his while his were longer.

It's like we are two halfs of a whole. Where he falters, I succeed. Vice versa.

"Its either we do this, or I go gobble up Tim."

I got up and walked towards him. "That meathead?"

"Tell me I wouldn't look like a men's health model after taking him in."

"You would be dumber." I was a few inches away from him. He blushes. I take the necklace and stretch it around my head and pull it down to me neck. It's very tight now, like egging us to move closer. I do. I start to float, my chest lining up to his and then pressing up against each other. I blush as well and we both are aroused.

"Ha...."

"if this is a marriage proposal, I say yes. If we are walking the same direction, lets do it officially." We kiss.

As our bodies are mushed together we take our arms and embrace each other. The necklace hums and disappears into our necks. It has begun.

We press harder against each other. My shirt phased through him and came out the other end. The same happened with the pants & underwear. Despite being made of denim, the jeans were able to stretch out and accommodate us both. ~Magic~

We were both naked inside this Frankenstein cocoon of our clothing. We were naked and pressed up against each other. And then it happened.

Where our skin was touching, they just simply gave way and merged and then stretched. This exposed our bloody insides to each other. And as our blood, flesh, and muscles touched, they broke down into a liquid slurry. The sounds started as moans, somehow being broken down to our basic materials & being unraveled felt so good. Those moans turned into wet rattles once our necks touched and went through the same process. Our bones broke down as well & if you had ex-ray vision, it look like a grey slurry. Then that slurry of skeletal matter moved towards the skin & turned our fused skin into an hardened vaguely human shaped cocoon made of skin wrapped in stretched clothing. It didn't matter what it was, brain, eyes, lungs, it was soon goop.

The moment our brains gooped, they swirl around and within each other. This meant that the first aspect of this new person being created was their mind. For Diego & Jason it was like entering a wild lsd trip, and when it was done, someone else would emerge. From their perspective, memories & personality traits were being taken and smashed together like two movie scenes being placed on top of each other, somehow blending perfectly to create new ones. For the personality, it was less of a mix and more of a battle for dominance. Some of Diego's aspects won, while some of Jason's did instead. There were some cases of traits just mixing but it was more of an either or. But by the end the process stopped, and this new self was born.

At the same time their dna mixed & merged. The result was a new traditional helix structure that was built using parts from Diego's & Jason's dna. At this point, there was no going back as the unused parts were broken down as energy, that life spark that would jump start this new person's existence.

With the new genetic instructions, their combined mass began to consolidate. The nervous system was already built and the skeletal system formed almost immediately afterward. The boney shell broke down and gave its contents to build it.

With the bone shell gone and no longer absorbing sound & impeding movement, you could hear the humanoid shaped bloated mass pulsate and almost shake a little.

The broke down organs reformed and moved into place, and the blood that was free floating began to enter the newly formed veins and do their tireless work. And second to last, the muscular system began to take shape almost at the same as the vascular system.

While this was going on, the fused skin started to shrink, with another fire from the newly minted dna, the muscle arranged themselves to their proper place and the skin backed up the placements through tightening.

And while the muscles & and skin were doing their jobs, the new being began to moan. It had no facial features yet, but sound was coming out where the mouth will be. Its arms were stretched at an 45 degree angle, and once the fingers formed, you can see it move its fingers randomly at different speeds as it tried to process the pleasures being felt from its creation, but give way to the sensations. It was a combination of moans and ahs.

These jolts of pleasure also activated it's reproductive organs. Diego had the longer member, while Jason was girthy. But this new being would enjoy both traits. Long & Thick. The skin tightening around that area made it moan even loader, a veiled threat that it would lose its mind with the new sensations. But it didn't.

Its body shape formed and its internals done, there were two more steps to go.

From front it had Diego's skin color, while the back half had Jason's. As if conceding to Diego, the Diego's skin complexion took over. And it was similar with the face. It started off with Diego's facial features, but used Jason's to refine them. Jason felt that Diego was more handsome, and so this reflected on a genetic level. Diego's hair color also took over, but Jason's traits gave them more volume. Diego had a near constant dark bags under his eyes. But that was gone for this being.

Looking at this new being, one would say that Diego gobbled up Jason. But that was not so. Essentially, what they admired in each other, the new being expressed it. There was no hiding things from each other now. They are each other.

The clothing snapped back into place. It had a white shirt & denim jeans, but it would have been a mixture had Jason decided to have something on beyond two layers of underwear.

