#children of the red king timeline

[oofouchstovehot]

IDEA:

Immortal Phantom au x DC Crossover wherein Batman and Danny became buddies early on in Bruce's vigilante career. Bruce was doing some impromptu vigilante history and discovered that Phantom was the first known case of the modern Superhero, paid a visit to Amity, and they become decent friends.

Of course, between Danny's schedule, Bruce's weird attachment style, Batman adopting 8, 20, 345 children and Phantom becoming the ghost king, they don't have a lot of time to catch up. Naturally, none of Bruce's kids have a single clue who Phantom is or why he talks to Batman, The Dark Knight, like a Fellow Teen and Bruce just responds- normally? to things that would get anyone a death glare for miles.

Possible chances for them to meet up again, some that could coexist👀:

Danny wants Batman to show up to his coronation

Bruce realises that Danny might know something about the pits (either right away or well after Red Hood's been established) and goes to him for help (WOW)

Bruce still keeps tabs on amity, in a timeline where all Danny's friends still eventually die Dan Style, Bruce learns about this and decides to pay an overdue visit for Emotional Support.

Danny comes to Bruce for help hiding from the GiW/His Parents/Vlad

#danny phantom #dpxdc #this is going in the draft pit #danny fenton #batman

[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐈𝐈

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, Aegon II is creepy

Notes: someone told me they were waiting for part 2  🥹 btw I hate the show's timeline as a book reader because it makes absolutely no sense and I can't write properly, halfway through this I literally have decided to throw it away and run with what my heart tells me, otherwise I'll combust

>When your father came back from the war of the stepstones in 115 a.c, newly wed to Laena Velaryon, you didn't think anything was going to change, right?

>You missed the Vale, you didn't like seeing your father and Rhea fighting, but she was so kind, just like your wet nurse, she wasn't here in the castle either

>But there was a lot of new people here, and you liked them all, since they're all your family, it is only natural you'd love them all, they often say they love you too

>When the news of Rhea's death and Daemon's nuptials came, almost arriving together, it sparked a sense of empathy and compassion throughout the red keep

>All of the Targaryens were already too "heedful" with your care, declaring you'd be cared for only by family, and in the extraordinary case no one was around, there was two very meticulously chosen handmaidens who were to watch over you until a family member was available

>This measure was whispered from Otto Hightower to king Viserys, this passed as a safety measure, saying that because of your origins, you were at risk, setting the infamous "princess of Flea Bottom" title as precedent to say you were not welcomed by everyone, and therefore in danger (even if everyone who was even rumoured to be against your stay in the castle, had already been "taken care of"). Of course no one objected

>This reawoke an old rivalry between Rhaenyra and Alicent, old playmates with unspoken grudges, now desperate to prove they could be a better, more adequate influence in your life

>Willfully ignoring your young age, and the fact you'll likely forget half of whatever they say by the time you're ten, what matter is that even when Daemon takes you away, you'll be able to remember one of them with particular fondness

>It was the truth, a hard and bitter truth, that you'd have to eventually leave, everyone looking for excuses to give to Daemon once he arrived, in order to keep you around longer, maybe indefinitely

>Alicent felt uneasy when thinking of stealing you away from your sire, as much as she disliked Daemon, and believed you'd be much better off being raised as hers, along with her children, you clearly loved him, you drew pictures and saved "treasures" to give to him once he returned

>You also used to ask about Rhea, no one had the heart to tell you, but still fearing the crude words your father would use to tell you of her passing, after all, Rhea was still "his bronze bitch". Finally, it was Viserys who had to break the news to you, he was considerate and comforting, even explaining how his parents and former wife passed away as well, and how he still carries them in his heart

>You lacked the proper cognitive development to fully process it, but it made you sad you were never to see Rhea again, this made you even closer to Viserys

>Alicent wondered if there was a possibility of offering one of his son's hands, if that would make you stay, she certainly wouldn't be displeased to have as a daughter in law, Rhaenyra did the same, after all, wasn't the heir to the iron throne a much better match?

>But the day finally came, where you had to leave

>Your father forsook his crown as King of the narrow sea to Viserys, who humorously put the crown on your little head, and named you princess of the narrow sea

>With the crown falling to your forehead due to its size, you hugged your father as soon as you saw him, with giggles and words of affection, as much as it endeared them, it broke everyone's heart to remember how your time in the red keep was nothing but extraordinary. Viserys thanked the seven no one could hear his thoughts, it would be improper for a king to wish for war, just to keep his baby niece around

>This moment created a long string of creative bards singing about Y/N Targaryen, princess of the narrow sea, queen of hearts

>It was finally time for you to go to leave, Laena was ecstatic to take you with her after meeting you for the first time, but she was a smart girl and noticed she was taking away something very precious

>But celebrations had passed and it was time to go

>You lived in Pentos for the next 10 years of your life, with your father, step-mother and little sisters, Rhaena and Baela

>Daemon was not so happy to take you to King's Landing for different events, however, Laena said it was good for you to be around your cousins and nephews, good for the twins as well

>And she said that since you had your own dragon, it's best to just, it'd be better for you to not feel trapped, otherwise one day you'll just get on dragonback and do as you please

>Daemon did not like the idea of you ever leaving or having enough independence to just hop on a dragon and leave, but he understood his wife was right

>When Laena lightheartedly told the prince of Pentos that he must only ask if he wished to marry one of the girls, Daemon grimaced in his classic unsubtle fashion

>You and your sisters were excitedly ogling the new dragon egg that was meant for your sibling

>One night, Rhaena came to your room looking for comfort, she feared her new little brother or sister would have a great dragon like Vhagar, or swift as Moondancer and then she'd be left alone

>You had Dagahrion, and Baela had Moondancer, both dragons were bonded with you since birth, but Rhaena's died shortly after hatching. She was given another egg, that sadly had not even hatched

>According to the dragonkeepers, Dagahrion still needed a little more time before you could safely ride, and Moondancer had a long way to go.

>Dagahrion and Moondancer were polar opposites, where Moondancer was small, slender and agile, with lightly coloured pale sage green scales and pearl horns, Dagahrion was growing larger by the day, heavy and mighty, with black scales that shone like a green tourmaline in the sun, and dark laurel colored horns. The dragons would often play together, and were called "the greyhound and the mastiff"

>Rhaena feared her bond with you would be outshined by the future races and sky stunts you and Baela would share. And when Aemond took Vhagar, it felt even worse

>After Laena's death, you had lost a mother again. You deeply mourned her, but you felt a different kind of sadness watching Rhaenys coddle the girls in the funeral, and Corlys telling Lucerys he'd be the lord of Driftmark. Rhaenys had you on her embrace as well, but the looks on you had brought a bitter truth to your attention, one that was nonexistent in Pentos, and swept under the rug in King's Landing. You were a bastard. The whimsical melodies about the princess of the narrow sea, had made you forget the princess was born illegitimate

>You were now 13, and the stares and whispers your family shielded you from, were words much easier to put together, faces much easier to see

>The lords and ladies gossiped when everyone ran to hug you before the true orphans, you felt guilty

>"Lady Laena leaves two true-born daughters on the coast" said Vaemon. You smiled through the pain

>Your father started laughing to try and shut him up, it worked

>It also pained you to reunite with your beloved playmates, and see Aegon, your azantys, who you admired, now turned into a creep. He hugged you longer than he did with anyone else, but his hands lingered in a way you couldn't enjoy

>Lucerys and Jacaerys were there with you and your sisters, just like you could see the look thrown at you, you could see them being thrown the way of the Velaryon brothers. You didn't talk much, but you enjoyed their company

>Aemond tried to latch onto you and take you to where his family was, but after some time you had to return to your sisters, he didn't like that

>Helaena was just like you remembered her, she was still ever so gentle and had so many things to tell you about her bugs

>But some of her words were now cryptic to you

>"My dear Y/N, dragon in the flesh, do not believe the dragons in thread" she kept repeating, not even looking at you

>You slept in the room that was meant for your father, he hadn't returned yet. You slept in the second bed in that room rather than with the other children, you wanted to cry, but wanted to appear strong for your sisters, so you preferred to be away for the night

>However, the ruckus woke you up, Aemond stole Vhagar, and Lucerys made him lose an eye

>Jacaerys told you about the "hilarious" time they gave Aemond a pig, you silently reprimanded them, you didn't find it funny, but to go and steal Rhaena's last connection to her mother?

>Vhagar was not a heirloom, not a thing, but Rhaena deserved a chance to try to tame her before others did

>You were upset, however tried to stay at Aemond's side, after all, he was the one who lost an eye

>At least until you heard your nephew. "He called us bastards", you looked at him with a sad, disappointed expression before completely (and literally) turning your back on him to go console your sisters

>Rhaena was the most affected, her connection to her late mother, and to her sisters, was stolen by Aemond. In the moment, she feared Aemond would steal you away too, you seemed to be fond of him, and the queen would often tell stories of how close you were with her children. Losing you to Baela was one thing, she was her twin, and you would be within reach, but Aemond?

>Aemond was true to his words when he said gaining a dragon was worth losing an eye

>But he wasn't so sure it was worth losing you

#yandere daemon targaryen #yandere hotd #hotd x reader #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere targaryens #yandere aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader

[radiance1]

Pariah Dark. Ghost King. Master of War. Tyrant. The Breaker of Worlds.

Currently found himself... perplexed and at a loss.

He had assumed he would never be free once more, the one-time his punishment was cut short he wrote it off as the mistake it was. A pitiful fool who believed he could claim his crown from his prison without consequences.

The second time.

Well.

He would not have thought himself to be so lucky, assuming that no other would be foolish enough to free him once more.

He most likely should have learned not to assume a lot of things, when one is more than acquainted with the Master of Time. There was a lot he would do and did for the other before his eternal rest, and a lot of things he could've wrapped his mind around, found out the reason for, even so long as he had the clues no doubt left by Time.

But this.

This.

He was not exactly sure what his expression was, he could not even decide what exactly he was feeling, even. "Dearly belo-" Pariah Dark hid his mistake by clearing his throat. "Master of Time, what exactly do you intend for me to do with... these."

'These' referred to the small beasts currently amusing themselves on his body. A pitch-black chick with red eyes currently nesting in his hair, a snake trying to loop itself-and failing at looping- itself around his neck, a puppy currently resting on his arm and a cub currenting trying to get said puppy's attention only to be zapped away by the pup's foot.

Yes.

Zapped.

Despite this utterly befuddling situation, he was amused by it nonetheless.

"Your parole," The Master of Time said, all-knowing smile on his face. "Surely you would know what to do with children, would you not?"

Pariah Dark blinked. "What in the infinite is a parole?" Pariah tasted the word on his tongue, as if it was foreign to him. And, well. It was. "And what, exactly, would that have to do with children?"

The Master of Time's smile eased into faint amusement, as if aware of some joke the king himself was not.

Which happened more often than not, actually.

"Take good care of these children, and you shall be released from eternal sleep." He said, as if that explained everything. But Pariah Dark was staring at him in clear and undisguised puzzlement.

He then raised an eyebrow. "You would leave me alone with children? Truly? With no qualms?"

The personification of Time nodded, and Pariah could blink slowly, as if he had trouble wrapping his head around this. "Dearly beloved, surely you would not think that this-" If Clockwork noticed his slip of the tongue, then he didn't point it out as Pariah Dark continued. "Would be the best of ideas, no? Surely, you should be worrying for their safety."

Clockwork's eyes filled with mirth as he inclined his head slightly. "Well, do you currently hold any thoughts of harming these children?"

Pariah Dark's face gave away his faint confusion. "Not particularly, no."

"Then that is that." The ancient ghost nodded, as if everything was already decided and done as Pariah could only stare at him in unsurprised exasperation before shaking his head.

Perhaps, he should have expected this.

"The one currently making a nest of your hair goes by Vlad, the Pheonix King." Clockwork pointed his staff to the chick in question, who squinted open an eye before nestling further into the king's hair. He then pointed to the snake. "The one currently trying to strangle you, is Danny. Our prince as well as what humans would call an eastern dragon."

The way Clockwork pronounced our had Pariah feeling like it held another meaning and not just him being known as the prince.

Was there something he was not aware of...?

The staff then pointed to the pup dozing off in his arms. "That one," Clockwork said with faint amusement. "Goes by Dan, a fusion between the phoenix and dragon resulted in his creation and he soon became his own entity after becoming secluded from his timeline after its erasure." He said this casually, as if it weren't something that would cause questions. "He is also a Raiju."

How a bird and snake gave way to dog, Pariah does not know.

The staff then pointed to the last child in his arms, trying to bother Dan and being kicked away and zapped for its efforts. "That is Dani, formally Danielle. She is a Mishipeshu who is the only successful clone of the phoenix and dragon, making her our technical princess."

Again, the emphasis of our left Pariah feeling like there was something he should know. A missing piece to a puzzle he didn't even know he had started.

"You said this one was a king, correct?" Pariah asked, shifting around his arms to better support the pup and cub. "Would the phoenix's not take offense to me of all people being the one to raise their ruler?" As soon as the words left his tongue did he remember who exactly he was talking to.

He was met with a vicious smile, one that he did not see until the days of yore. His non-existent heart skipped a beat.

"Well, if they would like to voice their... displeasure." The Master of Time practically purred that sentence out, and Pariah felt something odd shift inside him. "Then they are surely allowed to do so."

Pariah grunted, silent for a few moments. Clockwork moved towards him in that time, and Pariah stood still, only tracking the ghost with his eyes. "I am quite certain you would make a wonderful father, dear-"

Excuse him, dear..?

"-So why not prove me right as you always have, hm?" Pariah Dark blinked, opening his mouth to speak before his mind screeched to a halt as he felt a pair of lips upon his own before they moved away in the next moment.

A ghost of a kiss.

"Now, run along now why don't you." Clockwork had a mischievous glint in his eyes, before Pariah found himself surrounded by a wide pasture, spanning as far as his eyes could see (and he could see very far) and at the end a forest with a house behind him.

But he could not react, even as he felt pecks upon his head, a bite at his ear and most surely the scratching of claws against his form.

His hair burst into green flames as he stood stalk still.

#danny phantom #phoenix vlad #dragon danny #raiju dan #Mishipeshu dani #dp dark ages #darkages #Pariah Dark wasn't taking the hint so Clockwork decided to step it up a notch #Unfortunately (for Pariah and everyone else) that just left the man in bluescreen mode #Not that it inconvenienced Clockwork because he's finds it amusing #Feared king of the Infinite rendered useless with a mere kiss #Honestly this might be the only ship I actively ship in this fandom lmao. #Felt like writing and I wanted another mythology beast idea so yea #I did this #Was supposed to dcxdp but Meh it'll be fine as is :3 #Right the phoenix's don't really take Vlad's 'situation' pleasantly but it's not like they could just forcefully take him back into their #custody lmao #Right none of the quartet really remember their past so they're genuine babies now #Blame Clockwork for that one really #Aight better stop yappin now #Gabye

[athingofvikings]

Two More Stalkers

So I'm drafting this post on October 19, 2022, hoping that I won't have to use it, but getting it set up as a contingency. Just in case.

