#character: guardian of the storm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shygirl4991 · 15 days ago

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All art belongs to @lizaluvsthis Thought i try my hand with a different ship enjoy! Ships: SMG34, Marware Next Part Tags: First love, enemies to friends to lovers, one sided crush, humor, fluff

Summary: Mr Puzzle comes up with the perfect plan to finally be popular, but when his plan involves his nemesis. Everything gets covered in static as the TV man gets blinded by a strange emotion, with payback on his mind operation Pedro begins.

It was weeks after the events of the meme factory, Mr Puzzles stood outside cigarette in hand. Even though he couldn't taste it, just the feeling of the action helped the man think. He sighs as he thinks over the events, not only did he lose his first ever ally thanks to that annoying plumber. That very same plumber now haunts his every waking thought, the way his blue eyes shined when he arrived on the scene. The way the man’s mustache flowed in the wind as he turned to hand Leggy the mushroom, it all played out as if the whole thing was a movie. The picture of Mario causes Mr Puzzles screen to show a blushing expression as his antenna’s start to spark, frustrated by the strange emotion he gets an ashtray turning off his cigarette and storming inside the studio.

As he storms into his studio he is greeted by the movie posters of his past failures, while it hurts to see the puzzlevision posters it was a good reminder. He could be a star, nothing will stop him from getting those five stars back. The moment his eyes laid on Mario, the spark came back causing the TV man to look away. They must have done something to him during the event of his plan to take over the meme factory, that was the only explanation as to what was going on with him. He walks to the back of the studio and sits on the floor, he needs to find a way to fix himself. An image of a lightbulb appeared on his screen, Mario was the trigger meaning that whatever is wrong with him has to do with that plumber. He makes a plan to spy on the crew in the morning, the only way he can learn what they did is to gather information. He makes a mental note of all the items he needs before he shuts down and goes to sleep in the tv realm. The next day, SMG4 was pounding on the coffee and bomb cafe doors. Three slowly walks to the door with coffee in hand to open the door, Four held back giggling at his ex rival bed hair “Three! We are about to shoot a new video, I was hoping you want to be one of the main characters this time around?” SMG3 sighs, taking the script from Four’s hand then setting his coffee down, he takes out his reading glasses and goes over the script. As he reads the script Four gives him a sweet smile, with a sigh he tosses the script at Four’s face “Yeah how about no, being with the others fighting a Wario ghost head doesn't sound like my style.”

Four glares at Three as he bends down to grab the script “Come on, plenty of viewers would love to see you interact more with our other friends!” Three blushes seeing the puppy eyes the man was giving him, he quickly grabs his cup of coffee and sips it. Once he felt more in control of his emotions he rolled his eyes at Four then crossed his arms, seeing this was enough for Four to know the man wasn't going to change his mind. Four sighs as he turns and walks away “Alright, but I will be back later for my coffee!” Three lets out a small smile as he watches Four walk away “You still have to pay for it!” As Four kept walking to get ready a nearby bush was shaking, there Mr puzzle was spying on the guardians. He watches as SMG4 packed his equipment ready to go hunting for the memes they needed for the video, with binoculars in hand he looks around for his main target. “Wahoo!” Mario jumps out of a pipe that spawn out of nowhere landing in front of SMG4, Mr Puzzle felt his mechanical heart speed up at the sight of his target. He takes out his notepad ready to take notes, he watches as Four and Mario walk out of the showgrounds. He slowly follows the pair making sure he doesn't miss a second, Ignoring the strange emotion surging through him.

Hours passed, Mr Puzzle had learned nothing about the idiot that plagues his every thought. Even worse, he had to watch people fawn over SMG4 asking for his autograph and talk about how amazing his series is. He had snapped several pencils over the hours of watching the sight, that should be him not SMG4. He notes down to make sure to get rid of Four once he is done dealing with the plumber, he sighs as he looks over at Mario. The goofy smile the man had caused his antenna to spark, noticing that he hides behind a tree. His screen showed how flustered he felt, even back when he was in his old body he had never felt such powerful emotion. Whatever illness the SMG4 crew gave him was truly powerful, he slid down the tree annoyed by the events.

Looking at the notepad he sighs flipping through his notes, he pauses on a page with five stars drawn on it. He got to taste fame, taste the power that came with it. Getting up with a new found fire, he steps away from the tree ready to continue his mission. He watches as the men fail to find the meme they were looking for, they say their goodbyes and separate. Mr puzzles lets out a chuckle “Finally, thought those two imbeciles would be stuck together all night. Now lets see what this idiot is planning,” He peeks out of the bush to see Mario spinning around. As he spins Mr Puzzle notices the mustache was changing shapes and sizes, he gasps when Mario grabs his stache using it as a boomerang to distract Luigi in order to grab the man's plate of pasta. Thinking back on everything he has seen, the mustache always did have a mind of its own, he starts to write down in his notepad “Mario’s mustache equal funny?” Peeking out of the bush again, his eyes meet with Marios causing the TV man to glitch out. He hides back in the bush as his face goes static, he smacks his head hoping it would help out. Slowly his face returned, placing a hand on his chest he felt his heart about to explode. Taking a deep breath he looks at his notepad, if his theory is correct then perhaps Mr Puzzle can get his payback. He chuckles to himself as he waits till the twins are asleep, he slowly sneaks into the house and walks into the bedroom. He lowers the brightness of his screen as he looks at the bed, he reaches out pulling a mustache. He looks close to notice he got the wrong one, he clumsily places it back as he goes to the bed on top. He pulls the mustache off and lets out a soft chuckle “Thank you Dear with this i have my chance to be on top~”

He pockets the mustache then looks at the plumber's sleeping face, his screen flickers as he blushes. He will have his payback for whatever illness this man put on him, he gets off the bed leaving the house to start his plan. Once he makes it back to the studio, he picks up the phone calling an old ally as he stares at the mustache. “What do you want?” said the womens voice on the other line “Ah Liko! My favorite mad scientist, I have a favor I want to cash in.” He heard the women let out a bitter laugh as he heard the bed creak “A favor huh? What are you planning this time?” Mr puzzle places the stache carefully on the table “I want to create a star for my new show!”

Liko sighs “Create a star? Life isn't something you can just casually make, could you imagine creating a cast for your silly parody shows?” Mr Puzzle lets out a chuckle as he looks out the window “Nothing like that i assure you, i learn how SMG4 is getting comedy gold. I have stolen it and need a body to put it on, you're the only person i know with that skill set.” He taps his head with a fond smile, he hears a groan from the other line “You were a lucky case, but knowing you I know you won't let me be until i help you.” She hangs up the phone leaving the TV man alone with his thoughts, with her help he can create a star that will surely give him the fame he craves. He turns and stares at the mustache, he felt strange as he looked at it. As if the TV man was feeling guilty for stealing the plumber's mustache, he groans as he turns around seeing car lights.

Excited seeing the familiar vehicle he walks up to the door, he fixes up his appearance and opens the door to his favorite manananggal. Liko rolls her eyes as she passes by him, Mr Puzzle chuckles as he follows “With that look I'm guessing I got in the middle of you and the lucky lady you found?” Liko turns glaring at him “You can just call her Flor, I swear i dont get why you two hate each other,” Mr Puzzle gives the creature an annoyed expression “Honey, that girlfriend of yours make sure to haunt me every chance she gets.” Liko giggles at the memory before stepping into the living area of the studio, she then notices a mustache on the table. She stares at it blankly before Mr Puzzle picks it up and starts to brush it, she takes a step back before pointing at it “You mean that is what you plan to put on a body?” He nods before gently placing it on the table again “This beauty came from the funny man himself Mario, with all the power of his comedy on my side there is no way i wont get five stars!” Liko shakes her head in disbelief before walking over to the studio’s back room, she pulls out a bag filled with an assortment of ingredients “This plan is as insane as you asking me to give you a television head.” Mr Puzzle smiles as he gently touches his head “And you did a wonderful job, happy to have you as a work partner!” Liko lets out another sigh, she can feel herself already drain just from dealing with the man. She was free to walk away, no like the man could force her to do this. Yet as she looks at the excited expression on the screen of his face, she couldn't help letting out a soft smile. It didn't matter what the man said, she always felt that the two of them had a nice friendship even if he pushes the business agenda whenever they are together.

Mr Puzzle sits on a chair glaring at the mustache, for a moment Liko saw his screen glitch out. She stares at him for a moment as he stares at the mustache, interested in what was going on she drops the bag next to him “Here.” Confused, he looked away from the mustache and turned to Liko “What do you mean here?” She crosses her arms as she gently kicks the bag, he looks down at the bag then at her “You can't possibly mean that you want me to make it!” She nods as she walks over to a metal table in the room, he picks up the bag following her steps “You're a big boy you can do it, plus i have a date soon. I can't have you always interrupting my date just to make you things!” He lets out a dramatic sigh that makes Liko roll her eyes “After all this time you're finally moving on from our business relationship!” Liko gently smacks his back “Yep, now you want me to explain what to do or you get enjoyment from staring at Mario’s mustache?” Mr Puzzle's screen glitches again showing the man blushing for a moment, her eyes go wide for a moment as his antennae sparks up. He starts taking things out of the bag then turns to her back to normal waiting for instructions “Fine, tell me what has to be done.” She has never seen the man act so out of character it fascinated her. Taking out her notepad, she wrote down what needed to be done “Here you go, now do you have an idea how you want the form to look?”

Taking out a pen he smiles as he doodles out what he wants his creation to look like, once done he proudly shows off the drawing. She blinks as the drawing looks like a child's drawing of Mario, she makes a note to herself about the odd obsession that the man seems to have on the plumber. Giving a thumb’s up she starts heading to the front door, he watches as she opens the door “Follow what i wrote down, don't blow up.” With that she leaves the man alone in his studio, he grabs the items and nods to himself as he begins creating.

Mario woke up to a nightmare, his mustache is missing, he runs around searching everywhere he could think of for his missing piece. As he walks into the city he notices people turning and looking at him, some running in fear while others turn to dust at the site. While the man felt naked without his mustache, seeing others' reactions to his new look made him smile “Heyyy people seem excited about this new look!” Feeling confident of his new look he walks forward not as panicked as before, there he sees Bob’s burger stand. Excited to get more food he runs over ordering “Nine million burgers please!” Bob turns to see Mario and jumps back in shock mix with disgust “EW A WALKING FETUS! Sorry bud, these are eighteen plus burgers because they have uh…a lethal amount of alcohol!” Angered at being rejected for getting food, Mario gets ready to fight. As he charged at Bob something started to feel strange, he lost control of his body and landed face first to the floor. Confused he attempted to do his usual meme shenanigans, he looked at his body confused “Hey! Why can't Mario do the funny?” Bob looked over the counter confused at what was going on with the man in front of him, frustrated Mario attempted to try different memes only for it to end in failure. His eyes water as he realized he was unable to be funny, his phone starts to ring breaking him from his thoughts. Seeing who it was from reminded him of the plans he made with SMG4, he runs over to his brothers old mansion where their crew are recording new videos.

As Mario enters the building Four runs up to him to get things ready, he pauses as he stares at Mario. Slowly he leans forward looking at Mario’s face “ Uh…did you get a haircut?” Shaking his head, SMG4 pushes Mario to the center of the room with the others “Doesn't matter, let's get to filming!” As Four grabs the camera ready to record Meggy gives the plumber a weird look “Hey is your-” the ground starts to shake, cutting Meggy off as a giant Wario ghost head appears. The head roars as Mario gets ready to fight it, he jumps up ready to pull out an item to fight with only to get an error. He looks at the error in shock “MAMA MIA!” he kept taking things out of his pockets only for more errors to appear. SMG4 looked at his best friend confused, seeing the others in the group give Four a look. Four lets out a nervous laugh “hehe uh mario do the funny now please!”

The Wario ghost sighs, disappointed at how unprofessional everyone was “That's it i quit!” Panicked SMG4 runs to where the ghost vanishes to “WAIT OUR SHOW IS MORE STUPID I SWEAR!” With a sigh he turns to Mario giving the man another look, this was the first time he has ever seen the avatar struggle with being funny. Four reaches out for his best friend only to pause when the door opens, the pair blink seeing a person walk in looking similar to Mario. The man starts to meme out catching the ghost head's attention only to get knocked out by the mysterious person, once the person landed they both gasped seeing the person’s face. Four looks at Mario’s face then the man only for it to click, Mario points at the man extremely angry “YOU TOOK MARIO MUSTACHE!” The fake Mario floats up clipping through the roof leaving the pair shocked before Four jumps into action “Don't worry Mario, we know all of your shenanigans. We will get your mustache back!” They run out of the mansion hunting down the mysterious man, Four takes out his phone texting the first person that comes to mind “SMG3 we need your help it's an avatar emergency.” Following the chaos, Four sees an opening and tackles down the man holding him down for Mario. The plumber cheers as he runs to take the mustache back, seeing what was going to happen the man starts to meme out. Mario growls as he attempts to grab it quickly, Four bites his lip seeing the funny movement. His guardian powers screaming to record the moment, he fought as hard as he could holding his own hand back to reach out for the phone. The man starts to do a dance breaking Four, he takes out his phone recording the dance. Four’s eyes shrink when he realizes what he did as the man ran off again, he frowns looking down as Mario glares at Four.

Three sighs seeing the mess and walks up to them “So this is what the emergency is? How the hell did someone steal Mario's mustache?” Four shakes his head as he looks down the road where the man disappeared to “That's a good question, Mario do you have any idea how this happened?” Mario was going to answer until he noticed an angry mob behind SMG4, Three’s eyes went wide as he slowly grabbed his partner's hand and pulled him close. The mob points at Mario “THERE HE IS GET HIM!” the group jumps on Mario beating him up, the guardians exchange a look before attempting to pull people off of the plumber. Once the crowd was gone, Mario sighs laying on the floor “It's no use…he’s just like me…” Four frowns sitting next to Mario and comforting him. Three lets out a small smile watching Four before he blushes and looks away, after a moment of silence something clicked for SMG4.