With its newly formed mouth, this being let out a deep exhale and low sound that indicated that it had calmed down from all the moaning which indicated that the process was over.

It opened its eyes, the pupils shape and size where more from Jason. It didn't care, Jason is the past. These are his eyes. Who was he?

"I am Diego, no Jason, no..."

It walked back into the dorm. There was a large, human sized mirror. About 7 ft. He stood in front of it. He was 6'5 now.

"Christian, I am Christian now."

Diego + Jason = Christian.

Christian lifted up his shirt, place them behind his neck.and checked out his features.

He had Jason's abdominal insertions & shape. His chest too. These nips definitely came from him. His arms & shoulders were bigger than both Diego's & Jason's. Years of gym workouts finally showing up. He unbuttoned his pants to let his family rod breathe, it would shrink down over time, Christian was of the grower variety, he can access its full potential in the future when needed. The neck was a mixture, Diego's thickness with Jason's length. He had Diego's nose. The biggest change was the eyes, he had Jason's but darker and curvier. The ears were a combination of both. He looked older, mature, and yet had perfect skin. They achieved their goals. They merged into a someone who looked like a fully grown man.

More of his new memories flooded in. He was not a purely a chemist or a physicist, he double majored in Materials Science & Chemical Engineering. He had a choice departments at NASA. And soon, he'll have a house full of kids, once he finds the right one. But first the internship at NASA & grad school.

With a new sense of belonging & togetherness, the two best friends continued their life journey, together as one, forever.

Oh, wait, the necklace. Christian grasped at his neck and looked around. It was sitting on his bed. Hmm, I can make a fortune using this. This university is about to see an uptick in nerdy jocks. He thought to himself.

He knows the perfect pair. Shun & Tim. But first that trip the Greece, and then the work of bridging worlds begins. For a select few who can afford it or give me a good enough reason.

#male merge #body merging #merging tf #male fusion #fusion #thefusioncelestial #male body transformation #male transformation #merge #musclegrowth #muscle #muscular

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katerinaaqu · 3 days ago

Note

I have already mentioned the chnges to my initial reblog. Literally the most iconic parts are changed, Circe, Sirens, Charybdis Skylla Phaeakes etc. I have analyzed those in my original comment to this streak: Lotus Eaters are not a tribe of friendly people are some sort of creature, Polyphemus doesn't eat them and mock the laws of Xenia, apparently he has a reason or excuse to do what he does, Odysseus doesn't reveal his name because he was seccluded in a cave and he as not only exhausted and furious after watching the cyclops eat his men one by one and feel proud for his achievement, in Epic he reveals it out of spite because Athena triggers him (he had no Athena with him in the Odyssey). He doesn't stay a month in Aeolia, he doesnt stay a year with Circe. He doesn't need to sell himself to Circe apparently a tear jerking story was enough (Hermes tells him he has no chance of refusing her bed and Circe didn't need to seduce him to kill him in the Odyssey she was a complicated persona). He doesn't get a single piece of information from Tiresias on how to move and how to break his curse, he doesn;t speak to the spirits of the underworld including his mother who tels him that she didn't die WHILE waiting but she died BECAUSE she was waiting for him and there is a difference) Odysseus doesn't hear the sirens. In the Odyssey we have literally the most iconic scene ever where he ties himself on the mast and hears their song and his men row for dear life till they get out of there in Epic for some reason we have had whatever that scene was where they kill them. In Epic he doesn't gear up to protect his men from Skylla, he sends them to death himself. In the Odyssey he clearly tries to protect them. His men don't spend weeks in hunger to slaughter the cattle of Helios, their doeath doesnt come as a hubris result but again Zeus written like a jerk again that makes Odysseus choose. Odysseus didn't escape Charybdis hanging from the fig tree for dear life BEFORE Ogygia and of course whatever the hell we ot to the last saga. Telemachus was treated equally poorly. Telemachus in the Odyssey had no problem fighting. His problem was that the suitors were abusing the laws of Xenia and he couldn't send them away. Athena doesnt make him do some fist fight she encourages him to travel and find information on his father and of course God Games is just nope. No god had problem letting Odysseus go and Zeus least of all. In fact he mentions how fond he is of Odysseus and that he couldn't help him because his hands were tied so far due to his hubris against Poseidon.