Lots of screenshots under the cut, but TL;DR:

I have two stalkers who feel entitled to my work and writing, and have been stalking me because I didn't write their historical blorbos to their personal satisfaction and because I haven't written queer characters to their exacting specifications (specifically, they want what amount to Gold Star Lesbians with modern-style adopted children). In the course of their stalking, they have made a hate-blog specifically to target me with insults, and when that failed to get a response, escalated to making a new AO3 account specifically to write hatefic of my work and "gift" it to me.

If you see this post having gone live, I ask you to please review it and reblog it, because I am preparing this contingency in case they escalate to the point of trying to publicly defame me, and if I've hit "post", that means they're actively trying to get people to hate me.

So, without further ado...

Here are screenshots of their intro posts (still available on my Discord server if anyone wishes to see the evidence). Essentially, they came because of their interest in the historical King Macbeth and the mid-11th century, which is where and when my story, A Thing Of Vikings, is set. The basic concept of the story is that the first How To Train Your Dragon film is dropped into Real Life history in the 1040s AD in the Scottish islands, and events ripple out from there, changing history as a result.

Some red flags began to wave in regards to these two, as nessie wanted to know what the status of his historical blorbos would be in my writing, and did not take it well that they would either A) be dead, B) be reduced to insignificance by changes in the historical timeline, C) be someplace else, or D) not exist at all, due to changes in the timeline. He ended up quietly leaving after the following discussion:

He then left a few days later on Aug 28th.

Fast forward to October 2nd.

the threat of tortellini starts a discussion as follows:

At the end of this exchange, the threat of tortellini leaves the ATOV Discord server. To sum up the above, they wanted for me to jettison the core conceit of a piece of writing that I have been working on for six years because they wished to see specific developments catering to their personal desires happen in the text. In short, "Screw your writing integrity, I want you to write it for meeeee!" and then stormed off the server when they were told no.

Two hours later, I am followed by @courtlycringe. Now, I vet my followers for personal safety reasons, due to having experienced harassment and stalking in the past, and immediately saw that this new follower was... unique.

For obvious reasons, I promptly blocked the two people in the notes for these posts, as well as the courtlycringe blog itself. The next morning, October 3rd, I remembered nessie's fixation, and promptly pulled on the threads with the intro posts, putting together that @themischiefoftad is the threat of tortellini and that @malcolm--of--scotland is nessie. (Note the dates on the posts, too; Nessie had this hate blog already going before his friend stormed off of the server)

Confirmation came after a few of my friends interacted with them:

(Although it should be noted that I don't believe that courtlycringe is/was run by anyone other than my two stalkers, given the timeline).

I do a little more work, track down their AO3 accounts, and block them. I expected that to be the end of it.

It wasn't.

In short, these two made a new AO3 account, MillieMilkTea, and wrote some extremely nasty hatefic using my characters and targeting my work. The Necessary Components For The Fall Of An Empire is a giant middle finger to me personally, with my male main characters being brutally and graphically murdered by the female characters (especially their personal blorbos) and having everyone cheering for the deaths, and the female characters going off to be good pure lesbians. Nothing more and nothing less.

I declined the "gift", and have reported them to AO3 Abuse as of the writing of this post on Oct 19.

However, given that they have written thirty-three thousand words of targeted hatefic, likely just in the past few weeks (the account itself was created Oct 11), I am sure that they will continue to escalate. I will keep this post updated and ready to post in case they shift from targeted harassment to defamation and libel.

#and I had to pull the trigger on it #sigh

[fleetingcalypso]

Even children can act as Kings, even Kings can act as children.

≋ There is a certain joy in acting childish with one's lover at times. Far too often with time we become accustomed to a routine and abandon that carefreeness. Play harmless pranks on your beloveds, it is worthy if only to hear their laugh, see their smile lines and their eye crinkle.≋

≋ Cardan Greenbriar x Jude Duarte ≋

≋ Word count: 1350 words.

≋ CW: Mentions of alcohol. This is set sometime after Queen of Nothing, nowhere specific in the timeline, just a dip into Cardan and Jude's married life.

“Quit your squirming and drink this.” Jude’s ever present frown is noticeable even just by the tone of her voice, “I’d rather not have to pry your lips open, pour tea down your throat and risk staining these pristine sheets.” She was met just with an amused hum, coming from the bump currently occupying the High King’s bed, unruly raven strands of hair stand out against the blankets. “Your aim is far too perfect to ever miss my lips, sweetest joy I’ve ever known.” His muffled voice fails to hide the saccharine honey dripping from his words, in fact it did nothing to dissuade her from the matter at hand: make Cardan drink a hot tea to facilitate his return to sobriety. 

Brown eyes roll in annoyance and her free hand itches to throw the covers off his body, pin him to the bed and make him listen to her, but knowing him he’d find no lesson nor punishment from it, only pleasure. “You’ll find that flattery rarely ever is a way to change my mind, Cardan. I won’t repeat myself, sit up and drink.” Oh, how he loves that sliver of a threat in her voice. Reluctantly his form emerges from his burrow, with sluggish movements and a low groan that sounds anything but dignified. He’s sitting up at last, but the worst is yet to come: the herbal tea residing in the golden goblet Jude holds needs to be drank by his royal lips, and if he’s so kindly complied with sitting up, she can only imagine how much the High King is going to whine before he takes even the smallest of sips. To her surprise no whine comes, instead, as Cardan is greeted by a scowling face -of which he is too busy admiring pouty soft lips he knows taste like a golden sunset- Jude is greeted with rosy cheeks,a glazed gaze veiling a trickster’s twinkle and the smallest peek of pearly white teeth biting down on a bottom lip that is still damp with what is most likely faerie wine. For what feels like forever, but very well could have been only a second, the only movement in the room is midnight eyes running across all of Jude’s features, drinking her in like she was the sweetest of inebriants, resting at the very bottom of a bottle, swirling around in a hurricane of red at the slightest movement of his hand. “Every time I look at you, wife, you always look more beautiful than the last. And when I blink, and my eyes are shut, that’s when the magic happens, I can still spot you imprinted in the darkness. That’s never enough for my greedy heart, though, lucky for me when light comes back, you’re still there. You don’t disappear when the dark fades. You never do.” There are the words of a drunk, Jude needs to remind herself: a drunk who is very much in love with her, a drunk who married her and fought against all odds to forever keep her by his side, a drunk who is the High King of Elfhame and who rules on , but a drunk nonetheless. A foolish enamored fae who thinks he can get out of sobriety with the allure of a few sweet words.  No one could be this adoring to another living being, she’s sure of it, he seems to wholly be the contradiction to each and every one of her assumptions about the world. The way his words don’t slur almost turns her into a helpless victim to his charm. Almost. “Drink, Cardan.” Not even a single droplet of tea accidentally rolls down the goblet when she taps the edge of it against his bottom lip. Another hum escapes him as his eyes narrow, maybe the scent of sweet herbs swirled together delights him, or maybe, just maybe it’s her being too flustered to say anything that makes his heart sing.

“This is what I awake for, each day of my lowly life,” he says, his voice swirling in the air like a glamour as his long, rings-clad fingers graze hers while wrapping around the cup, “To hear you say my name, just like that. You make it sound like a curse and a blessing, all at once.” 

“Cardan,” she insists he stops talking and begins drinking. After another moment of admiring her, the corner of his lips curls upwards, he takes just a small sip, barely enough liquid makes it into the warmth of his mouth to be considered one. “Done.” His voice is a level of low she’s heard only a handful of times before. 

The scoff that leaves her is almost comedic, he doesn’t miss a second before his voice from low becomes a purr from the back of his throat, “I’ve done it, my love. Shouldn’t I be rewarded?” Jude’s fingers softly tilt his head up, she should have seen this coming. “You’ll get your reward when you drink all of your tea, you sly, cunning thing.”

“You’re not lying to me, are you?” He breathes.

“You could always find out.” 

“I don’t need to. I know you’re not lying,” The goblet slips out of his hand and hits the floor with a clunk after he chugs what is probably the sweetest herbal tea ever created. A rivulet descends down his chin and he does not bother to wipe it.

Her world and its views shift when Cardan pulls her onto the bed, next to him with a swift motion. “Reward me, now.” He murmurs, his hand cupping the back of her head, fingers threading through brown locks. He doesn’t have to wait much, she’s eager to give him his prize just as much as he’s eager to receive it. 

Their lips meet in the middle first in a soft kiss, until it evolves and it becomes difficult to ascertain where Jude ends and where Cardan begins. His knee nestles itself between her thighs, her hands slide into his unbuttoned shirt, their breaths are entangled as one. 

“I love watching you fight,” he sighs against her neck, “Even if it’s against me. Especially if it’s against me.” His fingers draw invisible, shapeless figures on her back, sending shivers down her spine, they’re still clothed but when he holds her like this she can’t help but feel naked, completely and utterly naked. 

Their glistening lips meet one last time before Cardan’s hand slides down to intertwine his fingers with hers, “It was worth it.” One slightly confused look from his human goddess prompts him to elaborate, “Having to drink that horrendously sweet tea for the second time. It was worth it, if it got you to look at me the way you do.”

“Second time?” Jude sits up, her head tilts in an even deeper confusion, this time whirling with a blossom of confusion that quickly shifts into annoyance once it clicks. 

His laugh echoes in the room, “Liliver all but forced it down my throat a couple hours ago as you threatened to do, just now. While her… quite intimidating ways have worked on me, I was curious to see how you’d convince me. As it turns out, not even my darling wife can unmask my facade when she’s busy worrying about me.” 

Satisfaction tastes sweet, it tastes even sweeter when a soft pillow hits him a number of times, knowing he was able to trick his quick-witted Jude and that she is retaliating with the one thing she finds comfort in: violence, although a softer, more sensible version of it, is a feeling he’ll never grow tired of. To Jude’s dissatisfaction Cardan’s laugh only grows louder and more melodic.

It’s a bright, warm summer’s day in Elfhame. From Insmire, to Insmoor and Insweal no one has any idea that the High King and the High Queen are busy having a pillow fight in the privacy of their bedroom, not a soul would suspect that just for a moment their monarchs are playing like children, keeping secrets from the world like teens and living their love like grown ups.

#fleetingcalypso #calypsodaydreams #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #jude x cardan #jurdan #the cruel prince #the folk of the air

[dannyphantom1234]

Reborn as Dan Phantom.

A fan of the show is reborn as Dan, the evil version of Danny just as he was created— but what no one knew was a fangirl had taken over the body and knew just what to do to help her family that would suffer what she just went through unless she did something to help. So— she creeped towards Clockwork, stole the time medallion, went to the timeline of the original, and immediately took over as big brother figure to help these poor children from suffering the future they would have to endure alone without adult supervision.

She— now he— didn’t care for gender, and just wanted to help and protect his new(ish) family from bad people. What he didn’t know was he was also thrown alongside the dc universe, which was an awesome discovery on his part later on.

Dan— or Dante— as he wished to be called, came to the group with sorrow in his heart as he explained what would happen in the future if Danny cheated on his test, not that it was anyone’s fault but fates. He explained how no one was at fault and it could all be avoided if he could help it.

He took over the ghost fights, and had a long talk with Clockwork about what would happen and his real purpose for being there.

His original timeline was obviously erased, and the only reason he survived was because of the medallion, so later he had to go through ghost magic and make himself his own person, gained a whole butt load of tattoos intertwined with ghost time magic and becomes the next king of the infinite realms after defeating the old guy easily after seeing him beat up his little bro.

Dante became king instead of Danny and took over all the overloaded paperwork along the way.

What he didn’t know, was that he would be summoned because of his status. He really thought the fan fictions were just exaggerating what would happen if he was ever given the position and power. Well, it was all true from what he read.

(I’m making this a Dante/King Phantom x Jason Todd/Red Hood).

He made an actual legal identity for himself with the help of Technus and Tucker, who became better pals after they set aside the fact that they attacked each other at some point or another.

Danny became a little brother to him, Jazz became his little sister who likes to treat him as if he were still Danny at times, and Danielle became his daughter.

Dante legally adopted Dani after they got his papers in order, and made her an identity as well. Elle was much younger than he remembered, but then again, she was deaged recently and just came back into contact with the group, who couldn’t take care of her because they were still children as well.

Vlad was still a little evil but leveled out after a huge diabolical involving Maddie, their so called mother.

Madeline Fenton had thought her son and daughter conspired with the ghosts and attacked them in their own home, Danny was greatly injured with multiple blast wounds and Jazz suffered a concussion while trying to push him out of the target zones.

Jack had football tackled Madeline and the rest was history.

Vlad had fallen out of love with her after seeing what she did to her own children, and instead got his head out of his butt and realized he was in love with Jack all along.

Jack divorced Madeline, took custody of his kids and decided they should move, all while Vlad made plans to take down GIW with Team Phantom.

Jack and Vlad met him and decided to emotionally adopt Dante as well in their messed up family.

Dante got a job as a mechanic and started his own business in Gotham. Very cliche from all the fanfics he read in his past life but he wanted to do something he knew and loved. He loved fixing things and his side job as the king of the infinite realms was basically being like a father to ghost children while scolding those who thought it was a good idea to attack innocent mortals.

He mainly spent his time raising Danielle. Giving her everything she deserves and making her happy now that his family was safe.

He was randomly summoned by the Justice League who were ready to full on attack him until they saw him reading to his child, not realizing he was summoned until someone cleared their throat. He was literally in his own little bubble, reading his two year old daughter a storybook while holding her against his chest as he floated above the ground, laid back in a relaxed position.

How it would go:

I looked up from the book after feeling a sudden shift in my surroundings, seeing multiple very brightly dressed people in front of me. I glared, shifting completely into my ghost king form while holding my daughter close to my chest. The storybook I was reading had disappeared into a pocket dimension for later, as I had to deal with this madness.

“Who in their right minds would summon the Ghost King? I literally burnt all those summoning books to ash.” I grumbled, and looked down to see Elle had slightly woken up at the sound of my deep voice.

“Dada?” She mumbled, rubbing her right eye as she sat up from my chest.

“It’s alright, Elle,” I rumbled, kissing her forehead as she plopped back down to take her nap again at my reassurance. “We can finish reading time later today.” I murmured to her as she went back to snoozing.

“What do you want, mortals?” I asked nonchalantly.

“Why does the ghost king have a child? And how in the hell are you not attacking us as the books state?” Zatanna asked, looking on at me in shock.

“You willingly want to be attacked after summoning me? That’s idiotic. “ I state, looking bored with their conversation. I still held Elle close, not answering their questions about my child just yet.

“No, a bloody idiot summoned you just as we defeated him as a last defense!” Constantine spat out, looking hysterical.

“Well, sorry to break the news, coward, but the last king was defeated by me after trying to take over the world, he is now locked away in forever sleep until we can find a way to get rid of him completely.” I explained to the coward looking at me in shock on the ground, bruises across his face and the usual weird looking villain costume on him.

I looked around for a quick second before stopping at the Batfam. Who were all here in a more relaxed formation seeing a child in my arms. My favorite fandom family in my last life.

I looked them over before spotting the Red Hood, my celebrity crush I had on him was no secret to my family, but they had no room to judge for themselves.