He gets up excited as he grabs Three pulling the man close, Three’s heart races at how close their face was. “If he is just like Mario then that must mean they share the same weakness!” Three smirks once he understood what Four is saying “Looks like it's time to get cooking.” As Four gets himself ready to make spaghetti, Three lifts up Mario “Come on, we will get that mustache back and show that bastard what happens when he messes with us!” Three opens a portal to help Four reach the castle faster, the pair sit outside of a shop waiting for the signal to bring the man back. Mario touches his face frowning “Will I ever get the funny back?” Three rolls his eyes as he gently smacks Mario’s arm “Stop being such a baby right now! I got a bomb cooking and ready for this guy, you will get your mustache back. Mario gives a soft smile to Three before pulling him into a hug, Three blushes and struggles before melting into the hug. His phone ding causes him to push Mario off him, he snaps his fingers where Four shows off a plate of spaghetti “Let's catch us an imposter!” They walk down a street with multiple houses, seeing an empty area the trio run over to set the trap. Four set the plate down with a smile, the smile didn't last long as Three started to put a bear trap in front of the plate. SMG4 glares at him while Three lets out a chuckle “Think about it, that bastard can't run from us if his foot is stuck.” Four looks at the set up, he hates to admit that SMG3 had a point given how weak he is to his urge to record memes. They hide and wait for the trap to be sprung, as they wait they hear meme talk from a distance. Peeking around the corner they see the target skipping around, he pauses as he sees the plate of pasta. Mr Puzzle mumbles to himself as he walks around the neighborhood “Where on earth did my creation go!” he was getting frustrated after hours of searching till he heard a scream. He turns as his screen flickers, showing a surprise expression before running over to the spot. There he saw Mario charging at his creation, he reached out grabbing the man and pulling him away from the plumber.

Mario turns his head confused, making eye contact with someone he didn't expect. Mr puzzle felt his antenna spark as their eyes met, Mario then crashed into a fence while Mr puzzle was petting his creation. SMG3 and Four stare in shock at the TV man as he waves “Hell-” his greeting gets cut off as Mario punches his face breaking his screen. Mr puzzle screams before he glares at Mario, his voice muffled as he yells “AT LEAST LET ME SPEAK! I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING YET!” He sighs hearing his voice “Great now my voice is out of tune…” he smacks his head a few times till the right component slid into place. Mr puzzle then pulls his creation closer to himself “Now where were we? Ah yes, how DARE you try to hurt my precious creation!” SMG4 growls seeing the man, noticing this Three reaches out grabbing his hand letting the meme energy flow between them to comfort the guardian. Four relaxes slightly “You, what do you want!” Mr Puzzle ignores the pair to focus on Mario “Ahh Mario, have you met my friend pedro? A puppet of my own creation I hope you don't ahem mind I was inspired.” He points to the mustache gaining him furious expressions from Four and Mario, it was strange how seeing such an expression from the plumber made him feel sick. He shakes his head blaming the feeling on his now broken screen, Mario stomps the ground “You stole Mario’s mustache?!”

Three gives the TV man a disturbed look “Kinda creepy dude,” Four lets go of Three walking up to Mr Puzzle “WHY WOULD YOU TAKE HIS MUSTACHE YOU WEIRDO!” MR puzzles expression goes blank before he scoffs “I’m not being weird! You all clearly don't understand the power behind Mario’s magnificent stache!” Mr Puzzle notices the duo giving him creeped out looks while Mario keeps glaring at him, he lets out a chuckle “Thanks to my research i have my own funny man, with Pedro by my side i can finally be famous!” Done with Mr puzzle speech Mario charges and punches the TV man knocking his head off and into Pedro, the mustache flys off catching both Pedro and Mario’s attention. The guardians watch as the two fight for the mustache, as they fight it rips in half each part landed on each of their faces. Three facepalms at the situation “This has to be one of the stupidest shit that has happened in a while,” Four helps Mario up as he glares at Pedro “We need to grab that other half!” Mr. Puzzle, hearing Four’s words focus on his body, moving it, he guides it to where his head is and lifts it up. Slamming his head back on he runs in front of Pedro “Don't you dare! That mustache belongs to Pedro!” SMG4 lets out a bitter laugh “No, it belongs to Mario!” Mario walks past Four to stare down Mr puzzle, the look makes his antenna sparks as his screen changes to a blushing expression “Me and Pedro meme off.”

In a blink the crew were now in an arena for the great meme battle, the crowd was cheering excited to see the event. SMG3 and 4 were seated together looking over everything. “I hope Mario can win this,” Three rolls his eyes. “Or we can rig this, win and then go home.” Over hearing this Mr Puzzle hit a button, the pair get surrounded by turrets making Four hug Three close in fear. Three blushes as he looks around to see Mr Puzzle smiling at them “I would rethink that plan of yours SMG3, seems you could get hurt if you do it!” Three nervously nods his head as Mr Puzzle hits the button again putting the turrets away, the TV man walks to the center of the arena with a mic in hand. He looks at Pedro then at Mario “Are we ready gentlemen?” the pair nods “Then let the meme off begin!” As the challenge begins Mr Puzzles sits down to watch, the first challenge was the funniest face. As he watched he couldn't help himself to stare at the plumber, watching the man shift his face into a balloon which surprised the TV man as he watched the balloon morph into the plumber face. The crowd cheered and laughed at how silly it looked, Mr Puzzle couldn't help a small giggle at the site before Pedro attempted. No matter how hard he attempted to change his face, Pedro was unable to. The down side to the materials Mr puzzle used is that Pedro only had one facial expression, he growls at them losing that point as the next challenge starts. Pedro noticed his creator was distracted looking at Mario every once in a while, anger grew in him as he became determined to win and get his creator's attention back. The next challenge begins as the pair must do their most silly pose, as everyone watches the challenges Three notice something odd. He stares at Mr Puzzle and sees small sparks on his antenna, he squints and sees the TV man was blushing as he stared at Mario. Three’s eyes go wide “No..fucking way,” Four seeing Three’s shock face, gently taps him to get the mans attention “Hey dude everything okay? You look like that time Eggdog drove his first tank with Beeg.” Three nods “I’m fine, let's focus on cheering for our idiot.”

While Mario attempted to do his pose Pedro took this as his chance to knock the plumber down, he then used the man as a skateboard. Mr Puzzle gasps at the site noticing the strange anxiety at the site he looks away, he should be cheering his creation on. Yet the more he watches something in him wants that annoying pest to win, is it because he found him such an interesting star. Pedro hopes up and down in joy getting a point, the TV man gives a big smile to Pedro. No one can tell thankfully since his face was a screen, his smile was one filled with lies. The final challenge arrived, the air was tense as SMG3 and Four lean forward nervously for the final challenge.

The next challenge appeared, Mr Puzzle looked at the screen as the words ‘insult contest’ was projected. This was the moment to shine, Mr Puzzle looked at Pedro with his mic in hand giving a supportive nod. The pair stare at each other stroking their half of their mustache getting ready, Mr Puzzle clutches the mic tightly as he watches. As they start insulting each other people start to lean more on Pedro's side, Mario feeling confident makes a statement about the man being fat without parents. Pedro lets out a smirk as he replies, Mr Puzzle gasps seeing Mario fall to his knees. Victory was his, ignoring the strange feeling in his mechanical gut. “Well folks, it looks like Pedro has Mario beat!” right as he was going to announce the winner he pauses seeing Mario stand up. Mario smirks at Mr Puzzle causing a small spark to come out of his antennae “I didn't hear no bell,” he lets out as a red light surrounds Mario. Pedro takes a step back in shock while Mr Puzzle watches in amazement, Mario blasts Pedro with a roast so bad it got the crowd cheering. Mario lands on the ground crossing his arms as he watches Pedro stand there in shock, Mr Puzzle sighs as his screen changes to express his disappointment. “The winner is…Mario,” he honestly thought he would be filled with rage ready to charge at the plumber. Instead he felt relief that the plumber won his mustache back, there was something wrong with him there has to be. He smacks his TV trying to focus, he needs to remember the crew ruined everything and that same plumber he felt relief for is the reason for this strange illness.

Pedro sighs looking down as Mario celebrates getting his full stache back, SMG3 and Four run down from the stands to hug Mario. They cheered as Mario noticed Pedro walking away sad, feeling guilty he gently pushed his guardians aside to catch up to the man. Mario touches his shoulder making him turn confused, the avatar takes out a pencil drawing a new mustache to cheer Pedro up. He gasps, touching it before he pulls Mario into a hug, Mr puzzle watches in shock as the pair walk away hand in hand to the parking lot. As the pair drive away Mr puzzle drops to his knees watching them go, his screen flickered showing him crying as he watches the sight. SMG3 walks out of the stadium and notices Mr Puzzles on his knees, slowly he walks over to the TV man. Mr puzzle sighs looking down “Why…can't I just win? Is it wrong to want to entertain?’ SMG3 scoffs, catching Mr Puzzle's attention “You didn't give a shit about Pedro, your focus is all on Mario.” Hearing this he looks at the car in the distance as his antennae sparks “Of course I wanted payback on that brute! He stuck me with some kind of illness, my head used to be filled with the best media out there and now….” he clenches his fits as he hits the floor “NOTHING BUT THAT IDIOT FILLS MY CHANNELS!”

Three sighs as he looks down the road “I know how that feeling is, when I was a villain wanting nothing but revenge. I was so blinded by that need for payback I was blind to what I was truly feeling at the time.” Mr Puzzle gets up patting his pants to clean off any dirt “Oh do tell,” he lets out sarcastically. Three glares up at the TV man “Hey fuck off, nobody here likes you if you havent notice. I don't have to say shit i'm only doing this cause I know what it's like to fall in love with your rival!” Three’s eyes go wide as he covers his mouth blushing, Mr puzzle stares for a moment processing his words. “In love…with a rival?” his screen flickers to static for a moment before a montage of clips with Mario in it starts to play.

Three relaxes for a moment watching the man in front of him, the screen flicking to a panic expression “LOVE!? THAT IDIOT?! THE ONE THAT KEEPS BREAKING MY SCREEN!” SMG3 nods letting out a chuckle “You were checking him out in the challenges, you're down bad.” Mr Puzzle bends down to shake Three “I CAN'T BE! Romance is something beautiful, with one courting the other. All Mario has done is make my life hell!” Three breaks from the panic grab and takes a few steps away, making sure that he wasnt going to be grabbed again he speaks up “How do you think i felt when i found out about Four, but when you think about it more..you start to see why you did.” Mr Puzzle crossed his arms “What's so good about Mario? That he can entertain? Make me laugh? That he loves television?” SMG3 smirks as the TV man keeps listing things about Mario, he pauses when he notices the list he made looking at Three. The guardian shrugs “Told you,” with that he starts to walk away from Mr Puzzle before he stops and turns “Hey a question, when did you teach Pedro how to drive?” Mr Puzzle looks at Three annoyed by the topic change “Never did,” they stare at each other till they hear a loud crash making them both turn. Seeing the red car the pair left in crashed SMG3 ran back inside the stadium to find his partner, leaving Mr Puzzle lost with his thoughts. Ignoring the pair running around doing random memes, Mr Puzzle heads to his home lost in his head. Once he made it home he slammed the door shut and sat on the couch hugging his legs, who would have thought the illness was one known as the love bug. He sighs as he takes out his notebook looking at the five stars he drew. “This can't stop my plan, no matter what happens…I need those stars.” He then sees the small doodle he did of Mario, frustrated he tosses the notebook across the room. About ready to go into his head and forget the day, the doorbell rings making him get up from the couch. He swings the door open “FOR THE LAST TIME I'M NOT GOING TO SUBSCRIBE TO-” he pauses when he sees who is at the door. Mario smiles brightly as Pedro sprints past them “Mario brought Pedro home safely!” Mr Puzzle blushes as he rubs his arm “Oh…how kind of you, even though you were the one to run off with him. Ahem thank you.” Mario nods and turns to head home to get some spaghetti, he had to long in the day without a plate of his favorite dish and he needed to eat now. Mr Puzzle looks at Pedro who is bouncing around in the studio, he then turns to the plumber “Mario! Uh..i am going to make some pasta for Pedro, would you like to stay and eat?” Everything was yelling in his head, what was he doing? Truly he has lost his mind offering dinner to his rival, he needed to focus on the big picture. He then remembers how nice it was to have someone with him to celebrate his victory, frowning at the memory of Leggy, Mr Puzzle shakes his head “Never mind, I'm sure you're going to get some with the SMG4 crew.” He was about to close the door before Mario storms in “Thanks TV Man, Mario is so hungry!” Mr Puzzle watches as Mario and Pedro sit at the table demanding spaghetti, he sighs then lets out a small image of him smiling before closing the front door. He walks over to the pair acting annoyed “ENOUGH! I swear you two have no manners!” Mario smiles brightly at Mr Puzzles making him blush as his antennae spark, he was already regretting the invitation. He walks over to the kitchen and places his hand on his chest, feeling his heart race at the sight of the plumber smiling. He takes out his cell phone and looks at his phone, staring at the star rating he sighs looking back at Mario. His mind is filled with confusing and conflicting thoughts as he gets ready to spend the evening with his new found crush. “Maybe…it won't be so bad. I mean the people love a good celebrity couple!”

#smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #shygirl4991 #smg4 smg3 #lizaluv #smg4 au #marware #smg4 mario #smg4 mr puzzles

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greenbergsays · 9 days ago

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"we might end up real close" is the craziest almost certainly unintentional foreshadowing for a pair of characters that end up as entwined as Buck and Eddie do

We're talking keys to each other's houses, "there's no one I trust with my son more than you," clawing at the earth when one is buried underneath it, army-crawling under the same object that crushed his leg and almost ruined his life so that he can save Eddie's life, "it's in my will that if something happens to me, you become Christopher's guardian," climbing up a ladder in the middle of a storm after Buck has been struck by lightning, Chris's first call being to Buck when Eddie has a breakdown, Eddie really his most vulnerable with Buck, we-might-as-well-be-coparenting-at-this-point close

like damn.