-Ah here we go again! The classic I get all the time! When I say I dislike this or that trope then I get the question "so you are against retellings?" literally the question "you dislike abstract art? You must be against modern art in general!" that is literally not how it works! I dislike the specific type of "retellings" that use nothing of the original material or that they screw it over. And on occasion like or dislike comes to what vibes with you. No you absolutely didn't get that right no. In fact I have seen many beautiful retellings and one of them was like 90% accurate to the Odyssey and it was a masterpiece. Prince Of Egypt is a classical example. It is a loose adaptation, doesn't follow the bible to the T and yet it respects the story and the culture and didn't make Moses...slaughter the men of the Pharaoh himself or whatever! The iconic scene of the parting of the sea was respected. I myself am literally writing retellings. My style though is mostly following the sources or combining them.

-That is very nice of you and I hope it helps but yes using material such as this as substitute to studies is just stupid indeed.

-Ella the Enchanted is a classical example on how one can create an original story while based on a tale. Even if the character is even nsinuating the name of Cinderella is still not the same story! Just like Brother Where Art Thou is an original story heavily inspired by the Odyssey but is not Odyssey. Also omitting cruel details to make a story kid-friendly is differentthan changing the most crucial part of the plot. What Epic did with the Sirens for example is the equivalent of..dunno making Cinderell lose her other shoe too and make her wear a hat instead! Like taking an iconic moment from a story and turn it to something else. Humans do love to see that sure. But not all do. Like I said I love for example the classical movie "The King and I" or what was the name. Thaiwan people hated it. It is a matter of perspective. I cannot blame them for not liking the movie!

Oh yes it crossed the line waaaay too long ago.

-I agree. That is the reason it is so popular indeed. What I mean is that more often whatnot this exploitation made the stories unrecognizable and they completely disregard what they were about at times.

-Again...exactly but what we got is not a retelling! What we got was an original story without original characters! Which is not what a retelling is! A retelling doesn;t go "screw your plot" it takes creative liberties that do not harm the story otherwirse is not a retelling it is simply notthe same story Again....I didn't say that he NEEDED to respect 100% I said he had no reason to pic this if he was going to screw the plot. And again I honestly don't care what the thought is in this case like I said I am personally disappointed a lot with how Odyssey is treated. Or how the word "retelling" is understood for that matter. And again I didn't like the result. I beieve that is valid for me to say And again that is my probem that I see disporportionately these type of "adaptations" over actual respective adaptation to material and AGAIN I didn;t say he has no right to do what he did. He absolutely does. I am only explaining why I dislike it

-AGAIN That is my problem! Because is not how the story was! Again I think his trip would have served much more the video game logic! Whatever we got there was a brush off and completely rushed piece to me. And Teemachus was not wondering about his father that he wanted to be legendary like him. The kid was even wondering if Odysseus was really his father at that point! Totally different feeling totally different objective. And that is my problem with the word retelling nowadays. Retelling means "i tell the same story in my own words" not "i have other plans than to follow the key parts of the plot"

And to answer to your other note as well because I got a bit disoriented getting bombarded with separate parts of reblogs;

-Exacty. He could have named his character literally anything he wanted and make an original story and still reference to the Odyssey. At least that would make more sense in my brain.

Absoltey not. I would argue that is less than 50% at this point. And no technically it is called "Disney's Cinderella" to assume they are not retelling the Brother Grimm version and Brother Grimm is also only one of the versions. Arguably the original cincerella is a story coming from Hellenistic Egypt. But again ironically Cinderella was much more accurate to the OG material and they did not change the most iconic parts like the pumpkin careiage the midnight trick and the slipper fit despite the liberties they got the same as I said with Prince of Egypt and the bible. And I will ay it one more time; likes and dislikes often have to do with what vibes to me. Most Disney movies vibed to me one way or another (and I still speak on the things they did right and what they do wrong in comparison to their OG material). Epic didn't

If it is just a matter of expectations to you then that is valid. To me is not that simple and again if I see something that is p to mess such an iconic thing like the Odyssey, especially something so beloved to me, I have to believe that the changes are generic to the story and that they give me the twist without harming the story or that the story is altered in such a way that is vibing to me in general. That absolutely didn't happen in the Epic case

I'll take your word for that. Not fond of the remakes of the films much

Absolutely and I said that from the very beginning. I was clearly talking to people that share similar ideas with me and we discuss our opinions. It always would end up to the "agree to disagree" thing. But yes to that last part we absolutely agree and even loyal fans of the musical iked out to that.

New Epic saga and it's horrible... to give you an idea, Odysseus fought Poseidon, stole his trident and made him beg for mercy

hmmm a god begging a mortal for mercy is not exactly on par with Greek religion and stories. How did that scene made it into the final version?

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