His aura admitted contaminated ectoplasm, and I knew I had to heal him sometime in the future.

“May I ask what your goals are? And who is this child?” Superman spoke up after a moment of digesting my information about my new position.

“I protect both living and the undead. I don’t have a world ending goal in mind, just to raise my daughter and give her the life she deserves.” I said, looking down at my daughter with a small smile that would be unnoticeable to most.

I looked back up to see the large group had softened at my words and I was about to ask a question about Red Hood, when my daughter suddenly decided this was taking too long and too much noise for her to take a nap.

“Dada! Where puppy?” She demanded answers, smacking the side of my face with her chubby hands, as I floated there, unmoving with an emotionless face towards the group.

“Cujo is with the twerp, remember? He will come by later for playtime.” I answered, which was slightly muffled as she squished my cheeks together and smiled at me happily.

“Dada! Fishh—“ she squealed out, looking happy with herself as she giggled at my face.

“You gremlin—“ I muttered out, tickling her sides as she squeaked, her flying out of my arms and turning into her young ghost form, looking ready to play.

“Playtime?” She asked, bouncing a little in the air, clapping her hands a little.

“Not yet, blob ghost. We need to head back home for snack time.” I explained, crossing my arms as she pouted, my arm muscles bulged a bit as I crossed them, and I still always forget the fact that I’m taller than most, alongside bigger. In my past life, I was a stick of a girl that had spaghetti arms, much different for sure.

Her pouting turned into the famous puppy eyes, and I turned back to the group to avoid them, only to see amused faces all around.

“Do you guys need anything before we head back? I’m sure you don’t want to deal with a Princess tantrum.” I rumbled out, looking on in disinterest as Elle decided to hug the side of my face like an octopus. She probably still had the puppy eyes on.

“You have an adorable daughter!” Princess Diana exclaimed soon after I was finished speaking. “How old is she?” She asked, looking at me curiously as I lowered myself to the ground, Elle now floating behind my head as she played with my low ponytail.

“She is now two years old.” I answered, swiftly nabbing Elle from behind me while reaching the back of my head. I lowered my arms to see I had her upside down now, her hanging like a sack of potatoes as she giggled.

“Dada!” Elle exclaimed, waving her arms around her in glee as she looked up at me.

“You don’t feel like a ghost completely… neither does she, what are you exactly?” Constantine asked, waving his hand at me in confusion.

“I don’t know if I can trust you with that information, Constantine.” I growled a little, glaring at him as he stepped forward while Elle hid behind me.

“Hey now! Let’s calm down, no one needs to start anything!” Nightwing stepped in front of the glaring Constantine who looked more and more like a bug the longer I looked at him.

“There isn’t anything to start, really. His soul is in shreds at the moment, not very powerful compared to my kind anyway.” I stated, crossing my arms once again as Elle peaked out from over my shoulder.

“Now, I need to speak with a Mr. Red Hood.” I said, looking on at the Batfam who tensed at my words.

“Why?” Batman growled out, stepping in front of the confused Red Hood.

“To heal him, of course.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I heard sounds of confusion from everyone else.

“His ectoplasm is very corrupted. He has the ghost flu, in which case makes my kind very moody and in need of pure ectoplasm to filter it and his emotions.” I briefly explained, unpinching my nose as I looked up from the ground. Willing my headache away for now.

“So his pit madness is basically the ghost flu?” Red Robin murmurs out hysterically, almost giggling in disbelief.

“Yes, I have heard of his haunt, Crime Alley, that being under his protection, I have never stepped foot on his property because I didn’t want to seem like a threat to a sick person who can’t control themselves completely with such a sickness.” I explained myself a bit nervously, rubbing the back of my neck a little with my right hand as Elle now sat on my left shoulder, swinging her legs.

“Wow, the ghost king is a dork…” I heard Spoiler mutter to Orphan, who nodded in agreement.

I huffed, crossing my arms and floated once again. “I can come back another time. I just wished to help a little. My doctor can probably fix him quicker than I, but I know what to do as I have studied under him for more than over a year now.” I informed them.

“So the pit madness can go away…?” Red Hood asked, stepping from around Batman to speak to me clearly.

“I’m unsure of what this “Pit Madness” is, but yes, I can heal you and make sure you properly get the help you need from your emotional roller coaster sickness.” I said, looking down at him as he took a few more steps to me, his family following behind him.

“Well, when can you fix me?” He asked, his voice modifier cutting all emotions from his voice, but I can clearly feel his emotions bursting from his almost formed core. It seems this sickness had stopped him from forming his core completely and left him sick for many years.

I could feel his hope, his rage and especially his bursts of want for some reason.

“I can fix you right now, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted privacy or not. It’s very…. Intimate. I can take you somewhere private if you would like?” I rumbled out, the burst of want came out more clearly, and I could tell Red Hood was clearly not expecting that word choice.

“Take me anytime—�� I could clearly hear his muttered out answer behind his helmet with my enhanced hearing, but I don’t know if I was supposed to hear that.

“Nope! Little Wing— you are not going with the ghost king—“ Nightwing suddenly yelled out, the whites of his mask bigger as Spoiler, Red Robin, and Signal burst into loud laughter. Batman sighed loudly in disappointment. Robin just “Tt” and sighed alongside his father, looking like a mini bat. Orphan just smiled at me.

“By intimate, I mean having a look at your soul, I will essentially have to take a closer look at that and cure you.” I fixed my words, making it seem as if I didn’t hear anything and I could feel a little disappointment coming from Red Hood but he nodded at my explanation.

#dc x dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #Dante Fenton #jason todd #jason todd x danny fenton #danny fenton x jason todd #batman #dc universe #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc fic #random thoughts #please don’t even take this seriously #I had an idea and threw it onto the internet because I’m currently sleep deprived and overworked

[will80sbyers]

Do you still have the list of movies that inspired ST4? I had a picture of it but I lost it and I haven't been able to find it since. Please and thank you in advance.

Yep!

Long post warning lol

300

2001: A Space Odyssey

47 Meters Down: Uncaged

12 Monkeys

28 Days Later

13th Warrior

Ace Ventura: Pet Detective

Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls

Altered States

Amelie

American Sniper

Analyze This

Annihilation

Aristocats

Armageddon

Assassins Creed

Avengers: Age of Ultron

Arrival

Almost Famous

Batman Begins

Batman V. Superman

Basket Case

Battle at Big Rock

Beauty and the Beast

Beetlejuice

Behind Enemy Lines

Beverly Hills Cop

Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey

Billy Madison

Black Cauldron

Black Swan

Boondock Saints

Borat

Bram Stoker’s Dracula

Burn After Reading

Broken Arrow

Blade Runner

C.H.U.D

Con Air

Cast Away

Congo

Constantine

Children of Men

Cabin in the Woods

Crank

Casablanca

Carrie

Crimson Tide

Clueless

Dukes of Hazzard

Don’t Breathe

Death to Smoochy

Doom

Dark Knight

Dogma

Deep Blue Sea

Dreamcatcher

Drop Dead Fred

Die Hard

Die Hard 2

Die Hard 3

Don’s Plum

Dances with Wolves

Dumb and Dumber

Edward Scissorhands

Enter the Void

Ex Machina

Event Horizon

Emma (2020)

Forrest Gump

Fargo

Fisher King

Full Metal Jacket

Ferris Bueller

Fallen

Fugitive

Ghost

Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Ghostbusters

Good Fellas

Girl Interrupted

Godzilla: King of the Monsters

Get Out

Good Will Hunting

Hackers

High Fidelity

Hellraiser 1

Hellraiser 2

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Hidden

High School Musical

Hurt Locker

Heat

Hunger Games

Highlander

Hell or High Water

Home Alone

I am Legend

It’s a Wonderful Life

In Cold Blood

Inception

I am a Fugitive from Chain Gang

Inside Out

Island of Doctor Moreau

It Follows

Interview with a Vampire

Inner Space

Into the Spiderverse

Independence Day

Jupiter Ascending

John Carter of Mars

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom

James Bond (All Movies)

Julie

Karate Kid

Knives Out

Kingsmen

Little Miss Sunshine

Labyrinth

Long Kiss Goodnight

Lost Boys

Leon: The Professional

Let the Right One In

Little Women (1994)

Mad Max: Fury Road

Magnolia

Men in Black

Mimic

Matrix

Misery

My Cousin Vinny

Mystic River

Minority Report

Mr. and Mrs. Smith

Neverending Story

Never Been Kissed

No Country for Old Men

Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors

North by Northwest

Open Water

Orange County

Oceans 8

Oceans 11

Oceans 12

One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest

Ordinary People

Paddington 2

Platoon

Pulp Fiction

Papillon

Pan’s Labyrinth

Pineapple Express

Peter Pan

Princess Bride

Paradise Lost

Primal Fear

Prisoners

Peter Jackson’s King Kong

Reservoir Dogs

Ravenous

Rushmore

Road Warrior

Rogue One

Reality Bites

Raider of the Lost Ark

Red Dragon

Robocop

Shooter

Sky High

Swingers

Sword in the Stone

Step Up 2

Spy Kids

Saving Private Ryan

Shape of Water

Swept Away

Star Wars: Return of the Jedi

Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back

Superbad

Society

Swordfish

Stoker

Splice

Silence of the Lambs

Source Code

Sicario

Se7en

Starship Troopers

Scrooged

Splash

Silver Bullet

Speed

The Visit

The Italian Job

The Mask of Zorro

True Lies

The Blair Witch Project

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy

Tangled

The Craft

The Guest

The Devil’s Advocate

The Graduate

The Prestige

The Rock

Titanic

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

The Fly

Tombstone

The Mummy

The Guardian

The Goofy Movie

The Peanut Butter Solution

Toy Story 4

The Ring

The Crazies

The Mist

The Revenant

The Perfect Storm

The Shining

Terminator 2

The Truman Show

Temple of Doom

The Cell

To Kill a Mockingbird

Timeline

The Good Son

The Orphan

The Birdcage

The Green Mile

The Raid

The Cider House Rules

The Lighthouse

The Book of Henry

The A-Team

The Crow

The Terminal

Thor Ragnarok

Twister

The Descent

The Birds

Total Recall

The Natural

The Fifth Element

True Romance

Terminator: Dark Fate

The Hobbit Trilogy

Unforgiven

Unbreakable

Unleashed

Very Bad Things

Wayne’s World

What Women Want

War Dogs

Wedding Crashers

What’s Eating Gilbert Grape

Welcome to the Dollhouse

Welcome to Marwen

Wet Hot American Summer

What Lies Beneath

What Dreams May Come

War Games

Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Weird Science

Willow

Wizard of Oz

Wanted

Young Sherlock Holmes

You’ve Got Mail

Zodiac

Zoolander

#stranger things #ask #st4 #st4 movies

[typecastwritesssss]

okay but like the wind waker man. that intro. so many questions. we all know ocarina is dark but man wind waker just straight up said "and then they all drowned and the gods never came to help" hello??? how many years. how many decades. how much time did the adult hero of time buy for them? which child of zelda’s was daphnes? her son? grandchild? great-grandchild? when he stared at the rising waters and realized nothing was going to save them, his kingdom, did he think it was retribution for all the war? 

has it really been all that long? yes and also no. the lines are so blurred. the zora are birds and the kokiri are koroks and they had time to Get That Way but everywhere you look the old Hyrule, the Hero of Time himself, they're both all over the place. the deku tree is implied to be the sprout from the adult timeline but honestly who knows. the golden goddesses are statues on islands somewhere and there was a tower built to test who came after but…who and how and why? what was the tower of the gods even for? how did they know they’d need it? at what point did they accept the hero of time was never coming back so they’d probably need to train a new one? 

and oh my god, that outset island tradition. “dress your kids in green and give ‘em a sword and pray to the gods they’ll have the courage to cast down evil.” link rolls his eyes at it but he wears them to appease grandma. the revered clothes of the hero have had time to pass into “stupid traditional getup” territory. how many “failed Links” were there before Aryll’s brother? what evil could those children have possibly stricken down? the monsters in the woods?

“what became of that kingdom? none remain who know” like goddamn. say what you want about the hero’s shade in twilight princess. but at least the traumatized ghost got to meet one of his descendants and pass on his songs and his knowledge, even if that knowledge was only of war and death and combat. in the wind waker he’s a statue. an element of a legend mentioned once or twice by the last remaining holdouts of the past—holdouts who so badly want him to return, view him as the solution over all else, that they never pause to consider any other option. there are stained glass windows of the seven sages in the master sword’s chamber that are never mentioned. there is so much that is never mentioned.

nobody knows what the fuck anybody is talking about. link doesn’t know old hylian. tetra is running around the high seas (as a pirate. she and her retainers are now pirates. how did things get that way) with a piece of the damn triforce around her neck and she doesn’t know who ‘princess zelda’ even is. the juxtaposition between ganondorf, older and tired and wiser but still hell-bent on ruling hyrule even if it is a dead land full of nothing and no one, and tetra, a zelda that knows nothing, asking why he’s laughing and calling him insane. because hyrule’s dead. she has no frame of reference for his longing, or what he found so great about this sunken kingdom.

and this is framed as a good thing. the king of red lions thinks it’s better not to let either of the kids in on the loop until tetra nearly dies for lack of knowledge. daphnes nolhansen hyrule brought “the hero” back just to end ganon, and hyrule with him. was the plan always to let the sea fall in on him? maybe. i don’t know. but he rejects zelda’s plea with him to take him with them to the land that will be the new hyrule, because “it will not be hyrule. it will be your land” and that still gets me. he thinks the best thing to do with his kingdom, Hyrule, the kingdom of a whole hell of a lot of irl people’s childhoods, is for it to wash away. he wants the kids to live for the future and they do and they will and they name it hyrule anyway in his honor but he never gets to see it.

anyways i’m still mad everybody got butthurt over “trains in a zelda game” like come on now

#apparently i'm wind waker posting now #zelda thoughts #vaguely inspired by that tp post i saw where it was like “something terrible happened here” #wind waker is the most cheerful post-apocalypse i’ve ever seen #genuinely #because *nobody knows* what happened #a bit meta because wind waker was technically one of my first zelda games and i knew nothing about anything i just knew link was the hero #and then i l e a r n e d #i just really want daphnes and tp zelda to compare notes about their depression #the legend of zelda #lozww #wind waker #the wind waker #tloz #loz #spirit tracks #the legend of zelda the wind waker #triumph forks

[witchthewriter]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬

a/n: crossover that I really wanted to do. I've used dragons from every timeline.

gif cred: @gameofthronesdaily.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

I wanted to make this as simple as possible, so I'm not going into backgrounds or Houses or the wheres, whos and whys. But if you'd like me to make backstories for them, let me know in my inbox!

(but p.s. I can already see Kyle being a Velaryon Prince and Simon a Targaryen because of their natural features.)

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 | 𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒚𝒔

There's something very regal about John - he holds himself with dignity and grace. He walks with pride and knows his rank/his place. Because he's earnt it.

Meleys, who was once known as the quickest dragon in Westeros, also holds herself the exact same way John does.