#911 abc #buddie #I say unintentional because there's no way they thought that far ahead #they knew they'd be making them best friends. but there's henchim bestiesm and then there's whatever the fuck these two have going on

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mrinafria · 6 months ago

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[contains spoilers]

I'm an eternal digger of good narrative techniques. A decent story becomes great in my eyes if the narrative is done right. And it's one of the hardest things to do really, since there's no one-size-fits-all rule for what technique works well with a particular story and what doesn't. One of the primary reasons I keep obsessing over Lovely Runner is its' narrative technique. In all honesty, if it had a linear, singular narrative, I would not be hyperventilating over it on a constant basis (I still would just a certain amount, because both Byeon Woo Seok and Kim Hye Yoon deserve awards for what they are doing). One reason it has managed to knock it out off the park and take the top spot in my forever-favorite list is how wonderfully well the narrative is done.

The primary perspective used in this show is Im Sol's. It's through her we're introduced to the story. Her perspective gives shape to the plot, the characters, because we learn things through her. Her perspective is absolutely critical for exposition. Without her thoughts and way of viewing things, you would never realize why saving Seon Jae means so much to her, or why she would bend the rules and bulldoze ahead when it comes to his safety (exhibit A, her leaving home on the day of the accident, despite knowing about her fate). She'd rather have him alive than have him in her life. Without her narrative, you'd think it's really all about a fan saving her idol (thanks to everyone who'd rejected the script listening to that pitch by the way, I'm grateful we have BWS and KHY as the leads because of that, I would not change it for anyone else). With Im Sol's perspective, you realize, she is not just a fan: she's an ardent admirer, a cheerleader, a well-wisher, a protector, an invisible friend trying to support her friend any way she can, someone who respects Seon Jae, sees him as an idol but also as a human, someone who wants to give back to him the same kindness, empathy and love she had once received from him over a radio call. To her, Seon Jae is first a guardian angel and then an idol, the angel who changed her view of life, made her appreciate things even amidst all that could be wrong with the world and her life. He saved her. Not just on that day at the hospital but every time she struggled and faltered since then, he was there, as invisible as it may have been. So this time, she wants to save him, no matter the price.

Then comes Seon Jae. Oof. If Im Sol's perspective gives the story its beautiful, beautiful shape, Seon Jae's perspective breathes literal life in to the body of the story. The show wouldn't be what it is today if not for his perspective. Without his view into things, Im Sol appears as a fangirl going to extreme measures to save her idol, clinging onto him like a monkey (yes I mean the poster) embarrassing the heck out of herself, making you cringe (in a good, enjoyable way) throughout. Then you reach the end of episode 2 and it knocks the breath out of you because WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN. It all clicks.

All this while we kept thinking Seon Jae was caught off guard and just kind enough to tolerate her antics, and maybe he'd slowly fall for her now, only to realize we were completely oblivious to a whole different side of the story. If Im Sol's narrative draws you in and keeps you hooked, making you root for her to succeed, it's Seon Jae's narrative that makes you irredeemably fall in love with them and sincerely, genuinely, desperately hope they get their happy ending together after all the storm.

And the motifs. Walking/running, for instance. I'll focus on just one scene here. I recall seeing a bts where KHY is discussing the OG 2008 accident scene, and it explains how she has to slow down, while running away, for just a moment, only to be hit by the taxi driver. Have you ever been in a situation of absolute panic, desperation and stress, then suddenly found a familiar face or a name or a thing you could connect to, and felt a wave of relief rush through you? She sees Seon Jae, a person who is calling out her name. Even if she didn't know him back then, the fact that he knew her (and that he had his uniform on), gives her a sense of safety she badly needed that moment. That momentary relief, so visible in her features, then overtakes the crippling fear she felt running in the middle of nowhere with no one in sight in the dead of the night. Her body, already exhausted beyond anything, responds to the relief she feels for those few seconds, slowing down her steps.

And that is when she is caught off-guard and hit. That also might have added to Im Sol's anger at the hospital when she is screaming at Seon Jae, her internal anguish that if only she had not paused seeing Seon Jae, and kept on running, then maybe she wouldn't be hit, wouldn't fall, wouldn't lose her ability to walk. It's one thing to have tropes and symbolic things, but it's a very different thing to know how to use them effectively so they elicit very specific types of emotions/reactions out of people. Lovely Runner excels in that. All kdramas more or less have 'things' that take on different meanings for the couples/viewers. It's the way motifs are used to narrate the story in this one that has me going back over and over again to all the episodes aired so far. These are not just their 'things', these are 'things' that drive the plot forward, tell you about their characters, their personal motivations, what they mean to each other and so much more.

This is getting longer that I intended it to be so will end with this. I feel valued when watching Lovely Runner. And I've seen people saying the same thing. It feels like they respect your critical thinking skills, and your ability to infer, so they don't spoon-feed you everything from the get-go, and you can't predict much despite it being primarily a rom-com. You'd be pulling your hair out (again, in a good way) trying to figure out what they will show next, and you will be somewhat or very far from the truth, which will compel you to think further about the story, the characters, long after an episode has aired...I can't remember the last time it happened with a drama. I love this storytelling.

#Lovely Runner #Byeon Woo Seok #Kim Hye Yoon #Sun Jae #Im Sol #Seon Jae #선재 업고 튀어 #kdrama #kdrama recommendations #east asian drama

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zapreportsblog · 1 year ago

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↳ THE VOLTURI / POLY ↲

queen of the ball

your ours

bonds beyond blood

a haunting resemblance

tangled in duty

im not easily impressed but when I am then im impressed

ending things

a nocturnal sojourn

installing fear into their hearts

protecting what’s theirs

target on my back

moments like these

forced to stay

as long as you’re okay

caius knows best

unexpected bonds

an unconventional union

the enchanting dance

the beginning of understanding

the hybrids protector

headcanon : you as the volturi mate with Cassie personality

bleeding me dry like a got damn vampire

baked goodness

she’s just too damn good

how would the volturi react to someone with the gifts similar to the scarlet witch

your end and your beginning

how the volturi would react to their mate who’s both repulsed and fears them for killing innocent people

different type of yandere the volturi can turn out to be

how yandere volturi would react to their human escaping

↳ OTHER CHARACTERS ↲

how they react to you kissing them on the lips unexpectedly

i need love and affection

damsel in distress

beanstalk

too far gone

i can handle my own

happy birthday

the end of the road

our other half

don’t mess with the guardian

a day to remember

tattoos and bar talks

descendants

getting through mama bear

home from war

concealed

duckling

papa

my sweet boy

the non shifter

cold

wedding singer

waking up

the cold never bothered me anyways

the past needs to stay in the past

a lifelong bond

not a people person

afraid of love

↳ THE CULLENS ↲

finding my voice

the storms rolling in

heed my warnings

descendants

getting through mama bear

concealed

forget me not

an unconventional union

true mates

my sweet boy

the mating pull

the non shifter

wedding singer

how they react to you getting a tongue ring

waking up

a blast from the past

little fairy girl

the cold never bothered me anyways

the past needs to stay in the past

fear of rejection

the hybrids protector

a lifelong bond

show some respect boy

not a people person

the witch hybrid and her companion

the witch hybrid and her companion 2

afraid of love

like a bear in hibernation

blood cravings

perfectly imperfect

↳ REQUESTED / ORIGINAL CHARACTERS ↲

the predators and their prey

shadowed hearts

the pairing

↳ THE PACK ↲

how’d he react to his gender neutral partner wearing his hoodies/shirts because they are oversized on them

whenever, wherever, however

the night we met

checking in on you

the non shifter

imprint

the past needs to stay in the past

a lifelong bond

the witch hybrid and her companion

the witch hybrid and her companion 2

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asdfghjklmals · 1 year ago

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IN CASE OF EMERGENCY✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. WORD COUNT: 1.3k words. TAGS: adoptedkiddo!megumi x fem guardian!oc, nothing innappropriate.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend has always been megumi's emergency phone call. AUTHOR'S NOTE: taken and inspired by the manga chapter where the kiddos spill coffee on satoru's shirt. please let me know if my tag makes sense for megumi and reader, i don't want people thinking this is is an inappropriate relationship! REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

“we are so dead”, megumi thought to himself as he stared at the coffee that was spilled on the white dress shirt in front of him. ijichi had left gojo-sensei’s brand new and freshly dry cleaned button-up shirt with them for a moment and nobara just had to spill coffee all over it.

“you’ve done it now, kugisaki.” megumi chastised her.

“this is gojo-sensei’s, right?” nobara asked her two partners, “okay, who’s really at fault here? ijichi, who entrusted us children to keep a freshly dry cleaned shirt safe… or me, who spilled a little tinsy winsy bit of coffee?”

yuji and megumi shouted in unison, “you are at fault!”

the students started to panic while trying to dab at the stain with napkins. “you gotta dab it like this… this is how my grandpa taught me to treat stains.” yuji told megumi and nobara. his tongue was sticking out, eyes concentrated while dabbing at the shirt. megumi looked defeated. it was like he was working with tweedle dee and tweedle dum.

yuji picked up the shirt and laid it out on the table. the coffee stains almost looked like a design. maybe they would be able to get away with it. gojo-sensei wore some interesting things, he wouldn’t question it.

“it could pass for marimekko.” yuji said. nobara agreed while looking at the shirt, “if you look at it in this light and angle…”

“that’s so insulting to the fashion industry.” megumi stated. he was raised by the satoru gojo and (y/n) (l/n), so he was aware of the fashion trends due to both of his guardians having a shopping problem.

“why don’t we just get him a new shirt? i bet it’s replaceable!” nobara suggested to the two, “fushiguro, look up how much this shirt costs!”

megumi took out his phone and started googling. his eyes widened in shock, gulping as he realized it was a prada shirt, “uh, guys… this shirt is $1800…” he showed yuji and nobara his phone. they looked at the price with disgust and despair.

yuji, asking in fear, “is that before or after tax?”

“does it matter?! we don’t have that kind of money! we’re high schoolers!” megumi shouted at them. he could feel the anger boiling in him.

“well, i’ll put in $900 since i was the one that spilled the coffee and you guys put in $450 each, does that sound good?” nobara suggested as she did the math begrudgingly. she definitely did not want to spend her play money on replacing her rich sensei's shirt.

the kids heard the dining hall screen slide open, eyes full of terror. megumi shoved gojo-sensei’s shirt into his jujutsu high uniform as he greeted his students, “mornin’! ijichi should’ve left you guys with something for me… uh, megumi, you good?”

“oh yeah,” he said with a nervous chuckle, “ijichi said he was going to give it to (y/n) instead!”

the way megumi stuffed the shirt into his uniform made it look like he had boobs. nobara and yuji held in their laughs behind their hands, megumi’s lie was the nail in the coffin for them. he wanted to punch both of them in their faces, he was so annoyed. he stormed out of the room and retreated to a hidden faculty closet to make an emergency phone call.

“so, to what do i owe the pleasure of my adopted son calling me?” you teased megumi. he would've just gone to your office if today wasn't your day off.

“i need a favor…” he mumbled.

“what happened, kiddo? are you in trouble?” you asked him with all teasing aside, concern in your tone.

“not exactly. nobara spilled coffee on one of gojo-sensei’s expensive shirts. can you help me get it dry cleaned before he finds out?” he explained the story to you. mama-(y/n) instincts picked up right away.

“bring it home, i’ll take a look at it. satoru doesn’t come home until 6:30 today.”

you had a very soft spot for megumi and tsumiki. if they needed anything, you were there for them in a heartbeat. realistically, you knew that satoru wouldn’t be upset about his shirt since he could just buy a new one anyway, but it was cute to see megumi all worked up about it. you chuckled to yourself in the kitchen as megumi hung up the phone. he'd be home in a flash.

later that day: the gojo/(l/n) household

“(y/n)-sensei, i’m home!” megumi called out to you from the foyer as he took off his shoes and grabbed his slippers.

the familiar scent of the apartment he grew up in brought him back to his childhood, it was nostalgic for him. it was a mix of your nectarine and honey blossom perfume and gojo-sensei’s spicy and woodsy cologne.

he reminisced about when you and gojo-sensei first got this apartment. he would watch tv with tsumiki after school while you and gojo-sensei hung out in the kitchen making dinner. mainly gojo-sensei would watch and bother you, but to megumi's surprise, both of you were decent cooks at 18. he missed when you would read bedtime stories to him and tsumiki, he liked to think you were the reason why he loved reading so much.

he walked over to the wall next to the bathroom where gojo-sensei measured his and tsumiki’s height every month until he turned 12. a soft smile formed on his face when he thought about how his sensei would include his spikey dark blue hair into his height to make him feel better about not being 6'3" like him. oh what he would do to be 12 again...

after living in the dorms for a year now and only coming home on the weekends, he sure missed you and the blindfolded idiot. he would never admit it, but he actually liked living with you two. he was grateful to have guardians like you and satoru.

“welcome home, kiddo. we missed ya'. and what did i say about not calling me sensei? it makes me sound old.” you smiled and hugged him tightly.

he grumbled as you ruffled his hair, “ugh. you just saw me yesterday...” megumi shook his head and fixed a couple pieces of his hair that your slender fingers displaced. he hated when you and gojo-sensei would do that, but he always let it slide because well… it was you and gojo. and believe it or not, he had a soft spot deep down for you two.

“where’s the shirt?” you asked as megumi took out the soiled shirt from his backpack.

“yikes, not the prada shirt…” you tried to hold back a laugh.