She is the Red Queen, vicious, fierce and unyielding. She is royalty - looks it too.

I'm not quite sure she'd like a male rider - there would have to be a lot of winning her over. All her other riders have been female, and very bold. Yet, when Meleys saw the bravery of John, she allowed him to mount her.

But the two of them together would be an absolute force to be reckoned with. Intelligence mixed with tactics, and planning - they would soon become one of the most feared rider and mount in history.

𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 | 𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈

Known by a lot of positive traits, the first one being: understanding her responsibilities. Silverwing is the perfect dragon.

Great with people, friendly, and elegant. She knows when eyes are on her.

In the same way that Kyle can make a friend wherever he is. People find him very charming.

Both are great at socialising. This reflects how a dragonrider usually has similar traits to their mount.

Know their duties, but also know when enough is enough. They don't let others walk all over them.

𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 | 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓

Ooh boy, okay so these two bonded over being grumpy and moody.

While Vermithor used to be the mount of one of Westerosi's greatest Kings, I think he would like Simon a whole lot more.

Simon, who would never make him do anything Simon wouldn't do himself.

Both of them hate too much company.

And the only way to truly get away from people is in the air.

Vermithor might be considered an old man, but he's still got that passion within him, and damn anyone who says what he can and cannot do

The pair could be gone for weeks. Only relying on one another for company, aiding each other in getting food and Vermithor being wonderful at finding bodies of water.

Although they do usually go to the same places now.

Sometimes Simon forgets how formidable Vermithor is - and that in the past anyone who approached him would burn to death by his flame.

But really Simon only sees a big lizard with wings who snores when he sleeps and grunts when he's angry. Oh, and watch out for his tail because he will try to knock you over when he's irritated.

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 | 𝑴𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒙𝒆𝒔

Let's gather what we know about Soap: intelligent (obviously, no one in the army reaches that level by being a complete tosser), he's active and ready to be in the field i.e, now the air.

Meraxes is known for being an avid flyer. Her first and only rider, Rhaenys the First, flew her mount so much - some say it was the collective amount of both her brother and sister riding their own beasts.

Johnny is the dragonrider who is constantly scowering for dragon eggs. If he finds them, he cares for them like they're his own children.

Johnny would literally be the Father of Dragons. Would 100% do a Dany and walk into fire to see if the eggs will hatch (don't worry the other boys look out for him and Meraxes would never let him be so stupid as to willingly hurt himself.)

If you have a different opinion I'm more than happy to hear it!

#cod #crossover #cod x dragons #cod x house of the dragon #cod x game of thrones #cod x reader #witchthewriter #headcanons #aesthetic #cod x y/n #dragons #dragon headcanons #cannibal the dragon #dragon dictionary #dragon x human #wyvern #game of thrones #got #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon crossover #game of thrones crossover call of duty #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty fic #call of duty headcanons #call of duty fanfic #call of duty ghost

[nuadha-airgeadlamh]

more thoughts about messmer...

looking at his line of dialogue in the trailer: 

"Mother, wouldst thou truly Lordship sanction in one so bereft of light?"

and this other line spoken by an unknown person: 

"Those stripped of the Grace of Gold shall all meet death in the embrace of Messmer's flame."

it seems like Messmer is marked specifically as being antagonistic towards the Tarnished. now prejudice against the Tarnished isn’t really uncommon in the Lands Between, but at the same time it’s certainly not an absolute rule. the only two demigods specifically outlined as being notably anti-Tarnished are Godrick, who hunts them for his grafting, and Morgott, who kills Tarnished en masse to guard the Erdtree from them taking power. some demigods, like Rykard and Mohg, even incorporate Tarnished into their orders to oppose the Erdtree (to fight other Tarnished but the point still stands), and Ranni has no problem accepting a Tarnished as her vassal. so it’s interesting to note that Messmer is being characterized in this way. 

if we take the duelist and depraved perfumer sets’ item descriptions to be alluding to Messmer, then this would date him very far back in the timeline, as the ritual sword talisman item description states that colosseum culture died out by the time of King Consort Radagon. since Miyazaki has all but confirmed that Messmer is Marika’s child, and so the “Mother” in his dialogue is almost certainly referring to her, then that would make him among her very eldest children, perhaps even her firstborn. 

there are further points that  strengthen these connections to Marika and the Golden Order, in spite of all the heretical imagery. enhancing the image of the trailer clearly shows that there is a statue of Marika standing behind him, and that this statue is holding a baby. Miyazaki has stated that the chair he sits in is one of the very same chairs the other demigods sat in in Morgott’s boss room.

i also want to bring attention to this ring in his character design: 

i’m not going to make any wild conclusions about this, but I do think that it certainly doesn’t match with the rest of the reds and grays of his design, and looks far more similar to Golden Order aesthetic tendencies. 

my speculative conclusions on this information relate to the relationship between Messmer and Marika. I think there’s definitely some ambiguity in his dialogue in the trailer: is he referring to the Tarnished as ‘the one so bereft of light’ or himself, living in a land of shadow? I think this ambiguity is deliberate. perhaps some quarrel occurred between Messmer and Marika that led to him being anathematized and forgotten in the shadow lands. perhaps because of this, he feels special anger towards the Tarnished: they, bereft of light just as he is, are shown Marika’s favor while he isn’t? perhaps he’s bitter and jealous that Marika might pay them more attention than she did him. just a thought! 

#elden ring #messmer #shadow of the erdtree #messmer the impaler

[melrosing]

anyway I'm gonna start posting My Own Robert's Rebellion Adaptation ep by ep because.... GRRM's never gonna do it?? I have too much time?? both?? stay tuned

rules are I can fuck with timelines a little as a treat, but not so much that events/character ages & development are changed. so for example Aerys doesn’t actually make Tywin hand till four years into his reign I think, but who actually cares when Jaehaerys died, let’s say it was a little later and that Tywin was made Hand straight off

finally I am picturing a two season show where this one ends w Harrenhal. anyway

Next Part: Episode 2

Episode 1: Aerys' Dad Dies

We open on the body of King Jaehaerys II, lying in state at the Sept of Baelor. There’s a silent congregation standing around him, and closest of all his children, Aerys and Rhaella. Between them stands their young son, Rhaegar

At the King’s council as they discuss next steps from here. Right now, Aerys seems faintly charming, albeit with a jagged edge. There’s mention of Rhaella’s new pregnancy, and a fear that the distress of losing their father might cause her ill health. Everyone wants the transition to Aerys’ rule to be smooth as possible, so he must choose a Hand asap. His council have ideas; Aerys has one of his own 🦁

We are introduced to Tywin Lannister, travelling in a golden coach (obvs) to King’s Landing. With him are Joanna and their year-old twins. Tywin looks pleased with himself; Joanna notes he’s not Hand yet, but Tywin has no doubt he will be

The Lannisters are greeted jovially by Aerys, who is a little too familiar with Joanna, making her, Tywin and Rhaella equally uncomfortable. Aerys is introduced to the Lannister twins (inadvertantly meeting his own future murderer - 🚨 kill bill sirens 🚨 ), and welcomes all. Generally just appears a bit too upbeat for a funeral, because as a human being he is just fundamentally Off

The funeral: burning Jaehaerys’ body in a ‘manmade pyre’. Aerys mumbles they used to have dragons for this, the implication being that there’s something faintly undignified about this for a Targaryen. Rhaella weeps, and Rhaegar stares hard into the flames because he is a weird 👏 kid 👏

Rhaella and Joanna take a walk through the gardens of the Red Keep. Rhaella implies having noticed Aerys’ behaviour towards her, and that she has noticed it before. Joanna quietly asserts that she does not invite it. Rhaella says she knows - Aerys is like that

Aerys and Tywin meet for post-funeral drinks in Aerys’ solar. Aerys comments that he finds Rhaegar kind of strange and bookish, and believes he has too much of his mother in him. More generally, we see both the familiar and the fractious in how Aerys and Tywin engage, and have some sense of the two being childhood friends (insofar as either of these men even know what a friend is ❤️). Aerys offers the position of Hand to Tywin. Tywin plays a little hard to get, but ultimately agrees. A rare Tywin smile is witnessed x

The coronation: Targ aesthetic dialled up to eleven, because I imagine the more insecure Targaryen kings would cling to it in the absence of dragons. Aerys passes the dragon skulls on his way to the throne (some heavy-handed visual foreshadowing by urs truly xo). Watching on are the heads of the greathouses and their young scions: Aerys death stands all about him in the room, even if he doesn’t know it yet. Rhaella too receives a crown, and somehow doesn’t looked thrilled about it

Final scene sees Rhaegar sitting crosslegged on the floor of his bedchamber with a book and a candle, singing a Valyrian song to himself - the words are not translated

#asoiaf #sparknotes robert's rebellion #I wanted the kids from the rebellion at the coronation to introduce them but they’re so young that it’s like #aerys getting crowned in front of a parent and baby group where the babies are his doom

[bohemian-nights]

Arlī(Anew)-Chapter 4

Word Count: ~5,431 words

Rating: 18+

Warning ⚠️: Uncle/niece incest (mild smut)

Description: “She has yet to give you a child.” Naerys hand flew to her stomach. Peering through the crack in the door that Daemon had left to take a look to see the scene that was playing out in their chamber.

AN: This story takes place from episode 5 onward. I’ve changed things up a bit but I’ve kept the timeline intact.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

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116 AC-Kings Landing

“That was then Rhaenyra,” Daemon's quiet voice could be heard from their solar, awakening Naerys from her restless nap. She had tried to sleep but had not been able to find an agreeable position in which she could take her mid-day slumber. Instead, she lies in the realm between reality and dreams. Constantly drifting in and out of consciousness.

In the fortnight they had spent at the capital it seemed as if Naerys could not get enough rest. She woke up tired and went to bed in the same state. Her days had become a monotonous string of court proceedings that she struggled to find her footing.

The sun set and the sun rose and a new day of court would begin. An endless parade of pageantry and tittering empty-headed smiles. The young princess longed for the quiet solitude of Dragonstone. Some nights she would lie awake going through every interaction she had that day.

Laena, her husband, and the rest of house Velaryon were stuck on Driftmark. A coming storm had made their journey to Kings Landing impossible. Alicent and Rhaenyra had taken it upon themselves to entertain her in her cousin's absence. If it was not Alicent with her constant teas, sewing circles, and worrying looks it was Rhaenyra and her jibs. Searching her face to see which one would hit its target.

Naerys' husband's general absence had not helped matters. She knew that her uncle had not meant to neglect her. Perhaps neglect wasn’t even the right word for it. The simple fact of the matter was that duty had called. One could hardly say no to the king. Least of all when he is your elder brother.

Daemon was back in the Viserys good graces. All was forgiven since the debacle of their wedding had put further strain on the brother's relationship. Daemon had been invited to attend small council meetings. Lord Strong surprisingly did not object to her husband’s presence on the small council. The lord undoubtedly wanted to keep the peace and was willing to make sacrifices to do so. The rest of the council had followed the hand’s lead.

The rogue prince's seat at the meetings was in an unofficial capacity of course, but some position on the council would no doubt be offered to him once more. He would take it. Daemon was never one for the shadows. Dragonstone was less than stimulating to the mind. At court he was in his element once more.

Naerys herself had been offered to attend a council meeting, but Rhaenyra had put her off from taking up the offer. “Naerys will be bored out of her mind uncle. Wouldn’t you aunt?” It was said with the same condescending tone that she always spoke with. The remark stung, but not as much as her other taunts.

“Children are a joy.” Rhaenyra had found her bullseyes. As Rhaenyra cooed over her black-haired sons, Naerys had to hold back from snapping at the woman. The realm's delight had gotten with child without having to bat so much as an eye. She had given birth to two healthy sons. Two healthy heirs. Not all women were so lucky.

Naerys apparent lack of children had been a source of gossip throughout the Red Keep. Rhaenyra had seen to it. Among the ladies at court, the detail of her empty womb was a favorite topic of conversation. She’s barren. She can not give him children. Poor thing. Perhaps the prince will take a lover again. The young princess would have faltered under the growing weight of the chatter had she not suspected that their efforts to have an heir might yet be fulfilled.

“It wasn’t very long ago.” Rhaenyra’s high-pitched whisperings interrupted the younger girl from her memories. Bringing her back to her present reality, Naerys reached for the robe hanging off her changing room's screen to cover her nakedness. The capital was much warmer than Dragonstone. Even when Daemon did not join her in sleep, she remained comfortable throughout the nights.

“She has yet to give you a child.” Naerys hand flew to her stomach. Peering through the crack in the door that Daemon had left to take a look to see the scene that was playing out in their chamber. Her husband stood by a freshly lit fire with a drink in his hand. Rhaenyra’s back was turned towards her as she faced their uncle.

“So has Laenor.” Naerys could see Rhaenyra visibly wincing from where she stood. Her body jumped slightly at their uncle's words. Daemon looked unbothered, almost bored with the flow of conversation as he swirled the amber liquid in his goblet before taking another slow sip. He had not taken his eyes off the firelight in their chambers.

“She may never give you heirs.” A sneer was evident in her voice. Her spine stilling, holding her head high once more. “What good is my cousin, a Valyrian bride, good for if she has not done her duty to you?” It was a bluff. Naerys could not be put aside so easily. The king would not allow it. Both Ser Vaemond and Lord Corlys would raise hell if an accident were to occur. She was the blood of old Valyria, not a common Andal lady.

“She’s my wife Rhaenyra.” He had lowered his voice. Daemon had finally turned around to glare down at the realm's delight. The dying light of the day coupled with the glow from the fire cast his eyes in a tenebrous haze. “You will do well to remember that.”

“Lady Rhea Royce was your wife as well.” Rhaenyra let out a bitter laugh as she continued on. Unconcerned with the shadows that crossed their uncle's face. “What did you call her? Your bronze bitch. Have you forgotten her already?”

It was easy enough to forget that Daemon had ever been married to another. Her husband never brought up his ill-fated union with the vale woman. Naerys had never even met the woman. She only existed in the outer reaches of her mind as a faceless memory.

“You promised me and yet you married her.” Her cousin's anger and desperation had grown into something else. Rhaenyra grabbed Daemon. Pulling the tall man into her space. “You promised me.” Her husband did not move from her cousin's grasp. Daemon began to stroke her forearm. The touch was intimate. As if they had done it a million times before. Rhaenyra’s words echoed in Naerys' mind.

Naerys did not know what the two got up to during her visits or what happened between the two before their respective marriages. She would not ask now. The past lay in the past. It was best kept that way. Daemon was ever the attentive husband these days. She would not bring up old misdeeds, but it seemed that these wounds appeared whether she wanted them to or not.

“Rhaenyra.” It was said with a sigh. The venom was gone from his gaze. Her husband closed his eyes briefly as if to gather his bearings. His fingers continued their descent across Rhaenyra’s arm. Naerys could feel her blood begin to boil. She was grateful that no objects lay within her reach or else she would have hurled them at her uncle's head.

“Kosti sagon biare kesīr.” Daemon did not reply. His fingers had finally ceased their movement. He cast his violet eyes towards the door where his wife hid behind. Naerys froze hoping he had not seen her.

“Would you abandon Ser Harwin so easily?” Naerys could see her husband leaning down as if to whisper a poorly kept secret in her cousin's ear. Rhaenyra had taken a lover herself. She was not left without companionship. She found her own distractions.

“I had no choice.” Rhaenyra sputtered at her uncle's question. Her desperation returned as she reached out to bring him near her.” I was alone. We both were.” Excuses fell from her lips, but came upon deaf ears. Daemon spurred his niece’s advances this time. Moving further away from her grasp back towards the fire.

“I am not alone Rhaenyra.” Daemon turned his back fully towards the fire to face Rhaenyra, but he did not look at his niece as he had said the words. Naerys felt her husband's gaze lock onto her. A grin spread across his face which seemed to grow when he saw the fury within his wife.

Rhaenyra had yet to see her, but the woman was burning up with her own barely contained-rage. She almost fluttered past her as she made her way to exit their chambers, but her lilac eyes finally landed on her cousin. The princess yanked open the iron-framed oak door, bringing in a draft, to face her cousin. Naerys pulled her robe tighter around her body to ward off the chill.

“He never stays in one bed for long.” Rhaenyra’s eyes cast down at Naerys stomach with a mirthless sneer. The older girl bent down slightly to spit her next words in her cousin's ear. “If he ever puts a babe in you he’ll just move on to the next one.” The older girl cast one last look at their uncle, before storming from the room.

A wave of dizziness came over Naerys. Daemon was by her side with surprising speed. His smirk had fallen as he helped her into his chair, seating her on his lap before handing her a goblet of water fussing over her as if he were a mother hen. “I’ve sent for Maester Orlys.” He urged her to drink the cooling liquid. Her anger at her husband faded with each sip. “We are not going.”

Naerys had nearly forgotten Jacaerys name-day feast. Rhaenyra had pushed it back as far as she could, but now that Ser Harwin and the Velaryon party had finally arrived the feast was to take place that night.

“We must.” They hadn’t much of a choice. Their absence at the festivities would be noted. Daemon may not care what the “sheep” gossiped about, but Naerys would not add fuel to the growing pyre. They still had to do their duty.

Naerys made ready to climb off her husband’s lap though her Daemon would not release her. He merely shushed her as he brought the back of his hand up to stroke his niece's sable cheek. He gave her a dark look before he leaned in, catching her open mouth by surprise. Their pink tongues danced tangling with one another briefly before her uncle pulled away.

“Ao issi issa vys issa byka mēre.” Daemon buried his silver head in her neck. He was breathing her in as he softly petted the silver coils at her nape. Naerys let herself be fawned over. Her husband's words and gentle ministrations soothed the last remnants of the dull ache she had felt moments ago. “You mean more to me than you could possibly know.”

It occurred to her that for all of his bolstering and saccharine remarks Daemon had never spoken those three little words. They had been married for a year now and yet in some ways Naerys still felt like she did not know her husband at all of his true opinion of her.

Was a man like her husband even capable of such feelings? Was he even capable of feeling that way toward her? Love was not a requirement of marriage, but Naerys was certain that she carried half of him inside of her. Surely that meant something. Was she to share a child with a man who ran hot one minute and cold?

“Get dressed sweetling.” Daemon snapped Naerys from her thoughts with a start. Releasing her from his lap with a final kiss on her temple before turning quickly to head to his own antechamber to do the same.

The rogue prince did not stop to check back on her, but his wife did not miss the glance he gave her before he had left to change. Nor did she miss when he hesitated to leave her in the first place. Naerys knew that she was burning under his fire, but perhaps he burned in hers as well. Or perhaps she was too hopeful. Believing in fairytales, words made of wind, and gallant knights where there were none to be found.

If it was something Naerys mother's family were known for it was how to make an entrance. In Velaryon fashion, they arrived late. They were the last ones to arrive at the Red Keep for the little prince's festivities and what an entrance they had made. Particularly Laena’s girls.

The little darlings had stolen the show. Baela and Rhaena were not yet half a year old and yet their presence dazzled the court. They were small little things that had inherited their mother's silver waves and the lilac eyes of house Velaryon. Sans their coloring, which was all Ser Harwin, they looked like the spitting image of their mother.

Naerys held onto the belief that babies could change until she saw Luke and Jace near their sire. Laenor’s “sons” had not a stitch of their “father” in them, nor their mother for that matter. One had only to look at Ser Harwin to see who fathered them.

Naerys had not meant to ambush her cousin, but Laena had arrived too late for a private chat over tea as she had wanted. She and Daemon were officially due to depart for Dragonstone in the coming days. Regardless of whether they made that journey together or not, the feast was likely Naerys' only chance to learn the truth of the situation.

Her cousins had not denied the affair. “My daughter will be queen,” Laena smiled at the passing ladies of the court as they took a turn about the room. “My youngest will likely be the lady of Driftmark.” She was a daughter of house Velaryon and a dragonrider. She held her head high as they passed by her husband. Ser Harwin smiled at his wife, bouncing one of their daughters in his hold. “I am happy with what I have dear cousin.”

Naerys could not understand how her cousin could be so calm in the face of everything. Laena had the patience of a septa. The young princess did not believe she could endure being around her husband’s mistress day in and out, much less embrace the situation with open arms. She would have grown mad by now, but her oldest cousin possessed a quiet acceptance that was lacking in even those twice her age.

Princess Rhaenys bristled whenever Rhaenyra or her sons came near. She seemed to avoid her good son altogether. Leaving for the opposite side of the room when the captain of the city watch ventured too close to her. Her behavior was a stark contrast to how her husband approached the subject of their grandsons and their sire

Lord Corlys for all intents and purposes appeared unconcerned. Baela, Laena’s oldest, was already betrothed to the future king of the seven kingdoms. From Laena’s own mouth Rhaena would be betrothed to the heir of her father's seat. As long as her uncle's blood sat upon the Driftwood throne he would not deny the strong boys the privilege of the Velaryon name.

Naerys' other uncle was a different matter. If there was any question of Ser Vaemond’s views on the future king and the Lord of Driftmark one need only to see the sneers the dark man gave his good niece and her sons to decipher his true opinion.

Laena was called away to deal with a teething Rhaena. Naerys was left alone. Daemon stood on the opposite side of the hall with Lord Boremund and her aunt Rhaenys. Her husband met her eyes, giving her a smirk. She might have gone over to join them, but though he was good-natured she always found the storm lord too brutish for her tastes.

“You glow my princess.” A foreign voice emerged from the shadows. Naerys turned to its source to come face to face with a ghost. Lords and Ladies gilded around the great hall with practiced ease. Not paying any attention to them. Naerys wondered if the woman was a figment of her imagination, but she knew that her eyes did not deceive her when Rhaenyra stared at her from where she sat at the high table with a mocking leer.

Lady Mysaria stood as an unnaturally pale thin creature cloaked in a hooded robe. Naerys had only seen her husband's former mistress from a distance. She had been a child then, but The woman had not changed much from her memory.

“Thank you.” Naerys did not know how else to respond. It was best to take her words at face value than see them as something more. The woman reached out a milky hand to brush her stomach. Her hands were cold. Cold enough to feel through the layers of dark gown she wore. Naerys tried not to flinch at her touch. Something told her not to falter under the pale woman’s stare.

“You have not told him have you?” The white worm continued to caress her stomach. Naerys dared not to breathe. She feared that if she did her body would give into the cold. “Children are fickle creatures. A blessing from the Gods that can be so easily taken away before they are even born.” She smiled and the chill spread. “Fear not princess, your husband shall have his heir.” Mysaria turned her violet gaze on the other side of the room towards where the princess had last seen her husband.

Naerys did not want to follow it, but she could not resist. Lord Boremund and Rhaenys had left from Daemon's side. Their presence had been replaced by a visiting Lysenni lady. Her white hair gleamed and reflected off of the hall’s ember glow. The lady had her hand resting on Daemon’s arm.

The rogue prince leaned into her hold bending his silver head so that she may whisper in his ear. Whatever she had said made the two descend into laughter. Naerys felt her face heat up. She tried to contain her fire, but she felt herself spiraling at the next words the white worm's breathed into her ear. “His heir and more to spare.” Mysaria was not known for her gift of prophecy, but she had known Daemon.

He will get bored of you. Rhaenyra’s unspoken words rang around in her head. She could no longer hear the noise of the festivities around her. Daemon had his fill. Naerys was just a plaything to him. A useful necessity that he was bound to, but the bonds of marriage meant little to her husband. He was back to where he wanted to be. He can not survive in one bed alone. It did not matter what pretty words he muttered to her in the dark of their chambers. Daemon was not built for it.

“Are you well princess?” Ser Gwayne had removed himself from his post and was by her side before she could blink. Holding her forearm up with practiced ease. Concern was written plainly across his face. Lady Mysaria had slinked back to whatever hole she had crawled out from, but the princess could still feel the chill she had left behind. Naerys felt eyes watching her every move. She could barely breathe under their stares.

“Would you escort me to my seat Ser?” Naerys did not have to explain she would not make it there herself. The Hightower knight was not the only one who had noticed her distress. Daemon was thundering across the Red Keeps great hall. The fury of the dragon blazing in his eyes.

Naerys met Ser Gwayne’s dark eyes before nodding her head in the direction of the oncoming storm. I do not want him whisking me off somewhere to simper out more empty words. The knight gave her a small smile in understanding. Taking her arm to escort her into the crowd, but Daemon had made their way towards them before they could.

“Thank you Ser Gwanye, but your assistance is no longer required.” Daemon sneered at the younger man. His empty sword hand twitches at his side. Viserys had not allowed her husband to bring Dark Sister to the feast. Only the guards had a need for weapons. Naerys thanked the Gods for her uncle’s foresight.

“I will go when the princess dismisses me.” The Hightower knight stood his ground this time. His dark eyes stared her husband down. The two were at a crossroad. Naerys wondered if the two would cause a scene.

“She is my wife Ser. You will release her this instant or you will not see to the end of this feast your dear sister has so dutifully planned.” Daemon's grip tightened on her. Only relaxing it when she let out a wince. Naerys would not meet his eyes. Her husband had no right to his foul temper. He had embarrassed her enough for one night. She would no longer placate him.

“Aunt,” a small voice called from the edge of the crowd. Aemond stood beckoning Naerys over to where he and his siblings sat on the far end of the high table. Naerys had never been more grateful for the distraction. Ser Gwayne let her go upon hearing his nephew, but Daemon would not fold.

“Our nephew calls for me my lord.” Naerys felt herself burning up as she finally lifted her head to gaze up at her husband. “May I go to him or are you mistrustful of little boys as well as the knights of your brother’s City Watch?” She expected her husband, but instead, he began to drag her to the king's youngest children.

They passed by the Lysenni lady Daemon had been enchanted with moments before. “Princess.” It was said with a curtesy and a polite smile. One which Naerys did not return. How could she expect her to when she had so blatantly made a pass at her husband with her in the very same room?

“She’d sooner take you into her bed than see me in it, you spoiled thing.” Daemon went to caress her arm, but the princess jerked from his touch. Her husband’s boldness would never cease to astound her. Naerys dug her heels into the floor. A move that she would regret as he threw her over his shoulder. Some of her uncle’s visiting guests looked their way, but the lords and ladies of the court were far used to the rogue prince's antics.

“Are you ill aunt?” Aemond asked with a frown as Naerys' uncle deposited her in an empty seat to Helaena’s left. Daemon moved to sit in the chair to her right, next to his brother's second son.

“Your aunt is fine.” Daemon placed a kiss on the back of her hand before setting their joint hands on the oak table. “She’s just tired.” Naerys sunk her nails into the back of her uncle's hand. It was not enough to draw blood, but it did cause the prince to grunt in discomfort.

She challenged her husband with a raised eyebrow. The man relented with a smirk breathing a threat into his niece’s ear. “Behave or you will not be able to walk tomorrow.” Naerys released her claws with a glare.

The children seemed to pay no mind to the older prince and princesses' heated exchanges. Aemond began to prattle on about some Valyrian text he had come across to his “nuncle.” Aemond and Damon's relationship had improved greatly. It was in no small part to Naerys.

With Naerys' increasing dizzy spells Daemon had forbidden her from flying alone. The royal couple would take turns riding Caraxes and Silverwing together. Carving out some time in the day to visit their dragons. By the second week of their stay in the capital, Aemond would often wait for them at the Dragon Pit entrance. Trying to catch a glimpse of their dragons with wonder in his eyes.

The young prince had no dragon of his own. His egg had long since turned to stone. Aegon had already begun to tease his brother about his dragonless state. His siblings' dragons were too small to ride, but they would soon even little Daeron would become Dragonriders while their brother remained without so much as a dragon to call his own.

The queen was not overly fond of her children’s dragons, but she understood the importance of the bond between a Targaryen and their dragon. She knew how her second son longed for an end to his dragonless state. It took little to convince Alicent to allow him the privilege of a dragon ride. Daemon had not been able to say no either after she had ambushed him while he was still coming down from his high one night.

“I would be grateful kepus if you— if you were to take Aemond with you and Caraxes on your next ride.” The two lay panting in each other’s embrace. Naerys combed her fingers through silver locks as he lay on top of her. The princess winced as her husband replaced his spent cock with his fingers. “Kostilus kepus.”

Daemon's eyes remained glazed over as he watched his digits move in and out of her spasming cunt. Fucking his cum back into his niece while his thumb drew small circles on her clit. “Ao issi sīr gevie byka mēre.” The rogue prince suddenly removed his fingers from within her as the princess was on the crest of another release. Naerys whined at her ruined climax, but her husband only shushed her. “Ao drējī issi vēttan syt issa”

Some of his seed leaked out wetting the silk sheets below, but the lovers paid it no mind as Daemon brought his fingers to his niece's waiting mouth. Naerys eagerly lapped at their combined spends while her husband gave into her demands.

The boy had been ecstatic when Daemon had helped him climb upon Caraxes back. Naerys watched them from the dragon pit entrance with a less than enthused Ser Criston who acted more like the boy's father than his mother's guard as they made their descent into the horizon. Aemond took to the sky’s with a fever she had not seen apart from Daemon and Laena.

Naerys reached for the goblet of water that was placed in front of her. Most of the nausea she had felt in the past had dissipated, but the dizziness remained. Helaena looked up at her with a smile. She was a sweet quiet girl, if not a bit spacey. Alicent’s daughter placed a small hand on her belly with a wistful smile.

“Do not fret aunt. My sister shall be healthy and beautiful.” Dragon dreams. Naerys did not know what to say. Daemon narrowed his eyes at their niece's words, but he made no comment. Only Aegon would grace the table with his thoughts on his sister's riddles.

“Mother isn’t pregnant you nitwit.” Aemond looked as if he wanted to throttle his own brother. Even Helaena had turned her nose up at the unruly boy. Aegon’s ill-mannered behavior remained unchecked by both the king and his mother. His sire seemed to barely acknowledge his existence while Alicent remained at a loss for how to best deal with it.