“can it be saved?” he asked eagerly.

“i don’t know, megumi. you might have to do chores for a whole year to pay this one off.” you joked with him.

you sighed, there was definitely no fixing this. you retreated to your bedroom to find your purse, megumi curiously wondering what you were doing. you rummaged through your purse to find your wallet, taking out your black credit card and handing it to megumi. megumi eyes widened, he knew what the black cards meant, he grew up with you and gojo-sensei after all.

“take my card. go buy a new one exactly like this. he’ll never know.” you whispered to him.

“are you sure? this is expensive. nobara suggested we all pitch in to buy a new shir—”

you hit megumi upside the head with a spray of water from your cursed technique, “go now. the idiot comes home soon!” you grabbed his arm and dragged him from the kitchen table to the foyer.

he smiled at you and turned to open the door, but before he left, he stopped.

“(y/n)?” he said quietly.

“yes, megumi?” you watched him as he looked over at you.

his hand left the doorknob as he ran to hug you quickly, “you’re the best.”

his embrace surprised you. you wrapped your arms around your adopted teenaged son and laughed. everyone knew megumi loved you more than he loved satoru. there was only one person that he would call in case of emergency, and it was you.

BASED ON THE MANGA FILLER:

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

#megumi loves his guardians <3 #jjk x oc #jjk fluff #megumi fushiguro x oc #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #megumi fushiguro fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #yuji itadori #nobara kugisaki #satoru gojo #jjk imagine #jjk imagines

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ryin-silverfish · 4 months ago

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A side-by-side comparison of Nezha's backstory in JTTW and FSYY

(Sth I've been working on for a while, as quick reference material for Nezha's story in the two novels specifically that doesn't go into the broader mythos.)

JTTW's Nezha:

-Born with the characters "Ne/Na" on one hand, and "Zha" on the other

-Has 2 older brothers and 1 younger sister: Jinzha, who worked as a guardian deity and attendant of the Buddha, Mucha, who was the disciple of Guanyin, and Li Zhenying, who's said to be 7 years old in JTTW (Chapter 83).

-There's also Diyong/Lady Earth Flow, the adopted mice sister that had eaten the Buddha's candle, was captured by Li Jing and Nezha, and spared on the Buddha's order.

-She shows up in Chapter 80, as a demoness who kidnapped Tripitaka for the purpose of marriage, and is subsequently recaptured to face celestial judgement.

-Three days after his birth, Nezha went off into an unknown ocean, stepped on a crystal palace and toppled it, and caught a flood dragon to use its tendon as a belt

-After that, Li Jing tried to kill him for being a menace, and Nezha did the "Return his flesh and bones to his parents" thing in anger

-His soul then drifted off to the Buddha's place, who performed the Lotus Resurrection Thing by reciting a mantra

-He then subdued 96 caves of demons, and went after Li Jing to take revenge for the "forced suicide" thing

-Li Jing pleaded to the Buddha for help, who gave him a pagoda with Buddhas sculptured on every level, and told Nezha to call the Buddha (on the pagoda) as his father from now on.

-The weapons he used in his Three-headed Six-Armed Form: The Demon-slaying Sword + Demon-cutting Blade, Demon-binding Rope + Demon-subduing Vajra, Embroidered Ball, Fire Wheel (held in his hand)

FSYY's Nezha:

-Is the reincarnation of Taiyi's oldest disciple, Spirit Pearl/Lingzhu Zi

-Is destined to be the Vanguard of the Zhou army in the upcoming War of the Investiture

-Has 2 brothers: Jinzha, disciple of Wenshu Guangfa Tianzun, and Muzha, disciple of Sage Puxian. (FSYY's quirk of making popular Buddhist deities into Daoist sages in a trenchcoat is at play again.)

-Mother was pregnant with him for three years, gave birth to a ball of flesh

-Jumps out of the ball of flesh when Li Jing cuts it open, wearing his Qiankun Ring as a bracelet, Huntian Sash wrapped around his stomach

-Was immediately taken by Taiyi as a disciple the next day, who told Li Jing that, born in the hour of Chou, Nezha is destined to break 1700 prohibitions against killing

-A 6 ft tall 7-years old (FSYY's sense of scale is really weird, like all old novels)

-Asked to go out and play in the river during summertime, unknowingly created a shockwave in the water with his sash that shook Ao Guang's palace in the East Sea.

-Ao Guang sent a Yaksha to check it out. Nezha sassed the Yaksha, who attacked him in a fury and got insta-killed.

-Ao Guang's soldiers reported the Yaksha's death. Ao Bing overheard the whole thing, asked to go deal with this random brat, and was granted permission by his father.

-Ao Bing rode out of the waves on his steed, and went "Who are you, sassy lost child, and did you just kill my Yaksha?!" And Nezha was like "Yeah, so what? Talk shit, get hit."

-Ao Bing charged Nezha with his weapon in a fury, got dragged down his steed by the sash, and was promptly bonked on the head by the Qiankun Ring, which reverted him to his dragon form.

-Nezha then pulled out his tendons to make a belt for Li Jing's armor and returned to Chentang Pass. Furious, Ao Guang hurried his way to Li Jing's mansion and accused him for the whole multiple homicide thing.

-Li Jing's first reaction was "My kid's only 7 and never goes out of the door, he can't possibly kill yours!" Then, when he indeed asked Nezha, Nezha flat-out admits it and went out to meet Ao Guang like "Yeah, sorry, doesn't know that's your kid. Anyways, here's his tendons, undamaged and untouched."

-Ao Guang, unsurprisingly, did not take it well and stormed off to press charges to the JE. Faced with his angry crying parents, Nezha also knew he had fucked up, and went to his master Taiyi for help.

-Taiyi's advice? Go ambush the dragon king on his way to complain to the JE and beat him up, mobster-style. Which Nezha promptly did, forcing Ao Guang to turn into a little snake and stay in his sleeves, to be carried back to Chentang Pass.

-The beatdown does not convince Ao Guang not to press charges. In fact, he said he'd get the other dragon kings of the Four Seas to press charges together. Li Jing raged at Nezha again, who assured him that it was alright, like, his master said he was destined to assist some Sage King and stuff.

-He then wandered into the back garden, picked up the Qiankun Bow and Sky-shaking Arrows of the Yellow Emperor that were, uh, just kept there in the family attic, and decided to do some archery practice.

-Sadly, he didn't know how far that arrow would go. It flew all the way to the White Bone Cave, abode of Lady Shiji the Rock Demoness, and went straight through the throat of one of her two disciples, the Verdant Cloud Boy.

-Since Li Jing also carved his name onto the arrow (…), Lady Shiji headed immediately to his place and whisked him away with her treasure, the Eight Trigrams Hankerchief.

-At her place, Li Jing pleaded that he really didn't do it, since the Qiankun Bow was a mystical ancient weapon no one could use in a long, long time, and Shiji released him back to Chentang Pass to find the true culprit. At which point he put two and two together, found out it was Nezha again, and told him to go answer to Shiji together with him.

-Nezha, who did not think this was his fault, smacked Shiji's other disciple, the Colored Cloud Boy on the head with his Qiankun Ring, when he came out of the cave on his master's orders. Shiji was even less happy about that, took his weapons away with a single swipe of her sleeves, then chased him all the way to Taiyi's place.

-At which point Taiyi was like "Well, if you want Nezha to pay for his crimes, how about we go to the Jade Emptiness Palace together and let my master (Yuanshi Tianzun) sort it out?" Shiji refused, stating that he was just using his master's authority to lord over her and unfairly protect his disciple.

-Taiyi then revealed the Chan-Jie division that would later become a huge thing in the War of Investiture, and basically went "Sorry that your student died in Nezha's archery accident, Lady Shiji, but it is literally Fated to Happen, which means you totally shouldn't be mad at me or him."

-Shiji did not buy that explanation at all, and they fought. Taiyi blocked her hankerchief when she tried to use it, then threw the Nine Fire Dragon Bell Cover over her head, burning her to death and reverting her to her true form——a rock.

-Taiyi then informed Nezha that with JE's permission, Ao Guang had gathered the other dragon kings to go after Nezha's parents. Nezha begged him to save them, and his advice was...well, "kill yourself and the dragon kings will let them go". Literally.

-So Nezha did, which was very graphically described in the novel, after which his soul drifted off to Taiyi's place.

-Taiyi told him to go to his mother and tell her to build a temple for him at Mt. Cuiping. He did, and Lady Yin woke up from her dream crying.

-Upon learning the reason why, Li Jing yelled at her for crying after Nezha had brought all these troubles upon their family. Nezha's soul then haunted her in her dreams for a week or so, until she finally relented and built him a temple in secret.

-Half a year later, Li Jing found out about the temple while Nezha's soul was out and away for some unknown reasons. In a fit of rage, he smashed Nezha's statue and burned the temple down (I talk about how this resembles the destruction of 淫祠, illicit cults in IRL history here).

-Nezha returned to his temple only to find it in ruins, at which point he went back to Taiyi, who did the Lotus Resurrection thing and gave him back his weapons, together with a new spear, the Wind-Fire Wheels and a golden brick.

-Nezha immediately rushed back to Chentang Pass to take revenge, stating that after the whole "returning his flesh and blood" thing, they were basically unrelated and didn't owe each other anything, so he was perfectly justified to go after Li Jing for the destruction of his temple.

-They fought. Li Jing, quickly exhausted, turned tail and fled using the Daoist arts of Earth Travel, at which point he ran into Muzha. While they were talking, Nezha caught up with them.

-Muzha was like "How dare you!" and Nezha replied with "Who the hell are you?" Only after Muzha said his name out loud did he recognize his brother and recount the whole story.

-Muzha retorted that "Parents can do no wrong". Nezha pointed out that after his suicide, they were no longer father and son, and told him to stand aside.

-Muzha whipped out his sword to fight him. Concerned that Li Jing might get away in the meantime, Nezha threw his golden brick at Muzha, hitting him in the back and knocking him down.

-The chase continued. Li Jing, knowing that he couldn't run away forever, was ready to commit suicide instead of facing the disgrace of being struck down by his son.

-However, Jinzha's master, Wenshu, suddenly showed up to rescue him. Nezha demanded that Wenshu release Li Jing from his abode, and if he didn't, he'd poke three holes in Wenshu instead.

"And who are you, to make such claims?"

"I am Nezha, disciple of Master Taiyi!"

"Never heard of you. You can throw a tantrum elsewhere, but not here, and if you keep this up, you are in for a spanking."

-Nezha attacked him. In return, Wenshu unleashed his treasure, the Flying Dragon Pillar, tying Nezha onto it. He then summoned Jinzha, handed him a walking stick, and told Jinzha to give him a good whipping.

-Then Taiyi showed up to rescue him, telling Nezha to bow to Wenshu, his Daoist uncle (Context: Taiyi and Wenshu are both among the 12 Immortals of the Chan Sect), and scolded Li Jing a bit for the temple-burning thing.

-Then he told the two to get along and go their separate ways. Nezha was delighted, seeing it as basically a free pass to resume his revenge the moment he was out of his master's sight, and indeed, he did.

-Then Sage Randeng (also of the Chan Sect) showed up, gave Li Jing a buff, and told him to fight Nezha again. Nezha, having witnessed the whole thing and reached an impasse in the fight, attacked Randeng in an attempt to disable the buff.

-Randeng was not happy about this "unprovoked" attack on an innocent bystander, so he dropped a pagoda out of his sleeves and onto Nezha, trapping him inside.

-On Randeng's command, flames ignited inside the pagoda. At last, Nezha pleaded for the sage to release him, under the condition that he'd call Li Jing father (grrrr grrrr) again.

-He was planning to pull a second "resume patricide arc" the moment Randeng left, until the sage gave the pagoda to Li Jing and told them to go back to Chentang Pass and Taiyi's place respectively, to wait until the War of Investiture formally began.

-And they did: Nezha was sent to rescue Huang Feihu during his escape from the Five Passes in Chapter 34, while Li Jing only showed up much later in Chapter 64, to kill a fleeing Luo Xuan after he got all of his fire-based treasures neutralized and taken away by Princess Longji.

-I will not do a full campaign-by-campaign summary of Nezha's performance in the War of Investiture proper, for this post is already long enough.

-The broadest overview: together with his senior Daoist brother Yang Jian, Nezha was one of the biggest powerhouses on the Chan/Zhou side.

-His total kill count in the novel (only counting the named/deified ones) is 15, which is actually more than Yang Jian's (12-13).

-Much like Yang Jian, he was often the one who survived lethal attacks and AOE plague spells while the others were taken out. His lotus body also made him impervious to spells and treasures that work directly on the soul, usually by pulling it out of the body.

-After suffering an injury from the Blood-melting Knife of Yu Hua/his master Yu Yuan, Nezha was given his final power-up at Taiyi's place via three cups of wine and three "fire jujubes", enabling him to transform into his Three-headed, Eight-armed Form.

-At the end of the novel, Nezha, together with Li Jing, Jinzha, Muzha, Yang Jian, Weihu and Lei Zhenzi, became "Sages in Flesh"——which I understood as "a better sort of gods/immortals that don't receive their godhood via death and deification".

-The 6+ weapons he has: Qiankun Ring, Huntian Sash, Fire-tipped Spear, Golden Brick, Wind-Fire Wheel (in its most popular "hot wheels" depiction), Yin-Yang Swords, Nine Fire Dragon Bell Cover

#chinese mythology #chinese literature #journey to the west #investiture of the gods #fengshen yanyi #xiyouji #Nezha

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dejwrldarchived · 1 year ago

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CHOSOIST PRESENTS....LET'S PLAY W/ DEJA #KINKTOBER

of the words of berleezy, i'm a gamer...i do this. the do in question is thirst and thinking about getting bent over by your favorite video game characters. deciding to mix this year's (technically my first every kinktober) up and step away from my animanga roots. so ladies, gents, & non-binaries angels, this year's kinktober is dedicated to some of my favorite video game characters. — TAG LIST FORM

𝐋𝐄𝐓❜𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐒

OCTOBER 2ND-OCTOBER 7TH

( F*CK JOEL MILLER, LITERALLY ) 🎮 JOEL MILLER X FIREFLIES MEMBER!READER

— after a quite interesting run in with joel and ellie, you're stuck with them through the long journey to ensure ellie get to the fireflies in one piece. through bickering and nearly getting them killed, with a bottle of old whiskey and the moonlight shining down on you—joel miller shows you just how much he hate your guts.