The king made his way to retire for the evening. He had stayed far longer than he usually did at the feasts of late. Those seated at the high table rose with him as was customary before Viserys would depart. Naerys tried to rise with the rest of the table, but Daemon rested his hand on her shoulder to stop her. As she looked at the pale hand Naerys felt what little was left of her restraint vanish.

She no longer cared if she made a scene. Let the court see how the rogue prince viewed her. The princess managed to shake free of her husband's hold. In her haste, she rose too quickly. Tripping over the leg of her chair she had pushed too far back, Naerys felt herself lose her balance. Her husband caught her before she could hit the Great Hall’s stone floors.

Daemon's voice was the first Naerys heard when she returned to consciousness. She felt sluggish and drowsy. The princess spied from the corner of her eyes one of Maester Orlys’ tinctures on her vanity. Whatever the kindly man had given her had a foul aftertaste.

“How long have you known sweetling?” Daemon did not look angry as he sat in a chair that had been placed by their bed dragging the back of his hand softly across her cheek. He in fact reminded her of a kicked puppy. His gaze was as tender as his touch. The rogue prince looked more like a boy of ten than a man grown. Naerys supposed that was really what he was underneath his bravado.

“When Alicent first invited me to tea.” She felt a weight lift off her shoulder at the revelation. Naerys had her suspicions before, but she had not been sure until Alicent had made it plain to her.

“Ser Gwayne was only trying to help.” Daemon winced. He should have been there for her, not the Hightower knight, but he would apologize for jumping to conclusions. It was not in his nature to express regret for his actions. Naerys understood why. Their fires burned too hot to allow them to. “How far along did Maester Orlys say I was?”

“Three moons.” The baby would arrive in time before the new year. Enough time to get her affairs in order. Enough time to travel to Dragonstone and then Driftmark if she so wished. Naerys wondered if she could fly there now. Daemon answered that question for her.

“We can journey back home.” He gave her a small smile. Petting her silver twists as if she were a child. Her handmaids must have come in at some point to braid up her hair. Something that she would be thankful for in the morning.

“You may stay.” Daemon began to tense up at her words. She reached out in search of the scars on her husband's neck. Stroking the rough skin with a soft hand. It was funny enough, but Naerys felt much calmer now. Looking back on the day the princess had realized that she had let others draw conclusions for her now. Conclusions that only one man could provide.

“I will go to Driftmark.” She tried to sound absent-minded as she said it. Continuing to trace over her husband's scars, threading her fingers into his hair. A storm cloud came over her husband. Naerys could not contain her smile at seeing her uncle's reaction.

Daemon noticed it, but he made no comment as he fell to his knees to kiss the top of her crown before burrowing his silver head into her neck. “I am yours you stubborn girl. I am no one, but yours as you are mine.” The man was exhausted. A day of pointless fighting had worn them both out. “We will go to Dragonstone. I’ve had enough of this city and it’s gossip.”

“I could lose it.” Daemon tensed up once more underneath her fingers. He removed himself from her neck. Violet eyes met a pair of amethyst orbs. It was bad luck to speak of such things. Especially in the early days, but the thought gnawed at her. So many things could go wrong. Naerys never considered herself a very lucky person.

“Ao issi daor nykeā jaes kepus.” Daemon was a man. He behaved as if he were a dragon, but he was still a man and Naerys was a mere woman. They were flesh, blood, and bone. They could not bend fate to suit them. Mortals had their limitations. The king talked of prophecies, but Daemon was little better with his blood obsession.

“Your mother doubts you byka zaldrīzes.” Her husband bent down to place a kiss on her still flat belly. “She worries too much.” Lifting up to face her once more Daemon grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. Lending her the strength that had left from her body. “Iksā ñuha ābrazȳrys. Iksā emare ñuha riña. Īlva riña. Iksi jāre lenton.”

Naerys was too tired to argue with her husband. There was still plenty to sort out, but the day had been long. The princess let herself be petted as she drifted off into a dreamless wonder. She would worry about their future in the morning when her head was clear.

Translations:

Kosti sagon biare kesīr: We can be happy here

kepus: uncle

Ao issi issa vys issa byka mēre: You are my world my little one

Kostilus kepus: Please uncle

Ao issi sīr gevie byka mēre: You are so beautiful little one

Ao drējī issi vēttan syt issa: You truly are made for me

Ao issi daor nykeā jaes kepus: You are not a god uncle

byka zaldrīzes: little dragon

Iksā ñuha ābrazȳrys. Iksā emare ñuha riña. Īlva riña. Iksi jāre lenton: You are my wife. You are having my child. Our child. We are going home.

Ao3 Link:

Tags:

@misssilencewritewell @parizparis @thanyatargaryen @i-love-morally-gray-characters @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @bubblebuttwade

#daemon targaryen x targaryen!oc #daemon targaryen x targaryen!reader #daemon targaryen x black!oc #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x reader #the rouge prince #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targeryan #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd spoilers #hotd x fem!reader #hotd x oc #houseofthedragon #hotd fanfiction #daemon x reader #daemon x oc #bnhotdfic

[velvet4510]

Is it just me, or do y’all also sorta wish that Jackson had filmed Appendix B as the actual ending of ROTK? Clearly, as you’ll see, I have relatively normal feelings about this.

I understand and appreciate the movie having the same ending as the actual book. But the STORY itself doesn’t end with the last chapter; it ends with Appendix B.

Imagine a 2-minute montage, fading in after Sam comes home from the Grey Havens:

An unfamiliar female voice narrates over these images:

Sam & Rosie raising their children at Bag End; Sam reading the Red Book aloud to the children.

Sam making a speech as Mayor.

Sam sitting in Bag End’s study, reading a letter signed ‘Frodo,’ which Frodo clearly left for him.

Pippin & Diamond’s wedding.

Merry & Estella’s wedding.

Aragorn & Arwen with their children in Minas Tirith.

Aragorn dedicating and unveiling a tall statue of Frodo & Sam in Minas Tirith.

Legolas restoring the destroyed forests.

Gimli bringing the dwarves to Helm’s Deep.

Faramir & Éowyn with their children in Ithilien.

Teenage Elanor reading the Red Book by herself and reading a letter or poem that Frodo wrote for her before he sailed away (because, come on, he was a 2nd dad to her. he literally named her. he adored her, so of course he left something for her since she was too young to actually remember him).

Aragorn & Arwen visiting Sam, Merry, Pippin and their wives & children at the Brandywine Bridge.

The Gardner, Took & Brandybuck families all celebrating Yule together.

Time passing … the Travellers aging … the children growing up.

Teenage Elanor introducing Fastred to her parents.

Faramir Took and Goldilocks Gardner dancing at a party, transitioning to a dance at their wedding.

Sam and his son Frodo teaching Frodo’s own young son how to work in the garden.

The seasons in the Shire changing as more years go by…

Elderly Sam and his now-adult children gathered around elderly Rosie’s deathbed.

Elderly Sam sitting alone in Bag End’s beautiful, flourishing garden with a faraway look on his face, pulling Frodo’s now-wrinkled letter out of his pocket and reading it again.

Elderly Sam, Merry & Pippin sharing one last drink at the Green Dragon, followed by a tearful group embrace.

(I know the following messes up the book’s timeline, but for dramatic effect, I think this order of events would work better as a close for the film):

Elderly Merry & elderly Pippin hugging their adult sons goodbye and riding out of the Shire together.

Merry & Pippin shaking hands with elderly Éomer in Rohan.

Merry & Pippin’s gravestones in Gondor, with a statue of them standing above their tomb.

Aragorn’s tomb now beside theirs, years later.

Arwen hugging Eldarion goodbye in his throne room, with Eldarion now wearing the king’s crown.

Arwen entering Lothlórien alone.

Legolas hopping into a small sailboat and helping an aged Gimli onboard before they drift off into the sunset.

Sam placing the Red Book in adult Elanor’s hands and embracing her tightly.

A ship pulling away from the Grey Havens.

Elanor standing on the quayside and tearfully waving as the ship disappears into the horizon. She composes herself and her narration says “And that day, my dear Sam-dad passed over the Sea … the last of the Ring-bearers.”

Her words lead into the very last shot, fading from her face into a flash of white, and then fade-in to a distant view of an island, with greenery on one side and a sparkling beach on the other. Two hobbits, their backs to us, are strolling along the coastline, hand-in-hand.

THE END.

#lotr #jrr tolkien #lord of the rings #the return of the king #lotr movies #appendix b #alternate ending #lotr books #samwise gamgee #rosie cotton #elanor gamgee #merry brandybuck #pippin took #estella bolger #diamond of long cleeve #aragorn #arwen evenstar #aragorn x arwen #legolas #gimli #faramir #eowyn #faramir x eowyn #sam x rosie #the shire #gondor #tol eressea #grey havens #lotr appendices

[starsfic]

hey can you make a smol what if fic about… What if Wukong had children of his own? (not like mk was his actual kid but he has like a army of children.)

Inspiration for the baby monkey taken from @rain-bow-donkey

Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, is pregnant.

It's the first thing that Qi Xiaotian notices about him. His stomach is swollen in a way that suggests that he's in the early stages of pregnancy. He would know, Tang made an entire presentation about the stages of pregnancy when giving the sex talk to who they still thought was a preteen girl, and that included a timeline of body changes.

"Hi!" The monkey waves. A basket sits on his arm, full of what looks like herbs. He wears soft yellow robes that look loose, clearly designed for his belly. He also wears a wrap around his chest. "About time you got here, you nearly missed lunch."

Xiaotian blinked. He had never imagined this in his fantasies of meeting the legend. "...lunch?"

"Yeah! Come on. My noodles aren't as good as your father's, but this little one likes them enough." As if that is a cue, a little face peeks over Wukong's shoulder, golden eyes staring right into Xiaotian's soul. He feels himself take a step closer and feels his heart melt.

That little face belongs to the cutest fucking baby monkey he's ever seen.

With that, Xiaotian follows the king inside.

The inside of the cottage is just as homey as it looks on the outside. . However, there are more toys scattered around then planned, and the fridge is covered in children's drawings. Most of them have a yellow figure that he guesses is the king, standing next to smaller white figures that must be the other monkeys. Wukong sets the basket down on the table and reaches around with what must be expert hands.

"Okay, Hua," he coos as he sets the little monkey down in a high chair. It's clearly battered and bruised from years of use but well-loved. "Hopefully, your siblings don't barge in like they promised." He glances at Xiaotian. "Sit, sit, I'll get the food."

Xiaotian sits down. Hua stares at him and he stares back. His heart melts even further. She's adorable, with soft golden fur and even softer gold eyes, resembling the Monkey King, excluding the red mark around her eyes.

"Here we go!" Wukong walks back in with a tray. There are three bowls, two large and one baby-sized, but only one still has steam coming off. "Alright, here we go..." He hands out each bowl. The moment her baby bowl is set in front of her, Hua is digging a hand into the noodles. "Enjoy yourself, sweetie."

"She's adorable." Xiaotian notes.

"She is, and she's one of the reason why I want you to be my successor."

#my writing #LMK #LMK AU #Monkie Kid #monkie Kid AU #LEGO Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie Kid AU #Qi Xiaotian #Sun Wukong #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #prompt fill #prompt fic

[fanficapologist]

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 Seventy

As Maera and Aemond discussed the implications of Luthor’s letter, they found themselves in agreement regarding the decision to send Jaehaera and Maelor away from the tumult of Kings Landing. Together, they weighed the risks and benefits, recognizing the importance of safeguarding the royal heirs from the perils of warfare and political intrigue. Their shared resolve to protect their family prevailed, guiding their choice to send the children to the safety of distant castles and into the hands of those they trusted most.

That night, as they settled into bed, Maera felt a sense of peace envelop her. The warmth of Aemond's presence beside her offered reassurance, grounding her amidst the uncertainty of the times. She listened as he shared his intention to request an audience with the King the following day, recognizing the importance of Aegon's input in the matter. Though they were the children's guardians, Aegon's role as their father and the King meant that his approval was paramount.

It did not take long for Maera to succumb to the embrace of sleep, Aemond's comforting presence serving as a silent reassurance, the warmth of his bare form enveloping hers. She drifted into dreams, finding fleeting moments of peace amidst the turbulent currents of their reality.

The dream seemed the same as it always did. But eerie differences began to reveal themselves in mysterious ways. For instance, the dream now started in the Red Keep, not Rain House, as it always had before. The oppressive atmosphere of the vast corridors seemed to close in around Maera, amplifying the eerie groans and wails that echoed in the darkness. Eventually, she found herself standing in the throne room, a grand chamber adorned with ornate tapestries and towering pillars, the imposing presence of the Iron Throne looming ominously at its center.

In the dim light, Maera's eyes were drawn to the spectral figure of her late mother, Lady Gael, swaying before the throne like a ghostly apparition. Dressed in a flowing nightgown stained with blood, her once-beautiful features now twisted in agony, her violet eyes hauntingly empty as her mouth hung open in a silent scream. Driven by a desperate longing, Maera rushed to her mother's side, catching her frail and bloodied form in her arms and holding onto her tightly, as if clinging to the memory of her presence. Tears streamed down Maera's cheeks as she wept, overwhelmed by the sense of loss and helplessness.

“Ziry iksos vējes, Maera. Volpe ondoso Jaehossas.” It is fate, Maera. Foretold by the Gods, Lady Gael murmured with a strained breath.

But even in the midst of her grief, Maera felt a creeping dread as her mother's spectral form began to fade, her final moments slipping away like smoke in the wind. With a trembling hand, Lady Gael ominously pointed a finger into the distance, directing Maera's attention towards the Iron Throne itself. Confusion clouded her features as she tried to decipher the meaning behind her mother’s cryptic gesture, uncertain of what significance the throne held.

Suddenly, the scene shifted and morphed before Maera’s eyes, the throne room melting away like wax in a fire. In its place emerged a breathtaking vista of towering mountain ranges, their jagged peaks reaching towards the heavens with an awe-inspiring grandeur. The air was crisp and cool, tinged with the scent of pine and earth, as Maera blinked in disbelief, marveling at the surreal transformation unfolding around her, her senses inundated by the overwhelming majesty of nature’s handiwork.

In the center of this natural wonderland, nestled among the craggy rocks and ancient trees, lay a serene pool of water so clear it seemed to reflect the very soul of the world. The surface shimmered like liquid glass, mirroring the surrounding landscape with pristine clarity, while delicate ripples danced across its surface in response to the gentle breeze that whispered through the trees.

Approaching the mountain pool, she felt an inexplicable pull, as though some unseen force beckoned her towards its tranquil depths. With each step, she couldn't shake the sensation that she was being drawn inexorably closer, her heart pounding in her chest as she neared the water's edge. Glancing down at her nightgown-clad form, Maera’s hand instinctively cradled the subtle swell of her pregnancy bump beneath the fabric.

Perching herself upon a moss-covered rock at the water's edge, Maera peered into the crystal-clear depths of the pool, her reflection staring back at her with an uncanny familiarity. For a moment, she simply gazed into the serene surface, feeling at peace in her surroundings. But then, to her bewilderment, Maera noticed a subtle shift in her reflection, as if a veil had been drawn across the mirrored surface. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she observed the changes unfolding before her eyes.

The once-distinctive Targaryen silver streak that had adorned her long curls seemed to fade and vanish, leaving behind a uniform cascade of dark brown hair. Her subtle bump beneath her nightgown seemed much, much bigger, as if the child was to be born sooner than expected. And as she scrutinized her reflection further, she noticed more subtle alterations to her features—the slight dimpling of her cheeks, the dullness of her complexion—all seemingly at odds with the image she knew so well.

Maera leaned down and looked closer, her gaze fixated on the subtle yet unmistakable differences that set the mirrored image apart from her own likeness. Thin lines etched beside the mirrored eyes, adding an air of age and wisdom to the otherwise familiar features. But it was the eyes themselves that held her captivated, their hue a stark departure from her own emerald orbs. While Maera's eyes were the shade of Rainwood forests on a stormy day, flecked with hints of grey and darker green, the reflection's gaze held a hue reminiscent of a cat's eyes—paler in shade, with flecks of gold that danced upon the surface like sparks from a fire.

A sense of disquiet washed over Maera as she beheld this distorted reflection, a nagging feeling of wrongness tugging at the edges of her consciousness. She yearned for the image to change, for the truth of her own reflection to be restored, and with a determined resolve, she reached out to touch the water's surface in hopes of altering the scene before her. Yet, as her fingers broke the surface tension of the pool, a sudden chill raced through her veins as her reflection's hand shot out from the watery depths, seizing her by the wrist with a vice-like grip.

Before she could react, Maera found herself yanked beneath the surface, the cold embrace of the water enveloping her in its depths. Panic surged within her as she thrashed against the unseen force pulling her down, her lungs burning for air as she fought to break free from the suffocating grasp of her mirrored counterpart. Each desperate kick and flail brought her no closer to the surface, her strength waning with each passing moment as the darkness of the depths threatened to consume her whole.

As the water filled her lungs, Maera jolted awake, her heart racing as she struggled to catch her breath. Clutching the sheets tightly to her bare chest, she glanced around the dimly lit chamber, her eyes wide with fear.

Beside her, Aemond stirred at the sound of her gasping, his features illuminated by the soft morning glow. His sharp nose and chiseled jawline spoke of strength and determination, while his hand found its way to the small of Maera’s back, offering a reassuring touch of comfort. With a gentle motion, Aemond sat up, the sheets falling away from his lean and muscular form to reveal the slight scars that adorned his skin.

Despite the empty socket where his eye once lay and the scar that marred his face, his remaining violet eye gazed at Maera with concern and tenderness, a silent reassurance of his unwavering presence by her side. Drawing her close, he pulled her towards him so that her head nestled against his bare shoulder, offering a comforting embrace as her heart rate and breathing gradually began to slow.

"Another nightmare?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

Maera nodded, her expression still haunted as she tried to shake off the remnants of her dream. "But... it was different this time," she confessed, her voice trembling slightly with unease.

Aemond's brow furrowed in confusion, mirroring her own perplexed expression. "Different? How so?" he inquired, casting a comforting glance in her direction.

Before Maera could reply, a sharp knock at the door echoed through the chamber, signaling the arrival of Thena, Maera’s devoted maid. With a curtsy, Thena entered the room, her attire of red and beige servant’s garb a stark contrast to the opulence of the surroundings. The maid announced that the King had requested an audience with them, and assisted the couple in dressing.

They did not break their fast before making their way to the King's apartments, side by side through the corridors, their shared presence exuding a sense of regal grace and authority. Maera's attire, while still elegant, now accommodated the subtle changes of her pregnancy. Her black and golden dress, adorned with intricate detailing, draped loosely over her form, the fabric gently swaying with each step she took. The corsets, once a staple of her wardrobe, had become too restrictive for her burgeoning stomach, prompting her to opt for a more comfortable ensemble.

Loose black cotton sleeves billowed around her arms, while a golden belt cinched her waist ever so slightly, accentuating her feminine silhouette. Maera's luscious brown curls cascaded down her back, the distinctive white streak adding a touch of intrigue to her appearance. The front of her hair was delicately braided away from her face, enhancing her features with an air of sophistication.

Beside her, Aemond cut a striking figure in his customary attire of deep black leather. His doublet and trousers, meticulously tailored to fit his slender frame, exuded a sense of rugged elegance. Polished leather boots encased his feet, the knee-high design adding a subtle yet commanding presence to his ensemble. His silver hair, flawlessly styled, framed his angular features with a touch of refinement, while the black leather eyepatch, a constant reminder of his past, lent an air of mystery to his appearance. As they walked, Aemond's arm remained protectively at the small of Maera's back, just like always.

“Kostilus ziry īlon jorrāelatan ūndegon zirȳla. Raqagon nykeā maegi,” Perhaps he knew we wanted to see him. Like a seer, Maera whispered jokingly to her husband as they stood outside the King’s doors.

Aemond scoffed in response. “Ao tepagon zirȳla hōzinon.” You overestimate him.

As the ornate doors to the King's chambers were opened by the guards, Maera and Aemond were greeted by a sight that, while somewhat disconcerting, was not entirely unexpected. The chamber was in a state of disarray, with discarded garments strewn haphazardly across the floor and various items of furniture overturned or askew. Papers and scrolls lay scattered about, some crumpled and forgotten, others bearing the marks of hastily scrawled notes.

Undeterred by the disorder, Maera and Aemond made their way into the room, navigating carefully around the cluttered obstacles that littered their path. Aemond gallantly offered his hand to Maera, assisting her in stepping over spilled liquids and fallen chairs with practiced ease, his protective gesture not going unnoticed by his wife, a smile gracing her face.

“Brother!” A voice exclaimed, causing the couple to turn their heads. Walking in front of his bed, a goblet in hand, stood the figure of King Aegon, stark naked in the center of his sleeping quarters, his form illuminated by the soft glow of the sun filtering in through the windows. Maera instinctively averted her gaze, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the unexpected sight, while Aemond emitted a low groan of disappointment at the untimely interruption of his brother's indecorous display.

“Gods be damned,” Aemond muttered under his breath, moving swiftly to retrieve Aegon’s robe and tossing it in his older brother’s direction.

Aegon rolled his violet eyes, his smirk unwavering. “Well, I did not know your wife would be joining us, did I?” he retorted, slipping his arms into the dark green robe that Aemond had provided.

“Even if she wasn’t, I alone should not be subjected to such a sight,” Aemond grumbled, his frustration evident as he began to gather up the chairs that had been scattered about the room.

Once decently covered, Aegon turned his attention to Maera, his smirk widening. “Mayflower,” he greeted with a knowing glint in his eyes.

Maera dipped into a curtsey, her cheeks still tinged with embarrassment as she replied, “Your Grace,” avoiding his gaze altogether.

Aemond rang a bell, summoning a plethora of servants into the room. He wasted no time in commanding them to clean the chamber and prepare food. “My wife and I have not yet eaten since you so urgently called us for an audience,” Aemond stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Get dressed, and we will break our fast together.”

With a huff, Aegon begrudgingly complied, and the servants hurried to fulfill their orders. Meanwhile, Aemond guided Maera to a nearby chair in the adjoining room, assisting her as she sat down at the table. With practiced efficiency, he began to organize and put away the scattered documents that Aegon had carelessly left lying about.

The bustle of activity continued around Maera, with the kitchen maids arriving to adorn the table with a variety of breakfast offerings. Platters of freshly baked breads and pastries were arranged alongside bowls of seasonal fruits and berries, their vibrant colors adding a cheerful touch to the otherwise somber atmosphere of the chamber. Plates of cured meats and cheeses were also presented, along with pots of honey and preserves to accompany the bread.

Amidst the array of delicacies, Aegon finally made his appearance, his arms outstretched in a grand gesture as he presented himself fully clothed. His short silver hair had been meticulously combed into soft waves, framing his features with a sense of regal elegance. He wore a dark green tunic adorned with intricate embroidery depicting green and gold dragons, paired with black trousers and freshly polished boots. Maera couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his dramatic entrance, as if being well presented was not to be expected of the King.

Still, she took her husband’s lead of showing respect, albeit begrudgingly. Aemond stood by the table, arms behind his back and stance exuding power, the Hand of the King pin on his chest catching the morning light. Maera rose from her chair, bump in tow, awaiting for the Protector of the Realm to take his seat and begin feasting, so they could be permitted to join him.

However, Aegon did not immediately take his seat. Instead, he approached Maera with a toothy grin. “So, goodsister, how fares my growing nephew?” Aegon asked, his arm outstretched in a gesture to touch her belly, filling her with discomfort and a sense of intrusion. Before his hand could make contact, Aemond swiftly intervened, his arm shooting out to grasp Aegon's wrist in a firm and decisive hold, halting his advance with a clear message.

Maera glanced at Aegon, who scowled at his brother with a sidelong glance. Aemond, undeterred and unwavering, kept his gaze fixed on Aegon, his expression and demeanor conveying a silent warning. Sensing the tension, Aegon reluctantly pulled back, raising his arm in a gesture of surrender before finally making his way to his seat.

She glanced down at her belly, a protective instinct washing over her as Aegon referred to her unborn child. "What makes you so sure it is a boy?" Maera inquired, her voice tinged with skepticism.

"It has to be!" Aegon declared with unwavering confidence, settling into his seat as the others followed suit. "What man would not want a son, don’t you agree, brother?" he directed the question at Aemond, who responded with a scowl, choosing to focus on his meal instead.

Maera could not help but furrow her brow in Aemond’s direction. Did he truly desire a son above a daughter? It was a sentiment deeply ingrained in the minds of many lords across Westeros in order to continue the family line, but Maera found herself questioning its significance. After all, King Viserys had defied tradition by naming his daughter Rhaenyra as his heir. But then again, it was a decision that had sparked a bloody conflict, tearing the realm apart.

Instead of responding, Maera mirrored her husband's response and turned her attention to her plate, hoping to avoid further conversation, but Aegon persisted. "I have only one son now," he remarked, a hint of melancholy in his tone. "If anything should happen to Maelor, your boy could one day sit the throne."

Maera's lip curled in disdain at the thought. "I most certainly hope not," she retorted sharply, unable to fathom any harm befalling the two year old Prince, as well as subjecting her own child to the burdens of the crown.

Aegon clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You never know, Mayflower," he persisted, his tone almost teasing. "Helaena remains madder than ever, and there is no way she will let me lie with her now. I will have no more trueborn sons whilst she remains living.”

Fury ignited within Maera at the mention of her dearest friend, gripping her fork tighter at his words. It seemed that any trace of empathy Aegon might have briefly displayed following his son’s death had evaporated, leaving behind the same unyielding demeanor. Maera felt a surge of pity for Helaena, knowing firsthand the trials and tribulations her friend had endured, and yet she was still viewed as nothing but a brood mare.

"Perhaps a new madness will encompass your poor wife," she shot back with barely contained venom. "One where she actually finds your company bearable enough to lie with you for the two minutes you can provide her with."

Aemond cleared his throat, attempting to conceal a laugh, but his smirk directed at Maera betrayed his amusement.

Aegon merely chuckled at the Princess’s retort. “They are so feisty when they are with child. I feel sorry for you, Aemond.”

“Enough,” Aemond warned, his patience wearing thin. “My wife has an important matter to discuss with you.”

Aegon raised an eyebrow but did not look up from his food to show an interest in Maera, causing her to bite back a groan at the blatant disrespect. Nevertheless, she presented her case.

“Your children have thrived in our care, my King,” Maera began with a warm smile, speaking of their wards with genuine affection. “Jaehaera grows more beautiful every day, and her wit is admirable. And Maelor’s speech has greatly improved. He’s undergone significant growth in these past few months.”

A shadow passed over Maera’s features as she continued, her concern evident. “I love them as if they were my own. And for that reason, their safety is my primary concern. Spies lurk within the city, and assassins wait in the shadows. Given what happened to Jaehaerys…” Her voice trailed off momentarily, the memory still fresh in her mind. “I do not wish the same fate for your remaining children, goodbrother.”

With Aegon’s attention finally fully captured, Maera pressed on with her proposal. “Jaehaera and Maelor should be sent to ward outside of King’s Landing, each to a different location to ensure their safety. I propose sending Jaehaera to Storm’s End, to be under the care of my brother Luthor and his new wife, the Lady Cassandra. And Maelor should journey to Tarbeck Hall, where my sister Sabine will provide for him.”

There was a palpable tension as Aegon considered Maera's proposal, his gaze flickering to Aemond for confirmation. The one-eyed prince nodded subtly, signaling his agreement with his wife's plan.

“My concern also extends to the welfare of your wife, Your Grace,” she continued, her voice softer now, laced with empathy. “She will not even let me see her. She has moments of lucidity, but most of the time, she simply stares out of the window, neglecting to eat or drink.” Maera’s gaze met Aemond’s, silently conveying her worry. “Perhaps a change of scenery would do Helaena some good. Rain House would be honored to receive the Queen. And if her health improves…”

Aegon’s interruption was swift and decisive. “Dragons do not flee from fire. I will not have the crown appear weak with the Queen abandoning her post,” he declared firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “But you have my permission to relocate the children.”

Though disappointed by Aegon’s refusal to consider relocating Helaena, Maera accepted his concession regarding the children. “Thank you, Your Grace. I will make the necessary arrangements,” she replied graciously, her tone respectful despite her lingering concerns.

After a moment’s pause, Aegon’s gaze shifted to Aemond with a sly smirk. “Do you think it wise to wait for your wife to leave before we discuss other matters, brother?”

Maera scowled instinctively, ready to interject, but Aemond’s hand on her lap halted her, his touch offering reassurance. With a squeeze to her thigh, he directed his attention to Aegon. “Whatever you need to discuss, you can do so in front of Maera.”

A triumphant smile graced Maera’s lips as she glanced at Aegon, but his smirk only widened. “You’re sure? The subject is rather… sensitive,” Aegon teased, a hint of mischief in his tone.

“I have just claimed one of the wildest dragons as my own, Your Grace,” Maera retorted, her smirk matching Aegon’s. “Rest assured, my stomach is strong. The mention of war won’t unsettle me.”

Aegon chuckled, rolling his eyes before relenting with a sigh. “Lord Grover Tully is dead,” he announced to Aemond, then turned his gaze to Maera. “As is Lord Warren, his grandson, and heir.”

Maera’s eyes widened in surprise, her discomfort evident, but Aegon seemed to revel in her reaction as he continued to provide details. “Apparently, Lord Warren met his demise quite quickly after venturing into Ser Elmo's encampment. The news proved too much for Lord Grover, and the old fool's heart gave out,” he explained, his amusement evident.

A scowl crept across Maera’s features as she glanced at Aemond, who avoided her gaze, guilt flickering in his eye. It was his doing that Lord Warren had ventured into Ser Elmo’s camp in the first place, an apparent weakness that the witch Alys had foretold.

Clearly the whore was not right about everything, and it had led to the death of an honourable man. How long would Aemond place his faith in her? What would it take for him to stop gambling his future on a supposed seer? Until his own family’s lives became at risk?!

“Then the Riverlands are lost,” Aemond stated matter-of-factly to the King, breaking Maera’s contemplation. But Aegon’s laughter filled the room.