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, firefly!reader, power dynamic, mentions of reader technically being held hostage by joel, mean dom!joel, oral (m.receiving), profanity, reader literally has the smartest & dirtiest mouth, age gap between reader and joel but nothing too big, alcohol consumption, spit usage, takes place during 1st tlou game, reader & ellie banter

CLICK HERE TO WATCH

( DEMON TIME) 🎮 INCUBUS!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X READER

— game synopsis: your boyfriend has been quite neglectful when it comes to your needs. not particularly being the best book boyfriend similar to the books you've read. but the one demon that visits you in your dreams seem to give you everything you need.

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, mentions of reader having a boyfriend, doggystyle, unprotected sex, dirty talk (simon calls reader a slut), mentions of wet dreams, pillow humping, monsterfucking, mentions of simon having horns

CLICK HERE TO WATCH

OCTOBER 9TH-OCTOBER 14TH

( GUARDIAN ANGEL ) 🎮 GUARDIAN ANGEL!SEPHIROTH X READER

— game synopsis: he's been your guardian angel since you were sixteen years old. protecting you from danger you didn't see coming, but now that you're slowly wanting space from him—he makes it his mission to remind you who you belong to until you take your final breath.

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, slight enemies to fuckers, reader somewhat purposely put herself in danger, possessive!sephiroth, mentions of sephiroth having pretty white wings, mating press position, cream pies, mentions of soul ties,

CLICK HERE TO WATCH

( COLD AS ICE ) 🎮 SUB ZERO!KUAI LIANG X SIREN!READER

— being the handmaiden of the grandmaster of the lin kuei has its perks. although you feel like an odd one out in a winter storm, your bond with the cold grandmaster seems familiar. as if you've experienced it before.

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, takes place in the mortal kombat timeline where kuai liang is the lin kuei grandmaster, clit play, ice play, temperature play, mentions of reader & kuai being multi timeline lovers, reader has siren powers, fingering, edging, slight exhibitionism,

CLICK HERE TO WATCH

OCTOBER 16TH-21ST

( BIG BAD WOLF ) 🎮 BIGBY WOLF X RED RIDING HOOD!READER

— game synopsis: bigby wolf has to juggle being the sheriff holding the fables together in the busy city of new york, but now a former prey returns to the city stirring up trouble & bigby's primal past.

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, mentions of folklores, marking kink, blood kink, primal kink, mentions of infidelity (bigby is dating snow/snow white), takes place after first the wolf among us game (spoilers may be included), cunt slaps, witty nicknames being said during intercourse (reader calls bigby the big bad wolf), reader is new in town, slight established relationship between bigby & reader

CLICK HERE TO WATCH

OCTOBER 31ST

🎮 BONUS PLAYTHROUGHS

⸻ short game plays to savor your sweet tooth from your favorite halloween candy

— ellie williams x reader, trick n treat ( fem reader, oral [reader receiving], dirty talk, thigh marks )

— jin sakai x reader ( female reader, arranged marriage trope, virginity lost )

— leon kennedy x reader ( female reader, doggy style position, marijuana usage )

CLICK HERE TO WATCH

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williamsonarssnal · 6 months ago

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𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | LW (parte.2)

SILVER SPRING ⸻ leah williamson x swimmer! reader.

Warning: making amends, feeling a bit angsty, Leah is the reader's true love, mentions original character. English isn't my first language!

Childhood memories flooded Y/N's mind as she sank deeper into the pool's depths. Her first touch of the water, the sensation of freedom and weightlessness, like a fish swimming in its own sea. The conquest of the first gold medal, the taste of victory and the joy of representing her country, the national anthem echoing in her ears. The unconditional love of her first pet, a Golden Retriever named Toby, who accompanied her on all her adventures, licking her face with affection after each game. The butterflies in her stomach during the first kiss at a school event, the promise of a future full of romance, whispering secrets under the moonlight. The declaration of love for Leah, the sincerity and vulnerability that united their hearts, sealing a pact of eternal love. The games with Marvin, her new furry companion, the walks in the open air, exploring new places together, the unshakeable friendship between dog and owner. The first words "I love you" whispered to Leah, the confirmation of a unique and true love, a melody that echoed in her soul.

The images mixed, forming a kaleidoscope of happy and unforgettable moments. With each desperate stroke, Y/N approached the surface, seeking light and life. The pain in her calf was excruciating, like knives piercing her muscles, but her willpower drove her to fight against death, the memory of her dreams and everything she loved most pushing her upwards.

Suddenly, a hand gripped her arm firmly, like a ray of hope cutting through the darkness. Y/N felt a strong pull and then her feet touched the bottom of the pool. She coughed up water and air, opening her eyes with difficulty, her vision blurred by the chlorinated water. A blurred figure was leaning over her, offering her support, a guardian angel appearing out of nowhere.

"Calm down, Y/N, you're safe," said the soft, familiar voice, like a balm to her soul.

Y/N blinked a few times, trying to focus her vision. The figure approached, revealing the face of one of her teammates, Emily, the swimmer who always encouraged her in training, the friend who listened to her in difficult times.

"Emily?" Y/N asked, still dazed, her mind processing what had happened. "What happened?"

"You had a bad cramp and started to sink," Emily explained, with concern in her eyes. "I was in the other lane and saw you right away. Thank goodness I was here."

"You had a strong cramp and started to sink," Emily explained, with concern in her eyes. "I was in the other lane and saw you right away. Thank God I was there." Y/N looked at Emily with gratitude, tears welling up in her eyes. "You saved me," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what would have happened without you."

Emily smiled gently, a smile that conveyed compassion and friendship. "Of course, Y/N. We're teammates, we're family."

Helped by Emily, Y/N got out of the pool, her muscles trembling with cold and emotion. The memories of her near death were still fresh in her mind, the image of sinking into the depths haunted her, but the gratitude for being saved flooded her.

"Thank you, Emily," Y/N said with a choked voice, hugging her tightly. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Emily hugged her back, a warm hug that conveyed security and support. "No need to thank me, friend. I would do anything for you."

Y/N felt safe and protected in Emily's arms, as if she were in a safe harbor after a storm. The fear and anguish that had gripped her moments before began to dissipate, replaced by a feeling of peace and gratitude.

"Are you okay?" Emily asked again, concerned about Y/N's condition.

Y/N nodded, still shaking a little. "Yes, I'm better now. I just need to rest a bit."

Emily helped her up and took her to the locker room, walking side by side down the wet hallway. In the locker room, Y/N changed clothes and sat on a bench, still trying to process everything that had happened.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Y/N looked at Emily, her eyes still full of tears, but with a more serene expression. "I don't know, Emily," she confessed, her voice full of uncertainty. "I almost lost my life today. It made me think a lot about what really matters."

Emily sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. "I understand, Y/N," she said with compassion. "It was a scary time. It's natural that you're questioning everything now." She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I've always put swimming first," she continued, her voice choked with emotion. "I trained relentlessly, sacrificing everything for my dream. But today, when I saw myself sinking in the pool, I realized that none of it matters if I'm not here to enjoy life with the people I love."

Emily looked at her intently, her eyes full of understanding. "You're right, Y/N," she said. "Life is much more than just achievements. It's about the moments we spend with the people we love, the feelings we share, and the experiences we have."

Y/N wiped her tears with the back of her hand, taking a deep breath. "I need to talk to Leah," she said, her voice determined. "I need to tell her how I feel, how much she means to me."

Emily smiled at her, an encouraging smile. "It's the right thing to do, Y/N," she said. "Communicate your feelings, don't leave anything unspoken."

Y/N stood up and hugged Emily tightly. "Thank you for everything, Emily," she said with gratitude. "You saved me today, and not just from the pool."

Emily hugged her back, squeezing her in her arms. "BFFs forever, Y/N," she said with a sincere smile.

Emily drove Y/N home in silence while the swimmer pondered her friend's words and the uncertain future that lay ahead. Her near-death experience had made her question everything, her priorities, her dreams, her feelings for Leah.

When they arrived home, Y/N thanked Emily again for her help and support, promising to keep her updated on what happened with Leah. Emily hugged her warmly and got out of the car, driving back to her own house, hoping that Y/N would find the happiness she so desperately desired.

Y/N walked into the house, her hesitant steps leading her to the living room. Marvin, the golden retriever she shared with Leah, greeted her with an excited bark, wagging his tail frantically. She knelt down beside him, stroking his soft head and feeling the comfort of his presence.

"Hey, boy," she said in a tired voice. "I missed you."

Marvin licked her face enthusiastically, as if happy to have her back home. Y/N got up and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. As she drank, she looked at the phone on the counter, knowing she needed to call Leah and explain everything that had happened.

But with each passing second, her hesitation grew. What would she say? How would Leah react? What if she wasn't ready to talk? Y/N felt trapped between the desire to confess her feelings and the fear of rejection.

Suddenly, a noise at the door pulled her out of her thoughts. She turned and saw Leah standing there, her eyes full of concern. Marvin barked again, jumping for joy at seeing his other owner had returned.

"Leah!" Y/N exclaimed, surprised by the presence of the English player. "What are you doing here?"

Leah approached her, her eyes fixed on her face. "I know what happened at the pool," she said in a firm voice. "Emily called me and told me everything."

Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest. "And… what do you mean by that?" she asked, trying to stay calm.

Leah took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. "Y/N, I love you," she said, her voice soft and sincere. "And I was so scared of losing you."

Leah's words hit Y/N like a lightning bolt, causing all her doubts and fears to dissipate instantly. She couldn't believe that Leah also loved her, even with her obsession with swimming and her difficulty balancing the sport with a relationship.

"Leah," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "I love you too. More than you imagine."

Leah smiled, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "So what does that mean?" she asked, reaching out her hand to Y/N.

Y/N looked at her hand and then into her eyes. She knew it was time to make a decision, to choose between her dream and her love. But in that moment, looking at Leah, she knew what really mattered.

With a radiant smile, she took Leah's hand and squeezed it tightly. "It means we're together," she said, her voice full of determination. "We'll find a way to make everything work, because the love we feel for each other is more important than anything else."

Leah pulled her into a tight hug, and the two surrendered to the happiness of finally being able to be together without fear or resentment. Marvin barked again, wagging his tail excitedly, as if celebrating the union of his mistresses.

Informal translation:

"Woah, Leah!" Y/N exclaimed, taken aback by the English player's sudden appearance. "What brings you here?"

Leah closed in on her, her gaze fixated on Y/N's face. "I'm aware of the pool incident," she stated firmly. "Emily filled me in on everything."

Y/N's heart pounded like a drum in her chest. "And what exactly do you mean by that?" she inquired, attempting to maintain composure.

Leah inhaled deeply and met S/n's eyes. "Y/N, I've got feelings for you," she confessed, her voice soft and genuine. "And I was terrified of losing you."

Leah's words struck Y/N like a bolt of lightning, instantly dispelling all her doubts and worries. She couldn't fathom that Leah reciprocated her feelings, despite her unwavering dedication to swimming and the challenges of balancing a relationship with her sport.

"Leah," she began, her voice trembling with emotion. "I feel the same way about you. More than words can express."

Leah's lips curved into a smile, her eyes sparkling with joy. "So, what does that mean for us?" she asked, extending her hand towards Y/N.

Y/N glanced at Leah's hand and then back into her eyes. She knew she had a decision to make, to choose between her dream and her love. But in that moment, gazing at Leah, she realized what truly mattered.

With a radiant grin, she grasped Leah's hand and squeezed it tightly. "It means we're a couple," she declared, her voice filled with determination. "We'll figure out a way to make it work, because our love for each other surpasses anything else."

Leah pulled her into a warm embrace, and they surrendered to the bliss of finally being together without any fear or resentment. Marvin barked once more, wagging his tail enthusiastically, as if celebrating the union of his beloved owners.

tagged: @woso-obsessed

sorry for the errors! x

#leah williamson #woso #woso x reader #arsenal #lesbian #sapphic #wlw #wlw love #woso imagine

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k-eilonwy · 11 days ago

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decided to get back to my roots for a bit and tackle redesigns of my all-time favourite mlp G3 dream team : 3 these five have shaped my early 2010s and helped me to grow both as an artist and storyteller (i started writing silly little fanfics and my own take on the then-hypothetical G5 based on G3 and these five characters in particular), so they have, and always will have my entire heart.

i came up my own kind of au version of G3 and here are some of my small headcanons for each character!!

Rainbow Dash:

her parents are Parasol (G1 pony) and Barnacle (G1).

she is the oldest (and the tallest!) of the five.

she is a major fashionista and diva, but with a hint of adventurousness and even ferocity behind those eyes. Dash is a fan of all things beautiful, be it bright colours, grand celebrations, and more down-to-earth values.

naturally, her craft is related to rainbows - she draws them with the special paint she makes herself, and it's a very rare knowledge among the Ponyville citizens (Unicornia's rainbow-creating magic works on the same basis as Dash's paint, she just makes it without the unicornian magic involved).

oftentimes she is the voice of reason for her friends.

in her free time she designs clothing in collaboration with Sew-and-So and funds/runs fashion shows.

isn't the biggest fan of sweets (thinks it spoils her figure and coat).

absolutely adores rainy weather (cause rainbows).

is a sap for romance and cheep romantic novels.

Spike:

was born in a dragon tribe living far from pony societies.

was born wingless and with water-based powers, while most dragons breathed fire and had wings, so he's an oddball amongst the common dragons.

the dragons were supposed to work with pony royalty/leaders and protect them. The way the dragons chose did it was passing a test of obtaining a very rare flower only meant to be gifted to the royalty - the Royal Everbloom, a flower which was near impossible to maintain/grow but could bloom for forever.

Spike failed to pass his test of safely delivering the Royal Everbloom back to the tribe, failing to protect the flower from a bad storm so it withered under hard rain. However, Wysteria noticed Spike struggling to keep the flower safe just outside her cottage and brought them both inside - nursing the poor dragon and the flower back to health. It suddenly bloomed under her care, so by the old tradition, it meant that Wysteria belonged to royalty.

cue the events of Princess Promenade pretty much the same as they went down in the original as Spike played the role of mentor and royal advisor to Wysteria. She still rejected the title in the end, proclaiming that Ponyville didn't need royalty to govern over them and that she was no more special than any other.

Spike is humbled (and charmed) by her worldview and decides that he rather enjoys the simple life of local ponies - besides, he has grown deeply devoted to Wysteria and doesn't want their friendship to end, so he parts with his tribe and lives with the purple gardener in her little cottage.

he greatly helps Wystie with gardening - his water-breathing powers come in handy while working with plants! He finds that even if he doesn't breathe fire like "normal" dragons, he still can make his abilities work in other fields.

he is often the brains of the group - his exotic dragonic upbringing is a great contrast to the ponies' more down-to-earth worldviews.

is a vegetarian (idk if all dragons in this universe are or it's just him, but-).

is a big fan of literature of all kinds, especially poetry.

generally is a huge nerd and is prone to rambling about his favourite subjects. Not the most outgoing person, more of an introvert, especially in contrast to most ponies (that's why they match their energies with Wysteria so well).

absolutely adores Wysteria, they are something of platonic soulmates/life-partners. Can be very protective of her, even though he is usually non-threatening/pretty chill (he is her personal dragon guardian!)

Wysteria:

her parents are Blossom (G1) and Salty (G1).

Petal Blossom (G2) is her maternal older cousin.

Wysteria took to gardening and flower arrangement since early years from her mother. Participated in a lot of local fair gardening competitions through her fillyhood and won the majority of them (the trophies are kept at her parents’ house).

moved out from her parents’ house once she had managed to save up enough money to purchase a small but neat cottage at the edge of the woods; it is located near Ponyville, but quite far from its centre. Pinkie, Minty and Dash like to visit their bestie and her dragon friend on weekends and each time together they plan some really fun activities.

during spring and summer seasons, Wysteria lives off selling flowers and bouquets at Ponyville’s biggest market. Once autumn hits however, she and Spike stay at one of their three closest friends’, Pinkie, Minty or Dash’s, house until next spring - each year they stay at a different pony’s house. Wysteria and Spike help out with chores and share household duties during their stays, but even regardless of that their friends are simply happy to let the two live with them.

Wysteria is socially anxious and quite solitary, content with keeping a limited circle of friends to spend time with. Akin to Snufkin she requires a lot of “alone” time away from others, that’s why she likes living so far from the town. However she is very dependable and very very kind, so a lot of ponies confide in her.

hates. weeds. so. much.

often feeds stray and forest animals coming to her cottage. Is fond of bunnies and birds the most.

Pinkie Pie:

her parents are Cotton Candy Snr. (G1) and Slugger (G1). Is a twin sister to Cotton Candy Jr (G3).

Pinkie runs a gift shop along with Minty, her bestie since fillyhood and a life-partner.

works as a party planner as her second job - generally just love celebrations and organising events.

she is a natural leader and is able to make even opposing groups come and work together. Sociable and easy-going, pretty chill to be around.

isn't easily scared and usually doesn't believe things she can't see with her own eyes or try out.

has a MAJOR sweet-tooth: her sister runs an ice-cream cafe, so there's that.

has a "supernatural" ability to come up with a solution to almost anything, - using Pinkie's squink (basically just squeezing her eyes tight and thinking long enough).

is drawn to photography and films.

Minty:

her parents are Minty Snr. (G1) and Steamer (G1). Ice Crystal (G1) is her maternal uncle.

everyone's favourite disaster-monger.

works in a gift shop alongside Pinkie. Generally can't function well without her supervision lol.

Clutzy and socially anxious, but in a different way than Wysteria, Minty is obsessive, hyperactive and makes up for her awkwardness with her pony-pleasing attitude. Enjoys helping others out, it makes her feel important.

can't sit still for long period of time, needs an outlet for her excessive energy.

collects SOCKS.

winter is her favourite season; it reminds her of warmth and companionship of her friends huddled close by the fireplace. Exchanging gifts and stories. Making others smile.

is surprisingly good at checkers.

is claustrophobic, hates being limited.

doesn't enjoy reading that much, but rather likes picture-book illustrations.

#k-art #mlp #my little pony #my little pony G3 #mlp g3 #pinkie pie #rainbow dash #wysteria #spike the dragon #minty #ponies #mlp fanart #pinkie pie g3 #wysteria g3 #spike g3 #rainbow dash g3 #minty g3

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fanficapologist · 21 days ago

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Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter One Hundred & Two

The bath sat in the center of the Queen’s private chamber, a massive, intricately carved tub of smooth metal. The low light from the hearth danced across its surface, casting flickering shadows along the edges of the water. Steam rose from the gently rippling surface, mixing with the dim warmth that radiated from the roaring fire nearby. The dark stone walls around her gave the room an imposing feel, but the glow from the hearth across the chamber softened the shadows.

Maera had dismissed her servants and ladies, craving solitude. The stone floor echoed with silence as the chambermaids had exited, leaving her completely alone. Aemara, her daughter, had been sent to the nursery for the night, along with Sȳndor, who would undoubtedly curl up near the crib, acting as her guardian. For once, there was no noise, no crying, no footsteps—just the soft crackling of the fire and the gentle rippling of the bath.

She didn’t bother with the oils and soaps laid out for her, nor did she make any effort to wash her hair or body just yet. Instead, she simply sat there, submerged in the warm water, her back leaning against the cool stone of the tub. Her arms rested along its edges, her head tilted slightly, eyes half-closed. It was one of the few moments she could simply breathe, without the weight of her crown or duties pressing on her shoulders.

Her fingers trailed absently across her stomach, her skin warmed both by the bath and the heat from the nearby hearth. It was a subconscious movement, her hand moving on its own accord, as her mind wandered to the news the Grand Maester had given her. She was pregnant again. Another life growing inside her. Another chance to fulfill the realm's expectations.

The realization still hadn’t fully settled in but she had time- six moons, if Vaegon’s estimation was correct. The thought gave her some comfort. Six moons to prepare herself, to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. It certainly explained the small changes she had noticed: the subtle weight gain, her irritability. She was happy, of course, but the weight of it all pressed against her like the warm water surrounding her, as if she could just let it wash away her concerns.

The stillness of the moment was shattered when the doors to the chamber burst open. Maera jumped, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as Aemond stormed in, his face darkened with fury. His stride was purposeful, almost predatory, but he stopped in his tracks when his gaze landed on her in the bath. For a moment, silence stretched between them. His piercing gaze lingered, the tension between them thick and unfamiliar.

Maera furrowed her brow, feeling the weight of his stare as her arms instinctively crossed over her chest. What was he staring at? Did he notice something different about her? That couldn’t be—he had been with her only that morning, and nothing had changed. She scoffed inwardly at herself. His lingering gaze was likely for one reason, the same reason any other man would stare: her nudity. It had always drawn his attention, his hunger for her never truly sated, no matter how many times they’d lain together.

The Queen’s lips tightened as she observed him stride towards the bed, a pained look on his face. Another headache, no doubt. He’d been getting them more frequently, and his foul mood was likely exacerbating the pain. His expression was dark, his lips set in a hard line as he rubbed his temples. She could sense the storm of emotions swirling in him, his frustration palpable in the air. Whatever had set him off, it had clearly been something serious.

From the tub, Maera broke the heavy silence that hung between them. “I know something troubles you,” she said, her voice steady but softened by the steam and quiet of the room. A gruff hum came in response, and nothing more. Aemond’s back remained to her, his tall frame rigid with tension. She tried again, gentler this time. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Aemond sighed deeply, the sound almost like a growl as his head tilted back towards the ceiling. His hand reached up to undo the strap of his leather eyepatch, revealing the harsh lines of strain on his face as he placed it aside. “The Red Kraken,” he finally muttered, his voice tight.

The Queen watched his back as he turned away, the muscles in his neck flexing with another hiss of discomfort. She heard the soft clink as he scooped the sapphire from his eye socket and placed it carefully into the bowl by the bedside. His profile, for a moment, was stripped bare of its usual sharpness, leaving only the empty socket exposed.

He undid his silver hair from its tie, letting it fall straight to his shoulders, pale like the moonlight. “He finally made his choice,” Aemond said, his voice filled with bitter distaste. “Rhaenyra.”

Maera frowned, her fingers tracing absent-minded patterns in the cooling water. She remembered Aemond’s frustration from years ago when he had first approached Lord Greyjoy at the start of the war, seeking his help. The Lord of the Iron Islands had been elusive and declined to offer support to either side of the conflict at that time. But now, it seemed the Red Kraken had finally chosen—against them.

She watched as Aemond continued to disrobe, his movements slow and deliberate, as if the action itself could ease the burden that weighed on him. He bent to unbuckle his boots, casting them aside with a rough toss. His long fingers then moved to undo the clasps of his dark doublet, shrugging it off his broad shoulders. The soft fabric of his white undershirt was the next to go, pulled over his head and thrown carelessly to the side, revealing the lean, toned lines of his body.

Finally, he unlaced his trousers, pulling them off along with his underclothes in a single motion, leaving them in a pile at the foot of the bed. His skin, bare and lit by the flickering candlelight, cast long shadows across the stone floor. His body was a mixture of elegant strength and hardened edges, his lithe frame a map of scars, both old and new.

Maera’s voice was gentle, though her question carried the weight of concern. “What does this mean?”

Aemond paused, humming with a mixture of frustration and calculation before he approached the tub. “It means the Red Kraken is taking advantage of the war, pirating and pillaging his way along the west coast,” he answered, his voice edged with anger. “He’s burning every ship that dares cross his path, looting and leaving nothing but ash in his wake.” His words, clipped and filled with disgust, echoed through the chamber.

A chill ran up the Queen’s spine at the gravity of the news. She recalled that the new overlord of the Westerlands was but a child, with his mother, Lady Johanna, acting as regent. But how could Lady Johanna—a lone woman burdened with the governance of her people—stand against the bloodthirsty pirates of the Ironborn? Men who had no honour, no loyalty. The thought gnawed at her, as did the realization of what this could mean for the Realm.

Before Maera could question him further, she watched as Aemond, his expression brooding, stepped into the metal tub, joining her. They faced each other for a long, quiet moment, the only sound in the room being the crackling hearth behind them, casting warm flickers of light across the stone walls. His violet eye—sharp, restless—lingered on hers before he looked away, the weight of his frustrations clear on his face.

Maera placed a hand atop his, pulling his attention back to her. She granted him a small, reassuring smile. “Turn around,” she gestured gently. Aemond looked puzzled, his brow knitting together in confusion. But when she raised her brow with insistence, he let out a resigned sigh and complied, turning around so he now sat between her legs, his back facing her.

She reached for the pail of water by the tub, tilting it to rinse his long, silver hair. The warmth of the water made his hair curl slightly at the ends as it soaked through. She then took a bar of soap, lathering it in her hands before she began to rub it into his scalp. Her fingers worked with care, digging her nails in ever so slightly to relieve the tension that knotted in his muscles.

Aemond let out a quiet sigh, his body relaxing under her touch. He leaned back, his head coming to rest against her chest, letting the warmth of the water and the comfort of her touch ease his worries for the moment. The tensions between them and the turmoil outside the chamber walls seemed to fade, if only briefly.

Maera leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Aemond's temple, her lips lingering against his skin before she asked, "And what will you do about it, my King?" Before he could answer, she felt him tense beneath her hands, his body preparing to rise from the tub. But with a firm press of her palms on his shoulders, she kept him grounded.

She couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. Though he was so much stronger than her—his body built for war and flight-he allowed her to hold him in place, giving her this small illusion of control.

Aemond tilted his head back, his sharp violet eye catching hers, the corner of his lips twitching ever so slightly. "I'm still contemplating," he admitted, his voice gravelly yet thoughtful. "Lord Bryndemere advised me to sleep on it before I decide anything." Maera's fingers moved gently through his hair, her nails scratching lightly against his scalp. He leaned further into her touch, his body relaxing once more as a quiet sigh escaped him, his head nuzzling into her bare chest for comfort.

For a moment, they sat in that silence, the fire crackling softly behind them. But then, Aemond sat up, turning to face her in the tub. His sharp features were bathed in the soft glow of the hearthlight, the flickering flames casting shadows along the planes of his face. He had the look of a warrior, but it was the weight of a king that hung in his gaze.

"On the one hand," he began, his voice measured and calm, "the Lannisters are our allies, and wealthy ones at that. They've supported our cause with coin and soldiers. But without an overlord, Lady Johanna is defenseless. Most of her army is away, fighting in our name, leaving her exposed to the Ironborn."

Maera nodded as he spoke, reaching for the soap nearby. She began to scrub her arms and legs, the familiar rhythm calming her as she listened. One of the things she admired most about her husband was how methodical he could be, even in the face of danger. His mind, when not clouded by anger, worked like a weapon-sharpened to a fine point. It was true his temper had often been his downfall, but, be it age, or the fact he was now a father, he was learning to wield his anger like a powerful sword.