“Don’t be so quick to concede defeat, brother,” Aegon replied with a smirk, rising from his seat and retrieving a map from a nearby shelf, which he spread out before Aemond. Maera leaned forward, intrigued, as Aegon pointed to various locations in the Riverlands.

“We still have loyalists here and here,” Aegon explained, indicating Whitehall and Atranta on the map. “Though they may be minor Houses, their number of soldiers are not insignificant.”

Aegon then fixed Aemond with a determined gaze. “Fly there and rally their forces to join us here,” he commanded, his finger tracing a path on the map until it rested on a familiar location, Maera’s eyes widening in recognition. Harrenhal.

“You need to remain there until I say otherwise,” Aegon concluded with a smirk, his gaze fixed on Aemond.

Aemond attempted to interject, his voice carrying a note of diplomacy, “Brother, is this truly—”

“No,” Maera's voice cut through the air like a blade, her eyes flashing with defiance as she rose from her seat, her anger palpable.

“No?” Aegon raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“He’s not going,” Maera repeated, her voice laced with conviction. “The Tully’s allegiance lies with Rhaenyra. No trip to Harrenhal will change that.”

Aegon’s smirk widened. “Ah, it seems my sister-in-law wants to advise her King on military matters now,” he remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Maera’s gaze remained steely as she countered, “Any ruler with half a brain would see the folly in this decision. Sending Aemond away, on the world’s largest war machine might I add, leaves Kings Landing defenseless. And since you haven’t been seen riding Sunfyre lately, I sincerely doubt your ability to defend us.”

Aegon's patience was wearing thin, his annoyance evident in his tone as he chose to address Aemond directly, “Tell your wife to hold her tongue, or she will lose it.”

Aemond tensed at the insult, moving quickly to stand at his wife’s side, his hand reaching out to touch her arm in a plea for restraint. “Maera, please-“

“I may carry an heir of yours in your belly, remember?” Maera sneered at Aegon before yanking her arm out of Aemond’s grasp. “Would it be so wise to harm its vessel?”

The King chose not to respond directly, instead leaning back in his chair with a smirk playing on his lips. “I wonder, Mayflower, why you are so defensive about your husband returning to Harrenhal?”

Maera felt a rush of embarrassment and shame at Aegon’s allusion, the subtle pink tinge on her cheeks betraying her inner turmoil. She avoided Aegon's challenging stare, her green eyes seeking refuge elsewhere in the room.

Aegon’s grin widened as he turned to his brother. “Ah, so she does know,” he exclaimed gleefully. “No need for pretense then. Let’s dispense with the charade of my pious brother’s honor.”

A growl rumbled in Aemond's throat, but Aegon brushed it off, rising from his seat and reaching for a jug of wine. “It’s a win-win, Maera,” Aegon declared, pouring wine into his goblet. “Through using Harrenhall as a rallying point, I get a chance at reclaiming the Riverlands, rightfully mine as King of the Seven Kingdoms.” He raised his goblet in a mock toast. “And Aemond gets to return to his whore, a well-deserved break from his wife.”

In a moment of unrestrained fury, Maera launched herself towards Aegon, her body tense and coiled like a spring ready to snap. However, her attempt to attack him was swiftly intercepted by Aemond, whose arms encircled her, holding her back with a firm yet gentle strength. Her frustration mounted as Aegon's laughter filled the room, casually sipping from his wine goblet, reveling in the discord he had orchestrated.

After struggling in Aemond’s arms, Maera managed to wrench herself free, her chest heaving with ragged breaths and her heart pounding in her ears. She shot a piercing glare at Aegon, her green eyes ablaze with fury and indignation, before turning her attention to her husband. The feelings of betrayal and hurt surged back to the forefront of her mind, reigniting the smoldering embers of her anger.

With a low growl rumbling in her throat, Maera stormed out of Aegon’s rooms, her steps echoing in the hallway despite Aemond's calls after her. Each stride was fueled by a mixture of indignation and frustration, propelling her forward with determined purpose as she made her way back to her own chambers.

Notes: the drama is flowing ☕️

Tags: @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @0eessirk8 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek

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

#maera wylde #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #chapters #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house targaryen #house wylde #hotd helaena

[phantomposting]

Another half asleep twins au rant/prompt! Please excuse any spelling or grammar errors I have not slept in a hot minute.

Trigger Warning ⚠️: Ghost Hunger, Dissection/vivisection, starvation

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So this is a Ghost Hunger Damian and Danny are twins au. I was reminded about ghost hunger the other day and boy did it give me the spark of creativity I needed to create yet another au/fic idea to hyperfixate on.

So in this au Damian and Danny were very close as siblings but Danny ended up dying throwing himself in harms way to protect Damian on a mission for the league. Damian blames himself for not having better reflexes/not paying enough attention and could never convince his grandfather to allow Danyal to be resurrected via the pit.

Talia saw how desperate her son was for the other to live though and also cared for Danyal so she risked it all to revive him secretly and hide him amongst the civilians in America. Damian sadly never got to learn about that fact tho and lived years with the guilt he felt which left him determined to never let that happen again. Which meant he could never let anyone get close enough to want to do such a thing for him and he needed to hone his skills.

Danny on the other hand has hazy memories of his brother while with the Fentons and goes through the same timeline of becoming Phantom and protecting Amity Park. Eventually tho his parents find out and that gets him strapped to a table in the basement begging for his half life/getting vivisected.

So Danny flees going on the run and ends up on the streets of Gotham. The spirit of Gotham is so excited and welcoming to her newest child. He is a protector and her king after all. It fills her with pride that she would get to care for such an important person. She does all she can to make sure the king stays safe. Little things to keep him hidden and protected.

Danny however has unintentionally been keeping a pretty big secret from the ghosts of the realm. He doesn't really know this though and thinks its just a ghost thing. Basically his core is slightly corrupted due to the years he spent around the Lazarus pits aswell as the revival vial the dip in it's corrupt ectoplasm. As a result he experiences ghost hunger which was pretty easy to manage when he lived with the Fenton's. He would normally satiate his hunger via eating pure ectoplasm from the lab but now he has no access to that which leads him to starving himself.

This starvation mixed with his human side starving aswell is very very hard on his body as a result he begins to black out sometimes when he wakes up he usually tastes ectoplasm but just assumes its his own due to his injuries from his parents. These injuries are weirdly taking way longer to heal which is due to ghosts being very mental/emotional state based.

Gotham soon realizes she has a big problem on her hands. It turns out the king's core is corrupted and as a result many of her ghostly children are going missing. She is deeply upset and calls out for help to assist the king with his corruption or stop him from killing more of her children. She hopes the king gets help rather than getting taken down however. She knows it's not his fault. She knows how protective of her city and her people he is and how kind he can be to them and hopes issues get solved so he may become a protector of her people.

This call for help brings Constantine to Gotham. He doesn't get a whole lot of info from Gotham at first but he knows whatever is going on can be dangerous and is important. He knows that some of the bats are in danger too and gives them a warning that something in Gotham seems to be hunting ghostly beings and those whom have died before are at risk especially Red Hood.

The Bat's don't take too kindly to the supernatural threat and kinda force their way into assisting Constantine whom is already annoyed with the prospect of having to deal with the bats.

So time passes and the bats gets a few encounters of feeling as if they're being hunted. Jason is also the first to discover the new homeless kid in Gotham who looks almost exactly like Damian. It's hard to really see too many similarities at the time tho he's so thin it's deeply worrying and his icy blue eyes greatly contrast Damian's emerald green, but some similarities are far too obvious to miss. Oh great more black hair blue eyed adoption bait. Better keep him far away from Bruce.

The few run ins some of the bat kids have with Danny make them worried about the homeless kid. Dick, Tim, Duke and Jason all get run ins with the kid and tho they want to try and help the kid he always seems to vanish without a trace. It's kinda creepy but they all can recognize just how scared this kid is.

Eventually Bruce and Damian get their run in with the kid. The GiW have finally tracked Danny down and due to the stupid vivisection wounds not healing and the starvation of both forms he can't get the strength he needs to defend himself or make an easy escape. He ends up cornered in an alleyway and getting shot with luckily no major damage. Batman and Robin come across the scene of what appears to be some weird new gang bullying a homeless child and makes quick work of them.

After all is said and done and they look back to help the injured kid Damian ends up shocked to find that this kid is Danyal. At first he pulls his sword on him making threats thinking this is some sick and twisted trick from the league, but then he comes to his senses seeing how broken and defeated Danyal is. He doesn't flinch or shy away from the fate, though he has tears in his deeply tired eyes he doesn't fight back. He doesn't seem to have the energy to. He just sits against the walled dead end that almost got him killed and stares down the katana as if he no longer fears death.

Things get bit emotional as he questions his long dead brother. Danny is honest in answering he doesn't know how he came back nor does he fully remember how he died in the first place. He also dodges some of the questions and keeps the ghost half hidden. He explains to them he's gotten himself into trouble however and people are after him now and he appreciates the help. He keeps as much as he can about ghosts being involved a secret. He has no idea about the Bat's stances on them after all. And he seems to hate metas so probably won't take to kindly to a ghost.

Damian and Danny share info and Bruce discovers he has a son he didn't know about and deeply regrets not being there cause the state this kid is in is pretty dier. He's not sure he can fully trust the kid though. It's clear he's hiding something and that could be a danger to his family and Gotham, but he decides to give him a chance. After all this is his son and he wants to help him no matter what.

Bruce calls in someone to cover the rest of his and Damian's patrol route for the night and has Alfred get Doctor Thompkins to meet them back in the cave for medical assistance. They get Danny back and he starts getting some treatment for his wounds. Alfred and Thompkins are pretty horrified to find the vivisection wounds on the kiddo. They are definetly infected by this point. And much to Danny's dismay he has to use the excuse that he's a meta to explain why he's got such a low temperature and heart rate, why he can't use sedatives, and why stitches and stuff like that won't work.

So treatment is a bit difficult but they do their best with it. Alfred and Thompkins also discuss what needs to be done to get the kid back on track to being healthy. All the while Damian is anxiously waiting to be able to see his brother again. Bruce has never seen Damian show such emotion and care before aside from when he's dealing with animals. It's so jarring. And of course the other bat kids are snooping trying to find out what's going on.

So recovery is slow and bat kids try to connect with their new sibling whenever Damian isn't trying to act as a guard dog/mother hen. Danny ends up the closest with Damian and Jason in the family. Jason can immediately tell something is off with the kid due to the Lazarus water reacting to him and is the first person Danny opens up to about being half ghost (much to Damian's dismay). Jason keeps Danny's secret for him but encourages him subtly to open up to the others cause they'll definetly accept him despite the fact that he's half dead. They bond a lot on their mutual trauma and of course Damian is jealous but also happy Danny is actually talking to someone and getting back on his feet.

Damian still feels immense guilt over the first death Danyal faced and this guilt makes him think of course Danyal would want to avoid him that Danyal blames him too which is totally untrue and eventually gets worked through but not until after theres some conflicts due to jealousy. But that comes later.

One night Jason decides to stay over for Danny's sake and Danny has another black out. Basically his ghost form goes feral and tries to go after Jason. This results in the discovery that Danny was the danger Constantine has been looking for all along and there's a major blow up in the family due to this info. Danny only stops feral mode after eating a blob ghost (poor lil guy) and gets rudely awoken by the batfam accusations of attempted murder.

Danny is finally informed that he's been killing and eating ghosts and is horrified this goes against his whole goal of protecting everyone and keeping the balance and really goes against his protection obsession. It breaks him and Bruce yelling accusations at him doesn't help at all. Kiddo has a major breakdown and goes on the run from his new family thinking he is a danger and that he blew it with them.

Danny faces issues with injury to his core aswell due to what he's done and how that effects his obsession. Basically he's having a real bad time.

Jason whom has connected with the kiddo knows that this ain't Danny and somethings clearly wrong and so does Damian so the two reluctantly band together to locate and help the poor kiddo. With this team up Damian discovers Jason knew Danny was a half ghost and jealousy causes a fight but they manage to keep the team together out of concern for the kiddo.

The the other Bats team up with Constantine to track him down and eliminate the threat. Gotham tries to impede them though cause she knows the route they are on will only bring harm to the ghost king rather than help him. She tries her best to help hood and Robin find him first.

When Jason and Damian discover Danny he's in bad shape. Kiddos absolutely breaking down and very injured his core is definetly injured for sure. They try to offer assistance but Danny isn't thinking straight he's like a wounded animal so if he gets cornered he fights back.

It really doesn't help that the GiW manages to track him down yet again and the boyoa have to deal with both that and a ghostly Danny whom poses a risk of injury to not only them but himself.

With so much going on its no surprise that the GiW actually succeeds in capturing Danny. The two vigilante's end up getting knocked out and left to the wayside.

Eventually the other bats come across them and they explain Danny was captured by the thugs that first attacked him. Constantine recognizes the organization and is deeply frustrated but hey atleast it's not his problem anymore right? Wrong. With the kids explanations he realizes Danny was not actually evil. He's partially alive and he is a protector spirit not a rouge one. He also realizes how bad things are cause a spirit like that committing such acts that he has risks destabilization which would probably kill both the human and ghost half. He's no ghost expert but Gotham's giving him signs she wants him to help the ghost kid and now he's in quite the pickle.

So this leads everyone into panic mode and search and recuse mode. Theres a big rescue mission where they break into the GiW headquarters and fight the GiW to get Danny back. Of course he is having a hard time staying stable and they have to both use whatever magic Constantine can muster to keep him as stable as he can and on the spot therapy time to try and stabilize the poor kiddo.

Eventually they get him stable enough to bring him back home but now he has mandatory therapy sessions with Black Canary. They also have a lot of emotional work ahead of them aswell and physical work trying to get a steady supply of ectoplasm so the kid doesn't starve again.

They have to fight the Fenton's for custody aswell and try and dismantle the GiW and anti ecto acts. Its a long process and they really discover just how bad things were for the kid.

They probably have a visit to frostbite too if they can get a portal and this helps him heal and make sure no more ghost medical problems occur. This also helps the family learn a lot of ghost health is tied to emotional and mental health.

Damian and Danny probably end up getting in a few fights due to Damian's jealousy aswell but eventually work though it and become closer due to it. They are inseparable. And Damian also has to learn to get used to Jason being around and an active older brother figure. Bruce apologizes for his mistreatment of the kiddo too. Their relationship stays a bit rocky for a long while but they definitely make progress.

Theres a lot of emotions and emotional conflict and things are very rocky for awhile but eventually they get to be a functional and loving family dynamic! Danny gets a happy ending in the end it's not a perfect home but he definetly wouldn't want to be anywhere else :D

This is the longest prompt I've written yet I hope you guys enjoy it 💗💗💗

#danny phantom #dp x dc #batman crossover #dp au #damian wayne #danny and damian are twins #writing prompt #jason todd #I'm so sleepy tired and I'm sorry if that effects the prompt in any way #ghost hunger #I was reminded about ghost hunger and my brain went a little crazy bonkers with it #sorry if this one is a bit everywhere just kinda having fun with it #so much drama so much trauma #angst supreme