The Queen felt a gentle tug as Aemond lifted her left leg onto his lap, her skin sliding slightly against his wet thighs. With a quick motion, he snatched the soap from her hand, a smirk playing on his lips. She rolled her green eyes in response, exhaling softly as he began to run the soap along her leg, working the lather into her skin. His touch, while firm, softened when he reached the scarred flesh on her upper thigh, his movements careful, almost reverent.

“And on the other hand?” she asked, her voice soft but direct, trying to pull him from his silent brooding.

Aemond continued his work, his fingers tracing the edges of her scars as if committing them to memory. He hummed, his voice vibrating through the quiet chamber before answering. “It’s difficult to send aid to the Lannisters. Cole is barely holding the Riverlands, and even then, only by a fraction. The Lannister troops are propping up that front.” He sighed, moving the soap higher on her leg. “If we withdraw forces from the Riverlands to aid the Westerlands, it could cripple the war effort.”

Maera’s gaze softened at his words, understanding the weight that pressed on his shoulders. Without a word, she reached forward, snatching the soap from his grasp. His eye flashed with amusement as she leaned into him, pressing the lathered bar against his broad chest, rubbing slow circles across the muscles beneath his skin. Bubbles formed and slipped down his torso as she grinned up at him mischievously.

“Remind me, husband,” she began, her voice carrying a teasing lilt, “what titles were bestowed upon you when you became King?”

Her husband scowled at her, clearly suspicious of her playful tone, but she merely tucked a silver strand of his hair behind his ear, her fingers lingering for a moment. “Go on,” she prodded, her grin widening. “It’s not a trick question.”

With a reluctant sigh, Aemond leaned back slightly in the tub, his features hardening for a moment as he recited, “I am Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.” He paused, as if realizing where she was leading him. “And Protector of the Realm,” he added, his voice quieting as he met her eyes.

The firelight flickered in the reflection of his single eye as he spoke, his gaze steady but far away as he weighed the choices in his mind. Maera watched him, her heart swelling with pride. Whatever decision he made, she knew it would not be one made in haste. He was learning, growing, becoming the king she always knew he could be.

Maera nodded, her hands still on him, and a knowing smile tugged at her lips. “There’s your answer,” she said simply.

The King hummed thoughtfully at Maera's words, his sharp gaze softening as his hand moved to stroke her cheek. His fingertips were gentle against her skin, and she felt the droplets of water dripping down from his palm onto her face, cool against the warmth of the bath. Maera instinctively leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment, letting herself bask in the quiet connection between them.

When she opened her eyes, her voice was low, steady. "You needn't send boats or troops to deal with the Red Kraken," she whispered. She searched his face, her green eyes locking with his, as a smile began to curve her lips. "Nothing matches dragonfire," she added with a glint in her eyes. Reaching up, she twirled a lock of his damp silver hair between her fingers, the strands curling slightly from the water. "Either I, you, or Daeron could handle the pirates in a mere afternoon," she said, her voice filled with quiet confidence.

Aemond let out a low chuckle, his deep voice reverberating in the stone chamber. Without warning, he grabbed her wrist, his touch firm but playful, pulling her closer to him in the bath. His one good eye gleamed with mischief as he asked, "Why does it always seem like we're the ones cleaning up everyone else's messes?"

Mara giggled, her chest rising and falling with her laughter, and she let herself be pulled further into him. "Because that," she teased, "is what it means to rule."

His smirk faded into something more intense as he tugged her closer still, his grip sliding from her wrist to her waist. The distance between them closed in an instant, and his lips found hers. The kiss was firm at first, a meeting of lips that quickly deepened. His free hand cupped the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her wet hair as he pulled her even closer.

The Queen responded in kind, her fingers dancing across his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath her fingertips as their mouths moved together. His kiss grew more fervent, more insistent, and she matched him, tilting her head to meet him fully.

Despite the heat of the moment, the instant Maera felt Aemond's hand slide up her plush thigh, inching ever closer to her centre, a gasp escaped her lips. Instinctively, she hopped backward, causing the water to splash and spill over the edge of the tub, cascading onto the cold stone floor below. Aemond immediately furrowed his brow, not in anger, but in concern, his one eye searching her face for an explanation.

Maera shook her head to herself, feeling foolish for her sudden reaction. "Forgive me," she murmured, her fingers nervously fiddling in her lap. Her mind raced back to the news she had received earlier that day—the news of her pregnancy. The thought still weighed heavily on her, filling her with an unfamiliar blend of excitement and anxiety. She wasn't ready to share the burden with Aemond yet. Not now. So instead, she sighed softly, saying, "It's been a trying day."

Aemond, ever perceptive, leaned forward and gently shushed her, offering a sad yet reassuring smile. His touch was tender as he gestured for her to turn away from him, a silent request to let the moment continue on her terms. Maera complied, turning so her back faced him, leaning into him with a deep sigh. She closed her eyes as she felt him begin to pour warm water down her shoulders, the gentle stream calming her as his lips brushed her cheek in a soft kiss. In a low whisper, he asked, "What's troubling you?"

Maera didn't reply right away. Her gaze drifted toward the roaring hearth across the chamber, its flickering light casting shadows on the stone walls. For a moment, she lost herself in the fire, her mind weighed down with thoughts of what lay ahead.

She felt Aemond's hand on her chin then, gently turning her face toward his. His gaze was intense, filled with a deep understanding. The look in his eye was one she knew all too well, a quiet promise of comfort.

"Would you allow me to ease your troubles?" he asked, his tone sultry and laced with warmth. “You needn’t do anything but relax.”

Despite the turmoil in her mind, Maera couldn't help but smile stubbornly at his offer. His persistence and devotion never ceased to tug at her heart. Hesitantly, she nodded, giving him silent permission. She knew that, if only for a moment, his touch might help her forget the weight of the day, and she let herself lean into the solace he offered.

The King began by washing her hair, his skilled fingers massaging Maera's scalp with practiced tenderness. He applied just the right amount of pressure, working the soap into her brown and silver curls, creating soft, fragrant bubbles that quickly filled the air around them. Maera sighed as the warm bathwater cascaded over her head, rinsing away the suds in soothing waves.

Next, Aemond's hands moved to her shoulders, applying soap with gentle caresses. His touch was deliberate, slow, and reverent, tracing the lines of her soft white skin. Maera closed her eyes, letting out a soft breath as his hands slid down her arms, washing away the day's tension. His touch soon worked its way to her chest, his fingers tracing the curves of her rounded flesh. He squeezed gently, teasingly, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She bit back a moan, fully aware of the way her body responded to him, the slight tingling in her breasts as her milk began to leak.

“Fuck,” a growl was heard behind her. The Queen knew Aemond noticed it too, and from the way his eye lingered on her, it was clear he enjoyed the sight.

All the while, he peppered kisses along the side of her face and neck, starting with barely-there touches. His lips grazed her skin, sending ripples of goosebumps down her arms. Each gentle kiss felt like a spark, awakening something deep inside her. But as his caresses continued, his kisses became more intense, wetter and rougher. He pressed his mouth to her skin with an urgency that sent shivers down her spine. His breath, hot and ragged, brushed against her ear, the sound alone sending a wave of excitement through her.

With each touch, each kiss, Maera felt her pulse quicken, her body responding to the slow burn of desire igniting between them. Her husband’s lips brushed against her skin as he cooed softly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Forgive me, sweet wife,” he murmured, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Here I am, complaining of my troubles, when you have been suffering in silence.”

His hand moved with a deliberate slowness, slipping lower beneath the water. Maera squirmed against him, her breaths growing quicker, anticipation tightening in her chest. His fingers glided down her stomach, and just as the heat of desire began to coil tighter within her, his hand dipped between her legs. She gasped, her body tensing at the sudden and intimate touch.

Aemond’s low chuckle reverberated through the quiet room, his tongue trailing a wet stripe up the side of her neck. His hot breath tickled her ear as he whispered, voice low and sultry, “Shall I take your pain away, my queen?”

Maera’s breath hitched, her heart pounding as she eagerly nodded, her cheeks flushing with heat. A soft, needy moan escaped her lips as Aemond’s fingers expertly found her clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that sent waves of pleasure rippling through her. Her body arched into his touch, surrendering to the sensation as she let herself drown in the closeness of the moment, the warmth of the bath, and the burning intensity of his touch.

The King’s fingers pressed more firmly, working their magic as the pleasure within Maera surged like a rising tide. She gasped, her breaths coming in short, sharp bursts, barely able to keep up with the sensations coursing through her body. Instinctively, her hand shot up, tangling in her husband's long silver hair. Her nails dug into his scalp just enough to elicit a low groan from deep within his chest.

With a surge of desperate need, Maera pulled him forward, crashing their lips together in a messy, fervent kiss. Their teeth clashed, tongues tangling with a primal hunger as the water around them sloshed wildly. She writhed in his arms, her body arching back against him as waves of pleasure built higher and higher.

Her backside ground against him, and she felt the undeniable hardness of his manhood pressing into her lower back. The sensation only fueled her further, her body aching for him, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure and the closeness of their shared desire.

Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Maera let her head fall back against his shoulder as she cried out in ecstasy. She felt his fingers slide deep inside her, finding that perfect spot with a practiced ease, and the Queen's body responded instantly, trembling with the intensity of it. His fingers pumped in and out of her, his thumb never ceasing its slow, maddening circles around her most sensitive bundle of nerves. The overwhelming pleasure consumed her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, the sensation almost too much to bear.

"Aemond," she whined, her voice breathless and needy.

"I know," he murmured against her ear, his voice soft but laced with satisfaction. "Do you want to finish, sweet wife?"

"Yes. Pl-please," she begged, her words tumbling out in a rush, as if her very life depended on it. She was on the precipice, her body teetering on the edge of release, the tension inside her wound so tightly she thought she might snap.

"Then finish," Aemond commanded, his voice dark and soothing.

At his words, Maera groaned, her body giving in completely. Her release hit her like a tidal wave, a shattering rush of pleasure that left her breathless. She bucked against his hand, riding the waves of her climax as they crashed over her, each surge of pleasure more intense than the last. She felt herself unravel, every thought and worry fading away until she was left completely spent, her body limp and trembling in his arms.

As her breathing slowly steadied, Aemond withdrew his hand from the water, his fingers leaving her with a lingering sense of warmth and satisfaction. He pressed gentle kisses to her neck and cheek, his lips soft and tender, a contrast to the passion that had consumed them moments before. For a while, they sat there in the quiet, their bodies still entwined, the only sound in the chamber the crackling hearth and the distant crash of waves against the shore.

“Is the source reliable?”

“I am quite certain, Your Grace.”

The Queen hurried through the dim corridors of the castle, her black and green skirts rustling with each swift step. The echoes of her soft-soled shoes tapped against the cold stone floors as she weaved through the familiar halls. Her breath came quicker, not from exertion, but from the urgency with which she moved. The morning light, filtered through narrow windows, bathed the path ahead in a golden hue, though her thoughts were already in the council chamber.

Aemond had let her sleep in, stating she should rest up after their passionate indulgences of the previous night. She had risen a few hours after he had left, feeling the weight of her pregnancy as she made her way to the nursery to feed Aemara. The black dragon, Sȳndor, curled protectively near the cradle, while Aemara’s coos filled the room with warmth as she was held by mother. But the Queen’s maternal routine had been cut short when a servant, breathless and flustered, appeared at the nursery door, stammering that the King had summoned her with urgency.

Now, as she approached the great doors to the Small Council chamber, Maera could already hear the hum of conversation through the thick wood. The council members’ voices were loud, resonant, and authoritative, filled with the gravity of whatever matters they were deliberating. She paused for a fleeting moment, smoothing her skirts and collecting herself before stepping forward.

When she entered, all conversation ceased abruptly. The heavy wooden doors creaked open, and the council members, dressed in their elaborate robes of station, rose from their seats in unison, their eyes falling on her as she quickly made her way inside.

Reaching his side, Maera curtsied to her husband at the head of the table, her green eyes locking briefly with his one sharp violet one. Aemond, seated in his usual place, nodded at her in acknowledgment, the smallest hint of warmth flickering in his gaze before it was replaced by the steely mask of kingship. The gesture, brief but familiar, brought a flicker of comfort to Maera, and she moved swiftly to her seat beside him.

As she sat, so too did the members of the council, the scraping of chairs against the floor momentarily the only sound in the chamber. The room settled into a tense stillness as Maera smoothed her skirts once more, her mind already beginning to sift through the possibilities of what had demanded her urgent presence.

The Queen took a moment to scan the faces of the councilmen seated around the table, their expressions betraying far more than the quiet tension of the room.

Lord Bryndemere Tarth, the balding and sturdy Master of Ships, was practically beaming. His large hands were folded in front of him, but the twinkle in his eyes suggested he was eager for the meeting to continue. Beside him, Lord Lyonel, the Master of Coin, looked equally delighted, his Hightower features softened by a rare smile. Even Lord Larys Strong, the Master of Whispers, usually so composed and unsettling, appeared genuinely elated. His thin lips twisted into a crooked grin as his pale eyes glinted with mischief.

Maera’s gaze shifted cautiously from one man to the next. Something was amiss, and she could feel it. She turned her head toward Ser Alfred Broome, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. The sight of his broad smile only deepened her suspicion. Everyone seemed in unnaturally high spirits for such a meeting.

“What have I missed?” Maera asked, her voice carefully measured. Her gaze drifted from Ser Alfred back to Lord Bryndemere and Lord Lyonel, noting the excitement brimming just beneath the surface.

“Why is everyone so cheerful?” she pressed, her tone edged with curiosity. She kept her back straight and her expression unreadable, though the energy in the room made her uneasy.

Lord Bryndemere was the first to speak, clearly eager to relay the news. He sat up straighter and began in his typical booming voice, “Your Grace, we received word via raven. Your ships, the fleet of Morne, and the Velaryon fleet have come to blows in the Narrow Sea.”

Maera’s brow furrowed, her mind racing at the mention of her ships. “Over cargo?” she asked, her tone skeptical. The fleets clashing in the Narrow Sea wasn’t particularly unusual, but the loss of ships was always a cause for concern.

Lord Bryndemere nodded. “Yes, my Queen, arriving from Essos. Many of your ships were destroyed,” he said, his excitement barely contained. “And a few of the Velaryon ships were also sunk.”

Maera’s lips twisted into a scoff, her disbelief clear as she leaned back in her seat. “That doesn’t seem like good news, Lord Bryndemere,” she replied bluntly, crossing her arms. The loss of ships was no cause for celebration, especially not in times as dire as these. She could hear Ser Alfred Broome chuckling softly beside her. He shook his head, amusement playing across his weathered features.

“That’s not the part that has us all smiling, Your Grace,” Ser Alfred said, his voice rich with mirth.

Curious now, Maera tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she waited for the explanation. There was more to this story, something she hadn’t yet been told. She could feel the anticipation building in the room, as if the councilmen were all on the verge of revealing a long-awaited surprise.

Lord Larys rose slowly from his seat, leaning heavily on his cane, his ever-watchful eyes locked onto the Queen with an unsettling smile playing on his thin lips. Maera instinctively straightened in her chair, suppressing the unease that slithered down her spine at his gaze. He was always deliberate in his actions, and even now, his movements felt like part of a larger game.

“Lord Corlys hid news of the attack from Rhaenyra, Your Grace.” The Master of Whispers eyes gleamed with satisfaction as if relishing the thought of such a betrayal. Maera felt a chill. Lord Corlys had always been the staunchest ally of Rhaenyra, going to great lengths to acknowledge her sons by Harwin Strong as his own blood, despite the obvious truth of their parentage. His loyalty to the Blacks was unquestionable—or so it had seemed.

Beside Lord Larys, Grand Maester Vaegon, always measured and solemn, gave a small nod of confirmation. “Indeed,” he said, his voice calm but his words troubling. “It has been whispered among the Black court that Rhaenyra is slowly losing her grip on her council. Factions are forming, and trust is beginning to fray.”

Maera furrowed her brow, the pieces not quite falling into place. Corlys Velaryon had always acted in Rhaenyra’s best interest. What could have driven him to conceal such an important event from her now? And what exactly was it that had everyone here so pleased?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Aemond clearing his throat. His sharp eye glanced toward her before he spoke, his voice carrying the weight of bitter knowledge. “The old whore has grown more paranoid since the betrayal of the Dragonseeds. She sees threats everywhere, even in those she once trusted. Corlys keeping this from her has only heightened her suspicion.” He leaned forward, his elbow resting on the table as if contemplating just how far his sister had fallen.

Maera’s gaze softened, slowly beginning to understand the true gravity of the situation. Rhaenyra’s grip on power was slipping, her paranoia pushing her oldest and most loyal allies to make questionable choices, ones that might spell disaster for the Blacks.

Ser Alfred Broome, who had been quietly watching the exchange, now chimed in. “Rhaenyra’s distrust has grown so deeply that she called for the arrest of the Dragonseeds who remain loyal to her, out of fear of further betrayal.” His tone was grim, though there was a dark satisfaction in his words.

Lord Lyonel Hightower leaned forward then, adding the final piece to the puzzle. “Lord Corlys warned one of these Dragonseeds before he could be captured. The bastard fled before he could be seized, but not before Rhaenyra discovered what Corlys had done.”

The Master of Ships, leaned forward, his voice steady but carrying a note of grim satisfaction. “Lord Corlys Velaryon has been arrested for treason against Rhaenyra. His secret actions, though well-meaning in his own mind, have cost him dearly. House Velaryon… most of it, anyway, has abandoned her cause entirely. They refuse to support a Queen who imprisons their lord.”

A silence hung heavy in the room as Maera processed the weight of the revelation. The implications were staggering. For so long, Corlys Velaryon had been one of Rhaenyra’s greatest strengths, a lord with power, ships, and the legacy of Driftmark at his back. Now, Rhaenyra’s grip on him had shattered. Worse still, House Velaryon was falling away from her, leaving her without a naval presence, isolated and vulnerable. This fracture could be the final blow that turns the tide of the war.

Chatter quickly broke out among the council. They spoke eagerly, voices overlapping as they debated their next steps. Bryndemere suggested they move quickly to coax the remnants of House Velaryon to their side. Lyonel agreed, stating that the influence of Driftmark could tip the scales in their favor, especially with their naval power. Ser Alfred Broome, ever practical, raised the idea of approaching the other Dragonseeds, the ones Rhaenyra had begun to hunt down out of paranoia. If they could offer these bastards protection, they could rally them against their former Queen, turning her own dragons against her.

Yet as the conversation swirled around her, Maera remained silent, her mind focused not on the tactics, but on the satisfaction that simmered within her. She had once tried to bridge the gap between them, to approach Rhaenyra with compassion, but her attempts had been met with coldness. Now, Rhaenyra’s paranoia and inability to hold her alliances was bringing her downfall. It was a justice of sorts, and Maera couldn’t help but consider the irony of it all. Rhaenyra, who had once seemed unshakable, was now floundering, caught in the web of her own mistrust.

Her eyes flickered toward her husband. Aemond sat at the head of the table, the weight of the Conqueror’s crown resting on his brow, his expression carefully measured, though Maera knew him too well to miss the glint of satisfaction in his violet eye. He, too, saw the advantage this shift brought, the unraveling of Rhaenyra’s court. As Maera’s fingers gently squeezed his hand, Aemond’s gaze shifted to her, softening in a rare moment of warmth. He gave her a brief but genuine smile, and in that fleeting moment, they shared a silent understanding.

Wine was soon brought to the table, the dark liquid poured generously into the cups of the lords and council members upon the order of one of the more enthusiastic lords. The servants moved swiftly and silently, filling their goblets as the chatter grew lively. For a brief moment, the air lightened, and the Small Council indulged in the luxury of wine and a rare sense of celebration. A sense of victory, however small, hung in the room.

Maera, seated beside Aemond, accepted her own cup, watching as Lord Bryndemere, the Master of Ships, chuckled heartily from his seat. He leaned forward, his face flushed with wine and excitement, and declared, “At this rate, we may not even need to invade at all!” His words were met with a mixture of amusement and shock.

The King’s sharp eye turned towards Bryndemere, shooting him a stern, warning look. The message was clear—such careless optimism was not to be voiced so lightly. Lord Bryndemere quickly backtracked, his earlier confidence faltering under the King’s cold gaze. “Of course, Your Grace,” he said hastily, raising his cup in acknowledgment. “We should plan for it… naturally. But, ah, it may well be that the people of King’s Landing will oust the Black Queen themselves before we even arrive. Her own subjects could turn on her, weary of her rule.”

Maera couldn’t help but smile at the thought. The idea of no invasion, of avoiding yet another brutal battle, was a hopeful one. Countless lives spared, bloodshed avoided. It was a dream she often harbored, despite the brutal reality of the war they waged. The thought that perhaps, just perhaps, peace might come without further blood might be naive, but it filled her heart with quiet joy nonetheless.

However, the sudden, sharp banging of a cane on the stone floor cut through the chatter like a blade. The sound echoed through the chamber, and all eyes turned toward the source—Lord Larys Strong, his cane resting heavily on the floor as he cleared his throat. His sneer was unmistakable as he eyed Lord Bryndemere, his lips curling with disdain. “Be that as it may,” Larys drawled, his tone dripping with condescension, “there is still one thing that keeps the people with her.”

A pause hung in the air as all listened to the man known for his cunning. Larys’s eyes gleamed as he added, “The succession.” His voice was low, but it carried the weight of undeniable truth.

The room fell into a tense silence, the earlier celebratory mood evaporating like mist under the sun. The reminder of Rhaenyra’s strength—her sons—hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the optimism that had filled the chamber moments before. The unspoken truth was clear: as long as Rhaenyra had her sons, her claim held weight. It was an anchor for those still loyal to the Black Queen, no matter how fractured her court had become.

Lord Lyonel Hightower was the first to break the uneasy quiet. His voice rang out with conviction, a tone he often used when reminding the council of the Green’s own strengths. “His Grace, King Aemond, has his successor,” Lord Lyonel declared, nodding towards Aemond. “Prince Daeron.”

For a moment, the room seemed to settle, but the calm was quickly shattered by a derisive scoff from the corner of the room, where the Master of Whispers, Lord Larys Strong, leaned forward on his cane, eyes glinting with malice.

“And yet,” Larys drawled, “the young Prince has been wed for years… and still no son. No heir of his own.” The words were like venom, seeping into the minds of the council. The implication was clear, and it hung heavily in the air.

Maera’s pulse quickened. She felt the weight of Larys’s pointed words settle over her like a heavy cloak. Though he hadn’t said it outright, everyone in the room knew the true target of his comment—her. The Queen had given Aemond a daughter, Aemara, a sweet, beautiful girl. But not a son. And in a world like theirs, where lineage and sons were the pillars of power, her perceived failure was a weakness in the eyes of many.

A part of Maera couldn’t deny that Larys was right, cruel as his words were. The Greens would appear vulnerable if they failed to secure a strong line of Targaryen male heirs. The war they fought now was for their family’s future, for the right to rule for generations to come. Without heirs, their cause would crumble like sand in a storm.

Larys continued, his voice slippery and full of knowing malice. “Rhaenyra, on the other hand, has three sons. Two of whom the realm still believes to be alive.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, his one eye flashing with anger. “Her heir is a bastard,” he snapped, his voice sharp and dangerous. He would not let the insult against his wife stand uncontested.

But Larys was unperturbed by the King’s fury, as if Aemond’s rage was little more than an expected part of their dance. “Perhaps,” he replied coolly, “but that has not stopped the people from acknowledging him as their future king. Blood may tell the truth, but perception rules the realm. And as it stands, the people still see Joffrey as Rhaenyra’s legitimate heir, bastard or not.”

The tension in the room crackled, and though Aemond’s defense of her was swift and fierce, Larys’s words gnawed at her mind. She could feel the eyes of the council upon her, the weight of her duty pressing down even more than before. Sons… it always came down to sons.

As Larys Strong’s smirk curled across his face, Maera felt her temper flare. The smug, mocking expression ignited a storm within her, her fury simmering just beneath the surface. Her hands clenched into tight fists, the fabric of her green and black skirts twisting in her grasp as she struggled to maintain her composure. But when Larys, with his usual air of condescension, brazenly declared, “And since our King is without an heir…” the last of her patience snapped.

The sound of Maera’s fists slamming down onto the table rang out through the chamber like a thunderclap. The force of it startled the council, their conversation halting immediately, leaving only the sharp echo reverberating against the stone walls. Silence enveloped the room. All eyes turned to the Queen, her presence commanding as she slowly, yet gracefully, rose from her seat.

Her green eyes blazed with fury as she leveled a cold, stern gaze at Larys. “The King,” she began, her voice steady and sharp, “has his heir, my Lord.”

A ripple of confusion swept through the room. The councilmen exchanged bewildered glances, muttering amongst themselves, their faces a mixture of surprise and disbelief. Aemond, too, remained still, his attention focused entirely on his wife, his eye narrowing slightly in curiosity.

And then, with a measured calm that belied the storm of emotions within her, Maera revealed the truth that had been weighing on her heart. “And he resides within me,” she declared, her voice clear and firm, a sharp contrast to the soft murmurs that had filled the room moments before.

Gasps erupted from the councilmen, shock flashing across their faces. One by one, they scrambled to their feet, bowing deeply in respect. The air in the room changed, the energy of doubt and uncertainty now replaced with awe and reverence. They had been hungering for news of an heir, a Targaryen son who would solidify their cause—and now it seemed that the answer to their prayers was already on the horizon.

The Queen, standing tall amidst the chaos, allowed herself a moment of satisfaction as she felt the weight of their gazes. But her focus remained on Aemond. Slowly, she turned her head towards him, her eyes meeting his. For a moment, time seemed to stretch, and she saw the shock flicker across his usually stoic face. His single violet eye, wide with disbelief, held hers in a silent exchange.

She reached for his arm, gently pulling his hand toward her. She rested it on her stomach, her touch tender but firm. “I found out yesterday,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, meant only for him.

Aemond’s gaze softened as he looked down at her, his hand splayed across her abdomen. His usually composed expression shifted as the weight of her words sank in. His eye flicked toward the rest of the room, searching for confirmation. When he found Grand Maester Vaegon, the older man gave a small nod, accompanied by a knowing smile, verifying the Queen’s news.

Aemond let out a breathless laugh, more of a gasp, full of astonishment and joy. Stepping forward, he cupped the back of Maera’s head, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there in a rare moment of vulnerability. When he pulled back, his violet eye gleamed with pride as he turned to address the council.

“The Queen is carrying our future,” he announced, his voice ringing with authority. The councilmen, still buzzing from the earlier revelation, murmured in agreement, nodding their heads. Maera caught Lord Larys shifting uncomfortably, his smirk wiped away, his gaze averted. She couldn’t help but smirk herself, savoring the moment. He stood like a dog with his tail between his legs, silenced for now.

Once the councilmen returned to their seats, Aemond remained standing, his regal presence filling the room. “We must use this time,” he declared, his tone sharpening, “to take full advantage of Rhaenyra’s weakness. Her allies can be swayed, and her paranoia will drive her to ruin. If we are patient, she will undo herself in the Capital.”

Maera nodded in agreement, her eyes meeting her husband’s. His smile returned, not just for her, but for the future they now shared. “By the time our son is born,” Aemond continued, his voice filled with certainty, “the Iron Throne will be his to claim.”

Notes: ok so now we’re moving onto part three and the final part of the series! Can’t believe we’re nearly there! There’s a time skip of about 4 months when we begin chapter 103 🖤

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Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

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